A/N: I know this is a little shorter than the others, but it was just such a perfect place to end it. Yes, I am that evil. And cruel. And you may threaten me with whatever you choose in your reviews for doing this to you (and to Sam and Dean), as long as you review. But, I'm not sadistic enough to leave it like this for long. As long as the EMS world cooperates and people let me know they're interested, new chapter tomorrow:)
Sam bit down on his lip hard enough that he tasted blood in his mouth to avoid crying out as the white-hot pain slammed into his head. He knew how badly Dean's screaming had hurt him and was determined to spare him. The demon's presence tore through his consciousness, pressure building inside his skull until he was certain it would crack under the pressure. As bad as the pain had been before, it was doubled as the demon's desperation fueld it's search. And Sam was pretty sure it was taking out some of it's anger on him in the process. He could feel it tearing through his memories, his thoughts, everything before colliding with the barrier. His body rocked with the force of the blow as it tried to break through.
Clenching his teeth against the building cry, he was able to keep back all but a pitiful whimper as it slammed into the barrier again. The demon let out a groan from the strain, and Sam felt something dripping as his nose started to bleed. Forcing his eyes open, he was confronted with the look of simple, stark terror on Dean's face. Did he look that bad?
Dean was screaming again, pleading with the demon, and that scared Sam more than anything. Dean didn't plead. He cursed, he threatened, he fought. There had never been a situation where those reactions didn't work. More blood poured from his nose, a torrent of it now. This was about to end, one way or another. Either the creature would find it and kill them, or his brain would rupture and he would die. He hoped if that happened, Dean would die quickly. There was no hope that their captor would simply set him free, he just hoped that it wouldn't take it's rage out on his brother. But there was nothing he could do about it now.
The world around him had taken on a dream-like state, and had grown fuzzy. He wasn't sure if he was losing consciousness or if the it was because the demon was messing with his brain. Was this what it meant by brain damage? Was he just going to fall into a fog and that be the end? Considering all they had seen, there were worse ways to go. But leaving Dean like that, alone with no way out... He had to hold on just a little longer. He tried to focus on something, anything, and lacking anything else to keep his focus he met his brother's tear-filled green eyes. The look on Dean's face was enough to clear the fog. Dean was scared. Dean didn't have some crazy rescue plan he was waiting for the right moment to implement. Dean thought they were going to die.
The pickaxe that was repeatedly driven into his brain was making it hard to hang on to clarity, but he forced himself to, only closing his eyes for a second to try to manage the pain. Seeing Sam was finally able focus, Dean spoke softly. "Are you okay? Is that thing still..." He nodded vaguely toSam's head. "In there?"
"Yeah," Sam said, cringing at a particularly harsh wave of pain. "Still there."
Dean didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but the his masochistic side left him with no choice. "Is it bad?"
Sam didn't want to answer, but not doing so would do even more damage. "Bad enough. Listen, Dean..." He wasn't sure how to say what needed to be said.
"Sammy, don't! Fight this thing!"
"I am fighting!" He exclaimed. "But this isn't going to end well, you know that!" The pain overwhelmed him and he had to stop for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as the fire ripped through his brain. This made his vision-headaches feel like a scalp massage. Finally, he was able to continue. "I want you to know-"
Dean wasn't about to let him say it. If he let him say it, Sam might think he had permission to give up, and he most certainly didn't. If he let him have an emotional moment, let him say how he felt, let him say that forbidden word -goodbye- then he might let go. He might accept his death, and Dean couldn't do that. "No, Sammy! You're not giving up and you're not having some chick-flick moment because YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE! I'm your big brother and you are not allowed to die!"
Sam forced smile. "I love you, Dean. And I-"
Again, he was interrupted, but not by Dean. The pain suddenly vanished from his head and they heard an angry growl from beside him as the demon pulled it's hand away. A small trickle of blood leaked out of Sam's ear, tickling a little. His eyes suddenly widened. The bleeding from his nose had slowed some, but was still going. He gasped, then went limp in his bonds, eyes rolling back in his head, saliva frothing at his mouth.
