Title: Armageddon

Rating: T

Warnings: Major spoilers for "Utopia", "The Sound of Drums" and "Last of the Time Lords"; violence; mild language; allusions to rape (but I promise nothing explicit or graphic)

A/N: Sorry for this being late! I tried, I really did, to get it up on time! Unfortunately, it's been nearly impossible to find time to actually write lately. Three little girls running around the house (ages 5, 6, and 7) make it very difficult to sit down and think, and they've been with us all week long. Still. I hope it's forgivable given that it's not *too* late.

I really appreciate your patience with me, guys! You've all be so fantastic while I slowly slog my way through writing this. Thanks! And thanks as well for the reviews! You guys are fantastic!

Now, onto the story!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Forty-Seven

They wasted no time in getting to action. They pack up their weapons and their plans; McGee, Ash, Abby, and Garcia sent a message to the others letting them know what was going and that they would be out of contact for a while. They shut down their computers, unhooked everything and started carefully getting them ready for the move. Ash brought out the satellite phones and they divvied them up after a drawn out discussion of who was going where.

They'd talked about splitting up more than once before, but given how often many of them were away on food runs or weapons installations it seemed like something that could be put off. Now they decided they couldn't risk housing so many people in one area again.

Gibbs would take one group: Tony, McGee, Ducky and Abby immediately volunteered to go with him, and after some thought, Prentiss decided to go with them as well. Fornell also went along with them.

Hotch was in charge of another group, mostly consisting of his team: Reid, Morgan, Garcia, Jessica and of course his son. Grace VanPelt and Rigsby joined them too.

Rufus was in charge of another group, consisting of Sam, Dean, Adam, Garth, and Ash.

Lisbon was in charge of the final group: Jane, Shawn, Henry, Gus, Juliet, Grace Holloway and Charlie.

More or less they were in equal groups—surprisingly they were not exactly the same groups as they had been separated in originally, though much remained the same. They made certain that everyone had enough food, enough ammo and enough weapons to keep them safe until they could find more permanent solutions. They all had at least one person who knew technology frontwards and backwards and were more than prepared to get going.

The same night that they received the Doctor's message Hotch, Gibbs, Morgan and Tony went out and found cars for them to drive. They were low of gas and had to ration it very carefully, all figuring that they'd end up walking sooner or later anyway. They tried to get large vehicles—SUVs and jeeps. They would still be cramped with the size of their groups, but it was far more manageable than taking several separate cars.

"Are we all set?" Juliet asked, nervously pulling at her hair. They were all armed and all tense as they gathered together in the bunker for the last time. Faces were lined with fear, but they were used to that. They'd spent the majority of the last year living with fear.

Gibbs looked around, clutching at a rifle in a white-knuckled grip. He seemed better—at least more even tempered than he had since Jenny's death. But Tony didn't believe for a moment that he was ready to give up his bloodthirsty quest for the Master. When Gibbs was angry and he got quiet, it was a bad sign. Tony didn't like that it could mean.

"All set," Tobias said. "Let's move out."

It took nearly ten minutes to get everything and everyone packed into the cars. Ash and Abby had worked together to create GPSs for each group considering any GPSs they found was more than likely linked into Archangel and potentially another set of eyes for the Master. They'd already decided on final destinations—far enough apart not to give the other groups away, but close enough that they could travel the distance if need be.

It felt oddly like an ending to something very special as they drove off in separate directions. There was a sense of finality to it all that made everyone feel nervous, the tension hanging heavy in the air. No one said anything, and they kept their goodbyes short, hugging one another and promising to send out a message as soon as they had arrived at their destinations.

They managed to make it an impressive distance before anything went wrong.

~/.\~

With Gibbs at the wheel they were making better than excellent time. Even in this near-apocalyptic world, trying to hide from the Master's soldiers, he drove faster than the average person would ever dare. It at least seemed to make Tony a little less on edge; Gibbs driving slow would have meant that something was very, very wrong.

They were nearly fifty miles out before they spotted another vehicle, and it was one the sleek, black SUVs that the Master's soldiers used. It was obviously not workers or people on the run; the car appeared to be in perfect condition and the windows were all tinted unreasonably dark.

"Shit," Gibbs swore and shifted in the driver's seat, pulling out a revolver. Tony, Fornell, Prentiss and McGee followed suit with their own guns. They had falsified travel permits like the Master had given to some medical personnel, but with the Doctor's warning hanging over their heads they doubted that they wouldn't be recognized as fugitives.

They were impossibly tense as the SUV drove past them, nearly shaking their vehicle with its speed. From the dark tint on the windows they couldn't tell if the occupants had taken any notice of them at all, but they relaxed minutely as the car vanished around a curve.

"That was close," Tony whispered, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He had to force himself to loosen the vice-like grip he had on his gun and click the safety back off on it. He felt Prentiss squeeze his hand in her own and turned to look at her, but her eyes were straight forward, staring ahead with a hard expression. He noticed McGee and Abby in similar positions—except that it was McGee squeezing Abby's hand and he was watching her anxiously while she clutched onto the seat and stared at Gibbs.

None of them saw it coming when the dark SUV suddenly reappeared behind them and rammed into them.

Their car lurched forward and Fornell's head slammed into the dashboard. He sat up with dazed eyes, blood trickling down his forehead. Gibbs's eyes were on the rearview mirror. The SUV had backed off at the first violent attack and seemed to be drifting to a slower speed.

Without warning, Gibbs slammed his foot down onto the accelerator and they shot forward.

"Damn it!" Tony gasped, clutching onto the seat in front of him. "A little warning next time, Boss."

Gibbs said nothing, barely sparing him a glance in the mirror. Tony shifted around and looked out the back window. It was cracked and the hatch was caved in, but the car looked otherwise fine. It was surprisingly stable. He reached for his gun again. Before he could suggest taking out their attackers, Gibbs spoke.

"Shoot out their windows. Aim high. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"They had to have their windows blocked out," Prentiss muttered next to him, her head hot against his ear. He saw her readying her gun from the corner of his eyes, but he kept his attention on what he could see from the damaged back window.

"That's not even legal," McGee said. Tony blinked and almost corrected him, pointing out how very little legality mattered to the Master, but when he glanced over at McGee he noticed how pale and pinched his face was. It probably was the only thing McGee could rely on at the moment—rules, regulations and laws. He let the comment pass.

"They're coming at us again, Jethro," Fornell warned as the SUV started to catch speed again. Gibbs's eyes flickered back to the mirror before turning toward the road. He pressed his foot against the gas as far as it would go.

Tony's ears suddenly rang as a gun went off right near his head. Everything was suddenly too loud and too quiet. Prentiss was grimacing, but only gave him an apologetic look as her bullet shattered their window more and passed right through the windshield of the approaching SUV. It left a neat, splintering hole, somewhere near where the drive might have been. Given that the SUV didn't stop, they figured she'd missed.

Suddenly, there was shooting in earnest, from both parties. They ducked low in their seats and fired, almost blindly, toward the attackers while bullets rained down on them from the other vehicle. Even with the loud, buzzing ring in his ears, Tony could hear Prentiss swearing and glanced over to see her clutching at her shoulder, blood staining her fingers.

At least it was her shoulder.

"BOSS, THEY'RE GAINING ON US!" McGee's panicked voice rose over the sounds of gunfire. They couldn't push their car any faster than they were, but the now bullet-riddled SUV behind them was still fast approaching.

Tony risked sitting up a bit over the backseat where he and Prentiss were situated and fired off two shots. They hit in the splintering parts of the windshield where other bullets had already pierced. The fractures in the glass opened up to give them a nice sized hole, letting them have a limited view of the occupants.

Definitely the Master's soldiers—they were dressed in the familiar black uniforms and carrying large rifles and handguns. The driver was still mostly hidden from view, but Tony could see a shoulder. He couldn't help but smile noticing that a couple of the men in the back were bleeding and injured.

A bullet whizzed by his ear from behind him—Fornell or McGee must've taken a shot—and he watched in what was almost slow motion as the bullet slammed into the SUV driver's exposed shoulder. The fast moving car lurched and jerked, nearly spinning out of control. It was corrected too quickly though and suddenly seemed to be going impossibly faster.

They fired with a desperate sort of abandon as the car got closer and closer, bullets still flying at them dangerous. Tony heard more swears from the others and then Abby screamed, but he didn't have time to turn around and see what had happened to make her so terrified.

The SUV slammed into them a second time, much harder than the first. They spun and at the speed they were going Gibbs had to fight to keep them from tipping over entirely. Prentiss and Tony were thrown forward from the back seat—a searing pain jerked through Tony's shoulder and he wasn't sure if he'd dislocated it or broken something, but it hurt like hell at the same.

He landed in McGee's lap, toppling over him awkwardly. He scrambled to right himself, clutching at his now useless left arm. Sucking in a hard breath, he pushed up and shifted over, nearly collapsing on top of Ducky, who was with Abby, ducked far down in the seat to avoid the bullets. Ducky was holding Abby around the shoulders, his eyes wide with terror. It took a second for Tony to realize what Abby was staring at with tear-filled eyes. Fornell was slumped over in the front seat, blood pooling and dripping toward the floorboards slowly.

Bile rose in his throat and he clenched his eyes shut. No time to grieve. No time to worry. Later, if they made it out of this alive, they could let this hit them.

He shifted and grimaced, putting his knees underneath him. He couldn't lift his left arm and decided that the shoulder was definitely dislocated. At least his right arm was still functioning. There were cuts littering his skin from stray glass shards and he thanked whatever God was listening that he hadn't gotten any in his eyes. Prentiss was shoving herself up next to him, blood pouring from her mouth and nose. She wiped at it with her free hand and he realized that that she was now shooting left-handedly. Her right arm was handing at a horrifying angle, already messed up from the bullet in her shoulder.

He surveyed the damage to the back and felt queasy. The entire hatch and back window were gone. The seat was shoved in and broke, barely hanging on. Wind rushed through the now giant tear and Prentiss's hair whipped around violently. He ignored it all. The pain, the sickness, the encroaching grief… He forced himself to focus on one thing: shooting.

He dug bullets from his pockets and reloaded the gun, ducking down beneath the headrest as he did so. Above him Prentiss and McGee were still shooting and a vindictive, angry part of him hoped they had killed someone. He sat up and fought not to smile as he realized one of the back passengers was probably dead by the looks of things, and so was the soldier riding shotgun.

They were getting close again—too close—and Tony let off several shots at once, not noticing where any of the bullets actually went. With the wind rushing by him, his ears ringing, and his eyes stinging with pain he wasn't sure that his aim was all that great, but it was better than nothing.

The SUV was inches from them and he barely blinked before they lurched again, this time sending the car spinning wildly. He could hear Gibbs swearing, fighting for control, but they were hit again, this time in the side, sending Abby and McGee flying to one side and leaving Ducky buried underneath them.

They continued spinning and spinning for what felt like forever. Tony could smell blood and burnt metal and the stale scent of air bags being deployed. Shattering glass and overheated plastic made his nose burn and his entire body felt tight as they jerked around. By the time they came to a stop he felt like a bobble-head doll—his head lolled around painfully, a pressure building behind his temples. Blood was dripping from somewhere, but he wasn't sure if it was even his.

Someone climbed over top of him, knees and an elbow in his chest. He dazedly realize it was Prentiss, bloody and shaking and her eyes wide and dilated. Her gun was clutched in wobbling hands and she held it up. Footsteps that seemed too loud and too quiet were coming closer and suddenly Tony's ears burst with several explosions going off, one after another.

He belated realized it was Prentiss, firing her weapon.

Her breathing looked labored and he noticed that there was a lot of blood staining the shirt she was wearing. He hoped it wasn't all hers, though a good deal of it seemed to be coming from her shoulder wound. He tried to sit up and maybe he even said something, but he couldn't really hear himself anymore over the horrible ringing in his ears.

He watched as she fell over, eyes still open but unfocused. He prayed it was adrenaline and shock and nothing more serious. He finally managed to get up and peer cautiously though the shattered window to his left. The black SUV sat before them—shiny, but dented and broken.

Two soldiers lay on the gleaming asphalt, blood forming a puddle around them. The doors to their vehicle stood open, revealing two more dead soldiers inside and a third who looked to be severely bleeding and barely hanging on to life.

Relief flooded him and he closed his eyes for a moment before suddenly being gripped by a hard hand. He blinked his eyes open and saw McGee—cut up and wide-eyed, but surprisingly no worse for the wear. He was saying something, but he had to repeat it several times before Tony realized what he was saying: "We've got to get out of here."

Nodding, Tony sat up and moved toward the door to his right, kicking with all his might. McGee and Abby soon joined him. Prentiss was still laying there, breathing too fast and staring at nothing. He felt a surge of terror well up and kicked even harder, pleased when the door made a loud grating noise and flew open.

He crawled out first, turning to help McGee and Abby out. Ducky followed slowly and together they eased Prentiss out. She had blood all over her face, but when Tony tried to wipe it off she swatted at him and shook his head, mostly responsive even if her movements were slowly.

"'m fine," she insisted. Her voice was hoarse and gurgled, but at least she was talking.

"What about—" Abby's voice caught and her eyes darted to the front passenger seat.

Tony grimaced. "We'll ask Gibbs," he said. "He'll know what to do."

Which was when Tony realized that Gibbs was still in the car. He stumbled to his feet and McGee had to catch him. The other man said something about taking it easy, but he at least had to help Gibbs out. He moved around to the other side of the car, using what was left of the vehicle as a crutch. Abby and McGee were right behind him while Ducky looked over Prentiss.

Gibbs's door seemed relatively unscarred and opened easy. Tony got that uneasy feeling in his gut again and shifted to block Abby's view as he leaned inside. His hands shook as he grasped Gibbs by the shoulder and shook him gently.

"Boss?" His voice cracked. "Boss?"

Gibbs's slumped body fell back and revealed the bloody mess that was his face. Tony felt bile threaten to rise up and wasn't sure if he would be able to stop it this time. Fumbling, he shook his head and didn't notice the burning tears in his eyes. His fingers found Gibbs's throat and he felt for a pulse, breathing too hard when he wasn't able to find one.

"Tony? Tony what's going on? Is Gibbs…? Is he…?" Abby's voice was right behind him and he felt suddenly sick and numb at the same time. She pushed him out of the way and started shaking Gibbs herself, fingers getting stained with his blood as she searched for a pulse or a breath or any sign of life.

Her voice cracked off and something in Tony felt broken.

"Gibbs?" She sounded so damn young. There were tears spilling down her face already. "Gibbs?!"

She broke off into sobs and Tony wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't even sure what he was feeling. He was grateful when McGee pulled her into his arms and hugged her to his chest, letting her cry on his shoulder while he stood there, fighting his own tears even as they felling from his eyes.

~/.\~

It was Jane who first noticed the Toclafane approaching them. They were nearly at their destination—a small town just inside the border of Nevada that had been abandoned after the Master's takeover. Jane was sitting in the backseat with Charlie and Henry. Gus, Juliet and Shawn were in the middle seat while Grace Holloway sat in the front beside Lisbon.

"Um, Lisbon?" Jane tried not to sound too worried as he turned his attention back toward the woman up front. "We've got an issue."

"An issue?" Lisbon's brows scrunched and she turned her eyes to the rearview mirror, starting to ask what he meant when she spotted the Toclafane—four of them—following behind them, their little lights blinking as they were undoubtedly speaking to them.

"Damn it," Lisbon swore. "Where are the handheld weapons?"

"Here!" Shawn was already digging them out from where they had put them—within easy reach for just this occasion. Juliet followed his example, snatching them and passing them back to Charlie, Henry and Jane. Jane held his like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He'd used them a couple of times, but he was still not comfortable wielding the large weapons.

Gus turned around and watched the floating black balls as they got closer. He felt a pang of uselessness hit him in the chest as he stared down at where his missing hand had once been. He was not fond of weapons, but he would have gladly hefted these guns if he could have. Juliet glanced over at him and put a hand on his elbow.

"Here," she said, "let's try something."

She pulled the last weapon—the one meant for Lisbon, but she was driving—out and carefully lifted it so that it was against the seat. She pushed Gus toward it so that it rested on his shoulder and smiled.

"Hold it steady with the seat and your shoulder. Fire with your hand, here," she tapped the trigger with her fingers. "You can't really aim much, but it's still something."

He smiled at her appreciatively and nodded. There was a quick, faint buzz and Juliet whirled around to realize that Charlie had just fired her weapon, knocking out one of the Toclafane with surprising easy. They were still rather far away, not easy targets. No one else had wanted to risk taking a shot at that distance given how limited their guns were.

Charlie shrugged a bit sheepishly. "What? I played a lot of video games…"

Henry laughed and shook his head. "Never thought video games would be good for target practice," he said. He was still smiling when the laser hit him. His eyes went wide and almost comically round before he fell ridged forward.

Charlie shrieked and Jane jumped away in shock. Juliet and Gus stared, not entirely sure that what had just happened had really happened. Before Juliet could even think to turn to Shawn, he was nearly halfway over the seat, eyes frantic.

"Dad? Dad!? No, no, come on! Henry! Dad!"

He was shaking the limp body with a mindless sort of desperation that made Juliet's eyes water. She eased forward and put a hand on Shawn's shoulder, gently tugging him back in the seat. Another laser blast barely missed her head as she ducked down and stared into his eyes.

"Shawn, stop,"

He was crying. She had never in her life seen Shawn cry. She'd never seen him even remotely emotional until this had all happened. Somehow those tears made her feel even worse and she wanted to hug him and tell him that she was sorry, but she couldn't get the words out and suddenly the glass of the window beside them shattered and thousands of tiny cuts opened up on them all, bleeding sluggishly.

Another buzz hummed through the air. Gus this time. His shot nearly missed, but one of the little black spheres still fell to the ground. With the window busted, they could just make out the faint, metallic and childlike voices of the Toclafane over the wind.

Juliet let her hand drop from Shawn's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Shawn, but he's gone."

Shawn just shook his head and said nothing. He was so quiet, turning his attention back to his father, holding his head in his hands and whispering at him, begging him to be alright. Begging him to be alive. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she used her own weapon, heaving it up at the right height and ignoring how it wobbled in her grasp.

Lasers were shooting in earnest now, crisscrossing through the inside of the car. They were forced to duck and weave around them, holding their heads just barely above the seats to avoid getting hit. The remaining two Toclafane were circling around, keeping pace with them as they fired on them, telling them over and over to surrender.

Juliet fired and missed. Her jaw tightened and she squinted, firing again a few moments later and watching with satisfaction as the Toclafane fell like a lead balloon, smashing into the road. One more to go.

The other Toclafane seemed to have vanished. The lasers had stopped. She swallowed hard and looked around, turning her head in every direction.

"Is it…" Charlie hesitated. "Is it gone?"

"I don't see it," Lisbon said, keeping her voice low just in case it was nearby and could still hear them. They couldn't even hear the faint sound of the voice any longer and there was no humming sound as it flew around and around. There was nothing.

For a long tense moment, they held their breath and waited.

One long, bright laser shot out suddenly toward the driver's side window—narrowly missed hitting Lisbon as she jerked back and it shot right past her face, sheering through Grace's loose hair.

"Grace!" Lisbon swerved as she turned to stare in horror at Grace, who was pale and shaking.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm fine. It just missed me."

Juliet swallowed thickly and squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment. They still couldn't spot the Toclafane. It was so quiet, aside from the loud rush of air through the shattered window. She stared hard at the side of the road where the shot had come from and suddenly felt the air buzz as Charlie fired her weapon again, the energy shooting out and heading straight for a small, black blur. It stopped midair and twisted toward the ground. Charlie lowered her weapon, eyes wide, and turned to look at Juliet.

Juliet breathed hard.

"That's the last one," she whispered.

Shawn was still holding Henry. Gus had shifted in his seat, dropping his weapon to wrap an arm around his friend. Lisbon and Grace were visibly shaking. Jane was staring at Henry's body with the look of a shell-shocked solider and Juliet almost asked if he was alright before deciding that none of them were alright.

No one spoke. Lisbon kept driving and no one said a single word as they continued toward their destination; Shawn was still clutching Henry's body and mouthing words that made no sound as the tears dripped down his cheeks.

~/.\~

They were dangerously close to having to abandon their SUV and walk the rest of the way when Adam spotted a lone gas station with a rickety, rusty sign advertising their prices. The gas pumps looked old and unused.

"Think they even work?" Sam asked, brows scrunching together.

"Worth the risk," Ash said. "I don't see anyone waitin' to jump out at us."

He did have a point there. The inside of the store was dark and boarded up in some places. There were no cars and no discernable forms of life aside from a few bugs that were wandering around on the ground. It was getting late and they didn't particularly want to have to walk the last twenty-odd miles of their journey. If they could manage to siphon any gas from the pumps it would be worth it.

And, of course, given that they were all taller than average and cramped into the vehicle, it would feel good to stretch their legs.

Rufus pulled into the lot and parked next to one of the pumps, squinting at it suspiciously as they all climbed out and sighed in relief as their muscles were able to move freely.

"Keep it quiet," Rufus ordered. "We don't wanna attract any attention. We might be out in the middle of nowhere, but the Master's men and those Toclafane are everywhere. I want us in and out of here in ten minutes or less."

Dean saluted him, only partly mocking.

"Think there's any food in there?" he asked, tilting his head and studying the rundown store.

Sam raised a brow. "Doubt it's still good."

"Worth a look," Ash said, already heading toward the doors. "They've probably got beer."

"Ash," Sam frowned, shaking his head. "No. Ew."

"Power's probably been cut for months," Garth said. "Any alcohol in there has gone way bad."

Ash gave them both a disgruntled look and shook his head. "Dudes. Beer is beer."

He turned and headed toward the storefront, probably glad to finally be able to get out of Rufus's bunker for the first time in forever. Adam moved over to stand by Sam and Dean and Garth while Rufus tried to get the gas pumps to work.

"He's serious, isn't he?" Adam asked.

"I'm scared to find out," Sam replied, smiling slightly.

"Hey!" Rufus called over to them. "One of you go with him. Check and see if you can find anything inside that'll turn these things on."

"On it!" Garth volunteered immediately, hurrying after Ash, who was fiddling with the locked doors.

That was when the first shot rang out, loud in the stillness. It took a moment to realize the source and then another to recognize the damage as blood erupted from somewhere near Ash and then Sam was running as another shot exploded into the air and Garth was suddenly crumpling to the ground.

"Fuck!" Dean had his gun out and turned to Adam, immediately making sure he had his as well before push the kid toward the cover to the SUV.

"Stay down," he ordered. "Shoot. Don't hesitate."

He waited until Adam nodded, face ashen and hands shaking, before he left, with Rufus already ahead of him, holding a rifle he'd yanked out of the car.

"Where the hell did they shoot from?" Dean demanded.

"No idea," Sam was kneeling on the ground, one hand soaked in blood, the other clutching tight to his pistol. He swallowed and grimaced, looking toward Ash and Garth. "They're dead."

Dean didn't look. Didn't want to look. He closed his eyes for a second and nodded. It was easier, now, to remind himself that it was a part of the job. His dad's voice was yelling in his ear, telling him to watch Sam's back, to do whatever he could to keep his brother safe.

"Had to have come from in the store," Rufus said. "Nowhere else they could've got any cover out here."

"So we go in?" Dean asked.

"What about Adam?" Sam's eyes shot to the young man, still crouched where Dean had left him, clutching his gun tightly with wide, wild eyes.

"Leave him out here. If they're inside they'll have to go through us to get to him anyway. He's safer there."

Sam nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's get moving."

It was easier than they'd expected to pry the doors open. One hard shove from Sam and Dean and they nearly shattered. Inside it was musty and dark, very little sunlight making its way in through the crack of exposed glass. Shelves were toppled over and scattered bags of food rested all over the place. Freezers and refrigerators sat, full and dark.

Movement to their right caught Sam's eyes and he turned, firing. A loud swear meant their ears and they moved toward it. Two shots rang out, narrowly missing Sam and ripping through Dean's pants and grazing his thigh.

"Motherfucker," he hissed and screwed his eyes shut as pain shot through his leg. The blood was already blossoming out, staining the fabric a dirty, dark color. He pressed a hand against it for a moment, but forced himself to grit his teeth and keep moving.

Movement again, and then a blond head popped up, wearing the familiar uniform of the Master's men. He fired, a perfect shot right between the eyes. The guy dropped.

Then another shot exploded and then another, from the opposite side of the store. Rufus jerked as the bullets sank into his chest.

Sam caught him before he fell, but his knees crumbled under the weight. It took a second, but Rufus latched onto Sam's shoulder and dragged himself upright, eyes blazing as he cocked the rifle and let of a shot.

He fell when the weapon kicked back and his head slammed into the hard floor. Blood pooled from the wounds in his chest and he hacked up a bloody cough, grimacing.

Wherever his bullet had gone, it had hit something. They could hear another set of ragged breaths and muted swears and followed them cautiously. As they got closer two more bullets whizzed by them. A third slashed right by Sam's ear and he yelped, pressed a hand against it to staunch the blood flow that suddenly poured down his neck.

"Shit," he hissed.

Dean eyed him worriedly, but Sam kept moving, pushing ahead of him and peering carefully around one of the shelves that were still standing up. Another shot burst forth and Dean yanked his brother back in time to stop him from getting a face-full of bullet. Sam seemed undeterred and jerked from Dean's grasp, taking aim and firing two quick shots that stopped the ragged breathing of the solider.

Swallowing, he turned and kept a hand pressed against his ear.

"Check on Rufus," he said. "I'm gonna go check on Adam."

Dean watched him warily, wanting to tend to the wound on his head. But he nodded and moved to go back to Rufus, whose injuries, he had to admit, were far worse. He found the old man barely breathing and holding one hand on his bloody chest. The other clutched the rifle tight.

"Rufus?" Dean touched his shoulder and his eyes shot open.

"Dean…" Rufus's eyes clenched shut again. "Get your brothers outta here. There'll be more of 'em. You know there will. Get out. Drive until you can't and then start running. Hurry."

He started to lift Rufus, but Rufus shook his head. "I'm not gonna make it, Kid. Leave me. Just get the hell outta here."

"Sam's pretty good with bullets—"

"I'm not gonna make it," Rufus insisted. His eyes fluttered and he smiled, shaking his head. "Always knew it would end this way." He laughed and blood spurted from his lips. After a second, his eyes opened and he frowned.

"I said leave," he said. "Don't make me shoot you, boy. Get your brothers and go."

Dean almost laughed. He wished he could. But his lungs felt too tight to do much. He nodded, one swift jerk of his head, and hurried out the door. Sam and Adam were heading toward him and he stopped them, raising his hand. He shook his head.

"He's gone," he said. "We need to move."

"What about-?" Adam motioned to Ash and Garth where they lay, still and broken on the ground. Dean's throat tightened.

"No time," he said. "We need to move. Come on."

~/.\~

Driving east, miles away from their friends' troubles and danger, Hotch and the others drove on unhindered.

Reid and Garcia had managed to fall asleep in the backseat, Reid's head resting on her shoulder. Morgan watched over them like a hawk. Jessica sat up front with Jack in her lap, holding him tightly. Every now and then Hotch glanced over at them to make sure they were really there. Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt sat side by side, holding each other's hands. Their free hands were resting against their guns, ready to use them at a moment's notice, but they hadn't had cause yet.

It was oddly, unexpectedly peaceful. They drove on uninterrupted, Hotch watching their gas gauge to make sure that they didn't run out before they were somewhere safe to stop. They were completely unaware—for the moment—of the tragedy that had befallen their comrades.

~/.\~

A/N: I… have nothing to say. Nothing. Except that I still hate writing these "action" scenes and they feel so utterly off that I want to bang my head against the keyboard.

Please don't forget to review!