CHAPTER 9 - If we get out alive

Stumbling and struggling his way through the woods tired and sore, Dean knew the shifter would get to the cabin first. But what he didn't know or hadn't realized, was just how far behind it he actually was. By the time he emerged from the woods, his lungs were burning, he was gasping for breath and the shifter was nowhere in sight. He hunched over to place his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath, taking a moment to calm his racing heart and carefully study the eerily quiet scene. The cabin's front door was wide open but the lantern's light was no longer visible inside. His father's idling truck that had lured both him and the shifter back towards the cabin in the first place was also nowhere to be found.

Still unaware of where the others were he cautiously started to make his way over, the gun in his tight grip loaded and ready should he cross paths with the shapeshifter he knew was still out there. As he approached the small cabin he heard voices, one of them Sam's and to his dismay the other his own, a sign that the shifter had shed its skin yet again. "You son of a bitch." He muttered under his breath, anger and frustration momentarily overcoming exhaustion and pain. He paused at the bottom of the porch steps as the sound of shattering glass suddenly filled the silent night. He still couldn't see anyone in the cabin but as he made his way up those few steps, his eyes were instantly drawn to an amber glow inside. The cabin was dark and the light was dim at first but it quickly spread and when it did, his heart jumped to his throat. He could see the flames working their way up the wall, illuminating a scene he barely had time to take in as he approached the open door. He heard more glass break and saw the shifter take aim, shots ringing out before he could even raise his own gun. He couldn't see what its target was but there was no doubt in his mind that it was firing at Sam. The shifter never saw him coming and never turned to face him as he entered the small cabin with his gun drawn. By the time Dean pulled the trigger to put an end to the hunt that had cost him so much, four or five shots had already been fired.

He eyed the dead shifter on the floor of the cabin in front of him for only a moment before focusing on the fire that was now burning out of control, thoughts that he'd been too late now circling in his head. "SAM!?" He called out, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he took a cautious step forward, the heat keeping him at bay and the smoke preventing him from getting a good look around. "SAM!?" He repeated, the eerie sound of crackling sparks the only thing he could hear as he waited for some kind of response. When he saw his younger brother lying there on the bedroom floor, a wall of flames separating them, his heart skipped a beat. Sam wasn't moving, he'd likely been shot and there he was just out of reach. So close, yet so far away.

"SAMMY!" Dean shouted, panic setting in as he started to cough, the acrid smoke filling his lungs and making it harder to breath. "SAMMY!" As the seconds ticked away and the flames continued to spread, instinct kicked in, forcing him to follow orders that had long ago been seared into his soul. Looking out for his little brother was his job and sometimes that job was the only thing that kept him going. The last thing he wanted was to leave his brother like that but deep down Dean knew there was nothing he could do, not from where he stood inside that burning cabin. So he took a quick glance around, looking for anything he could use to reach the other man and that's when he focused on the ax leaning by the wood stove. His mind suddenly shifted gears. He tucked his gun away and grabbed the tool on his way out the door, hoping there would be a window he could reach on the other side, but prepared to make one if there wasn't.

It was the familiar voice that pulled him back to his senses and the smell of smoke that made everything fall back into place. When Sam opened his eyes all he could see was the old wooden floor he was lying on, the hot sparks falling around him singeing everything they touched. He could feel the heat of the flames on his back but he couldn't bring himself to get up. "Dean!" He shouted, swearing under his breath as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Dean?" The pain was excruciating and every breath was a struggle but Sam knew he couldn't stay there, not while the cabin was burning down around him. He swore under his breath as he started dragging himself towards the window, feeling the broken glass dig into the palm of his hands as he went on.

When Dean turned the corner and saw the duffle bag lying in the grass, he couldn't help but let out a short sigh of relief. This was a good sign, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise hopeless situation. He hurried over, his eyes instantly focusing on the cloud of dark smoke that was billowing out the broken window. Using his sleeve to cover his mouth, he took a quick look inside catching only a glimpse of his brother before the heat and smoke forced him away. "Sammy!"

That voice soared above everything else, bringing a moment of calm and comfort in a chaotic situation. "Dean!" Sam replied, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. "Dean I can't get up!"

"Cover your face, I'm coming in to get you!" Dean was quick to reply, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he lifted the heavy ax up to the window to knock out the rest of the broken glass. He let it drop to the ground at his feet as he lifted himself up to the ledge, quickly crawling inside as he had done so many times on the job. The shards of glass twisted and crunched under his feet as he made his way over to Sam, the bed nearby igniting as the intense heat pushed on. "C'mon Sammy." He started, hooking an arm around his brother's waist to hoist him up off the floor.

Sam let out a groan as the other man held him up, the pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He stumbled in his steps but Dean caught his balance for him, hurrying to get him to the window that had been only a few feet away.

"C'mon I've got you." Dean went on, trying to keep his younger brother awake and conscious as he helped him onto the sill.

Sam passed both legs out the window before turning over to let himself fall out, a cry of pain escaping his lips as both feet hit the ground hard. It took everything he had not to crumple into a heap as he leaned heavily against the burning building. Dean crawled out after him and Sam couldn't help but notice the blood that had been clearly visible before, was now covered in a layer of soot. "Dean you've been shot." He mindlessly blurted, pointing it out only because his brother didn't seem to notice or care.

Dean grabbed the duffle bag from the ground before wrapping an arm around his brother's waist again. It could have been the pain or it could have been the shock, whatever the reason, hearing Sam point out such a thing made the smile creep up to the corner of his lips. "Not the first time." He replied without missing a beat. "Looks like that shifter nicked you too huh?" He went on, eyeing the distant headlights of his father's truck as it emerged from the woods up ahead.

"I've been stabbed, mauled and I've had the shit beaten out of me." Sam started, sucking in a breath as his foot hit a rock and a wave of pain spread up his leg. "But I've never been shot before."

"Yeah I know Sammy, but just hang in there I'll fix ya up." Dean replied, gently letting his brother down once they reached the gravel road. He sucked in a breath as he straightened out and placed a hand to his chest, his gaze focusing on the approaching truck before drifting back towards the burning cabin nearby. "You stay here, I'll be right back."

Sam's head snapped up as his brother started to make his way back towards the cabin. By then the rear half of the building was fully engulfed and flames could be seen shooting up through the roof. "Dean!? DEAN!" He called out, failing to get the other man's attention as he watched him disappear inside.

Bobby swore under his breath as he pulled up to Sam who was sitting alone by the side of the road. He left the truck running as he jumped out and made his way over to the younger man, his eyes instantly drawn to the inferno nearby. "What the hell happened?" He was quick to ask, his eyes still glued to the burning cabin as he knelt down next to Sam. "I was gone no more than ten minutes!" Sam swallowed hard as Bobby pulled his hands away from the bullet wound on the back of his leg. "It was the shifter." He started, sucking in a breath and leaning back to place his hands on the cold damp ground behind him for support. "The damn thing lit the place up and shot me while I was trying to get out of there." He explained, watching as the veteran hunter grabbed a handkerchief from John's nearby duffle bag.

"Where's your brother, is he still in the woods?" Bobby was quick to ask as he wrapped the handkerchief tightly around Sam's leg, ignoring the string of swears that followed as he tied off a knot to keep it in place.

Sam shook his head, his eyes tearing up again as his mind started to race, panic and pain getting the best of him all at once. "Dean killed the thing and got me out of the cabin, but then he want back inside."

"What? Why?" Bobby asked, catching the young hunter's eyes. When he didn't get an answer, he reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "WHY?"

"I don't know why." Sam choked as he shook his head. "He just told me to wait here, that he'd be right back."

Bobby swore under his breath as he got up from Sam's side, his gaze drifting back towards the burning cabin just as Dean emerged from the front door dragging the shapeshifter's body out and down the front steps. "DEAN!" He shouted as he raced towards the cabin.. "Why the hell would you go back into a burning building for that damn thing!" He shouted, watching as the young hunter grabbed his father's gun from the dead shifter's grip.

Coughing as the cold air filled his lungs, Dean hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath. The contrast between the cool night air and the hot acrid smoke was such a shock to his body, that even the air slithering across his face was hitting him like pins and needles.

"You alright?" Bobby asked, concern evident in his voice as he eyed Dean and then looked back over to Sam who was still sitting on the ground by the idling truck. "Why'd you go back in there?" He repeated, taking another good look at the other man hunched over in front of him. He could feel the heat radiating off the young hunter and the handcuff that was clamped around his wrist was as hard to miss as the blood soaking through his clothes. Even the soot that clung to him couldn't hide all that blood.

Dean offered a nod as he cautiously straightened out, pressing a hand to his chest to apply pressure to the wound that had yet to stop bleeding. "Now the cops wont be looking for me anymore." He explained, eyeing the dead shifter that was still sporting his form. "Problem solved. They've got a body, so now they can stay the hell off my ass."

Though the young hunter offered a smile as their eyes met, Bobby could tell it was forced. "Cmon let's get you and your brother back to my place so I can take a look at those wounds." He said softly, eyeing the burning cabin one last time before turning to make their way back to the truck. "We need to get out of here fast. There's a couple houses up on the ridge and I bet that fire's going to be spotted from miles away."

"Did you find Dad?" Dean asked, the sound of hissing sparks falling to the background as they reached the idling truck. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah we found him, he's fine." Bobby replied, reaching down to help Sam back up to his feet. "But he's in no condition to drive, so one of you two is going to have to take the wheel of his truck while I take my car and your dad back up to my place."

"I'll drive." Dean started, watching as the veteran hunter helped his brother into the front seat. There was a moment of silence and when Bobby turned to face him, Dean couldn't help but notice the look on his face. "What?"

"Nothing." Bobby replied simply, stepping aside so Dean could get in. As he made his way over towards the driver's side, his gaze once again drifted to the burning cabin by the woods and the shapeshifter's lifeless body on the ground by the front steps. The hunt might have been over but this was nowhere near being wrapped up. Next came the faked police reports and investigations, something he was a pro at. He glanced over at the two men sitting beside him as he eased the truck into drive and pulled away, his mind racing back through the years as he watched Dean take a look at his injured little brother. "You killed another cop by the way, a Marshall." He started, turning his attention back to the dark road ahead.

"Yeah I gathered that much." Dean whispered, passing a hand over his face to wipe the soot from his brow. "When I realized the Shifter was the one arresting me for trespassing, I just knew the son of a bitch had killed again."

"I found the Marshall's body in his car, it was hidden under a tarp behind the cabin." Bobby went on. "So that shifter put the blood of two lawmen on your hands."

"Yeah well son of bitch's dead now." Dean hissed, his free hand grabbing at the handcuff that was clamped around his wrist. "I told you I'd take care of my own mess. They think I murdered that Sheriff and I bet they're going to pin that Marshall's murder on me too. Now that they're gonna consider me dead, this case should be closed." Sam couldn't help but look over as his older brother traced the edges of the cuff with blood stained fingers. He'd accomplished his goal, had solved the mess he made yet still he seemed nervous about something, there was still something on his mind. "Here, let me get that off for you." He offered, reaching into his pocket to pull out his set of lock picking tools. Though his leg was still sore from the gunshot wound, the pain had already started to subside.

Dean extending his hand to his brother and watched as Sam carefully started picking away at the lock. Picking locks was a skill and how Sam could even attempt such a precise task in a dark and moving vehicle, was truly beyond him. In no time, the soft click of the lock unlatching was heard and the handcuff loosened from around his wrist. "Thanks Sammy." He was quick to reply as he pulled the cuff free and dropped it to the floor.

"All right well you know how your dad loves running on empty, so be sure to gas up at that station we passed on the way in or you'll never make it back to my place." Bobby said as he eyed his car parked by the gate. "Oh and try not to draw too much attention to yourself while you're there." He added, getting out of the truck and watching as Dean did the same.

"I'll try not to." Dean replied frankly, well aware that he was covered in soot and blood. "See you there." He said, climbing up behind the wheel of his dad's truck as Bobby got into his own car and pulled away. "You still good, Sammy?" He asked, as he too pulled back out onto the road.

"Yeah I'm good." Sam replied simply, wincing as he straightened out. "How about you?"

There was a moment of silence and Dean couldn't help but feel his grip on the wheel tighten. "I'm good." He replied, knowing all too well that such a vague response wasn't enough for his little brother.

"Liar." Sam muttered, looking over to catch Dean's eyes for only a moment before the other man focused on the dark road ahead. "Dean I know you took a shot to the shoulder before you darted into the woods and I know you're still sore from the one you took to the side the night before."

"What do you want me to say Sam? You already know I've been shot twice, I've more than likely lost a lot of blood and you & I both inhaled a little smoke."

"I just want you to be honest with me." Sam quietly started. "I'm not a little kid anymore you don't have to lie to me, you don't..."

"I have never lied to you Sam." Dean cut in, regretting the moment he raised his voice when he felt it resonate deep inside. "Never."

"No but you never tell me the whole truth either."

There was an awkward moment of silence and Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh. His little brother really had changed since the last time they had seen each other two years ago. "Here comes the brigade." He remarked, only to change the subject as flashing lights lit up the dark road ahead. Both eyed the small convoy of fire trucks as they flew by down the road, heading for the cabin ablaze in the woods.

"Wonder if Bobby called it in." Sam said, turning in his seat to watch as the lights disappeared behind them and the sirens faded away.

"When I was in the woods I could see a light off on the ridge, like Bobby said, someone probably spotted the fire from there." Dean replied, taking a quick glance at the clock, it was just past midnight. When his gaze drifted back to the dash gauges in front of him he swore under his breath, making Sam lean in to take a look at what he'd seen.

"Does dad always drive it till it's this low?" The younger man asked, eyeing the fuel light that had just come on and the needle that was hovering over the empty mark.

"Yeah he's got a Jerrycan in the back just in case he runs out, but he keeps the tank low like this when he needs an excuse."

"An excuse for what?" Sam continued, his curiosity kicking in.

"Well that cabin he was squatting in, if anyone asked he'd tell them that it was getting dark and he was about to run out of gas." Dean explained, reciting one of the many tactics his father had used over his long hunting career.

"He really does have a plan laid out for everything, doesn't he?" Sam asked, the smile creeping up to the corner of his lips.

"Pretty much." Dean replied, still unsure of how he was going to explain himself to their father once they did meet up at Bobby's house. "There's the station." He said as it came into view. "You stay here, I'll pump the gas." Sam offered as they pulled up to the deserted pumps.

"No I'll get..."

"Dean, you look like a bloody mess. I've got this." Sam replied as he extended his hand and waited for the other man to pass him the cash. Their eyes never met as Dean reached into his pocket to pull out a few twenty dollar bills, handing them over before he shut off the truck.

Sam took a glance around as he made his way over to the pump and started fueling up, his gaze drifting to the small store and to the lone attendant stationed behind the counter. As the numbers continued to climb, his mind started to wander. The hunt had been a hard one on his brother and never before had he seen the other man struggle so much just to prove himself. When the pump eventually shut off, he tucked the nozzle away and momentarily leaned into the window. "Want anything inside?" He asked, his voice obviously pulling Dean out of his own scattered thoughts. When his brother shook his head, Sam made his way to the store, the bell over the door ringing as he walked in.

"That'll be $64" The man stated without looking up. As Sam counted out the bills, the man's gaze drifted towards the window. "Nice ride." He remarked. "Seen one just like it the other day."

"Oh it was probably the same one." Sam politely replied as he handed over the cash. "My brother and I came down for the weekend, now we're heading back to town."

"You don't say." He man continued, eyeing the young hunter carefully as he handed him his change.

"Mind if I use the rest room?" Sam asked, watching as the clerk pointed him towards the back of the store. "Thanks."

Dean tapped a finger on the wheel as he waited for his younger brother to emerge from the store. The gunshot wound in his shoulder had finally stopped bleeding and now that he was no longer running through the woods, the pain had started to subside. He knew he'd still need some medical attention, but not being alone or left to do it on his own put his mind at ease. Bobby could do a better job with the stitching than he ever could. When Sam finally walked out, he started the truck.

"Hey Dean this back tire's flat." Sam remarked, pointing towards the rear passenger wheel as he approached.

"You gotta be kidding me." Dean replied as he got out of the truck. Making his way around to take a look for himself, he never even noticed the baseball bat tucked behind Sam's back.