The smoke burned in Victor's eyes but that wasn't the real reason for his tears. Looking around he noticed that the others were silently crying, too. Even Dean had tears running down his otherwise emotionless face. Victor blinked and looked back into the flames.

The fire was burning low now and in the middle Victor could hardly make out the form of the body. However, it would take a while to burn it completely. It. Foster. The man he had killed. The man he had known for two days. The man he had called a friend.

At some point Dean guided him back to the car which was probably good because he had been close to falling face first into the flames. Sam didn't look better.

After Dean had settled them in the car he drove them back to the motel. One last look told Victor that Gerry still stood at the pyre, staring into the flames.

"Victor." Dean said his full name – probably not for the first time – and looked him straight in the eye. They were back at the motel.

"Yeah?" He managed to say but it sounded hoarse. The muscles working his jaw pulled at his bitten neck. Sharp pain spiked through his arm and head.

"Go inside, take off your clothes and take a shower." Dean spoke loud and clear like he was talking to a five-year-old. "Can you do that?"

Victor thought about it and nodded. He could do that. Thinking about it, he had vampire blood – and Foster's blood – all over him.

"OK. I'll take care of Sammy and then I'll come over to look after you."

Victor nodded again and then his body went on autopilot. Inside his room he stripped and piled the soiled clothes next to the door. He'd burn them as soon as he could think straight again.

In the shower he turned the water as hot as possible and scrubbed his skin till he felt row all over. And still. He could feel the crusted blood on his skin. On his hands. Under his fingernails. Blood on his hands.

Closing his eyes he saw their faces. Not just Foster's – however, that was the worst part – but those teenagers, too. Every face was clear in his mind. They watched him, they mocked him, they screamed at him.

Sobbing Victor sagged down. The water was still pouring down on him, hot jets of water biting his skin. He drew his knees close and slung his arms around them, making himself as small as possible.

"Vic, hey, Vic." Suddenly Dean was with him in the shower. Victor blinked up at him and wondered why he was sitting on the floor and why the water was so cold. Dean reached for the faucet and turned the water off.

"Can you stand up?" Victor nodded and frowned at the towel on his lap. Where did that come from? "Scared me a little here." Dean chatted while he throw a second towel over Victor's shoulders. At least drying off he left for Victor to do himself. Dean settled him on the closed toilet seat and looked him over.

"I got it." Victor said and took the clothes Dean handed him. The last thing he wanted was Dean helping him putting on his pants.

"Get dressed and then I'll have a look at your neck." After he had made sure that Victor could manage the rest Dean left him and what was left of his dignity.

After endless minutes Victor had gathered the strength to come out of the bathroom and to face Dean.

"Dean, I'm sorry." For what he wasn't sure. For crying like a girl in the shower? For killing his friend?

"Sit and let me have a look at the bite." Dean said and he didn't sound angry at all. Tired, exhausted but not angry.

Victor sat and didn't even flinch when Dean disinfected the wound.

"You did good today. You know that?" Dean finished his work and put his things away. "What do you want? Liquid knockout or as pills?" He held up a bottle of Jack and a bottle of pills.

They had the Jack.

"When he … snapped at me." Victor took a large sip of the burning liquid. "I don't know … I just reacted." He shook his head, emptied his glass and helped himself with a refill.

"You had no choice." Dean kept up with his pace. They were at their third refill or was it the fourth? "Like I told you, it's the only cure for vampirism." He made the universal cut-throat-gesture. "He knew the risk. You stopped him before he could kill anybody. You did the right thing."

"It doesn't feel right."

"It never does."

When Victor woke up the next day with a bad taste in his mouth and feeling like a week old roadkill Dean was gone and for a moment he was sure the Winchesters had left for good. He wouldn't blame them.

But when he got the nerve to look out of the window he found the Impala in its black and shiny glory still in the parking lot. No sign of Gerry's truck, though. And when Victor stepped out of his room he noticed the maid who was cleaning out Gerry's room.

Fists buried in his pockets Victor leaned against the wall and closed his eyes against the bright sun. Half a bottle of Jack had been a little too much, he thought. Hell, he could use the other half of that bottle right now.

The door next to him opened and Dean stepped out into the sunlight. He squinted the same way Victor did so he probably felt like crap, too.

Dean carried his and Sam's bags but he didn't looked like Victor had caught him sneaking out on him.

"You okay?" Dean asked while he dumped the bags in the trunk.

"Yeah." Victor lied. Nothing was okay and he had no idea how to make it okay.

"Get your things." Dean left the trunk open for Victor's bag. "I'll wake sleeping beauty and then we should hit the road. Somebody will notice the farm soon." He thought about it for a second. "Or the saw-mill."

Victor wanted to say something – talk about it or maybe apologize, again – instead he turned and grabbed his things. Dean was right, the police would notice the massacre they had left soon and they should be gone by then.

So he took his place in the backseat of the Impala and stared sightlessly at the landscape passing by.

***end***

A big "Thank You" to everybody who enjoyed this story with me. It's just amazing how many people read it, left a review or put it on their alert/favorite list.

Victor's journey will continue in the fifth (and last) part of this 'verse "Monster in the Mirror" so watch out for it if you like.

But first for something completely different.