I thought this would be the last chapter but it started to get a little long. So Chapter 13, the finale, will be posted very, very soon.

The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, and Sam was within striking distance of the next to last cave when he unexpectedly heard the sound of high-pitched voices nearby. Ducking behind a tree, he waited for the voices to draw closer. Finally, hearing movement to go with the bickering voices, he leaned around the tree to get a look at the individuals. He was surprised to see the blonde twins hurrying past.

A jolt of adrenalin shot through him, and he dropped his head back against the tree. Since the twins were in the area, Sam now knew chances were good that Dean was in the nearby cave. He waited for their voices to fade before quickly moving toward his original destination.

Ten minutes later, the young hunter came upon the cave. Stepping close, Sam listened intently. At first, there was only silence. Then he heard the low rumble of an unfamiliar voice. It was what he heard next though that spurred him into action. It was a choked shout of pain—a shout he recognized as his brother's.

Sam dropped the duffel bag and ripped out the rock salt loaded shotgun. Reaching in the bag again, he pulled out Dean's Colt 1911 and tucked it away at the small of his back. Sam crept forward into the cave. Just a few feet inside the enclosure, he was greeted with a haunting sight. The succubus was straddling Dean. Sam bit back a horrified breath. Not only was she straddling him, she was . . . touching . . . him. Sam blinked and swallowed back the taste of bile.

Stepping forward, cocking the shotgun, and aiming in one move, Sam growled, "Get the hell off my brother!" His voice was cold and quite deadly.

Asilah's upper body snapped around and she screeched in anger at the intruder.

The shotgun boomed and a load of rock salt hit her full in the chest. It wouldn't kill her, of course, but it provided enough of a kick to knock her back and partially off of Dean.

"Dean! Her wings! A succubus can't survive with a broken wing!" came Sam's urgent instruction.

Dean, who was still fuzzily processing the fact that his brother was really there in the cave, was slow to react but managed to sit up and latch on to one of Asilah's wings. Unfortunately, he hadn't the strength to get a good enough grip to actually break it and she easily flung him away. He cursed when the back of his head connected with stone.

Sam pushed forward, pulling the gun from the small of his back. He took careful aim and fired at her, but she was too fast and dived back on top of his brother, her hands closing around his neck.

Unwilling to shoot again and risk hitting his brother, Sam dropped the gun and made a desperate lunge for the demon's back. For once luck was with him and his hands closed around her wing in a punishing hold. The succubus, however, was incredibly strong and nearly succeeded in dislodging him. Hoping to gain a slight advantage, Sam began to chant the Angelic Salutation, which Bobby had told him may weaken a succubus.

Sam felt the demon cringe and falter, and he redoubled his efforts, finally anchoring her wing between his arm and body. With a loud grunt, he twisted the full weight of his body to the left and was satisfied to hear the wing crunch under his assault.

Immediately, she began to wail—the sound becoming louder and louder as she crumpled. She writhed and screamed for several moments and then fell still, her body withering into a twisted, desiccated husk.

"Get it off me," Dean muttered, his voice scratchy and rough.

Sam moved to comply but had to pry the demon's withered fingers from around Dean's throat before he could push the remains aside.

Getting a look at his brother for the first time, Sam cringed.

"Damn, you're a bloody mess."

"Nice to see you too, Sammy," came the mumbled, sarcasm-laced reply.

"C'mon, let's get you outta here." Sam tore away the bonds around Dean's ankles and helped his brother sit up.

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah," Dean's reply was an abrupt grunt. He pushed off the stone and stood, immediately feeling Sam's steadying hand on his shoulder when the cave dipped and swayed.

Dean eyed the duffel bag Sam had dropped just inside the entrance. "Tell me there's a pair of jeans in that bag."

"No—but a saw a couple of nice fig leaves on my way here. I can grab 'em if you want," Sam sent his brother a crooked smile.

His quip earned him a glare. "That is just so not funny, geek boy."

Holding up his hands in a placating manner, Sam said, "Okay, okay—not the time for a joke. I get it. Actually, yeah, I threw a pair of your jeans in there." Sam retrieved the bag and pulled out the desired item of clothing. "They aren't going to feel too good when you get 'em on." He handed them to his brother.

"Can you manage?"

"I got it." Dean stepped into the jeans and pulled them up, studiously ignoring the fact that everything was spinning around him. He zipped them but left the button undone. "Let's go." He hobbled two steps before abruptly stopping.

"What's wrong?"

"Shit." He didn't say anything else for a moment.

"Dean?"

"How far is it to the car?"

"What? I dunno. I was out in the woods all day searching caves. I wasn't keeping track. Why?"

"I don't know if I can walk back."

Sam looked at him, worried. "What—gonna pass out?"

Dean shook his head and instantly regretted it. "My feet."

"Your feet?" Sam stared down at them in puzzlement before it suddenly dawned on him what his brother meant. "Ah, hell. That's right—you were barefoot when the twins dragged you away from the lake." Remembering the rough terrain he himself had crossed, Sam looked at his brother with sympathy and dismay. "Man, I'm sorry. I shoulda thought . . . I mean I shoulda remembered . . . to put your boots in the bag. I can't believe I . . ."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. Seriously—stop beating yourself up."

"But . . ."

"Listen, Barney Fife, this is coming dangerously close to a chick flick moment so just can it."

"Dean, I was just—wait a minute—Barney Fife?" Seeing his brother's half smirk, he continued, "What—because I missed that shot? My aim was good! She was just too fast."

"Uh huh." Dean chuckled despite the fire in his throat.

Sam knew his brother was baiting him, probably to take his mind off his own misery, so he let it go and ran a hand through his overly-long hair.

"I have an idea." Sam abruptly sat down on the cave floor and started removing his boots and socks.

"What're you doing?" Dean eyed him suspiciously.

"You can wear my socks."

"No!"

"Hey—they'll offer at least some protection."

"Dude, that's gross!"

Sam glowered at his older brother and offered him an ultimatum. "It's either this or I make a travois. Your choice."

Dean reluctantly thrust out his hand and muttered, "Hand 'em over."

Sam smiled at the rare triumph. After putting his boots back on, he gathered the guns and stuffed them back in the bag. Offering his free shoulder for his brother to lean on, he said, "C'mon, let's get the hell outta here."

They shuffled forward.

Disregarding the throbbing pain zinging across every inch of his body, Dean grumbled, "Hey, was that my .45 you shoved into that bag?"

(SN) (SN) (SN)