Happy Sunday everyone! (Well, late Sunday evening over here…). Let's have a new chapter now, shall we? As usual, thanks for the reviews I'm always fond of reading them. More notes at the end. Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Helmi stared in horror at the screen where what looked like tens of hiided were trying to break the bunker door. She could hear them above, the bangs and the shouts and the way they were calling directions to each other.

"They can't get in, though, can they?" she said. "Dean was saying no one gets inside this Bunker if they're not let in."

"The Bunker is technically warded from most supernatural intrusions," Ketch said. "However, that battering ram was probably forged by the hiidet themselves, which means powerful magic of a kind that might be too great to withstand. They might still break the door."

"So, how do we stop them from doing that?" Elias asked.

Ketch rolled his eyes.

"Lucky for you, I'm here. I've brought several blades with me. They're made by a Saami shaman, and they're specially designed to work on hiidet."

He searched through the bag he brought with him from the base and handed Helmi and Elias two long-bladed daggers. He kept two others for himself. Elias was staring at the runes on the handle, frowning.

"Do I want to know how the Brits have gotten their hands on Saami artefacts?"

Ketch counted to ten in his head. He needed Elias, for now. Mary and Castiel would remain by Sam and Dean's side and Ketch knew he could not deal with the hiided outside all on his own.

"Here's the deal," he said. "We can have a lengthy discussion on the ethics of my organization and whatever grievances real or imagined you might have when it comes to the British Men of Letters. After we get rid of the armed monsters at our door. How's that?"

Elias relented.

"I assume you have a plan you want us to follow," he muttered.

Ketch smirked.

"Good man. We get out through the garage and surprise them. Beyond that – nothing. Just stab what you can and ignore anything that tries to escape. I'm thinking it's Sam and Dean they want and they're trying to get to them while they're still vulnerable. So we can't let them lead us too far from the Bunker."

"What if Luohi's there?" Helmi wanted to know. "Or Piru?"

Ketch's lips thinned.

"You'd better pray real hard they aren't," he said grimly. "Because nothing that we've got here is going to do a damn thing to either of them."

xxxXXXxxxx

Sam allowed himself a brief moment of panic, then he tried to pull himself together. He needed to take care of Dean and he needed to get his brother out of there. Briefly, Sam considered taking them back to the lodge. At least Dean would be comfortable there and maybe this simulated reality, or whatever it was, came with doctors and hospitals – or, at least with bandages, Sam wasn't picky. But something was telling him that, if they went back, they would never be allowed to leave again. Up ahead, the swan was getting closer. If it reached them, they were as good as dead.

Dean had told him to keep to the path, which meant, it would probably lead to a way back to the real world. Sam eyed Dean assessing him. He could not determine the extent of his brother's injuries right then, but he had the feeling Dean would not be waking any time soon. It was up to Sam to get him out.

"All right," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "I can do this…I can do this."

It took him a while, but he managed to gather enough wood and branches to fashion a sort of rudimentary stretcher. He placed Dean on it and covered him with his jacket. Throughout all this, Dean did not stir even once.

"I don't suppose you're gonna be nice enough to actually be conscious for the next part," he told Dean ruefully. He shook his head as his brother remained unresponsive. "Thought so. You're always such a contrary jerk, you know." He realized he was babbling to settle his nerves and snorted. "Don't worry, Dean," he added more confidently. "I'll have us both out of here in no time."

He grabbed the stretcher and set off on his journey, doing his best to ignore the cold wind that was picking up speed around them.

xxxXXXxxx

Elias counted about ten hiidet outside. The first two were taken by surprise by Ketch, who made short work of them. The others recovered quickly enough, though, and went to deal with the threat. At least they stopped trying to break into the Bunker.

The fight was brutal, but short. Elias was sure two of the hiidet escaped. Taking Ketch's advice to heart, he did not follow them. Helmi got one and Ketch was slicing left and right. It took a while for Elias to actually concentrate on the fight, and he was acting on instinct more than anything. Bu, at least they were more or less winning.

He heard a crash from behind and swirled round. Ketch was on the ground with a hiisi above him. His knife had been thrown from his hand, and the creature was ready to tear his throat. Elias hesitated. He had no love for the British Men of Letters. Letting Ketch die was tempting. After all, his organization had let Elias' family die –had sent Elias' family to die. Elias had been fantasizing about vengeance more often than he wanted to admit even to himself. And now…well, this was an opportunity, wasn't it?

But he could not do it. He could not just stand by and watch someone die like that, whoever that someone might be. Elias swung forward and dragged the hiisi off Ketch, tossing it into the bunker wall. The hiisi snarled at him. It was ready to spring once again when he encountered Helmi's blade. Elias was sure the creature cursed all three of them when it died.

"Are you all right?" he asked Helmi.

She was looking at the dagger she was holding as if it was about to turn on her. She met Elias' eyes briefly and shook her head.

"Funnily enough, stabbing a mythical creature was not on my bucket list."

Elias turned to Ketch who was getting up. He noticed Ketch's narrowed eyes and mocking smile.

"It got rather awkward there for a moment," Ketch remarked. "I could have sworn you were ready to let that hiisi kill me."

Elias looked away, not wanting to admit close he had actually been.

"I'm not like you people," he said through clenched teeth.

Ketch raised his eyebrows.

"No," he said, and he sounded disappointed. 'Word of advice, Mr. Tahtinen. Don't leave loose ends. The Winchesters are leaving loose ends all over the place. It's why they keep almost ending the bloody world every year."

"They also keep saving it," Elias pointed out.

"Guys," Helmi interrupted them. "They left their battering ram here."

Ketch approached it and bent to have a look. He was frowning.

"I was wrong," he said. "This thing wasn't made by hiidet. It's just a garden variety battering ram. I don't think it would have done anything to the bunker doors."

"Well, why try, then?" Helmi asked.

Ketch huffed in exasperation.

"To test us. To see how far Luohi's plan has got. They attacked the Bunker, they'd have expected Sam and Dean to try to stop them – unless, of course, something was wrong with them. Instead they get me and two hopeless amateurs."

Elias bristled at that.

"Hey, in case you didn't notice, I saved your life back there."

"What I also noticed was you holding that dagger like it was an electric guitar you wanted to fling at your adoring audience," Ketch commented.

Elias rolled his eyes.

"That's a rather predictable stereotype. I'd have expected something more original. I don't even play the electric guitar."

"Ladies," Helmi intervened then. "I'm really sorry to interrupt your little pissing match, but aren't we supposed to burn the hiidet before they reanimate?"

Elias turned away from Ketch, shaking his head.

"Right," he said. 'Let's get on with it and then see what's happening to Sam and Dean."

He noticed Ketch smirking in his direction. He was probably going to regret saving his life at one point.

xxxXXXXxxxxx

Mary had frozen on the spot when she heard Castiel's declaration that they were losing Sam and Dean. She looked at her boys lying still in their beds, and she thought it could not end like this. She had barely acknowledged them ever since she had been back. She had barely had time to come to terms with the men they had become. They could not die now. They could not abandon her in this unfamiliar world that was theirs more than it as hers. Who would she live for then?

"Do something," she told Castiel. "There has to be something you can do."

Castiel shook his head.

"I cannot fight Luohi. If she traps Sam and Dean, if she makes it so they cannot find their way back, their souls are hers. And nothing we can do is going to bring them back."

"So you're just gonna give up?' Marry challenged. "You're going to just drop them?"

Castiel cast her a dark look.

"Of course I do not intend to "just drop them". There is not much I can do, but, I suppose I could try to guide them back. It's unlikely it will work, though."

"Well, try," Mary said. "They can get themselves out of anything. They just need a little nudge now."

Castiel nodded in agreement.

"I can give them a nudge, as you say, yes."

Mary watched as he approached her sons' beds and put his hand on each of their foreheads. His eyes were closed, his expression one of deep concentration. The silence in the room made Mary want to hit something. She hated it, sitting idly by while her sons were in danger. It could not end like this, she thought. There were so many things she had not told Sam and Dean, so many things she had put off because she had thought she needed time for herself. She should have remembered the golden rule of Hunters. Life was short. The next Hunt could kill you. Don't put off stuff till later – since there might never be a later. Mary realized then, Sam and Dean had been trying to tell her that all along.

xxxXXXXxxxx

Sam felt as if he had been moving for hours, dragging the stretcher with him. He was out of breath by now. He stopped and placed the stretcher gently on the ground. He knelt next to his unconscious brother.

"I swear," he panted. "When we get out of here, I'm taking you off burgers and bacon and definitely off pie. You can hate me all you want."

He realized he was rambling, but he could not stop. He needed something to keep the terror at bay. Both he and Dean had been through some pretty hairy scraps over the years. People often expected they were used to this – the uncertainty, the darkness, the notion that they could both lose each other at a moment's notice. They never were, though. Sam knew it did not matter how many times he nearly lost Dean. He would still be unable to get used to it.

Sam shivered. It was getting colder and it had started to snow. He tucked his jacket more tightly around Dean. He watched his brother's features carefully. Dean's face scrunched up slightly when the snowflakes touched him, but he still gave no signs of waking up. Well, at least Sam got proof he was still alive in there.

"You're doing this on purpose," Sam told him ruefully. "Making me carry all the weight, literally, while you're lying there taking a nap."

He shook his head and staggered up. There were footsteps behind them, and Sam was sure something terrible would happen to them if he did not start walking again. He had to get them out of there. It would have been a lot easier, if Dean could have walked under his own steam, but Sam could do nothing about that now. It wasn't as if Dean had not carried him countless of times in the past. Now it was just Sam's turn.

"I still think you should lay off the pie, though," Sam commented, as he resumed his trek.

He did not know how long he walked. Whenever he looked up, the black swan was circling above them, following them wherever they went. The path Sam had followed was becoming less and less manageable. There were weeds and thorns and branches Sam had to move out of the way before taking the stretcher there. He was reminded of the story of Sleeping Beauty.

"Of course, we both know you're the princess in this scenario," he told Dean.

For once he was glad Dean was asleep. Otherwise, he would have pointed out to Sam that the one who knew how the story of Sleeping Beauty went should not have been the one talking.

Sam found himself at a crossroads. He stopped, uncertain. Dean had told him to follow the path. But now the path had diverged. So, which way was he supposed to head? One way probably led to home. Sam knew, though, if he chose the wrong path, he would probably be taking them straight to Luohi.

"What am I supposed to do, Dean?' Sam asked, knowing he would receive no answer from his unconscious brother. "I don't exactly have a good track record when it comes to choices."

But he knew that he had to move. He had one chance to get his brother back to safety, and Sam did not intent to screw it up. Staying where they were was out of the question. The black swan would reach them eventually and there was something else as well. Sam knew he was being followed. Whether it was demons conjured up by his own mind, or whether it was Luohi and her curse, it did not matter. There was danger behind them, and Sam would lose his brother for sure if he did not move.

As he stood there, battling with uncertainty, he glimpsed a light up ahead. He stiffened at first. If Luohi was in control of his mind, she knew how to lure him to her. But there was something familiar about the light, something Sam was sure Luohi could not imitate. He was certain following the light would be safe.

"That better be you, Cas," he muttered.

The light flickered up ahead, impatient and insistent. Sam grabbed the stretcher once more. He glanced at Dean.

"Don't worry, Dean" he said, repeating the words he'd been saying at regular intervals ever since the attack. "I'll have you out of here in no time."

Maybe, Sam thought grimly, if he kept saying that often enough, he would manage to make himself believe it too.

-For those who don't know, the Saami are a people inhabiting the cultural region of Sapmo which stretches through the north of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia. Some of them do inhabit the Finnish region of Lapland, and that was why the entire Saami population was referred to as Lapps at some point, but from what I've heard it's not a term that is accepted by them (which is why I decided to refer to them as Saami here as well). Shamanism used to be the practiced religion until as recently as the end of the nineteenth century.

-Things are going to get a little busy for me for a while, but, don't worry, it's still one chapter every Sunday, until I can maybe move back to two chapters a week. See you next time and stay safe :)

-Not related to the story (or really to Supernatural in any way), but for any Babylon 5 fans out there: I was so heartbroken to hear of Mira Furlan's passing last week. Delenn was to me one of the strongest, most complex female characters in all the TV series I've watched, who was made even more delightful because Mira was an amazing actress who approached the character with so much class and respect. This is truly one of those things I can't quite process yet, like part of my childhood suddenly vanished.