Disclaimer: To my everlasting despair, I own nothing related to Supernatural.

TASTE OF BLOOD

By: Vanessa Sgroi

It was the excited chittering that woke him. He shifted uneasily, crisped brown leaves crinkling at his tentative movements. Dean tried to rise, failed spectacularly, the ground welcoming him not-so-gently. Blood, in all its viscous stickiness, matted his hair and trickled down his temple, across his cheek, then bridged his lips. On a low moan, Dean's tongue darted out, tasted the bitter iron along with musty, moldy earth.

The sound above him grew more frantic and Dean froze. A late attempt at playing dead, though, proved useless as claws gripped the hunter's sides, flipped him onto his back. Needle-sharp points pierced his sides along the ribs as the Chasm Demon pinned Dean in place. A guttural scream made its way past gritted teeth. Dean's back arched off the ground, taut with agony.

A nightmare of gray skin, horns, and sunken red eyes hovered above him. "Benny!" he yelled breathlessly. "Cas!" Another name raced to the fore then paused on the tip of his tongue, retreating before utterance. It had no place here.

The Chasm Demon bent over him, its red eyes glowing with evil and hate. The chittering slowed to a stop. It leaned closer, the perma-grin filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth filling Dean's field of vision; the stench of brimstone wafting forth from its abysmal depths. The creature sniffed deeply, nostrils quivering and flaring. Without warning, its tongue shot out, licking Dean's face, tasting the coating of blood painted there. Its eyes glowed brighter and it tightened its hold.

Dean bucked beneath the inhuman grip, heels drumming against the loamy earth. The claws retracted with a squelch, the demon rocking back on its hooves, tail planted on the ground for balance. Dean lay panting, fighting to focus on the atrocity perched over him. Three melded to one, divided to four, merged back to two and steadied somewhat.

A sickly gray claw dropped on his belly. Dean squirmed, struggling to free himself from beneath the weight but it was no use. Nightmare suddenly blended with reality as a talon pressed down hard splitting skin. The hunter's vision tunneled before he jumped headlong into oblivion.

SPN * SPN * SPN * SPN

Heart thundering in his chest from his sprint, Sam skidded to a halt and ducked behind a half-downed tree. Zeroing in on his prey, Sam raised the bow and arrow, sucked in a shallow breath and held it for a beat, steadying himself. He counted slowly, ignoring Dean's cries for anyone and everyone but him. He wouldn't—couldn't—think about that now. He let the arrow fly, watched it hit the demon true just as the monster dipped its head to sink its jaws into Dean's belly to feast upon its favorite food. The inhuman scream died quickly as the Chasm Demon burst into unholy flame, the blessed olive branch arrow having done its work.

Discarding the bow, Sam raced to his brother, dropping to his knees, and gathering the wounded man into his arms. "It's okay, Dean. I got it—I got it. It's gonna—you're gonna—be okay." Hands working by rote, the younger Winchester examined and assessed wounds. Meanwhile, the nightmare horror that had just played out before his eyes looped through his mind, leaving Sam's breath stuttering in and out of his lungs.

Dean moaned, eyes fluttering.

"It's okay, Dean. I've got ya."

"B'nny?"

Sam swallowed his disappointment. "No—it's Sammy."

"S'm? N-no, y-you can't be here. N-not here. Not in m-my n-n-nightmares…"

Sam pulled his brother closer. "It wasn't a nightmare." Sam rose, drawing Dean to his feet, anchoring him to his side. "Let's get you home."

FIN