Ben's own footsteps echoed in the passageway and up the stone steps. He reached the head of the tunnel, panting – there was no sign of the ghoul. His adrenaline levels dropped off, and the burning sensation between his ribs was nagging for his attention. A reasonable amount of blood was staining the side of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, so he tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his t-shirt, which was already ripped, tying it tightly around his waist and letting his shirt drop back into place. He tried not to imagine what sort of things lived under ghouls' fingernails. Still breathing hard, Ben prowled the back and front of the tomb entrance cautiously. Nothing.

'God damn it', Ben blew out his breath and raked his hand through his hair. Very briefly he considered lying to Adam, telling him he'd slaughtered the thing. But then Adam would want to see the body, maybe sink a couple of bullets in it for good measure. It wouldn't do. Besides, Adam of all people knew hunting didn't always turn out like an action movie.

"Ben?" Tracer's voice came up the passage behind him, followed by Tracer herself. A long, angry scratch ran the side of her face and her jacket was torn, but she looked in one piece, more or less.

"Got away," Ben admitted.

"Happens to the best of us," Tracer clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, we need to get David to a hospital. He's lost a lot of blood, and seems to have a pretty bad concussion."

"The cops will be all over this."

"Tell me about it." A flash of moonlight revealed that Tracer's light-blue eyes were grim. "I'm thinking we should head on north to Kiowa – it'll only take a few more minutes than back to Elbert, and at least we won't have the local ones to deal with. You coming?"

"Is Adam?"

Tracer nodded.

"Then I will too," Ben said.

David was conscious, but barely, by the time they got him to the Explorer:

"My car's a little conspicuous round here," said Tracer apologetically. Ben drove, and Tracer sat next to him in the front passenger – Adam sat with David in the back and spoke to him quietly. Ben tried not to glance in the rearview mirror too often. Within the hour, he found himself in a hospital waiting room, his side cleaned and patched up with gauze. David had been taken into a back room, and Adam had gone with him. Tracer was sitting next to Ben, her legs crossed, writing something in a notepad.

"Well, we got three," Tracer said, putting the notepad away in her bag.

"Yeah," Ben acknowledged.

"So...is Adam going to be okay?"

"I don't know," said Ben honestly. "His – his mother was killed by ghouls."

"I sort of gathered that."

"He's never been the type to – I mean, he's not angry, you know? I've always been the fucked-up one in this
relationship." He half-smiled.

"You don't seem particularly fucked-up to me - as hunters go. And believe me, I've met some," Tracer
grimaced.

"So...was it hunters who trashed your old house, do you think?"

"I doubt it. They would've taken the books. It was these things – when they sprayed 'killers' I assume they
were referring to my family's history."

"Oh." Ben looked down at his hands. At that moment, the double doors in front of them opened, and Adam reappeared – he had cleaned up, but the lines of his face were still grim and distant.

"They're keeping David in at least 24 hours," he said, before anyone could ask him. "He'll be alright."

"Are youalright?" Ben wanted to touch Adam, but this was a small town, and he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention. Adam just looked at him.

"Let's find a place here we can get some sleep, okay?" Ben tried.

"Me, too," said Tracer: "I'll go back for the car later."

Adam nodded, and all three of them made their way to a small motel practically attached to the hospital – Ben guessed a lot of visitors didn't go too far. The desk clerk didn't bat an eyelid when they asked for a double and a single – probably assumed that Tracer and one of the boys were a couple. The second Ben and Adam were alone, Ben sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have caught it."

"It's not your fault," said Adam, and he sighed heavily, sagged against Ben. Ben manoeuvred until they were both lying down. He faced Adam. Adam looked at the ceiling.

"We could…" Ben wasn't sure what was offering. "We could go after it? The one that got away?"

Pause.

"No," said Adam suddenly, and turned to face Ben. "Let it go. I don't want a war with these things."

"You – don't?"

"No. I kill this one, they send another one, maybe after you….I kill that one, maybe they send something after Bobby." Adam shrugged. "Where does it end? Maybe it's better when hunting doesn't get – personal. Vendettas are always dangerous. Let it go."

Ben fell silent. He remembered the thirst for revenge, the terror, when the demon that had killed his family was still alive. But in truth, if he wanted to feel hatred and terror, he could summon them up just as easily now that the thing was dead. He still had random nightmares. The demon's death hadn't ended anything. It just...became less, with time.

"I understand," he said quietly. Adam turned over and faced the wall. Ben didn't hear his breathing even for a long time.

In the morning, Ben stayed behind to pack up their stuff whilst Adam and Tracer collected David from the hospital. Clean white dressings stood out stark against his olive skin, presumably covering stitches in his left temple. A small amount of his hair had been shaved. He held himself carefully and looked pale, but reasonably intact. Ben watched Adam's interactions with him closely. They moved like two people entirely familiar with each other, Adam watching closely and ready to offer David an arm if he needed it, occasionally sharing a wry glance or knowing look with each other. There was no heat. Ben felt not so much jealous, as lonely, and immature – he missed the imaginary Dean in his head, the one who had known everything.

"So – thanks for – all your help," David shook Ben's hand awkwardly. "If you ever need extra backup for anything... Adam has my number. I mean I guess you're not too impressed right now, but normally I'm a reasonably competent hunter."

Ben nodded. "No problem. And yeah – you were outnumbered."

"Can we hit the road?" Tracer asked, holding up her keys.

"Let's do it," David said. "I'm...looking forward to sitting down."

To his surprise, Ben found himself smiling. When he wasn't being arrogant, David was actually pretty likeable. Adam didn't smile, but the anger he'd been wearing like a suit of armour for the past week had dissipated.

"Are you really okay?" Ben asked him that night, as they packed their bags into the Explorer again, facing north for South Dakota.

"Are you gonna keep asking me that?" Adam gave him a wry look.

"Yeah."

"I will be okay. And I want to drive."

Ben handed him the keys.

TBC.