Chapter 3
Sam stared, worriedly, down at his brother's, violently, shivering form. He felt so helpless, Dean had needed water, he had been unable to give him any. Now he was freezing, and Sam was unable to give him all the warmth he, so desperately, needed.
Though, he could do this…
Sam, quickly, shrugged out of his, cotton, tee, and covered Dean's, sleeping, form with the last piece of warmth he could provide.
'At least, I can give him that,' he thought. Sam knew if they didn't get to civilization fast enough, Dean would die either from the cold and heat, or his weakening body.
It'll shut down and his heart will stop.
Sam shook his head to clear that thought from within it.
'No,' he choked, to himself.
'No, I'll get him back to safety, I promised.'
Then he remembered his last promise.
With Dean's deal and the hellhounds. Sam swore to Dean that he would save him.
That he would never let him set foot in Hell.
Look how that turned out.
Dean a trip downstairs, and all Sam did, as an effort to save him, was stand by and watch. Watch as he was torn to pieces by the hellhounds.
'Lets just hope it's different this time.'
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Dean lay, freezing, beneath the desert stars. Shivering, fiercely, so hard that he was beginning to exhaust from the effort. Though he knew he shouldn't, he was starting to long for that point in hypothermia when numbness folds over you with warmth close to follow. That illusion is so much better then this reality. But all he could do was yearn for that relief.
Unconsciousness was rapidly misting his mind. Threatening him over the edge, and he couldn't help but close his eyes and drift into a dreamless slumber.
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Dean leaned against the burning, grey, rock, not really caring about the sting.
"Dean, I'm sorry, but we have to get going…" And with one, weak, glance into Sam's, hazel, eyes, he saw his younger brother's heart break, at having to admit this to him.
Dean opened his mouth to say 'Okay,' but it came out more as a shrilled whimper. Sam squinted his eyes, in what must have been painful, and Dean saw his shoulders quiver, in what should have been a sob, but his drained strength could only manage a, cracked, "I'm so sorry."
And Dean knew they had to keep going. Keep following the trail, hoping, and praying, that one of the few people who drive the trails would cross it now.
If they'd to have any chance of survival they would need to move.
Staying put would be vain, for there was no one left to miss them.
Taking Sam's, extended, hand, he pulled himself to his feet, swaying at the blurriness that met him.
Squinting up at Sam's, concern and sympathy, filled visage, and nodded. Then, they took off in tiny, meager steps, limping his way through the desert.
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'How are we going to get out of this one, brother?' Dean asked Sam, inwardly.
After about of slow, aching travel. He had been starting to ask himself this question when darkness began to cloud his vision, and he decided that he probably wouldn't be able to answer it. Dean didn't know how Sam would be able to answer either, but, somehow, he knew he could.
Then with that thought, as a finality, he fell into the, quickly falling, night.
Author's note:
I'm sorry I haven't been updating a lot lately, but I have like piled on a whole bunch of different fanfics, and I know regret putting so much up at once. But, I am managing, and I really enjoy writing this story.
I hope you love to read it as much as I love to write it. :]
Reviews much loved.
