Come Hell or High Water

by belladonna78

Sequel to "Between Heaven & Hell", and the 6th installment of my Supernatural fanfics. Check out my stories and AN for more info on where to start. This is Season 6 - Dean and Beth are trying to build a normal life with their child, but as always, things are never that simple. Dean/OC. Slightly AU but mostly follows the Supernatural show with my own spin. MA for smut. Please R&R!

12. Caged Heat

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Boy with a broken soul, heart with a gaping hole
Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality

Kissing death and losing my breath

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh
Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone

Lost in the pages of self-made cages
Life slips away and the ghosts come to play
These are hard times, these are hard times for dreamers
And love lost believers

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Let her find a way to a better place
Broken dreams and silent screams
Empty churches with soulless curses
We found a way to escape the day

---

CAGED HEAT

---

Hearing the roar of the Impala, I forced myself to stay where I was: folding laundry at the kitchen table. The door off the garage opened and Dean walked in. He wasn't limping, so that was a good sign, but the cut and smear of blood along the top of his eye told me he had been injured, albeit minor. He was silent about the reason, even when I raised my eyebrow, so I let it go for the moment.

As he moved, Dean stopped to press a kiss to my cheek, sighed softly in my ear, then brushed past me toward the fridge. I smiled in reply, folded the final piece of Sophia's clothing and stacked it neatly on top of the rest of the clean clothes sitting on the table. I picked up the empty wash basket and turned to walk into the laundry, intent on getting the next load out of the dryer.

Walking away from him seemed to incentivise Dean, and as I bent over to pull clothes from the dryer. I felt steady, warm hands slide across my hips and around my waist, trailing along bare skin where my t-shirt had inched up. I smiled, feeling Dean press up against my buttocks, thrusting slightly as he indicated exactly what kind of mood he was in. I stopped what I was doing, turning to look over my shoulder at his darkened green eyes.

"Hi," I smiled suggestively. "You need something?"

To answer, Dean shrugged out of his flannel jacket, then pulled off the t-shirt he was wearing under it. His eyes barely left mine as he held the items in his hand and licked his lips. Suddenly the air in the house felt hot, and the only thing on my mind was how good it would feel to run my hands along his bare chest. I straightened up and turned to watch him undress, trying to regulate my breathing as he reached around me, opened the lid to the washing machine, and deposited his clothes inside. He then toed off his boots and removed his socks, then jeans and underwear in one smooth motion, dropping them in as well.

My stomach danced an excited little flutter, and I stood there completely in lust with this beautiful man.

"Well, I need to wash my clothes, they're dirty," he said nonchalantly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to walk around the house naked.

His eyes dropped down to my top, where there was a small stain of milk from Sophia having spat up on me earlier in the day; he raised his eyebrow at me with a smile.

"I think Sophia may have got something on you…" Dean said, reaching out a hand to brush his thumb over the dry mark. "We should get your clothes clean too. I can help..."

"Oh," I said as his hands fell to the hem of my t-shirt. "How thoughtful of you, very helpful…" I replied, and slid my arms around his waist, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. I felt heat curling low in my belly, as Dean brushed his hands along the small of my back, deepening the kiss. I sighed with disappointment as he broke the kiss in order to tug my shirt over my head, and dropped it into the machine.

"Patience," he said with a grin. Dean's arm brushed against the side of my breast as he painstakingly measured out laundry soap and poured it into the washing machine. I gasped as that small touch sent streaks of electricity through me. He lowered his head, still concentrating on selecting the cycle, I used the opportunity to press my lips to his neck, nipping softly against his skin, delighted when I heard his sharp intake of breath.

After a moment, Dean turned on the cycle, and there was the familiar sound of the water starting to fill the machine. Now he turned his attention to me, his eyes filled with need. One hand rolled across my nipple as he used the other to deftly unclasp my bra, removing it and then opening the lid once again to drop it inside with the other clothes.

He lifted me to sit on the closed lid, causing me to giggle, which earned me a smile from the man before he dropped his head down to my breast, catching a nipple in his teeth and sucking. I moaned, hands moving to his hair as I arched into his hot, wet mouth encouragingly.

Dean's hands were equally as busy as his tongue and lips, and I felt them press against my underpants… when had I lost my pants?... and slip inside the fabric, sliding along the wet, slick folds…

"Ohhh," I groaned, opening up to him as he expertly found his way to that tight little nub…

"Mmm, Beth," he groaned around my breast.

"Yes…"

"Beth…"

You're dreaming…

I woke up with a start, feeling hot and bothered, and confused. Behind me, I felt Dean with his body pressed up against my own, but we were on the floor of the house we'd been squatting in for the last few days. I gasped at the insistent press of an erection against my buttocks, while at the time struggling with the change in location from fun, safe, home to the dingy, barely habitable bedroom where we'd thrown our sleeping bags and pillows down on a lumpy old mattress.

"Ooof," I said, settling back in against Dean.

"Nice dream?" He asked, and I groaned softly.

"Mmmm," I replied, feeling his hand start to trace circles on my stomach, and it was clear that he had similar ideas to what he'd had in the dream.

"But you didn't finish…" I complained. I turned my head to catch his lips with mine, pressing firmly and twisting so that I had more access to his body - which was, frustratingly, dressed in a t-shirt and boxer shorts, not unlike myself. I was at least thankful we'd decided to zip our sleeping bags together last night to... combine body heat.

Dean moaned into the kiss, returning it enthusiastically, hands dropping to my hips as he lavished me with attention.

"Sorry," he said after a moment. "But you were kind of… vocal… I didn't want Sam to hear," he added, glancing out the open entrance where once there would have been a door for some privacy. Sam might have been in another room, but these walls were paper thin.

I sighed, sliding my hands under Dean's shirt, my fingers trailed along his soft warm skin.

"Besides, I didn't want to miss out," he added with a sharp intake of breath.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to gauge from the faint light streaming through the windows.

"I dunno," he replied with a yawn, "either way… he doesn't sleep. I've already heard him stomping around the living room since I've been awake."

I groaned, but still couldn't push aside the need.

"Then I guess we'll have to be quiet,' I murmured into his lips, my tongue darting out to tease him.

Dean groaned deeply in his throat, and kissed me again before pulling back with a twinkle in his eye.

"I was hoping you were gonna say that."

---

Later That Night

I'd made Sam sit in the backseat with the creature, its poor pitiful head was covered in a hood, and in the last thirty minutes of our journey it had at least stopped struggling. Dean pulled the car alongside a sparsely lit industrial factory and came to a halt in front of two men standing beside a black SUV.

As he placed the car in park, but left the car running, Dean sighed as he took in our surroundings. Sam ignored him and opened the door, climbing out, and this prompted Dean and I to follow. When the creature was pulled out of the car, Dean took hold of its right bound arm and guided it toward the waiting men.

I knew they were demons. Before Castiel had fixed my angel link, I would have been able to feel them, they would have had my stomach churning to the point that I wanted to vomit. Too many demons and I would have been incapacitated. Now, it was just a gut feeling that would send shivers down my spine. I was just as disgusted as Dean was over our recent actions, but I saw no way out.

I remained by the passenger side door, ready to respond to any threats, while Dean and Sam handled the handover.

"You're late!"

"Traffic was a bitch," Dean replied sarcastically, handing the creature over to the other man.

"One rugaru," Sam announced.

"Where's Crowley?" Dean asked, looking for the conspicuously absent King of Hell.

"Banging a hooker in a sweet spot called None Of Your Business," the demon retorted.

Dean laughed, shaking his head.

"Ohh, look at that Sam. Demon trying to be funny," he joked.

"Oh, is that what just happened?" Sam smirked.

"Night girls," the demon replied to them both. His work here was clearly done because, and the demon started to turn back toward their waiting SUV.

"Wait, wait," Dean said with a sigh. "Hold up."

The demon turned back to look inquisitively at him.

"Are we ever gonna see Crowley again or is he just gonna keep sending his demon extras to pick up his laundry?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry," the extra replied. "I know you're speaking, I see your lips moving, but I can't understand what you're saying, 'cause I don't speak little bitch."

His already dark eyes flashed completely dark and he looked from Dean to Sam, leaning forward in challenge. They bristled at the insult, but didn't react, exchanging a look of warning to each other.

The demon turned on his heel and sauntered back to the SUV, climbing in without a further word. We watched, helpless to do anything about our predicament, while they drove off into the night.

Only then, did Dean look across at me, his expression one of anger and frustration.

"Remember when we used to gank demons?" He asked.

Sam didn't reply and neither did I. What was there to say? The demon was right. Until we could give Crowley what he was looking for - a creature that would reveal the location to Purgatory - we were indeed at the beck and call of the most dangerous demon there was.

---

As we arrived back at our make-shift home (aka derelict building) and walked inside, I considered that our current location wasn't doing much for mine, and likely Dean's mood, and resolved that tonight we should leave and get a motel somewhere. Maybe we could even get our own room and enjoy part two of this morning's fun, this time in full audio.

Dean's rage was simmering under the surface as he flung open the door to the house and flipped the light switch to illuminate the unkempt living room, with wooden floors, wood panelled interior covered with peeling wallpaper, and a large, brick hearth standing pride of place on the opposite side of the room.

I sighed at the dirty, dusty environment and reaffirmed my earlier thoughts - we were leaving tonight.

Dean threw up his hands as he too looked around the room.

"Screw it, I'm done," he announced, and I wasn't sure if he was simply sick of the environment, or the situation as a whole.

"Calm down," Sam said, closing the door behind us.

"We've been going on these freaking Crowley runs and it's not getting us anywhere," Dean replied.

"Dean-"

"I mean, the only thing that's really changed, is now I need a daily rape shower," he continued on his tirade and I knew better than to interject.

"Okay, you're right," Sam said. "Let's go with Plan B. Oh yeah, we don't have one! So 'til we do, sorry dude, stock up on soap-on-rope."

"Jesus Sam," I muttered. "Empathy much?"

We'd given up a lot to be here, and it was eating at us each day we spent away from our kids. Days like this, when you were standing in a dank rotting house, surrounded by rat chewed furnishings, faulty wiring, and a weird smell coming from under the back porch, you couldn't really blame us for having doubts about the current plan.

"Look, guys. If you wanna get my soul back, that's what we gotta do, okay?" Sam continued.

"Yeah," Dean muttered under his breath and shook his head. He looked up at Sam inquisitively.

"You even want it back?"

Sam fell silent at the question and narrowed his eyes at his brother, expressing his own silent frustration.

"I'm working for Crowley, aren't I?" He replied after a moment.

Dean watched him, not fully convinced. They stared each other down until finally Dean shrugged, turning toward the mantle over the fireplace where he'd left a bottle of whiskey. I breathed out a quiet sigh that we were all starting to calm down, and decided now would be the moment to raise a motel.

I placed a gentle hand on Dean's back while he poured himself a drink.

"Hey," I said with a smile. "How about you hold off diving into the bottom of a bottle until we find ourselves a motel tonight?"

Dean sighed, and stared down into the swirling amber liquid, his mouth twitching.

"You think a motel is gonna fix this?" He asked, surprising me that he was holding so fast to pessimism. Usually the thought of a motel room with a hot shower and soft bed picked up his spirits almost immediately.

"Well, not everything Dean, but it sure couldn't hurt, right? Before Crowley sends us God knows where to get his next victim."

Dean sucked in a breath.

"Who says he's gonna hold up his end, you know?" Dean asked, glancing at me but speaking loud enough for Sam to hear. "It is Crowley."

"I know," I said softly, and he rolled his eyes.

"You ever think of that?" Dean asked, now turning back toward Sam, stopping dead.

The room behind us was now empty.

Dean shrugged at me.

"So I guess the moment's over, is that what you're saying?" He called out to the missing Sam.

No reply, and our brother didn't reappear.

"Sam?" I called out.

"Sam!" Dean yelled a little louder.

Silence.

"What, did he go outside to pee?" I questioned.

Dean shrugged.

"Sam?!" I called out again, there was still no reply.

Dean was instantly alert. He nodded at me and moved quietly to place the whiskey-filled mug he was holding on a nearby table, reached into his waistband and pulled out his pistol. I followed suit, deviated left to check out the kitchen that adjoined the living room. With a quick glance, I shook my head negatively at Dean; Sam wasn't there. Dean inclined his head toward the hallway opposite the front door and led us to the right, around the dividing wall toward the rear of the house where the bedrooms were. There we came across an unconscious Sam, star fished in the centre of the closest room.

"Sammy?" I hurried over to his side and reached down to feel for a pulse, which was steady.

I looked behind me in time to see a man walk up behind Dean and smash him over the head with a block of wood. His eyes flashed black - demon - and I pointed my gun at him, knowing full well that it wouldn't do much, but I squeezed the trigger anyway.

The round went wide as someone grabbed me from behind, disarmed me, and then the world went black.

I woke up in the living room we'd just exited, tied to dining chairs that were more solid than they appeared. I was facing the entrance to the building, Sam and Dean secured to chairs facing each other, in front of me. It was like a lovely family dinner, all that was missing was the table in the middle - oh, and our hands were bound.

I stretched my neck to one side, and this brought my attention to a woman standing by the fireplace. I swear my heart stopped beating in my chest at the sight of her.

"Hello darling, long time no see," she said in her husky voice and I fought with the ropes, trying to get loose. I had no words.

Sam too was awake and silent, watching as the man I'd seen knock Dean out paced behind him.

To my left, Dean groaned and opened his eyes, quickly assessing the situation. His eyes darkened when he realised we were all tied up.

"What now?" Dean complained, cracking his neck with another groan.

"I think I know who you can ask," Sam replied, looking behind Dean.

Dean twisted to see who had Sam's attention.

"Evil bitch!"

The dark-haired beauty sauntered up and leaned down to press her lips to his ear, smiling at me.

"Keep sweet talking me, this could go a whole new direction," she said in a seductive husky voice that set my blood boiling.

"Meg," Dean replied, pulling away with a glare. "I've been dying to see you again."

The last time we'd seen Meg we'd been in a final run against Lucifer, hell-bent on sending him back into the Pit with the Colt. Meg had trapped us with hellhounds in a hardware store along with Jo and Ellen Harvelle. In order to escape, they had sacrificed themselves in a fire-fueled explosion to take out the Hellhounds when Jo was too wounded to move.

But one of our earliest and most traumatic encounters with Meg had been the loss of our first child, when she'd sent me into premature labour following a kick to my stomach. She'd been in Sam's body when it had happened, and none of us had ever truly recovered from that assault.

Dean had never forgiven himself for losing any of them.

He struggled at his bonds, but it was clear that none of us were getting free easily - they'd not underestimated our ability to wriggle free.

"Well here I am, big boy," Meg said, and she moved to stand in front of him, showing off her slim body dressed in figure hugging jeans, and a leather jacket. "So, what should we do now?"

"How about I rip you to shreds?!" Dean spat at her, his eyes steely grey.

"Kinky, I like it," Meg smiled. "But a little Q&A first, if you don't mind. Now where's your boss?"

Sam scoffed. "You think we work for somebody?"

"I happen to know for a fact you've been juggling Crowley's orphans," Meg replied, spinning to look at him. "Now where is he?"

"Don't know, don't care," Sam replied.

"You been working his beat for months," she countered.

"Doesn't mean we get face time," I said with a glare in her direction.

"Oh she does speak," Meg said, looking at me and then at Dean. "You two, still as close as ever?"

She chuckled with amusement and then turned to straddle Dean. Meg's attention however, was on me, as she looked over her shoulder with a cold smile.

"Where's he take all those things you snatch up for him?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, and shrugged.

"I bet you an all-day sucker that's where his majesty's holed up," she continued, looking back at Dean. He glared at her, silent. Meg sighed and pulled out a knife, raising it to Dean's throat. I bit back a gasp.

"Okay, officially over the foreplay," she said, once again looking at me. "Satisfy me, or I please myself."

I saw a momentary panic cross Dean's eyes as he glanced at me, and then it was gone, shoved behind a poker face that would fool the best of them. Demons had used Dean as their play thing for decades when he'd been in Hell, I could only imagine what was going through his mind right now.

Sam laughed at the intensity of the situation and I looked at him.

"Something funny, Sam?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said with a smirk. "Meg."

"Really? 'Cause where I'm sitting…"

"Don't worry," Sam continued. "She can't do jack squat. She's totally screwed." His eyes were back to the soulless brother we were familiar with, and I didn't like the way he was looking at Dean and Meg right now, goading her.

"Not helping Sam!" I whispered fiercely at him.

"Look at her, Beth. She's furious."

I glanced at Meg who was staring at Dean, blade pressed to his jugular, but not moving.

"If she could kill you, she'd have done it by now," Sam pushed. "She's running."

Meg smirked and pulled the knife away from Dean, climbing off his lap to face Sam.

"Am I?"

"Judging by the level of flop sweat on all of you, yeah," our psychotic brother continued. "Which means you're running from Crowley."

I watched the two other demons in the room standing guard and saw them twitch as Sam hit his mark. He was right, and that changed things.

"Which makes sense. Crowley would want to hunt down all the Lucifer loyalists now that he's the big man on campus."

Meg's eyes narrowed at him.

"How would you know?"

"It's what I'd do," he replied without missing a beat. Sam looked at Dean.

"She can't kill us. She needs us to get her to Crowley so she can stick that knife in his neck. It's him or her."

The mere thought of it made me feel more aligned with Crowley, Dean seemed to feel the same way.

"Well I hope you both lose. But good luck," Dean quipped.

Sam however was thinking two steps ahead, and that concerned me given his current lack of soul.

"So you know what you gotta do now, right?"

"Let me guess," Meg scoffed. "You're gonna tell me?"

"Work with us," Sam said.

"Whoa, what?" Dean spluttered, and I nodded my agreement with him.

"Are you joking right now?" I asked Sam incredulously.

Sam's eyes were fixed on Meg, who was looking intrigued while he proceeded to ignore both Dean and I.

"We'll hand you Crowley with a bow," he continued. "On one condition: we come with you and you help us wring a little something out of him before you hack him to bits."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam said. "Question is, can you get us what we need?"

Meg smirked, tilting her head to the side.

"I apprenticed under Alastair in Hell, just like your brother," she said, turning to look over her shoulder at Dean. "So Dean, can I make Crowley do whatever I want?"

Dean swallowed, watching her as his eyes darkened, I knew he wasn't far off going to a space that was tricky for him to come back from.

"Yeah," he said, his voice cracking a little as he licked his lips to wet them. "She can."

"It's a deal then," Meg smiled, turning back to Sam. "Hugs and puppies all around!"

"You gonna untie us?" Dean asked, unable to bring himself to look her in the eye. Meg paused next to him and winked.

"Please, don't act like you don't enjoy it," she said while Dean stared at the wall ahead of him. She raised an eyebrow at me, that seemed out of place given the context, before she sauntered out of the room.

One of the demons followed her, but the one who had knocked Dean out stomped up to him, loomed overhead with an intense stare. Dean rolled his eyes and looked up at him after shaking himself out of whatever memory he'd just been in.

"You gonna kiss me?" He taunted the demon.

"Come on!" Meg called out over her shoulder, and this spurred the demon to leave the room.

I let out a breath that I'd been holding, and swallowed hard, thinking:

Now what?

---

It hadn't taken too much to get free once we didn't have a bunch of demons standing around ready to eat our faces off. Back on my feet, I felt like I could breathe again and made myself busy by gathering up our belongings and stuffing them into duffel bags.

Dean watched me cautiously while I avoided his gaze, scared of what I might see there. I was feeling particularly shaky after this newest encounter, and any kind of worry in his eyes might set me off down an emotional spiral for which I simply wasn't ready.

I could have a breakdown later. Right now, we needed to be warriors.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked finally, and I glanced questioningly at him, but he was glaring at Sam's back while he packed his own bag.

Sam paused, checking to see if Dean had been talking to him and seeing that he was, turned around.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you doing?" Dean repeated, no more clearer.

Sam sighed, and threw a hand out in a fed up gesture.

"Dean, you wanted to screw over Crowley," he said. "Merry Christmas!"

Dean shook his head incredulously at our oblivious brother, and when I didn't have anything to add, Sam frowned.

"What?"

"You wanna work with a demon again?" Dean asked.

"We're working with demons now," Sam said with a heated breath. "I'm doing this because I wanna stop."

"She killed Jo and Ellen! Not to mention what she did to Beth… and the… the…" He ran his hand across his troubled face, unable to finish that sentence. When he looked at me it was with such anguish that my heart broke. I wanted to take him and run far away from all of this.

But we couldn't. We had responsibilities.

"I know," Sam said softly after a moment, smart enough to know he needed to tread carefully on this subject even if he wasn't connecting to the emotional impact that Meg's possession had had on him.

"But you can't look at this emotionally, Dean…"

Clearly not smart enough.

The sound that escaped me was unexpected, a cross between a gasp and a splutter, and Sam turned to look at me, his eyes without feeling. I shook my head, and crossed my arms over my stomach.

"We can't look at this… emotionally?" I asked incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

Sam, with a soul, would have never said anything like that.

"Dude," Dean groaned, rubbing at his temples.

"We need her," Sam pushed.

"The Hell we do!" Dean snapped. "That little bitch is gonna screw us over so fast-"

"Of course," Sam cut in. "Which is why we'll screw her first. Meg, and her little posse are dead the second we're done with them," Sam promised.

"Yeah, if they don't kill us," Dean muttered, and this time he did move to pull me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin. I thought about the unspoken words hanging on the air; if it was just us, the risk would be worth it - but we had so much more to lose now. A reality that weighed heavily on both mine and Dean's shoulders.

"They won't," Sam continued. "'Cause we're bringing insurance."

"Insurance?" I scoffed. We didn't even have the demon-killing knife anymore.

"Just, don't Sam," Dean said shortly. "Give us a minute, okay?"

Sam looked like he was about to argue, then thought better of it and sucked up a breath and left the room. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as we fell into silence, nothing more than the sound of Dean's racing pulse in my ear as I leaned into him.

"God damn robot," he muttered after a moment.

I chuckled at his tone, and nodded, keeping myself tucked into his warm body, my arms wrapped around his waist.

"We don't have to do this," Dean said after a few heartbeats. But there was a resignation in his voice that I was feeling in my heart.

"Yeah, we do," I said, biting my lip.

Dean pulled back and took my face in his hands, peering intently into my eyes as if he was searching my soul. I fed all my frustrations, thoughts, feelings back into that gaze, knowing he would understand, and hold that space for me. I wanted to do the same for him, and after a moment I saw the uncertainty, anger, and worry flicker across his green pupils - this was a side he never showed anyone else.

Sometimes there were moments when we didn't need to speak.

We'd been down this road so many times before, trying to heal from all that we'd been through, the pain thrown at us, the loss of our child, friends, fathers… the loss of our innocence. The only way we got through it was by working.

"Okay," Dean said after a moment, seeing something inside of me that reassured him. I saw his resolve harden, and he kissed my forehead before squeezing me tightly to him again.

I closed my eyes and breathed in, at the same time a sharp ringing sounded in my head.

"Ah," I grimaced, reaching for my forehead. "What the?"

Beth. I'm in the middle of a war.

It was Castiel, and I frowned, pulling back to see Dean looking at me in concern.

"It's… Cas?" I said to him, closing my eyes to focus on the connection.

'Yeah, I know Cas," I replied to him.

I don't appreciate being tricked into coming down here.

'What are you talking about?" I asked.

The connection broke, like he'd just hung up a phone on me, and the door to the house opened. This time when Sam entered, he had the angel with him. Cas frowned as we took in his unexpected appearance.

"Your brother tricked me into coming here by saying you had the Ark of the Covenant," Cas replied, glaring at Sam.

"The Ark… as in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Ark?" Dean asked of Sam, who grinned.

"I can't believe you fell for that," Sam replied.

"I'm mid-battle," Cas said, his tone irritated.

"I'm surprised you even showed," I said, raising an eyebrow at the angel.

Cas turned to look at me, his facial expression softened when he looked at me, but I could tell he was less than pleased to be here. We hadn't had communication in some time, and there was a reason for that - Cas was busy.

"No big," Sam cut in. "This is what friends do for each other."

I had a feeling there was more to that conversation than he was letting on, given the look that Cas gave Sam. Whatever he'd said had somehow convinced Castiel that dealing with our demon issues was more important than whatever was going on in Heaven right now.

Cas walked over to the table in the corner of the room and swept the contents unceremoniously to the floor, and then looked at me.

"Candle?"

"Yeah," I said, moving to my bag and rummaging until I pulled out my prayer candle. He nodded and took it.

"We're also going to need summoning ingredients, a bowl…" I nodded.

"In the car, what items?"

I was glad to have something to do, hurrying out to the trunk and propping it open with the shotgun while I dug out the box where we kept our various herbs and other magical items. I grabbed a copper bowl, and returned to the room, dropping them on the table.

Within moments, Cas had added what he needed to the bowl, then, chanting in Enochian, he lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. The herbs sizzled and burst into fire like there had been an accelerant added.

Cas stared at the flames, his face set in a scowl. After a moment, he looked up at Dean.

"It's not working, Crowley is hidden from me."

"Well, then it looks like we're gonna have to try this the hard way," Sam replied.

---

The Campbell Compound

The hard way, as it turned out, was searching Samuel's office. It was made a lot easier by having an angel that could teleport us straight into the interior, avoiding the rest of the hunters along the way.

Dean and I were going through a shelf and extra desk by the wall when the overhead lights flicked on, and Samuel stepped out from behind a wire gate separating the office from a storage room. He held a pistol up to show us he was armed, then dropped it down to his side, looking everyone over calmly.

"Can I help you?" He asked. "What do you want?"

Straightening up, Dean was first to speak.

"We wanna know where Crowley is," he said.

"If I even knew, why would I tell you?"

"'Cause you're our grandfather," Dean shrugged at the man. But Dean had said it himself months ago: Samuel's idea of family wasn't necessarily the same as our own. I wasn't convinced Samuel thought of us the same way we viewed family.

"Samuel," Sam said. "I'm gonna get my soul back."

"Who says you can get it back?" Samuel asked as he turned to look at Sam.

"Me," the younger Winchester insisted.

Samuel shook his head and cast his eyes down to the floor.

"Look, I'd like to help, but I'm sorry…"

"It's your grandson's soul," Dean cut in.

"I can't," Samuel said stubbornly, staring Dean down.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, moving to stand next to Dean, Samuel looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

"Do you want to work for Crowley?" Dean said.

Everyone was silent, Samuel pursed his lips.

"Cas, can you give us a moment?" Dean asked softly of the angel. Cas looked irritated, but disappeared just the same with the sound of wings.

Dean turned back to his grandfather.

"We're your blood," he said, taking a few calmer steps toward Samuel, dropping his voice down an octave. "But if you don't wanna help us, I can't make you. But I just gotta know why. What is Crowley holding over you? You owe us that" I saw Samuel's eyes flicker, knew that he'd hit on something.

Samuel nodded slightly and then moved to his desk, pulling out a photograph which he handed to Dean. It was an old photo of a young Mary, around the same age that she'd been when Dean and I had encountered her when we were transported back in time.

"Mom?" Dean asked, looking at the photo.

"He's gonna give her back to me," Samuel said.

"Crowley's gonna bring Mom back from the dead?" Dean asked skeptically.

"You tell me you don't want her back," Samuel replied. Dean's eyes dropped back down to the photo and his breath caught, thinking over what he'd just been told.

"You know, the one difference between us: you know how to live without her," Samuel added.

Dean snorted, and looked at me, his eyes full of sadness.

"Look, I know how you feel…"

"No you don't!" Samuel snapped, causing us all to look at him in surprise at the emotion behind the words. "You don't. She's my daughter, and she's dead, and I can do something about it."

I swallowed, wondering how Dean and I would feel if a demon had been offering to bring our baby boy back from the dead. The problem was, we knew a thing or three about demon deals, and how the fine print never seemed to add up to the desired outcome.

"Do you really think Crowley is gonna make good here?" Dean asked, looking up at Samuel.

"He brought Sam back! And me!"

"Trust me, don't go down that road," Dean said, putting the photo down on the desk.

"What are you saying?" Samuel asked, confused.

"He's saying it's gonna go nowhere good," I cut in, shaking my head.

"Samuel, I know we've had our differences, but I'm your grandson and I'm telling you that this is wrong for so many reasons."

"You hypocrite!" Samuel spat out.

"I'm asking you to learn from our mistakes!" Dean snapped. "Doing this, this is how the bad guy gets us every time. It's our Achilles Heel!"

Dean ran a hand across his face, shaking his head at me.

"Apparently it runs in the family," he added, looking back at his grandfather. "We will figure something else out, okay?"

"I'm sorry Dean, but I-"

"Fine!" Dean said, turning on his heel and walking away, turning as he neared the door out.

"Bring her back. But what are you gonna tell her? You gonna tell her you made a deal with a demon? That you wouldn't help her sons?"

"All right, that's enough!" Samuel yelled, his face crumpling at what Dean was saying. He swallowed, eyes swimming in tears as he shook his head.

"Just…just get out."

Dean stared at him for a few moments and then his shoulders dropped, he silently took a few steps toward the door, casting one final look at his grandfather before walking out.

"Wow…" I said, shaking my head. I turned to find Sam staring at Samuel, his face unreadable. He seemed annoyed, but at the same time I knew he was emotionless about the reasons he should be upset, and the troubled expression was more about how he wasn't getting his way, not why.

"C'mon Sammy, let's go," I said, pulling him with me toward the door.

---

Later That Night

Cas had transported us back to the house, and I'd given up on the idea of a nice clean motel. We pulled together the dining chairs around the table that was in the adjoining kitchen, and Sam set up the laptop while I carried in various books we'd collected at the library. It was a long shot, but we still had to come up with some other way to track down Crowley.

The angel, with nothing better to do (frankly I was surprised he was still here), was glued to the old box TV in the living room, firmly planted on a couch that was losing its stuffing, the light from the screen flickering across his face as he stared intently at the show.

"It's very complex," Cas said, drawing our attention away from the books.

"Hmmm?" Dean asked.

"If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear?" Cas asked with a confused tone, and suddenly we could all hear the sharp cries of a hand smacking flesh, and a girl crying out.

"Perhaps she's done something wrong?" Cas mused while we all gaped.

"You're watching porn?" Dean asked, gobsmacked. "Why?"

"It was there," Cas explained, gesturing to the TV. We were in a derelict house with faulty wiring and dripping taps, but somehow the ancient TV was still connected to a service that provided porn, wonders would never cease.

I laughed, not just at Cas's confused and naïve expression, but at Dean's horrified face.

"You don't watch porn with a woman present!" Dean snapped, glancing at me.

I was still giggling, and reached for the open beer beside me, taking a sip.

"Would you like me to leave? Would that make it better?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at Dean.

"Or a room full of dudes!" He added, looking at Cas. "And you don't talk about it. Just turn it off!"

Cas continued to look at the TV for a moment, and then his head dropped down to his lap. Dean scoffed, looking at Sam.

"Well now he's got a boner," he said, and I - who had been taking another drink of my beer - spat the liquid out all over the table, some of it hitting Dean in the face.

"Oh, sorry," I gasped, unable to contain my laughter while Dean rolled his eyes at me and wiped his face on his sleeve.

I was saved by the sound of knocking at the door. I jumped up to answer it while Dean and Sam pulled out their guns, Dean shadowed me as I prepared to open it and see who was there.

With a nod from Dean I opened the door, and came face to face with Samuel. He stared at me for a moment and when I stepped back, he entered the house. Dean sighed when he saw his grandfather and tucked his gun back into his waistband, moving back toward the table.

Samuel walked into the living room, his gaze going to the TV where Cas was still squinting at the screen.

He shook his head, waved his hand in Cas's direction.

"This what you boys do, sit around watching pornos with angels? While your wife is here?" Samuel asked, looking at Dean.

"We're not supposed to talk about it," Cas replied, his eyes never deviated from the entertainment.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past Samuel to rejoin Sam and Dean in the kitchen.

"Why are you here, Samuel?" Dean asked, ignoring the porn and getting straight to the point.

"It's what Mary would want," Samuel replied with a heavy sigh. He stepped up to the table and pulled out a map from his back pocket, starting to unfold it.

Cas abandoned the TV and moved to stand beside me, curious about the new arrival.

"All right, this is what I know," he said, putting the map down for us all to see. "Whatever we bag ends up there," he pointed to a location on the map that he'd already circled. "That's where he tortures 'em, interrogates 'em, I don't really know. Only been outside the place, but it's a death trap."

He looked up sternly at Dean.

"Nothing gets in that Crowley doesn't want in, and nothing gets out, period."

Dean looked at me, contemplating the information, and then back at his grandfather.

"Well, thanks," he said.

"I wish you wouldn't do this," Samuel replied, he looked at Dean and when he saw that he wasn't going to be able to talk him out of it, turned on his heel and moved toward the exit.

"Come with us," Sam offered, Samuel stopped to look back at us, shaking his head.

"I may be soft, but I'm not suicidal."

I was starting to wonder where we fell on that scale.

---

Later That Night

How Sam had called Meg I didn't want to know. I know he had done a lot of questionable things when hanging out with Ruby, so in theory he knew how to summon a demon when he needed one. I suppose in theory so did I, but that was generally only for a crossroads demon - not one specifically.

We met Meg and her posse outside in the dark, Castiel by our side. When Meg saw him she smiled widely.

"Remember me?" She asked. "I sure remember you, Clarence."

Cas's eyebrows knit together in annoyance, and he looked at me. "Why are we working with these abominations?"

"Keep talking dirty. Makes my meatsuit all dewy," Meg said flirtatiously with the angel.

"All right, simmer down," Dean cautioned, looking at Meg. "We know where Crowley is."

"Great. Do tell."

"Yeah, tell you, so you can just leave us for dead," Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Meg faked offense, putting her hand to chest, and then rolled her eyes.

"You boys have serious abandonment issues, you know that?" She asked.

"We'll show you, all right?" Sam said. "But we're all going together."

"What? I'm just supposed to trust you?" Meg asked, her eyes flicking across the four of us suspiciously.

"No, you're not that stupid," Sam replied, and she raised her chin appreciatively at him. Sam took a step forward, leaning into Meg and held out his hand.

"Give me the knife for a minute," he said, she snorted and shook her head.

"No, I'm not that stupid," she mocked.

"Do you want us to take you to Crowley, or not?" Sam asked, his hand still held out to her.

Meg hesitated, and I could see that she was weighing the odds of getting out of this encounter alive if she handed over the one knife that could kill her. But Sam had the ace up his sleeve: we didn't have to work with her, and we knew where Crowley was.

After a moment, she let out a sigh and pulled the enchanted knife out of her jacket, handed it to Sam.

Sam looked down at the blade, holding it in his right hand, contemplating the trust that had just been given to him. Without warning, he stabbed the blade to his left, straight under the chin of the demon who had been staring Dean down earlier in the day. A red flash of light rippled through the host's skull as he gagged and then fell to the ground, dead.

Meg's posse moved toward us and Sam stepped out front, extending the knife toward them.

"You saw him," he said, glancing at Meg. "He was more interested in killing us than getting the job done. I just did us all a favour."

Meg's eyes were slightly watery, and I wondered if the demon Sam had just killed meant something to her. I hoped so, watching her suffer would provide me with a small amount of satisfaction given what she'd taken from us. She inclined her head away from all of us, and nodded at Sam, the other demons backed off, following her unspoken lead.

Sam spun on his foot and started walking back toward the house, Meg watched him, startled.

"Hey! You just gonna keep that?" She asked.

Sam turned to look at her, holding the bloody knife in the air. "You took this from us. I'm taking it back. We leave in one hour."

I watched Sam leave, and Meg raised an eyebrow, her gaze falling to Castiel as she stepped into him, eyeing him up and down lasciviously. Cas stared at her, the same confused expression on his face that he'd had watching the pizza man on TV.

I shook my head and nudged Dean away as Meg stalked off with her two remaining henchmen.

"Well, at least we have the knife back," Dean said as soon as we were out of hearing range.

"In the hands of a psychopath," I pointed out.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and watched Castiel as the angel went back into the house, leaving us alone by the car, an eerie silence in the air.

"Yeah, but at least he's our psychopath," he commented, leaning against the rear of the Impala.

That didn't make me feel any better.

The next hour was a flurry of movement as we all prepared in our own ways for the hunt to follow.

Sam, Dean and I packed bags of weapons and ammo, various tools of the trade, changed clothes, and discussed plans while running to and from the house to the Impala, Castiel remained motionless in the living room, staring at the fireplace.

"Hey," I said, when I finally had a moment to stop. "Are you okay?"

The angel turned to look at me, his eyes conflicted.

"What's wrong?"

"Beth, everything I'm doing, I'm doing it for you, and Dean, and Sam and everyone else down here," he said randomly. I stopped to cock my head at him, curious.

"Yeah, of course Cas, we know you have our back," I replied.

"Good," he said with a nod. "Because, this war… it's not going well right now. I'm afraid of what I might have to do in order to win."

This admission troubled me more than I let on, and I reached out to squeeze his arm, smiling encouragingly.

"Cas, you are the bravest, most honourable angel I've met," I said. "I know you're going to do whatever is right for Heaven, the other angels, and everyone else who would suffer at the hands of Raphael."

He nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Really Cas, I know Sam and Dean, they ask a lot of you - I'm so grateful for all the help you give us," I continued. "I know it's not easy being here when so much is going on upstairs."

He looked up with a smile, he almost seemed tearful except it was rare to see emotion on the ethereal being.

"Well, I wouldn't be a very good guardian angel if I abandoned you now, would I?" He asked, and I grinned.

"I'm sure we'd survive, or you'd send someone to look out for us if you couldn't come yourself."

His gaze took on a nostalgic expression and he reached out to touch a lock of my hair, smiling sadly.

"You know, you really do look like your mother," he said after a moment. "She would have been very proud of you Beth."

My heart swelled at the compliment and I felt tears prickling in my eyes.

"You and her, you were close, weren't you?" I asked. He nodded silently.

"We were too late to save her, when she was taken," he said. "I'm just glad we were able to get to you in time."

I sucked in a breath, trying not to think about those memories that were buried deep from my childhood. I hadn't had access to them until a few years ago, my father had asked Cas to wipe my memory of the whole incident at the time, thinking he was protecting me. It had been a blessing for a while, but his need to shelter me from the real world had ultimately led to my rebelliousness, and because of that, I'd been wide open for possession almost a decade later. It had gotten him killed.

"Well, I'm grateful," I said again, smiling at Cas.

"You know, guys, you could help," Dean called out to us from the kitchen as he zipped up a bag and raised an eyebrow in my direction.

Cas's troubled expression returned as he faced Dean.

"I'm ambivalent about what we're attempting," he said after a moment.

Dean shrugged, walking over and carrying his duffel.

"Well, breaking into monster Gitmo is not exactly a two-for-one in the champagne room," he said with a shrug.

Cas looked at me.

"I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise."

"What?" I asked. "Why?"

"I want him to survive," Cas replied, his eyes shimmering.

"What are you talking about?" Dean questioned, sparing me a worried glance.

Cas sighed heavily, looking from me to Dean.

"Sam's soul has been locked in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for more than a year. And they have nothing else to do but take their frustrations out on him. You understand?"

I bit my lip, considering the consequences of what he was saying. Dean had been in Hell for four months, and while they had seemed like forever to me with his absence, it had been worse for him - time distorted when you entered both Hell and Heaven.

In Hell it dragged out, one year felt like ten to the souls being tortured.

The same could happen in Heaven as well, the time distortion seemed to change depending on where you were in the different levels of Heaven - but I'd experienced moments of being there for a day or two, when in fact weeks had passed on Earth. An hour became an entire night.

Why this was, I had no idea, but the harsh reality was that in Hell years, Sam's soul had been locked away with two rabid angels for over a century.

I shuddered at the thought.

"If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet, we have no idea what will happen," Cas said after a moment. "It could be catastrophic."

"You mean he dies?" Dean asked.

"I mean, he doesn't," Cas argued. "Paralysis. Insanity. Psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life."

Dean swallowed hard and frowned at the angel.

"But you're saying you don't know anything for sure. I mean, he could be fine."

"He could be, yes," Cas said unconvincingly.

"Okay then," Dean nodded hopefully.

"But I doubt it," Cas cut in, dashing those hopes as quickly as they'd been raised.

I reached out to rub my hand across Dean's back, letting him know I was there as I saw him start to run through all the different possibilities.

"If he's not, can't you fix him?" I asked Cas, "or Chamuel? One of the others?"

Cas sighed and shook his head. He'd already told me that many of the archangels I knew had either perished at the start of the war, or were now in hiding.

"Beth, I wouldn't even know where to begin," he said sadly.

"Then you figure it out Cas," Dean said forcefully. "Come on. I mean, the guy's a friggin replicant. He needs his soul."

None of us disagreed. Sam without a soul was as troubling as the idea of what it could do to him if we put it back in him.

"Look, we get it back. And if there are complications, then we will figure out a way to deal with those, too," Dean said.

"Of course," Cas replied in a monotone voice. Dean nodded at me, turning around with a look on his face that told me he thought he'd won this argument, completely convinced it would all work out fine.

"Or we fail," Cas added to Dean's retreating figure. "And Sam suffers horrifically."

I looked at Cas, fighting down the panic I was feeling inside at this new revelation. Not once had I considered that getting Sam's soul out of Hell was going to cause so many complications. I'd been kidding myself, and now we were about to lie to ourselves all over again as we prepared to go after Crowley.

---

Hours later we arrived at Crowley's monster prison. It was an old red brick prison that had been long abandoned. It seemed fitting that Crowley would have located such a place for his torture camps. Minimal changes needed for holding multitudes of creatures at bay.

On the outside, the whole place was ringed with security fencing, topped with barbed wire, most of it looked like it was left over from when the prison had been a regular, human containment facility. There were a few lights on inside the building, but outside was mostly unmanned, with a surprising lack of security detail.

"Looks pretty quiet," Dean commented as we looked down from a nearby ridge on the far edge of the compound.

"It's not," Cas replied. "I can feel it."

"Meet me at the side door," the angel added before vanishing.

Dean used wire cutters to get us through the fence easily enough, and within minutes we had scooted down the embankment to the side of the building, all six of us - Sam, Dean, myself, Meg and the two goons she had brought with her.

The door opened beside us, revealing Castiel and beside me, Dean swallowed hard.

"This all seem a little too easy to you?" He asked.

Sam nodded. "Way too easy."

That didn't stop us, and we all filtered inside with Cas closing the door behind us.

Inside, we quickly came upon cells, and when I flashed my light in between the steel bars of one I saw a dead body laying in the centre of the room, covered in blood.

A quick look showed that this creature wasn't the only one that had met a grisly end.

Some of the cells, however, still had live prisoners.

Dean moved in next to a cell with a window, shining his light in through the glass panel, and a vampire lunged forward, hitting the glass and baring his teeth in an angry snarl. Dean stepped back sharply and we all moved away from the cell.

"Is someone there?" A woman's voice sounded, and Dean turned to his left, shining his light in.

"Please, please help me!"

I looked over Dean's shoulder as he raised the flashlight, illuminating the creature inside. She looked at us desperately, a collar around her neck which was padlocked to a chain in the wall, and this was connected to two cuffs around her wrists.

I recognised her.

Long dark curly hair, intricate tribal tattooing down her arm. It was the djinn that we'd encountered when Sam had first come back into our lives - she'd come after Dean and I as revenge for killing her father. Dean too seemed to recognise her, but he didn't reply.

"You gotta get me out of here," she begged, her eyes wide and terrified. "You gotta get me out of here… please!"

"Come on Dean," Sam said, walking up behind us.

"We gotta move," he added when Dean hesitated.

My mind was racing, trying to recall through the haze of what had occurred that night the djinn had come after us. Dean and I had run next door to save our neighbours when they'd been attacked, but it had been a trap, we'd been jumped by the djinn, her poison sending us into our own personal nightmares.

In the aftermath of Sam administering the antidote to her poison, and wanting to make sure Lisa and the kids were safe, Dean and I had never questioned what had happened to the creature. I looked at Sam now, seeing him with fresh eyes. It had been the Campbells who had cleaned up while Dean and I had recovered from the poisoning.

I recalled now how quickly they'd all high-tailed it out of there in that van they'd been travelling in.

"Well that explains the chains you had in that van," Dean said randomly to Sam in disgust, pushing on and not allowing his brother an answer.

We rounded a corner into a corridor that was lit up with yellowish light, I clicked off my flashlight as Cas hesitated.

"Wait," he said. We all froze and in the distance we could hear dogs growling and barking, getting louder by the second.

"Dammit," Meg groaned. "Here come the guards."

Dean's eyes widened in terror. "Hellhounds."

"Go!" He added, pushing me ahead of him as we all started running for a set of double-bay doors at the end of the hallway, bashing through them with the sound of snarls right on our heels.

Meg's two goons were the slowest, and as we turned to shut the doors, they yelled and tripped, falling to the ground where they were suddenly dragged backwards with bloodcurdling screams.

"Quick quick quick," Dean said, shoving the doors closed while Sam took a wooden stake and slid it through the handles of the door to wedge it closed. I unzipped the bag I had with me and grabbed salt, spreading it thickly across the threshold of the door. Blood splattered across the windows as the screams from Meg's demons stopped suddenly, and I backed away from the door, panting from the adrenalin.

"I knew this was a trap," Dean said.

"What do you want, a cupcake?" Meg asked sarcastically.

"All right," Sam said, pointing to the salt I'd just laid down. "That should keep them out."

"Not for long," I commented.

"How many of them are there?" Dean asked, looking at Meg.

"Lots," she said, swallowing hard. "I'll be pulling for you, from Cleveland," she added.

"What?!"

"I didn't know this was gonna happen," Meg replied to Dean. "Bright side: them chewing on my meatsuit ought to buy you a few seconds. Seacrest out."

She opened her mouth as if she was about to vacate her host.

Nothing happened.

Meg stared up at the ceiling, mouth open, her arms spread wide, waiting.

When it appeared the demon wasn't able to leave, Cas looked around.

"It's a spell, I think, from Crowley" he said. "Within these walls you're locked inside your body."

"Karma's a bitch, bitch," Dean sneered at her and Meg glared in reply.

Sam pulled Ruby's knife out of his jacket and looked at it thoughtfully.

"What are you doing, gonna slash at thin air until you hit something?" Dean scoffed.

Sam held the knife out to Meg.

"You can see them," he said. "Take this. Hold them off. It's our best bet."

Meg looked at the knife, then at Sam, nodding.

"At Crowley. Take it and go. You kill the smarmy dick. I'll hold off the dogs," she said, looking at the doors where the Hellhounds were still attempting to smash through.

"What?" Dean asked. "How you gonna do that?"

Meg smirked, unexpectedly grabbed Castiel by his tie and kissed him, sliding her arms around the angel. I grimaced at the show of … whatever it was, and shook my head as Meg pulled away with a satisfied expression, but Castiel didn't. He took it one step further, spinning the demon and pinning her against the wall, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and kissing her like it was their last night on earth.

"Oh, ew," I grimaced.

I turned away to look at Dean who was staring with his mouth wide open, dumbfounded.

"What was that?" Meg asked breathlessly as Cas pulled away, watching her intently.

"I learned that from the pizza man," the angel replied, glancing at Sam and Dean.

"Well, A-plus for you," Meg said appreciatively. "I feel so… clean."

Meg pulled away, holding up Castiel's angel blade, which she'd lifted off him during the make-out session. "Okay, gotta go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, is that gonna work on a Hellhound?" Dean asked.

"Well we're about to find out," she said, looking at the doors.

"Run!" Meg ordered, and she didn't have to tell us twice. Dean took my arm and hurriedly pushed me ahead of him, bringing up the rear as Sam and Cas led the way down the hallway, deeper into the prison.

We pushed our way into a dark stairwell. I pulled out my flashlight and aimed it ahead of us, Dean and Sam doing the same.

"Can't see jack," Dean muttered as Cas continued to walk confidently around a landing and start down the next set of steps.

There was a sudden flash of blinding light, and Cas vanished before our eyes.

"Cas?!" Dean yelled, swinging his light around the room.

"Dean…" Sam said, staring across the room. I followed his gaze and saw Samuel standing by a wall, his hand still pressed to an angel banishing sigil.

"You son of a bitch," I muttered as Samuel stared at us defiantly.

"You sold us out?" Dean asked.

We were grabbed from behind without warning. I glimpsed at least one of the demons we'd interacted with before when handing over the rugaru; they had us well and truly in their grips now.

"Damn you, Samuel!" Dean spat at the man, who watched without any emotion - it was almost as if he was the soulless one around here, not Sam.

"Yes," Crowley said as he walked into the room from behind Samuel wearing his trademark black suit and tie, a smug expression on his face. He glanced at Samuel, who was avoiding looking any of us in the eyes. I noted that once the demon had appeared his demeanor had shifted from confident to uncomfortable: maybe he did have a conscience after all, but it wasn't going to help us.

"And I have to say, best purchase I've made since Dick Cheney," Crowley added as he walked past the older man.

"Hiya, Crowley," Dean said in mock cheer. "How's tricks?"

"Above your pay grade," Crowley responded. "Been working. Big things. Alas, you'll be too dead to participate," he added in an upbeat tone.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Shame I have to do away with you three. Rather enjoyed your indentured servitude."

---

They separated us, throwing us into adjoining cells. I turned and looked out a little window set into the door, seeing the demons retreat down the hall, leaving us alone. For now.

There was no illumination in the room other than a faint silvery glow from the moon filtering through a tiny window high up on the opposite wall. I assessed it as an escape route, discounting it almost immediately.

We could get out of this. We'd gotten out of worse before.

"Dean?!" I yelled, forcing myself to take long, slow breaths in the darkness.

"I'm here!" Dean called out to my left and I instinctively moved toward the sound of his voice, touching the wall that separated us, pulling my hand back with a grimace when I touched something wet.

"Sam?!" Dean yelled, and on the other side of my cell I heard Sam respond.

"Yeah!"

"I'm standing in pee," Dean announced.

"Consider yourself lucky," came the reply.

Dean muttered a reply I couldn't quite hear, and looked around to see that my cell wasn't a whole lot luckier. There was just enough light coming into the room for me to see claw marks on the previously padded walls, bloody scrapes where something had literally tried to dig its way out - and failed.

Outside my cell I heard a metal grating, like a door was being opened. Then Dean's voice sounded; it didn't take long to understand that he had a visitor.

"You want forgiveness, find a priest," Dean said, his voice dark and angry.

"I just want you to understand," Samuel's voice sounded.

"Oh I understand… that you're a liar," Dean countered, his voice was simmering with rage. "You talk about putting blood first, which is funny 'cause you sound just like my Dad. The difference is, he actually did."

"I am putting blood first."

"Oh, gimme a break!" Dean scoffed, and I snorted at Samuel's definition of blood.

"Mary's my blood! My daughter!" Samuel yelled. "Don't come at me like I sold you out, Dean. You sold out your own mother. It was her or Sam, and you chose Sam, plain and simple."

"Oh that is such crap!" Dean replied. "You wanna know what really happened? You chose a demon over your own grandsons! You even had the nerve to try and tell Beth she was your family, Patrick's daughter, one of your own. You are so full of bullshit Samuel you might as well be swimming in the sewers."

"See it how you want," Samuel said. "I don't even know what Sam is. And you want me to protect him? And you? You're a stranger."

The both fell silent.

"No, really, tell me: what exactly are you supposed to be to me?" Samuel asked after a moment.

"I'll tell you who I am," Dean said, his voice so angry that it scared me. "I'm the guy you never wanna see again. 'Cause I'll make it out of here, trust me. And the next time you see me, I'll be there to kill you."

There was a pause, as if Samuel was assessing the threat he'd just received; I knew Dean meant every word, and I was right there with him. We'd escaped worse, we'd do it again, and when we did, Samuel wouldn't be able to run fast or far enough, to escape Dean's vengeance.

"Don't think there's gonna be a next time," Samuel replied finally.

"Whatever gets you through the night," Dean sneered.

Everything fell silent on the other side of the wall.

I held my breath, listening for movement, and jumped when my cell door opened without warning. I spun into a crouch, scooting away from the door, but it was no use. Two demons moved in and quickly overpowered me.

I struggled as they pulled me out of the cell, beside me Dean was also getting dragged through his door. Watching from further down the hallway was Samuel, his head dropped low, almost like he was ashamed of what he was allowing to happen.

"Dean!" I called out, he looked back at me, starting to fight harder when he realised I was there.

"No, no, you bastard, leave her out of this!" Dean yelled at Samuel.

"You watch us, Samuel, you look at what you're allowing to happen here!" I shouted back at the man trying to hide in the corner. He ignored me, and refused to turn his head.

"Coward!" I yelled one more time.

We were both manhandled down to the end of the hallway and unceremoniously shoved into a tiled room that looked like it had once been communal showers. There was blood and gore all over the floor and walls, a bath in the centre of the room - more of a trough really - was covered in black goo and entrails.

I recoiled from it, as Dean pulled me to him and away from the door which slammed closed behind us.

Dean turned and grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him.

"Beth," he said forcefully, squeezing firmly. "Are you here? Are you focused?"

His tone wasn't unlike John's when he'd first been training me. The trauma of the hunt was a lot for teenagers, and I'd not been raised in the hunter life, so it had been particularly hard on me at first. Many times I'd been paralysed from fear, and John or Dean had spoken to me in exactly the same way, forcing me to be in my body, present and in the moment.

"Yeah," I said, swallowing hard and pushing the fear deep down into my stomach, mentally slamming a lid on it. Dean watched as I forced my breathing to slow, and waited until I lifted my eyes to look into his. "Yeah I'm here."

There was nothing but pure killer in his eyes, he had slipped into the zone that pushed us to our very limits of hunting, where we could do the unthinkable, and deal with whatever came from it later.

"Good," he nodded, happy with whatever he saw. "Get ready."

His hands left my head and he started to move around the room, looking for weapons and anything else to help us escape whatever Crowley had planned. We automatically split up to move faster, I took the far side where there were shower stalls, some of them had bloody curtains still hanging from metal bars.

I pushed one curtain back, seeing a half-eaten rib cage from a humanoid creature.

There was nothing to fight with here. This was nothing more than a kill zone.

Behind us, the doors to the room rammed open and the demons were back, shoving three men ahead of them.

"Enjoy," one of the demons said to the new arrivals, and then closed the doors behind them on the way out. Dean turned to look at the three newcomers, a cocky expression crossing his face.

"All right, all right, Shawshank's a great flick, but let's skip the shower scene, eh?" He joked, the three men stared at him, and one of them turned to look me up and down, smiling at what he saw.

"Look," he said, grinning at the man next to him. "Breakfast."

I glanced at Dean, and he frowned, edging toward me as the three men chuckled, and started to move into the room.

"Ghouls?" I asked, looking at Dean. He shrugged, and all three of the men laughed.

Yep, ghouls.

The one that had been eyeing me off moved confidently toward me, his eyes hungry as I sank into a defensive stance, preparing myself to fight once he got in close. The other two decided to go after Dean, who bounced around the room in a boxer style movement, daring them to attack.

The single guy lunged at me at the same time as the others attacked Dean, flanking him as he tried to dodge, failing. I heard him grunt as I ducked a punch from the grizzly bear of a man who had underestimated my ability to fight. I skipped around behind him, and landed a quick jab to his kidneys, causing him to roar in anger.

Behind me Dean was holding his own, until one of the ghouls got him in a headlock, trying to take a chunk out of Dean's neck. I ran to intercede, and slipped on a bloody spill, crashing to the hard cement floor in a tangle of limbs, the wind knocked out of me.

"Frickin' hate…ghouls," Dean choked out as he tried to pry the arm free from around his neck, while the second ghoul moved in from the front. "Let me go you son of a bitch!"

I lashed out with my boots, kicking the second one in the shin, and he yelled in pain, turning to growl at me wildly.

I rolled to my feet as the big guy tried to grab me from behind, springing away from them both as Dean smashed the ghoul who was choking him backwards into a wall, forcing him to let go. Dean didn't hesitate, and ran at the bigger of the guys closing in on me, jumping on his back and locking his arm around the ghouls neck.

The smaller one ignored the fight going alongside him and pounced at me, teeth bared as he tore at my shirt, ripping the sleeve, but I was able to duck out of reach.

Dean was pulled off the big fella, and threw a right hook at the second ghoul attacking. I shoved the big fella in the back, sending him stumbling into the bathtub, but the distraction had given my pursuer time to catch up, and I hit the ground, the ghoul's body landing on top of mine.

Behind us, the doors smashed open, and Sam pushed through, enraged.

"Sam!" I called out. He took everything in with one glance, sized up the situation and then pulled a metal bar off the wall with an adrenalin-fueled rage, swinging it toward me and hitting the ghoul that was trying to take a chunk out of my neck. The impact sent him rolling across the floor, then Sam targeted the two that were about to bite Dean.

Sam's fury was barely contained as he pounded his way through skin and sinew, knocking the ghouls to the floor first, and then ramming the metal bar through their chests, killing them.

I gasped for breath, lying on the floor and groaning as Dean stumbled to his feet, moving to hold out a hand.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, peachy," I muttered, grasping his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet.

Sam was already rounding us up and moving us toward the exit, urging us to keep moving.

As we hurried down the hallway, moving toward what seemed to be an exit, we heard shrieking from another room, and I stopped.

"That's Meg," I said, glancing at the boys.

I shouldn't care, I told myself, let her suffer.

"Let's go," Dean said, making the decision for us and moving toward the room.

From the entrance to the room I could see Meg strapped to a gurney, and Christian Campbell's possessed body was kneeling beside her, slicing with Ruby's knife into the pristine white skin around her kidneys. Meg cried out again in pain, and then started to laugh when she saw Dean.

The laughter caused Christian to stand up and look at her.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked, confused.

Dean reached the demon, and grabbed the knife out of his hand before he even saw what was coming, stabbing the man in the back.

"Dean Winchester's behind you, meatsack," Meg laughed as Christian fell to the ground dead.

"We should go," Sam said.

Dean looked at the demon strapped to the gurney and sighed, moving to undo the straps holding her down. Meg climbed off the table and went for her clothes.

"We should, but we're not," Dean said, looking at me. "We make our stand here."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, and Dean looked around the room, seeing a red duress alarm.

"That'll get him here," Dean said, now we just need a way to trap him.

"I got an idea," Sam said, looking down at Christian's body. "Give me the knife, we need blood."

---

Within minutes we were set up and ready for our plan to be executed.

We all hid in our positions, and Dean flipped the red switch, sending alarm bells ringing throughout the facility.

It didn't take long for Crowley to come sauntering into the room, still looking like he was dressed for a funeral.

He took one look at the empty gurney and Christian's dead body and sighed, turning toward the alarm switch, seeing Dean there.

"You should be ghoul scat by now," he said.

I chose that moment when he was distracted by Dean to smash the demon with a heavy wrench, sending him stumbling to the floor in the centre of the room.

Crowley, glared at me, barely scathed, and brushed the dirt from his pants.

"Was that really necessary?" He asked, looking at me. "I just had this dry-cleaned."

He took a step toward me, finding himself unable to move.

Sam's big plan had been to draw a devil's trap on the ceiling in blood. He'd used the same trick to escape his cell, and now it was going to keep Crowley in his place too.

Crowley rolled his eyes, and looked at us. "So, to what do I owe the reach-around?" He asked.

Meg chose that moment to make her entrance, sauntering in from where she'd been waiting in the hallway.

"Crowley," she said with a smile.

"Whore."

"Okay, you know what," Meg said, raising her hand in the air and then clenching it into a fist. Crowley grunted and doubled-over, spitting up blood.

"The best torturers never get their hands dirty," Meg commented, looking sideways at Dean. She opened her hand and Crowley gasped for air, looking up at us with a red face.

"Sam wants a word with you," Meg said.

"What can I do for you, Sam?" Crowley asked congenially.

"You know damn well. I want my soul back," Sam replied.

"And here I thought you just grew some balls, Sam," Meg said with a smirk, clearly amused by this new revelation.

"Well?" Sam asked, ignoring her and looking at Crowley.

"No."

"Meg?" Dean asked, his question pointed.

Meg clenched her hand again, and Crowley fell to his knees this time, a crunching noise sounding from inside his body. He gagged, coughing up more blood, falling to his hands and knees.

"I can't!" Crowley spat out, looking up at Sam.

"Can't, or won't?" Sam asked.

"I said 'can't' and I meant 'can't', you mop-headed lumberjack," Crowley spat out.

"I was lucky to get this much of you out," he said, sitting back on his heels, gasping for air. "Going back in there for the sloppy bits? No way. I'm good, but those two in there? Forget it."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Sam questioned.

"You don't," Crowley said. "But it doesn't change anything. I'm telling you…" He gasped for a couple of breaths and looked questioningly at our brother.

"Sam, why do you want the thing back?" He asked, Sam's eyes narrowed. "Satan's got one juicy source of entertainment in there. I'd swallow a rag off a bathhouse floor before I took that soul. Unless you want to be a drooling mess."

Meg looked sideways at Sam, almost sadly.

"Sam I hate to say it, but he's-"

"Yeah, right," Sam said shortly. "I get it. Thanks." He seemed to struggle with this for just a moment and then he looked at Meg.

"He's all yours."

"Who, what are you, crazy?" Dean asked. "He's our only hope."

"Dean, you heard him," Sam said. "He can't get it. He's useless."

Dean hesitated, looking from Sam to me, his lips pursed together in frustration. He looked down at Ruby's knife in his hand, thinking over what he was about to do, and then handed it to Meg, who smiled.

Crowley actually managed to look scared.

Meg brandished the dagger menacingly, taking a step toward the captured King of Hell. She stopped at the threshold to the devil's trap, turning to look back at us with her Hellhound black-blood splattered face.

"You'll let me back out, right?" She asked. Both Dean and Sam nodded silently, staring at Crowley.

She smirked and turned back toward the other demon.

"This is for Lucifer, you pompous little-"

Crowley lunged suddenly for Meg, grabbing the knife and sweeping her legs out from under her. She landed on the ground with a grunt, Crowley stood, knife in hand and then threw it upwards, driving the blade into the devil's trap, breaking it.

"That's better," Crowley said as he stepped forward, free.

He flicked his hands in the air and sent the three of us flying through the air, hitting the brick walls with force. I was next to Dean, Sam on the other side of the room. The wind was knocked from my lungs, and I sucked in a cloud of dust set adrift from the bricks when we'd hit them, causing me to cough roughly while pinned to the wall.

Meg got to her feet just as Crowley used his demonic ability to pull the knife back down from the ceiling and into his hand, pointing it at her throat.

"You don't know torture, you little insect," he said to Meg.

Behind him Castiel appeared holding a hessian bag, glaring at Crowley.

"Leave them alone," he demanded in a calm, controlled voice.

The demon spun to look at him, smirking.

"Castiel," he said in an equally as calm voice as the angel. "Haven't seen you all season. You the cavalry now?"

"Put the knife down."

"You that bossy in Heaven?" Crowley asked with a smile. "Hear you're losing out to Raphael. Whole affair makes Vietnam look like a roller derby."

Castiel stared him down, reaching into the bag while Crowley watched, amused.

"What's in the gift bag?" He asked, and Castiel pulled out a browned human skull.

"You are," Cas replied, holding it up for Crowley to see.

The smile dropped from Crowley's face, and he looked at Cas.

"Not possible," he said, but I could see the panic behind his eyes.

"You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have," Cas replied.

Crowley moved to tuck the knife under his arm, and then clapped slowly at the angel.

"Cookie for you," he said sarcastically.

Cas dropped the bag of bones on the ground.

"Can you restore Sam's soul, or not?"

The demon snapped his fingers and the force that had been holding me against the wall disappeared. Dean and I slid down the wall until we landed on our feet, Sam doing the same across from us.

"If I could help out in any other…"

"Answer him!" Dean snapped. We all looked expectantly at the demon.

He breathed deeply and then looked at Cas, shrugging.

"I can't," he said, signing his own death warrant.

Cas reached out a hand and the bag next to him caught fire in a blaze of orange flame, the heat rippling across to the room, the light from the fire blinding us as Crowley caught fire, sending him to a screaming, fiery death.

Before our very eyes the demon fell to the ground in a pile of dark, smelly ash.

Dean advanced to look closer at the simmering ashes of Crowley's demise; Meg backed up hesitantly, I'm sure she was all of a sudden keenly aware that she was surrounded by people who wanted her equally as dead as Crowley.

Sam moved to pick up the knife that Crowley had been holding, and when we looked back, Meg was gone.

"Well she's smart, I'll give her that," Dean said when he noticed her gone. "I was gonna kill her too."

He turned to smirk at Cas. "Of course I'd have given you an hour with her first," he quipped, earning himself a confused look.

"Why would I want that?" Cas asked.

I sniggered at the naivety once again, Dean opened his mouth to answer and then thought better of it. It seemed you could take the angel out of Heaven, but you couldn't take the innocence out of the angel, even with a fine education like the one he'd received from the pizza man.

"Forget it," Dean said, slipping his arm around me and pulling me close. "At least you get it," he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my skin and, now that the danger was over, sending shivers down my spine.

"Mmm, I like the thought of an hour alone with you," I said softly to him as Sam rolled his eyes at us and clapped Cas on the shoulder, indicating that we should all leave.

As we made our way back to the car, Cas was back to brooding.

Dean looked over at him as he rounded the car.

"Thanks, Cas. If it hadn't been for you-"

"Crowley was right," Cas cut in, looking at me, and I realised we'd already had part of this discussion earlier. "It's not going well for me, upstairs."

"If there's anything we can do to help-" I started to offer.

"There isn't," he replied. "I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time I'd rather be here."

"Look, Cas, we know you got a steaming pile on your plate," Dean said, looking sympathetically at the angel. "There's no need for apologies. We're your friends."

Cas nodded and looked across the car at Sam.

"Listen, Sam, we'll find another way."

Sam nodded unconvincingly. "You really wanna help?" He asked, seeing Cas nod. "Prison full of monsters. Can't just leave 'em, can't let 'em go," he pointed out.

"I understand," the angel replied and then disappeared without any kind of good bye, just the flutter of angel wings sounding on the air.

"He's right, you know?" Dean said after a moment.

"About?"

"About your soul. We'll figure something out."

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head. "We won't."

"Sam…" I started to say.

"No, Beth, you heard what Crowley said. And I heard what Cas said. Putting this thing back in would smash me to bits." I bit my lip when he mentioned Cas, and while I should have been surprised that he'd overheard the conversation, I wasn't.

"We don't know that for sure," Dean insisted.

"You know what? When angels and demons agree on something, call me nuts, I pay attention," Sam snapped, backing away from the car and pacing.

"You say this now?" Dean asked. "After we practically died trying to-"

"Exactly!" Sam said, cutting him off. "We almost got ourselves killed. I mean, how many times do we risk our asses for this?" He shook his head. "Enough's enough."

"Sam-"

"I don't think I want it back," Sam said shortly.

"You don't even know what you're saying."

"No, Dean, I'm saying something you don't like," Sam argued. "You both obviously care, a lot. But I think maybe I'm better off without it."

"You're wrong," Dean insisted. "You don't know how wrong you are."

There was a heaviness to those words, an underlying concern of futures yet to be lived that might be impacted by the very fact that Sam was without his soul. Dean and I exchanged a look of concern that we seemed to be on the same trajectory that we'd been trying to avoid all this time - a world where the monsters won, and we lost everything we knew and loved.

"I'm not sure about that," Sam replied, he turned around and started to walk away from us, a dejected slump to his shoulders.

"Sam, don't walk away," Dean called out. "Sam! Sam!"

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES

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Song for this chapter is - Bones by Ms Mr

Thanks for reading :)

The next couple of episodes will be a bit condensed and summarised because it was hard to pull them together in a unique way to include Beth. I hope you like the way I chose to do it. I just need to keep the story moving - some of the times I get stuck and not updating is because I want so desperately to do the story justice, but it can be hard to see Beth's story within it - often because the interesting parts for her are the in-betweens.

As always, please leave a review, they really help me stay motivated!