so another new chappy...I'd love to say this story is just about through, but I am fearing it still has a long ways to go to complete it properly. I think there is about one more chappy to go before I begin to delve into the healing process for the entire Winchester clan. Thanks for reading and for all the wonderful reviews!! bambers;)

Chapter Forty-Two

Dominic raised his sights to look at the gun pressed against his forehead, and then refocused his attention on Dean. A mirthless laugh escaped his bloodied lips as he met and held Dean's gaze. "Squeeze the t-trigger," he challenged, sounding not the least bit intimidated.

"If you think for a moment that I won't kill you, you're dead wrong, you sonuvabitch," Dean snarled. Sweat beaded on his brow, and dripped down into his eyes as he realized how close he was to killing another living person. In hesitation, his finger twitched on the trigger.

"Do it! Prove y-you're my son. M-make m-me proud." Dominic winced as he spit out a mouthful of blood, but then a sardonic grin spread across his bruised and battered features. "Pr-prove that you're jus' like me."

Dean's hand lingered on the trigger a moment longer and then he lowered his weapon. "I'm not like you," he breathed in disgust, hating himself for not actually being able to go through with killing Dominic. But no matter how much the malicious cult leader might have deserved it, Dean wasn't a murderer.

"S-sure you are, Dominic," the cult leader taunted, reverting back to addressing Dean by the name he had given him. "When g-given the p-proper motivation, y-you're jus' exactly like me."

"What do you mean?" Dean had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the the madman had somehow planned this confrontation and had prepared for it accordingly. He glanced around and for the first time realized that none of the Father's men had come to his aide. If they had been somewhere nearby Pastor Jim's cabin, assuredly they would have heard the sounds of gunfire, yet from what Dean could gather they were alone.

From there, Dean's thoughts immediately traveled to Sam. Although his little brother was with their father and Deacon, he knew they were planning on moving Sam from the hospital and that left them wide open to attack from Dominic's men.

"How much more do y-you think your brother can take?" Dominic jeered as he moved to wrap his injured hands around the gunshot wounds in his arms. "I'm guessin' not much from the look on your face."

"They'll never get to Sam," Dean hissed through clenched teeth, and balling his free hand into a fist, he slammed it into Dominic's face, knocking the older man to the ground again. "Not with my Dad there to protect him."

"Do I l-look like a stupid man to you, Dominic? Do I seem like the kind of person who would underestimate my enemies?" A maniacal laugh erupted from the madman as he spit out another mouthful of blood along with pieces of his broken teeth. "You took what was mine, an' now I'm t-takin' everything from you. An' by the time you leave here, you'll have nothing left to go back to."

Cold sweat prickled at Dean's back as stark fear welled and churned inside him. From everything he had learned of Dominic while being held as his captive, Dean knew instinctively that the elder man didn't make idol threats.

"What are you gonna do to them?" Dean asked, trying desperately to keep the tremor from his tone as sheer panic overrode any other emotion he was feeling at the moment.

"I'll give you a h-hint." Dominic pushed himself into a sitting position and leaned closer to Dean. A smirking grin settled on his features as he said, "It goes tick, tick, tick, BOOM." His dark eyes lit with pure malicious glee as he uttered the last word, leaving Dean with little doubt that he was telling the truth.

"You sick sonuvabitch!"

Dean raised his gun and leveled it on Dominic's forehead, and was about to pull the trigger when a horrible screeching sound caught him off guard. Before he was even able to figure out where the noise had come from, he was roughly thrown out of the way by an unseen force. From within a wisp of smoke, Shannon appeared in front of Dean, and with a twist of her hand, she knocked the gun out of his hand. A sad smile flitted across her face as she looked at him and then touched her stomach.

Then her image flickered, and within a blink, she was hovering beside Dominic. "You killed me," Shannon murmured. She bent and gently caressed her father's cheek, fingers trailing downward to grasp hold of his throat. "You killed my child." she leaned in and lightly kissed him on the lips, stealing his breath away. "You killed Dean's child." Shannon rose to her full height, dragging her father up off the ground.

"Sh-Shannon," Dominic croaked, eyes bulging in fear as he struggled to draw in a breath.

"You deserve to suffer." With that said, Shannon flung her father into the fire pit where Dean had burned her remains. She slowly raised her hands, and the breeze kicked up sending ash and debris flying throw the air. Thick branches snapped off several nearby trees, and with a single glance from her, they hurtled themselves like sharpen spears toward Dominic, impaling him to the ground. Blood-curdling screams ripped from Dominic's lips as more and more jagged pieces of wood pierced his flesh.

Within a flash, Shannon was standing in front of Dean again. She lifted her arm, and as she turned it Dean's knife unsheathed itself and flew into her outstretched hand. In a plume of fiery smoke she disappeared only to reappear in front of her father again. Kneeling beside him, she looked at the knife in her hand and it burst into flames.

"I forgive you, Father," she spat venomously as she drove the searing blade through his stomach, then raised it again and slammed it down into his forehead. Not yet finished, she stabbed him through the heart and with her final blow she viciously ripped through his windpipe. Blood spilled and bubbled from Dominic's lips as his gurgling screams died away. Dominic's head lolled to the side, dull, lifeless eyes staring directly at Dean, and the hunter couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief that the madman was finally dead.

She shifted to look at Dean, and smiled. "I'm sorry, Dean," she softly whispered, her voice carrying on the breeze to gently caress his face. Then she turned back to face her father and placed her hands on his motionless body, and within a heartbeat an explosion of golden-orange flames engulfed both Shannon and Dominic.

Dean shielded his eyes and shuffled backward as the roaring blaze grew in fierce intensity. Scorching flames licked at the dry grass and quickly spread outward toward Dean as thick, acrid smoke rose skyward. A sudden piercing scream tore from Shannon's lips as the fire violently imploded. The ground beneath Dean rumbled then cracked and buckled, and he hastily shimmied further back as the earth gave way, creating a massive, charred crater at least ten feet in diameter.

One last explosion rocked the earth, sending gray ash scattering through the air to rain down upon Dean as he slowly got to his feet. Edging his way around the crater, Dean scoured the area, searching for any signs of Dominic's remains, but couldn't find even the smallest piece of bone amongst the blackened ash and smoldering flames.

After one last look, he swung around and bolted for his car. With Dominic dead, his thoughts turned solely to saving Sam's life. By the time he slid behind the wheel of the Impala he was completely out of breath, and nearly doubled over as a sharp pain twisted in his side. Taking several deep inhales through his nostrils, his breathing slowly returned to normal and the pain subsided.

A brief thankful smile crossed his haggard features as he noticed his keys dangling from the ignition. However, the grin rapidly faded as he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Bobby laying in the backseat, and for a moment wondered if he might be dead.

"Bobby." Dean swiveled in his seat to check on the older hunter, and let out a deep sigh of relief when he heard him groan and curse in response. "I need your cell phone now, Bobby," he ordered, trying to keep his tone as even as possible under the circumstances.

"D-Dea . . . ." Bobby cracked one eye open to look at Dean, his other was swollen shut and already a deep shade of purple rimmed it.

"Yeah, Bobby, it's me." Dean winced as he surveyed the damage Dominic's men had done to his friend, guilt settling in as he realized it was his fault that Bobby had suffered the brutal attack. "I need your phone, I have to call my Dad an' warn him before it's too late."

"T-too late fer what?" Bobby managed to choke out as he struggled to sit up in his seat. Fishing around in his jacket pocket, he yanked out his phone and handed it to Dean.

"Dominic's men went after them, an' . . . ." Dean's voice abruptly trailed off as he recalled Dominic's last few words. If what he said was true, and Dean believed it was, then Sam and his father were running out of time.

"An' what?" Bobby leaned forward in his seat and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dominic . . . he mentioned . . . he said something about a bomb." Without waiting for the older hunter to respond, Dean jab the button on the phone, and waited for his Dad to answer, all-the-while praying that he wasn't too late. "Damn it," he swore under his breath when the call went immediately to voice mail. "He's not answering."

"C-call Deacon," Bobby suggested, although it wasn't really necessary as Dean had already scrolled down to their friend's number and placed the call.

After two rings, Deacon answered. "Hello?"

"Deacon, it's Dean," he said in a heated rush as he started the engine and tore out of the driveway. "Can I talk to my Dad? It's really important."

"I'm not with your Dad," came Deacon's voice over the line, "After we got Sam settled in the cabin John rented, he asked me to go out an' get some supplies."

"Where's the cabin?"

"What's wrong, Dean?" Concern now edged the elder man's tone. "Did you find Bobby?"

"Yeah, he's with me . . . look, I really need to know where my Dad and Sammy are."

"It's about a half hour's drive from the hospital, it's kinda hard to find, an' it's gettin' dark so it'll be near impossible to spot. So if you can meet me, I'll take you there."

Fear twisted in Dean's stomach as he listened to Deacon. His hands trembled as his grip tightened around the steering wheel. Dean pushed the gas pedal to the floor, and the Impala quickly picked up speed, eating up the miles in a flurry, but Dean still feared he wouldn't make it in time to save his little brother and father. "I don't know if we got that kind of time, Deacon. We have to get to them now."

"Tell me what's the matter, Dean," Deacon responded in a calm, even manner, taking on the reassuring tone of a police officer trying to get information from a frightened victim. "I can help you if you just tell me what's wrong."

"Dominic sent his men after Sam. He . . . he mentioned a bomb."

For several seconds Deacon remained silent, his unsteady breathing the only indication that he was still on the line. When he finally responded, there was a slight tremor in his voice. "I'll get to them, Dean. I swear I'm not gonna let anything happen to your family."