Chapter 25 - Too Easy

Dean was desperate to stop his brother. It was now or never; Sam seemed so set on really killing himself. In a last ditch effort, Dean lunged for his brother, tackling him to the ground, and at the same time grabbing for the blade. He struggled against Sam momentarily before his brother lost grip and the metal flew across the room, landing near the door and skidding out of the room under the small crack. His brother frantically lashed out with hands and feet, trying to get Dean off him.

'Get off me you freak!' he yelled. 'I don't want any ghosts touching me…even ones that look like my brother!'

His fist swung hard at Dean's face, and there was a crack as it connected with a nose.

'God dammit Sam!' yelled Dean, scrambling off his brother and clutching at his nose. Sam jumped to his feet, and assumed a fighting position.

'Stay away from me!' he yelled.

As he looked at Dean, his brow suddenly furrowed slightly as he caught site of a small red trickle of liquid that had escaped from Dean's hands. Dean removed his bloodied hands from his face slowly, staring at the mess in disgust. He glanced up at Sam, saw the confused look on his face, and immediately realised why his brother looked that way.

'That's right Sam,' he said, his voice nasally and clogged as blood ran from his nose and down his face. 'If I'm a ghost…how can I bleed?'

Sam's fists were still clenched tightly, his face set determinedly, waiting for Dean to make a move.

'I don't know,' he admitted. 'You could be a doppelganger. Or a shapeshifter…or something like that.'

'I'm not Sam, I promise you,' said Dean, his voice thick with pleading. Blood still poured thick and fast from his nose, the deep crimson making Sam feel sick. Had he really done that? He felt so weak…

His mind had never run faster. That constant dripping still echoed somewhere in the depths, Dean's beheading, the screams, the body…Dean standing with him now. And all the memories from his wretched childhood, that was only bearable because of Dean. And those words that always echoed through his head…they always had and always would.

'I will always be here for you…you should never be afraid when I'm around. Nothing bad is ever gunna happen to you as long as I'm around.'

Sam's stance shifted slightly, and then dropped. This wasn't a doppelganger…or a shapeshifter. It was Dean…he had been right all along. The demon had tricked him.

'Dean…' Sam said his voice mixed with relief and caution. He stepped forward, awkwardly, unsure still if it was safe to touch his brother. He paused, and his mind registered Dean's bleeding nose. 'Oh crap…sorry…'

'It's ok Sam…' Dean said. An awkward silence fell between the two.

'Screw this,' Dean said suddenly, and grasped his brother in a hug. It didn't last long, but it was long enough to make a weight lift from their shoulders.

'Dean…when I saw them bring you in…you wouldn't believe how helpless I felt…' Sam said, hanging his head low. 'I feel like I've let you down.'

'Sam…remember my rule,' said Dean, his voice soft. 'No chick flick moments. Trust me, I know exactly what you want to say, and it's ok. I understand.'

He touched his broken nose and winced slightly, and took off the jacket Sam had given him so many days ago, when they had been stuck in the snow. He pressed it to his nose and looked up sharply as he heard people running down the hall.

'Took their time,' he commented. 'Sam…do you think you can fight them?'

Sam looked at his brother, and Dean could tell Sam was exhausted, physically and mentally.

'I guess,' he said, slight doubt on his face as the adrenaline from just moments ago began to wear away. He placed his hand on the wall to steady himself.

'Well,' said Dean, a worried look on his face. 'Let's do this.'

He threw the jacket aside, and they pressed themselves against the wall beside the door.

'Dean…I don't think I can do this,' Sam panted weakly. 'I feel so sick.'

'It'll be ok Sam…just try your best!'

Dean glanced at his brother, wiping the blood away that trickled from his nose still, the worried look deepening. Sam was in no shape to be fighting…especially when they were so outnumbered. They could hear someone outside the door, quickly punching the combination into the lock. Dean squeezed Sam's arm in reassurance as the door swung open and someone began to enter the room. In one swift movement, through the pain that still burnt him up inside, Dean slammed the door shut hard, grinning with relief as he heard the door make contact with an object; most likely human.

'Joel!' he heard Marc utter. 'Joel can you hear me?'

Dean took it as a good thing when there was no response. He hadn't heard any other voices either, so he figured that Marc was alone.

'There's only one now Sam,' he whispered, looking at his brother. His face dropped at the sight. Sam had slid down the wall, so he was sitting, his eyes closed, and sweat pouring down his face.

'Sam?' Dean quickly touched his brother's forehead, and winced at the heat that he felt. He was burning up. 'Shit.'

He turned away from his brother suddenly as the door bust open and Marc barged in, gun drawn. Dean had no interest in the gun and took Marc by surprise, tackling him to the ground. The gun skidded across the floor, landing at unconscious Sam's feet. Dean had the upper hand to begin with, his fist contacting with Marc's face multiple times before Marc got the hint and fought back, finally positioning himself over Dean. He punched Dean hard in the face, causing his nose to bleed harder, and from a sheath that was strapped around his waist; he drew an extremely large and sharp knife. His eyes glinted maliciously.

'Oh what an honor, to kill the mighty Dean Winchester,' he hissed, licking his lips excitedly. 'I hope you rot in hell!'

The knife raised, he paused momentarily, and took in the moment; the power he felt, the fear he could see in the victim's eyes…the fact that this was his master's number one enemy. A gun cocking behind him snapped him back into reality.

'That's not gunna happen,' a weak voice informed him. Marc twisted to his feet, and faced Sam, who held a gun at him, hands shaking slightly. 'Stay away from my brother.'

He fired, hitting Marc in the leg. He knew he couldn't kill him, but he hoped that shooting his leg would slow him down…for now. His hands trembled faster as the gun slipped from his fingers, and he crumpled unconscious to the ground once again. Dean slowly picked himself up off the floor, and stood over Marc, giving him a blow to the head that rendered him out cold.

'Sam?' he gently said, moving over to his brother, and placing his hand on Sam's forehead again. He was still hot. 'C'mon Sam, I can't carry you.'

Sam moaned slightly and opened his eyes.

'It's killing me Dean…it hurts so much.'

'Sam, you have a fever. We need to get out of here, but I need your help,' Dean begged.

Sam moaned again, and with help from Dean, stood up. He slung his arm over his brother's shoulder, and though Dean held most of his weight, he still carried himself slightly. They made their way slowly down the hallways, having no clue where they were heading. As they rounded yet another corner, Dean's prayers seemed to be answered. A door loomed ahead, half open, sunlight streaming through it.

As he pulled it open further, he sighed in relief at the sight of the blue sky, the green grass, and the feeling of the cool wind across his face. Without much thought he stepped from the house, guiding Sam with him, and they began their way down the path. As he walked out the gate with Sam, he looked back at the large, dark mansion, and he bit his lip, unsure.

It had been too easy. Way too easy. And he could tell, there was more to come. He just wasn't sure what it would be.

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My deepest, DEEPEST apologies for the wait. My grandfather passed away, and the last week has been hell, and i havent been writing.

if your still with me...i appreciate your patience. i'll update soon.

Nikki