C38

-oOo-

Merrick pushed the lever upwards, and the slab of rock above the pair slid back into it's closed position. Next, he went to sit by Sam's side and opened up his kit bag.

"Now, let me see. Here, have some water, it's a while since you last had any fluids. It might be just what you need, you could be suffering from too much sun and the effects of dehydration."

Sam accepted the water carrier off Merrick and nodded.

"That would explain how I'm feeling. Thanks...You know, when all this is over? Dean and me will owe you a lot Merrick. I want you to know that. I'm really glad you decided to come after us. And that you hung around to help out..."

Merrick raised a hand, signalling Sam to stop speaking.

"Sam. Drink. Then together we will find your brother and your friend."

-o-

The temperature down in the tunnel was chill and constant, both men feeling it keenly. The flame of their torch burned steady, with no breeze to make it flicker or dance. And the tunnel itself showed little variation in the colour and texture of the walls, floor and ceiling as they followed it along in silence, alert to anything to suggest that the two of them might not be alone down there in the cold and grey.

-o-

The medic helped Dean to sit up on the day bed. Dean held his breath, refusing to allow any sound to leave his lips as he felt the impact of every bruise, every bump, each aching muscle and the jolts of hot spiking reminders of having been hit by an arrow. Once sat upright, his hands curled around the edge of the day bed, he let himself breath again and glared up at the man he assumed to be the Magenta Mage.

"What appalling tragedy is it that I'm supposed to have suffered?"

Dean was ready not to believe whatever the Mage said, until he saw the brief smirk and the flash of something like enjoyment in the Mage's eyes at Dean's enquiry, before it was quickly hidden again behind a look of affected sympathy.

"You don't remember? Ah. Let me help you with that. The other one, he who undertook your misguided journey alongside you? Surely you must recall?...He fell to his death. My men will be going out again at first light in an attempt to recover the body."

Dean couldn't hide his physical reaction to the shock of hearing the Mage casually "reminding" him that Sam was dead. Dean had no doubts that the Mage knew that he hadn't been aware, hadn't seen, wasn't there, couldn't help, didn't know, didn't know, didn't know, no, no ...

-o-

With so many actions and reactions vying for Dean's favour, at first it was as though someone had pulled the plug on him. The Mage felt his anticipation deflate. He'd seen the younger man physically flinch as though his news had been carried on an iron fist, but the outburst of sorrow, fury, denial, anything at all, simply didn't happen. The Mage couldn't understand it.

"I must say dear boy, I am surprised at how calmly you have taken the news. You do understand what I have told you, don't you? Hmmm? Your companion is dead ... Is there really nothing you have to say on the matter? Nothing at all?"

When Dean finally raised his head again to look at the man standing in front of him, it was with eyes that held nothing but cold hate. The Mage instinctively backed away. Dean's voice carried no emotion.

"I guess nobody's ever told you that dead men don't speak."

The Mage glanced at the medic as she carefully stood up, then he turned back to Dean.

"What? I'm sorry, I don't under...

"You don't speak."

In a heartbeat Dean had surged upright and forwards, his weight driving the Mage to the floor with Dean on top of him, giving the Mage no chance to recover before starting to rain down a flurry of punches, blow after powerful blow smashing into the stunned face of the Mage, drawing blood from the first hit, tearing open the man's lower lip and dislocating his jaw as the Mage attempted to form the words to a spell.

"You...Are...Dead!"

Plummeting towards darkness, the last thing the Mage heard was the calm sound of the medic's voice.

-o-

The tunnel began to lead Sam and Merrick in a long, sweeping curve. Sam noted that the side walls were now dark with damp in places. He looked up when something tapped him lightly on the top of his head. As he tilted his head back, he felt two further light taps on one cheek, and a forth, directly on his eyelid. Sam drew Merrick's attention to the persistently dripping water.

"I'm guessing we're underneath the river."

Merrick looked up nervously.

"Thank you for pointing that out to me. I don't suppose you have any objection to me going a little faster?"

-o-

Dean was only half aware that the medic was saying something, recognising far too late what she was doing. The pain ripped through him, feeling like every single muscle in his body was cramping, taking his breath away and stealing his voice, denying him the ability to scream as he fell away from the Mage and curled up into a tight ball. The veins in his neck stood proud, his fingers curled and clawed, the muscles in his arms contracted, his back felt like it was being twisted and coiled, his teeth gritted together and his chest felt as if it were being squeezed and crushed inward by a white hot band of metal. As suddenly as it began, the pain stopped and released his body from it's grasp, leaving Dean gasping for breath and lying trembling on the floor next to the unconscious Mage. He felt the medic's breath on his cheek as she knelt alongside him and leaned down closer. Before his eyes closed he heard her whisper by his ear.

"That, my dear boy, was quite a silly thing to do."

-oOo-