Well, hello there, please don't kill me. I have too many excuses to count, but I won't bore you with them. I love this chapter except the end. But you've waited long enough and if I look at these words any longer, my computer is going to spontaneously combust. No more blabbing cept I am going to change my name soon. So don't be surprised if this story pops up with another auther writing it, its still me. Just check the ID and you'll know for sure.

The glowing inferno at his back, Sam couldn't help feeling alive. Fire was a weapon, wild and tame. Thrilling and terrifying. It grew and engulfed all around him. And even though there was a greater reason for the blaze; triggering the soppy holy water which now fell in thick streams from the ceiling, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy that enncial rush.

He watched with callous eyes as people, shocked and surprised by the sudden chill of water beating down their backs and the choking smell of the oil fed flames, ran for their lives out of the station. A few men he spotted clung to the wall, coal black eyes finding Sam's hazel ones with an icy glare.

Sam let the holy water drip down his back, knowing that it would help him with the battle he would soon be partcipating in. He flipped Ruby's knife out, hunching his shoulders in a way he prayed would look intimidating. Of course, how intimidating could he be compared to the tortures he was certain waited in Hell? Where Dean was…

Sam shook his head quick. Now was not the time to go on an angst feast. He needed to fight these basturds no matter what it took.

One of the demons locked eyes with him, clenching his fist. The faucts broke into metal shards all over the station, allowing the demons to come forward. Their feet smoked from the holy water. There was three coming toward him now, one to each of his major sides. A desk seperated the one on his left from him; of course, it wasn't much hinderence. With rediculous prescision, the demon jumped straight up onto the desk.

They all converged on him the next instant, fists flying with cold steel trying to bite at him. One had taken too wide of a stance and Sam slid right under him, knocking him onto his knees as the thing tried to rend off his arm. Instead, Sam slung backwards and slit his throat. He didn't sit and watch the orange sparks that followed, just slid the blade out and turned to the female demon lashing a knife at him.

She and the other male attacked him from both sides; her host's reactions were…incredible. She lunged toward his chest; Sam jumped out of her way, but he missed the other demon's weapon by a hairsbreath. She made another move with a grunt for his chest again and Sam went to intercept her blade with as much power as he could, hoping to disable her. Instead, she made a last second feint and aimed for his leg. Sam reacted almost quick enough. It glanced his leg, cleaving away flesh like a skinner would his kill.

Sam cried out, but tried not to let the wound distract him. The other demon, seeing his partner had wounded him, made a lunge for Sam. Sam flung his body away at the last minute. The demon's weapon drove deep into the bricks. Sam moved fast, cutting through the thin skin on his arm through his main artery. Sparks came up as Sam drew back and stabbed the creature again in his stomach; destroying the demon and, as Sam grimmly acknowledged, an innocent man.

Sam didn't have time to feel bad for his loss though. The female was on his ass, fighting doubly hard now that her companions had been slain before her eyes.

She acted fast, striking his bleeding wound hard and forcing him to double over in pain. Ruby's knife scittered from his hand. He desperately tried to reach for it, but the demon's high heel crunched his hand. She wiped blood from a cut he'd given her; she then calmly bent over and picked up his weapons. The fire, now unhampered by the holy water, had grown stronger once more. It cast a bloody haze on Sam and his attacker, strengthening their shadows and smouting the air with foul smoke.

"You know, you have been one real pain in the ass." She kicked his face as he tried to get on his knees. "The body count alone…Lilith wasn't too happy to hear about your little midnight escapade the other night. Fortunately, she sent me to clean up the pieces."

"Man, she's resorted to digging through the trash now." Maybe insulting someone who has you on the ground wasn't the best plan ever. The demon's foot met Sam's gut the next second.

"Who are you calling trash, you puking pustral? I happen to be someone who doesn't quite answer to Lilith even. Hense that killing you is not quite my plan."

"Apparently beating the crap out of me isn't out of the question though." Sam retorted spitting blood from his lips.

She smiled as she bent over and pinched his cheeks. "No, that's just for fun. By the way, I like your taste in women."

As if that was a cue, two demons came in holding a struggling Sarah between them. One of them had a pen sticking out of his chest, crimson blood dripping from the wound.

"Sam!" There was that expression Sam had seen so many times now; that magical one that said she was more concerned for him than herself. Sam could feel his stomach drop.

"Let her go." He tried to put an intimidating tone in his voice, but between a couple broken ribs and the crackle of his dry throat from the fire, it came out bloody and as broken as he felt inside. It took his brain a moment to comprehend that when he'd said that, so had Sarah.

"Oh, your going to need to be a whole lot more convincing than that before I will, Sarah." The creature grabbed Sam, raising him up against the wall by his throat. Strangled gasps came out of Sam's throat.

"Stop! No! Leave him alone!" Sarah cried. The demon simply chuckled, raising her hand in the air. She slowly closed it and the next thing Sam knew, his chest was on fire. Blood vessels were popping throughout his body, their contents brought to the surface through his pores. To say it was painful would be an understatement.

He could faintly hear Sarah calling to him, her voice pleading and desperate. His vision blured in and out of focus. Suddenly, he heard a new voice.

"Bael!" He watched through pain-drunk eyes as the demon's eyes flashed over to the entrance, where a face he felt he should recognise from somewhere stood. His dazed mind vaguely wondered if it could be Dean, but then Dean wasn't that short. Was he? Where was he anyway? Wait a minute, why did it matter? Who was he just thinking of? What was that feeling in his throat? What about that light dancing just out of the corner of his vision? It was so…pretty…

Sam felt black spots dancing across his vision as the demon shrieked and Sam collided with the floor. Quick as lightning he was back up, being pulled away. Vaguely, he remembered he was under attack and that he had to fight, but as soon as he started, he became extremely confused. Was it just a dream or has he just heard Sarah whipser in his ear? Maybe he'd made it to heaven.

"Don't fight me. You're hard enough to carry you big baby." The crackle of a gun went off somewhere in the distance as Sam stopped struggling and shortly after, he was completely out. The last thing he saw was an angel's face, looking down at him with pursed lips.

Black was all there was. Was it all there had ever been? he

He could see warm light flickering in. what color was that exactly? Amber? Bronze? Red? Did it really matter? Did anything? A part of him didn't think so, although another part was screaming at him. "Get up! Danger!" it screamed.

"Go away…" Sam muttered. Not a good idea, he realized the next second. His voice was met by a cleching pain in his head. He hissed, willing the quiet thrumming of his faint heart to come back instead. He wanted to go back to the blackness. Even this red crap made his head hurt too bad. For some reason he got the sense that he had been wanting just this for so long. He shouldn't go back out.

Slowly he could feel himself becoming more aware of his body. The tingle across his arms as his hairs stood on end. A cool, wet feeling across his chest which gave him a sickening feeling. His leg spazming periodically every five or six seconds, bringing on waves of pain.

What could he say about the pain? It felt like there were a million pinpicks, burnining across his chest. Like someone was literally driving needles the width of a fork's teeth speckled up and down his ribs. The worst part of it was he was cold. He wasn't sure if it was the blood plus the AC or just the injuries period.

An image flashed into his brain. It was of a man, covered in blood just as he was now, pinned against a wall by a demon just as he had been. Dean…where was he? Sam almost started calling out to him, then he saw it again. That annoying speck of blood on his cheek Sam had tried so hard, for some odd reason, to scrub off. The ribbons of flesh and cloth and blood and bone diced about on his chest. An image of hooks and lightning and more pain. The same one he'd gotten the moment he'd held Dean that last time, thumbing his green eyes closed for the last time.

It hurt. Maybe more than the holes in his chest. Because his body would heal, more or less holes. But that image, the last choked cries as his own blood gurgled onto his lips…it was something that haunted him, even now, when his eyes were closed. And it could claim his life if these holes didn't first.

"Sam…" he heard a soft voice say. Then his mind finally came up to the present. Sarah…the police station…the demons. He couldn't leave her, not anymore. His eyes snapped open, possibly too fast. The light overhead made him squint, staring up at Sarah's beautiful, tear filled face. The moment his eyes met hers, she cupped his face and raised him off of her lap, kissing his forehead. It was nice, but that didn't exactly stop the room from spinning. Since when was he on a fricken thrill ride?

He groaned. She seemed to catch onto his vertigo and let his head back onto her lap. But part of him had enjoyed it. Even still, her fingers carressed his face like she thought if she left him alone for even one second, he would disappear. Of course, he had before. There was no reason why she should trust him not to leave now.

He closed his eyes, inhaling the faint cling of Sarah's purfume through a thick musk of blood and sweat..sadly most likely from both. But for some reason, Sam found himself focusing on her purfume. What was it? Strawberries and…what? It was always on the tip of his tongue from the moment he met her.

Funny how it was the little things in life that tended to bug him so much. There were so many other things which could be bothering him at the moment, but instead he was focusing on purfumes. Sam realized that maybe that was what he always had done. In a family where a tramatic expirence for everyone else was Saturday dinner for Sam and Dean, maybe he had always needed something small like purfumes or holes in the wall to put his attentions into.

"He awake?" a deeper voice asked softly. Sam let his eyes open again, his curiousity of the familiar sound aroused. Once more, the first thing he really saw was Sarah, her once neatly tied hair ruffled and a cut across her right cheek that seemed to have clotted. Overall, she didn't look like she was too much worse for wear despite her puffy eyes and cheeks stained with tears.

He didn't recognize his surroundings; not from where he had passed out nor anywhere else he had ever been. It was poorly lit, with one sorry flourcent bulb overhead. Inscribed all over its walls were criptic markings in red spray paint; some like the devils trap Sam recognized immediately, some symbols much older with a sense of resonating power. A couple stairs led upwards to a sturdy looking door with a line of salt in front of it. The room itself was low; Sam made a mental note not to even consider jumping up least he hit the cement ceiling. But it gave them and quite a bit of random supplies plenty of room to move around.

Sam finally knew where the voice had seemed so familiar from; he'd most certainly met the well dressed man standing in the corner of the room before. It just surprised him vaguely.

"Detective Mark Rowson…I had no idea you were into such things." Sam croaked out. The detective shrugged.

"I guess we were both keeping secrets…" He flashed Sam a half smile.

"If you knew…why did you keep me here? They've been after me…"

"I've heard about you, Sam. A lot of people in this line of work have. I'm sorry about your brother…but I need your help." Sam cocked his head at the detective.

"If you haven't noticed, I tend to be more of a problem creator than a problem solver." Sarah stifled a chortle and Sam shot her a glare.

"Make no mistake, Winchester. If you weren't here, there would still be demons out there. I didn't make this room for nothing. I've had to relocate more times than you can count on your hands and feet. Convinced the burrue that they are part of a drug bust I completed a while back."

"What are they after?" The detective's face darkened. Sam realized he had no intention of