So, apparently the general consensus was that you guys didn't want to wait a week for an update. All I can say is if you thought the last cliffie was bad, just wait until you get to the end of this chapter. I seem to remember my beta begging me for the next chapter immediately…I couldn't imagine why.

The next update will be Friday night, but even then I don't know if you'll want to wait that long. But hey—it could be worse. I could make you guys wait an entire week for the next update. That would only prove I have demon blood running through my veins (believe me, it's up for debate at times…).

Just so you know, there are only two chapters remaining after this one, so our little ride together will be over next week. That makes me sad…

Big thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and to everyone who has left me comment. I appreciate and love every one of you and you make writing so much more enjoyable for me, so thank you for that.

And as always, a big thanks is owed to my amazing beta, Mizpah.

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Dean became conscious as a warm liquid dribbled down his forehead. Slowly opening his eyes, he sat up in his seat and brought his hands up to feel a cut at the base of his hairline, from where he'd hit his head on the dash when they'd crashed. Groaning softly, he knew he would soon have a killer of a headache, but it would be a small price to pay if he managed to get to Sam.

Sam!

Fully awake now, Dean darted a cautious glance over to Robbie to see that he was unconscious, his body slumped over the steering wheel. He could see blood on a good portion of the younger man's face and Dean wasn't even sure if Robbie had any more injuries.

But he wasn't about to stay there and find out.

Not when Sam's life was on the line.

Carefully maneuvering his body, Dean reached over and dug in Robbie's pockets for the key to the handcuffs. He didn't want to risk waking the man up, so he worked as slowly and cautiously as he could. Luck must have decided to pay him a visit, because Dean found his prize in the pocket closest to him.

Grasping the key tightly between his index finger and thumb, Dean inserted it into the lock and nearly whooped with joy when he felt it catch the tumbler. The cuff fell from his left wrist and Dean traded the key to his left hand to remove it from his right wrist.

Hold on just a little longer, Sammy. I'm on my way, little brother.

Looking over, Dean tried to see if he could find the gun that Robbie had earlier but it had gotten lost during the collision. Figuring he really couldn't afford to waste any time looking for it, he moved over to open the door when he heard a low moan coming from Robbie.

"Oh, come on…don't do this now," Dean muttered.

Dean was tempted to leave Robbie where he sat; the freak deserved everything that was coming to him anyway. But his dreaded conscience got in his way—or more like Sam's irritating conscience got in his way.

Sam would never allow someone to suffer when there was every opportunity to get help, no matter how depraved a person may be. Dean knew there was no way Sam would forgive him if he did that and Dean also knew he would be no better than Robbie or Gordon if he did that. Spying Robbie's phone lying on the seat beside him, Dean picked it up and dialed 911.

"911—what is your emergency?"

"There's been a car accident," Dean said quickly. "Someone's been hurt."

"Where are you, sir?"

"I'm not really sure. Probably a few miles out of town, headed north," Dean explained. "There's nothing out here."

"Just stay on the line, sir, and we'll get help to you as soon as possible," the operator calmly said. "How bad is the victim hurt?"

"I don't know—just get someone out here." Dean threw down the phone, the operator's voice still calling out to him. Pushing out of the car, Dean didn't look back as he took off towards the home Robbie had told him about before the crash.

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"Come on, Sammy—rise and shine."

Sam jerked awake as Gordon Walker's hand slapped against his face, causing his throbbing head to ache even more. The young hunter tried to say something, but the gag in his mouth prevented him from doing much more than grunt. Instead, he turned hate-filled eyes towards his captor.

"Those eyes may work on everyone else, Sam, but not on me," Gordon said, chuckling as he played with a knife while watching Sam.

Sam ignored him as he took in his surroundings. He was sitting in the middle of what appeared to be a living room, tied to a hardback chair, in somewhere that wasn't the motel room. It smelled dank and musty, almost as if it had been abandoned for years. The only light source came from a small lamp, trying its best to illuminate the large room, with it's faded wallpaper and old hardwood flooring.

"Sorry about the accommodations," Gordon commented as he watched Sam. "But then again, a freak like you doesn't deserve the Presidential Suite."

Sam grunted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sammy—would you like to say something?" Gordon teased, but he removed the gag anyway. "You can be as loud as you want. We're nice and secluded out here. It's the reason I picked this place when I got in town."

"Yeah, you're real original, Gordon," Sam said, dredging up a smirk while he tried to loosen the ropes around his wrists. "How many cloak and dagger movies did you have to watch to come up with this brilliant idea?"

"Keep being a smartass like your brother, Sam. Especially if it will help you cope," Gordon said as he circled Sam. "And if it will help you accept who you really are."

Sam titled his head. "And what exactly is that, Gordon? Oh, wait—let me guess. I'm evil, right?"

"That's right."

Sam rolled his eyes and he resumed his work on the ropes once Gordon walked back around to face him. "You know, I'm really getting tired of hearing the same spiel from you. How about you pick a new song for us to dance to?"

"Why pick a new one when this one has a really good beat to get you off your feet? You can try to deny it all you want, Sam." Gordon shrugged. "I guess it helps you sleep at night, doesn't it? It's like I told your brother, Sam—you're nothing but a freak, working on Hell's side. I messed up before. I overestimated you back in Indiana—I expected you to put me down like a dog, not let me live. But still—you deserve to be put down like that Carey kid."

Sam felt blood on his wrists as his skin became raw from his struggles. But he wasn't about to give up now. He just needed to push past the pain and keep on it. "Scott Carey was a kid—you never gave him a chance, Gordon."

"No, he wasn't human— he was a murderous freak."

Sam smirked. "Sounds like someone else in this room."

Gordon smiled cruelly as he walked towards Sam. The young hunter didn't have time to react before Gordon grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Sam's head back, pressing the blade of the knife against Sam's exposed throat.

"I stopped him before he could become was he was truly meant to be," Gordon said softly as he pressed the blade in deeper. "Now, unfortunately, I didn't get to stop you before you and your dumbass brother decided to let out a horde of demons from Hell. But at least I can remedy the situation before they choose to anoint you as their new leader."

Sam swallowed hard, feeling blood ooze down his neck. "Then kill me, Gordon. Nothing's stopping you now."

Gordon chuckled deeply as he released Sam and stepped back. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Sammy? But I don't wanna make it fast for you." He shook his head. "No, I want Dean to watch as the light slowly leaves your eyes. I want your brother to see what happens when he aligns himself with the enemy."

Sam felt a surge of hope when the ropes began to slacken around his wrists. Just a little more and you'll be home-free, Sam. "You'll have to excuse me if I decide to keep the vote of confidence in your abilities to myself, Gordon, considering you didn't succeed the last time." Sam canted his head and smiled smugly. "But hey, at least you got a few pointers about reaching for the soap, huh?"

Gordon snarled as he launched himself at Sam once again. Cocking back his fist, he landed a stiff uppercut against Sam's jaw, almost knocking the young hunter to the floor. Sam could feel blood seeping out from his busted lip but he took the blow like it was nothing, which only seemed to anger Gordon even further. Sam glared at him as if challenging the angry man, and just as Gordon was about to land another hit, he stopped, almost as if he realized what Sam was trying to do.

"No," Gordon panted, the smile once again forming on his lips. "I have a better way of getting to you, Sammy." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Sam swallowed nervously as he watched Gordon dial a number. He knew who would answer on the other end and he knew this time, there would be nothing he could say to stop Robbie from hurting Dean. He had to get out of here while Gordon was distracted; it was the only way he would be able to save Dean and himself.

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Gordon was having a hard time not letting Sam get to him, but damn, if the younger Winchester couldn't be as annoying as his older brother. He was letting Sam's words get to him, allowing the bastard to provoke him.

Gordon wasn't stupid—he knew Sam was trying to get him to make a mistake so he could get away. Well, Gordon Walker wasn't born yesterday—he wasn't a rookie who was about to mess up again. He'd missed his chance at Sam before and he was not about to do it another time. Sam Winchester had to die—that was all there was to it.

Gordon vowed he would not go to his grave until it happened.

He relished the fear he saw on Sam's face as he pulled out his cell phone. If there was one way to get the kid's attention it was by threatening his older brother—his big protector. But Gordon was tired of threatening Sam; it was time for action and time for Sam to suffer some consequences.

Dialing Robbie, he waited as the phone rang three times before it was finally answered.

"Robbie? What took you so long to answer the damn phone?"

"I'm sorry—who is this?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

Gordon frowned. "Who is this?"

"I'm a paramedic—are you a friend or family member of the victim?"

"That depends—who's the victim?"

"A young man, kind of on the scrawny side. Light brown hair…he said his name was Robbie Mallette."

"I'm his brother," Gordon lied. "What happened to him?"

"Your brother is going to be okay. He just managed to hit his head when his car ran off the road and hit a tree," the paramedic explained.

Gordon turned away when he saw Sam paying close attention to the conversation. "Was there anyone else in the car with him?"

"No, he was alone. Why? Was he supposed to have a passenger?"

"He was supposed to be picking up a friend," Gordon said, keeping his voice low.

"Like I said—we didn't find anyone else here."

"But you said he was gonna be okay, right?"

"Yes, he's fine. He's just got a nasty bump on the head but there's no sign of a concussion," the paramedic said reassuringly. "We advised him to go to the hospital just in case, but he's refused. My partner is patching him up right now and he'll be good as new in no time."

"All right…thank you." Gordon closed his eyes as he hung up. He knew this was no accident—Dean Winchester caused this. Well, two could play at that game…it was time for little Sammy to suffer.

Gripping his knife tightly, Gordon turned around and approached Sam. He could see the young man swallow nervously as his eyes widened in fear. Good…let him fear. He deserves to live in fear for what he is.

"It seems that your brother changed the game up a little bit, Sammy," Gordon said softly. "But no worry—it still won't stop me from what I'm meant to do."

Sam smirked. "Wanna bet?"

Before Gordon could fully comprehend what was happening, Sam launched himself out of the chair and charged him, tackling him to the floor. Gordon fought to bring his knife up, but Sam held a firm grip on Gordon's wrist, desperate to keep the blade away from him. Gordon brought his other hand up and punched the younger Winchester in the jaw, pitching Sam sideways to sprawl across the floor.

Gordon quickly jumped to his feet, intending to rush Sam while he was down but once again Sam caught him by surprise and grabbed his ankle, jerking Gordon to the ground. The knife fell from Gordon's grasp and Sam kicked it away before he could get to it again.

Gordon looked up just in time to see Sam's fist coming at his face and then nothing as darkness clouded his vision.

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Sam rose to his full height, panting, as he looked down at the unconscious Gordon. He knew the maniacal hunter wouldn't be down for long from past experience so it was best to get out of there while he could. Bringing a hand up to his face, Sam wiped away the blood, and with one last glare at Gordon he bolted out of there.

Coming out of the front door, Sam spotted the Impala. Racing to it, he was frustrated to find that the doors were locked. Gordon must have the keys on him, Sam thought bitterly. He wasn't even about to entertain the idea of going back in for them. The only other spare key they had was with Dean and even if Sam was able to bust a window open—which he wouldn't because he so didn't want to face the wrath of Dean—he still wouldn't be able to get into the trunk where all the weapons were.

At least now I know how I got here. And, hey, there's a bright side to all of this—if Dean wasn't gonna kill Gordon before, he certainly will after he finds out the psycho drove his car.

Taking a deep breath, Sam tried to figure out what his next move would be. He couldn't just stay out in the open and wait for Gordon to come after him. He needed to hide and come up with something better, preferably some kind of weapon to use against him because Gordon sure as hell was going to be pissed when he woke up from his little impromptu nap.

Spotting the thicket of woods that lined the left side of the property, Sam dashed towards it, thinking the forest would at least provide him with some semblance of cover until he come up with a definitive plan. As much as he hated to admit it, running was going to be his best option for now.

As he ran, he went over Gordon's phone call in his head. He knew the vampire hunter had called Robbie—it was probably the only number Gordon had in his phone. But from the one-sided conversation Sam heard, it was obvious something had happened and Robbie was hurt. And with how pissed Gordon seemed as he spoke and after he'd hung up, Sam couldn't help but think his big brother was behind it.

While that made Sam smile, it also made him furious—he would kill Dean for doing something so stupid. Sure, he figured his brother didn't have too many options in order to get away from the lunatic, but did he have to wreck the car and risk his own life to do it?

"Typical friggin' Dean…" Sam muttered, mostly to hear his own voice in the eerie silence. Dean was on this stupid trip about being invincible since he only had a year left to live and it was aggravating Sam to no end. Dean didn't seem to realize just because he had the damn contract, it didn't mean his due date couldn't come any earlier.

"SAM!"

Sam almost lost his footing at the sound of Gordon's angry voice. God, he really does have a hard head, doesn't he?

"Did you really think you could keep me down, you little hell spawn?" Gordon's voice echoed all around him so he couldn't really be sure where the dark hunter was. "You can't hide for long, Sammy! Why don't you make it easier on yourself?"

Sorry, I was never one to do things the easy way, Sam thought ruefully as he kept running, darting back and forth between the trees. He hazarded a look behind him for just a second and tripped, falling to the ground and landing hard.

Stupid root, he thought darkly as he painfully tried to lift himself up from the ground. Hearing a twig snap behind him, Sam looked up and his heart found its way up to his throat.

Robbie Mallette was standing behind him, a pleased smile plastered on his face as he pointed a gun at Sam's head. "Well, hey there, Sammy. You don't look too happy to see me."

Swallowing hard, Sam turned around on his back and scooted away before rising unsteadily to his feet. "You're supposed to be hurt."

Robbie pointed at the gauze pad on his forehead. "I am, thanks to that brother of yours. But it's like they say—'you can't keep a good man down.' Besides, nothing was gonna stop me from watching you die, Sam."

Before Sam could reply, another set of rapid footsteps rapidly approached them and Sam glanced behind Robbie to see Gordon join the party. I am so damned screwed right now.

"I told you I wasn't gonna let you get away again, Sam," Gordon said coldly as he stood next to Robbie. Nodding to the young man beside him, he said, "Do it."

Sam had no warning at all before Robbie fired the gun.

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So, you do remember that thing about demon blood in my veins, right? Yeah, I hate myself right now, too.