A/N: A little extra chapter for those who are with Dean and Sam down there :-) Enjoy.
The beams of their headlights danced over the ground. The blood trail was gone, but the metal rails showed fresh grinding marks.
"Seems like our fugly grabbed a mine cart for his take-away meal", Dean said.
The darkness was pressing down on him, reaching out sticky tentacles to invade his mind. Images tried to crawl up from where he'd buried them. He'd never get rid of them.
The pain. The fear. The desperation. The self-loathing…
"Dean? You alright?"
He swallowed.
"Sure, m'fine. Let's follow the rails. Maybe there's still time to save them."
As if it ever worked like that.
TBC