Last chapter...

Dean opened his eyes and glanced over at his brother's sleeping form. At least they had been able to get some sleep in the end. Dean felt as though there was a dark pit in his stomach there had been there ever since he had heard that Anna had died after he had salted and burned the bones. It was starting to make sense though. He sure as hell did not want that thing to still be out there, but his instincts kept telling him the job wasn't finished; and he knew they were right. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he thought that he would take a walk through the woodland later. He was positive that he would not find anything, but just in case.

He picked up his watch lying on the bedside table. Half past seven. They must have slept for quite some time. Sure they had slept for an hour or so, then had breakfast, done some research, had lunch and then had some more sleep. Dean decided that he better get a move on if he wanted to get to the Spire's Ranch by sundown. He got up as quietly as he could, dressed and slipped out of the room, leaving Sam a note saying he had gone out and not to worry.

It felt good to be back in the Impala, even though he spent so much time in it anyway. The car felt almost like home. He drove away from the motel and headed towards the bar, wanting to walk from the bar to the church through the woodland. He thought that it was something obsessive that drove him on, as he knew that what he was doing was probably the dumbest thing he could have done.

Dean parked the Impala a bit closer to the woodland than to the bar, got out and walked round to the trunk. He loaded his shotgun with rock salt, as well as putting some extra in his pockets; just in case. He walked towards the woodland, his feet feeling strangely heavy, but he ignored them and walked on. He almost jumped when his phone rang, then cursed under his breath for his anxiety and pulled the phone out.

"Hey Sam." Dean said as he walked into the woodland. It was strange; in here everything was a lot darker and quieter.

"Where've you gone?" Dean was surprised to hear that Sam's voice was concerned rather than irritant.

"Thought I would take a walk through the woodland and at least hope that the horse was gone for good." Dean said truthfully. He didn't want to lie to his brother when Sam had sounded like that. Dean feet thudded gently on the path which he followed among the dark trees, muffling all other potential sounds.

"You should've woken me." Sam said, again he didn't sound angry, only concerned. "You know what happened to Anna wasn't your fault, right?"

"I was going to say the same thing to you." Dean said surprised at Sam remark.

"Dean, you know that you sometimes make things rather personal." Sam said slowly as though afraid of how Dean would react to his words.

"Meaning?" Dean asked, stopping temporarily, wanting to be sure he caught every word his brother had to say.

"Don't get bossy, alright? I just know that you don't appreciate who have suffered from Helhesten." Sam was right. Dean was not at all pleased with how everything had turned out.

He walked on down the path. He saw a river running ahead of him with an old fashioned bridge across it. It was narrow, made of wood and stretched straight across the river. Nothing on it was made for looks, not even the triangular roof preventing rain from touching the wooden floorboards.

"I thought I was going to be the one having to comfort you." Dean said. He had not been looking forward to it, but he had thought that it had been necessary, which was why he was rather taken aback by Sam's remark. "You are the one that has been a bit beside yourself lately."

"I'm sorry." Sam said quietly. This was not what Dean had wanted. He cursed himself silently for possibly making Sam more upset.

"Dude, don't apologise; just promise me that you will tell me if something's bothering you." Dean thought that at least was reasonable.

"You know I will."

"You're a terrible liar, Sammy." Dean pointed out.

"I suppose I am." Sam chuckled.

Dean had reached the bridge and was just about to take a step onto it, when he thought he heard slow, uneven muffled footsteps behind him. He turned around only to stare at the empty path he had just walked upon.

"Dean? Dean, are you okay?"

Dean didn't answer, but turned around again. He took in a sharp intake of breath and was about to fall back, but regained his balance. He was looking into the dark pits in the horse skull in front of him. It was no more than forty centimetres and Dean could see every detail of its appearance. The head had lost most of its coat and skin, along with the eyes; the greyish-white colour of the skull clearly showing. Even without the eyes, there was no mistaking that the horse was looking directly at him, its head moving slowly from side to side. The body was not much better than its haunting face. The skin was drawn tightly around the horse's skeleton, except in the few places where the skin was hanging from its sides. The black coat was dull and in patches along the body and neck; the mane long, thin and tangled – lifeless. Dean's eyes was drawn for a second to the spot where there was supposed to have been a front leg; the horse only had three legs.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam voice cut through to Dean's mind as he stared into the dark pits in the skull. "What is it?"

"Helhesten." Dean said simply, his voice slightly hoarse.

"What? Did you find a burning hoof print –?" Sam began to ask hurriedly.

"I found it." Dean cut across him.

"What? Are you sure?"

"I'm staring straight into its ugly face, I'm really pretty sure." Dean hissed at him. When Sam remained quiet, Dean decided that he better try and distract Sam slightly from what was happening. "You sure Bobby didn't know of anything that would get rid of this thing?"

"He…he didn't know anything, Dean." Sam said slowly and quietly.

"Then I guess the pony will just have to show me…" Dean said more to himself than to Sam.

"No, Dean, don't do anything stupid. Please, Dean!" Sam distressed voice cut through the line.

"What the hell." Dean said.

He cut Sam off, put the phone in his pocket and made sure he had a firm grip on the shotgun. Helhesten eyed him, still with that head moving limply from side to side. In a matter of seconds Dean had flung himself onto the back of Helhesten's bony back. For a fraction of a second surprise took him that he could even touch it, but it was quickly forgotten. The skull moved around slowly and eyed him from his sitting position on its back. Dean yelled out in anger and kicked its sides hard. Helhesten opened its mouth wide in anger and with a shake of the head had turned sharply on its hind legs. It thundered over the bridge in an unimaginable speed. Dean clutched the patchy mane tightly as the horse moved effortlessly and silently over the ground.

Dean dared a glance to the side and found that everything around them was black. He shuddered and returned his gaze to the front. He hardly had time to think as they glided quickly over the ground, though he was rather surprised that it had not yet made an attempt to throw him.

"Why can't you just go back to hell?" Dean yelled at it as it started to slow down.

Dean looked up and noticed they had arrived at the church. Helhesten's hurried pace turned to a walk and it hobbled towards the open iron church gates. The church windows were completely black and the only light showing the way was the light of the young moon, which only made the beast look more haunting. Reaching the railing the horse screamed in fury and rose onto its hind legs, bringing the lonely front leg down hard on the ground. Dean felt himself being thrown off balance and when the horse made another attempt at jumping at the gates he was flung to the ground. He quickly got to his feet and watched as the horse hobbled from side to side in front of the church gates.

"You can't enter." Dean said with realisation, tightening his grip on the shotgun. "What would happen if you did?" Helhesten suddenly stopped and turned it dark pits round to rest on him. "Is that what to do? To force you across? To force you back to hell where you belong?"

Dean held absolutely still, watching the beast in front of him. Its head cocked suddenly sideways as though to observe him from a different angle. Helhesten suddenly let out a sound in between a snort and a scream and jumps at Dean. He felt its hard skull make contact with his before he had even had time to think about moving. He was sent flying to the ground. He took his hand up to feel the bloody gash above his eye before turning his head to look up at Helhesten. Its nose was mere centimetres from his face. Dean quickly grabbed his shotgun and sprang to his feet, positioning himself so that the horse was between him and the church gates.

The horse was standing still again except for its head that had resumed its movement from side to side as it eyed him. Dean slowly lifted up the shotgun and pulled the trigger. Helhesten screamed as the rock salt made contact to its skull, sending it scrambling backwards. Dean shot another load of rock salt at it, shaking slightly as he walked towards it. Helhesten stopped its backwards movement and stared at him again; the church gates between them.

"Straight into the lion's mouth." Dean whispered to it as its coat started falling off, turning to ash before touching the ground.

It tried to jump forward and in its desperation managed to free its skull from the church gates in an incredible speed. In mere seconds it had grasped hold of Dean's left arm with its teeth, while its bony hindquarters started turning to ash. Pain seared through Dean's body, but he managed to use his right arm to crash the handle of the shotgun into Helhesten's skull with all of his strength. Helhesten reluctantly released its grasp and fell back through the church gates. Dean stared as Helhesten turned to ash before his eyes with a last haunting scream.

Dean let his body drop head first to the ground. The pain in his arm was unbelievable and his head felt heavy. He tried to lift up his head when he heard running footsteps, but was unable and instead welcomed the darkness that had started to overwhelm him.

"Dean? Dean?" Sam cried out as he skidded onto the ground by the collapsed form of his brother.

He turned his brother around slowly and tried to withhold a gasp when he saw the state his brother was in. He was completely white except for the blood running down his face from a large gash above his eye. Sam's eyes were drawn to his brother's left arm where the jacket and shirt had been burned away, leaving his skin full of harsh black burns. Sam immediately checked for a pulse, fearing the worst and was relieved to find a slow, but steady thudding.

"Dean?" Sam tried again to get life in his unconscious brother. "Come on, Dean."

Sam unsuccessfully tried not to smile when Dean's eyes flickered slowly opened. They darted around in the darkness until they came to rest on Sam's face.

"Hey there, little brother." Dean's voice was quiet and hoarse and he had still not tried to move.

"Hey." Sam said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like some friggin' ghost just tried to bite my arm off." Dean said, clearly trying to sound humorous, but the attempt was unsuccessful considering the state of things.

"You think you can stand up?"

"Sure."

Sam supported Dean as he shakily got to his legs. Sam took off his jacket and wrapped it around Dean's shoulders which only made him more aware that Dean was definitely not okay as he did not even complain. His brother's head turned towards the church, his eyes locked on the church gates before he turned back to Sam. They made their way slowly back through the woodland, Dean having refused to Sam getting the car. To be honest Sam did not really feel like leaving his brother alone at the church; not again.

Reaching the Impala they settled themselves on the front just staring into the night for a few minutes, before having to make their way back to the motel.

"You think it's gone?" Sam asked, looking at his brother.

"Hope so." Dean responded, some of the colour had returned to his face and he looked slightly more alert. "'Cause I've ran out of ideas of how to get rid of it. You know, we should add this to the strangest-ever-hunt list."

"Yeah." Sam chuckled, they definitely should. "Look, Dean, I am really sorry for how I've been acting lately."

"Don't even go there, Sammy." Dean said looking back at Sam. "No chick-flick moments, remember? And besides, you wouldn't be my pain-in-the-ass little brotherif you weren't a pain in the ass sometimes."

"Yeah, I guess not." Sam laughed.

Back at the motel, Dean was rather grateful to sit down in a chair for a while. They had cleaned the gash on his head up and were both relieved that it was not too bad. The pain in his arm had subsided a bit after the painkillers he had taken. Sam walked across the motel room and sat down in a chair opposite Dean.

"You think we should take a look at your arm?" He asked, looking at Dean's burned left arm.

Dean was about to answer when Sam's phone rang. Sam took it out and looked surprised for a moment before answering it.

"Bobby, hi…what?" Sam dropped the phone and looked horrorstruck.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked, immediately sensing his brother's distress.

"Ellen is dead."

And yep, I'm going to be evil and just end the story there.

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Disclaimer: I don't own the show or the characters.