Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Although it saddens me, I do not own Supernatural

Special Thanks: Thank you to everyone who has read up to the point and reviewed. A special HUGE thank you to LeighAnnWallace, my only reviewer for Chapter 5! And now, without further ado, onto the next chapter…

Sam gasped desperately for air, blood dripping down his chin. His whole body was in agony. His lungs burned, desperate for the relief of air and there was a deep ache in his chest.

It had taken Sam all of about ten seconds to realize what had taken him.

"Oh Sam, my love," the creature whispered to Sam and lifted up a pair of eyes with the optic nerves still hanging from them.

"No," Sam gulped, fear tearing him apart.

For a brief instant, the creature looked almost sympathetic and cooed kindly, her voice stronger than they had been any other time she spoke. "I promise Sam, after all this is over with, I'll end it for you. You won't be worth much to me in a couple years anyways."

~SPN~

John could barely express his relief as a small, broken down cabin came into view along the path. John knew without a doubt that was where Sam was. He pulled his pistol out and motioned for Dean to do the same, not that it was really necessary.

Dean was so hyped on adrenaline that he had been carrying his gun for the last fifteen minutes, switching it between hands anxiously. He knew something was wrong, that Sam was probably hurt somehow, and he was frustrated, no – furious that his father was approaching with such caution.

When Sam was in danger, that's when all caution and fear of danger was called off. Sam was the only thing that should be on their minds, not self – preservation, but it was one of John's earliest lessons for Dean: you can't save anyone if you end up dead yourself.

The pair stopped right out front of the door and John nodded for Dean to go first, it wasn't like he would be able to stop him anyways.

Dean burst through the creaky old door and did a quick scan for any threats, his eyes instantly falling on his brother tied to a wooden chair, his eyes closed tightly, with a hideous old woman standing over him with a knife. When Dean rushed into the room with his gun raised, the monster bared its blackened teeth at him and hissed lowly.

"Get away from my brother, you freak!" Dean demanded with his gun aimed at the thing's head.

John was a second behind his son and also aimed his gun at the monster and moved closer to his youngest son without taking his eyes off it.

"Dad, what is this!" Dean yelled, his nerves burning with energy.

"It's a Hag!" Sam shouted his voice weak and pain filled.

"Silver bullet, Dean!" John announced, relieved that they still had the guns from the werewolf hunt, and the two fired off several rounds into the creatures' chest even as it lunged towards Sam with the knife.

The Hag shrieked loud and long before its skin melted off its bones and it crumbled to dust like Julian Glover in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Dean rushed to Sam and held him gently by the shoulders as John cut his hands free from the chair rungs. Instantly, Dean noticed the strings of bloody saliva hanging from Sam's mouth and wiped them away gently, afraid of hurting his brother.

"Sammy, what's the matter?" Dean demanded, panic nearly choking him.

Sam took a breath to answer but ended up doubled over, coughing and spitting up globs of blood onto the dirty wooden floor.

"Sammy! Sam, hey look at me," Dean said softly, holding the boy's face gently but Sam shook his head and looked away. "Sam, open your eyes now," Dean ordered.

Slowly, Sam turned to Dean and opened his eyes, the large hazel eyes Dean had been expecting now replaced with sightless white. Dean gasped and held his brother to his chest in a rare moment of public affection; he could feel Sam's warm tears through his shirt.

John watched his sons, his heart aching for Sam. He was furious at both the Hag and himself. He could understand a monster doing what was in its nature, though that knowledge didn't help him, what he couldn't bear was that he had taken so long to come to his son when he needed him the most.

"Come on, we should leave," John said, trying to hide his emotions from his sons. They needed him to be strong for them and he was not going to disappoint them again. "Get your brother and start to the car. I'll catch up in a couple minutes."

Dean didn't need to be told twice, or even once John figured, and scooped up his brother into his arms, holding him tight to his chest.

When the boys were gone, John stood silently staring at the pile of dust that had been the Hag. He grimaced at it and spat onto the dust before emptying a container of salt and another of lighter fluid before he tossed on a match.

A/N

1) Thanks AlElizabeth for editing

2) For those of you who are confused, never fear! Everything will be explained!