The fight is loud. Messy. Perfectly uncoordinated and somehow flawless.

Dean fires. Sam chants. Rowena’s magic cracks the air like glass. Gabriel warps reality mid-punch. Jack glows dangerously bright. Castiel moves like gravity itself.

Crowley laughs as he tears through enemies. “Oh, admit it,” he shouts. “You love this!”

Dean reloads. “Shut up and bleed.”

They win—but no one cheers.

Because winning never means clean.