PART 3

CHAPTER 1

He hadn't seen what happened. One moment, Sam had been in the bathroom of their motel, just finishing tying one shoe and reaching to grab the other. It seemed like only a second passed, but suddenly he was lying facedown on a dirty floor in who-knows-where.

He pushed himself up slowly, quickly running through a mental inventory. He didn't feel hurt. All of his weapons were still tucked into his jacket pocket, including an iron dagger, and the gun filled with salt rounds that he'd taken to carrying with him everywhere ever since the day that the hellhounds had come for Dean.

His brother. Dean. Shit.

He quickly sat up the rest of the way, but there wasn't any sign of Dean anywhere – or of Cas, for that matter. Sam was in an empty storeroom somewhere. It was dark; the only light in the whole room was what had come through the streaked and dirty windows, just barely enough for Sam to see what was in front of him.

"Dean?" he called, standing and turning a slow circle around the room, scanning all of the corners for any sign that anyone was around. "Cas?" Nothing moved. As far as he could tell, he was completely alone.

That was when he heard the screams.

Instantly the gun was in his hands, and he ran for the door, grabbing the handle to yank it open. It didn't budge. He tried again, yanking on it as hard as he could, then stepped back and threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder against the door as hard as he could. Still, the door didn't move.

The window, then. Sam scrambled over to it, double checking that the safety was on before slamming the butt of the gun straight into the glass.

It should have shattered the window completely, or at least cracked it a little. Nothing happened. The glass wasn't even scratched.

There was a boy right outside the room. He was backed against the wall, right next to the window, separated from Sam by only the thin walls, but still, Sam couldn't get to him.

And there was a demon right in front of the boy. An Acheri demon, the kind that took the form of little children. Its hands were bared into claws, its face transformed into something deeply unnatural. And it was getting closer.

"No!" Sam screamed, and slammed the window with his gun again, and again, and again. It didn't do any good.

"No!" Sam repeated. Screaming also didn't help.

He was so close, but he couldn't break himself free, or find any way of busting out of the room.

There was nothing he could do except watch as the demon plunged its hand into the center of the boys chest. The boy screamed, then his voice cut off, and his body fell to the ground. And Sam knew that it was pointless, that it was already too late, but still, he couldn't stop himself from attacking the window, still trying to convince himself that he could break out, he could kill the demon, he could do something.

"Now really," a voice suddenly said from behind him, "there isn't any reason for that."

Sam spun around, gun out, the safety instantly clicked off.

There was a man there, one that Sam had never seen before. He raised his eyebrows, arms crossed over his chest. "Or for that, either," he said, distaste evident in his voice. "Really, Sam, I thought you were smarter than this. You can't hurt me with that."

It was dark enough in this storage room that it was hard to tell for sure, at least at first. Then the man tilted his head, and suddenly, Sam caught sight of his eyes. They were yellow.

Azazel.

"I can try," Sam said, practically snarling the words.

"Yes, but it's not going to work," Azazel said simply.

Sam pulled the trigger. Azazel just smiled.

The round vanished an instant before it would have struck him in the center of the chest.

"Nice shot," Azazel said, smiling at Sam, even looking like he was a little bit impressed. The thought made Sam nauseous. "But really, you should know better than to try that here."

"What do you mean?" Sam demanded.

Azazel's smile widened, and he took a step forward. "This isn't real, Sam," he said slowly. "Right now we're exploring that big ol' noggin of yours. Well, some of it is real," he amended after a moment, and shrugged. "But you're still watching it from inside your own head. The spell worked differently on everyone. Now, you're one of the last of my children who still needs to wake up."

Sam's hands tightened around his gun. "Wake up from what?"

"Now, there's no need to look so worried," Azazel said, holding up his hands in what was obviously meant to be a placating gesture. "You're not going to get hurt. Not right now, at least. I'll keep you safe until you're awake. After all, it wouldn't be very sportsmanlike to let someone tear you to shreds while you're still unconscious, now would it?"

Sam could feel his fingers practically twitching against the trigger, just aching to pull it again, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, he sucked in a breath, then narrowed his eyes. "Where are we?" he demanded. "Besides in my head, I mean? And why?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, and sure enough, Azazel just shook his head. "Where we are – well, that's for you to figure out." But then he paused, and gradually, a smile began to form on his lips. "As for why… Well, that, I can tell you."

He paused then, making Sam crazy with impatience, unable to tear his eyes off of Azazel, not even to turn around when he heard another scream from beyond the window. It was obvious that Azazel was enjoying this, savoring the anticipation, and all it did was make Sam want to hurt the bastard even more, but he forced himself to stay still, to not move. Rushing in would just be doing what the demon wanted. He had to keep calm, focus, and find a way to kill Azazel – one that the demon would never see coming.

Finally, Azazel seemed to decide that the wait had been enough, because his smile widened into a full out grin, and he said, "It's a test, Sammy. It's always been a test. And I've finally been able to bring you into it, just like I wanted. You really threw off all my centuries of planning when I couldn't find you last week, you know. Just like your angel pal messed us up when he took the Colt and ran, when we'd been counting on your dear old dad giving it to us. But we finally found a way around that." He paused, and patted the front of his jacket. Now that he was looking, Sam could just barely see the recognizable bulge of a gun hidden beneath his jacket. "Granted, we did decide to speed up the time frame, which I'm not too happy about. But then, now that we've got everything that we need, why wait, right?"

"A test of what?" Sam demanded. "Why?"

Azazel just kept smiling, and this time, it was obvious that he wasn't going to say a word.

Sam switched questions quickly. "How did you bring me here?"

This one, Sam could tell that Azazel had been waiting for. It was like this look of complete delight suddenly spread across his face, as though he'd been waiting for this question all along. "Now that one's an interesting answer," he said, and reached into his jacket.

Sam had expected the Colt, and braced himself to dive to the ground at the first sign of a gunshot, even though the Colt wouldn't be as powerful without the last bullet, still locked in the safe that they'd demon-proofed back when Dean had first been kidnapped. Instead, Azazel drew a blade with one smooth motion. That wasn't any more reassuring.

Sam stiffened, ready to jump back the moment that Azazel came at him with the knife – it didn't matter what the demon had said, Sam still wasn't going to trust Azazel not to hurt him. Azazel just shook his head, looking almost amused at Sam's reaction. Then, before Sam even had the chance to react, Azazel brought the blade down and cut a line across the palm of his own hand.

"Blood," Azazel said, his eyes not leaving Sam as he slowly tilted his hand to let a few drops spill into the dirt. "You know how summoning spells work, don't you, Sam? Now, I normally prefer to just send demons to do the work – having them kill the bystanders really makes the right impression, don't you think? But you didn't exactly leave me any other choices. That spell of yours might be able to keep me from finding you, but it didn't do anything against a summoning. All I needed was a part of you – a piece of clothing, some hair, a bit of you blood."

He tilted his hand a little more, and another drop fell. Sam's eyes followed it down, like he was mesmerized and couldn't look away.

"Of course," Azazel said slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper now, "I already had some of your blood, didn't I? Or, I suppose you could say that you have some of mine. Either way, it worked to summon my children just as well."

Sam couldn't help it – he shuddered. Normally he was able to ignore the fact that he had demon blood. Or, at least, he could shove it to the back of his mind, try to pretend that it wasn't constantly in his thoughts. Now, he swore that he could almost feel it swimming through his veins, tainting him from the inside out.

"You don't look surprised," Azazel said, taking a step forward and studying Sam curiously. Again, Sam shuddered, but he didn't let himself step back. No way was he going to let the demon see that he'd gotten to him.

Azazel just kept approaching, still watching Sam through narrowed eyes. "You already knew, didn't you? I should have guessed. You always manage to surprise me, Sammy. You and your brother."

Azazel was only a few feet away. Sam could feel his skin crawling, every nerve in his body practically begging him to move back, but he held his ground.

Azazel's jacket shook when he moved, and Sam could still see the outline where the Colt was held. If Azazel just came a little closer- If Sam could just be fast enough-

It wouldn't work properly, not without the final bullet, but it would be a start.

"It doesn't matter, though," Azazel said, and stopped walking. "You don't get special treatment just because you're doing the best so far. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told everyone else."

"And what's that?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice level, still watching Azazel. He was close enough now, his jacket hanging slightly open. Sam could practically see the butt of the Colt, just barely sticking out from behind the zipper of his jacket. If he just waited until Azazel was distracted enough-

Azazel grinned. Whatever he was going to say next, he was definitely excited about it. This could be Sam's chance.

"Survive," Azazel said simply. "Be the strongest. Because let me tell you, only one of you is going to walk out of here, and it could be you, Sam. All you have to do is make sure that everyone else dies first."

Sam heard the words, but didn't let his mind process them, not yet. He couldn't allow himself the distraction.

Instead, he lunged at Azazel, hand outstretched to rip the Colt from Azazel's pocket, ready to run the moment that it was in his hand, even if he knew that there was nowhere to go.

Azazel stayed still just long enough for Sam to see him shake his head.

Then Azazel was gone, and Sam was once again lying facedown on the dirt, slowly pushing himself up and blinking to try to clear his thoughts. His eyes felt heavy – no, more than that, his whole body felt like it was made of lead, like he'd been drugged and hadn't quite shaken the effects yet. Still, he pushed himself to his feet as fast as he could, staggering slightly before he regained his balance, spinning around to make sure that he was truly alone.

The room was completely empty except for him. Azazel was definitely gone.

Sam took a deep breath, and checked that all of his weapons were actually still where he'd left them. They were, exactly the way that he they'd been in the vision. Almost everything seemed to be the same, except his shoulder no longer ached from when he'd slammed it against the door, trying to break out in time to save the boy on the other side.

The boy. The moment that that thought occurred to him, Sam was rushing to the door, bracing himself for another attempt at break it down. This time, it opened on the first try, and he stumbled out into the street.

He was hoping that maybe Azazel had been wrong, or lying, or something. That the demon attack had just been in his head, or that it'd been another vision, and hadn't actually happened yet. But it only took a single second to realize that that wasn't the case. As soon as he was outside, the first thing he saw was the boy's corpse lying discarded on the ground, a scream still frozen on his face. There were two more bodies, a boy and a girl, both of them lying beside the first.

There was a noise behind him, like cloth rustling in the wind.

That was all the warning that he got before the Acheri demon attacked.

It was just enough warning for him to spin around and stumble back. The road was coated with blood, making it slick underfoot. Sam could feel it sliding under his shoe, and soaking into his sock on his shoeless foot. The demon was only a few feet away, baring its teeth, a sickening smile on its face. It watched him for one second, and then it pounced.

Sam raised the gun, barely managing to get it up between him and the demon before it was on top of him, and he pulled the trigger just as he felt the first brush of the demon's claws against his face.

The salt round exploded, and the demon screamed, disappearing into a cloud of smoke that made Sam double over, coughing like he was trying to hack up a lung. There was a reason why you tried not to get close to a demon like that. Or at least why you didn't want to breathe in while you were killing it.

He heard another noise from around the corner of the building, almost like footsteps. Instantly he spun around, gun raised, ready for another attack. It didn't come. Instead, there was a pause while he waited, and then a voice asked, "Is it gone?"

"Who's there?" he asked, then added, "Come on out." He lowered his gun, figuring that having a barrel shoved in their faces wasn't exactly going to make them feel more comfortable approaching him, though he kept his hands tight around it, ready to lift it and shoot at the first sign of danger.

The girl who'd spoken didn't seem like she was going to be dangerous, though. She slowly peeked her head around the corner of the building, eyes widening as she stared at Sam's gun. Her face was pale, her entire body shaking, but she slowly moved forward, approaching Sam with cautious steps. "What was that thing?" she asked, and it was hard to tell which trembled harder, her hands or her voice.

Sam frowned at the area where the Acheri had been just a moment before. "It was a demon," he said grimly.

"A demon?" the girl repeated incredulously, then immediately shook her head. "No. No way, that's not possible, that's-"

"You have a better idea of what's happening?" a different voice demanded, and this time, it was a boy who stepped around the corner, followed by another two girls, who were clinging to each other like they didn't know what else to do. The boy's eyes immediately went to the body on the ground, and he swallowed, then looked away. "We need to explain it somehow, don't we?" he added, his voice harsher this time.

"Yeah," the girl said, then shrugged and shook her head again. "But still..." she said, and let her voice trail off without saying anything more.

Sam turned his attention to the boy. He was dressed in army camouflage, and carrying a shotgun in both hands, looking like he knew how to use it. Sam nodded toward it. "Where'd you get that?"

"Found it in one of the houses," he said, holding it up like he was giving Sam a better look. "Plenty of bullets, too. Whoever brought us here, it looks like they wanted us to defend ourselves."

"Or kill each other," the first girl snapped. She was eyeing Sam's gun, terror practically engraved into her features, but there was something else there, something almost calculating, like she was trying to figure out how to get her hands on it. Sam narrowed his eyes at her, and tightened his grip on the gun. She looked away.

The boy pressed his lips together, but he nodded. "Or that," he said. "Doesn't mean that we gotta listen."

Sam nodded back. "I'm Sam Winchester," he said.

"Jake Talley," the boy responded, then glanced around the road. As far as Sam could tell, there weren't any other demons around – not here, anyway. Even so, Jake hefted his gun in his hands, and said, "Come on, we can save the rest of the introductions until we get somewhere safer. We've got a place."

Sam nodded again, and Jake led the way, Sam falling into step beside him, the other three huddling behind them, following directly at their heels. "How long have you been here?" he asked.

Jake shrugged, though he didn't look over at Sam – he was too busy scanning the area, keeping a watch out for demons. Sam was doing the exact same thing. "Don't think it's been an hour," he said. "There wasn't anyone really around when I woke up, but people keep stumbling out all of the time. A couple others and found a place with supplies, made a shelter. It's just a couple streets away."

It was just like Azazel had said, then, with Sam being one of the last to wake up. "What were you doing out here, if you've got a shelter?"

Again, Jake shrugged. "Looking for more people," he said. "Trying to figure out what the hell those creepy bastards are so that I can figure out how to kill them."

"You can't," Sam said. "Not with normal weapons, at least. But you can scare them off, and that should be good enough for now. You just need to hit them with iron, or salt. Both of them will hurt a demon bad enough that it can't stick around."

Jake still didn't turn to look at Sam directly, though Sam could see his eyes narrow, and the way he was glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "You know an awful lot about these things."

"Not the first time I've dealt with them," Sam said, and figured that that would be enough of an explanation. No time to get into the details now.

Jake still looked suspicious, though he didn't say anything more about it. Instead, he just nodded, then asked, "What else do you know?"

Sam frowned, running through the numbers in his head. "There were a hundred of us starting out," he said slowly, more talking to himself than to the others. "Azazel had already kidnapped half of them, but I don't know what happened to them – if they're still alive, or if they were even taken to this place in the first place." Though to be honest, he didn't think that there was a whole lot of hope for any of those who had already gone missing, not if they had been taken anywhere even close to this. Still, he wasn't going to count them as dead until he knew for sure.

Even so, he didn't think that most of them would be around here. If the only people around were those that Azazel had kidnapped with the spell just now, then that'd be a little less than fifty. Add in the people that Gordon had killed, and... "There would've been about forty of us starting out, minus however many are already dead." And Sam couldn't even imagine how big the number could be. Less than five minutes, and already he'd seen three bodies lying crumpled on the ground. If it had been happening for an hour already-

He didn't even want to think about it.

They turned a corner, and then avoiding the thoughts wasn't exactly a possibility. There were bodies lining the streets, at least four of them that Sam could see, and who knew how many more. Behind him, he could practically feel one of the girls shuddering, and another one gave a broken sob.

Jake kept his eyes locked straight ahead. "Attack," he said gruffly. "Big one. Come on, our shelter's right up here."

He led the way up to one of the bigger buildings. It still wasn't too large, but it probably had two stories, and it was in better shape than some of the other buildings around it. A lot of the places here looked like they were rotting away, or being eaten to pieces by the termites. This one looked like it was still in relatively good shape, at least. If Sam had had to pick one of these places to ride out a demon attack, this one definitely would have been high on his list.

Jake knocked on the door – three times hard, then a soft one, obviously some sort of code. Sam just had enough time to be impressed, and then the door slid open, just a crack. "Girls first," Jake said, and Sam nodded, stepping back to let them inside ahead of him. As soon as they were in, he gestured to Jake, trying to tell him to lead the way. Jake barely nodded, turning to step inside the door.

Then he spun, and in an instant, the barrel of the gun was pressed against Sam's chest.

"Don't even think about trying anything," Jake said, voice flat and eyes narrowed. "I saw you shoot that monster. You've only got salt in yours, and I've got real bullets. Mine are going to win."

"Okay," Sam said slowly, and gradually began lifting his hands over his head. "Listen, I don't want any trouble, alright?"

Jake shook his head sharply. "It's not my first time doing this, you know," he said. "Put the gun on the ground, right now."

"Okay, okay, I'm doing it," Sam said, and bent at the knee, lowering his hands until he could carefully set his gun beside his foot.

For all that Jake had said that this wasn't his first time doing this, he'd made one huge rookie mistake. He hadn't counted on the fact that this wasn't Sam's first time doing something like this, either. It was a move he'd practiced since he was a kid – hell, he was pretty sure that Dean had taught him how to dodge a bullet years before Dad had taught him to actually shoot one. When he'd been a kid, he'd drop to the ground, or attack the person's legs, or do a million other things that would lead to a barrel not pointing at his body any longer. As he'd gotten older, his strategy had changed.

By now, it was a move he'd made a hundred times. He straightened slowly, hands still raised, doing everything that he could to make it look like he wasn't about to start trouble. Then he lunged, closing his hands around the gun and yanking hard, ripping it out of Jake's hands.

Or, it should have ripped the gun away from Jake. Every other time that Sam had tried it, it had always worked. Now, though, the gun didn't even budge.

"That's not going to work," Jake said simply, then jerked the gun, hard enough to rip it from Sam's grip and send him stumbling back, barely regaining his balance before he tumbled backwards down the steps. Jake just took a step forward, moving to once again press the center of the barrel against the center of Sam's chest. "Now," he said, eyes narrowed, "you want to explain to me why you know so much stuff? Because it seems awfully suspicious, don't you think, that someone just happens to know the name of whoever had killed us, and everything that's going on, including how to kill them? Seems just a little too good to be real, don't you think?"

Sam shook his head. "If I was on the demons' side, trust me, I would've been a lot more subtle."

"Yeah?" Jake said, moving the gun slightly, arranging it so that it was positioned directly above Sam's heart.

Sam nodded, and forced himself to keep calm, not allow any reaction to show on his face. "You've seen what's been happening," he said, and spread his arms in a wide gesture meant to encapsulate the bodies on the street, the demons that had killed them, everything. "If you want to try to survive this, then you're going to need help."

"Yeah?" Jake asked, voice still calm and flat, with no hint of emotion peeking through. "And why should I trust you?"

"Because you don't have a choice," Sam said, his own voice copying Jake's. "Because at this rate, we're all going to die, and you're going to need me if you're going to stop it."

Sam watched Jake's face carefully, seeing the sour look grow on his features as he thought that over and realized that Sam was probably right.

"And if you're against us?" Jake demanded. "It's not going to be a whole lot of help if you get us killed."

"I can tell you that I'm not," Sam said slowly. "It's not going to make you believe me, I know that. But like I said, it's not as though you've got a whole lot of options."

Jake narrowed his eyes, glared at Sam for one last moment. Then he swore under his breath and lowered the gun. "Fine," he snapped. "Come on." He turned on his heels and shoved open the door, holding it just long enough for Sam to grab his gun off the ground and follow after.

"Careful," Jake grunted, and gestured down to the ground. Sam glanced at the floor, just in time to avoid accidentally stepping on the line of salt that had been stretched across the hallway, just far enough back that they could open the door without disturbing it. Sam stepped over it and gingerly followed Jake down the hall, still completely aware of the way that Jake was watching him like he was just looking for an excuse to point his gun at Sam again and actually pull the trigger this time.

"How'd you know to do that?" Sam asked, making a vague gesture down toward the salt lines. "I thought that you didn't know about demons?"

"I don't," Jake said shortly. "Someone else did."

They stepped into the living room then. It was surrounded by salt lines, too, ones much thicker than those placed in front of the doors, and there was a devil's trap drawn just outside the door, where it would be impossible for a demon to get through without going through it. The room was packed with people, slightly less than a dozen of them sitting around, clutching salt or shotguns or knives. Some of them had their eyes closed, their arms wrapped around themselves. Some of them watched his every move as he and Jake entered the room, looking like they would be willing to kill him even without a reason to.

Sam glanced back at the devil's trap again. "Who-?" he began.

That's when he heard it.

"Sam Winchester?" a voice asked, before he got the chance to finish his question. He recognized it immediately, and then he realized that he didn't need to ask. He'd just figured out the answer.

He turned toward the back wall, where the voice had been coming from. "Lily," he said. "Can't say that I'm happy to see you here."

"Same for you," she said, and shook her head. "Guess the demons got me after all, huh?"

Sam stepped toward her, glancing around the room again. "You set this up?"

She shrugged. "Needed someplace to go," she said. "This place had salt. And ink." She wrapped her arms around herself, and when she did, it pulled on her sleeve slightly, revealing another piece of ink – a black anti-possession tattoo drawn along the back of her wrist. "I've gotten better at drawing them. You know, just in case I lost the metal you gave me." He could see that she was still wearing that one, too, tucked under her shirt where just the top of the charm was visible.

"You two know each other?" Jake asked, eyes narrowing as he looked between Lily and Sam.

Lily nodded. "He's the one who taught me about this stuff," she said, then glanced back at Sam as she added, "We'd be dead if it wasn't for what you taught me."

Jake grunted, and didn't exactly look happy about it, but he did finally lower his gun completely. He was still holding it, but at least it wasn't pointed anywhere near Sam anymore, so he considered that to be an improvement.

"How many people do you have?" Sam asked, glancing around the room.

Lily shrugged. "Maybe eight or nine, besides us," she said. "We never really counted, honestly."

"Okay," Sam said, adding up the math in his head. Eight people here. Seven bodies outside, more or less – there was no way he was going to go count them, not when he didn't even want to picture them in his head. They'd died while he was still unconscious, knocked out by whatever spell Azazel had used to bring them here. It wasn't like there was anything he could have done to change that. Realistically speaking, he knew that, but that didn't mean that it was any easier to think about. Not when he could still see the corpses seared into his mind.

He shook that thought away and forced himself to focus. Even when you factored in the unknown number of Gordon's kills, that still left almost twenty people unaccounted for, maybe more. They could still be out there, hiding somewhere, which meant that the first thing that he had to do was find them.

Or they could be dead, but he didn't plan on dwelling on that possibility. Not until he had to.

"We need a plan," Jake said. "Something that we can do next."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. They needed a lot of plans – a plan for how to find everyone, a plan for how to keep the demons. How to escape, and where they'd go when they got out. How to track down Azazel and kill him before he could finish killing them. Trying to get a message to Dean and Cas, if he could.

There was no shortage of things that they needed to figure out, too many to focus on at once.

"Let's start with finding as many people as we can and bringing them back here," he said. The living room didn't have a window, so he couldn't see outside, but he could only imagine what kind of chaos was happening outside these doors. It wasn't like this place was completely safe – he didn't think that any place would be. Still, it'd be better than anywhere else, and the more people that they could protect, the better. "I'm going to head out," he said, checking the rounds in his gun, and nodding. He had enough. Hopefully. "Gather all of the survivors that I can. We'll work out the rest when I get back."

He didn't expect any arguments. Or, maybe they wouldn't like the fact that he was telling them what to do, ordering to hold off the planning until he was ready, but he didn't think they'd have a problem with the fact that he was going. And he was right. Neither of them looked bothered by it.

What he didn't expect was for Jake to nod, and heft his gun higher in his hands again. "Okay," he said. "I'm going with you."

"Me, too," Lily said. She wasn't holding a weapon, but her arms tightened around herself in a way that looked defiant instead of defensive this time.

Sam immediately shook his head. "It's dangerous," he said.

For a moment, Lily wavered, and Sam almost thought that that reminder would be enough to make her change her mind. Then she took a breath, and squared her shoulders. "I know," she said. "That's why you can't go alone."

Sam was just opening his mouth to protest again when someone behind him cleared their throat, and a small voice said, "I'm going to come, too."

Sam turned around, and blinked. "Ava?"

She gave him a small smile, one that was just as obviously forced as the one that he'd given Lily just a minute earlier. "Hi, Sam."

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "You saw what happened last time you got involved with something like this. And trust me, if those demons get their hands on you, you're going to be dealing with something much worse than a bullet wound."

If he'd been hoping that the mental image of Cas bleeding on the motel bed would be enough to change her mind, he was wrong. Instead, it just made her nod and square her shoulders. "I know," she said. "And I'll be honest, I was completely freaked out. But…" She stopped, sucked in a long breath. "All I want is to go home and to curl up on the couch with my fiancé and watch stupid TV marathons, and that's not going to happen unless we figure out a way to stop this… this demon, or whatever the hell. So I'm in."

Sam was going to protest more. Jake spoke before he could.

"Okay," Jake said, glancing around at the other three, then nodding once toward the group of them. "In that case, it looked like we've got a team."