Replacing four tires in a small town like this wasn't easy Victor guessed and he wasn't surprised when an hour later there was still no sign of Gerry's truck. He tried to avoid thinking of the possibility that the shifter or the sheriff had something to do with their delay.

By now it was completely dark and Victor had nothing to do than to sit there lost in his thoughts while he strained is ears to catch any sound beside Sam's soft snoring. The wind whispered in the trees and he thought he heard little animals in the underwoods, but that could just be his overactive imagination.

What he could not dismiss as imaginary was his bladder. Over the last half an hour its demand for attention grew more urgent by the minute.

"Sam?" Victor asked not sure if he really wanted to wake up the other man. But leaving the car without letting him know wasn't that good of an idea either.

"Sam." Victor shook Sam's shoulder and hoped that he didn't cause further pain.

Sam smacked his lips and mumbled something which could be a "What?".

"I'll step out for a second." Victor informed him. "Gonna take a leak."

"Okay." Sam nodded but his eyes fell close again.

Checking his gun – and yes, this time he had the right bullets – Victor took a deep breath and got out of the car. In the dark with nobody around but a sleeping Sam and maybe a some mice Victor just stepped around the rear end of the car to do his business.

All senses on high alert he hurried to get back in the car. With the trees blocking the already poor light he couldn't see farther than his outstretched hand and he had that feeling of being watched which he couldn't shake off.

And still, the figure jumping him from behind got him by surprise.

"Hi, Viccy." A voice right next to his ear said. Victor had never really heard his own voice like that but he recognized it immediately. With one arm across his chest and a knife at Victor's throat the shifter had him good. And he was pulling him away from the car. Away from Sam.

"Shh. Don't wanna wake Sammy boy, don't you?" Victor couldn't see his face but he could clearly tell the other one was grinning, close to giggling actually and wasn't that disturbing? He hadn't giggled since he had been five.

"What do you want?" Victor asked and winced when the blade broke his skin. Not deep but he felt some wetness on his throat.

"Had a sweet setup here." The shifter said. "Really nice. Then a hunter was on my tail. And then you came along with Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

Step by step the shifter dragged him deeper into the woods.

"You know." The shifter continued to whisper in his ear. "Normal bullets can't kill me but I gonna tell you this, it still hurts like a bitch to get perforated. Making you wish you could die from it."

The grip across his chest loosened and Victor tensed up to make a break for it but then he got hit in the side. With a little upwards drift the fist landed right under his ribcage. It knocked the wind out of him. Victor buckled and with a grunt he landed on his knees.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Victor panted holding his side. It wasn't that bad but the shifter didn't have to know that.

Play it low, he thought. A little weak, defeated and maybe, just maybe …

"I'm not going to kill you." The shifter said. In one hand he was still holding the knife, the blade caught the poor light from the stars, and in the other one he had Victor's gun.

Must have snatched it when I went down, Victor guessed. Sneaky bastard.

"You are going to sit tight while I'll go back to sleepy Sammy over there." The shifter grinned down at him. "The brothers know each other too well to fool them for long but do they know you that well? What do you think? Will Sam figure it out before I cut his throat?"

Keeping an eye on the muzzle of the gun Victor got into a crouched position. With his hands on the ground he kept his balance. Pine-needles bit him in the skin of his palms but he didn't dare to stand up. Or shout for help. Sam would hear him, that was for sure. But he also would hear the gun shot which would kill Victor the next second.

"Let's find a nice place where you can sit out all the action while I deal with your friends." He waved the gun. "Don't worry, I'll let the sheriff know where you are before I skip this town. Get up."

Now or never. Like a spring Victor shot up throwing a handful of pine-needles in the shifter's face.

With a surprised scream the shifter tried to cover his face with both hands and Victor didn't wait for him to get his bearings. He barreled into him and they both went down. Gun and knife clattered away but Victor didn't dare going after them.

It was too dark to actually see the face he was pummeling but Victor felt bone crushing under his punches and wetness on his split knuckles. The thing under him buckled and tried to throw him off but Victor hold his position for a few seconds longer.

Finding an opening the shifter hit back and together they rolled over the ground. Now Victor lay on his back with a dark figure sitting on his chest. Against the sky he could only make out the silhouette and a faint glint in the thing's eyes. Then everything exploded into stars when its fist connected with his temple.

The shifter had Victor's arms pinned down with his knees so there was no covering his head when one blow landed after the other. Victor tasted blood.

Searching frantically for something to help him his fingers brushed through dry leaves and pine-needles. No branch, no rock, no nothing.

"You are a pain in my ass, you know that?" The shifter finally stopped punching him in the face. He stood up and kicked Victor in the side so that he rolled over. Hanging to consciousness only by his fingertips Victor wasn't a threat any more and they both knew it.

"You should have stayed with the FBI." He sounded congested maybe from a broken nose. Victor would have grinned if his face hadn't been a mess. And something poked him in the stomach.

"Maybe Foster would still be alive." The shifter thought loud. "And Mommy dearest wouldn't have to deal with the fact that her son is a cold-blooded killer. Three people already down and three to go, how could you?" The shifter mocked him. "You know what's keeping Dean and your girlfriend? Sicked the sheriff on their asses. They'll be busy for a while but don't worry Dean'll sweet talk his way out of that. Too late to save his brother, though. I'll let him live just long enough to realize little Sammy is dead. Oh boy, that'll be fun."

Victor wasn't really listening. He was more focused on the thing poking him in the stomach.

"They will kill you." Victor croaked out and fumbled for that thing. His fingers found the handle of his gun.

"They won't even know what hit them." The shifter moved a few steps farther away and picked something up.

The knife, Victor guessed. However, that didn't matter anymore.

"Neither will you." Victor emptied the whole clip into the thing.