Charon roared, a demonic sounding howl as he ripped the arrow from his side. The point had buried deep into him, but it had not reached his heart.
"You want me to go back to hell?" He roared, "I will and take you with me by force!"
Charon spun and slammed the bottom of his staff on the floor.
Sam looked down in horror as the floor cracked and fell apart, dropping him into the bottom floor. He looked up and shielded himself as the rest of the room above rained down in pieces. A big piece of wood knocked into him and he quickly pushed it away, trying to focus his eyes.
Once the dust began to clear and his eyes focused he stared at Eri and Charon.
They were locked in war.
Eri was using her bow as defense, blocking and driving away the blood red point of Charon's spear.
Charon, who had been so calm, as now on a rampage as he attacked in a furry of blows.
Sam, went to stand and found he couldn't as a particularly big block of wood pinned his leg. As he cleared away the smaller debris and tried lifting the block, Eri fought for her life.
She gripped both ends of the bow, using it to block the spear as she danced around debris and over furniture.
Every once in a while she managed a quick breath where she stepped forward, slamming the heavy ends of the bow into the ferryman. She wanted to grab an arrow, but every time she stepped back, Charon was on her tail. She couldn't get enough distance, not enough time to draw another shot. So she battled, hardly able to give a glance to Sam who had fallen first or Dean who was still in the bathroom, possibly dead.
Eri leaped backwards, onto the overturned couch and kicked powerfully in Charon's chest. He flew back and Eri quickly drew an arrow, spinning away as the spear flew at her. She fired wildly, ducking her head. The spear followed though, leaping from where it embedded in the all to her again. She jumped, gripping a ceiling fan with one hand as the spear returned to its master. She dropped down, firing two more together but Charon swung his staff splintering them as he had done before.
Charon ran at her and she fired another arrow. He grabbed it id air and threw it to the side, his hand rushing in front of him.
He grabbed the bow and pulled it free from Eri, throwing it behind him. He gripped Eri by the chin and held her up in the air.
"You have tested me for the last time!" He shouted.
"Not quite!" Eri smirked, gripping an arrow in one hand each. She jerked up, cutting his wrist on both sides.
"Aah!" Charon yelped in pain, dropping Eri to the ground. Eri swept herleg out, knocking into the reaper's legs. He collapsed and she dived at him again.
Charon used his staff to lift Eri over and behind him into the kitchen.
She crashed against a counter, the arrows flying out of her hand. She shook her head, disoriented, confused.
She reached behind her, feeling only one arrow left. Her numb fingers grabbed for the arrow, it's slick surface sliding between her exhausted fingers.
Eri could feel her ankle twisted and broken ribs, cuts and bruises all over her body, her right arm bleeding particularly bad.
She could taste the blood, bile and dust in her mouth, thick and slick.
She could smell the methane as the destruction had caused the stove to light and the warm scents of sweat, blood and desperation.
Eri could hear the heavy thuds and cries of pain as Sam worked to free himself, the crumbling of the house around her and distant roar of chaos around her.
Eri blinked, seeing broken walls and destroyed furniture, blood everywhere and dust coating every surface as Charon barreled down at her.
Her thin, but strong tempered hands gripped the last arrow and she whipped it out just as she saw Charon's white eyes and red spear point.
Eri shook.
She could see the shock in his white eyes.
She could hear the sharp intake of breath.
She could smell the cloying aroma of a graveyard on his lips.
She could taste the bile on her own lips.
She could feel the sting in her chest.
Er kept eye contact with Charon.
With a grunt and a weak smile, she twisted her hand.
A cry of pain escaped his lips and they looked down together.
In her hand, driving directly into his heart was a dark gold arrow. Dark red blood seeped from the wound as he chuckled.
In his hand, driving directly into the center of her chest was the white staff, the thick red spear point darkening. Dark red blood dripped over the edges, a sharp contrast to the lighter, brighter jewel.
Eri locked a look with Charon again as he spoke.
"It seems we have both accomplished goals we had decided upon," He said elegantly, "However only one will return to purge this world of its wrongdoing."
"And even in my demise," Eri snarled, "There will be those who stop you."
She jabbed deeper with the arrow and Charon screamed, arching up.
A massive white glow with black shadows within it shined and a concussive blast sounded. A huge blast of hot air swept through the room, sending debris flying back.
Sam blinked as he shielded himself from the blast to see Charon gone and Eri against the counter, her head down.
"Eri!" He screamed, finally shoving aside the block that had trapped him.
He raced to her, ignoring the pain of a broken ankle and grabbed her, pulling her into his lap.
Sam gripped her tight, pressing his hand to the wound.
It was grisly. Bloody and messy, the wound was huge and had practically erupted over her chest.
"Eri!" He cried, holding her heaving body, "Hang on!"
"Sam," She gargled through the blood and bile, "Go."
"I'm not leaving you!" He practically roared in panic, "Dean!"
He heard his brother's heavy footsteps round the corner and a sharp intake of breath.
"Go get the car!" Sam demanded, fighting back tears.
Dean didn't say anything as he wheeled away, back outside.
"You're going to be ok," Sam begged, "I'm not going to let you go!"
"I'm ok," She whispered, blinking back her own tears, "Go with Dean, get out of here."
"No," Sam hugged her tighter, trying to keep her lifeblood inside.
But his hand was slick with blood and sweat. She had lost so much.
He didn't dare look at the wound again, already knowing how horrible the stab had been.
It had come out of nowhere.
He should have been able to protect her.
She was innocent.
She didn't belong in his world, in his madness.
He blinked through the tears as she spat out the blood that had collected in her mouth. She shook her head, black strands of hair sticking to her like glue. Her breathing was labored and she was so pale. So incredibly pale. Sam looked up as he heard the distant thud of the Impala's trunk.
"Sam," She gasped, bringing her own hand to his cheek.
He looked back at her, into those deep, wounded and fierce green eyes. They sparkled like emeralds, like beautiful gems, Sam had seen them viscous and cold, angry and commanding. He had seen them full of love and passion.
He melted into her hand, holding her tiny hand with his own. She was so cold.
She was practically frozen, but she spoke and Sam watched her eyes as they telegraphed one last message of strength and power.
As if he was the one who laid on the cold ground dying.
"Sam," Her voice was soft and tender, "Thank you. You are who I love. You are my other half. I cannot thank you enough for what you did. What you've done."
"I'm going to save you," Sam whispered hoarsely.
"You already did," She smiled weakly.
In a burst of passion, Sam brought his lips to her, gripping her tighter. He ran his mouth over her lips, ignoring the bile, sweat and blood. He pressed into her, tasting her desperation and fear and focused his energy on her. He prayed to whatever deity he could that she would make it, that he could save her, that she would survive.
Suddenly he felt a soft sigh pass from her lips and he opened his eyes.
There.
He held her gaze as her pupils dilated and the brilliant green faded, the spark that had once shown through them had vanished.