I knew a man once who said, "Death smiles at us all; All a man can do is smile back."
- Maximus in Gladiator
Chapter Twelve - Heart of the Matter
Dean sprinted until he spotted a barn standing forlorn in the distance. A worn, dusty, falling down barn, the last remnant of an old homestead, and the last testament to a frontier family that tried to tame this wild land. In the coming darkness, it would have to do. His final resting place.
He pushed open the swinging door, half hanging with a broken hinge at the bottom. He walked in gazing in the dim light at the broken stalls and abandoned equipment. Nothing of value left here amongst the ruins. How appropriate, a place with no worth, yeah, this will do.
He settled into a corner, his back pressed up against the wall, watching the sun through the western window as it started to dip lower in the sky. He could feel his energy starting to ebb, his senses beginning to diminish. His time was almost at hand. His mind still cherishing all his memories, all the emotions and the wonders he had been bombarded with, yet he felt his grasp on this life slipping. The energy he had exerted now catching up to him as his body suddenly felt worn out. It won't be long now.
He pulled the gun from the waistband of his jeans and caressed it. He always liked this gun, it was sleek and smooth and an accurate shot. It fit in his hand, like a glove made to order. He realized he was dooming this gun to his same fate, Sam and Dad would never want to use this gun again.
As determined as he was, he gradually realized he was hesitating. He didn't want to leave Sammy, he didn't want to abandon his dad and his mission, and he wasn't ready to leave the wonders of this earth. Damn, I have to be strong; I know what needs to be done.
Minutes ticked on and still he waited….wanting to savor every last possible moment, every last sensation, and every memory, good or mundane, before tumbling into that black abyss.
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John and Sam took off in pursuit of Dean and quickly picked up his trail. John was an expert tracker and although Dean was skilled in covering his tracks, he had not taken the time or effort to do so. Obviously he was counting on time to be his greatest ally; if Sam had not discovered his brother was missing when he did they would not have this chance to stop him.
They moved quickly, knowing time was of the essence, amazed at how much ground Dean had managed to cover in such a short while. A major change must have come over him to allow such an exertion of energy. Joshua had warned John his strength would return in the final stages of his transformation. One last reminder, the end was coming.
They stopped just to the side of the woods, baffled momentarily as two distinct tracks converged there. Dean had met up with someone, someone with a light walk just like his. John sensed something sinister with this second party, the way it moved, the way it seemed to be stalking his son. All his training warned him this new player was a danger to them, a danger to Dean.
With a heavy heart he had to make a choice. He gave the life saving syringe to Sam and sent him on his brother's trail and he proceeded after the other's. His gut telling him this was their only course of action, his instincts driving his decision.
"Sam, remember what I told you. If he's turned, you shoot to kill."
Sam just stared at his dad, refusing to acknowledge the dire tone of his words.
"Sam, answer me. You understand?"
"Yes, sir."
John clasped his hand on his son's shoulder. It was meant to be a reassuring sign of solidarity and support, Sam shirked it off and took off on his brother's trail. John steeled his nerves and jogged off in a similar path on the trail of this mystery person.
As the dark clouds overhead stirred ominously, Sam nervously watched the sun as it approached the tree line, knowing once it dipped below the horizon his time would be up, Dean's time would be over. He increased his speed, grateful Dean had pushed him all those years to run track against him, pushed him to try to keep up with his older brother. Thankful for once that his long legs were getting him that much closer to Dean.
Up ahead he saw a broken down barn and he knew Dean was there. For once he could see the symmetry of his brother's thinking. Dean would deem that desolate old barn an acceptable place to die, he was sure of it.
He pushed open the creaky door and tried to peer inside, the darkness obscuring his vision. Silently he prayed he was not too late. He called out to Dean and received no response. He walked further in and again tried to make out any forms in the darkness. He heard heavy, labored breathing. Thank God!
Again he tried to connect with his brother, "Dean?"
Silence.
Then he heard a growl, a low frightening snarl, the fierce sounds of a beast, the sounds of a killer approaching.
"Dean? Please, you can fight this. I know you can."
He raised up his gun, but his hand was shaking so badly he knew he would never be able to fire it, not at his brother. It didn't matter what had taken over his brother, he was still Dean. He was still his protector, regardless of what Dad or nature thought, he knew Dean would never hurt him, he couldn't hurt him. I know you won't hurt me. Dean?
The only light shining into the barn illuminated a small stretch in the middle of the floor. Sam startled as a wolf appeared before him, fierce and wild. A sight more frightening then any creature they had ever faced in their battles with evil, more terrifying than the Demon, more horrifying than Satan himself. His greatest fear realized, as he came face to face with the violent reality of his brother's transformation. Oh God, Dean!
In that moment all his training deserted him as he froze in his tracks, unable to follow his dad's orders, unable to take his brother's life regardless of what that life had become. In an instant, he made the only decision he could make, he chose his own death over the death of his brother. He knew he could not live with the knowledge he had murdered his own brother, so he took the only way out he could, the noble way out. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
He felt the beast approaching and braced for the assault, still hoping his brother's essence would win out over this bestial influence, still stubbornly believing his brother's love for him would prevail. He felt the air move past him as the beast lunged and then a single shot rang out. His eyes opened wide in terror as the beast collapsed to the ground in front of him. With one last whimper the wolf stilled and he knew it was over, his brother was dead. He sank to the ground trembling, cursing the fates, wailing over his brother's death, tears once more filling his anguished eyes.
John ran to his son, pulling him to his feet, checking him over for any sign of injury, relieved that at least one of his sons had escaped harm's way. He pulled him to his chest, holding on for all he was worth, tears filling his own eyes. For once Sam hugged him back, desperate for the comfort of his dad's arms around him, desperate for any comfort to relieve the pain that was consuming him.
"Sam, are you hurt?"
"No." Sam pushed away from his dad, his eyes again filled with pain and fury. Now looking on his dad as a murderer, he stumbled away from him. "Why? Why did you shoot him? Why?" Sam cried out, tears overwhelming him.
"I didn't."
"What? I don't understand."
They paused and looked around the dark barn, finally resting their eyes in a murky corner opposite the door. Heavy breathing confirmed the gunman was lurking there. Whoever had fired the deadly bullet must be one of their kind, since he had used the necessary means to kill this werewolf. Another hunter, perhaps? As despondent as John was over losing Dean, he had to be grateful Sam was saved.
Their eyes then returned to the still form of the werewolf. With resignation, they waited for Dean to return to them, waited for his body to transform once more so they would at least have a body to salt and burn. Then they could at least mourn his passing.
The anxiety tore through John as the fear that had gnawed in his gut for the past week finally come to pass. He felt his legs give way beneath him as he sunk down to his knees beside the body, waiting. His heart beating wildly, his despair so intense he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. He concentrated his mind on the job at hand. I have to be strong now for Sam. Oh God, Dean!
The fur of the beast started to dim and skin once more shown through, the body finally released from its bestial prison, finally returning to its previous human form. The features of the human within the beast slowly became evident. Brilliant red hair laying softly against flawless ivory skin shocked the hunters and they both gasped as a woman's naked body emerged in the form, curled up upon herself, looking almost peaceful in slumber.
Their eyes returned to the dark space harboring the shooter.
"Dean?" John breathlessly asked, hoping his suspicions were true. Please God, let it be him.
"Her name was Rachel. She didn't ask for this. She didn't deserve this."
"I know son. You don't deserve this either. Let me help you."
"Dad, get Sammy out of here. Please."
"Dean, we can save you. Let us."
"Dad, it's too late, you know it. It's already begun; I can feel it taking control. I don't have much time; I need to do this. Please leave. I can handle this…, just let me handle this. Please Dad." Dean begged, feeling his strength waning and knowing he needed to act quickly before his resolve broke down and the beast won out.
"Dean, we have a shot that will cure you. You need to let me give it to you."
"No. Stay back. I don't want you to see this, but if you come any closer I won't have a choice. I'm sorry. I know I screwed this whole thing up."
"Dean, don't do this. Please." Sam begged, his relief that his brother was not the beast lying at his feet replaced by the fear of Dean's intentions.
"Sammy, please leave. I don't want to hurt you. I never wanted to see you hurt."
"Is that why you pushed me out of the way of that werewolf? Is that way you sacrificed yourself to protect me?" Sam quizzed.
"Sammy, that's my job, to protect you."
"I don't want you dying for me. Why would you think that?"
"Cause I love you Sammy. I told you that. If it comes to a choice, it's always gonna be you bro. I want you to live. I want you to have everything you ever wanted. Will you do that for me? Will you live?"
"But I don't want to live without you. I need you. Why would you do that?"
"Big brother's prerogative. It's my right cause I'm the oldest, and that means you've got to follow my orders. Don't waste your life grieving for me. That's no good…. Don't be like Dad, OK? You're better than that. You can move on, right? I want you to live Sammy, really live. You do that for me, OK?"
"Dean, trust me, this new shot will save your life. You don't have to die son. Let me come in. Just let me show you." John pleaded, trying to break through to his son's reason.
"Stay back Dad. I told you, I don't want you to see this, please leave now. I need to…."
"Dean, you listen to me." Sam stated more forcefully than he had ever spoken to his brother before. "Let Dad save you, please. I don't want you to die for me. Do you hear me?... Do you want to die? Is that it? Do you just want to get it over with? Cause that's what it sounds like. It sounds like you just want to give up! That's not my brother…. My brother fights, he has all his life. He doesn't quit, he fights!"
"Sammy, there's nothing left to fight with. I don't want to die for you…., I want you to live for me."
"Dean, you can live for yourself, just let Dad give you this shot. Please. Please try to live for me." Sam begged, tears rolling down his cheeks as he proceeded to walk into the shadows to face his brother.
"Sammy please, don't."
"If you're gonna do it, you'll have to make me watch. Are you willing to do that to me Dean? Are you willing to make me watch you die?"
"Sammy, don't." Dean wavered, his mind suddenly cloudy, his hand unsure, his resolve shaken. I'm so confused here, what am I doing?
As Sam moved closer the light from the side window gradually revealed his brother's still form. Dean was sitting on the ground with his back pressed up against the wall, his knees drawn up before him with the gun resting steady on them, both hands tightly wrapped around the grip, the barrel of the gun pointed at his heart, his finger trembling on the trigger. Sam gasped when he saw him.
"Dean, don't let this be how I remember you. Please. I need my brother, I need you. Don't do this, let Dad help you."
Dean looked up at his brother's pleading eyes and knew he could never subject him to this sight. He knew there was no hope for him; he still knew he was going to die. They were just postponing the inevitable, and his failure to accomplish his mission would only force his dad to later handle the problem. But in that moment he relented. He now knew he wasn't dying here in this place, and his brother would not have to bear witness to his demise, not like this. He clicked on the safety and placed the gun on the floor beside him.
"Sammy, I'm so sorry."
As soon as he heard the click of the safety, John rushed to his son's side. Dean looked half dead already, his eyes dimmed and vacant, his breathing pained and labored, his senses shutting down, preparing his mind for death, the effects of this bite bringing him to the brink of the abyss. The beast within waiting with bated breath, ready to inhabit his body the instant his spirit abandoned it.
John took the syringe from Sam and laid his older son down. One last, final shot. One last, final hope. He prayed his deepest, most heartfelt prayer at that moment as he prepared to inflict the last pain his son might ever know. He pulled up Dean's t-shirt and released the waistband of his jeans to once more gain access to his abdomen.
"Dean, I'm sorry for the pain, but this will work. I know it." John soothed.
Dean didn't even flinch when he inserted the needle into the still bruised and tortured stomach. Dean was numb all over now; he barely heard his dad's last words to him as he drifted off into the black mist.
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Thanks again to all the readers and reviewers on this story. Your support has been a tremendous gift. Thank you, B.J.