Intoxicated
"Watch out!" Dean tackled Sam to the ground just in time to see the toxic cloud shooting over their heads.
"Wow," Sam watched the pungent mass evaporated as it hit the wall. He lowered his shocked gaze to meet Dean's. "Thanks."
"Pay attention dude. You don't wanna get hit with that stuff," Dean said testily.
It had been a long night and the sun was almost up. They'd finally caught up with the Grawshna, in an empty parking lot, but now killing it was proving to be more of a problem.
"That thing's hide is like armour!" Sam exclaimed reloading his shotgun.
"Yeah well, that's why I brought this!" Dean hauled over their duffle bag a pulled out a machete. His eyes gleamed as he admired the razor sharp blade, he couldn't wait to hack that thing to pieces.
"It's gotta do more good than this thing." Sam cocked his gun. Even though the rounds seemed to have just been bouncing off so far, it felt good having some type of weapon in his hand.
After a moment to ready themselves they nodded at each other. "Move," Dean said grimly. They separated and circled round either side of the creature. The Grawshna watched them warily with its huge bug-like eyes. Drool poured through its razor sharp teeth and from the back of its throat discharged wisps of its toxic breath.
They were closing in, Sam steadied his shotgun while Dean raised his machete, and they advanced on it. It was pinned between them with no where to go. Finally, they had it trapped.
"NOW!" Dean shouted. Immediately Sam squeezed the trigger, and as the creature reeled from the shot, Dean hacked at it, bringing the machete down on the scarce soft tissue in the crease of its neck. The Grawshna roared and turned to tower over Dean. Dean grinned at it. "You're dead, you fugly son of a bitch." He swiped with the blade again, slicing its neck open. Purple gooey blood spurted from the wound showering Dean. But he didn't stop, and as the creature fell he hacked at it until its head was a bloody mess lying next to its body.
"Do ya think it's dead?" Sam quipped sarcastically. Dean raised his eyes to stare at Sam. Slowly he wiped some purple gunk from his face and flicked it on the ground.
"Sammy, go get the gas," he ordered. Sam paused for a second, but only a second, before doing as asked. Dean stepped towards the severed bug-eyed head and crouched down to stare in its face. "Huh." He nudged the head with the toe of his boot. "You weren't all that," he said dismissively. Slowly from the creatures neck wound escaped a small cloud. "But dude, your breath sure does reek." Dean waved his hand in front of his face, wafting away the foul odour and gagging slightly at its potency.
"Hey." Sam had returned with the gas and handed it to Dean. Within a minute they stood before an inferno.
"Good riddance," Dean sneered at it before they turned their backs and walked away.
-
Back at Bobby's, Dean stood and stared at the Impala. The trunk stared back at him through holes that glared accusingly. The crowbar still lay on the ground surrounded by shattered glass. Ok, so yes it had felt good at the time to take his frustration out on his beloved car, but now it was just a reminder of how bad things really were and of how Sam was right. Dean wasn't dealing with John's death. The pit in his stomach was slowly eating away at him making him feel sick. There was a rage he couldn't quite control itching to burst its way through the surface and consume him.
"Hey." Dean flinched slightly as Sam stepped up beside him. "You'd better get cleaned up." Dean grunted in reply. "Man, you look like crap. When's the last time you slept?"
"Not now Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes and picked up the crowbar. "I'm really not in the mood."
"I know," Sam said simply. "Well look. Bobby's got us some breakfast if you're interested. If you're not gonna sleep, the least you can do is eat."
Dean stared at the crowbar in his fists. "Dean?"
"Yeah," Dean started, as if woken from a dream. "Yeah, I will. I promise, Sammy."
"And please take a shower, you smell like death." Sam gave him a lopsided smile before picking his way back through the junk yard. Dean looked down at himself; he was still covered in the creature's blood. Urgh, it was going to take forever to get it out of his leather jacket.
Dean stared back at the Impala, the ache in his stomach returned. This time it grew. It overwhelmed him.
"Argh!!" Dean's knees buckled, he clutched his stomach as the pain came in waves. Keeping one hand on the car so as to not collapse on the ground Dean gritted his teeth through the growing agony. "Sam?" he tried, but Sam was too far away to hear him. Gradually the pain subsided, then just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.
Dean breathed out slowly and pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. 'I gotta eat something,' he thought grimly.
"I just wish he'd talk to me." Sam swallowed the last of his coffee and placed the mug down next to his empty plate.
"Give him time." Bobby refilled his mug. "Is he coming for breakfast?"
"He said he would but…" Sam rubbed his eyes; he really should get some sleep.
"Yeah, I said I would." Dean was leaning against the door frame, clean and fresh from the shower. When Sam and Bobby shifted uncomfortably, he took his place at the table.
"Hey," Sam cleared his throat, "you ok?" Dean looked at him.
"Yes Sammy, I'm ok. Could do with some coffee though." Bobby filled a mug and handed it to him. "Thanks." Dean took a sip of the coffee, pulled a face and put it down again.
"You want some breakfast?" Bobby asked.
"You know what? I'm not really hungry." Dean put his hand to his stomach, he didn't feel like he could keep anything down even if he tried.
"Dean, you…" Sam started but stopped as Dean doubled over crying out in pain. "Dean?" Urgently, Sam rushed to his side. "What's wrong? What is it?"
Dean tried to stand sending his chair flying, but his legs refused to hold and he collapsed on the floor. His teeth clenched and his eyes squeezed shut.
"Sam!" Dean's hand shot out and grabbed Sam by the wrist.
"I'm here, Dean. What's wrong? Talk to me." Sam took him by the shoulders and stared into his face as if he would find answers there. Slowly Dean started to breathe more steadily. What ever it was, it was passing.
"Hell boy, what's wrong with you?" Bobby pulled his chair back and helped Sam haul Dean into it. Dean put his head in his hands and coughed harshly.
"Dean, what's going on?" Sam grabbed a glass of water from the table and tried to make Dean drink some. Dean took the glass and downed some thirstily. Almost immediately he coughed it back up.
"I dunno, but it hurts like hell," Dean said gasping to catch is breath.
"How long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me?" Sam sounded hurt, how could Dean keep something like this from him.
"Hey, it only just started out in the yard. I figured it was hunger pains." Dean flopped back in the chair. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"It only started after you got back this morning?" Bobby asked striding over to his huge piles of books. The book they'd used to identify the Grawshna still lay on the table.
"Yeah, so what?" Dean tried to sound unbothered, but Sam could tell Bobby's question concerned him.
"Sam, you been feeling ok?" Bobby asked flicking the pages of the book back and forth.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam looked confused. "Bobby, what is it?"
"You think this has got something to do with the Grawshna!" Dean gazed steadily at Bobby, who stopped turning the pages and returned his stare.
"What? You mean its breath?" Sam asked. "No, neither of us got hit with it, besides you said if it hit us we'd be dead almost instantly."
"Yes I did," Bobby agreed. "Did you come into contact with it any other way, after you killed it maybe? Its potency wouldn't have been as strong then, but it would've still been dangerous."
"No, we killed it then burned it, that's all. No clouds of smoke, nothing." Sam looked to Dean. "Right, Dean?" Dean shook his head and grinned grimly. "Dean, right?"
"You gotta be kidding me," Dean tipped his head back laughing hoarsely. "Well that's just great." He stood and walked unsteadily to the doorway. "So how long's this gonna last, cause let me tell ya, it really sucks."
"Dean, you're not getting it," Bobby said sadly. "This ain't gonna get better on its own."
"Should we go to a hospital?" Sam suggested.
"And say what, Sam? Infected by an unknown poison? I'd be in quarantine quicker than I could get the nurse's number." Dean wasn't laughing.
"So, what are you saying Bobby?" Sam couldn't move. He just waited.
"He's saying I'm gonna die Sammy," Dean said harshly. "Isn't that right?" Dean looked at Bobby for a split second before shaking his head and leaving the room.
Sam just stood there, he couldn't speak, he couldn't think. There had to be a mistake. Bobby was wrong.
"I'm sorry, Sam, but if it is this Grawshna's poison, I'm not sure there's anything we can do." Bobby stood there helplessly.
"No." Sam finally found his voice. "There's gotta be something." Frantically he started rummaging through the pages of the book. "Come on."
"Sam…" Bobby said.
"I can't lose him too," Sam said through gritted teeth, leaning with both hands on the table. "There's no way I'm losing him too, not after…"
"Sam. Go check on him. I'll keep looking, and I'll make some calls," Bobby said, gently guiding him away from the table. "I'll let you know as soon as I find anything."
Sam's face was vacant but he nodded and allowed himself to be led away.
"Thanks Bobby."
-
Predictably Sam found Dean by the Impala, he was sweeping up the broken glass from his last outburst. Sam held back before going over and just watched Dean work. Dean looked pale, like he had in the hospital after the crash and the time he got electrocuted. The amount of times he'd almost left Sam, now he was about to do it again, and this time they might not get their miracle. Sam might actually lose Dean for good. Then Sam would be alone. Sam used to think that's what he wanted, just to be on his own away from this life, and all Dean had ever wanted was for them to be a family, for them to be together. But now that their dad was dead that would never happen. Since then Dean hadn't been the same, he had shut down his emotions, more so than usual. But worse, he wouldn't talk to Sam about it, not even a little. Dean said he was dealing, but Sam new he wasn't. How Dean was going to react to this he didn't know, and the thought scared him. But as Sam watched, he couldn't help but be angry at Dean. How could he have let this happen?
"Why don't you take a picture Sammy, something to remember me by?" Dean didn't even turn round; he just new Sam was there. 'Cause where else would Sam be?
Sam choked on a short laugh. Of course Dean would react like that.
"So what are you gonna do Dean, just work on the car and hope this will all go away?" Sam couldn't help feel frustrated with Dean, this was really bad, and he was acting so flippant. Dean stopped and leant on his broom.
"Yes Sam, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna work on the car and pretend none of this is happening." Dean stared evenly at Sam.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Sam shook his head.
"So what, you're gonna attack me now?" Dean threw his broom down.
"You know what? Maybe someone should knock some sense into you." Sam advanced on him. "I mean, how could you be so stupid Dean?"
"What?" Dean was taken back.
"Getting close to that thing, knowing what it could do." Sam couldn't help it, it all just poured out.
"Hey, I didn't know it could do this. The thing was dead, Sam," Dean said defensively.
"Man, I know you can be a bit reckless at times but…"
"So this is my fault? You're gonna blame me for this?" Dean pointed to himself as his voice got louder.
"Well you…" Sam stopped himself. What was he doing? His brother was dying, and he was picking a fight. "You're just not usually careless, that's all." Sam forced himself to calm down.
"Well I'm sorry, Sam. I made a mistake, ok?" Dean was angry, and Sam didn't blame him. "It's part of the job. You can't get it right all of the time, you know that."
Sam looked at the ground, now that he'd gotten his anger out he just felt guilty.
"Dean, I'm sorry," he said after a long pause. Sam squinted at him, that little boy look he used to give him when they were kids. Dean half smiled.
"Yeah, me too."
"Well look. Bobby's looking in the…" Sam began but Dean held his hand out for him to stop.
"I'm not gonna die, Sammy, so don't you go worrying yourself," Dean said seriously, turning to continue work on his car. "You know, it would be times like this I'd take her out for a spin, just hit the open road and forget it all." Dean looked distant for a second.
"I don't think you driving would be the best idea right now." Sam moved to help Dean lift the hood of the trunk off the car.
As they laid it down Dean paused, as if he was in pain again.
"Dean?" Sam said cautiously.
"I'm ok." Dean stood up straight and held his arms out. "See, I'm gonna be fine."
Sam smiled and felt some relief wash over him. Maybe it would be ok, and they were just over reacting.
Dean watched as Sam looked visibly calmer and was glad, Sam didn't need this right now, he had enough to deal with. Dean wasn't lying, he wasn't going to die; he couldn't. He'd made a promise to his dad and he intended to keep it.
"Bobby's gonna call some people, see if he can get some more information," Sam told him.
"Yeah, I figured he might. We're lucky to have him. He's a good man."
"I know. Do you…" Sam stopped suddenly and grabbed the crowbar. "Dean!" Sam threw the crowbar to him. Automatically Dean caught it and swung round behind him. He connected with it before he even saw it. As it staggered a little, Dean backed away. It was the Grawshna, or at least it looked like the Grawshna, it seemed quite a bit smaller.
"Don't tell me we've gotta deal with monster's vengeful spirits now too." Dean said in disbelief. "'Cause getting justice for that thing could be problematic."
The Grawshna came at him on all fours, sharp claws flexing in anticipation. Dean held his weapon up ready for it. Then the pain hit, his body started to convulse slightly, and his hand lost purchase on the crowbar. Sam was there in an instant. He had an iron bar in his hand and planted it in the Grawshna's bug-like eye. It reared back making a sound that could only be described as a deathly scream. The bar protruded from its eye and purple blood pulsed from the wound.
"That's no ghost," Sam said, he searched the ground and found Dean's lost weapon. Scooping it up he turned to the creature who was already preparing to lunge at him. Dean tried to stand, but couldn't find the strength.
Suddenly a shot rang out, the Grawshna reeled back. Another shot. These shots were penetrating the Grawshna's black, armour-like skin, and blood leaked all over the ground.
Dean looked to where the shots came from and saw Bobby reloading a shotgun. Then Sam was at his side looking distraught.
'So much for hiding it from him,' Dean thought as he rolled on his side. Somewhere far away he could hear more gunfire, but it seemed so distant. The day was getting dark. Strange, he thought it was still morning. His body shook as the pain took hold. Everything went black, and it was over.
-
Sam sat by the bed where his brother lay lifelessly and squeezed the water from the cloth into a bowl. Solemnly he wiped away the dried blood that had escaped Dean's mouth when he'd fallen.
"You lied to me," he said, there was anger in his voice but mostly just sadness. "You said you were gonna be fine, but you knew that wasn't true." Sam put the bowl down and looked at the floor. A single tear trailed down his cheek. Sam didn't wipe it away, he felt it tickle as it slid and then hung for a second on his chin before separating itself and falling to the floor.
Dean shivered. Sam snapped his head up and sighed as Dean opened his eyes.
"You crying, Sam?" Dean tried to sit up but it proved more difficult than it should have.
"No," Sam said bluntly, quickly wiping his face. Dean grinned at him.
"Yeah sure." Dean tried again to sit up, Sam helped him, and together they managed it. "What happened? Please don't tell me these sons of bitches regenerate or something."
"No, but they do reproduce," Sam smiled wryly.
"What?" Dean look half confused half pissed off. "You mean there are more of them out there?"
"A lot more," Sam confirmed.
"Bobby?"
"Yeah, he spoke to a buddy of his who'd dealt with these creatures before," Sam explained.
"And this buddy of his said they reproduce?" Dean wasn't quite following. "So the Grawshna we killed, that was one of its kids?"
"Yep, and there's a lot more where that one came from. That's not the half of it." Sam stood and went to the window.
"Oh great, more good news, just what we need," Dean waited. "Spill Sammy, I haven't got all day over here."
"There could be at least another half dozen of these things, and they're all gunning for us." Sam turned to face Dean. Dean's eyes widened, quickly he swung his legs round and put his feet on the floor. Sam could see he was fighting to keep from blacking out again.
"Dean, you shouldn't…"
"I'm fine Sam," Dean said stubbornly. "So why exactly are they coming after us? And how?"
"Well apparently whatever's making you sick is like a homing beacon to them," Sam told him.
"So what you mean is, they're gunning for me?" Dean's shoulders dropped and he smiled wryly.
"Erm, Yeah. Sorry," Sam rubbed his eyebrow. "It draws them in, and they're coming to kill their mother's murderers."
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Yeah I know, monsters with family. When did that happen?" Sam stopped, suddenly realising what he'd said. He looked guiltily at Dean.
"Yeah and we know that they like to get revenge," Dean scoffed.
Sam remembered how Dean, to save Sam's life, had fired the Colt, blowing out the brains of the man the Demon's boy was possessing. He also remembered how he himself had read the words that killed Meg, when in the very next room the Demon's daughter was exorcised. He remembered how the Demon had revelled in his revenge, torturing Dean mentally and physically.
So yes, monsters had family, and they got pissed when people killed them.
"So why are they bothering to come kill me, I mean this poison's doing a good enough job of that on its own, right?" Dean's words jolted Sam back to reality. "This stuff is still killing me isn't it?"
"What? Oh yeah. But that's the bad news."
"The bad… you mean there's good news somewhere in all this?" Dean had been pulling on his boots, but now he stopped and waited.
Sam paused to smile at him, knowing he was leaving him in suspense.
"There's a cure." Sam watched Dean's reaction. It took a while to sink in and he looked like he didn't quite believe it.
"Well hell, what is it? Let's go get it." Dean finished putting on his boots and was on his feet. Sam rushed to catch him in case he fell. "Dude, I'm ok." Dean shook him off.
"Well that's where the bad news comes in," Sam said grimly his smile fading.
"Comes in?" Dean looked at him. "You mean comes back don't you? Well, what is it?"
"To make the cure, we need some of that toxic gas in its pure form. The Grawshna's store it as a liquid in their throat, and it only becomes gas when it mixes with enough air. If we can get that Bobby's got everything else we need to do it," Sam explained.
"Ok. How come that's bad news? I mean if we've got an army of these things coming for us we can just get some from one of them!" Dean didn't see the problem.
"No, we can't. They don't have it. They're not mature enough." Sam watched as Dean deflated. "That does, however, mean they're easier to kill. Their skin isn't as tough yet and bullets can penetrate it."
"Great. So what are we supposed to do, catch one and wait for the little sucker reach puberty?"
"We don't have time." Sam couldn't look at him. He could feel the tears starting to build up again and couldn't deal with Dean taking the piss out of him for it.
Dean sighed and held his stomach. He knew the pain would soon rear its ugly head again.
"You mean I don't have time. How long have I got Sam?"
"A day, at most." Sam's voice cracked as he spoke, he watched Dean carefully. Dean's jaw was set. His fists clenched so hard Sam could see Dean's knuckles turn white. Slowly Dean nodded.
From out side the room they heard gunshots. Dean grabbed the handle and threw the door open. Together they ran out to see Bobby standing over the body of another one of the offspring.
"Urgh, that's gonna make a mess," Bobby grimaced picking his way around the body and towards the boys. "How you feeling, Dean?"
"Been better," Dean said shortly. "You alright?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Gotta be careful though. These little critters are fast and unless you're paying attention you won't hear 'em coming." Bobby reloaded his shotgun. "I've got some good news for you boys."
"Yeah? I hope it's better than the last bit of good news I had." Dean put his hand out to lean against the wall.
"Well, I know where you can find some of that gas we need for your cure." Bobby went to the table where he had set up what looked like a mini chemistry set. There was a Bunsen burner heating some bubbling liquid, jars and bowls of things dotted around the table.
"What? Really? Where?" Sam's heart lifted and beat fast with anticipation.
"The way I figure it, if there's offspring there has to be a mate right?" Bobby readjusted his baseball cap before starting to crush what looked like an herb with a mortar and pestle.
"Of course. It'll probably be at its lair where we first tracked the other one to." Sam was getting excited.
"So why isn't hubby gunning for me too?" Dean sounded tired, Sam worried they were running out of time faster than they'd thought.
"From what I can tell it's only the kids who have the link to the scent, something passed on by the mother." Bobby explained. From the table he picked up what looked like a test tube with a bung in one end. "This should do to hold the liquid safely till you can get it back here." He held it towards Sam, but Dean grabbed it before Sam could get there.
"Alright, so let's go get it." Dean moved towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Sam stood between him and the door.
"Where am I going?" Dean held up the test tube. "I'm gonna go slice open this son of a bitch."
"No Dean. There's no way you're going." Sam refused to move. Dean looked at him and shook his head, his lips pursed together.
"Say, Bobby. This cure, is it guaranteed to work?" Dean didn't take his eyes off Sam.
"Well, you can't really guarantee these things," Bobby admitted hesitantly, looking from one brother to the other.
"So tell me, Sam, how are you going to get this stuff without infecting yourself too?" Dean raised his eyebrows and waited.
"I'll wear a mask." Sam said simply, folding his arms across his chest and standing just that little bit taller.
"Oh yeah, cause that'll work." Dean said sarcastically. "Face it Sam, you need me there. You can't do this by yourself."
"I'll manage." Sam stood his ground.
"No Sam. You're not risking it." Dean dismissed him and tried to push past.
"So what, you're allowed to risk your life but I'm not? That it?" Sam moved into his way again.
"If needs be," Dean shrugged.
"In what whacked out reality are you living Dean?"
"Listen Sammy, even if you do waste this thing yourself, what if you get infected too and then the cure doesn't work?" Dean waited while Sam shifted, avoiding Dean's gaze.
"Well, I won't." Sam said weakly.
"You don't know that Sam. You can't. I won't let you risk that for me."
"Dean."
"Not to mention the place is probably crawling with offspring too." Dean waited, arms crossed.
Sam didn't look happy but he knew Dean was right. Eventually he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
"Fine, alright. But you tell me as soon as you think you can't deal."
"Sure thing. Let's go." Dean patted Sam on the back as he went outside, to where Bobby had a car ready waiting for them. Sam exchanged glances with Bobby before following him out.
Dean was leaning on the car. He appeared to be short of breath.
"Oh yeah, you can deal just fine." Sam knew there was nothing he could say to change Dean's mind, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He was worried. What if Dean couldn't handle himself? He was getting weaker by the minute. What if Sam couldn't protect him?
"There you go." Bobby put their bag of weapons and equipment in the trunk. "You boys be careful now. I've gotta distil that stuff for about two hours and mix a few more ingredients, but I'll have everything set up by the time you get back."
"Are you gonna be ok Bobby, what if more of those things come around?" Sam asked concerned.
"What, you think I can't handle myself?" Bobby said. "Besides, they're gonna be following you, not me. I shouldn't have any problems."
"Right." Sam mentally readied himself.
"Do ya think we could do this already, it's not like I've got a whole mass of time," Dean said weakly still leaning on the car for support.
"Right," Sam said again.
They climbed into the car, and Sam started the engine. As the power spread through the dash board the stereo came on.
'I hope you got your shit together, Hope you are quite prepared to die, Looks like we're in for nasty weather, One eye taken for an eye.'
Sam and Dean just stared at the stereo. Images of John sitting bloody beside him with Dean, unconscious in the back sprung into Sam's head. He could feel the Colt in his hand as the car door was ripped away
'Don't go round tonight, it's bound to take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise.'
Dean clicked the stereo off, and as the music disappeared, so did the images.
"Let's go," Dean said grimly.
"Yeah." Sam put the car in gear, and they drove away in silence.
-
Dean hefted the machete in his hand. It was heavier than he remembered. Beside him Sam carried his own machete on his belt, but had a shotgun in his hand. They cautiously picked their way through the abandoned apartment block; graffiti covered the walls and doors and anything else it could get to.
"Do you smell that?" Dean asked, pausing to smell the air.
"Yeah, it's close," Sam confirmed. "How you doing?"
"Dude, would you stop asking me that, I'm ok. Ok?" Dean new Sam was just concerned but how could he do his job if he thought his brother didn't trust him to. Although in reality he didn't trust himself either, he knew he was fading, and had no idea where he was going to find the strength to fight; it was all he could do to stand.
"Sorry," Sam said defensively. He checked through the next door, swinging the gun from one side of the room to the other. It was clear.
"Sam?" Dean stopped.
"What's wrong?" Sam was immediately on alert, looking around cautiously.
"I'm sorry Sam. I know you're just worried." Dean leant against the wall and coughed hoarsely.
"You're not alright, are you?" Sam actually looked terrified at the prospect of losing Dean.
"It's just…you know I gotta be here to get the stuff right?"
"Yes Dean, you made that clear." Dean could tell he had really pissed Sam off.
"It's just…" Dean didn't know how to make him understand. "When we find it…"
Dean coughed again, this time for longer, and his chest burnt with every cough.
When the coughing subsided Dean looked at Sam painfully. Sam was smiling sadly at him.
"Dude, I know," Sam told him. "When we find it, I'm on my own. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Yeah well," Dean half laughed, half coughed. "You just make sure you stay away from that toxic waste of an excuse for breath." Dean could feel the pain starting to erode away his gut.
"Let's go." He staggered forward pushing Sam ahead of him.
Dean's jaw clenched so hard against the pain his teeth hurt. He tried to hold it in, he tried to fight it away, but it overcame him and a cry escaped his lips.
Straight away Sam was there, holding him up and asking him questions. Dean couldn't hear a word through the deafening pain. Tears fell from his eyes, but through them Dean could see, they were coming, two of them.
"SAM!" Dean tried.
"I'm here Dean, it's gonna be ok." Sam looked so worried as he held Dean up against the wall, using it as extra support.
"Look out!" Dean managed, but too late. One of the Grawshna's offspring had pounced and bowled Sam over. Its claws tore into Sam, and Dean could see blood on the ends of them, Sam's blood.
From somewhere within him he felt a strength, it was there and he didn't question it, instead he harnessed it. He gripped his machete with both hands and swung it as hard as he could. The creatures head came clean off and its body slumped over Sam's.
Dean fell to his knees and pushed the decapitated corpse of Sam.
"You ok little brother?" To his relief, Sam moved.
"Who said you didn't have my back?" Sam grinned at him. "Wow!" Quickly Sam raised his shotgun and immediately fired.
He only caught the second creature on its side and it kept coming. Dean rolled onto his back and tried to hold up his blade but he doubled over in pain. His chest felt like it was a volcano about to erupt, and he could do nothing but lie on the floor and endure the agony. But he watched every move Sam made, he watched as Sam jumped to his feet and pulled his machete from his belt, standing his ground until the Grawshna was almost on him, and then in one fluid move he dodged to the side, spun round, and sliced the creature's gut. The offspring landed next to Dean on the floor and Sam hacked its head off with out a moment's hesitation. Dean had never been more proud of Sam than he was right then.
"Guess I got your back too, huh?" Sam grinned at him, but then seemed to realise how bad Dean was.
Dean coughed violently. As he did he tasted the iron of his blood and felt it trickle from his mouth.
"Oh god." Sam saw the blood and knelt beside him. "Dean, what can I do?"
"Kill it," was all Dean could manage. Sam took his hand firmly and stared into his eyes.
"I'll be right back. I promise. I'll be right back," Sam swore to him. Dean started to convulse and Sam hesitated.
"Go!" Dean forced through gritted teeth, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his hand gun to show Sam he wasn't unprotected.
"I'll be back." Sam promised. Then he stood, determined. Sam picked up his shotgun, and with one last look at Dean, regret showing in his eyes, he turned away.
Dean watched Sam go, and as soon as he was out of sight, Dean allowed the pain to take over. He was shaking so hard his limbs began to flail. He released his grip on his gun, not wanting to fire it accidentally. He could feel his brain hitting the sides of his skull and discovered he could no longer see. There was nothing he could do but wait for it to pass and try not to choke on the blood that was filling his mouth with every chest-wrenching cough. Eventually the pain took his consciousness, and he lay convulsing on the floor. Down the hallway, an offspring slowly closed in on its prey.
-
Sam took the stairs two at a time. He knew he had to be cautious but time was of the essence. Besides, it was a fair bet the Grawshna already knew he was coming from the gunshot. Tenderly, Sam felt his torso where the offspring had clawed him, luckily none of the wounds were too deep, but there was a lot of blood, so he figured the creature could also smell him. 'Great,' he thought.
Reaching the first floor, Sam slowed and aimed his gun down the hall. The odour here was stronger. It was definitely on this level. Carefully Sam picked his way over abandoned boxes and chairs. A kid's tricycle lay on its side covered in cobwebs and graffiti. Then Sam heard it. It was behind him. He spun with the gun and fired. The shot bounced off the creature's armour-like skin and ricocheted into the wall.
"Huh!"
The Grawshna growled at him and charged full speed.
"Oh crap." Sam dropped his gun and pulled out his machete. Too late, the Grawshna was on him. Sam stabbed out with the blade but it only clanged against the creature's chest causing no damage. The Grawshna swung and took a chunk out of Sam's left arm.
"Argh." Sam tried to get the blade in the Grawshna's neck, knowing there was a soft spot there. The creature roared and took another swipe at Sam, catching him in the face and sending him flying down the corridor.
Sam scrambled to his feet, ignoring the sting in his left cheek. That was going to be another black eye. He held up his blade and noticed there was purple blood on it. He couldn't help but grin and stood ready for the thing to come again. But it didn't. It stood warily a few feet away. Sam slowly backed his way towards the stairs where there was more room to move. The Grawshna followed, but at a distance. Then it tipped its head back as if taking a breath.
"Oh sh…" Quickly Sam dove towards the stairs and tumbled painfully down a few. The toxic cloud just missed his feet and evaporated on the wall. Sam scrambled down the stairs narrowly avoiding another cloud. He didn't stop and could hear the Grawshna stalking him. The left sleeve of his jacket was drenched in blood. Through the tear in the fabric Sam could see the wound was deep and bleeding too hard. Ripping off a piece of his t-shirt Sam tied it tightly round his arm to stem the bleeding, and he knew he could no longer use that arm in this fight. He stood with his back against the wall and waited, willing his heart to beat slower so as not to lose too much more blood.
-
Dean opened his eyes, but his vision didn't come back right away. The pain had lingered this time, it sort of pulsated in waves through his stomach and chest. The side of his face was wet and he could smell the blood that had pooled under his cheek. He wiped it away and sat quietly listening. He could hear sounds of a struggle and heard Sam cry out.
"Dam it." Dean tried to get to his feet. As his vision slowly cleared, it made his head swim, and he had no choice but to remain sitting for the time being. But wait, there was another sound, a closer one. Dean's hand searched the ground. Finally it found its purchase on the handle of his machete. Dean tried to blink away the blurriness and against the wall he could just make out the shadow moving stealthily his way. Another cough threatened to escape but Dean fought it away. Suddenly the shadow was gone, it had moved so fast Dean didn't see where it went. Frantically he searched the hallway but couldn't see it. He forced himself to his feet and shook away the dizziness.
Slowly and unsteadily Dean crept along the wall, trying to use it as little as possible for support.
Suddenly Dean was thrown forward, somehow he managed to stay on his feet, but his right shoulder throbbed, and Dean knew he was bleeding. Keeping what he had left of his wits, Dean held his weapon ready, having to use both hands to hold the heavy machete up. Still he couldn't see it. Slowly he steadied his breathing and listened whilst carefully walking forwards. There was no sound from Sam, and Dean willed him to be ok. His foot hit something hard. Dean bent down to examine it.
"Nice," he murmured and scooped up his gun. Then it was in front of him, it didn't try and stay out of sight, it was like it could tell Dean wasn't that much of a match, that he was fading fast, and it was just there to witness his demise. Something in Dean told him it could sense the pain that still lingered in him, the pain that wouldn't go away now until he was dead.
"Well, screw you," Dean shouted. He raised the gun and fired at it point blank between the eyes. The offspring yelped as its face exploded, purple blood splattered against the walls, and then it didn't make anymore noise. Dean fired another three shots sneering at it. "I ain't dead yet," he barely spoke this as he collapsed on his knees.
-
"Well, screw you."
Sam heard Dean shouting from down the hall, then gun fire, lots of it. Then, silence. His breathing became heavier as he listened for signs of both the Grawshna and Dean. He desperately wanted to go and see if Dean was alright, but knew if he did he would be giving away his position. His eyes were trained in the direction of the gunfire, searching for any sign of Dean. Nothing.
Suddenly the Grawshna burst from the stairwell, knocking Sam off his feet while ripping open his already bruised cheek. Quickly Sam got up to defend himself, but the creature was gone. It had charged top speed in Dean's direction.
"DEAN!!" Sam yelled as loud as he could and pelted after them. He skidded round the corner just in time to see the creature throwing Dean through the air, sending him crashing through a door and into one of the apartments. Using only his right hand, Sam raised his weapon and ran as fast as he could whilst watching the Grawshna stalk through the doorway, toxic gas seeping through its teeth.
When Sam got there he was relieved to see Dean was alive, but he was struggling to get to his feet, his head was bleeding badly, and his right arm appeared to be out of action.
"Gimme a friggin break." Dean complained, stumbling backwards over a little coffee table.
"Dean," Sam said, letting him know he was there.
"Sam," Dean looked relieved to see that Sam was ok.
The Grawshna half turned when it heard Sam's voice. Sam put himself back on alert and prepared for attack, but the Grawshna turned back to Dean. It appeared to be sniffing him. Perhaps it could sense the poison and knew Dean had killed its mate. Sam looked at Dean, there was no way he could survive another attack. Plus Sam noticed he was unarmed, he must've dropped his weapons when he was thrown.
"Ah, crap." Dean found himself pinned in the corner of the room, and the creature was growling at him.
"Dean!" Sam threw him the machete. Dean tried to catch it but the Grawshna turned at Sam's voice, and the weapon was knocked away by its head.
"Damn it." Dean scrambled towards the machete, but as soon as he moved the Grawshna was back on him. Dean was pinned against the wall again. The Grawshna breathed in, it was getting ready to spit its toxins straight in Dean's face.
"NO!" Sam launched himself at the Grawshna, landing on its back. Holding on the best he could with one hand he fired the shotgun point blank at its head.
The top of the Grawshna's head disintegrated, and Sam and the creature fell forwards. They hit the ground narrowly avoiding Dean's feet. Dean crawled over to Sam and pulled him away. He needn't have bothered, as Sam scurried away as quickly as possible.
Both brothers sat there, leant up against the wall just staring at the headless creature.
"So that's it huh?" Dean gave Sam a sideways glance.
"Guess so." Sam nodded slowly.
"You got the test tube?" Dean held out his hand.
"What? No you've got it." Sam turned to look at him. "You do have it right?
Dean searched his pockets.
"Oh yeah, here it is." Dean pulled it out of his jacket. "At least it's not broken." He grinned at Sam. Sam grinned right back.
"So you gonna…?" Dean indicated for Sam to leave the room.
"Oh, yeah." Sam got to his feet and went to the doorway. "You do what you gotta do."
"Yeah, wonderful," Dean muttered under his breath. He pulled out his pen knife and stuck into the Grawshna's neck. Quickly, he stuck the test tube in, and it filled with lilac coloured liquid, shoving the bung on, he backed away as more gas escaped from the creature's neck.
"Still stinks," he muttered. "All done, Sammy, time to go." Dean crawled away from the Grawshna's corpse.
"About time." Sam took the vial from him and helped him to his feet.
"Yep, glad that's over." Dean allowed Sam to lead him from the room and down the corridor.
"Yeah, why's that?" Sam half laughed.
"'Cause I'm done." Dean collapsed. Sam tried to hold him, but he was a dead weight, and his head smacked the ground. Sam took Dean's head in his hands and searched for some signs of life.
"Dean? DEAN?" Sam cradled Dean's head in his lap. Dean was still. His eyes were closed.
"Dean?" Sam tried weakly, he shook him as if that would cause a reaction. There was none.
Sam didn't know what to do. He checked Dean's breathing, to his relief it was there, but it was shallow.
"Come on Dean." Sam held him, probably the closest thing they'd had to a hug in years. "Don't die on me now" he whispered in Dean's ear, tears escaped his eyes but he didn't notice.
Dean didn't move.
-
"BOBBY!" Sam struggled to pull Dean from the car with just his right arm, his left hung useless and bloody at his side.
"Oh Jesus," Bobby came rushing outside and helped Sam with Dean's lifeless body.
"Are we too late?" Sam's voice was strained. His adrenaline was running out and exhaustion was setting in.
Bobby quickly checked Dean over. Sam waited impatiently.
"He's not bleeding too badly, his wounds have already clotted, but we'd better hurry." Bobby grabbed Dean under the arms and dragged him inside. "Everything's ready. Where's the toxin?"
Bobby left Dean on the floor and took the vial from Sam.
"What can I do?" Sam stood idly, trying not to get in the way.
"Just keep an eye on him." Bobby worked quickly as Sam watched from Dean's side.
Bobby took a long needle and forced it through the bung into the vial, painfully slowly he withdrew the toxin.
"That's not gonna…?" Sam asked nervously.
"Not if I do this right." Bobby never broke concentration. Carefully he inserted the needle into another bung and sent the lilac toxin flowing through a tube. At the end it began to mix with the clear concoction Bobby had prepared. Slowly it turned colour becoming a darker purple.
Bobby stood back and sighed with relief.
"Now what?" Sam asked expectantly. Bobby pointed at Dean.
"Now we get him in the other room. It's all prepared."
Once Dean was settled on the bed Bobby brought in the container of purple liquid.
"Once I let this go we'll have to leave him on his own." Bobby placed the container on a small table in the middle of the room.
"Why, is it dangerous for us?" Sam sat next to Dean and stared at him anxiously. His skin was ashen, he looked already dead. Half his face was blood stained, and every now and then he shivered slightly. That at least confirmed to Sam that he was still alive.
"It shouldn't be, but it's not worth the risk. Won't do any good, mind." Bobby placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Bobby?" Sam said quietly, feeling like a small child again. "Is this going to work?" A tear escaped his eye and traced a clean streak down his face.
"Honestly?" Bobby sighed. "It's a slim chance. Ideally he should be awake and really take it in."
Sam's hands began to shake and more tears fell freely.
"His breathing is so shallow, I dunno if it's gonna be enough." Bobby told him truthfully. "Come on boy. The quicker we get this started…"
Sam nodded and as Bobby went to the container Sam leant over Dean.
"Don't you leave me, you hear? I need you here, with me."
"Ready, Sam." Bobby said gently.
"You fight this Dean, after everything else, you fight this." Sam took one last look and then nodded to Bobby.
As soon as Sam was out of the room Bobby removed the lid and quickly followed him out. He shut the door, but not before Sam heard a slight hiss. The liquid bubbled slightly and slowly started excreting a pale violet steam.
"The room's sealed," Bobby informed him. "Now we let him breathe that all in and wait and see."
Sam just stared at the closed door.
"Come on Sam. This is gonna take a while, let's get you cleaned up, hey." Solemnly Sam allowed Bobby to lead him to the other room. Tenderly he removed his top; it was sticky with blood and needed to be peeled away from his skin in places. Bobby examined his arm.
"Hell boy. What was that thing trying to do, rip it off?" Bobby carefully cleaned the wound.
"Yeah, I guess." Sam didn't flinch. He barely felt it as Bobby patched his wounds. "This is my fault," Sam muttered, staring at the ground.
"What?" Bobby carefully applied a bandage to Sam's arm. "What nonsense is that?"
"It's my fault. All of it. I'm cursed." Sam was distant as he spoke. "First mum and Jess. Then dad, and now Dean."
"Now you listen to me," Bobby said sternly. "This is not your fault, any of it. Now get those thoughts out of your head right now. Thing's like that aren't going to help Dean any, and neither is feeling sorry for yourself."
Sam didn't respond. He just stared at the floor.
"Now, Dean's gonna be in there for a long while yet. I suggest you get some rest." Bobby finished dressing his torso and patched up his cheek.
Sam nodded but just sat there. He heard Bobby sigh and walk away.
Sam stared at the door to Dean's room and waited.
-
Dean searched the halls of the apartment building. He could feel the comforting weight of the shotgun in his hand. He tried to breathe slowly so he could listen for even the faintest sound, but the drumming in his chest was so loud it drowned everything else out.
Dean was nervous, his hands were unsteady, and he couldn't focus properly. The walls of the apartment building seemed to pulsate in and out and there were so many shadows it was hard to tell if any of them were threatening.
"Come out. Come out, where ever you are," Dean muttered under his breath and hefted the shotgun, confirming his grip on it.
Then he heard it, the Grawshna was there some where. He could hear it moving around but couldn't place where it was coming from, it sounded like it was coming from every direction at once.
Dean raised his gun and trained it in front of him. Slowly he moved forward attempting to pinpoint the noise.
Then it was behind him, he whipped the gun round and fired it in the Grawshna's chest. The shot had no effect. He fired again, this hitting the creature's head. It bounced off as if he were throwing stones.
"What the…?" Dean was confused that should've taken its head off.
The creature swiped at him. Its claws tore into his stomach gouging out a deep wound. The pain was intense. Dean fell to his knees crying out in agony. The Grawshna swiped again and this time caught him in the chest. Dean was thrown back with the force. His stomach and chest felt like they were on fire, and he couldn't breathe. Desperately he gasped for breath, but his chest was so tight he just couldn't catch it. His head started to swim, and the room appeared to get smoky.
Holding an arm to his chest he backed away as the creature advanced on him. Frantically, he searched the floor for his machete, but it was no where to be found. There was nothing he could do, the pain was paralysing, he couldn't breathe, and he was unarmed. He stared up into the creature face. Its jaws were dripping with drool. It pulled back a moment, breathing in deeply.
"No," Dean whispered, he new what was coming, and there was no escaping it. The creature spat out its toxic cloud, it flew right at Dean's face. "NO."
-
Sam rushed to the door and grabbed the handle, but he didn't open it. Instead he listened in agony as Dean yelled. Sam rested his head on the door and clenched his teeth angrily. There was nothing he could do, no way he could help. All he could do was listen and wait.
"NO." On the other side of the door Dean shouted. Sam almost burst in right then, he wanted to be at Dean's side, he needed to be. But he knew he mustn't, if the steam escaped the room then there really would be no hope. All was silent.
Sam didn't know if that was a good sign or not. So he waited, terrified he was listening to Dean's dying cries.
-
Dean looked around disorientated. He was in the parking lot. It was the middle of the day but there was no one about. Suddenly remembering, he felt his chest and stomach. They were clean. There were no wounds, no blood, nothing. But deep down inside there was an ache as if his body was remembering the injuries and allowing the pain to linger.
This wasn't making any sense, he should be dead.
Dean sniffed. What was that smell? He looked at his feet and saw the smouldering remains of the Grawshna he'd killed, the creature that'd infected him.
"You killed it."
Dean looked up. Sam stood angrily glaring at him.
"That's what we do Sam, we kill things." Dean felt the need to defend himself.
"You kill. You're a killer." Sam said simply. His voice was calm but his face was a storm.
"No I…" Dean was lost for words, why was Sam saying these things?
"Look at what you've done." Sam turned and walked away.
Dean looked down again. The creature's corpse was gone, and in its place lay John. His eyes were closed and his arm was in a sling.
"Dad?" Dean choked on his words.
John's body erupted into flames. The heat was so strong Dean jumped back, shielding his face. He could feel the heat deep in his stomach.
"Did he say anything to you?" Sam asked from beside him, tears glistened on his cheeks in the firelight, his face was bruised and his eye swollen so badly it was only half open. It was night all of a sudden, and John's body was on a pyre. "About anything?"
"No," Dean could feel a tear welling in his eye as he stared at his father's burning body. "Nothing."
He heard himself say the words but had no control over them. The pit in his stomach eroded his insides. The pain was too real.
"Sam," Dean turned to his brother, desperate to explain.
Sam stabbed Dean in the gut. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but no sound escaped.
"Liar," Sam growled in his ear as he pulled him closer, Dean felt the knife slide deeper, and his stomach felt like the fire had infected it.
"Sam?" Dean pleaded, his eyes wide and hurt. He fell to the floor, and as the pain overwhelmed, him he looked up into Sam's fierce eyes staring accusingly down at him.
"I'm sorry," Dean managed before it all went black.
In a room full of pale purple steam, Dean curled up on the bed. Tears slipped from his closed eyes and he sobbed quietly.
-
Sam sat at the table, head in his hands. A coffee stood stone cold in front of him. His head slipped off his hands jerking him awake suddenly.
Sam rubbed his face roughly, attempting to shake off the lethargy that refused to go away.
How could he have fallen asleep? What if Dean had needed him? He was cross with himself even though deep down he knew there was nothing he could do.
It had been over a day already and nothing. Dean hadn't woken up, but at least he was still alive. The sudden cries of pain and fear had kept Sam sure of that.
Unable to resist the urge, Sam rose from his chair and went to Dean's door. At first he thought it was silent but gradually he could make out quiet sounds. Dean was crying.
"Dean?" Sam called gently, it was a futile effort but he'd thought just for a second that Dean was awake.
Sam sighed. He leant with his back against the door and slid down to sit on the floor.
There he stayed. Just in case.
-
"In the way of what?" Sam sneered.
'Oh god, not here.' Dean watched the scene play out before him, unable to do anything to stop it. 'Anywhere but here.'
"My plans for you, Sammy. You and all of the children like you." The Demon spoke through John's mouth like he owned it. Dean felt sick.
"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can't stand the monologuing." Dean spoke the words again and cringed as John turned away from Sam to grin at him.
"Funny. But that's all part of you m.o., isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain. Masks the truth." John was in his face, those yellow eyes betraying the Demon's presence. The problem was, he was right, that's exactly what Dean did. When something got hard he'd make a joke, brush it away, just to hide how sacred he really was.
"Oh yeah. What's that?" Dean glared right into those yellow eyes, his heart filled with pure hate.
"You know you fight, and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them." The Demon's sneer was painful to see, distorting his dad's face as his words sliced Dean like a knife. "Sam. He's clearly John's favourite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you." Dean's anger threatened to consume him. He knew what was coming and prayed to god it would stop now.
"I'll bet you're really proud of your kids too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted em." He felt his face distort into a menacing grin as he levelled his gaze with that evil son of a bitch.
The Demon took a step back and looked down, for a split second Dean thought his dad had won him over. Even though he knew what was to happen, that little spark of hope still emerged.
When John looked up and those yellow eyes flashed, Dean's body, still pinned to the wall, erupted with pain.
Dean cried out and through the agony could hear Sam shouting his protests.
Through the pain Dean stared desperately at the face he loved, searching for even the slightest sign of his dad. He new he was there, watching and listening helplessly, trying to claw his way to the surface of his 'meat suit' and re-take control. Blood poured down Dean's body and he felt his strength waning.
"Dad, dad. Don't you let it kill me." Oh god, he'd really said that hadn't he. He'd known his dad could hear him and so he begged him to save his life, not to let him die. He'd given in to his fear and shown his weakness.
The demon raised his eyes again and Dean was swamped with pain once again.
"Dean." He could barely hear Sam's cries. He looked down at the blood streaming down his chest and was terrified. He didn't want to die, and maybe this time he really would.
"Dad, please." This time he could barely make a sound when the pain hit him, slowly his strength faded and the world started to turn dark.
This time it felt different, it felt more final. He was dying. The pain sharpened in his stomach.
"Liar."
Dean opened his eyes and the eyes he saw staring back at him weren't yellow, they were Sam's and they were mean.
Sam was pushing the knife further into Dean's gut and the burning was intense.
"Sam?" Dean was confused. Slowly the knife slid from him, and he fell to the floor.
When he looked up again the creature was advancing on him. He felt blood on his hands, he looked at his stomach and saw the gaping wound gush his red life force. The creature breathed in, preparing to spit its toxic gas in his face.
It was all too much, the pain, the fear, the loneliness. As the poisonous cloud flew at him, Dean cowered behind his arms and screamed.
"DEAN? DEAN?" It was Sam's voice, it was calling from somewhere but Dean couldn't tell where. It was filled with fear and concern, and in that moment, Dean knew he wasn't alone, he would never be alone, and there was no way he was leaving Sam to be on his own. He would be there for him, 'till what ever end they came to.
-
It had been over two days. Sam was exhausted, but still he refused to sleep more than a few minutes at a time. He was sitting outside Dean's door again. Bobby had put some food next to him when he'd dosed off, but he hadn't brought himself to eat any of it yet.
From the other side of the door Dean had been muttering something about their dad, and Sam wondered what was happening inside Dean's head. He was obviously having a nightmare. Suddenly, Dean screamed. It was bloodcurdling to hear. Dean sounded so terrified Sam couldn't take it anymore. He jumped to his feet and pounded on the door.
"DEAN? DEAN?" He shouted desperately. He waited. There was silence. "Oh god." Sam thought the worst.
-
Dean's eyelids fluttered open again, but the creature was gone. So were Sam and the Demon. Dean was alone.
Dean struggled to sit up and looked around. He was in a room filled with a purple steam. He was at Bobby's.
"Oh god." It came from behind the door.
"Sammy?" Dean called cautiously, not knowing what would happen next.
"Dean?" It was Sam. "You awake?"
"Could be debateable." Dean staggered to the door and twisted the handle. Before he could push it open it was pulled from his hand and he stumbled through the doorway. Sam caught him and held his arms tight, examining him as if making sure he was in one piece.
"You're alright," Sam smiled with relief. "You are alright, right?"
"I think so. I mean, I guess so. I'm alive. Aren't I?" Dean was still disorientated.
"I think you'll be just fine." Bobby appeared smiling next to them.
"Thank god," Sam sighed, as if he'd only just started to breathe again.
"What Sammy, you thought I was a goner?" Dean raised his eye brows at Sam. "You should know you can't get rid of me that easily." He grinned widely, and Sam grinned right back.
-
Sam stood and stared at the Impala. There was a fresh bandage on his arm, but at least he could use it now. His face was still black and blue. In fact he'd forgotten what it looked like when it wasn't all beat up.
The Impala's trunk was still busted, it was missing some doors, and well, it was a wreck.
Sam walked to the tool box and took out a wrench, he turned it over in his hands examining every inch of it, and then he looked at the car.
"Just what do you think you're gonna do with that?"
Sam turned and smiled.
"You don't think I'd risk it, do you?" Sam held the wrench out.
Dean took it and playfully punched his brother in the gut.
Sam grunted slightly. His torso was still sore from being nearly ripped open.
"Nah, you're the smart one, remember!" Dean was still pale and hadn't regained all his strength after spending over two days unconscious in a room full of toxic steam. Dean moved behind Sam and, using his left arm, grabbed him in a headlock playfully.
"See, I always kicked your ass," he said into Sam's ear. With a twist, Sam freed himself and locked Dean's arm painfully.
"We're not kids anymore," he said triumphantly.
"Yeah, whatever dude. Let go of me." Dean shook his arm free. Sam released his grip.
Together they stared at the Impala.
"Do you think you'll ever get her ready?" Sam questioned.
"Just watch me." Dean grinned and advanced on the car.
THE END
Special thanks:
To Paley for all her valuable time and effort.
And to Pixie for her priceless inspiration.