[h3] Dean Winchester [/h3]

Dean nodded to Mika, stepping over to her and reaching for her hand, squeezing it tightly for a second before releasing her and looking around at all the sigils on the walls.  He turned his face to Bobby,  “What do we need to do, to finish all this…?”

Bobby simply shrugged, and pointed at a bowl that set atop an old work bench, “Blood.  Hair.  You choose.  But we gotta get moving…”

Dean nodded, and pulled his knife, knowing that blood magic was a lot more powerful than a simple strand of hair.  He quickly walked over to the work bench, seeing that Bobby had already laid out the greatest hits of weapon choices they had.  He gently picked up Ruby’s knife and stared at it for a few seconds, before Bobby cleared his throat.

“Yeah.  I got it…”, Dean whispered, squeezing the blade in his palm and slicing it over the bowl with a growl.  He hated cutting his hands, but at least they healed quickly.  He let the blood soak the herbs and pieces of bone that Bobby had assembled in the bowl, and then quickly wrapped his hand in a bandana he pulled from his back pocket.

“Well.  Here goes nothin’.  You ready?”, Bobby asked, clicking his tongue at Mika and tossing her a sawed off shotgun.  He picked up his own rifle as Dean leaned into a fighting stance with Ruby’s knife.

“As ready as I’m gonna be…”, Dean muttered.

Bobby began speaking clearly in Latin, running his finger along the page of a book he had propped up on the table.  As he finished the short passage of Latin, he looked up at the ceiling, picking up a match.  He struck the match against the table, and dropped it into the bowl.  

Nothing.

“…Did it work?”, Dean asked, his eyes wide as he looked around the room.  Everything was silent.  Bobby simply shrugged at him, before the building began to rumble and the roof planks began to rise and fall loudly.  The electricity came in and out, and Dean stood, the knife out in front of him as the front door to the barn began to rumble.

[h3] Samael and Cason [/h3]

Cason groaned loudly as his back slammed into the window and then the ground below the window.  That was unexpected.  Groaning, he sat up, snapped his fingers and appeared back in the room, even if it was the last place he wanted to be with an angel.  He raised his hand, ready to slap it on his little drawing, while glaring at Benjamin.  

Samael laughed grimly at Sam, “How noble of you…you have no idea what I am.  I mean, how could you?  Your kind, at least in this world, haven’t laid eyes on my kind, that you can remember…”

As the witch showed up, Samael raised both his eyebrows, amazed by what was standing in front of him, “A witch.  How…interesting.  Darling, I hope you don’t think that your ‘magic’ is anything I’m particularly fearful of.  I have dealt with your kind before.  A mild annoyance, but, I’ll deal.”

Samael simply snapped his fingers, and pointed at a nearby chair, causing Benjamin to sit in it.

“Move…and I’ll tear your forcefield to shreds and burn your heart from inside your chest.  I have business.  Particular business.”

He turned to the others in the room, seeing Esme seeming nervous and almost in pain, as well as Natalia who was being snarky toward him.  He waved his hand, “If everyone can just calm themselves down…that would be lovely.”

He pressed Natalia, Esme and Sam’s arms to their sides and sighed, “Better.  Now…to business.”

With his right hand, he reached down, touching Annabeth’s forehead gently.  Watching her intently, he smiled when her eyes shot open and she let out a loud gasp, as her neck repaired itself.  She looked up at him with wide eyes, and he smiled back at her, as if he was her savior.

“There’s my girl…”, he whispered, rubbing the side of her face gently.  He looked up at Sam, his eyes turning to an intense glare as he did so, “Take a look at the man who got you killed, love.  Give him a good…hard…look.  I want you to know, all of this is his fault.  I’m sorry.”

Annabeth cut her eyes to Sam, where he stood bound and her eyes begged him to help her, “Sam?  Sam what’s going on?”

Still staring at Sam, he ran a finger down her chest, her skin searing as he did so, causing a loud scream to leave her throat.  As she screamed, every piece of glass in the room shattered.  Samael shielded his vessels eyes and stared down at her.

“Wow!”, he laughed maniacally, doing the action again, which caused part of the ceiling to crack.  Another caused the air around them to become hot.  Samael continued laughing, but quickly realized that her skin being removed was not causing her enough harm, “And that is disappointing.  You should be nearly dead by now, darling.  A lowlife demon was able to snap your neck and I…can’t simply torture you without you bringing this entire building down around all of us.  I don’t know if my brothers would appreciate not being able to kill the young Sam Winchester themselves.  So, unfortunately…”

Sighing, he rolled his eyes, glared at Sam one more time, and pressed his palm to her forehead.  Her eyes, nostrils, and mouth lighting up a bright orange, and her skin burned brightly.

Cason recognized what was happening, the light leaving her face shocking him out of his trance of shock and horror at her being sliced on.  His hands were shaking as he scooted over to the table and slapped his hand against the sigil.  A bright blinding light pierced every corner of the room as the angel screamed and disappeared, not even having time to make anymore remarks.

Annabeth continued to sob, her hands coming up to grip her face, and shield her eyes in agony as she laid on the bed, curling up into a ball.  She didn’t even notice that she was bleeding badly from the missing skin on her chest, her eyes.  She couldn’t see…

Her skin was still scorching hot to the touch and the glow was toning down.