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Mia Copa! Character death warning. Well this is the last chapter, but don't worry we are planning the next story in our timeline.

Thanks for reading! Let us know what you think.

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Dean rolled his eyes as he heard his own voice speaking on the phone. "Did you find him yet?" The demon asked in a good imitation of Dean's angry but dealing tone.

"No son I haven't." John answered, looking over at Missouri; he nodded when she shook her head, eyes wide. "Are you okay? Tommy went a little funny on me during the drive. Had to send him home."

"Funny, huh?" The demon said. "Figures. So you can't find him after wasting all that time with your funny friend."

"Look son, I know you're mad at me... And I'm sorry Dean, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'll make sure you're both alright at the end of this. "

"Whatever Dad." Azazel said. "Where are you?"

"Still driving." John lied. "Had to take some time working on the car… Tommy drove us into a ditch, took me forever to get her out."

"Son of a bitch." Azazel said. "How much time did that cost you?"

John closed his eyes. He had given weight to Missouri 's silent warning, but hadn't wanted to believe it. But Dean's lack of interest in the car just proved it. "Not as long as they wanted. I sent his hitchhiker back to hell, but Tommy's in the hospital. Look, I need both hands right now. I'll call you when I know where he is. Promise me you won't do anything stupid?" He said continuing the charade.

Dean's voice gave a growling sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm not going to do anything stupid." He said.

"Alright son. I'll see you soon." John said and hung up, all but throwing the cell phone across the room.

Azazel tossed the cell phone down on the seat next to him. "Son of a bitch knows, doesn't he?"

"You know… normally I really like the way that phrase rolls off my tongue. Son of a bitch… Son of a bitch." Dean repeated in several different inflections. "But man, you just can't deliver it. How did you ever survive this long if you can't even pretend to be me? Huh? Come on the guy's memory is Swiss cheese, he barely remembers his own name, much less what I sound like when I am pissed. And you should have been a lot more pissed off. So there is a chance that he hasn't figured out he left me as a snack treat to whatever came along… like I said … Swiss cheese and all… you coulda whined like a girl and it's possible he would have thought he got me and Sam mixed up in his head… but I wouldn't count on it." Dean didn't want Azazel anywhere near his father. "You wanna be me, you gotta work on the delivery. You may be a big bad demon where you come from but man… you walk and talk like a little bitch. And that's painful to see from the inside. It's like junior high all over again."

"Shut. Up." Azazel growled. Calling HIM a little bitch? Once he was done with this body, he was going to take great pleasure in tearing Dean Winchester apart for the migraines he'd induced. He pulled onto the freeway, heading straight for New Orleans . He was able to scrimp on the sleep, he didn't need rest, so he was making better time than John. Of that he was sure. "I cannot wait for the moment when you can't talk anymore."

"I think you're starting to like me. I really do. You like me. We're buds. Spiritual brothers on the same quest." Dean mocked. "You're going to miss me when I kick your demonic ass out of my perfect body."

"If you could, you would have by now. " Azazel said in a derisive tone. "Even your threats are becoming a bore."

"You sure about that?" Dean asked. "Not like I'm exactly trapped in the back of my own mind twiddling my non existent thumbs here. But you see, I need you to get to Sammy as much as you need me to cover your ass, albeit literally, when your girlfriend starts to smack you around. If you were smart, you'd listen to me. I have a few ideas that just might turn things around for ya… get my brother back in as few pieces as possible." Dean had cheated death often enough that he wasn't scared of it any more, hell possession wasn't exactly scaring him at the moment. He knew this was the end of the line for him. No way there was going to be a 13th hour rescue this time. The mission was the only thing that mattered right now, and that mission was to save Sammy.

"I'm listening." Azazel said reluctantly as Dean gave him a few ideas. "And then I wait for your father to come exorcise us both?" He asked mockingly.

"Are you saying you're afraid of my father?" Dean teased with a smirk. "Either you're afraid of him or you're not. I guess I'm calling that hand right now. Besides, he won't get there in time, he's still driving. He should have been there by now."

"Unless he lied."

"You a betting demon or not?"

"" "" "" "" ""

Missouri sighed as she handed John the cup of coffee. "Why don't you lay down while you're waiting for something to go on?"

"Because if I lay down I'm not looking for things to go on?" He said as he turned on the news. "These things don't just fall in our laps all the time. Neither you nor Sam can control your visions. Ash is doing all he can but I don't know that it's going to be fast enough." He stared at the television with sad, dark eyes. The city was in chaos. Just what it needed after everything that had happened with Katrina. There was so much destruction, so many lives lost, a city consumed with loss and devastation, hope so hard to come by for so many people. It was hard to pin point what part of town would be the key for this monster that had taken his son.

"You have two exorcisms to perform… men have died during one… with far less powerful demons. You could be on your feet for days doing this. Those boys aren't going to die or be lost forever if you close your eyes for a few minutes."

"Not willing to take that chance." He said as he sipped his coffee and rubbed at his eyes. He needed the caffeine, so though it burned his throat, he started chugging it. As Missouri watched.

She was prepared, slipping the pillow under his head as he passed out. Bella Donna. Worked every time. A nice small amount, tasteless, and sedating. She just didn't expect him to drink it so fast as she stretched out in the other bed, setting the alarm for four hours. That should be enough, she hoped.

"" "" "" "" ""

Sam was ignoring everything. Not looking out the windows. The screams were making their way through into his room, and that was enough as he picked up a medical book of Jessica's. Equally as dry as his law books. Biting his lip as he kept everything under control, under wraps. Not giving anything to Tamiel.

He'd been to New Orleans once, pre-Katrina. He preferred to remember it that way. Not after Katrina, and certainly not after what Tamiel was doing. The city was feeding him. He was growing stronger, and Sam couldn't stop him. He just prayed that this would end soon, one way or another.

"He's almost here." Tamiel said, knowing that Sam heard every word no matter how he tried to pretend otherwise. "Just a few short hours and those screams you hear will be Dean's. I know… you think I need him in one piece but you saw what I was able to do with your father, I could easily do the same with your brother. Again… and again… and again. Just so that he can die seeing your face, hearing your voice. That should break him down almost as easily as the final ritual, make him malleable, easy to control in there. And then I will let you die as I take him over. The last thing you will see is me in your brother's eyes. It's quite poetic really."

"If you think my brother is that easy to kill, you're a fool." Sam said, turning the page. "If he was, he wouldn't be on your radar. And if he was, he would have been dead long before he was old enough to legally drink." Fallen certainly had ego problems, didn't they? If they were such weak meat sacks, the Winchester men wouldn't be such big problems, and they wouldn't keep bothering them, right?

"We'll see." Tamiel said as he stopped what he was doing. "Time's up. Let the games begin."

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"There ya go, now you're thinking." Dean said as they watched another of the 'Kids Like Sam' draw the devil's trap on the ceiling. "Get him in there and it's much easier to get him to let go of my brother. I could tell you a few choice words to piss him off but I really can't imagine them coming out of your mouth… well… my mouth really." He said with a chuckle.

"I have someone else coming in to deliver that particular speech, while we take a little walk." The Demon said feeling uncomfortable just watching the seal being drawn above their heads. "In fact I think we are going to take that little walk now. See if we can't find our brothers and get them pointed in the right direction."

"Let's get this show on the road then." Dean said, and began to fidget. He started to whistle in anticipation, drumming out the beat of 'Highway to Hell'. He was anxious to get this over and done with, get Sammy back to their father where he would be safe.

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John woke up with a groan, then a start. Missouri was coming back into the room with food and more coffee. "What the hell did you do to me?" He demanded.

"I drugged you." Missouri said calmly. "Eat. It's almost time." She said.

"Time for what?" John said.

"Didn't you ever read your Bible, John? I mean really read it?" Missouri said, shaking her head as she got her things together. "Just know that it's time. Let's go. We're better off in the same car." She said, ready to ride shot gun in the Impala.

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"This is Pierce Gooden with CNN, reporting outside New Orleans , Louisiana . The governor has called the National Guard in to control the chaos within the city." A man said with a microphone as he looked into a camera. "Looting has been going on for three days, lynch mobs are forming, and as you can see behind me, a recently opened textile factory has been ransacked, causing red dye to leak into the Mississippi River delta. All sanitation has ceased, as the sewer pumps have stopped functioning. The CDC is on alert for various illnesses that can be caused by the sewage spilling into the streets. From the few reports we've gotten from people who have managed to escape the carnage within the city limits, it is indeed as if Armageddon has arrived."

He was far enough away to be safe, but the cameras were still able to capture the fires burning through out the city as the National Guard prepared to march in.

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Dean walked through the streets of New Orleans , ignoring the destruction around him, stepping over anything that tried to get in his way. Going as far to kick men out of the way, send them sprawling with unseen power.

"Dude, calm down." Dean said. "Believe me, he'll show."

"They were in my way." Azazel said flatly. "Now is not the time to think I am your friend. Your job is to sit back and shut up and let me claim Samuel."

Like hell, Dean thought. But he was quiet as he watched Sam approach. Cresting over wreckage. And knew just from the posture that this wasn't really his brother.

"Sammy!" Azazel said. "About time you showed up."

Tamiel stepped forward, batting away a locust. "No… not Sammy. Sammy is hiding in his room, probably under his bed like a good little boy. I'm betting your trip here hasn't been nearly so peaceful."

Azazel growled and Dean perked up at the sight of Sam in one piece, the only obvious wounds appeared to be the ones on his hands. He should be able to survive the demon leaving him. "Just remember… don't really kick his ass, cause you don't want to lose Sam after all this work." He couldn't believe he had just said that. But if that was what it took to get him unpossessed it was worth it.

"" "" "" "" ""

Ellen watched CNN and felt her heart sink into her stomach. The fate of the world rested in the hands of John Winchester. "We're doomed." She said shaking her head, as she watched the insects swarming New Orleans . The press was saying it was a result of the sewage, and the dead fish in the river were a result of the dye, but she knew. She knew…. If this wasn't stopped… if they didn't get those boys free and fast… this was the end of the world.

She picked up the phone and called her daughter's cell phone. "Jo, I need you to come home" She sighed. "Please… just come home now." She hung up knowing that her daughter would do as told. Or at least hoping she would

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John frowned. "So where are we going?" He asked Missouri , as he drove. It was going to be a hell of a drive where ever it was they were going to, and not for the first time he was relieved that he was surrounded by a ton of Detroit steel, and not some little bit of fiberglass.

"We're going into the heart of the storm." Missouri said with her eyes closed. John frowned as he fiddled with the radio. According to the news, what he was able to get between static pulses, all around the world the weather was calm. Too calm.

"You know where they are." John said, catching the metaphor. Missouri nodded.

"But that's not where we're going. You'd be proud of Dean. Now take a left."

"I've always been proud of my sons." He said as he steered the Impala, rolling up the window as bugs started to slam and ricochet off his windshield.

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Azazel slammed Tamiel back, and Dean winced. "Sorry, Sammy." He said, though he knew his brother couldn't hear him.

"That boy is mine!" Azazel roared. "I have plans."

"You and your plans." Tamiel sneered, wiping blood off Sam's mouth. "You always have plans."

"Are you two going to have a bitch fight like two seventh grade girls now?" Dean said with a sigh.

"Shut up." Azazel said to Dean and turned his attention back to Tamiel. "Give him to me." Eyes glowing golden and yellow, able to be seen in the darkness of New Orleans as a red moon passed across the sun.

"He's not important to me." Tamiel said. "That body is. And I will resurrect it as many times as it takes for it to belong to me." And the next thing Dean knew he was staring at a starless sky, flat on his back.

"Dude...the hair." Dean said. "I've still got stitches you know."

Azazel rose to his feet, or more appropriately Deans feet. "The body can die a thousand times over…doesn't mean I have to go anywhere." He started slowly maneuvering the fight, directing them toward the chosen location. He didn't care if Dean's body took the brunt of the fight. Didn't care if Tamiel thought him weak in those moments, because in the end it was going to be 'The Plan' that won this fight. "You let your emotions rule you. Just like these damned hairless monkeys."

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed at the insult.

"You hit like a girl." Tamiel said in a good imitation of Sam. "What's the matter, afraid your son here won't make it? Oh that's right, resurrection isn't your thing… death is. Hmmm…give up the plan… or… give up the plan… I think the boy was right earlier. You're screwed, I think was how he put it. "

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John drove like a mad man, cursing and wincing at the innocents he had to drive through and away from. But there was no time to stop and help the individuals now. They would all be dead soon enough if he didn't stop the battle raging… stop his sons.

"Park over there." She told him. "It's better if we walk the rest of the way in. Be careful, John. Those boys aren't the only ones in this fight." She knew that there were minions waiting , and that there was a great deal more to do once... "If we get this right… your boys are gonna be alright." She told him. "But right now that's a pretty big if. "

John parked the car and he and Missouri got out. He was armed, of course. Even humans in times like these were dangerous. Sure it was loaded with rock salt, but it will still hurt like a son of a bitch if shot in the chest. He followed Missouri to an abandoned warehouse, still bearing the ravages of the hurricane and stuck to the walls.

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"That body can't hold you." Azazel said, as fire started to rain down on the city of New Orleans . People ran screaming, avoiding it as best they could. As two young men stood in the street, both on their feet for the time being, facing off.

"It will hold me long enough." Tamiel said, eyes burning like emeralds on fire as he started toward his brother. Brothers in brothers' bodies. How poetic was this? The symmetry was nearly too much to keep from laughing about.

Sam couldn't help it now. He had to watch. His brother...no, not his brother...coming toward him. With all intents to hurt him in some way. And he marched on toward him, fully ready to kill him. And bring him back for torture.

The wind kicked up, the only place in the world to have wind. Even the seas were calm as the delta rose with its red water, threatening to flood the city once again.

Azazel scowled. His brother was powerful here. More powerful than he had thought possible, and he was very much glad that Tamiel wasn't inhabiting Dean Winchester. A trade wouldn't have been possible, even if there weren't a better plan in the works. Azazel wasn't going to tolerate the competition. He reached out and grabbed Sam's shoulders tossing him in the direction of the warehouse. Resurrection might not be his forte, but he knew those who could. He had children that could heal… it wouldn't be difficult to repair the damage done to Samuel.

" " " " "

John slipped into the warehouse, cautiously, keeping an eye out for trouble, waiting for the followers of Azazel to attack. But they didn't, they were focused on hiding as much as he was. Something was about to happen and they didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. He took in his surroundings and happened to look up at the bottom of a platform in the center of the room and he smiled. "That's my boy… I don't know how… but damn." He said heaving a sigh of relief. That was actually going to make this possible. He started to feel there was hope now.

Missouri looked up at the devil's trap and nodded. Circling the room, staying close to the shadows. Laying down crystals of various sizes and colors at different points. It wouldn't hold Azazel for long, but if John worked fast, it would hold him long enough for John to get into the full throes of an exorcism.

The one Ash found. Different on some points than the Rituale Romanum. And just as dangerous to the exorcist as the exorcised.

" " " " "

Dean groaned as his brother retaliated. Throwing him against a building hard enough for the brick, which had withstood hurricanes and flooding, to crack around him. Feeling his own bones break, even if pain was intangible while he was stuck in his own mind.

Pain Azazel didn't feel either, shrugging off the damage and lifting Sam high into the air and twisting him around like a sock puppet.

"Give him to me." He growled.

"Never." Tamiel said back. "This body will die before it's yours."

"You know," Sam said. "for someone who doesn't like humanity much, you sure are doing it a big favor."

"I'm not doing humanity a favor. That's an unfortunate byproduct of my own plan." Tamiel said as he slammed into the ground, the apartment around Sam rocking with the impact.

Azazel struck again, sending Sam through the metal docking doors of the warehouse, and skidding across the floor.

"Easy there." Dean said. "Let's not break Sam into too many pieces. You still need him, remember?"

"Shut up." Azazel thought at Dean. He growled as Tamiel started to rise to his feet, and lashed out again sending him those last few feet into the circle, and the demon groaned with the pain of it. "I said shut up." Azazel growled. Only to be rewarded with a reverberating "CHRISTO" shouted from within his head.

"And I said leave him alone!" Dean then growled in return, feeling the demon shudder at the name of the Lord.

Sam laughed inside his room as he stared out the now busted windows of his sanctuary. He was looking up at the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time. He was looking up at a devil's trap.

"No!" Tamiel screamed. Locked in place. It couldn't be ending, not now! He was defenseless here...

But he remembered it wasn't like Azazel was going to exorcise him. After all, the things referenced were just as abhorrent to him as it was to Tamiel.

John looked on from a shadow, in horror, at his sons. Possessed, one with yellow eyes, one with green eyes. Both beaten within an inch of their mortal lives, Dean barely standing. Though it was probably just the demon that kept him on his feet. Even Dean had his limits.

"Now, John. You have to do it now." Missouri said, starting to sprinkle herself and him with holy water.

"Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei Dean Winchester and Samuel Winchester, quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum suum vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum Dei vivi, et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo. Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos, et saeculum per ignem." John started shouting over howling he couldn't find a source for. Voice as strong and strident as he could make it as he held the tattered book in his hands, stepping out of the shadows. He counted on the cipher on his back to stop any physical harm from coming to him. Everything else was fair game though.

His Latin was coming back to him as he prayed for the release of his sons. Looking from one to the other, going as fast as he could.

"No!" Azazel yelled, enraged as he found he too was trapped. He should have known Winchester had lied. The man was slippery as an eel and lied better than most demons he knew.

"Help him." Dean said firmly, as though he actually had a chance at forcing the demon to comply.

"When Hell freezes over. " Azazel growled.

"You hold him down, or this goes all kinds of wrong." Dean said. "And I'm already touching you, remember. I know the ritual by heart so unless you want to be exorcised from the inside out, you fucking hold him down."

Dean's voice joined with the howling as the enraged Azazel lashed out at Tamiel once more, pinning Sam's body to the floor.

John took advantage of the situation stepping with in the circle. He should be safe from anything Tamiel could do. He knelt beside his youngest son's body and touched first his right ear, and then the left. "Ephpheta, quod est, Adaperire." He said firmly.

"Get off of me." Tamiel growled with Sam's voice. "I will tear his body asunder if you utter so much as another word."

"Don't listen, Dad, don't listen. Do this, you can do this… god you can do this." Sam said from within.

He then touched his son's nostrils. "In odorem suavitatis. Tu autem effugare, diabole; appropinquabit enim judicium Dei." He knew he had to ignore all that was being said by the demon. He had to rely upon the hope that his son was still in there. That his soul was still able to hear and see. "Samuel Winchester, Abrenuntias satanae?"

"Yes!" Sam shouted as he stared out through the windows at his father's face.

"He can't hear you." Tamiel said, struggling against Azazel's strength.

"He doesn't need to hear me." Sam said. "All that needs to happen is my soul, that's me, answers."

"Hold him down!" Dean was shouting. "Hold him still!" He said as Azazel recoiled from holy water touching his skin as John worked and spoke as fast as he could.

John noticed the sizzle on his oldest boy's hand, and all he could think was 'get used to it you son of a bitch. It'll be your turn soon enough.' The son of a bitch being Azazel of course.

The boys had demons in them, and all the resilence that came with it. While John was just a mortal man going on pure determination at this point. Pure stubbornness to not lose his sons, not this way. Not to THEM. Never to them. Not his boys. He continued the ritual, voice cracking with exhaustion, falling to his knees beside Sam. He kept going. Because he didn't have a choice.

"That's it." Dean said. "You've got the son of a bitch now." He nodded and waited for his own opportunity. Once Sam was free, he'd start it in his head, and hope that his father hadn't forgotten about him trapped within a demon.

Missouri gave John sips of water as he needed it, giving him all the support she could as he repeated the ritual as often as he had to before Sam's body arched off the floor his voice a ragged scream as Tamiel burst forth the black cloud striking the seal above and dissipated into nothingness.

"Yeah!" Dean screamed out in his mind.

Sam coughed raggedly and curled up into the fetal position as the pain hit him all at once. He moaned lowly and Missouri came and knelt beside him giving him something to drink. "Dean." He said looking toward his brother, standing there with baleful yellow eyes.

"I'll take care of Dean." John said as he stroked his son's hair, and eased back onto his heels taking a deep breath, then another.

Azazel laughed. "Well thank you John, for freeing my boy." He taunted. "I think I'll hang onto this one a little while longer though. Not like he'd survive If I vacated the premises."

"Don't you listen to him, Dad." Dean said. "And you shut the fuck up!"

"I'm not so sure you could survive another exorcism yourself. So let's just call it a day."

John didn't know how much time had passed. A second, days. He didn't know. He just knew he wanted to curl up and sleep for a lifetime. But his eyes were full of dark fury as he turned them on his yellow eyed son.

"I don't care." He said, his voice all but gone. He was pale, sweating, and could barely sit. But he wasn't living in Dean anymore. Even if what the demon said was true...if Dean wouldn't survive without the demon...Dean would rather not survive.

And if the demon was lying, he couldn't remain in Dean. Because that would be the end of Dean. And that John couldn't allow as he threw holy water on the demon, seeing it burn his son's bruised and broken skin, and started the ritual all over again as Missouri kept Sam clear.

Dean sighed and closed his own eyes. He just needed a few seconds in control as he started chanting in time with his father. His voice stronger than John's as it reverberated in his own head. Feeling the demon shudder and fall with each word.

The ritual on Sam had weakened Azazel, though it wasn't meant for him. Weakened him to be in such close proximity to such a holy ritual, seeing as he was a damned being.

He kept throwing himself against the walls of his mind as the ritual continued. As he watched his father tire, and gasp between prayers. Until he was finally through.

"Stop!" Dean shouted, with his own voice, his own hazel eyes. No longer yellow as he grabbed his father's arm. "Stop! Let me go. Just let...me go." He said. Not meaning 'let him go on possessed,' but to kill him. End it now while the body and the demon were weak. "Dad...please...it's killing you. Let. Me. Go."

John shook his head, taking in a ragged breath as he did so. "Never." He told his son, reaching out to touch his face. "Haven't you figured that out yet? I can't let you go. I won't." He leaned in and kissed his son's brow, something he hadn't done since he had been a boy. And with tears in his eyes, he drew the cross in holy water on his brow. It hurt to move, to breath, to speak. Something had ruptured in the car crash, and Sam's exorcism had taken so much out of him, that he was beginning to think that the demon was right. That he wasn't going to make it through the exorcism. That didn't matter, though. He had to try. "Say it with me, son. We'll do this together, and no matter what happens you keep saying it until you are free. "

Dean blinked back tears as he started reciting with his father. Aloud and in his head, until it was just in his head.

"The body is broken." Azazel said. "You remove me, you kill your son. You can die with your son. Go ahead, leaves Sam defenseless for me as he recuperates from what you did to him. You're helping me. Go on, continue."

"Dammit, just shut up!" Dean screamed at the demon as his father paused for breath. He was about to lose his father for a second time. And he could either have it all be in vain or help kick this sorry mother back to hell.

Missouri squeezed John's shoulder as John ignored the demon and kept on. Ignoring the cries of pain from Dean, the pain in himself, the weak moans from Sam. All that mattered was the ritual; it was the only thing he was concentrating on. That and breathing. Breathing was good, but it was so hard. Breathing and chanting in Latin even as the room filled with a brilliant white light. Ignoring the light, staying right where he was, clutching his son's hand as he continued.

Seeing that inhuman arch of the back as Dean screamed, the light blotted out a bit by black smoke, inky and thick as it slammed into the devil's trap.

John let out a ragged sigh, smiling as he squeezed his son's hand, lying down beside him on the floor, too tired to hold himself up. Everything was so fuzzy now. He just wanted to sleep… just… sleep. "We did it…" He said to his son. "You don't have to do this anymore… it's over now." He said as he closed his eyes. "We did it, Mary." He muttered, feeling his last remaining energy fading away.

Sam cried out in pain as he struggled to get closer to his brother and father. "Dad, no." He said. "Don't you dare leave us again."

"Sammy...?" Dean said, barely conscious as he still held onto his father's hand. "Sammy? Dad...?"

Missouri wiped her eyes as she looked out a warehouse window to see a light rain, a rejuvenating rain, starting to fall. As the crowds calmed down and the national guard stood down. "You did it, John." She said and looked at the three Winchester men lying on the floor beneath the devil's trap. "John?"

Dean didn't bother to blink back the tears, just let them fall down his face as he laid there, squeezing his father's hand, who wasn't squeezing back. He was beyond pain, falling into numb. And wondered how far he could fall until there was nothing left, as he closed his eyes.

"You poor boys." Missouri said as she tried for cell reception. Hoping to get an ambulance or something here. Just hoping.

"It's done…" Sam said as he lay his head over his father's fallen form, struggling to stay conscious, afraid that if he closed his eyes again they would be gone when he opened them. The coldness of the concrete was settling in, and he was having such a hard time moving anyway. Massive shoulders shuddered with sobs in spite of the pain that each hitching breath brought him. He had held his emotions so tightly in check for so long that he couldn't control them any more. Then he simply sighed and slid into the blackness.

Missouri turned to face them as she felt the light surrounding them, warmth, and not merely of a physical nature filled the warehouse and she took two steps back without realizing what she was doing. The figure walking toward them was familiar. She had seen it before and couldn't believe she was seeing it again. She had thought that spirit destroyed more than a year ago.

Mary Winchester knelt down beside her men… her husband and sons, touching her boys lightly before resting her hand upon John and saying his name as though rousing him from sleep.

"Mary?" John said, opening his eyes. The years of torment and loneliness wiped from his face with that one action. Gray gone from his hair, lines life had etched in his face erased.

Mary smiled as she touched his face. "Welcome home, John." Finally. The torment was over. But John looked over toward Sam and Dean, the bruises still so vivid. Dean turned his head and opened his eyes.

"Mom." He said, more of a gasp than a word. He knew his mother was dead. But here she was, far from the site of her murder. And her smile was more beautiful than his childhood memories, encompassing all the peace he had ever sought in it.

"Dean." She said and with her free hand reached for Sam. "Oh my boys. So much has happened. Sam, wake up. It's time to say good bye." They'd all earned at least that much.

"Good bye?" Sam asked as he looked at her. "Aren't we going with you?" He wanted to. Wanted to be done with this place and the constant fight to survive. He was tired and he hurt so much. Physically, emotionally, spiritually he hurt so very much.

"No, baby, it's not your time yet. Not either of you." Mary said looking over toward Dean then. "You have so much ahead of you… wonderful things, horrible things… so much left to do. But we'll be here when it's time. Your father and I."

Dean didn't want to leave this warm, encompassing light. Knowing right now that pain awaited him. Pain from his body, pain from his father's loss (again). He wanted to stay with his family, his entire family. Something that hadn't happened since he was four years old.

But John nodded. "You boys did good." He said. "Guess I did something right along the way." His boys, his and Mary's boys, they were strong. They'd held onto their souls against two fallen angels.

"But..." Sam said. "We just got you back."

"I know." John said sadly. "I didn't want it to happen this way, but it's time to move on. And this isn't easy, but you'll be fine. Take care of your brother, Sam." Knowing Azazel hadn't been as careful with Dean's body as he should have been.

Mary smiled again as she stood, helping John stand as well. "You'll know when it's time. But now is not the time." The hereafter wasn't bound by things like linear time. And she saw grandchildren yet to even be conceived. "Now go. Walk that way." Away from the light, away from the warmth. Away from their parents, back to the struggles, and the fights, and the never ending jobs. "Go live."

" " " " "

Sam was cold. The last thing he remembered was warmth, and family, and now he was cold, and he hurt. Everything hurt. "Dean." He managed to get out , hands grasping at the tubes and wires and rail of the bed. "Dean!" He called out again, his voice raw, his throat dry beyond belief. The light he was bathed in now wasn't warm and it hurt his eyes.

"Now you just hush up." Missouri said. "Your brother is right over there..." gesturing to the bed next to Sam's, where Dean did indeed lay in traction. "They had to sedate that boy after he tried to get out of traction if they didn't bring you in here. Caused a big fuss, he did."

"Did...not..." Dean muttered. "She's...lying...I've been an angel." Which got a snort from Missouri in reply.

"You boys are done tore up. And I promised your daddy that I'd watch out for you until you were healed." Missouri said. The paramedics, when they finally arrived, gave her their medical opinion that it was a miracle that they were alive.

"Dad?" Sam said.

"He's been taken care of." Missouri said. "The hunters came by, and they salted and burned him, and I buried the ashes next to your mother."

Sam nodded and swallowed hard, that was hard to take again, but he was with their mother now. He wasn't in pain. "How long have I been out?" He asked as he looked for a water pitcher. His throat was so dry.

Missouri helped him take a drink. "About a week." She said. "Although to be fair that was partly the doctors doing since you were in so much pain." She had to agree that it was a miracle the boys were still alive, and she suspected it had something to do with their mother.

"Traction, huh? Wow. Guess you are gonna get that vacation after all." Sam said, knowing that was a good 6 months in a hospital bed.

"Shaddup." Dean said. "I'm out of here in a few weeks..." Even if he had to cut himself down. His mother was right. There was work to do. "But..." he said, and figured he might as well say what no one else would, "at least we know for sure, this time, Dad's right where he's always wanted to be."

"Yeah." Sam said with a nod. Feeling his loss keenly. But there was hope in there too, and joy for their father. He looked over at his brother. "So, Dean...you still think there's no such thing as miracles?"

Fini