Nope, still aren't mine…

Supernatural

Earlier…

Joshua was sure he was going the right way. It wasn't exactly hard to track his brother's trail. Broken sticks were scattered across the ground, the occasional foot impressions revealing his brother's size eleven boots. But, the longer Josh tracked his brother, the less the signs began to show until there was close to nothing.

Expecting the signs to just vanish completely, that the mere ghost of his brother path would just disappear like a real spirit, he got a surprise when he tripped over something. Joshua fell to the ground, a rock stabbing into his hand. He pushed himself up, the pain in his hand a dull ache, and looked around. His eyes fell on a duffle bag, a very familiar duffle, sitting a few feet away.

Josh scrambled to his feet, walking over to Bobby's bag. The last time he saw the bag Bobby had shoved it into his brother's hands. If the bag was sitting by itself, obviously dropped by Jefferson in a silent form of protest, then Jeff had to be around somewhere.

"JEFF," Josh called walking away from the bag. He began to search behind trees, in bushes, anywhere his brother could be. "JEFFERSON," he screamed, his voice echoing around the woods and sending two blue jays into the air. The air was silent as Josh's echoes quieted, then a muffled voice called, "Joshua!"

"Jeff." Josh began walking toward, what he hoped, was the voice. "Jeff, where are you?"

"Down here," came the muffled reply.

"Where?"

"Here?"

"Where's here…" Josh cut off when he nearly fell into a hole. "Whoa," he said stepping back several inches.

"Down here," Jeff said slowly. Josh glanced into the hole, getting his first glimpse at his brother since they separated. His face was full of dirt, the left cheek baring a long scratch that was dripping blood. Jeff's left arm was pressed tightly to his stomach, almost like he was refraining from moving. Whether the arm was broken or something worse, Josh wasn't sure.

"What the hell happened," Josh asked his voice battling between worry and amusement. Worry for his brother's safety, amusement because he managed to fall in the hole in the first place. Only Jefferson, Josh thought trying to hide a smirk.

"Oh, you know, I always wanted to live underground," Jeff responded sarcastically getting a glare from his brother. He took a deep breath, letting it go in a frustrated huff, and said, "I'm figuring someone used to live out here. They probably dug a well, which is what I fell in, and covered it up. The wooden cover they used must have rotted."

"Did you break anything?" Josh asked still worried about how careful Jeff was with his arm.

"I sprained my ankle," Jeff replied slowly. "Had the air knocked out of me, bruised the crap out of my shoulder."

"So, nothing's broken."

"No, Joshua, nothing's broken."

"Okay," Josh replied grateful for that stroke luck. That was all Joshua needed, to carry his brother-who outweighed him by a good thirty pounds-through the woods. Besides, if either Sam or Dean were hurt Josh would be unable to help if his brother was gravely injured.

Josh glanced around the area, looking for something to pull his brother out of the hole, when he remembered that Bobby had packed a rope in with their supplies. He looked down at his brother and called, "Do you think you can climb out?"

Jeff sighed, sounding a tad overly dramatic in Josh's opinion, and said, "Yeah, Josh, I can totally climb out. I'll just use the slowly falling dirt as hand and foot holes. Maybe I'll fall again, knock myself out, give you yet another reason to ask a stupid question." Every sarcastic word pushed Josh closer and closer toward the idea of just leaving Jeff in the hole. However, instead of sinking to his brother's level, Josh took a deep breath and said, "Listen, smart ass, Bobby packed a rope. I was wondering if you can climb the rope."

There was silence for a few seconds, Josh unable to read Jeff's face, and then his brother said, "I'm sorry. I will try to climb the rope." Apologies from Jefferson were rare, rarer than the Winchesters apologizing to each other, but every single one-all four of them-were always truly sincere. Jeff never toyed around with his apologies.

"I'll get the rope." Josh trekked back to the bag, unzipping the main pocket. He dug through the contents, hitting his knuckle on Bobby's metal first-aid kit. He found the rope at the bottom of the bag, just as a radio crackled nearby and a familiar voice whispered, "Did you find him?"

"Josh, was that Bobby?" Jeff asked from below. Josh returned to the hole, spotting Jeff's radio sitting amongst some weeds next to where he had fallen. He dropped the rope at the base of the hole, scooping the radio off the ground.

"Yeah, what about you?"

"No sign of Johnny's boys, but I keep hearing this yelling. I think I'll check it out."

"Wait for us," Josh said quickly. Bobby responded with a snort and silence. Josh knew for a fact, after years of being acquainted to Robert Stephen Singer II, that even suggesting the older hunter wait for backup was laughable amongst the hunter population. Like John and Caleb used to and-unfortunately-Jefferson still, Bobby would rather go in a situation alone and save everyone then wait for backup and lose even one. It was the downfall of most hunters, one that Josh feared his own brother would meet.

Speaking of his brother, "Are you going to toss the rope down or am I going to have to grow wings and fly out?"

"It'd make you more useful," Josh replied under his breath and he tossed the rope down to his brother. He tied the other end to a tree, made sure it was secure, and said, "Start climbing."

It didn't take long to realize something was definitely wrong. There was barely a tug on the rope when Joshua heard a hiss of pain and Jefferson say, "I can't."

"What?" Josh questioned racing to the edge of the hole.

"My arm isn't holding my weight," Jeff responded glancing at his hurt appendage. Josh sighed in frustration, racking his brain for a plan B. Then it hit him, like metaphoric bricks that rained down on his head, almost like the rain that was slowly beginning to fall. He had to pull his brother up.

"Shit," he whispered letting his head fall onto his chest. It was the one thing he didn't want to have to do. He looked up when Jeff cleared his throat, his brother looking slightly annoyed that he could be so easily forgotten.

Taking in a deep gulp of air, rolling his shoulders until they popped, hopping his muscles weren't about to get pulled, he said, "Tie the rope around yourself."

"What…? Wait, you…? You're going to…? Oh, Lord help me." Josh glared down at his brother, who merely rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He tied the rope around his waist, hissing every time he moved his injured arm. When Jefferson was secured he called, "Start pulling, Superman."

"Start pulling Superman," Josh mocked as he gripped the rope in his hands. Slowly, praying to his shoulders to hold off all complaining until later, the younger Michaels brother began to pull. He stepped backwards with every inch, feeling his brother start to rise.

When Jeff was at least a foot out of the hole, Josh's shoulders were screaming in protest-so much for praying. He ignored the pain, pulling harder on the rope. When his brother was two feet closer to the exit, Josh's feet were starting to slide. The rain really wasn't helping, the rope becoming slippery and the slick mud causing him to nearly slip. The only thing he could do was dig his feet into the earth and hope he didn't fall.

Finally, after nearly falling fifteen times and getting some major rope burn, his brother was free. Josh let the rope go, racing to Jefferson's side. He crouched next to his brother, unknotting the rope from his waist. He let him sit there for a few seconds, mostly so they both could get their breath back, and then said, "We've gotta go find Bobby."

"Let's go then," Jeff responded getting to his feet. The rain was beginning to pick up, drenching both brothers to the bone. Josh ran back to the tree, untying the rope from the base, and rolled it up. He headed back to the bag, smacking his brother's hand when he attempted to pick it up, and stashed it back in the pocket.

"What the hell," Jeff snapped rubbing his hand almost unconsciously.

"You can call Bobby," Josh responded smoothly, letting the fact that his brother wasn't exactly in any shape to carry anything slide, and shoved the radio at Jeff. He picked the bag up himself, slung it over his shoulder, and began to retrace his steps to his friend.

Behind him he could hear Jeff say, "Singer, you there?" no answer. Jefferson tried again, "Singer, answer the damn radio." Still nothing.

"He's not answering," Jeff said storing the radio in his pocket.

"Can you run any faster on that ankle?" Josh asked curiously glancing back at his brother.

"Yeah, why," Jeff responded unconvincingly. He sounded winded, all forty-seven of his years catching up to him in one moment.

"Okay," Josh said skeptically. "Try to keep up." and he sped up, hoping to get to Bobby in time.

SUPERNATURAL

The gun was smoking from the shots; the smell of gun powder filled his nostrils. Bobby watched as the big guy clutched his chest, a gurgling sound escaping his lips, before he fell to the side and didn't move again.

A scream filled the air, one that sent a chill down the older hunter's spine. He looked around, spotting Nina racing to her brother's side. Sam scrambled away from them, stopping by Bobby's feet. The older hunter helped him up, noticing the two handprint sized bruises across his throat.

"Where's your brother?" he asked looking around for Dean.

"Over there," Sam responded gruffly nodding toward a tree. He was massaging his throat, his eyes looking anywhere but at the Hortons. Bobby wanted to cross the three feet separating him from Dean, Sam also, but before either one could move Nina was on her feet and pointing her weapon at the older Winchester.

"Put the gun down, now, Mr. Singer," Nina snapped cocking the hammer back on her gun. Bobby recognized the weapon as Dean's, the many times he had seen the kid shoot it. The older hunter also knew it didn't jam, John had taught his boys that a clean gun would less likely get them killed. It would be ironic, having the one weapon Dean had used to kill countless things quite possibly kill him now.

"Bobby put it down," Sam begged in a whisper, his damaged trachea unable to make any other noise. Slowly, Bobby set his gun on the ground, raising his hands. He glanced at Dean, who was stirring but still far from helping them with anything, and said, "Come on, Nina. You can't kill him."

The girl's eyes, at one time just holding an intimidating coldness, were now full on crazy. She reminded Bobby of a desperately cornered animal. She had only one card to play, a card that could mean the life or death of someone innocent-or as innocent as Dean can be, Bobby couldn't help thinking.

"I don't want to kill him," she snapped and grabbed Dean's arm. With some difficulty, she pulled him to his feet, his unfocused green eyes trying to tell his brain what was going on. Pressing the gun to his back, using him as a shield, she said, "He's my ticket out of here."

"Nina," Sam tried to reason but his throat was just too damaged to even attempt the simple action. Instead he glanced at Bobby, who tried again. "Come on. He did nothing to you."

"All hunters are the same," Nina snapped backing away from the other two hunters. She took Dean with her, the older Winchester nearly tripping over his feet. "They are obsessive, simple minded, reckless, death causing people. My mother was the same as every one of them." She turned her gaze to Sam, who was trying to silently communicate with his woozily, unfocused brother, and said, "Why you came back to this life is beyond me."

"What does that mean," Sam asked looking at her. His hand unconsciously touched the spot where he was nearly strangled, the use of his vocal cords hurting his already tender throat.

"You went to college," Nina responded still backing away. Her grip tightened on Dean's arm, the gun pressing deeper into his spine. "You had freedom. You were free to be yourself."

"Things change," Sam whispered.

"Of course they do."

Bobby tried to use her moment of weakness, while talking to Sam, to grab his gun, but a gunshot rang out and he pulled his hand back. Nina was glaring at him, gun held at her side. The firing of the Colt made Dean's eyes focus a bit more. He looked over at Bobby and Sam, his eyes clearly telling them to let her take him.

Before Sam could give him a responding look, another gunshot rang out. Both Bobby and Sam ducked, trying to avoid the bullet. Three more bullets flew over them, one coming dangerously close to Bobby's ear. When the shots ceased, an eerily quiet rang through the woods. Both hunters got to their feet, glancing around. Sam was the first to speak, "She's gone."

"What?" Bobby looked over to where Nina had stood, finding both Nina and Dean gone. "They can't have gone far," the older hunter commented and started walking toward where they disappeared. Problem was there were three possible paths they could have taken.

"Damn it," Sam said stopping next to the older hunter.

"Come on, Dean's heavier than her and hurt. He'll slow her down," Bobby tried to reassure Sam. Instead of achieving that, Sam began to head down the closest path. Before Bobby could follow he heard someone yell his name. He turned, Josh and Jeff coming around the corner.

"Sam," he called causing the younger Winchester to stop and head back to the older hunter. He was unsteady on his feet as he walked, Bobby finally noticing the blood dripping down a gash on his head.

"Where's Dean," Jeff asked stopping a few inches from Bobby and Sam.

"Somewhere that way," Bobby responded nodding behind him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A hole."

Before Bobby could ask for an explanation he was interrupted by a hoarse voice snapping, "Come on, we're wasting time." Sam tried to walk back down the path he had started trekking, but he barely made it three steps when his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards.

Bobby caught him, setting him down on the ground. The rain washed the blood off his face, watered down red liquid rolling into his hair and onto the ground. Looking up at Josh and Jeff he said, "Stay with him, I'm going to get his brother."

The older hunter started down the path the younger Winchester had intended to take. He heard a set of footsteps behind him. He turned to see Josh quickly catching up to him. "I thought you might need help and this." He handed Bobby the pistol he had been holding, slipping a second in the waistband of his jeans.

"Fine, let's go," the older hunter replied and sped up. He had two prayers running through his head as he headed deeper into the woods. One: that he was heading the right way and two: that Dean was still alive.

SUPERNATURAL

Dean couldn't believe Nina was shooting at Bobby and Sam. She was literally firing his gun, the gun that never jammed, at his brother and friend. Thankfully, none of the bullets hit either of them. Unfortunately, the distraction worked enough to help her drag him away. They took the closest path, Dean nearly tripping over his feet in the process. For a girl who probably weighed fifty pounds less than him, she was strong and fast. No sooner did they take off than Bobby and Sam disappeared from view.

"I still don't see what this proves," Dean said feeling blood and water drip down his face as they walked. He was tripping over his own feet, his leg sick of the abuse it was being put through. His head was throbbing with every footstep, his equilibrium still off after slamming it into the tree. He was also sure his side was bleeding again, the double…no triple…or was it double? Dean couldn't quite remember the amount of times, but the several collisions with the ground had been enough to get his wound to start bleeding again.

"Shut up," Nina responded digging the gun deeper into his spine. Dean could tell Nina just wanted out, just needed an excuse to not get shot. He was her bargaining chip and pretty soon she wouldn't need him. Let's see, Dean thought racking his sluggish brain. The clip was half full when I loaded the gun. She shot at me, shot at Bobby, then shot it four more times at Sam and Bobby. That's six, which means… She still had one bullet to take him out. Fantastic, his thoughts sarcastically tacked on.

"I'm just saying," Dean pressed, the trees swaying back and forth-the wind definitely not the cause. "Taking me doesn't necessarily…" He felt himself slipping, Nina slamming her fist into his leg wound to wake him up. "Ah, what the fuck?"

"Can't have you passing out on me," Nina responded as she pulled him deeper into the woods. The rain was falling harder, small puddles developing in every footprint they left behind. It was only a matter of time before he collapsed for real which meant Nina was running out of time. Maybe she'll let me pick the way I die.

"I'm not going to kill you," Nina said, Dean unaware that he had spoken out loud.

"What?"

"I'm not going to kill you," Nina repeated stopping next to a tree. She set Dean against it and backed away to lean against a stump. Behind the stump, the current strong enough to take a human downstream without a problem, was a river.

"So… cold-hearted Nina…has a conscience," Dean murmured weakly, leaning his head against a tree. The ground beneath him was beginning to move, the trees were swaying worse than before. He could practically hear his consciousness ticking away.

"Funny, Winchester," Nina said with a shake of her head and a smirk. She crossed her arms, Dean's colt pointing at the ground, and looked off to the left down the path they had come; almost like she was waiting for someone to appear.

"You do realize…Bobby's going to…find us." His side was on fire, again, his leg throbbing in time with each heartbeat. He was dizzy from his head wound, loss of blood, and no food. Blood and rain water were slowly dripping down the back of his neck, mixing in with the sweat that had already accumulated over the past few days. He was cold and warm at the same time, shivers ripping through his body, and the rain wasn't exactly helping. Nina can sure pick a hostage, he thought bitterly fighting the nausea that suddenly rolled through him. Silently, he wished he'd just pass out already.

"That's what I want," Nina said catching Dean by surprise. He wasn't quite sure what she was referring to, at first, and then his original comment caught up to him.

Dean glanced over at Nina, surprised when he saw two of them. Both were leaning against the same stump, talking to him. He was pretty sure, around ninety percent sure, that one wasn't real. Problem was he couldn't determine which was real and which was the one his mind was making up. Instead of dwelling on it, his head hurt too much anyway, he concentrated on Nina's words. "You…what?"

"There are three ways this can go down. One: I kill you and get away. Two: I kill you and your friend, Bobby, kills me. Or three: I let your hunter buddy catch up and finish me and let you go.

"Seeing as I choose to not kill you, option three is the only logical choice."

Dean was pretty sure there were several more options she could have taken, but his muddled brain couldn't come up with any. Letting his head loll to the side, getting a better look at Nina, he said, "Why not…kill me? You…had no…problem killing that…Reggie chick."

Nina took a deep breath, blowing her wet hair out of her face, and said, "She was necessary to get a hunter here."

"You did…this…before?" what surprised Dean the most was that it didn't surprise him. Nina probably killed tons of hunters, tons of people, without a second thought. The ground gave another violent jerk, another shiver wrack his body; Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could hold onto consciousness.

"Ethan and I have had a busy few years." Nina's eyes swept across the forest floor, flicking back down the path they had come. Bobby still hadn't appeared like she wanted.

"Why…would you…?"

"The thrill of the hunt, I guess," she replied casually, her right shoulder rising slightly. Dean wished he had a gun in that moment, to end the soulless bitch's life once and for all. However, the next words caught him by surprise and pulled him out of his dark thoughts. "That was until you came along."

"What…makes me…so special?"

"Times up," Nina responded uncrossing her arms. She removed the clip from Dean's colt putting it in her pocket. Tossing the gun at his feet she said, "Thanks for the loan."

"What are…you doing?" his vision was graying, dangerously close to shutting out entirely. His jumbled brain just wouldn't help him put any of the pieces of Nina's puzzling actions together.

Straightening up, glancing one last time down the path, Nina looked down at Dean. She flashed him a look, one he couldn't quite place, and said, "Take care of yourself, Dean." She backed up, skirting the stump, and came to a stop at the edge of the dangerously flowing river. She peeked at the current, a calculating expression on her face. Someone, somewhere close by, was yelling Dean's name. The injured hunter was too tired to really try and figure out who it was.

Footsteps could be heard, another voice calling his name, but Dean was looking at Nina. As fuzzy as she was, he could see the determined look on her face. And that's when it hit him, what she was going to do.

"Wait," he breathed rather having her go to jail than do what she was planning. Only problem, his voice wouldn't work like he wanted. Instead, he watched Nina take a deep breath, yell something that he couldn't quite make out, and fall backwards. The last thing he saw was her body rushing downstream before everything went black.