Author's Note: I made brownies this afternoon… and burnt them, but that's beside the point. What is the point is that they still taste nice, and there's one for each of you poor readers out there who had to wait two days for another post, yet again. I will eat them in your honour.

Chapter 20: Meeting the Demon

Dean jumped awake with a start, groaning as he straightened his back from where it had been bent over leaning on Sam's bed. Rubbing his eyes, he looked over Sam a few times before he realized nothing had changed for his little brother.

Sighing and leaning back in the chair, he looked out the window, surprised to see it was almost dark. He checked his watch; it was six o'clock. Just an hour before they would meet Morgan and head to the abandoned construction site. Ash and Anya would be back soon, from gathering what they needed for tonight.

What surprised him though was the fact that he had slept for nearly five hours. It felt good, he felt better. Actually refreshed. Well, refreshed enough to take on the demon.

He shifted in the hard chair, wincing as his butt came alive again. And he stared down at Sam.

According to Anya, Sam had known the secret to destroying the demon. He just hadn't had a chance to tell her. Or anyone. Dean hoped he would figure it out when he met the demon himself, in a few hours.

"If only you could give me a clue, Sammy," Dean muttered, hoping for a response. The only one was the continual whoosh that echoed around the room every few seconds. Dean sighed.

"You'd better hold on, bitch," Dean said softly, leaning forward and grabbing Sam's hand in his. It was something he would never do if he thought Sam was going to wake. He just knew Sam would fell it, that hopefully Sam would be comforted by it.

"Keep fighting, Sam. I know you can hear me. Don't let it win."

He squeezed the hand under his, and felt the weight in his gut grow when there was no pressure back. He sighed, and dropped Sam's hand, leaning down on his elbows.

He was nearly falling asleep once more when he heard it. A slightly quicker beep. And then it became quicker again.

Dean's head shot up, vision tunnelling on the screen where Sam's heart rate was shown. It was getting faster. And faster. He felt his own heart begin to race. And then alarms went off.

He got to his feet as people slammed through the door, face going pale, anxiety clenching his stomach, twisting that pit in there until he felt too nauseas to even move. But he didn't have any choice in that.

Somehow he found himself outside Sam's room, the door shutting in his face. Realizing they had just shoved him out he launched himself at the door that was only a few inches away, making it rattle in its hinges. He thudded his fists into it again.

"Let me in!" he screamed, needing to be there, needing to be with Sam. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be. "Sam!"

There was no response; he couldn't even hear anything through the door, couldn't hear what they were doing. He just knew, knew in the pit clawing his way from his stomach to his heart, that he was losing his little brother. Sam was slipping away.

Suddenly horrified, he backed up until his back hit the wall, sliding down it when his legs decided they couldn't hold him up anymore. And he sat there, hoping the meeting tonight wasn't going to be hours too late.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there for, but he knew how long it felt. It felt like seconds, heart-pounding, soul-wrenching seconds before Ellis reappeared, his face drawn, his eyes tired.

Dean jumped to his feet, and he was in front of the doctor before he even realized his back had left the wall.

"Tell me he's alive," Dean all but ordered the doctor. Ellis looked up at him.

"Sam's still alive," he said. Dean was so relieved he didn't hear the 'but' coming. "But he's a lot worse, Dean."

The hunter felt the floor move, and he had to stop himself from swaying. "What happened?"

"The same thing that's been happening all day, the same thing that is confusing me about his condition. He began to feel what his body was going through."

Dean frowned. "I don't get it. Isn't that a good thing?"

Ellis shook his head. "Not when the drugs we've given him don't stop him from feeling it. He shouldn't have been feeling it… but he did. And he couldn't handle it." The doctor sighed. "It's what I don't get it about Sam. It's like he wants to heal… but he can't. Like something else is stopping his system from reacting. And we don't know what."

Dean had a fair idea, but he wasn't about to elaborate. He nodded, dropping his head. "So Sam's… He's okay, right?"

"He's alive," Ellis argued. "Okay… he's not getting any better, Dean. Look, he's been up and down, gradual ups… and fast drops down. He takes one step forward and maybe ten back. I'm sorry, but… I have no clue how to help Sam."

And he sounded incredibly guilty about that. Dean nodded. "Thank you, doctor. I know you've tried… Can you keep an eye on him tonight?"

Ellis nodded slowly. "Aren't you going to be here though?"

Dean shook his head. "I've got something I have to do. But… if it looks like he's about to… if he stops… can you make sure he's not alone if…"

The doctor somehow managed to make sense of Dean's sudden inability to complete a sentence. Ellis nodded, eyes soft and awed. "I'll do that for you. But -."

Dean didn't stick around to hear. Turning on his heels, he walked away from the stunned doctor.

He had a demon to kill.

The construction site was strangely chilling in the night, shadowed and dark. There was no light nearby, just the interior light of the Impala shining through the open door. Dean stood leaning against it, trying to appear nonchalant while waiting for the demon to appear. He had the feeling it was out there, watching them, but he couldn't see it.

Morgan stood beside him, slightly tense, almost as if he knew something no one else did and was preparing for the worst. The cop had been true to his word; there were no other officers about, and he hadn't questioned what Dean had told him, however strange the orders might have seemed.

Anya sat in the car behind them, arms bound loosely behind her back to give the appearance of being a captive. She was back in the clothes she had been rescued in, and had rubbed her face with muck, enough to make it look like she had been in a cell for a few days. Anyone who got close enough would know she hadn't, but they were hoping the demon wouldn't get that close.

Ash was off somewhere in the site. Even Dean wasn't sure where, an idea the kid had had to make sure they couldn't even give away Ash's position subconsciously, with a tilt of the head, or a quick glance. He was Plan B. Him and a rifle. They knew it wouldn't kill the demon, but hopefully it would shock it enough for them to gain the upper hand. But that was a last choice, when all other choices were done and dusted. They didn't want to kill the man it was possessing.

Dean shifted on his feet, becoming impatient. Landly had told him that the demon was usually late, but it was twelve-thirty and it was half an hour late. If it didn't show, Dean had no clue what he was going to do. He wasn't going to let Sam die.

A sudden breeze made him stand up straight, tensing and looking about. Morgan was the first to spot the figure though.

"Over there," the cop muttered, and Dean looked where he had nodded. A man was emerging from the night, walking confidently, open trench coat shifting slightly in the wind. Dean gave an involuntary shiver.

"Inspector Gadget eat your heart out," Morgan whispered as they got a better glimpse of the demon. The coat was long, hiding a slender frame under the balck shirt. It was short, shorter than Dean, the kind of man you would barely notice. As it drew nearer, they could make out its face, illuminated slightly by the car's lights. Blue eyes flicked over them, startlingly intelligent, the only part that drew attention, while short brown hair covered its head. Or the head of the man it was possessing, anyway.

It stopped a few feet away from them, frowning. "Where's Mahone?" it asked immediately. Dean shrugged, while Morgan remained silent like the hunter had told him to.

"I always told him his little play thing would get him killed," Dean explained confidently. Morgan didn't even tense as he talked about Mena, a fact that kept Dean confident. The guy was a good actor, and he had to be in order to fool this demon.

The demon cocked its head. "What do you mean?"

Dean grinned. "She shot him. Bang, in the back of the head. Fool didn't even see it coming."

The demon eyed them suspiciously but walked forward a few steps before pausing again. "And who are you?"

"Name's Nixon. I ran Mahone's bar." And a man named Nixon really did run what had been Mahone's bar. Landly had just been adamant that he had never met the demon.

The demon didn't answer for a moment, still eyeing him. "Strange, how you're not so apparently awed by the man as I thought all you shits were," it said finally. Dean gave a shrug.

"A lot of things come out or disappear when a man dies. Mahone was an idiot. He let his emotions get the better of him," Dean told him. "I'm all business."

The demon actually grinned. "And how did you even find out about me, Nixon?"

Dean snorted. "How do you think? Mahone told me."

Its chin rose slightly. "Told you what, exactly."

"Everything," Dean said, putting as much insinuation behind the word as he could muster. The demon's eyes narrowed. "He didn't exactly keep it a secret. Even his little pet managed to find out about it. A few of his dancers. Like I said, guy was an idiot."

"Apparently so," the demon drawled slowly, coming forward again. It crossed its arms, and Dean could have sworn it absently touched something beneath its shirt. He just avoided frowning. "So, do you have my goods?"

Dean drew a breath between his teeth. "I have your good," he responded, emphasizing the lack of a plural. "Morgan, grab the girl."

The cop turned and ducked into the car. Anya made a show of fighting back while the demon's eyes flashed dangerously and Dean took a step forward.

"Where's Winchester?" the demon questioned aggressively. Dean let his eyes widen slightly, as if frightened.

"Mahone had a little… tantrum, when he wouldn't give up his brother. Slashed his throat from ear to ear."

The demon gave no sign that it knew any different. It's eyes hardened, and a snarl formed on its face. "Mahone wouldn't!" it maintained. Dean shrugged.

"Mahone did," the hunter countered as Morgan finally pulled Anya from the car. "About noon today. He was questioning the little brat and the brat refused to give in. Least, that's what Landly told me."

The demon's eyes narrowed. "Where is Landly?"

Dean grinned. "Mourning," he said. It gave him a frown.

"Landly wasn't that close to his boss," the demon told him. Dean's grin widened.

"No, but the fact that a girl beat him up hit pretty close." He turned to Anya, grabbing her from Morgan. "This little wildcat had some fire in her once she found out her boyfriend was dead."

Anya glared at him, tears welling in her eyes. But she remained silent.

It was the demon who filled the silence, anger radiating from that slim form. "You think I give a fucking rat's ass about the girl?" it demanded, sparks all but flying from its eyes. "I wanted the boy. She's worthless… he's…"

Dean shifted as if were about to take a step back, uneasiness tensing his body. He handed Anya back to Morgan. "I can only give you what Mahone left over," he claimed. "The kid's dead, and unless you can raise him from the grave, you're going to have a hard time selling him. But it wasn't my fault!"

The demon shifted its weight, glaring. "Did Mahone get anything out of him before he decided to kill him?"

"About his brother's whereabouts?" Dean asked. He shook his head. "No. The guy's in the city somewhere, but no one's sure where."

Suddenly he heard the cock of a gun somewhere behind him. Gut plummeting, he turned slowly, finding the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his head. And Morgan was the one holding it, the other tight around Anya's arm. She looked genuinely scared.

"Morgan, what the hell are you doing?" Dean demanded, uncertainty creeping through him. The cop grinned ruthlessly at Dean, but didn't speak to him.

"I got an idea where the kid's brother is," he told the demon. Dean's jaw dropped as the cop turned his head to look at the demon. "I'd like to introduce you to one Dean Winchester."

Um ahhhh…. Has Dean trusted the wrong man? I guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out…