Dean pulled the trigger the moment Henry held him in place. The Colt fired, the shot landing straight in Azazel's chest.
The reaction was immediate. Cracks spread across his body from the impact point, light tearing through him as his form destabilized. His resistance dropped, the strength in him collapsing fast.
Henry let go and stepped back as Azazel staggered, unable to hold himself upright. He looked at Henry, expression steady despite the damage.
"I'll be waiting for you in Hell," he said.
Then his body gave out and dropped to the ground, lifeless.
"Yeah… you won't be going anywhere," Henry said under his breath as the blue glow faded from his body.
The markings disappeared, his hair returning to normal as the strength left him just as fast as it had come. He bent forward slightly, one hand braced against his knee, breathing heavier now that the Aether mode had dropped.
Behind him, the crypt door was forced shut again, the mechanism grinding back into place.
Dean and Sam watched him closely, neither of them lowering their guard completely yet.
Bobby stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he looked Henry over. "You alright, boy?" he asked, his tone rough but focused. He had seen the hit—Azazel's hand straight through his stomach. That wasn't something a man just walked off.
Henry straightened slowly, one hand brushing over his abdomen like he was checking it himself. "Yeah," he said, though it came out a little slower than usual.
Bobby didn't buy it. "Don't give me 'yeah,'" he said, stepping closer. "You got punched clean through by a demon that just walked outta Hell's front door. You should be dead."
"Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and agree with the grumpy mechanic here," Dean added. "We all saw that. You don't just shrug that off."
Sam didn't speak right away, but his eyes stayed fixed on Henry."You were glowing," he said finally. "Back there. That wasn't normal."
Henry exhaled once, rubbing the back of his neck like he was deciding how much to say.
"It's… not," he admitted.
Henry glanced between them, then down at his hand. "It's something I picked up," he said. "Helps me survive things I shouldn't."
Bobby snorted. "That's one way to say it."
Dean didn't ease off. He kept the Colt up, eyes fixed on Henry. "Yeah, no," he said. "You got more than that? Because from where I'm standing, you just lit up blue, took a hit from Yellow Eyes, and didn't drop."
Henry didn't answer right away.
Dean's grip tightened slightly. "So tell me why I shouldn't think you're something else wearing his face."
Henry didn't react right away. "Yeah… you can't dismiss that possibility," he said, like he'd already considered it himself.
Dean didn't lower the gun.
Henry lifted his hand slightly, the faint blue marking still visible along his skin. "But this isn't supernatural," he added. "If anything… it's closer to science than anything you deal with."
That got a look.
Bobby frowned. "Science?" he repeated, not convinced.
Henry nodded once. "I got it when I was trapped in that town I told you about," he said. "The one covered in that mist."
"There was something there," Henry continued. "Not from here. Some kind of meteorite… or energy tied to it. That's what did this."
Dean studied him for a second longer, weighing it.
"So you're telling me," he said, "you got hit with space rock juice and now you don't die when you're supposed to?"
Henry shrugged slightly. "Something like that."
Bobby still looked skeptical, but he didn't push it further.
Sam stepped in before the silence stretched too far.
"Dean… we can figure this out later," he said, voice steady but firm. "Right now, he's still Henry. And if he wasn't—if he was something else—he wouldn't have stepped in back there."
Dean didn't respond immediately.
Sam held his ground. "We'd be dead," he added. "All of us."
"Yeah,"
Dean lowered the Colt after a moment, not relaxed, just not aiming anymore. He walked up with Sam and Bobby, eyes still on Henry.
"So what, how's this work?" Dean asked. "You gotta start craving brains or something?"
Henry gave him a flat look. "No," he said. "It just burns through stamina. That's it."
Dean nodded once, like he expected that answer. "Yeah, figures," he muttered. "Nothing that good comes without a catch."
Sam stepped in slightly. "So the more you use it, the more it drains you?" he asked.
Henry nodded. "Healing, strength… everything. It pulls from me."
Bobby didn't dwell on it. He was already looking at the crypt. "We got bigger problems," he said. "That gate was open long enough. A lot got out. Demons included."
Dean exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, noticed."
Henry didn't respond. He was already thinking the same thing.
Then something moved.
A figure appeared near the edge of the cemetery.
Sam saw it first. "Dad—" he called out without thinking.
Dean looked up immediately.
John stood there, solid, not smoke, not a trick. He looked at Dean for a second, a small nod, then he was gone.
Just like that.
"Yeah…" he said quietly. "Guess something good came out of this."
*****
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