Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the characters of Supernatural or anything related to it. All belong to Kripke.

"Time's up," hissed the demon.

Sam opened his eyes. He'd been trying to hide himself inside himself, create a little pocket where no one could hurt him. The walls were built but the door just wouldn't shut. The others had placed candles at the five points and lit them. The smell of wax combined with the bitter scent of some herb Sam couldn't identify formed little piles around the circle. This was it.

The demon knelt next to Sam and sliced open his t-shirt. "You know, it's tradition to make wounds for the demon to enter the victim." He drew the knife lightly down each of Sam's ribs but didn't cut deep enough to draw blood. "But in your case, one spot is all I need to make the cage." With that, the demon leaned on the blade so that it pierced Sam's absomen right under the rib cage. Sam screamed with the pain and jerked up only to be halted by the ropes. His breath came in gasps and sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip. He barely felt the knife withdraw, barely felt the blood begin to flow down his side. His world was on fire. Fire. Right at his fingertips. The demon lifted the knife, now glistening in the flames, above Sam's heart and began to chant. A dark column appeared out of nowhere and hovered above the boy.

Three things happened at once. The knife and black column began their descent simultaneously, a wall of force shot out from Sam with gale force, and the other figures screamed when they felt the pressure of John's spell. Both knife and column halted and could not descend further. The candles were thrown into the hay where they ignited the dry straw. The herbs scattered in all directions.

The demon and Sam locked eyes. The demon could not lower its blade any further. The small flames burst and grew. The front door slammed open and Dean barreled in. The demon broke Sam's gaze and looked up. Shocked. What had happened? Why wasn't he dead? No matter but someone would pay. He tried once more to drive the blade down, but it was knocked spinning out of his hands. There was no time to finish the ritual. The flames were roaring and reaching towards the ceiling. Time to cut his losses. He walked towards the back door and the cooler air outside.

Sam had no thought other than to keep that knife away from his chest. He could feel his energy escaping with the blood pooling against his side. It would be only a short time. He had to hold on just a little bit more; then he could go into his inside room and hide. He heard Dean calling his name. That was impossible. Dean was dead. No, it must be Dean waiting for him. Maybe Mom and Jess would be there too. Dean was telling him to stop pushing him away; he couldn't reach Sam. Strength rapidly seeped out of Sam. He knew the demon had left the circle. The heat from the fire reached Sam. It was fitting in a way. He would die like those he had condemned by his very existence: Mom and Jess. Finally, he could pull the door shut. Sam closed himself away and waited for the end. His mind's eye slammed shut.

Dean beheld his worst nightmare. His brother was tied down at the demon's mercy; his whole abdomen bathed in blood. The ritual was obviously not complete but how could it be stopped? He didn't know, but he rushed forward hoping to distract the demon, take it out, anything. Dean saw Sam's hands form claws right before a haze erupted from them. The haze pushed the candles into the hay and stopped the demon in its tracks. It also stopped Dean. He could only stand there trying to force his body a little closer to that of his baby brother. Sam's mouth was open in a shout of denial. He was fighting back with everything he had, and it looked like it was working. Dean couldn't get any closer to Sam; the winds kept him from advancing. He glanced at the other possessed men, saw they could not interfere, so he focused on the enemy. It seemed to realize it could not finish, stood, smirked at Dean and walked away. No time to chase it. Get Sam.

"Sam. You have to stop. It's gone. Come on, Dude. Let me in!"

A shudder racked the bound man's body, and he collapsed inward along with the unseen wall. Dean slid to his side. The hairs on his hands were starting to curl from the heat. He drew his knife and cut the ropes that bound his brother. Sam's eyes were open, but there was no recognition in them. There was no life in them. Dean frantically searched for a pulse and found it. What was wrong?

"Sam. Come on. Get up! I can't carry you." Dean half-sobbed. His chest ached. His brother didn't respond. Dean knelt near Sam and pulled his torso upright. He struggled under the weight of his brother's body until he was able to pick him up in a fireman's carry. He struggled towards the doorway and into the cooler air.

Dean had barely cleared the threshold when his legs gave out. He looked around for his father. "Dad! Where are you? We need help!"

John heard Dean call out, but he had his eyes set on the demon. He had seen it leave the building and the circle as though the powerful spell had no effect. He straightened his shoulders. There was a score to settle; not just for him but for his boys.

The demon looked back over its shoulder. "Which will it be? Me or your boys?"

John heard Dean's voice again. Panic gave it a tone it rarely held. John stepped back from the abyss once more. He turned and hobbled off towards the front of the building.

Both boys were on the ground. Dean hunched over Sam to protect him from flying embers. A soot-stained face looked into John's. "I can't carry him, and he won't wake up. He's alive, but he won't answer me."

Sam's vacant eyes struck fear in John's heart. He leaned over and helped Dean to his feet. "All right son, let's get him up."

Together, the two men lifted Sam off the parking lot's asphalt and carried him between themselves, Dean on the left and John on the right. They staggered off to the car. John reached down with his free hand and opened the back door. "Get in first."

Dean climbed in and pulled his brother in after him. The slippery feeling of Sam's torso made him sick. How much damage were they doing just carrying him? No time. Dean slid over and Sam's legs came into the car. John folded them, wedging Sam's feet onto the floorboard, and slammed the door shut. He fell into the driver's seat and started the car.

Sam's body was completely limp against his. Dean tried to find a pulse at Sam's wrist, but it was raw and blistered looking. He put his fingers on his brother's neck. His pulse was rapid and weak.

"Here Dean." John tossed the first aid kit into the back seat. Dean dug through it until he found the gauze pads. Not nearly enough to stop the bleeding. Dean turned on the ceiling light to assess the damage. Sam's wound was bleeding profusely. Dean pressed his right hand over the wound, hoping the compression would help. He used his left hand to pull out his phone and dialed the newest number.

"Dr. Ashcraft. We've got Sam, but he's hurt real bad. He's been stabbed and is losing blood very quickly. We're on our way."

Hanging up the phone, the doctor set her emergency triage team on alert. Fortunately there had not been another emergency. She ran to the emergency room doors, waiting for a car to appear out of the darkness.

Dean cradled his brother's head in one hand and whispered in his ear. "We got you, Sammy. You're with us. You're safe. Please come back. Come on. You can't give up on me. I need you." His words became incoherent, but he hoped Sam could hear it was him.

John used the mirror to check on his boys. Dean never looked up once. He kept his eyes on Sammy. When would this nightmare ever end?

TBC

Hope you all like this so far; I've enjoyed writing it.