Dean didn't sleep that night. In fact, he barely closed his eyes to blink. He sat in his chair, concentrating on the shallow breathing that his brother was doing. It had been another close call – too close. And the part that bothered him the most was that Sam basically saved himself. He had gotten away, he fought back the demon, he called his brother, he did foolishly dump himself into a freezing river, but in the end, all Dean did was show up and do the exorcism. Sam hadn't needed him as much as he thought he would.
He would have been able to move past that if his cell phone hadn't started ringing right then. He found Jo on the other end.
"Hey, Dean," she said. "How's Sammy?"
"He's okay," he answered, annoyed that she had the gall to use his bother's dreaded nickname. "He's sleeping."
"Still? But we brought him home almost an hour ago!"
"Are you stupid?" Dean snapped. "He nearly died!"
"Right, sorry. It was kind of cool how he saved himself, though."
"What?" Dean asked, his voice hitching as she vocalised his terrible thoughts.
"Well, it's not like he really needed you around, you know? It took us so long to get there that he had things under control."
Normally, Dean would have sensed that something wasn't quite right here, but he was already low and feeling helpless and this was the straw that would break the camel's back. He flicked his phone closed, effectively ending his conversation with Jo so he could commiserate with himself. And that is exactly what he did.
By the time morning rolled around, Dean's bitterness and depression had practically eaten a hole through him. When Sam's eyes fluttered open and he managed to focus on his brother's zoned-out expression, he could see the hole. And he didn't like it.
"Dean," he said, surprised when his voice came out like a hoarse grunt.
Dean's glassy eyes turned to Sam's and when they met, Sam had to repress a shudder at the hollowness he found there. What had his brother been sitting there thinking about all night? But just as Dean's big-brother instincts had kicked in when Sam was in trouble earlier, Sam's little-brother instincts kicked in now.
"Thanks for coming to get me," he ground out slowly, keeping eye contact.
"Not like you needed me," Dean grumbled after a moment and looked away.
"What?!" Sam snapped. "I don't know if you recall, but I was face first in a puddle of mud. I wasn't breathing and I had a demon inside of me. That isn't exactly something you take care of on your own, Dean."
"Don't try to sugar-coat things for me, Sammy. Even Jo said it when she called last nght."
Sam's brain was finally clear of the cobwebs that had kept him groggy, and with the clearheadedness came a startling realisation. "Dean, when did she call?"
"Last night, I said. She called to see how you were doing."
"What time, Dean? Was it pretty soon after we got back?"
"I guess so," the elder brother answered, shrugging.
Sam sat up in bed, leaning himself against the wall for support. His muscles were still aching, as was the cut on his chest. And he had a massive headache. But something wasn't right, and he was determined to figure it out before it ate his brother. "Did she sound like herself?"
"She sounded wide awake," Dean offered, still so caught up in his own misery that he didn't see where his brother was heading.
"And why do you think she might have been wide awake in the middle of the night after the two of you made a long drive out to the middle of nowhere to search for me?" Sam asked patiently.
"Maybe she's good under pressure."
"She's not, Dean. We've seen her under pressure and it's not that great."
Dean took a deep breath as he seemed to ponder Sam's words for the first time. "What are you saying exactly?" he queried, though Sam could tell he was finally putting things together and had a pretty good idea of what was going on.
"Well, the demon would have needed a new host as quickly as possible so it wasn't banished. It wold have needed someone with whom it had had contact. That could be either you or her. It probably wasn't going to mess with you right away, since you were the one that had just exorcised it. That would leave Jo. And she wouldn't have been expecting it." There was a pause. "Naturally, since you had just evicted the demon, it probably couldn't resist a poke at you. That's why she called. The demon most likely wanted to get back at you and see if I was too weak to defend myself. It hadn't failed before now."
Dean nodded, his brain registering all the things that Sam said. He felt such immense relief at the idea that he wasn't totally useless. "Think she's still at her room?" he asked.
"I hope so," Sam replied. "Because if she's not, I have no idea where to find her."
"Can you move around much?"
"I'm sore, but I'm okay," the younger Winchester insisted. "I promise to not slow you down." He groaned when his muscles protested him pulling himself to a standing position, noticed Dean's raised eyebrows, and added, "Well, not too much, anyway."
Dean grinned and rose. "I'll make us something to eat in the kitchen while you get dressed." With that, he walked out, closing the door softly behind him and feeling a hundred times better than he had earlier that morning.
Sam was just reaching for a shirt when a figure unexpectedly crashed through the glass of his window. He looked up and noticed Jo, her eyes an unnatural glossy black, rolling to her feet with a grace and ease that she normally did not possess.
"Aww, were you getting up for little old me, Sammy?" she asked playfully. "You shouldn't have."
"Dean!" he shouted as she charged him. His reflexes were quick enough to sidestep her attack, but he wasn't expecting her to kick out when she hit the ground. He found his legs being swiped out from under him and then he joined her on the ground. Too quickly, she rolled over and wrapped a hand around his throat. Sam gasped once and then drove his knee into her stomach. The second she released him, he got to his feet and headed for the door. He was in no condition to fight a demon at the moment, and he was sure his brother hadn't heard him yell for help. He ripped open the door and tore down the hall as Jo got to her feet, calmly following him out without a care in the world.
"Big brother can't help you right now, Sammy," she said evilly from he room.
Sam burst into the kitchen, frantically looking for his brother. "Dean?" he called. "Dean!"
Finally, with horror, his eye caught the limp form of his older brother, sprawled on the ground on his stomach with blood seeping out of a gash on the back of his head. The only consolation he found was that he could see Dean's chest rise slightly with a breath and knew he was still alive. But now he was on his own against a demon that really seemed to have a personal vendetta against him.
"It's just you and me now, Sammy," Jo's voice said from right behind him.
"Oh, crap," Sam eloquently announced as he turned around slowly.
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NOTE: Sorry about the long wait. I've decided to write a nice, long, violent chapter next time to try to make up for it. A special thanks to Windyfontaine for most excellent support on all my stories! Your reviews make me want to keep going!