Come For You

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, Nickelback or Scott Stapp's songs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: This is set after the episode "The Werther Project". It's blatant Dean hurt/comfort with a thin plot because that's the mood I'm in. It's also serves as my opening to slip in some songs I think fit Supernatural's current themes to a "T".

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Chapter One: Stuck

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He was going nowhere. That's what Dean's struggling and agony have summed up for him. He wasn't playing his own hero this time, not with the rebar skewering him through his back and peeking out of his side just under his left ribs. Of course it had to be rebar that was still an immovable part of the derelict warehouse's wall.

He wasn't sure if the vamp's luck was just that good to throw him the right way to land here…or his own luck was just that awesomely bad. Luck, good or bad, didn't change the cold hard facts that he wasn't getting himself free. Course that might not be a problem considering the vamp was coming at him and it wasn't to make him a convert. No, not when he was the one to wipe out her nest.

Vamps and their friggin' loyalty.

Loyalty which apparently trumped hunter loyalty because Michele had been one of those before she got fitted for her second row of sharp teeth. It was a sick joke that the dark haired, Hispanic woman was stunning, even with her new dental implants, and Dean would have so hit on her the last hunt they did together…if Dom, her muscle bound boyfriend hunter, wasn't in the picture. The same Dom who had led him right into this trap and sidelined Sam to stay with him. 'If that steroid menance touches Sam….' he internally snarled before he realized that Michele was about to reach him in her next two steps. "Come on, Michele, you're still in there, still know right from wrong," he said, hoping he wasn't wrong.

As she leaned down over him, her long brown hair curtained her face but did nothing to soften the threat that her exposed fangs brought across loud and clear.

Having lost his knife and gun in the scuffle that came before, Dean sent his hands blindly on the floor around him, searching for a weapon, came up with a handful of dust and dirt, which he promptly threw into her face, and yeah, vamps weren't immune to eye irritation. She stumbled back with an enraged cry of pain as she held her eyes.

As much as Dean wanted to do something useful with the reprieve he had achieved, he couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't locate anything lethal for a weapon and didn't have some magical chant to stop a vamp. If felt so wrong that he was actually wishing he was dealing with a hell spawn, something that a few mutterings of Latin could send packing.

Instead, he was down to using his words, which hadn't gotten him jack so far. "Fine, you kill me but how long do you think it'll be before Dom starts to look like BBQ ribs to you, huh? You think this is a diet you get to go on and off of like the friggin' Atkins! What about when you cross another vampire nest and they invite you into their clan… only catch is…you have to kill your human boytoy?! Does Dom mean that little to you! Because I was there, I saw the way you flipped out when we did that last hunt and you thought he was dead."

Angrily wiping the last dust from her eyes, Michele snarled at Dean, "Dom didn't kill my nest, you did! I could smell you all over their bodies."

"Ok…gross," Dean mumbled with a look of repulsion. "But we're talking about you, your actions. Dom's still with you, loves you enough to throw me under the bus to give you what you want. You don't have to live by some vampire code of ethics, I know, I had a friend who drank blood bags and valued human life, valued my life." Dean's thoughts of Benny hurt him as much as they brought a wave of gratitude for having met the vampire, having his belief about vampires being proven wrong. Found that he was glad for the Werther box's mojo just for the opportunity to see his friend again, even if it wasn't real.

"I value Dom's life," Michele heatedly declared. "I would never hurt him. Never."

Dean's lips twisted into a bitter gesture. "Never….like you'd never become one of the things you hunt? Like you'd never take an innocent human life? You'd never turn into something like what killed your sister?"

The next breath, Michele's vampire finger nails where sinking into Dean's neck as her hand closed around his throat. "Don't talk about my sister. EVER!"

"Rosie, right?" Dean wheezed out around the pressure in his windpipe, pretty sure his hands wrapped around her wrist, impeding her grip, was the only reason he was able to still draw in any breath at all. "She was fed on by Vetalas for days until she was finally lucky enough to die. Killed by a blood sucker, not so unlike what you are now." Though he saw the punch coming, Dean didn't try to deflect it, let it snap his head to the right, felt the taste of blood on his lips.

Realizing that, for Dean Winchester, her punch was like a love tap compared to his pain tolerance level, Michele upped her game and dropped her free hand onto his chest, gave a sultry smile as she ran her hand down his chest…to the rebar. And then she viciously jerked the metal protruding from his side to the right.

Dean yelled in agony as it felt like Michele was ripping the rebar across his gut. Suddenly his early desire to "just" be up against hell spawn took a bad turn, because the hell spawn making an appearance could easily turn out to be him if Michele did her worst, if he died in this warehouse.

And, as terrifying as the prospect of going darkside once more was, what was worse was knowing Sam would try to save him again, that he might kill his brother this time. Or, like that fake Benny had claimed, if Sam or Cas did the right thing and put him down, would it wreck them? Would he be the camel that broke the back after everything Sam and Cas had been through, would he ruin them once and for all?

He couldn't take that chance, wouldn't put that on them. No, he had to stay undemonfied, not for himself, but for his brother, for his best friend. And that meant he had to stay alive, had to survive whatever Michele did to him. That resolve had Dean doing something he rarely, did: plead for mercy.

"Please Michele, don't," he choked out, loosening one of his hands from her wrist to find the hand she had coiled around the rebar, tried to stop her from shifting the metal more, doing further damage. "You want me to say I'm sorry for killing your nest, Ok. I'm sorry. And I'll take vampires off our hit list. Won't hunt you or your kind. Just don't kill me."

Chuckling darkly, Michele smiled and showed her perfect, white human teeth. "Dean Winchester begging for his life. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, well….today's the day then." Though it griped Dean to do it, make him sick inside to lower himself to pleading, to near groveling but more was at stake than his pride…than even his life or his soul. Sam's life, Sam's soul was on the line, especially if his brother resorted to dark tactics to try and get him back human again if he turned. And for Sam…Dean would do a lot worse than begging for his life.

"Please just let me go. Walk away, don't do something that'll put even more of a barrier between you and Dom. He's a hunter for a reason too, you know that. Because he hates what killed his friend in high school. But he's doing his best to not let what you are change how he feels about you but if you start killing hunters….he might not be able to stop wondering when you'll turn on him."

"Dom trusts me, loves me even for what I am now," Michele insisted but Dean could read the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

"And you love him for what he is: a good man. A man who helps people, protects people from things they don't know even exist. But if you make him your accomplice, if you kill me and he knows he helped you do it by sending me here, sidelining Sam with him, it'll change him, how he feels about himself…and you."

"Well aren't you Mr. Good Will Hunting," Michcle snorted before leaning close to Dean, her eyes holding his as she dropped her voice, conspiringly letting him in on a secret. "Problem with your theory is….Dom's the one who thought of this set up: you with me, Sam with him. This building, this out of the way location. Even helped set up a patsy to take the fall for your death so Sammy won't track me down for revenge. Dom's ideas, all of them. So tell me again how I'm going to lose his love….because to me, he's proven that he'll never leave me, that when the time's right, I'll turn him and we'll have forever together."

Suddenly anger whitewashed Dean's resolve to not get killed. When he smiled, his teeth were bloody from the split lip from her early punch and his eyes were that cold dark that even his black eyed look didn't have much over when it came to menacing. "You do your worst but that picket fence, blood for Sunday brunch, Super Bowl parties with dead guests by half time scenario you got going in your head….Never. Happening. You'll be in Purgatory running for your life long before you pick out blood splattered dinnerware for the ole homestead. That I promise you."

"Big bad Dean Winchester, finally making threats. Now that's how I saw this playing out. I'll tell Sam you went down like you lived: like a big frigging hero." Then she showed her fangs, was about to dive in for the feast….when a sound from the ground level above them brought her up short, had her and her hostage looking to the ceiling.

When the voices filtered down to them, they weren't Sam or Dom's but unfamiliar voices, young teenage voices. A moment later, there was the rhythmic bounce of a ball on the floor above. Kids congregating there to play some game…basketball, Dean surmised, remembered seeing the strange sight of the basketball net on one of the warehouse walls.

Dean's blood ran cold at the sudden recognition that it wasn't just his life in jeopardy, that some kids had unknowingly stepped into the drama unfolding twelve feet under them. Eyes shooting to Michele's, Dean implored, "They aren't part of this. Tell me you have enough human decency left in your soul to not hurt them!"

Pulling back from Dean, Michele smirked, "It's your fault, really. I didn't expect to work up such an appetite taking you down." Then her features darkened into a predatory expression. "I'm famished."

Even as Dean thought about screaming "Run!" or "Fire! Get out!" at the ceiling in some vain hope to get the kids to hightail it from the warehouse, the kids above turned on music and it saturated the air.

"Just one more moment, that's all that's needed,
Like wounded soldiers in need of healing
Time to be honest, this time I'm pleading,
Please don't dwell on it, 'cause I didn't mean it"

"They're friggin' kids , Michele!" Dean screamed at the ex-hunter but she purred back, "And their blood will be ssssoooo tasty. It's the best …if you can get it. Be right back…" then she winked at him and started up the stairs.

Gritting his teeth against the scream that wanted to tear from his throat, Dean tried to push himself off the ground, had a vain spring of hope that Michele's shifting of the rebar would allow him to get free, that he could use his own blood and guts to grease the steel. Even under the crescendo of agony, the whiting out his vision, he still recognized that he wasn't gaining even an inch off the ground.

Sagging back against the ground, raggedly drawing in breath, his vision nearly closing in on him, he strained to hear what was going on above him, but at that moment, all he could hear was the song's continuing lyrics.

"I was blindfolded, but now I'm seeing,
My mind was closing, now I'm believing
I finally know just what it means to let someone in,
To see the side of me that no one does, or ever will
So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone,
I'd search forever just to bring you home,
Here and now, this I vow"

Whatever the chorus was, Dean didn't hear it, not above the shouting, the pounding of running footsteps, the thud of bodies hitting the floor…and not getting back up again. Dean gave a shout of rage and frustration, knew those kids were dead and it was partly his fault.

He almost startled when Michele called down the warehouse stairs in a voice like a good wifey telling hubby the dinner's almost ready. "Be back soon. I'll just going to do a little house cleaning. Don't get too lonely."

Dean covered his eyes with a trembling, bloody stained hand. What had he told Sam…that he was so tired of doing the wrong thing. And here he was again, doing the wrong thing, allowing the wrong people to get killed. He had gone to Tulsa on his own to "take the edge off the Mark," to kill something, something that wasn't his brother. Had purposely waited until Sam was out of the bunker before he hit the road, wanted to do it solo, to take all the kills himself, to revel in the violence, in the bloodletting. "I'm no better than her," he berated hoarsely to the empty basement. And he faced it all over again, that he needed to be stopped, to be put down, that, best scenario would be him dying down there, all alone and staying dead. Best for Sam, for Cas…for everybody really.

Trouble was…he didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave Sam. Didn't want to cash things in and for it to be over. To be sent to Hell or Purgatory or to just not exist. He still wanted to live…and Sam wanted him to live. He knew that now, had seen the deep hurt flash in his brother's eyes when he doubted that.

But Sam's hurt…it didn't whitewash Dean's own. Dean didn't think he would ever get Sam's words out of his head, remembered Sam's comeback when he had challenged his little brother about doing the same thing to save him, taking any and all risks to see that his brother stayed alive.

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"If this situation was reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing." Dean had been so certain of what Sam's answer would be. 'You'd betray me to save me, Sam. Would get an angel …or someone in Crowley or Ruby's demongraphic to save my life, like you had tried to do before when I got dragged to hell.'

But Sam's answer hadn't been any of that. "No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances…I wouldn't."

And Dean wanted to call Sam a liar but he couldn't, Sam's earnest expression wouldn't let him. Said more than Sam's denial ever could. And after that, there had been nothing left to say, that Dean could say, Sam had said more than Dean had ever needed to hear.

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Now, nearly a year later, Dean had yet to repair the part of his heart that had shattered at his brother's denial of their brotherhood, of the love between them that Dean hadn't thought could be snatched away by his actions born out of that same love. It was why he snapped at Sam when he got all drama queen about the very real possibility of the Mark coming out on top, made some declaration about how he couldn't lose him.

Dean couldn't stand there and let his brother lie to his face. Refused to fall for the caring brother façade Sam only adopted to feel better about himself. Course Sam had denied it…said he didn't mean it: His hurtful words, his declaration to not save him.

'Was that the truth or was what Sam said a year ago the truth?' Suddenly Dean didn't know what to believe, didn't want to be weak and just pick the scenario he wanted his brother to feel. 'Course, if you can't get out of here before Twilight fang girl comes back, it won't matter,' he groused at himself, wishing his phone battery hadn't up and died on him. A battery he just charged last night….in plain sight of Dom. 'Who probably ripped out the battery and sent me on my merry way today with no possible cell service.'

Yeah, their trap was air tight and he strolled into it, friggin' whistling. Sure, he and Sam had been game to help Michele and Dom take down some Vetalas, because everyone (except Sam) knew that Vetalas traveled in pairs, could easily take down even an experienced pair of hunters. And sure, he'd agreed to hook up (not literally, darn it) with Michele to scout out the scene where a body had been found while Sam and Dom narrowed down the search with his brother's trusty laptop back at the motel. Nothing out of the ordinary, smart planning even, not much risk…unless he did what Sam told him not to before he left the motel ("Dean, don't hit on Michele because I so don't want to have to watch Dom kick in your teeth").

But that had all gone out of the window two minutes into meeting up with Michele in the basement of the warehouse. At first it was just his gut screaming at him 'danger,danger,danger' and the weird way Michele didn't approach him when he came down the stairs, instead paced the dark end of the floor. And then, when she crossed the room, there was something in the way she moved, something changed from before, something predatory.

And he had been a hunter long enough, had been fooled too often to not trust his instincts so he had started to reach for the gun at his waist but she was quicker, had her .45 Colt aimed at his head, cocked. He had tried placating, "Hey, whoa. Good guy, hunter, same side, ok. I don't know what's got you freaked but we're not after a shapeshifter or a ….."

There she had cut him off. Incensed, she shouted, "You killed them all!" stepping closer to Dean, her gun nearly pressed against his breastbone.

For a long moment, Dean didn't have a comeback. He had killed so many people…so many things lately, he didn't know where to even begin with the guessing. "Ok, maybe I did," he lowly countered, could see by her raised eyebrows that she hadn't expected the near confession.

She gave a bitter snort. "You stupid SOB, you don't even know who I'm talking about, do you?!"

She had him there. "Aahhhhh…nope." Better to go with the truth before he dug himself into a grave he maybe didn't deserve in this instance.

Michele shook her head, sending her long hair twirling. "Well, then let me show you." With something akin to pride, she bared her vampire teeth, let her hunger for blood show in her eyes, in the heady way she inhaled his scent.

"Oh crap," Dean muttered, part of him upset that one of their hunter numbers had been turned and another part of him pretty certain now who he had wasted that pissed her off. "Let me guess, you're new frenemies had a place in Tulsa." He should have predicted that his running off to do that vamp hunt without Sam would have far reaching consequences, first there was Sam getting pissy and not wanting him to join him on the suicide house hunt and now there was this new development.

After that, there hadn't much talking, just Michele ready to go all-you-can-eat-buffet on him, him hoping to knock a few of her new teeth loose as he slammed his gun barrel across her face. That had gotten him out of her clutches for like…ten seconds. Then she was on him, decided that he needed to take a flying leap. A leap that had ended with him skewered and helplessly immobile. That pretty much got them to where their story picked up now.

"Least she coulda done is turn the friggin' music down!" Dean grumbled as the walls seemed to shake under the assault of the beat of the song.

'Please don't dwell on it, 'cause I didn't mean it
I can't believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground,
But it doesn't matter 'cause I made it up, forgive me now
Everyday I spend away, my soul's inside out,
Gotta be some way that I can make it up to you now, somehow'

Hearing the lyrics, Dean groaned. "And it has to be some moody song like Sam would download." His thoughts drawn to his brother again, but not on the words said between them a year ago or two weeks ago but the words they didn't say, that he didn't say. 'Like sorry for turning into a demon and almost taking your head off with a hammer, sorry for making you get beat up by Cole and lead Lester to a crossroad deal trying to defend my actions, right my wrongs.' That what he had said in that bunker dungeon when he was all black eyes, he hadn't meant, at all. That Sam hadn't been at fault for their mother's death, their father's death, that Sam hadn't sucked the life out of his life…Sam had instead made his life worth living, every day, every time he smiled at one of his jokes, every time he saved his life on a hunt, every time he forgave him, every time he came back to him, every time he got in the Impala at his side.

"Boy, I blew it, Sam. I had all the chances in the world to tell you all that and instead I bellyached about the past, seemed to forget all you've done for me now, how you saved me, darkened your own soul to save mine. Last year I actually had the right idea, leaving, keeping you away from me, making sure you didn't suffer, any more than you already had, for my piss poor decisions, decisions that continued and still continue to get people dead." Like those kids upstairs, the ones Michele was off sucking dry of blood and then going to bury deep in the nearby forest.

'Then she'll come back and finish me off…well, mortal me. Demon me, he'll come out to play then.' Had only a sliver of optimism that he needed the First Blade to be resurrected, didn't quite trust his luck that far. Not when he had glimpsed the black overtaking his green eyes in the mirror on far too many occasions to just be his imagination. 'No, it'll be like throwing a switch, human Dean will go adios and demon Dean will take back center stage.' His analogy made him cringe because, seriously, karaoke?! That was demon him's best outlet for his badness?! Come on! That was just a hair better than miming.

Again Dean tried to shift off the ground, to get the rebar to play nice and let him go. But it was a study of futility. Trying to lever himself off the bar just ended up with him slumping over, nearly blacking out. (No pun intended.) It was hopeless.

And the friggin' song must have gotten knocked onto repeat because it was going on and on.

'So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone,
I'd search forever just to bring you home,
Here and now, this I vow
You know I'd always come for you'

Those words struck a chord in Dean, reminded him of Sam, of his brother's diehard loyalty and tenacity to save him. Dean felt his eyes sting with tears he wouldn't shed. It was wrong that the next part of the song hit him even harder.

No matter what gets in my way
As long as there's still life in me
No matter what, remember
You know I'd always come for you

And I'd fight for you,
I'd lie, it's true
Give my life for you,
You know I'd always come for you

And Dean knew Sam would come for him if he knew he was in danger, if he knew what Michele was. That, no matter what Sam had said before, he would always strive to save him. Sam was too good to do otherwise. 'Loves you too much to lose you, you idiot,' a voice said in his head that sounded a lot like Sam's. And when the lyrics rolled around again, he knew Sam could have written them…had said as much.

'Please don't dwell on it, 'cause I didn't mean it
I can't believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground,
But it doesn't matter 'cause I made it up, forgive me now
Everyday I spend away, my soul's inside out,
Gotta be some way that I can make it up to you now, somehow.'***

And his conversation with Sam played again in Dean's head.

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"I can't lose you!" Sam had emphatically declared only for Dean to cockily challenge, "Really? You change your mind on that 'cause that's not what you said last time."

Hurt overtook Sam's features. "You know I didn't mean it!"

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Sam. Didn't. Mean. It.

He never had. His brother would always come for him. Same circumstances…different circumstances..it didn't matter. Sam loved him and didn't want him gone….or off being a demon.

'Yeah, so what are you doing about that, huh? Check out or fight until Sam comes for you, rescues your stupid behind?' It was time to put up or shut up. He had told Sam and Charlie that he would fight as long as he could, that couldn't just mean fighting the Mark's influence, had to mean that he'd cling to this life, do all he could to not die.

And right then and there that added up to not letting some hunter-turned-vampire chick rip his throat out. That meant putting up the fight of his life when she came for him, to hold her off until the inevitable happened: Sam came storming in to save him like the big friggin' hero that he was.

But Dean's resolve faltered when he heard the creak of a door open and footsteps overhead, felt it crumble when Michele announced her return as she came down the stairs with a "Funny thing is, Dom was always afraid that you and I would hook up…" then she was on the basement level, was walking toward him when she continued, "guess that's why he jumped at the chance to help me kill you."

Dean offered up one of his cocky half smiles. "I'd be a lair if I said the thought of you and I never crossed my mind. But now…I don't really like biters."

"Oh baby, that's before you've experienced my bite," she drawled with a twisted mix of sultry and deadly.

Dean tried not to show fear as she straddled him, settled on his lap like she was his summer crush. He grabbed her wrists to halt her attempt to touch him, seemingly to run her hands though his hair. "Maybe I'm saying it too nice. Save your scanky love for Dom..he apparently has no standards."

Instead of anger, Michele gave a low chuckle of amusement. "Dean, honey, scanky love is the only love you've ever been able to generate." Ripping her wrists from his grip, she caught his chin in her left hand, forced his head up so their eyes met. "Because real love…you destroy that like the jealous jerk you are. That's why you savor killing, ripping apart families and turning love into ash."

"Families?!" Dean was now the one giving a dark chuckle. "You mean those vamps back in Tulsa." His eyes darkened as he bit out, "Bet your sister Rosie is rolling in her grave right now, knowing that you've switched up getting revenge for her to bemoaning some dicks with fangs that turned you into their blood junkie and told you same bed time story about how they'll care for you." He let his merciless smile emerge. "Get the memo: your new "family"….they won't be throwing you b-day parties cause I ganked them. With prejudice. And, I have to tell you, they went down easy. Makes me wonder if you and Dom even tried to take them down or did you just knock on their nest door and ask if they had half a cup of blood you could have for a recipe."

For that insinuation, he got a right cross to the jaw. "Dom and I went in there to kill them and things went wrong!"

"What, Dom didn't get turned too? I gotta say, he'd make an ugly vamp. He's already got that high forehead and those little eyes." She didn't allow him to finish, delivered a punch to his gut that jarred the rebar.

Slumping forward, gasping for breath amid his agony, Dean couldn't even care that he was leaning against Michele, that his forehead was resting on her collarbone.

"Poor Dean, that hurt?" she taunted, pulling Dean more firmly against her as she wrapped her hand around the base of his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. Whispered by his ear, "Now I'm a little torn between killing you and turning you. Turn you..turn Dom…then all three of us can go after Sam, turn him..or kill him."

Fear sent adrenaline through Dean, gave him the strength to roughly shove Michele away before he slumped back against the wall. "Sam's not a part of this. He wasn't even there when I took out your buddies. I did it alone!"

"Oh, I know. Your scent was all over their bodies and Sam's wasn't. But you don't seem to be grasping how much it hurts to lose your family, the ones you know you belong with forever. If I kill Sam, I think it'll be clear to you."

And Dean knew that clarity already, had lost Sam before, had nearly lost him just last year to the trails. He sure wasn't going to let Michele go after his brother. Made a vow right then and there that she wasn't walking out of the warehouse, wasn't getting her fangs into Sam, and it didn't matter if keeping that vow cost him his life and soul. His brother was worth losing everything. Even his soul to the Mark.

"You really think some vampire bond can ever top my loyalty to my brother?!" He smugly challenged, ready and willing to help Michele make her mind up on whether to kill him and end this revenge trip or turn him and go after Sam. "Seemed to me your loyalty to Dom didn't go by the wayside just because you tapped out of the human race. And, let me tell you, you like Dom about 10…ok 20 percent as much as I like my brother. So my first order of business as a vamp won't be to kiss your ring…it'll be to protect my brother by ripping your head off your shoulders." His eyes drilled into her surprised gaze, "So go ahead, turn me. I dare you."

Shaking off the chill of Dean's prophetic statement, Michele adopted a confident smirk. "Got it. Better to kill you now then I'll kill Sam." Tried to not let the malicious glint in Dean's gaze at her threat rattle her.

"You kill me, I might just let that go. But you go after Sam…that I'll take personally," Dean drawled, hoped the rumors of his propensity of coming back from the dead kept her from going after Sam. Had no real confidence that demon him would go the protective route, would even care if Michele followed through with her threat and killed Sam after killing him.

"Consider this my way of taking things personal," she snarled, her vampire teeth dropping down into place as she grabbed Dean's chin and twisted his face to the left to give her good access to the veins in his jugular pulsating with life sustaining blood.

Bracing himself for the pain of fangs sinking into his throat, Dean startled at the ringing of Michele's cell phone. He drew in a shaking breath of uncertainty as the moment stretched and teeth still didn't pierce his flesh.

With a curse, Michele shoved herself to her feet, paced back from Dean and took the phone call. "Dom, babe, your timing's messed up, as usual."

But it wasn't Dom's voice that filtered through the cell phone's speakers.

"That better mean that my brother's alive or else I'll slit Dom's throat right here and now," Sam acidly threatened.

For the first time, Michele understood that the affable Sam Winchester that she was so used to interacting with was a façade, that the real Sam Winchester was on the phone with her now, would have no qualms about killing Dom, would do murder and a lot more for the sake of his brother. That Dean might have unknowingly killed her nest but Sam would make it his life's work to track her down and kill her and everyone she loved. That whatever game of revenge she had thought she was playing at had now been turned into a fight for survival.

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TBC

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***The song in this chapter "I'd Come for You" belongs to Nickelback. I've been thinking how it so fits the season so well and then Sam went and said "I didn't mean it" and I just couldn't pass up that opportunity to put this song into a story. Cheesy I know but I'm cheesy so it fits my style. And if you hate the story, just go listen to the song and my mission will be accomplished.

Thanks for reading! And reviews will inspire me to get the next chapter done!

Happy Mother's Day!

And to all the rest of my readers…have a great day!

Cheryl W.