Hey, remember me?

Ugh, I'm so appalled by how long it took me to write and post this. Chalk the delay up to a new job position and other crap that kept stealing away my "Computer Geek" time. Another word of caution...this hasn't been proofed by anyone, so any errors or nonsensical things are purely my fault. So to anyone who's still following this story...Thank you!!

Here's a quick snapshot of the end of the last chapter, just as a reminder. "Last time on Supernatural", and all that jazz.

Following his lead, Sam trailed Dean out of the sunshine and into the inky darkness of the cave. He'd left his walking stick outside and was using the cold cave walls to help keep him on his feet. The fresh smells of the forest were immediately replaced by a wet muskiness as they continued into the dark depths of the cavern. Sam kept his flashlight low to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He felt all of his senses heighten as adrenaline coursed through his system.

An image of Jenna Donovan's sweet cherub face flashed before Sam's eyes, her bright blue eyes shining brightly as she giggled under Sam's oversized police hat. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sent a mental message out into the darkness.

Hang on, Jenna. I'm coming.

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chapter 14

Dean hated the dark. No, wait, that wasn't exactly true. The dark he could handle. After all, he'd spent so much time in the shadows it was a wonder he wasn't as white as, well, a ghost. No, it was the disturbing noises coming from the dark that were beginning to work his last nerve. The odd shufflings, the loud cracks. It was actually surprising he could hear anything at all, considering that his heart was beating loud enough to cause a cave-in.

Dean turned towards the noise he found most troubling; his brother's labored breathing as he half-hopped, half-dragged his way through the cave. They'd only been in the cave a half hour or so, and Dean was having some serious doubts about Sam's ability to continue on.

They'd lucked out so far, the cave floor had remained fairly level and debris free. But Dean had seen enough cave movies to know that at any moment the floor could give way to a deep and treacherous cavern. If Sam was having this much trouble on level ground, how could he possibly navigate down a cave wall?

The answer was; he couldn't. While Sam had obviously been working out more than just his mental muscles at Stanford, there was no way he'd have enough strength to turn into Spidey Sammy. If worse came to worse and the cave turned into the set of Descent…minus the slamming hotties, of course…it would be up to Dean to continue on the hunt alone.

Sam lurched into the cave wall, a low hiss rushing through his teeth as he tried to regain his balance. Wordlessly Dean stepped over and slipped his arm around Sam's waist, gently supporting him while Sam moved away from the wall. After a few wobbles, Sam was steady on his feet…foot, and Dean dropped his arm. Knowing it was futile, Dean nonetheless began a whispered plea that was quickly shut down by the firm shake of Sam's head. Moving away from Dean, Sam continued on, using the wall to help drag himself along.

Dean shook his head. Ridiculous. He had no doubt that Sam would drag himself on his belly if he had to. Dean briefly entertained the notion of knocking his brother out, for his own good, then just as quickly dismissed it. While they'd come to blows before, usually with Dean as the instigator, that just seemed too underhanded. Besides, throwing a punch wasn't exactly the doctor's number one method for nursing cracked ribs. One blow and Dean would probably pass out right next to Sam.

Feeling a bit guilty over his thoughts, Dean started after his brother…and immediately stepped into a shallow divot in the cave floor. Off balance, Dean staggered sideways and fell against the wall. His right arm folded in on itself and was sandwiched between the wall and his side. A cry of pain echoed in the long corridor as the semi dormant pain in his ribs was reawakened with a fury.

Curse words flew uncontrollably from his lips as he sunk down to the floor. He was peripherally aware of Sam's hand on his back coupled with unintelligible words of concern, but he shut them out as he tried to work his way through the pain. His tormented ribs had sucked the energy from every part of his body, and he lacked the strength to even open his eyelids. After a few shallow breaths Dean focused hard and pushed his way out of the darkness.

Sam's hand was on the side of Dean's neck while the younger man murmured soothing words. Dean looked up to see Sam awkwardly hunched down in front of him, a look of concern pulling on his pale features.

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean managed to whisper in a fairly normal voice between waves of pain. He reached up to pull Sam's hand away, but Sam held onto him firmly and gave his neck a gentle squeeze.

Sam put his other hand under Dean's chin and lifted his head. "Uh huh. How's your breathing?"

Embarrassed, Dean tried again to pull away. He pushed at the hand under his chin and gave a firm, "Dude, back off." He pulled himself up a few inches, determined not to spend any more time aping the Hunchback of Notre Dame. "Just give me a minute."

Sam finally let go, looking reluctant to break the connection. He continued to stare anxiously at Dean. Tired and uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Dean shifted the conversation back to where it should be.

"How about…" Dean broke off as his ribs rudely reminded him to lower his voice. He wrapped his arm around his middle and tried again. "How about you? You don't look too good."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean."

Dean shook his head, then began to stiffly maneuver himself off of his knees and onto his butt. Sam's strong hands were there instantly to help the injured man. His legs splayed out before him, Dean let out the breath he'd been holding and opened his right eye. He looked Sam up and down for a second, the closed it again.

"Sit down, Sam." Dean said, removing his right arm from his ribs to pat the ground. "You need a break."

Even with his eyes shut, Dean could sense Sam's penetrating gaze upon him. After a few seconds of quiet, Sam finally spoke.

"Whatever you say, Dean."

Dean could hear the smile in Sam's voice, but he didn't care. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, and a quick peek to his right confirmed his victory. A few choppy motions later, and Sam joined his brother up against the cold cave wall.

The sound of plastic sliding across stone brought Dean's head up, and he looked over to see Sam retrieving the flashlight that Dean had dropped. Sam placed it in Dean's lap, along with his gun. Dean's eyes widened as he picked up the weapon. He'd been lucky it hadn't gone off in the fall; one shot would've certainly alerted anyone, or anything, dwelling in the cave of their presence. Like a young child clinging to his blanket, the feel of the cold steel in his hand was immediately soothing. The gun firmly set in his right hand, Dean leaned his head back and shut his weary eyes.

The disembodied sounds of the cave resumed their unsettling symphony as the cold cave wall worked to numb Dean's aching body. A series of high pitched squeaks sounded in a syncopated rhythm above the percussive cracklings of the cave. A bat, perhaps? Dean looked over at Sam's tight features resting underneath a mop of dark hair. Grinning slyly, he nudged Sam's left leg with his right.

"Ya think there are bats in here, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, seemingly unruffled by the sly remark. "Probably."

Dean's grin slid off his face at Sam's lackadaisical response. He turned his attention back to his ribs, taking a tentative breath to see how far his lungs would be allowed to expand. He winced as a sharp pain lanced through him. Apparently, not too far.

Another series of shrill screeches echoed in the cave, much closer than before. Dean whipped his flashlight over to join Sam's, and their lights swept around the close quarters. While there were no visual signs of Bruce Wayne's creepy winged friends, the thin beams of light revealed a bigger problem.

While the fairly large chamber had been narrowing slightly the further in they went, it seemed that the tapering of the walls was accelerating from this point on. The corridor up ahead looked to be only about five feet across, with the formally high ceiling dropping to about six feet. No problem for the six foot tall Dean, especially given his perpetually hunched-over state. But at six foot five and sporting a bum knee, it certainly spelled trouble for Sam.

Dean aimed the flashlight down at the ground, groaning as he took in the rocks of various sizes that littered the cave floor.

"Looks like the maid took the decade off." Dean said drolly as he dropped his flashlight back onto his lap. His throbbing ribs protested painfully to the nervous thumping of his heart. This was not going to be easy.

Sam shifted slightly and flashed his light at Dean. "I don't suppose I could convince you to stay here?" The concern in his eyes was evident in the shadows cast by the flashlight.

Dean sat up a little straighter to try and give the appearance of being the healthier brother. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Sam lowered the light and nodded. "Yeah, I figured." he sighed.

Dean started to push himself up when a jagged pain literally took his breath away. Gasping, he lowered himself back into a hunched over position. He set the gun down and raised his hand.

"Just give me a second." Dean whispered. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't done further damage to his ribs when he'd pulled Sam up the hill; maybe even pulled a rib out of place. As much as he hated doctors, those pompous overpaid windbags, both his ribs and Sam's knee were going to need tending to when this ordeal was all over. Danny Glover was right; they were too old for this shit.

Sam had turned sideways and had used the wall to haul himself back onto his feet. Dean watched intently as, still gripping the wall with both hands, Sam attempted to put some weight on his right leg. Sam's heel had barely touched the cave floor when his knee buckled, sending Sam sideways into the wall. After regaining his balance the younger man looked down at Dean and extended him a hand.

Dean raised his eyes and smiled humorlessly. "Right." He placed his palms on the ground and prepared for the painful ascent to join Sam. Another shrill cry from their unseen companion taunted him, but it was another sound, a low shuffling, that made him pause.

Dean froze, his senses on full alert.

"What was that?" Dean whispered tensely.

Towering above him, Sam didn't seem to have heard the second noise, and seemed to think Dean was still trying to get a rise out of him. "Dean, this isn't Goonies. Bats aren't going to fly out of some hole and attack us."

Dean picked up his flashlight and gun and slowly trained them from one side of the cave to the other. Finally sensing his brother's seriousness, Sam followed suit. Two beams, one low, one high, moved in opposite directions through the cave.

His back against the wall, Sam continued to scour the area as he whispered down to Dean, "What'd you hear?"

Dean made one more pass, then began to hesitantly inch his flashlight downward. The noise could've been anything…a raccoon, a squirrel, or a rat, provided he'd even heard anything at all. Maybe his frayed nerves were beginning to play tricks on his mind. He was just about to convey his thoughts to Sam when he heard the soft shuffling just off to his right.

Dean twisted towards the noise, aiming the flashlight in front of Sam. His finger twitched on the trigger, eager for some action.

A third noise, the sharp sound of stone hitting stone, sounded further up the corridor. Dean squinted, trying to make out if any of the shapes among the shadows were moving, but even the powerful lights from their flashlights couldn't fully illuminate more than twenty feet down the dark corridor.

Sam took a few hobbling steps forward, his shoulder brushing against the wall as he struggled towards the source of the noises.

Dean clenched his jaw and forced himself to move. Folding his legs to the side, he put the flashlight on the ground and began to get up.

Something brushed against his left leg.

Dean whirled to the left and fired two shots, the bullets leaving the gun before Dean could even see what had he was shooting at. The recoil was severe, but Dean had no time for the pain as he frantically looked for whatever had touched him.

Nothing.

"Dean?"

"Something touched my leg." Dean answered in a normal volume. No need for whispering now. Dean's ears were ringing from the thunderous echo from the gunshots.

Dean risked a quick glance behind him, needing to know exactly where Sam was. The youngest hunter stood about ten feet away, still hovering close to the wall. Assured that Sam had his back, Dean finally got to his feet.

A sharp pain hit his lower leg, followed by the small clattering of a rock hitting the ground.

"What the fu.." Dean whipped his head around just as Sam cried out.

"Son of a… Something hit me!"

Dean nodded absently, his green eyes roaming the dark. "Me, too. Something's messing with us."

Dean had barely finished his statement when Sam fired two rounds down into the lower part of the cave. Dean reached his side in three long strides. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam, facing back the way they'd came while Sam faced forward.

"Looks like we got the right cave." Dean muttered.

Sam gasped, his voice frantic. "Oh God, the kids! What if we---"

Dean shook his head firmly. "We didn't. It's the freakin' bendith. It's gotta be."

An instant later the brothers were assaulted from both sides by a volley of tiny rocks. Their lights played crazily across the cave walls as they tried to shield their faces from the stones. His left arm in front of his face, Dean fired another shot into the darkness. He didn't know if he'd hit anything, but the aerial attack ceased. After checking with Sam, Dean angrily called out into the dark depths of the cave.

"Alright, enough! You wanna dance, then let's dance!"

A high pitched raspy giggle filled the air, sending chills down Dean's back. The laugh had an almost childlike quality, yet there was something undeniably sinister to it.

"Jenna?" Sam called out in a falsely hopeful voice.

The eerie laugh continued as Dean murmured. "That's not Jenna."

The laughter abruptly ceased. A second later, another barrage of tiny pellets flew through the air, one of them slicing Dean's cheek. The attack continued until Sam and Dean fired simultaneous shots in opposite directions.

Dean swiped at the blood that was trickling down his face. "Ok, this is fucking ridiculous!"

"It's not the bendith. It's gotta be the crimbils." Sam said tightly.

Dean cursed their stupidity. They were so focused on finding and killing the bendith that they'd never given the vile little shapeshifters a second thought. Three kids had already been replaced by the bendith's offspring; who knew how many more there were in the supernatural litter.

"Yeah, and the little bastards have got us surrounded." Dean said grimly. "Split up?"

Sam shook his head at the suggestion. "The kids have got to be somewhere up ahead. We should keep moving...shit!"

A shot rang out, the strong smell of gun powder once again filling the air.

"Something just touched my hip!"

Dean was through with this game. Checking his clip, he muttered a string of curse words under his breath.

"All right, I've had it with this hide'n'seek crap." He stuck his flashlight under his armpit and put his gun in the front waistband of his jeans. Reaching into the sack Sam carried on his back, Dean pulled out a grenade. He held the tiny orb in the air and aimed his flashlight down the passageway.

"This is a grenade." Dean called out. "I throw it, it explodes, and a million shards of metal tear into your scaly flash, cutting you into tiny little pieces as slowly bleed to death. Now, you either come out now, or I throw it!" Dean swallowed, hoping the little bastards wouldn't call his bluff.

"One!"

"Two!"

A small crack sounded from behind him as the quiet shuffling of footsteps came from his front. Dean panned his flashlight once more, the breath catching in his throat as the light reflected off of a small shiny object which quickly moved out of the light.

"Hey!" Dean growled and whipped out his gun, firing three times. A pain-filled yelp followed by an anguished cry told Dean he'd finally hit his target. He smiled triumphantly.

"Got you, you son of a bitch!" Dean put the grenade back into the bag. After ordering Sam to stay put and keep an eye out for the other crimbil, Dean hesitantly approached the fallen creature. He knelt down next to the prone being and shined his light on it.

Bearing no disguise, the three foot tall being looked very similar to the ones masquerading as Jenna and Stevie. It's red hair was coarse and spiky, a good deal shorter than the long hair the Donovan imposters had. It's black eyes glistened with tears as it fought to catch it's breath. Dean stared unemotionally at the crimbil and watched as it took it's last breath, it's chest stilling as it's life came to an end.

A low keening filled the air, and was quickly joined by several other voices. Dean slowly stood up and backed up against a wall, his wide eyes turning towards his brother. Sam took a step towards the opposite wall and looked back at Dean as the voices rose into an ear piercing howl. The wall behind Dean seemed to vibrate from the power of the anguished howls. Sam raised a hand to his ear as the noise became deafening. Dean was about to do the same when the cries suddenly cut off.

Sam and Dean locked eyes, the former opening his mouth to speak when a low pitched growl cut off whatever he'd been about to say.

Dean swallowed hard as the angry growls seemed to grow closer.

"Oh crap."

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Hope it was worth the wait! As soon as I catch up on reading & reviewing some stories that I'm way behind on, I'm going to get my butt going onto my next chapter (which will be posted as soon as possible!!). Thanks again!!!!