A/N: I wrote this story so long ago, I almost forgot it was half posted over here too. Sorry it's so choppy but as I already stated, it was the second story I ever wrote. Sorry for all the god-awful errors in it too. Someday I'm going to fix the, honestly!

Chapter 9

"Dan, you're gonna get a crash course in the Winchester family business. But first, we have to get them upstairs. Sam, you two are camping out in that bedroom until we get back. I'll salt the windows, but you'll need to salt the door when we leave. Do you think you can fire the shotgun? I got a feeling you're gonna need it."

"Give me the sawed off, I should be able to shoot it. Thank god I'm not a lefty," Sam obviously directed the last part of that comment to Dan, along with the dirty look that went with it.

"Can you walk up stairs Sam, or do you need me to carry you?"

Flipping his brother the bird was probably answer enough, but Sam vocalized his annoyance anyway. "No Dean, I think I can walk."

"Then why aren't you doing it yet? Let's go. We don't have all day. Dan, take her upstairs with Sam."

"SHE is quite capable of walking on her own. I'm not an invalid. I'm sick of people trying to take care of me. It's what got me into this mess in the first place, isn't it?"

"No, you got yourself into this, that bitch just took advantage of it. You opened the door, she just stepped right in. And your stubborn attitude almost got you killed. How the hell do I put up with you two anyway?" Sam's tone expressed only the slightest hint of the anger he was feeling.

Dean just smiled at him, "Because you have to. Besides, who else would be there to drive you crazy?"

"With you driving, it's gonna be a real short trip."

"Today ladies," Lou stated as she struggled to get up. The determination she had was enough to move her up and out of the room.

Sam followed rather slowly with Dean right behind him. They all headed up, Sam and Lou to the upstairs, Dean off to the kitchen, Dan just looking lost, and not knowing where to go. He decided he better follow Lou and Sam, help get Sam situated. It was his fault, after all, that Sam was in the condition he was in right now. He just couldn't help but wonder what was in store for him for the rest of the evening.

The climb up the stairs was slow, Dean finding what he'd been looking for and making it to the staircase with them only half way up. Dean wasn't moving quite so fast either. He was bordering on exhausted, his stomach was starting to cramp again, and he was sweating way too much. He was also getting angry with himself, knowing he didn't have time to be sick anymore. Not with Sam being of little, or no help to him.

"Can we move it a little faster please? I'd like to get this done and be home in time for dinner."

"Dinner? Who the hell do you think is cooking you dinner? You better bring a wife home with you, or you ain't getting it," Lou snapped back.

"If she's anything like you, kill me now."

"If she's anything like me, she probably will."

The bedroom was a welcome sight, Lou dropping onto the bed the second she'd gotten close enough to it. Sam crossed to the other side, sitting next to her, trying to get her comfortable and cover her with the blankets that had been strewn everywhere.

Slapping Sam's hand, she ordered him, "Stop fussing. You're not my mother, and I'm not playing victim anymore. Dean, hand over that gun, and get moving. The sooner this is over, the better."

Dean tossed their sawed off shotgun and a box of rounds on the bed, not really sure if the semi-crazed woman in front of him should have a weapon. Not that she didn't know how to use it, but she might use it unnecessarily. He didn't have to worry about it though, because even though Sam was half immobilized, he was still faster than her. He had the gun in his hand before she even had a chance to reach for it. He awkwardly loaded it, and laid it across his lap.

"I'll hold on to this, thank-you. You don't need to be shooting up your house, or me, accidentally. You'll probably be back asleep before Dean's even out the door anyway. Wouldn't do any good in the hands of an unconscious person, would it."

"Yeah, and I can tell you, being shot up by rock salt is not my idea of a good time. Think I'd rather have another bout of that food poisoning, or maybe a root canal."

"Dean! Do we really need to rehash that right now?"

The look conveyed displaying nothing but innocence, Dean stated matter-of-factly, "What? Just stating the facts, little brother. Rock salt burns, like hell fire. That's all."

Dean wasted no time placing lines of salt across all three windows in the bedroom. He also lined the bathroom doorway, and laid a ring around the bed. Scanning the room, he couldn't see anywhere else that was vulnerable, and handed Sam the box of salt. Sam's mood was so foul, he wanted to take that little girl's umbrella off the box of salt, and beat her over the head with it. But he just sat it down next to him, and waited for Dean to leave.

"Why are you laying salt everywhere?" Dan was obviously clueless.

"It keeps demons and ghosts away. They can't cross an unbroken line of salt." Dean answered, not really in the mood for stupid questions.

"Why?"

"Who the hell cares why? We gotta get going. The longer we screw around here, the longer that evil piece of shit lives in this world and fucks with my family. The sooner we take it down, the better."

"You were the one giving me the Winchester crash course. Just asking, that's all. Guess that means your name isn't Kilmister, right?"

"Ask later. Right now, we go. Sam, you got it under control here?"

Sam had been right; Lou would be asleep before Dean left, because right now, she already was. Shaking his head at his brother, Sam showed off his shotgun, box of salt, and half-dead sister next to him.

"Yeah Dean, I got it totally under control here. Go kick some life-sucking ass, will ya. And bring back a pizza while you're at it."

"Bite me, Sam. Keep her safe. Salt that door, we'll be back."

Without another word, Dean left, with Dan right behind. Sam rose up from the bed, closed the door, and laid a heavy line of salt in front of it. He could only pray that he'd laid enough.

Down in the Impala, Dean took his usual place in the driver's seat. He was slightly unnerved by the fact that his shotgun was not the familiar face of his brother, but the doctor that had way too much intimate knowledge of Dean's sensitive body parts. He knew he'd have to get over that really quick, if that was at all possible. There was just something unnatural about the whole situation that made Dean cringe. Men weren't meant to be that close, were they?

Dan safely sitting next to him, he started the engine, and gunned it up the driveway. Turning onto the road, he headed in the direction of the cemetery. He was not looking forward to the task at hand. Salt and burns were one thing, but actually cutting out the heart of a corpse and burning it first was another. He figured he could always make Dan do it; he was a doctor after all.

"Dan, I need to explain to you what we need to do. First things first, we need to dig that body up. I know how crazy that sounds to you, but believe me, Sam and I have done it more times then you've seen the common cold. Then, we need to cut the heart out. I'm sure that sounds crazy too, but it's the only way to separate the spirit from the body. Once we burn the heart, we need to burn the rest of the body. That will pretty much guarantee that the spirit has nowhere else to go. Legend says that once that's done, any unused energy she's sucked from her victim will be returned. Hopefully, that will be enough. I can't believe that Lou's held out as long as she has."

"It must be in her genes. We couldn't believe you lived, and yet, here you are, walking and talking. I've known her for a couple of years now, why didn't she ever tell me she had two brothers? Especially when you were so close to death the last time you were here. What's the big secret?"

"It's way too long of a story to explain right now. If she wants to tell you, maybe she will. I bet she's gonna be pretty pissed at you for trying to kill Sam. Believe me, when she's pissed at you, she won't get over it anytime soon. You're just gonna have to ride that storm out on your own."

"Thanks. And I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt Sam. I don't know what came over me, and I can't believe what I did. She is just so frustrating sometimes."

"Tell me about it. At least Sam and I can take off anytime. You're stuck with her."

"I like being stuck with her. Wish she felt the same way."

"She probably does, she just won't tell you. She has had a lot of really shitty things happen to her in her life, and shutting people out is just the Winchester way. You gotta be persistent, break her down. She'll wake up someday."

"I doubt it. I'll try though, assuming I have your permission."

"Dude, you helped save my life twice. You're like gold to me. Sammy, he's another story. You played Barry Bonds on him, I don't know if he'll be so forgiving. You can try though. It couldn't hurt."

Pulling up to the cemetery front gates ended any more conversation they may have had. Dean got out, popped open the trunk, and pulled out two shovels. He also grabbed another shotgun, rock salt rounds, a pretty big can of salt, and the biggest, sharpest knife he had. Dan stared in awe at the contents of Dean's trunk.

"You know, if anyone else saw your trunk, they'd swear you were some sadomasochistic serial killer on the prowl."

"Good thing you know better, isn't it?"

Dean stuffed all the items he'd already selected into a bag, closed the trunk, and proceeded to jump the small fence that surrounded the cemetery. Dan was right behind, not wanting to piss off a second, or third, Winchester in one night. Dean located the gravesite easily, and pulling out a shovel for him and one for Dan, they both started digging.

Dean's digging went slowly, as the pain he was in increased with just about every movement. Dan continued digging at a steady pace, not wanting to waste any time. Dean's condition didn't go unnoticed by Dan either.

"You're not feeling very well, are you?"

"I'm fine. Let's just keep digging."

"You're not fine. It's only been a few days, and you were pretty sick. I can see you are still in pain, and I know you still have a low grade fever. I am a doctor, you know."

"Yeah, well, we have more important things to worry about right now, don't we? I'll feel a lot better when we get this done. Then I'll drop and sleep for a couple days, ok Doc."

"Fine by me, I don't think I really want the whole Winchester clan pissed at me right now, anyway."

"Good, then just dig."

The bedroom was quiet, the only sound coming from Lou's breathing. Sam sat up in the bed, shotgun in his lap, listening and waiting. They'd done a minimal amount of research, and he wasn't even sure if salt lines were of any protection against what they were up against. He'd tried searching more information, but came up with nothing. He was also in enough pain to want to sit in one place, and just stare into space for the rest of the night.

Lou's stirring broke him from his slightly self pitying thoughts. "Sam, I need to get up."

"No you don't. You need to stay right here."

"No Sam, you don't understand. I NEED to get up."

"OH, right. Do you need help?"

"Not since I was two, thanks. Just help me up, I can do the rest."

Sam got up, and crossed to the other side of the bed, grabbing Lou by the hand and pulling her upright enough for her to stand. She walked towards the bathroom, slowly and unsteadily. Once inside, she closed the door behind her. Sam yelled at her the instant the door shut.

"DO NOT LOCK THAT DOOR!"

"Yes mother," came back from the other room, through the closed door.

She was in there for what seemed like an eternity. Sam couldn't help but feel that something was seriously wrong. He crossed the room to the bathroom door, and gently knocked on it. Nothing. His only response was silence. He pounded on the door with a little more force. Still, silence. Grabbing hold of the knob, he turned it and forced the door open. The look of shock on his face said it all.

In sight in front of him was one of his worst nightmares. Lou was on the floor, curled up in a small ball, shaking uncontrollably. Alex standing over her, still drinking in what she'd just sucked out of the abused woman laying next to her. Sam raised the shotgun, pointed it directly at her, and seethed through his teeth.

"How the hell did you get in there?"

"Well Sam, your brother's smart, salting the doorway, but he seems to have forgotten the bathroom window. Makes it pretty easy to get in when he's so neglectful. All I had to do was wait. I figured one of you would need to heed the call of nature sometime. Now, you know, if you want to save her, you are going to have to come in here at and get her. I don't think she can make it out there on her own."

Sam didn't hesitate, he just fired. The round of salt hit Alex square in the chest, sending her reeling backwards. But it wasn't enough, and she was on her feet in a matter of seconds, heading straight for Lou. Placing her hand over Lou's chest, she laid down her threat.

"You either come here and save her, or I'll kill her right now. The choice is yours."

And Sam knew he had no other choice. Crossing the salt line, he entered the bathroom. Alex was on him the second he came through the door, greedy hands on his chest, sucking as much from him as she could. Sam just dropped to the floor next to Lou, both of them lying in a heap.