warning: may cause tears.
suggestion: reread chapter ten to set the pace. this picks up immediately where ten left off.
A/N: I totally neglected every ounce of homework and responsibility of the day last night to complete this chapter; because I am so not going to wait any longer than this to update. I really liked this chapter to begin with but I'm a little iffy as of late. I'm so very sorry if it isn't up to standards, the following will most definitely!
fortune telling: as of now, there are three remaining chapter left to this. I'll let you guys know next update whether or not that will still stand, but I'm fairly certain it will. Hurray!
reviewers: if only virtual cookies really did exist.. you would totally get a dozen each.

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Then a wall crumbled, the door shattered, and the world began to crash.

Sam blinked just before the cement began to tumble forward. Time seemed to slow to an excruciatingly sluggish pace as dust began to furl beneath an uneven slab before the concrete even touched the ground. Then, as abruptly as they had formed, his senses were cut off and his knees were forced to his chest as his body was encircled by a familiar, rough, and gentle force, a shield that pressed him firmly to the wall.

And time suddenly caught up with the world.

Sam cringed at the booming sound that surrounded him and managed to detect the tightening of an arm around his back and the flurry of beats pressed securely against his ear. He couldn't help the overwhelming sense of failure that overtook him in that frightening instant any more than he could prevent the way his hands fisted his brother's shirt, if only to keep him from leaving again. Things were as far from a rescue as they could possibly be. Dean was barely holding on to consciousness and still continued his bravado and unwavering sense of duty that Sam would always unconditionally love and hate. He shut his eyes to avoid the nearly blinding density of dust that was rapidly filling the room. Something connected with the wall directly to his right and he could have sworn he felt Dean's limp fingers twitch against his arm but fail to move anymore. Dean released a small string of profanities somewhere above him and into his hair just as something solid slammed into Sam's unprotected side. He tensed, reflexes telling him to buck away from the pain, and couldn't contain a cry that undoubtedly went unheard in all the commotion of the crumbling room. Dean's good hand was suddenly entangled in his hair and his shoulders bowed to cover as much of Sam as possible. A rumble in his brother's chest sounded louder than it should have as he ground out something like an apology, but all Sam could do was grit his teeth and twist his face into Dean's shirt to escape the pain. Another crash had Dean tensing through his own pain.

Then there was silence.

Sam felt Dean tentatively raise his head from the top of his own just as the dust began to settle. Though the world's destruction took only seconds, for the Winchesters it went on for hours. Sam swayed a little at the sudden white pain in his side and unconsciously tightened his grip on the tattered fabric of Dean's shirt. Dean's hand was somehow at the crook of his neck and his eyes fixed on the foreign object protruding from his little brother's side, just below his ribs. Sam winced and ducked his head to see the source of his pain.

He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut to block the image of the six inch sliver of man-made rock stemming from his side. "Fuck," he wheezed, dropping his head back against Dean. At least it wasn't thick. Half an inch would do the trick if it got lucky enough though, he mused.

Dean's hand was clutching almost desperately at his back and unfurling Sam's legs away from his chest with his knees to shrug closer. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," his voice was suddenly in Sam's ear, trembling jaw pressed against his temple. "I'm sorry," he said again and again. His voice was broken, so painfully broken, and Sam's stomach churned at the thought of what caused it to shatter so brusquely.

"It's okay," he found himself whispering back, eyes closed as he unclenched his fists from Dean's front and surrounded his brother with his shaking arms. "I'm okay, Dean. It's okay."

"Not again," Dean dug closer to the crook of Sam's neck. Whether it was done consciously or not, Sam didn't know. "Not again," He repeated. "I won't fucking let it. Not again." He nearly growled the last bit but failed to relinquish his hold on Sam.

Sam remained silent for a fraction of a heartbeat. He had no idea what his brother was talking about, but he knew it hurt, and that tore a new hole in his heart. "God, Dean." He leaned into his brother a little more, ignoring the throb in his side. "What did they do to you?"

"Just gave him have a taste of the failure he knows is coming," a cool, harsh voice responded casually from somewhere over Dean's shoulder.

"NO!" Dean was wrenched from his grip and sent, feet dragging, to the adjacent wall as his own arms were forcefully pinned to the supporting surface behind him. Dean's eyes went unfocused, blinked, and connected with Sam's. He gave a pitiful tug on his invisible restraints, not even attempting to withhold his fear, and resigned himself to the bonds when the pain almost took his sight away. He refused to break contact with Sam's eyes that were filling fast as he was dragged almost lazily to his feet. Neither brother bothered to assess the damaging affects of the collapsed wall more than the rubble separating him from the other.

"I'm touched," the demon was suddenly stepping toward Sam, carefully avoiding rubble, "really I am." Dean's jaw twitched, but he managed to blink some reassurance into his gaze that he continued to keep with his brother. "But," the yellow eyed man continued, coming to a halt next to Sam and flashing him a smile, "this charade has got to end."

"NO!" Sam watched helplessly as Dean's eyes bulged and he released a single gasp before his breathing seemed to cease altogether. "STOP!" His mouth was agape, gulping for air that wouldn't come. "STOP!" Dean clenched his eyes shut but couldn't contain the tears that slipped from the corners and traveled slowly down his cheeks. "PLEASE!" His body began to struggle involuntarily against his restraints, desperate to claw at the hidden source that was restricting his air.

And Sam couldn't breathe anymore either. He blinked away tears and fought desperately against the force keeping him trapped against the wall. A sob caught in his throat and forced itself out in a barely coherent plea. "Dean..." He tugged harder, ignoring every ounce of pain, "DEAN!"

Dean's eyes opened just as his body began to sag. He blinked slowly in Sam's direction and couldn't hold back the free streaming tears of pain and sorrow that distorted his vision. Sam couldn't hide his sobs anymore than Dean could hide the spasms in his muscles or the gaping of his mouth. He was watching his brother die. "Please," he breathed, keeping his burning eyes fixed on his brother's. "Please." He was crying and he couldn't stop. "Please..."

Dean's chest hitched a final time. His slowly closing green eyes made a last, painful attempt to stay glued to Sam's before rolling to the back of his skull and ending his struggle. His head dropped.

"NO!" Sam screamed as the hole in his chest began shredding his insides just before a block the size of a door careened towards his immediate right. He flinched, unable to avoid the massive piece of stone as it connected with the body next to him. There was a deafening thud and a reverberating crash as it made its way down the wall and to the floor. Sam felt his bonds loosen, then sever altogether. He watched Dean slide silently to his side as he slammed into the harsh surface before he could catch himself. He scrambled to his feet, not even glancing to see the source of the object or the consequence of the blessing, stumbled over wreckage, and fell to his already throbbing knees next to his unmoving brother.

"Dean?" He paused as the blinding pain in his side caught up with him. He stared accusingly at the cement stake before gripping it by the end and wrenching it from his skin. He blanched, letting out a gasp for air before tipping in Dean's direction. He dropped the mangled piece of stone and reached for his brother with trembling hands. "Dean?" He slid a hand through his hair and tugged Dean's limp head off the ground by the back of his neck. He hung lose and unresponsive in his brother's hands. "Dean." Sam was shaking him softly, "Dean, come on." Dean's head lolled sadly from side to side, completely lifeless. "Dean, you gotta wake up," Tears were blurring his vision as Sam roughly shook his unresponsive brother. Still he refused to answer; refused to breathe. He considered CPR but knew his ribs couldn't handle it. It would only assure his death by suffocation. A collapsed lung was not an option. He choked on his voice and lifted Dean a little more, adjusting his legs to scoot closer. "Dean?" He choked on his brother's name. "Please, Please, Please..." He continuously muttered, finally tugging Dean close enough to rest his forehead against his brother's and cry. "DEAN!"

Dean suddenly gasped, chest expanding to swallow more air than his body could possibly contain. He struggled to retain the breath before falling into a fit of hacking coughs and rolling away from the elevated position he was being held at. Sam was sure he would have laughed with relief if he wasn't crying so hard. He gripped Dean gently by the back of the neck, used his other hand to support his weight, and tugged the struggling Winchester to a sitting position. He swayed. With his eyes still clenched tight to ward off the pain in his throat and ribs, he struggled through his breath-depriving cough and allowed himself to be pressed lightly against Sam's quaking form. Sam guided Dean's head to his shoulder and slid his arms around his back to grip weakly at his shirt and hair. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean's neck and resisted the sobs that refused to bend to his will.

Dean remained silent as his chest heaved to compensate for the loss of air and closed his eyes into Sam's shoulder. He felt Sam's shaking sobs but could barely breathe, let alone speak. His hand shook as he managed to lift it from the ground and rest it against Sam's lower back. He furled and unfurled his fingers in an attempt to comfort his sobbing sibling before his hand slid limply back to the floor. He couldn't even return the embrace. He swallowed and managed to barely whisper, "Sam?" He swallowed again, trying desperately to ignore the pain in his throat and terrible constriction in his chest.

"I thought –" Sam's voice broke at the sound of his brother's and he dug deeper into the comfort of Dean, alive in his arms, "I thought you were dead." He felt a lump lodge itself in his throat. "I thought you were dead," he repeated in a whisper.

Dean nodded softly and allowed his breathing to return to normal. "I'm not that easy... to get rid of, Sammy."

Sam laughed weakly and tightened his hold on Dean.

Something dislodging itself from the tangle of broken rubble had Sam turning Dean away from the source of the sound, his own protectiveness magnified by the idea of a new threat. He turned wearily as the image of a rugged woman staggered through the gaping wall; Meg. His heart rate quickened as she wiped blood from her bottom lip with a smile and turned to meet his widened eyes with soulless black orbs. "Hey, Sammy."

Dean's hand was gripping his wrist, failing miserably to tug him back in his weakened state. Instead he slid his grip to Sam's hand and intertwined their fingers. Sam squeezed once in response but kept his eyes fixed on the coming threat.

Meg began descending the mountain of wreckage, a bloody grin distorting her image. "Hi, Dean," she added. "How's the shoulder?"

Sam felt Dean tense before he returned the squeeze. He braced himself, preparing for what was to come.

Before she could take another step, the mass of cement pressed against the wall shook and hurled itself from the wall in Meg's direction. She stumbled, briefly startled, and reacted with a stern look and a wave of her hand that sent the concrete crashing through the gap in the wall. Her eyes traveled back to the empty space the yellow eyed demon had occupied half a second earlier before resting on Sam and snarling. He gripped his chest, helpless to contain the strangled cry of pain as he lost control of his senses and tipped back into the arms of his brother, rolling in agony. He was being torn open from the inside out. Dean's arm was holding him firmly against his chest, gripping his hand as tight as Sam was tearing at his chest, desperate to end the source of pain, when suddenly it was gone. He blinked in time to see another slab of rock hover feet away from the ground before whirling in Meg's direction, then change course and lurch towards them faster than they could hope to avoid. He flattened himself against Dean, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation, but nothing came. He heard a crash, two, a third, and somehow Dean was pulling Sam by the shoulder and limping determinedly toward the gaping exit. There was no sign of either demon aside from the audible crashes echoing through the fortified walls.

Dean stumbled over the jagged edges of stone before Sam managed to catch his fall and take charge, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist and pulling his limp arm across his shoulders. Dean grimaced but made no complaint as they scrambled down the other side and struggled toward a blessedly open door. If chaos and violence and random unpredictable evil existed, then surely acts of random unpredictable good were out there too. As Sam tightened his grip on Dean and started down the decimated hallway, alive and with his brother, he knew one couldn't exist without the other. And it was both a comforting and terribly foreboding thought; miracles were, after all, notoriously few and far between if they even existed at all.

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sad news: One Fateful Night is looking like its update wont be for a little while. hopefully that only means a couple of days though. I'm so on this and have an almost entrie week of freetime coming up and plan to use that to write, write, write!