Bela pulled out her gun, letting the weight settle in her hands. She pressed her body against the hotel room door. She knew this was the Winchester's room and she was ready to scare the living hell out of them both before offering to give them the chance of a lifetime. The nearby Native American cemetery held rare and powerful artifacts that she wanted. The boys would only know about the ghosts that resided there though - haunting those who came to visit the graves of loved ones. The Winchesters wouldn't be able to resist a goody-two-shoes mission when it was staring down the barrel of a gun at them with a grin and a British accent.
She released one hand from the gun grip and silently circled it around the doorknob. Her heart began to race as she prepared to pounce. The Huntress swung the door open wide, her gun aimed and that is when she saw Dean.
Sam was on his feet before she had a chance to react, his coal black eyes telling the woman all that she needed to know. Dean was leaning against the wall, his face pale and drawn. The haunted look in his eyes was glimpsed for a single moment before Bela refused to let herself see anything but the demon standing at the foot of the bed. She had to destroy it before it had a chance to kill her, Bela wasn't ready to give in yet. She still had years left to live.
Her gun fired seemingly by itself and the woman found herself skillfully evading the force of Sam's outstretched hand instinctively. She ducked, rolled forward into the room and came up shooting, her gun aimed at the heart.
"Sam! No!" Dean's voice was raw. "Don't shoot him! Stop!"
His yells were drown out by gunfire before a deafening click betrayed a sudden lack of ammunition. Bela's icy gaze drilled through Sam as if willing more bullet holes to form in the ripped, blood soaked shirt. Sam grinned, his face twisting into a mask of complete amusement.
"Hahaha." The laugh was too dull to be faked. "Here I thought you were smarter than these two oafs." The demon spoke sweetly with Sam's voice. "Now I'm disappointed." He cocked his head to one side. "Do you know what I do with disappointments?"
"Drown in them?" Bela suggested with an upraised eyebrow, her bravado the only weapon left.
"Of course not." A real chuckle rumbled in the man's chest. "I stamp them out of existence."
"Not - Doing a very good job there - are you?" Dean spoke up through gasps as he tried to push past the invisible barrier keeping him against the wall. It gave way an inch and hope surged through the Hunter's veins.
Sam glared at him, midnight eyes doing all the talking. A vise-like grip started around Dean's throat.
___
"No!"
Sam watched this all through his bodies eyes, but felt none of the sensations. He was cut off from any kind of physical control of the body he had been born to. The Hunter in him wanted to search for weapons, use his mind to fight, anything to save his brother's life. The intellectual in him knew better. John Winchester had fought past a demon's control, but he had experienced a life-time that Sam had not. Whatever had given his father the strength to fight against the Yellow Eyed Demon was not harbored within Sam's heart. At least, that is what he told himself after numerous attempts to escape his mental bondage.
The cell of his mind was impenetrable.
_____
"If you do not leave that body right now I will have to force you out." Bela's voice trembled as the last word passed over her lips.
The fingers of her right hand curled towards her wrist where she kept a hidden pouch in the lining of her coat sleeve. She moved slowly, keeping her entire being focused on Sam so that he would not suspect. The woman felt the familiar, soft material in her hand and then she threw it straight at Sam's chest. There was no way to miss at that short a distance.
A brilliant white light filled the room and when it receded Sam was on the ground, unconscious. Dean felt his body suddenly grow lighter and he slumped forward, crawling on his hands and knees to his brother's side.
"Sam! Sam, Sam." He shook the limp form. "Help me get him on the bed."
___
Bela took one of Sam's arms while Dean took the other and together they maneuvered the tall Hunter onto the bed. It did not take more than studious glance around the room for the Huntress to figure out what had taken place. She decidedly ignored the Dean's unzipped pants and open shirt. He had enough things to deal with and she felt a kind of protectiveness fall over her in a cloud as she gazed at his intense green eyes.
Dean Winchester was checking his brother to make sure that he was still breathing. The bullet holes were all gone, but the rips in the shirt and the bloodstains remained. Dean ran a hand through his short cropped blond hair, biting his lip as he tried to focus on the present and forget that the last day ever happened.
But there would be no forgetting because his brother would also hold that memory. Forever.
Dean did not feel the tear that Bela watched slip down his cheek to bead hesitantly on his chin before splashing against Sam's pale skin.
