"Dean!" Sam's footfalls echoed in the darkness, his heavy breathing periodically drowned out by the sounds of fighting deeper in the abandoned warehouse.

He needed to get to Dean.

He needed to get to him before he was killed.

Damn it!

They had been on a hunt when Dean was taken. Bobby had heard evidence of a dragon settling down in a small town called Jerome, in Arizona. It only had about five hundred residents; perfect for a lone dragon looking to pick off people passing through. They had split up to track the creature, Dean using his charm to figure out who had recently moved to town, and Sam using his extra sense to try to pinpoint a location. Unfortunately, the dragon found them first, but it wasn't alone: a whole nest had taken residence in the hills nearby. Dean had been grabbed, leaving Sam to come and rescue him.

Sam had quickly dealt with the dragon on guard, sneaking up on it and burying his knife in its throat, and was now hurrying through the long building. He would need to come back to dispose of the body after.

A deafening roar shook the building and he stuttered to a stop, cringing from the volume. Something boomed in the warehouse, followed by the sound of many flapping wings.

"Shit," Sam huffed, drawing his gun, "shit!"

He took off again, not bothering to be silent when his brother may very well be lying dead. What was it with dragons and warehouses anyway? Every time one of the brothers would be captured or held hostage, it was in a warehouse or equally creepy abandoned building. Even the powerful beasts that had taken Dean, must be subject to instinct.

The silence was uncomfortable, heavy with the weight of what it might hold. Sam hurried along, shoulder brushing the wall with every step, gun at the ready. As he went deeper, the air seemed to change. The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the current suddenly running through the building. Sam went faster.

There!

A light glowed softly up ahead, around a corner. Sam slowed, checking to make sure his gun was loaded (even though the bullets would only wound a dragon at best.)

Once he was sure his gun was ready, Sam steadied the broadsword on his back and made ready the smaller hunting sword on his thigh. A sudden rumbling brought him out of his preparations. The sound was deep and gravelly; a growl, but it almost sounded like words. Cautiously, Sam moved closer to the corner and peered around it.

Before him, a large room, most likely a storage area, was in ruins. Broken support struts were strewn across the floor, scorch marks covered the walls, chains swung slowly from the ceiling, and splashes of blood were everywhere. In the centre of the room, crouched a dragon. It was large and black, branched horns rising menacingly above a thin face. It was the source of the growling, humming now, actually.

Sam was frozen in shock at the sight, the great creature squatting in an abandoned warehouse. Humming!

It was the sight of Dean, lying prone beneath the beast's claws, that drove Sam into action.

"Hey!" He sprang out from behind the corner, firing his gun. It was, as it usually was, very accurate. The bullet hit the dragon just above the shoulder, in the softer scales of its neck. The dragon roared in pain and surprise, stumbling to the side. Electricity thrummed through the air as the beast swung its head about, searching for its attacker. Sam shivered as the dragon's cold gaze landed on him, sticking him to the spot.

'Shit.' Sam thought. That was a mistake, letting the dragon lay eyes on him. It didn't always work, but if a dragon managed to lock eyes with you, they could immobilize you.

Sam stood, frozen by the power of the dragon, and waited for it to kill him, to unleash the power he felt in the air around him and turn him into dust.

Nothing happened.

The creature blinked at Sam, tilting its head in an almost comical gesture before turning its attention back to Dean; the elder Winchester was still just lying there. It didn't look like he was breathing to Sam.

The dragon brushed the edge of its snout against Dean's chest a couple of times before raising its head. The air began to fill with static again, the electric currents centering around the dragon. The dragon and Dean.

Sam began to move forward, alarmed, but was stopped by the dragon's tail. A fresh bite mark marred the otherwise flawless shape of the dragons spade-tipped tail. Brilliant red blood oozed from the mark and dripped onto the floor.

Before Sam could do anything, blue lightning shot from the dragons mouth and hit Dean.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, trying to get past the waving tail. The dragon gazed down at Dean, waiting.

His brother's shaking inhale caused Sam to jump, his fingers loosening from the hunting sword's hilt. The dragon huffed, a smug look crossing its face. It turned its head to Sam for a moment, deep blue eyes meeting his. With a rustle, the dragon unfolded its wings, bent its legs, and shot upwards. Moldy wood and plaster fell on Sam as the beast's departure knocked loose debris from the gaping hole in the ceiling. Sam waved dumbly after it.

His brother's soft moaning made him turn.

"What the hell, Sammy," Dean mumbled, rolling onto his side, "I feel like I've been hit by a bus!" "Jesus, Dean!" Sam huffed, walking over to his brother and pulling him into a rough hug. "Woah," Dean cried, pushing him off and struggling to his feet, "enough with the chick-flick moment!"

Sam shot him a dark look. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam smiled and punched his brother's shoulder, who flinched under the contact. "Seriously, what the hell?" Dean asked, rubbing at his shoulder and chest. "Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked. "I'll be fine," Dean grumbled, shoving off Sam's concern, "just want to know why my chest looks like it's been on fire." "What?" Sure enough, exactly over Dean's heart, the flesh looked melted, like a wound that had been cauterized.

"Fuck," Dean said, "what happened?"

"Hell if I know," Sam replied, "hell if I know."

In his mind he saw the dragon, the great black creature who had shot lightening at his brother and seemingly brought him back to life."I'd like to know too," Sam said out loud, following Dean's unsteady walk out. "Some rescue you are," Dean told him as his feet left old cement to crunch on the gravel road.

They stopped at the impala briefly, just long enough to gather what they needed, then walked back to the body of the dragon that Sam had killed. When they were done, Sam turned to Dean. "I'll tell you everything that I saw on the road, but right now we need to get to Bobby's. I have a few questions for him."