Sorry it took so long! Stupid finals in school and a bunch of other stupid things. Well, here is a nice long update for you to enjoy.

Dean burst through the rotting door of the house, his gun raised with the safety button clicked off. The scene that greeted him was definitely not what he was expecting.

The demon was standing the middle of the room, its fingers wrapped around Sammy's throat, pressing as hard as possible. Sam was gasping, desperately trying to breathe. The seconds seemed to lengthen, making Dean feel as if he had been standing there for hours watching Sammy die when it had really only been a few seconds. He saw Sam try to pry the demon's fingers from his neck, but to no avail. He saw the defeat in Sam's eyes when he allowed his fingers to fall to his side and his body to go limp. The demon laughed wickedly when Sam gave in and allowed his soul to leave his body. The door slammed against the wall and the demon whipped around, dropping Sam as he did. Dean watched Sam's body fall to the floor as if in slow motion. His body fell against the hard wooden floor with a sickening bang that reverberated in Dean's head. Sam's eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. Dean scanned over Sam's unmoving body and felt his heart ache for his little brother.

Sam was covered in blood from head to foot. His left arm was twisted to an odd angle, suggesting that the limb was broken. His chest was no longer moving up and down. Nasty bruises covered his entire body, one large one catching Dean's eye on his exposed chest. Dean flinched instinctively: broken ribs. Poor Sammy. Dean would have felt relieved that Sam had fallen unconscious as he wouldn't feel any pain, but he was too scared he wouldn't wake up again. The demon stared down the barrel of Dean's gun and laughed softly.

"Howdy, Dean," he said, smiling at Dean's glare. "It seems you are a couple seconds too late," he said, gesturing to Sam's motionless form. "Very bad timing, if you ask me. You have caught me in a rather good mood after strangling little Sammy here, so I will allow you to keep his mangled body. I'll even let you go, if you can get out of this house alive."

With that, the demon opened his mouth and let out an earsplitting howl, releasing black smoke as it did. The human body fell onto the floor next to Sam and the black cloud went through the floor and disappeared.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, clicked on the safety of his gun, and sprinted over to Sam, kneeling beside his broken body. He began to panic and his hands shook as he extended them towards Sam. No breath whistled past his lips. He gripped Sam's face and willed him to wake up and look at him.

"Come on Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice filled with desperation. "Breathe, dammit!"

He put his mouth to Sammy's and breathed air into his throat, pinching his nose to allow the air to go down his throat. He pushed down as hard as he dared against Sam's chest without doing more damage to get him breathing again. He leaned towards Sam's mouth and tried to detect any breath. Nothing. He repeated the movement over and over again and sweat began to drip down his face. Mostly from frustration than at the constant breathing air into Sam's body. He pounded Sam's chest and willed him to just breathe! Why couldn't he do that just for him?

Dean sat back on his feet and slumped his shoulders. What was he supposed to do? He isn't breathing! But he can't just give up hope though! He had come all this way just to see Sam and he would be damned if he let him die. He pounded his fist on his chest and growled in frustration.

"Why won't you just BREATHE!" Dean yelled with a particularly fierce pound of his fist. Sam drew in a sudden breath and began to cough loudly, desperately filtering air into his lungs.

Dean watched Sam for a second, unable to believe what had just happened. He pulled Sam up and gently leaned him against the wall. Sam's eyes were still tightly scrunched, indicating that this was all very painful.

Sam drew in deep gasping breaths, trying to settle his racing heart. It felt as if his heart was trying to leap out of his chest. Dean was hovering over him watching his every move. Sam couldn't remember a time when he was happier to see his big brother.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked, the desperation and anxiousness evident in his voice.

"I'm…okay," Sam said, surprised at the rasp of his voice. He raised his hand to his neck and found a clear ring of puffy bruises. Breathing did not come easily as his throat was slowly swelling. Fear of it completely swelling shut hovered over the brothers' heads. His ribs ached horribly, but the only thing he could think about was the fact that his brother was here and the demon was gone.

"Where's…the…demon?" Sam asked confusion etched on his face.

"He left," Dean said distractedly as he gently examined Sam's throat. "Damn Sammy, you scared me there for a minute. You weren't moving or breathing…"

Sam saw Dean's eyes fill with fear for a split second to be replaced with concern. It must have scared Dean half to death to walk into the room to see the demon strangling the life out of his little brother. Sam placed his right palm against the wall and tried to push himself into a standing position. Dean pushed himself to his feet and put his arms under Sam's armpits and pulled him gently to his feet.

"What the hell did that demon do to you?" Dean asked.

"Not…the demon." Sam whispered. It took most of his energy to get out those three simple words. "Ava."

"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean shouted a little louder than he had meant to. "She did this to you?"

"She…ah…whipped me…and…broke my…arm and…ribs," Sam wheezed. He could feel his throat swelling and his ribs poking at his lung. One misplaced breath and it would go straight through.

"I'll kill the bitch!" Dean screamed.

"Not…ah…right now," Sam said, now completely depending on Dean to support him. Blackness was once again protruding at the edge of his vision. His brain began to cloud over with lack of oxygen. He slumped even further into Dean's arms. "What…happened to…ah…the demon?"

"He left," Dean said. "He thought you were dead. Sam, we need to get out of here and get you to a hospital before your throat swells shut."

"Ah…yeah."

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's back and began to inch across the room, practically dragging Sam along with him. Grunts of pain occasionally slipped passed Sam's lips and his loud wheezing was a constant noise in the room. It was difficult dragging his injured little brother across the room, careful to not press against his back too hard or bump his broken arm and broken ribs. Progress was made slowly and after what seemed like hours they were across the room in front of the door. Sam was now completely out of it and barely conscious. Dean had sweat dripping down his face at the effort of carrying his brother across the room.

From behind them came a barely audible creak to a normal ear, but resonated in Dean's expertly trained ears. He spun around, Sam still clutched in his arms, and saw Ava Wilson with a gun pointed straight at his head.

"So, you did come to save little Sammy," Ava purred, a smile spreading across her lips. "Too bad he's already dead."

"He's not dead you little bitch," Dean sneered, "but you will be."

"Oh, I'm so scared," Ava said, tossing back her head and laughing loudly.

"What are you laughing at," Dean said menacingly. "I am going to tear you to shreds. After I'm done with you, your gonna wish you had never been born. I'll make you pay for what you did to Sammy."

Ava began to saunter across the room, slowly getting closer to where Dean stood clutching Sam in his arms.

"Aw, come on Dean," Ava said, "I was just having a little fun. And trust me, it was loads of fun. Watching Sammy writhe and scream in pain as the flesh was torn from his back. Or the crack that bounced off the wall when his bones were shattered with my favorite bat. He was the most fun I ever had torturing someone. He just wouldn't give in."

Dean was visibly shaking in anger and bit his lip to stop himself from lunging at her right at that moment.

"The best part was when I was finally able to get him to scream," continued Ava. "When I broke his ribs with my bat. That always makes them scream out in agony."

"SHUT UP!" Dean shouted. He placed Sam carefully on the floor and leveled his gun with Ava's forehead.

"Aw, poor Dean," Ava said in a whining voice. "Did that hurt? I assure you that this will hurt a lot more."

Ava clicked off the safety gun a split second before Dean had clicked off his. Two shots rang out almost simultaneously. Ava dropped to the floor with a bullet hole in her forehead and blood splattered on the wall behind her.

Dean clicked on the safety of his own gun and let out a sigh.

"Thank god she missed. Okay Sam, we gotta get out of here in case there are anymore demonic psychics in this freaky house."

Sam didn't answer and when Dean turned to look, he saw fresh blood blossoming from a bullet wound on Sam's shoulder.

I'm not sure if I'm gonna keep writing this one cuz no one seems to like it very much. If you feel differently, please tell me and I will continue. Please leave me nice reviews to encourage me to keep writing. Thanks guys!