Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What can I get for you guys?"

"Ah…yeah, I'll get the…" Dean paused, letting his eyes roam up and down the waitress as his lips turned upwards in a smile that had Sam averting his eyes and planting his face in one hand. "I'll get the double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries, Maddie. Oh, and extra onions." He leaned back, handing her the menu as her face flared bright red. She ducked her head, jotting the order down.

Sam screwed his face up apologetically as he passed her his as well. "I'll just get the number six, thanks."

"Anything else?" They both shook their heads, but Maddie's face was still bright pink when she disappeared through the swinging doors that led back into the kitchen. Dean's eyes trailed after her, and Sam smacked his arm roughly.

"Dude, hunt."

"Oh, I'm hunting alrigh'…" Dean stared after the door for a second longer before twisting in his seat to face Sam. Sam stared at him with disbelief bleeding across his face. Dean grinned. "What?"

"You're hopeless." Shaking his head, Sam pulled out a file overflowing with papers. He began to sort through them, choosing several at seemingly random and spreading them out across the tabletop.

"I'm so not the one that is hopeless here. No, what I am is good, so much so that I bet you ten bucks that I have her number before we leave," Dean said idly as he accepted the papers Sam shoved his direction, glancing down with just as much, if different, interest. Sam huffed loudly, shaking his bangs out of his eyes, and leaned across the table to tap the files Dean was holding.

"So, that there is the coroner's report, most of it is stuff that we already knew, but get this—this time the spleen is missing." Sam also pulled out his phone and flipped it around. "And I found these on the body, that, right there, look at it…" He handed the phone across the table and watched as Dean's eyes widened just a fraction.

"Are those—" he looked up at Sam who was nodding.

"Teeth marks, human teeth marks."

Dean slid the phone back, his lip curling up in disgust. "That's so gross. And right before lunch, man." Tugging his tie loose, Dean glowered across the table as Sam made a show of rolling his eyes. They both knew that it took much more than that to put Dean off his appetite.

"That still doesn't tell us what it is. Well, human-ish, that much is clear, but beyond that we still got nothing."

They sat in silence, Dean idly tapping his fingers against the tabletop as he read and Sam gazing off through the window, lost in thought.

"Demons…?" he finally threw out, but Dean was already shaking his head.

"What on earth would they need a spleen for? Or a lung, or an eyeball, or whatever else it was that the bodies were missing." Dean began to shift rapidly through the papers, his brow furrowing in thought before he suddenly sucked in a breath and threw the pile down. Sam looked up, gesturing for Dean to continue when he only grinned.

"Witches."

"Witches?" Sam echoed, his brow furrowing as his mind jumped through the possibilities before agreeing with a slight nod. "That very well could be. I mean, it makes sense and explains the missing body parts, though why they are chewing on their victims…that's a little out of the ordinary, isn't it?"

"Oh, c'mon Sammy, witches are already a few nuts loose. Do they need a reason?" Dean shuddered dramatically, muttering under his breath decidedly choice words against witches.

Sam snorted a laugh. "Well, this time can't be worse than that witch in Kentucky."

Dean shot Sam a baleful look. "Scarred. That whole fiasco left me scarred for life and—"

They both fell silent as Maddie approached, balancing a tray in her hands.

"Well that all looks just amazing, sweetheart." Dean flashed his best smile, his eyes never leaving her face. Her mouth curled upwards as she set Sam's salad in front of him before turning to Dean.

"Well, enjoy the look because you aren't getting anything else," she said pointedly as set his plate down with a firm touch that echoed back into her voice. Dean blinked in surprise.

"Darlin', I was just paying the highest of compliments to such a fine person as yourself."

Maddie shrugged a little, playing restlessly with the pocket of her apron as her cheeks turned pink. "Look, let's cut the crap. I'm flattered, trust me, but not right now, okay?" Giving Dean a small smile, she gestured towards the food before hurrying away and towards a table at the opposite end of the diner.

Dean pointedly did not look at Sam as he snatched for the ketchup.

"Dude, she just turned you down flat." The laughter was clear in Sam's voice as Dean began to squirt an amazing amount of ketchup onto his plate. "I mean, can't say that I blame her, but hey, I'm ten dollars richer."

Dean's head shot up, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Did you—did you just insult me and ask for money at the same time? Besides, I recall saying that it had to be by the time that we left. And if you haven't noticed, we're still here."

Sam shook his head fondly, brandishing one of the files in Dean's direction. "No, no, no. You owe me ten bucks because there is no way in hell that you are getting her number anytime soon. Give it up."

Dean jammed a fry into his mouth, grumbling under his breath before digging out his wallet and dumping out all his spare change.

Sam continued to smile, accepting the handful of coins and crumpled one-dollar bills and making a show of counting them himself. Dean watched him, something softening in his eyes. Sam's smiles were few and hard to come by nowadays with his worry about Dean and his deal, so even if it did come at his own expense, he wasn't going to complain.

"Oh, shudup and eat your salad, Samantha."

They ate in silence, both staring at the files laid out before them. Or rather, Dean ate. Sam picked through his with little interest, as he flipped from one file to the next.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said suddenly around a mouthful of meat and cheese, the surprise evident. "I think I know how all the victims are connected." Sam sat up straight, fully listening. "I mean, don't get me wrong I was confused when I was talking to the victim's families. None of them knew each other, they didn't go to the same school, none of their friends were the same. Just none of that usual crap," he paused, swallowing a mouthful from his coffee mug. Sam rolled a hand at him impatiently. "But I was looking at their credit card statements just now, and I realized something. It turns out that they all went to the same gym, Rucker's. Hell, the first guy to disappear, Mike, actually worked the front desk."

"Rucker's?" Sam paused before snatching out another file on a Lilly Hannon and flipping through it to the credit card statement, his own eyes widening. "But…"

"I know, what would a witch be doing in a gym? Lifting weights? I mean, she does have to ensure that she can continue to drag bodies around. Deadweight isn't exactly light." Dean examined a slightly burnt fry before shoving it into his mouth with a shrug.

But Sam had now dropped his fork, pushing his plate away as he eagerly pawed through the papers. "It makes sense, though, in a weird sort of way. Think about it, you would see the same people every day, and know their routine and everything, but there is no personal connection to tie back to you, not without some digging. Huh."

"Now we just need to figure out who she is," Dean pointed out and Sam nodded absently, his mind no doubt already working through 1,001 ways to kill a witch.

Sam stifled a yawn, wiping a hand over his face before beginning to thrust everything back into his bag.

"So to Rucker's?"

"Yeah, but hold your horses there, bucko. I'm not done yet." Dean reached for the ketchup again and Sam cocked an eyebrow. "What? My fries don't have enough salt on them, I'm just trying to give them some flavor!"

"Well, your heart, for one, thanks the cook." Sam stood up, tossing his napkin onto the table. "I'm gonna hit the head." Dean nodded as Sam left, his mouth once again full of french fries.

"Do you think you could fit any more in?"

Dean swallowed hard, his face flushing as he looked up at Maddie, who had come over with the check. "He's in a rush and I'm hungry!" he defended, gesturing back in the direction that Sam had gone.

She shook her head, holding out a Styrofoam box. "That's what these things are for, dumbass." Dean took it with a grumble, scratching a hand across the back of his neck. When Maddie didn't immediately leave, he glanced back up to find her standing there, biting at her lower lip hesitantly.

"What?" Dean's hand ghosted up to his face, wiping subconsciously at his mouth.

"Are you with the FBI?" Maddie blurted out before flushing and taking a small step back. "I mean, are you here looking into all those deaths? I kinda overheard you two talking about them as I was passing by, and well…" Her hands were twisting nervously in her apron again and she refused to look him in the eye as she pushed her hair back behind her ear.

Dean straightened, fries forgotten, and pulled his suit coat back from where he had flung it across the bench and pulled out his badge. He flipped it open, allowing her to take it before gesturing for her to take Sam's seat across from him. "Do you have something you want to tell me, Maddie?"

She paused again, her eyes darting around the small diner. "Not really, well, maybe?" She grimaced but Dean motioned for her to continue and she took a deep breath. "I—I used to take a class with one of the girls, Lily, Lily Hannon, but it wasn't like I knew her super well. I hadn't even talked to her since then, you know? Again, this is really small and stupid so don't get your hopes up, but it's just that ever since I heard about how she was murdered it's been bugging me."

Dean nodded, his eyes boring steadily into hers. "Trust me, we won't think that whatever you have to say is weird or strange. We'll believe you."

Maddie attempted a half-smile. "I was out hiking the old mountain trails last Thursday and I was coming off one of them when I bumped into her."

"Wait—" Dean interrupted. "Wasn't she reported missing early Friday morning?"

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "But Lily hated hiking and she looked…freaked? She didn't want to talk, wouldn't even say hi to me and that was nothing like her. She just brushed past me like she was in some great hurry. Lily was freaked about something, I am almost positive, looking back." Maddie laughed a little, her face flushing. "Now that I've said it, I feel really dumb. That probably doesn't help at all. I'm sorry for wasting your time, agent."

Dean worked to keep the surprise off his face as her story came to an end. He had been expecting something a little bit…stranger. "No, no, you're fine. Have they looked at those old trails for any sign of violence or the other bodies?" He knew that Lily's body had turned up in the middle of town but that had clearly been a dump site rather than the actual murder scene.

Maddie flinched at the mention of a body but shook her head. "I don't think so. They didn't see the need and besides, it's probably nothing. I think I'm just freaked out that I saw her only hours before she was killed. Sorry again," She stood quickly and slid the bill across to him, clearly flustered.

Dean stood as well, waving away her embarrassment. "You're good. One last question, though. Do you go to Rucker's?"

She raised her eyebrows at that but shook her head. "I don't even know where that is."

"Good. Don't change that. Here, how about we exchange numbers so that we can call you if we have any more questions, alright?" Dean extended his hand, a calling card in between two fingers. Maddie nodded, hurriedly scrawling her number on a napkin before pointing at the Styrofoam box.

"Don't forget," she ordered, before making a hasty retreat through the swinging doors.

Sam reappeared a moment later. "Finish your fries?" He grabbed his jacket from the bench and shrugged into it.

"Oh, yeah." Dean turned to face him, his smile stretching wide enough to show all his teeth. "Give me back my ten bucks, man."

"What? No, dude, I won that fair and square." Sam grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and headed for the door. He stopped in surprise as Dean waved the napkin in his face and Dean reveled in his expression as his mouth opened and shut.

"I was gone for like, two minutes, at most. She was not into you before that, how…"

Dean threw his head back, laughing as he led the way out the door. "What can I say? The ladies can't resist the charm of Dean Winchester. Give me back my money, man."

Sam made a face, his nose scrunching up in annoyance, and Dean could almost see the arguments flashing through his brain before he finally admitted defeat and began to dig into his pocket.

Dean chuckled appreciatively as he slid in behind the wheel. Draping an arm over it, he lightly tapped his thumb against the ridge before heaving a sigh. "So, confession," he admitted as he turned the key, "Maddie gave me her number because she was one of the last people to see the Hannon girl alive."

"HA!—I knew that she didn't like you." Sam held his hand out but Dean slapped it back down.

"I still got her number and we never said that she had to like me. Besides, aren't you interested in what she had to say?" Sam paused, his lips puckering before indicating for Dean to continue. "To be fair, she didn't know much but she said that she saw Lily hiking out on some old trails and she was apparently acting strange. Also wasn't one for hiking."

Sam didn't look impressed. "Hiking? I don't know man. I think that the gym is a better lead at this point." All the same, he was looking through the glove box, looking for the map of the town that they had picked up when they first rolled in. A minute later, he was leaning across to show Dean. "Those trails aren't even close, about an hour's drive, I would estimate."

"So gym and research?" Dean turned the key, letting his baby purr loudly under his hand as Sam gave a distracted nod of agreement.

#

Sam looked up from the computer as Dean stepped back from the wall, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Something about this all feels…off," he grunted, looking at the pictures, the sticky notes, and papers spread out across the map that was tacked to their wall.

"Think you can nail it down to more than a feeling?"

"If I had, I would have led with it, genius." Dean flopped back on the bed, staring at the wall. "We drilled whats-his-face—"

"—Allen—"

"—Allen pretty good. Nothing has been going on at the gym unless you count Mike's disappearance, but he wasn't even at the gym when it happened. He had been off for a few days."

"But if the witch is just hanging out there, there wouldn't be anything," Sam supplied. He leaned back, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"I don't know. I still say something feels off."

Sam nodded seriously. He knew better than to take his brother's instincts for granted. Hell, they had saved his life more than once, that was for sure. He cocked his head to the side, watching as Dean gathered up his duffle, searching for fresh clothes.

"Where you goin'?"

"I need a break, man, I'm going crazy staring at those pictures. I'm gonna shower and then hit that bar up the road, maybe hustle in some extra dough. You wanna come?" Dean's lips quirked up hopefully but Sam was already shaking his head, his eyes returning to the screen.

"I'm going to do some more research."

"On the missing people, right?" There was a knowing tone to Dean's voice and Sam's eyes remained firmly locked on whatever it was he was reading. No, of course, he wouldn't be looking into how to break Dean's deal, it wasn't like Dean had sold his soul for him or anything. It wasn't like Sam was going to sit by and just wait for him to die and it certainly wasn't like he was terrified right down to his very soul of losing Dean.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled noncommittedly. Dean was silent as he continued to gather up his clothes but as he passed Sam on the way to the bathroom, he paused briefly.

"Don't do that all night," he admonished, his hand finding Sam's shoulder and squeezing.

"Yeah, okay." Sam was typing at a speed that would have put a professional to shame, his eyes squinting to take everything in better. Dean heaved a sigh, patting his shoulder roughly, before entering the bathroom.

It was just after three in the morning when Sam leaned back in his chair, rubbing ferociously at his aching eyes in an attempt to get them to focus correctly before glancing back at the screen. He had a whole bunch of nothing, both on the missing people and how to break Dean's contract.

Tugging a hand through his hair, he bent closer to the screen, squinting in the dim light. He was close, surely. Sooner or later he had to stumble across something that would help, he just needed to dig a little harder, a little deeper, just a little longer…

But right now, he needed to change his focus, just for half an hour, so that he could get some fresh ideas flowing.

Pulling the complementary notepad back towards him, Sam angled it towards the light and began to flip back through the notes he had made about the witch, if it was a witch, and her pattern but the words were blurring and making little sense. His own journal with the much more precious notes on Dean's case sat next to the laptop, ready and waiting for use if something sparked.

Dean let out a soft snore and Sam glanced over at him, watching as he rolled over in his sleep. Dean had left for the bar hours ago, only stumbling in just after two, tipsy and brandishing a roll of money before collapsing onto the bed completely dressed. Sam had surfaced long enough to cajole Dean out of his jacket and boots before throwing a blanket over him and returning to the table. The old, thick books that he had borrowed from Bobby had been neatly stowed back in his bag.

Sam's eyes wandered back to them as Dean continued to snore and Sam shook himself, digging one of them back out and moving closer to the dim light that the screen was giving off. The thought of Dean's deal was a better energizer than coffee and he was just flipping to the section about a demon named Enlil when the soft squeal of rock music began to echo through the room.

"Dean. Phone," Sam called over his shoulder, scribbling tiny letters onto the bottom of a page, trying to get it all to fit. The sounds died and Sam flipped a page, running his finger down the text. The sound started up again and Sam raised his head. Dean was curled up on his side, head under a pillow.

Shoving back his chair, Sam fumbled for Dean's jacket and began to scour through the pockets. Yanking out the vibrating phone, Sam flipped it open and nestled it between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed his pen again.

"Hello?"

For a moment there was silence and Sam repeated the question distractedly, his mind still on the book.

"Agent Banner?" The voice on the phone was hesitant, scared, and vaguely familiar and Sam was suddenly at full alert, his book forgotten.

"Yeah, who is this?" he asked, his voice gentler this time even as he transferred the phone to his hand and moved across the room, shaking Dean's arm. There was a suppressed sob on the other side of the line and Sam pressed the phone harder against his ear, his own adrenaline beginning to pick up.

"Maddie, from the diner. You've got to—you've got to help me!"

"Wha's goin' on?" Dean mumbled from the bed, looking up at Sam through bleary eyes. Sam jerked his head towards the door, already moving to gather up his own boots.

"Maddie, we're gonna help you, alright? Now, I need you to be calm and take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?" There was a shuddered gasp from the other end as Sam bent over to tie the laces of his boots and then reached across the table to shove his gun into the back of his jeans. "Good, now are you safe enough to talk? If not that's alright, we'll figure it out."

"I don't know, maybe—I think so. Agent, I don't know where I'm at." Over the phone came the sounds of more tears and Sam met Dean's eyes over the beds.

"We're coming to find you, Maddie, I swear. Just stay on the line for as long as you can and tell us anything that might clue us in on where you are at." Dean was throwing his jacket on, snatching up their duffle full of weapons as he headed for the door and Sam followed suit.

There was silence and Sam waited with bated breath.

"I—I'm in some sort of cabin, I think. Out on the mountain." There was a loud crashing sound and Sam froze, his heart pounding hard enough for him to feel it as Maddie let out a shriek.

"Maddie? Maddie, are you there? Are you alright?"

"Sorry, I uh, I knocked something over. I don't know what, it's too dark. Oh…" Maddie's voice faded out and Sam threw a startled look at Dean, who was watching him with worried eyes.

"She says that she's in a cabin on the mountains," he hissed to his brother who nodded. "Maddie?" he asked urgently as he pulled open the door to the Impala. The car rumbled to life, Dean spinning the wheel aggressively.

"Agent?" Maddie's voice had risen an octave, her voice hoarse with panic and fear.

"I'm here," Sam assured lightly.

"There…There's a body. A dead body." Maddie gave a strained laugh, sounding close to hysteria and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the phone against his forehead momentarily.

"What's happening?!" Dean demanded, the car increasing rapidly in speed as they headed out of town and towards the hiking trails that Maddie had pointed out earlier. Sam ignored him, focusing on Maddie.

"Alright, just…have you checked for a pulse?" For a moment there was silence on the phone and Sam and Dean shared a dark look.

"There's no pulse. She's not breathing."

Sam felt a wave of regret flood him but pushed it aside. "Okay, just don't focus on her. You need to worry about getting yourself out right now. Is the witch—uh, whoever took you right there?" Sam held his breath, his free hand subconsciously bracing against the dashboard as Dean took a flying turn.

"No." Maddie sounded a little more confident with that answer and Sam clung to it.

"Good. Try the door and if that doesn't work, a window. You've got to get out, any way possible, okay? We're coming as fast as we can but you need to leave." Sam cocked his head to the side, trying to decipher what was happening from the muffled shuffling and scrapes.

"Sam…?" Dean asked urgently from his side, sending Sam a sideways glance.

"She's looking for a way out," Sam whispered, covering the phone with one hand. Dean's grip on the steering wheel only tightened, his foot pressing a little harder on the gas.

"Agent?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Sam twisted the phone back to his mouth. "Are you out?"

"There was a window in the back that was unlocked. I'm—I think I was in the old Clintwood cabin. I mean, I've never actually been out here but I've heard rumors of it, and it looks like the pictures that I've seen—"

Sam listened to her ramble, comprehending the knowledge and shuffling through what he already knew. Sometime before midnight he had looked into the trails, just out of curiosity, and had read brief mentions of an old settler cabin that had been abandoned near the top of the mountain. Now it was just used as a path marker, but it could have been an ideal place to practice spell work.

"That's real good, Maddie, you're doing great. Follow the road, but stay off of it, does that make sense? It will make you harder to spot if they come back. My partner and I will be there as soon as we can, but if it really is Clintwood's old cabin then it's gonna take us a couple of hours to get there."

"I can do that, the—" The shrill scream split Sam's eardrum and he jerked away reflexively before jamming the phone closer.

"Maddie?! Maddie, are you alright? What happened? Answer me!" Sam was half out of his seat, listening intently, but there was only silence on the other end. A moment later, a short click sounded as the call disconnected.

"Sonofa—" Sam threw the phone onto the seat, washing a hand over his face before gripping a fistful of his hair tightly.

"What happened?" Dean tore his gaze from the road, his own eyes wide. "C'mon, speak to me, man!"

Sam shook his head, his breathing heavy. "She escaped, Dean, and then she was screaming and someone ended the call. That's all I know."

Dean swore loudly, slapping the steering wheel. "How far out are we?"

"About another thirty minutes to the trailhead, but from there, we have to hike in. It's going to be another three hours minimum. I was looking into this more closely when I hit a dead end with the gym. That Cabin? Some dude built it in the 1800s in an attempt to get away from civilization. It's near the top of the mountain."

Dean shoved a cassette tape in without looking at what it was and twisted the volume up as loud as it would go.

Chapter Text

The tension in the air was stifling by the time Dean spun the Impala into the parking lot, and it was a relief to step out into the cool morning air. The mountain stretched above them, tall and intimidating, and the sound of thundering water greeted them. The sun, which was just beginning to rise over the towering trees, illuminated the long bridge that stretched out across a roaring river.

"We go in gun's blazin," Dean said coldly, already standing over the trunk and shoving extra shells into the duffle. Sam nodded once, adding water and the first aid kit into the bag before pulling a flask of holy water out and shoving it into his pocket. Dean reached past him, nabbing a canister of salt. "To burn her body with—" he muttered at Sam's look, before adding his favorite hunting knife.

Sam grabbed the box of matches.

They might not end up killing the witch, but at the very least they would burn the contents of the altar.

"Ready."

"Good." Dean turned towards the bridge, swinging his duffle over his shoulder. Sam followed him, the map spread out in his hands as he squinted through the faint, grey, light of dawn.

"Take the first left when we come to it," Sam said softly as they stepped foot onto the bridge, mentally marking the rest of the path before handing the map over to Dean. Dean glanced at it once, before folding it up and passing it back to Sam, who put it in his pocket.

While Sam may have been able to remember obscure details and every book he had ever read, Dean was a genius when it came to maps and navigating, amongst other things.

They crossed the bridge at a fast jog and, when the path split moments later, they took the branch that veered off to the left.

By the time the sun was fully in the sky, Sam and Dean had shucked off their jackets and were starting to sweat as they practically ran up the increasingly steep mountain trail.

"We're getting close now, right?" Sam panted as they began a laborious climb up yet another steep, zig-zagging hill. One hand was pressed lightly against his side, attempting to ease the stitch there. Next to him, Dean was panting just as hard, but both kept up the rapid pace they had set, unwilling to let any more time pass than was needed.

"Should be. We can't go that much higher. You did say that his cabin was visible from the path, right?"

"Yeah. The article said that most people use it as a landmark. Apparently, it's in somewhat good condition still, enough so that they have to kick teenagers out regularly. Although why they would hike all the way up here, I don't know. It isn't exactly a piece of cake."

"Well, most people don't typically jog through hikes." Dean hitched the duffle a little higher up against his shoulder, glancing back at his brother with a dark look. "Besides, aren't you running on like, zero sleep?"

Sam snorted as they crested the hill and began to cross more even ground. Up ahead, they could see the brief respite ending as the trail once again began to climb. "Something like that but at least I'm not hungover."

"I wasn't drunk," Dean insisted and, at Sam's disbelieving look, amended, "Tipsy, maybe, but I wasn't fully drunk."

"Whatever."

They began to labor up the hill and all conversation came to a stop as they concentrated on breathing. They were almost to the top when Sam came to an abrupt halt, reaching out and smacking Dean across the chest. "Look…" He pointed off to the right and just through the foliage they could see the old, crumbling remains of a cabin. The wood was splintering in places and patches of the roof were missing, but at least all four walls were standing.

"Good condition, my ass," Dean muttered as he pulled out his gun, checking it once before jerking his head towards the door. Sam followed suit and they broke off from the path, edging up through the foliage and brush as quietly as possible. The cabin appeared to be lifeless and Sam's heart sank. Dean paused beside him, bending down.

"I've got blood," he said softly, using his gun to point at the few droplets of discolored dirt and Sam crouched down next to him.

"That's not a fatal amount," Sam said hopefully, and Dean nodded in agreement as he wiped his hand on his jeans. Together they covered the last few steps towards the shack, their guns outstretched and their fingers on the triggers.

Nothing moved.

Sandwiching the cracked door, Dean held up three fingers and Sam nodded. Operating as one, Dean kicked in the door and Sam moved in, covering their backs as he swung this gun toward the corners of the room. The door rebounded against the opposite wall with a sharp crack, half falling off its hinges with the violence of the blow, and a muffled scream filled the room.

Sam really hoped that it was Maddie. Better screaming and scared than silent and still.

Swinging around, Sam's eyes tracked over the cabin, taking in its bare walls and dust-coated planks, the old beer bottles, and scraps of trash. His heart plummeted with relief when he caught sight of Maddie scrunched up against an old and sagging bed, still shrieking through the gag that had been shoved into her mouth. Her arms were tied behind her back, but besides the shallow gash on her forehead, she appeared to be in no immediate danger.

Dean lowered his gun, moving towards Maddie.

"It's us, stop screaming," he huffed gently as he touched her shoulder lightly before tilting her head up so that he could pull the gag out. Sam dropped down next to them, momentarily assured that no witch was going to pop up out of the corner to try and turn them into frogs, and reached for his knife.

Maddie gasped, coughing a little as Dean tossed the wadded-up cloth into the middle of the room.

"Agents…" she breathed out softly, a low sob replacing the screaming.

"You alright?" Sam asked anxiously, as he reached to undo her bonds, but she flinched back in sudden fear and Sam held his hands up, holding the knife loosely. Dean flashed her his 100-watt smile, clearly trying to put her at ease the only way he knew how.

She gulped in a breath, her eyes suddenly widening. "Emma! Do you have Emma with you?" Maddie's eyes traveled desperately from one to the other. "Where's Emma!?"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up." Dean raised a hand, glancing at Sam who could only shrug to show that he was just as confused as he was. "Who's Emma?"

Maddie took a shuddering breath, her whole frame shaking. "She's my friend, she was with me when…when that man took us and I don't know where she is, they took her and left me here, and—"She ducked her head again, hiding her face behind her hair and Dean and Sam shared ominous looks over her head.

"Maddie…I'm so sorry," Sam began but Maddie cut him off.

"She's not dead yet! At least she wasn't when they took her away from here. They said that they were going to take her, take her out to the Bench and prepare her for…" She trailed off, a strange look passing over her face and Sam twisted on his heels, out of instinct looking for a bucket or something as she gagged hard.

"Listen," Dean soothed, his hand still squeezing her shoulder tightly. "We're going to get you out of here and then go and find Emma, I promise you."

"No!" Maddie cowed back against the bed. "They left only an hour or so ago, she might still be alive if you go now." A tear splashed down her face, making a clear path through the dirt and grime. "Don't let her die, please… She's like my sister."

Dean straightened, his eyes going hard. "Where's this 'Bench' at? Is it a landmark, or…" Dean beckoned for the map and Sam passed it over, standing to peer over his shoulder.

"It's the flat top of the mountain," Maddie explained softly, the tears continuing to drip down her face.

Dean shared a glance with Sam. It wasn't far from them, maybe only half a mile, they could make it. In silent agreement, Dean began to fold the map up as Sam crouched back down.

"I'm gonna cut you free and give you my knife. Then start walking back until you either get to our car or find someone else to help you, but you've got to get out of here while we find Emma."

Maddie's eyes only filled with more tears as she continued to twist away from Sam. "Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone."

"But Emma—"

Maddie kept talking, overriding Dean. "And I think my ankle's broken. I can't walk and I don't want to stay here by myself. What happens if they come back for me? Or if they kill both of you? I'll die here!" Her voice continued to rise in a shrill pitch until she was rocking back and forth, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, pulling a long face before standing. "Sam, stay with Maddie. I'm gonna find Emma." He was halfway out the door before Sam caught up to him, grabbing his arm and twisting Dean around to face him.

"You're not going out there without me!" he hissed angrily, thrusting his face into Dean's. "We'll find someplace safe for Maddie to hide and then go back in, together."

Dean shook his head, wrenching his arm free. "There's no time, Sammy. If there's a chance that we can save Emma, then we've got to take it. I'm not letting someone else die, not when I have the chance to stop it."

"But—"

"Dude! What do you want me to say, that I'll be careful? I know what I'm doing."

"I know that Dean, I do, but this is a witch. They're not exactly easy to take care of, and you've been gung-ho to jump between danger and anything that breathes recently." Sam seized Dean's lapel as Dean once again attempted to leave and forced him back around so that he could meet his eyes.

"Alright, alright. I swear I won't do anything too stupid."

"Dean. This isn't a joke!"

Dean sighed tiredly. "Sam, we don't really have a choice, just get Maddie away from here as quickly as you can and then get your ass up there to meet me." He tugged his jacket free and paused for just long enough to slap Sam firmly on the shoulder before turning and jogging back towards the path.

Sam swore loudly, slamming his fist into the doorpost. It shifted dangerously and Sam flinched back in surprise. Damn ruins.

"Sam…"

Sam turned on his heel, hurrying back to Maddie's side and pulling his knife out again. There were still tear tracks on her face and he forced himself to offer what he hoped was a comforting smile. Kneeling beside her, he hunched over her much smaller frame and leaned over her shoulder, reaching for the rope that was wrapped around her wrists.

"Listen, we've got to move quickly. I'll get you some help, but then I've…" He stopped in bewilderment, his fingers slipping easily into the loose ropes that were simply wrapped around her wrist.

She could have escaped at any moment.

"What the—" The moment of confusion cost him as Maddie suddenly lurched upwards against him, smiling through her tears. A hand came up, wrapping in his shirt and yanking him down towards her.

Sam rolled back, scrambling to get away from Maddie but it was too late. Sudden and intense pressure erupted across his right side as with superhuman strength, Maddie slammed him down onto his back. The motion sent a shot of fierce pain straight through Sam's side, but Maddie clamped one hand over his mouth and his shout was stillborn.

She leered at him as she straddled his legs, keeping him pinned in the dirt.

Fighting to raise his head, Sam glowered silently at her before risking a glance down to his side and to where all the pain was coming from.

Maddie's hand was wrapped around the hilt of the knife that was sticking out of his side, the blade embedded deeply in his flesh.

"Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in…" Maddie purred, bending down to whisper into his ear. Her long hair waterfalled into his face, obscuring his vision.

Sam gagged out a sound, the pain coming faster and harder now that he'd seen Maddie's handiwork. His anger was just as hot. Grunting, he thrust his hips up, trying to buck her off but Maddie's hand flew down to the knife, twisting it cruelly. Agony flashed across Sam's whole body and he arched his back, trying to ride it out as Maddie giggled.

"Hurts, doesn't it, lovely?" She tightened her grip on the knife, catching Sam's eye as she smirked down at him.

"No, don't—"

Maddie wrenched the knife free, sending a warm gush of blood across Sam's skin and instantly soaking into his shirt.

"Smart, wasn't it, Sammy?" she asked, shifting so that her legs were pinning Sam's arms to the side. She held the knife lightly above him, allowing thick droplets of blood to drip lightly onto Sam's chest. "You big ol' hunks are always there to rescue the poor damsel in distress. You didn't even think twice."

Her grin turned lethal as she leaned in closer and closed her eyes. When she blinked them open, they were pure black.

Sam's heart rate spiked as a sudden rage surged through him. "I'm gonna send you straight back to hell, you piece of filth."

"Call me Maddie, sweetheart, no need to be so formal," she said silkily, blinking again to clear her eyes as she sat up straight and twirled her finger idly through the blood that was beginning to pool across Sam's saturated shirt. Sam threw his weight to the right, attempting to dislodge her, but she only tightened her thighs and slammed his shoulders back into the ground.

"Exocizamus te, omnis immundus spirits, omnis satanica—"

Maddie's smile faltered and then broke as anger flashed across her pretty features. Letting go of his shoulder, she dug her fingernails into Sam's wounded side and raked them back.

Sam jerked, his voice cutting off in an involuntary cry of pain as everything greyed out around him. He might have blacked for a moment even. All he knew was when everything stopped spinning, his legs had been bound and Maddie has tugged his wrists forward, wrapping the second length of rope around them.

Sam snorted weakly as she tugged the ropes tight enough to cut off his circulation. "What, you aren't going to kill me?"

Maddie stepped off his body, crouching near his head and looking around the cabin. Spotting the wad of material that had acted as a gag before, she darted for it. "Oh, no, I have something much more fun in store! I mean, it's the least I can do for you and your brother. The only reason I'm topside is because you opened that devil's gate."

"We didn't open it," Sam began, his annoyance rearing. Why did everyone think that they had opened it? They just hadn't been able to stop it, which wasn't much better. "We were just there." His voice cracked from pain at the last word and Maddie smiled lazily.

"That's not the story I'm hearing, your majesty." The sarcasm was clear and Sam grimaced up at her. She planted a fake smile on her face and held up the gag. "Now, open up."

Sam flinched back, tugging uselessly against his bonds as he shook his head. "Go to hell," he said through gritted teeth but her hand was already locking around his jaw, prying it open just enough that she could force the long strip of fabric through, effectively silencing him. Glaring up at her, Sam tried his hardest to throw every ounce of anger and rage into it.

Maddie just laughed, pushing a strand of her hair back and not looking phased at all when she left a long streak of blood in her wake. Picking her knife up off the floor, she began to wipe it clean. "I did wonder how long it would take for all those killings to bring in attention from the hunters but imagine my surprise when I saw the Winchesters, the bloody Winchesters of all people, drive into town. I was hoping for just your average, run-of-the-mill hunters, but I got the King instead. Not that you've lived up to your reputation thus far. What did you say you thought was killing people again? Oh, right, a witch? How adorable."

Finishing with the knife, she rose to her feet, towering over Sam. "And I'd love to tell you all about how this little game works, about how predictable all you stupid hunters are, but I've got to scram. See, there really is a girl named Emma and her meatsuit is calling my name." She paused, glancing back over at him and grinning so wide that he could see all her teeth. "I can't wait to see Dean's expression when we get back here and, after he finds you bleeding to death, I stab him in the back. Your face was pretty priceless, after all."

Sam reared up against his bonds, bucking against the rope with a fury that surprised even himself. If she so much as touched his brother, he was going to hunt down Ruby and do whatever it took to get her knife, just so that he could finish Maddie off for good.

Maddie seemed to guess well enough what he was thinking, and she crossed back over, bending down next to him. Weaving a hand through his hair to hold him still, she gave him a coy smile.

"And do you know what the best thing is? You won't be able to save him. You're just going to have to wait here, torturing yourself with the knowledge that his life is in my hands. And when he comes in, you're going to try your damn hardest to warn him but it's going to be too late. My knife will already be in his back. You are going to die with the knowledge that you got your brother killed. Oh, this is fun!" Her eyes flickered black again with nothing short of happiness and Sam's stomach churned. Most demons were evil, but this…this was pure insanity.

"Now try not to bleed out before the show starts. I'll be right back with dear old big brother, darlin'." She patted his cheek and stood.

Taking a step back, the demon threw her head back and Maddie let out a long, shrill, scream. Black smoke began to billow out of her mouth, jerking her slight frame, and Sam could do nothing more than look on in desperation as the smoke fled through one of the holes in the ceiling.

Maddie's body wavered, before dropping to the ground with a sickening thud.

Sam let his head fall back into the dirt, trying to blink away tears of pain as his wound continued to throb and his blood dripped steadily onto the ground.

They were so screwed.

Chapter Text

Damnit.

Sam repeated the curse thickly around the gag and twisted, rolling over onto his side. He froze, breathing heavily through his nose as the agony in his side flared hotly. A fresh spurt of blood accompanied the movement, seeping further into the waistband of his jeans before dribbling down and adding to the growing puddle on the floor.

Panting, Sam swallowed back a wave of nausea and tried once again to sit up. Without the use of his hands, he didn't have any leverage and he only made it about halfway before his arms gave out and he collapsed awkwardly back against the leg of the bed.

He had to get out of here, had to warn Dean...

With a grimace, Sam began to twist the ropes around his wrist but Maddie had known what she was doing. The fibers only dug deeper into the tender flesh, etching their mark, and the gag easily swallowed up each grunt and groan.

Come on! Sam's face contorted as his wound continued to throb with an intensity that took his breath away. However, the thought of Maddie, or Emma, or whatever the demon's name was shoving a knife through Dean's back was motivation enough. Sam knew firsthand, after all, just how much fun that was and he continued to saw at the rope, panting thickly.

A low moan from across the room brought Sam's head up with a jerk. His eyes widened with surprise as he saw Maddie shift weakly, her arm flopping against the ground before she went slack again.

"Maddie!" Sam tried to shout but only choked on his own spit. Coughing harshly, he couldn't stop the relief that blossomed through his chest.

She was alive, they hadn't gotten someone else killed.

"Maddie," he tried again just as uselessly, his voice muffled. Maddie groaned, one hand lazily dragging across the floor to clutch at her head.

Slowly, her head twisted towards him, and her eyes opening, squinted at Sam with confusion painted across her face.

"Wha…what happened?" she murmured, her fingers twisting in her hair as she looked over at him. "I don't…" she broke off with a whimper, her face going white. Sam jerked forward, only to be brought up short by the ropes.

Finally, she raised her head just enough to look at him quizzically until a light went on in her eyes.

"You're—you're from the FBI, aren't you? Your partner kept trying to get my phone number."

Sam nodded vigorously, gesturing with his head towards his bonds. The confusion on Maddie's face deepened but she did try and sit up, only to end up back on the floor in a heap. Sam lurched forward, but his own body protested the movement and he could do nothing more than listen to her soft yelp.

He knew only too well what it was like to wake up after being possessed.

After a moment, Maddie rolled onto her side and, gritting her teeth, began to drag herself across the ground toward where Sam was tied up. Her trembling fingers began to pick at the knotted ropes, but it was several minutes, and a few well-aimed curses later, that the knots slipped loose enough that Sam was able to wriggle his hands free.

Yanking the gag out, he tossed it over to the other side of the room.

"Maddie? Are you alright?" Sam grabbed her shoulders gently, steadying himself almost as much as her.

"I—I'm…I didn't have any control over my own body. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything," Maddie said dazedly, her eyes wide and face pale. "After my shift, I was going to the movies with Emma, we were just standing outside, talking, and then…" She swayed and brought a hand up to her mouth.

"Yeah, possessions a bitch like that. Do you think you can walk?" Sam released her shoulders and, taking a steadying breath, wrapped his arm firmly around his side to add pressure. Grunting, he slouched over in an attempt to compensate for the pain but didn't let up.

There was too much blood on the floor as it was, Dean would be freaking out.

"Possession? What do you mean by possession? Like someone brainwashed me or…?"

"No," Sam ground out, shifting his grip a little for more leverage. "Like demonic possession." Keeping one hand pressed against his side, he used his other to find the bedpost. Clenching it tightly, Sam heaved himself upright with one swift movement. For a moment, everything wavered as his legs threatened to give out, but Sam only staggered to the side, bracing himself against a wall.

"Demon? I don't—"

"Maddie, not to be rude, but right now both Emma and Dean are in trouble. I promise that I'll explain all this later but right now I've got to warn him. Can you walk?" Nausea bubbled low in the pit of his stomach and Sam swallowed nervously, closing his eyes for a moment to reorient himself.

Maddie took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Maybe if you help me?" Her voice was steadying, and Sam couldn't be more grateful. Grunting, he shifted so that he could brace himself against the bed and offered her his hand. Maddie took it, before flinching back, deep horror etching onto her face.

Her hand was stained a deep red.

"You're bleeding…!" Her face seemed to grow even paler as she took in his blood-stained clothes for the first time, the obvious pain on his face, and the sweat that was coating his skin.

Sam shook his head impatiently. "I'm fine. Just take my hand, let me help you." Hesitantly, she extended her hand but once again stopped. Sam wiggled his fingers and she slowly placed hers in his and together they attempted to leverage her upright.

With a cry of pain, Maddie fell back to the ground and crumpled onto her side, clutching at her ankle. Sam staggered forward, only stopping himself from going down with a desperate grab for the bedpost.

Well, the broken ankle was one thing that the demon hadn't been lying about.

Sam rubbed a dirty hand across his face as he stared down at Maddie. What were they going to do now?

Painstakingly lowering himself back to his knees, Sam silently caught her eye, asking for permission. She nodded once and slowly uncurled, allowing Sam to lightly probe the injured limb. She whimpered, her eyes closing as all the color leeched from her face.

"Yeah, that's broken." Sam sat back on his haunches, keeping one arm glued to his side as he braced the other against the bed, riding out a wave of vertigo. He needed to get to Dean, they never should have separated in the first place. "Maddie, do you think you can stay here? I've got to go warn my brother—"

"Your brother?"

"Not now, I'll explain everything later. We'll come back for you, I promise." Sam once again began to rise but Maddie reached out, snagging onto the hemline of his shirt as her face filled with terror.

"What if that thing comes back and possesses me again?" Her eyes were welling with tears but she blinked rapidly, fighting them back.

Reaching out, Sam squeezed her arm. "We're gonna kill the demon, alright?"

Maddie's hand latched more firmly around his arm. "I think, no, I know that I did evil things. I think I…I…" she trailed off, her eyes flickering to Sam's injured side. "Please. Don't let it come back to get me again."

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Holy water is like—ah, like a weapon against demons and it should keep it away if it comes back. What if I give you a flask of it? All you have to do is throw it in her face, but listen I've really got to go before…" before I pass out or Dean gets stabbed or really any other such stupid thing.

She nodded and Sam eased his hand down and into his pocket to pull out his flask. Maddie took it, her face looking a little green as she wiped the bloody handprints off with her shirt. "What about you? I put a knife in your side."

Sam instantly shook his head, his hand jumping to tighten around her wrist to get her attention. "You didn't, alright? The demon did. Big difference. And don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"But…you're bleeding. What about blood loss?"

Sam scoffed lightly even as he levered himself back upright and had to pause, letting a wave of dizziness wash over him. "You've seen too many movies. I'm not going to keel over from blood loss for a while. You've got to lose a lot more than this." He stepped away from the bed and almost went down. "My body is just adjusting," he amended with a self-deprecating smile.

"You sure?" Maddie sounded worried and Sam heaved a breath, pulling himself together.

"Yeah, I'm good." Giving her a small smile, Sam tucked his hand further into his shirt, adding pressure once more and trying not to notice just how much blood was pooling out of his side. He turned one last time, meeting Maddie's frightened eyes. "Throw that water on anybody who walks in, but try and use it sparingly. It's all we have till we can get back to the car."

Maddie nodded once, her face solemn as more tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Sam hurriedly turned and limped out the front door without looking back.

Dean was only about a half-mile away; he could do that. He had done more while seriously injured before, this would be a walk in the park, right?

Increasing pressure on his wound, Sam set off at a steady pace.

The path continued to climb, increasing at staggering rates the closer he got to the top of the mountain and Sam found himself panting once again, his pace slowing down rapidly the steeper the climb became. The path was zig-zagging back and forth, growing ever narrower and Sam found himself strangely grateful as he began to brace against the trees, pushing off one to stagger to the other.

Sweat was soon coating Sam's entire body and the exertion left him shaking and gasping. The air itself seemed to be growing thicker as the stitch in his side came back with a vengeance. Sam increased pressure on his wound, hoping that it would distract from it all.

It didn't, and it only made his side hurt worse.

Rounding a tight bend, Sam came to a stuttering halt as he found himself staring up a steep incline that was jutted with rocks and roots that were surely meant to be somewhat like foot and handholds. He wasn't going to be able…no, he had to. Shaking his head, Sam leaned against the nearest tree for a moment before determinedly moving forward. He just had to keep going. That was all he had to do, just put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

Halfway up, Sam came to a halt, doubling over as his air came out in a pained wheeze, and light danced in front of his eyes. His stomach churned and he braced his hand against the ground as a sudden wave of cold crashed over him that was chased away just as quickly by the feeling of being overheated. Blood pushed up against his hand, vying for freedom. Pulling in a deep breath, he leaned his head against the cool bark of a tree, trying to ground himself.

It didn't work and, leaning over, he threw up what little was in his stomach.

Spitting once, Sam coughed on the sour taste of vomit and squeezed his eyes shut. He allowed himself a short grunt of pain to escape before reigning it all back in and pulling in one steadying breath after the other. Dean needed him and Dean had already given so much—

Pushing all thoughts of Dean's deal away, Sam weakly shoved himself back upright and lunged up the last few steps to a more level part of the path. The lightheadedness still managed to take him by surprise, and Sam stumbled forward, collapsing against a tree in an effort not to tumble backward.

Sam wasn't going to let Dean die today.

Sam wasn't going to let him die period.

Bending over, Sam took several precious moments to bring his breathing back to normal, or as normal as it was going to get, and to ground himself. Slowly, the feelings of nausea dimmed and the blurriness of his vision faded.

He could do this.

Pushing off the tree, Sam continued at a more normal pace. Surely the Bench was getting close? He had been hiking for—

A noise ahead of him on the path had Sam melting back into the shadows of a nearby tree. Letting it take most of his weight, he huddled close and strained his ears. Voices, those were voices he could hear…something about a witch and a car. Relief bubbled up through him so fast that Sam thought he was going to up and just pass out.

That was Dean's voice. He was still alive.

Wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve, Sam inched forward a little, peeking around the tree. Now he just had to warn Dean that the young woman who was probably hanging off his arm wasn't who she said that she was, but rather a demon intent on killing them all.

For a moment he considered drawing a devil's trap, but that wasn't practical. They were too close, and Sam wasn't moving fast enough. No, he needed—he needed to sit down but he locked his knees.

Dean and the demon were zigzagging tightly back and forth, their voices growing and fading in accordance. He was rapidly running out of time, it was just going to have to be quick and dirty.

Shifting, he stifled a grunt against the pain in his gut and froze as the voices faltered. Knowing Dean, he was likely shoving whom he thought was Emma behind him and out of the way, probably even drawing his gun and sighting it directly in Sam's direction.

Sam really hoped that Dean wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later because his brother's aim was damn good, and he didn't want to think about what Dean would do a second time to save him.

Easing back a little more behind the tree, Sam slid his own gun free from the waistband of his jeans. It wouldn't stop Emma, but it might buy him time to get Dean to safety.

And it wasn't like he could just call out to Dean either because the demon might just make good on her promise and stab him in the back. No, he had to wait for them to get closer.

Peeking around the branches, Sam could see Dean creeping through the trees, gun raised and shielding a pale-faced girl. Dean's gaze was trained unnervingly in Sam's direction and Sam was once again reminded of why other hunters admired his brother. Dean wasn't going to get close enough that Sam could pull him aside, he was too good for that.

Taking a deep breath, Sam prayed silently that this would work before rolling out from behind the tree.

"DON'T SHOOT!" Bringing his own gun up, he pointed it straight at Emma's heart before shifting up towards her shoulder but didn't fire yet, his brother was still in the way. Dean's eyes widened and he yanked his own gun to the side a second before it went off, putting a bullet into the tree next to Sam's head. His stance dropped just enough that Sam had a clear view of Emma.

Without hesitation, he fired.

Emma staggered back, the force of the bullet digging into her shoulder and sending her spinning around. Dean leaped back in surprise, his gun swinging around to hesitantly aim at Emma even as he glanced sideways at Sam.

"What the hell, dude?" he growled, his eyes darting back and forth between him and Emma.

"Get away from her, she's a demon, Dean." Sam staggered forward, keeping his gun steadier than his feet, and fisted a handful of Dean's shirt, yanking him back and further away from Emma.

She remained still on the ground, a steady pool of crimson gathering beneath her, and Dean gave him a long, searching, look.

"Are you sure? 'Cause you really had better be sure!" Dean shifted forward uneasily, freeing himself from Sam's grasp. "Emma?"

"Dean, no, she wants to kill you, she—" Sam tried to intercept his brother but Dean shook him off easily as he dropped the duffle bag, sifting through it for his own flask of holy water.

Glancing back at his brother, Dean had to do a double-take, finally noticing the amount of blood that was covering Sam. "That yours?" he barked, standing up straight and grabbing Sam's arm. It was Sam's turn to pull away as he gestured wildly at Emma.

"Her first, we've got to send her back to hell."

Dean didn't look convinced, but all the same, he turned back. "You're sure it's a demon?"

Emma still hadn't moved and Sam had the sudden and horrible thought that maybe the demon wasn't in Emma after all, but perhaps in some poor innocent hiker. What if he had just shot the victim? Dean would be beyond pissed, not that Sam would blame him.

Dean edged closer to the still body, water held at the ready. Throwing a concerned look over his shoulder, he shrugged and was in the process of tossing it over Emma when she suddenly came to life and lunged at him.

The knife in her hands was aimed straight at Dean's heart.

The water sizzled as it made contact, but this did nothing to hinder Emma. Dean had been half-prepared for the attack, however, and lurched backward.

"WHAT THE—" Rolling to the side, he just missed getting knifed as it slammed down inches away from his chest. Sam was already firing and, while the bullets didn't stop her, they slowed her just enough that Dean was able to swing the contents of the flask toward her face.

Emma shrieked, staggering to the side and attempting to get the burning water off her body. Flinging another round at her, Dean hurriedly scrambled to his feet and placed himself in front of Sam. Throwing back an arm against his brother's chest, Dean pushed him back several steps.

"What the hell?" Dean spat, holding up the container defensively.

"Yeah, what the hell, Sammy?" Emma sneered, her voice higher in Emma's body than it had been in Maddie's. "How'd you get out of those ropes, huh? And why'd you go and ruin all my hard work? Do you know how freaking long it took me to set that all up? We were just getting to the good part."

Dean shifted, planting his body more firmly in front of Sam. Vicious anger darkened his voice. "What do you want?" He raised the water threateningly as she came closer and Emma huffed, her eyes flickering to pure black for just a moment.

"Aw, Dean, don't get all antsy now. I was just trying to have a bit of fun. You like girls with a fun side, don't you?" she pouted, twirling her knife expertly between her fingers.

"You bitch," Dean swore softly and Emma flattened one hand against her chest.

"That hurts, Dean-o. I thought we were really connecting back there, but I can see that it was all for naught. You men are all the same, only here for one thing."

Dean's lip twitched upwards in a snarl. "At least I get what I want," he retorted in a deceptively calm voice. "Now, Sam, if you will do us the pleasure."

Sam snorted but started in on the exorcism in rushed Latin. Emma took a step back, struggling to maintain her smile as her body jerked forward once. Her head snapped towards Sam.

"Shut up. SHUT UP!" Her eyes flashed black and she threw her hands out toward Dean.

Dean went flying and Sam stumbled mid-sentence when his brother hit a tree and didn't get up again. Rounding on Emma with a new fury, he continued to spit out the Latin but he barely had time to take a step forward before he too was flung to the side. The ground rushed up to meet him with an eagerness that he did not share and everything went grey.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, Sam heaved himself over onto his side, rolling upright. A warm gush of blood followed his actions but Sam had eyes only for Emma who was staring between the two downed brothers, her arms outstretched.

She met Sam's eyes and smirked.

"Don't you dare," Sam struggled to stand up as Emma turned her hungry gaze towards Dean, who was only just beginning to stir. To his great surprise, Emma paused, her gaze jumping back towards Sam whose knees were having trouble supporting his weight.

"Come on! Come and get me," he growled under his breath. His knees hit the ground with a thud and he threw out a hand, using it to support himself while trying to pretend that his arms weren't trembling. The knife was clutched loosely in her hand as she advanced and Sam braced himself, staring up at her.

To his surprise, she crouched next to him, her arms draped loosely over her knees. "This is so anticlimactic."

"Excuse me?" Sam thought for a moment that he had misheard, his foggy brain playing tricks on his ears.

Emma snorted. "Do you know how long I have been waiting to break free of hell? Been planning this, my revenge on hunters? If I kill you now, you die together and, what's that phrase you heroes so adore, oh, for the greater good. There's no beauty in it. I guess I could just kill one of you, but…everyone knows the rumors of the Winchesters. No, that wouldn't do." She screwed up her face, thinking, and Sam leaned as far away from her as he could.

"You're completely insane, even for a demon." Sam glanced over his shoulder and felt a trickle of relief. Dean was forcing himself upright, looking only slightly shaky as he looked around, presumably for the holy water.

"Hmm," Emma murmured, not even listening to him as she stood, tapping the knife against her thigh rhythmically.

Sam pushed himself a little more upright, mind whirling through possible attempts for diversion. He just needed to keep her busy for a little longer…

"You could just…just…" Sam shook his head, reeling as a wave of lightheadedness took him by surprise. Wrapping an arm tighter around his waist, he was forced to hunch over, panting around the pain. Emma's lips twitched upwards in a smile as she watched him struggle and she leaned in, hooking a finger under his chin. Sam's words stuttered to a halt and he pulled back

"You're adorable." She leaned further in and Sam yanked his face to the side, breathing harshly. Emma pressed in closer until her mouth was right up against Sam's ear. "I bet you that I can get Dean to leave you behind."

Sam swallowed hard, feeling vaguely dirty at her touch even as he dug his fingers into the dirt to keep himself upright. "You don't—don't know him at all then. He would rather die."

She pulled back just enough to look Sam in the eye. "Fine, then I bet that you get him killed because he won't leave you behind. He'll be dead this time tomorrow, double or nothing, whaddya say?"

"Go. to. hell." Sam leaned in, thrusting his face into hers but she stood, her eyes glittering with excitement.

"To make it more interesting, I'll even give you, oh, three hours? Yeah, you can have a three-hour head start to try and escape, 'cause I'm nice like that. But I'll find you. And then I'll hunt you both down and in the end, you will watch helplessly as I—" Emma screamed, rearing back as Dean upended the holy water over her.

Twirling around, she threw back her head and thick black smoke began to pour from her mouth. Dean swore, backing up to stand next to Sam as Emma's body convulsed before buckling and falling to the ground as the demon fled.

They shared a dark look, but Sam had to drop his gaze as the world spun around him. Tightening his grip on the ground, he concentrated on breathing and not making a fool out of himself. Dean was a blur of colors as he crouched next to him, his hand warm against his shoulder as he pushed him upright.

"Sam? You with me?"

Sam nodded once, not trusting himself to speak and Dean began to tug at his shirt in an attempt to see where the blood was coming from.

"How bad is it?" he asked gruffly, the concern thinly veiled as Sam tried to push his hands away.

"It's not, but you should check Emma, she might still be alive…" he insisted and Dean glanced behind him, his face contorting quickly as concern warred with compassion before he pushed Sam gently over onto his back.

"Put pressure on it," he insisted roughly, handing over a handkerchief. Sam took it, easing it between his arm and the wound before clamping down. He rolled his head to the side, watching as Dean bent over Emma, checking her pulse. The slump of Dean's shoulders gave it away and Sam's heart dropped.

She hadn't deserved that. Emma hadn't deserved this ending at all.

Dean closed her eyes with a tenderness that many people didn't get to see in his brother, but when Dean returned to his side, his game face was set.

"Lemma look," he demanded and this time Sam allowed Dean to peel back the blood-soaked shirt. Sam rolled his head to the side, hazily watching as the color leeched off Dean's face.

"It looks worse than it is," Sam tried again but Dean only shot him an angry glare before he bent closer, gently probing the wound. Sam sucked in a breath, counting backward from ten.

"You have a freaking hole in your body, you don't get to pass judgment because you know what, this is bad. This is way worse than you were letting on, man." Dean bent lower, continuing the torture.

"Well, we didn't exactly have time to trade notes. Next time, I'll just ask the demon to pause her attack so that I can tell you how badly I'm injured." Sam's snort morphed into a sharp groan, but Dean didn't apologize. Sam reached out, flapping a hand against Dean's arm to regain some of his attention.

It was only then that Dean looked up at him, pulling back his hands. "You need me to stop?"

"No, no, that's not…" Sam paused, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. Damn blood loss. "Emma—that demon—isn't going to let us off the mountain, she's still hunting us."

"Well, I didn't exactly figure that she was going to start handing out lollipops and beer."

"No, like, she put us straight in the middle of some messed up revenge fantasy of hers. We've got three hours to get off this mountain before she hunts us down."

"Sam, we'll worry about her in a moment, okay? Just stay still and stop wriggling around so much." Dean stood, looking around for the forgotten duffle bag and dragging it closer as he pulled out the first-aid kit. Sam was already shaking his head, attempting to push himself upright.

"Dean, no, we need to move. Three hours isn't a lot of time and that demon—"

"Isn't our biggest concern right now. What we need is for you to stop leaking," Dean countered, pressing his forearm lightly against Sam's chest to keep him down. "Now, tell me what happened because the last time I saw you, you were helping a pretty girl back to the car, not getting yourself stabbed."

Sam stilled under Dean's dark gaze, relaxing into the dirt when Dean continued to add pressure. Finally, shaking his head with self-ridicule, he opened his mouth. "The demon was in Maddie and I just didn't see it coming. One minute I was cutting her free, the next I had a knife in me."

"Kinky." The words didn't come off quite so well soaked in concern and Sam reached out, latching on to Dean's arm to draw his attention.

"Dude, I'm fine," he repeated softly and Dean spared him a stiff nod as he unscrewed the small bottle of hydroxide.

"We've got to end this, we're already down two casualties—"

"Dean, Maddie's alive," Sam broke his brother off again and Dean's head snapped up.

"She's alive? What the hell are you doing up here then, why aren't you helping her?"

Sam rolled his eyes halfheartedly. "Cause I kind of like having you for a brother, Dean. That demon was gonna stab you in the back, literally, and Maddie was injured… I didn't have a choice."

"Well, all the same, that changes things. We are going to have to sidetrack back over to get her, not that I'm complaining. I'm glad that she's alive." Dean shook his head, turning back to the bottle he was holding and gritting his teeth.

"This is gonna suck," he warned, bracing one hand against Sam's shoulder to hold him steady. Sam grunted in agreement and threw an arm over his face, squeezing his fist shut. Without giving him any further warning, Dean upended the bottle over the still-seeping wound.

Sam clenched his jaw, his back arching off the ground as a garbled groan was torn from his throat. His chest stilled and his jaw worked as his muscles clenched with the effort of riding out the wave of spiking agony.

"Take a breath, Sammy. C'mon, buddy, you've been doing it since the day you were born," Dean ordered lightly as Sam wheezed raggedly, coughing harshly on the incoming air. Dean recapped the bottle, tossing it back into the first-aid kit, he pressed his other hand against Sam's chest. "Dude, look at me. C'mon. Don't pass out like some wuss."

Sam managed a stiff glare as he continued to gasp, struggling to get ahold of the pain that had him grinding his heels into the dirt, desperate for some form of relief. "'m not gonna pass ou'," he managed to get out.

"Right…" Dean didn't sound convinced and Sam didn't blame him as dark spots began to dance in front of his eyes and his brother's voice began to take on a dream-like quality, all fuzzy and slightly slurred together.

"Hey, hey, dude, don't do this." Dean's opened-handed slap was a shock and Sam sucked air in surprise and suddenly everything came rushing back in. Dean was bending over him, the worry instantly hiding behind a smile as Sam began to take in steadier gulps of air.

"Sorry," Sam rasped, letting his head roll back as the pain receded slowly. Dean retreated, gathering up the roll of gauze.

"Just don't go checking out on me just yet. We've got a psycho demon running around in who knows whose meat suit and you're the one who likes that kind of thing. Geek." The insult was used fondly, and Sam smiled. Dean continued to work on binding the wound.

At last, he sat back, watching for a moment to make sure that the white didn't turn red, before smoothing Sam's shirts back down.

Patting Sam's stomach to declare that he was finished, Dean began to repack their meager supplies. His fingers skimmed the painkillers and he held up the bottle in a silent question but Sam immediately shook his head and Dean dropped them back in with a sigh.

"It's gonna suck," he warned but Sam wasn't shifting on this particular issue. He'd be fine, it was just a little bit of pain.

Dean stood in one smooth movement and pointed a finger down into Sam's face. "All the same, that wound really should have been stitched so just try not to do any fancy dance moves. If that reopens, then I will kick your ass into next week, understood?"

Sam huffed, slowly curling an arm protectively around his middle. "Yeah, easy, just going to hike down a mountain and fight off a demon. Just another day at work for us."

Dean flicked some of the unused gauze at Sam's chest. "Stop being sassy, it's annoying on you." The moment of levity was gone as quickly as it had come and his face fell serious as he surveyed the mountain around them and began to pace, thinking. Sam rolled onto his side, earning himself a sharp glare from Dean and a hot jolt of pain. Grimacing, he shoved an elbow under himself and pushed up into a sitting position.

A wave of dizziness washed over him and Sam threw out his hand, bracing himself as he rode it out. Dean was watching him worriedly when he opened his eyes, though he immediately turned his head, resuming the slow pacing as he worked through his thoughts.

Sam let him, content to just sit for a moment and let his body adjust.

Dean finally turned, the frown still on his face. "Alright, here's the plan, which isn't much of one currently. I was trying to decide if it was going to be quicker to cut cross country back to the cabin, or use the path, but…" he gestured limply at Sam's side and Sam felt his face flush.

"I can manage it," he insisted but Dean was already shaking his head.

"You look like you are about to puke or something just as glamorous and taking the path is just a risk that we are going to have to take. We'll see what condition Maddie is in and then we'll go from there, okay?"

Dean extended his hand and Sam took it while cinching his right arm tight against his belly. With a silent count of three, Dean heaved him to his feet and looped an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady when Sam stumbled.

"You're good, you're good, just ride it out…"

Sam pulled in a heavy breath and closed his eyes, willing the dizziness away as his knees wobbled. "I'm alright," he insisted, pushing away from Dean. Dean continued to hold onto him warily, his eyebrows coming together in concentration but Sam shook his head. Pulling his hands away slowly, Dean waited, making sure that Sam wasn't going to fall flat on his face before letting go completely.

"Glad we are in agreement. You sure you feel okay? No excessive dizziness or sharp, jabbing, pains…?"

"All I feel is underprepared. Damn, I wish that we thought to bring more salt or holy water with us."

"Yeah, well, witches and demons don't die the same way." Dean fell into step just behind Sam, his arm still outstretched just in case he stumbled as they began unsteadily down the pathway. Dean kept his eyes on Sam more than on the ground, his hand snaking out now and then to lightly brace his arm or back.

"I'm okay!" Sam finally snapped and Dean backed off a step, his hands held up in surrender.

"Just trying to be helpful, dude."

"I know, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Dean offered a small smile that Sam returned half-heartedly because yeah if anyone got it, it was Dean.

Chapter Text

Dean couldn't help the anxious glances he kept sending Sam out of the corner of his eye. The hike back was mostly downhill and a light breeze was drifting over them, yet Sam was sweating bullets and looked positively grey.

It's the adrenaline crash, Dean's mind supplied helpfully, and he drifted closer, ready to tuck a hand under an elbow or around his waist at a moment's notice.

They needed to get Sam out of here and to the hospital, or at the very least to a motel room and their more extensive first-aid kit.

"We're get'in' close, right?" Sam mumbled softly, brushing his damp hair off his forehead and resting the back of his hand against it as he swallowed convulsively.

"Yeah, dude, just around the corner I think." Dean's hand flashed out, knotting in the back of Sam's jacket as he lilted to the side. Damn adrenaline crashes, Sam had been doing so good until things had calmed down… Hell, he had climbed up the side of a mountain just to warn Dean.

"Told Maddie that we were coming back, that the demon wouldn't attack her again," Sam shifted his hand just enough to meet Dean's eyes. "What if…"

"I doubt Emma even thought about Maddie still being alive, much less going back for her," Dean assured, but Sam still looked troubled and Dean's grip changed from supportive to comforting. "Whatever is there, we'll take care of it, okay? One way or the other."

Sam nodded jerkily, steeling his shoulders. "We go in toget'er, thoug'."

Dean hesitated and Sam came to a stop, giving him a pointed look that even the glaze in his eyes couldn't interfere with. "Together, Dean."

"Hey! I wasn't the one who went and added a new hole to my body when left to my own devices."

Sam's glare intensified and Dean kicked out at a lone rock, sending it scattering down the mountain path. "Alright, alright. We go in together or not at all, happy?"

Sam nodded, his shoulders relaxing and head dipping towards his chest as Dean grumbled something vaguely unpleasant. They rounded the corner and sure enough, sitting off to the side looking as run down and abandoned as ever stood the cabin.

"Birds are still chirping," Dean muttered, edging closer to Sam as he shifted his flask from hand to hand.

Sam only nodded, looking too worn out to complete the thought. Creatures were sometimes the best alarm system to the supernatural and they had been trained from a young age to pay attention to them.

The door was still open a jar from when Sam had left and Dean swiftly moved in front of his brother, taking point as he eased the door open.

Maddie was curled up in a ball on the floor, Sam's silver flask of holy water clutched to her chest. Again, he would take that as a good sign that the demon hadn't repossessed her, but then again Emma had played possum one time too many for him to feel completely safe.

Pulling out his own flask, Dean crept through the doorway, careful to stay an arm's reach away. Maddie's head shot up, her eyes going wide and terrified as she fumbled to unscrew the lid on the flask.

"Stay away!" Back up!" Her voice was shrill as she scrambled back, dragging her bad leg with her.

"Woah, hold up, Maddie, it's just me, I swear." Dean moved back a step, holding up his hands. "Well, me and Sam but that's a good thing 'cause the demon can't possess two people at once." He grinned lightly at her. Sam waved a hand limply from where he was hunched over against the doorframe. He gave her a reassuring smile, but it faltered as quickly as it had come as pain darkened his face.

Maddie's eyes remained hard with distrust. "You could be lying."

"Lying? C'mon, sonofa—" Dean broke off, forcing himself to remain patient. "How about this? I toss water on you, you return the favor. If everyone passes the test, then we can all hold hands and sing Kumbaya."

Maddie glanced up at him, distrust and fear warring on her face before she nodded. Taking a step forward, Dean sprinkled a small amount on Maddie's hand even as she flung a full arc of water toward Dean.

Nothing happened and both their shoulders dropped simultaneously as Dean wiped at his face.

"Now him," Maddie demanded, jerking her head towards Sam who had edged far enough into the room to lean against an old rickety table that looked like it was about to give under his weight.

"Would you believe me if I told you that that is one hundred percent Sam, no demon?" Dean asked, tugging the flask from her and tucking it into his pocket for safekeeping. Maddie's eyes went wide with fear and Dean sighed heavily.

Grabbing the holy water, he dipped his fingers in it and pressed them against the exposed skin on Sam's wrist. Nothing.

Maddie collapsed back to the ground, wiping shaking hands across her face before pressing them over her mouth, just suppressing a sob.

"Hey…" Dean said a little uncomfortably, "Don't—don't cry."

Sam grunted next to him, his knuckles turning white against the table as he closed his eyes. Dean swiveled, dropping the flask in exchange for wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders. Letting him lean his full weight against him, Dean's free hand jumped up to Sam's pulse point.

Sam's heart was racing, further confirming his worry from earlier.

"You're not gonna pass out on me here, are you, Sam?" Dean tightened his grip, feeling the first dregs of panic racing through his system. This whole situation was rapidly spiraling out of his control and they weren't even close to seeing it through.

"Maybe," Sam mumbled, giving Dean another one of his half-smiles, and Dean's stomach churned.

"Alright. Uh…" Dean glanced from the crying girl on the floor to Sam and shook his head. First things first, they needed to take a minute, reorganize and figure out a plan and Sam didn't need to be vertical or aware for either of those things. "Think that bed will hold the weight of a Sasquatch?"

Sam snorted, his fingers spasming against the wood and Dean ducked under his arm, pulling him away and towards the ratted old thing. "We're going down on three," he instructed and together they dropped towards the musty coverings. Sam hit the bed with a low keen, his eyes screwing up as he doubled over and Dean took the opportunity to push him over onto his side and then pulled him down low enough so that he could elevate his feet on the frame of the bed. It didn't look comfortable, but he doubted that Sam cared about that right now.

"Sorry," Sam's voice was soft and Dean scoffed, slapping his calf lightly in rebuke. Taking a step back, he shrugged out of his jacket and flicked it over Sam's shoulders, tucking it in around him.

"Rest for a moment, I'll figure it out," Dean said quietly, cupping Sam's face and patting his cheek affectionately. Sam could only nod, looking moments away from unconsciousness.

Maddie was still crying on the floor and Dean crouched down next to her. "Sam said that your ankle is busted?" He was already extending her leg and gently palpitating around the obviously swollen limb. She gasped sharply, breathing in and out through her nose as he worked. Shaking his head in frustration, Dean reached across to their already limited first-aid and began to unravel some of the ace bandages.

"This will help brace it, but I'm not going to lie, it's bad and there's not much I can do for you but give you some painkillers." Dean extended two tablets and she took them before curling back up on the ground.

"I shouldn't have talked to you at the diner. I knew you looked like trouble," she muttered under her breath and Dean shrugged.

"Probably, but what's done is done. We're going to get you out of here and then everything will go back to normal."

"Yeah. Normal."

"You'll live to tell the tale," Dean said gruffly as he finished bandaging her ankle and sat back, glancing at the door. How the hell was he going to get them all back in one piece? For a moment the weight threatened to drag him to the ground but then Sam's arm flopped against his shoulder and Dean turned, looking quizzically at him. Sam's eyes had slipped closed, but he rolled his head towards him.

"What?" Dean asked forcefully.

"How are our supplies looking?"

Dean blinked in surprise at the question but tugged his duffle closer, taking a quick inventory as he shifted nearer to Sam, subconsciously holding the conversation between just the two of them. "We've got a lot of useless weapons, two and a half bottles of water. Half a canister of salt and enough holy water to satisfy a craving. So basically we are screwed."

"Yeah," Sam huffed, his brow furrowing as he thought.

Dean sat back a little on his heels, leaning against the bed as he kept the doorway in view. "I'd kill for Ruby's knife right about now, but…hey, do you think Emma was serious when she said that she was going to give us three hours, well, two hours and… twenty-eight minutes."

"Yeah, actually, I do." Sam paused, his face paling a little as he shifted. "Ah, 'cause we know she's crazy but she also has this all played out in her head and it's a game to her. She's not going to break the rules of her own game."

Dean nodded once, his eyes traveling back to Maddie who was watching them with wide eyes.

"Hey, you still got that map?" Dean swiveled back to Sam, already pushing his jacket aside and very carefully digging through Sam's. He pulled it out, grimacing at the wet splotches from where Sam's blood had soaked through the pocket. Laying it out on the floor, he glanced once at Maddie but spoke loudly enough that Sam knew he was included in it.

"You should get some sleep or at least rest. We are going to have to move fast once we leave and there won't be time for it then. I'll figure something out in the meantime."

#

When Dean had asked—ordered—for both Sam and Maddie to rest, Sam hadn't actually meant to do so, but he was growing increasingly dizzy, and keeping his eyes open was just making it worse. The next thing that he knew, Dean's hand was against his shoulder and his voice soft as he shook him awake.

"Sammy?"

"'m up," Sam pushed Dean's hand away, prying his eyes open. The constant throb of pain greeted him, but at least the dizziness and nausea had abated somewhat. His head felt clearer as well. Dean was watching him with a critical eye, but something seemed to ease in his face a little and he stepped back.

"You look better," he said decisively as he reclaimed his jacket and tightened the straps on the duffle. "Ready for the race off Demon Mountain?"

"What?" Maddie spoke up in confusion from where she was sitting, propped up against the wall. The shadows under her eyes were more pronounced than Sam had remembered, and guilt stirred in his gut, she never should have been dragged into this.

"Race to Witch Mountain? It's a Disney… never mind," Dean waved a hand before turning to Sam.

"We've got about an hour—"

"An hour?!" Sam sat straight up and instantly regretted the movement as white-hot agony coursed through his whole body. His face was pressed against Dean's chest when he resurfaced and his brother's arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Sam pushed away, moving more slowly this time. Dean let him go, watching carefully even as something twitched in his jaw.

"Don't do that," he snapped but Sam was already shaking his head, his own anger rising.

"You let me sleep for over an hour? Dean, that was a third of the time that we had. We could have left ages ago!"

"Yeah, well, I figured it was a better use of our time to let you regain your strength. I can't carry both of you, so I need you up and on your feet, man." Dean glanced over at Maddie, offering her a tight smile, "and you are a hell of a lot heavier than Maddie, so there is that."

"But—"

"Oh, don't get your panties into a twist. We wouldn't have been able to get off the mountain in three hours anyway. Hell, I'm not even sure that we should be leaving in the first place. You just about passed out after sitting up."

Sam's anger was gone as quickly as it came as he took in the lines on Dean's face and the ones that said he was once again bearing the weight of the world. "Don't worry, I just moved too fast. It won't happen again."

"Oh yeah, don't worry," Dean mimicked before rolling his eyes. "How about we see if you can even stand and we'll go from there."

For once, it was easier done than said and Sam found that if he didn't move too fast that he was able to move about. At any rate, it was a far cry from how he'd felt an hour ago, and, as much as he hated to admit it, the time had probably been well spent.

Bracing one hand lightly against the wall just as a precaution, Sam began to make his way toward the door as Dean bent down next to Maddie.

She looped an arm around Dean's neck. "Just don't get any romantic ideas, I'm still not giving you my number when this is over."

Dean's smirk was positively primitive. "Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he said lightly, but his hands were as non-invasive as possible as he scooped her up into his arms bridal style.

Sam pushed the door open, holding it for Dean, before trailing after him.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Currently?" Dean grunted a little, shifting Maddie into a more stable position and wincing as she gasped. "Remember how the path split about a quarter of a mile down from here? The one that we didn't take, that one connects with the river, which shouldn't be going near as fast or as high as it is at the bridge."

"And then we might be able to lose her if use the river to disguise our tracks and then cut back cross country." Sam caught on instantly and Dean's lip twitched upward as the warmth of what looked like pride flooded his face.

"Don't act surprised, you're the one that has been teaching me tactics like this since I was, like, ten."

Dean grinned. "And you were a complete pain. Kept trying to tell me about battles strategies they used in Lord of the Rings or some other such nonsense." Sam laughed, remembering vaguely the moment his brother was speaking of and how the night had ended with him in a headlock.

When he glanced back at Dean, his brother wasn't smiling anymore, looking almost apologetic instead. "Here's the deal, though, it would be nice to reach the bridge before the hour is over. That way we have a fresh start. I probably should have woken you sooner, cause we are going to have to move at a decent pace"

Sam was already nodding in agreement, once again understanding what his brother was asking of him. "I'll keep up," he assured and Dean grimly picked up the pace.

#

Sam clenched his arm tighter to his side and tried his hardest to ignore the jabs of white-hot pain that every step sent through his gut. Getting stabbed in the stomach was no picnic, but it wasn't like he had hadn't had worse before. At least he was able to breathe, that was a nice bonus.

Dean paused just ahead of him, glancing back to make sure that Sam was still behind him…like he would be anywhere else. Deep lines had engravened themselves near Dean's eyes, but somehow Sam doubted that it had to do with Maddie's weight and everything with Sam's pained grunts.

Sam nodded shortly in response and Dean cocked an eyebrow silently, his eyes going stony with concern at whatever he saw.

"How much time is left?" Sam asked, breaking Dean's train of thought and trying to aim them somewhere more positive, not that they had a lot of choices in that matter. Dean glanced down at his watch.

"About fifteen minutes," he answered lightly. "But we should be getting close."

Grunting, Sam gritted his teeth as he swallowed back another wave of nausea. It wasn't bad, just enough to make everything all that more miserable. And least he didn't feel as bad as he had right before they had reached the cabin. He wasn't about to pass out. That was an upside, right?

Dean's face screwed up again and Sam trained his gaze forward, focusing on the path and the small dips or rocks in the uneven surface. Slowly, the sounds of rushing water reached his ears and a mixture of relief and dread flooded him. Relief that they were going to be able to leave the path, but at the same time, they were going to leave the path.

Sam was barely keeping up as it was…

"Stop thinking so hard, Sam," Dean called back and Sam shot him another glare, annoyed to no end that Dean could still seemingly read his mind so easily. Dean didn't slow his hurried steps as he half turned, looking at his brother. "Seriously, we're gonna be fine."

Sam huffed, trying to blow his bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah, it's not like we've got a murderous demon on our tail or anything." He dully regretted the words, but his side was really hurting and Dean was setting a killer pace.

His breath was punching in and out of him, forcing Sam to blink through the sweat that was dripping down his hair and into his eyes. At least they were going downhill. The dull sound of the river was becoming clearer and once they got into the water, he would be cooled down.

The river was flowly rapidly downstream when they finally came upon it and it was with no small relief that Sam bumped up against a nearby tree, sweating and shaking as he tried to catch his breath. Dean was staring at him, he could feel it.

"I'm fine," he panted, pushing his bangs up and attempting to wipe the worst of the sweat off his face.

"Yeah, you're just peachy." Dean was closer than he remembered when Sam looked up, and the strain on Dean's face and the sweat patterns that were beginning to darken his shirt became clear.

Huh. At least he hadn't been the only one pushing himself.

Bowing his head, Sam braced a hand against his hip and focused on breathing for a minute. Dean gave it to him and leaned his own back against a nearby tree, studying the river.

"The hour was up about five minutes ago. Are you good...?" Dean asked softly and Sam nodded in recognition as he straightened, looking away from Dean's eyes as embarrassment flooded him.

"Just maybe if we take it a little slower with the river." Sam dared a glance at Dean, only to find his shoulders relaxing a little.

"We'll slow down," he agreed, straightening with an anxious glance over his shoulder. They needed every minute that they could gain if they had any hope of staying in front of Emma, of beating her back to the bridge and the car.

Dean could make it to the car in about half the time if he wasn't keeping up with two invalids.

Fine, then I bet that you get him killed because he won't leave you behind. He'll be dead this time tomorrow, double or nothing, whaddya say? The demon's words rang hauntingly through his head and Sam stared at Dean's back for a long moment.

"You could, ya know, just—"

"No, Sam," Dean was instantly shaking his head, his eyes growing dark as his uncanny ability to read his brother come forth. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"But—"

"I don't even want to hear it, alright?" Dean was practically growling the last few words and Sam backed down, recognizing the fear and concern that were thinly veiled. Both of them took deep breaths, pushing emotions into the background.

"If we're gonna go, let's do it," Dean pushed off from his tree, waiting for Sam to join him as well. There was a steep bank of dirt that and they looked down it as water rushed past at a fast pace. It made Sam's stomach churn uncomfortably but he simply braced his arm a little tighter against his side and watched as Dean jumped the bank and plowed unhesitatingly into the water.

It went up about to his mid-thigh, just enough to wet Maddie's toes, and Dean shuddered slightly. "It's freaking cold," he warned, taking a step back to the edge of the water and turning around to present his shoulder to his brother. Sam made a face as he neared the edge and reached out with his good hand to brace himself against Dean.

"Okay?" Dean asked softly and Sam made a face. They would see in a moment. Taking a breath and stabilizing his arm against his side, Sam jumped off the bank and into the river.

The impact was brutal and Sam staggered forward, grunting as pain lanced through his side, and the water tugged at his legs, threatening to tip him over. Dean stumbled as well, trying to keep them both on their feet without the use of his hands but Sam's knees were refusing to lock and he could feel himself going down.

Letting go of his brother, Sam threw out both hands to catch himself. The quick current caught him, instantly tugging at him and attempting to pull him over and under the water but then Dean was crowding in around him and bracing Sam's bad side with his leg.

"Sam?" Dean asked tightly but Sam could only nod. Dean shifted, pressing in closer and Sam took advantage of Dean's stability to claw his way back upright. Dean let him, planting his feet firmly until Sam was leaning against him, his forehead buried against his shoulder.

"You bleeding again?" Dean shifted, jostling his shoulder.

"Doesn't feel like it," Sam mumbled, not that he could really tell because his clothes were soaked.

Dean made a face. "Well, I'm checking it the next time we stop."

"You do that." Sam took a second to regain his bearing and then released his brother, straightening on his own. Dean eyed him for a second before nodding and setting off.

The water would conceal their tracks and, if they were lucky, would also offer a way to cut a straight line back to the car.

They moved in tense silence, searching for any sign that they were being followed. Maddie was awake but lay listlessly in Dean's arms while he pushed doggedly forward, checking over his shoulder every few seconds to ensure that Sam was doing alright.

Sam swore that he was doing alright.

Totally.

He really was.

The icy sharpness of the water was at first a relief as it drained the heat from overtaxed and tired muscles, but just as quickly it began to make him shiver. He was wetter than Dean after his quick trip under, and a soft breeze kept tugging at him, only further compromising the issue.

Not that he was going to tell Dean that it was a problem. First thing first, they were going to get to the car and there would be blankets and strong painkillers and rest.

But first, he had to get to the Impala.

The river continued to lead them downwards in a zigzagging course down the mountain. They passed thick trees and strands of shrubbery but after only a mile and a half, Dean seemed to sense that Sam was about at the end of his endurance and began to look for a relatively easy place where Sam could get out without too much hassle.

They found a spot about twenty minutes later where the bank was relatively the same level as the river. Sam hesitated, his eyes following the path down the river.

"It's only going to continue to pick up in speed and width," Dean said, shifting Maddie, who jerked reflexively, clinging tighter to him "Better to get out now than end up swimming our way out. Besides, I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Gonna give us away faster than anything else."

Sam glared at his brother as he waded over. Dean had clambered out of the water, but Sam could only stare at the small ledge of dirt with weary resignation. It wasn't as high or steep as the bank that they had entered from, but still... Bracing a hand against it, he breathed out slowly and, bracing his hands against the lip, began to pull himself up. He ended up doing more rolling over the side than anything.

"Wow. That was graceful," Dean said dryly over his head and Sam raised one finger in his direction. "Seriously, though, you need a hand up there, grandpa."

Sam held his finger in place, too tired to actually come up with an actually witty comeback. Instead, he rolled back over onto his knees. From there it seemed to take an inordinate amount of effort to leverage himself onto his feet. Dean was watching every move carefully, his fingers flexing around Maddie and Sam knew that he was itching to help, to offer some sort of relief.

"Don't strain your eyes," Sam tried his best to infuse his voice with I'm okay, don't worry but even he could feel their weakness both in wittiness and strength. He glanced down and the pit in his stomach increased. Any tracker worth their salt could tell when they had left the river, Sam's whole ground-hugging experience had assured that.

Dean was also eyeing the marks before finally shrugging and turning his back on them, beginning to walk again. Sam grimaced, pulling his arm tighter to his side and bowing his head as he let his mask slip now that Dean wasn't facing him. His brother twisted and Sam righted himself, forcing his rubbery legs to move forward.

"So I think that if we continue heading northwest, then we should reconnect with the path for a minute. Hopefully, the demon is down in the water and trying to find us and not on the path. We can make up some lost time."

"Sounds good."

Dean slowed his pace a little and Sam picked up his, sliding into place right next to his big brother. Dean gave him a little smile, his eyes flying over his face and no doubt cataloging every sign of injury and weakness. The regret was there so strong that Sam could feel it.

"Dean, it's not your fault. You can't protect me from everything," he said quietly, gripping Dean's arm. The muscles were tense under his hand, straining under the pressure of carrying Maddie and keeping them all alive.

"I can damn well try," Dean insisted, but the vehemence and absurdity that would have been there before May, before Sam had been stabbed in the back by Jake, was diluted. Soon enough, he wasn't going to be around and it would be just Sam against the world.

The thought chilled Sam worse than the river had and his stomach clenched around the sudden pit of anxiety.

He wasn't prepared to lose Dean. If it came down to it, he would march through all the gates of hell, killing every demon there, to free Dean from his deal.

First, though, he had to get off the mountain. Tightening his hand against his side, Sam nodded his head. "Let's just focus on getting out of here, alrigh'? Then we can toss blame around."

"I blame both of you if that makes you feel any better," Maddie pipped up and Dean's eyebrows arched upwards.

"I could just drop you, you know. Leave you right here."

Maddie let her head fall back against his chest, "Right, 'cause that would for sure earn you my number."

"Maybe I don't want it anymore." Dean sniffed rather prudently and Sam rolled his eyes as he hid a small smile and Dean started off again. A sudden feeling of bittersweet swamped him. Dean was good at that and even when Sam wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball of despair, Dean could make him smile.

"Oi! Move your ass, Sam!" Dean called over his shoulder and Sam pushed off the tree, trailing after him.

Chapter Text

Sam was faltering.

Whether it was his time spent in the cold river or just the energy he was expending to keep moving, Sam wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was finding it increasingly hard to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Which was a problem considering that the further into the forest they went, the more uneven and difficult the terrain was growing and Sam was slowly losing ground even as Dean gained it. If it was anyone other than Dean, he would be afraid of getting left behind. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the stitch in his side and the burning in his lungs as he unglued his arm from his side to use it for additional support. Staggering up against the trees, he used them to propel himself forward, trying to catch back up.

It wasn't working.

Sweat was dripping down from his bangs and into his eyes, and he had to blink several times to bring Dean into focus as his brother veered left. Gasping for air, Sam followed, noting dimly that they were moving uphill and away from a small drop-off.

Great, uphill. Just what Sam wanted.

At least he wasn't the only one struggling. Even through his fuzzy vision, he could see the way that Dean's back was bowed under Maddie's weight as his pace began to slow.

Swiping at his face, Sam paused briefly and heaved in a full breath, coughing on it as his tight lungs protested. Bowing his head, he sucked in another desperate breath. He could do this. He could.

Dean was about halfway up the incline when he twisted around, looking over his shoulder to check for Sam.

Sam watched him dazedly and narrowed his eyes when he realized that Dean had turned completely around and was coming back toward him.

Huh. What was he doing…? Jolting with the sudden realization that he had stopped moving, Sam tossed a half-hearted thumb's up in Dean's direction and pushed himself away from the tree that he had been leaning against.

That, it turned out, was a mistake. He took one step forward, and then his body gave up. His legs simply refused to support his weight any longer, sending him crashing first to his knees and then onto to bad side. Sam blinked in shock, staring in surprise at the intimate view of the dirt that he was now getting.

The pain hit hard and fast a moment later.

Back arching, Sam clenched back a hiss as he tried to roll onto his good side. That had freakin' hurt, damnit. The world wavered, revolving around him in increasingly fast and dizzying circles as exhaustion and pain ate at him but a sharp, "Sam—!" cut through it all like a knife, tethering him in the land of consciousness.

Inhaling painfully around the agony, Sam coughed out a groan and clenched his fist tighter, willing himself to stay awake. Dean couldn't afford to have him out for the count now, not with Maddie, a demon, and that stupid deal on his hands.

Closing his eyes in an attempt to control the dizziness, Sam hitched in an unsteady breath before shoving an elbow under his body. Breathing out slowly, he pushed himself up onto his knees. That only made the dizziness worse, and even with his eyes closed Sam could feel everything around him spinning. Grimacing, he tightened he dug his fingers into the ground, willing the world to come to a stop so that he could get up again.

"SAM!" Dean called again and Sam swallowed back nausea. He could do this. He wasn't going to be a burden.

Licking his lips, Sam forced himself to take another deep breath before he risked opening his eyes. Everything was still twirling lazily around him, and he squinted, focusing on the small clouds of dirt that Dean's boots were scuffing up in his rapid descent back down the hill. Sam would have waved him off if he had could let go of the ground without fear of falling over.

Sliding to a stop next to him, Dean lowered himself into an awkward crouch as he continued to clutch Maddie close to his chest. "Sammy, you alright?"

Sam blinked his eyes shut again, digging his fingers in deeper and striving not to throw up as the world continued to blur at the edges. "I'm fine. I just…" he trailed off and Dean's eyes darkened in concern.

"We can stop. Do you want to stop, catch your breath?" Dean's voice was strangely gentle but Sam only shook his head doggedly.

"Not yet, I can keep going."

"You've earned a breather, dude. You seriously look like you're about ten seconds from faintin'. Might be best to stop for a minute."

"Not gonna faint." Sam took another deep breath and the motion pulled his wound. Groaning, he doubled over and locked his arm around his middle, trying to alleviate the pain with pressure. Something warm and wet began to soak into his sleeve, and Sam prayed silently that he hadn't ripped open his wound when he fell.

"Yeah, of course not, why would I think such a stupid thing?"

Sam didn't have to see Dean to know that he was shaking his head in irritation even as he shifted closer, his leg brushing Sam's shoulder. Closing his eyes again, Sam forced his fist to uncurl and reached up blindly until he found Dean's elbow.

"Help me up," he demanded.

"Sam, no, let's just—"

"No, I'm fine. I can make it to the top of the hill."

Dean snorted softly but didn't pull his arm away. "Will you rest then? Finish out this little bit and then take a breather?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," Sam said, blinking his eyes open and finally looking up into Dean's face. He looked ten years older than he was, and the lines on his face stood out starkly. Sam's own worry tightened in his chest, but he forced a teasing smile. "Just get me to the top and then you can take a break. I know that your arms have to be killing you."

Dean snorted again. "Dude, I could do this all day. I'm not the one imprinting my face in the dirt." Still, he shifted, allowing Sam to get a better grip on his elbow.

"That just sort of happened. Didn't mean for it to," Sam ground out through a sudden stab of pain that rose through his gut, forcing him to recoil and curl into himself.

"None of that, Sam, C'mon," Dean's shoulder nudged him and Sam forced the air out of his lungs, taking in another shallow breath. "You're not making that good argument for yourself. I should just plant your ass and not move for like, a week."

Dean waited a moment for Sam to find his grip again before leveraging them both up slowly and allowing Sam to lean most of his weight on his arm. Both were panting from the effort by the time Sam was more or less standing.

"Do you think Emma would get bored if we just stayed where we are at and leave us alone?" Sam bowed his head against Dean's shoulder for a moment and then relinquish his hold with a weak smile of thanks.

"Whoa, what are you doing?"

"I'm good. I am, I'm good, Dean." Sam tried to smile but it wasn't working as worry pulled Dean's mouth down.

"Sam…"

Sam shook his head, starting up the hill again. Dean swore under his breath before moving to hover anxiously next to him, looking unsure of what to do. It was a look that Sam hated to see on Dean's face. It just didn't seem right, not on his know-all, bossy, and in-control brother.

"This is stupid. Let him help you. He can put me down for a moment," Maddie finally said, lifting her head off Dean's chest to look at Sam.

"She's not wrong" Dean chimed in, even as he dropped back, letting Sam set the pace. He didn't hesitate to stand directly behind Sam and in a position that he could brace him if he tumbled back.

Which, to be fair, wasn't an unfounded fear, Sam thought as he leaned into the climb, fighting the pull of gravity and his tired body. They were so close to the top…just a few steps more, and then he could keep going. It would all be downhill from there, hopefully literally.

Downhill he could do.

"Easy there," Dean said, bumping his shoulder up against Sam's. Sam hunched further forward, his breath catching in his lungs as he reached out for the nearest tree, attempting to pull himself forward. Maybe he should have taken a moment, back when he had first fallen because the trees next to him were once again going in and out of focus, blurring together in one large mass.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, no. Sam, don't, not here—" Dean's voice was a distant rushing sound that filled his ears as Sam felt himself hopelessly following the curve of the trees, his body out of his control. The pain was rippling up through his belly in hard, sharp waves but everything else was dim and surreal. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dean hurriedly crouching down and setting Maddie briskly on the ground. Distantly, he heard her short grunt of pain. Or maybe that was him.

He blinked and felt his body tilting backward and for a brief, horrible, moment, he felt the ground disappear from under his feet as he tumbled backward.

Strong hands grabbed Sam's arms, yanking him urgently forward and holding his weight up as his body wilted toward the ground.

Darkness edged in on his vision.

The next thing that Sam was aware of was how soft Dean's shirt was against his cheek. For a moment he drifted there as the dizziness refused to dissipate, listening to Dean ramble gentle comfort over his head. Dean's arms were wrapped around him, holding him in place. A rock in the shifting ocean.

"Dean…"

"You back with me, Sammy?"

Sam swallowed thickly, dropping his head back down against Dean's chest and attempting to take deep breaths.

"Alright, I've gotcha, just…take it easy there, dude. Relax." Small circles were being rubbed on his back, and Sam concentrated on them, breathing in time with the gentle pressure. The world began to slow its insistent dance and Sam allowed Dean to manhandle him back against a tree and then lowered his head down between his knees.

A lukewarm bottle of water was pressing into his hand, and Sam pressed it against his forehead, trying to suck the last of the coldness from it as a sickening feeling of being overheated joined in the dizziness.

"Is he going to be alright?" Maddie's voice was timid as Dean's hand moved back up, squeezing the back of his neck.

"He's been stabbed," he said shortly in response. "And is being forced to run cross-country while being chased by a psychotic demon. He's not alright."

"Dean," Sam rebuked wearily, lifting his head and prying his eyes open long enough to glare at his brother. "I'm alright, I just got a little dizzy."

"Yeah, a little dizzy. That's all. Shut up and drink the water." Dean stood, keeping one hand braced against Sam's shoulder as he twisted, looking around them warily. Sam grappled with the water for a moment, tucking the bottle between his knees in an attempt to get the lid off one-handed before finally giving up and tapping it against Dean's knee. Dean didn't even blink as he unscrewed the lid and returned it to Sam.

Sam took a gulp, coughing a little on it at first, but the next swallow went down easier and his stomach only churned slightly before calming. Maddie was watching him with concern, her lower lip stuck in between his teeth and Sam attempted a quick smile. She smiled back tentatively and Sam reached out, rolling the water bottle over to her and was slightly ashamed that she had to stretch to get it.

Another wave of heat washed over Sam and he quickly bowed his head, pressing it against his knees and blowing out long breaths. Belatedly remembering that he might have opened his wound up earlier, he twisted just a little in an effort not to bring Dean's attention back to him and tentatively lifted his arm. There was no need to alarm him if Sam was just sweating excessively and…no, that was blood. A fresh, glistening path on his shirt and on his sleeve. Pressing his arm back down, Sam applied pressure and was pleased when only a low grunt escaped him.

"Alright, here's what we are gonna do," Dean announced and Sam lifted his head up as Dean crouched back down at his eye level. "I'm gonna leave you two here while I go check out far we are from off the path or from the Impala. We've got to get you to a hospital. So you two just sit tight and keep a lookout. She's a sneaky bitch." His eyes locked on Sam's and he nodded firmly, pushing himself up to sit more upright.

"Trust me, I know that. But, dude, be careful," Sam warned.

Dean smiled, patting Sam's shoulder.

"I'm always careful."

"Right," Sam rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it. Dean tightened his grip and it was Sam's turn to flash a smile. Dean nodded once and shouldered the duffle firmly, his face set and determined.

"I should only be about an hour at the most." Dean stopped briefly next to Maddie and shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her, and saying something. Sam leaned forward, but he couldn't quite make out everything that he said, just enough to realize that he was giving her order to make sure that Sam stayed conscious.

With only a few glances back, Dean surged on ahead with quick, sure, steps and Sam watched until he disappeared into the thick trees.

Maddie let out a low groan, drifting further onto her side and curling up around her injured leg.

"How are you doing?" he asked her tiredly, leaning his head back against the tree and fighting to keep his eyes open as he continued to apply pressure. She made a brave attempt at a smile, but her pinched face and glistening eyes said it all.

Sam felt that. All he had wanted to do for the past few months was curl up in a ball and pretend that Dean wasn't about to go to hell because of him. All because he hadn't toughened up and killed Jake, and it had cost him everything.

Crossing his arm further over his side, he blinked back the sudden moisture in his eyes and focused on scanning the seemingly quiet forest. Birds were chirping, while a grasshopper sprung up from the grass, going God only knew where, and a mosquito was buzzing somewhere near his ear. They were safe for the moment.

His side was still bleeding.

"Oh, hell," Sam muttered under his breath, shifting against the tree in an attempt to find more leverage. Releasing the pressure he had been putting on it, he pried his shirts upwards and made a face at the completely soaked-through gauze.

Damn.

"Uh, that doesn't look good," Maddie squeaked and Sam quickly dropped his shirt, blushing just a little.

"It's fine," he lied, quickly resuming adding pressure. Maddie pulled herself up awkwardly and dragged her bad leg along till she was sitting next to him.

"How long has it been bleeding like that? Dean said that you had the bleeding under control earlier." She looked up at him, her eyes wide and fearful. Her whole world had just been turned upside down in a matter of hours and Sam remembered very clearly how that felt.

"Just since I fell."

"Why didn't you tell Dean?" She reached out, before pulling her hands back in hesitantly, looking unsure of what to do.

"Dean is doing his best to get us all out of here alive, this is minor compared with what he is dealing with. All we can do is put pressure on it anyway. Just, ah, help me with this." Sam was trying to dig through his pocket for his handkerchief but the movement was making him break out in a cold sweat.

"He would have wanted to know," Maddie pulled the square of material free and began to fold it into a neat pad. "He's worried about you."

"Which is exactly why he didn't need to know. He worried too much as it is and we'll have it stopped by the time he gets back."

"But…"

Sam took the cloth for her hands but she tugged it back and with determination set in her pale face she tugged his shirts back up before she stalled.

"If you are going to do it, you might as well do it," Sam said dryly and Maddie nodded tightly and pressed the new bandage down. Sam grunted, his fingers clenching as he rode through the wave of pain. Gritting his teeth, he blinked back black sports.

Maddie swallowed hard next to him, looking faintly ill herself. "I'm sorry. I'm the one who did this, and I didn't—I was there, awake, and I should have been able to do something, but—"

"Maddie," Sam broke in gently, "There was nothing that you could have done. That demon was in complete control." She nodded jerkily, the pressure increasing on his side. Sam let out a strange sound and Maddie let up just a little.

"Aren't you…aren't you worried about Dean getting possessed? What if he comes back with it in him?" She asked haltingly with a glance in the direction that Dean had gone.

"Nah, see this, the demon can't get in with that." It took Sam a couple of fumbling attempts to pull the neck of his t-shirt down far enough to show off the tattoo and Maddie stared at it. Though, her gaze may have been more on the bloody fingerprints that Sam was leaving behind rather than the actual tattoo itself.

"You know a lot about this kind of thing, don't you?"

Sam snorted. "I would hope. My brother and I have been hunting things like this since we were kids."

Maddie's face grew horrified. "Kids?"

"It's a long story."

Maddie shifted next to him, earning herself a pained grunt and Sam looked over at her, making sure that she was alright, or at least okay. She was pale, but she didn't appear to be in immediate danger, not that Sam would have been able to do anything if she had been.

"I guess I should thank you then, for saving people like me." Her voice caught again and Sam let the weight of Emma, of all those they hadn't saved drifted down to land on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Emma. I'm sorry that we didn't figure it out sooner and that one…that one is on us."

Maddie let out a painful-sounding sob and Sam reached out to cover her hand with his but thought better of it at the last minute. Somehow, he supposed that getting blood all over her wasn't really going to help, not that much. Maddie continued to sob, fat tears gathering in her eyes before trickling down her face and cutting a path through all the grime.

"I killed her. At the movie theater, we were about to go in and suddenly I wasn't in control anymore and I just grabbed her by her head and—"

"Maddie, don't," Sam said firmly. "That wasn't your fault and trust me when I say that reliving it over and over again isn't going to make it any easier."

Maddie only bowed her head, her cries harsh and rough. Maddie would never be the same, would never go back to being that perky waitress who was immune to Dean's charm.

Sam's stomach flip-flopped uncomfortably and he shifted her hands from his side, pressing his arm back into place, but he could do nothing more than offer a shoulder for her to cry on. She huddled against him, her body heaving with the force of her cries, and Sam patted her shoulder awkwardly, offering soft noises of reassurance.

Chapter Text

Maddie's tears—and Sam's blood—had both slowed to a trickle by the time Dean appeared abruptly at the top of the hill, blending almost seamlessly in with the shadows. Sam breathed a sigh of relief but Dean's face shifted from focus to alarm.

"What's happening?" he demanded urgently, picking up his pace. Maddie shook her head, wiping at her puffy and swollen eyes with the sleeve of her shirt as she sat up straighter. Dean's eyes widened comically at the new blood that was covering both her and Sam and he shoved his way in between them, crouching low.

"What the hell?" Dean snagged the duffle, dragging it over as he pressed two fingers to the underside of Sam's wrist.

"Dean, it looks worse than it is. The bleeding has pretty much stopped again," Sam was quick to try and defuse the situation but Dean flashed him a look that could have killed before shifting through the first-aid kit for more gauze.

"Was it bleeding before I left?" he asked gruffly as he shifted Sam's arm to the side.

"I don't know, maybe," Sam lied easily and Dean narrowed his eyes at him before shaking his head. The hurt that flashed across his face was almost worse and Sam reached out, latching onto Dean's arm. Dean continued to work, blotting at the gauze and trying to determine if Sam indeed was finished bleeding for the moment. Finally, he sat back, a calmer expression on his face than a minute ago.

"You suck, you know that. I come back and find Maddie acting like you had died or something, and then you weren't moving…" he trailed off cursing but his actions were more tender than not as he brushed Sam's sweat-soaked hair back from his face.

Sorry felt inadequate, but it was all that Sam had to offer and Dean seemed somewhat pacified, his eyes losing some of the panic that seemed so permanently entrenched there. Not for the first time, and surely not for the last, Sam wanted to hate his father for everything that he had forced on them.

"Did you find anything?" he asked as Dean moved over to Maddie, checking her injury over once again. Dean looked up from where he was palpating her ankle and heaved a sigh.

"We're about half a mile from the trail and about another five to the car. I just…we can't trust anybody else we might meet if we take the path, and we sure as hell didn't bring enough holy water to test everybody."

Sam blew out a breath. "More cross-country hiking?"

Dean set Maddie's foot aside, his face twisting up in a grimace. "No. No, I'm done playing this bitch's game. If we can hit the trailhead then we are going to make better time."

"Dean—"

"Don't 'Dean' me! We can't keep this up, you've got a freaking hole in your side, no way you should have to be climbing around mountains, or—or wading through rivers. None of it. I didn't give up my soul so that you could up and die because of some psycho demon!"

Sam paused, biting at his lower lip as he took in the slump of his brother's shoulders and reached over, clasping his arm. "Then leave me and Maddie behind. Go on ahead, catch her. Trap her and show her what it really means to go up against a hunter, against a Winchester. She probably is waiting at the bridge anyway, it's really the only tactical thing to do."

Dean hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth as he went through various scenarios and Sam leaned back, watching. Maddie stayed quiet, wiping occasionally at her still running eyes.

"One way or the other, you're still going to have to hike out of here," Dean said slowly. "And I'd feel better if I had you close at hand. When we get closer to the bridge we can talk about it." He shrugged and Sam nodded.

"So more cross-country hiking?" he asked again with a forced smile. Dean snorted as he began to repack their bags, his face still lined with tension. "Hey," Sam sat up a little straighter. "At least we can cut a path through the forest. It might be quicker that way, anyway. Forget all those switchbacks."

"Right, 'cause the switchbacks are there just so you can enjoy the scenery. No practical purpose whatsoever."

Sam snorted a laugh and leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. He really wasn't feeling well…Taking a moment, Sam worked on stuffing it all down, locking all the weakness in a box deep enough that he couldn't get to it, not yet, not till everyone was safe.

"I'm going to help Sam up, Maddie, then I'll grab you, okay?"

Sam opened his eyes at Dean's words just in time to see Maddie give him a watery nod.

"You ready, dude?" Dean bent down next to Sam, grabbing his left arm and bracing it under the elbow. Sam returned the grip, and together they slowly levered him to his feet. Sam panted through the motion, his fingers turning white against Dean's as he swayed.

"Woah, easy does it. Easy." Dean tightened his hold and took a step closer, bracing for another fall as Sam's face rapidly turned from pasty white to grey. "C'mon, don't pass out on me now, man. I kinda based all our plans off of the fact that you weren't going to do this to me."

"I'm fine," Sam ground out quietly, giving himself a moment to adjust as he gripped Dean's arm hard enough that it had to be painful. The nausea that had reared its ugly head with the movement simmered back down as everything stabilized around him and he slowly released Dean. "I'm good. Go help Maddie."

He gestured loosely for Dean to move away, but Dean only tightened his grip. "Let's get you to the bottom of the hill first," he countered, shifting his grip from Sam's elbow to tuck his arm around his waist. "Because, and I'm gonna be brutally honest, if I don't I'll probably be hearing 'help, I've fallen and I can't get up!' from you, grandpa, so let's just…let's just get you to a place where you aren't going to tear yourself up worse if you do fall."

Sam snorted, throwing an entirely unamused look in Dean's direction. Dean grinned, before tossing an "I'll be right back" over his shoulder towards Maddie.

They started the climb up the rest of the hill, Sam's shifting to gather a handful of his brother's jacket to keep himself steady.

"By the way," Dean lightly jabbed a finger into Sam's chest, "You have to swear to tell me if you start leaking again, okay? If you feel like you're gonna pass out, tell me. You need to sneeze—"

"Tell you?" Sam hazard a guess, panting lightly.

"Damn right."

They reached the top of the hill that Sam hadn't been able to obtain earlier and Dean twisted his fingers into Sam's shirt, preparing for the descent.

As it was, the slope was steep enough that it was almost impossible to stop the gain of momentum as they worked their way down.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy does it," Dean snapped, trying to keep his own boots from slipping out in the loose dirt. Sam gave a low grunt in response as he tried simply to keep his feet moving and himself upright. They took the last few steps at something far too close to a full-out run and it felt him pale, shaky, and feeling a little like he might pass out again. A cold sweat had broken out across his face and neck and even as Dean's finger's clenched painfully around him, he listed uncertainly to the side.

"Maybe…do you want to sit down again? I won't even make fun of you," Dean asked as he shifted his grip, leaning Sam against a nearby tree and slipping his hand underneath the torn shirts. He began to press his fingers around the gauze checking for more bleeding.

"Yeah, you will," Sam protested breathlessly, swallowing against the insistent nausea before shaking his head. "No, I've just got to keep going. If I sit down, I'm not getting back up." His fingers clenched and unclenched reflexively around Dean's arm before letting go. Dean started forward, an arm outstretched to grab him, but Sam only latched onto a nearby tree, using it to balance himself.

"Go, get Maddie. I'm good." He shot Dean a soft and knowing look as his brother shook his head in frustration.

"Your anything but that," he said quietly and under his breath.

Sam couldn't exactly contend with that. "Just…just point me in the right direction, okay?"

Dean shook his head again but pointed right. "You're only going to make it, like, ten feet before I catch up with you, you know that right?"

Sam smiled, rolling his eyes. "You'd better get going then."

Dean did the trip up and down the hill at a record speed and Sam could hear him lightly teasing Maddie as he caught back up with him, trying to make her smile, trying to make everything better. That was what Dean did, after all.

Dean nudged Sam's shoulder with his own, offering the appendage as a cane of sorts and Sam slowly twisted upright from his hunched-over position, crawling his hand up Dean's shoulder and gripping tight.

#

Glancing behind him for what felt like the umpteenth time, all Dean could see was the top of Sam's bowed head as he labored onwards. The past hour had not been easy for him, Dean knew that, but he just. kept. going.

Pride warred with concern until Dean settled on anger. It seemed as good of emotion as any and it fueled him better than most. Once he laid his hands on that demon, he was going to rip her limb from limb before sending her back to hell. If he didn't distrust Ruby so much, he might even call her up and ask for the use of her knife, but she was a whole different basket case that he wasn't sure about.

Right now the priority was getting Sam and Maddie to the hospital.

Then it would be time to hunt.

Dean shifted Maddie in his arms. All the crying earlier had worn her out and she lay still, her head pressed against his chest as she blinked lethargically. She was never going to be the same again, but she would live to tell the tale, Dean would make sure of that. They just had to get off this damn mountain.

Sam let out a sharp gasp behind him and Dean whipped his head around, slowing his steps as Sam's grip on his shoulder faltered. Pausing, he waited for Sam to breathe through the pain before they started up again.

Dean hated this. He hated that they were pushing through brush and debris like some wild animal. Growling under his breath, he guided Sam around and out of the way of a fallen tree, attempting to take the smoothest path possible.

The trail was just out of eyesight to their left and the thought gnawed at him ever deeper with each little sound of pain that Sam made. He knew that this stupid hike through the woods wasn't bugging Sam nearly as much as it was him and that even though it left him breathless and in pain that Sam preferred it to actually being on the trail, but damnit. This wasn't right.

"This is so dumb," Dean said under his breath, his fingers curling reflexively around Maddie. He was itching for his gun as well, but he couldn't carry it and Maddie at the same time. This whole situation was screwing with him.

"What?" Sam lifted his head, his brow creased in confusion as he tried to follow Dean's train of thought.

"This! Everything!" Dean shrugged emphatically, before shifting to block Maddie as he shoved his way past the prickly branches of a nearby bush. "What are the odds that Emma—the demon—is actually going to be on the path? Huh? It would get us back to the car in double time."

"We don't know that, this is safer," Sam protested, his fingers tightening around Dean's shoulder. "What happens if you are brushing past Mr. Rogers and he stabs you? We really don't need you down as well, Dean. Better to play it safe."

"How busy are these trails really, though? It's not exactly prime hiking season and it's getting close to evening. People hike in the morning, not at night."

"I don't…I just don't feel like it's a good idea," Sam continued to protest and Dean pulled a face at the nearby rock.

"But I don't like the idea of dragging you through all this crapfest. We aren't exactly the Kratt brothers here."

"The who?"

"The Kratt brothers? Zoboomafoo?"

A long moment later Sam huffed a laugh. "Dean, isn't that some kid's TV show? We've seen more weird animals than those brothers ever have. But if it makes you feel better, after this we could start a tv show showcasing demons and vamps to kids."

"See, now you are starting to sprout nonsense." Dean pretended that he didn't hear the long-suffering sigh before Sam inched closer to him, a physical reminder that he was still alive and actually, well, maybe not okay but doing alright.

That was when they turned the corner and Sam finally did stop with a low moan of disappear. A rocky drop-off confronted them and Dean made a face. He remembered this section from when they had hiked in and the trail that eased down the incline, offering a lovely switchback to ease the descent.

Sam dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder with a weary groan that tore at Dean's heartstrings.

"I'll leave it up to you, buddy," Dean said, glancing over his shoulder as he eyes the steep drop-off with numerous rocks and fallen trees. If Sam fell here, then he would more than likely bash his head open.

Sam just groaned again. "Neither. I pick that we find a third option."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, unless you found any lamps with genies in them, don't think that's much of a choice. But…Imma just going to throw this out there. You can see this gully from almost any point on the path. Not exactly a lot of trees to provide cover. If Emma is watching us from up there, she'll see us." He waited a moment, but Sam knew when he was beaten.

"Trail it is, then. You do realize that with our luck, we probably are going to come across Emma? I guess that this would be another logical point to make a stand," Sam panted just loud enough for Dean to hear as he backed up a step, letting Dean have enough room to turn around.

"Yeah, well, the quicker I can send her packin' on a one-way trip to hell, the better." Dean awkwardly shuffled around, taking point again and starting them back the way that they had come. This time aiming them up and off to the left and back towards the path.

Dean wasn't even mad.

"Do you really think the demon might be waiting for us up there?" he asked casually as he dug his boots into the loose dirt, finding traction for the uphill climb.

"Maybe. It's what we might do," Sam choked on the words, coughing the last ones out and taking in a large gulp of air.

"No, we would just go straight to the bridge," Dean countered gently. "Too many places for whatever your hunting to slip past here, but I'd bet a pretty penny that we are better hunters than the demon is. I mean, there have been a lot of flaws in her plan. She didn't make sure Maddie was dead and didn't leave you tied up properly. If it was me, I would narrow down the location to a point that we would be forced to go through. It's been stuck doing whatever it is demons do down in hell and dreaming up this crazy fantasy, not actually hunting, for too long."

"True," Sam sounded more breathless than before, the word weak, and Dean shut his mouth, waiting until they reached the top before speaking again.

"All the same, we have to get ourselves to the bridge. Or around it, but that river—"

"Way too fast to swim," Sam said swiftly.

"Shut up and save your breath, I'm just thinking out loud," Dean tossed over his shoulder, "So the river's a no-go. I mean, I might be able to—"

"—No—"

"Alright, that's a hard no from Sam for the river." Dean hadn't honestly thought that it would be worth it, the river that they had crossed through earlier was nothing compared to the monster that it eventually fed into, but it had been worth a try.

"I guess we could stake it out, see if there even is someone there guarding it. She can't stay there forever and it's us against her."

"Don't have a lot of supplies," Sam reminded him and Dean made a face.

"Spoilsport,' he grunted under his breath before saying louder as they reached the path. "Stay here a minute, Sam. I'm going to go make sure that there isn't anyone else up here."

Sam let go of his shoulder, clinging to a branch instead. Pulling himself easily over the lip that led to the path, Dean paused, glancing around for signs of anyone else, demon or otherwise.

"Okay, we're good," he said softly, his senses on full alert and the hair on the back of his neck tingling. "Think you can…?" he trailed off, jerking his head at the ledge that led off the trail.

"Yeah," Sam said with a confidence that Dean, personally, didn't think that either of them shared.

With a grunt of his own and one last glance around him, Dean went down onto his knees and leaned over enough to offer his shoulder once again as a brace. Sam made a face that said that he wasn't happy at all with the situation but grabbed hold, using it to inch his way up.

"Wow, you weigh a lot," Dean said in a strained voice as he fought the pull of gravity and Sam's body weight. Maddie's hand come up, gripping tight to his shirt with a petrified look on her face as Dean gave her a look straight down the hillside He probably could have put her down, but…to be honest, his arms had kind of locked up and it would take a long minute to work free the kinks. He may have been well-conditioned, but this was a little ridiculous.

Sam rolled more then climbed over the top and lay on the ground, his whole body trembling. His skin was paler than the last time that Dean had gotten a decent look at him, gaining an almost translucent look.

"How's your temperature holding up? High? Low? Bitchy?" Dean asked, glancing around them once more. Sam rolled over, easing himself onto his knees. He had to stop there, his fist clenching and unclenching as he worked out through the pain.

"I've been hiking through the woods, what do you expect? 'm hot," Sam mumbled once had enough air and Dean raised an eyebrow, decidedly unimpressed. He did let Sam cling to him as he once more rose to his feet, aiding Sam up at the same time.

"How about your pulse? Take your pulse and tell me," he demanded, casting his eyes about once more. He felt so much more exposed out there and the need for his gun was making his fingers twitchy. Sam made a face and Dean shot him a hard glare. "Just do it, dude. Don't bitch about it."

Sam pressed his fingers to his neck, pausing quickly to wipe away some of the sweat there, before silently counting. Dean waited for the outcome, judging other vital signs from appearance alone. Sam was breathing too fast and he was sweating like he was getting a grade out of it.

"Well?" Dean asked and Sam pulled another classic-Sam-Winchester-is-concentrating-so-would-you-shut-up-Dean face.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"It's a little fast," Sam admitted, dropping his arm and pressing it back against his side with a pained sound. Dean shook his head in exasperation, not expecting anything different but still frustrated.

They moved up the path and it didn't take long for Dean to feel that the choice to readjourn with the trail was the right one. Sam had straightened behind him, letting go of his shoulder and supporting his own weight and his breathing was coming in a little less harsh, his steps smoother without the constant fight against the uneven and often troublesome ground.

It also made Dean dread the time that they would, once again, be forced off the path.

The lengthy switchbacks seemed to go on and on, winding them down the steep incline with little or no problems. It was until they rounded the last bend that they saw the middle-aged man sitting in the shade near a tree.

It was the first soul that they had seen since they had set foot on the mountain that morning and Dean stiffened, his heart jackhammering against his ribs. Sam swore under his breath, straightening up further and tucking his coat quickly around his blood-stained shirt.

The man raised his head, looking up from the trail mix that he was going through.

Dean didn't take his eyes off him. "Evening," he said as calmly, giving him the best glare that he could manage. The man nodded back, his eyes growing increasingly wide as he took in their ragged appearance.

"Christo," Sam spat with little regard to social interaction from next to him and Dean's fingers once again twitched around his grip on Maddie as he watched the man intently.

He blinked, but merely looked confused and his eyes remained a clear blue. "Sorry, what?"

"Nothing," Dean said hastily, sharing a relieved glance with Sam. "Nothing. Uh," he glanced down at Maddie and raised his eyebrows, jerking them towards the man and silently asking her if she wanted to be left with him, but Maddie shook her head urgently, her fingers snaking into further into Dean's shirt. He was going to have permeant wrinkles from how tight she kept holdin' on.

"I trust you," she implored, her eyes wide and Dean glanced over at Sam, who was nodding and Dean heaved a sigh.

"It would be safer," he tried but Maddie only kept shaking her head and Sam edged closer.

"Unless it's not. It could come back for her, Dean. Use her against us or kill her out of spite. That puts a target on him as well."

"Excuse me?!" the man ahead of them had gotten to his feet, his trail mix tumbling to the ground. Dean turned to face him, putting on his most patient face.

"Does this look like any of your business? Go back to picking out your freaking M&M's." He turned back to Sam and smiled at the look of mortification on his brother's face. At least that one thing hadn't changed.

The man's eyes followed them as they passed, his eyes straying a little too long on Sam's bloodied clothing until Dean swung back around.

"What, never seen people out hiking together? Move along, there isn't anything to see here." The man jutted out his chin but Dean straightened to his full height, glaring down at the smaller man and he backed down again, his eyes jumping back to the ground. "That's right. Now continue up to the top and I really, really, hope that I don't see you again."

Sam made an apologetic noise but Dean marched ahead, his back ramrod straight. Sam inched up next to him a moment later.

"You could have been a little nicer," he remarked dryly but Dean only shrugged.

"All's fair in love and war."

"But he didn't know anything. You've got to give him credit, he didn't freak out overseeing us looking like some sort of wild gang hopped up on drugs." Sam smiled briefly and Dean shook his head.

"I think we were more freaked out than he was. I swear my heart was about to start beating out of my chest when we rounded that corner and he was just right there. I thought for sure that we were screwed."

Sam smiled, laughing shortly before all the humor left his face. "We need to get off the trail again."

"Yeah, off the trail," Dean agreed immediately with only a moment of complaint from his brain. "I feel naked out here in the open." He paused, gnawing at his lower lip before turning to look at Sam and whatever was in his face had Sam's eyes softening into that doe-eyed look of fondness that he sometimes got, the one that meant he was about to start gushing about their feelings. All the same, Dean bit the bullet.

"You gonna be okay? And don't wax on, monosyllabic answers work great."

That look on Sam's face wasn't going away and he smiled down at the ground momentarily before answering. "Don't worry about me, dude, let's just try and stay away from the demon as long as possible."

"Yeah, 'don't worry'. I'm gonna worry because you are the one watching my back and if you decide to randomly fall over then it's me who is screwed over in this deal."

"Right," Sam was still smiling and Dean shook his head, pushing his way down the path and towards the end of the switchbacks. The trail here was level with the ground and they simply walked right off, disappearing into the foliage as if they had never even been there in the first place.

It felt like far too soon to Dean that Sam's hand found his shoulder again, bracing himself as they maneuvered around fallen foliage and low-hanging branches. And then it was back to the strained breathing and grunts of pain.

There was a reason that the trail was designed the way that it was, and it wasn't to make hikers work more.

He was so going to knife the demon when he got ahold of her, she wasn't going to stand a chance.

#

Darkness had steadily crept across the sky and faint stars were starting to shine when Dean declared that they had, probably, about a mile, maybe a mile and a half, left to reach the bridge depending on how they navigated the mountainside.

"Emma's probably already there," Sam said in a hoarse whisper but Dean only shrugged, his shoulder shifting in Sam's white-knuckled grip.

"We've got to get you to a hospital, man," Dean said lowly, his concern almost thick enough to touch. He had been growing more agitated the last hour and Sam could sense his growing restlessness.

"I'm not even sure I need a hospital, just a bed and rest," Sam tried, desperate to cut a little bit of the weight Dean was carrying away.

"I'm gonna need it then because I'm gonna have an aneurism before this is over."

Sam would have laughed if he hadn't been busy warding off the intense pain that was threatening to take his breath away. Dean froze, turning in an attempt to see Sam's face but Sam had his forehead pressed against his outstretched arm in an attempt to muffle the soft whimper.

"You good?"

"Yeah," Sam pressed himself back upright, taking another step forward that Dean matched easily.

"Well don't feel offended that I won't believe that until I have a medical professional who actually gets a paycheck tell me that." Dean skirted them a clump of trees, shifting a sleeping Maddie in his arms with a pained grunt of his own.

"I kept tellin' you. I just need drugs and rest." Sam sighed, his eyes growing distant for a moment. "That sounds like total bliss right now."

Dean shifted a little closer as Sam stumbled, trying to take more of his weight but there was only so much he could do and Sam could read the lines on his face that said that it irked him to no end. An owl hooted softly in the distance and Sam jumped. The motion sent a hot wave of pain coursing through his side and he doubled over.

"Damnit," Dean swore under his breath and made to put Maddie down but Sam shook his head.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," he repeated in a low mumble and Dean hesitantly straightened, his eyes dark with concern.

"I swear if I hear that phrase come out of your pie-hole one more time, I'm gonna smack you," he growled, but slowly started forward. Dean was practically moving at a crawl to accommodate him, but no matter how hard Sam tried he just couldn't. He was about at the end of his endurance and they both knew it.

The thought irked him like nothing else and that more than anything had kept him on his feet and moving.

A twig snapped somewhere close by and Sam froze, feeling Dean do the same.

"Might just be a deer…" Dean muttered and Sam nodded.

"Still means that I wouldn't mind having Ruby's knife," he returned, his voice dropping lower. They held their breaths, waiting several long moments. Nothing appeared but Sam couldn't shake the dark chill that was creeping up his spine.

He squinted into the trees, trying to see through the increasing dimness and his lack of focus. Dean was a rock under his hand, not moving as he gathered intel. The hairs stood up on the nape of his neck and Sam fought the urge to inch closer to Dean.

As quickly as the moment had come it vanished and the darkness that had descended upon them lifted, leaving only the warmth and calm of the clearing. An owl hooted softly somewhere and Sam let all the air out of his lungs in a rush. "What's she playing at?" he mumbled, shifting on his suddenly shaking legs. His calves were starting to cramp and every step threatened to be his last.

"I don't know," Dean said. "She's the one holding all the cards here, but I don't like it, Sammy. I don't like it all."

"She might be…might be just…" Sam trailed off, hunching over with one hand on his knee and the other curling into the meat of Dean's shoulder. He panted roughly through pain, trying hard not to buckle under its pressure.

"You gonna upchuck or anything, cause, you know, the demon is probably still around. Though, to be fair, it might scare her away."

Sam shot Dean a look that told him exactly where he could stick that sentiment before his face crumpled and he let go of Dean, running a hand through his hair and clenching a handful at the roots as he tried to slow his breathing and get everything back under control.

"Slow it down and just take deep breathes," Dean said softly, casting a nervous glance around the forest before nudging Sam's shoulder lightly with his arm. Sam cast him a much more apologetic look this time before straightening a little.

"Do you think she was just checking in on us?" Dean asked, probably more as an effort to distract Sam than anything else, and Sam nodded.

"Uh, yeah. Might just have been looking. Don't know—" he trailed off and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, we don't even know if she saw us. She could have just been passing through the area, trying to get a location on us. Hey! If she is, you know what that means?"

"She's away from the bridge." Sam leaned his head back, his eyes cinching close. This might be their only chance…

The sudden wave of hopelessness and despair that flooded through his system and sent tears pricking at his eyes took him by surprise. The bridge was still at least a mile away. At least. And he was going to have to force his legs not only to carry him that far, but also go at a speed that wasn't more than a shuffle, not if they had any real hope of getting out there.

The odds had never seemed more impossible than they did right then.

"Whadda say, should we try and make a break for it?" Dean asked and Sam clenched his eyes shut tighter, willing with all that he had to keep the exhaustion and tears at bay.

"Yeah, okay," he finally got out and felt Dean tense under his hand.

"Sam…" he said almost gently and Sam shook his head in frustration.

"Dean, no, let's just go. This may be our only chance," he ground out, looking away from and down at the ground just in case Dean looked over his shoulder. Dean was silent for a long moment, long enough for Sam to risk a glance at him, but he was staring ahead, his jaw working as he thought.

Sam bowed his head, blinking away the last of the wetness from his eyes. He was better than this, he was. So was Dean. Their dad would have just kept on marching, nothing got in the way of the hunt.

"Yeah, okay," Dean finally said and they once again started off, pushing hesitantly through brush and briar but it seemed as if someone had attached two dead hellhounds to Sam's back, their weight dragging him down until he thought that it might topple him.

Not that hellhounds weren't a fugitive weight in his day-to-day life or anything, Sam thought darkly. Wasn't like they were hanging over their heads, just waiting for the year to end.

Sam forced himself to pick up his feet at the thought, his fingers tightening in Dean's jacket as if it was the only thing keeping him upright. Which it probably was, but Dean had always been his support. Now it was his turn, his turn to fix the problem because, for the first time in his life, Dean wasn't looking for a solution.

"Woah, slow down there Speedy Gonzalez before you fall flat on your face!"

No, they had to keep moving so that he could leave this damn forest behind so that they could kill the demon and put all this nonsense behind them.

"Seriously, man, stop," Dean's low whisper was harsh in the dark and Sam stumbled to a standstill next to him, his fingers clenching and unclenching in his jacket as his chest heaved and his legs trembled. The air felt unusually warm and he rode out the accompanying dizziness.

"We can keep going," Sam croaked out but Dean was already shaking his head.

"Yeah, no. I mean, you are doing an awfully good imitation of the big bad wolf back there with all your huffing and puffing but the only thing that you're gonna blowdown is yourself."

They stood there at a stalemate, the light of the faint moon just starting to shine down through the trees and illuminate the shadows around them.

It was Dean who broke the silence first. "C'mon, let's just sit down for a moment, take a breather. I don't think Emma is near us right now, but even if she was, moving might not be the best idea," Dean paused, shifting a sleeping Maddie against his chest before he went in for the kill. "Besides, my arms are about to fall off, dude."

Sam opened his mouth, tried to think of a valid response to everything that his brother had said, to even just think through the thick fog that was waring against everything he did, and closed his mouth again. Dean seemed to know that he had won and began to gently ease out of Sam's grasp so that he could set Maddie down.

The loss of contact and support sent Sam stumbling back, the vertigo back with a vengeance now that there was nothing to ground him. Maybe Dean had been right to take a moment to just…

"I'…I'm gonna sit down," Sam muttered, throwing out both hands in an attempt to find something to hold him upright as his knees reached their giving point and simply refused to hold his weight any longer.

"What, no, Sam, hold up a freaking second, let me help—" Dean's panicked voice swirled around him and then he was hitting the ground hard on his tailbone and then tipping over onto his side. His arm dug painfully into his wound and agony shot up through the tender nerves.

The pain cut through the fog better than anything else had and Dean's face wavered into view enough so that Sam could make out his features without having to squint. Dean's hand came up, bracing his shoulder and kneading it gently.

"Hey, Sammy, you're alright. Just breathe for a minute, put your head down, c'mon work with me here."

Sam's head was pressed down towards his knees and a moment later a bottle of water was thrust into his line of vision. Sam stared at it and Dean moved it closer, shaking it lightly. Sam took the hint, reaching out for it.

The water was disgustingly warm, but it felt like heaven to Sam and he took another large gulp. Dean let him drink his fill and then silently took it back, capping it absently as he looked Sam over.

Sam ducked his gaze, staring at the ground as he leaned further into Dean's support. "Maybe you were right," he mumbled tiredly and Dean blew out a laugh.

"I keep telling you that I always am."

"Just this once you were right. Most of the time not so much," Sam corrected himself. His legs were still throbbing as blood continued to pump through them but they weren't moving so that was something. His eyes threatened to dip lower and Sam pried them open again.

"Dean, you should get out of here, go get some more weapons."

"What? You're mumbling, dude."

Sam grunted, but dutifully repeated himself and felt the moment that Dean understood because he stiffened.

"No way, that demon is wandering around. I'm not leaving you unprotected for her to just happen across."

Sam paused, heaving a breath, and then sighed. In about a minute Dean was going to be on his own anyway, not much he could say to debate with him. "Fair enough, but Imma…I gotta—"

"Yeah, try and get rest. I'll stand guard," Dean insisted, and then Sam was shifted. The new position did not agree with his body and Sam arched back, gasping out a strange sound.

"Alright, alright, careful now, we'll just…" Dean's hands moved to his shoulder and waist and in one swift movement, Sam was rolled onto his non-injured side. The motion made everything spin and Sam ducked his head closer to his chest, panting through the sensation.

Something warm floated down, covering him, and then his head was lifted as what felt like the duffle was shoved underneath. Dean's hand lingered against his forehead and Sam heard a muttered curse and then Sam felt the breeze as Dean rose from his crouched position.

Flinging his hand out, Sam managed to latch onto his ankle, instantly stilling his steps.

"Dean…"

"Yup," Dean instantly was kneeling next to him, taking his hand and squeezing it. Sam's brain worked on the response but Dean seemed to know what it meant before he did.

"Yeah, I get it. We're good."

Sam nodded once and let the tension leave his body and followed it down to the darkness that quickly overwhelmed him.

Chapter Text

"What are you doing?" Maddie's voice broke the quiet of the night, and Dean flinched, looking around.

"Listening," he growled and then instantly regretted it when Maddie's face closed off and she shifted, curling up into a tighter ball. Sighing, Dean rubbed a hand through his hair and glanced at Sam who was still sleeping fitfully where he had fallen earlier.

"I was just keeping an ear out for Emma," he said contritely, crossing over to stand closer to where Maddie was resting against a thick trunk.

Maddie looked around, her voice shrinking even more. "Do you think that she can find us?"

Dean gave a none comital shrug. "Anything is possible." The fact that Emma had possibly found them once already wasn't heartening and Dean straightened to his full height, moving back towards Sam and Maddie. If he was going to attack someone, it would be in the dead of night and he couldn't shake the feeling that the demon was hovering somewhere close by, that she knew exactly where they were and was just biding its time.

Oh, the price he would pay for a whole canister of salt, or maybe ten.

Sam shifted, making a faint keening sound before stilling once more and Dean frowned. Maddie followed his gaze. "He's going to be alright, won't he?"

That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it?

"Sam'll be fine. He always is."

Maddie shook her head, laughing derisively. "I can't believe you have an 'always'. Stuff like this is not a daily occurrence for most of us."

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world." The words came out much more bitter than Dean had intended and Maddie gave him a small, almost pitying smile.

"So you really do this? You really hunt down all these…monsters? For a living?"

Dean sighed again. He really, really, didn't want to be having the talk with Maddie, not right now. "Yup. I've got some pretty cool stories out of the deal."

"Don't they frighten you?" Maddie was twisting her fingers in her jacket and, after another glance around, Dean dropped down to sit next to her. Snapping a nearby leaf off a bush, he began to methodically rip it to shreds.

"Nah, I know how to kill 'em all, and even the ones that we don't, we figure it out." No, monsters didn't even rank in the top ten of things that scared Dean, not even close.

"Oh…what does then?"

"Old women in skimpy outfits. Oh, and electric cars. Who thought those were a good idea? Go past 50 mph and they are likely to fall' apart in the middle of the highway. Just saying."

Maddie smiled and for a brief moment, Dean caught sight of the waitress from before, and then her own fear settled back in, drawing deep lines in her face. "But what—"

"Maddie," Dean began, cutting her off before she could really get going. "I know that we kinda turned your whole world upside down, but just accept it and move on. That's what I had to do. Monsters are real, no it's and but's about it. Are you likely to run into another one again? No. Sam could probably sprout all these crazy statistics about that, but all I can tell you is that I've never had to save anyone twice. Hell, I've hardly had to go back to the same town twice, with the exception of places like New York or Chicago."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't."

Dean smiled, tossing the stem away and reaching for another leaf. "That's more of Sam's specialty." Exasperation and fondness tickled Dean's heart as he looked back over at his brother. "Maddie, you are going to go on and live a full, happy, life and this will just be a bad nightmare by tomorrow, alright?"

Maddie didn't look satisfied, but Dean had already tuned his senses outwards again. His nerves were tingling and he got up, pacing a few steps away,

That was when the whistling began.

It was faint, but clear and distinct and it only took Dean a few minutes to recognize the tune. Only a demon would pick The Devil Went Down to Georgia. But it was a clear warning that Emma was close, that she had picked up their general scent even if she couldn't nail them down. That she was still out there, ready and waiting to attack.

It was an intimidation tactic, and damn if it didn't work just a little bit.

Dean's heart began to beat faster in his chest and he scanned the area anew, backing around toward Sam and Maddie. Maddie looked petrified, her hands twisting together and her eyes brimming with tears.

"That's not good," Dean muttered, his mind running through their options. Sam couldn't move, not yet, not till he got some strength back, and if Dean was being honest then he was tired too. They needed a few more hours to regroup and rest.

That probably was what Emma wanted to force them to keep moving and tire them out, but they weren't going to play their game. However, they also needed better protection. Something that would keep the demon away 'cause Dean wouldn't leave his back open. Struck with a sudden idea, he began to scavenge around for a large stick.

"This may or may not work, but we are going with it," he said over his shoulder, answering Maddie's unspoken question. "Hopefully this will provide some sort of warding against the demon."

Finding a suitable thick stick, Dean paced out away from where Sam and Maddie were lying and began to draw a large circle in the dirt around them. The whistling stopped and Maddie jumped, arms wrapping around herself for warmth. Dean stopped too, listening.

"I think we are still good," he said a moment later and with some hesitation before bending back over, continuing to drag deep lines into the ground. The ground was harder in some spots than others and the result was a rather wobbly and uneven circle.

"Art project?" Maddie asked and Dean shrugged as he moved inwards, eyes still on the ground.

"More like an ancient language project. This is a devil's trap and it does exactly what it sounds like. We use them to trap demons, exorcism them, and then send 'em back to hell." Dean began to back up, stopping to draw a particularly complicated-looking symbol in the dirt and scoffing. "I don't usually find myself inside of one, but I can guarantee you that the demon won't lay a pretty finger inside, which means that she is gonna have to draw us out. Until then, we can get some rest and the demon can stew."

"Oh…okay."

Dean grinned at her expression which looked anything but confident. He stepped over Sam and bent down again, chipping away at a particularly dry patch. "I'm like 92.7% sure this will work, so don't worry." Dean paused, admiring his work before scuffing out one of the symbols and redoing it. "Again, I don't think that she actually knows our exact location. It doesn't...doesn't feel dark enough for that. She is just trying to intimidate us."

Flipping the stick in his hands, he slammed it point down in the dirt so that it stuck, quivering there, and moved to straddle Sam's body. Bending down, he slipped an arm under Sam's knees and, while holding his breath tentatively, shifted his legs over to the left and bent his knees up towards his stomach. Sam grunted, his breath catching as his face creased in pain.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," Dean whispered and Sam stilled, sighing a little before going lax. Finishing curling him up into a smaller ball, Dean patted his chest and picked up his stick again, drawing a line right where Sam's legs had been.

"Is it kinda like a magic circle?" Maddie asked, disbelief continuing to waver in and out of her voice.

"Yeah, something like that." Dean moved across from her and tapped her good foot lightly with his to get her to scoot over. At last, he stepped back, dropping the stick and brushing off his hands. Looking it over, he nodded in appeasement. Dirt wasn't exactly the best material to be working with, but he wasn't going to complain.

Moving gingerly so as not to break any of the lines, Dean eased himself down into a free spot and rested his sore and aching arms on his knees.

It wasn't five minutes later that the whistling started up again.

Dean looked up, making note of where it was coming from before bowing his head once again, keeping silent watch.

About every twenty minutes the whistling would start up again, sending shivers up and down Dean's back but after a while, he found it almost reassuring. Emma clearly had no clue where they were, not exactly. She wasn't moving in on them, just trying to scare them.

Sam began to fitfully stir sometime around three in the morning, his eye fighting to open just as the whistling began again. Dean edged closer, keeping one eye on him and the other on the woods, but Sam lost the fight after several minutes and his eyes remained stubbornly closed as he drifted off once more.

It wasn't until the cool grey dawn that Sam finally managed to fully rouse himself.

Face twisting up in pain, Sam shivered in the cold air, one arm slipping free enough to bring Dean's jacket further over his shoulders.

"You up for good this time?" Dean asked, turning his head with a wince of his own as he stretched out overused muscles. Sam made a soft noise in the back of his throat in response and Dean turned his attention fully onto him rather than the woods around them.

Clambering stiffly to his feet, Dean crouched next to Sam and gripped his shoulder firmly. Sam squinted up at him as his eyes face clouded over into a grimace and his free hand moved towards his heavily bandaged middle.

Dean tapped his shoulder, regaining his attention. "How you doin'?" He dropped his voice as Maddie let out a snore and rolled over.

Sam processed his words for a minute and shrugged. "Been better," he finally admitted and Dean's heart twisted.

"We just have to make it back to my baby, then you can sit this one out." Dean's sought out Sam's eyes and grinned broadly. Sam grimaced, his head rolling back as his eyes slipped closed once more.

"Is Maddie up?" he asked, his voice thick and heavy.

"Nah, but she can sleep for another few while we get some fuel into you but then we'll hit the road again." Dean checked his watch and did a double-take. The whistling routine that Emma had her heart so set upon should have been started and finished by now.

"What is it?"

Dean looked up to find Sam looking at him shrewdly, his eyes all too knowing.

"Just Emma playing games, don't worry about it."

"No, no, no. That's not a 'don't worry about it' look." Reaching out, Sam grabbed onto Dean's shoulder and began to lever himself up into a sitting position. The exercise left him breathless and pale, but Dean didn't comment on it, simply passing him the water bottle and keeping a hand on his arm.

Dean recounted the new turn of events as Sam took slow sips of water, nodding occasionally or stopping to ask a question. He finally shook his head, capping the water. "You should have made for the car last night, while Emma was stationary."

"Maybe," Dean sighed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "But we aren't exactly Dr. Who here. No time-turners to go back, so we are just going to have to make do."

"Harry Potter."

"What?" Dean pulled a face.

"Harry Potter. Time-tuners are from…you know what, never mind." Sam hunched forward, closing his eyes as he breathed out slowly. Dean nudged his hand.

"You should drink more," he ordered, "We've got to keep you hydrated, 'cause you so don't need any more problems than you already have."

"Yeah, because we have so much. When was the last time you had any?" Sam fried back, if a little breathlessly, and Dean scoffed. He offered the bottle but Dean shoved it back into his chest with a pointed glare. Sam's eyes narrowed and then clear exhaustion rolled over him, bowing his back and tightening the lines around his eyes. He uncapped the bottle, taking another sip.

Dean couldn't help but notice that his hands were shaking.

"You're sure that you are up to this?" he asked, accepting the water this time when Sam passed it to him.

Sam snorted. "Not like we have a choice."

"Right," Dean ran a hand roughly through his hair, his eyes sliding away from Sam's face.

"Hey. Drink."

Dean looked back over, surprised but Sam was motioning to the bottle with a listless wave.

"We've been over this already—"

"Drink."

It startled a short bark of laughter from Dean, though what was funny about it he didn't know. Shaking his head with exasperation, he took several quick swallows. Sam was down, but not out.

Standing, Dean tossed the now mostly empty bottle into the duffle and rooted out a package of peanut butter crackers. "Eat that. I'm gonna get Maddie up." He made his way over to Maddie, no longer avoiding scuffing the lines in the dirt up. Not like it would do them much good in just a moment anyway.

"Hey…hey, Maddie?" Dean reached out, shaking her shoulder, waiting until she had blinked her eyes open before continuing, "We've got to get moving again, alright?"

Confusion, pain, and fear filtered across her face, and Dean's stomach clenched. "Here," he offered her the second package of crackers and their last water bottle and then moved back to Sam, who was wrapping the plastic wrapper back up around the remaining crackers, offering them up to Dean. He took them, choosing not to press the issue for the moment. It was a minor miracle that he had gotten Sam to eat anything at all.

"Do you need a hand up?"

"No," Sam said stiffly as he eased onto his knees, panting lightly. Dean moved over despite Sam's glare, letting one arm hover behind Sam's back and offering his own forearm for Sam to brace against. Sam grabbed it, pushing upwards, and almost going down again when his knees refused to lock. Dean's hand shot up, clenching the back of his shirt while his other hand moved up to Sam's chest, steadying him.

"Nice and easy," he murmured, waiting patiently for Sam to find his equilibrium.

Sam let him hold him up for a minute as he panted before nodding and lightly pushing his way past Dean's arms. Dean slowly removed his hands, watching wearily for any signs that Sam wouldn't be able to stand on his own before taking a step back and stooping to reclaim his jacket that had ended up on the forest floor.

"Wait for me," he ordered as he slipped into it and hurried back towards Maddie. She was still blinking tiredly and, unlike Sam made no effort to push herself up. Dean simply slid his hands under her body, ignoring the burn of protesting muscle, and hefted her jerkily up.

She grunted, just holding back a cry of pain, and her hands came up to clench at the lapel of Dean's jacket as he shifted her closer to his chest.

"How far away are we?" She asked, her head dropping back down and Dean shrugged as he made towards Sam, who was bent over, one hand pressed against the tree and the other against his wound.

"About another mile."

Maddie snorted as she twitched into a comfortable position. "That means so much to me. How much longer, if you had to hazard a guess?"

Dean blew out a breath. "Well, give or take the time it might take to battle a demon, I'd say two hours at least."

"Oh…" Maddie let out a soft sound of frustration that Dean related to very much.

"Not a morning person, huh?" he asked with a smile as he moved closer to Sam, once again offering his shoulder. Sam let go of the tree and staggered into Dean, who tried very hard not to notice just how heavily Sam was leaning against him or how hard he was breathing into his ear.

Glancing around the trees, Dean mentally paved their path and started walking, angling them more north and once again towards the main path and the bridge.

The sun slowly crept over them, warming the chill from the air until their clothes were starting to stick to their skin. Along with the rising sun, the dull roar of the river had been creeping upon them, and more than anything that gave Dean hope.

They were close to the river, which meant they were getting close to the bridge. Then they would just have to get past Emma and whatever form she had taken.

Still, it came as a small surprise when they broke through a thick patch of trees and onto the bank of the furiously flowing river. Sam breathed out what sounded like a long sigh of relief against Dean's neck, his fingers digging painfully deep into his shoulder.

"'t's the 'Mpala…" he gasped out, raising his other hand to shakily point across the river. Sure enough, they could just see the beautiful black hood of Dean's baby, glinting from the parking log on the far side of the river. The bridge itself stood only a short distance off and for the first time, Dean felt hope flare in his heart.

"See, Baby always comes through." Dean cast a glance behind him, a real smile on his face for what felt like the first time since this whole fiasco had started. Sam wasn't looking at him, his eye fixed across the river.

Sam looked terrible, however, with his face bathed in a fine sheen of sweat and his hair matted and sticking up at odd angles.

"We should probably get back into the tree line."

Sam agreed with a jerky nod, his eyes slowly moving to the bridge. "It doesn't look like anyone is there…" he said hopefully over the sounds of the river as they stepped back into the shade of the trees.

"I dunno. I wouldn't count on Emma not being there," Dean said hesitantly.

"But if she's not…" Maddie piped up, sounding so wistful that it almost hurt. Sam and Dean exchanged a dark glance and Maddie lifted her head, looking between them and trying to read what was passing between them.

"I'm just saying…What if she really did leave, what if she is out looking for us right now," she insisted.

"It's…it's a thought," Sam finally said and Maddie shook her head, dropping it back down against Dean's chest.

"I know that you guys think that was stupid or something but believe it or not most of us don't go around doing this all day. I just…I just wanna go home. I want this to all be over and for everything to go back to the way that it was."

"Maddie, no, we don't think that, at all," Dean looked down at her, surprise crossing his face. "We're just trying to come up with a way to get us all home, I promise." Maddie snorted, wrapping her free fingers into the hem of her shirt and twisting as she blinked rapidly.

Sam's face said that all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and hug her until her worries disappeared and Dean cleared his throat. Sam flinched a little, jerking his eyes back to Dean's.

"We, ah, actually do need the barest outline of a plan. I know that we kept saying that we would figure it out when we got there, but here we are and we still have zilch."

Sam tracked his words, processed them, and shook his head. "Everything depends on where exactly the demon is, that changes everything, and we don't know, so…"

"Ah, yes, the wing-it plan. My favorite. See, that wasn't so difficult," Dean trailed off, continuing to mutter under his breath as he began to move them in the direction of the bridge.

"As long as you don't go off half-cocked on your own, okay. We are going to figure it out together. Dean?"

Dean didn't answer and Sam's fingers dug into his shoulder.

"Seriously, man, what's up? You're all strung out."

"All I wanted was to burn up some witch's altar. Was it too much to ask, for it to be witches and for me to be able to play with explosives?" He smirked back at Sam but his brother stopped so suddenly that Dean spun around as first instinct told him that Sam was about to fall flat on his face again. Only Sam was glaring at him.

"Dean, man, cut the freaking bullcrap for a minute, why don't you?"

"Excuse me?" Dean's own temper flared and he straightened his back in disbelief. Sam took a deep breath, wiping his hand across his face as he appeared to be counting back from five.

"It's just…Dean, you've been trying to push your way through this, all with just a smile and—"

"—Do you really freaking see me smiling, cause I sure as hell don't remember doing much of it—"

"—And just trying to be this one-man show or something. Dean, you don't always have to take risks by yourself."

Dean narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards Sam. "And what? You get to? If the demon comes after you..."

"Dean!" Sam rubbed a hand across his face in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You gotta just…believe, have trust in me, Dean. Hell, you and Dad were the ones that taught me everything I know. If it comes after me, I won't make it easy."

Dean threw back his head in annoyance since he couldn't use his hands. "This isn't about not trusting you, dude. I do and you know that, but you've been leaking blood and-and, I mean if you could see yourself. You look like a hard breeze could knock you over." He hadn't meant to let that much fear into his voice and he refused to glance over, to see that doe-eye look on Sam's face.

"Dean, don't you get that—"

"I honestly couldn't think of a better time to have this discussion," Dean broke in, "Not somewhere safe like over dinner or while holed up in a motel room. No, while we are on a run from a demon and you are in danger of bleeding out. Sam, we can talk about my deal later because that is what this is really about."

All the energy seemed to deflate out of Sam and he leaned a little heavier against the tree. "Right. Because you will just be dying to have that discussion later."

Dean ground his teeth together, taking his own turn to count backward from ten. "Sam…" he began as evenly as he could. "Later. If you start ripin' me a new one right now, then the demon will be onto us before you could even get the first sentence out. Just…later."

Sam appeared mollified as he looked anywhere but at Dean but he did let out a long sigh that had the weight of the world behind it. "Sorry. I didn't..." he trailed off and Dean nodded once, forcing a grin across his face.

"Getting stabbed does tend to make you grumpy."

Sam reattached himself to Dean's shoulder and they continued on for a moment. Dean opened his mouth once, before shutting it again, trying to figure out how to break his plan, really the only plan, to Sam. To his surprise, it was Sam who spoke first.

"You're going to have to leave us behind." His words were short, his voice defeated, and Dean turned on instinct.

"Sam," he said softly, his own gut clenching instinctively but he knew as well as Sam did that this was their only option. He had been working up to saying it himself, he just didn't like Sam sounding that way.

"No, you are right," Sam continued in that same voice. "The demon is going to be waiting for us at the bridge and all we have is a handful of salt to fight her off with. You need to get to the Impala and I'm not winning any foot races here. If I came with you, then you are going to be worried about watching both of us, of defending me. Hell, I'm a liability rather than an asset in this fight."

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I just don't see any other option, Sam."

"We could play into her hand, you know, send me out as bait and draw her away while you get to the car, get some more weapons," Sam hedged.

"No." The cold fear that surged through Dean's heart made him feel sick. "Hell's gonna freeze over first."

Sam didn't look surprised and quickly relented. "Okay, okay, bad idea."

"You think?"

Both were silent for a long moment. Maddie was staring straight ahead, looking anxious and unsure of what to do. Dean related.

All he wanted was for Sam to be safe, was that too much to ask?

#

Sam watched Dean turn and walk stiffly back towards the bridge, Pushing off the tree, he limped after him as quickly as he could. In a perfect world, he would have been there to back Dean up, to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, but this wasn't a perfect world.

They had learned that lesson at a very young age.

If Dean was going to be fully focused on this fight then he needed Sam out of the picture because the demon would go after the injured one, after him. And he knew only too well how desperate Dean got when Sam was involved, how stupid he got.

Still, Sam's stomach churned at the thought of Dean facing off against a demon with very few weapons.

"Sam?" Dean's eyes were a mixture of anger, concern, and fear when he turned back and Sam quickly nodded.

"Coming," Pushing his legs a little faster, he moved up to where Dean was waiting.

Still, Dean's back remained rigid, and his shoulder's taunt as he blazed a trail for them through the thick forest. He only slowed when it became apparent that Sam was having trouble keeping up and from then on his glances become more frequent, more worried, and the lines around his eyes grew stark.

"Not much farther now," he kept saying and Sam nodded, not wasting energy or words on an actual reply as his breath punched in and out of his chest. The small amount of energy he had had this morning was no more than a wishful thought none and nothing short of pure stubbornness was keeping him on his feet.

But it would be enough to see him through.

"Hold up," Dean suddenly whispered, his back going rigid with attention and Sam came to a stumbling stop and attempted to hold his breath, to stop the wheezing that was sure to give them away at any second.

They stood there, in complete silence, for several long seconds before Dean again motioned them forward once more. Creeping slowly but steadily forward, Dean finally halted them near a large group of trees and jerked his head to the side. Sam nodded once, letting go of his brother so that he could grip the tree next to him. If the world tilted a little and he stumbled more than leaned against the tree, well, denial was everything, right?

Dean eased down onto his knees, dropping Maddie gently to the ground and leaning her up against a tree. She looked up at him, the uncertainty and fear clear on her face but Dean only grinned, giving her a small wink before standing. Stretching out tense muscles, he turned to Sam, ready to offer a hand down but Sam was shaking his head.

"I can stand," he insisted in a low tone, shaking off Dean's attempts to grab his arm.

"Yeah, of course, you can, Humpty-dumpty, but just in case…" he trailed off as Sam continued to shake his head and fend off his attempts at help.

"How far away are we from the bridge?" Sam asked instead, still trying to push his brother off and Dean finally relented.

"Not far, within yelling distance. Speaking of which, you know the drill. Don't leave here—"

"Yeah, yeah." Sam waved Dean off once again, and Dean's eyes narrowed.

"I mean it, Sam. Trust me."

That made Sam pause. He did trust him, trusted him more than he trusted himself, and certainty more than he had his father. And he had thrown in his vote to get left behind…but if Dean was in trouble and Sam knew it...well, he would do whatever it took to save his brother.

Dean and Sam shared one last emphatic glance, and then Dean was gone, slipping into the trees with only a little holy water and salt to aid in the fight against a demon.

Chapter Text

Dean shoved his way through the thick branches with the uttermost care, pushing them back into place with a silence that only came with years of training. As much as he hated to admit it, he had left behind both a physical and emotional burden with his brother and Maddie, and it allowed him to move with a lightness that had been lacking for the course of the day. Shifting his grip on the canister of holy water, he found himself feeling strangely in control for the first time since Sam had shown up on the path, bleeding and rambling about demons. In fact, he was ready and gearing up for this fight, ready to sink his teeth into the bitch and end her once and for all.

Nobody got away with stabbing his brother. Nobody.

The bridge came into view and Dean bent low, using the brush as coverage as he scoped the scene. On the other side of the river, he could see the Impala and a couple of others cars scattered throughout the small parking lot. The was no sign of life there and the bridge itself was empty. That only left—Standing loosely just off to the side was the man that they had run into earlier on the trail. He was leaning against a tree, whittling away at a branch like he had nothing better to do.

Dean leered, his hands tightening into fists. Fantasy could only carry one so far but Dean was working on years and years of experience. This demon had nothing on him. Edging backward into the trees, he disappeared and began to blaze his way back down, making sure to stay out of eyesight at all times. Once he was a satisfying distance away, he crossed the path and headed straight for the demon.

Or if it wasn't a demon then some poor fool who was about to get soaked.

Moving with practiced ease, Dean went from tree to tree, until he was directly behind the tree that the demon was leaning against.

Idiot.

Without giving the demon chance to sense his presence, Dean leaped around it, upending the canister over his head and reveling in the primal sense of satisfaction as the demon screamed, flinching and jerking as its skin began to sizzle and smoke. Wrapping an arm around its neck, Dean yanked it backward and slammed its head into the tree. The demon snarled, jerking away before Dean could tighten his grip.

Rolling back, it staggered to its feet, still smoking. Dean followed with a left hook to the face and the demon threw up an arm to protect itself.

"Saving your own skin, huh, rather than being saddled with your brother?" it gasped out, trying for a leer but the effect was somewhat ruined when Dean's fist smashed into its nose, breaking it.

Dean said nothing as he forced the demon backward with a series of rapid-fire punches. It growled low in its throat and lunged forward, throwing its own punch that sent Dean sprawling onto the ground. Stumbling to his feet, Dean threw himself right back in but the demon caught his fist, wrapping its free hand around his arm and tugging it viciously backward, pulling the muscle taut.

"Sonofabitch!" Dean couldn't help the gasped yell as his arm threatened to pop out of joint. The demon laughed right in his ear, his breath warm, and Dean cringed away.

"Dude, gross. That's just wrong," he ground out, trying to wriggle free. "Maybe when you were Emma you could have gotten away with that, but…"

"Name's Terry now." The demon laughed again and Dean took the moment to slam the heel of his boots down onto Terry's sneakers. The demon jerked and Dean slammed the back of his head into its face.

Terry howled, releasing him in surprise and Dean spun around, making for the bridge. If he could get to the car then this nasty SOB wouldn't stand a chance. He ducked the first swing that came his way, returning one of his own but Terry wasn't a small guy and had the unfair advantage of a demon super powering him.

He plowed into Dean, shoving him face-first into a wooden beam. Dean grunted, riding through the pain and once again twisting in an attempt to break free.

"See, I knew that you'd come to the bridge," Terry taunted in his ear and if Dean had another hand free, he would have clapped.

"Well, huzzah for you. It's not like that was the only place we could go. Did it take you all night to figure that out?"

Terry didn't appear phased at all by the sarcasm. "But where's dear little Sammy…and that girl you picked up. I'm surprised she was still alive, but oh well. She won't be when this is all over."

Dean didn't answer and the demon chuckled in his ear, pressing far too close for comfort. "When I picked up this meat suit, I could see its memories. I know that Sammy isn't doing well. You're their only hope. Only, I knew that when push came to shove, you'd make a break for it, to try and save them but you are going to die with the knowledge that you failed. That it is all your fault, that their deaths are your fault."

"I dunno if I would blame myself, I wasn't exactly the one holding the knife or possessing 'em," Dean tried once again, throwing his best cocky smile over his shoulder. A hand came up, wrapping in his hair and yanking his head back.

The demon's eyes were wide and crazed, gleeful and lustful all at the same time.

Dean forced his grin back onto his face. "Just a little bit of helpful advice, you're confusing reality and fantasy and, as disappointing as it is to all of us, they just don't mesh. People aren't going to play by your rules." Dean's gaze steadied as he looked into Terry's eyes, watching with a little bit of satisfaction as they flickered black. "All this is only goin' to get you dead that much faster."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying that most monsters stay away from us. You wanna know why?"

Terry released his hold on his hair, swinging Dean around and shoving an arm up against his throat, almost lifting him up off his feet.

"They didn't have the guts," Terry snarled as Dean gasped, both hands coming up to tug uselessly at the arm of iron.

"Who didn't?" he wheezed out. If he could keep Terry talking, keep him from murdering him, then he might be able to toss him over the bridge and into the river. He just needed time and some leverage…

"They didn't have the guts, the other demons down below. To kill a hunter is cause for power and celebration, for power and authority. Most just hide away, making their deals or sneaking under other skins, killing only one or two. But no, I'm making a name for myself, I'm going to scare them all. After all, who showed up to my crime scene but the hunters...and to kill a Winchester…" he grinned, showing all of his teeth, and brought the knife up. It glinted in the sunlight and Dean eyed it wearily, still trying to breathe around the arm pressing into his jugular. The knife flicked out, cutting a deep gash underneath Dean's eye that had him grunting. "To kill two Winchesters, well, let's just say that after I carve my initials into your corpses that—"

Dean rammed his knee up, catching the demon right where it counted, and then rammed him backward. Terry was caught off guard by the movement and his eyes went wide as he almost dropped the knife and had to fumble to catch it.

The sudden crack of a bullet that tore through Terry's chest took both of them by surprise and Dean's head shot up.

Cold fear and dismay coiled up his stomach as he saw Sam standing at the end of the bridge, gun raised, and face determined.

#

Sam stared at the place where Dean had disappeared, his heart jumping up into his throat as he listened intently. Maddie was seemingly holding her breath as well, her gaze fixed in the direction that Dean had gone.

The seconds slowly ticked into minutes and Sam found himself gripping the tree harder than before. If he had thought that running through the woods was exhausting, it was nothing compared to this waiting and not knowing. Sam scoffed at himself as he wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He was out of practice. The first several years of his life had been nothing but waiting. Wait in a motel room, wait in the car, wait at the perimeter, wait—

A scream cut through the air and Sam straightened, his heart pounding in his chest. That wasn't Dean. It sounded like a man, but it wasn't deep enough to be Dean. He poised on the balls of his feet, his wound forgotten for the moment as his instinct to fight, to save whoever was in danger kicked in.

"Sonofabitch!"

It was faint, and if Sam hadn't been straining his ears then he wouldn't have heard it, but this time it was defiantly Dean. Sam lurched forward, holding onto the next tree. There was pain in his brother's voice, he could hear it, but...

Sam knew that he wouldn't be of much use. He was going to be nothing more than a liability if he went out there, and he might get Dean killed if he went out there right now… On the other hand, if Dean was seriously hurt then the demon wasn't going to waste any time killing him. Sam had already doomed his brother once, he wasn't going to again, not if he could help it.

Making up his mind, Sam turned to Maddie.

"I'll be right back," he hissed and she jerked her head up, her eyes wide.

"No, Dean said not to, Dean said—"

But Sam was already gone, pushing his way roughly through the trees, using them as crutches when his own feet threatened to give out from underneath him. Dean was right, the bridge was not that far away. He was already picking up the sounds of a fight. Flesh hitting flesh, strangled grunts and groans of pain, and Dean's cursing.

Breaking through the last of the underbrush, he staggered back onto the path, taking in the scene at the bridge.

Dean was pressed up against the railing of the bridge, his feet almost off the ground as a man flashed a knife up against his face. It sliced downwards and Sam saw the blood spurt even from this distance and something snapped in his heart. A hard, fast, anger coursed through his body, lending strength where weakness had only been before.

Charging the last few steps to the bridge, Sam steadied his legs, taking a solid stance as he pulled out his gun. Dean may have been injured, but he wasn't down for the count and he thrust out up his knee, catching the demon hard and sending him staggering back at the unexpected force.

Dean dropped to the ground, coughing harshly and cupping a hand over his bleeding face.

Sam had the perfect shot and without pausing to think he pulled the trigger.

The shot was true and the demon stared down with surprise as blood began to lazily spurt from his chest. Dean flinched back, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Sam before anger channeled into the glare he aimed in his direction, but Sam's focus was on the man turning to face him.

The demon smiled lazily, ignoring the blood that was dripping both from his nose and from his chest, twirling the knife easily.

"Sammy, what took you so long? I was just starting to believe that Dean really had left you behind to die, that he loved his own skin more than yours. And what about the girl, did you abandon her when things got rough?"

"You can go to hell," Dean snarled from behind it and the demon rounded on him, sticking a hand on his hip.

"Now, Dean-o, we were just starting to have fun, no reason to throw such a hissy fit. I still think your face will be so much prettier after I carve my initials into it."

"Don't you dare touch him." Sam edged closer, the gun still raised.

"Oh, darlin', what are you going to do? Shoot me?" The man sniggered, advancing on Sam. Sam held his ground for a moment before beginning to back up.

"Hey!" Dean lurched forward but Sam gave a minute shake of his head, jerking it emphatically towards the car and Dean faltered. It was a split-second decision, and one Sam knew would cost his brother, but it was all the time he had.

Dean turned and bolted across the bridge.

The demon turned, watching him as he shifted his grip on the knife. "Hey! I'm gonna rip poor Sammy limb from limb!" When that didn't get Dean to turn back, he huffed in frustration, glancing at Sam. "You can wait, I'll—"

The bullet that tore through the demon's face, seemed to take him by surprise and as his head jerked back and he sat down hard. Sam clenched onto the grip of the gun, forcing the trigger down again and again and sending bullet after bullet tearing through the demon.

"Would you—stop it!" The demon jerked with each bullet, unable to quite get to its feet as Sam continued his rain of gunfire. Something snapped in the demon's one good remaining eye, the other nothing more than a bloody hole, and a vicious snarl began low in the back of its throat.

"Fine. If that's how you want to pay, let's play."

#

The bullets wouldn't stop Terry forever and the only advantage that they could possibly have was sitting in the Impala's trunk, safely locked away, and Dean ran faster than he thought he had ever run before. The bridge shook underneath his feet as the gun continued to crack. His baby wasn't that far away, shining just ahead of him bright and beautiful, but each pounding of his legs, each searing breath, reminded Dean that he had run out of time, that Sam was out of time.

Reaching the end of the wooden bridge, Dean leaped over the parking blocks, dodged past a Ford pickup, and skidded toward the Impala. Taking the turn a little too quickly, he almost went down but caught himself by his fingers tips and pushed off the ground, ramming into the trunk.

The report of the gun had stopped.

"Damnit!" Scrambling with the key Dean glanced over his shoulder and immediately wished that he hadn't. Terry had managed to get Sam on the ground and was straddling him.

He hadn't sold his soul for some low-level demon with one messed up kink to come in and crash the party. Digging the key into the lock, he scratched the metal but found that he didn't care in the slightest as he thrust the lid and the fake bottom up. Scanning the contents, he began to jam shotgun shells into his pocket as he simultaneously attempted to grab the gallon of holy water and the sawed-off.

Leaving the trunk wide open, he skidded around the car and took off again, pushing his legs to go faster as he tucked the water under one arm and checked the gun. It already had two salt-fill shells inside and he pumped it once, guaranteeing that it would be ready.

Sam let out a loud scream and Dean bolted forward, his heart somewhere in his throat. All he could see was Terry's straining back and Sam's legs bucking as he tried to throw him off. Pouring on the speed, Dean dropped the water and raised the sawed-off to eye level.

"HEY! BITCH!"

#

Sam pulled the trigger again, aiming for the demon's other good eye, but the gun gave an empty click.

The man's face split into a devilish grin.

"Runnin' a little low, are we?" It snarled, pulling itself to its feet.

"Bite me," Sam growled, backing up a step and risking a glance toward Dean. He was reaching the end of the bridge and would be at the car in seconds.

"Oh, I'll bite." It grinned through the blood, straightening and lunging towards Sam. Sam swung the butt of his gun up but it was easily knocked aside as the demon's arms went around his waist and slammed him straight into the ground.

Straddling him, Terry thrust his hand directly into Sam's old wound, breaking through both the bandages and any healing that may have happened.

Sam screamed, bucking up under the weight as everything went white and pain consumed him.

Over his head, he could faintly hear Terry laughing, a deep gruff thing, as his hand sunk in deeper. If it was even possible the pain increased and dark spots began to dance in front of Sam's eyes, inviting him to escape the pain. He retched weakly instead, his stomach protesting the abuse and Terry leaned down, increasing the weight.

Gasping, Sam bucked his hips weakly, desperate to throw him off, to ease the pain, to make it all just stop.

And then suddenly the pressure was gone.

Sucking in a grating breath, Sam rolled onto his side, coughing harshly as he retched again but that only made the pain worse. Curling up, he clenched his hands together and tried not to throw up.

Demon. He had to... Where was the demon?

Gagging, he forced his watering eyes open. Terry was standing just above him and his hand, which was held at his side, was coated in deep red blood. It dripped slowly off his fingers, splattering down to land in the dirt next to Sam's face. The strong scent of iron hit him hard and he gagged again as Terry stepped away.

Lifting his head from the ground, Sam flinched back as the sound of a shotgun reverberated through the air, making his ears ring.

This time it was Terry's turn to scream as he stumbled back, scrambling desperately at his chest as his skin burned and bubbled.

Salt would do that to a demon.

Salt meant shotgun. Shotgun meant Dean.

Dean was there.

Grimacing with relief, Sam let his head fall back into the dirt and simply attempted to breathe correctly. The gun went off again and Terry stumbled back, his legs catching against Sams's and he fell back with a cry. The knife in was holding went flying, landing in the dirt next to Sam.

Sam dragged his hand across the ground, reaching for the brightly glinting metal.

It was just a few inches away from his face but his fingers weren't working. Terry was scrambling at his back, shoving himself over Sam and reaching for the knife as well. His hand closed around the knife seconds before Sam reached it and his fingers scrabbled uselessly at the back of his fist. Terry snapped his hand up, catching Sam hard across the face.

Sam grunted, feeling something in his nose give, but what was a little more pain compared to the hot agony that was still coursing up from his side.

Terry flung himself away from Sam, rising up to meet Dean who was running towards them. No...no, she couldn't have Dean.

Sam blinked dazedly in that direction, his eyesight wavering. The look on Dean's face really should have sent Terry running in the opposite direction, it would have sent him running anyway, but the demon just kept going.

Dean's arm came up in an arc and the water droplets sparkled in the air as they soared through it before they hit Terry full in the face. Shrieking and sizzling, Terry once again dropped the knife to paw at his skin instead. Sam watched, fascinated as he writhed, desperate to escape the torture but Dean wasn't letting up anytime soon, upending the gallon over his head.

Rolling over, Sam coughed out a groan but the knife was right there….

Wrapping it tightly in his fist, Sam forced his body up onto his elbow, gripping the knife as fiercely as his waning strength would allow.

Terry and Dean were dancing above him, around him, and over him, making the whole world spin in a way that it really shouldn't have been able to. Dean was attempting to complete an exorcism if the Latin was any indication but Terry was moving quickly, screaming over his words as holy water continued to be thrown into its face. Sam could feel the residue soaking into his clothes, splashing down onto his skin.

Closing his eyes, Sam willed himself to focus and for his hands to stop shaking. Panting harshly past the pain, he waited for the faint smell of sulfur to drift overhead before forcing his eyes open once more. Terry was steaming, his eyes wild and angry as he lunged at Dean, going in for the kill once and for all.

The game was up.

Sam waited for a second longer and then slammed the knife down with all his remaining strength.

It sunk through Terry's sneakers, through bone, and into the ground.

Terry screeched in surprise, twirling on its good leg and ramming his other foot into Sam's face. He went flying back, rolling away with the momentum as blood filled his mouth. Dean backed up several feet, breathing hard and bleeding badly from a cut along his collarbone, but his voice was steady as he continued the exorcism.

Terry gasped, positively vibrating as he jerked forward. It was the demon's final attempt to remain in its host and Terry stumbled, going down on a knee as Dean neared the end. His brother was moving, the words still flowing off his lips, his body looming in Sam's vision before his hand came to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Sam breathed heavily through his mouth, his broken nose too full of blood to be of use, and tried to keep track of everything through the haze that had filled his vision. Dragging his hand away from his bleeding gut, he wrapped it lightly around Dean's ankle and felt Dean shift a little closer though his attention never left Terry as he continued to writhe.

Fighting wearily against the urge to close his eyes, Sam wearily lifted them to watch Terry as well. His side was throbbing worse than ever and his fingers were starting to go numb. He knew that he should probably be worried about that but…it…all…

Dropping his head back down to the ground, Sam blinked rapidly and felt Dean's hand tighten almost painfully, as if he knew that Sam had reached the end of his endurance.

Something black rushed across his line of vision and then Terry was falling limply to the ground.

The demon was gone.

Terry was dead.

Regret and relief raced through Sam but the pain and dizziness overrode them, bearing down on him and dragging him away. Sam's eyes slid close and he breathed a long sigh.

Dean would be okay now. Dean was goin'…Dean was—

Sharp, harsh pain brought everything rushing back and Sam gasped, choking and coughing on the sudden rush of clarity. Dean's face was far too close to his, close enough that Sam could see the concern painted clearly in his eyes. Dean's mouth was moving and Sam stared at him for a long minute, trying to translate the gibberish that was being spoken above him.

"Wha—" Sam couldn't catch the groan in time and it slipped past his lips. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat as the blue from in the sky was seeped of its color and everything continued to spin.

"Hey, no, none of that. Hang in there, Sammy, just—" Dean broke himself off as he shifted position. His voice sounded terribly apologetic and Sam felt the beginnings of fear but then searing agony tore through his every nerve, blinding him, and causing his brain to short-circuit.

He wasn't sure of much else after that. At some point, he thought he was walking. Or being walked. The ground was certainly moving under his feet and then suddenly it wasn't. Instead, he was sitting down and staring at the interior of the Impala. Dean was cursing violently to the left of him, words that would have even made a sailor blush, but his hands were nothing but gentle as he manipulated Sam's legs further into the car and then leaned Sam back against the seat.

"Dean—" Sam hadn't meant for the word to come out as jumbled and frayed as it had…but maybe again that was just his hearing because Dean seemed to have understood him perfectly well.

"Yeah, I'm here. Don't move, okay, just sit still…" Dean reached up, patting Sam's chest hurriedly before ducking back out of the car. The door was shut firmly behind him and Sam stared at it, suddenly feeling horribly alone.

Working his mouth to gain enough saliva, Sam clenched his eyes shut. "Dean!" he called out in a pitifully weak voice but there was no answer. Raising his head an inch off the seat, Sam tried to see through the window. Everything was swirling, but he couldn't see any shape that resembled his brother.

"Dean?" he tried again but once again all he was met with was silence.

Dean had left him.

No, that wasn't right. Dean wouldn't leave him, had fought to stay with him and to keep him close. Dean wouldn't leave him, ever. Not even when Sam died and Dean didn't. Sam choked a little as he fumbled for the door handle. Grasping it, he attempted to pull himself upright but his body was too weak, his arms too tired. He couldn't do it.

Sinking back with a soft sob, Sam glanced down and froze, his brain trying desperately to put two and two together as he stared down at the blood covering his chest and jeans.

Dean had been bleeding, hadn't he?

Wrapping an arm around his middle, Sam dragged his fingers up and white-knuckled the door handle until he was sitting upright. His muscles began to tremble violently, unable to maintain the position, but Dean was out there, was possibly hurt...

It was no use and he crashed back, gasping.

Sam wasn't sure how long he sat in the car, noting only the gathering heat and the sweat that was making every cut on his face sting and his side ache before the back door suddenly swung open.

Jumping violently, Sam jerked around, trying to see what was happening.

Dean was outlined through the window, and he could hear him talking softly but it wasn't to him, not to Sam to…to Maddie. Sam rolled his head back along with the seat, trying to see over the edge but the movement made him even dizzier and he had to stop with a low moan.

"Hey, easy does it…" Dean's hand briefly brushed the back of his head, but he was still talking to Maddie, making sure that she was comfortable, Sam thought. A moment later Dean was leaning over across the seats and draping a blanket haphazardly over Sam.

Then the door was slammed shut before another opened and then Dean was right next to him.

"Okay, here we go—" Dean made quick work of tucking the blanket in tighter around Sam and pulling him over, closer to him. Sam's head hit Dean's shoulder but he didn't have the strength to keep it there and he could feel himself slipping down until his head was pressed awkwardly against Dean's forearm.

"Oh, for cryin'" Dean's mumble trailed off, and then Sam was being gently lowered down, his head coming to rest against Dean's thigh. Dean reached over him for the keys and Sam only just managed to catch his wrist, snagging onto it and clutching loosely.

"Dean—"

"On second, dude…" The Impala roared to life underneath him, the comforting vibrations sending a wave of pain over his already overtaxed body but Sam couldn't let go, not yet.

"Dean, you're hurt?" Sam trailed off, tugging on Dean's arm and knowing that Dean would understand what his hazy brain was trying to say. Dean was spinning the steering wheel around, the motion jerking Sam's hand off and his arm dropped down, his fingers trailing against the rough fiber of the carpet.

A moment later Dean's hand was pressed against his head, his fingers tangling in Sam's hair. "I'm okay, you're the one trying to get all your blood on the outside," he said gruffly and Sam relaxed back into the warmth that Dean was giving off.

"Oh. Good."

Dean made a strange noise over his head but Sam could only close his eyes, listening to the familiar rumble of the Impala as she lured him towards the calling darkness, towards sleep just like she had since his childhood.

Sam thought that he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder, shaking him, but by that point, he was too far gone to know for sure.

#

Dean watched as Terry hit the ground, the black smoke that had been the demon already gone.

He didn't need to check Terry's body to know that the poor man hadn't made it out of this fiasco alive and all he could do was bury the regret alongside the other hundreds of deaths that haunted him at night. Right now, he had to worry about Sam, Sam who was groaning weakly as he rolled limply over onto his back.

Thick, red, blood was already pooling beneath him, forming a puddle and Dean's heart skipped a beat. There was already so much blood staining the ground in great splotches where Sam had been laying.

"Sammy?" Dean dropped to his knees, quickly moving to brace Sam's shoulder and keep him still as he yanked his shirt up. The wound in Sam's side had been torn completely open, leaving a gaping hole that was spurting blood at an alarming rate. The stupid bitch really hadn't hesitated, just plunged her whole hand right in…Dean felt his stomach turn over.

"Sam, you with me?"

Sam didn't respond as his eyes rolled back in his head and Dean cursed under his breath as he used his own knife to rip Sam's already ruined shirt up the seam. Tearing a good chunk of cloth off, Dean quickly bunched it up and pressed it firmly against the freely bleeding wound.

Checking to make sure that Sam was still unconscious, Dean kept one hand on the bandage while he rolled Sam quickly over onto his bad side, increasing pressure. Sam grunted his face twisting in pain.

"Hold on, I'll be right back," Dean ordered as he slid his hand free, clambering to his feet. Sprinting for the car once again, he made a beeline for the trunk. With the first-aid tucked securely under his arm, he dashed back.

Sam hadn't moved in his absence and Dean tore open a pressure bandage before straddling his brother's legs and gently easing him over onto his back. Blood had already soaked through the wadded material and the ground was sticky with it.

Easing back his makeshift bandage, Dean pressed the real one in place and leaned down hard. Sam moaned underneath him, his eyes shooting open as his breath caught.

"Hey there, buddy, you with me?" Dean leaned in a little closer, forcing a smile onto his face. "I mean, checking out like this and leaving me with all the cleanup, C'mon, that's just weak."

"Wha…" Sam trailed off, his eyes slipping close again and Dean's heart dropped.

"No, no, no. Hey, none of that, open your eyes. Hey, c'mon."

Sam was bleeding out. In his arms. Again.

"Open your damn eyes, Sam!"

Sam flinched, his eyes flashing open and Dean breathed, forcing another smile onto his face. "Hey…"

The warmth of new blood was beginning to seep through the bandage and onto his hands and Dean resisted the urge to hit something.

He was going to have to add more pressure, he needed to stop the bleeding...

Dean leaned down harder, ignoring the way that Sam lurched in his hold or how he gargled something before going completely limp as his head rolled forward. This was far too much like Cold Oak and Dean bowed his head, focused solely on stopping the bleeding, or at least getting it under control.

At least Sam's spinal cord wasn't severed, that was something. This was fixable with several pints of blood and a hospital.

Or at least he prayed that it was.

"C'mon!" Dean shifted position again, mercilessly applying pressure.

It took several tense minutes and several layers of gauze before the bleeding slowed enough that Dean felt comfortable trying to move Sam.

"Hey, Sammy?" Reaching up, Dean paused at Sam's throat, pressing two fingers down just under his chin. Sam's heart was pounding like it was trying to force itself out of his chest and his skin was cool and clammy to the touch. Moving his hand up to his face, he began to pat Sam's cheek. "Sammy, C'mon, I don't want to carry you, dude. I just got the bleeding stopped. C'mon, wakey, wakey…"

There was no movement and Dean hesitated, before rapping his knuckles harshly along Sam's sternum. Sam's eyebrows pinched together, stirring sluggishly and Dean breathed out a silent sigh of relief.

There was little or no awareness in Sam's eyes, but he did respond to simple commands. Even then, it took an agonizingly long time to get Sam safely up and on his feet and staggering towards the Impala.

Dean had one of Sam's arms swung tightly across his shoulder, while he gripped Sam's firmly around the waist, twisting a hand in his belt loops. Sam's steps were slow and uneven and the Impala seemed to be inching backward rather than forward but all the same, they reached her.

Leaning Sam against the car, Dean yanked the door open and then with as much care as possible, lowered his giant of a brother down and onto the seat. Sam groaned harshly his eyes flashing with pain.

"Sorry." Dean leaned him backward, letting his head tip against the seat before bending down to grasp his legs. He was trying to be as careful as possible, but he was working with not a lot of room and a way too large brother.

"De'n?"

Dean raised his head, making brief eye contact with Sam as he tried to offer reassurance. Sam looked at him in growing confusion and Dean cursed under his breath. He still had to go back and get Maddie, Sam was just going to have to hold his own.

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said loudly, enunciating each word clearly but Sam's eyes were still muddy and there was nothing for Dean to do but give him a comforting pat on the chest and then lock the car door behind him.

He didn't even notice how his legs protested as he once again broke into a run. Maddie wasn't that far away, he could go there and be back within ten minutes at the most. As long as Sam didn't start bleeding again…

The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Maddie just muffled a scream when he burst into the clearing, panting and shaking.

"You're alive!" she gasped but Dean was already shaking his head as he gathered her into his arms without preamble.

"We've got to go," he gasped out, turning on his heel.

"But Sam—"

"Needs a hospital."

"And the demon…?"

"It's dead, it won't come back for you," Dean assured as he tore through the underbrush, not caring that it was scratching up his arms. Maddie opened up his mouth to say something else but seemed to think better of it when Dean aimed a stony glare in her direction.

A brief flash of regret filtered through his soul as he caught sight of the fresh tear tracks on her face but he pushed it all aside. He could answer her questions later when Sam wouldn't be mistaken for roadkill or a vamp's chew toy.

His throat was swelling shut and Dean cleared it roughly, blinking rapidly so that he could see the path in front of him. The bridge came into view, and then the car and Dean bent awkwardly down, fumbling to be able to grasp the car's door and the weight in his arms.

Sam jumped violently when Dean opened the door, his head turning to face Dean. He didn't look any better than when Dean had left him, in fact, he looked worse. Sweat was coating his skin, and his eyes were wild.

Bending down carefully, Dean gently sat Maddie in the back corner, wincing alongside her as she hissed in pain. Backing out a little, he briefly brushed his hand against the back of Sam's head, before gathering up a few of the blankets they kept in the back for just such occasions. Tossing a few to Maddie, he leaned over the seat and lobbed a second one over Sam.

"You good?" he asked tightly but Maddie was already nodding and Dean wasted no time in getting to the front seat. Pulling Sam closer, he readjusted him until he was in a position in which Dean could monitor his condition.

He was reaching for the keys when Sam reached out, his fingers wrapping around Dean's wrist loosely and Dean looked down in concern. Sam's face was almost translucent he was so pale and the blood on his face and clothes stood out starkly but his eyes...they weren't pinched with pain. It was concern.

"Dean—"

"On second, dude…" The Impala roared to life and it had never sounded so amazing. Gripping the steering wheel, Dean spun her into a tight 180 and gunned the engine. Sam's hand dropped down, too weak to even hold on.

"De'n…you hu't…" Sam's voice was wrecked and Dean's lips tightened into a hard line as he straightened his baby out and sent her speeding down the mountain path and what was probably unsafe speeds.

"I'm okay, you're the one trying to get all your blood on the outside." Dean reached down, laying his free hand against Sam's hair and petting back the wild strands.

"Oh. Good."

Dean pursed his lips tightly, fighting to regain control of the car and the sudden anger that was flowing through him. He was going to bring back the demon just so he could send it straight back to hell a second time.

Sam sighed tiredly as Dean's foot pressed harder against the pedal and his head tilted forward, the muscles in his neck relaxing.

"Hey…hey, dude, you've gotta stay awake for me, okay? Stay with me."

Sam didn't answer and Dean grabbed his shoulder, shaking him roughly. "Sammy? Sammy, don't do this to me, don't you dare. I didn't drag your ass across that mountain for you to check out on me now."

Sam lolled limply with Dean's movement and Dean's fingers crawled down to his brother's throat, his fingers searching for signs of life. He found an increasingly weak and rapid pulse and his head drooped in relief. Sam wasn't dead, he wasn't dead yet and Dean wasn't about to let that happen. Shifting his grip back to Sam's shoulder, Dean focused on the road. Behind him, Maddie shifted in the back sit and Dean spared a glance back at her. Her eyes were clenched close and she was gripping the door handle as if her life depended on it as he took another turn far too fast.

The Impala responded to his touch, growling loudly as they fought together to save Sam's life.

Chapter Text

Dean never took his foot off the peddle as he raced down the mountain, and only slowed the Impala briefly when he risked a glance down at Sam. The white bandages had already become soaked with red and Dean's stomach dropped. Tentatively removing his stabilizing grip on Sam's shoulder, he began to apply pressure, praying to a God that he didn't believe in that this would work.

Maddie leaned forward, her face pale but determined. "I can do that, keep both hands on the wheel."

Dean hesitated, before nodding and Maddie leaned over the seat, applying firm pressure with both of her hands.

With what had to be a record time, they were skidding to a stop outside of the bay of the Emergency Room. Apparently, tire squealing and brake screeching entrances were not a norm for this small town as Dean hadn't even finished steadying the car to a complete stop before a curious nurse was poking her head out the sliding doors.

Dean locked eyes with her desperately through the windshield.

Something there must have connected as her mouth fell open into a small 'o' and then she turned, saying something over her should before ducking out into the early afternoon sun. Pulling open the passenger door, her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped fully open as she took in the amount of blood covering both Sam and the car.

"I've got two injured here," Dean snapped, already twisting in his seat so that he could apply more thorough pressure to Sam's side, allowing Maddie to sink back into her seat. The fabric was saturated and there was too much blood to be able to tell if Sam was still bleeding, but if he was…

At least Sam was still breathing, his chest moving weakly against Dean's leg, and for that he was grateful.

The nurse squeezed into the front seat, straddling Sam as she began to check his vitals. A few other nurses had flocked outside and she began to give crisp orders. Within minutes, Maddie had been loaded onto a gurney and whisked away, giving her only a brief moment to latch onto Dean and whisper a sincere 'thank you'.

Dean managed a brief nod, but his attention had been focused on supporting Sam's head and shoulders as he worked with the nurses to ease his brother out of the car and onto the second gurney. A second nurse had taken over applying pressure while yet another secured an oxygen mask over Sam's face before slipping a blood pressure cuff onto his arm.

"What are we looking at?" A doctor had also appeared somehow, and his face was pinched with concern. Dean barely glanced up as he concentrated on stepping out of the car.

"Stab wound with heavy bleeding and a high risk of infection. We were attacked yesterday but I didn't have any supplies to treat it with." Dean gently laid Sam's head down as the doctor cursed under his breath and then they were moving. Dean's hand curled around the edge of the metal, jogging alongside it in an unsteady gait.

Had it really only been yesterday that everything had gone so wrong? The doctor and the nurses were already exchanging suspicious looks and Dean quickly pulled the sympathy card, having learned it was better to feed people information than let them guess amongst themselves.

"You know how people have been disappearing?" He stopped when he saw their eyes widening as they put two and two together and their faces softened. Fighting the urge to snort, he let go of the gurney and wrapped his hand around Sam's lax one instead.

They had hardly come to a stop in a curtained-off room before Sam was being cut out of his clothes and an IV started. Dean shrank back into the corner as the doctors swarmed his brother and tried to look as small and unobtrusive as he could. EKGs and other monitors were being attached to Sam's chest and numbers began to flicker to life on the screen above the bed. Dean leaned forward, reading them carefully, and felt his heart drop as each vital presented itself.

"C'mon…" he hissed under his breath, twisting his fingers together.

"Sir, excuse me."

Dean tried to ignore the nurse but the man persisted, stepping into Dean's view and blocking his sight of Sam as he took ahold of his arm firmly.

"Sir, how about you let me have a look at you. You don't look so good yourself and trust me when I saw that they are going to take care of your…?"

"Brother. Sam's my brother."

"Alright, they are going to take good care of Sam, I promise, so let's just…let's just give them some space. Okay?"

Dean raised his head, glaring intensely at the older man in front of him but it didn't appear to faze him at all. "I'm not five, you don't need to make me promises that you can't keep," Dean protested but the nurse still had that emphatic look on his face. He took Dean's arm, leading him away and into a different section of the hospital. A curtain was drawn around them and Dean glanced up but the nurse only smiled kindly at him before gesturing to a small sink.

"You'll feel better once you've washed up."

Dean glanced down at his hands, at the blood encrusted in his fingernails and the lines of his palms and thoroughly agreed. Running the water as hot as it would go, Dean began to scrub ferociously, desperate to remove Sam's blood from his skin. Pink water swirled down the drain but it wasn't enough, the blood was still covering his shirt, his jeans, his face. It was everywhere.

The nurse pulled him gently away from the sink. "You're clean, you're good, buddy." He was handed a towel and he took it absentmindedly and moved to leave the curtained-off area but the nurse blocked his path, his face once again breaking into that smile.

Dean had never felt more like murdering someone, but the nurse only held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Josh. What's your name?"

Dean blinked in surprise and tried to decide if it would be quicker to knock the man—Josh—out or answer his questions.

"Dean," he finally said grudgingly, crossing his arms tightly around his chest. "Now, if you'll just excuse me—"

"Woah, hold up there, Dean. You're bleeding pretty good yourself. Let me patch you up. Besides, I think it's gonna be a while before they finish up with Sam. We might as well use our time wisely."

Dean made a face, glancing back through the curtain and in the direction that Sam was but Josh's hand was firm on his arm. Dean had the feeling that he didn't actually have a choice in the matter and he somehow doubted that getting kicked out of the ER would help him see Sam any sooner.

They were in deep enough as it was having entered the hospital covered in blood and clear signs of an extremely violent altercation. The cops would have to get involved and that was a whole other headache that Dean didn't want to deal with. Better not to get kicked out of the ER just yet.

He sat silently through the brief examination and the painful application of a few stitches just under his left eye and across his cheek They were just finishing up when someone knocked softly and entered.

Josh looked up, smiling slightly. "Emily, what can we do for you?"

Emily was gripping a pile of papers and she pulled a nearby stool over, sitting across from Dean with a serious expression on her face. Pulling the rollaway table over, she laid them out, offering Dean a pen that he dazedly took.

"You're Sam's ICE contact, correct? Good. They want to send Sam into surgery, but they need permission—" she began but Dean was already nodding. It wasn't surprising, not really, not even if it made him want to hurl.

"Just show me where to sign."

Emily nodded, pointed out to the dottle lines at the bottom of the page and Dean signed with an unreadable scribble, his hand trembling slightly. Emily offered him a gentle smile as she collected the papers.

By the time a pair of scrubs had been rounded up for Dean, replacing his blood and sweat-soaked clothing, the cops had been altered. Dean forced himself to sit through the long (and somewhat fake) story of how he and Sam had simply been hiking when they had come across Maddie and her attacker.

Maddie, he could only hope, would be able to figure out that she shouldn't be telling the truth. Sam would know instinctively what to do had he been in a condition to do so and the thought made Dean cringe and glance back over his shoulder at the ER. There was still no word on Sam and it made the coffee that Josh had forced on him taste stale. After the promise that the officers would update them with more once they knew more, Dean found himself in a semi-private waiting room up near surgery. It was getting close to 10 o'clock, almost five hours after they had come barreling in but it was another hour before the doctor called his name and Dean could cease his endless pacing.

"How's Sam?" he asked without preamble, folding his arms tightly across his chest and straightening to his full height as if that would ward off anything bad that the doctor was going to say. The doctor, this time a woman whose name tag read Keller, ducked her head slightly, glancing through the file she was holding before gesturing to a small grouping of chairs over in the corner.

Dean squeezed his fist shut, trying hard not to lash out and hurry Dr. Keller along, and followed behind with gritted teeth. Dr. Keller sat down and Dean followed suit.

"Sam is a fighter," she began with a tight smile as she pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose. Dean held his breath, bracing himself for the 'but' that was sure to follow. "But his injury was severe and he lost a lot of blood."

"But he's still alive, right?" Dean blurted out, his hands clenching and unclenching in his jeans.

"Yes, yes, he is," Dr. Keller was quick to confirm and gave Dean another of those small smiles before digging through the files that she held. All the air went out of Dean's lungs and he slumped back, running a hand over his face, stopping with his palm covering his mouth as the doctor presented a chart with a laminated figure on it.

"There are two—well, three—concerns that we are currently keeping an eye on. The first one we have already addressed for the moment. The wound was not pretty, with clear signs of additional damage but from what we can piece together, the knife entered Sam's left side right here," She paused, leaning over and indicating with a pen a spot just below the figure's ribs, "and as you can see, that right there is the spleen. There was minimal damage done to it, but that was fixed up during surgery, along with one other minor internal bleed. We will keep a close eye on that, just in case."

Dean closed his eyes, taking it all in, before handing the chart back silently. He was so ready to be passed this and on the road in the Impala. "And the other two?"

"The amount of blood that he lost was massive and add into that the hike off the mountain—"

And fighting a demon, Dean added silently to himself.

"—put an enormous toll on his system. He was slipping dangerously into shock when he was brought in, but we have been combating that and transfusing him with blood. As we speak, he is receiving another bag of O-negative and that should bring his blood pressure closer to where we want it. However, our biggest concern is infection. I know that you did the best with what you had, but his wound is already starting to show signs of it.

"And after surgery and blood loss…He's weak. If the infection does set in too deeply then I will be honest and tell you that his chances of survival will decrease greatly."

Dean took it all in and stood, running his hands through his hair. Sam had seen worse…he would pull through. Dean wouldn't accept anything less than that. "Can I see him?"

Dr. Keller smiled and Dean looked away. "I would think that we have been keeping you waiting long enough." Standing, she gestured for Dean to follow her to the elevator.

As they were traveling up to the fourth floor and the ICU a sudden thought struck Dean.

"How's Maddie? The girl that came in with us?"

Dr. Keller took a minute, her lips pursing as she thought. "I didn't care for her, but I think I overheard Dr. Comwell, talking about taking her up for X-rays. I'll see what I can find out but they didn't look too concerned, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"Thank you."

They exited the elevator and Dr. Keller began to walk down a long hallway, leading him into the ICU.

Dean's heart threatened to fail completely as they stepped into the small, curtained area that was Sam's. His brother lay in the bed, hooked up to far too many wires to be comfortable and not moving a muscle. The soft beeping of the heart monitor filled the heavy silence, followed by the blood pressure cuff pumping itself up and the soft hiss of air as the tension was slowly let out.

Dr. Keller patted his shoulder reassuringly before leaving the room and Dean sank down to sit in the chair next to Sam. Blowing out a sigh, Dean washed a hand down his face and leaned forward a little.

"We really got ourselves into a mess this time, didn't we?" he asked, forcing a smile onto his face. Reaching out, he grasped Sam's forearm and squeezed tightly. "But isn't it sad to think that this isn't the worst thing we've been through?"

Sam simply kept breathing, his chest rising and falling in a mostly steady rhythm. The sounds of the heart monitor continued to bleep reassuringly in the background, slightly faster and weaker than Dean would have liked, but they could work around that. The blood pressure was too low, just as Dr. Keller had pointed out, but there was a bag of bright red blood being slowly dripped through the IV that was attached to Sam's right hand.

Dean grinned, shaking Sam's arm gently. "Lemma just say, for the record, this is why you should leave hero duty up to me. You totally missed the mark of walking off with nothing more than bruises and sexy-looking stitches. None of this crap that you have been pulling."

Moving his hand down, Dean found Sam's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before settling in for the long wait.

#

Dean was dozing when Sam's fingers twitched against his, jolting him instantly awake.

"Sammy? Dude, you in there?" Leaning eagerly forward, Dean couldn't help but smile as Sam's fingers leisurely uncurled.

Sam grunted, his eyes shifting under their lids as he attempted to pry them open.

"Take your time…" Dean stood, moving to sit next to Sam on the bed and pulling the blanket up higher against his shoulders before gripping his forearm. Rubbing small circles there with his thumb, Dean waited patiently. His skin was warmer than he had hoped, but that was to be expected.

Sam made another small noise, his head tipping towards Dean as he gave up on opening his eyes. Reaching up, his fingers wrapped briefly found Dean's arm before growing lax. Dean sat back in disappointment, squeezing Sam's arm again in silent reassurance.

"I'm here, Sam, and everything is gonna work out just fine. You just concentrate on kicking this thing in the ass, alright? I'll be here when you wake up for real." Dean smiled fondly, brushing Sam's overgrown bangs aside and out of his face.

Sam looked so young, so vulnerable, lying there.

But he was breathing.

He was alive.

And that was good enough for Dean.

Patting his hair down, Dean leaned back and continued his silent vigil, trying very hard not to think about just who was going to be there for Sam after he was gone. Bobby would do what he could, he knew and he loved the man for it, but Sam…Sam could be difficult when he wanted to be.

At least those worries kept the ones of the upcoming ones about hellfire away.

#

Sam's fever continued to rise as the day once again turned into night, but Dr. Keller was quick to reassure Dean that this was normal and that he shouldn't be too concerned. Still, it made Dean uneasy to watch as Sam drifted in and out of consciousness, his ramblings increasingly nonsequential. Sometimes he would answer the slurred questions but more often than he just sat there, holding Sam's hand when the pain got too bad or Sam needed something to ground him.

Dean was just finished soothing him back into a restless sleep when there was a soft knock at the door. Looking up, he felt a tired grin stretching his face when he saw Maddie tentatively peeping around the corner.

"Maddie? What are you doin' here? Did they release you already?" Dean sat up straighter, fixing his shirt and running a hand through his hair. He was sure that he looked like roadkill but Maddie had seen him looking worse. He stood, gesturing for her to come in. Maddie hobbled forward, supporting herself on a pair of crutches, and then lowered herself to sit down. Bracing the crutches against the wall, she looked over at Sam, her smile faltering. Her face was still pale, and her eyes had dark shadows underneath them.

"You look better. How's the ankle?" Dean asked, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms.

Maddie gave a weak smile. "They have me on a lot of drugs. I'm not complaining. How's Sam?"

"Holding his own currently. The infection wasn't as bad as the doc feared, but I mean...it's an infection. Kinda hard to get around that, you know?"Dean huffed a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stared at Sam, before turning to Maddie and gesturing at the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing. "You got released?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm actually having a friend drive me up to stay with my aunt in Florida. So I was just coming to say goodbye. And thank you."

Dean nodded, waving away her gratitude. "I'm sorry that you got dragged into all this, I really am."

Maddie shook her head. "It's not like you ordered the demon in, you were just trying to help people." Maddie sighed heavily, her pretty face pinching downward. Her eyes looked to be filling with tears and Dean quickly looked away, giving her time to compose herself.

Several quiet sniffles and gasps later, she raised her head. "I mean, who else was gonna carry me off a mountainside? Especially after I stabbed your brother."

This time it was Dean shaking his head. "It was nothing, and trust me, Sam won't hold it against you." He laughed softly, glancing back over at his still-sleeping brother and checking the vital signs being. His temperature was still too high, but his blood pressure was steadier. "As long as you didn't put Nair his shampoo, he'll forgive just about anything. But, man, touch his hair and Sammy will hold a grudge like a no one's business…the big girl."

Maddie smiled, her eyes still red from fighting off tears. "Noted. I'm guessing you're not speaking from experience?"

"No. Of course not," Dean smiled, and Maddie grinned before her smile faltered once more.

"Tell Sam thank you, won't you?"

"Of course." Dean stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. "Just remember that it all gets better. Enjoy your time in Florida. Laugh, have fun. Enjoy life."

Maddie forced a smile, her eyes once again threatening to spill over with tears. "Emma doesn't get to."

Dean hugged her closer, cutting off her words quickly. "Don't play the what-if game, Maddie, I'm begging you. I don't know why Emma died and you didn't, but just…" He looked over her head, focusing on Sam, wishing that he was awake to realize, to understand... "Just be happy, even if it takes a little bit to get there. You'll find that path and then this will all be a bad nightmare. You'll find love again, you're strong like that."

Maddie nodded against his chest and Dean let her go, watching as she wiped her hand across her eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope that we don't see each other again."

Dean chuckled, letting go and moving to get her crutches. He handed them to her and grabbed a piece of paper, scrawling down his number and holding it "If it means anything, I hope that we don't see each other again either, but just in case…I typically receive a woman's number, not the other way around, but if literally carrying you across the mountain couldn't convince you to give me yours, well, then there is something wrong with you."

Maddie smiled thinly as she tucked the paper into her pocket. She gave him one final smile before pulling herself up and limping out the door.

Dean watched her go until she disappeared around the corner and then turned back to Sam.

"She'll be fine," he said softly, sitting back down. That…that made everything all worth it. Even if he was never going to have a wife, or kids, or picket fence, she would. Sam would. And that would have to be enough.

Shifting back the blankets of Sam's bed, Dean gingerly pulled back the bandages to check the wound for himself, and made a face. The skin there was no longer quite so red and puffy so maybe the antibiotics were finally kicking in. Nodding in satisfaction, he tucked the light sheet back over Sam, pausing long enough to press the back of his hand against Sam's forehead.

"You ready to get out of here?"

Sam shifted, a breathy moan escaping him but he didn't wake up.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Listen," Dean shifted awkwardly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "You've kinda got to, cause, ah, otherwise who is gonna get me outta my deal?" He threw in a playful tap on Sam's shoulder but his words came out far heavier than he had intended, the underlying fear of both hell and the loss of Sam making his words thick. Sam didn't respond at all this time and Dean clapped his arm gently. "Good talk. I'm gonna get a coffee."

Staggering to his feet, Dean took a deep breath and headed out into the hallway.

It was later that night that Sam's fever broke, surprising Dr. Keller so much that she called it nothing short of pure, stubborn will.

Dean called it Sam's stubborn geek side that refused to be ignored until he found whatever answer he was looking for. That hadn't changed over the years, even if the questions themselves had changed from why birds can fly while fish swim to why-did-you-sell-your-soul-and-how-the-hell-am-I-going-to-get-you-out-of-it?

Sam just needed a reminder.

Dean was working on yet another cup of coffee the next day when Sam finally woke for real, if only for a few moments.

"Dean…?" The soft, hoarse, whisper had drawn Dean up from the depths into which he had been staring and he jerked, his eyes going wide.

"Hey, buddy, how you feeling?" he asked, setting the flimsy storiform cup aside and plastering the patented Dean Winchester grin across his face.

Sam's eyelids slowly lifted, revealing dull-looking hazel. The frown deepened on his face as he took in his surroundings and Dean waited, gripping his forearm steadily until Sam followed up with another hazy request of his name.

"Yup, Sammy, I'm right here."

"Oh…good. Is…are you…did Maddie…?" Sam trailed off again, blinking owlishly and in a manner that suggested any moment from now he was going slip back under.

"She's okay, you did good," Dean praised but Sam's frown only deepened.

"You okay?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, cause I'm the one in the hospital bed who has been unconscious for like the past two days." Sam stared at him with blank confusion and Dean relented. "I'm good too."

"Oh…"

Sam seemed to think on that for a moment before his eyes slipped shut and he rolled his head in Dean's direction. "Di' you ge' my book?"

It was Dean's turn to frown as his eyebrows raise. "You're book? Well, if you would have joined the party a little sooner and given me a fair warning, yeah I would have gotten you your book. Hell, I don't even know what book you are talking about."

"The one…the one in the trunk that you aren't supposed to know about," Sam slurred, lifting an eyelid in annoyance before his face paled and he attempted to sit up as a sudden clarity flashed across his face but Dean laid a hand against his chest, pushing him back down with ease.

"Oh, yes, how could I forget such a unique title? Now shut up and don't move."

Sam gave in, leaning back against the bed with a low sigh. "Well, you should bring it in, next time, just don't look," he murmured and Dean shook his head.

"You're higher than a kite, dude, get some rest. If I am out in the vicinity of the car, I'll look in all your little hidey-hole that I'm not supposed to know about," Dean promised, the smile a little less faked as Sam's brows scrunched up in confusion before they evened out.

"Thanks, man," Sam muttered, and then he was out again, leaving Dean to sit back in flabbergasted silence. He desperately needed to find his brother a new hobby, one that didn't involve books.

Sam's body continued to demand rest and sleep but as soon as Dr. Keller assured Dean that Sam was out of danger and should be able to make a full recovery, then Dean whisked him away into the Impala, putting the small town in their rearview mirror once and for all.

Sam slept for the entirety of the trip across two state lines, so deeply under the influence of the hospital drugs that Dean had to practically carry him into their crap hotel of the night. The only half-aware request that Sam kept insisting on was for his journal and books to be brought in and Dean hesitantly complied after he had settled Sam down.

Placing them gently on the nightstand, he sat down next to Sam, simply drinking in the sight of him breathing. Sam slept on, oblivious and Dean patted his chest lightly before moving away and pulling out the laptop to peruse for another case.

Another disaster averted, time to move on.

Sam stirred, his eyes flickering open with a low groan. Dean looked over.

"Dean?"

Dean cleared his throat, flicking on the lap. "Right here. You need anything?"

Sam still had dark shadows under his eyes, the paleness of his skin accenting them in all the wrong ways, and he winced as he tried to move. He held his breath, releasing it out slowly as the pain ebbed and flowed. "I'm fine. You okay?"

"Dude. You keep asking that like I was the one that almost bled out."

Sam shrugged helplessly as he reached out, snagging the hem of Dean's shirt. "Imma gonna do more research, gotta…gotta save you for once," he pronounced, his voice still thick from drugs and exhaustion. Dean shook his head in fond exasperation.

"You do that." Dean gently unhooked the fingers, squeezing them briefly before laying them flat on Sam's chest. Sam let out a long sigh, his eyes closing once more.

"Jerk."

It was no more than a sleepy whisper but Dean smiled anyway.

"Bitch," he replied quickly and Sam's lips twitched upwards into a grin before he drifted off once more into a deeper sleep.

Dean's smile slowly faded as his eyes caught on the books on the nightstand sitting next to the orange bottles of pills and he quickly looked away. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg before washing a hand down his face.

He wasn't leaving Sam behind by choice, damnit. It had been him or Sam.

Sam would be in for a battle, but in the end, he would be okay. He would move on.

And, in the end, that was all that really mattered to Dean.

#

Sam dozed in and out of consciousness, the pain just at bay, and found himself staring blearily at the puke-colored walls…or maybe that was just the drugs and illness messing with his eyesight. Maybe they weren't that bad and he was just seeing things through the heavy stupor of drugs and sleep.

Somewhere in the room, he could hear the shower running and let his eyes slip close.

Dean was nearby.

A rush of relief, of safety, swept over Sam and he relaxed into the lumpy mattress. It wasn't much better than the hospital bed but at least here he didn't have wires attached all over him and nurses poking him as soon as he woke up.

The shower turned off and he could hear Dean humming. Frowning in concentration, Sam tried to pick out what song it was.

He was so tired of sleeping, of being unable to think clearly. Dean had assured him, maybe more than once by the amused expression he kept wearing, that he hadn't even been in the hospital for more than four days, but that didn't seem right. It had seemed so much longer than that.

Every day was precious, even if Dean kept insisting that it wasn't.

Sam really wanted to be out of this bed, to be either just spending time with his brother or researching how to save him because living life without him…Sam shuddered unconsciously, curling up under the blanket as if to protect himself.

He couldn't live without Dean.

He would rather die.

And if Dean…if the contract came due and Sam hadn't figured out anything…

It would have meant that he hadn't done his part. Research was the one thing he was better at than Dean and he damn well wasn't about to give up. He always found the answer. There had to be one, he just wasn't looking in the right places yet, in the right books. If he just kept searching…

"You cold, Sammy?" Dean must have exited the shower at some point because there was an additional blanket being spread over him. Sam tried to voice his thanks, but it came out all slurred and mumbled, leaving Sam silently cursing the drugs once more.

The next time that Dean was in the shower, he was dumping the pills down the drain.

Dean chuckled, slapping Sam's foot gently before moving away and settling out across the other bed and starting to flick through the channels.

Sam wouldn't be okay, not when Dean left him, no matter what Dean wanted to tell himself.

And Dean wouldn't be okay, either, not in hell, and that was more motivating than anything else.

This demon had grudged up a few too many fears about losing Dean, about being the reason that he died, and Sam swore to himself that he would save his brother or he would die trying.

But for the moment, Sam needed sleep and he allowed himself to drift off to Dean's sarcastic commentary about whatever horror film he had stumbled upon.