Chapter 5

Dean was exhausted. Physically and mentally exhausted He'd been walking all day in the scorching hot sun with no food and no water, save for the little he'd just had from the river in front of him. The little rescue mission in said river didn't help matters much either, leaving him soaked, sun burnt, and sore. He needed to sleep, even if just for a little while. If he could just recharge, he'd be able to continue this ridiculous game of life or death. The only problem with that was he had no idea how much time he had left until it was 'game over'. Note still in hand, he leaned against one of the trees on the riverbank, intending on resting his eyes for just a minute. Unfortunately, Lily didn't give him a minute.

"Um, Dean, you feel alright? You look a little, well, I guess, off, you're like, all gray."

Dean looked at the woman like she was speaking some crazy foreign tongue, not really comprehending what she meant. She'd known him all of five minutes, how the hell would she know how he was supposed to look.

"Yeah, well, hell's prison didn't have a lot to choose from in the fashion department. It was this or flesh tone birthday suit."

"No, I didn't mean that, I meant your face, it's like it's losing its color, like your turning, well, gray. I don't know how else to describe it. A minute ago you were all red, now you're just…"

"Gray?"

The minute the word came from his mouth, the note in his hand felt like a hot coal, trying to burn it's way through his flesh. As he watched the letters rearranging themselves, his message had been replaced by something else, something much more ominous.

Measure your time wisely, Dean.

When the color of life ceases to exist in you,

Then life shall cease to exist in you too.

You know not what shade of gray will bring your demise,

Leaving Sam to me as my prize.

"Come on lady, you gotta be f'n kidding me. What am I, some 'Pleasantville' reject? I'm way better looking then Tobey Maguire. Not very original, are you?" Dean screamed into the dark, pretty sure his demonic host was listening to his every word.

Looking at the note again, and knowing he better get his ass moving, he analyzed it a little more carefully this time. "Strong, weak, makes no shadow. Gotta be the wind, but what's with the tower? What the hell is a wind tower? Wait, hey Lily, how long have you been wandering around here?"

"Feels like forever. I must have walked for miles and miles."

"Do you remember seeing a windmill?"

"Yeah, I passed one a while ago. Couldn't tell you where it was, but it was starting to get dark when I passed I, so it can't be very far. Why?"

"Can you take me to it?"

"What for? Do you think it has a phone? Maybe we could call for help, or something. I knew I should have stopped there."

Dean knew there was no phone on earth that could take a call from hell, and was pretty sure this girl was totally clueless as to what was going on. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out if he knew her, or if she was just an innocent pawn in this ridiculous cat and mouse game. He let out a deep sigh, and just looked at her for a minute, actually studying her from head to toe. She had long, red hair, and beautiful green eyes. Her voice had a soft, naïve, almost childlike tone, but also seemed slightly familiar, though Dean was not quite sure where he'd heard it before. Had they been in another place, at another time, he probably would have made a move on her. But this was neither the place nor the time, and Dean didn't know exactly how much of it he had left.

"I wouldn't count too much on that, sweetheart. But we'll be one step closer to getting the hell out of here, I think."

"You think? Do you know something I don't know? Do you know where we are?"

"I got a pretty good idea, and saying we're in the middle of nowhere would be a major understatement. If we have any hope of getting out of here, we need to get to that windmill, and we need to get there now."

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Sam lay on his bed, finding it almost impossible to keep his eyes open. He forced them to continue focusing, not wanting to take his eyes off his brother. And he was dying of thirst. He drank one glass of water after another until his stomach felt like it would burst, and still, he couldn't quench the horribly dry feeling in his throat. His face felt like it was on fire, like he'd fallen asleep, face-up, under the hole in the earth's ozone layer.

Bobby could do nothing but feel helpless. There was nothing he could do for Sam, other then bring him more water when he asked, and help him into the bathroom when nature called, and there was absolutely nothing he could for Dean. He had never felt so useless in his entire life.

As exhausted as he was, Sam was the first to notice the change in Dean. The black and white movie suddenly had some color to it. It was only a slight addition of hue, and only in the figure of his brother. The shades of gray in him had been replaced with the slightest hint of pink and red.

"Bobby, do you see that, or am I hallucinating?"

"No Sam, I see it too, and I'm not sure I like it."

Bobby was pretty sure Sam had just been watching, but not listening to what was going on. It was taking everything he had in him just to stay conscience. But Bobby had heard every word, and had heard the warning. He knew the more vibrant Dean became, the closer to the end he was.

"Where's he going now, Bobby?" Sam asked him, eyes closed now.

"Following his next lead."

"Did he figure it out?" Sam was barely whispering now, sleep almost overtaking him completely.

"Yeah Sam, he figured it out. You should sleep, I'll keep my eye on him for ya."

"No, I need to see everything. I need to know what's going on. It may be the last time I see him alive."

"Have a little faith in your brother, Sam. He may just get himself out of this."

"I hope you're right Bobby, I don't think I can do this without him."

Conversation finally sapping the remainder of strength he had, Sam had fully dozed off. Bobby knew that Sam hadn't heard what was really at stake should Dean fail, but he had heard every word. And he finally knew why Dean was so willing to play this crazy game in the first place.

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Dean wasn't sure if he could walk another step. He'd been walking all day, and now he'd been walking all night, or so it seemed. Lily led the way, and Dean was finding it harder and harder to keep up with her. For someone that had been traveling around this insane world as much as he had today, she sure seemed to have a plethora of energy left in her. They walked in relative silence, Lily asking Dean the occasional question, him grunting a two or three word answer.

"There it is, we're almost there." Lily pointed off into the distance, and if possible, increased her pace. Seeing their destination looming in the distance, Dean, too, found the energy to step it up a bit. It didn't take them long to reach it once they'd finally found it. The steel monstrosity loomed over them like a giant, it's enormous blades standing motionless.

"Ok, I'm here, now what?"

Dean just wanted to sit, fatigue taking its toll. He was positive he couldn't move another step. Why wouldn't she just let him rest, even for a minute?

"Uh, Dean. There's something up there, at the top. I think you're going to have to climb up there to get it."

"Ok, so now I gotta play Spiderman. Tobey double feature. If I ever see that Maguire dork, I'm so kicking his ass."

Standing at the base and looking up, he saw it too. He also saw that it was a very long way up. After a couple of deep breaths, he reached for the bottom, and started his ascent. It was slow and awkward due to the aches and pains he had. One foot at a time he climbed, until he was finally at the top. Reaching out to grab what he hoped would be his last obstacle, he lost his grip on the girder he'd been hugging for balance when the wind started blowing, and the blades started turning. Scrambling for anything to hold onto, his hand found the worst possible spot it could have.

The steel splinter protruding from the metal beam drove itself straight through his hand, and out the other side, impaling itself through his flesh and bone. The shock of sudden pain made his already weak knees buckle, tearing the soft tissue in his hand even more. Blood coursing down his arm, he wrapped his free hand around another steel beam in a death grip. After taking a couple of deep breaths, he pulled his hand free from the sickening metal spike, blood pooling in his palm and dripping to the ground. He hugged the structure tight, trying to regain some composure.

"Sorry Sammy, that one's really gonna smart. Hope it doesn't include a case of tetanus, that would suck ten-fold."

Finally feeling steady enough to let at least one arm free, Dean reached for the envelope one more time, finally grasping it and pulling it free from its resting place. Now, all he had to do was climb down. Stuffing the cursed item into the waist of his pants, he slowly made his way back to the ground below. His hand was bleeding at a steady pace, making what little grip he could muster with it even more tenuous. Finally reaching the bottom, he dropped to his knees, and then fell onto his back into the soft grass.

Lying there, his breath coming in heavy pants, he didn't have the energy to read what was inside. Gathering what little strength he could, he tore it open anyway. Reading aloud,

No legs have I to dance,

No lungs have I to breathe,

No life have I to live or die,

And yet I do all three.

Once you have created me,

Your next clue you shall see.

"This is getting real old, real fast."