It's that time of the week again. I always enjoy writing the adrenaline-packed chapters almost as much as I enjoy the angsty ones. This one has a healthy balance of action and angst :P

Chapter 22

Sam was focusing on finding a way to draw the two demons to the boxes. Gwydion was hovering over his shoulder, which got on his nerves and made his skin crawl. Gwydion was no Lucifer, but he was something out of hell, and hell clung to him. Sam could almost smell it on him. He wondered if Dean could too. Well, Sam reminded himself, if he could, he was not going to confide in Sam any time soon.

He glanced up at Dean who was pacing the library. He looked ready to explode. Sam cleared his throat.

"I'm sure Jim and Blair will sort this out."

Dean snorted.

"Oh yeah. I'm sure Jim will be easily convinced to kill his best friend for the greater good or whatever."

Gwydion yawned. Sam did his best to ignore him. Some of his sarcastic reactions reminded him of the time he had Lucifer in his head. It almost made him press against his hand again, just to see if Gwydion would disappear. He struggled to control himself. Dean was familiar with that gesture enough, if he caught Sam doing this, he would know something was wrong.

"Anything on how to draw them here?" Dean asked.

Sam took a deep breath, bringing his mind back to the problem at hand.

"Maybe. We have the third box. Apparently, that's the most important one. It's their sister, and she's supposed to be the most powerful. They're also bound to her, she's like their commanding officer or something."

Dean nodded at that.

"So, we have a valuable hostage. That's what you're saying?"

"Essentially, yeah," Sam agreed.

Dean looked thoughtful.

"Any way we can convince them to get back in the box if we promise not to set fire to dear sis?"

Sam grimaced.

"We don't know if setting the boxes on fire would actually do anything," he pointed out.

He glanced uncertainly at Gwydion.

"It won't," Gwydion agreed. "Well, you'll destroy the only thing that contains the demons, so you'd be actually setting them free for good."

There was a faint trace of amusement in his tone. Dean looked like he wanted to punch him in the face.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" he snapped. "If you're so smartass about it and all."

Gwydion smirked, seemingly enjoying having Dean riled up.

"Open the third box."

Sam's head snapped up.

"What? But that'll release the last demon. Isn't this what we're trying to avoid?"

Gwydion rolled his eyes.

"You misunderstood me. Open the last box somewhere contained. You've got some rooms here built especially for keeping things locked up."

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"You're up to something," he accused.

Gwydion, however, shook his head.

"I'm really not."

"Well, if the demons are so powerful will even the Men of Letters Bunker contain then?' Sam asked reasonably.

Gwydion did not miss a beat.

"No."

Dean snorted.

"That's what I thought."

Gwydion was beginning to look annoyed.

"It will keep her contained enough for the two others to get in here, if you allow them in."

Dean gaped at him.

"Why the hell would we do that?"

Gwydion looked at him pointedly.

"Because, you will also have Jim and Blair in the room. Then you lock them all in and haul ass. The demons make for Jim. Hopefully, Blair can take them all to the spirit world and lock them in before Jim – or rather they, kill him."

The plan was unscrupulous. Worthy of a demon. Sam hated being involved.

"I don't like this," Dean said, voicing Sam's thoughts aloud. "Do you realize how many things could go wrong?"

Gwydion nodded.

"Of course. I'm working with you for one thing. But what mustn't go wrong is keeping the demons contained."

"And Blair," Sam said.

Gwydion looked like he could care less about Blair.

"Sandburg's life depends on how connected Ellison is to his sentinel side," Gwydion said. "And how connected the two are to each other. Now…shall we get to work?"

Sam did not like this one bit. He noticed from the darkness in Dean's eyes that he too thought things would go badly for all four of them.

xxxXXXXxxx

Predictably, Jim made a lot of noise when he discovered he and Sandburg were supposed to lock themselves up with the demons. It was Blair who put a stop to his protests.

"Let's just get this over with," he said.

Jim glared at him.

"Sandburg, you do realize once we get this over with, you might no longer be alive?"

Blair shrugged.

"Of course. I'm not taking this lightly, man."

Jim scoffed.

"Could have fooled me."

Blair ignored the sarcasm.

"However this ends, this was my choice. And if you want to blame anyone, Jim, blame me."

Jim did not answer. Blair supposed he had no right to ask him to feel ok with something like that. He knew he wouldn't have, if he had been in Jim's place.

Gwydion had left. He had given the four all the instructions necessary, and then he had announced his departure. When Dean had called him a coward, Gwydion had not even batted an eye.

"Coward is just another word for survivor, Winchester," he had pointed out.

Dean had just glared at him.

"You'd better pray real hard I don't see your face again," he had threatened.

"I don't pray," Gwydion had replied. "But yes, I do hope I don't meet any of you again. This has been a chore."

With the Winchesters' luck, they would probably run into Gwydion during whatever future crisis they would be facing. But, for now, it was probably for the best that he had gone.

The plan was simple – at least on paper. Dean and Sam had a dungeon, and that was where they would take the box with the third demon and open it. Jim and Blair would be there in a protective sigil.

"The demon, once freed, won't be able to get to you," Sam explained. "However, that will only be temporary. It will find a way to break the wards and it's powerful enough to succeed."

"Hopefully, it won't be before we draw the other two demons there," Dean took over. "Then, once the three are there, close the door. The place has a camera, so we'll watch your progress from the war room."

"Our progress," Jim repeated tightly.

Sam nodded.

"Once all three demons are there, all you have to do is allow them in."

Jim snorted, shaking his head.

"You think it's so easy, don't you?"

Sam looked at him gravely.

"I know it isn't," he said tightly. "I know it's the most difficult thing you'll ever do."

He took a deep shaky breath. Dean seemed to push back whatever anger he felt at Sam for how he handled Lisa and Ben and touched his shoulder briefly. Sam nodded curtly in thanks but did not look at him.

"Fine," Jim said. "I allow them in. Then?"

"Then they'll make you go straight for me," Blair said. "And you'll have to let them. Don't fight until…well, until they finish the job."

"And then?" Jim asked with clenched teeth.

Blair shrugged.

"Then the wolf will take over. Your own spirit animal will come and you'll follow the both to the spirit world where you'll expel the demons."

Jim's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"And get you back?" he checked.

Blair shrugged.

"I suppose. Yeah. That's the plan."

Jim shook his head.

"This is the worst plan I've ever heard and it depends on luck and mumbo jumbo."

Sam cleared his throat.

"Actually, it depends on you believing that mumbo jumbo. Otherwise, Sandburg's chances of returning drop considerably."

Jim took a deep breath.

"That's what I'm worried about," he pointed out. "I mean, what if I fail? In fact, what if I can't take the demons to the spirit world at all? They'll be stuck in my head then."

"Then you better make damn sure they don't," Dean told him.

Jim scoffed.

"It's easy for you to say."

Still, despite the protests, he finally accepted his part to play. As they went towards the dungeon, he grabbed Sandburg's arm.

"Hey," he began, then stopped, realizing that he had no clue what to say.

What was he supposed to tell the man he was going to kill? The person he loved like a brother, who was more family than any of the other Ellisons had ever been? He wanted to let Blair know, but the words were stuck in his throat.

Blair understood. Blair always understood. He patted Jim's arm.

"Save it," he said. "For when you bring me back."

xxxxXXXxxxx

Dean and Sam drew a protection pentagram for Jim and Blair. Then they brought the box and set it on a small chair. Jim and Blair were already inside the pentagram.

"Right," Dean said. "We open the box, we haul ass, then you give us about fifteen to bring the demons down here."

"They'll know it's a trick," Sam added. "But they'll think they can gain the upper hand. Besides, if that's their sister in there, they won't be able to resist."

Dean glanced at him, but said nothing. He cleared his throat.

"Right. Let's get the show on the road, shall we?"

He reached out to open the box before Sam could decide to volunteer – Sam had opened enough demonic stuff and had freed enough demons (by mistake, true), and Dean knew how he felt about the process. He also knew Sam would have done it instantly, because he had a martyr complex that was bigger than Dean's (and that was saying a lot).

Dean unlocked the box, ignoring Sam's warning call. A black cloud sprang out. Dean thought it vaguely resembled a fox, but he could not be sure. It went straight at him, and Dean found himself flung against the wall. He could feel the blood on his head through the dizziness.

Arms were suddenly around him, Sam's arms, strong and secure as they had always been, and Dean realized just how much he actually trusted his brother, despite all the missteps and secrets and lies. Sam pulled him up and dragged him out, leaning him against the wall as he shut the dungeon. Then he quickly turned to Dean.

"Are you OK?" Sam gasped, his hands now shaking as he patted Dean over. "Dean! Are you…?"

Dean shook his head to blink away the darkness. He grasped Sam's hands.

"Yeah," he said quickly. "Yeah, I'm…never better."

As his vision cleared, he noticed the pinched worry in Sam's eyes. He forced a smile.

"Really, Sammy," he insisted. "I only got my bell rung, that's all."

If anything, Sam looked even more distressed.

"You've been getting your bell rung quite a lot lately."

Dean patted his head, frowning slightly at the stickiness of the blood.

"I've got a hard head, remember?"

The joke fell flat.

"We need to fix you up."

Dean frowned. He pushed himself away from the wall.

"No time," he pointed out. "The two demons, remember?"

Sam looked pained, but he did not argue. Instead, he helped Dean along the corridor and up the stairs towards the exit. Dean allowed him. Still, once they were in front of the trap door, Sam pushed Dean back.

"Let me deal with them" he said. "My turn, after all."

Dean frowned.

"Your turn? What is this, highschool?"

Sam looked pointedly at him.

"I'm the one with the demon immunity, remember? They can't do anything to me. They can't possess me and they can't force me to do stuff because I'm undergoing the Trials."

Dean heard the involuntary triumph in Sam's voice. Sam, who had been used by demons since he had been born – since before that, really – now had an advantage over them. As long as he was doing the Trials, he was untouchable to them. Dean moved backwards, deciding to allow Sam this one moment of victory.

Sam flung the trap door open. The wind was blowing outside, a destructive wind, and dark clouds covered the sun, even though it was early morning. The demon's doing, Dean was sure of that.

"Hey!" Sam shouted. "We've got your sister!"

The wind seemed to wrap around him, but Sam stood firm.

"We've got your sister, and if we take you to the boxes, we won't harm her."

"Otherwise," Dean shouted, "We'll set the Guardian on her."

The wind intensified and it headed straight to them. For the second time that day, Dean found himself flung against the wall. Sam joined him this time. They lay for a while side by side, panting. The wind was still roaring in their ears.

Finally, Dean lifted his head. Sam was still lying face down. Dean felt a rush of fear, but Sam's chest was rising and falling, maybe a little too fast, but he was still alive and that was all that mattered to Dean.

Then Sam stirred and started coughing and it seemed to Dean like it would never stop. Dean lifted him up so he could breathe better, and kept a hand on his back, bracing him against the coughs.

"Alright, that…that doesn't sound good," he muttered. "But you're ok. Just…take a breath, Sammy. Right? That's all you've gotta do right now. Take a breath."

He tried to ignore the blood on Sam's lips, because if he thought too much about it, he was seriously afraid he would lose it.

Sam placed a hand on his knee, clutching tightly, as if Dean was the only thing keeping him in the present. Dean did not move. He listened as Sam's breaths evened out, the coughing tapering off.

"That's it," Dean said. "That's it, you're doing well."

Any conflicts between them were forgotten. Dean could not care less about the secrets, about Lisa and Ben, about anything. All he wanted was Sam alive and whole.

"You good?" he asked, once he was sure Sam could articulate words without losing both his lungs.

Sam nodded.

"Yeah," he gasped. "Yeah, I'm…"

He tried to clear his throat.

"You ok, Dean?" he asked.

Dean snorted.

"I told you, hard noggin'. You can ring it as much as you want, it still won't make a dent."

Sam snorted.

"That's not what you said when that kid hit you in the face with the baseball."

Dean huffed.

"Ghost kid, Sam. And he had a mean aim."

"You're just saying that because you don't want the world to know you got beat by a nine-year-old."

Sam paused, trying to stifle another coughing fit. Dean shook him slightly.

"Don't fight it. You don't want broken ribs on top of everything else. We should get you up and get you some water anyway."

Sam frowned.

"I can get myself up, thank you very much."

Dean raised his arms in surrender.

"Fine. When you take a header, don't come crying to me."

Sam did not answer. His face took on a grim expression.

"They're inside, right? The demons."

Dean nodded darkly.

"Yeah, they went straight for the dungeon. If Jim and Blair followed the plan, they opened the door for them and allowed them in."

Sam took a deep breath.

"On to stage two, then."

Dean did not really want to think about stage two. He was not comfortable with the idea of having people sacrifice themselves in such a manner. It reminded him of Sam – and the Trials.

xxxxxXXXXXxxxx

Jim and Blair stood behind the protective lines, watching the demon circle the room. It had taken the shape of a crow, and it was trying to get to them, but whenever it got too close it seemed to be repelled and was flung backwards. Jim could feel Blair shivering next to him. He glanced at his friend, but Blair's face was blank. Jim doubted he would have known how terrified Blair was if he had not heard his heartbeat speeding up whenever the crow got too close.

"Any minute now," Jim said.

He did not know what he was saying. Any minute now the other demons would be at the door and Jim would have to let them in – twice, and in ways he did not want to think about. And then…then the really hard part would come for Blair.

Something slammed itself against the door. Jim was ready.

"Stay where you are, Sandburg."

If Blair held to the protective sigil a while longer, maybe Jim could find another way that did not involve hurting him – killing him. Jim darted to the door. Blair was at his side.

"I thought I told you to stay where you are?"

Blair shrugged. There was no time for recriminations and explanations. Jim pushed the door open and drew back as he felt an impact against his chest that had him staggering. It was Blair that pulled the door closed again, preventing anything from getting out.

Jim felt it then, the moment the demons turned on him. They had abandoned their forms and were battering themselves against his mind. What had Sam said? That they weren't regular demons who could actually make possessions work. Unless it was the three of them at once, apparently. And the three of them wanted the perfect host. They wanted him.

Jim fought against the intrusion. He knew he shouldn't, but he could not surpass his survival instincts, especially not when he knew Blair's survival was also at stake. He fought and tried to push the demons back, out of his head and away from him.

"Jim, no!"

Blair was shouting at him, and the fact that he was actually pleading with Jim to allow the very thing that was going to get him killed was something that Jim could not accept.

"Jim, listen to me. Let go. Trust me. Let. Go."

Oh, I trust you, Chief, Jim thought. It's actually me I don't trust.

Still, he did what Blair asked him, because ultimately, he always did (even though Blair was not supposed to know just how easily Jim could give in to him, what would that do to Jim's reputation?). He relaxed and stopped fighting and let go.

It wasn't pleasant. The demons had a hold of him, and it felt as if his mind was being stabbed with sharp daggers. He found himself pushed aside, the part that was him was locked out of his own body, and he could only watch as someone else was now running the show.

Jim had hoped for oblivion. He had hoped that at least he would not get to see what he was being made to do. But of course that did not happen. He would see the moment he killed Sandburg – would feel himself doing it – and even if he did bring Blair back, he had no idea how he was going to forgive himself after that.

xxxXXXXxxxx

They had succeeded. They were now in the mind of the Guardian. They could feel the advantage of the keener senses, the survival instinct, the connection with the spirit world that the Guardian could not even understand. The moment they had been waiting for had finally arrived. It could have ended in tragedy for them, but it hadn't. They were together, they were stronger than ever, and they had their perfect host. The Guardian was howling at them, trying to push them out of his mind, but they ignored him. The Guardian's spirit animal, an enraged panther, was growling at them, ready to pounce. But even it could not take them down. Not when they were together, bound in such a manner.

There was only one threat to them now: the shaman. He was standing right there, not even trying to run away, as if his faith in his Guardian was so strong, he could not believe someone like him could ever be overcome. Well, they would prove him wrong. They now had control of this body, and the first act they would make it do was to remove the threat of the shaman. They made their way to the young man who stood there, head thrown back, a willing sacrifice. There was no fear in his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.

This was super fun. Join me next week for the conclusion and thanks for following me on this journey. Thanks for reading!