Dearest lovlies! Hope you're all still out there, not much response on my last chapter so I really hope it was ok! Thanks also to Murder-of-the-Night, definitely the reaction I wanted!

Warnings: a healthy dose of passion and feels, shaken not stirred.

Disclaimer: the usual. Teeny tiny manipulation of dialogue and lyrics to fit with context. I own nothing. My soul is just an empty cavern with the graffiti Crowley Waz Ere.

On with the show!

~8~

"Now that was a show-stopping number, though not quite the fireworks I had in mind."

"Go back to whatever Hell you came from or I'll send you there myself." The growl came from Bobby's chest. Crowley looked on, impressed.

"Oh come now, big smiles everyone." The demon paused, gave a small indulgent smile, and shrugged, "You beat the bad guy."

Once again, the debonair jazz hummed throughout the room and the demon crooned his reprise.

What a lot of fun,

You guys have been real swell.

And there's not a one who can say,

This ended well!

All those secrets,

You've been concealing,

Say you're happy now,

Once more with feeling.

Now I gotta run,

See you all,

In hell!

With one final flourish that had the lights once again flickering, the demon looked like he was about to smoke out of his meet-suit when Gabriel stepped forward and held up his hand. The demon choked but stayed put, glowering. Gabriel's face was terrifyingly blank. Castiel stepped forward with his brother, his voice toneless. "You will be the example."

"The example of what, angel boy?" The tinge of annoyance betrayed his supposed nonchalance and smugness.

"Of what happens when you "mess" with our Winchesters." With that, Castiel and Gabriel pressed both palms to the demon's forehead and managed to warn everyone else to close their eyes before they burned both the demon and his already very dead vessel into nothing but a few wisps of smoke and a couple of dust motes.

The silence fell like the curtain, but too soon, too sudden, and left all feeling bereft, still reeling from their recent debuts.

"Anyone else still feel like that demon's mojo's running through their system?" Bobby rumbled.

Crowley frowned, "Yes, how do you reckon we're supposed to––"

Sam, picking at his fingers, interrupted and sang softly where do we go from here?

Dean and Castiel had yet to let go of one another's eyes and merely murmured where do we go from here?

Gabriel tried not to go directly to Sam. Instead he shrugged and sang the battle's done, and we kinda won,

Castiel, finally looking away from Dean, joined his brother and sang, so we sound our victory cheer? Where do we go from here?

Bobby, looking thoroughly grouchy, and Crowley who looked bored out of his brain sang gruffly why is the path unclear?

Sam looked at Dean and they both harmonized, is there no hope left near?

Somehow unconsciously they had gravitated to the centre of the room and formed a line – Dean, Castiel, Sam, Gabriel, Crowley, and Bobby – and one by one on their next line, understand we'll go hand in hand, they took each other's hand before letting go as if they'd been burned and dispersing around the room on but we still walk alone in fear.

Sam looked at Gabe, who finally met his eyes, and sang almost desperately tell me! Walking over to him, Gabriel turned to meet him, and together they sang where do we go from here?

All were singing when does the end appear, when Dean suddenly stopped. "Screw this!" He muttered before he fled through the doorway. The others continued on as if he never left. All except Castiel.

When do the trumpets cheer?

The curtains close, on a kiss god knows,

We can tell the end is near!

Where do we go from here?

Shaking, Dean came to an abrupt halt outside the warehouse. His heart was thundering sickeningly in his chest and the world had the eerie tinge that accompanied déjá vu. He could still hear them through the walls, their voices like footfalls echoing in the cavernous and chaotic space inside his head. Empty. Nothing. Except when–

The sound of wings yanked him unceremoniously from his head. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the one rhythm he could usually trust.

Bah-boom, bah-boom, bah-boom…

Traitor.

"Dean." And that was it. One word, one syllable, one name, and it was as if he had waited his entire life just to hear it, as if all the pain, the death, the running, the searching, all of it was worth it for precisely this moment.

He turned and faced the angel, powerless in his hopelessness. Electric blue collided with forest green and the air practically smoked out of his lungs.

Really, who were they kidding?

(They never need an introduction.

Dean left, Cas right, centre both.)

I touch the fire and it freezes me –– We've tried,

Like magnets, they were drawn together, each small step they took closing the self-imposed canyon of what if's and maybe's and unsaid things between them.

I look into it and it's black –– So many years to go.

Dean's eyes were wide with disbelief, as if he couldn't quite believe this was actually happening and it suddenly occurred to Castiel that he probably didn't. Since his mother, since his father, since Sam, since Hell, he had probably forgotten what it felt like. Happiness. Growing up he'd never let himself have it because he didn't think he deserved it, because he had responsibilities, because people always left. Castiel's certain his heart once again metaphorically broke just a little bit more as Dean's lyrics confirmed his thoughts.

This can't be real.

But it was because this, this was it. One of those moments that people said could change the course of the future, like not stepping on a grey fish as it pulled itself up a beach or sitting on a park bench in a would-be doomed town. These were the moments that mattered, sometimes small, sometimes insignificant at first, but always, always pivotal.

Chest to chest, eyes unwavering, hearts in their throats.

Please just let me –– I just want to

Feel!

Their lips found each other and the sun could have risen and set the world on fire for all they knew was that this was real Heaven. Their hands found waists and the back of necks and silk strands of hair. They breathed the other in, fingers trying to immerse themselves into skin, blood singing a siren's song, bodies flush against hard lines and angles.

The collision and explosion of their passion, want, and need crackled around them, and going by the sudden and violent whoosh, Dean figured if he opened his eyes right now they'd be blinded by the wings he's pretty sure just materialized. Didn't mean it wasn't tempting, though the growl in Cas' throat certainly let him know Cas knew exactly what he was thinking. For once, he definitely didn't mind the angel's jedi mind tricks.

Mostly oblivious, except for the fact that every light in the warehouse suddenly blew and Crowley had to leave because of pigeon pixie dust, the remaining three members of Team Free Will wrapped up this oddly fitting finale with the final lyrics and crescendo.

Where do we go,

From here!

~8~

There we have it my lovelies! End of the road!

...Kidding! I decided to whip up a nice epilogue to tie all those loose ends in a nice big manly bow!

Stay tuned! xx