Two weeks earlier…

Sam was always against killing humans when they were possessed. Dean was trying to be, but let's face it, even Dean had moments when he really didn't care as much. This time had been different, though. They'd really had no choice. The man the demon possessed had been destroyed long ago. Past memories of Meg had flooded Sam's mind. The way her body had been crushed but still functioned as long as the demon had a hold of it came back to him as he'd looked at the man before him. As soon as the demon inside of Meg had been released, she'd died.

This poor guy had been the same. Without the demon inside of him, he'd be dead within minutes. This demon, though, was much meaner and harder to get rid of than Meg had ever dreamt of being. It didn't need a binding link to stay inside the human body, even through an attempted exorcism. No, this one was beyond all that. It wasn't as mighty as Satan himself was prophesied to be, but it was pretty damned close.

The fight had been a nasty one. Dean and Sam both were covered in blood – as much their own and each other's as from the body that had housed the demon they'd been fighting. They both had wished for another ending to this particular battle, but in the end, any alternative would have been much too painful for the human occupant of the flesh body.

Dean somehow managed to get to his feet and stumbled over to where Sam lay motionless on the floor. "Sam!" he called as he fell painfully to his knees beside his brother. "Come on, Sam."

A groan from Sam was the only indication he gave that he was still alive, but it was enough for Dean for now. Dean fell back against the wall behind him, stretching his aching and bleeding legs out before him. "Son of a bitch," he uttered breathlessly.

Sam finally stirred, moving his body slowly as he attempted to roll over. He finally gave that up as a lost cause and simply turned his head to rest the other cheek against the cool concrete floor of the empty warehouse in which they found themselves.

"You alive?" he asked Dean even as his eyes scanned his brother's body for any life threatening injuries.

Dean cradled his left arm with his right hand. Yeah, he was pretty sure it was broken. Damn! He hated hospitals! "Barely. You?" he asked in return.

"Less than barely," Sam answered between breaths. He took a deep breath and somehow forced himself to turn over. He moved slowly until he was able to sit up and lean against the same wall Dean was using for support.

"Well," Dean began breathlessly as he glanced over at Sam, "we learned that even fire won't drive the demons out if they don't want out."

Not that that bit of information had been a big discovery, anyway. The two men pretty much already knew that. After all, demons were born of fire. Well, most of them were anyway. At least now they have confirmation.

"You need a doctor," Sam said as he looked over at the wrist Dean seemed to be babying.

"No, I don't!" Dean whined as he attempted finally to stand. He made it to his feet only to fall back to lean against the wall. At least he was still standing, though! "We need to find out who in the hell is sending you those damned emails!"

Sam struggled to stand himself. "We've had this conversations at least a dozen time now, Dean," Sam said, somewhat frustrated at having to repeat himself – again. "The emails are untraceable. So is the source."

"Well, it's starting to piss me off!" Dean nearly shouted. "Every one is a new case – everything we need find it, kick out, and destroy whatever it is. More and more of them are demons. Why? Who's doing this? And why the hell did they have to pick us?"

Sam nodded but didn't speak. They were all familiar questions. His answers would also be just as familiar. "I'll run another trace when we get back to the hotel and get cleaned up. And after you see a doctor."

"Ah, Sam!" Dean groaned, annoyed that Sam wouldn't let it go – even more annoyed that he was right. "Fine. Let's go. But I want answers!"