Title: You're Not Alone
Author: Nobdyptclr
Note: A surprise chapter on a weekday. Don't get spoiled - this is an exception to my standard Saturday posts!
Chapter 4: You Want a Piece of Me?
Sam had to admit that the burgers had been good, and the food had helped to calm his frazzled nerves. He just couldn't believe how callous their father was with all of their lives, or the fact that Dean always found a justification to defend Dad's actions. He could tell that the strain of coming up with excuses was starting to wear on his big brother but, for some reason, Dean seemed to think that he still needed to provide that protection. When he was honest with himself, Sam admitted that he was relieved to have Dean there to lean on when he was angry or scared and confused.
Wiping his mouth with one of the cheap paper napkins, he put his elbows on the table and looked expectantly at his older brother. "So what's the plan?"
Dean shot him a sarcastic half-grin. "Well, since I don't see us borrowing someone's kid for bait, we'll need to be a little more creative."
Sam grinned back, but didn't comment, gesturing for him to continue.
"Here's what we've got," Dean made an obscene gesture in response to Sam's motion. "First, we know that the demon materialized in the same place at least twice. Second, we know that demons can hold a grudge and might want revenge on the one that got away. Third, we know that beheading kills it, at least temporarily. And fourth, it didn't see me to attack me until I left the protective circle, so maybe we can use that."
Sam eyed his brother, "So you want to go back to the clearing we were in fifteen years ago, use ourselves as bait, use magic circles that might work to hid, if necessary, and cut its head off with a sword. Is that it in a nutshell?"
"Pretty close," Dean told him, and Sam wasn't sure if he'd missed the sarcasm or just chosen to ignore it. "Listen, Sammy, this thing got a taste of me, and it might recognize my blood. I'm saying we find that clearing and hide you away in a circle with the sword. The demon comes sniffing around and you kill it. Then we salt, burn, bind and hit the road."
Sam shook his head. "No way. It got a piece of me too. You're hurt, you go in the circle."
"There's no guarantee this will work, but if it does you should be the one with the sword," Dean paused, and Sam noticed he couldn't meet his eyes. "Sammy, with my ribs like this I'm not sure I could protect you." He hesitated again before rushing on, "I watched that thing chase you down once. I can't handle that again." Dean stood up from the table and moved to sit on his bed, flipping the TV on to indicate the discussion was over.
"Okay," Sam agreed quickly, thrown off-balance by the unexpected admission. "We'll do it your way."
"Fine. Let's do it tonight."
Sam swept the wrappers off the table into the garbage and stood up. "I'm ready when you are."
It only took about twenty minutes to locate the house that they had stayed in so long ago. Neither of them had been sure how to get there, but the town was small and the neighborhood had not changed much. The neighbors were still distant, and the only noticeable additions were a small swing set and a sandbox in the clearing.
Sam looked around as they walked up the street; Dean had parked discretely about a block away. He noted that they would be partially visible in the light cast by the street light, but the road was not a busy one. With a little luck, they had a good chance of getting through this without interruption.
Their conversation during their preparations was minimal. Dean didn't comment as Sam set up the protective circle, closing it around himself. Sam watched his brother wander aimlessly around the clearing, speaking only to remind him to stay close. Dean smiled grimly as he unsheathed his knife, "Let's give this thing a little reminder," he said as he ran the knife across his forearm.
Sam watched the blood dripping from his brother's arm and imagined the coppery smell of the blood drawing the demon in. He tightened his grip on the sword and scanned the clearing with increased vigilance.
Dean was muttering, "Come on bitch. You know you want a piece of me," as he walked around Sam's circle, watching for signs.
After about thirty minutes, Sam was pretty sure that the plan wasn't working. "Dean, what're we gonna do? I don't think it's coming."
"Impatient much?" Dean snapped. "Jesus, Sammy, we haven't been here that long. I spent half the night in that damned circle last time."
"Yeah, you did. But the demon didn't come till I came out of the house. I don't think this is working."
Dean sighed. "Fine. We give it another half-hour and we're done."
Sam opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when he got a good look at his brother. In the light of the streetlight Dean looked uncertain and worn-out, and his left arm was crusted with blood. He definitely didn't look like he had the strength to argue, but of course he would anyway if questioned. "Fine," Sam told his stubborn big brother. "Thirty minutes."
As Dean turned back to his pacing, Sam saw the porch light come on across the street. "Dean, we may have a problem," he called softly to his brother, watching a man come out of the house and start toward them.
Turning around, Dean cursed under his breath and moved to meet the man, pulling his sleeve down over his arm. Sam continued to watch from where he was, concealing the sword with his body.
"Good evening, sir," Dean put on his best professional demeanor, making Sam laugh to himself. The guy wouldn't know what hit him.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the stranger demanded.
"I'm Agent Switek and that's Agent Zito," Dean told him, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Sam. "We're with Federal Wildlife."
Sam eyed the distrust on the man's face. The stranger was probably in his thirties and a little on the plump side. He'd be no challenge for Dean, but they really didn't need the distraction.
"I don't mean to be rude, but I have my family to look out for," the man told Dean forcefully. "If you don't show me ID I'm going to have my wife call the cops."
Dean produced an ID card and a small maglite. "Now if you're satisfied, I have to ask you to return to your home. We are trying to track the animal that's been killing people around here. We're a bit busy." He reached to take back the card. Sam saw Dean stiffen and followed his gaze over the man's shoulder. A young boy, no older than ten, was coming down the front steps of the house, walking out into the street.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted, running toward the boy. "No!"
Sam wasn't sure if Dean was calling to him or if he was caught up in the past but, when he saw the demon materialize not far from the boy, he leaped from the circle and ran after his brother.
"Petie!" the man shouted as Sam brushed past him. "Oh my god!"
Sam watched, this time from a distance, as for the second time in his life Dean dove between the demon and its prey. Sam tried to race to his side, but the stranger jostled him and suddenly their feet were tangled and the sword fell out of his hand as they both hit the ground. He could hear Petie whimpering and his own harsh breathing as he scrambled to his feet, then the night was filled with screams – Dean's screams as the demon's teeth and claws tore at his flesh.
Sam felt a cold fury settle over him. Pushing Petie's Dad roughly to the side, he seized the sword and ran forward, driving it into the demon's back. As the creature dropped Dean and turned to face its attacker, Sam swung with all his strength, separating the demon's head from its body. He was on his knees at Dean's side almost before the creature's head hit the ground.
"Well that plan kinda sucked, huh?" Dean was pale, eyes closed and one hand clamped over a wound on his neck, but Sam felt relief wash through him as his brother spoke.
"There were some flaws," he choked out around the lump in his throat as he ripped the tail off his shirt. "Here, let go for a minute so I can look at that."
Dean complied and in the dim light Sam could see that blood was flowing freely from what appeared to be a bite where neck and shoulder met.
"Bastard went for my face," Dean muttered. "But I gave him something to think about." He motioned to the demon's head, and Sam saw his brother's knife buried in one eye. He quickly folded the material from his shirt into a square and began to apply pressure with shaking hands.
"Nice shot," he said, shaking his head. Leave it to Dean to joke around at a time like this.
Dean reached up to take over. "I got this, Sammy. Go get the salt and stuff." Sam hesitated until Dean cuffed him with his free hand. "I'm fine. We've got to finish this."
Sam nodded and darted back to the circle where he'd left their bag of supplies. When he returned, Dean was on his feet speaking with Petie's father, who had his son wrapped securely in his arms.
"…You're welcome, sir. There shouldn't be any further problems, but you should take your son and return to your home." Dean's tone was firm, and the man started across the street. Halfway to his house he turned back.
"What was that thing?"
Sam jumped in. "Mister, we are going to have to examine and classify it. Someone from the Wildlife Service will be in touch. Now if you could excuse us, we have to finish our job."
Nodding, but obviously still confused, the man retreated into his house.
"You go, Sammy," Dean laughed. "Now, let's get this over with."
Together the brothers salted the remains and lit them on fire. As the flames began to die, Dean sank to the ground.
"I think you're on your own for the binding ritual, Sammy," he said weakly.
Dean?" Sam knelt next to him.
"Finish it Sam and go get the car. I'm so ready to get out of here."
Sam took his jacket off, rolled it up and put it under Dean's head before turning back to the demon. The neck wound appeared to have stopped bleeding, but Dean was obviously at the end of his strength. Sam hurried through the binding ritual and returned to Dean for the car keys.
"In my coat pocket," Dean told him without moving.
Pulling the keys out, Sam ran down the street to the car. As he reached to unlock the door, he realized that his fingers were wet. The interior light confirmed his fear – his hand was coated with his brother's blood.
Leaping into the Impala, Sam flew back up the street to Dean's side, grabbing the first aid kit and flashlight on his way out of the car. Dean looked very pale and still in the beam of the light, but he opened his eyes as Sam approached.
"It might have tagged me a little harder than I thought," he said hoarsely, sending a chill of panic down Sam's spine. For Dean to admit pain it had to be bad.
"Let me take a look," Sam instructed, trying to keep his voice steady.
"It's okay Sammy," Dean reassured. "I think I stopped the bleeding. Just help me to the car and we'll take care of it at the motel."
Sam sighed with a mixture of frustration and love. When was Dean going to stop protecting him? "There's blood on your coat. I want to make sure it's all from your neck before we go anywhere." Not waiting for an answer, Sam opened the coat and shined the light over his brother. He sucked in his breath as he found claw marks wrapping around Dean's right side and saw that the left sleeve of his coat was shredded.
Sam exhaled slowly, trying to control his anger. "You fucking idiot! You could have bled to death while we were screwing around with the body!" He noted that, while the wounds were deep in places most had stopped bleeding. "Jesus, Dean, why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"Family trait," his brother gasped through gritted teeth as he struggled to sit up. "Gimme a hand, Sammy."
"It's Sam," he snapped back, but leaned down to help, taking most of Dean's weight as he led him to the car.
His concern was compounded when Dean allowed himself to be lowered into the passenger seat without any comments about blood on the interior of his baby, but the feeling was replaced by annoyance as a police car slid in behind the Impala. He cursed the nosy neighbor who apparently couldn't stop causing problems.
"Officer, can I help you?" he asked as the man climbed out of the patrol car. He saw his brother's eyes pop open and Dean tried to sit up a little straighter.
"I need to see some ID."
Sam reached for the federal ID that Dean had provided earlier. "Is there a problem?" He asked as he handed it over.
"A neighbor called about a disturbance," the officer advised. "Feds, huh?"
"Yeah. We're investigating the animal attacks."
"Can you explain what happened here? The caller said something about his son being attacked and swords and fire." The cop moved closer, eyeing Sam suspiciously.
"Officer, I'd be happy to give a statement, but right now my partner is hurt and I need to get him to a hospital." Sam made his voice as authoritative as possible. "Why don't you go speak to your caller, then meet me at the emergency room?"
The officer took a step back, and his suspicion was replaced by uncertainty as he glanced into the car at Dean. "Do you want an ambulance?"
"No, thank you," Sam responded. "I'll just get on the road now, and I'll see you shortly."
"I guess that would be okay," the officer told him, cowed by Sam's confidence. He watched the Impala pull away before turning to the house across the street.
"No hospital," Dean told him as he lay back in the seat.
"I kinda figured that. But I think I bought enough time to hit the motel and get you cleaned up before we get out of here." Sam glanced briefly at his brother before focusing on the road. He was determined to hold it together, like he knew Dean would if their positions were reversed. "Hang in there, Dean," he muttered, stomping on the accelerator, ignoring the fact that his brother didn't answer.
TBC