So, last chappy in this story...i will begin posting the second the second story in the series called The Weak and the Weary in the next few days. thanks to all for reading, hope everyone enjoyed.

Chapter Fourteen

"Why do you need my amulet so desperately?" Dean asked, taking several backward steps further into the room, holding Joshua more closely to him. For some reason, he understood that he had to give it willingly to Rowan, otherwise Rowan would have already have tried to take it from him. To test his theory, he asked, "Want it so badly, why don't you just try and take it from me?"

"Can't do that, Dean," Rowan replied, and with a wave of his hand he dismissed the other vampires. Reluctantly, all but Abigail and Monica left. "But I think you already know that, don't you?"

"Not giving it to you," Dean said as he set Joshua down and moved to stand in front of him.

Abigail and Monica slipped past Rowan and eased into the room. Monica ran her tongue along her fanged teeth as she eyed Dean hungrily.

"Can he be mine, Shade," Monica asked as she turned to Rowan, "he looks absolutely luscious." She tilted her head to the side as she looked Dean up and down. "Could turn him and then he'll be no more trouble to you an' I can keep him."

"Why do you get to keep him," Abigail pouted, "I saw him first. If anyone gets to keep him, it'll be me. Bet he can do all kinds of kinky things."

"How about no," Rowan firmly stated, "no one is turning him, an' he's not a sex toy for either of you."

"So totally a sex toy," Dean gave a cocky grin, "but so beside the point. Either of you fanged bitches tries to turn me or Joshua, an' your freakin' heads will hit the floor before you can even open your mouths."

"Careful, Dean, think you're sorely outnumbered," Rowan warned.

"Never was one to worry about the odds," Dean countered, brandishing his knife.

"You'll never make it out of here alive," Rowan said taking a step toward Dean, and motioning for the girls to circle around him. "Just give me the amulet and I'll let you and Joshua go."

Dean backed up, his free hand reaching around in a protective gesture to Joshua. "Pretty sure I will."

"You're willing to risk Joshua's life when you're only pretty sure?" Rowan moved further into the room, cornering Dean and Joshua, a large gilded floor mirror preventing them from moving back any further. "How about if I even out the odds for you." Rowan motioned to the two vampires closing in on Dean, and with a single nod of his head, they backed away and left the room. "If you can kill me, Dean, I can promise you, you'll never have any more problems with vampires." Rowan smirked, raising his arms out to the sides. "Notice how I don't look worried?"

The vampire's words and actions gave Dean pause to wonder what his motives might be. It almost seemed as if he wanted Dean to kill him, was bating him to do it. "You want me to kill you, don't you?"

"I'm begging you to kill me, Dean. Been waiting a long time to die."

In one quick fluid movement, Dean lunged at Rowan, knife raised to slice through the vampire's neck, but Rowan caught hold of his wrist, and with little effort forced Dean to his knees. With his other hand, he ripped the knife from Dean's hand and cast it aside. Dean's attention was momentarily diverted to where his weapon had slid under the bed, and it was all it took for Rowan to slam a powerful fist into Dean's jaw. His head snapped back with the force of the blow. White sparks danced before his eyes as another fist connected with his right cheek.

"Said I wanted to die, didn't say I would make it easy for you," Rowan chuckled as he hauled Dean to his feet, and bashed his fist into Dean's stomach. Dean flew backwards, and Joshua just managed to move out of the way as Dean rammed into the mirror. The mirror teetered for a moment then crashed to the floor, large shards of glass scattering across the floor.

Righting himself, Dean eyed Rowan as he thought how he was going to get to his knife from beneath the bed without getting himself killed in the process. "Jay, my knife," he ordered, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joshua scurrying to get it.

Rowan and Dean circled, glass crunching beneath their feet. Catching Rowan's arm as he threw another punch, Dean twisted the vampire's hand behind him, and kicked him squarely in the back. Rowan flew forward, caught himself and swung back to face Dean.

"Can't find it, Chipmunk," Joshua called out to Dean.

"Keep looking." Dean shouted as Rowan charged at him.

Crashing into Dean, they both went falling to the ground. Glass dug into Dean's back as he tried to wrestle the vampire off of him. He grabbed Rowan by the throat, choking him as he pushed him off. Dean rolled and leapt on top of Rowan, slamming his fist into the vampire's face. Snatching a large jagged shard of glass off the floor, Dean rammed the pointed end into Rowan's throat.

Rowan let out a deep gasp, blood gurgling on his lips as Dean continued to sever through his neck. In a desperate but ineffectual effort to fight off Dean, Rowan weakly clawed at him, his arms flailing. Blood covered Dean's hands as it spilled from the gaping wound in Rowan's throat to cover the dark blue carpeting.

"Chipmunk — "

"Move, Jay," Dean commanded, hearing the little boy beside him. "An' don't look."

Rowan's head lolled grotesquely to the side, his hands falling loosely to the side as Dean cut through the last of bit of flesh, severing his head clean from his body. With one last glance at Rowan, Dean got to his feet, and looked for Joshua. He found Joshua crouched in the corner, arms wrapped around his knee with his head resting on them. The little boy held Dean's knife loosely in his hand, his fingers trembling. Dean could hear the soft sound of the boy crying, and wiping his bloodied hands on his pants, he gathered Joshua into his arms.

"Didn't mean for you to see that, Jay," he said as he took the knife from Joshua.

"He gone to Heaven with all the angels, Chipmunk?" Joshua looked up into Dean's eyes, his own brimming with tears.

Dean glanced back at Rowan, then looked once more to Joshua. "Not sure where he's gone to. Don't think Heaven though."

Slowly, Dean made his way to the door with Joshua, and then through the manor, expecting to encounter more vampires, but found none. The house was eerily quiet, never a good sign as far as Dean was concerned. At the front door, he turned and looked around again, puzzled that no one had tried to stop them from leaving. He'd dealt with vampires in the past and if one of them had died the rest became all the more vicious in their attacks, yet it was as if the house was completely empty. Dean then recalled Rowan saying that if he died, they would no longer need to worry about vampires, and momentarily wondered if that was true before shaking it off as a foolish notion.

Outside, Dean hurried to the car, placed Joshua in the passenger's seat, got in, and drove away before whatever vampires were left in the house came looking for them. Checking his rearview mirror several times, he was surprised to find that no one followed them, and breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the motel. With one last look around, Dean opened the door and slid out of the car with Joshua right behind him. Both exhausted and relieved that their encounter with Rowan was finally over, they headed inside Dean's motel room for the night.

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Dean woke up early the next morning, and quickly packed his meager possessions. He then woke Joshua up, wanting to leave as soon as possible just in case Rowan's girls came looking for them.

Joshua rubbed his tired eyes, and yawned deeply as he sat up in bed.

"Still dark out, wanna go back to sleep," Joshua said in a slightly whiny voice.

"Get dressed, Jay, you can sleep in the car." Dean handed him some clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and motioned toward the bathroom. "Wanna be out of here in no more than fifteen minutes so hurry up."

Joshua grumbled as he got out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Within ten minutes he reemerged from the small bathroom, and handed Dean a bundle of dirty clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste.

"You brushed your teeth, right?" Dean asked.

"Too tired, I'll do it later," Joshua complained.

"You'll do it now," Dean ordered as he handed the tooth bush and paste back to him. "Not gonna have Michael say your teeth all rotted out your mouth cause of me. Now go." he pointed back to the bathroom, and Joshua reluctantly complied.

A few minutes later, Joshua came back out, and showed Dean his teeth. "All clean, Chipmunk."

"Good, now let's get outta here."

Together they headed for the door, and as they stepped outside, Dean stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open as he stared in disbelief at the man leaning against the hood of his Chevelle with arms crossed.

"Mornin', Dean," Rowan greeted him with a smirk. "Thought you might be an early riser."

"You can't be real, I killed you last night," Dean uttered, stepping in front of Joshua protectively. "Saw you die."

"Naw, you just thought you did," Rowan pushed away from the car and strode over to Dean. "Forgot to mention that I can't die, Dean. Not now . . . not ever." Rowan narrowed his green-eyed gaze on Dean for a moment, and then frowned. "Lucifer himself can not kill me, although he's tried more times than you can possibly imagine. But everyday, I wake up as if nothing ever happened. I'm gonna live forever . . . cursed to witness what I have done to humanity."

"Not possible . . . even demons can die."

"Not even the Colt can kill me, Dean. If it could, I wouldn't be here right now." Rowan drew in a deep breath and slowly released it as he looked beyond Dean to Joshua and then back again.

"Don't believe you," Dean said, recalling how the Colt had killed Azazel who was definitely more powerful than Rowan appeared to be. "Seen what the Colt can do."

"Seriously, you actually think one day some random 'hunter'," Rowan made a hanging quotes gesture with his fingers, "just showed up outside Samuel Colt's door with instructions how to create a magical demon killing gun? Hell, if it were that easy, don't you think all hunters would be carrying one of Colt's mystical magical guns around with them?" Here he paused to allow the words he'd just spoken to sink in fully before asking, "Why only one gun, Dean? Why only twelve bullets? Twelve . . . almost biblical if you think hard enough about it. Twelve bullets, twelve disciples. Only then there would really be thirteen if you included Jesus . . . or thirteen if you needed one to test that gun to see if it worked." Rowan yanked down the collar of his shirt to expose a bullet wound scar right over his heart. "See, Dean, there was only one gun because Samuel Colt didn't believe it worked. One gun because he shot me point blank in the chest and nothing happened. Course I knew it worked so I took the gun and disappeared, an' he never heard of me again."

He lifted back his raven-colored bangs, and gestured to another bullet scar at the side of his right temple. "But, I just couldn't let it go without trying one more time. Sort of like Judas, I thought maybe the first bullet had just betrayed me, and the second one would be true . . . but as you can see, no such luck. Used five more bullets to kill demons, thought there might be some sort of redemption in it for me, but found some things just can not be forgiven, no matter how much we may wish them to be."

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion, but as he looked at the pained expression on Rowan's face, an understanding dawned on him. "You really want to die, don't you?"

A short wry laugh escape Rowan's lips. "There are worse things than dying, Dean. Sometimes living is the real torture, just ask your brother. Think he would agree with me."

"Leave my brother out of this."

"Afraid I can't do that. Well, not unless you want to give me that amulet."

"Go near Sammy, an' I swear to God, I'll kill you as many times as it takes to make sure you're in hell where you belong."

"Not your enemy, Dean," Rowan said as he reached in the pocket of his black leather trench coat, and pulled out two bundles of twenty dollar bills. "The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be." He held out his hand for Dean to take the money. "Here, if I know Michael, and I think I know him pretty well, he probably left you with just the money you had in your wallet, expecting you to take care of the kid."

"Not taking your freakin' money."

"Sure you will." With a laugh, Rowan turned on his heel and strode away from Dean, placing the cash on the hood of the Chevelle. "See you around, Dean," he called back over his shoulder as he got into a sleek dark blue Audi A5 with black tinted windows, and drove away.

Dean stood there for a moment staring at the money sitting on his car, undecided. He was sure Michael would make him give it away to charity if he knew about it, and he probably did know about it. But if Dean didn't have fake credit cards, and couldn't safely hustle playing pool while Joshua was around, he needed money. So in the end, he strode over to the car and snatched it off the hood, pocketing it in his leather jacket.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Joshua was in the back seat of the Chevelle fast asleep as Dean drove around aimlessly. At first he wasn't exactly sure why he was doing it, but after a while realization struck him as he checked out every parking lot as he road along. He was searching for the Impala, was looking for Sam.

It had only been about a week since he'd made the deal to guard over Joshua, and was already beginning to regret it. His whole life had been spent protecting Sam, watching over him, and now Dean could do nothing as Lucifer and Rowan both set their sights on his little brother.

As he drove past the Thunderback Tavern the familiar sight of his black Impala came into view, and he hit the brakes so abruptly, the driver behind his car was forced to do the same, his tires screeching loudly as he blared his horn at Dean. Dean made a quick turn into the parking lot and pulled into a parking spot in the far corner where it was dark enough that he could watch for his brother without being noticed.

For the longest time he sat and watched as people strolled in and out of the bar, but not one of them was Sam. He was seriously beginning to think his brother would never actually leave the bar when the front door slammed open and three rough looking men pushed Sam to the ground outside. Instinctively, Dean's protective mode kicked in, and he flung open the door of the Chevelle and was out of the car in a shot. He abruptly stopped short, remembering if Sam saw him the deal he'd made with Michael would be broken and no matter how much he wanted to help his brother, he just couldn't without his brother having to witness his dying.

Two of the men hauled Sam to his feet, and dragged him toward the alleyway on the side of the tavern. Dean followed at a distance, and as he reached the corner of the building, he peered around it. The two men who had carted Sam back to the darkened alley, held onto him as the third taller man, slammed his fists into Sam's face, stomach and chest repeatedly.

Sam made no attempt to stop them. Every blow, every kick to the stomach, every well-placed punch, he just stood there and took it. Not once did he struggle or try to fight back, and seeing that Dean's heart clenched painfully, his stomach twisting into tight knots.

Come on, Sammy, fight back . . . please just fight back for me. Not able to stand the sight of his brother being severely beaten by the men any longer, Dean stepped out of the shadows.

At that moment, Sam glanced up, saw him, and softly muttered, "Dean, help me," before his head lolled to the side.

That was all Dean needed to hear for his anger to turn into blind rage. He was about to head back there and kick all their asses for hurting his brother, when an ironlike grip wrapped around his arm and yanked him back.

"Not gonna help him if your dead, Dean," Rowan hissed under his breath. "Think Michael was kidding when he said you'd die if Sam found out you were alive?"

"He's my brother, not about to let them hurt him anymore." Dean jerked free of Rowan's grasp.

"So you're gonna hurt him instead." Rowan said with a nod of understanding. "Don't you even hear the Hell Hounds? Think, Dean, you still have time to stop them from coming. Six months, it's not that long, but if you don't stop now it's all over."

Dean stood still for a moment and listened, hearing the vicious sounds of the Hell Hounds echoing in the distance, and reluctantly pulled back into the shadows. "What the hell am I supposed to do? Can't just sit here an' watch them beating the shit out of my brother. Supposed to protect him."

"No, you're job now is to protect Joshua. Sam can take care of himself."

"He's not even fightin' back, an' it's all my fault . . . I never thought . . . never even considered . . . how the hell could I have done this to him?"

"Cause you were selfish," Rowan said with a shrug, "seriously, did you really think you were bringing Sam back for himself, so he could live a full life maybe go back to school, get married maybe have some kids . . . or did you bring him back for you?" Rowan drew in a quick breath as he glanced around the corner, wincing as he saw the tall man slam his fist once more into Sam's unprotected stomach. He looked back at Dean, frowning. "Told you once before, there are worse things than dying. Guilt is one of them. An' your brother is feeling a world of guilt cause you sold your soul for him, an' so he's punishing himself the only way he knows how."

A dark colored Camaro pulled into the parking lot, and seeing the man inside of the car, Rowan grabbed onto Dean's arm, and dragged him toward the other side of the building.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean snapped.

"You wanted your brother to have help," Rowan nudged his head in the direction of the man making his way toward the tavern. "There it is."

As Dean watched, the lean muscular man with unruly hair, headed toward the bar, stopped in his tracks and strode to the side of the building where Sam was. Dean followed, not sure of the man's intent, and glancing around the side of the building Dean saw the man first take out the older man who was beating Sam with a solid knee to the groin. A brief smile flit across Dean's features when the younger man kicked the larger man in the gut when he was already down.

"Learned that one in prison, course if I was still there, he would be dead now, instead of just holding the family jewels," the man with shaggy shoulder-length hair taunted in an attempt to intimidate the men he was fighting.

The younger man than went after the other two, fight for all he was worth in an attempt to protect Sam. One of the men grabbed him, wrapping his arms firmly around the younger fighter, but was quickly dispatched as the younger man slammed him into the wall repeatedly, forcing the older man to let go. He then yanked a gun out of his pocket.

"See, another thing I learned in prison, never fight fair, it's a sure way to die." the younger man cautiously took a back step, and gestured for the other man to move away from the wall to stand near his friend. When the taller of the two standing men took a step toward him, the younger man swung the gun to face his other adversary. "Don't think for a moment that I won't kill ya . . . killed my own Dad, and he meant more to me than you ever will."

Hearing this, the shorter of the two men who'd attacked Sam, took off running and quickly tried to pass by Dean. Dean caught him by the arm, swung him around and slammed his fist into the man's face. The man staggered with the force of the blow, and Dean followed. The man didn't stand a chance as Dean repeatedly bashed his fists into his face and stomach. Weakly, the man stumbled to the ground, and Dean grasped onto his shirt and yanked him up.

"Ever touch my brother again," Dean snarled through clenched teeth as he narrowed his deadly gaze on the man, "I will hunt you down, and I will kill you." The man struggled in a vain attempt to free himself, but Dean's grip on his shirt tightened. "But before you die, I'll make you suffer the likes of which you can't even begin to imagine. An' don't think for a moment that I won't find you or your friends. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

The man nodded weakly in response, and Dean roughly pushed him away, the man's head slamming into the pavement. The man scampered to his feet, and ran off as Dean headed back over to where Rowan was standing, and noticed the two other men on the ground, unconscious.

Rowan gestured toward them, and smiled. "Thought you could use my help."

"Didn't need your damn help," Dean growled as he resumed his spot to check on Sam.

"A simple thank you would have sufficed, but I can see how you're still in awe of how quickly I managed to kick two men's asses while you only took care of one." Rowan chuckled as he strode away from Dean, calling back, "Think we're gonna be great friends, Dean," as he disappeared into the night.

Dean peered around the corner, and saw the young man kneeling beside Sam.

"Dean," Sam mumbled forlornly as he looked up at the man. "Knew you'd never leave me behind."

Dean took a step forward, wanting to go to his brother, wanting to tell him he was alive and that everything would be okay, but knew he couldn't.

"Sam, it's . . . ." the man's voice trailed off and Dean waited, standing stock still to hear his response, needing to know who the man who saved his brother's life was."Yeah, come on, little brother, let's get ya back ta Bobby's."

The words the man spoke stole Dean's breath away, his knees nearly buckling as Sam accepted his answer without question. Desperately, he fought the urge to rush over and take is rightful place at his brother's side.

The man carefully hauled Sam to his feet, and hooked his arm around Sam's waist, shifting him to get a better hold. "Just lean on me, Sam, I gotcha."

It was Dean's job to pick Sam up, to tell him everything was going to be okay, to fix everything that was wrong . . . to make things right again. But deals didn't work that way . . . deals were made to hurt . . . to punish and inflict more pain. What Rowan had said was all too painfully true, there were worse things than dying. Sometimes living was the real torture. Seeing Sam now, Dean knew that to be the truth. And Dean now realized that the one he'd sworn to protect with his life, he'd now hurt the most by that vow.

Seeing them head in his direction, Dean rushed back to his car, got in and started the engine. Within a matter of seconds, he peeled out of the parking lot, and drove way. Not ready to leave his brother behind just yet, he did a quick u-turn and headed back.

Dean slowed as he came to the tavern and veered to the side of the road. The man he'd witnessed saving his brother was standing outside of the Impala. Dean narrowed his gaze to stare at the man for a moment. He then lowered his gaze to look at his brother in the front passenger's seat, and fear gripped his heart that Sam wasn't as strong as he'd always thought he was. How could he have been so wrong . . . how could he have just assumed Sam would be fine without him? The past year, Sam had tried in so many ways to tell him that, to show him in all that he'd done to break the deal, but Dean never understood that fully until now. His heart shattered as he realized now that Sam was just as lost without him, and what his brother was going through was solely his fault.

A single tear slipped down his cheek unchecked as he watched the man move to stand in front of the car in a protective gesture. It was exactly what he would have done if he thought someone was a threat to Sam, and despite the pain and loss he was feeling, Dean gave a small smile in understanding that someone was watching over Sam. With a quick nod of respect toward the man, Dean peeled out and drove away.

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so, hopefully everyone enjoyed the ending of the first in my Angels and Demons series. Let me know what you thought, i really do live for reviews, and if you enjoyed it, look for The Weak and the Weary which i will begin posting in a few days!! bambers;)