A.N.: This chapter is unbeta'ed, so you've been warned ;)Should you find any major mistakes, feel free to point them out :)


Impatiently, Dean drummed his fingers on the table, quietly humming Metallica to calm his nerves.

For almost two hours they had been waiting for the Hrian to show up. And nothing. There was no sign of this freaking creature. They hadn't even heard any strange noises coming from outside that might have announced its arrival.

Dean had spend most of the last two hours watching his brother. Sam didn't look good, his skin was pale and clammy and he was obviously freezing as he kept pulling his jacket tightly around himself. He had nodded off a while ago; every now and then his head would jerk up and he'd blink at Dean with exhausted eyes. A moment later they'd fall close again.

Sam was sick, really sick and Dean didn't know what to do. Despite the antibiotics he was feeding him, his condition was getting worse and he just kept getting weaker. And Dean was afraid that the infection was spreading while they were sitting here doing nothing but wait.

Wait for a creature that for all they knew might never show up.

Dean didn't think that they had done something wrong. Sam had found the right spell and had had everything prepared when Dean had returned. And the older Winchester never doubted his brother when it came to research and all things connected.

But why was the Hrian not coming? They had summoned it, so what was keeping it? As a rule, a creature had to appear when it was summoned, so why wasn't this one?

Dean hated it when the bad guys didn't play by the rules.

He focused his attention back on Sam; he had started shivering and small trembles racked his body every few seconds. Cursing under his breath, Dean got up to get a blanket from the bed to keep Sam warm. He had his back to the door for just one short moment, but that was all it took. Before his hand had even reached the blanket, he felt something pulling at his jacket and the next moment he was flying through the air.

With a loud bang, Dean crashed into one of the closets on the other side of the room. The impact was so hard that all air was forced out of his lungs. He felt dazed and saw black dots dancing in front of his eyes; for a moment he was afraid he would lose consciousness. But he couldn't because something was in the room and Sam was on his own and not in the condition to defend himself.

Dean forced himself to stay awake and after a moment he became aware enough to take in the situation. He was lying in the remains of what must have been a closet, a big splinter stuck in his arm. Without hesitating, he pulled it out, ignoring the short increase of pain that this motion caused. His eyes scanned the room, his heart skipping a beat once he saw what was happening.

The Hrian was looming over a most likely still sleeping Sam, blocking most of his body from Dean's sight.

"Sam, watch out!" Dean yelled.

He saw parts of Sam's body moving and knew that his brother must have woken up. A moment later, Dean saw one of the Hrian's claws reach for his brother's chest. Sam screamed in agony, a sound that send waves of chills down Dean's spine.

Not paying any attention to his bruised body, Dean jumped up, reached for his gun and launched himself at the Hrian. Knowing that the bullets wouldn't stop the creature, he used it to slam it into the Hrian's head, again and again. The creature didn't even blink. It continued pinning Sam down on the ground, its claw pressing on his chest. A blue light started shimmering between Sam and the Hrian. Dean saw his brother's eyes roll back and he knew that he didn't have much time left. Determined to get the creature away from his brother, to save Sam!, Dean pulled at the Hrian's arm with as much force as possible. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to free Sam from the Hrian, but the creature's claw had had such a tight grip on his brother that it ripped open Sam's shirt and parts of his chest, eliciting another scream from his brother. The wound started bleeding immediately and out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam reaching for his chest.

"Sam!" He called, needing reassurance that his brother was still lucid enough to know what was going on around him. At the same time he pulled the Hrian to Leonard Parker's body; the light was still shimmering around the creature's pawn and before the Hrian could stop it, Dean had attached it with the dead man's chest. Immediately the light's color changed to a dark gray. The Hrian let out an unearthly scream, so loud that Dean was sure his eardrum would burst. He pressed his free hand over one of his ears, gritting his teeth as the loud scream became close to unbearable.

And then, as soon as it has started, the scream subsided and a heavy silence fell over the room. Time seemed to stand still for a moment; Dean just stared at the Hrian, still pressing its pawn on the body's chest, when all of a sudden the Hrian burst into flames.

"Whoa!" Dean jumped back from the burning creature, his eyes widening in horror when he saw the flames quickly overlapping on the nearby furniture. A few moments later half the cabin was already on fire.

Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him out of the cabin, not stopping nor letting go of Sam until they were several feet away from the burning cottage. Panting heavily, he sat down on the ground next to Sam, staring at the flames.

"Burn to hell, you son of a bitch!" He growled.

A moan from his brother immediately brought his attention back to Sam.

"Come on, wake up, bro." Dean leaned over his brother and gently patted his cheeks to coerce him back to awareness.

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Dean with dazed, exhausted eyes.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean smiled at his brother, worry shining through in his eyes.

"My … heart …" Sam mumbled, the words sounding slurred and his hand weakly going for his chest.

"It's still there, Sammy. It's still there." Dean gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then gave Sam's chest a closer look.

There were three long, deep cuts going from one side to the other, still bleeding. Sam's breaths were coming in quick gasps and Dean was afraid that he was going into shock.

"You have to calm down, Sammy, you hear me? Everything's going to be okay. It's okay." He cupped Sam's face with his hands and forced his brother to look at him, to focus on him and forget about his pain. "I'll get you out of here, all right?"

A small smile played on his lips when he saw Sam nodding weakly, his eyes closing again. His breathing visibly calmed, not enough to fully satisfy Dean, but it was a start. He looked around himself, searching the ground for anything he could use to help Sam. He wished he had had the sense to grab his duffel bag on the way out; then he'd at least had the med kit now. As it was, he had nothing to take care of Sam's wounds.

Cursing under his breath, Dean took off his jacket, followed by his shirt. He then removed Sam's jacket and pulled his own shirt over Sam's shredded one. Sam winced when the cloth came into contact with his wounds.

"Sorry, Sammy." Dean mumbled. He took on his jacket again and then carefully pulled Sam up to a sitting position.

Sam's head rolled down to the side and he leaned heavily against his brother. His skin felt as if it was burning and small shivers kept racking his body.

"You just have to hang on a little bit further, Sammy." Dean said quietly.

Sam gave a weak nod; it was all Dean needed. He wrapped his brother's arm around his shoulder and carefully pulled them both up. They had only walked a few steps though, when Sam's legs gave in and he slumped down. Dean managed to slow his fall, but they still both ended up on the ground.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed. "Sammy, you're all right?"

Sam didn't reply, instead he just lay motionlessly on the ground, his shallow breath the only sign that he was still alive. A wave of despair rolled over Dean as he realized that Sam had lost consciousness – and it didn't seem like he would wake up again anytime soon. Which meant that he wouldn't be able to walk on his own and carrying him all the way would take more time – time that his brother might not have anymore.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment; chastising himself for even thinking like that. A Winchester didn't give in so easily. And he certainly wouldn't be defeated by something with the name Boobooshaw.

Taking a deep breath, Dean pushed his fears to the back of his mind. He'd have time to worry later. Now he just had to concentrate on getting Sammy out of here.

With new determination, he pulled Sam up and draped his motionless body over his shoulder. Groaning he got up and started walking in the direction he hoped to find the car in.

XXXXXXX

"I swear, when this is over, I'm so putting you on a diet." Dean growled as he carefully placed his brother's lanky form on the ground. He couldn't go on anymore. For three hours he had carried Sam through the forest; his back was hurting, his legs felt like rubber gum and he simply couldn't take one more step.

With a heavy sigh, Dean slumped down next to his brother, his back leaning against a tree. His throat felt dry and he'd give anything for a mouthful of water. It took him a few minutes to catch his breath and he wished he could just close his eyes and sleep for the next 24 hours.

But Sam's condition continued to get worse; he hadn't regained consciousness once since they had left Elena's cottage behind; the shivers had increased, the chest wound kept starting to bleed over and over again and Dean knew that he was running out of time.

Sleep wasn't an option. Taking a break wasn't an option, but Dean simply needed this one moment of rest right now.

He glanced at his unconscious brother, taking in every breath Sam was taking. His breathing sounded weak and Dean wished that Sam would wake up for just one moment, just so that he could be sure that there was still time. But his brother kept lying motionless on the ground, his eyes never opening.

Dean took a deep breath, readying himself to keep going, when he noticed a burned scent in the air.

"What the hell …" He mumbled.

Frowning, he got up and walked a few steps towards where the scent was coming from; he didn't dare moving too far away from Sam, but he also wanted to find out what was going on. He didn't need to go far though; he had just left Sam behind him a few steps when he saw the burned ruins of a small cabin appearing behind some trees.

It didn't take him long to recognize the cottage - he and Sam had just left it behind three hours ago.

"You've got to be freakin' kidding me!" Dean yelled out his frustration. He quickly turned around to return to Sam – and stopped in his tracks when he saw an old woman standing next to his brother.

"Elena." Dean breathed out between gritted teeth, his hand immediately going for the gun hidden in his waistband.

"You didn't really think I'd just let you go, did you?" She asked in a hoarse voice.

"Look, I'm sorry about your house burning down, but I think you might want to blame your little pet for that one. We were just trying to get out of there alive." Dean said, anger dripping from his voice. His hand tightened around his gun. "Now get away from my brother!"

"You killed it. This creature was my only way to make these people pay for what they did to my son." Elena hissed in reply.

"Yeah, well, Sam and I had nothing to do with your son's death, so just let us go. We're done here. For all I care, you can go your way and we go …. Arrgghh!" Screaming, Dean clutched at his stomach, an excruciating pain lancing through his upper body. Panting, he fell down on his knees, his eyes immediately going for his brother.

Sam was still lying on the ground, apparently unharmed by Elena so far. The older Winchester tried to get up, to get between his brother and the witch somehow, but the moment he moved to a standing position, the pain intensified. Letting out another scream, Dean sunk back down on his knees.

"You're going to pay for what you did." Elena's voice reached his ear from nearby; it took Dean a moment to notice that she was looming over him.

Realizing that this might be his only chance, Dean pushed all thoughts of pain to the back of his mind. It took all his willpower to remove his right hand from his stomach and reach for the knife in his boot; he had just reached it when Elena's hand went for his throat, choking him. Gasping for air, Dean's hand tightened around the weapon. He managed to pull it out when black dots started dancing in front of his eyes. He forced himself to focus on the unconscious form of his brother, taking strength out of the sight - if he gave in now, Sam would die.

Collecting all the strength he could muster, Dean pulled out the knife fast enough so Elena wouldn't notice; a moment later he rammed it into her thigh, the only part of her body he could reach from his position.

With a scream, Elena let go of Dean, stumbling a few steps back. Dean took his chance, grabbed his gun and immediately started firing shots at her. He hit her full square in the chest, pulling the trigger until there were no bullets left.

"Die, bitch!"

Coughing, Dean stumbled towards her, holding onto a tree to steady himself. His hand automatically wiped over his mouth; he frowned when he saw blood smeared on the back of his hand. He tried not to put too much thought into that as he knelt down next to the witch. He needed to make sure that she was really dead this time. Suppressing another cough, he searched for her pulse. There wasn't one.

It was then that Dean allowed himself to give into the pain for a moment. He slumped down on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest as if to protect his hurting stomach; whatever Elena had done to him it still hurt like hell and it made breathing a lot more difficult than it should be. Breathing heavily, he lay on the ground in a near fetal position for several minutes, until he was able to once more push back the pain. He crawled over to his brother and gave him a quick check over to make sure that his condition hadn't gotten worse. Sam was still breathing and that alone was all the relief Dean needed at the moment.

"Okay, bro, let's keep going …" Dean breathed out between gritted teeth. He draped Sam's arm around his shoulder to pull him up, but he wasn't even standing half upright, when another white hot pain lanced through his stomach. Dean doubled over in pain, accidentally letting go of his brother who slid down next to him on the ground. Breathing heavily, Dean stared exasperated at Sam; this couldn't be happening. Dean did his best to ignore the pain and once again tried to pull Sam and himself up to a standing position – and again he broke down before he really stood upright.

"No. No, no, no, no …" Frustrated, Dean punched the tree next to him hard, welcoming the pain the motion elicited. Tears stung in his eyes; caused by the pain from whatever wounds Elena had caused in him and from the realization that he wouldn't be able to get Sam out of here. A wave of despair rolled over him.

"I'm sorry, Sammy …" He whispered. "I'm sorry."

He pulled out his cell phone, hoping against all hope that maybe, somehow he might get a connection out here.

There was none.

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the tree he was leaning against, ready to give in to the darkness that was threatening to pull him down. It would be so easy to just give in now, to escape the pain, to not having to witness his brother die.

"Watch out for your brother!"

Dean's eyes snapped open.

"Damn." Dean cursed under his breath. He couldn't even give up without his father interfering. "Fine, let's do this again." He grumbled.

Taking a deep breath, Dean draped Sam's arm around his shoulder again and once more tried to pull them both up to a standing position. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and forced down the dizziness that hit him.

He managed to stand upright this time, leaning against the tree trunk and using all his strength to keep Sam from falling back down on the ground and concentrating on making the first step.

"Okay, right … That's not so difficult." He swallowed tightly and then pushed himself away from the tree. He managed two steps before his legs gave in and he found himself and Sam back on the ground again. "Fck!"

Frustrated, Dean slammed his fist on the ground. "Sammy, if there was ever a time I needed you to be awake, it would be right about now." He muttered in despair.

He never got a response from his brother. Instead he heard something else.

"Lars! Kent! Can you hear us? Lars?"

Dean let out a relieved breath. "About time." He mumbled. "We're here! Hey! We're here!" He called out loud.

He forced himself up to a sitting position, pulling Sam close to him at the same time. "It'll be okay now, Sammy." He whispered. "These morons have actually found us."

A moment later, Sheriff Clayton Parsings, followed by several other man, appeared between the trees.

"They're here. The reporters. We found them!"

Dean had never been so happy before to see a member of the police approaching him.

TBC