A/N: Hello wonderful people! I hope that you enjoy this next chapter. As always, I'm sorry in advance for any and all mistakes. :)
Here is to hoping that Thursday brings everything that you have always wanted for an ending.
Chapter Eight
Dean shoved his way through the thick branches with the uttermost care, pushing them back into place with a silence that only came with years of training. As much as he hated to admit it, he had left behind both a physical and emotional burden with his brother and Maddie and it allowed him to move with a lightness that had been lacking for the course of the day.
Shifting his grip on the canister of holy water, Dean felt strangely in control for the first time since Sam had shown up on the path, bleeding and rambling about demons. In fact, he was ready and gearing up for this fight, ready to sink his teeth into this bitch and end her once and for all.
Nobody got away with stabbing his brother. Nobody.
The bridge came into view and Dean bent low, using the brush as coverage as he scoped the scene. On the other side of the river, he could see the cars, the Impala and a couple of others, scattered throughout the small parking lot. The was no sign of life there and the bridge itself was empty. That only left—Standing loosely just off to the side was the man that they had run into earlier on the trail. He was leaning against a tree, whittling away at a branch like he had nothing better to do.
Dean leered, his hands tightening into fists. Fantasy could only carry one so far but Dean was working on years and years of experience. Edging backward into the trees, he disappeared and began to blaze his way back down, making sure to stay out of eyesight at all times. Once he was a satisfying distance away, he crossed the path and headed straight for the demon.
Or if it wasn't a demon than some poor fool who was about to get soaked.
Moving with practiced ease, Dean went from tree to tree, until he was directly behind the tree that the demon was leaning against.
Idiot.
Without giving the demon chance to sense his presence, Dean leaped around it, upending the canister over his head and reveling in the primal sense of satisfaction as the demon screamed, flinching and jerking as its skin began to sizzle and smoke. Wrapping an arm around its neck, Dean yanked it backward and slammed its head into the tree. The demon snarled, jerking away before Dean could tighten his grip.
Rolling back, it staggered to it's feet, still smoking. Dean followed with a wicked left hook to the face and the demon threw up an arm to protect itself.
"Saving your own skin, huh, rather than being saddled with your brother?" it gasped out, trying for a leer but the effect was rather ruined when Dean's fist smashed into its nose, breaking it.
Dean said nothing as he forced the demon backward with a series of rapid-fire punches. It growled low in its throat and lunged forward, throwing its own punch that sent Dean sprawling onto the ground. Stumbling to his feet, Dean threw himself right back in but and the demon's caught his fist, wrapping its free hand around his arm and tugging it viciously backward, pulling the muscle taut.
"Sonofabitch!" Dean couldn't help the gasped yell as his arm threatening to pop out of joint. The demon laughed breathily in his ear and Dean cringed away.
"Dude, gross. That's just wrong," he ground out, trying to wriggle free. "Maybe when you were Emma you could have gotten away with it, but…"
"Name's Terry now," the demon laughed and Dean took the moment to slam the heel of his boots down onto Terry's sneakers. The demon jerked and Dean slammed the back of his head into its face.
Terry howled, releasing him in surprise and Dean spun around, making for the bridge. If he could get to the car then this nasty SOB wouldn't stand a chance. He ducked the first swing that came his way, returning one of his own but Terry wasn't a small guy had the unfair advantage of having a demon super powering him.
He plowed into Dean, shoving him face-first into a wooden beam. Dean grunted, riding through the pain and once again twisting in an attempt to break free.
"See, I knew that you'd come to the bridge," Terry taunted in his ear and if Dean had another hand free, he would have clapped.
"Well, huzzah for you. It's not like we didn't have anywhere else to go."
Terry didn't appear phased at all by the sarcasm. "But where's dear little Sammy…and that girl you picked up. I'm surprised she was still alive, but oh well. She won't be when this is all over."
Dean didn't answer and the demon chuckled in his ear, pressing far too close for comfort. "When I picked up this meatsuit, I could see its memories. I know that Sammy isn't doing well. You're their only hope. And I knew that when push came to shove, you'd make a break for it, to try and save them but you are going to die with the knowledge that you failed. That it is all your fault, that their deaths are your fault."
"I dunno if I would blame myself, wasn't exactly the one holding the knife or possessing 'em," Dean tried once again, throwing his best cocky smile over his shoulder. A hand came up, wrapping in his hair and yanking his head back.
The demon's eyes were wide and crazed, gleeful and lustful all at the same time.
Dean forced his grin back onto his face. "Just a little bit of helpful advice, you're confusing reality and fantasy and, as disappointing as it is to all of us, they just don't mesh. People aren't going to play by your rules." Dean's gaze steadied as he looked into Terry's eyes, watching with a little bit of satisfaction as they flickered black. "All this is only goin' to get you dead that much faster."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying, darlin', most monsters stay away from us. You wanna know why?"
Terry released his hold on his hair, swinging Dean around and shoving an arm up against his throat, almost lifting him up off his feet.
"They didn't have the guts," Terry snarled as Dean gasped, both hands coming up to tug uselessly at the arm of iron.
"Who didn't?" he wheezed out. If he could keep Terry talking, keep him from murdering him, then he might be able to toss Terry over the bridge and into the river. He just needed time and some leverage…
"They didn't have the guts, the other demons down below. To kill a hunter is cause for power and celebration, for power and authority. Most just hideaway, making their deals or sneaking under others skins, killing only one or two. But no, I'm making a name for myself, I'm going to scare them all. After all, who showed up to my crime scene but the hunters...and to kill a Winchester…" he grinned, showing all of his teeth and brought the knife up. It glinted in the sunlight and Dean eyed it wearily, still trying to breath around the arm pressing into his jugular. The knife flicked out, cutting a deep gash underneath Dean's eye that had him grunting. "To kill two Winchesters, well, let's just say that after I carve my initials into your corpses that—"
Dean rammed his knee up, catching the demon right where it hurts and rammed him backward. Terry was caught off guard by the movement and his eyes went wide as he almost dropped the knife and had to fumble to catch it.
The sudden crack of a bullet that tore through Terry's chest took both of them by surprise and Dean's head shot up.
Cold fear and dismay coiled up his stomach as he saw Sam standing at the end of the bridge, gun raised, and face determined.
#
Sam stared at the place where Dean had disappeared, his heart jumping up into his throat as he listened intently. Maddie was seemingly holding her breath as well, her gaze fixed in the direction that Dean had gone.
The seconds slowly ticked into minutes and Sam found himself gripping the tree harder than before. If he had thought that running through the woods was tiresome, it was nothing compared to this waiting and not knowing. Sam scoffed at himself as he wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He was out of practice. The first several years of his life had been nothing but waiting. Wait in a motel room, wait in the car, wait at the perimeter, wait—
A scream cut through the air and Sam straightened, his heart pounding in his chest. That wasn't Dean. It sounded like a man, but it wasn't deep enough to be Dean. He poised on the balls of his feet, wound forgotten for the moment as his instinct to fight, to save whoever was in danger kicked in.
"Sonofabitch!"
It was faint, and if Sam hadn't been straining his ears then he wouldn't have heard it, but this time it was defiantly Dean. Sam lurched forward, holding onto the next tree. There was pain in his brother's voice, he could hear it, but...
Sam knew that he wasn't of much use. Truly he was going to be nothing more than a liability if he went out there and if he got Dean killed because he got impatient and couldn't trust his brother… On the other hand, if Dean was seriously hurt then the demon wasn't going to waste any time in killing him. Sam had already doomed his brother once, he wasn't going to again, not if he could help it.
Making up his mind, Sam turned to Maddie.
"I'll be right back," he hissed and she jerked her head up, her eyes wide.
"No, Dean said not too, Dean said—"
But Sam was already gone, pushing his way roughly through the trees, using them as crutches were his own feet threatened to give out from underneath him. Dean was right, the bridge was not that far away. He was already picking up the sounds of a fight. Flesh hitting flesh, strangled grunts, and groans of pains, and Dean's cursing.
Breaking through the last of the underbrush, he staggered back onto the path, taking in the scene at the bridge.
Dean was pressed up against the railing of the bridge, his feet almost off the ground as a man flashed a knife up against his face. It sliced downwards and Sam saw the blood spurt even from this distance and something snapped in his heart. A hard, fast, anger coursed through his body, lending strength where weakness had only been before.
Charging the last few steps to the bridge, Sam steadied his legs, taking a solid stance as he pulled out his gun. Dean may have been injured, but he wasn't down for the count and he thrust out up his knee, catching the demon hard and sending him staggering back at the unexpected force.
Dean dropped to the ground, coughing harshly and cupping a hand over his bleeding face.
Sam had the perfect shot and without pausing to think he pulled the trigger.
The shot was true and the demon stared down with surprise as blood began to lazily spurt from his chest. Dean flinched back, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Sam before anger channeled into his gaze but Sam's focus was on the man turning to face him.
The demon smiled lazily, ignoring the blood that was dripping both from his nose and from his chest, twirling the knife easily.
"Sammy, what took you so long. I was just starting to believe that Dean really had left you behind to die, that he loved his own skin more than yours. And what about the girl, did you abandon her when things got rough."
"You can go to hell," Dean snarled from behind it and the demon rounded on him, sticking a hand on his hip.
"Now, Dean-o, we were just starting to have fun, no reason to throw such a hissy fit. I still think your face will be so much prettier after I carve my initials into it."
"Don't. Touch. Him." Sam edged closer, the gun still raised.
"Oh, darlin', what are you going to do? Shoot me?" The man sniggered, advancing on Sam. Sam held his ground for a moment before beginning to back up.
"Hey!" Dean lurched forward but Sam gave a minuet shake of his head, jerking it emphatically towards the car and Dean faltered. It was a split second decision, and one Sam knew would cost his brother, but it was all the time he had.
Dean turned and bolted across the bridge.
The demon turned, watching him as he shifted his grip on the knife. "Hey! I'm gonna rip poor Sammy limb from limb!" When that didn't get Dean to turn back, he huffed in frustration, glancing at Sam. "You can wait, I'll—"
The bullet that tore through his face, seemed to take him by surprise and as his head jerked back he sat down hard. Sam clenched onto the grip of the gun, forcing the trigger down again and again and sending bullet after bullet tearing through the demon.
"Would you—stop it!" The demon jerked with each bullet, unable to quite get to its feet as Sam continued his rain of gunfire. Something snapped in the demon's one good remaining eye, the other nothing more than a bloody hole, and a vicious snarl began low in the back of its throat.
"Fine. If that's how you want to pay, let's play."
#
The bullets wouldn't stop Terry forever and the only advantage that they could possibly have was sitting in the Impala's trunk, safely locked away, and Dean ran faster than he thought he had ever run before. The bridge shook underneath his feet as the gun continued to crack. His baby wasn't that far away, shining just ahead of him bright and beautiful, but each pounding of his legs, each searing breath, reminded Dean that he had run out of time, that Sam was out of time.
Reaching the end of the wooden bridge, Dean leaped over the parking blocks, dodged past a Ford pickup, and skidded towards the Impala. Taking the turn a little too quickly, he almost went down but caught himself by his fingers tips and pushed off the ground, ramming into the trunk.
The report of the gun had stopped.
"Damnit!" Scrambling with the key's Dean glanced over his shoulder and immediately wished that he hadn't. Terry had managed to get Sam on the ground and was straddling him.
He hadn't sold his soul for some low-level demon with one messed up kink to come in and crash the party. Digging the key into the lock, he scratched the metal but found that he didn't care in the slightest as he thrust the lid and the fake bottom up. Scanning the contents, he began to jam shotgun shells into his pocket as he simultaneously attempted to grab the gallon of holy water and the sawed-off.
Leaving the trunk wide open, he skidded around the car and took off again, pushing his legs to go faster as he tucked the water under one arm and checked the gun. It already had two salt-fill shells inside and he pumped it once, guarantying that it would be ready.
Sam let out a loud scream and Dean bolted forward, his heart somewhere in his throat. All he could was Terry's straining back and Sam's leg's bucking as he tried to throw him off. Pouring on the speed, Dean dropped the water and raised the sawed-off to eye level.
"HEY! BITCH!"
#
Sam pulled the trigger again, aiming for the demon's other good eye, but the gun gave an empty click.
The man's face split into a devilish grin.
"Runnin' a little low, are we?" It snarled, pulling itself to its feet.
"Bite me," Sam growled, backing up a step and risking a glance towards Dean. He was reaching the end of the bridge, would be at the car in seconds.
"Oh, I'll bite." It grinned through the blood, straightening and lunging towards Sam. Sam swung the butt of his gun up but it was easily knocked aside as the demon's arms went around his waist and slammed him straight into the ground.
Straddling him, Terry thrust his hand directly into Sam's old wound, breaking through both the bandages and any healing that may have happened.
Sam screamed, bucking up under the weight as everything went white and pain consumed him. It was all he could think about it, it all he could see, it was everything that he had become.
Pain and he were one.
Over his head, he could faintly hear Terry laughing, a deep gruff thing, as his hand sunk in deeper. If it was even possible the pain increased and dark spots began to dance in front of Sam's eyes, inviting him to escape the pain. He retched weakly instead, his stomach protesting the abuse and Terry leaned down, increasing the weight.
Gasping, Sam bucked his hips weakly, desperate to throw him off, to ease the pain, to make it all just stop.
And then suddenly the pressure was gone.
Sucking in a grating breath, Sam rolled onto his side, coughing harshly as he retched again but that only made the pain worse. Curling up, he clenched his hands together and tried not to throw up.
Demon. He had to... Where was the demon?
Gagging, he forced his watering eyes open. Terry was standing just above him and his hand, which was held at his side, was coated in deep red. It dripped slowly off his fingers, splashing down to land in the dirt next to Sam's face. The strong scent of iron hit him hard and he gagged again as Terry stepped away.
Lifting his head from the ground, Sam flinched back at the sound of a shotgun reverberated through the air, making his ears ring.
This time it was Terry's turn to scream as he stumbled back, scrambling desperately at his chest as his skin burned and bubbled.
Salt would do that to a demon.
Salt meant shotgun. Shotgun meant Dean.
Dean was there.
Grimacing with relief, Sam let his head fall back into the dirt and simply attempted to breathe correctly. The gun went off again and Terry stumbled back, his legs catching against Sams's and he fell back with a cry. The knife in was holding went flying, landing in the dirt next to Sam.
"Hey…" Sam dragged his hand across the ground, reaching for the brightly glinting metal.
It was just a few inches away from his face but his fingers weren't working according to his command. Terry was scrambling at his back, shoving himself over Sam and reaching for the knife as well. His hand closed around the knife seconds before Sam reached it and his fingers scrabbled at the back of his fist. Terry snapped his hand up, catching Sam hard across the face.
Sam grunted, feeling something in his nose give, but what was a little more pain compared to the hot agony that was still coursing up from his side.
Terry flung himself away from Sam, rising up to meet Dean who was running towards them. No...no, she couldn't have Dean.
Sam blinked dazedly in that direction, his eyesight wavering. The look on Dean's face really should have sent Terry running in the opposite direction, it would have sent him running anyway, but the demon just kept going.
Dean's arm came up in an arc and the water droplets sparkled in the air as they soared through it before they hit Terry full in the face. Shrieking and sizzling, Terry once again dropped the knife to paw at his skin instead. Sam watched, fascinated as he writhed, desperate to escape the torture but Dean wasn't letting up anytime soon, upending the gallon over his head.
Rolling over, Sam coughed out a groan but the knife was right there….
Wrapping it tightly in his clammy fist, Sam forced his body up onto his elbow, gripping the knife as fiercely as his waning strength would allow.
Terry and Dean were dancing above him, around him, and over him, making the whole world spin in a way that it really shouldn't have been able to. Dean was attempting to complete an exorcism if the Latin was any indication but Terry was moving quickly, screaming over his words as holy water continued to be shoved into its face. Sam could feel the residue soaking into his clothes, splashing down onto his skin.
Closing his eyes, Sam willing himself to focus and for his hands to stop shaking. Panting harshly past the pain, he waited for the faint smell of sulfur to drift overhead before forcing his eyes open once more. Terry was steaming, his eyes wild and angry as he lunged at Dean, going in for the kill once and for all.
The game was up.
Sam waited a second longer and then slammed the knife down with all his remaining strength.
It sunk through Terry's sneakers, through bone, and into the ground.
Terry screeched in surprise, twirling on its good leg and ramming his other foot into Sam's face. He went flying back, rolling away with the momentum as blood filled his mouth. Dean backed up several feet, breathing hard and bleeding badly from a cut along his collarbone, but his voice was steady as he continued the exorcism.
Terry gasped, positively vibrating as he jerked forward. It was the demon's final attempt to remain in its host and Terry stumbled, going down on a knee as Dean neared the end. His brother was moving, the words still flowing off his lips, his body looming in Sam's vision before his hand coming to rest on Sam's shoulder.
Sam breathed heavily through his mouth, his broken nose too full of blood to be of use, and tried to keep track of everything through the haze that had filled his vision. Dragging his hand away from his bleeding gut, he wrapped it lightly around Dean's ankle and felt Dean shift a little closer though his attention never left Terry as he continued to writhe.
Fighting wearily against the urge to close his eyes, Sam wearily lifted them to Terry as well. His side was throbbing worse than ever and his fingers were starting to go numb. He knew that he should probably be worried about that but…it…all…
Dropping his head back down to the ground, Sam blinked rapidly and felt Dean's hand tighten almost painfully, as if he knew that Sam had reached the end of his endurance.
Something black rushed across his line of vision and then Terry was falling limply to the ground.
The demon was gone.
Terry was dead.
Regret and relief peaked through Sam but the pain and dizziness overrode it, bearing down on him and dragging him away. Sam's eyes slid close and he breathed a long sigh.
Dean would be okay now. Dean was goin'…Dean was—
Sharp, harsh pain brought everything rushing back and Sam gasped, choking and coughing on the sudden rush of clarity. Dean's face was far too close to his, close enough that Sam could see the concern painted clearly in his eyes. Dean's mouth was moving and Sam stared at for a long minute, trying to translate the gibberish that was being spoken above him.
Oh. English. Maybe.
"Wha—" Sam couldn't catch the groan in time and it slipped past his lips. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat as the blue from the sky was seeped of its color and everything continued to spin.
"Hey, no, none of that. Hang in there, Sammy, just—" Dean broke himself off as he shifted position. His voice sounded terribly apologetic and Sam felt the beginnings of fear but then searing agony tore through his every nerve, blinding him, and causing his brain to short circuit.
He wasn't sure of much else after that. At some point, he thought he was walking. Or being walked. The ground was certainly moving under his feet and then suddenly it wasn't. Instead, he was sitting down and staring at the interior of the Impala. Dean was cursing violently to the left of him, words that would have even made a sailor blush, but his hands were nothing but gentle as he manipulated Sam's legs further into the car and then leaned Sam back against the seat.
"Dean—" Sam hadn't meant for the word to come out as jumbled and frayed as it had…but maybe again that was just his hearing because Dean seemed to have understood him perfectly well.
"Yeah, I'm here. Don't move, okay, just sit still…" Dean reached up, patting Sam's chest hurriedly before ducking back out of the car. The door was shut firmly behind him and Sam stared at it, suddenly feeling horribly alone.
Working his mouth to gain enough salvia, Sam clenched his eyes shut. "Dean!" he called out in a pitifully weak voice but there was no answer. Raising his head an inch off the seat, Sam tried to see through the window. Everything was swirling, but he couldn't see any shape that resembled his brother.
"Dean?" he tried again but once again all he was met with was silence.
Dean had left him.
No, that wasn't right. Dean wouldn't leave him, had fought to stay with him and to keep him close. Dean wouldn't leave him, ever. Not even when Sam died and Dean didn't. Sam choked a little as he fumbled for the door handle. Grasping it, he attempted to pull himself upright but his body was too weak, his arms too tired. He couldn't do it.
Sinking back with a soft sob, Sam glanced down and froze, his brain trying desperately to put two and two together as he stared down at the blood covering his chest and jeans.
Dean had been bleeding, hadn't he?
Wrapping an arm around his middle, Sam dragged his fingers up and white-knuckled the door handle until he was sitting upright. His muscles began to tremble violently, unable to maintain the position, but Dean was ou there, was possibly hurt...
It was no use and Sam crashed back, gasping. Sam wasn't sure how long he sat in the car, noting only the gathering heat and the sweat that was making every cut on his face sting and his side ache before the back door suddenly swung open.
Jumping violently, Sam jerked around, trying to see what was happening.
Dean was outlined through the window, and he could hear him talking softly but it wasn't to him, not to Sam to…to Maddie. Sam rolled his head back along with the seat, trying to see over the edge but the movement made him even dizzier and he had to stop with a low moan.
"Hey, easy does it…" Dean's hand briefly brushed the back of his head, but he was still talking to Maddie, making sure that she was comfortable, Sam thought. A moment later Dean's was leaning over across the seats and draping a blanket haphazardly over Sam.
Then the door was slamming shut and another opening and then Dean was right next to him.
"Okay, here we go—" Dean made quick work of tucking the blanket in tighter around Sam and pulling him over, closer to him. Sam's head hit Dean's shoulder but he didn't have the strength to keep it there and he could feel himself slipping down until his head was pressed awkwardly against Dean's forearm.
"Oh, for cryin'" Dean's mumble trailed off, and then Sam was being gently lowered down, his head coming to rest against Dean's thigh. Dean reached over him for the keys and Sam only just managed to catch his wrist, snagging onto it and clutching loosely.
"Dean—"
"On second, dude…" The Impala roared to life underneath him, the comforting vibrations sending a wave of pain over his already overtaxed body but Sam couldn't let go, not yet.
"Dean, you're hurt?" Sam trailed off, tugging on Dean's arm and knowing that Dean would understand what his hazy brain was trying to say. Dean was spinning the steering wheel around, the motion jerking Sam's hand off and his arm dropped down, his fingers trailing against the rough fiber of the carpet.
A moment later Dean's hand was pressed against his head, his fingers tangling in Sam's hair. "I'm okay, you're the one trying to get all your blood on the outside," he said gruffly and Sam relaxed back into the warmth that Dean was giving off.
"Oh. Good."
Dean made a strange noise over his head but Sam could only close his eyes, listening to the familiar rumble of the Impala as she lured him towards the calling darkness, towards sleep just like she had since his childhood.
Sam thought that he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder, shaking him, but by that point, he was too far gone to know for sure.
#
Dean watched as Terry hit the ground, the black smoke that had been the demon was already gone.
He didn't need to check Terry's body to know that the poor man hadn't made it out of this fiasco alive and all he could do was bury the regret alongside the other hundreds of deaths that haunted him at night. Right now, he had to worry about Sam, Sam who was groaning weakly as he rolled limply over onto his back.
Thick, red, blood was already pooling beneath him, forming a puddle and Dean's heart skipped a beat. There was already so much blood staining the ground in great splotches where Sam had been laying.
"Sammy?" Dean dropped to his knees, quickly moving to brace Sam's shoulder and keep him still as he yanked his shirt up. The wound in Sam's side had been torn completely open, leaving a gaping hole that was spurting blood at an alarming rate. The stupid bitch really hadn't hesitated, just plunged her whole hand right in…Dean felt his stomach turn over.
"Sam, you with me?"
Sam didn't respond as his eyes rolled back in his head and Dean cursed under his breath as he used his own knife to rip Sam's already ruined shirt up the seam. Tearing a good chunk of cloth off, Dean quickly bunched it up and pressed it firmly against the freely bleeding wound.
Checking to make sure that Sam was still unconscious, Dean kept one hand on the bandage while he rolled Sam quickly over onto his bad side, increasing pressure. Sam grunted his face twisting in pain.
"Hold on, I'll be right back," Dean ordered as he slid his hand free, clambering to his feet. Sprinting for the car once again, he made a beeline for the trunk. With the first-aid tucked securely under his am, he dashed back.
Sam hadn't moved in his absence and Dean tore open a pressure bandage before straddling his brother's legs and gently easing him over onto his back. Blood had already soaked through the wadded material and the ground was sticky with it.
Easing back his makeshift bandage, Dean pressed the real one in place and leaned down hard. Sam moaned underneath him, his eyes shooting open as his breath caught.
"Hey there, buddy, you with me?" Dean leaned in a little closer, forcing a smile onto his face. "I mean, checking out like this and leaving me with all the cleanup, C'mon, that's just weak."
"Wha…" Sam trailed off, his eyes slipping close again and Dean's heart dropped.
"No, no, no. Hey, none of that, open your eyes. Hey, c'mon."
Sam was bleeding out. In his arms. Again.
"Open your damn eyes, Sam!"
Sam flinched, his eyes flashing open and Dean breathed, forcing another smile onto his face. "Hey…"
The warmth of new blood was beginning to seep through the bandage and onto his hands and Dean resisted the urge to hit something.
He was going to have to add more pressure, he needed to stop the bleeding...
Dean leaned down harder, ignoring the way that Sam lurched in his hold or how he gargled something before going completely limp as his head rolled forward. This was far too much like Cold Oak and Dean bowed his head, focused solely on stopping the bleeding, or at least getting it in control.
At least Sam's spinal cord wasn't severed, that was something. This was fixable with a pint or two of blood and a hospital.
Or at least he prayed.
"C'mon!" Dean shifted position again, mercilessly applying pressure.
It took several tense minutes and several layers of gauze before the bleeding slowed enough that Dean felt comfortable trying to move Sam.
"Hey, Sammy?" Reaching up, Dean paused at Sam's throat, pressing two fingers down just under his chin. Sam's heart was pounding like it was trying to force itself out of his chest and his skin was cool and clammy to the touch. Moving his hand up to his face, he began to pat Sam's cheek. "Sammy, C'mon, I don't want to carry you, dude. I just got the bleeding stopped. C'mon, wakey, wakey…"
There was no movement and Dean hesitated, before rapping his knuckles harshly along Sam's sternum. Sam's eyebrow pinched together, stirring sluggishly and Dean breathed out a silent sigh of relief.
There was little or no awareness in Sam's eyes, but he responded to simple commands. Even then, it took an agonizingly long time to get Sam safely up and on his feet and staggering towards the Impala.
Dean had one of Sam's arms swung tightly across his shoulder, while he gripped Sam's firmly around the waist, twisting in a hand in his belt loops. Sam's steps were slow and uneven and the Impala seemed to be inching backward rather than forward but all the same, they reached her.
Leaning Sam against the car, Dean yanked the door open and then with as much care as was possible, lowered his giant of a brother down and onto the seat. Sam groaned harshly his eyes flashing with pain.
"Sorry." Dean leaned him backward, letting his head tip against the seat before bending down to grasp his legs. He was trying to be as careful as possible, but he was working with not a lot of room and a way to large brother.
"De'n?"
Dean raised his head, making brief eye contact with Sam as he tried to offer reassurance. Sam looked at him in growing confusion and Dean cursed under his breath. He still had to go back and get Maddie, Sam was just going to have to hold his own.
"I'll be right back, okay?" he said loudly, enunciating each word clearly but Sam's eyes were still muddy and there was nothing for Dean to do but give him a comforting pat on the chest and then lock the car door behind him.
He didn't even notice how his legs protested as he once again broke into a run. Maddie wasn't that far away, he could go there and be back within ten minutes at the most. As long as Sam didn't start bleeding again…
The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine.
Maddie just muffled a scream when he burst into the clearing, panting and shaking.
"You're alive!" she gasped but Dean was already shaking his head as he gathered her into his arms without preamble.
"We've got to go," he gasped out, turning on his heel.
"But Sam—"
"Needs a hospital."
"And the demon…?"
"It's dead, it won't come back for you," Dean assured as he tore through the underbrush, not caring that it was scratching up his arms. Maddie opened up his mouth to say something else but seemed to think better of it when Dean aimed a stony glare in her direction.
A brief flash of regret filtered through his soul as he caught sight of the fresh tear tracks on her face but he pushed it all aside. He could answer her questions later when Sam wouldn't be mistaken for roadkill or a vamp's chew toy.
His throat was swelling shut and Dean cleared it roughly, blinking rapidly so that he could see the path in front of him. The bridge came into view, and then the car and Dean bent awkwardly down, fumbling to be able to grasp the car's door and the weight in his arms.
Sam jumped violently, his head turning to face Dean. He didn't look any better than when Dean had left him, in fact, he looked worse. Sweat was coating his skin, and his eyes were wild.
Bending down carefully, Dean gently sat Maddie in the back corner, wincing alongside her as she hissed in pain. Backing out a little, he briefly brushed his hand against the back of Sam's head, before gathering up a few of the blankets they kept in the back for just such occasions. Tossing a few to Maddie, he leaned over the seat and lobbed a second one over Sam.
"You good?" he asked tightly but Maddie was already nodding and Dean wasted no time in getting to the front seat. Pulling Sam closer, he readjusted him until he was in a position in which Dean could monitor his condition.
He was reaching for the keys when Sam reached out, his fingers wrapping around Dean's wrist loosely and Dean looked down in concern. Sam's face was almost translucent he was so pale and the blood on his face and clothes stood out starkly but his eyes...they weren't pinched with pain. It was concern.
"Dean—"
"On second, dude…" The Impala roared to life and it had never sounded so amazing. Gripping the steering wheel, Dean spun her into a tight 180 and gunned the engine. Sam's hand dropped down, too weak to even hold on.
"De'n…you hu't…" Sam's voice was wrecked and Dean's lips tightened into a hard line as he straightened his baby out and sent her speeding down the mountain path and what probably unsafe speeds.
"I'm okay, you're the one trying to get all your blood on the outside." Dean reached down, laying his free hand against Sam's hair and petting back the wild strands.
"Oh. Good."
Dean pursed his lips tightly, fighting to regain control of the car and the sudden anger that was flowing through him. He was going to bring back the demon just so he could send it straight back to hell a second time.
Sam sighed tiredly as Dean's foot pressed harder against the pedal and his head tilted forward, the muscles in his neck relaxing.
"Hey…hey, dude, you've gotta stay awake for me, okay? Stay with me."
Sam didn't answer and Dean grabbed his shoulder, shaking him roughly. "Sammy? Sammy, don't do this to me, don't you dare. I didn't drag your ass across that mountain for you to check out on me now."
Sam lolled limply with Dean's movement and Dean's fingers crawled down to his brother's throat, his fingers searching for signs of life. He found an increasingly weak and rapid pulse and his head drooped in relief. Sam wasn't dead, he wasn't dead yet and Dean wasn't about to let that happen. Shifting his grip back to Sam's shoulder, Dean focused on the road.
The Impala responded to his touch, growling loudly as they fought together to save Sam's life. Maddie shifted in the back sit and Dean spared a glance back at her. Her eyes were clenched close and she was gripping the door handle like her life depended on it as he took another turn far too fast.