Author's Note: I hope no one's upset, but I'm posting two days in a row! Thanks so much to new21writer, NewbieOnTheBlock, mic19671967, PsychoPicasso, Julefor, guest, emebalia, Eliza Ghost, DearHart, jokergirl94, GoForTehGig, Meggin Lane, healingwater, Hasmik Aharonyan, and Wunjo for their wonderful mean a lot to me.

Chapter Eight: Out of the Fire…

Dean had no time to get out of the way as the creature's sharp nails came at his face. He turned away instinctively and the two longest claws cut into the skin just above his right ear. The hunter screamed and dropped to his knees, bringing his right hand up to grab his head. The move saved his life as the creature took a swipe at where his throat had been just seconds before. Blood poured through his fingers and down his arm and face. Dean's other cuts were also bleeding heavily as he tried to hold himself together. He was certain that the thing's next attack would end him.

"Dean! Hit the floor! Protect yourself!" That was Sam's voice, yelling at him with an urgency just bordering on panic.

Without any hesitation, Dean followed Sam's orders. He threw himself down onto the kitchen tiles, bandaged left hand still clutching his right side and right hand holding the side of his head. He curled in on himself, a groan of pain escaping his lips. Then a loud gunshot rang out. Dean braced himself for the burst of flames he knew was coming. Seconds later, an incredible heat rushed over him. The hunter hoped that his clothes and hair would not catch fire. His whole upper body was in severe agony and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay? Dumb question. Uh, can you hear me?"

"Dude, everyone can hear your big mouth." Dean mumbled.

"You weren't responding, man. You scared me."

"I responded."

"Yeah, just now. I've been called your name, like a million times."

"No way."

"Yeah. You must've blacked out. I was afraid to move you."

Dean tried to straighten himself out and roll over to face his brother, but the pain in his side was too great.

"Well, stop being afraid and give me a hand." Dean growled out between clenched teeth.

He felt his brother's hands on him, gently easing him into a more relaxed position.

"Oh god, Dean. You've lost a lot of blood."

"That might be from the multiple deep gashes, but that's just my best guess." Dean informed him sarcastically.

"I'm just glad you're not comatose. I thought for sure he'd take your soul."

"Freaky dude said he couldn't 'cause I'd already sold it."

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that." Sam looked like he was in deep thought but then, when he glanced down at Dean, he seemed to remember that his brother was bleeding out all over the floor. "Okay, well… I'm going to see if I can find any first aid supplies here. Don't move."

"Yeah, because I was planning on going for a jog."

"Funny."

"I know I am."

Dean watched Sam leave the kitchen. He was hoping that the creature wouldn't be back any time soon. He himself was in no condition to fight and would be killed instantly, leaving his younger brother at the mercy of the soul eating monster. And while Dean's soul was already spoken for, Sam's was still available. But no. Dean wasn't going to let that happen. He'd find some way to kill that thing before it laid one of its long clawed fingers on his baby brother.

"Dean, I found some bandages that should work for now. I can stitch you up when we get back to the motel."

Dean saw Sam walk back into the room. His brother approached him and knelt down on the bloody kitchen floor. Sam's big hand wrapped around Dean's left wrist and lifted the bandaged hand away from the deep cuts over his ribs. Then his shirt was pulled up and ripped away from the wound.

"Oh man, Dean."

Dean forced himself not to cry out as something was pressed against the cuts and held firmly in place. Sam secured the gauze pad with medical tape and pulled the torn shirt back down. Then he struggled to pull off Dean's jacket. This time Dean couldn't stop himself from making small noises of distress.

"Easy Dean. I'm almost done."

Luckily, Dean's shirt sleeves were rolled up enough that the cuts on his left arm were exposed. Sam wrapped those up and then turned his attention to Dean's head.

"Okay, I'm just going to wrap the gauze around your head to hold this in place." He told Dean as he placed a sterile pad gently but firmly against the bleeding gashes. Dean flinched away and Sam held onto him tighter. The younger Winchester began to wrap the gauze and it put yet more pressure on the wound. That was all that Dean could take and he lost his fight with unconsciousness.

…

…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…

…

Sam was both relieved and concerned when Dean passed out. It would save his brother from more pain but he never liked seeing Dean this motionless and quiet. Those were two words that would never be used to describe his big brother. Sam looked down at the already blood soaked bandages. He wondered if this was what Dean would look like when the hellhounds came for him after his time was up. No. He wasn't going to let that happen. He'd get Dean out of that deal one way or another.

Once the older hunter was bandaged up, Sam ran outside and opened the back door to the Impala. He spread a blanket on the backseat and then went back inside the house. Sliding one hand under Dean's neck and the other under his knees, Sam lifted his brother up as though he were a small child. It wasn't easy but it was the safest way to transport him without causing further injury.

After gently laying him onto the seat, Sam got into the driver's seat and started up the car. As he drove back to the motel, he called up Bobby.

"Bobby?"

"Sam. How's yer brother?"

"Not good. It ripped him up pretty bad. I'm taking him back to the motel to finish patching him up. Had I gotten there any later, it would've killed him."

"Killed him? That makes no sense. The Harvester would've wanted his soul."

"Dean says it told him that it couldn't use his soul because he'd sold it."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "Actually, that makes sense."

"How? It would eat the soul long before Dean's time was up."

"Well, this thing keeps its victims alive so that the reapers don't come for the soul. While the Harvester of Souls is a definite threat to humans, it seems to avoid confrontation with other supernatural creatures. If it doesn't want to go up against a reaper, it certainly doesn't want to have to deal with a pissed off demon. And you can be sure the demons would have somethin' to say about a creature consuming souls that belong to them."

"Yeah, that does make sense." Sam agreed.

"Well, yer brother's soul may be off the menu, but that might just make you a target."

"I don't think it had time to notice me too well before I shot it."

"It's probably already seen ya through its jack o'lanterns, ya idjit!"

"Oh, I hadn't thought about that."

"No kidding?"

"Don't worry, Bobby. I left all of the jack o'lanterns behind at the victim's house."

"Good, but keep yer eye out still. The Harvester needs another soul and he's only got a couple more days."

"I understand."

"Call if ya need anything."

"I will." Sam hung up the phone.

When he pulled up in front of their motel room, Sam got out and opened the door. Then he carefully extracted his older brother from the backseat and carried him in. After laying him on the bed, Sam examined the injured man. He was concerned that Dean had not yet woken up. But besides the deep cuts on his arm, side, and face, the hunter was also obviously weakened from blood loss. It had been a while since either brother had had to donate blood to the other, but today looked like it would be one of those occasions. But first he'd have to sew up the deepest wounds so that Dean wouldn't lose the blood that Sam was going to give him.

The younger Winchester started with the four long gashes on his brother's side. All of them would need to be stitched up. He had almost finished the first one when Dean began to stir.

"Don't move, Dean. You'll do more damage."

Dean replied with a groan and settled for a moment. Sam returned to his work and Dean began to thrash around as the needle pierced his skin. He took a weak swing at Sam which missed by a mile. The taller man realized that Dean was unaware of his surroundings. A quick check of his temperature showed a fever. One or more of the wounds must've gotten infected. That was always an issue when dealing with creatures like that. Sam forced some anti-biotics and heavy duty painkillers down Dean's throat. The pain relief medications also worked as a sedative so, within moments, Dean was out again.

Sam finished sewing up the wounds making sure to thoroughly clean them. Next he turned his attention to Dean's arm. Once the bandages were off, it was clear that that was where the infection was. The cuts were surrounded by puffy red skin and angry red lines ran from there and up his arm. Sam took extra long disinfecting them, glad Dean wasn't awake to feel any of it. Only two of the claws had broken the skin, but both were deep enough to need stitches. Finally, Sam took the gauze off of his brother's head to examine those cuts. One of the two was barely a scratch, but the other was very deep. Sam repeated his cleaning and sewing process. He was glad that Dean kept his hair so short as it made the work easier.

Once he was finished, Sam rummaged through the first aid kit to find the tubing and needles they had stolen from a hospital in case they ever needed to transfer blood from one of them to the other. It wasn't something they'd done often, but Sam got them hooked up like he was a professional. Then he sat down next to his brother and opened the valves to let his blood flow into the tube and into Dean. He controlled the speed of the transfer so as not to drain himself too much or send Dean's system into shock. After a while, Sam began to feel light headed and knew that it was time to stop. He closed off the valves and removed the needle from his brother's arm and covered the puncture mark. Then he did the same to himself.

Completely exhausted, Sam decided to lie down for a bit. He'd clean up the bloody mess after a quick nap. He stood to walk over to the other bed but, as he turned around, something caught his eye and made him freeze. There, on the small table, sat a gruesome looking jack o'lantern. And, as Sam watched, a flame suddenly sprang to life inside of it.

Author's Note Part Two: Yay for more cliffhangers! I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. This time Sam's life may depend on it...