Chapter 11

Proudly presenting chapter eleven. I hope you're all here, still enjoying the ride. Thanks for all your feedback! It's really, really fun to read all your reviews!

Dean parked the Impala close to the forest outside the town. There was no one else on the road at that hour. The silence felt vaguely unsettling. Like some great reckoning was coming.

The forest seemed to recognize them, as if acknowledging they had to be there. Piru's influence was still felt as a vague presence in the wind. But it was hard to tell if his will was really bent against the Winchesters.

Sam and Dean had sent Piru a message on the number he had used to call Dean. They had kept it simple: Meet us at your cottage for a new game. We'll settle the score there.

"What if he realizes it's a trap?" Dean wanted to know.

"Oh, he knows it's a trap," Sam replied. "But he'll be there anyway. He can't help himself. We issued a challenge to him, after all."

They had. But that did not mean Piru was going to play fair.

"He probably already has his own tricks up his sleeve," Dean said. "He's anticipating us going in that cabin together, and he's probably already thinking of a way to turn the tables on us. He won't let us see our plan through."

Sam glanced at Dean. He knew his brother was not saying all these things just to prove how pessimistic he could get.

"I'm guessing you have something in mind?"

Dean nodded grimly.

"Let's call it plan C," he said. "And my plan Cs always work."

Sam refrained from commenting that Dean's plan Cs were also the ones that usually nearly got them killed. But Dean's desperate recklessness had kept them alive in the past.

"So, what are you thinking?" he asked.

xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx

The cabin was quiet and dark. The iron rods still stood guard around it. Piru was probably unable to touch them. Not that it mattered too much. He might not have given the Winchesters the full experience of his powers, but even weakened by the rods, he was strong enough to be a menace.

Sam pushed the door open quietly. He had not really agreed to Dean's plan, but he had been forced to acknowledge it was the best they had. At least their rock-paper-scissors session had ensured Sam would be the one going inside first. He knew Piru was waiting. He knew that whoever walked through that door would find themselves a target of Piru's head games.

Reality shifted in front of Sam's eyes. The cabin vanished. Instead, he found himself alone in a dark corridor. There were doors on either side of him. All were closed. He debated opening one. Perhaps it would take him back to the cabin. Then he dismissed the idea. He did not want to see what Piru had prepared for him in those rooms. Anyway, his role was to keep Piru engaged for as long as possible. Which meant playing his game.

He took several steps until he heard something up ahead. A child crying. Without thinking, Sam headed in that direction, quickening his pace. He hoped Piru had not resorted to kidnapping children. That would make things more difficult, considering their plan of action.

Further ahead there was an open door. The lights inside were dim. The crying came from there. Sam made his way towards it and stopped dead in the threshold. There was a young boy there, and he couldn't be more than four years old. He was crying as if his heart would break, but Sam knew he could not be real. Because he recognized the boy. He had seen him in photographs, after all. Dean. This was Dean at four, and judging from the soot on his torn clothes, it must have been immediately after the fire.

Before he could stop himself and think rationally about what he was seeing, Sam took a step inside the room. The image shifted before his eyes and now he could see Dean as an older child, counting money that would not be enough to feed the both of them. Then he changed into a version from several years later, when Sam had run away at Flagstaff, and then Sam got to see the desolation in his brother's eyes the night he had left for Stanford.

And it went on, the images always changing, but always Dean, always the hurts he had suffered, even the ones of long ago Sam had hoped they had both put behind them – Roosevelt asylum, and their dead dying, and then Sam the first time and on and on, Sam got a front row seat to his brother's suffering while he stood there rooted to the spot, having completely forgotten the reason he was there in the first place.

He got as far as a series of images of Dean in Hell when he finally staggered out of the room and leaned against the wall. His hands were shaking, and he was sure there were tears in his eyes.

"Enjoyed that little trip down memory lane?"

Sam struggled to put himself together and disengaged himself from the wall, gun at the ready. He was back in the cabin and Piru was smirking at him from across the room.

"I do hope you won't try to shoot me again," he said. "I would have figured you've learned your lesson by now."

"What the hell did you just do?" Sam asked, still shaken, still unable to get the images of Dean suffering out of his mind.

"Oh, that?" Piru asked lazily. "Just a little greeting. I know you're here to kill me, Sam. Or trap me. That was self-defense."

"What you showed me…" Sam began.

Piru interrupted chuckling.

"Made an impression, didn't it? Remember when I told you Lucifer lacked subtlety and imagination? In all that time he had you in the Cage – how long was it, by the way? 100 years? More? - in all that time he was focused on your pain. Even when he did show himself as Dean – which I bet he did often – it was only to show you that Dean was disappointed in you, or mad at you. He always showed Dean in relation to you. I wonder why he never tried to simply show you what I've shown you. I wonder how he didn't figure out that you seeing your brother in pain would have broken you much quicker than anything he would have done to you."

Sam looked away. He could not deny anything that Piru was saying.

"Where is Dean, by the way?" Piru asked.

"Safe," Sam said shortly. "You're dealing with me now. You're right about one thing – I don't want to see my brother placed in harm's way. And I won't let you anywhere near him."

Piru snorted.

"Sam, you are aware that, once I'm finished with you, Dean's next on the list? It's a matter of principle."

"Why do this, though?" Sam demanded. "Why not let it go? Just head back to Finland, and we'll call it quits."

Piru threw back his head and laughed.

"Sam, I'm not naïve. You won't call it quits. Neither will the hunters there now that they know I'm active again. I've been eluding them for years before that little ignorant child dared to bind me. No, Sam, I think I'll try my luck here. I might even gain quite a few supporters – after I dethroned the Winchesters."

Sam smirked, his and tightening on the gun.

"Try it."

It was all postulation and he knew it. Piru was bound to see right through it, too. He hoped Dean would be done quickly. Sam did not know how much longer he could keep Piru engaged.

"We promised you a game, didn't we?" Sam continued. "A challenge of our own. A battle of wits. And, if we outsmart you, you get to do what we ask. Isn't that how it works with you?"

Piru tilted his head.

"And if you win, you'll simply tell me to head back home, no strings attached? Sam, you and your brother have been known to double-cross us before. You don't intend to have me leave this cabin alive, do you, Sam?"

Sam shook his head at that.

"There's no way to kill you, is there?" he pointed out. "At least, not with anything we can get our hands on quickly. Why are you afraid?"

Piru took a step towards Sam.

"Because I know better than to underestimate you."

He raised his hand as Sam braced himself for whatever Piru was going to do to him. The backdoor to the cabin opened with a creak followed by the sound of something splashing on the floorboards. Sam's nose wrinkled as the strong smell of gasoline invaded his nostrils. Still, his posture relaxed. This was what he had been waiting for.

"I think you did underestimate us, after all,"

Dean's voice sounded tight and hard, the voice he used when he was at his most dangerous, the one that had frightened Sam at some point when he had been afraid of Dean becoming something like Gordon Walker, who hunted and killed without discrimination.

"See," Dean went on, "We figured you'd fixate on whoever walked through that door. And you'd try to mess with them."

"And you're in this place surrounded by iron bars that are seeping at your power," Sam added. "You don't have the energy to stop an attack on two fronts."

"And as clever as you think you are – you don't know us at all. Yes, we're both willing to give our lives for each other. But not when there's a better plan."

Piru eyed the lit match in Dean's hand. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

"That won't kill me, you know."

Dean nodded, acknowledging Piru's words without a fight.

"It won't. It will keep you on ice, however – hopefully for good"

Piru raised his eyebrows.

"Do you really believe that? I have allies back home. Friends even more powerful than I am. It might take a while, but once they figure out I'm gone, what do you think they'll do? Some are not as easy-going as I am. If they find out what you did to me, they're gonna be pissed. Then they'll free me, and when I come out of this I'm gonna be pissed."

Dean and Sam exchanged a brief glance. That was always a risk, that something might come back to bite them, and it had happened so many times that they were used to it.

"It's a chance we're willing to take," Sam said. "At least it would keep you out of the way."

He flung himself at Piru, fully aware nothing he did could actually cause harm, but his mission was still only to distract and weaken, until Dean had done his own thing and Piru would be powerless, unable to escape. They both crashed to the ground, and Sam struggled to keep Piru immobile.

"Dean!" he called to his brother. "Dean, now!"

Dean dropped the match on the floor he had already doused with gasoline. The flames erupted quickly. Sam sprang up while Piru was still lying on the ground, a confused look in his eyes, as if he could not really believe the Winchesters had played him in such a manner.

Sam moved away from Piru and headed for the door, knowing they had to get out before the fire engulfed the cabin completely. A shout and a crash from behind made him spin around, in time to see Dean on the ground. Piru had grabbed his ankle and tripped him, clearly intent on trapping Dean with him in the flames.

The fire was now almost completely between Sam and Dean, the smoke blinding and chocking. Sam staggered back against the heat, then shook his head in determination. He ran towards where Dean lay, ducking the flames. He knelt before his dazed brother and pushed him away from Piru, dragging Dean up, holding on to him even when he was sure Dean could stand on his own. The brief journey towards the door felt like an eternity, with the wall of flames rising ever higher.

They were out, and Sam flung the door shut, even though he was sure Piru would not be getting out without help. Then, he dragged Dean further away until they were at a safe distance from the cottage. He stopped then, too exhausted to take another step.

Dean fell to his knees and Sam joined him, still clutching his brother's jacket. They were both covered in soot and coughing as if their lungs would explode any minute now. But Sam did not care. Because he had managed to pull Dean out of the fire – and he had always wanted to be the one doing that for once.

One more chapter to wrap things up, then I'll be back with new story (chapter 1 of that is already halfway done, won't be a sequel to this, though, although I did leave the door kind of open for a sequel if I'm ever in the mood).