Warnings: some minor language, violence, death of a minor character.
2x10 – Hunted
'Spilt Blood'
Every nerve in Dean's body sparks with a nauseating combination of fury and sheer panic. Dean's been attuned to Sam ever since he first set eyes on the tyke, so he hears his brother before Gordon does. The soft snicks of the lock and door latch being undone makes his heart jackhammer hard in his chest. He is almost positive that his body's most prized organ is going to crack a rib and then stutter into failure.
"You hear him?" Gordon whispers as soon as he picks up on the sound too, "Here he comes."
Vomit wants to make its way up Dean's throat as he listens to Gordon talk about his brother like he's some kind of game to hunt, but he quickly pushes it back down. Now is not the time to suffocate on his own bile, not when Sam's seconds away from certain death.
The first bomb goes off and Dean feels the shock of it all the way to his bones. Debris pounds against his back and rains on his head, but the sharp pain of wood and glass have nothing on the pain in his now shattered heart.
"SAM!"
The sound is muffled by the rancid fabric in his mouth but anyone would know exactly what Dean screamed in desperation.
"Hold on, not yet. Just wait and see."
Dean does because he knows that Sam wouldn't have fallen for a tripwire, their dad trained them better than that. But two trip wires? He's just praying to every God and Goddess that he knows of that Sam's big brain kicks in and saves his life, since right now, Dean can't.
The second bomb goes off, bigger than the first, and Dean's whole chest freezes up in devastation. His lungs shutter as he takes tries to take in air and it comes out as a choked sob.
"Sorry, Dean."
Gordon's boots crunch on the aftermath of the explosion but Dean's not really paying attention to what Gordon's doing anymore. He's just trying to get a grip on his frantic emotions, on his soul that feels like it's being sucked out of his body. He grabs onto the tail end of his sanity and yanks it back, feeling his determination and desperation come with it. Dean yanks at the ties that have him bound to the chair, his muscles straining under the pressure that he's putting them under. The knots don't budge but Dean's not about to stop now. If he has to break and dislocate his own bones to get out he will, because Sam is in the room behind him either badly injured or…
"Put the gun down, now!"
Dean's head snaps to the side as far as it will go and he grunts out Sam's name through the gag.
Alive. Sam's alive.
A new determination fills Dean, just as powerful but re-directed as he continues to pull against his restraints. He can hear the sounds of punches being thrown and to Dean, the reverberation of skin bruising skin sounds like the hands of a clock ticking. Sam might have sidestepped the bombs but now he's up against Gordon, who still wants him dead. And the longer Dean's stuck in the damn chair, the longer Gordon has to fulfill his insane quest.
A large crash makes him pause his struggling. Silence falls and Dean has to work to calm his senses from going into overdrive. He knows he can't afford to panic again. Muffled voices float from behind him so he's pretty sure that both of them are still alive, but he's also pretty sure that someone took a trip through a wall or something equally as painful.
It's Gordon's voice that finally makes him stop completely, partly out of expectation and partly out of relief.
"Do it!" Gordon's shouts sharply.
A few heartbeats later, he hears the undeniable sound of a gun hitting someone's skull. Thankfully, he's almost positive that it was Gordon who was on the receiving end, because Gordon wouldn't have knocked Sam out, he would've killed him. More sounds follow, footsteps this time, and Dean tenses as he waits agonizingly for Sam to come into view.
He cranks his head around to get a glimpse of his Sasquatch-sized brother and resists the urge to pass out from relief when Sam's hand lands on his shoulder. Dean forces himself to hold still while Sam unties the first knot. He can't help but notice how Sam's struggling to keep his balance while on the floor.
As soon as one hand is loose, he quickly unties his other appendage and yanks the gag out of his mouth. It only takes seconds to get free and he can't wait to get his hands on Sam, to make sure he's really there, to make sure the damn kid is okay. Dean grabs a hold of Sam's jacket with both hands and hauls him up, and then moves his hands to the side of Sam's neck as he does inventory.
Sam's unsteady on his feet, his face is quickly bruising, and he has multiple cuts that are oozing a steady amount of blood. It's all superficial compared to what the alternative was but Sam's injuries aren't what really has his blood boiling. It's the slight tremor that's running over Sam's body, giving away his concealed fear. It's the look in Sam's eyes that's both apologetic and self-loathing. That look was put there by Gordon, who just cemented Sam's idea that he's not normal, that he's a freak. Sam was scared enough about all this psychic crap as it was and now this. Well, screw that.
Dean had already decided while Gordon was monologuing that the other hunter wasn't making it out of this alive. If Sam lived or died, especially if he died, Dean was putting an end to this with his gun.
It's in the Winchester Code to not kill humans. They kill evil, supernatural baddies and yeah, sometimes humans fall into the 'evil' category, but they find other ways to deal. Not this time. Dean's making an exception for Gordon Walker because it also says in the Winchester Code that Dean looks out for his little brother. That rule trumps them all.
Dean's jaw clenches and the muscle in his cheek jumps, "Sammy, go wait in the car."
Sam takes a few seconds longer to respond than Dean would like, "What? Why?"
"Just do it, Sam," Dean orders, his tone and glare leaving no room for argument.
Sam looks between Dean and the destroyed room behind them, and Dean can literally see the pieces fall into place in Sam's eyes.
"Dean, no."
"I let him live once, I'm not making the same mistake again. He tried to blow. you. up. Sam," Dean argues fiercely and he wonders briefly if Sam caught how his voice hitched.
"Yeah, I know, I was there. That doesn't mean that we should sink to his level!" Sam replies, his arm flailing towards the general area where Gordon's lying unconscious.
"There's no 'we' in this. Go wait in the car," Dean replies, "Now, Sam, don't make me haul you out myself."
"I'm not letting you do this," Sam grits, "Think about it, Dean! You kill Gordon and every hunter between here and California will be on our ass!"
"Not if they don't find him," Dean immediately replies, stone-faced.
Sam deadpans and glares, "We don't kill people. I know you, Dean, and I know you don't really want to do this."
Dean lets out a harsh laugh, "Oh, really, I don't?"
Sam stays silent as Dean continues, "I just sat here for over an hour listening to how you're supposed to be evil. I listened to him try to justify your murder. And then? I got to sit here and do nothing while he tried to blow you to smithereens. So yeah, right now? There's nothing I want more than to personally gank his ass."
Sam breathes through his nose, his eyes softening, "Dean, I know, ok? I know. But I'm ok, alright? Let's just…let's just leave it, please?"
Dean almost caves. Those damn puppy dog eyes and that word always, always seems to crack and dent his armor. Except for this time. He can still feel the shutter of the house as the bombs diffused, can still feel the crippling panic running through his veins. All he can think about is that if he lets Gordon live he gives him another chance to kill his brother, and by the air he breathes, Dean is not going to let that happen.
Dean swallows, "Sorry, Sammy."
Sam opens his mouth to argue or yell, probably both, but Dean's faster, always has been. Dean hates doing this to his brother. He hates upsetting him and hurting him but he also knows it has to be done to keep the kid safe, like his dad asked him to do.
Dean lunges, grabs Sam's jacket again, and uses the momentum to propel his giant kid brother forward. He twists them around, ignoring Sam's rather amusing squawk, and physically hauls him out the front door. He pushes Sam far enough on the front porch to be able to slam the door shut without Sam trying to intercede. The door slams and locks just as Sam's fist pounds on the door.
"Dean! Don't do this!" Sam's harsh, angry voice is muffled by the door.
Dean closes his eyes for a split second in guilt but then they snap back open, because Dean knows it's only a matter of seconds before Sam comes charging through the gaping hole in the back of the house. He moves fast, snatching Sam's abandoned gun off the floor and pulling the hammer back on it. His feet crunch and slip on the splintered wood on the floor but Dean's stride is confident and determined. Soon, he's looming over Gordon. Gordon is starting to shake the stars from his head when he catches sight of Dean's boots. He pauses and looks up, his eyes connecting with the wrong end of a gun.
Gordon's bloody lips pull into a smile, "I told you. You're a killer, like me. And Sam? He's going to be one too. You wait and see, Dean, one day, you're going to wish you had let me finish the job."
Dean sneers as a small feeling of fear sinks its clutches in him. He pushes it away, replacing it with the famous Winchester stubbornness he's known for.
A humorless smirk washes away the sneer as his finger tightens on the trigger, "Sorry, Gordy, it's never going to happen."
He pulls the trigger and prays that he's right, and that Sam will forgive him for this.
When Dean walks back out to the Impala, Sam's leaning against it, all fidgety and tense.
"You shouldn't have done that," Sam says softly but fiercely, and Dean can see the tears gathering in his eyes.
"He would've come back for you. I couldn't let that happen."
Sam shakes his head, "When's it gonna stop, Dean? When are you going to stop doing stupid, selfish shit to try to protect me?"
Dean pauses and looks at his brother. He looks at the bloody cuts and the bruises, the emotions reflecting out of his eyes like a window, and knows what he's always known.
"Never."
Sam shakes his head again. The motion causes the tears that had been gathering in his eyes to slowly roll down his face.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Dean says and opens the driver's side to the Impala.
Sam hesitates for a second, throwing another glance at the house before he follows into the passenger seat.
"What about…what are you going to do about Gordon?" Sam asks as Dean jams the keys into the ignition.
"Come back later, salt and burn the whole place," Dean replies flatly.
Silence follows before Sam interrupts it softly, "It wasn't worth it."
The Impala roars to life and Dean steps on the gas, spraying dirt and rocks behind them.
A few minutes pass in unbearable, uncomfortable silence before Dean finally replies, "It's always worth it."
Sam wants to argue, Dean can see it, so he cranks up Metallica and lets the road do the talking instead.