Title: Invisible line

Chapter 4

Author's notes: Changed the rating of this story to T due to the verbal and physical violence (man... this fic turned out way bloodier than expected^^) Btw. I didn't particularly care for the way they resolved the whole Cole-storyline on the show. So promising and yet so anticlimatic. So for all of you who wanted more, enjoy the rest of this story (my version of Cole is a little less forgive-and-forget with Dean than the one in the show) :P


Dean watches in abject horror as Sam's broken body slumps like a puppet with its strings cut off. Crimson spreads on the shirt beneath Sam's left collar bone like an exotic flower and Dean's heart lurches painfully in his chest.

"Sammy!" he screams, writhing furiously in his bonds, voice catching on his brother's name but Sam isn't reacting, isn't moving, isn't showing any signs of awareness and from the distance Dean can't tell if he's even still alive.

He only knows that his brother must have passed out from pain and that he has definitely lost too much blood.

Sam needs help. And he needs it right now.

"SAM!" Dean roars, jerking viciously on his cuffs and ignoring the sharp pain that shoots through his arms when he jostles the torn flesh on his wrists.

Hot tears are streaming down his face, painting clear tracks on blood-crusted skin. His heart is racing and he wants nothing more than to break free and cross the distance between them, to cradle Sam's face and look him over and make sure he's alright.

But that's not going to happen. Cole has made sure of that.

"I think Sammy's left the building," Cole says and harshly strikes the unconscious hunter across the face to prove his point.

"Leave him alone, you fucking bastard!" Dean lunges forward with a vicious snarl, but Cole doesn't seem intimidated by the threat.

"Looks like it's just the two of us now, Dean," he grins seemingly satisfied with the way Sam's head is hanging lifelessly from his shoulders, completely unresponsive to the brutal waking attempt.

Dean forces his raging heart to slow down and tries to breathe through the burning fury that grows in his chest like an all-consuming black hole.

He clenches his jaw, eyes burning through Cole's like liquid fire. "No matter what else happens tonight-" he forces out past clenched teeth. "You are going to die a slow and painful death. And I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

"You won't be killing anybody ever again," Cole says, standing up to leave Sam's broken body slumped against his pillar, soggy curtain of hair obscuring his battered face. "Not after I'm through with you."

Dean's gaze flickers to the silver knife that is left lying in a small puddle of blood merely two feet away from his unconscious brother, before resettling on his approaching opponent.

If Sam could somehow regain consciousness, then Dean would only need to distract Cole long enough for his brother to cut through the rope that was tied around his wrists and ankles.

But then what? Even if Sammy somehow managed to gather enough energy to pull that off despite his current state and the extent of his injuries, he would never be able to fight against Cole and come out on top... No, Dean needs to think of something else. Think, Dean. Think, goddamnit!

"So tell me," Cole says, squaring his shoulders as his mud green eyes bore daringly into his own. "What is it like to watch a beloved family member getting tortured and killed right before your eyes?"

Dean swallows, holding Cole's gaze contemptuously. Because he knows exactly what it feels like to have the most important person of your life die in your arms, can still remember what it felt like to hold Sam's pliant body close as warm blood seeped from between his fingers, can still remember - with startling clarity -what Sam's ragged breathing had sounded like before it stuttered to a sudden halt in his chest and how the earth-shattering silence that followed had broken Dean's heart into a million pieces.

Cold Oak should be nothing but a distant memory after so many years, but to the day Dean still sometimes wakes in a cold sweat, confused and panicked, the phantom-feeling of icy mud on his jeans and sticky warm blood coating his fingers, his brother's name tumbling past shaking lips.

Things like that never fully go away. No amount of time can ever cleanse your soul from such horrors.

Dean's eyes are glistening with unshed tears at the onslaught of unwanted memories attacking his mind.

He tries to not let it show, but the mere thought of losing Sam again- the mere possibility of his brother dying terrifies him beyond words.

"Don't tell me I smacked the smartass right out of you, Dean…" Cole teases, a lopsided smile spreading on his lips. "How does it feel to see him like this, huh? How does it feel to know that your kid brother will die and that there's nothing you can do to prevent it from happening?"

Dean's expression turns from sad and terrified to murderous in a second flat. All his pent up anger quells up in his chest and spills from his lips in a sudden rush.

"Why don't you tell me, you son of a bitch?!" he snaps, bloodied spittle flying from his mouth. His throat is burning, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Must have been hard to walk in on me slaughtering daddy dearest in the living room... Guess something like that can turn you into a psychopath."

Infuriated by the words, Cole pulls his .45 from his waistband and strikes Dean across the face with the butt of his gun. The force of the blow sends Dean's world spinning and he reels backwards, blood gushing from his nose.

Groaning in pain,he fights to keep his bleary gaze focused, even as dark dots start to dance at the edge of his vision.

The clicking sound of a gun's safety doesn't even register with Dean until the weapon is nestled against the center of his forehead.

"Why did you do it, you fucking asshole?!" Cole snarls dangerously, pressing the cool steel muzzle forcefully into Dean's skin. "Was it some kind of demon-ritual?! A blood sacrifice? Some twisted black magic thing?! Tell me or I'll blow your freaking brains out, I swear to god-"

Dean locks his jaw, taking a deep breath to calm his frantic heart.

His anger will get him nothing but a bullet between the eyes. He needs to calm the fuck down and switch tactics.

"Listen," he starts, swallowing past the blood in his mouth and meeting Cole's murderous glare. "I'm gonna tell you whatever you want to know, but you gotta let my brother go, okay?" Dean says, knowing his knowledge about what happened to Cole's father was the only bargaining chip he had left.

"You're... you're not a killer, Cole. My brother's got nothing to do with what happened back then and... and he's going to die if you don't get him any help. Look- I don't care what you do to me. I'm already long past saving, but Sammy? He's innocent, alright? He doesn't even know who you are. Do you really wanna live with his blood on your hands?"

Cole's face remains stoic throughout Dean's speech, completely unaffected by Dean's desperate attempt to bargain for his brother's life. Apparently he isn't in the mood to negotiate.

"Why did you do it, Dean? Tell me why you killed my father or so fucking help me-"

"Because he was a monster, alright?!"

"A monster…" Cole trails off incredulously, eyes narrowed angrily as he stares Dean down, trembling fingers tightening on the trigger of his glock.

Dean's features twist into a broken grimace, eyes wandering off to his brother's lifeless form across the room. His heart is aching to hear Sam's voice one last time before Cole pulls that trigger. Just one more time. To say goodbye.

With a heavy soul, Dean forces himself to look back at Cole.

"What Sam told you? About werewolves and vampires and all that other crap? Well, it's true. We call ourselves hunters because we track down everything that goes bump in the night and kill it. Your father was fair hunt, he had already killed 3 girls in the neighborhood and he was looking for his next prey when I got there… I was just in time to stop him before he could attack your mom or you in his killing spree..."

Cole snorts. "And I'm supposed to believe this shit?"

"Believe it or not, but I'm telling the truth."

"So you are honestly trying to tell me that my father- the guy who raised me for 14 years and played hockey with me in the backyard was actually some- some creature preying for my death- But, what? Me and my mom failed to fucking notice?!"

"I think our judgment is clouded when it comes to family," Dean admits openly. "I think it's hard to accept that the people we love most could ever do anything to harm us. But just because we don't want to believe it, doesn't mean it's not true."

Cole's body is trembling just as much as his own, sweaty hair strands clinging to his forehead, eyes glistening with tears of pent-up emotion. The guy is a wreck.

Years of being on a vengeful path of destruction having obviously left their marks on his soul and body.

And Dean can't deny that Cole might have been right with his earlier presumption- that they might have more in common than he'd ever like to admit.

"I… I was just a freaking kid… and you- you came into our home and-" Cole breaks off, unable to finish the sentence, features twisted into a painful grimace and tears spilling from his brimming eyes. "And now you fucking stand here and… and tell me-"

"I'm sorry," Dean whispers, because what else is there to say? What else can you say to justify the murder of a beloved one? Dean knows that words will never be good enough.

"You're sorry…" Cole repeats in a twisted mixture of a sob and a laugh. He throws his head back, blue veins popping along the line of his throat. "You're sorry!" he exclaims, voice getting louder and eyes taking on a lunatic glimmer.

Dean stiffens at the change in tone, heart hammering frantically in his chest. This couldn't be good.

"You're FUCKING SORRY?!" Cole bursts out, face turning red as the air leaves his body in one whoosh. "Oh you'll be sorry, alright…"

The steel pressure disappears from Dean's forehead so quick, he can barely catch up with the sudden movement. "You want to tell me about monsters, you demonic creep?! I will send your corrupted soul back to hell where it came from."

Holding up his palm and spreading his fingers, Cole takes a broad-shouldered stance in front of Dean and stows his gun away before pulling a small leather-bound booklet from his jacket. Dean doesn't even have to see the small rosary that dangles from Cole's meaty fingers to know what the man is clutching in his hands.

Freaking amateur.

"This is not gonna work, alright?" he fruitlessly tries to intervene, sending another frantic look at his unmoving brother. They don't have time for this! Sammy's chances of surviving are diminishing with each second they waste and this guy wants to freaking exorcise him?!

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spriti-"

"-us." Dean interrupts, face growing annoyed when Cole makes his first mistake. Judging from the way he fumbles with the words, the guy has probably never had a single Latin class in his life. "It's spiritus, not spiriti. Singular. Look, why don't you save us both the trouble and stop right there?"

If anything, Cole seems even more determined by Dean's correction.

"Exorziamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-" he starts again.

Dean balls his fingers into fists and clenches his teeth in frustration.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnes in crucio-"

"Incursio." Dean snaps, rattling his cuffs just for the sake of it. "Man I hate to say this, but your Latin is even worse than mine."

Cole's fingers are shaking now, eyes wide and insecure.

He hurries through the rest of the exorcism and grows increasingly desperate when nothing happens.

"Why isn't this working?!" he finally demands, frustration and panic written all over his face. "Why aren't you reacting to this?!"

"You mean apart from the fact that you suck at exorcisms?" Dean mocks, eyesbrows wandering up to his hairline. "Well, maybe it's because I'm no longer a demon…"

"But I- I saw your eyes! They were BLACK. I saw you fight- and it wasn't- you weren't human," Cole argues, clearly confused.

Dean sighs once more, head pounding and whole body aching.

He feels utterly exhausted, but the fear for his brother supplies him with enough adrenaline to keep him on the edge of a breakdown.

"I am now."

Cole drops the leather-bound book to the ground, wooden rosary scattering across the cement before pulling his gun from his waistband once more and taking his aim. The resolution on his face is undeniable.

This time he means it.

Once more, Dean's eyes seek out his brother, looking for a way to somehow communicate with him (one last time) when he suddenly notices the slight difference in Sam's posture- the merest hint of tension in his brother's shoulders, from where he's still slumped against the pillar.

Dean blinks; not trusting his own vision enough to believe what he's seeing. But there's something in the way Sam's chest is rising and falling erratically that confirms his suspition.

His brother has regained consciousness.

Sam is awake.

Heart leaping in his chest, Dean feels his hunter instincts kick in and forces his gaze to resettle on his opponent, not wanting to give his brother away.

Time for a distraction.

"Face it, Cole. I'm a full blooded human again. And I'm telling you; whatever the hell it is that you are trying to do? It's not going to work."

"What about this?" Cole asks, voice shaking so hard the words are barely distinguishable as he nods towards the gun in his hands. "This going to work?"

As far as Dean can tell, he is completely oblivious to Sam's awakening.

Dean tracks the gun's barrel with his eyes, wishing with all his heart that Sammy won't be forced to watch his execution. Because yes, taking a bullet from that distance is most certainly going to get the job done.

"Pretty sure… yeah," he swallows. "But I'll give you a fair warning. When I come back- and I will come back, I'm gonna make you wish you took that gun to your own head."

There is a thick silence between them, suffocating and oppressive.

And the only thing Dean can think about is the fact that whatever Sam's planning to do- he better do it quick, or he will have to scrape Dean's brain off the wall.

He and Cole look at each other. The tension between them snaps like a rubber band and Dean knows that it's over.

He is going to die.

"Go to hell," Cole spits out, cocking the hammer of his gun back and pulling the trigger.

A deafening shot rings out, echoing through the warehouse and Dean can almost feel the phantom kiss of death where a bullet almost would have pierced his heart.

It takes him a second to realize that he is not dead- is not even hit, before his brain catches up with what's going on around him.

Cole's still standing a few meters away, gun in his hand, but something is off with his expression, eyes torn wide and bulging out of their sockets.

He opens his mouth, weapon slipping from his grasp and then raises a trembling hand to his lips.

Blood, Dean realizes with absurd clarity.

Cole's choking on his own blood.

But why? How?

Shouldn't Dean be the one bleeding? Hadn't he been the one almost dying just a second ago?

Cole stumbles backwards, uncoordinated and weak; face paling as his knees give away beneath the bulky mass of his body.

And there behind Cole- barely able to hold himself up from the floor, is Sam, eyes shaded with darkness and fingers clutched around the hilt of Dean's silver knife where it is buried in Cole's back.

"You... first," Sam utters raggedly, breath scraping on worn-out lungs. "And... close the door... on your way down."

TBC...


Okay well first of all, WOW. Just wow. I am completely blown away by the amount of feedback I got for this fic and I just want to thank you ALL so much for the lovely words and favs and follows... You rock! As for this chapter- As much as I like Castiel as a character in the show, I have to admit that I was never really a big fan of him coming to the boys' rescue. Let's just say Sam is way tougher than he looks, alright? It will take more than a messed up shoulder and gimp leg to take him out... ;P Especially when his brother needs him to save the day. However, the boys are running on nothing but fumes at this point... I wonder what happens when the adrenaline wears off?
Next chapter will deal with the big fallout. (you didn't really think I'd go this easy on Cole, right? Dean still needs to make true on his promise...) Please tell me what you thought! Reviews are as always extremely appreciated!