A/N: I wasn't going to post this, but then since I'm going to be gone until Sunday, I figured it'd be cruel to make you wait THAT long so I decided to go ahead and post. We're getting down to the wire here--three chapters and an epilogue after this one. Which is crazy to think about. And Gem told me to post, and since I do everything she tells me to do... But anyway, rambling aside, here it is!

Chapter Twenty

Dean moved swiftly and purposefully. He still knew which exorcism to use, and the conjuration rite and binding spell were frequently used passages in his father's journal. It was simple enough: conjure it, bind it, and exorcism the thing back to hell where it belonged.

But Dean knew there was nothing simple about this job. Not when this thing had been in Sammy's head the way it had. Not when this thing had come so close to overthrowing Sam's strongest asset. Not when it had nearly undermined the very fabric of trust between Dean and his brother.

The woods were still and cool in the summer night. Dean could feel the holy water in his jacket pocket and he carried the journal in one hand and a flashlight in the other. This ended here and now.

The transition to corporeal form would have weakened the demon, and it would not be able to resist the conjuration. Dean knew it was risky, but counted on being able to see the demon before it could attack him. Stealth was no longer on its side, and Dean pegged his confidence on its confusion at its new form. After all, after several hundred years of invisibility, he figured the demon was probably a little rusty being corporeal again, if it ever had been.

Dean found a small clearing, and figured it would do. He pocketed the flashlight. Then he steadied himself, and began reading.

At first nothing happened. His words resounded eerily in the trees.

Then, the forest hummed and a wind picked it up. The rite was finished, and he tentatively flipped the pages, waiting.

Above the rising din, he heard it.

You failed him.

Dean flinched, clenching his jaw. He took out his flashlight, switched it on.

You've failed him in so many ways. And you will fail him still.

Dean shook his head, trying to clear the voices from his head. They were so strong, so insistent.

You can't protect him.

It was here. He had to find it.

He turned, letting the flashlight flicker around the thicket. "Show yourself, you bastard!"

Then his flashlight caught something, a brief movement in the trees. With that, Dean turned his page, quickly beginning the binding spell.

The demon hissed in anger, thrashing, but the binding spell had done its job. But Dean knew it was not a permanent spell; he had to work fast, send this demon back to hell before he overcame the limitations of the spell. Without hesitating, he flipped to the next earmarked page. His Latin had never been fluent, but he was practiced tonight, and adrenaline eased his tongue's awkwardness as he began the exorcism.

"You came alone," the demon said in a voice he recognized, the voice that had been in his head. Its timbre made his Latin hesitate.

He glanced up.

It was staring at him. "I did not think you'd come alone," it said.

Dean ignored him, turned back to the page, picked up again.

"You cannot protect him."

Dean spoke the Latin louder.

"He will still succumb. He is weak. A betrayer."

The anger in Dean's stomach boiled over--this thing had the audacity to sit there and mock his brother, to talk about his brother like he was a victim, some weak sniiveling nobody. This was the thing that had nearly turned Sammy's mind against himself. He charged the demon, fuming at it just beyond where it stood. "Shut up."

"His power called to me and I sought him like a beacon. Such power, such raw power. I could not resist. He was so easy to play with, so much fun to manipulate."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to manipulate your ass back to hell."

The demon seemed unfazed. "You deny his powers, downplay his abilities to protect himself, to protect you. But it makes him weak to the real threats."

Dean's hand clenched around the opened exorcism, but he could not bring himself to start it up again. His anger was too pervasive, too insistent. "Shut up."

"Do you think he doesn't remember? Do you think he doesn't feel?"

"Shut up!"

"You are afraid to hear because you know it is truth. You run from it like the coward you are. You cling to him because you are afraid. You protect him because you are afraid of losing him. You base your life on half truths."

Dean grabbed the demon's robes and pulled it close to his face. His voice was low and seething. "I am going to kill you."

The demon let out a hissing laugh. "Threats mean nothing to me. Your words are vanity, as they always are. You value them so little, heed them so irreverently. Words have been his destruction all along. Promises to talk never satisfied. Grief never expressed. Bonds rarely validated. Forgiveness so rarely given, even less asked for. It's the words that haunt him—the voices. You do know that, don't you? The dreams he has? The one of his girlfriend. She always asks him why and he never knows.

"But that is only one time of many. He hears so many voices. The voice of his father, comparing him to you. The voice of your father, never giving the praise, the love, the affection he so desperately wanted. Do you think he doesn't hear those words your father spoke to him that night? Ultimatums when he craved acceptance? He was broken by silence then and he is broken by it now."

Dean trembled, his face close to the demon's, meeting its eyes as it sneered down at him.

"Just as you failed him then, you fail him now."

Dean's arms were taut, every muscle straining with the exertion of not ripping the demon's head from its neck. He took a shuddering breath. I can't tell sometimes. What's real, what's not. It was doing it to him, too, Dean realized suddenly. It was trying to stall him, trying to wait until the binding spell was weak enough to break It knows everything, knows how to use it all against me.

Shaking, Dean released the demon and stumbled backwards. One thought anchored him I can't fail Sammy.

He didn't spare the demon a look as it kept spewing vengeful truths at him.

"You won't be able to save him."

Dean let his voice rise, filling the dark forest with the ancient language.

The demon writhed. "You call him selfish, but you're the one who brought him back into this life. You brought him back to die with you."

The words cut Dean, and his Latin stumbled, but didn't stop.

"You're glad she died. You're glad she died and gave you back your brother."

Dean's face twitched with anger; he read on.

"You know he dreams about her and you don't want him to stop dreaming for him. You want him to stop dreaming for you. So you can have him back again. But you'll never have him back. Because he's broken. He's a betrayer. He left you twice."

But he came back, he came back. Dean's words paused before he clumsily flipped the page and shakily resumed reading.

The demon grunted, his eyes narrowed as pain lanced through his being. "Then he turned the gun on you, too. He's weak, and you can't save him from his own weakness. That's why you'll lose him. You'll try and try, but you'll fail him in the end."

Nothing bad is going to happen to you. The words flew. You're my brother and I'd die for you.

Its chest heaved with exertion. "Even now you're losing."

The words were tapering off, the exorcism almost done. Dean could feel it weakening, hear it in its voice. "It's almost over," Dean said, moving forward, a smile playing mockingly on his lips. "It's almost over and then we'll see who's laughing. You won't lay a hand on Sammy again."

It grinned wickedly, letting his eyes bore deeply into Dean. His voice was slow, even, menacing. "I won't have to."

Dean's heart dropped and his stomach went cold and Dean spat out the last bits of Latin with vehemence. "Amen."

There was a violent hissing and the foliage around him bent a danced as the demon began to tear apart. Dean ducked as debris began flying.

It was dying, but it certainly wasn't going quietly.

The ground shook and the trees quivered. There was a loud roar and a rush of light. Then the commotion collapsed within itself.

And all was silent.

Dean peaked out from his arm, to be sure the demon was indeed gone. But the forest was still and he could hear the hum of crickets starting up again and the stars twinkled between treetops. Dean let out a breath.

It was over.

The demon was dead.

But then his heart fluttered in his chest "I won't have to."

Demons lied. Demons could get inside the mind, especially this one, and use one's own fears against him.

For some reason, though, Dean believed this one and the thought made him numb.

Sam.