Try Honesty

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Point of No Return

Dean's the first to move, his eyes so wide that they would be considered comical given any other circumstance, he moves his gaze slowly to Sam, his baby brother rushes to his side, Eva's gone for now along with the little girl and the wailing of a thousand tortured souls. There's creaking and clattering drowning out Sam's words as windows and doors fly open and all Dean registers is Sam telling him not to move.

Sam swaps guns, shooting at the chains that keep Dean trapped, the rust means that they buckle to the bullets after a couple of perfect shots to the weakest parts. Dean falls forward and Sam catches him, kneeling in the pool of his elder brother's blood which reminds him to move fast. He's reluctant to pull the knife out of Dean's side but he can't risk doing more damage to Dean by moving him with the blade still embedded, so he pulls, a quick tug and Dean's screaming out and gripping so hard on Sam's shoulder that he might leave moon shaped imprints in his flesh even with the two shirts and the coat protecting him.

The scream makes Sam want to be sick, he holds Dean tightly, more so than is needed but it's not tight enough for him. He moves fast, finding his way out of the orphanage as if he had the blueprints for the place engraved into the backs of his eyes. He keeps glancing at his brother, he's pale and his eyes keep falling closed and Sam screams at him demanding to know where the keys to the Impala are, Dean points at the left pocket of his jeans, he goes to grab them but Sam's faster. He settles his brother in the passenger's seat, taking off the extra shirt and ripping it to make it longer, he wraps it tightly around Dean's abdomen, lets his hand linger on the skin beneath the make shift bandage.

Sam gently presses down on the skin surrounding the wound, Dean hisses slightly in pain but doesn't try to push his brother away or demand him to stop. The younger's eyes lift to meet the soft green of his brothers, Dean is forcing them to stay open, for Sam's sake more than that of his own.

"I think she missed all of your vital organs, in fact, I think she was trying to avoid them," Sam muttered and the confusion in his voice was just as evident on his face.

"Amazing," Dean all but whispered sarcasm dripping heavily from every word, "Sammy let's just head back to the motel and get me patched up, ok? I'm ruining the seat with all this blood dude and you'll be the one rectifying that if you don't get a move on." He smirks and Sam knows it's for his sake and not just Dean being Dean. The shirt he tied around Dean's abdomen had turned from light blue to deep red and Sam knows he's got to move because Dean's fighting to keep his consciousness and from the looks of it starting to fail.

He speeds to the motel, breaking every traffic law in the whole of America and almost killing a few people as well. He would rather have taken Dean to the nearest hospital, preferring to be safe rather than sorry, when he mentioned it however Dean just gave him a look that had definitely meant no.

When he pulled up outside of the motel Dean was unconscious and Sam bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. He moved as fast as he could grabbing a couple of bags that he would need out of the boot of the car before ripping the passenger door open and lifting his brother out. He felt as though he was moving too slow, kicking the motel room door open and then kicking it closed again. He gently lays his brother down on the bed nearest to the door, he lifts the elder slightly, quickly removing the leather jacket, the shirts he decides to cut off.

He gently removed the makeshift bandage of his own shirt, the blood flow had slowed somewhat, some signs of healing around the very edges of the wound but some of it seemed to have torn back open whether from Dean moving himself or from Sam moving him he doesn't know. He grabs a small battered looking first aid kit from the bag dropped next to the bed, opening it he grabs a cloth and presses it to the wound, after a few minutes he removes it, he grabs a bottle of antiseptic from the kit; he gently poured some onto the wound wiping it off with some cotton pads.

It takes Sam about ten minutes to finish stitching the gash; he rubs a small amount of antiseptic cream onto the area to help stop the bandages from sticking to the stitches as well as an extra measure to warn off any infection. He carefully places a bandage over the injury, when he's finished he just stares at Dean, checks his pulse because he has to be sure. He runs his hand through his hair, paces back and forth at the foot of the bed.

He remembers every time they've had to do this for each other, every pain filled moment when he swears that he has watched Dean's life slip through his fingers. He can explain every scar on Dean's body as well as those on his own, barring a handful which Sam assumes came from the time when he was at Stanford. He feels guilty about that but at the same time he's glad that for a while he didn't have to watch Dean suffer.

"You're gonna put a hole in that floor," the strained tired sounding voice met the ears of the younger Winchester, he turned to see Dean awake and trying to sit up, he rushed over to him, helping his older brother up, Dean gave him a suspicious look which Sam chose to ignore.

"How you feeling?" Sam asked and his older brother smirked a little,

"Better than ever," the younger rolled his eyes and sat next to his brother on the bed, "thanks for patching me up Sammy," he said and the smirk fell into a genuine smile, Sam smiled back.

"Dean, back there, did you actually think that I was going to kill you?" Dean stares at his brother and asks himself the same question, he wishes that he could say that he didn't, that he was just playing along, that he knows that Sam could never really hurt him. He wishes for all of it and more but he knows that he thought he was going to die in that room, he thought that Sam was going to shoot him.

"Sammy..." he doesn't have to say anymore, Sam just nods and looks for the entire world like a kicked puppy.

"What is all this about Dean? I would never hurt you, back in that asylum, that wasn't me," he places his hand on Dean's face, the colour starting to return to the elders flesh. "Could you kill me Dean?"

"Of course not you idiot," Dean snaps and Sam rolls his eyes, his hand falls from Dean's face, brushes along the elders bare arm and settles atop of his brothers hand, green eyes stare down at the touch, his eyes meet back up with his baby brothers seconds later. He looks hurt, he looks like he's about to cry.

"When you find the time Dean, listen to the rest of the tape," a tear slips from the corner of the younger's left eye and he can't believe that his brother doesn't trust him, doesn't think that he would lay down his own life in order to save Dean's. Sam would give everything he has and more to keep the other safe. "After everything I've done, it just takes a few choice words to have you losing all faith in me?"

"I don't know Sam," there's tears in his eyes because he's hurting Sam and for some reason he can't let go of any of it. He can't stop the words from repeating over and over again in his head, he thinks that maybe he should listen to the rest of the tape, maybe he needs to finish it, find some sort of closure in this. He brushes the tear from Sam's face and pulls him into a tight hug. "We're going to fix this Sammy, I promise. As soon as we're finished here, we'll work through this."

Sam nods but he knows it's just a way for Dean to escape talking about things; he's too tired to keep fighting against him all the time. His brothers far too stubborn and at the moment Sam's just far too tired.

They spend days like strangers, nothing more than a handful of necessary words passing between them when there wasn't any silence left to share. Their eyes never meet; they sift through research and anything they can find on the Rosenkreuz orphanage trying to will their problems away by simply ignoring them and pretending that they didn't exist. They hack into the town files whilst dancing round each other like fading ghosts and all the while they're thinking that they should say something but they just don't know what.

Dean watches Sam as he buries himself in work, he can see that everything is starting to get to his brother, wearing him down. Sam rests his head on his hand, tangling his fingers into his hair. The muscles lining his back flex beneath his shirt as he rolls his neck and stretches trying to work the knots out from beneath his skin.

"She's alive," Sam whispers more to himself than to anyone else but Dean picks up on it due to the fact that he's been studying his brother for the past fifteen minutes and the silence in the room is too deafening to make any sound, no matter how hushed, escape Dean's hearing.

"Who?" Sam turns on his chair, looking over at his brother, he smiles wistfully,

"Uh, one of the kids from the orphanage, she uh, she's still around, living in a home on the outskirts of town, maybe she knows something that could help us shut down the orphanage for good." Sam suggested, Dean nodded,

"Dude, how did we miss that?" The younger Winchester shrugged,

"Uh, I don't know, was hidden away pretty deep, I just don't get it, why is it all hidden like this, every town has their secrets some exploit it, some hide it but this is ridiculous. This is burying your head in the sand and the head of every person that comes into this place."

"Well I guess whatever did go down was real bad, maybe the town was involved maybe they've got something to hide cause they're at fault. Killing a bunch a kids and just leaving them to rot not really something you want on the tourist map."

"Dean..."

"Sammy..." the names sit in the air, there's something raw, deep and primal in the almost conversation that lay's dead before it was even conceived. There's something that so desperately needs to be said but that's taboo and needs to stay concealed. They sit and their eyes lock and all words are lost, it's nothing but for the time being it's enough.

"Let's go," Sam suggests and that's that, they're on the road, music blasting and Dean singing along like they're just a couple of normal kids on a road trip. Sam just watches, the way Dean smiles when Sam tells him to shut up. The younger Winchester is perplexed by his older brother, he can't keep up with him, his emotions run hot and cold and he's not sure if a bear hug or a roundhouse punch is coming for him next.

"Dude, why are you staring at me?" Sam feels like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he pulls his eyes from Dean and stares down at where his hands sit folded neatly in his lap. His voice gets lost in his throat; he shrugs and turns his attention to the trees that blur outside of the window.

"I don't think this is working," Dean watches him from the corner of his eye, he wants to object but he doesn't know what he would be objecting to. He doesn't know if his brother is referring to the case, to the hunting and this life again, to Dean and the relationship that is splintering apart between the silence, the broken trust and the pure refusal to talk. He assumes it's the latter and so stands firmly by his choice to just let the comment slip past.

They steal quick glances at each other when they think they're not going to be caught, Sam's heart burns inside his chest, Dean's freezes over a little more. Sam's ready to pack his bags, walk away and forget it all, Dean's ready to let him because he doesn't know how to keep him close any longer.

"I guess this is it," the building is relatively small, only two stories but the length of the place made it seem more intimidating. Hanging baskets and potted plants were scattered all over the grounds, the place seemed a thousand miles away from the cold desolation of the orphanage. "Go on then Sammy, your good with these sorts of people," he smiled his trademarked smile and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean they're old not diseased!" The elder raised his hand and shot his brother an innocent smile,

"I never suggested they were, jeez Sam what is wrong with you, respect your elders," Sam growled at his brother and knocked his shoulder purposely as he stormed past him. "Bitch,"

"Jerk," he's getting annoyed by the constant change in Dean's temperament, one minute they're as close as ever and the next it's like they don't even know each other. He's starting to wonder if Dean has some sort of schizophrenic personality disorder, he hopes he does because at least then he can understand his brother a little easier.

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They walk over to the reception desk where a young woman is sat busily typing at a computer. She glances up at the two of them and smiles warmly, she's pretty, long dark hair and eyes like chocolate, Dean wonders why he doesn't feel anything at all and Sam wonders why Dean just glances up at him and then turns away.

"Can I help?" she asks with a smile and Sam smiles back,

"Yeah, we're journalists with the local paper; we were hoping to speak with Mrs Emily Monroe." He smiles again and the young woman gives him a slightly confused look,

"Can I ask what it's about?" Sam nodded,

"Sure, we just wanted to write a piece about everything she's done in her life, working as a nurse, the fostering she did, the charity work she still does even now. It's impressive a true testament to human kindness." She smiled; happy enough with the lies Sam had just thrown at her.

"I'll let her know that you're coming down, her room is down the hall on your left, number 8," she explained as she lifted the phone and dialled a number. Sam thanked her and then headed in the direction she had pointed, Dean following close behind. They reached the room, gave each other a silent look nodded and then knocked lightly on the door.

A small elderly woman came opened the door, she was slender and frail, had a look of suffering in her eyes and you could see that she had been a beautiful young woman. She was immaculate, long grey hair pinned back and not a single hair out of place, a white blouse and navy blue skirt, she smiled but it didn't seem genuine like she knew what they were here for. She let them in anyway, if she held any secrets within her mind, then after a hundred years maybe she was ready to tell.

"Take a seat," she smiled and closed the door, locking it which had Dean looking for the next nearest exit and Sam smiling to himself, "would you like anything to eat or drink?" she asked and Sam shook his head as he sat down next to his brother on the couch.

"No thank you Mrs Monroe, we're just here to ask you a few questions. I'm Sam by the way and this is Dean," she smiled and nodded to herself,

"Yes with the local paper was it?" she didn't seem as though she brought it but she smiled none the less, "I've had lots of people from the local paper come visit me in my time, they never bring any notebooks and it's started to make me wonder." She said as she sat down on the arm chair opposite them. Dean just glared at Sam for neglecting to bring a notebook. "I'm old but not yet senile," she muttered softly, smiling, "so what are you really doing here boys?" Sam smiled he glanced at Dean quickly before sitting at the edge of the couch and folding his hands in his lap.

"I assume you've heard of the strange things going on at Rosenkreuz," the younger Winchester stated, she sighed softly nodding, "we wanted to ask you about what happened there all those years ago. We have to put a stop this and we need you to tell us how,"

"I'd love to help but I don't know how," she explained, forlorn smile spreading across her face,

"Yes you do," Dean all but growled, "come on, all this charity work, what are you trying to make up for?" Dean asked, standing and beginning to pace the room, "kids are dying up there, hell I almost died up there! What does she want? Why does she do it?"

"Dean," Sam warned, his brother's voice was rising and that was sure to arouse suspicion,

"No Sam I am tired of this game, everyone here just seems to want let that thing go on killing people, what is wrong with you all?" he asked looking over at Emily, "she's killing kids, kids that never did anything wrong, they don't deserve this, why are you all hiding from it!" He grimaced slightly and placed his hand tenderly over the wound in his side,

"Dean," he got up and was at his brothers side in a second holding him up, "you ok?" his brother nodded, Sam turned his attention then on Emily, she looked sad like a million bad memories were playing through her mind for the first time in years.

"Please, just tell us what you know," she sighed, her hands shook and there seemed to be a battle waging inside of her as she tried to decide whether or not to say anything to the brothers.

"She was my aunt, she was a lovely woman, she couldn't have children, broke her heart I think, so she took in everyone else's. You might not think it but she was a good person," Dean scoffed; Sam elbowed him in a gesture that obviously meant to shut up. "She took me in when my mother fell ill and my father went off to war, after a year my father was killed in the line of duty and we moved up here, Eva took over the running of the orphanage and eventually her husband was called out to war, it was that time when men went away and never came back. I think a little piece of her died that day, she was never the same afterwards."

"What happened to your mother?" Sam asked, she smiled but it was filled with sadness,

"She was very ill; she went into an asylum and stayed in there until she died three years after my father,"

"What was wrong with her?" Dean asked, she shrugged,

"I'm not sure; I was too young to be able to remember,"

"So what happened to Eva? How did she go from being so loving and caring to killing all the kids that she cared for?" Dean asked, she sighed,

"I was adopted a year before what happened, one of the only children that ever were, out of all the children they wanted me, the only family she had left. She was ill herself, becoming paranoid, easily confused, forgetful, she couldn't handle the children, couldn't remember their names. Her husband was dead but they never found his body, the staff called doctors who suggested she see a specialist, she told them she was fine accused the staff of trying to take the orphanage from her. She fired them all,"

"What about the bars on the windows?" Sam asked, she looked sadly up at the young Winchester,

"They were put up after I left, from what I heard I think she was trying to keep people away; she thought they were going to take the children away from her. She had taken me away from my mother because of her illness but didn't recognise that it was attacking her as well. She didn't want the children to be taken away from her, they were all she had, the nearest thing to family." She stopped rubbed at her eye absentmindedly, "she wanted everyone to go away and leave them alone, I don't know what happened on that actual night, I'm sorry."

"That's ok, do you know why the towns people didn't intervene, why they covered it up?" the younger Winchester asked,

"They never really did anything, to help her or to stop her from what she did; they just left her to do it and then covered up afterwards. Ever since then it was like a black spot in the history of the town, no one spoke about it, no one was told about it records were burned and eventually it just was forgotten about."

"What did they do with the bodies of the children and Eva?" Dean asked the question that had been burning in his mind since he had first started this case.

"As far as I know they're all buried in the grounds of the orphanage, now I'm sorry but I'm quite tired would you mind leaving now?" She all but whispered with a smile,

"Oh yeah sure," Sam said standing his brother following his lead, they got to the door just as the lights began to flicker on and off, they stopped, looked at each other and Emily who stood behind them.

"Now now, good girls don't talk to strangers," they turned to see Eva stood by the window; she flashed between the images of the woman she was when she had been alive to the body that was decomposing beneath the ground. She walked over to Emily snaked her arms around her. "Isn't it time you came home," she whispered, the old woman collapsed and she chuckled walking over to the Winchesters. "You, you've been a very bad boy," she said walking over to Sam, she gripped him round the throat and lifted him, pinning him to the wall.

"Sammy," Dean yelled running over to him, she glanced down at the wound in Dean's abdomen and he keeled over. She pushed harder on Sam's throat, smirking to herself, the decomposed hand gripped tightly and the smell of her was in the air that Sam desperately gasped down; it made him want to be sick. "Sam," Dean groaned, lifting himself up from the floor as Eva punched Sam, digging her nails into his neck. She turned her attention to Dean, glancing at the wound once again and despite the pain he kept going.

"How interesting," she muttered, she lashed out at Sam once again, hitting him hard and then dropping him to the floor before she disappeared once again. Dean ran to Sam, helping him to sit up he grabbed hold of his face.

"Sammy, you ok?" he asked checking his brother over for any obvious wounds,

"Yeah, yeah go check on Emily," he nodded and crawled over to the elder woman, checking her pulse, it was steady and strong but to be on the safe side he called for a nurse. They exited as the doctor and nurses entered, slipping out like phantoms.

"You alright?" Sam asked as they slumped into the seats of the Impala, Dean nodded his younger brother just rolled his eyes, "let me check Dean," he didn't wait for a response just grabbed Dean leaned over and lifted his shirt. Dean merely tried to shoo him away but failed miserably, "quit it," Sam all but growled and Dean had to laugh, "what?" he glanced up at his brother who was all but in hysterics. "What, Dean what's so funny?"

"You," he said as the laughter began to subside, Sam just rolled his eyes and finished checking the stitches which seemed fine. He tapped the wound for good measure and to get back at Dean for laughing at him, the elder groaned a little and shot Sam a look that could kill. They stared at each other for a while, closer than they had been in a long time, Dean grabbed hold of Sam, hand on the back of his baby brothers neck, he pulled him into him, hugging him. Sam gave a suspicious look from where he was buried in his brother's chest.

"Dean, you sure you're alright," Dean rested his head lightly atop of Sam's, he smiled a little,

"Yeah Sammy," and for the first time in a long time he felt like he was starting to mean it, "think it's time we finished up here and headed on out?"

"I think it's long overdue," Sam said as Dean let go of the grip he had on him, a few seconds later the Impala roared to life and they were back on the road to the orphanage.

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Ok there's the next chapter, I hope that it was ok and that you like it, thanks to everyone who has been so patient with this fic, the big finale is coming soon O_O so keep an eye out, reviews bring much joy. Thank you for reading,