A/N Saturday this website had a major problem, new chapters didn't show up. They say it's fixed now so I hope this chapter will show up properly.


That's how I look dying, Victor thought randomly when the shifter went down. Victor held his head up long enough to make sure the shifter didn't get up again and then slammed face first back to the ground. He breathed through leaves and pine-needles but didn't have the energy to get up.

Somewhere somebody was shouting his name and the beam of a flashlight bounced around the trees.

"Vic?" Sam, Victor realized. Maybe he should answer. "Vic!"

Seconds later the light hit him right in the face.

"Victor, shit." Sam was next to him. Fingertips ghosted over his head and his neck, probing, pulling. Victor winced in pain.

"Sorry, gotta check." Sam finished his exam. "Can you roll over?"

"'M good." He mumbled and was absolutely content with just laying on the damp ground. The pine-needle were a little uncomfortable but nothing compared to the pain he expected from moving. Sam, however, had other ideas. Gently but firmly he rolled Victor over and then the light was back.

Victor screwed his eyes shut and let Sam do his thing.

"'S dead?" Victor asked and probed a tooth with his tongue. It gave a little but he hoped it would hold.

"Yeah, you killed it." Sam smiled at him with his split lip. "But we better get going. Don't know if anybody heard the shooting. Can you get up?"

Victor was pretty sure that the answer to that was no but he nodded and with Sam's help he got his feet under him. After a few seconds the world mostly stopped spinning. The pain, however, stabbed through him with every move he made. Once again even breathing hurt. Yeah, he really had missed that feeling.

"What are we doing with him?" Victor glared at the dead thing that so much looked like him.

"We leave it." Sam adjusted his grip and lead him back to the car. "The sheriff will find it, case closed." They made a few more steps. "Sorry, you'll be officially dead after this."

Victor heard the words but they washed over him. Maybe when his head didn't feel like a smashed melon anymore he could think about that.

Sam manhandled him into the car and then they were on the road.

Before he drifted of to unconsciousness Victor heard Sam talking on the phone but couldn't make out the words.

When he woke up they were in the parking lot of what looked like another motel. Where, Victor had no idea but didn't exactly care. It promised a bed and that was all he was asking for at the moment. Maybe some painkillers, that would be awesome.

Sam got them a room, coaxed Victor out of the car and into the bed, cleaned his wounds and dosed him up with some of the good stuff. Took some himself and then they fell into their pillows.

"Dean and Gerry should be here in an hour or two." Sam mumbled before he drifted off to sleep and Victor followed right behind.

At some point Dean was there, checking on them but otherwise Victor slept deep and dreamless till morning.

"Morning, sunshine." Dean greeted him.

"Do I smell coffee?" Hopefully Victor cracked his eyes open.

"Coffee, painkillers and the newspaper." The latter landed on his bed. "You made it to the headline."

"Killer found shot in the woods" was said headline garnished with a picture of Victor which was clearly taken from his FBI badge and another one which showed how a body in a black bag had been carried out of the woods.

"You got that bastard." Dean raised his cup of coffee. "Good job."

"The sheriff?" Vaguely Victor remembered the shifter saying something about Dean and the sheriff.

"Had a couple of questions." Dean shrugged. "Wouldn't take no for an answer. Good thinking with the hitchhiker story by the way."

"He let you go?" Back in the days he would have given the sheriff hell for having Dean Winchester in the station and letting him go.

Dean flashed him a gin. "Apparently the shifter didn't drop my real name."

"He wanted you out of the way for a while." Speaking hurt, his whole face felt like it had been through a meat grinder. "Wanted to kill you all and pin it on me."

"You really pissed him off." Dean smirked like that was something good.

Gerry stuck her head in and Dean excused himself mumbling something about helping Sam packing the car. The fact that he younger man wasn't in the bed next to him hadn't actually reached Victor's mind until now.

"It's alive." Gerry grinned at him and pulled a chair closer to Victor's bed.

"Barely." Carefully he sipped at his coffee. His lip was split and it felt fat and sore and at some point he had to get up the nerve to look in a mirror but he would live.

"I was thinking." She played with the seam of her jeans. "How about watching each others asses for a while?"

Victor blinked at her. She wasn't asking what he thought she was asking, right? But she looked serious.

"Why?" Was all Victor could think of.

"You're good hunter." She looked down avoiding his gaze. "As a team we might survive for a while."

"I killed your partner." Did he really have to remind her of that fact?

"That's the main reason I want you." Now she looked him straight in the eye. "You didn't hesitate. You did what you had to do. I want somebody at my side I can trust to do the same for me."

He swallowed thickly not sure what to say.

"Okay." Was the only thing he could think of. The Winchesters would kick him out rather sooner than later, their deal had been temporarily from the beginning, and for sure he didn't feel ready to hunt on his own. Like Gerry said, together they might live for a while longer. And to be honest, he liked her.

"Great." She grinned at him. "Now, why don't you hit the bathroom while I tell Dean to throw your things out and then we'll get moving. You can sleep in the car. I want a state or two between us and your dead corpse as soon as possible."

Still kinda numb Victor got under the shower. The painkillers had kicked in and the pain was bearable. Slowly it dawned to him that Victor Henriksen was now officially dead. They would bury that thing under his name.

Who will come to my funeral, he wondered and wasn't that a morbid thought?

His mother, his family, his friends, everybody he ever knew now thought he was a cold-blooded killer. A dead cold-blooded killer.

Gerry had loaded Victor's things in her truck, with four shiny new tires, and they were ready to go.

Two manly hugs and the promise to call if he ever needed help later the Winchesters drove off and Victor climbed stiffly in the truck.

"You move like an old man." Gerry got in the driver's seat.

"Says the grumpy old woman." He made himself comfortable while she brought the engine to life.

"Where to?" He asked but didn't really care.

"Hole up for a day or two, we both could use a break." She answered with a side glance at his abused face. "Then we'll find something to kill."

"Sounds good." Victor let the purring of the engine lull him to sleep.

***end***


This is it. Victor's journey with the Winchesters is over and I think Gerry will take good care of him from now on.

Maybe (and this is a huge maybe) I'll come back to this 'verse one day but for sure not any time soon. I'd like to see Victor's reaction to Cas, though.

A really big Thank You to all of you who have followed Victor's journey with me, you are awesome.

My next story Fellowship of the Nine will start on Saturday, so if you like outsider POV, Stanford friends, lots of wrong assumptions and awesome Winchesters hop in.