Walking Just to Stumble

Chapter 10

The sound of his father…or Bobby pressing a knife through something – or someone, caused Sam to stumble back a few steps and land on what he assumed to be a pipe. One of the many. The truth was, he figured there were enough pipes in the warehouse for ten boiler rooms. Luckily enough for him though, this particular duct was damp, not hot.

"Sam." John was sure that if he just lipped his son's name, he would be able to hear him. That was how the blindness worked. "You've got to stay here." Sam nodded. He'd always been the one to revolt against his father's commands; this time, with all of their lives at stake, he'd commit.

John was satisfied; Sam was staying put and leaning on his crutch. A cane sounded too old – a poking or walking stick sounded way too inappropriate in Sam's opinion.

He began moving forward silently, inch by inch getting more entangled in the maze of pipes. His thoughts began pressing at him…Sam was blind – that was unfixable. That was, currently, his smallest problem. He had to find and kill Gordon – he had to rescue Dean. He had to make sure both of his boys made it out of the warehouse safely – Bobby and him dead or not. Those were his orders, his mission. There was a reason the demon didn't take his life at the hospital; the yellow-eyed-thing already knew what hell was coming in the future.

And then, what seemed like just seconds later, they were there. The room was lighted by one flickering bulb and dozens of melting candles spread around a chair. The chair. John felt his heart race, yet his breath slowed down immeasurably. Dean was slouched in the chair, looking beyond death. His son was beaten, gagged, bruised, and bleeding. Gordon's back was to them – facing Dean while holding a book and muttering things under his breath.

"It's a spell." The words Bobby whispered in his ear sent chills up and down his body, through his heart. He knew what it was – his brain was just incapable of processing anything at the given moment. He found himself unable to move. Maybe that was what the spell was doing. Maybe Gordon already knew they were there.

Handing Sam to him…

Watching him run out of the house…

Watching him in a coma…

Suddenly, and for the briefest of seconds, John found himself staring into his older boy's eyes – and then it was gone. Dean was still slouched over in the chair; yet John was able to move along side Bobby and sneak up to Gordon. They were walking up so easily; their weapons raised – too easily, in fact.

"Stop it right there, John." The sound of a book closing – the spell book – thundered in his ears as Gordon turned around.

"So you think you can kill me that easily?"

"Why the hell wouldn't we?" Bobby clutched his gun a little tighter – glared a little harder into their enemy's eyes. "We killed James easily. Why not you?"

"Because of the spell I'm putting on Dean." Gordon hissed his last sentence and then grinned. "Just like the one I put on Sam."

"Why?" John's voice broke.

"Why not?" Gordon began pacing back and forth around Dean – around the candles – around them. "Sam's going evil. The blindness was the easiest thing. Throw some tainted water on him and: bam! His eyes burst. And trust me, it's slowing him down."

"And Dean?"

"I could've just let it be, but Dean—" Gordon stopped to look at his captive for a second. "Well, the man wouldn't have stopped until he killed me. He'd risk his life for that evil-sonnova-bitch he calls his brother. Wait until Sam just turns on him."

John took a step forward, aiming his weapon higher. "Sam won't."

Gordon snickered. "Give it time, Winchester. Give it time."

"I have. I've given it twenty-three years and he's still good. And there is no way in hell now that I'm going to turn against my own son."

"Then you're gonna die."

"I'll go down good."

"You see-" For a split second, John caught Gordon frowning. "You would risk your life any day now for Dean." The man continued on pacing. "But you're not entirely sure if you'd risk your life for Sam."

"I would risk it any and every day for both of my children."

"If you'd die for them…why aren't you killing me for them?" Once again, Gordon came to an abrupt stop. Other then a spell book and a knife in his boot, he had no source of weaponry. He was an open target with two guns pointed at him. He should've been dead minutes ago.

"Because I like a fair fight."

"No. In truth, James wasn't a fair fight – but you had no other choice. He was coming for you. I'm not. We're standing here, talking. Human to human. Which you are completely terrified of killing."

"If you enjoy this—" John nodded his head towards Dean. "You're no human." And with that, he pulled the trigger and killed Gordon.

The second the gunshot sounded, Sam felt the walls – or threads of pipe closing in on him with every living breath.

It couldn't have been Dean or his father. It couldn't have been Bobby. It had to be Gordon. They had to have killed Gordon.

Yet when the first gunshot went off, many more followed. So many more that Sam had lost count. He was getting sick, nauseous, and his head was pounding like never before.

What he was experiencing now, it seemed, was worse then any vision he'd ever experienced. With a gasp, he realized he'd fallen to the ground. The pounding was getting worse, and deeper, it seemed. Colors – actual colors were beginning to race through his brain – making his eyes burn. Everything was building up – and then it all crashed down to a stop. Sam passed out.

A/N: To everyone, I'm so sorry about the wait! I promise you I had it done – I just never got around to logging on and actually posting it. The epilogue is coming soon – and that will be the end of this set! To all of my readers and reviewers, thank you so much! It really does make my day. And thanks to Wild Wolf Free17 for beta'ing this and putting up with me.