Author's Chapter Notes:
A special thanks goes out to Fredo for the quicky-beta, you're the best hon! ;)
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"Damn, Sammy am I glad to see you," Dean groaned as he gingerly made his way toward his brother's voice.
"Yeah, well that makes two of us, Bro," Sam replied, relief evident in the younger hunter's voice.
Dean edged forward until the toe of his boot came up against something solid. He had to admit he was more than done with being alone. Gingerly he reached out until he gripped the younger man's shoulder. The solid feel of his brother went a long way toward making the situation bearable. "Don't suppose you have a light?"
"Actually," Sam replied, "I do. It's in my pants pocket."
Irritated with Sam's cryptic answer, Dean snapped, "You planning on reaching for it anytime now, or do I have to frisk you for it?"
"Trust me, man, last thing I want is you sticking your hand in my pocket. Problem is my hands are kinda full right now."
As Sam's words sank in, Dean felt a hitch in his chest. Afraid to believe, he carefully reached out. Instead of hitting the younger hunter's solid chest, his hand encountered a much softer and feminine body part. "Dude, nice rack," Dean quipped breathily.
"Ha, ha," Sam groaned, "Here take her and I'll get us some light."
Afraid to believe that it truly was Sara, Dean gingerly gathered up the woman whom Sam held so carefully. "How'd you find her?"
"Don't jostle the leg," Sam warned as he helped get her settled.
Heeding Sam's warning, Dean gathered Sara's chilled form against his chest and held on tight. As he leaned down, his lips carefully brushing against her hair he couldn't help but inhale her familiar scent. For one long moment he concentrated on nothing other than the feel of her in his arms. How she fit so perfectly, neither too tall to handle, nor so short she felt insubstantial, Sara had a realness to her that Dean never took for granted.
The urge to check her over for injuries was nearly overwhelming, however given his lack of light and Sam's lack of panic, he held off.
As if reading his mind, and really he probably was given the amount of time they spent in each other's pockets, Sam offered, "She's fine, just worn out and freezing."
The elder Winchester didn't need his brother telling him that Sara was freezing. Everywhere their bodies touched, he could feel the icy chill of her skin. "Her leg?" he questioned as he began briskly running his hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm her.
"Car rolled over it. She's damn lucky the ground was so soft or she would have lost it."
"Lucky, huh?" Dean sighed heavily as he considered what his brother had told him. He wasn't sure if he should deride Sara's lack of luck, or if, given the fact that she'd survived so far, he should consider her the luckiest person ever.
"You haven't heard the least of it," Sam complained as a sudden spark flared bright in the black cave.
As Sam put the match to timber, a wash of light and warmth flooded the wide corridor allowing Dean to get his first glimpse of Sara's battered countenance. Pale skin, except where blood had mixed with dirt, and deep shadows left the young widow looking well beyond her years.
"Apparently, her rental was pushed off the highway by a ghost."
Dean snorted, "'course it was. Why is it I'm not surprised?"
Sam's grin flashed bright. "You gotta admit, she might not be a Winchester by birth, but she's got our luck."
The elder hunter couldn't help but grin, Sam had a point. "So, that's how she broke her leg?" he asked as he skimmed one hand over Sam's makeshift splint.
"Actually, she walked away from the crash only to break it while in the process of trying to find her phone."
Laying one calloused hand against her cheek, Dean carefully brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her face. "And then?"
"She managed to fashion a splint and made her way to the mine entrance."
Dean snorted, "I can't believe she thought this place was her best bet."
"You gotta give her credit, if it wasn't for the ghost we would have found her safe and sound sitting inside the cavern waiting for rescue."
"If only," Dean muttered as he pulled his gaze from her face and began to assess their circumstances. Other than the fact that they were together, they didn't have much going for them. No weapons, well unless you counted the pickaxe in his hand, no supplies, and near as he could figure, only one way out. "This thing coming back, Sam, or is trapping us inside here enough for it?
Sam fed a bit more wood into the fire and smiled grimly. "It thinks Sara is its long lost love. There's no way it's gonna just leave us alone."
"A supernatural crush...just great."
"Yeah, well unfortunately this thing's serious. He tossed me around when I tried to help her."
"Damn."
"Yeah, that about sums it up. How'd you end up in here?" Sam asked as he snapped his fingers for Jack's attention.
The dog who'd been staring intently at Sara glanced at the younger man for a moment then rose to his feet and made his way to Sam's side. Dean could blame Sam for wanting a bit of companionship. With its wet stone walls and dank cold air the mine tunnel wasn't the most welcome of places. Even the fire's bright glow did little to dissipate the claustrophobic feel of the corridor.
"Fell in," Dean admitted sheepishly. He still couldn't believe he'd been duped by a ghost. "Damn thing led me right to a sink hole."
"You hurt?" Sam asked.
"Naw, landed on my head."
"Well at least that's the hardest part of your body," Sam joked.
Dean groaned at the lame joke and gestured toward the way he'd come from. "I can get us back there."
Sam nodded and gestured toward the litter that was strewn across the rock flooring. "I can probably make us a couple torches. Is there anyway back out of the hole?"
Unsure but not seeing an option, Dean just shrugged. "Don't see us having many other options. You get us some light and I'll carry her out."
Just then a welcome, but weak, voice piped up, "I can walk."
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Dean's soft laugh at her outrageous words warmed her more than the body heat he was throwing off. Too weak to counter his opinion of her strength or lack of, Sara cuddled closer to his chest and savored the moment.
During those last few moments spent in the chamber, she'd honestly figured she would never see the hunter again. To awake in his arms was like heaven.
Strike that, she thought, as he tightened his hold and brushed his lips against hers. This was infinitely better. "Thanks for coming for me," she whispered painfully. The ton of dirt she'd inhaled in the cave-in had left her throat aching to rival her leg.
"Always," he promised, his bright green eyes fixed upon her own. "I'll always come for you."
That's all it took for Sara to fall apart.
One moment she was convincing herself that she was a strong, independent woman, that she could hold back the pain, and that she was a survivor. Then with a few softly spoken words he destroyed all her defenses leaving her sobbing pathetically.
"Shh....it's okay. I'm here," he promised as he rocked her back and forth.
It was then Sara realized he really was there, that no matter what might come, he would always be there. The better part of her adult life had been spent being brave, taking care of those she loved with a single-mindedness that excluded her own wants and needs.
At least until Dean. He was the first truly selfish thing she'd done for herself in a long time. In him, she'd recognized a kindred soul. Someone strong whom loved, every bit, as hard as she did. Her relationship with the hunter was unlike any she'd ever had before. With him, it was a constant give and take. They bolstered each other in the rough times and held each other in the good.
Acknowledging the fact that she no longer needed to be strong, that it was okay to admit she was hurting, did more to stop her broken sobs then Dean's awkward words. As she wound down, he used the edge of his shirt to wipe her eyes. Given the look of abject pity on his face, she could only imagine how disgusting she must look.
With a weak grin she apologized, "Sorry, didn't mean to do that."
Dean laughed softly and leaned until his lips were only a hairsbreadth from her own. "No worries, given what you've been through, I'm thinking you didn't cry long enough."
Sara stretched up for a sweet kiss and then leaned back. Feeling more like herself by the minute she dropped him a wink and asked, "You want me to cry some more?"
The handsome hunter shuddered theatrically and shook his head. "Oh, god no."
With a laugh that had her ribs protesting the movement, Sara turned to look about the corridor. "Sam?"
"He's just there," Dean assured her as he pointed toward the shadows. "We're thinking we should get moving. Sammy said this thing usually takes a bit of time to re-charge."
"Sounds right," Sara agreed as she struggled to sit upright.
"Easy," Dean cautioned as he helped her.
"You know the way out?" Sam asked as he materialized from the darkness beyond the fire's ring of light with a jumble of equipment.
"Yeah, I marked the way I came. We should be able to follow it out, or at least to the hole I fell in."
"The hole you fell in..." Sara said with a roll of her eyes. She was well aware of the dangers of Dean's job, however, when he hurt himself trying to help her she couldn't help but feel responsible. "You never do things the easy way do you?"
"Where's the fun in easy?" Dean asked as he gestured toward Sam, "And what are those?"
Sam's grin flashed bright in the fire light as he separated what looked like to harnesses attached to square blocks and helmets. "Backpack lights. I'm hoping there's a bit of juice left in these old batteries."
"Way to go, Sam," Sara breathed beyond happy that they weren't going to have to stagger through the dark with only Sam's pack of matches to light the way.
"Yeah, well don't go getting excited yet, they might not work."
"Only one way to find out," Dean declared.
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"See, we were bound to get some luck," Sam said as he carefully adjusted his lighted mining cap.
"Sam!" Dean and Sara chorused making it clear they disagreed with Sam's blatant tempting of fate.
Their protests left the younger hunter smiling as he led the way deeper into the mountain. He was feeling good. So far they'd traveled for nearly a half-hour undisturbed, the longest Sam had gone without encountering the spirit, and he was quickly becoming confident that the ghost was unable to venture deeper into the tunnel.
Though their pace was slow due to Sara's leg and their combined exhaustion they were still making relatively good time. Near as Sam could figure, if Dean's estimations were close, they should reach the opening by six a.m. Daylight, even just a weak winter sun, should be enough to put the spirit to rest, leaving Sam safe to go for help.
"We're making great time."
"Sam, could you please stop jinxing us," Sara groaned as she stumbled once more over an unseen rock.
The going had been hard for the widow. Although she'd yet to complain, Sam had no doubt that every stumbling step jarred her bad leg, making it flare in agony. He'd happily taken his turn as Sara's human crutch, allowing Dean a bit of a rest earlier, but had then turned her back over to his brother.
He could actually sense Dean's worry rolling off of him in waves. His brother was afraid Sara's pain was worse than she'd admit, opening up thoughts of compound breaks and infection. However, both hunters had agreed that stopping would only serve to keep her from help longer. There was nothing to be done for her. Their only option was to get her out as quickly as possible.
"You hanging in there?"
Sam heard his brother's whispered words but ignored Sara's low reply. He had little doubt that the widow was pushing off his brother's concern. This little nightmare had managed to raise Sam's already considerable esteem for the widow.
Despite the mess they were in, Sam felt that things were finally looking up.
At least that was his thought until he heard Jack let go with a bone-chilling growl.
"Something's coming," Dean shouted even as he drug Sara toward the rocky wall of the tunnel.
"Not something. It's the ghost," Sam corrected even as he cursed himself for his own optimism.
"Great, your ghost boy."
"Hey don't blame me, I'm irresistible," Sara groaned, pain lacing her every word.
As the wind began to pick up, sending debris flying, Jack continued snap and growl at the whirlwind. "He's coming," Sam warned.
"Any suggestions?" The oldest Winchester asked even as he planted himself in front of the widow.
Sam shook his head unsure of what they could do. Dean's iron pickaxe was the closest thing they had to a weapon and really it would only drive the spirit off, it wouldn't get rid of it. Knowing it wasn't enough, but unsure of what more they could do, Sam asked, "Wanna try and outrun it?"
Sara's groan was answer enough.
"It'll kill her," Dean said grimly even as he tightened his grip on his weapon.
The younger Winchester had to agree, being put over Dean's shoulder and run through the dark mine shaft would cause the widow untold agony. Problem was, Sam couldn't see any other way out.
"Just do it," Sara stated firmly as she tugged the axe out of Dean's hands and hefted it toward Sam. "We run, worse that'll happen is I'll pass out. We stay and I'm gonna end up this freak's undead bride."
Dean stood for one long moment undecided before he at last nodded. "Fine, up you go. Jack'll lead, Sammy you follow."
Sam swung the axe twice, getting a feel for the rough wooden handle before gesturing for Dean to get going. He kept one eye on the couple as he waited for them to be ready.
"I'm sorry," Dean muttered even as he dipped his knees and drove his shoulder lightly into Sara's midsection. Standing upright, he easily lifted the brunette off her feet and over his shoulder.
"Oh, God."
Sara's pain-filled gasp only made Sam more conscious of the fact that they had to hurry. "Let's go," he shouted over the wind.
Dean wrapped one arm firmly across the back of Sara's legs, holding her as immobile as he could even as he broke into an uneven trot.
Sam, using every one of his instincts, followed the group, the weak light of his helmet doing little more than deepening the many shadows.
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Sara was gonna puke. There was no way around it. Between the pain that radiated from her leg and Dean's bouncing gate as he sped her through the dark tunnel she was a hairsbreadth away from losing what little she'd eaten today.
Draped as she was, over Dean's rock hard shoulder, throwing-up was a no-win situation.
She had little doubt that the hunter would take such an action with easygoing humor; however, her pride would never let her forget it. It was bad enough she was bent in half, his arm clamped across her legs just below her rear. She was pretty sure the position had to be extremely unflattering, not to mention she was certain her ass was blocking most of his view. Throw in the idea of vomiting all over the back of his coat and she was confident she'd rather have the ghost get her.
With a groan of misery, Sara shifted slightly trying to ease the pressure in her mid-section. Instead, her movement caused another flare of pain, red-hot in its intensity, to flare up her leg. Now wishing she could skip the throwing up and go straight to passing out, she stilled and worked to breathe through the nausea and pain.
"You gonna puke?" Dean questioned his voice from her weight and the pace they were traveling at.
As she regulated her breathing, struggling to hold onto what little dignity she could claim, she lied through her clenched teeth, ""m good."
She wasn't sure if her mumbled statement would prove to be true, but she also knew she had little choice in the matter. To confess to Dean that the pain was beyond what she could stand, would be to risk the elder hunter stopping to take a stand. No way was she going to allow her own weakness to get Sam and him killed.
Carefully, she turned her head, watching Sam's lanky form as he followed only a step behind. The headlamp he had perched on his forehead illuminated his path but made it impossible to read the younger man's expression.
She couldn't help but send a prayer toward the cosmos that she wouldn't end up being the death of either Winchester.
That was Sara's last thought as Dean suddenly stumbled over a foundation timber that had fallen in the earlier collapse. As the hunter lost his footing for a moment, Sara felt sure she was going to hit the ground with a vengeance. Instead, Dean's natural athleticism saved them both, allowing the younger man to regain his balance with a grunt that Sara felt more than heard.
From her vantage point, Sara saw Sam lunge forward his intent clear.
In that one moment, while the younger hunter allowed his guard to slip, the spirit struck. A gust of wind struck Sam, slamming him into the tunnel wall with enough impact to cause him to lose his light and his axe.
Dean, his reaction hampered by the time it took him to set her on her feet, turned an instant too late to help the youth. Instead, he came face-to-face with the opaque form of Sara's mystery ghost.
"I will kill you," the spirit intoned, his expression making it clear that he fully intended to make good on the threat.
"Don't," Sara cried as she struggled to push Dean out of the way.
"Sara, stop," Dean ordered without looking her way. He'd posted himself between her and the spirit and she had no doubt he intended to stay there.
Sara found she didn't care. "He won't hurt me," she insisted as she struggled to get out from behind him.
"You don't know that," Dean chided as he stepped backward, forcing her to move back a stumbling step.
"I do, he thinks I'm his girlfriend."
Dean's snort made it clear what he thought of her statement. "What if he's the one that killed this Caroline girl? He's obviously warped."
At Dean's statement, the spirit flickered again. With anguish rolling through his every word, he advanced on the couple. "I would never hurt you, Caroline, you know that. I love you and I promise you, this time I won't let him hurt you."
Done with Dean's shoving her behind him like a wayward child, done with this spirit's insistence that she was in need of protection, and most of all done with being trapped in the mine, Sara threw out an elbow, catching Dean square in the side and took one wobbling step away from the hunter.
Now, fully exposed to the spirit, she pleaded, "I know you're confused, but I'm not your Caroline and I'm not in trouble."
For one long moment, Sara actually thought she'd made an impression on the spirit, then, before she could develop the connection she saw a flash of movement from just behind the ghost.
Sam, with axe in hand, swung at the spirit causing the young man to dissipate.
"Run," Sam urged even as he grabbed up his hardhat and shoved it back on his head. "It won't give us long."
Dean didn't hesitate, in one smooth motion he turned, shoved his shoulder into Sara's mid-section, hefted her back up with a move that left her breathless, and spun around to follow his brother.
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Dean could not believe what a mess this 'rescue' was turning out to be.
With his brother now leading, he stumbled his way down the corridor, conscious of the fact that he was leaving his back unguarded. "Watch our rear, Sara," he ordered as he worked to keep his footing.
"Watch for what?" she snapped, following up the question with a slap to his back. "It's pitch-black."
Already irritated with the widow for her little stunt, Dean jostled her slightly. "He's your buddy, just keep your eyes open."
Sara's answering moan of pain made him instantly regret his rough handling. "You okay?" he questioned even as he stumbled, jarring her even more.
"Just stop, Dean, we can't outrun it."
The hunter knew she had a point, there was no way he and Sam could hold this thing off indefinitely. He also knew there was little else they could do. Sara's idea, to stop and hold a therapy session with this thing was also out of the question.
At least that's what Dean had decided right up until the moment something hit him square between the shoulder blades, knocking the hunter and Sara to the ground. They fell in a tumble of arms and legs, with Sara's pain-filled cry the only sound he could manage to focus on.
TBC
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks much to everyone still following. ;) Kel