Chapter 25

Dean doubted his brother heard him. He wasn't sure if he should be worried about it or not. Images sunk in and out of his brother as if he were wearing people and creatures like coats. It was weird, freaky, disturbing and one of the coolest things he'd ever seen all at the same time.

He took a shot at an over eager guard who stuck himself out just a little too far, especially since he glowed to Dean's eyes like a neon sign. He hit him, but wasn't sure if he'd actually taken him out. He hissed as he pulled back, the movement pulling at the graze he took on his hip a minute or so earlier. There was a large hole in the tree where a bullet had pierced the edge from the other side about two inches from his brother's face. The latter never flinched. Wherever his brother had gone, it was a long way away from here. Dean just hoped he remembered to come back – and soon.

The world tilted on its axis or at least felt like it when the hand he had over his brother's heart grew abruptly hot and it was as if his insides got vacuumed out of his body and into Sam's. His muscles turned to water and he collapsed though his hand never moved from its position on his brother's chest. He saw Sammy's eyes open and they glowed from within.

Dean's heart lurched and for the first time wondered if he'd asked his brother to do the right thing.

Sam opened his mouth and a blast of sound like a thousand voices raised at once launched out like an exploding bomb. It washed away from him homing in on the estate's surrounding wall and crashing into it with the force of a tidal wave. A point in the wall Dean thought might be due east exploded upwards from the outside and he blinked, thinking he saw a red jaguar running up toward the sky before it.

Though his ears were ringing from Sam's original blast, he thought he heard three other explosions at other places along the wall. Screams of pain or perhaps utter jubilation echoed in waves. The air around him was no longer as cold as before.

His hand detached itself from Sam's chest and he realized whatever his brother had been doing was over. Wanting nothing more than to just lie there, feeling about as weak as he had during his hospital stay two years ago, Dean forced himself to roll onto his side and wobble up to a sitting position. Sammy still sat in the same pose as before except his eyes were closed and his mouth hung open totally slack.

"Sammy?"

Though everything tried to spin around him, Dean focused solely on his brother. Unsteady hands touched his brother's face then checked for a pulse at his neck. The latter seemed a little thready but was there. Dean found himself breathing just a little easier. The boy in Sam's lap also had his eyes closed, but his skin was nowhere near as splotchy as before. Looked like Sammy had done it. One glance at the nearest wall confirmed it. All the ghosts were gone. He hoped they would stay that way.

The only thing left to do was get their asses out of there before the goons came gunning for them again. Easier said than done.

"Sammy, come on. Nap time's over. You need to wake up now." He gently slapped at his brother's face trying to bring him around.

Nothing…not even a twitch.

He held back from voicing a groan, not able to afford to waste the energy. Whatever Sam had done, he'd taken Dean at his word and drained him pretty much dry. Probably not as much as what he'd done to himself though. Guess it was time to prove he really was Sammy's nagual.

Carefully, he moved the boy to the grass then leaned forward to better heft Sam over his shoulder. His brother's weight felt like a ton of iron trying to drive Dean into the ground. Dammit, this shouldn't be so hard! He felt as feeble as a newborn. He wouldn't have it. He had signed up to pay too high a price to let Sam be slaughtered in this place. And the fact he had an idea what they'd do with his corpse afterwards was even more of an incentive to get all of them the hell out.

Nestling the boy in one arm and leaning the other against the trunk of the tree, Dean took three deep breaths then hefted up to his feet. The world spun and twisted in even more directions than before, but he held on. His legs were shaking, his knees feeling like they might betray him at any moment. He cursed at them and himself under his breath until he felt slightly steadier.

Letting go of the tree and grabbing Sam's legs instead, Dean trudged out toward the hole in the wall on the east side. His path wasn't exactly what one would call straight but he was getting there. Sammy might look skinny, but he weighed a lot. Someone wasn't going to get fed for a few days after this. In contrast the boy seemed to weigh almost nothing, which in its own way was worrying too. Guess he'd have to give him Sammy's servings, put some meat on those bones. Heck, did nawals even eat like normal people? Somehow he doubted it.

It felt like forever before he reached the breach. His legs felt like rubber and the rest of him he could hardly feel at all. Still not even a twitch from his brother. He looked down at the boy and saw that his eyes were open. When their gazes met, the boy pointed at the rubble of the wall.

Dean stared at him in confusion then realized the boy wanted him to grab a piece of it. He moaned. There was no way he'd be able to keep walking if he stopped and absolutely no way could he bend down to pick one up, he'd never ever get back up again. The boy just kept staring at him and continued pointing.

"Yeah, I got it. I got it."

He wavered at the hole, having to concentrate on his footing like never before. Luckily a small piece sat on part of the crumpled right side so all he had to do was balance for a moment and reach out and grab it. He dumped it in a pocket then took hold of Sam's legs again before he tipped over to the side.

Sweat was running down his back and sides and he still had to get them to the Impala, which was parked a safe distance away – curse his luck. He'd better just get on with it.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Dean almost fell over as he half turned at the booming voice. Whatever the kid had done to him was still in effect and had other cool benefits because his gaze seemed to suddenly magnify and zoom in on the speaker regardless of the fact he was an acre or more away. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the guy due to the kid or some other reason. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and long silver hair. He was wearing what looked to him like a mighty expensive blue suit. The guy was standing in the upper open patio at the back of the house. And he didn't look happy. Well hello there, Amos Stanfield. Glad not to be meeting you, buddy.

Then the guy blinked. Both of his eyes filmed over in an almost glowing blue.

Holy Shit Fuck! The mobster was a demon. Last thing they needed right now.

Dean turned away praying up and down the dude's vision was nowhere near as good as his right then. Not only did they just get added to someone else's shit list, but it was a demon's shit list at that. Bela had better not have told him who they were. He wondered if she truly knew whom she was dealing with. No wonder her panties had been in such a wad!

The boy lightly patted Dean's pocket where he'd stashed the piece of rock. Dean didn't get what he was trying to say, having enough problems just keeping one foot moving in front of the other. He curved away from the opening in the wall to use it to keep them from view of those in the estate grounds as he muddled along. Heads would roll and he didn't plan to be around for the show.