Author's note: Sorry for the long wait everyone, I've been bombarded with work lately. I hope this makes up for it though.

Thank you everyone for all the encouraging words, alerts and favourites. I have already started working on Chapter 6, so stay tuned.

Kaze-Chan

Chapter 5

The first thing Dean was aware of was the pain. The second was the excruciating pain. His brain couldn't wrap itself around a third thing before a forceful blow to the side of his head sent him back over the edge into darkness.

****

"DEAN!!!" Sam's voice shook in panic as he frantically scanned the room for any sign of his brother. Stumbling forward, he gripped the side of the now empty chair for support. He closed his eyes in concentration, his head feeling light and dizzy. He added more pressure to the knife wound while stifling a groan, the blood now covering his hand and staining his shirt.

John stood in place, his mind raging in colours but unable to form any words. He was angry with himself, but inexplicably, also at his sons. He watched his youngest for a moment more, before he too scanned the room. He quickly noticed the front door was opened, the cold air blowing dead lives inside the hall. He distinctly remembered closing it behind them when he and Dean came in. Knowing there was a strong possibility Sam had left it open, he slowly made his was onto the front porch, his trained eye quickly scanning the surrounding; he had done enough rookie mistakes today to last him the year. If there was even the slight possibility this could lead to Dean, he was going to check it out.

A few feet from the front steps, leading off the path, John noticed a trail through the underbrush; as if someone had been dragged. "Sam!" John called over his shoulder, keeping his gaze up ahead. Despite his injury, Sam was at his side in seconds; staring in the same direction.

Without so much as a sound, the two remaining Winchester's left the path to follow the trail; their mutual worry for Dean urging them forward and forcing a silent alliance. John's brow arched in annoyance as Sam stumbled on a tree root behind him. A simple hunt had gone wrong because he hadn't notice his eldest was hurt, and now he was letting his injured youngest tag along. But Dean should have known better than to come injured.

His temple pulsed in frustration; he had taught his boys to be better hunters than this. He also figured, however, that Dean had only come so as not to raise his father's suspicions and bring unwanted attention to his injury. He had always drilled them to suck it up when they were hurt; the boys were just doing what they had been taught. He let out a low growl, he definitely didn't deserve to be called a father, he concluded bitterly.

Sam leaned against a tree and took in a deep breath. As the walk got longer he noticed he was stumbling more; he was also slightly concerned by the continuous flow of blood. However, he wouldn't have accepted staying behind and finding Dean was at the top of his priority list. His heart lurched in his chest as he remembered Dean's painful cry; he knew his brother wasn't invincible but pain was something his older sibling had always hid from him. To have it out in the open just didn't seem normal.

He was grateful for the silence, knowing his father would probably blame him. Truth be told, this was as much his fault, he felt, since he had let his brother come on this stupid hunt in the first place. He also didn't fail to notice how much noise he was making as he stumbled behind his father; no doubt eliminating their element of surprise. He was watching his footing when he bumped into his father.

John had come to a small clearing, but that wasn't what made him freeze mid-stride. Opposite them at the other end of the clearing, shrouded in darkness, lay a crumple figure. He instantly recognised the jacket as Dean's. But what frightened him the most was that from this distance, he wasn't moving. John could count on one hand the amount of times he had ever seen his eldest this still; each one of them near the top of his most terrifying moments.

Sam also saw his brother, his body instantly launching him towards him. But his father held him in place, his strong arm stretched out as a barrier. "….Dean.." John didn't have to turn to face his youngest to know just how he felt.

John knew this was a trap and that Dean was the obvious bait; that's why the trail had been so easy to follow. He scanned the surrounding darkness, hearing only the sound of Sam's haggard breathing beside him. From the corner of his eye, however, he saw the slight movement on his left. He had just enough time to push Sam out of the way before the shifter tackled him to the ground, both Johns landing in a heap in the clearing.

The knock sent Sam to the cold ground as well, the force knocking the wind out of him. For a moment, all he could see was the bight moon above as his mind felt numb. Finally it seemed the pain caught up with him, instinctively making him curl up on himself. As he forced his mind to focus, something that took a lot more effort with each passing minute; he vaguely made out the sound of scuffling somewhere to his left. Unable to coordinate any movements, he lay clutching his bleeding side, working to even his breathing; the distinct sound of well aimed blows hitting their mark echoing through the forest.

The shapeshifter's strength was overwhelming but John's anger was greater. He landed hit after hit but the shifter kept bouncing back. Every once in a while, he caught sight of his eldest son strewn across the cold ground, never moving. New anger surged through him. This shifter wasn't living any older than tonight, he would make sure of that.

Sam pushed himself to his unsteady feet, only to stumble back down. He decided to stay kneeling, unsure if he could handle another fall. He watched helplessly as his father and Shifter John exchanged blows; his tired mind transfixed in the fight. It wasn't until minutes later that he realized he had no idea which one was his father. The vague idea of stabbing both of them just to make sure came to mind, but now wasn't the time.

"Sam, do something god damnit." His father barked at him in between punches. While he stared trying to find a distinction between both John's, something caught his eye; a reflection. He strained his eyes trying to find the source. Every once in while he would catch a glimpse of it but never longer than for a second.

Finally, his eyes widened in recognition, before narrowing on his goal. Slowly and laboriously, he made it to his feet, never once losing track of the object. He inched forward, timing a perfect lung towards one of the John Winchester's, pinning him to the ground. "Now dad!" Sam yelled hoping he could hold the shifter long enough. John didn't need to be told twice; reaching down, he pulled the silver blade out from his boot.

Shifter John smiled, blood covering his once white teeth, as he leaned closer to Sam's ear. "You're brother's already dead." He whispered before aiming a kick at Sam's bleeding side. With a cry of pain, Sam tumbled sideways; unconscious before hitting the cold ground.

The shifter was distracted for only a second, but that was more than John needed. The blade reflected in the moonlight before he drove it through the shapeshifter's heart. He knew his sons needed him but he wasn't moving until he was 100% sure it was dead.

Sam stirred, and instantly regretted it as pain sent him gasping for air. "Easy Sam." John knelt down and for the first time examined the knife wound he himself had inflicted. The wound itself was not very large but there was no telling what internal injuries may have been caused. But more pressing than that, was the severe blood loss. "…shit." When John added more pressure, Sam was sent into another coughing fit, this time bringing up blood.

"……dea…n…" Sam rolled to his side to be able to see his brother's form. "….help……de….dean." He didn't know if it was his injuries or the shifter's words that had him feeling numb.

John hated leaving Sam but if he knew one thing for certain about his boys, it was that neither would rest until he knew the other was safe. Jumping to his feet, his crossed the clearing towards his eldest son. His eyes continuously scanned the surrounding woods, his mind unable to relax just yet.

But something wasn't right, something he had only just noticed now at a closer distance. His heart jumped to his throat, preventing him from breathing and leaving a dark hole in his chest.

This wasn't Dean. It was Dean's jacket without a doubt, but this wasn't Dean. Had he and Sam not been in such a panic, they surely would have noticed the alarming absence of the other shapeshifter's body from the living room. He stared dumbfounded at the other shifter's body laying here in the forest, wrapped in Dean's jacket mocking him even in death.

"DEAN!!!" His voice rang through the empty darkness before falling into an unsettling silence. He sank to his knees, unable to keep his weight up. "….Dean…"

***

When Dean's mind finally managed to separate his imagination from reality, he concluded he preferred his imagination. The pain, though still excruciating, had taken a back seat to the bone chilling cold that currently coursed through his body. He tried for several minutes to open his eyes before realizing they were already opened, and the problem was that he was shrouded in darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but he seemed to be unable to focus properly. He easily concluded the slight throbbing at his right temple was to blame for that.

Slowly and with a groan, he brought his hand to his head, feeling the dry blood. He also noticed his jacket was missing. "Th..at's just ….great." He grounded out through clenched teeth, keeping the nausea each movement caused at bay. His fingers slowly stretched out, tracing the cold ground around him; it felt cold and damp, not unlike a basement. Lacking the energy to move, he stayed stretched out on his back, letting the slight shivers course through them. "Stu…pid sh…shifter."