A/N: I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

Dean tended to her wounds paying close attention to her reaction. He had to wait for the water to cool down before pouring it over the gaping wound. The vampire removed the large pieces of rocks and twigs and stopped the bleeding by keeping pressure over the worst area. Dean got a better look at the extent of her injuries noticing her thigh wasn't as bad as where she was struck by the floating branch. Brooklyn woke up and watched as her vampire sterilized the needle in the fire before threading the suture.

"Brook," he whispered.

"Hmmm," she groaned. Dean noticed her forehead glistened in the fire and quickly put his hand to her forehead. Infection was already setting in.

"Damn it," he growled and quickly started going to work. Brooklyn was too far gone in the depths of illness to feel the first stab through her skin. Dean was fast and precise and silently thanked his father for teaching him first aid. John believed in having his sons prepared for anything and possessing the basic knowledge of survival and medical skills. The vampire ran more water over the area then wiped it with the gauze.

"The worst is stitched," he said to himself before starting on her thigh. The gash was smaller and shallower than her side injury and Dean was thankful it didn't hit a major artery as Brooklyn would've surely bled to death. Wasting no more precious seconds, Dean started on her leg and put five modest sized stitches in place. He then rubbed the ointment on her leg then covered and taped it. His attention then went to oozing wound above. Dean had managed to find some antiseptic in the bottom of the kit and carefully scrubbed the area. Brooklyn groaned and stirred as he worked to clean her and Dean went slower.

"I'm sorry Brook, I know it hurts," he poured the remaining water over it then rubbed the ointment in and bandaged it up. Dean knew his options were limited on what to do. He pressed his hand to her forehead and felt the fever burning higher.

"You're burning up," he tried to stay calm but the panic was breaking through. "I'm going to get more water," the vampire didn't want to leave her but she needed water. "I will be back, I promise," he kissed her forehead and felt the heat against his lips.

Maximilian was now two days behind them. He continued to ride hard and rest his mount when needed. As he rode on, the vampire inhaled the surrounding air and picked up the stronger scents.

"Soon human you will be back where you rightfully belong," he said to the wind. His shifted downward to the fresh tracks in the dirt. To untrained eye they would appear to be scratches in the dirt. But to the vampire, they were signs of two individuals on the move.

"Winchester you again try to throw me off but you fail to see I can still hunt you down."

He dismounted and examined the partial prints in the soil. The first print was the larger of the two and the vampire concluded it was Dean's track. The second was smaller which told the vampire it was the human's tracks. With a lone finger, Maximilian traced the outline of each print then looked from beneath the brim of his hat and followed the trail with his eyes.

"They're gonna try to cross the river and head up to Des Moines….that bastard," Maximilian leapt on his horse with ease and dug his heels into the steed's sides. If they made it to Des Moines, he wouldn't be able to capture the human or the vampire. It was the last holdout and had banned any bounty hunters from capturing runaway slaves. The Bayeaux clan ruled over the French municipality and wouldn't hesitate to make an example of any vampire who dared to hunt within the city.

"Damn French," Maximilian snarled as he took off.

Dean returned with more water and quickly set the canteen over the fire. He ground up the meadowsweet and waited for the water to heat up. The vampire could only sit and watch as his human suffered through the ravages of fever and infection. He pushed the sweat laced strands of hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the lips. Without antibiotics readily available, he was out of options and knew what had to be done.

While the crushed meadowsweet brewed in the water, the vampire slit his wrist open and tilted the bleeding wound and watched as the droplets fell into the steaming cup. He told himself it was a way to heal her, that if he didn't do it she would die and Dean wasn't ready to let her go.

"Brook," he maneuvered her upper body onto his lap and gently parted her lips. Brooklyn slowly lifted her eyelids open and revealed a distant look in the rich grey depths. She didn't recognize Dean as he peered down with alarm at her listless expression. The vampire pressed her lip down with the cup and meticulously poured the drink down her throat. Brooklyn could only look up with vacant grey eyes and accept the steamy but tangy offering. The tiny voice in her head said not to worry as he was helping her get better. So she didn't fight but even if she had the strength the human wouldn't for she trusted the vampire with her very life.

John hurried down the back roads away from Saint Louis and back to the West. He didn't know where he was going but only knew he had to find his son before Alaric's brother did. Word traveled fast that Maximilian was out in the hunt and John knew he wouldn't rest until the human was returned to his brother. He immediately got an idea and turned back to the South towards the town of Sterling.

Deacon had arrived home glad to be away from Saint Louis and all of the throngs of vampires. He preferred the silence and solitude of his manor which was situated outside of town. Most of the vampires living in Sterling wanted nothing more than to be left alone by the Council and their Law and carry on in simple living off the land. Here slavery was practiced but humans and vampires coexisted though the humans knew their place in society and didn't need to be reminded of their stations. Their masters protected and took care of them in exchange for labor and blood which the humans would gladly give than be a slave to one of the powerful cruel vampires in larger cities. Deacon had been here for centuries as his father was one of the original Council members until his death. He always held the suspicion Nicholas Saltzman was behind the deed but couldn't prove it. Still the Council granted him a place in the Assembly which gave him a degree of power and influence.

He was seated in den area when the rumbling came over the distance. Deacon looked up and out the window spying the Impala rolling up the narrow drive. He knew it was John and didn't have to ask why he was there.

John stepped out of the car and hurried up the gravel drive towards the front door when it swung open and Deacon appeared on the steps.

"John, did you find him?" John shook his head and nervously carded his large hands through his raven hair.

"No, I lost their trail after the cabin. He left a note in code and I knew what Dean was saying but when I returned to Saint Louis I couldn't pick up his scent or the human's. Deacon, Maximilian is out there."

"They don't stand a chance out there," Deacon motioned for John to follow him inside.

"Maximilian can track a week old scent through a foot of snow in the dead of winter," Deacon explained to John in an agitated tone. "Probably wants to keep the Saltzman name from being tarnished. I mean your son did pull the impossible John."

The hints of a smile cracked the corners of the vampire's mouth and John couldn't but help to smile as well.

"Well we Winchesters never were ones to give up on the ones we love," he admitted.

"So I've noticed," Deacon said in one breath. "Anyways, the Council or the Saltzmans know that safehouse is mine and I intend on keeping it that way. But back to the subject – finding Dean and the human. The Saltzmans play dirty….well I intend on playing dirty as well."

John watched as his friend pulled back a bookshelf and exposing a hidden space which held weapons and pouches along its walls. Deacon scanned the items and settled on the crossbow then grabbed several silver tipped arrows then a bottle of dead man's blood. The liquid played Hell on a vampire's body and Deacon knew it would come in handy for John.

"Now there is a place they may head to- Des Moines. It's a French settlement and they despise bounty hunters. If Dean knows about the town I suspect that is where they'll head. The best way is to take the old wagon trail north across the river. The only thing along the way are several villages and towns but they aren't a concern as the inhabitants despise the Council and anything associated with them."

"Thanks Deacon," Deacon smiled and took his friend in a brotherly embrace.

"Go get them John," he escorted him out to the Impala.

The race is on....Who will reach them first???