Chapter 4: I owe every breath to you

When the headlights bounced across the front of the house, casting slivers of light through the cracks in the door frame, Sam felt his breath catch in the back of his throat. Watching the Sheriff and another man step out of the truck, was like watching a horror movie jump to life. Racing back to the kitchen, he caught his older brother's eyes as he rounded the corner. "Come on get up." He started, the panic in his voice hard to miss as he grabbed the other man by the arm and hoisted him up, ignoring the string of swears that followed the rather brisk movement.

Dean barely had the chance to react when Sam dragged him to his feet, not nearly as careful with him as he had been earlier. "Take it easy." He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the painful jolt in his shoulder spread like wildfire in all directions.

"They must have gone back for you and saw that you were gone..." Sam started, his eyes darting from left to right as he desperately scanned the room they were in for somewhere to hide. "Son of a bitch probably knows these roads like the back of his hands... knew that the house wasn't too far from the lake and saw the smoke in the chimney..."

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?" Dean asked, swearing under his breath as the younger man dragged him down the hall towards a set of stairs near the front of the house.

"The Sheriff, Dean." Sam growled, looking up at the rickety staircase in front of them. "Bobby isn't the one that just pulled up to the house, it's the damn Sheriff." He continued, taking a nervous glance back down the hall towards the kitchen.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Dean asked, watching as the younger man put a heavy foot down on the first step to see if it would be able to support his weight.

"Hide." Sam was quick to reply, slipping his arm out from under Dean and placing the other man's hand on the railing at the bottom of the stairs. "I want you to go upstairs and just find somewhere to hide."

"Dude, are you crazy?" Dean whispered, watching as Sam craned his neck to take another glance down the hall towards the back of the house. "This place is falling apart, I don't think these stairs are..."

"Just stay away from the middle on your way up and you should be fine." The younger man cut in, catching his brother's eyes for only a moment before focusing on what he thought was the beam of a flashlight moving along the side of the house. "You're in no condition to fight... so you need to find somewhere to hide." He continued, reaching down to grab a loose board from the floor at his feet. "Now Dean, GO!" He growled, pointing the other man up the stairs.

The last thing Dean wanted to do was leave his younger brother to deal with the very dangerous men alone, but Sam was right and he knew it; he was in no condition to fight, he could barely hold himself up. He swore under his breath as he clutched the shaky banister with one hand and started making his way up the old creaky stairs, each and every step feeling like the boards were going to give way underneath him. His heart was pounding right out of his chest as he watched Sam dart down the hall back towards the kitchen, his footsteps echoing for a moment as the other man disappeared from sight. His mind was racing with worse case scenarios as he reached the top of the stairs; what would he do if they got the best of Sam? Following the wall to his right, Dean turned into the first room he reached and hurried to make his way towards a closet in the corner. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness weighing heavily on his shoulders, he leaned back against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. The tears were finally starting to fall and as the pain and fatigue began taking it's toll; all he could do was bring his knees up to his chest and pray that the night from Hell would soon be over... one way or another.

Hiding behind a small closet door in the hallway near the stairs, Sam sucked in a breath as he watched the Sheriff shine the flashlight between the boards of the back door, whispering something to his accomplice before slipping in the same way he and Dean had. Trying to stay calm, he watched as the pair cautiously made their way into the kitchen. He could hear them talking to each other, but among the whispers, he couldn't make out a word. Now that they had seen the fire burning in the stove, they knew Dean was there somewhere; but what they didn't know, is that he was there as well, and he wasn't going down again without one hell of a fight.

With nothing more than a random board clutched in his tight grip, Sam watched from the darkness of the hall closet as the two men stepped out of the kitchen, flashlights in one hand and guns in the other. Both had their eyes and lights to the floor in front of them as they slowly started to make their way down the hall, their attention more than likely drawn to the wet prints he and his brother had left on the dust covered floor. He swallowed hard, unable to shake the feeling that he was trapped, as he listened to their steps echo eerily in the old abandoned house. The pair were getting closer, and when they came to a stop only a few feet away from the door he has hiding behind, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

"Might as well just come out now." The Sheriff shouted, his voice bouncing off the crumbling walls around them. "I know you're in here, I saw the fire in the stove and all that blood on the floor... Just want to let you know that we're gonna finish what..." He trailed off as the sound of a board creaking overhead caught his attention.

It was a simple sound, but it was enough to send Sam's heart racing as he watched through a crack in the door, the Sheriff point out the stairs at the end of the hall to his accomplice nearby. This was it, and now that they knew the man who'd gotten away was hiding upstairs, that's where they were headed. Two against one and armed, anyone could see that the odds were stacked against him; but Sam didn't care, because no matter what, he wasn't going to let them get to his brother this time. Waiting on pins and needles for just the right moment to strike, his grip on the board tightened as he watched both men start to make their way towards the stairs. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the pair walked right by the closet he was hiding in, unaware that they were now right where he wanted them to be. He took a deep breath, pushed the door open with his foot and caught both men by surprise; putting everything he had into that first swing, he sent the closest man to the floor with a single blow to the back of the head. The flashlight had yet to hit the ground when he quickly turned his attention to the wide-eyed Sheriff standing in front of him in the hall, wasting no time taking a swing at the man who'd forced him into the trunk of the Impala. When the Sheriff simply took a step back and loaded the gun in his grip, Sam knew he was done for.

On the floor of a small closet upstairs, Dean swore under his breath as the shattering sound of a gunshot made the house around him shake. As if that wasn't enough to destroy what little hope he had left, the sound of a second gunshot, cut him right to the core. For a moment, he could have sworn his heart had stopped beating right then and there... Hearing the commotion downstairs, his mind started flooding with gruesome images of his younger brother lying in a pool of blood at the Sheriff's feet. He swallowed hard, unable to push past the horrifying scene inside his head, and think of a way to get himself out of there without getting caught. He listened with his heart in his throat as the muffled voices died down, leaving the old house in an eerie silence for only a moment, before the distinct sound of footsteps could be heard coming up the rickety stairs.

At that point, fighting for his life seemed like a lost cause. He hated himself for even thinking of it that way, but deep down inside he knew he didn't stand the slightest chance of coming out of this alive. He'd already fought so hard and so long just to stay awake and conscious, for Sam's sake. Lightheaded, exhausted and now on the verge of a breakdown, he was more than willing to just give in, accepting that this was one battle he just wouldn't be able to win. The only thing about it he couldn't quite stomach, was the fact that what he was giving into, wasn't part of what he'd spent his entire life hunting. He'd had close calls in the past; with demons, monsters, and creatures, but this was very different, because there was nothing supernatural about any of this. As a hunter, he knew his time would come much sooner than later, but how he was about to die, was a slap in the face. Crouching in a closet waiting for a bullet with your name on it, is a far cry from going down in a blaze of glory.

As the footsteps reached the top of the stairs just down the hall, and the flashlight hit the wall just outside the room he was hiding in, he did the one and only thing he could do; he closed his eyes. If this was it for him, then the last thing he wanted to see was the man responsible for it all. His heavy heart hit like a hammer with every step that was taken, and before he knew it, he could feel those floor boards move underneath him as the other man entered the room. Anticipating the gunshot that would end it all, he was caught off guard by the familiar voice that broke him from his anguish.

"Dean... it's alright, you're safe." Bobby started, tucking the flashlight in his pocket as he reached down to carefully help the other man to his feet. Sam had told him Dean was in rough shape, but knowing didn't make it any easier on him to witness. Just seeing him hunched over on the floor, Bobby could tell right away that the younger man was giving it his all, just to stay conscious. "Come on get up, I've got you kid..."

His head was spinning as he was once again hoisted off the floor, this time by the veteran hunter who'd come out of nowhere. He'd been so focused on what was going on inside that old run down house, he'd never even heard the other man's car pull up the long driveway "Where's Sam?" He quietly started, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Bringing my car 'round back so we can get you the Hell out of here." Bobby was quick to reply, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist to help him keep his balance. "Why are you wet?" He asked, just trying to keep the other man's mind occupied until he got him out of the house and into the car.

"Because Sammy, my baby, and I all went for a dip in the lake." Dean replied, putting a hand out to steady himself against the railing as they started down the stairs.

"Your car is in the lake?" Bobby was quick to ask, careful with his steps so the other man could keep up pace.

"Yeah, along with all the other one's that have been missing for the past twenty years." Dean paused for a moment as he took a deep breath, his body starting to shake again as a shiver went down his spine. "We're the one's that got away, Bobby."

"Yeah, by the skin of your teeth..."

Dean was going to ask about the gunshots he'd heard, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the hall, his eyes fell to the bodies on the floor. The events of the night were still a whirlwind in his head, but he knew what had happened. "Bobby, there's two more of them somewhere... they were."

"We'll worry about them later." The other man interrupted, hurrying down the hall and out the back door to where Sam was waiting with his car. "Right now, we need to get you to a hospital."

"I don't want to go back to Scythe." Dean whispered, wincing in pain as the veteran hunter tightened his grip.

"I'm not taking you to Scythe.. There's another small town just up the road from here, I'm taking you there." Bobby explained, almost carrying the other man's full weight by the time they reached his car.

With Sam and Bobby's help, Dean slid into the back seat of the car, swearing under his breath as the pain in his shoulder reminded him of the events that had dragged him through Hell. Now that he knew they were both safe, that Sam was alive and Bobby was there to look after things; his racing mind started to slow and before he knew it, he couldn't even fight to keep his eyes open.

As they pulled out of the long driveway, Bobby adjusted his rearview mirror to take a glance at the man lying across the back seat of his car. "When you told me it was bad, I didn't think it was this bad..." He admitted, speaking only to break the moment of silence and pull Sam's eyes away from the Sheriff's truck still parked in front of the old house. When the younger man finally looked over at him, he knew tonight's ordeal was one the pair would need time to get over. He'd been keeping a brave face for his brother's sake, but now that Dean had finally given in to the pain and exhaustion, Sam was the one on the verge of a breakdown.

"I didn't know what to do, Bobby." Sam quietly started, his voice shaking as his mind drifted back through the past couple of hours. "Dad trained us to fight demons and monsters, not people... I didn't know what to do."

Bobby sucked in a breath as he watched the man beside him pass a hand over his face. "Sometimes there's no difference." He replied simply, his grip on the wheel tightening as he turned his attention back to the dark road ahead. "It's alright now, Sam."

"What about the bodies in the house?" Sam said, his mind still racing with what had been left behind. "The Sheriff's truck is still parked out front and there's still two other guys out there..."

"I'll take care of it, don't you worry about that." The veteran hunter cut in, his own anger starting to surface as he thought of what those men had done to his boys. "Just like I told your brother... you're safe now."

Sam let out a sigh as the sound of the car's roaring engine brought something else to mind. "You think the Impala's still going to run when we pull her from the lake?" He asked, turning in his seat to take a look at the unconscious man behind him. If it wasn't for Dean, he knew he would have drowned in the trunk of that car.

"Well we're going to have to drain and replace everything from the oil to the gas, then get the water out of the engine and dry out the plugs..." Bobby explained, his eyes drifting up to the rearview mirror for only a moment. "But I think she should still run by the time I'm done with her."

"I'm sure Dean will be happy to hear that..." Sam quietly replied, happy to know that their nightmare, was finally over.

Thanks for reading :)
~ Shugs