Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural... I just wish I did!

Thank you for the reviews! Sorry again for the cock up with the last chapter, hope it didn't confuse people too much!

"Opium?"

Sam waited about five seconds for a response, and then twisted around in his seat. Blood was leaking across the back seats of the Impala, dripping steadily onto the floor. For the third time since they had got into the car and begun to drive, Opium had stilled again. Sam leant over the back seats and touched the vampire's shoulder as gently as he could, glancing between him and the road.

"Opium? Hey, man, c'mon, don't fall asleep. You have to stay awake."

Opium moaned but then rolled his head towards Sam and blinked in acceptance. Sam retreated back to his seat, looking quickly at Dean. If his brother was angry at the fact that there was blood all over his car, he had kept quiet. In fact, right now, his eyes were simply fixed on the road with a strange kind of urgency in them. Dean had wanted to drive, but Sam had managed to over-rule him for once. In his condition, Dean would probably only succeed in crashing the car. Instead, Sam drove and Dean had called Vicky to tell her to head back to the house. Their plan hadn't gone according to plan, but at least everyone was alive.

Apart from Lusing, that is, Sam added silently.

After hearing what that cowardly backstabber had done, Sam had only just controlled himself enough to keep from hunting the vampire down and slicing off his head himself. How dare Lusing abandon Dean - and his own brother too - at the very moment when they had needed him the most? Well, he would pay for it, Sam thought furiously. I'll see to that...

"Sam?"

Sam glanced at Dean. His brother had wiped the blood from his face, but the wound on his cheek was still weeping red tears. Dean had to keep blotting the blood off his cheek every few minutes.

"Gordon won't give up," Dean said. "I think we should try to get Vicky and Opium out of here. Gordon can finish the job and kill Lusing while we get the hell of the dodge. Tonight was far too close, and you know it."

"Yeah," Sam muttered, nodding. "But will Vicky go for it? Will she want to leave?"

"The question is, does she want to live?" Dean retorted. "We'll give her the facts straight. She can decide what to do."

Sam groaned suddenly, and Dean looked at him again. "What?"

"I've just realized," Sam muttered. "We can't go back to Vicky's. If Lusing could find Opium, he'll be able to find us. And now that he's not on our side, I'd say we have good reason to think that he'll be after our blood."

"Yeah, right," Dean said, sighing heavily. "Okay. We'll go to one of the motels in town. Maybe all the different smells will mask us for a while."

"Hopefully," Sam said. "You'd better call Vicky again. Tell her to pick up anything we might need from her house."

Dean shot him a glare. "Yes, sir," he muttered, reaching for his mobile.

Sam managed a small smile. Dean was clearly irritated about not being in the driver's seat. Sam glanced at Opium again in the rear view mirror. Hopefully drinking some of Gordon's blood had helped him, but he was clearly still suffering from the treatment he had recieved. Sam wondered if the vampire had told Gordon anything... he liked to think that Opium would have kept his mouth shut no matter what, but how would he know how easily the vampire would break under Gordon's pressure? Hell, Sam didn't know if he himself could have held out for long, or even Dean. He wanted to ask... but now wasn't the time. It could wait.

They rounded the corner and a motel sign came into sight at the end of the road. Sam felt a rush of relief and accelerated. Dean, who was just lowering his mobile having spoken to Vicky, glanced at him.

"Is this far away enough?"

Sam nodded. "It'll have to do. We can't just drive all night with..." his voice trailed off and he nodded towards the back seat.

"Okay," Dean sighed. He fingered the bloody gash on his bruised cheek. "You think they have ice?"

"I'll go," Sam said as they pulled into the parking lot. "Give me your card."

"You?" Dean arched one eyebrow. "What about your face?"

Sam's hand leapt to the gash the bullet had left as it clipped his face. Then he scowled. "Well, what about yours? You look a hell of a lot worse than me."

Dean hesitated and then nodded and reached for his wallet. He pulled out one of his credit cards and passed it to Sam. Sam made to get out of the car.

"Wait!" Dean hissed, throwing out a hand. "Sam, your shirt!"

Sam looked down. Opium's blood was smeared across his shirt. Scowling, Dean pulled off his jacket and shoved it at Sam, who pulled it on and zipped it up to hide the bloodstains.

"Get your head straight, will you?" Dean muttered.

Sam grinned and climbed out of the car. He strode over to the main office and pushed the door open, heading over to the front desk. He hesitated as he reached it - would Opium and Vicky prefer to have a room of their own? - but it was certainly safer to remain together. Instead, he asked for a single room. The most space they had free had two beds and a fold-out sofa bed. Sam took it; he couldn't afford to be picky with a semi-conscious, bleeding vampire in the back of their car. He took the key and then moved back towards the Impala.

Dean had climbed out of the car and was crouched beside the open back door, speaking quietly to Opium. Opium's eyes were glazed and half-open, staring blindly into space. His breaths wheezed loudly in and out of his lungs and new blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth again. Dean straightened up and shut the door softly as Sam returned. Sam gestured towards the end of the block of rooms and they both stepped into the Impala.

"He's not looking good," Dean murmured under his breath as Sam guided the Impala down to their room. "Vicky's on her way."

Sam glanced over his shoulder, biting his lip. He hoped Vicky would get to them soon. He stopped the Impala outside their room and got out, looking back over his shoulder to speak to Dean as his brother got out of the car on the other side.

"You wanna take fang-boy, or should I?" Dean asked, glancing down at the back seat.

"I'll get him," Sam replied. "You take the stuff."

He pulled open the back door as Dean headed for the trunk. Sam bent down, putting a hand on Opium's shoulder and shaking him.

"Opium? Sorry, man, I've gotta get you up now. We're going inside."

Opium blinked slowly. There was no sign that he had understood Sam, or could even see him. Sam sighed and then reached into the car to hook his arms beneath the vampire's shoulders. He dragged the vampire backwards out of the car. Opium's legs buckled beneath him as Sam set him down on the hard carpark, and Sam hurriedly supported the vampire over his shoulder. Opium gasped with pain and his hand closed tightly over Sam's wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Sorry, sorry!" Sam hissed quickly, holding Opium tightly. He began to struggle towards the motel room, Opium a dead weight at his side. Any strength he had gained from Gordon's blood seemed to have vanished quickly.

Dean appeared at the door as Sam reached it and Sam passed him the key awkwardly. Dean, bags hung over his shoulders and arm, wrestled the door open and then stood back to let them in before following. Sam shuffled inside and let Opium down on the bed against the far wall. Opium growled softly, but made no other response. Sam strode over to the windows and pulled the curtains shut, hiding them from prying eyes. He turned back towards Dean, who was rooting around in one of their duffel bags.

"Okay," Sam said, taking a deep breath and moving over to stand beside the table on which Dean was placing their belongings. "Christ... so, what are we supposed to do now?"

"Set out some salt lines," Dean replied, his eyes on the bag. "And garlic."

"Garlic?" Sam repeated. "I thought that was a myth?"

"The myth got a little muddled," Dean said. "Its the smell that'll sheild us from them. Something about garlic affects vampire's senses almost as badly as it does human sense's - they just can't get past it. At least not for a good while anyway. As long as we keep our heads down we should be fine for a few days."

"What about Gordon? He's going to know about this stuff, and he won't give up easily," Sam replied. "As soon as Opium is fully conscious again, we should get out of town."

"Yeah, but until then, we don't have much choice," Dean muttered. "You know I would be out of here five minutes ago if you would just dump the fangs, but you won't so we'll just have to stay."

Sam smiled wryly. "Alright, alright. Where's the first aid kit?"

"Ah," Dean said, pulling it out of the bag at last and holding it out. Sam reached out to take the box but before he could do so there was a loud rap at the door and he stopped. His hand flew to his gun. Dean shot him a warning glance and then stepped up to the door. He pulled it open a crack, his own gun cocked, and then relaxed and opened it wide.

Vicky stepped inside, her face pale with fear. She had a large rucksack on her back, which she deposited carelessly on the floor. She looked around, opening her mouth, and then noticed Opium and anything she had been about to say vanished from her mind. She lurched forwards, falling to her knees beside him.

"Opium," she gasped, laying her hand on his bloody chest. "Oh my god... Opium? Can you hear me?"

She placed her other hand on the side of his face and he rolled his head towards her, moaning weakly. Sam looked away, feeling as if he were intruding on something private. Dean had busied himself with his bag, even though Sam could see that he was watching the pair silently out of the corner of his eye. Vicky looked up suddenly, tears spilling freely from her eyes and down her cheeks.

"How bad is it?" she demanded, her voice trembling wildly.

Sam looked quickly at Dean, who was convieniently busy with checking his gun. Taking a deep breath, Sam stepped forwards, the first aid box held tightly in his hands as if it would somehow help him to explain.

"I'm not really sure... Gordon's been using dead man's blood, which basically makes vampires sick."

"And all this?" Vicky asked shrilly, gesturing at the bloody pentagram. "What about this?"

"That should heal as soon as the effects of the dead man's blood wear off. It might take quite a while since... well..." He swallowed hard. He crouched down beside her, opening the first aid box. "I'll clear the blood up and then-"

"I'll do it," Vicky said harshly, snatching the box from him. She began to dab carefully at the blood, tears still streaming down her face. Sam hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder, offering sympathy. She gave a short nod, and he retreated.

"So," Dean said quietly to him as Sam reached him. "How much do you think Gordon got out of him?"

"I don't know," Sam replied. "I mean, there's very little he can give away about us. I think Lusing is the one who has something to worry about now."

"Not a bad thing," Dean growled.

Sam looked at him. "I meant to ask, what happened? Where did he go?"

"Bastard deserted me," Dean spat. "He just cleared off, him and his fanged pals, and left me with Gordon."

Sam gestured at one of the table chairs. "Sit down." And then, when Dean raised his eyebrows, "Someone needs to look at your face."

Dean sat down. Sam pulled their second smaller first aid box from the depths of his bag and began to search for butterfly bandages and antiseptic.

"Lusing will be after us now," Dean muttered. "I mean, now that its kill or be killed, you know? Now we're stuck with both of them on our tail."

"Yeah, well," Sam said. "We'll survive. We always do."

Dean snorted. "Right."

"It all depends on how much Lusing knows," Sam said. "And on how much Opium told in the first place. If he said anything, that is. He might have held out. He's pretty tough..."

"I don't know," Dean muttered. "I mean, this is Gordon, you know? He would go all the way... he's lucky to be alive now."

Sam opened his mouth to respond when another voice spoke, cracked and weak but silencing them all despite it. Sam and Dean twisted around in their chairs to watch as Opium rolled his head towards them.

"I... told him," Opium rasped. "About... Ha-Hathway... about Lusing..."

"Hathway?" Dean repeated.

Opium closed his eyes, breathing hard through clenched teeth. Vicky gripped his hand, glancing back at them.

"Hathway Street," she said. "That's Lusing's back-up hideout. That's where Lusing is now."

Not much happened in this chapter I know, but I felt that it was about time for an update. Hope you enjoyed it. Please REVIEW!!

SUPRNTRAL LVR.