A/N: is there a reality show called "when chapters attack"? because that is just what happened to me. this one really got away from me, so it is pretty long. sorry i couldnt post it sooner, i have been really busy at work. i want to thank everyone again for all the great reviews, i am glad you all like it. i hope this chapter lives up the the hype. i am sorry again for all the typos of the earlier chapters, i am a bit dyslexic and proof-reading has never been my strong suit. i will try to do better. this chapter is not going to be betaed, but i think i may have found some one to do the rest. i swear i read each chapter at least three times. i guess there is just always going to be something i miss. well, on with the show.

also, i know nothing of the second season, my ideas about the aftermath of the car accident are just that, ideas. i am trying to stay as close to the supernatural universe as i can.

D: i forgot this on the last few chapters. alas, i still own nothing. except for shadow pine highway, but then, who in their right mind would really want that. :)

SHADOW STALKER

Chapter 9

Sam and John continued to pick their way down the side of the mountain, the weak daylight doing little to help their search. The entire forest seemed to be shrouded in an unnatural fog, so dense that it blocked out most of the light. The air was heavy with an all encompassing silence and Sam couldn't help the periodic shivers that had taken over his body. It was almost as though he could feel the fog, sense it inside his mind and his body. It was speaking to him, whispering to him, the words only coming into his mind as an unintelligible haze. And with that haze he could feel the weak sensation of emotions, like a muted version of what had attacked him earlier. He shook his head, his moppy brown hair falling over into his eyes, dampened by the dense air around him.

"Are you ok?" John asked, turning when he noticed his son had fallen behind. He looked back at Sam, concern evident in his eyes. He had still not fully come to terms with the powers his youngest son possessed. The visions and telekinesis were too much for him to take in. He understood both phenomena all to well, and normally they wouldn't have fazed him. But this was his son, his flesh and blood, it wasn't supposed to happen to him. The supernatural was something John had trained himself to fight, to defeat. How could he fight his own son. "Is it a vision?"

"No, nothing like that. It's almost like what attacked me earlier, but weaker. Like I can sense it off in the woods."

"Is it coming for you again?"

"No, I don't think so. Not right now anyway. I can just feel it."

"What do you mean, you can just 'feel' it?"

"Well, I get weird vibes sometimes, like when something supernatural is around I get a weird feeling. Dean told me I was a walking EMF meter."

"Yeah well, your brother should learn to take things more seriously. Especially when it pertains to you."

"Come on, Dad, don't start that up. You have to stop blaming him for things, it's killing him."

"Sam, you are his responsibility, he has to realize that. He has been skirting his duties lately, getting lazy, and it has to stop."

"Well do me a favor and just back off . You're turning him into a soulless drone, and he deserves more then that. He does the best he can."

"That's not always good enough."

"No, Dad. It's more then good enough, you have to open your eyes, before it's too late."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ever since the Demon, I don't know, he's been more self destructive in a lot of ways. I mean, there's guns blazing and then there's moronic risk. And he's somewhere right in-between the two."

"He'll be fine."

"Yeah, whatever." Sam grumbled as he moved past his father, his long strides taking him down the mountain at a faster pace. He knew he needed to get through to his father but John was even better at averting a conversation then Dean. He just hoped that it wouldn't take either his or his brother's death to make their father see the light.

John watched his youngest son storm past him down the hill and let out small sigh. He wished he could let Sam know just how much he cared about both him and his brother, but he could never find the right words. Plus, showing that kind of affection was dangerous in their field. Meg had taken them in Chicago as bait because of those emotions. He felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under him that night. The Demon knew them, more then they had even known themselves. It knew their weaknesses and it knew how to exploit them. And it had almost killed them all.

He knew now more then ever that he couldn't let them know how he felt, he couldn't let that kind of emotion slip. It would be used. Used to hurt him, used to destroy his sons, and he was not about to let that happen. He had seen the terror in Dean's eyes the night he was possessed and he had heard the pleading in Sam's voice as he watched his brother die in front of him. No, his boys were already too close, too emotional when it came to each other, he could not let that be the same with him. He had to protect them, had to keep them safe. And if that meant that he had to hide his feelings then so be it.

He knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn't be able to go on if he lost one of his boys. Losing Mary had left him with a pain, an emptiness he thought nothing could match, until the car accident. When he saw his oldest son on life support, when he heard the doctor say he may never wake again, when he saw Sam crumble in tears at his brother's side; that was the worst pain he had ever felt. That one moment of his life was like a stake through the heart. He could feel his soul draining away as he looked over his two lost boys. And he knew then, that losing them would destroy him completely. So he pulled away, and drowned himself in the hunt, never realizing that he was still losing his sons.

They had finally reached the bottom of the escarpment about an hour later, the hike had been hard, but thankfully not impossible. Scanning the flat forest around them John noticed that there were a number of places they would be able to set up camp in if the need arose. He could also hear running water off in the distance, and by the sound of it there was a pretty substantial amount.

"Sammy, do you have any maps with you?"

"Yeah, I got one of the state, and then some close ups of the national forests."

"Do you have one for Wenatchee National Forest?"

"Yeah, I think so. Is that where we are?"

"Yeah, on a road called Shadow Pine Highway."

"Wait, this is Shadow Pine Highway?"

"Yeah, why you've heard of it before?" John asked, nearly beside himself. 'There is no such thing as a coincidence.'

"Yeah, Dean mentioned it. He said someone told him it was an easy shortcut. I just figured he took another road."

"Sam, this is no shortcut, its an old logging road, it dead ends up near Richmond Highlands. It's said to be cursed."

"Cursed how?"

"I'm not sure, but very few have ever made it back alive, and the ones that did came out different. They were either crazy, suicidal, or homicidal. Did he mention who had told him about it?"

"No, he just mumbled the name of the road when we were at the diner in Boulder. Dad, we were lured here, all of us."

"Not all of us, just you and Dean. I guessed this road on my own. Joshua even tried to talk me out of it."

"Why would he do that?"

"He was worried about its history."

"And you bought that? No offense Dad, but he's been hunting longer then you."

"Yeah, but I know him son, and I have for most of your life, he wouldn't sell you out."

"I know, I'm thinking maybe someone used him, he probably didn't know anything about the area until he came up here with you."

"Well, lets just hope he's in better shape then we are."

John took a deep breath as Sam fished out the maps from his back pack. 'Not Joshua, there was no way.' He used to leave the boys with him when they were younger, and that was not a responsibility imposed on just anyone. The people John let the boys have contact with had to earn his trust at every level. There was no way he could be involved, he just wouldn't let his mind except that.

Sam pulled the maps from the side pocket of his back pack and unfolded them on the forest floor. He and his father then leaned over them, both searching for the elusive Shadow Pine Highway.

"There." John pointed to the barely visible line that was the highway a few minutes later. At first glance it did look like it would be a good shortcut, and it was obvious to Sam why his brother had chosen it. Had the road been completely passable it would have cut their trip down considerably.

"Do you know how far down it we are?"

"I drove for about three hours before I found the impala. So I would guess we are about here." John pointed to an area of the road.

"What are you looking for?"

"That." He pointed down below the outline of the road, to a series of blue lines that snaked around the forest. There were a number of rivers throughout that area, and a few of them were close by their current position. "We just need to find some way to boil it and then we will have drinking water."

"No need, I think there are water purification tablets in the first aid kit. We can use them."

"Good thinking. We can worry about food later, water was my main concern."

"Really, because the sadistic shadows that are trying to kill us were mine."

"You know, you really have been spending too much time with you brother."

"Your telling me."

"I think if we head dew east we should come across one of the larger streams."

"All right." Sam said as he scooped up the maps, packing them away as he followed his father deeper into the forest.

It took them about twenty minutes to reach the stream, which was more like a small river. It was about thirty feet across, and though not too deep, it was still running fast, swollen by the late summer rains. The water itself was murky brown, and frothy. It was fitting, Sam thought. This entire forest seemed to be half inside of shadows and half out, the sunshine merely a lesser cousin to the darkness. 'Why would the water be clear. It would seem unnatural compared to everything else.' Sam continued to look down in disgust at the water flowing before him while John began to fill some of the empty water bottles.

"I don't know if the purification tables can handle that."

"As long as the bacteria's gone it will be fine. What, you excepted desani or something?" John laughed as he looked up at his son. It was a simple fact that he enjoyed hiking and the outdoors much more then either of his boys.

"No. Maybe. I guess I was just hoping."

"As long as it's wet, Sammy, that's all I care about." He continued to smile as he dropped one of the tablets into each of the bottles he had filled. They now had a total of three full water bottles. He had decided to keep the two filled with river water for drinking while the third, filled with filtered water, would be used for first aid purposes. He still had no idea how injured Dean would be when they found him and he knew that the tablets would not make the water clean enough to pour into open wounds.

"So, Dad." Sam began, still looking over the water his father had given him. "What's your plan?"

"I think we should head back up the hill a bit. Even if he did fall, I don't think he would have made it all the way down."

"All right. We should head back in the direction of the car, I don't think he would have gone too far from it."

"Yeah, maybe the area behind it too, if he was looking for something you threw."

John was merely stating the facts, but his statement still hit Sam hard. This was his fault. It was because of him that his brother had gotten out of the car that night, it was his arrogance that had separated them. He wished with all that was in him that he had not thrown the tape from the window, but his mind would not let him stop reliving the last moments he had spent with Dean. 'If only I had given him a light. If only I had gone with him. He'd be here now.'

"Sammy."

"Huh, what?" Sam pulled himself from his silent torment and looked over to his father.

"I asked you what your brother was wearing."

"Oh, jeans and a tee shirt with a red flannel over it and his leather coat. And boots, he had his boots on."

"Ok. You know, Sammy, I'm gonna need you sharp here, you can't be drifting off on me."

"I'm fine, I'm sorry."

"We'll find him, Sam."

"Yeah." Sam answered weakly as he followed after his father, both men making their way slowly back up the mountain, keeping their eyes trained for some sign of Dean. They were both meticulous and silent as the searched every inch of the escarpment. Flattened grass, broken branches, displaced rocks; anything could hold the key to finding the lost piece of their family.

The search had been taking quite a bit more time then either of them had hoped, both knowing that finding Dean fast was their ultimate goal. Finally Sam couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Hey," he began not looking over at his father. "How bad do you think Dean is? I mean, you think he's ok, right?"

"I don't know, Sammy." John answered evenly.

Sam only nodded and look down at his hands, fidgeting with the cap of the water bottle he was still holding. Ever since he had found his dad Sam kept telling himself that they would all be fine, that his brother would be fine. But there was a deep unease growing inside of him. Something was nagging at him, telling him his brother was badly injured, maybe too injured. And that was not an outcome he could except.

"We'll find him though, right?"

"Of course." John answered strongly, finally looking over to his youngest. Sam was staring down at the ground, his eyes lost behind his damp hair. "Sam," John said again, forcing strength behind his words, needing to convey his determination to his son, "we'll find him. I promise."

"This is my fault, Dad. I'm sorry."

"Son, you couldn't have known."

"Yeah well, you were right, I should have been more cautious."

"Hindsight is always twenty/ twenty, Sammy. Now I need you to focus, maybe you can use that EMF thing of yours to find your brother."

Sam then smiled up at his father. He needed his dad to understand, to accept what was happening to him. Dean had done so with such grace, such understanding that it had made everything seem a little more normal. His father, however, seemed to recoil, shrink away from his long estranged son. Sam then tried to hide his abilities, to downplay them, give his father a son he would want. The fact that John had begun to come around was a blessing to Sam.

The abilities were a part of who he was, something that he had been born with. For so long he had tried to be someone else; someone he knew, deep down, he never would be. But ever since he had told Dean, something had been lifted from his burdened soul, and for the first time in his life he felt free. If John could accept him as Dean had, then maybe everything would be ok, maybe he could be normal.

They walked on for another half hour, still finding no trace of Dean, their unease growing with every step. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sam stumbled upon his goal. There beneath his feet was a large patch of flattened grass and broken branches. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the tattered remains of his brother's red flannel shirt.

"Dad, I got something." He yelled to his father, who had been searching the hill about twenty meters to his left. John then ran over, his heart pounding, thankful for even the smallest of signs. Dean had been missing for thirty eight hours, and to John, even an eyelash would have been something.

"It looks like he tore it up." John stated taking the shirt from Sam's hand.

"Yeah, for bandages probably. The trail leads that way. It looks like he's hurt his right leg though, there are drag marks next to his footprint."

"At least he's walking, Sammy." John smiled. He had expected to find his son laying in a heap somewhere along the mountain. The fact that he had been able to pull himself to his feet was like a breath of fresh air against the hunter's face.

"Hey, Dad?" Sam began, both men walking purposefully along the trail left by the missing hunter. "How are you planning on getting us back out of here, after we get Dean?"

"I'm still working on that."

"What do you think the shadows are?"

"Truthfully, I don't know, I've never come across anything like them."

"I was thinking, if you found the car where Dean and I left it, then maybe the shadows didn't take it after all, maybe they just cloaked it or something."

"I was thinking that. They must have some way of messing with our senses then too. If not, one of us would have walked right into the car."

"Yeah."

"I don't know if this is a curse son, I think we may be dealing with a demon here."

"What makes you say that."

"Curses don't manifest physically, and they don't steal cars. This thing, whatever it is, it can think, plan."

"I haven't seen any sulfur signatures though."

"I know, that's what has me confused. Unless it is just powerful enough to cover them up."

"So, how do we stop it then?"

"Exorcise it."

"Yeah, but it isn't in a corporal being, it's in the shadows, in the whole forest."

"Then we exorcise the entire area."

"You can do that?"

"I can sure as hell try."

Suddenly, without warning the winds picked up at a harrowing pace, blowing at the men from all sides, forcing them to the ground. All sound was drowned out by the roar of the winds around them, the fog misting into gray shadows, reaching at them from all sides. There was an anger on the wind, a hatred so deep Sam thought it would rip him in two. He looked up as the dim light began to fade further into the fog.

Sam could hear it, feel it; sense the anger and fear. The winds were screaming, loud and shrill, the sound mixing with a deafening roar. It was as though the entire forest had begun to attack them, lash out at them in a blind, empowered rage. The air dripped with the venom of the shadows, their voices screeching against his eardrums, entrapping his senses. But instead of giving into the pain as he had done before Sam pushed against it. He leaned into the wind and shouted above it.

"You can't have him. I won't let you."

"He is already mine. You lost him.'

"NO!" Sam screamed holding his hands over his ears. He felt the winds around him shift, and lessen, swirling away from the power before them. That's when he saw it. No more then a hundred meters away the faint outline of a body was visible in the grass, its back to Sam.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled into the fog, pushing himself to his feet with all the strength he could find. He shielded his eyes against the assaulting winds as he ran towards his fallen brother, all movement around him forgotten, the once deafening voices all but whispers.

"SAMMY!" John pushed himself up and followed after he son, failing to match the young man's speed. "SAM, SLOW DOWN!" He yelled again after the retreating figure, the fog rolling in between the two like a great brick wall. John could feel himself slowing as he pushed against the heavy air, his mind blurred by the mist around him. "SAMMY!" 'Not both, you cannot have them both. I will not allow it.' "SAMMY!" John screamed again, but his son was nowhere to be seen, his tall silhouette lost in the fog.

Sam didn't hear his father, he couldn't. His mind was focused on just one thing, 'Get to Dean.' He dodged around the swirls of fog as he drew ever nearer to the still form of his brother. His heart racing, mind spinning with what he would find a few meters away.

"Dean?" Sam landed on his knees at his brother's back, grasping at his shoulders and lifting Dean's bruised body into his arms.

Sam let a small sob escape his lips when he finally looked down at the man in his lap. Dean's skin was pale gray and cool to the touch, a thin layer of moister resting on his still body. His lips were a light shade of blue and his hair was matted to his forehead. Across the side of his face and over his forehead was a strange frostbite, almost like a hand of ice had caressed him, freezing the skin with its touch. He held his breath and pushed his fingers into Dean's neck, fearing the worst. The faint beating they found was like a breath of fresh air to Sam as he let out a long, shaky sigh.

"Dean, can you hear me?" Sam asked quietly as he scooped his brother's limp form further up into his arms, resting his head against his chest. He could feel the coldness of his brother's body seeping through his shirt, chilling him as he sat. "Come on, Dean. I need you to wake up." Sam pleaded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please just open your eyes. Please."

"I told you, he's already mine."

Sam's head shot up and he froze, there before him, misting out of the surrounding fog was a man made entirely of shadows.

"I will not lose him."

"But, my boy, you already have."

"No I haven't, not yet."

The thing before him only laughed, sending Sam into a defiant anger.

"Oh child, you lost him long ago."

"I won't let you fill my head with lies." Sam declared, pulling his brother closer, shielding him from the gray shadows around them. They seemed to be closing in on all sides, blocking them into that small area of space, the dark figure before him standing out against the dense fog.

"What lies? You know the truth. You've known it for over a year now. You have run from it, and denied it, but that doesn't change the fact that you know it."

"What truth is that?"

"The truth, is that you gave him up, willingly, a long time ago. I remember that night, you know, the one when you left. I felt his pain, his all encompassing despair." He motioned to Dean, his voice still laced with an unmistakable envy, an urgent need. "And you, I felt your joy, your freedom at being ride of him."

"That's a lie, if I could have I would have taken him."

"There is always more then one choice, Sammy." The shadow spoke his name with such vial hatred that it made Sam shiver. "Deep down, you didn't want him with you. You were afraid. Afraid he would drag you down."

"Shut up."

"You know I am right. That boy, a part of him died that day. Oh, the grief, the loss. It was so strong, so overwhelming. I had felt his emotions before, but that night, that is when I knew I must have him. And you."

"And me what?"

"In Nebraska, when you were told he was dying. The guilt, the self loathing, the pain. You are just as much a prize as your brother."

"What guilt?"

"He was there for you, always, even after you had given him up. You know, deep down, that you will lose him one day. You're guilty because you have made him an afterthought, a weak memory. He has such a powerful soul, it's a shame it will be forgotten."

"I will not forget him, and I will not lose him. I may have made mistakes, but I assure you, I will never make them again."

"You really believe that, don't you? You think, that if offered a normal life, you wouldn't just pass him off again?"

"Never. This is my life. He's my life."

"He's dying."

"I've stopped it before, I can stop it again."

"Really."

"I will not lose my brother to a bastard like you."

"Are you sure."

"Beyond a doubt."

"Would you take his place? Would you die for that boy in your arms?"

"Yes!"

The shadow then smiles its hollow smile, the air rushing towards it. Sam could feel the wind wrap around his body, feel the warmth seeping out of his veins. The world around him was slowly fading, the edges of his vision turning black. He could feel himself slipping away, could feel his mind calling in the deep shadows. In his arms he felt his brother begin to tremble, his body fighting to join the waking world.

And in that instant Sam knew. He owed this to his brother, to the man in his arms. It was his punishment for betraying him, for casting him off on his search for normal, never fully understanding what he had given away. Dean deserved more, needed more then Sam thought he could ever give. His brother was a hero, to more then just him, and the world needed him. Dean had the ability to do so much good, and Sam would be damned if he would take that away from him too.

Suddenly, out of the darkness that had invaded his mind Sam heard and earsplitting shriek, and without warning his mind was thrust back into the light of the day. His body was cold and trembling, but he was still breathing, his heart still beating. He looked around, the fog had moved off, pulling away from the brothers, leaving a dazzling light in its wake.

But there before him, the shadow still stood. It was hazier and less defined, but it was still there, its cold gray eyes staring down at the boys.

"You are still mine."

It then misted away, falling back with the fog. And out of the chaos Sam could hear a voice, his father's voice, chanting a banishing spell in a long dead language. It wouldn't last for long, that he knew, but it was enough for the moment. He looked down once more at his still cold and unconscious brother, knowing that the shadow would be back again, and next time he would be ready.

TBC

the next chapter will hopefully be up in the next few days, i am shooting for friday, but it may be saturday.