Dean was all but sure when he finally stood on the cabin's veranda. It was set in the middle of pines rising high above it and thick evergreens circling it, making the cabin seem embraced by nature, like a fucking postcard. The front consisted of two large windows, too large for his liking and a door which lock it would take forever to pick. The graveled path, leading up to the veranda, continued around the corner and vanished into darkness. Dean cocked his eyebrows in Bobby's direction.

"Safest of them all," Bobby replied to the unspoken question. "And the generator actually works and the tank is full. Even has indoor plumbing so I wouldn't complain too much, considerin'."

"Yeah? I'd take demon-free over indoor plumbing any day," Dean remarked dryly.

"Ruby says we've lost them. But we gotta get rid of the rig or they'll pick up the scent soon enough. There's no alternative, Dean. Sam can't ride in the car back to my place, he needs rest or we'll kill him. Missouri explained that diffuse axonal lesion thing, if he has it, another hit to the head probably will kill him. What he needs is another MRI but can we risk taking him to another hospital? We would have to leave him there because the rig is too dangerous now that they are looking for us. Sooner or later someone will spot us."

"I know," Dean steeled his stance. He wanted to drive Sammy to another hospital, admit him and have him there to be properly taken care of. But there would always be questions asked and he had no idea what stealing a patient would get you. Either way he turned, he was risking Sam's life.

"Dean, let's get him out of the rig and get settled for the night. We all need a good nights sleep and if things look worse in the morning, I'll take him to the hospital. You'll have to keep a low profile but the girls can watch out for Sam if need be." Bobby tried to sound confident but he wasn't really pulling it off.

Dean nodded and turned back to watch the rig that was parked on the narrow road, all lights shut off except the dim orange glow inside and it struck Dean that it worked as a perfect beacon in the night. Far to conspicuous to keep around.

"Let's just keep the rig for another couple of days," he said, keeping his eyes away from Bobby's, not to reveal the odd feeling he had about all this. "We'll just have to conceal it in the woods or something."

"You know that the longer we keep it around the longer we'll have Ruby," Bobby muttered while passing Dean on his way to the rig. "I'll go help the girls. You get inside and take a load off. Lock is picked and the place is all salted and ready."

"Like a can of soup," Dean muttered and shouldered the door open. It screeched in protest before it opened into a rectangular room. Dean let the flashlight run along the walls and noted a kitchenette to the left, cramped in between the door and a wall that seemed newer than the rest. Stepping inside he noted that the wall formed a small square that held the bathroom. There were no windows on the opposite wall, only two homebuilt bunks that seemed at least a century old. In the middle of the floor there was a whitewashed fireplace with two moldy chairs placed in front of the opening. On the other side of the cabin, right under the windows to the west, was a table with sturdy benches around it, a kerosene lamp on top of it. He could spot only two electrical outlets in the room, and wondered how powerful the compressor in the cellar was? Would it even have enough juice to jump-start Sam's heart all over if needed?

He turned to the door at the sound of dear Missouri Mosley reading Sam the riot act. Finally Sammy too had gotten himself into the doghouse. The funny thing about the conversation was that it seemed totally one-sided and still so very clear.

"No you can't walk on your own, not even gonna let you try it. You have still have a fever, you fool! You haven't been on your feet for five days, and now you wanna wobble around on unsteady terrain? Right, why not take on a marathon while you're at it? We'll have Dean run behind on that knees of his, holding the oxygen tank. And the more you blabber, the more certain I am that you really do have something loose in that head of yours. Now hush and don't you dare glare at me, boy!"

The gravel crunched under footsteps and wheels.

"You're just as bad as that brother of yours, ain't yah? Stop complaining or I'll leave that neck-brace on for a week. An' I don't care that it itches, I'm kinda itching to get a spoon and spank you as is. And dont'cha worry boy, I will spank you if you don't do exactly what I tell you to do. And yes, it was necessary to put that thing on you, you do have a head-injury, you just proved it with this foolishness of wanting to take a walk. Now hush before you give me one too!"

"Welcome to life with the Winchesters," Bobby huffed, flicking on the dim ceiling lamp. "Stubborn bastards the lot 'o them!"

Dean wanted to protest but the gurney rolled inside the room and he looked at his brother instead. Grinning at the flushed and mortified geek; he shone the flashlight on Sam's face that was scrunched up in the most majestic of bitchy faces. "Look what the ladies dragged in, one ugly dude this one."

"Men," Ruby huffed. "Should have heard him in the car on our way to the hospital. He almost made my heart break with his bitching but was he able to tell Sam he was scared? Oh no, not Dean Winchester, royally screwed up hard-ass."

Dean awkwardly patted Sam's good shoulder. "How cute, your girlfriend's defending you, Sammy."

San narrowed his eyes and glared.

Missouri opened the clips and freed him of the neck-brace. "Such a good boy," she crooned and Dean made mocking faces behind her back.

"Just kill me now." Sam muttered and pulled the blanket over his head.

Petulant as ever, Dean noted, and suddenly felt much calmer. Of course it might be because Ellen had fired up the stove and there was the sound of eggs being whipped. Ruby sank down in one of the chairs and groaned while Bobby closed the salted line at the door before stepping out again. Missouri hooked Sam up and the beeps that had become Dean's link to sanity started their calming rhythm. It was like some sick travesty of family life and it was right up Dean's alley. All he had ever known was this whacked up reality.

Missouri's berating of Sam continued when the sharp stench of sterilizing liquid filled the air and Dean turned back to look at the two of them. Missouri tucked Sam's feet in under a second blanket because the first one had proven too short, stubbornly pulled up over Satchquatch's head as it was.

Dean was amazed that Sam managed to literally pout with his entire body while covered with blankets.

He'd never admit to the surging of his heart when he looked at the bundle on the gurney. If things had gone the other way, he might not be looking at his pain in the ass brother but at the remains of the stubborn, geeky ass. The quilts around Sam suddenly woke memories that had his chest hurt. Having to torch Sam, like they had their father, was a thing Dean knew was a possible outcome of the life they lived. He'd had plenty of nightmares doing just that; putting Sam to his last rest. The trained soldier in him told him it was not only possible but even likely. He'd already clasped the saggy body of his dead brother in his arms once. He would probably have to leave Sam in a couple of months but that meant nothing as long as Sam didn't leave him. Too many people had left him already and hell would be a breeze compared to having to torch Sam's body.

Missouri's hand around his elbow startled him.

"Sit down for a while, Dean. You look about ready to drop. I'll dress that knee of yours and get you a cup of Chamomile."

She walked him over to the chair and he sank into it, straightening out his aching leg.

"Sweetie, I know you're hurtin'. You just gotta believe me; everythin's gonna be fine in the end. I can feel it."

Her hand came up to caress his chin and Dean was taken aback from the comfort the gesture brought him. Her hand was warm against his skin, her eyes calm, with the wisdom of a thousand years they rested on his, smiling with conviction before she left him for the kitchenette.

Sam freed the blanket from the his face and grinned. "Hunney-pie being babied?"

"Shut up bitch," he growled at the pain in the ass leering at him.

"I heard that boys! Plenty of spoons around to sort the two of you out with," Missouri let them know.

"Just kill me now" Dean groaned.

The shift in Sam's eyes was instant. A darkness shadowed them briefly, like an omen, before Sam's face settled and he smiled at the wise-crack, as expected.

Something in the glazed, dark eyes, sent the skin on Dean's back into goosebumps.

Sam felt the chill sweeping over him before he managed to open his eyes. Groggily he rolled to his side before he was truly awake and knowledge settled. His heartbeat rose to drum in his temples. The fire cast a cold blue light into the room. The odd coloring had him on full alert. He pulled his legs over the edge, his body screaming in protest and let his eyes scan the room. A window was cracked, a large rock lying under it, the salt line broken. Ruby was pinned up on the wall. Her face was frozen in a silent scream. His eyes scanned the room for Dean just as a figure crept into the room through the window. He yelled his brother's name in desperation but no sound was heard.

He was off the gurney, legs shaking while making his way to the demon holding the sound captive and efficiently stopping his only weapon. In the corner of his eyes he saw Dean being dragged over the floor by unseen forces. The anger that flared up in him held no boundaries. He snapped the bottle of holy water from the counter before he lunged at the demon in the middle of the floor. Everything was a blur and he had no idea why he was doing what he was doing. Something from deep inside took over and led the way, and he followed without hesitation.

His hand curled around the demon's sturdy neck, forcing the jaw open enough for him to fill the open mouth with water from the bottle. The demon's eyes flashed with icy blue and Sam pressed harder, feeling the vertebrae neatly in the palm of his hand. With a snap, the neck broke, sending the human to the floor, convulsing with its possessor's battle. Ruby fell to the floor with a thud and went for the knife, slicing the throats of two in the blink of an eye . Sam briefly met with her eyes just as one of the demons growled and escaped through the window and Ruby followed suit, the knife glinting with red in the amber light. Sam turned to get to Dean. His brother's pained breaths had his chest ache and the rage stripped him of all humanity. This demon had possessed a young girl; face contorted with sadistic lust and animal hunger, she held her hand around his brother's neck, forcing life out of him. Sam folded his hand, soaked with holy water and blood, around her neck and squeezed. This one would not go easy, this one had laid its hand on his brother. This one would suffer.

He pulled the innocent body to his, lowering his head enough to lean his cheek against the possessed girl's temple. Quietly he whispered into the ear, partly covered with golden-blond, wavy hair. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

The demon battled inside the frail body, twisting the tendons and muscles in a wild, morbid dance of death. In the background he heard the wail of the demon being shipped back to hell, drench Bobby's reciting voice.

Dean slid down the wall, gasping for air and not until Ellen was by his side did Sam continue his whispering. "Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt. "

The black of the eyes flickered; human hazel seared through the darkness and Sam's resolve wavered in the presence of what he had set out to save a long time ago. Such a long time that it was hard to remember all he had promised himself. He'd probably broken every promise a hundred times already.

The demon within had not given up entirely, it sent the girl into convulsions, trying to conjure strength to break free. The girl's arms flailed, her nails digging into Sam's flesh. He looked over at Dean, his brother's eyes widened in shock and disgust. Ellen's arms draped around him, faces ghastly white in the dim light. Missouri standing by their side, tears trickling down her cheeks, an empty bag of salt in her hand. Sam closed his eyes and pulled the girl to him, softer now, not wanting to hurt what had already been soiled by possession. He leaned his head against the girl's, lips touching the earlobe in effort to give some relief and in wanton need to offer some solace. "Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos."

The blackness from inside the weakened body finally relented its hold, a thundering sound deafening Sam as he was engulfed in the back sulfuric cloud and flung forward. His hand, still around the girl's neck, tightened reflexively and snapped the spine like a dry twig.

Sam was relieved when darkness swallowed him.

Dean's entire body ached and his throat felt raw. He must have blacked out for a while because when he came to, he was no longer nailed to the wall. The color in the room had changed into a warm amber tone from the fire and sound was back. The remains of two possessed were lying in pools of blood on the floor. They were the signs left behind by a much more ruthless huntress than Bobby, who had a steady grip on his wailing, possessed victim, reciting the last words for the demon inside.

Ellen was silent at Dean's side, but he was able to hear her breaths and feel her arms tightening around him. Missouri ducked for the freed smoke of the last demon and salted the door and the window. Stopping further intrusion before she hurried to their side.

It would have been a successful hunt if it weren't for Sam.

What was unfolding before Dean's eyes ripped his heart out. The possessed girl could have been Jessica. The same height, the same wavy hair and slim figure. But the eyes were black and dead. And the way Sam was exorcising her told Dean that he knew. His grip on the girl was almost tender, his lips close to her ear whispered quietly, like it was a private moment between the two of them. Sam didn't even move when the girl's nails dug into his skin, scratching red welts on his forearm. He only looked up once, when the demon was losing its grip and the girl's frightful eyes showed through the black veil of evil. Sam's pain was evident in that instance; dejected and desolate he closed his eyes and pulled the girl closer.

And that picture would never leave Dean; the way Sam held the girl. The closeness of their bodies, the way the tendons and muscles rippled on Sam's scratched forearm, yet he never physically damaged the girl. There was not a sign on her skin, despite the violent opposition of the demon inside. When Sam lowered his cheek to rest on hers, his thumb ran over the delicate skin on her neck, like a calming caress.

Dean's breath hitched.

The back cloud that emerged had enough force to push the air out of Dean's chest as it momentarily pulled all light out of the room.

When the dark cloud rose to the ceiling, thundering back to hell and leaving the devastation behind, Dean crawled over to his fallen brother. Sam was sprawled out over the floor, his damaged body still as in death. And for a moment Dean believed it was the case. That this had been Sam's last fight. The dead girl lay over his legs, staring with open, spent eyes into a void. Dean's fingers shivered when he searched for a pulse and the second he touched the burning skin, Sam made a coughing sound and Missouri was by their side, pushing the dead girl away.

"He alive?" She asked incredulously, gripping Sam's bloodied wrist."Why's his hand bleeding like this? He ripped the IV out?"

Dean's hand was around the back of Sam's neck, the pulse throbbing fast against his fingertips. "Sure he is, just likes to scare the crap outta me, the sonuvabitch!" His voice was a trembling, raw mess.

He noticed Missouri on her knees at their side, inserting a new IV port in the vein at Sam's elbow, muttering under her breath. Bobby appeared, visibly shaken as he looked at them. Ellen walked up to his side, face still ghastly white when she extended the bag of fluids to Missouri. A knock on the door had Bobby walk over and open it, breaking the salt line momentarily to let Ruby inside.

"Got it?" he asked in a low voice and Ruby nodded when she walked inside, her eyes instantly on Sam.

Not a word was uttered while Missouri shone a light into Sam's eyes and exhaled. "Pupils reactive, that's at least some good news. Pulse's all over the place though. Let's hope it's because of the strain." She paused for a second, composing herself. "But damned, he's all scratched and banged up again. That hand's gonna require stitches and god nows what this did to his incisions," she said, voice set in professional mode. Then her voice cracked. "What the hell was that? Sam's army? "

Dean looked up at her, pissed that she didn't keep her mouth shut about the mind-reading she sported. Surely there was some code about what you could blabber about?

"Yeah," Ruby answered. "At least part of it. Never seen anybody so willing to kill off his disciples before."

"That's why what they did didn't affect him? He just walked over and killed the first one off, like he knew what to do." Missouri looked over Dean's shoulder at Ellen, pointing at something by the gurney. It took awhile before Ellen moved and Ruby's eyes followed her with puzzled concern before she spoke.

"Nice trick with the look-alike, thou. But you're right, they just came to get him. I think they didn't even suspect him to put up such a fight. They reacted too late and too slow, Sam already had them when they finally got that he wasn't coming along. And I thought it was Lilith behind it all. Damned, Sam's another five soldiers short."

"I need some holy water," Missouri asked when Ellen re-appeared with the portable oxygen-tank. I better wash these scratches, just in case. So some demons want Sam to lead them in what? I don't get this?"

"A war," Ellen said. "A war to end the world as we know it."

"Sam's our reluctant leader," Ruby said. "What you just witnessed, and what only surfaces when Dean is in danger is the Sam we are waiting for. The one to help us win this war."

"You make it sound like some heroic act! Sam will become a killer, no doubt about it." Ellen remarked.

Dean looked up when Ellen spoke, hearing the fear in the voice. "It's not Sam's goddamned fault, now is it?" he wheezed, his knee screaming at him to get his weight off it. He slumped down to sit up against the wall, his hand grabbing the fabric of Sam's shirt, feeling the intense heat radiate off Sam's body. "Sam never asked for this crap, never wanted to go Gung-ho and lead some fucking twisted demon-army."

"I know," Ellen said, sinking to her knees and wetting a pad with holy water before she opened the buttons of Sam's shirt to reach the gashes on his chest. "I just wished somebody had told me all this."

""Why? To alert America's most wanted?"

"Dean!" Missouri warned, reaching for the bottle after having paced the canula under Sam's nose.

"Not that simple Ellen, I don't think even Sam knows all he's -." Bobby started but trailed off as Sam coughed again.

"That's right Sammy," Dean urged, leaning in closer. "Time to stop napping, told you so! C'mon dude, rise and shine!"

Sam's eyelids flickered before they opened to a crack.

"You lazy bastard," Dean let out with a rush of air. "What you think this is? The remake of Sleeping Beauty? You expect me to fucking kiss you awake?"

Sam's eyes finally opened fully and he groaned when he tried to move.

Ruby stifled a giggle and Ellen cast Dean a reprimanding glance. Dean so didn't care about anything but Sam right now. "Woah, the freak is finally awake," Dean grinned, tugging at Sam's shirt.

Missouri sighed. "All the soap in the world won't fix this smart-assery, now will it? Now, Sam, I'm gonna give you something to ease the pain. Couldn't do it before you were alert. We need to lower that fever too, it's at a hundred and two. I'm putting you on a second antibiotic, sweetie. We're gonna beat this thing but you're gonna be awfully groggy from the meds Sam, you alright with that?"

"Yeah," Sam croaked, voice so low it was barely audible. "Just help me up, Dean, please!"

Dean noted that the puppy eyes were back, looking at him, glazed with fever.

"No way in hell, dude." Dean gruffed and tightened his hold on the shirt while Missouri emptied the syringe in the IV-port. "You take the juice and shut up."

"I killed her, Dean, didn't I?" Sam's hot hand came up to grip his arm.

Dean blinked twice at the unexpected question, watching Sam fight for composure with his face white and signed by pain .

Missouri took the hint immediately. She rose to her feet and nudged Ruby's arm. "We better drag the, eh, remains out and pile them up. Long night ahead. C'mon Bobby, let's leave the boys alone for a while. The meds need to take effect before we can move Sam anyhow."

Ruby took a step forward, her eyes on Sam. Something soft and close to veneration in them and Dean glowered.

"Now!" Missouri barked.

There was instant movement following her words. Ruby turned and gripped the ankles of the dead girl and dragged her out through the door. Ellen and Missouri took the first of the heaps in the middle of the floor and Bobby dragged the second out. Dean watched with detachment, all his attention on Sam even without looking at him. He was not good at this talking stuff through, dammit. But the look in Sam's eyes when he asked about the girl didn't leave him alone. There was no way to push this under a rug and step over it.

"Meds working yet?" he asked looking at Sam's strained face and closed eyes.

.

"Yeah," Sam answered, face crunching up with pain when he let go off Dean's arm.

"Sure," Dean snorted and diverted his eyes back to the doorway when Ruby re-appeared, followed by the rest of the impromptu undertakers.

When the last corpse was on its way out, and Bobby had taped cardboard over the broken window, Missouri took one last long look at them and closed the door behind her.

"Sammy, you asleep?" Dean moved closer, stretching out his leg, letting it rest up against Sam's side. He was still burning with fever.

Sam didn't say anything and Dean did what he hadn't done since Sammy was a wee little wee pain in the ass. Shivers and snot and blood and all that was Sam in pain. He draped his arms around the shoulders and pulled Sam up to sit while he slid to sit behind him, pulling his freakishly big little brother to lean on him. The tube from the oxygen-tank got tangled up around his left leg, ripping the tape off Sam's face and falling to the floor. He cursed it when he closed the tank and untangled it from around his foot. Right now he didn't want to fight technology, he just needed to hold onto his brother. Sam's head rested against Dean's shoulder, body limp and heavy. Nothing mattered but the fact that Sam was still breathing.

"I'm gonna get you for this, you bitch," Dean told him. "Because damn, this time I'm really gonna have a Hallmark moment with you, right here. Because I'm an awesome brother and you're a stubborn ass. I'm fucking hugging you, dude! And you're so gonna talk about this, bro. No piling it all up inside, Sammy. Talk to me. She was possessed Sammy, she'da ripped your eyes out if you let her. You did what you had to do."

"I appreciate you pulling up the girl in you, Dean. But I have nothing to say. 'Cept that I'm sorry, Dean, I really am." Sam was out of breath and moved uneasily in his hold, but was too exhausted to do anything but sink back into Dean's hold.

"Sammy, the girl would have died any which way you turned."

"You don't know that! An' I'm sorry for getting you hurt, sorry for failing you, sorry 'bout a lotta things." Sam spoke raggedly, trembling in Dean's hold.

"Yeah, I do. And I know she looked like Jess but that was their intention. They wanted you to lose it, they picked her out just because they knew she'd get to you. Sam, I watched you, you did everything you could to save her."

The trembling increased to full-body shivers when Sam finally spoke. "I broke her neck, Dean. No way around that. I killed her, end of story. I seem to kill everyone around me."

His brother's voice was so defeated that Dean closed his eyes to escape the pained expression on Sam's face. "She was possessed, Sammy," he repeated, hoping to get through the darkness that seemed to have his brother in its hold.

"I don't think I can go on doing this, Dean." Sam whispered in a voice rasp with fatigue. "It's like we're prisoners of this unholy war." Sam tilted his head back and Dean opened his eyes. The expression of bottomless despair and exhaustion in the dark gaze had Dean scared. His brother was so broken, shattered for a million reasons and Dean had no idea how to fix it.

"I can't save you, the one person I need to save, but killing is getting easier and easier. Dean, I think I've become that thing Dad told you to kill."

Sam's voice was void of hope and it kicked Dean right in his guts.

"That's it dude, chick moment over. This is how far I go. Of courses you can do this. Don't be such a girl and cry all over me, Sam. Didn't you learn anything from your awesome brother? You never cry or quit."

"Remember that time when we were kids and watched Bambi?"

"Huh?"

"You cried, Dean."

"The fuck I did. I told you I got something in my eyes." He just couldn't believe that Sammy remembered that, he'd been like five years old at the time.

"Right." Sam moved awkwardly to get up into a sitting position, his breathing pained a d labored.

"You're a pain in the ass, Sammy, you know that dont'cha?" Dean went for the canula to aid Sam with his breathing but Sam pushed his hand away.

"Just help me up, Dean, please. This floor is hard!"

Puppy eyes begged him and Dean rose to his feet to aid Sam up, against his better judgment. "I should really go get Missouri, she loves to baby you. Can't wait for the day you're off the protein drinks and she'll start spoon feeding you." He draped his arm around Sam's middle and held on while his brother fought to get to his feet, never minding his throbbing knee. Somehow he instinctively knew that Sam needed to do this. Needed to walk to the gurney and prove himself capable to start fixing what was broken inside of him.

When Sam finally stood swaying at his side, Dean grabbed the IV-stand for support and they made their way to the gurney, very slowly, while Dean kept up a monologue to keep Sam's mind off all the killing, and what Sam feared the most; having to do it all alone. When they reached the gurney, Dean was almost carrying Sam and he simply let Sam slide onto the stretcher. Sam was wet with sweat, too wiped out to move and Dean had to lift up his legs and pull the orange quilts over him.

Then he went for the oxygen-tank and hooked Sam up.

He waited until Sam's breath had settled and the shivering had eased off.

"Sam, I so did not cry!" He reached out to lay his hand on Sam's good shoulder.

"So did," Sam mumbled in reply, his eyes already closing.

"Tell anybody and I'll smack you a good one, bitch!"

"Get some sleep, jerk."

Dean smiled, heart aching in his chest when he watched Sam bury his head in the pillow like he did when he was a kid. Some things never changed, and Sam was still Sam deep under that hardened shell.

How was he supposed to leave him all alone in this?

The door opened behind him and he turned around, his game-face back on while something inside tore his heart to pieces.

Missouri came up to him, folded her arm around his middle, steadying him. Then she reached to put the oximeter's sensor on Sam's middle finger. Accompanied by the soft beeps, she dragged Dean to the bunk to sit down. She didn't say anything, just held onto him with calm presence and Dean was too tired to fight any longer. He felt hot tears run down his cheeks.

He cried soundlessly. Sam was the one who was easily moved to tears, he seemed to have lost that along the way. Dean shed the tears Sam had learned to deny and suppress. Released all the pain that Sam had started to harbor inside to spare his hell-bound brother, cried over the changes in his little brother, the desperation and defeat he could read in the eyes when Sammy let his guard down. The pain he'd sensed coursing through Sam's body when he'd touched him. And the fact that he'd be leaving his brother alone in all this. Dean hated himself for being so weak that he had to bring Sam back, only to leave him alone; the ultimate betrayal.

He cried for Sammy; prisoner of war.

-fin-