Howdy to all ! Next chapter up! As always, I hope you find even a little enjoyment in it. :) Don't be afraid to review, I won't BITE you! tee-hee! :)

Sam and Samuel don't speak but they don't have to. They seems to be able to communicate through looks alone. Sam glances at his grandfather and sees him motion to the decapitated body that litters the floor. Sam takes the hint, leaves Samuel to manage his brother, and goes off to collect the blood. Blood from the vamp that turned Dean. From the vamp that Sam let turn Dean. He shivers slightly as he works to gather the fluid. He quickly shakes off the coldness he suddenly feels and joins up with his grandfather once again.

Fight it Dean. Don't lose control. Don't give in. Fight it. The words echo through Dean's mind as he steels himself against the onslaught. Against the steady throb of pain, the constant drum of it that the damn poison has released within him. In his weakened state Dean can not do one thing to prevent his so called family from manhandling him. From carting him, leading him out of the building, away from the nest. He hates them. With his entire being. His vision begins to fade in and out and his skin crawls. He despises the feel of it. Of the sensation. Of their hands on him. The bastards lead him around like some kind of filthy, mangy mutt. His insides seethe with rage. He screams inside for them to let him go. To leave him alone. To stop touching him. He has another thought. Death. He wants them to die. The sooner the better. Although his body has chosen to betray him, his mind is in overdrive. He can. He must. He will get out of this. He feels his strength start to wane and it really pisses him off.

The pair can feel the change in Dean's body control immediately when his body finally gives out. They feel his legs buckle and the crush of his weight as it descends upon them. They know the exact moment when he loses the fight and succumbs to the pull of darkness, when he passes out cold. They look to one another again and share a silent sense of relief. They load Dean's limp frame into the van and wordlessly bind his arms and legs with rope. They both know the bonds would never hold him if it wasn't for the poison pumping through his veins, but right now they hope it will hold. That it will be enough for the ride back to the room. They just need to make it back. To their supplies. To another vial of dead man's blood. There if they need it. Everything is back there, back at the room. They just need to make it there in one piece.

"I'll drive Sam, you keep an eye on your brother. We have no idea how long we have." Sam and his grandfather share just one more glance before they take their respective positions in the vehicle and begin the journey back to the motel. Back to a cure for Dean.

He figures he must have blacked out for a time as he opens his eyes but does not remember letting them close. He tries to focus through the blur that coats them. He takes a moment to get his bearings and finds himself laying on the floor of the van. He sees Gramps at the wheel and Sam, who is seated across from him, wearing a very somber looking mask. Dean tries to rise but can't because it becomes apparent that his hands and feet are tied. He thinks his relatives are sneaky little cowards, too afraid to try and contain him while he is awake. He lets out a sigh of frustration and struggles against his bonds until his strength fades and he is forced to stop his attempts. His eyes catch onto and hold the gaze of the man who shares the back of the van with him. Dean does his best. He delivers the best, most intimidating, hateful, dagger throwing death glare he possibly can. He aims it squarely onto his brother. "You've..." He curses to himself, feels the pain well up inside and takes a shaky breath. "You've only delayed the inevitable S'm...I've... I've decided..." Dean takes a ragged breath. "No more Mr. Nice Guy... I am done. No more. It's time... to let the real me... shine through." Pause. Another shaky breath echoes through the van. "Death, Sam." Pause. "Death is what awaits you... my brother." Dean smiles and his eyes drift closed. He just needs to rest for a minute or two. Gather some strength. The game is not over yet. Not by a long shot.

TBC...