Dean sat in the dark, eyes closed and listened. He knew that if he concentrated enough he would hear a whisper of breath, of movement. He forced himself to relax, his silver .45 a weight in his hand.
There a little to the left, Dean moved the gun and sighted toward the sound, never once opening his eyes. He waited and heard it again, he adjusted his aim, took a breath and shot.
The creature screamed as the silver bullet pierced its heart. The scream moved thru Dean leaving him feeling wasted. He couldn't pause though. He started inching backward toward the warm weight of his brother. Sam was slumped against the wall he had been thrown against.
Dean's hands moved over Sam's body, checking for punctures or broken bones. Dean chanted to himself, his lips moving but no sound was forthcoming. A litany moved through Dean's brain as his hands worked "Save Sammy, save Sammy..." over and over again.
There were only two injuries that Dean could find. The first a swelling on the back of Sam's head where he had hit the wall and a wound in his shoulder that was seeping blood. Dean lifted Sam's head from where it rested on the floor.
"Sam, come on, Sammy. I need you to open your eyes. Come on, Dude, get it together" Dean felt Sammy stir slightly. He continued trying to wake his brother. "Sam," Dean tried tapping Sam's cheek, not a slap, but hard enough for Sam to feel it.
Dean groaned and leaned his forehead to Sam's. Come on Sammy, Dean thought, I just don't know if I can get you out of here...
888
Sam suddenly jerked awake. He was in the dark, a strange weight on his forehead. He stilled as he felt something drip on his cheek. Sam quickly shut his eyes against what he knew he would see. Jess, his beautiful Jess, spread eagle on the ceiling, dying as she burst into flames. Sam suddenly shouted, "No". Turning his head away from the sight he knew he would see.
Dean heard Sam's shouted cry and lifted his head. He couldn't see Sam's face, but he could feel the anguish in that cry. Dean put his head against Sam's and spoke softly. "Sam, Sammy, it's me, you're okay, Sam." Dean lifted a hand to touch Sam's face.
Sam's world suddenly righted itself. Memory slammed into him, the barn in upstate Pennsylvania, the witch they had been tracking. Sam could still feel something dripping on his face. "Dude, Dean I'm okay, there's no reason to cry."
Dean suddenly sat up straighter and said, "Man, she must have knocked you a good one Sam. I do not cry." Dean started pulling himself up, as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a lighter. As he flicked the lighter to life, he found he was surrounded by black candles. He reached out and lit a couple before crouching down to take another look at Sam.
Dean reached out a finger and wiped something off of Sam's face. As he held his hand up to the light he saw that it was blood. Dean quickly started running his fingers thru Sam's shaggy hair, cursing the fact that he didn't keep his hair shorter. Cursing that his brother had an injury and Dean couldn't tell where the blood was coming from.
888
Sam felt Dean pulling at him, checking his head for a wound and he suddenly pulled out of Dean's urgent hands. "Dean, let go. I'm fine, well not fine, but back off." Sam finally opened his eyes and saw the reason for all the blood.
Dean's face looked like a Halloween mask. There was an open wound along his hairline by his temple, the blood was moving down his face in rivulets. His eyes looked hollow and bruised.
Sam was suddenly reminded of the fact that neither man had slept for more than an hour in days. Money and food had been scarce, they had been sleeping in the car for the last couple of days.
Dean had been in too big a hurry to stop the witch, before she could do anymore damage, to hustle a pool game or make some money off of poker.
Sam thought back to the last time he had eaten, he tried to remember whether Dean had eaten or not.
Dean suddenly snapped, "Stop staring at me Francis. I'm fine now let's burn this bitch and get the hell out of here. I for one am sick of this damn town."
Sam nodded and took the hand offered by his brother. As Dean pulled Sam to his feet, Sam acknowledged that he would be glad to put the town of Scranton on his list of places he never wanted to see again. It had been gloomy and dark for days, and the constant drizzle had made them feel as if they would never really warm up again.
888
Dean wiped a hand across his face, smearing the blood that still flowed sluggishly from his head. He watched as Sam put his right hand to his face and swayed slightly, his left hand hugging his side. "Sammy, you sure you're okay. Can you get to the car? I'll take care of the witch. It'll only take me a minute."
"What are you going to do Dean?" Sam asked, eyes narrowed at Dean's words.
Dean started moving gathering their gear, herding Sam toward the open doors of the shack they were in. "I gotta torch the whole place, Sam it's just not right. This place is filled with so much dark magic that if anyone came across it'd be trouble. Besides, we're in the middle of a dirt field. The building's small and in all this rain there's no way it will spread.
Dean pushed Sam out the front door and continued to push him toward the Impala. "Sam, are you clear enough to drive?" At Sam's nod Dean led him to the driver's side door. "I want you ready just in case a flame does jump, alright Sam, no cell reception out here. If the fire does spread you gotta haul ass back to town for the fire department. No arguments."
Dean didn't wait for a response just popped open the trunk and removed the salt and gasoline. He quickly returned to the house. After he saturated the witch in salt and gasoline, he walked a short distance away. He picked up the lit candle and quickly threw the candle on the body, igniting it with a whoosh of blue flame. Dean turned and walked out.
Once he returned to the car, he put the equipment back in the truck. The area was suddenly became illuminated by the quickly engulfed shack. He slammed the lid of the trunk closed and walked toward the driver's side.
That's when he noticed that Sam was slumped against the steering wheel. Dean quickly yanked open the door and caught Sam just before he toppled to the ground.
Shit, Dean thought, to himself. He was shaking like a leaf, he ached everywhere and even worse he was tired and hungry.
He hadn't wanted Sammy to know that he had been using the last of his money to feed him and to buy supplies. So he had done what he had always did, gone without. But now it was starting to catch up to him.
He sighed at the effort it would cost him, but knew it needed to be done. He turned Sam slightly, so that he sat sideways in the seat. Then knees popping, Dean bent and pulled Sam over his shoulder fireman style. He moved quickly to the back seat, got the door pulled open and set Sam back down again, so that he now sat in the back seat. After some maneuvering and a lot of cursing on Dean's part, he managed to get Sam settled in the back seat.
Dean pulled an old blanket from the trunk and wrapped it around his baby brother. Dean snorted to himself baby, yeah right Sam weighed a ton. Apparently, Dean thought to himself there had been no need to give Sam so much extra food. Dean sighed, and pushed a hand through the hair on his head, trying to avoid the cut on his forehead. As he turned, he noticed the glow from the shack was dimming.
He settled himself in the driver's seat of the car and watched the flames as they slowly died to coals, only then did he feel okay about leaving. There was no wind and the rain had picked up again. As Dean slowly pulled away he made sure he added the town of Scranton on his list of places he never wanted to see again.
Once Dean regained town he was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. He had no money, nothing left on the fake credit card in his name, and he had to get Sammy care. He pulled over on a side street and pulled out his phone, checking his contacts hoping there was somewhere he could take his brother. As Dean scrolled through the list he saw Bobby's name come up. Not knowing what else to do Dean pushed send, maybe Bobby knew someone in the area.
888
The conversation with Bobby had been better than he expected. Not only did Bobby sound genuinely happy to hear from Dean, but, he had also been able to direct Dean to help. Help in the form of a town named Haycock about two hours from Scranton. Bobby had given Dean the address, told him how to find it and told him to head there immediately. Dean started driving south before Bobby had even finished telling him where to go.
Two hours later, Dean was nearing the end of his rope. The thought of what would happen to Sam was the only thing keeping him going. Dean had awoken Sam a couple of times throughout the trip, and each time Sam had asked for water. Dean cursed at himself for the tenth time when he had to tell Sam that he didn't have any. He had searched the Impala yesterday for any spare change, needing it to buy more salt. There just wasn't anything left.
As Dean drove through the wooded area he noticed that the sun was beginning to rise. Dean felt a measure of peace when he saw the rising sun. No matter what happened next, at least he knew that they'd made it through another day.
He slowed as he saw the address coming up on his left. Bobby wasn't kidding when he said this town was secluded. All Dean had seen so far were trees and more trees. As he pulled down the tree lined drive he saw the property open up in front of him. In the ever brightening sunlight he noticed a large two story house with a wraparound porch. A large barn stood behind the house.
Bobby had told him to pull straight into the house garage and go inside. As Dean moved to do that, he noticed the garage was a three car garage. In the in the other two bays sat a red minivan and a jeep. As Dean shut down the engine, he looked toward Sam. No matter what Bobby said, he wasn't about to haul Sam into this strange house without checking it out first.
"Sammy, come on man wake up." Dean said, as he gently shook Sam's shoulder. Sam started to rouse, immediately asking for water, Dean grimaced. "I'm going to get you some, bud. But you have to stay here and stay awake. Here take the gun." Dean said, as he pushed Sam's gun into his hand.
"Dean, where are we? Why do I need a gun?" Sam asked, confusion on his face.
"I found us a place to stay, dude, but I need to check it out first." Dean started to get out of the car.
Sam sat up slightly and said, "Dean, man you know how I feel about squatting on someone's property. We just can't break into someone's home and set up house."
Dean turned slightly and grinned in the dark. "Sam have a little faith in your big brother." With another quick grin Dean moved forward to the door, gun in hand.
As he quietly pushed open the door, he moved forward into a small hall. He could see openings to the front and right, he choose to go straight first. As he moved passed the door on the right he heard the voice.
"Well, you gotta be Dean, Bobby said if you didn't enter the house holding a gun, I was to shoot first and ask questions later."
Dean heard a woman's throaty voice say. Dean looked right and saw a woman standing with a shotgun pointed straight at him. In the early morning light he could see that she was taller than average. Slim and pretty, her hair was pulled back and she wore a set of dark frame glasses. She held the gun steady and with confidence. Dean quickly realized she knew what she was doing.
As he turned toward the woman, she put the gun on the table behind her, held up both hands and said, "You're safe now." At that Dean lowered his gun to his side and passed out cold.