Sam kept his breathing steady and even. It was a trick he had always been better at. Jessica had laughed about it when they had done yoga together, impressed by his ability to find his center and all that. He had appreciated the health benefits of good breathing exercises and self-control. At the time he had told himself it was helpful during the stress of finals and term papers. He'd probably always known if made him a better hunter when needed. Quiet. Controlled. Stealthy.

The second demon hadn't forgotten he was there, exactly. But she had dismissed him as not important. He'd kept the knife out of sight as much as possible, his body language loose and open even as he slowly inched his way closer. He ignored entirely the pitiful noises coming out her human shield. The man had already pissed himself at some point but still managed the occasional, desperate, full body jerk as he tried to escape her hold.

Sam would need to be close if he wanted to have a chance at saving the man's life. Dean was doing his best to give him that opportunity, being as annoying to demons as only he knew how. Honestly, it must be special talent of his brother's to drive supernatural creatures into a rage. The demon in the Sheriff seemed to be the ringleader of this little show, and he was busy shouting and not paying much attention to the three other people in the room. He just needed a little bit longer, just a few more feet…

But he also knew it was like a high speed collision. You could slam on the brakes as much as you wanted, but at some point, impact was going to happen. The demon reached for his brother and Dean did the only thing he could. He fired.

Sam didn't have time to check why or whether it was enough to protect his brother. He lunged forward instead, grabbing for the demon, hoping his size and the element of surprise would be enough to pull her back.

It wasn't.

The man let out a half choked scream that ended in something that sound more like a gurgling noise. The knife in the demon's hand was small but sharp and long enough to dig in deep to the man's side. The struggle to get her off of him only twisted the knife deeper, tearing through more chunks of flesh until slipping free. Sam ignored it.

He jabbed upward with his own knife. He only needed one good hit, but the demon was quicker and stronger and seemed to understand the threat the knife truly was. She lashed out at his arm, knocking it away almost hard enough to crack bone before her own knife was back up and flying towards his face. It wasn't strictly speaking a good target to aim at, not nearly as fleshy and vital as certain other parts of him were, but it had the anticipated psychological effect of getting him to back off quickly.

Guns were firing all over the room.

Dean had shot the Sheriff once in the chest. It sounded like Mulder had followed that up with more rounds, and part of Sam was pleased to know the FBI wasn't fooling around. And Sam was twisting around, trying to avoid that bloody knife, when Scully fired one round dead center into the woman. It was a damn good shot, especially since it didn't hit him in the process. Hopefully it hadn't been a coincidence but calmly calculated and supported by an assurance in her own skill level. Because with the way the two of them were tussling, she could have easily taken out half of Sam's head.

Scully seemed to think the same thing because she cursed and gave up on trying to shoot his assailant.

Sam dodged another powerful blow and side stepped around some of the debris on the floor, trying to give himself some space to work in. He could hear things crashing on the other side of the room and more than one bitten off curse and grunt.

In the peripheral of his vision he could see Agent Scully crouched on the floor by the vic, her hands buried in cloth and jacket and blood as she tried to hold the man's guts together. It was a lost cause, but she'd mentioned something about being a doctor by trade and maybe having one on sight might mean the difference between life and death.

There wasn't much she could do to help Sam anyway. He had the knife, he just had to find an opening good enough to get it in. Without turning into a pincushion himself.

Dean fired and Mulder fired only a moment afterwards. The man had managed to move himself far enough to one side to have a clear shot without endangering anyone else in the room. And he took advantage of it. He fired the double round in the shotgun cleanly into the demon, but didn't stop there. Once the shotgun was empty, he dropped it and switch to his personal weapon, adding two more direct hits to the torso. It may have been a bit like throwing pebbles at an angry dog, but it was enough to get the demon to stumble back away from Dean.

Dean dove to the side, more willing to risk getting caught by friendly fire than stay within arm's reach of a demon. That thing would snap his neck like an old twig if it got ahold of him. He'd rather get a bit perforated than dead.

He didn't need to worry about it. Apparently Mulder did a good enough job to get the demon's attention focused on him. With a wave of one hand the demon sent Mulder flying backwards into the wall with a crack that sounded more than just painful. Dean got one knee under him to steady himself and started firing as quickly as possible. If they could tag team it enough, they might be able to keep the demon pinned between the two of them. And Dean had learned long ago how to fire a gun and recite a prayer at the same time.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis-"

The only problem was, Dean couldn't fire a gun, recite an exorcism and have a table thrown at him at the same time. The old diner tables might have looked rickety and falling apart in the dim light, but their metal legs were hard enough when they cracked against your skull. Getting pegged with one was enough to knock Dean to the ground, his gun out of his hands and send it sliding under the booth next to him.

He twisted around, trying to shove one arm under the seat to grab it while at the same time keeping his head up and alert. He had only the blink of an eye to make the decision to abandon the gun in favor of getting his arms up to defend himself as the demon closed in on him.

The first blow caught him on the forearm, nearly knocking him over and hurting like a bitch, but still better than catching it with his head. The second was closer, raining down on him in a sloppy blow to the shoulder and upper back as he curled in to protect himself. It was all power and force and no finesse and Dean took a third blow for the chance to wiggle his way under the demon's guard and slam his fist up into its stomach. You couldn't really knock the wind out of a demon – they didn't really breathe – but you could knock them back enough to slug them across the face.

Dean put his whole body into the blow, even if it meant staggering a bit himself. Thank god he did, however, because Mulder tried firing another round. Shooting while probably concussed from getting thrown into a wall was not a bright idea and Dean did not appreciate it when it meant a bullet whizzing by his nose.

The demon apparently thought it was fucking hilarious and used a two handed open palm thrust to shove Dean back and off his feet. He crashed to the ground back near the door and groaned as all kinds of new things hurt.

Mulder had managed to get his feet under him and started emptying his clip into what used to be the Sheriff.

Dean struggled once more back to his feet, slipping on bits of broken chair and table top. Mulder was swaying a bit, not looking too steady on his feet, but he had both hands up, steadying his gun and a look on his face that was all focus. Dean spared a moment to check his brother. He knew he was still on his feet and fighting by the amount of noise coming from that side of the room. Sam had one nasty slash mark on his upper arm, but he was still moving easily enough. He just wasn't making any headway. While the main demon punched like he'd only ever seen it on TV, the woman clearly knew how to handle a blade. She wasn't giving Sam an inch and she had the endurance on her side to wait until she wore him down to win the fight. Scully was still hovering over the guy Mike, a small pool of blood leaking out from under the dude and her face tight and pinched in a way that suggested he wasn't going to make it, no matter who won here today.

She was also whispering frantically to him and it took Dean a moment to realize it wasn't reassurances or last rites.

Well then. Dean could get on board with this.

Mulder took another backhand to the face that was enough to almost snap his neck. He went flying like a rag doll. Dean got his feet under him in the meantime and jumped.

The Sheriff was shorter than Dean but built like a brick house and infested with a demon. The impact of Dean's weight catching him across the back didn't even make him stumble. Dean locked one arm around the guy's neck. Choking him out wouldn't work and was laughable as even an idea. But a neck lock was the best way for Dean to cling like a limpet to the man's back and make things as difficult as humanly possible for the demon. Sure, he had super strength on his side but it was hard to properly put that to use when something was on your back and busy yanking on your head.

It would only work for a few seconds and he could feel the exact moment the demon realized the real threat wasn't the monkey on his back but Agent Scully calmly but quickly reciting her way through a basic exorcism.

The demon jerk, obviously planning to jump ship and Dean did the only thing he could think of. He shoved his hand in the demon's mouth. It could have ended very badly for him. The human mouth was a nasty disgusting thing, and one with demon strength behind it could probably bite down and take half of his hand right off. But the demon was more interested in trying to get out of its body than harming Dean.

It likely wouldn't have been enough if Mulder hadn't managed to pull himself back into the fray. They'd given both of the agents disposable water bottles filled with holy water. As a sort of last resort, since it wouldn't actually stop the demon and it was sort of hard to effectively throw water at another person. But as a delay tactic, it worked wonders. Dean got a face full of cold water, but the demon under him screamed in agony on contact.

It was the last thing the demon did before Agent Scully sent his ass back to hell where it belonged.