I know it's been a while since the last update, real life kept me busy. But here it is and this story will be finished soon. That I promise.

"But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire;

Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire."

The fire was gone. Sam Winchester wanted to cry over that fact, knowing that the heat was slowly killing him before. Now if he was going to die it would be from blood loss and probably whatever fever had a hold of him. He still felt sick, nauseous and dizzy as he stumbled against his brother through the never ending woods.

His injured side was away from his brother with Dean's arm high across his back and Dean's hand tight on his side. When Dean's grip would slide down Sam's torso he would take a minute to bring it back up. Always readjusting to keep away from Sam's wound and the youngest Winchester was grateful. The pull of every step brought the wound tugging at his skin and Sam just wanted to bend over and empty his stomach. However, Dean's persistence had him taking one more step, one more deep breath.

Sam's eyes were barely open but they were looking straight down into the mixture of dead leaves and grass he constantly stepped on. Every once in a while he would step on a rock and his balance would be thrown off. Before he had a chance to fall Dean would drag him back to semi-full height and continue pulling him forward. Sam's right arm was snaked around his brother's shoulders and Dean's hand was gripping his tight.

Sam didn't have any time to look Dean over for any injuries as he spent all his energy trying to stay awake. Dean was relentless as Sam was slapped and heaved onto his feet, as Dean begged his little brother not to pass out. So Sam did the only thing he could. He obeyed Dean.

The witch was dead. Sam knew that much in his hazy state but somehow he could still feel Dean tense next to him. Even with only the forest as company Dean's head would jerk at the slightest sound and stop them both to have his gaze scan the trees. Sam wanted to ask, make sure he didn't imagine the witch dying but he didn't have the strength. He could feel his energy draining like water down a sink.

"Almost there Sammy."

So close, one more step. One more. Now another.

The litany in Sam's head never stopped and he hoped Dean didn't just lie to him to make him feel better. Sam would have given up a lot at the moment to see the Impala pull up in front of them but all he saw was trees; giant imposing trees that had Sam rethinking Dean's tense state.

A readjust from Dean put his brother's hand closer to the wound than Sam would have liked. A small whimper escaped him before he could stop it and he knew his brother heard him. He wanted to be stronger than this, try to regain some strength as he continued through the forest. Sam could only feel weakness and his body was getting worse. He assumed it was from the blood loss even though he didn't remember the cut bleeding that much. Whatever the issue Dean would handle it.

"There you are baby."

Sam's head finally lifted from the constant vision of grass to see the impeccable black paint of the Impala in front of them. Sam felt himself give a smile before the signs told him exactly what was going to happen next. His knees buckled, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he barely spoke his brother's name before he was pulled back into unconsciousness.

"There's a flame that leads our souls astray,

No one's safe from its tender touch of pain."

"Dean…"

The whisper was faint and a second later Sam was going limp in Dean's embrace. Dean cursed at the luck but somehow tightened his hold on his brother and started dragging him towards the Impala. After an eternity he finally reached it and slowly lowered his brother onto the ground towards the rear of the car.

Dean went for the pulse and was not happy to find it beating way too fast under his fingers. Sam's breath was quick and shallow and Dean knew his body was starting to compensate for the fever and the poison.

"Damn it."

Dean went to the trunk of the Impala, opening it up quickly to start searching for the first aid kit he knew was there. It was a basic kit that they usually used to clean wounds and dig out bullet wounds for their hunts. The Winchester knew he had nothing about poison in the kit and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Dean didn't know what the witch used so Sam would have to fight the sickness the old fashioned way; with determination and Winchester famous stubbornness.

Dean knelt next to his brother and went straight for the foot long cut along his side. The wound wasn't deep but it was deep enough for a good cleaning and some stitches. The holes from the witch's think black stitching was another matter and he saw they were dark and purple. Dean was decided and he dragged out a flask of holy water and placed a hand on Sam's chest before pouring it on the wound.

Sam immediately awakened and cried out as his body instinctively bucked against the concrete. His left arm snaked out and grabbed a tight hold against the Impala's rear hubcap. His other hand landed on Dean's wrist that was on his chest and squeezed until Dean grimaced from the pain.

"Sam, I'm cleaning the wound. You're safe."

Sam's eyes were blown open from shock but they stayed locked on Dean's face. He didn't nod or even respond to his brother but he stayed awake. Dean took that as a win as he poured the rest of the holy water on the wound. The reaction was less this dramatic time around but still Sam closed his eyes against the pain and moaned. His grip somehow tightened around Dean's wrist as he tossed his head back and forth against the ground.

Dean went for the regular water next and was relieved to see that Sam barely reacted to this ministration. In fact his grip was lessening and Dean knew Sam would be passing out any minute now. Dean went for the gauze and Sam's hand fell limply away from him and his head turned a final time before coming to a stop.

Dean checked again and Sam's pulse was slowing down to a more normal pace but the skin underneath Dean's fingers was still hot from the fever. The oldest Winchester spent a few minutes sewing up Sam's wound and placing bandages to protect it from the elements. Dean took out the thermometer and placed it in his brother's mouth, holding it there as he waited.

It was on the back end of the night as Dean knew dawn was only about three hours away. The cold wind was still blowing over Dean's skin and it actually felt good against the heat his skin was still radiating. The beeping of the thermometer brought Dean back to his brother and his heart dropped as he saw the reading.

104.3

"No. No. No."

Dean plan was to drag Sam into the Impala and drive him to the closest motel which he knew was an hour away since the witch decided to live in the middle of nowhere. But now he wasn't even sure Sam would make it that far. Sam's skin was flushed red and his entire body was covered in sweat. Dean needed to get his temperature down to a normal level and he needed to do it now.

He left his brother lying on the cold concrete, hoping the chill would help his brother's body compensate for the fever. He stumbled to the trunk as he stood too quickly from his kneeling position. He rummaged through it hoping he could find something to help his brother. He needed ice and lots of it but he had nothing.

He cursed at finding nothing useful in his trunk and he turned back to Sam. Running his hands through his short spiky hair Dean thought quickly of some way to counter the poison. He needed to help Sam's body fight the fever since it looked like heat was a big factor to whatever poison the witch used.

Dean turned to the forest praying that the trees lost their magic once the witch died as he stepped cautiously forward. He gave one last look at his brother, hoping he would be safe lying by himself next to the Impala.

I have no choice. This is the only way.

Without a second thought Dean ran straight back into the forest hoping and praying he would find what he needed to save the youngest Winchester.