"No!"

Dean woke immediately.

"What?" He snapped on the light. Sam was shaking and deathly pale.

"It's not dead! We have to salt the doors and windows before it gets here!"

"Whoa! Slow down! What are you talking about?"

"Dean, the demon, it's not dead - it's coming here!" Sam was pulling the blanket off and trying to move his legs to get out of the bed.

"Sam no!" Dean was up and pushing at Sam's shoulders to keep him in the bed. Sam struggled feebly against him and Dean was alarmed at how weak he was.

"Sam, you can't walk. I've got this okay, so just tell me what you saw."

"It's on its way here right now Dean - it's going to kill Earl."

"Not gonna happen." Dean headed towards the door, turning briefly to tell Sam to stay in the bed. Then he padded quietly out onto the landing and listened at the top of the stairs. Hearing nothing suspicious, he went to Earl's bedroom door and knocked. Judging by the continued snoring, Earl wasn't waking up any time soon. Dean went in and cautiously approached the bed.

"Earl, wake up!" Still getting no response, he shook Earl's arm. Without warning giant hands wrapped around his neck, crushing his windpipe. Desperately trying to breathe, he grabbed at Earl's huge paws and pulled and tugged but they were like iron around his throat. Earl finally woke up sufficiently to realise it was Dean he was throttling and released his grip. Dean fell against the bed and then to the floor, dragging in air and clutching his side. Earl got out of bed and put the light on. Then he heaved Dean up and onto the edge of the bed.

"Sorry about that, but you really shouldn't creep up on a guy in his room."

"I'm right with you on that Earl, but we've got a problem." Dean's throat was raw and his voice came out in a wheezing rasp.

"What's wrong?" Earl pulled on jeans as he spoke.

"The demon isn't dead and it's on its way here."

"How d'you know?"

"Sam had a vision."

"Couldn't it have been a dream?"

"Believe me, we know the difference. C'mon, we don't have much time." Dean got up off the bed, his side was hurting and he was pretty sure it had opened up again but there was nothing to be done about it now.

"What are we doing?" Earl had shoes and a thick jersey shirt on now.

"We need to line all the doors and windows with salt so it can't get in."

"Salt? What good will salt do?" Earl wasn't entirely sure he was awake.

"Like I said, it'll stop the demon getting inside the house. Where's the gun?"

"In the kitchen. I'll get it." He made to leave but Dean grabbed his arm.

"Wait! It could be in the house already. We have to be careful."

"Okay. I'd better wake Kelly."

"Make it fast and get her to stay with Sam and stop him from trying to get up."

"Sure."

It wasn't long before Kelly was padding along the landing and heading into Sam's room, with a quick glance at Dean as she passed.

Earl started towards the stairs.

"I'll take point."

"No I…"

"Dean, I'm taking point. You're injured."

Dean, still nursing a bruised windpipe, took the unusual step of agreeing. He nodded.

They headed down the stairs - Earl in front - listening for any unusual sounds as they cautiously descended. Seeing nothing untoward, they made their way to the kitchen. Earl went straight to a cupboard and took down a tin box. Taking the lid off, he extracted the gun.

"And salt?"

"Won't grit do?"

"Earl,I know it's freezing but we're not repelling ice here - it's a demon. We need salt."

Earl didn't argue. Instead he got a large bag of salt out of another cupboard and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Dean gestured towards the back door.

"Start there."

Earl poured the salt along the bottom of the door then moved onto the kitchen window. Dean kept watch and listened keenly for the sound of breaking glass. They moved silently to the lounge and Earl salted both the windows, glancing outside as he did so. There was nothing to see through the swirling snow, however.

They were heading towards the study when they heard a sound - something falling to the floor. They backed away from the study door, until they were at the far end of the hallway, next to the staircase. Since Dean had the gun, he motioned for Earl to get behind him. The handle on the door started to turn, making the slightest creaking noise, and then the door opened inwards. After what seemed an eternity, they saw orange glowing eyes and the tall outline of the demon appear. Dean raised the gun and started to squeeze the trigger. Before he could let off a round, Jarveld had spotted him and ducked back into the study and back out through the window. Earl rushed forward, ignoring Dean's warning to stay back. Going to the broken window he started to salt along the edge. Jarveld's arm shot through the window and lashed at his face with his talons. Earl staggered back, dropping the salt. Dean couldn't get a clear shot at Jarveld, who disappeared into the snowstorm. He finished off the line of salt and turned to Earl. Blood was pouring from 4 diagonal slashes across his face. There was blood in his eyes and he couldn't see properly but Dean had no time for niceties, Earl would survive.

"How many more windows on the ground floor Earl?"

"There's the front door, a window to the side of it, and a small window at the end of the hallway."

"Okay, I'll go and salt them. Can you make it upstairs?"

Earl nodded and followed Dean out of the study; Dean headed to the small window and quickly salted it. Earl headed up the stairs and Dean went to the front door, noticing that the snow had banked up half way up the window. He was pretty sure Jarveld would have no trouble ploughing through it to get through the door though. Bending stiffly, he salted the base of the door. Just the window to the side left to do now. But as he straightened up, an arm smashed through the window and hooked around the back of his neck, shoving his face into the door. Talons sank into the side of his neck instantly drawing blood. Acting on instinct Dean brought the gun up and shot straight through Jareld's forearm, taking some satisfaction from the howling screech he heard as the arm released him and he dropped to the floor. He felt a little groggy from the knock to his head and wasn't sure what hurt most, his head, his neck, or the newly re-opened wound at his side.

"Dean!" That snapped him back into focus. It was Sam - who had clearly not stayed put - calling from the top of the stairs.

"Dammit Sam! I told you to stay in bed!" He shouted up at him. Moments later Kelly was beside him and had picked up the gun.

Dean got back to his feet somewhat wearily and finished salting the window, while Kelly kept watch. Snow was blowing in through the broken pane.

"We'll need to board that up, but it'll have to wait til we've salted upstairs."

He wasn't sure if Jarveld would be able to climb up, but it wasn't worth taking the risk. He started slowly climbing the stairs but stopped and half turned when he noticed Kelly wasn't following.

"Aren't you coming up?"

"Dean, it's still out there! What if it tries to come in again?"

"It can't get past the salt."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure Kelly, that's why we need to do the same to the windows upstairs."

She immediately followed him up the stairs. Sam was waiting at the top. He had somehow managed to crawl out of the bed and drag himself along the floor, and now sat, with his legs stretched out in front of him, clinging to the stair post. He was sweating and in horrible pain but he hadn't been able to just lie in the bed knowing Jarveld was down there. He smiled wanly at Dean as he came up the stairs.

"Dude, are you ever going to just do what I tell you?"

"Probably not." Sam started to tilt sideways but Dean caught him before his head hit the floor. He gently laid him down. He would have to stay there till the window salting was done.

Kelly went to see to Earl while Dean salted all the upstairs windows. Looking out through Kelly's bedroom window, directly above the front door, he couldn't see any sign of Jarveld. At least he couldn't get in now though. With three iron bullets in him he surely couldn't last much longer in any case? It was disturbing Dean that the two iron rounds Earl had already pumped into the creature hadn't killed it.

In Earl's room he found Earl sitting on his bed while Kelly cleaned out the deep lacerations on his face. Both the water in the bowl and the cloth were stained red. Earl didn't flinch as Kelly applied antiseptic and then taped gauze pads over the wounds as best she could. She looked up as Dean entered.

"How are you guys doing?"

"Holding up I guess. What about Sam?"

Earl got up, went out onto the landing, followed by Kelly and Dean. He bent down and carefully picked Sam up and carried him to his bed in the spare room. After that he went back to his own room, shutting the door behind him.

"Is he like, made of stone or something?"

"No, he's not. He's been through a lot Dean. He's tough and loyal and I don't know how I would have survived without him." Kelly was on the verge of tears.

"You need to get some sleep Kelly."

"I'm not sure I'll ever sleep again after all this."

"Look, go and lie down. I'll check on Sam and then bring you a drink."

Dean watched her retreating back and then went to see how his annoying and disobedient brother was doing. Sam was asleep, a blanket carefully placed over him, courtesy of Earl.

He made his way downstairs and found the bottle of whiskey and a clean glass. Taking a swift slug from the bottle, he poured some whiskey in the glass and took it up to Kelly's room. The door was slightly ajar and when he entered, the light was off but he could just make out Kelly huddled under a duvet. Clearly not asleep.

"Here, drink this – it might help."

He sat on the side of her bed as she took the glass from and tried a small sip.

"It's no good, I can't drink it." She passed the mostly full glass back to him and their fingers brushed against each other.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"I guess so."

"Well I uh, better go."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah, I do."

He made his way slowly back to Sam's room and lay down, exhausted and in pain, on the camp bed.