AN: Hey everyone! Merry Christmas! Sorry for the long wait, I had a tough time laying out the timeline and which order I wanted everything to progress in. every time I wrote in a section, I pushed it further into the storyline and added more. Anyhoo! This is a big longer than usual so I hope you enjoy!

Have a happy New Year!

Vanessa

…

Chapter Twenty: Hell Bent…

It was quiet, peaceful even. Dean couldn't remember the last time he sat back in his favorite leather lounge chair with a beer in hand to watch the game. A relaxed smile curled his lips.

"Dean!" Bonnie's voice yelled from upstairs, and he immediately jumped into action, taking the stairs two at a time to find her staring at him with an unimpressed look on her face.

"What happened?" he asked in concern looking her over.

She held up what he recognized as his dirty clothes; a pair of jeans in one hand and a jacket in the other. "Seriously? How many times have we talked about this? You can't mix Warinn blood with Numangu goo." She shook her head. "I almost washed these together, Dean."

He couldn't help it; he had to bite down on his lips to keep the grin at bay. He failed. "I'm sorry, baby…" he chuckled coming closer and kissing her creased forehead affectionately. "I don't mean to laugh, it's just that, when I heard you yell, I thought it was a lot more dire than that."

She huffed with a pout. "It is dire! I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly interested in blowing up our washing machine." Bonnie grumbled tossing the jeans back into the laundry hamper.

He sobered, straightening his face and nodding in agreement. "You're right. I should have been more careful. But you have to admit, it woulda been kind of cool, huh." He smirked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes and reluctantly allowed him an indulgent smile. "Maybe a little cool." She conceded with a twist of her lips.

Dean kissed her, grabbing the Numangu goo covered jacket from her hand. "Why don't you let me finish this and you relax for fifteen seconds, okay." He chuckled. He'd learned that in their years together, it was nearly impossible to get Bonnie to sit still, especially after just coming back from a hunt.

She relaxed, lolling her head back to stare up at him. "I'm sorry…I guess I'm just restless. I'm still buzzing from the last fight." She admitted rolling her shoulders.

Dean's brows raised, tossing the jacket into the washer. "Well believe it or not, sweetheart, I think I have a fix for that." She squealed in laughter when he tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her easily to their bedroom. But the second he dropped her on the bed, she disappeared. "Bonnie?"

"I don't know what's more depressing, watching you concoct these unrealistic scenarios where you two are in love and happy, or the ones where she dies." His own voice mocked him from the sofa chair in the corner.

Dean spun around to see Michael, his ankle elegantly crossed over his knee and his hands folded in his lap. "Get out of my head." He grumbled with embarrassed rage.

The angel rose gracefully, walking towards him, hands linked behind his back. "You seem to forget…you are in my head, Dean. These are just creative ways for me to keep you occupied and docile."

"I did what you wanted. Quit torturing me, or put me out of my misery already." He grumbled back.

Michael smirked. "All in due time. For now, you are still an asset to me. You may prove to be useful yet." He glanced back at the bed, and Bonnie reappeared, eyes blown out and lusty looking at Dean. "Have your fun…" he walked out of the room, and Dean watching him go until Bonnie called him back.

Then, as if the angel had never appeared at all, Dean fell back into his dream loop.

…

Three Months Later:

It had been a few painful months. There were nights when she cried herself to sleep, and days she refused to get out of bed, but as the weeks went by, Damon slowly saw her retreat from him and the people around her, and all of her energy was focused on saving Dean.

He was happy to see it at first, because if gave her purpose, but he couldn't help worry it was all for nothing. With every lead they got, they would hit another dead end. Every spell she found had a catch. She moved from one hot trail to the next, but each time, he saw it take something out of her. Her hope.

Damon walked through her front door, wandering around until he found her. She wasn't answering his calls, and it had him worried. "Bon?"

She didn't respond, but the creak in the floorboard indicated she was upstairs. He followed the sound of her quiet muttering to her room and his eyes darted around, taking in the chaos before him. He hadn't been in here for weeks, and was starting to understand why. Maps and post it notes littered the wall and her floor was cluttered with piles of opened and stacked books. She had gone deeper than he thought.

He leaned in the door jam, crossing his arms. "Redecorating?"

Bonnie's head shot up to look at him briefly before returning to her task. "What are you doing here?" she asked distractedly, flipping through her grimoire.

"Checking in on you. You aren't answering my calls." He regarded her with a cant of his head.

"I'm busy." She didn't look up at him this time.

"Bonnie…what is this?" he asked her in concern.

"What do you mean? I'm tracking Michael." She answered as if it was obvious.

Damon pushed off the wall and walked over the piles as he entered the room. "Following up on leads, asking around, that's tracking…this…" He gestured around. "is bordering on obsessive." If there was anyone who knew it was him. Damon had gone to similar lengths tracking Stefan, mind you, he kept his crazy to a closet door.

Now she was glaring at him from her cross-legged spot on the floor. "You said you were going to help me, Damon." She accused.

"And I want to. But you've cut me out, Bonnie. You barely leave the house, you don't answer anyone's calls, you haven't thought about anything else since you've been back." He broke to her calmly, worry etched in his tone.

Bonnie pushed to her feet standing toe to toe with him. "And why shouldn't I? I was too much of a coward to face him head on like Sam wanted to, and I'm not strong enough to fight Michael myself. So, if this is the only thing I can do, I'm going to do it." She exclaimed with determination.

Damon didn't fight her on it, he knew better than to argue when she had that look in her eyes. "Okay…so fill me in; what do we know?" he asked looking at the wall.

She shuffled over to the giant map eagerly and pointed to the green pin. "This is Sam and Hope. Three days ago, they found several bodies in Utah, all with their eyes burned out."

Damon nodded, crossing his arms and squaring his stance. "Angel possession. Lucifer?"

Bonnie nodded, biting her thumbnail pensively, a nervous habit she never got over. "Yeah, they've been hot on his trail for months but they haven't locked in on him long enough for Hope to bind him to a vessel. She thinks he has a witch of his own working for him."

He frowned. "If Sam is so close, why hasn't he made a move on him yet?"

"He's too weak. Body jumping is depleting him, and the more he does it, the faster the vessels burn out. But he's smart…he's always just one step ahead. Our only saving grace is that he's losing allies. Out of the four horsemen…" she gestured to the side of the wall where she had two names crossed out. "Only two remain. War and Pestilence are gone. When Sam took their rings, they all but disappeared off the face of the Earth. But, if Lucifer gets to Famine and Death before they do, then he can restore some of his power, making it nearly impossible to bind him to any vessel."

Damon walked closer to the wall, taking it all in. She had done a lot of work in three months. "Who's this?" he pointed to a red pin a few states over.

Bonnie's mouth folded tensely. "Michael. At least where I think he was last he was here. Castiel says he's been in Heaven preparing for a takeover. That was two weeks ago."

"Where is the wayward Angel?" Damon found himself enjoying his stoic and dry responses to his playful antics during his last few drop-ins. Something about him reminded him of Stefan.

She rubbed her face tiredly. "When Michael found out we were communicating he put him on lockdown. Haven't heard from him since. We're on our own."

"So now what? What reason does Michael have to come back here?" he questioned rhetorically in annoyance.

"He'll be back, he's waiting." Bonnie stated confidently, giving one last look at the wall before turning her attention back to her research laid out on her bed.

Damon glanced at her. "Waiting for what?"

"For Lucifer to possess Sam." She answered solemnly, under her breath.

He blinked, baffled. "But wouldn't that just make him stronger? Why not go after him now, when he's weak. Michael kills Lucifer, all is right with the world and he can fuck off to Heaven and let Dean go; it's a win win!" he proclaimed.

The witch sighed exasperatedly rubbing at her forehead. She had to remember Damon hadn't spent the last three months picking apart every scenario like she had. "It doesn't work that way, Damon. Michael and Lucifer are supposed to meet in battle in their true vessels. Brother against brother; just like Chuck planned it. As it is on Earth, so it is in Heaven. That's why it always had to be Sam and Dean." She added hollowly. She had agonized over this for weeks, trying to find a loophole, a way to lure him out, something to bring Michael back so they had a shot at getting to Dean, but nothing. "Michael's not coming back until his brother is ready to face him. And the only way that happens is if…" she began slowly, the gravity of the situation heavy on her words. "Is if Sam says yes…" she finished quickly and quietly, ashamed to even think of it.

The vampire scoffed. "Well, that's not happening. Guess that puts us right back at square one." He plopped down on her bed.

"Well…" She gnawed on her lip, scratching the back of her neck wondering if she should tell him. She crawled up on the bed, leaning against the headboard and crossing her legs. "There is something that Sam has me looking into. It's a bit more experimental. There's no guarantee it will work, but if it does, it puts us one step closer to getting Dean back." She finished with an optimistic shrug.

Damon grinned. "Lay it on me then." She smiled for the first time since she'd been back, and it warmed his dead heart.

"There may be a way for Dean to take the reigns back from Michael. I've been searching for something strong enough to incapacitate an arch angel long enough to get in his head. Traditional magic doesn't work on him like that, so that's not an option, but if I can draw strength from a strong enough source and have a way to hold him down…I can do it." She finished excitedly, but she watched the gears turn in his head slowly.

"What exactly are we talking about here, Bonnie?" he eyed her speculatively. He knew her well enough to know when she was omitting important information. "How strong a source…?"

She huffed a sigh, holding his stare unwaveringly, full of resolve. "Expression."

"Nope!" Damon was rising to his feet instantly, pacing in barely contained rage. "No, no, no, no, no and did I mention NO?! Do you recall what happened the last time you used expression? People died, Bonnie! YOU died!" He directed at her passionately. He shook his head. "I'm not letting that happen again, I won't." he vowed dangerously.

She did her best to stay calm, but arguing with Damon always brought out the fire in her. "It's different this time."

He scoffed loudly, running his hands through her hair restlessly, rounding back on her incredulously. "Why because it's Dean?! Because you haven't sacrificed enough for these people, you're going to tap into the darkest magic you've ever used and risk not only your own life but everyone else's just for a chance; a small inkling that it might work?! No, absolutely not!"

Bonnie was furious now, pushing off her bed and facing him head on. "Yes, because it's Dean, Damon! Because I love him, and I can't stand the thought that this happened to him because of me!" He glanced away, the words slicing right through him. "And don't turn this around on me like I'm the reckless one! If it was Elena, you would have done the same thing – and you have a hundred times over!"

"I was wrong!" he yelled back, veins bulging in his neck and forehead. "And look where it got me! That kind of love is toxic; it destroys you from the inside until there's nothing left, don't you see that? No matter what I did to save her; no matter what deal I made, or who I killed, there was always a price to pay, and you know who paid it? The people I cared about! Every fucking time!" He released a heavy exhale, his rant concluding. "Can you live with that on your conscious, Bonnie?" he asked gravely. "Because I couldn't."

Her shoulders slumped and the fight left her as she stared at the ground. She didn't want to admit that he was right. When did Damon become the level headed one between them? "What else am I supposed to do?" she asked with a helpless shrug. "Let him go? Give up?" Tears shone in her eyes.

"No…" He shook his head grabbing her shoulders gently and meeting her gaze. "You never give up. We just find another way, that's all."

She tried not to let it bother her how quickly she relaxed at his touch. "What if there is no other way?"

"Bonnie…I made you a promise. I will find a way to bring Dean back to you. Come literal Hell or high water, okay?" his mouth quirked, as he brushed a stray hair behind her ear affectionately. "But not like this. Promise me."

Bonnie nodded her mouth twisting as she held back her desperate need to argue. "Okay…okay, I promise." She conceded.

Damon sighed heavily in relief. He was expecting a bigger fight if he was honest, but he'd take what he could get. "Good. Now go take a shower and put on some clean clothes; I'm getting Jeremy flashbacks. All you're missing is the bottle of booze and oh wait…" he toed it out from under a book. "There it is." He teased shamelessly.

"Fuck you…" she said, but it was accompanied by a stiff punch to the shoulder and a ghost of a smirk, which softened the blow. "It's not that bad."

He nodded. "Oh, it is that bad, Bon. Vampire nose, remember?" He dodged another punch, and let her push him out the door. "Plus if we're going out, we wouldn't want you attracting the wrong kinda people."

"Get out, you're so disgusting." But once he was on the other side of the door, she sniffed her shirt, and had to agree. With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed her robe and wrenched the door open, only to find Damon leaning against the wall beside her, lolling his head in her direction with a sly smirk. "Shut up." She grumbled with a glare, crossing the hallway to the bathroom.

And even though she threw angry words and annoyed stares in his direction, it was the first time he saw his friend Bonnie – his Bonnie, in a long time.

…

Hope eyed Sam as they burned the last of the demon bodies. It had been too close. They had succeeded with getting Famine's ring, but she had witnessed first hand the darkness he tried so hard to keep from her. Famine's influence had Sam fiending for demon blood and before she could stop him, he was feeding. Fighting her own hunger, she pulled him back from the edge and together they were able to exorcise the demon souls out of the withered old black horseman. Now, they were cleaning up the mess left behind, the third ring in their possession.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, breaking the sound of the cracking fire.

He was locked in on the flames. "We should call Bonnie. Tell her we're almost ready." He responded, ignoring the question completely.

"But we're not, Sam. We still need to get to Death and he has been the hardest to find. Not to mention the fact that you still haven't even told her the real reason you have her doing this." She voiced, tired of walking on egg shells about it. "She thinks this is for Dean…"

Finally, at the sound of his brother's name he glanced over. "It is. But it needs to be tested first." He rasped indifferently.

She grabbed his hands desperately. "Not by you. This is insane! They know you; they know the lengths you'll go to for your brother. Don't you see we are playing right into their trap?" Hope pleaded with him.

"Michael won't show himself until Lucifer is ready for him; we can't get to Dean without Michael, Hope, so what else are we supposed to do!?"

The pressure was mounting up on him, the stress making him desperate. In the last three months, Sam had refused to believe he had seen his brother for the last time. He'd been hell bent on finding him, no matter what got in the way, and Hope was along for the ride. She found herself having to rein him back at times; being the sensible level headed of the two for a change. His jiminy cricket. But after realizing his plans, and the power he was capable of on demon blood…she was desperate to stop him.

"Not this!" She cried, tears pooling in her eyes. "If this doesn't work, Chuck gets exactly what he wants. Lucifer wins. Michael wins. If this doesn't work…we lose you both." She whispered sadly, hoping to sway him. "I'm not as strong as Bonnie is; I won't survive it. Not without you. I can't lose another person I love, Sam." She forced out around her tears. She had been holding back the urge to tell him these last few months, unsure of the timing, worried that maybe it would be too soon for him, but in her vulnerable state she couldn't hold the words back.

She watched him soften, pulling her closer and cradling her face. "You won't. I promise. I'm strong enough to overpower Lucifer, I know I am; now more than ever." He saw her hesitancy. "I'm doing this for us too, Hope." He nodded, his eyes looking deep into hers. "For our future, so we can put this whole thing behind us…be happy…have a life together without the world ending every other day. Isn't that what you want?"

The idea of it sounded great, but Hope knew it wasn't that simple. Sam's judgement was clouded by his determination to get Dean back, and she knew that it didn't matter what she said or did…he would push forward. All she could do was stand at his side and pray that he was right.

…

Bonnie walked back into her room, wrapped in her robe. She had to admit, she did feel ten times better. It had been easy to fall into this endless spiral, but it wasn't healthy; she knew that and she would be a hypocrite to not follow the same advice she'd given to Damon or any other one of her friends she'd pulled from the same fate.

He pulled his gaze off the wall, glancing over her shoulder with a small grin. "Feel better?" he asked knowingly.

"Yes. Thank you." He had given her the push to get her back on track, and although he used her anger to do it…it worked. "So where are we going? Did your lead come through?" She asked towel drying her hair and padding softly to her dresser.

He winced, turning fully to look at her. "Not exactly. That lead went cold weeks ago."

"Then what is this about?"

"Less of a fact-finding mission, more of a fun finding mission."

"No." she answered immediately.

"What do you mean 'no'? You don't even know where we're going?" he exclaimed, eyes following her as she grabbed a change of clothes and moved behind the folding partition.

"I don't need to, Damon. How can you expect me to put all this aside and 'have fun', when lives are literally at stake?" she chastised popping her head out to glare at him incredulously.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing Ms. Cuddles from between her pillows and taking her spot, lounging back on the bed. "You said it yourself; Michael isn't coming back unless Sam says yes, and we've already established that's not happening so looks like your calendar is clear." When she didn't answer, he continued seriously. "You need a break, Bonnie. Just one day to clear your head; then we can come back at this with fresh eyes tomorrow." He winced, hoping it was enough break through to her.

She came out from behind the partition fully dressed with a hesitant look on her face. Bonnie didn't always agree with Damon's tactics, but she wasn't blind to the fact that worked at least half of the time. The alternative would be sitting here, reheating day-old pizza and vasmatosing herself in circles looking for answers she didn't even know the questions to. "Just one day?"

Her answer had Damon perking up and raising gracefully from her bed, Ms. Cuddles still in his arms. "One day. We promise." He moved the stuffed animal's arms playfully.

With a reluctant sigh, she rolled her eyes, giving into him. "Fine…one day. But I'm not letting you derail this into a crazy bender like last time." She stated, pointing a stern finger at him.

"Why? But that was so much fun! You have to admit, that was the best 'time-out' we've ever had." He grinned.

"It was, but it also took me 3-5 business days to recover." She nudged him. "And I'm not as young as I once was. One day. That's all you get."

"I'll take it." He raised Ms. Cuddle's arm in the air. "Scout's honor." He watched her shake her head as she left the room, but he didn't miss the indulgent smile that graced her face.

…

AN: Thanks for everyone's support with this story, I always look forward to your reviews, and I will do my best to reply to everyone that left comments/DM's. Love to hear what you think!

Vanessa