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"Its okay, Sammy, its all gonna be fine." Dean let go of the steering wheel and reached across to his brother, closing his hand over Sam's own fist which was holding Dean's overshirt against his wound. Dean pressed Sam's hand down harder, and Sam groaned.

"Sorry, man," Dean said, not moving his hand. "Gotta stop that bleeding."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tightly, restricting his reply to a short nod. He was worried that if he spoke his voice would come out as a croak. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. Dean increased his pressure and Sam let out a yelp, swatting Dean's hand away.

"Sorry, Sam, sorry!" Dean said hastily. His eyes flickered anxiously between the road and the growing red stain on Sam's jacket shoulder.

After Sam had passed out in the church, Dean had panicked. Suddenly he didn't care about chasing Gordon and helping Opium, he only needed Sam to wake up. The pain must have driven his brother into unconsciousness. Dean had crouched over him, shaking him and calling his name for a full ten minutes before Sam had begun to stir. It was only then that Dean had remembered himself and finally thought to strip off his overshirt and press it against the flow of blood. It had then been another ten minutes before Sam had become fully conscious, and another ten before Dean could get him on his feet and support him out of the church.

By the time they finally reached Vicky's house, the bleeding was beginning to slow. Dean scrambled out of the car and raced around to Sam's side to open the door for him, reaching down to help him up. He wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, taking most of his weight as they made their slow way towards the door. Vicky opened it before they got there and came striding out to meet them.

"What happened?" she demanded, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the blood staining Sam's jacket. "Oh god... have you been shot?"

"Just a little bit," Sam said faintly, wincing.

Vicky stared at Dean. "Lusing...?"

"No," Dean replied grimly, moving past her with Sam. "Gordon."

"Gordon!?"

Dean eased Sam down on the sofa and then dived for his duffel bag. He pulled out their first aid kit and returned to Sam, who was gingerly pulling off his shirt, gasping with pain as he did so. Dean swiftly soaked a swab with alcohol and pressed it to Sam's shoulder. Vicky had followed them slowly into the house and was standing before them, her arms tightly folded in front of her. For a few moments there was silence. When Vicky finally spoke, her voice sounded small.

"Where's... where's Opium?"

Sam looked up quickly, his pale face suddenly taught. Dean wet his lips and then spoke, keeping his tone steady.

"We couldn't save him. My guess is Gordon... well, he said he wanted to ask some questions but knowing him..." his voice trailed off. "I'm sorry, Vicky."

The blood drained from Vicky's face as she stared at him. She swallowed hard, searching for words, but none came out. Dean quickly turned his attention to Sam's shoulder. It was a small wound - probably only need two or three stitches.

"Find your happy place, Sam," he muttered, reaching for the needle.

Sam shut his eyes. Vicky was now gazing at the floor, her jaw working hard. Her mouth opened, and then closed again.

"Maybe... maybe its not too late," she whispered.

Dean didn't reply. He tied off the first stitch and started on the next. Vicky pressed a hand to her mouth and then moved quickly over to the table and sat down. Dean tried to pretend he couldn't hear the first of her quiet sobs and concentrated on Sam.

"Dean," Sam murmured. "We have to do something..."

"Like what?" Dean demanded under his breath. "You know as well as I do that Gordon probably killed Opium as soon as he had the chance, or whoever was helping him did. There's nothing we can do."

"We don't know that for sure! Dean, we have to try..."

"You've just been shot, Sam!" Dean hissed back. "We're not going anywhere until you can stand up without fainting like sleeping beauty."

Sam scowled at him. Dean carefully taped gauze over the wound, checking it was secure before finally taking his hands away. Sam opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue more, but was cut off as Dean's mobile suddenly began to ring. Dean frowned and pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. He didn't recognize the number. He looked at Sam, and then answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Dean."

Dean's eyes narrowed. Gordon. He shot a meaningful glance at Sam. "How'd you get this number?"

"I got my ways," Gordon replied.

"Put him on loudspeaker," Sam said.

Dean hesitated, but then nodded and switched his mobile to loudspeaker. Gordon's voice filled the room. Vicky went quiet and then made her way over to them, standing behind the sofa with her arms folded tightly.

"That you, Sam? How's that bullet feeling?"

Sam scowled. "Where's Opium, Gordon? Spit it out."

Gordon chuckled. "Right next to me, actually. Him and I have been having a chat, right fang? Wanna talk to him?"

Sam and Dean exchanged warning looks. This definately was not headed anywhere good. Vicky sucked in a sharp gasp as Opium's voice suddenly came on. It had lost its quiet, sullen tone and had taken on an almost desperate edge.

"Listen, guys, whatever you do don't - AAARRRGGHH!"

He broke off with a sudden scream of pain, and Vicky lunged towards the mobile as if she could somehow help him.

"Opium!"

The scream cut off abruptly and Gordon's voice returned.

"I tried to tell him not to say anything important but those fangs are all the same. Think they're too good to listen to lowlifes like us, hmm?"

The last part was obviously directed at Opium, and Dean heard a venomous snarl in the background. Dean balled his hands into fists, feeling a sudden flare of anger.

"Why are you doing this, Gordon?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

"C'mon, Dean, don't play dumb. You already know what I want. Sam for the vampire."

Silence. Vicky's hands were gripping the back of the sofa tightly, her eyes suddenly fixed on Sam. Dean kept his gaze on his brother, trying to think of something to say. He would have told Gordon to stuff it, but Vicky was with them. And Vicky cared for Opium a whole lot more than he, Dean, ever would.

"I'll give you guys three hours to chew it over. Then I'll call again... I'll expect an answer."

Gordon hung up. Dean slowly reached down and switched off his mobile, his mouth suddenly dry. The silence seemed to grow louder and louder until it was almost deafening. Finally, Vicky cleared her throat.

"What are we going to do?"

"We can't give them Sam," Dean said quietly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Vicky, but we just can't."

"Then what are we going to do?" she repeated, her voice growing slightly shrill. "I'm not just going to leave him to die!"

"And neither are we," Sam said suddenly. It was the first thing he had said since Gordon had called. He returned Dean and Vicky's gazes steadily, his mouth set. "Once vampires get your scent, its for life, isn't it?"

"Yes," Vicky said. "What does that matter?"

"I was just thinking... can vampires smell out other vampires?"

For someone who was now on the run from hunters, Lusing was surprisingly easy to find. He was sitting in the same bar where Sam and Dean had first seen him, hunched over a beer in the corner of the muggy, smokey room, his dirty blonde hair straggling around his face. Dean felt for his gun and started forwards, but Sam threw out a hand to stop him.

"No. You wait back here."

Dean shot him a disbelieving glance. "Sam, you gotta be kidding me..."

"Please, Dean," Sam said. "Let me handle this one."

Dean sighed heavily but then nodded and leant back against the wall. Sam could feel his brother's eyes on the back of his neck as he made his way across the room to where Lusing was sitting. The vampire glanced at him as he sat down, and then growled in the back of his throat and looked back at his drink.

"Cut me a break, hunter, I've just betrayed my only brother to your kind."

"Gordon Walker is not our kind," Sam said, sitting down opposite him. "And I'm not here to lope your head off. I just want to talk."

Lusing sniggered. For a moment, he reminded Sam bizzarely of his own brother - the smirking, sullen bravado to hide the breakdown threatening to take over.

"Fine," Lusing muttered. "Talk. Just don't expect me to listen."

Sam leant forwards on the table, staring intently at the vampire. Lusing shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, his fingers tightening on his glass as if he wanted to throw it in Sam's face.

"Why would you do that to Opium?" Sam asked softly. "I mean, sure, he dissapointed you. You guys didn't get along. But that's hardly a good reason to hand him over to a blood-thirsty vampire hunter, is it? He's still your brother..."

"Yeah, he is," Lusing snapped, his voice rising sharply. "You think I wanted any of this? I had no choice. My first priority is to protect the colony. Gordon threatened it. I had to give him what he wanted."

"Only, you didn't," Sam said. "Gordon's happy to exchange Opium's life for mine."

Lusing looked at him, his eyes flashing angrily. "Well, how about you go ahead and hand yourself over if you care so much? Why're you coming crying to me?"

"Because," Sam replied, "If I know Gordon, he's going to get everything he can out of Opium before we agree to anything. He'll want to know where your colony is. And I can bet you anything, after he's killed me, he'll be coming straight after the rest of you."

"Opium wouldn't tell him anything."

"Yeah, well, Gordon can be very persuasive."

Lusing flinched slightly at the word and then burried his head in his hands, clutching at his hair. "What do you want me to do?" he mumbled. "This is Gordon Walker... there are only four of us left in the colony for christ's sake..."

"Either way," Sam said. "Its still your brother who's suffering here. I'm just giving you a chance to help him. Take it or leave it."

He waited. Lusing didn't move, his face still hidden by his hair. Sam sighed heavily and rose to his feet.

"Fine. Leave him to die, then. Its time we skipped town anyway."

He turned and began to move away. He managed about three steps before Lusing leapt to his feet, his voice ringing through the bar.

"Wait... wait!"

Sam met Dean's gaze and smiled. Then he turned around and returned to the table, Dean striding over to join them.

Now they could finally get somewhere.

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