disclaimer- i own nothing.
Thanks for all the reviews.
Sorry in advance if this chapter is a little confusing.
To answer a question John died at the end of in my time of dying. He traded his life for Deans (who was about to die) with the YED. Hope that helps!:)
Chapter 7
Ron narrowed his eyes. "Brave words, little Winchester," he murmured.
Sams heart was pounding. He could hear the sound echoing in his ears. It was deafening. He held the knife steady. HIs hand did not even shake a littleHe did not
break eye contact. A moment passed as the men watched one another. Each assessed their own chances with the other. Finally Ron gave a brief nod. A few
strands of his hair fell across his face. Ron brushed it away impatiently.
"Sammy Winchester, there is so much blood on your hands. Your brothers," he paused for emphasis," for example. Are you really going to add your own. Are you
willing to go that far?"
"Yes," answered Sam without the slightest hesitation. He tried not to react to the demons taunting. He forced himself to focus. It was hard. The demons words had
stung. In one sentence, the demon had summed up all the dark little thoughts that had been haunting him since the night on the highway. All the horrible thoughts,
that had been swirling around his head, about how he was the weak link that jepordised his families
safety. How he was responsible for their current situation. And how he had failed as a brother and a son.
Rons eyes flashed angrily. Sam gave a small sarcastic smile.
"Did your dad teach you this little boy?," Ron accused angrily. He spoke in a low growl. "you should grow up. Dramatics do not belong in the real world."
Sams smile grew by a few teeth. "Grew up? He felt as though he had aged at least ten years in the past hour at least."
His shoulders shook as he laughed humuorlessly at the irony of the statement. "Do you think I am joking? I am my fathers son. The guy that's been hunting you
and yours for 20 years. He is damn good at it too.I grew up with the guy." Ron raised an eyebrow, inquisitively. He wondered what Sams point was.
"I do not joke," Sam finished seriously. Sam drew the knife a little way across his neck. The cut was not deep. It had not even hurt. He had experienced far worse.
Hell, he had inflicted far worse. But, it drew a little blood. Sam felt the wetness at the side of his neck. Ron watched the knife with the droplets of blood pooling on
the blade. His gaze shifted back to Sams face. Sam noted the difference in the demons demeanour.
He seemed a lot less sure of himself. He sight of the blood seemed to knock a little confindence out of the demon. Sams smiled.
"You did not think I would do that you bastard, did you?" he thought viciously.
"A little blood changes nothing," snarled Ron taking a step forward.
"I saw what happened to another of your little proteges. Max? Remember him? You paid him a little visit like you did me." Ron smiled. Sam rolled his eyes in
disguist.
"You make my skin crawl. Anyway, about Max, I refuse to end up like him. I am not a murderer. I am good. That is what my dad taught me. I will end it before I
kill anyone."
Ron nodded. He noted the finality in Sams tone. In his mind, there was no doubt that- if given the chance- he would do it. And, in a strangely human way, he could
understand. Live alone or die a hero?
He wondered if he could get to the boy before the knife sliced his throat open. He knew immediately that his chances were slim. The Winchesters, all three
together, had gained a formdible reputation. They had made a lot of enemies. One brother, trained as a hunter when he barely out of nappies, by a man whose
wife he had murdered. Would he be able to be quicker than young Sammy? Not likely.
His gaze flickered to the immobile Dean on the floor. The older man, whose smart mouth had really pissed him off earlier, moaned dully. Could he really afford to
bring him back into play? Would he pose much of a threat to him, Could he forgive the loss of his kids? "Ron" wondered. Sammy here, held so much potential for
him. He had literally fantascised about the lengths he could reach with the younger Winchester. With his help, he reckoned he could bring a new hell of earth. He
had figured this goal would entail hunting the famed family and picking them off one by one. However, thanks to one semi, here was Sammy offering himself
up on a platter. It was too good an offer to refuse. He looked at Dean, who was looking more like the spirit he was by every passing second, who shook slightly.
Ron shook his head in disguist at the sight. It was pathetic really. The trade really did not compare for him. It was a no-brainer. Give him a pen and he sign on the
dotted line.
"What do you want me to do exactly?" he asked Sam slowly.
XxXxXxxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXX
The pain came in waves. It got stronger every second. It was worse than Dean had ever experienced. When his dad, who was possessed, had ripped into his chest
came in at a close second. Pain burned across his chest. The breath was knocked out of him with every sensation. Dean struggled to see what was happening with
his little brother. The voices around him sounded far off. His vision was blurred with the tears in his
eyes. Dean vaguely saw the knife. He recognised it as one of hbis own. He knew how deadly it was. Don't! he wanted to scream at Sam.
A new wave of pain blossomed in his chest. With it he felt his world rip in two. In the first, he was kneeling on the floor trying to help his brother. In the second, he
was on his back staring at ceiling tiles. He could also see three faces, all wearing equally anxious expressions. As the pain intensified, the second world became
more clearer. The two faces were that of the doctor and a nurse.
"Still nothing," spat the doc, looking at the nurse and down at Dean
"Nothing what?" he wondered vaguely. A steady beep echoed around the room. Dean took a second to realise that it was the sound of a heart machine that was
flatlining. It took him another second to connect the anxious looks of the docs, the pain in his chest and the heart monitor. IT WAS HIM. He was dying! They were
trying to restart his heart. Ignoring the fact that his father had given up on him, he wondered were his fricking tunnel was. He huffed, "figures. I do not even get
normal when I am dead."
Sams voice floated over the noise of the heart machine. "I will end it before I kill anyone."
HIs voice sounded so confident and steady, it shocked Dean. Time to play big brother, not Casper! he reproached himself. Dean fought towards his weaking grip
on the room Sam was in.
Come on, he urged himself, When you see a light then you can get worried. Dean fought against the pain.
"No," muttered Dean weakly. Ron smiled at his attempt to fight. Take it like a man, he wanted to taunt, know when you are beaten. However he kept quiet.
"Do we have a deal?" Rons head snapped up at Sams demand.
"By which, do you mean will I save your brother and heal him in return for yours? Then yes."
The demons eyes almost glowed in the darkness.
"How long will it take?" Sam still held the knife to his throat.
"ARe you scared?" Sam stayed silent. "Do not worry young hunter. Think of it like this. You gave your brother a second chance at life which he was not supposed
to have. I heard the story about the so-called faith healer you found for your dying brother. Sammy, you took your brother back from the brink. You saved a lot of
people that were not meant to be saved. Just think of it like that. Think of the lives you will be saving."
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Sam.
"Dunno," Ron replied carelessly, "Good mood?"
Dean could feel his grip on the scene slipping as the pain intensified. Dark spots danced on the edge of his vision.
Dean could see "Ron" mumble some words he could not hear. His vision baralled as he saw Ron reach out to Sam. Sam hesitated a second before reaching out his
own hand. Dean was powerless, paralysed by his own pain. This was the last he saw of Sam. Dean completely lost his grip on the scene as he gave into the
darkness.
The doctor who had worked on Dean sighed for a second. His gaze lingered a second on the young mans still chest. He shook his head at the nurse, who stood on
the opposite side of the bed. She brushed a spare strand of hair behind her ear. He stepped back, holding the paddles limply in his hands. He watched the heart
machine, hoping that thwe still line would hop to life.
The doctor weighed up his options. The guy had been down for the past 12 minutes and he was completely unresponsive. Despite the fathers apparent turn-around
on treatment, the guy was still doomed. He knew
it and so did the nurse. He could delude himself and try to resustitate the young man even though his chances were slim.
"Call it," said the nurse. her voice was businesslike.
The doctor sighed. God he was not looking forward to telling the young mans family. From what he had seen they were really close. HIs brother, in particular, had
not been far from his side since he was brought in.
The doctor sighed again,
"Time of death 10:41 am."
TBC
HI SORRY IF THIS WAS A LITTLE CONFUSING. I TRIED TO EXPLAIN IT THE BEST I COULD. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT. BY THE WAY, I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THE CLIFFHANGER!!
