This the fourth (and possibly last) story in this series.

Well, read and review, please!

Krissy Chambers is sitting on Jody Mills' stoop in Sioux Falls, North Dakota watching as everyone in the town celebrated the fact that the fog is gone and the sun is shining at normal levels. It no longer looks like its dying and about to either collapse in on itself or expand to the point that it scorches the Earth, turning it into another Mercury. Fitting since it swallowed up Mercury and Venus when it expanded.

The hunter knows better. It wasn't freak science that messed with the sun, it was something more otherworldly than anything naturally occurring. Not elemental imbalance in the star that caused it to turn red and cut back on its life-giving force.

It was the Darkness. Hopefully the Winchesters are behind the sun coming back to them, and she hopes that Ben is safe with them.

He'll get in contact with her as soon as he can. It's what they talked about should they ever get separated or go on different hunts, not that Krissy had been planning on letting that scenario come to fruition. It's why Krissy kept her phone fully charged the past couple of days, and it's only been four days since they parted ways, and she should have never, never let him go off on his own.

After all her promises to herself, Krissy still couldn't keep a single one. Yes, she had planned on coming to Sioux Falls with Ben and finding a life here so he could keep training under Jody, and becoming a unit with Claire.

As much as Krissy hates to admit it, her, Claire, and Ben could be one of the best hunting units out there. Better than Sam and Dean. They just need time to train together, to learn each others' weaknesses and their strengths, and to learn how to put their hunting styles into a cohesive form that'll be devastating to all the things that go bump-in-the-night.

That'll only happen if Ben calls her back.

"Please, Ben," Krissy prayed softly, "call me. Please - just call me. Let me know you're safe." She clasped her hands together, her cell sandwiched between her palms, and rested her forehead against his knuckles. "Please be safe."

BW

Sam woke up to a cattle prod to the chest after being put out from getting the bullet taken out of his leg. Agony rippled through him as panic made itself heard. Where's Ben? Where's his nephew? There will be hell to pay if they hurt him.

The woman with the cattle prod smirked at him and said in a malicious tone, "Be a good boy."

Sam shot her the hottest glare in his arsenal, one usually reserved for Lucifer. She should feel honored to be subjected to that particular glare.

The British lady, Toni Bevell, appeared in his eye line. She moved to sit in a chair that's next to a table, pulling out a notebook and a fancy pen that piqued Sam's interest in more ways than one. If he can get a hold of that, it'd be an amazing weapon, and, also, it looked like it'd be fun to write with, reminding him of his college days.

Ben should experience that. In fact, Sam's decided through the pain, he's sending Ben to college whether he wants to or not. As his guardian now, Ben's future is in Sam's hands. Ben is getting an education. He'll be more than a hunter.

"Now, Sam. Let's begin."

"Toni Bevell. London Chapterhouse," Sam said. He remembers.

Bevell grinned. "That's right."

"You're, uh, an English Men of Letters?"

"British," came the sharp correction, and Sam scoffed. There's one button he can push.

"Where are we?"

"Does it matter?"

Sam smirked. "Just wondering how far long a walk it'll be back to town after I kill you. And her," he said, nodding towards Cattle Prod Woman. "But you first," Sam told Bevell.

His response seemed to amuse her and she stopped writing in her notepad, giving Sam her full attention now, and Cattle Prod Woman seemed equally amused at him.

"Yes, well, before you murder us all," Bevell replied with a half-smirk, "we do have a few questions. About you, your brother. Hunters in America, and how you saved the sun."

Sam laughed. "Right. You shoot me, kidnap me, but yeah, happy to help."

"I didn't want to hurt you Sam, you gave me no choice," Bevell answered. "And, well, I can say it was never supposed to go this way but you're ...you. It was always going to go this way."

"And you know me?" Sam shot back.

"We do. We've been watching you and your brother for years. Ever since you almost ended the world the first time. We knew all about Lucifer, the angels falling."

"Then where were you?" demanded Sam.

Bevell tipped her pen at him. "Fair question. See, some of us wanted to get involved, but the old men wouldn't allow it. Thought we were overstepping our bounds. After all this business with the Darkness, even they had to agree, things need to change." Sam snorted, and Bevell leaned forward, imploring him to listen.

"You may not believe this, Sam, but we're here to help."

Now Sam laughed outright. "I can tell," he said sarcastically.

Bevell grinned back. "I want to apologize for locking you up. You're dangerous - to others - and to yourself, but if you answer my questions, you can walk right out that door. I promise."

"Pass."

"Sam," Bevell admonished.

"Screw you," Sam replied with as much venom as he could. "Where's Ben?" If they hurt him, Sam swears to Chuck that he will murder them all slowly and painfully.

Bevell quirked an amused eyebrow, recapturing her control, and tapped her notepad twice. "Still sleeping. What did you put him out with? He didn't even stir as we hauled him all about. Not even when we deposited him on the bed upstairs. Not a twitch."

Tension fled from him and Sam's shoulders slumped in relief. They didn't hurt Ben. Good. He's still going to kill them but now its because they dared to come into his house and take the last of his family from him, and because Bevell banished Cas to who knows where. Whatever they want with him, Sam's not going to make it easy on them, and if they dare to use Ben to get him to capitulate, they'll regret it for the rest of their short lives.

"I don't care what you do to me. I'm not going to answer any of your questions. I've been tortured by Lucifer himself. What can you possibly do to me?" Sam asked mockingly.

Bevell sighed and capped her pen. She shared a look with Cattle Prod Woman and nodded her head. The brunette reached over to the sink that had a hose hooked into the spigot that lead up to a shower head above Sam, and turned on the cold water.

Sam had to laugh again. "A cold shower? That's your play?"

Neither woman answered him.

The cold immediately started taking affect and a part of him worried that they'd subject Ben to this, but they really hadn't mentioned his nephew during their talk. Not until he asked. He doesn't know what that means, but he does know whatever it is they want with Ben, it's not good.

Bevell stared at him, and Sam tilted his head up as much as he could without inadvertently drowning himself in the process and spit out, "Screw. You."

Bevell sighed in exasperation. She allowed the cold water to rain down on him for a number of minutes, long enough for her to get sick of standing and returned to her chair. She watched Sam shiver and shake under the water until she deemed it long enough for him to answer, getting up and the cold water shut off.

"Can we end this, Sam, please?" Bevell pleaded.

Sam honestly thought she meant it but like hell is he giving in. "Screw you." He shivered from the cold but kept his head held high.

"What do you imagine is happening here? Do you think you're being brave, that you're the hero of the story?" She scoffed. "You're no hero. You're just bad at your job."

"And you're better?"

"So much better. You drive back roads, catching cases at random. You catch word of bodies dropped, you check it out, and maybe you even get the thing that killed that did it. But that person is still dead, and maybe more. But my people?" Bevell said. "We plan ahead. We study lore, and we use it against our enemies.

"Back home, every thoroughfare, every bridge, every dock, every airport has been warded. The moment a monster sets foot in Britain, we know about it. Withing 20 minutes he's been picked up, and within 40, he's dead. There hasn't been a monster related death since 1965 because we are good at our job." Sam sneered. Not possible. She's lying through her teeth.

"Now you were always a lost cause, but, Sam, we are hoping there are other hunters we can work with. Teach. So, I need you to give me names and locations and everything else. Dead drops, meeting places, an organizational hierarchy, because maybe with all of us working together, we can do what you never could - make America safe."

"Maybe you tie them to a chair," Sam replied, not believing a word she says. "Maybe you do worse. So, maybe, maybe you can go to Hell."

"Have it your way." Bevell walks away in disgust, but stops at the stairs and turns her head to speak. "I wonder though, with Dean dead, how are you possibly going to keep Ben safe? Will he die young like so many hunters before him? Don't you want a world for him where he can walk in the streets at night without worrying about some monster or demon attacking him?"

Sam didn't say anything. He does. Of course, he does, but that's not a world they live in.

Bevell turned her head forward and walked up the stairs.

CPW pushed off the wall and grabbed a small torch and turned it on. She walked forward and bent down to Sam's level, and asked, "Are you really gonna make me do this?"

"Screw...you," Sam repeated defiantly.

CPW sighed, like it was his fault she has to be the bad guy, and slowly inched the blowtorch to his foot and burned lines into it. Her hand is steady, Sam appreciated that he'll have uniformed scars afterwards.

He's not going to break, Sam told himself through the pain. Ben's at stake. He can handle this.

He's not going to break.

Sam came to on the floor, his foot bandaged, and a needle entry point on his neck, which felt on fire - and his head. What did Bevell or Cattle Prod Woman inject him with? His head felt weird. Cotton-y. Whispers and echoes scream, condemning him for past actions break through the cotton. Dean's voice is the loudest, blaming him for his death, for not finding another way, and for letting his son be taken by strangers.

"Ben," he whispered brokenly, clutching his head and shaking it to clear the voices. "I'm sorry."

Dean's voice rises in anger and disappointment, cutting Sam deep - castigating him for his failure at doing the one thing Dean asked of him. He even lost Castiel. Dean's voice yells at him to just kill himself already, Cas and Ben will be just fine without Sam screwing them up. Cas would do a better job taking care of Ben, and Ben likes the angel more anyway. It's for the best.

"For the best," Sam repeated.

The voices rose up in tandem, and Jess' voice joins Dean's. His neck twinges, reminding him it isn't real. Sam huffs out a quiet laugh. Oh, sneaky, sneaky. He can use this to his advantage.

Sam allowed the voices to roll over him and he started reacting to them in a visceral manner. He wants either CPW or Bevell to believe what they did to him is getting to him, and then he'll draw them in.

Staggering around, trying to ignore the voices, though Dean's and Jess' cut deeper than the others, Sam ended up in front of the mirror, and a plan formed in his mind.

"You're right," he told the voices, and punched the mirror. Grabbing the biggest shard, Sam brought it up to his throat and pretended to slit it. As he fell down, he made sure to cut deep on his hand to ensure a lot of blood beneath him. He needed Bevell or CPW to come in close so he could use either one to get out and find Ben.

Three minutes and Bevell comes down the stairs, cattle prod at the ready, but so was Sam. Moving lightning fast, Sam knocked the cattle prod out of Bevell's hands, and then her slammed against the wall with his hands around her throat faster than she can react.

"Where. Is. Ben?" Sam hissed, tightening his grip.

Bevell gasped, but didn't respond. Sam loosened enough for her to draw breath but kept firm pressure as a reminder of what he can do to her.

"Upstairs."

Grinning ferally, Sam applied more pressure on her throat, and watched her face turn red then purple. She collapsed, and Sam let her fall to the ground. He turned away to the stairs. He has a nephew to collect and make sure he's unharmed.

A blow to the back of the head had Sam staggering sideways, and Bevell shot past him and up the wooden staircase, locking the door behind her, and just in time. Sam was right behind her, his body slammed into the door, rattling it on its hinges but held steady.

"No!" Nonononono. Ben.

Sam slumped defeated. So close. So. Close. He thumped his head against the stair railing. He's going to get out, find Ben, call Cas, and get them both home where they're safe.

He promised Dean, and he's going to keep that promise even if it kills him.

"I'm coming for you, Ben. I promise. I'm coming." Sam closed his eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.

I'm going to take a little more liberty with this season. Not sticking so close to what happened. Dunno how long it'll be but I swear I'll post more regularly this time.