AN: I had someone dear ask me "Please don't abandon Polyphony!" and I had to reassure her that I never would. In fact, we're getting near the end. A bit more creative physics in this one. Heh.

Janice had to beta this twice thanks to computer issues, so I'm twice as grateful! Also, I added some stuff after she sent it back so all there may be errors I didn't catch since she didn't look it over with her eagle eye.

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This was why Sam hated separating on hunts. He could see Dean but had no way to get the holy fire treated glasses to him, no way to shoot Vaughn from this angle, no way to really watch his brother's back. Just when Sam was going to attempt the shot anyway, hoping it would at least distract the demon, Chloe came out of nowhere and chomped down on Vaughn's shooting arm. He howled and shook her off, but he'd taken a step forward away from the pillar that had mostly hidden him from Sam.

Sam immediately shot him center mass. Vaughn yelled again, and a small chimney pipe not far from Sam shook and tore free of the roof. It hurtled off the side of the roof. Dammit. If he could still use his demon powers, the devil's trap bullet must have gone right through him. Sam shot him again. The next parapet over from Sam trembled and bricks flew off. Huh. Since Vaughn didn't know exactly where Sam was, he didn't seem to be able to grab him with telekinesis.

"You see Dean?" Sam asked Hiram, who was standing next to him. He crawled to a different position, staying too low to be seen.

"He went inside," the ghost reported. He stayed where he was, not giving away Sam's change of position.

"You can see the hellhounds, right? Could you please go help him?" Sam asked. He popped his head up, shot the raging Vaughn again, and ducked back down. The meatsuit wasn't doing so great but things were still flying around Sam, so the power of the rifle was still working against Sam -- the bullets were going right through Vaughn's body instead of staying lodged inside so the traps could do their thing.

"Yes. Of course." Hiram disappeared through the floor, getting better at utilizing his insubstantiality quickly. Something quite large flew over Sam's head.

"Why aren't you dead?!" Vaughn shrieked. Yeah, it wasn't the first time Sam had been asked that question. He risked another look over the wall and didn't see Vaughn. Frowning, he switched to the crossbow and shot the last hound he saw. He didn't see anything else moving, not even Chloe and he frowned again.

"A devil's trap?!" Vaughn screamed so loud that his voice broke.

Sam relaxed somewhat. He considered going to find Dean and leaving the demon trapped, but the guy was elusive if his brags about hiding from Crowley and other leaders of Hell for years were true. It would be best to destroy him, but maybe discretion was the better part of valor and he should just exorcise him so they could make sure all the hellhounds were dead and the hostages were safe. It seemed to take most demons a good amount of time to get back to Earth after being banished, and if they took care of Lucifer, they could just leave Vaughn as Crowley's problem.

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

Vaughn roared and three more battlements collapsed. Sam pulled his legs under him and threw his arms over his head. Vaughn must have gotten out of the trap if he could use his powers, but Sam wasn't about to stop. He'd recited the exorcism under far worse conditions than this. "-- Satanica potestatas, omnis incursio –" Something hit the wall below him hard enough to make the roof tremble.

"-- infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congratio, et secta diabolica."

Sam peeked over the wall as he recited the chant as fast as he dared. "Ergo draco maledicte, ut – shit!" The ambulance was flying directly as Sam's hiding spot. With no time to get out of the way, he curled himself into the smallest ball he could with his arms wrapped around his head, the rifle still clutched in one hand.

The crash was deafening, and bricks rained down all around Sam, some pelting him. The floor beneath him sagged then gave way and Sam was falling. Things were still hitting him on all sides and he was utterly disoriented. Then he came to an abrupt stop and pain lanced through his shoulder. It took him a second to realize that he was dangling from one hand, a few final bricks tumbling past him. His shoulder was screaming, and his hand was clenched hard enough to hurt. Sam slowly tipped his head back. He was maybe two thirds of the way down the castle's side, and their trusty old rifle was caught inside a hole that had been punched in the wall by one of Vaughn's missiles. Sam's hand had instinctively clamped down, holding him from falling the rest of the way. As Sam looked, the abused stock bent just a little bit more. A couple more inches and the stock and barrel would come apart completely.

If Sam could get his other hand up onto the gun and get himself turned around to face the wall, he should be able to pull himself up. Unless his shoulder was dislocated. He didn't think so, but there was no way to tell in his current position.

Suddenly, Hiram was in his face. "Sam! I will get your brother." Just like that, he was gone again.

Sam slowly reached up with his free arm and tried to find some purchase against the walls with his heels. The bricks weren't even, but most of the protrusions were far too small to help him. About the time he got his right hand up to the gun, Sam found a spot where the wall had buckled enough that he could push his feet down against it. Carefully, he started taking some of the pressure off his arms.

Wild laughter reached Sam and he looked down to see Vaughn below him. Sam started mumbling the exorcism under his breath. He didn't expect the demon would let him get anywhere close to finishing it, but it was worth a try.

"Pathetic!" Vaughn laughed. "I thought the Winchesters were supposed to be impressive!"

Sure, thought Sam, though he didn't waste the effort to say it out loud. You failed to kill me, and we've been taking out your hellhounds and hybrids left and right. And Dean not only got away from you, he's probably freed all your hostages. But, yup, we're not all that.

"Hey, none of that!" Vaughn complained, likely feeling the effects of the exorcism. A chunk of brick the size of an armchair flew through the air and smashed into the wall next to Sam. The impact very nearly made him fall. His left hand actually came off the gun for a second, and bits of broken brick peppered Sam's side. Vaughn laughed again.

But Sam had done a few calculations. With his height and how far he'd fallen before the rifle had caught, his feet were maybe eight feet above the ground. Not ideal but...not fatal either.

"How long do you think –" Vaughn started in a sing-song voice. The reason that he didn't finish the sentence was because Sam got both feet on the bulge in the wall, let go of the gun, and launched himself forward. His aim was good and he landed directly on top of Vaughn.

The impact sucked and they actually rolled over a few times, but Sam didn't allow himself to get distracted by the pain or disorientation. He managed to end up on top of Vaughn. He dug in his pocket – damn, that shoulder hurt – and pulled out a handful of demon trap bullets. If he couldn't shoot them into Vaughn, he could get them into the guy another way. Sam wrenched the demon's mouth open and shoved the entire handful inside, then closed his mouth and held it shut with both hands. Vaughn writhed and fought, but he was too late. His meatsuit swallowed.

Sam rolled off him, scooted a little ways away, and just laid there listening to Vaughn choke and struggle. His meatsuit was a mess from all the bullets, and at least a handful of bones had broken under Sam's weight. Unable to move or access his powers, he was finally not a threat.

Sam was certain that, while the bullets wouldn't hold him forever, it would take him some time to, er, expel them all (one way or another). Surely, Sam would recover enough to kill him before that. Probably. He was fairly sure that his left ankle was broken and his knee at least wrenched. The shoulder that had taken the brunt of his first fall was a throbbing pain, and his entire back felt like one massive bruise. And there were too many other, smaller hurts to categorize. At least he hadn't hit his head this time. Sam snorted a laugh and that hurt too.

"SAM!"

He'd know that bellow anywhere. Without getting up, Sam lifted his good arm and gave a thumb's up. "Over here. I'm okay. Vaughn's got a bunch of demon-killing bullets in him."

Dean ran over with a large dog on his heels, clearly a hybrid since Sam could see it even though he had long since lost his treated glasses. And since it wasn't exactly standard canis lupus. It didn't look like it was threatening them either, just sort of following Dean.

Dean hit his knees next to Sam, his face worried. His face was also all cut-up and bruised-up. His hair was wet, his clothes were literally dripping, and he looked like he'd been through the ringer.

"What happened to you?" they asked in unison.

"Took a swim with hellhounds," Dean answered. "I'm fine. The fish are probably dead."

Sam was confused for a moment, but then let the fish comment go. "Vaughn threw an ambulance at me," Sam responded, starting to sit up and giving Dean a dirty look when he put a palm against his chest. "I'm fine too." He pushed Dean's hand away, trying to visually triage his brother and keep an eye on the newest dog. He nodded to Hiram, who was standing next to the mutt.

"Don't give me that." Dean was trying to do his own assessment of Sam as they both completely ignored Vaughn, who was still coughing and choking dramatically.

"I lost the crossbow and the rifle," Sam admitted sadly. He moved his shoulder experimentally.

"That sucks, but whatever. You're alive. Did you fall off the roof?" Dean asked, recognizing Sam's motions for what they were and putting his hands on either side of the injured shoulder. "Doesn't feel like it's out of joint."

"Sort of. Shoulder isn't out." Sam reached around Dean, trying to see why his jeans were bloody. It was impossible to tell with him still kneeling. "I learned to write our last name by copying it off that gun. What happened to your leg?" Behind Dean, Chloe showed up, apparently hale and hardy, and started yipping and jumping around the newest dog in greeting.

"How do you sort of fall off a roof?"

"What have you done to my castle?!" Hiram yelled, startling both brothers. Even in extremis, he'd remained calm to this point. The ghost was surveying the destruction all around them. "To my family's home?" He advanced on the writhing demon. "You and your kind are vile vermin!" He plunged two ethereal hands into Vaughn's chest, causing him to arch and give a muffled scream. "Get. Off. My. Lawn."

Dean chortled and Sam rolled his eyes. "You told him to say that, didn't you?"

"Maybe…"

"Back off, ghost. He's mine." Suddenly, Crowley was there, grabbing Vaughn by the front of his ruined shirt, dragging him to his feet, and shaking him.

"Hey, look. It's a we-hate-Vaughn party," Dean deadpanned.

"Crowley looks like an angry chihuahua," Sam observed. The self-proclaimed king was all but foaming at the mouth. Dean laughed, but Crowley ignored them as easily as he ignored Vaughn trying to pry his hands off.

"Vanth. I should have known you were still under a rock somewhere. You're like a cockroach. And just as weak! You know why your hounds went crazy? Because they need a strong leader and clearly you aren't it." Crowley threw the other man down in disgust.

"Vanth?" asked Sam, trying to decide if the name sounded familiar at all.

"She was a keeper of Hell's kennels but apparently stole some of the hounds when the gate opened," Crowley literally spat the words.

"She?"

"Used to be." Crowley barely bothered to explain. "Filthy coward bred those magnificent creatures with regular dogs for years. Yes, I found your manifesto." Crowley kicked the sniveling demon at the last word. "You wanted to sell your puppies to humans like...like sleeper agents, hoping that they'd go rogue and start killing."

"It was working," whined Vaughn/Vanth. "And nobody had any idea. I never should have come here."

"No, you should've stayed in your hole, you vacuous, pusillanimous, insipid worm! Tell these nice Hunters how many times your plan worked," Crowley demanded with a sneer.

Vaughn wasn't done whining. "Well...once. So far. But then they came, and I had to send someone after them. But the gang members screwed it up, and then I had to send almost my entire pack to take care of them. But my hounds didn't listen very well!"

Though it wasn't appropriate given how much damage had been done and how many bodies had been dropped, Sam and Dean burst out laughing.

Crowley was not equally amused. "The ones you didn't send are safe in Hell now, where they belong. The rest have been destroyed. Because of you!" Another kick. "You're coming back to Hell where I will spend an eternity reminding you that you are worth less than the lowest hellhound."

"Hear, hear!" Hiram cheered, more bloodthirsty than Sam would have expected.

Crowley raised a fist in the air dramatically. "I'll teach you a new definition of pain! Mere torture isn't enough for you!"

As Crowley rambled on, Sam and Dean shared a look. Dean nodded in agreement and understanding. He palmed the demon-killing knife, walked over to Vaughn and casually stabbed him. His eyes flared and went dim as he was destroyed. Hiram and Crowley stared at him open-mouthed.

Dean pointed the knife at Crowley. "You have more important things to do than torture one demon. Luci on the loose, remember?" He moved to point at Hiram. "And you need to calm down or you'll turn into a vengeful spirit. We're gonna free you, but you gotta chill until then."

"He's right," Sam confirmed as Crowley sputtered and Hiram visibly worked to calm himself.

"My apologies," said Hiram.

"You have your phone?" Sam asked Dean next. He hated saying it, but Dean was hurt and Sam couldn't take the time off hunting to wait for a busted ankle to heal. "We need Cas again."

"I got it," Dean agreed. He gave Sam a look that communicated, we're not done talking about what happened to you and how hurt you are.

Sam looked steadily back, effectively answering, same for you.

Dean pulled his phone, shook some water off it, and dialed. (Hey, there was a reason they used the best phone cases available.)

"What about the hybrids?" Sam asked Crowley softly while Dean made his call. Chloe's new friend was lying down watching her hop around him like a squirrel on caffeine.

"They can go to Hell too," Crowley answered. He was still glaring at Vaughn – er, Vanth – as if trying to figure out a way to resurrect him so he could torture him.

"What? No! They wouldn't stand a chance. The full-blood hellhounds would tear them to pieces!" Sam really wished he could stand up to have this argument, but he'd rather have it while seated than try to stand and fall on his face in front of the demon.

"Then we'll leave them here and wait for them to lose control and start killing people." Crowley shrugged as if he didn't care. "Or you could adopt them. They seem to sense that you've been to Hell and that makes you adequate masters." He wrinkled his nose as if saying he found them completely inadequate.

"Maybe Cas could do something," Sam mused. He knew he should be focused on the truly spectacular amount of clean-up and cover-up that they had to do before drawing the curtain on this one. Not to mention they still had to send Hiram and the rest of his "neighbors" on. But he couldn't stop looking at the Doberman and Chloe, who had settled down for a nap with the latter curled up on top of the former. Hadn't enough innocent (and some not-quite-so-innocent) creatures suffered for Vanth's grand vision? "Make them...forget the hellhound part of their natures or something? They're obviously mostly just dogs. Just look at them!"

"I don't feel sympathy, Moose, you moron," Crowley scoffed. "Plus, you think they'd let any of the feather brigade near them? They'd see Cassie as an enemy."

"Just because you can't do it doesn't mean he can't," Sam answered, well aware of the rivalry that Crowley and Cas both denied having.

Crowley gave Sam a glare that said he was onto his tactics. "I'm not doing this because of your reverse psychology or because I care about any of these mutts. I'm just doing it to get you to shut up and because they're useless to me." He transferred his gaze to the sleeping animals and his eyes glowed red for a second. He looked surprised, then smug. "There. Done. They're probably a little smarter and more fiercely loyal than an Earth-dog, but they can't access their hellhound side anymore." He scoffed a little. "Shame. It was the best thing about them."

Broken ankle or not, Sam grinned.

Dean's voice, which had been getting steadily more annoyed in the background, rose. "I am not corrupting him! He's already fallen. I mean, kind of. But if he does one kind of bad thing so he can do a big good thing, that's – No, I'm not treating you like a child, Barb. I just – Yes, I'm sorry. But look, Sam is hurt." He pinched the bridge of his nose and caught Sam's eye. Covering the mouth of the phone, he said, "Cas and Barb are in town trying to hunt down the last hellhound. They got a ride there, and now they're on foot because Barb says an angel shouldn't steal a car." He ran a hand through his hair, which was drying into tufts sticking every direction.

Sam held out a hand for the phone. "Let me try." Dean handed the phone over, shaking his head, further proof he was at the end of his rope. "Barb? Hi, it's Sam. Are you anywhere near a place called Penny's Pizzeria?"

"Yes, just a block or so over," Barb answered. Sam thought she sounded tired.

"Okay, good. We're gonna have Crowley meet you there to take care of the hound and get you two here to the castle." He ignored Crowley's raised eyebrows at that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup, hellhounds are his expertise."

"What if it comes for us before he gets here?" In the background, Cas was protesting that he was perfectly capable of handling a single hellhound without any help.

"Get a pizza slider from Penny and whack it," Sam answered. "And tell Cas you learned that from the pizza man." Dean burst out in surprised laughter next to Sam. "We need you here. Dean is bleeding, and there's another group of scared and confused people who need help."

Barb agreed and hung up while Cas was still complaining that he "did not need assistance from a demon, especially that one."

"I'm Hell's taxi service now?" Crowley complained predictably.

Sam was so tired of him already. "Look, you got a whole bunch of new hellhounds to play with, and a demon you hate is dead. For a hunt you weren't even invited to, you came out okay. Just help with one more damn thing, would you?"

"Besides," Dean jumped in before Crowley could bitch. "It would really piss Cas off."

Crowley sighed gustily but disappeared.

Dean slumped down on the ground next to Sam. "Ankle broken?"

"Yup. Teeth or claws on your leg?"

"Claws."

Sam laid down all the way and Dean imitated him. "I kind of hate this hunt," Dean said after a moment.

Sam considered. "Yeah, but it wasn't all bad. You got to run over hellhounds with an ambulance."

"True." Dean pointed. "Is that the ambulance on the roof?"

"Mmhm."

"We did get to use secret passageways," Dean mused. "And I got to see you ride in a Minicooper." He snickered.

"I got to use the crossbow," Sam added, ignoring the teasing. "And fall off a roof without dying, thanks to Dad's old Winchester 84." He turned his head and smiled, knowing Dean would appreciate the next part. "I jumped down and landed on Vaughn, then stuffed some devil's trap bullets down his throat."

"Sweet!" Dean grinned proudly. "I blessed the water in this big-ass aquarium and when the hellhounds guarding the hostages knocked me in, I shot my way out like James freaking Bond."

"Nice!"

In a stage whisper, Dean added, "I killed an angel fish. Don't tell Cas."

They both burst out laughing, Sam grabbing his side in pain and Dean falling into a coughing fit.

"You're an idiot," Sam said when they'd recovered. He knew Dean would know he was really saying I'm glad you're okay.

"So are you." I'm glad you're okay too. "I think you have to be to do this job."

Sam couldn't argue with that.

"For what it's worth, I think you're both insane," Hiram chimed in.

They just laughed again.

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AN: I took the shortest exorcism used on the show. I got it from the Supernatural wiki. Unlike some people I know, I don't have it memorized.

Vanth is from Etruscan mythology. She is a psychopomp (man, I love that word) who sometimes escorts the dead to the underworld like Charon from Greek mythology. Once in a while, she's mentioned as the keeper of creatures that sound very much like hellhounds. She's a pretty cool figure and I feel kind of bad that I made her into Vaughn, who's a rotten coward and not even very good at being a demon. LOL.

Jenjoremy: You want all of the stories, don't you? You and the reviewer from Canada named Kathy (which is a fantastic name, by the way). What if I told you I already have my next story in mind? It's not the smallpox ghosts but...that may eventually make the list. The Doberman scene made me smile. It vaguely reminded me of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indiana Jones is confronted by this crazy swordsman and just shoots him. Like, you're expecting a big fight and it just doesn't happen. So, I threw an ambulance at Sam and tossed him off a roof. How's that for beating him up? Again...

Christine: How did I miss my opportunity to use "holy carp?!?!" That is a horrible shame. I like Hiram. I was so excited to make him yell, "Get off my lawn" that I changed around this chapter just to fit it in!

Spnlady: I do love snark! That makes Dean a great character for me to write. Good call with Sam, though at least he's not dying this time. LOL. Dean's there to help him but of course he wants to help Dean too. I adore writing their dialogue. Thank you so much for your kind support!

Timelady66: OMG! You smashed that fourth wall pretty thoroughly...and made me laugh my fool head off! Please, please, please write one of your vignettes where Crowley is reacting to the way Dean took away his dramatic moment and the chance to torture Vaughn. I wondered if anyone would guess about the fishtank getting blessed and it sounds like at least two of you did. (That's called Chekov's gun, right? If you mention something in a story, you have to use it?) And I'm super glad you liked the aquarium scene.

Colby's girl: It's kind of exhausting to think about everything they go through, isn't it? Sometimes I'm writing and I'll have to back up and think, huh, they haven't slept in like, three days. I'm so glad you like Hiram as a foil to Dean. It's great fun to put him with someone unexpected and watch them interact. As for Dean horking up an angel fish, that comment made me laugh so hard I almost cried! I had him make a comment about angel fish just for you.

Long Live BRUCAS: It seems like that was a popular part of the chapter! I hope it was fun and unexpected. Hey, the guys are at least together now.

muffinroo: When I thought of that line, I had to go back and add it in. Like, most of these people have only seen Dean in the role of wedding planner! It occurred to me that this takes place very shortly after Dean killed Hitler, so he had to include that. And did you get your fill of Sam-in-peril here?

Guest: Thank you SO much! I appreciate it!

stedan: Thanks! I love the water but the thought of being trapped and not able to get to the surface is terrifying, isn't it? "the helldog whisperer" (or yeller) is a great expression! I could totally see him claiming that. You were right to worry about Sam but he's (mostly) in one piece.

Kathy: I don't know if ghosts actually can see hellhounds but I couldn't find anything that said they couldn't, so I decided that they can in this story at least. You like the picture of a top hat wearing ghost? It made me smile. I kept trying to picture the James Bond movie where there's a massive aquarium and I'm still not sure which one it is. Maybe Octopussy. Anyway, I figured that the hostages should help Dean out a little after giving him away first. And yup, Sam wasn't having a great time of it!