Dean did survive the night. And the following day. But it didn't look good for him. When I checked the wound it was angry red and hot and smelled of infection.

During all that Dean lay there, back propped up against a tree, and was more out than actually there. One time when he was awake he smirked at me.

"Sorry for crashing your hopes of blowing this joint." He grimaced in pain and his breathing was harsh. He knew his chances weren't good.

"Your not dead, brother." I used that word to reanimate his anger, his will to survive but he just shook his head and added: "Yet." I had nothing to say to that and we fell quiet for a while. The next time I looked at him his eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed with fever but beneath that he was waxy pale.

Even before I'd become a vampire I had no business with treating wounds and after I got turned it was more about inflicting wounds than healing them. I was kind of at a loss there.

It was late in the day, night couldn't be far away, when I build a small fire. Making a fire in Purgatory usually was a bad idea. The predators, and everything there was a predator, didn't fear fire. Quite the contrary, it was a beacon for them, a blinking billboard leading them to the feast.

I needed this to be done before nightfall. Thanks to the matches I'd found in Dean's pocket, he didn't even stir when I searched him which wasn't a good sign at all, I had a small fire burning quickly.

Then I took the knife Dean was carrying. It looked old. Smooth buckhorn handle, sharp blade covered with markings I'd never seen before. I doubted this was an ordinary knife, carried by a hunter it probably was a very special knife, but I had nothing else for the dirty work.

While the blade slowly turned red-hot in the fire I loosened the bandage and washed dirt and blood off Dean with water from the creek we were resting at. I would have liked to boil the water first but I had nothing to hold it so this had to do.

"Doesn't look good, brother." I murmured but Dean didn't hear me. Good. Better for him to not be conscious for what I was about to do.

I rolled Dean to the side so that I had access to the wound. Sitting on his hip and holding his shoulder down with my left hand I made sure to secure him just in case. Then I reached for the red-hot knife.

The flesh sizzled like bacon in a frying pan and it smelled just like that. Of course Dean didn't stay unconscious. He bucked beneath me and nearly threw me off. He screamed.

"It's okay." I tried to reassure him. "Over in a second. It's okay."

I had to do it right the first time so I readjusted my hold on him and tried to blend out his agonized screams.

It only took seconds to burn out the wound but it felt like an eternity. Finally I threw the knife to the side and released my hold on the human. He curled into himself and the screams turned into hoarse words and that was worse.

"Please." Dean whispered between broken cries. "No more, please, Alastair, please, no."

"It's over." I laid my hand on his shoulder and I felt him trembling, from the pain or the fever or something else entirely I couldn't tell. As gently as possible I bandaged the wound. When I was done he had lost consciousness again and I let him rest. Nothing else I could do.

I put out the fire and cleaned the knife and then I sat next to Dean while around us night fell. With the night came the hungry things. I caught glimpses of red eyes and movements behind the trees. If the fire had lured them to us or Dean's screaming didn't matter. All night I stayed alert, ready to defend myself and the unconscious human at my side but the attack never came. They backed off at dawn but they didn't go far. I still heard them, circling us, waiting. I never really saw one of them but I pegged them as little predators or scavengers who waited for me to show any weakness or to abandon the human. The latter was something I had thought about during the dark hours of the night.

He's going to die anyway, I told myself. Fresh, human blood, take it before it turns to poison. Drain him and then leave the leftovers for the scavengers.

They would have been busy with the corpse and not bothering with me, I knew that. It didn't help that Dean stayed deathly still most of the night. Once or twice I had been sure he was dead but then I caught on his heart again which stubbornly kept beating.

I closed my eyes for a second and made a decision. Dean's chance to survive was slim but he wouldn't die by my hands. Or teeth or whatever.

In the morning Dean was burning up and I cooled his face with a wet cloth. When he was conscious enough for it I fed him water from my cupped hand.

"Tough fellow, aren't you?" I wiped his face which seemed to help him a bit. "Gotta get the fever down or I'll have to dump you in the creek to cool you down." I threatened but he didn't response.

His eyes moved under closed lids, more likely in delirium than dreaming, I guessed, and his lips formed soundless words. I couldn't make out actual words, however, one he repeated often enough to read it from his lips: Sammy. I didn't know who that was but whoever he was he was important to Dean.

"Hang in there." I told him over and over again. "Hang in there for Sammy." I was desperate enough to grasp at every straw I could get.

His fever didn't break and around noon I dumped him in the creek. The water wasn't warm to begin with, to him it had to feel like ice water. Thrashing and screaming he tried to escape but he was too weak.

"It's okay." I pinned his arms to his body and hold him still. "Just a few minutes. Just a little bit longer."

He screamed for Sammy to help him and begged someone named Alastair to stop and I hold him close and whispered in his ear that everything would be okay. I felt like the biggest liar on Earth. Or in Purgatory.

By the time I got us out of the creek he was out again and we both were soaked to the bone but he felt cooler to the touch and I hoped the fever had finally broken.

The third night since Dean had been injured awaited us. I had been awake and on alert way too long, I was exhausted and freezing and I had to fight to keep my eyes open. The critters were back, closer now. They circled us, all red eyes and whispered movements in the dark.

At some point my eyes fell shut and I just couldn't bring up the energy to open them again. Guess it didn't take them long to figure out we were easy prey.