A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Or, at least a happy religious celebration/holiday!

###

Advent - December 25th

###

Dean is practically vibrating the last few minutes before the sun finally dips beneath the horizon.

He's been preparing for this for hours, talking with Sam and Bobby on the phone to make sure their defences and plans are coinciding. Apparently the bears were not happy about the salt lines. At least until Bobby stopped a demon from breaking in and attacking them in broad daylight.

Then they were all for paining devil traps all over the place.

Sam still isn't talking to them much. Dean gets the feeling that he's still pissed about the whole bear mauling thing and is trying to take the morally superior road.

Bobby confided that Sam looks like he's sulking.

Though, to be fair, that could be because neither Thorn nor Ash have contacted either of them since they disappeared. Seeing as how they appeared covered in blood, it's not a good sign and Dean knows that Sam is worrying about them.

Needlessly, maybe. But worrying about them all the same.

Not that Sam would ever confess that to Dean or anything. Despite wanting Dean to be in touch with emotions and all that other hippy crap, Sam is surprisingly reluctant to admit to anything of the same sometimes.

Hypocrite.

Bu that isn't the only thing that's worrying him. Dean's been watching TV. Dean's been watching the aftermath of the demon/daimon attacks that are slowly crawling across the globe. Dean's been watching live footage of the troops of a man, daimon, thing that refuses to give a fuck anymore.

It's horrifying. There are people literally being torn apart on live TV. The humans are panicking and running about. Military forces have been mobilised and people are dying by their hundreds, trapped as the sun sets around them, having to wait for the sunrise to save them.

Luckily, there has been enough coverage that some countries have set up warning systems and whatnot. But it's hard to predict, as there's no telling where the daimons or demons will strike. Or if they'll even strike together.

There has been more than one case of demons and daimons fighting between themselves. Over the best victims or something. But most of the time, Dean realises, they work together. As if they're drawn to it.

Unfortunately, those places where the sun set first, where there was absolutely no warning of any kind, have not survived well. There haven't been any official figures yet, but they've lost contact in more than one place and right now, their own government is trying to figure out how to assess and counter-act the threat than find out.

They think it's terrorists.

Which, really, isn't too far from the truth. But whereas terrorist usually have some sort of political or religious reason, these things like to do it for fun.

So maybe not terrorists then. Maybe just crazy homicidal serial killers.

And it's all on TV.

Dean doesn't know how they're going to cover this up. How Ash is going to deal with this – because he's going to have to, eventually – but Dean doesn't think that it should rest solely on Ash's shoulders.

And it's not like they've come out to the world. Not really.

Well, Dean's seen dark hunters on the TV, fighting the good fight. But they're not the only ones. There's a lot of humans too that are standing up for their lives and Dean doesn't think that anyone's made the distinction between the two groups yet.

Also, it's not like anyone's going to believe in this sort of thing anyway. Dean's got a lot of first-hand knowledge of people's ability to rationalise away anything that isn't out of the ordinary. Even when said extraordinary thing is sucking the blood out of your throat and about to eat your soul.

Of course, there are the few who do figure it out. But out of them there are only a few that would try and take advantage of the situation. A lot more of them are good people who would help rather than hinder.

Dean should know. A lot of those people turn out to become hunters.

But, that's not the point. The point is, is that the humans are fighting back. And they're learning quickly – especially the military. Which is a little shocking. But it still doesn't defeat the point that the humans – the ones that nobody, not even the dark hunters, believe can take care of themselves – are fighting back.

And winning.

True, a lot of them are dying. But daimons are dying too and it fills Dean with a certain amount of vindictive pleasure when he realises that its regular people who are standing up for themselves.

Maybe, in the future, those with extra powers, those who weren't born human and those who've forgotten they were human, will remember that there's a certain power that comes with being human. And that humans are just as powerful as they are.

But now is not the time. Everyone is too busy panicking over trying to stop this thing that they're not really paying attention to anything else.

Dean doesn't know why. Not really. After all, everything has turned into a giant clusterfuck anyway. It's not like anything can get any worse.

Unless they bring in the nukes.

Okay, so it can get worse.

Dean hopes they don't bring in the nukes.

His weapons are all sharpened and strapped to his body. Sam had left some of the knife holsters out on the bed where he'd dumped all their stuff.

Dean takes it as a hint and straps as many as he can to his body. Most of them go over his clothes, but it's not like it'll really matter. Not tonight at least. Not if the way they're talking on TV is any indication, or the images of the military and police force setting up a presence in all the major cities have any indication.

Hell, he's got more of a chance at being shot by the people he'll be fighting with. Even if they don't exactly know that they're on the same side.

He glances at the latest news reel as he packs all the spare ammo he can carry in a bag that he'll sling over his back. He doesn't need to carry everything – just enough to get to Sanctuary where Sam is bound to have more.

At first there had just been warnings on the TV. Pieces that were filled with fake sympathy for the suffering in the east. Sympathy that had turned into barely hidden superiority when the daimon and demons forces hit the Middle East and Russia.

And, really, Dean loves his country. But sometimes their bullshit makes it hard to swallow. Especially when half the news anchors seem, well…not pleased by what's happening. But certainly insinuating that this was a message from God.

They'd certainly changed their tune fast enough when they realised that this thing was coming with the setting of the sun. That it was heading straight towards them and they couldn't run.

Dean shouldn't take any sort of pleasure. But it is nice to see the panic in their eyes when they realised that they were next and they couldn't run. It was nice to see the way they went from railing against the Godlessness of the government to demanding that same government save them.

It is nice, if only because Dean appreciates the irony and the way the assholes learn that karma is a bitch.

But, Dean thinks, it shouldn't have taken the deaths of thousands to make them realise this.

If it was possible, Dean would want to go back in time and make sure that this would never take place. Because, whilst it was nice of his fellow men to learn goodwill and the joy of being part of humanity, it wasn't worth the scenes being repeated on every TV news channel.

Assholes he can deal with. Happily even.

But he doesn't have that ability, so he'll just have to deal. He's got a city to try and save and, unlike other cities that have no idea whether or not they'll be hit, Dean knows that New Orleans will be.

Because he's there.

He'd offered to leave, to run to the desert where the closest people where dozens of miles away. To a place where no one would be able to get hurt. But, Castiel had pointed out; the demons would still probably head to New Orleans first before moving after him. And all that would achieve is more death as he left the city without a protector and they ended up coming for him after they'd slaughtered everyone here.

No, better to stay where he is and fight and maybe, even, be able to save a few people's lives.

And, really, it's not like he'll be fighting alone. He's got Sam and Bobby and Castiel. And he's just watched footage of tanks set up a perimeter around the major areas in the city.

Not that that will help keep the daimons away. Not if they can teleport straight into wherever they want.

But the extra firepower is certainly something that helps.

Also, the enforced curfew will help as well. Even if it makes things potentially harder for Dean in the short run. At least there won't be civilians out mingling and partying in the streets.

And, strangely enough, everyone seems to be sticking to the curfew.

Not that there aren't a few unsavoury characters that aren't trying to loot a few places whilst people are missing, but in the long run, it's only the very foolhardy that aren't paying attention to the level of tension that has seeped into the city.

And then…and then it's time to move. The rattling of shutters automatically lifting as soon as the sun sets alerts Dean. He stands in the middle of his bedroom, Sam and his clothes strewn across the floor where Sam had dumped them out of their bags, and wonders if he'll ever see this again. If he'll live through tonight.

Then he realises that it probably doesn't matter and cocks his gun.

"Yippee ki-yay, motherfuckers." He says to the empty room, then leaves and locks the door behind him.

###

Dean had expected to find the streets deserted.

What he didn't expect was for the silence to ratchet up the tension thrumming though his body. Honestly, he doesn't think he's ever been this high strung before. Because, whilst he's hunted things that have hidden from him – he's always known that they're there.

Right now, he doesn't know if he's going to run into a group of humans, daimons or demons. He doesn't even know if he's going to run into anything.

This would be so much better for his blood pressure if he gets to shoot something.

It's almost fate in the way that, as soon as he finishes that thought, a group of three daimons appear out of a bolthole, right in front of him. They're not looking at him and Dean manages to take one out with a shotgun blast to the back before they register his presence.

The second one goes down just as fast when Dean, dropping the gun instead of trying to reload it, lunges forward with a knife and stabs it.

The third, having gotten over his companions sudden deaths, is a lot harder to kill. And Dean takes a few solid hits to the ribs that he's going to feel tomorrow – if he's still alive that is – before he can twist enough to catch the daimon in the throat.

It staggers back, hands pressing futilely against the gash and Dean doesn't even hesitate burying his knife hilt deep into its chest.

It explodes into a poof of gold and Dean realises that he's not even winded, even if his heart is pounding in his chest.

"Interesting."

The dry voice behind him makes Dean jump and he whirls around to get a look at the person, ready and willing to attack if need be.

But it's not a daimon. Or a demon. Or anything that Dean's ever seen or felt before. The power coming from him is old and deep and it scares the living shit out of him.

Dean tilts his chin and raises an eyebrow. "Who're you?"

The man tilts his head to the side, as if judging him, and Dean fights the urge to fidget. "I am Death."

The man is tall and pale with black hair. He's also wearing a very nice three-piece suit. All in all this is not what Dean expects Death to look like.

And yet, he's not even going to argue the claim because Dean can feel the truth of his words in a way that ripples through the air.

"What?" Dean says, "You want a medal?"

Death smirks. "You know," he says conversationally, "you are an affront to nature." Before Dean can get pissy at the obvious insult, Death continues, "You've died and been resurrected so many times. And that irritates me."

He trails off and Dean grips his knife harder. "So…what? You going to reap me then?"

Death's smile gets just that little bit sharper. "No, Dean Winchester. Despite everything, I find myself amused by you." He gestures lightly to the space where the daimons have just died, "And you are doing me a favour. Even if I'm not going to do you one in return."

Dean shrugs and says, warily, "It's just my job."

Death chuckles, "Yes. I had thought you'd say that." He runs his eyes over Dean from head to toe in a slow approving glance. Dean tries not to shiver or let the thought that Death may be checking him out run through his head.

"Goodbye, Dean Winchester." He says after a moment, "I'm sure that we will meet again."

And then Dean is alone again and the amount of adrenaline rushing through his system is making him feel ill.

He debates the pros and cons of throwing up in the middle of the street in enemy territory, and then decides that it probably isn't the best idea.

The adrenaline takes him through the next three fights before it starts to leave.

###

There's a tension in Sanctuary that is setting Sam's teeth on edge. He doesn't know if it's the contrite looks that the were-bears are sending at him, or if it's the fact that sunset was over an hour ago and Dean still hasn't turned up.

He thinks it's maybe a bit of both.

Luckily, he has Bobby to distract him and he can run the perimeter of the building again, making sure no idiot has broken the salt lines or messed up the devils traps that he's spray painted onto the floor and ceilings.

At first it had been difficult trying to speak cordial enough with the Peltier's long enough to explain what the stuff actually did. But he'd trained to be a lawyer for years and it was just like old times.

Eventually they'd seen reason, but Sam still doesn't trust them all that much.

And it wasn't helping that he still hasn't heard from Ash or Thorn.

He absentmindedly rubs his thumb across the mark Thorn left on the inside of his wrist. It tingles pleasantly, but not as much as when Thorn touches it. Which was…a bit embarrassing. But he can't stop his thumb from brushing across it again and again.

He doesn't even know if he really wants to.

The room is filled with were's of all different species. Sam doesn't know how he knows the differences between them, but he does. He supposes it must have something to do with being a Hellchaser now, as it's the only thing that's really changed since he's last seen them.

Sam is so caught up in his thinking that it takes him a second or two to realise that the atmosphere in the room has changed. He glances around; trying to find the disturbance and see's two men that hadn't been there moments before.

One of them Sam has seen before in Sanctuary. He was sitting with the green-haired man. But his companion isn't the same – he's a dark hunter. Sam can tell, because he has the tattoo on his face in the most ostentatious display of it he's ever seen.

It's almost as bad as Dean's, but at least Dean can hide his if he was going to wear a turtleneck or something. This guy has got no chance.

"Why am I here, Savitar?" The unnamed dark hunter says.

Savitar glances at the man to his left and then turns his attention back to Sam. It's slightly unnerving but Sam's not one to back down.

"There's something you need to learn, Nick." Savitar says and turns his attention back to Nick. "Also, you've got the east of this city. I think it'll do you some good."

Nick sneers, "Is this part of my training?"

Savitar's eyebrow slowly climbs, "Yes." He says, "I'll be back to pick you up later. Don't die." And with that disappears.

Sam blinks.

Well, that was weird.

He looks around to see the were's are looking at Nick with a mixture of shock and awe. There's friendliness and aggression in there too and Sam could spend his time distracting himself about Dean's disappearance by trying to figure out the relationship this man has with them, but then the front door slams open and Dean stumbles in.

"Dean!" Sam yells, and is over at Dean's side before he realises what's happening.

Up close he notices that Dean's bleeding, his shirt's soaked in blood.

"Oh my God, Dean. You're bleeding!" Sam might be panicking just a little bit, "Did you get stabbed? Shot? Attacked?"

Dean smirks, even as he leans on Sam for support, "Ah, brings back good memories."

Sam wants to shake him. Now is not the time for jokes! Instead, he looks towards one of the Peltier's. It's the father. "Do you have any medical supplies?"

He has to ask, because like an idiot, he left their kit at the apartment – too busy trying to stuff spray cans of paint and talismans in there as well.

"There's a medical bay." He says, looking pained, as if he doesn't want Sam or Dean anywhere near it and yet can't refuse them.

Sam doesn't really care; he just gestures impatiently and drags Dean along.

When they get there Sam can sort of see why they were reluctant. The bear that attacked Dean, the one from the cage – at least Sam thinks it's the same one, it's kind of hard to tell what with there being four of them – is strapped to a medical bed.

He starts taunting them as soon as they step into the room and Sam can't help but stare until he notices one specific thing.

"Dean?" He asks.

Dean's looking grim besides him. He's still bleeding but his gaze is entirely focused on the man strapped down.

"Yeah," Dean says, "I see."

And really, that makes a lot of sense. Because they're both staring into the pitch black eyes of a demon.

###

Dean isn't as hurt as Sam first thought. The blood is mostly someone else's. Demons, Dean assures him. The only reason Dean was finding it hard to stand is because he'd taken a nasty shot to the ribs and thought he'd broken a couple.

Turns out he was right, but he isn't really paying attention to the man wrapping bandages tightly around his chest. Instead he's watching Sam as Sam carefully draws a devil's trap on the floor.

He's not the only one, there's a bunch of other were's – mostly the Peltier's – who are staring at him and what he's doing. Sam ignores them; he's had a lot of practise tonight doing just that.

When he's done he steps back and observes his handiwork. It's as perfect as always. You really don't want to mess this sort of thing up.

Dean waits until the bandage gets tied off and then hops off the table.

"We good to go?"

Sam nods and steps aside as two of the quintuplets wheel the bed in. Quinn – they found out his name when they were explaining about demon possession – is still railing at them. But Sam's too busy checking that the wheels haven't smudged any of the devil's trap.

Dean glances over as Bobby enters the room on his sweep of the building. He looks over the trap, checking it one last time – now is not the night to have a demon loose in the building – and nods at Sam.

"Good work." He says, "I'll leave you boys to it. Gotta go check none of them eejits have messed up anything when I've been gone."

Sam nods and waits until the door closes and Dean locks it. He takes a deep breath as Dean cocks his shotgun and then starts the exorcism.

It's hard. The demon's been possessing Quinn for a while. But Sam doesn't falter and eventually it explodes out of Quinn's mouth in a rolling cloud of sulphuric smoke. Quinn collapses back on the bed, panting, but Sam keeps going until the demon streams away, heading back to hell.

It's not until the lights stop flickering that Sam stops and Dean unlocks the door and steps out of the way. Immediately the room is filled with worried were-bears and Sam and Dean step back, not wanting to get in the way.

There's only one difference. The dark hunter, Nick, is also there. It seems he's close friends with this family. Sam's not too sure what to think about that. Instead, he turns to Dean.

"Where's Castiel?"

Dean shrugs and then winces, "He said he was going out to fight. I'm not worried, he'll check in when he can."

Sam frowns, "Thorn and Ash haven't checked in either. I'm worried about them."

It's a private conversation, that's why they're both surprised to hear a scoff from the other side of the room. It came from Nick, who's sneering at them.

"Excuse me?" Sam says.

"Acheron. You shouldn't be worried about that bastard."

And then Sam gets it. This is Nick. Scorn fills him, but he doesn't get the first word in. That honour goes to Dean who steps slightly in front of Sam and looks Nick up and down. He looks so unimpressed that Nick actually bristles.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

Nick grinds his teeth together but Sam knows this game. He's played it with Dean before on the schoolyard and during hunting. He steps up besides his brother and gives Nick a once over as well.

He's not impressed.

"This is Nick." Sam says, as if it explains everything. And really, it kind of does. "The guy who blames Ash for all his problems."

That snaps Nick out of it. "I don't blame Ash for all my problems!"

Sam scoffs, "Could've fooled me."

"You have no idea what Ash did to me, human. So I think you should keep your mouth shut before I do it for you."

Sam straightens, "Actually, I do know what happens. Just as I know that what happened wasn't Ash's fault. Just as I know he still blames himself for it anyway."

Sam and Nick are standing toe to toe now, both having met in the middle. They're the exact same height so neither really has an advantage over the other in that aspect.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes." Sam says, trying to restrain punching the dark hunter in the face. It's harder than he expected because all he can remember is Ash's face when Sam held him as he confessed everything.

Nick hisses. Actually hisses. "He killed my mom. She was all I had; you have no idea what it's like to lose that."

Sam isn't impressed. "Actually I do." He says, "I know exactly what it feels like, multiple times. But firstly, he didn't kill your mother. That was a daimon."

Nick looks like he's going to say something but Sam just talks over him, not letting him get a word in. "And don't say that it was because he said it was going to happen. Because he didn't. If anything you should blame the fates.

"Every prophesy can be interpreted in multiple ways. It's they who chose to change destiny to include your mother's death, not Ash.

"Secondly, you see him?" Sam points to Dean who's wearing a smirk and gives a small wave as Nick glances over, "He's my brother. He's the only family I have in the world and Ash held me back as a demon killed him in front of me. Twice.

"Now, you'd think that that would make me hate him, yes? Because Ash was actually there. Ash actually stopped my from helping.

"But I don't hate him. You know why? It's because it's not his fault.

"And do you want to know the third reason you shouldn't blame Ash for all your perceived sins? It's because instead of doing everything you could to get your mother back, you used your death for nothing more than a chance to get revenge.

"See, you were destined to kill yourself, but you could have done almost anything with that to get your mother back. You could have sold your soul to a crossroads demon and not only got your mother back, but probably would have had ten more years with her. And it would still have classified as suicide.

"But you didn't. You took the most time effective way and demanded what you wanted. And when you didn't get it you continued to blame others for it.

"See, that's where we're different. When Dean died in front of me, I was willing to die to get him back. I was willing to do anything to bring him back. And I did. Ash took me to see someone and I sold myself into eternal servitude. But it was worth it.

"And you know what? I still don't blame Ash."

Sam's breathing heavily by the time he's finished and the room is completely silent. He'd stay and try and beat more sense into Nick's head, but looking at him is making him ill and he needs to get out of here. So he turns and brushes by a gobsmacked Dean and heads back to the bar.

He needs a drink, and he needs it now.

He doesn't get it. As soon as he steps into the room he sees Bobby's worried face and hears "We got a problem."

###

Meg is having a whale of a time. Who knew that daimons could be such fun?

But right now she's got bigger fish to fry. Dean's managed to give her the slip so far, but she's just had confirmation that both he and Sam are holed up in this rat infested dump. The daimon's won't enter, and the place has been tricked out with so many anti-demon wards that Meg has to roll her eyes at it all.

Luckily she's got an ace up her sleeve.

"Alistair."

She feels Alistair step up behind her.

"Get Ruby will you?"

Alistair melts back into the crowd of demons she's brought with her. Some of the ones she's released have left to wreak havoc at large, but most of them are ones that have been sent back to hell by the brothers over the years and want their revenge.

Meg smirks.

What sort of leader would she be if she doesn't give her demons what they want?

###

Dean and Sam are peering out of the window. The entire place is surrounded by rows and rows of demon possessed humans.

"You getting déjà vu?" Dean asks.

Sam shivers. "Like you wouldn't believe."

There's a ripple in the crowd and a man starts to drag a woman through. They stop by Meg just long enough for Meg to stroke her hair.

"Oh boys!" Meg calls cheerfully, "Look what I have for you!"

The man throws the woman to the ground in the space that's been left open.

"Sam?" The woman says, and Sam feels his heart clench.

"Ruby." He whispers and feels Dean tense beside him.

Meg smirks and gestures again. "Hurt her."

The man moves forward and Ruby starts to scream.

"Shit." Dean mutters. Dean's never liked Ruby, but it seems he can't stand to see her tortured. Especially when it's happening right in front of them.

"We have to go help!" Sam says and grabs the demon killing knife before running out of the door to Dean's muffled curses.

Sam knows that this is one of the stupidest things he's ever done, but Ruby's done a lot for them and he's not going to see her get killed without trying to stop it. Sam also knows that he's probably only got one chance at this so he doesn't stop and he doesn't try to grandstand. He just keeps running towards the man on top of Ruby and when he's close enough, slams the knife into his neck.

Demon's can heal from mostly anything so the man doesn't even try to dodge the blow. He doesn't get long to realise his mistake. But, to Sam's surprise and horror, the knife doesn't seem to be working as the demon smirks and starts to raise his hand.

And it's then that Sam knows that he's going to die.

Or at least, he thinks he is. Because as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Thorn's mark on his wrist starts to burn and power slams through his hand and down the knife.

The demon is thrown back, lighting up from the inside as it's burnt out of the vessel for the last time.

There's a pause and then Meg says "Alistair?" Sounding shocked.

Sam's shocked too. He has no idea what's just happened, but he knows he's got maybe ten more seconds before Meg snaps out of her shock and turns on them. He has to get Ruby out of there now.

He turns to help Ruby off the floor but is stopped by a sharp pain in his side. Glancing down he sees the hilt of a knife sticking out of his stomach. A knife held by Ruby.

"R-Ruby…?" He chokes out, but she just stares at him blankly. Distantly he feels his knees give out and he drops to the floor. "Ru-"

"Sam!" It's Dean. Dean is screaming his name, but Sam can't look at him. Can only see Ruby as she draws the knife back out and goes to stab him again.

He can't believe he's been so stupid.

And then Ruby freezes and suddenly lights up from the inside. Sam blinks sluggishly as she collapses in front of him to reveal Thorn. A furious looking Thorn. A furious looking Thorn who takes one look at Sam and bellows.

There's a whumpf and it's like all the air in the world is sucked into the spot Thorn is standing in. And then it explodes outwards. Sam gasps as it passes through him and he hears Dean cursing somewhere to his right.

But the demon's that have had them surrounded come off worse. Each and every one of them light up from the inside as Thorn kills them without even touching them.

Sam turns his head to the side to try and find Dean, to see if he's okay. But he can't really tell because Dean is being sheltered by Castiel who is gripping him tightly and covering him with his body.

There must be something else at work as well, because whereas the wave of power is acting like a localised tornado not ten feet away from where Castiel and Dean are lying, neither of them seem to be effected by it.

Sam wonders if Castiel is covering them with his wings.

Sam must lose a few minutes then, because the next time he finishes blinking he's in Dean's arms as Thorn presses one hand against his stomach. The other hand is clenched around his marked wrist. Sam feels warm and safe and when Thorn meets his gaze, looking irritated and worried, Sam just smiles at him before falling asleep.

###

Meg only just manages to escape before the wave of power kills her where she stands. She's trembling when she finally collapses against a wall. That was the most terrifying thing she's ever seen.

She has to keep running now. She can't stop. If she does then Akantheus will kill her.

Fuck, she hadn't known that he was in on it with the Winchester brothers. She hadn't even known that he was swanning about on earth.

Shakily, she pushes herself up. She can't go back to hell, Akantheus will follow and she'll just be trapped. Her only hope is to hide for however long it takes.

Plan made she takes a deep breath, turns and screams.

"Hello demon," Artemis says, a god bolt crackling in her hand, "remember me?"

Meg doesn't even have the time to open her mouth before the god bolt is slammed into her and everything goes black.

###

Artemis stands over the burnt up husk of one of her nymphs. The demon was dead, finally. And she had her hunter's soul back so all in all she was happy.

It has been an enlightening few weeks and now she wants nothing more than to curl up in her temple and let nature soothe her.

And if she is to keep an extra close eye on Dean? Well…nobody will know.

###

It has come to this.

Ash and Stryker have been fighting for hours now. They're pretty evenly matched; each drop of blood drawn from one is drawn from the other.

They're both exhausted, but neither backs down. Ash is probably worse off though as he's used up a lot of power today, fighting daimons and demons for hours before he came upon Stryker. And then he's had to protect himself from the battalion of daimons Stryker was with.

Luckily he's had practise killing daimons, and he's pleased to note that there's only three daimons left of the twenty he found Stryker with.

Unfortunately, he's at his limit and he knows it. But he won't let Stryker know.

"Give it up Stryker."

Stryker's answer is to raise his chin. "Acheron, did you honestly expect that to work?"

Ash grits his teeth because no, he hadn't. Instead he asks another question.

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm sick of it!" Stryker snaps. "Sick of everything and you will die today, Ash, if it's the last thing I do."

Ash feels coldness settle in his chest. "If you kill me, you'll release Apollymi and end the world."

Stryker lets out a bitter chuckle and throws his arms out wide, his eyes filled with hate and hopelessness. It would be a perfect shot if Ash had any power left at all. As it is, he's just trying not to fall on his face.

"The end of the world?" Stryker asks, "Don't you think we're already there? Why should I care anymore?"

And Ash realises that Stryker is being completely and deadly serious. Before their altercations have always been careful. Stryker, for all his faults, has never wanted the world to end. He's just wanted to get revenge.

But now…

Stryker wants to kill him. And he doesn't even care that he'll be killing himself in the process.

Just what has led him to this moment? And how did Ash not see?

"So what are a few more deaths?" Stryker finishes.

"They're a lot." Comes a bland voice from the side.

Ash jerks his head around to see the newcomer, ignoring the way the world span at the movement.

There's a man there. Standing innocuously between them as if he's not in danger of his life. Ash wants to ask who he is and what he's doing, when he feels it – the power this man holds – and knows exactly what he is.

"What? How did you get here?" Stryker spits, "Who do you think you are? This is between me and him."

The man, Death, is looking at Ash. But at Stryker's words he turns his head to face him.

"I am here," he says slowly, "because I am everywhere. I also wouldn't normally care but you've disrupted the balance far beyond what I am willing to tolerate."

"What?" Stryker says, and then collapses to the floor as power presses down on them. Ash isn't much better either. But at least he manages to sink gracefully to the ground instead of getting slammed into it.

The man stalks forward. "Strykerius."

Stryker sucks in a panicked breath, finally realising just who and what this person is. He tries to scramble back but he can't. Death stops just out of reach.

"I will not allow you to disrupt it anymore for a long time. You have twenty seconds to leave."

Stryker might not have been able to move, but his troops sure were. Within seconds they'd grabbed Stryker and were hauling him towards a bolthole that one of them opens. Stryker is pale and trembling in their arms, unable to stand on his own. But when he's through and back in Kalosis he turns his attention back to Ash once again.

"This isn't over, Acheron. One day I will kill you."

"But not today." Death says, and the bolthole closes abruptly.

Ash is left sitting alone on the ground, reeling at what has just happened. Was it over? Was this day finally over?

Death's crouching in front of him. Ash has no idea when he got there.

"I will be reaping the rest of the daimons participating." Death says quietly, "They have escaped me for far too long and their lives have become forfeit."

Ash blinks. It takes longer than it should. "Then why did you let Stryker go?" His words come out slurred.

Death looks at him and Ash thinks he sees pity in his eyes. "You are tied together much closer than you realise. And you are not so insignificant. I will not upset the balance."

Ash tries to make sense of it but he is just too drained.

"Come on."

Savitar's voice startles him and Ash almost tips over if it weren't for the strong hands keeping him upright.

"Savitar?"

Savitar smirks as he drags Ash up like Ash weighs nothing, throwing Ash's arm around his shoulder. "Come on," he says again, "You're useless like this. I'll take you back to mine and you can finish sorting everything out once you've had enough sleep to remember your name."

Right now, this makes the most sense Ash has heard all day. There is the small feeling that he should be protesting this and helping his dark hunters. But Savitar is warm and keeping him standing so he gives up and leans fully on his friend.

"Sounds good."

Savitar snorts. "Of course it sounds good." He says, "I said it."

"Wait." Ash blinks, "Wait. Nick."

Savitar tightens his grip on Ash's waist and slides a sly glance at him. "Oh, Nick. Yeah well…Nick had to learn something from your new friend."

Ash frowns but can't make his mouth work enough to ask what Savitar is going on about.

"Besides," Savitar continues, "he's at Sanctuary, he's safe for now. I'll pick him up when I feel he's learnt his lesson."

"What?" Ash asks. It's the only word he can get his mouth to say right now.

Savitar smiles. "That Sam." He says instead, "I think he's good for a lot of people."

###

Outside is quiet. Dean's not too sure what's happening in the rest of the world right now, but in New Orleans, it seems the fighting is over. Bur right now he's more interested in staring at the reflection in the mirror.

He has a handprint burnt into his arm.

Its Castiel's of course. He got it when Castiel threw himself on top of Dean to protect him from Thorn's power. Dean hadn't been able to see anything other than wings and the startling blue of Castiel's eyes.

But apparently using grace to counter grace was a dangerous game.

"I apologise."

Dean jumps and looks past his shoulder in the mirror. Castiel is behind him staring at the mark on his arm in sorrow.

Dean feels slightly embarrassed that he's not wearing a top.

"Nah," he brushes it off, "it's fine."

"I hurt you." Castiel says and Dean has to turn around because he can't have this conversation with his back turned.

"Seriously, Cas. It's fine."

Castiel is a lot closer than he was before. Dean thinks he should say something about personal space but Castiel is looking so unsure that he lets it go.

"It is not nothing." Castiel says and, for a reason Dean doesn't want to examine too closely, he shivers.

"Mmm…"

Castiel moves even closer and hesitantly reaches up to place his hand over the burn. Instead of the pain Dean is expecting, he's assaulted by something a lot more inconvenient and he can barely stop himself from shivering again.

"I would make it up to you." Castiel's voice is quieter.

Dean licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "I can think of a few things." He says, his voice low and rough.

Castiel blinks and does not look away.

###

Sam is sitting on a spare bed in Sanctuary. Thorn is with him, leaning against the wall and staring. He's not saying anything which is making Sam nervous. Extremely nervous.

Sam traces the pattern of Thorn's mark with his fingertips, just for something to do. He doesn't really want to meet Thorn's eyes because he knows that it'll start off the conversation that begins with "What the hell were you thinking running outside to save a demon?" and ends with "I've decided you're too much hassle."

No. Sam is not keen to start that conversation.

He jerks when Thorn's hand closes around his mark and meets his gaze.

"You know," Thorn says, and his voice is deeper than usual and contains hints of something that makes Sam's stomach tighten, "I can feel it when you do that."

It takes Sam a moment to work out what Thorn means and then he flushes. Thorn's been able to feel him stroking the mark all the time.

Fuck.

Sam opens his mouth to apologise but his breath catches in his throat when Thorn pushes him back, pressing him against the bed. He's looming over Sam, his body warm where they're touching, and tilts his head.

Sam notices that Thorn's eyes are a bright blue again. They're very distracting.

"I didn't say stop." Thorn whispers against Sam's lips. And then Sam is distracted by a lot more than teeth and tongue and the slick press of skin against skin and muffled moans.

###

A/N: Oh. My. God. This chapter just wouldn't die. Seriously. But I want to thank all of you who have read this far and enjoyed it! I also want to thank each and every one of you who reviewed :)

I hope it was a fun ride and I'll see you next year!

Demon Sloth x