Chapter 21

Sam opened his eyes and his head throbbed from hitting the dresser. He could feel the wetness of the blood collecting on the side of his left temple. Already feeling a headache forming, he sighed and figured he could possibly have a concussion if he hit the dresser hard enough. His eyes tried adjusting to the darkness, scanning the room for his brother and Summer but he couldn't see past the part of the room where light from outside the mid-sized window shone on the floor. The sound of a groan caught his attention. "Dean, is that you man?"

"Who do you think it is?" Dean answered.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm ok," Dean told him. "Where's Summer?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged even though he knew Dean couldn't see him. "I hope she's ok."

"She better be or else I'm going to kill whoever did this. Who the hell was it anyway?"

"That would be me," a man's voice replied, causing them to quickly look in the direction of the voice as a light turned on, making it much easier for them to see who the voice belonged to.

"And who the hell are you? And where the hell is Summer?" Dean demanded.

"That's not important," the man said, his southern drawl was strong, they noticed. "In all due time you'll find out where she is... now that I have you, I can start what I have to do; kill you nice and slow and messy."

"Why didn't you kill us while we were out cold?" Dean asked.

"That would have been no fun. I want you awake while I kill you. I want you to see and feel the pain and the agony you experience."

"Oh, how fun," Dean rolled his eyes. "You want to feel like a big shot by having us awake while you kill us? How original is that."

"Shut up," the man ordered.

"What're you going to do if I don't?" Dean challenged.

"Dean, shut up already," Sam spoke up. "Who are you working for? The demon?"

"I work for no one. Enough with the chatter, huh…let's have the games begin, shall we?" The man then pulled out a small pocketknife he had taken out of his pant pocket and stepped aside, letting Sam and Dean see the open door as Summer walked in with someone holding her, a knife against her throat.

"Summer!" Sam called out.

"Stay away from her!" Dean yelled out, already fearing for her life. "I swear to god if you hurt her—"

"Oh, I won't be doing the hurting…" the other, rather large man stated with a smirk on his face. "She will."

"What?" Sam asked with confusion in his voice.

"She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't hurt anyone," Dean said as he watched him let go of her. "She's most likely to hurt you though."

"Are you sure about that?" the first man asked.

Both Sam and Dean watched Summer grab the knife from the man and made her way toward them, where they were tied to a beam near the wall. She locked eyes with Sam first before locking eyes with Dean.

"Sum, what are you doing?" Sam asked as his eyes followed her walking toward Dean.

Summer stood in front of Dean, the knife in her hand, her eyes seemed much darker than her usual hazel-green color. She bent down, raising her arm a bit, bringing the knife closer to his neck. She lightly slid it across his throat, the tip of the blade felt rough to the skin, as she got closer to the other side of his throat, the opposite of where she started, she pressed the knife harder to his throat, letting it make the tiniest cut, making him flinch.

"Come on, you don't want to do this," Dean said staring Summer right in the eyes, fear obviously in his eyes. She smiled a smile that made him uncomfortable. She got closer to him, grabbing a hold of his chin, holding it there.

"Are you sure I don't want to?" she asked letting go of his chin and traced her finger down his neck, to his chest and down a little further before bringing her hand back to his face. Tracing the side of his face with the knife now, she moved her hand away, and then bringing it forward again, fast, scratching his cheek with the tip of the knife, the blood quickly started to form around the cut. He winched from the blade cutting through his skin. "Because I know I'm sure I want to," she added while bringing her finger to his cheek, touching the red droplets before bringing her finger to her lips, tasting the blood. "Fresh blood… oh, how it tastes good."

"This isn't like you," Sam said. "You wouldn't do this."

"You think you know me?" she asked facing him. "You think you know what I would or wouldn't do because you've known me for what, a month?" she stepped closer to Sam, the smile returning to her lips. "Because clearly you don't know me at all," she kneeled down in front of him. She leaned in closer to him, her eyes locked with his. She could feel the fear, which caused her smile to grow wider. "Oh, you're scared… that's great," she said leaning in further, bringing her mouth to his ear. "That's what I was hoping for," she whispered, her breath feeling warm to his skin, which sent chills down his spine.

"Why—" Dean tried talking, but she cut him off almost immediately.

"Why am I doing this?" she asked turning to face him again. "Revenge," she explained as she stood back up, walked back to him, placing her feet on the outside of his legs before going down just enough to be eye level with him. "Revenge for what you two did."

"Revenge?" Dean asked confused. "Why would you want revenge? We haven't done anything to you."

"Oh, but your wrong," she told him while she leaned in toward him some more. "You remember that day you exorcised the demon out of Meg? Killing that guy in the alley? Oh, right, of course you would. You killed them both."

"How do you know about that? We never told you about that."

She grinned a little. "Oh, I know everything about that day. Even the part where the demon possessed your dad, when he nearly killed you, when Sammy shot him in the leg, and daddy begged him to kill him - to end it all, but he didn't. My favorite part; when that semi-truck hit you three."

"You're not Summer," Sam finally realized. "You're a demon."

Summer's grin grew wider. "Oh, give Sammy a cookie, he figured it out." She turned her head in his direction. "It took you long enough. I was starting to wonder if either of you would figure it out."

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"I'm another one of the other daughters of the demon you've been looking for," she told him while she looked back at Dean. "I'm going to get revenge for my sister and brother. I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to kill daddy."

Dean felt the anger building up inside him as she talked, and he noticed she felt it too, she looked even more pleased with how things were going. "You're not going to kill us. We'll kill you first," he promised.

She laughed. "Oh, I'd like to see that." She grabbed his chin again, and he tried moving his head away. "Don't fight. Give in." She leaned in and pressed her lips to his forcefully. "Too bad you won't see daylight again when I'm through with you." She then titled her head to the side, eyes locked with his. "It's a shame. Summer won't get to see daylight either. Nor will she be able to tell you how she feels about you, Dean. It's too bad you never noticed."

"Go to hell," he sneered.

"Oh, but I'm already there," she said with another grin.

"Of course, you probably live there,"

"Let's get started, huh?" the first man said with a sigh. "I'm getting bored."

Summer turned a little to face him before nodding. "Let's," she grinned standing up straight. "Have fun…" she added before she backed away from Dean.

"Don't let them do it," Dean spoke up as she headed for the door. "I know you're still in there, and I know you can hear me. Don't you let them kill us, Summer!"

Summer stopped and turned to face Dean again. "Even if she can hear you, there's nothing she can do," she handed the knife back to the first man before she walked out of the room. The two men stepped closer to Sam and Dean, holding their knives in their hands while they grinned.

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The door to the broken down warehouse opened and Summer stepped inside the large room. The sun shone through the broken window, shining on the two, letting her see the wounds and dried blood on them.

Dean slowly lifted his head up making eye contact with her, or at least tried to look at her through his right eye, but it was almost swollen shut. His lip busted open from the second blow to the face. He met Summer's gaze and saw how she looked pleased, but disappointed at the same time. He watched as she moved closer to him. "Question…" he managed to choke out, his mouth felt dry, making it hard for him to speak. "Why didn't your buddies kill us?"

Summer stood in front of him by this time and kneeled down. "Because I told them not to kill you… I wanted to kill you myself. I told them to make it seem like they were going to just to scare you."

"So, what're you waiting for?"

"Getting impatient, huh?" she reached behind her, pulling a pocketknife out of her jeans. "I'll make it quick. No need for you to suffer… though, it would be nice to watch you suffer," she brought the knife to his throat and held it there. "Once you and your family are out of the way, we can finally do what we want to do without you interfering."

"We'll never be out of the way," a man's voice spoke up, surprising Dean, but not Summer.

"John, how nice for you to join the party," she said lowering her arm as she stood up and faced him. "I was actually beginning to wonder whether or not you would show up."

Her eyes drifted down to his right hand and she saw him holding a pistol, while his other hand held a flask that most likely held holy water. "Holy water and a gun, John, what are you thinking? Those won't do any good."

"It will do a lot more than you think," John said as he lifted his right arm and pulled back the hammer of the gun with his thumb.

"Dad, no, don't do it!" Dean begged while the fear showed through his voice and visible on his face.

John ignored him, and, without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, the bullet hit her right in the stomach, making her stumble backwards a couple feet as she gasped from the impact.

Summer glanced down at the wound, noticing the blood appearing on her white shirt already. She lifted her head up, and before she could say a word, John hit her in the head with a medium sized pipe that he found. She fell to the floor immediately with a loud thud. John dropped both the gun the pipe before rushing over to Dean and Sam.

"Dad, how could you shoot her?" Dean asked worried and angry at the same time.

"I had to buy a few seconds in order to knock her out," John said as he untied Dean before he moved over toward Sam and did the same thing, and noticed Sam was still out cold from the night before.

"How did you find us?"

"That's not important right now. What's important is to get the demon out of her before she wakes up," John said as he pulled out his journal from his jacket and flipped through it until he found a page for doing an exorcisms.

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"Dean, you need to be checked on," Sam said to him while he stood next to the chair Dean sat in, beside Summer's bed at the hospital.

"I'm fine."

"Dean—"

"I said I'm fine, Sam."

"I know you want to stay here with her, but you need a doctor to clean the wounds. If you don't, they'll get infected, Dean." Sam grabbed Dean's arm and started to pull him to his feet. "She'll be fine for a short while."

Dean decided not to argue, so he willingly stood up, his eyes on Summer, the worry still lingering within him. Slowly, he stepped away from the bed and stepped out onto the hallway, crowded by people, doctors and nurses. The thought of being in the hospital again so soon made him sigh. Glancing at Sam, he saw him looking past him, which made him turn around and he saw his father standing there.

John stared Dean in the eye and saw the anger in them. "Dean—"

"How could you do that, dad? How could you shoot her?" Dean interrupted him, stepping closer. "You didn't even hesitate when you pulled the trigger. You ignored me when I begged you not to do it. She's now in the hospital because of you."

"I had to," John responded.

"Had to?" Dean repeated with more anger in his voice. "You didn't have to shoot her! You could have done something else that didn't cause her to get hurt. But you don't care what the hell you do!"

"Dean, calm down," Sam said stepping toward him and put a hand on his shoulder.

Dean roughly pushed his hand away and glared at him. "Calm down? You would react like this if this had been Jessica, Sam. Don't tell me to calm down when someone I care about is lying in a hospital bed right now."

Sam kept quiet, not wanting to say another word. He agreed, though, he would act like this if it had been Jessica. He never knew just how much Dean actually cared about Summer, and it surprised him a little.

"You do realize how mad she'll be when she wakes up and remembers you shot her. I think if you want to stay alive, you better leave." Dean said.

John sighed and gave a small nod. "Fine, but tell her I'm sorry," and with that, he turned around and walked away from them, eventually he was out of sight.

"Dean…"

"Let's just find the damn doctor," Dean mumbled as he walked past him and down the hall.

Sam sighed and followed him without another word.