Heaven And Hell{Sequel to "Born to Be a Hunter"}

To Hell And Back

When I got back to my room, I dropped my jacket and fell, face first, onto my bed. I had made so many deals that I had to go over the number in my head over and over again: Twenty-seven.

When a knock on the door came, I was too exhausted to get up, so with a swipe of my fingers through the air, the door flew open. Matt walked in and took off his own jacket, laying it on the Lay-Z-Boy.

"Did you meet the quota for today?" he asked, pulling me up from the bed by my waist and holding me against him.

"Yeah, but most of them were near the poles, so I'm freezing." I said, his body heat sending tingles down my spine. He spun me around to face.

"Yes, you are a little cold." he said, putting a hand on my red cheek. "You could have gotten hypothermia." I pulled his hand away and walked over to my nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling my box out.

"Did you get the last of the spell?" I asked, scanning the objects inside the leather-covered cardboard: a hair of a holy demon, a feather of a damned angel, and a crystal made of a leviathan soul. The last item for the spell was a object of pure love and since I was the one doing the spell, the object had to be related to me in some way.

"Yeah, but we have to perform the ritual soon." he said, crossing his arms and looking down at the ground, contemplating about the plan. "Tonight at 11:58, exactly. Does anyone else know?"

"Only Jamison. She was the one whose been standing in for me when I needed to get one of the spell ingredients." I said, slipping my box back into its drawer and locking it with my key on a necklace. Matt watched as I dropped it into my shirt and let my hands fall to my sides.

"And you're sure she won't spill the beans?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I almost choked with laugher.

"No one says that anymore, Matt." I chuckled. He swiped a hand at me in failure and looked at his watch.

"Crap, I need to finish my shift. I'm on my lunch break." he said, grabbing his jacket and pulling me to him once more. Our lips meet with a quick peck, but it was meaningful – like it was the last time we would ever touch. I tilted my head questioningly, but he just smiled his crooked smirk. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"And we get the hell out of Hell." I said. We made an X with our right forearms (our signature pact).

*

I had waited for Matt and the informant for at least three hours. Crowley had the idea to give me the day off the next day, so he didn't expect me to be in until at least noon in two days. I was taking another look at my leather box in my jacket pocket, when I heard something move behind me. I pulled my Beretta from my back pocket and aimed it in front of me.

"Put the gun away, Jay!" a Cajun accent called from the shadows. When the brunette emerged from the darkness with Matt, I sighed and slipped my pistol away.

"Kathrine Mourrece. I wanted to thank you for your help." I chuckled and pulled my box out.

"No problem, sister. Anythin' to help a Winchester." she said, grabbing and shaking my hand then pulling me into one of those half hugs. "Damn! It's good to see you again, shah."

"The feeling's mutual, my friend." I beamed. She had a hand in her own jacket, so Matt asked her the most important question. "Got the spell?"

She nodded and pulled out old parchment. It was written in Latin, but luckily I could speak it a little. Matt smiled and pulled out his knife. I shook my head at him and pulled out my own knife.

"Uh-uh. I'm doing the spell." I warned as I took off my jacket to reveal a black tank-top and started to carve the spell sigil into my forearm. I grimaced as blood started to trickle down my arm and off of my fingertips. When I was finished, Kat handed me the parchment and began to read it aloud.

"Ut media sit eaque daemonium eiceret de inferno liberabis." I pulled all of the objects out of my box and the object of pure love out of my pocket. It was a necklace that my uncle had given my father one Christmas when they were children. I continued and held all the objects in my bloody hand. "Id solum esse, sed simul a domo Vintoniam capillo a sancto daemonium de damnatis pluma angelus de Leviathan cristallum anima puri amoris obiectum. Adepto meus eaque-" but then slow, sarcastic laughing came echoing through the warehouse we were in.

"Brilliantly said, sweetheart." Crowley's annoying voice came into my ears. He was almost laughing at my effort to escape. "But is it enough to escape Hell? I don't think so." Many more demons came from behind him - some too big for the three of us to fight – carrying a body sized bag. They threw it down almost like a sack of potatoes and a cry of pain came from inside. They removed the bag to reveal Jamison, whose face was bloody and tear stained.

"I'm sorry, Jack." she cried to me, shaking with fear and sorrow. "They broke me."

I closed my eyes, set my jaw, and sighed, "Son of a bitch."

Crowley chuckled, "With little effort! You should never trust someone so weak to hold a secret." He was walking closer with almost threatening confidence and I felt Matt and Kat tense up in battle-ready stances behind me. "So if you come back now, we could all pretend like it never happened. Eh, Winchestah?"

I smiled so defiantly that I saw the hurt in Crowley's eyes. Matt and Kat places their hands on my shoulders "As my dad would put it, 'Stick it where the sun don't shine, Crowley.' Jack Matthiam et incolumem ad terram Joseph!" Then finished the spell by putting the crystal, hair, feather, and necklace over my heart and with a blinding light, we were out of Hell.

For good.

*

I woke with a start, my long dead lungs hungry for air, and realized that I only had about forty more seconds of air. I took one deep breath and started to punch my way through my coffin. After I got through the boards, I started to dig at the dirt. My fingernails cracked and my fingertips started to bleed as I clawed at the soil.

After what felt like an eternity of scratching, my lungs gave out and I couldn't dig any longer. I kicked at the final layer of dirt, my lungs burning with lack of oxygen, and punched through the grass. I stuck my head through the grass and took in a huge breath of fresh air. The dirt made my hair crusty and my face filthy, but I plowed my way out of my grave.

I stood up and tried to keep my balance with my oxygen deprived muscles, but my legs were too shaky.

"I'm out." I said, my voice dry and crackly. I needed to find a way to find back to my family.