Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its plot. I DO own my OC Sabrina Moore and Ayami[Aya] I also own what I add to the plot and the whole thing with Sabrina.


The Sabrina Moore Chronicles Chapter 8 Croatoan


CLINIC - NIGHT

Dean, in a dim hallway, grimly turning towards a door and pulling out a gun. He slides out the clip, taps it on the gun, then replaces it. Inside the room, there is a Crater Lake poster on the wall. Below it is a young blond man, Duane, tied to a chair. Nearby are a young woman, Pam, a middle-aged woman, Dr. Lee, and a tough-looking black man, Mark. Duane looks up as Dean opens the door and enters, raising the gun. Duane begins babbling.

"No, no, no, no, no, you're not gonna... no, I swear! It's not in me!" Duane pleads.

"Oh God. We're all gonna die." Pam says.

"Maybe he's tellin' the truth." Mark says.

"He's not him, not anymore." Dean says advancing, cocking the gun.

"No, stop it! Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!" Duane pleads.

"I just . . . I can't tell." Dr. Lee says.

"No, please, don't. Don't. I swear, I,"

"I got no choice." Dean says.

"I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me! Don't, don't. Please!" Duane sobs. Dean fired twice.


MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Sam, who was lying on the floor beside a motel bed and coming out of the vision. The door opened and Dean entered, chewing on jerky and carrying a six-pack of beer. Sam sat up, panting.

"Sam?"


BLACKTOP - NIGHT

Dean was driving, Sam navigating with a GPS device which spoke directions.

"Continue on O-R Two-Two-Four West."

"There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove." Sam said.

"How come you're so sure it's the one in Oregon?" Sam had a flashback to the vision — the Oregon poster on the wall.

"There was a picture. Crater Lake."

"Okay, what else?"

"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair."

"And I ventilated him?"

"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him."

"What, a demon? Was he possessed?" Dean asked.

"I don't know."

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow . . . so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?"

"No. Nothing, you just plugged him, that's it."

"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason."

"I sure hope so."

"What does that mean?" There was a paused. "I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man." Sam raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't!"

"I never said you would!"

"Fine!"

"Fine! Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what."

"Fine."

"Fine."


RIVERGROVE STREET - DAY

The trio pulled into town past a large billboard advertising Crater Lake. They pulled up in front of a wooden shop; out front the older man from the vision, Mark, was cleaning a rifle; he wore a short-sleeved blue shirt with a multi-pocket brown vest. Sam, Sabrina and Dean get out and approached him.

"Morning." Dean said.

"Good morning. Can I help you?"

"Yeah." Dean pulled out a badge. "Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Daisy Jones. U.S. Marshals.

"What's this about?"

"We're looking for someone."

"A young man, early twenties." Sam said. "He'd have a, a thin scar right below his hairline."

"What'd he do?"

"Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us."

"Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet." Dean said. He glanced down at Mark's left arm, which showed a distinctive tattoo. "I think maybe you know who he is . . . Master Sergeant." Dena smiled. "My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal."

"What company?

"Echo-2-1."

"So can you help us?" Sam asked. Mark hesitated

"Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?" Dean asked.

"With his family, up Aspen Way."

"Thank you." They left; Mark frowned as he watched them go. Across the street, Sam bumped into a telephone pole and glanced at it in passing. He stopped; carved into the wood was a single word:

CROATOAN

They approached the pole and Sam pointed at the word with a significant look.

"Hey."

"Croatoan?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Dean looked at him blankly. "Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?"

"Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills becomes a laws . . ."

"That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock." Sabrina giggled.

"Whatever."

"Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America, late 1500s?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan."

"Yeah. And I mean, there were theories — Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight."

"You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean . . ."

"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?"

"Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so . . ."

"We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Dean pulled out his cell phone, then frowned at it. "I don't have a signal." Sam and Sabrina did the same, then shook their heads.

"I don't either." Sam said. They walked to a pay phone, which Dean picks up; the "out of service" beeping, and Dean clicked the receiver several times.

"Line's dead." He hung up. "I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step."


TANNER HOUSE - DAY

The Impala was parked outside a cabin-like house in the middle of nowhere, and Sam, Sabrina and Dean approached the front. By the door was a small, tacky plaque that reads "BORN TO FISH; FORCED TO WORK". Sam knocked on the door, and a teenaged boy with dark spiked hair, Jake, opened it.

"Yeah?" Dean flashed his badge.

"We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?"

"Yeah, he's my brother."

"Can we talk to him?"

"Oh, he's not here right now."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake."

"Your parents home?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they're inside."

"Jake? Who is it?" Mr. Tanner said from inside before coming into view.

"Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane." Dean said.

"Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?"

"No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all."

"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, maybe your wife knows."

"No, I don't know, she's not here right now."

"Your son said she was." Dean said.

"Did I?" Jake asked.

"She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?"

"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later." They turned and walked down the steps as the Tanners shut the door behind them. "That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?"

"Big time." Sam said. Looking furtively about, they snuck around to the back of the house, crouching below a window.


TANNER HOUSE - DAY

Beverly Tanner was tied to a chair and gagged; Jake came around behind her, hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay, Mom. It's not gonna hurt." Mr. Tanner came out of the next room with a kitchen knife. Jake stood in front of his mother and casually rolled up one sleeve; his father cut into his arm and let the blood drip onto a wound in Beverly's shoulder.

Outside, Sam, Dean and Sabrina armed themselves and kicked down the back door. As they rushed in, handguns raised, Mr. Tanner rushed at them with a knife; Dean shot him thrice in the chest. Jake jumped out the window, shattering glass, and darted off into the woods. Sam aims at him through the window but hesitated, giving him time to get away. Sabrina looked at him and he looked away.


HOSPITAL - DAY

Beverly was in the back seat of the Impala with Sabrina; as they pulled up in front of the clinic Sam and Sabrina helped her out and led her to the door. Dean opened the trunk and looked around furtively.

CLINIC - DAY

Sam and Sabrina led Beverly inside; the clinic was quiet, dim, and empty.

"Hello? Hello? We need a doctor here!" Sam called. The young woman from the vision, Pam, rushed out, concerned.

"Mrs. Tanner, what happened?"

"She's been attacked.

"Doctor Lee?" Dr. Lee rushed in.

"Bring her in." She said.

"Okay." Pam led Sam, Sabrina and Beverly into a back room, and Dr. Lee went to follow. Dean entered carrying the, canvas-covered, body of Mr. Tanner hoisted over his shoulders. Dr. Lee looked at him.

"Is that —"

"Mr. Tanner?" Dean asked.

"Was he attacked too?"

"Uh . . . no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot."

"Shot?"

"Yeah."

"And who are you?"

"U.S. Marshal. I'd show you my badge, but uh . . ."

"Oh. Sorry. Bring him back here."


LAB - DAY

Beverly was seated on a stool with her shirt off; Dr. Lee sat across from her, treating the wound on her left shoulder.

"Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?"

"They beat me. Tied me up." She said nodded.

"I don't believe it." Pam said.

"Pam. Beverly . . . do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?"

"No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them." The trio was listening to this, and they shared a look at her last words.

"We gotta talk." Dean said. They exited the lab. "Those guys were whacked out of their gourds."

"What do you think? Multiple demons, mass possession?"

"If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention."

"Great."

"Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town; you take it from the inside."

"I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs." Dean looked at Sabrina.

"Can Aya tell if someone's possessed?"

"She can, I can't."

"And she's not telling you." He sighed. "Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one there'd be one less to worry about." He said to Sam.

"I'm sorry, all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!"

"No, it was an "it". Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam." Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

"How's the patient?" Sam asked.

"Terrible! What the hell happened out there?"

"We don't know." Sam said.

"Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor."

"We didn't have a choice." Dean said.

"Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner . . ."

"Phones are down." Sam said.

"I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?"

"Yeah we do. But it crapped out just like everything else."

"I don't understand what is happening."

"How far is it to the next town?" Dean asked.

"It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder."

"All right, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help." Dean said clapping Sam on the shoulder. "My partners'll stick around, keep you guys safe."

"Safe from what?"

"We'll get back to you on that."

BLACKTOP - DAY

Dean pulled up behind a wrecked car with Oregon plates that read "WTF 4C7"; he stopped to investigate, carrying a gun. The windows on the car were smashed and blood covers the seats; on the ground by the driver's side was a large bloody knife. He picked it up.


CLINIC - DAY

Sabrina was sitting on the counter next to Sam who was leaning against a counter, staring at the body of Mr. Tanner. He began pacing; Dr. Lee was nearby, looking at something in a microscope.

"Huh."

"What?" Sam asked.

"His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high. His body was fighting off a viral infection."

"Really? What kind of virus?"

"Can't say for sure."

"Do you think an infection could have made him act like that?"

"None that I've ever heard of. I mean, some can cause dementia, but not that kind of violence. And besides, I've never heard of one that did this to the blood."

"Did what?"

"There's this . . . weird residue. If I didn't know better I'd say it was sulfur."

"Sulfur." Sam and Sabrina shared a look.


BLACKTOP - DAY

Dean drove along the road to a bridge, which was blocked by a roadblock consisting of several cars and a half-dozen locals with guns. One was Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged down on the roof of the car and he jumped; a man leaned over into frame.

"Oh-ho-ho. Hey."

"Sorry. Road's closed."

"Yeah, I can see that. What's up?"

"Quarantine."

"Quarantine? What is it?"

"Don't know. Something going around out there."

"Uh-huh. Who told you that?"

"County Sheriff."

"Is he here?"

"No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?" Dean laughed nervously.

"Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry."

"I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute."

"Yeah, I'll bet you would." Dean put the car into a quick reverse; the man grabbed his collar and was dragged along. The men at the roadblock began firing, and Dean swings the car around, shaking the man off and zooming away.


CLINIC - DAY

Sam was staring intently at Beverly, still huddled on the stool in the lab.

"I don't understand. Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Now, during the attack, do you remember . . . did you have any direct contact with their blood?" Dr. Lee said.

"Oh my God. You don't think I've got this virus, do you?

"Beverly, I don't know what to think. But with your permission, we'll take a blood sample." Beverly nodded and laid her hand gently on Dr. Lee's. Suddenly she grabbed Dr. Lee's wrist and yelled in rage, lashing out with her other hand. Sam advanced on her and she tossed him against a glass cabinet, which shattered. She picked up a scalpel as he took a fire extinguisher from the wall; she advanced on him, still yelling. He knocked her out.


TOWN ROAD - DAY

Dean was driving back into town; Mark stepped into his path brandishing a rifle, and he stopped the car.

"Hands where I can see 'em!"

"Okay!"

"Get out of the car! Out of the car!"

"All right, easy there, big guy." Dean said opening the door and getting out slowly. As he stood, Dean pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Mark. "All right, put it down!"

"Lower it now!"

"Put it down!"

"Are you one of 'em?"

"No! Are you?"

"No!"

"You could be lying!"

"So could you!"

"All right! All right. We could do this all day, all right? Let's just uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other."

"What's going on with everybody?" Mark asked relaxing slightly.

"I don't know."

"My neighbor . . . Mr. Rogers, he —"

"You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?"

"Not anymore." Dean shook his head. "He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone."

"I'm heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left."

"No, no way. I'm getting the hell out."

"There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, come on."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine, stay here, be my guest." Mark hesitated, then changed his mind. He pulled out a handgun and kept it pointed towards Dean as he got into the passenger's side; Dean still had his gun up as well. "Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive." Dean muttered.


CLINIC - DAY

Dr. Lee was again looking through the microscope; Pam huddled against the far wall.

"What if we all have it? What if we all go crazy?"

"You've got to stay calm. All we can do is wait. The Marshal's bringing help."

"I can't, I . . . I've got to go."

"Pam!"

"No, you don't understand. My boyfriend's out there, I gotta make sure he's okay." She hurried out of the lab, and Sam followed her all the way to the lobby.

"All right, wait, wait. Please. Look, I know you're upset, all right? But it's safer if you stay here for now. Help is coming." Sam said. They heard the Impala pulled up outside. "There they are."

"Sammy? Open up!" Sam opened the door to let in Dean and Mark; both are still armed.

"Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?"

"Road block." Dean looked at Mark. "I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside."

"What's going on out there, Dean?"

"Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man, I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?"

"Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus."

"Okay, great. What do you think?"

"I think she's right."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood."

"A demonic virus?"

"Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I've been having visions."

"It's like a Biblical plague."

"Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony."

"And?"

"Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Reesha. A demon of plague and pestilence."

"Well, that, that's terrific. Why here, why now?"

"I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people."

"They've got one! In here!" Mark shouted.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he entered the room.

"The wife. She's infected." Sam said.

"We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Mark said. Dean barely hesitated before pulling out his gun and stalking into the lab.


LAB - DAY

"You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" Pam asked.

"Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?" Sam asked.

"Can you cure it?" Dean asked.

"For God's sake, I don't even know what "it" is!"

"I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through." Marko said.

"Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!" Pam said.

"Sam." Dean said. They went to the door of the utility room, where Beverly was being held. Dean and Mark held their guns ready; Sam carefully opened the door, and Dean and Mark took up offensive positions. Inside, Beverly was huddled on the floor, knees drawn up. She jumped at their approached.

"Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them! They locked me in here, they, they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!"

"You sure she's one of 'em?" Dean asked. Sam nodded, his face twisted in distress. As Mark pulled back, near tears, Dean stepped forward and fired twice.


CLINIC - NIGHT

The shades were drawn, and Marl peered through them cautiously. A few people were gathered outside. Behind him, Sam pulled out a hunting knife and checked the blade as Dean loaded a gun. In the lab, Pam had just dropped a vial of blood; she screamed.

"Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?"

"You're clean, you're okay." Dr. Lee said.

"Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!"

"No, we can't, because those things are everywhere." Dean said.

"Oh god . . ." Pam said sinking down

"Hey, shh, shh."

"She's right about one thing." Sam said quietly. "We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming."

"Yeah, good point. Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty."

"Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice." Mark said. "Lots of folks up here are good with rifles — even with all your hardware we're, we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives . . . " Sam glanced up at a shelf of medical supplies and got an idea.

"We could make some." He went to the shelf and took down a bottle of Potassium Chloride; just then, someone started pounding frantically on the front door. The boys and Sabrina ran out.

"Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!" Duane shouted.

"It's Duane Tanner!" Mark said. He opened the door and let Duane in. He had a backpack and was limping.

"Thank god."

"Duane, you okay?" Dean turned to Sam and spoke quietly.

"That's the guy that I, uh," He clicked his tongue.

"Yeah."

"Who else is in here?" Duane asked.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief." Dean said grabbing his arm. "Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?"

"Pam?" Dr. Lee asked leading the group to the lab.

"Who are you?" Duane asked Dean.

"Never mind who I am. Doc."

"Yeah, okay."

"Duane. Where you been?" Mark asked.

"On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I . . . I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?

"Awkward . . ." Dean said to Sam and Sabrina attempting a joking tone.


Duane was sitting on a stool; his left leg had a deep gash in it.

"You're bleeding." Dr. Lee said.

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked

"I was running, I must have tripped."

"Tie him up, there's rope in there."

"Wait . . . "

"Sit down!" Dean said pulling his gun on him.

"I'm sorry, Duane, he's right. We've gotta be careful." Mark said.

"Careful? About what?"

"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asked.

"No, what the hell? No!"

"Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?" Sam asked.

"I've studied Beverly's blood work backwards and forwards."

"My mom!"

"It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so . . . no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns."

"Dean, Bri, I gotta talk to you. Now." Sam said. Dean glanced at Mark, who nodded. The trio left the lab.

"Sit in that chair." Mark said.


ANOTHER ROOM - NIGHT

"This is my vision, guys. It's happening."

"Yeah, I figured."

"You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not."

"Well, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?"

"All right, then we should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see."

"For what?" Dean asked. "For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." He started to push past Sam, who stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that."

"It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point."

"What does that buy us?"

"A clear conscience, for one!"

"Well, it's too late for that."

"What the hell's happened to you?" Sam asked stopping him again.

"What?"

"You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there."

"Mm-hmm." Dean pushed past Sam a third time; Sam tried to stop him again but Dean hurled him against the far wall. He went back into the hall and locked the door behind him.

"Hey!" Sam rattled the lock. "Open the damn door, Dean! Don't do it, Dean! Don't!" Dean was now in the hallway from the vision. He dropped the clip out of the gun and tapped it against the butt, then replaced it. He opened the door to the lab and shut it behind him; Duane was tied to the chair and Mark, Pam and Dr. Lee stood nearby.

"No, you're not gonna . . . No, no, I swear it's not in me!"

"Oh God. We're all gonna die." Pam said.

"Maybe he's telling the truth." Mark said.

"No, he's not him, not anymore." Dean said.

"Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!"

"I . . . I can't tell." Duane started sobbing.

"Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I, I swear it's not in me. No, don't."

"I got no choice." The moment stretched on: Dean pointing the gun at Duane with his finger hovering over the trigger, Duane sobbing, the others watching in tense silence. Dean trembled, hesitated, and finally lowered the gun with a grimace. "Damn it!" Duane panted in relief as Dean left the room.


Sam turned to Sabrina.

"Make Aya open the door."

"I can't make her do anything."

"Let her out!"

"Okay okay! Jeez!" She said holing up her hands. She closed her eyes. When she opened them they were purple. "You miss me Sammy?"

"Open the door."

"Why should I?" She put her hands on her hips.

"Because an innocent kid is about to die?"

"No he's not."

"You know that for a fact."

"Uh ye-ah."

"Why didn't Bri just tell me?"

"She doesn't know when to tell."

"Don't you tell her?"

"No I tell her when she defiantly can't tell you. Other than that I leave her to decide if you should know."

"I think it would've been important to know if Duane is clean or not before Dean left."

"I don't tell her everything, silly. That would be no fun." Sam scoffed. "Speaking of fun." She said walking close to him. She reached up and twirled a lock of his hair. He caught her wrist.

"Seriously?"

"I've been asleep for two years." She whined.

"Only Bri can…uh." He trailed off realizing what he was about to say.

"Only Sabrina can have fun?" Sam looked away shaking his head. "This is still her body." She pushed herself against him.

"No." He said pushing her away.

"You're no fun." She said looking away. She smirked and Sam looked wary.

"What are you smirking at?" She chuckled and suddenly jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. His eyes widened and his hands held her up instinctively. She closed her eyes and kissed him. A second later she opened them; they were blue again. She pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry!" Sam blinked.

"U-Uh no it's fin- um." He put her down, keeping his hands on her sides while hers were still around his neck. He swallowed. Dean suddenly walked up to the door. He opened it and crossed his arms.

"Seriously?" The two looked at him before breaking away.

"We weren't-"

"A-Aya-"

"She was-"

"Alright!" Dean said, eyebrows raised. "I'll forget I saw this." Sam and Sabrina looked at each other shyly embarrassed. Dean glared at Sam.


LATER:

Dean, Sabrina and Sam were preparing explosives with rags and glass bottles. Dr. Lee entered, hands in her pockets.

"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's all right." Dean and Sam shared a look; Sam nodded, Dean lowered his head.

"Sure. Yeah." She left. "You know I'm gonna ask you why."

"Yeah, I know."

"So why? Why didn't you do it?" Sam asked.

"We need more alcohol." Sam got up and left the room. Dean glanced at Sabrina. "Do you like Sam?" She looked at him.

"Huh?"

"Do you like Sam?" He repeated.

"To be honest I think of him as an older brother, it's just fun to tease him; Aya takes it a little too far." She said with a sheepish smile. He nodded. "Why do you ask? Because you found us…?"

"Uh yeah."

"Don't worry."

"Why would i worry?"

"Uh I-I dunno." She said. They got back to work.


Sam went into the dispensary and found Pam already there.

"How you holding up, Pam?" He asked.

"Good. It'll all be over soon." She shut the door and locked it; Sam, his back turned, didn't notice. "In fact, I've been waiting for this the whole time."

"For what?"

"To get you alone." She lashed out and knocked him to the ground. She straddled his chest and hit him, hard, across the face. Outside the room, Dean and Mark heard the commotion and arm themselves. Pam had a scalpel in one hand, which she sliced across Sam's chest and then across her own palm, placing her wound over his. Dean kicked the door open and shot her three times in the back. She convulsed and fell to the floor. Sabrina stood in the doorway. Sam reached out a hand to Dean who started to lean over to take it; Mark pulled him back.

"She bled on him. He's got the virus." He said. Sam pulled his hand back, realizing it was true; Dean and Sabrina's faces were stunned, looking from Sam to Pam.


LAB - NIGHT

Sam was now sitting on the stool, a bandage pressed to his chest. His eyes were down, and he looked near tears. The others surround him, Dean pacing angrily. Sabrina stood next to him holding his hand, though it was more for her comfort.

"Doc, check his wound again, would you?" There was a pause. "Doctor!"

"What's she need to examine him for? You saw what happened." Mark said.

"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Dr. Lee asked.

"Come on, of course it did!" Mark said.

"We don't know that for sure."

"We can't take a chance." Duane said.

"You know what we have to do." Mark said.

"Nobody is shooting my brother."

"He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself." Duane said.

"Nobody is shooting anyone!"

"You were gonna shoot me!"

"You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!"

"Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself." Sam said.

"Forget it."

"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things."

"Sam, we've still got some time,"

"Time for what?" Mark asked. "Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this." Mark pulled out his handgun.

"I'm gonna say this one time — you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!"

"Then what are we supposed to do?!" Dean tossed Mark his keys.

"Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now."

"What about you?" There was a pause.

"Dean, no." Sam said. "No. Go with them. This is your only chance!"

"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy."

"Me neither." Sabrina said squeezing his hand. Sam looked at her.

"No, he's right. Come with us." Mark said. Dean and Sabrina didn't say anything. "Okay, it's your funeral." He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

"I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, Marshals."

"Oh, actually we're not really Marshals." Dean said.

"Um. Oh." She left, and Dean shut the door behind her. He turned slowly to face Sam, who started to cry.

"Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something." Dean said.

"Dean, Bri, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here."

"No way."

"Give me my gun, and leave."

"For the last time, Sam. No." Sam slammed his hand on the table.

"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?" He shuddered.

"Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."

"No?"

"No, you two can keep going."

"Who says I want to?"

"What?" Dean crossed to the other wall and pulled a handgun out of his waistband before sitting on the file cabinet.

"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it."

"So what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has —"

"You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but . . . "

"What is it about?" They heard a noise outside; a moment later there was a knocking on the door. Dean picked up both handguns and crossed to it; Dr. Lee was there. He opened the door.

"You'd better come see this."

CLINIC - NIGHT

All six survivors were standing just outside the clinic; everything else in sight was deathly silent.

"There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just . . . vanished." Dr. Lee said.


CLINIC - MORNING

Dr. Lee was looking through the microscope; Sam was seated on the exam table.

"Well, it's been five hours and your blood's still clean. I don't understand it but I think you dodged a bullet."

"But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?"

"I don't know. But you're just not. I mean, you compare it with the Tanner samples . . ." She looked through another microscope. "What the hell?"

"What?"

"Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing."


CLINIC - DAY

Mark and Duane were loading up a truck; Dr. Lee stood in the doorway of the clinic.

"Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come." Duane said.

"I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care." She said. Mark waved to her and to Dean, Sabrina and Sam, who were leaning against the Impala.

"What about him?" Dean asked.

"He's going to be fine. No signs of infection." Dr. Lee went back inside as Mark and Duane pulled away in the truck. Dean turned to Sam.

"Hey man, don't look at me. I got no clue." Sam said.

"I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just friggin' melted."

"Why was I immune?"

"Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away?" They got in the car and pulled away from town.


BLACKTOP - NIGHT

Mark drove his pickup down a dark two-lane road; Duane was in the passenger's seat.

"You mind pulling up ahead there?" He asked.

"All right." Mark pulled onto the shoulder and stopped the truck.

"I gotta make a call."

"No phone out here."

"I got it covered." He pulled out a small knife.

"What the hell is that?" In a quick motion, Duane lashed out, slitting Mark's throat; he caught the blood in a metal bowl, just like the one Meg used to use. He sat back and dipped his hand in the blood, swirling it around.

"It's over, you'll be pleased. I don't think any more tests are necessary." A pause. "The Winchester boy, definitely immune, as expected." Another pause. "Yes, of course. Nothing left behind." Duane's eyes had gone demonic-black.


BRIDGE - DAY

The Impala was parked by the side of a road, overlooking a river. Sam was sitting on a fence while Dean leaned against it, drinking beer. Sabrina was sitting next to Sam.

"So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I mean you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn't just because of Dad."

"Forget it."

"No, I can't. No way."

"Come on man, I thought we were both going to die, you can't hold that over me."

"No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking."

"And what if I don't?"

"Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do."

"I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to . . . go to the Grand Canyon."

"What?"

"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. Or Hollywood, see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan."

"You're not making any sense."

"I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?"

"Why are you saying all this?" Dean shook his head, turning away. "No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit."

"I can't. I promised."

"Who?"

"Dad."

"What are you talking about?" Dean looked down.

"Right before Dad died, he told me something." He took a breath and looked at Sam. "He told me something about you."

"What? Dean, what did he tell you?"