Warning: spoilers for 3x7- "Fresh Blood" when good ol' gordo attacks vampiric style! yikes!-also language, violence-aren't ya excited.

Disclaimer: yeah...yeah...yeah...wait what?..I haven't won them...aww damn!...stupid dream!

Summary: Spoiler for 3x7. FB. Gordo's back and he's back for blood. Retake on ep-Dean doesn't arrive with the colt and Gordo set's his fangs on Sammy. Major Sam whumpage/Limpness. Protective Dean, and minor injured older bro-ish-ness...lol thanks xx In the actual eppy, Dean didn't seem that bothered Sam was hurt, I had to change that...hehe xxxxxxx

This title is the lyrics from bad company's crazy circles, the song actually being played in this eppy, have a listen, it's a great tune.

Dean's fists banged on the metal shutters, the chain didn't budge and he couldn't kick through it. Sam was alone back there.


The muffled "Sam, be caeful." fell on deaf ears as the lights died.

Raw knuckles scraped on a fence, fingers finding wood and panals, palm grazing over mesh and shelving, breaths deep and slow.

Sam couldn't see anything, as soon as the light shut off his eyes had to adjust, Gordon was here watching him...he could feel it.

Pulling the machete free as fast as he could from its sheath, Sam angled his body in defence mode, eyes scouring the dim light or anything that moved.

His hand outstretched, he back peddaled through the hallways always alert, drawing Gordon in.

"Gordon..?" Sam shouted, his voice oddly comforting in the emptiness. "You've got me where you want me...might as well come out and fight!"

"I'm right here Sam." Gordon's montone suddenly too close to Sam's ears. He spun frantically, the stomach clenching fear he felt only just started to take over his body. Sam searched the spot he'd heard the voice, sudden realization that maybe Gordon was too much, as a vampire killing phycopath, that thought paralysing his very core. Hazel depths shimmering the pain to come and irrational fear of what he was facing taking hold.

Gasping breaths, ears straining the silence.

The maniacal laugh spun him again, knife drawn and ready. It echoed low and deadly. If only Sam could see through the darkness.

"What's a matter Sammy?" Gordon taunted, directly behind Sam. Scaring and toying with his victim to be. Amused at the myraid of emotions and dread pouring off the young hunter.

Turning in yet another circle, "Is this the way you really wanna' do it, huh?" Sam bit out, strangled and fast words to match his heart beat, of the way he was really going to certainly die, the way Gordon seemed amused by it.

Sam felt overpowering vulnerability steal his breath. He tumbled back a step.

"Damn right I do." The lowness and positveness numbed Sam a little more. Gordon would enjoy his death.

With bloodthirsty eyes to match the killer smile, Gordon advanced on the red glow that was Sam, his staccato beat thumping wildly in the monsters ears. Following the red tainted outline of a heart, Sam's face and movements he waited.

Sam swallowed, his grip on the blade tightened.

"You have no idea what I faced, to get here. I lost everything! My life!...but it's worth it." Calm and collectively he egded forward toward the high tailing Winchester. "Because I'm finally going to kill the most dangerous thing, I ever hunted...You're not human Sam!" His eyes glowering.

"look who's talking..." panicked breaths and jumpy steps didn't add the threat he wanted implied with his words. Gordon had him.

Gordon edged too close to Sam's frame and with lightning fast ease the machete buried itself in the wall, Sam's cry at aiming blindly,moments ago where Gordon's head rested. Sam pulled back and continued his treck, hands feeling his way. Breathing quickened.

"You're right...I'm a blood thirsty killer-"

"Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice!" Lenore didn't hurt people...why can't Gordon see he has a choice against this?

"I don't-" a harsh whsiper floated by, hairs standing on edge. Sam shifted slightly.

"Yes you do Gordon!...you didn't kill that girl!" Sam tried to compromise.

"No...I did something much, much worse." Sam heard a muffled gunshot from where Dean had disappeared from view by the shutters, and hoped to hell he was ok. Worry for his brother blocked out his inital danger a moment but when the blade was brought down shortly, Sam's mind wandered to if Dean was ok, playing out scenarious in his head. Did she get him?...Is he hurt right now?

Hands finding hard surface brought him back to reality, and his situation.

Gordon's taunts filled the air around him, making breathing hard as if the words were poison.

"You know, I gotta' hand it to ya'. You got a lotta' people fooled...But see...I know the truth! I know what it's like!" Stepping closer to the youngest. "We're the same now, you and me, I know how it is...walking around with something evil inside you." Measuring just the right amount of depth to his words that would hit Sam the hardest

Sam stumbled backwards, meeting a hand rail and following it round. Backing up further, heart pounding wildly.

"It's just too bad that you won't do the right thing...and kill yourself!...I'm gonna'...soon as I'm done with you...two last good deeds. Killing you...and killing myself."

Sam's backing up failed when he hit wooden panaling and insulation, stopping his tracks any further, face paling and bleeding emotion when he heard Gordon's growl and advancing step. Heart beating faster and faster even when he could hear Gordon so close, he could see nothing, knife swinging side to side. Waiting. Waiting is the worst part...

Gordon ran as fast as his inhuman speed allowed and plowed into Sam's torso, like a football tackle meant for death.

The fragile wooden panals gave way at the force, Sam fell through splintered shafts, Gordon pinning him when his back met the unforgiving floor.

With a pained cry, and grunt from the force, Sam's head flung back in pain, hair splashing around him.

The force of the attack knocked the knife from his hands, Gordon grabbed the blade with ease and threw it into the corner of the room, rubble covered and rustic.

Gordon fisted the young mans shirt collar in his hands and flung the barely concious boy into the wall, still with the vice iron grip Sam was flung again into a stack of metal shelving, various tools and objects jutting into him when the shelving bent under his weight and the blow.

Arms over his head for protection, Sam blarily tried to stand only succeeding in rolling onto the floor with a thud.

"looks like Sammy-boy doesn't have a brother to save him this time, if your brother's even alive by now." Gordon smirked.

"Ah...Dean...is...ok...we'll kill you," Sam gasped. Hands clawing at the ground to pull him forward. His chest suspiciously tight when he tried to take in air and the shelvings tools scratching his already damaged torso.

"You can't live through this Sam, you're going to die today. I'll make it a slow one...for all those times you slipped away from me..." Gordon let his fangs descend, eliciting a growl.

Reaching down to the back of Sam's neck and grabbing a bundle of his shirts and coat he lifted the youngest Winchester, spun him round to face him. Sam grunted when he couldn't draw in the much needed breath. Gordon's tightness on his clothes grazing his bruised, maybe broken ribs. When Sam looked into the face of his killer, only mind crippling fear and hate washed through him. Gordon's blood red eyes, fangs gleaming with splashes of moonlight. Fists held him up by the hem of his shirts, Sam's feet giving way beneath him, Gordon dragged him forward with him, then with super strength threw Sam against a long forgotten steel cupboard.

Sam cried as his back was bruised and rougly scraped again when he slid down the wall.

Sqeezing his eyes shut, and holding a breath Sam jumped when the cold lifeless hands again dragged him back up the wall. The coldness went through Sam's skin, numbing his very bones, he couldn't stop the tremble as he shivered. Sam's own hands around Gordon's wrists to ease the pressure didn't help, Gordon only pulled Sam toward him, spat hateful words and slammed him back against the steel, Sam screamed as his shoulder joint was dislocated where he painfully hit metal, his right arm falling limply.

"You will die alone Winchester!"

Blackness tried to claim him but Sam fought to stay concious, Dean would come, he always came.

"Gordon...please." Sam pleaded, a hiccuped sob parting bloody lips and sorrow filled eyes.

A quick backhand to the face and Sam's bloody nose answered his plea. Sam wasn't allowed any mercy. The crimson rivulets egged Gordon on more, dragging the fallen enemy by his hair, Sam grunted and bucked grabbing onto the dead hands holding him when they abrupbtly let go.

Heavily leaning to one side, Sam knealed ready to stand when the dizziness overtook his senses.

"Get up." The strong demand reminded Sam of John, but he knew they never evem shared a connection, John was so much more.

A rough kick to Sam's exposed side made him move and again the demand was repeated hatefully.

"NOW!" Gordon stared at the bloody figuire, the need to drink him dry buzzing in the background.

Sam leant on wobbly hands and unsturdy legs, cradling his side protectively. Nausea threatened him once again.

The punch came out of nowhere, spinning Sam to lean on more metal shelving covering the rest of the room.

"Gordon..." Sam swallowed, he honestly had no clue what to say, every cell in the elder hunters body was ready to kill Sam, what could he say to change that?

Sam heard his name being called not so far away, dread flooded him. "Just...don't...hurt Dean...do whatever...to me." He gasped, puling his tall frame to stand using the MDF boards.

The atery pulsed under Sam's skin, Gordon zoned in, his thirst growing more every second. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Don't worry, by the time Dean gets here you'll be dead...I'll be long gone to finish my last good deed." Gordon strained himself to hear Dean calling out for Sam, he was getting closer.

"SAMMY!" The last shout echoed around them, Dean was closing in fast. Sam dared to let a sudden rush of hope fill his heart...maybe?

"DEAN!" Sam yelled with as much force as he could.

Gordon flew forward, knocking Sam backwards hitting a tank. the metal barrel gave a 'dong' when Sam fell.

Dean entered the far corner of the room, Saw Sam in time for the fall and Gordon's advance.

"GORDON!" Dean screamed and shot blindly with the colt, the richoche of the bullet panging on different surfaces but altogether missing its target seng fear coursing through Dean.

The well manoevered roll and duck caught Gordon inches before Sam, who sat trapped against the barrel and shelving.

Before Sam could even shout this time, he was stood, Gordon behind tightly holding his hair back, Sam's neck showing his rapid pulse. Thump. Thump. Thump

Without even drawing a breath he was jutted forward and slammed head first into the tank. Stars danced in front of his eyes as he was lifted.

His heartbeat grew faster, the jugalor artery pouncing its rythym on Sam's throat.

Thirst and hunger took over when the descended fangs met tender flash and bit into Sam deeply. A choked muffled sob caught in his throat.

Sam cried out somewhere near the shelves and Dean ran to skid to a halt, eyes widening.

Gordon tightly held Sam, his teeth ripping into Sam. "HEY!" Dean yelled aiming the colt, Sam's frame preventing a shot.

Gordon lifted a blood streaked chin, growled, eyes hard and unforgiving. He's really become that monster...damn.

Sam's eyes were slipping closed, he'd lost too much blood, too much energy for this. His conciousness ebbing away Dean locked on his baby brother's gaze.

Hold on Sam.

Knew you'd come Dean.


His head almost reaching his chest, the grip in his hair jerked him back, neck straining to breath at the angle, blood pooling aound the bite staining his shirts and coat.

"Ahhh...ugh..." panicked gasps filled the silence.

"You can't shoot me without shooting Sam, are you gonna' risk it?" Gordon played.

"You let go of him, you SON OF A BITCH! you are fucking DEAD!" Dean cocked the colt and aimed high.

"Now...now Dean, I could just as easily break his neck first." A harsh tug on Sam's hair elicated a grunt from the youngest, his arms pinned behind him by Gordon's inhuman strength.

Pleading eyes stared up at the ceiling, praying for something...divine intervention?, anything so Dean would be ok...anything.

All it took was Dean's blink, when Gordon took the opportunity. Roughly shoving Sam forward and pulling his head to meet the tank again, Sam's body fell with a cut off cry and thud when he hit the floor, temple bleeding.

Reaching a nearby shelf to grab an axe Gordon heaved it above his head ready to kill his most feared enemy in the best, most avenging death when a shot hit his shoulder.

Dean reloaded automatically and shot again with deadly aim, the gunshot reverberated through the room, everything happened in slow motion. A crackling engery shot through him, stumbling backwards, dropping the axe, he fell. Knees bent, face staring, his face met the floor, dark crimson pooled around him matching the shadows of his damaged soul.


Dean sighed, ran over to the tank and jumped over it. Sam was sprawled arkwardly against the barrel.

"Sammy...man you ok?" Dean hefted Sam's shoulders and leant him against the tank in a seating position. "Sam?" He tried again brokenly.

Sam was aware he was being touched by a warm, familiar..."Dean?" Sam rasped.

"Oh thank god, you know how long I've been here trying to wake your ass up?" Dean said, worry and relief washed over his features.

Dean rested his hands on Sam's shoulders, when Sam flinched and fell sidewards with a cry. Dean cursing apologies, and threats to the deceased walker. Something about 'Reincarnation' and 'kill him again'.

"No..DEAN! STOP!...stop...ahh..." Sam muffled a grunt when he sat back up, explaining "My shoulder...dislocated." he sighed.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, muttered some more 'sorry's' and rested his hand on Sam's left shoulder.

"You ok kid?" Dean said, eyes already scanning the bloody face, and body.

"Yeah...you?...Gordon said he'd turn-"

"Yeah, I got her." Dean muttered."Knocked me out, but I got her." Dean said, unconciuosly rubbing his temple where a deep graze sat, and the bump on his head.

Heavy breathing, and sighs. Several minutes later, Dean asked the dreaded question.

"Where else are you hurt?"


"Let's just get to a hotel, get cleaned up." Sam said, trying his best to stand without taking a nose dive. Dean intervined and stayed to Sam's left from his right shoulder wound and newly found out rib damage although he didn't know the extent until he got Sam to a motel and checked him over.

"Anything else I should know about, before we get to the car?" Dean asked sarcastically with a serious edge, finally reaching the night air. The last stumble on the stairs leaving Sam's chest restricting, He couldn't breath and Dean had freaked.

"I don't know myself Dean...lets just-"

"Yeah, motel... you said three times already." Dean sighed and let Sam down enough to spread out in the passenger seat. Arms protecting his sides, breaths seeming to wheeze slightly. Dean started to think Sam knew how bad he was hurt but wouldn't say, damn Winchester stubborness.

The drive away from the warehouse Gordon had trapped them in wasn't peaceful, or tense just relief they finally didn't have to worry about that son of a bitch anymore.

Dean noticed about 5 miles away from the warehouse that Sam was still with him, blood still trickling down his face and his baby brothers arms still around his ribs on his right side, but he was still aware and concious. Dean had to admit Sam had some stubborness, after what had happened he was amazed Sam had stayed awake all this time. His breathing was still wheezy but he seemed ok, well considering.

"Stop staring will you." Sam said slowly, almost as if simply blinking was taking a toll on him, if he dared speak any louder that he would collapse in exhaustion.

"I'm not staring man, you're hurt bad. Rest might not be a bad thing, I'll wake you if I find a motel. Ok?" Dean said, eyes scanning the road.

"No...I can't sleep, not yet." Sam said, eyes snapping open when they dared slip past half way. Dean spotted a neon sign telling of the 'Mountain inn' 1 mile.

"What?...why the hell not?...Sam there's a motel not a mile away, you'll be sleeping then anyway. What's wrong?" Dean asked dreading that some unknown truth about the battle with Gordon be unleashed, or worse.

"Gotta stay awake...get cleaned up. Motel...ahh." A sharp intake of breath, had Dean pressing harder on the gas. Sam's incoherent mumbling worrying him more than he'd like to admit.

With a screech of tires and thrust forward by the sharp braking, Dean ran into the office, booked out a room with demands and shouts about a brother in need and ran out with the keys so fast Sam wasn't even aware they had stopped.

Dean pulled open Sam's door with a squeak, balanced his brother with his good side and locked his car.

Heaving Sam, more like dragging him to their room was tiring but Sam needed to be looked at closer, something was very, very wrong.

Closing the motel door with a loud bang from his run for the first aid kit, Sam tipped on the second bed.

"Sammy...man you 'wake?" Dean said, sliding their tin of treatments over the bed where Sam lay.

"mmmmm...mmm..Dean?..." Sam mumbled.

Removing Sam's coat and outer shirt wasn't as easy as it sounded, dried blood and bruising making movements painful and minimal. Sam's damaged side and shoulder protesting at any movement at all, so Dean's plan went out the window and he had to cut Sam's under shirt off.

Dean gasped at the sight of his ribs, dark purple to blue and greens with yellow marred Sam's chest and right side, not to mention a deep slash over his hip.

"Jesus Sam, what the hell did he do to you?" Dean said angrily.

Angry that he didn't enjoy killing the sadistic bastard more, that he could have finished Gordon nice n' slow the way he'd intended to kill Sam, to get some kind of avengement out of it...then again, Sammy's big expressive eyes locked on his and he showed Dean that, that kind of avenging would be just like Gordon, and they were better.

Sam was better, he never deserved this.

"Shelves...and...wall I fell through." Sam smiled weakly, breaking the silence. "Wasn't all fighting..." A weak laugh.

A deep sigh seemed to drain the eldest sibling. He sat on the end of Sam's bed taking in the rainbow bruising.

"That's gonna' freaking kill in the morning Sammy...I need to wrap them and check the rest of you out." Dean's hand brushed the back of Sam's head raising his posistion so Dean could wrap Sam's ribs when a pained whimper exploded from Sam's lips. Dean instantly stilled and gracefully handled Sam into a sitting posistion.

"You ok, dude?" Dean warily asked, already feeling the knotted lump at the base of Sam's skull. DAMN GORDON!

"Yeah, just...sore is all...my back-"

"Hang on Sammy..." Dean swiveled round to get a clearer view of Sam's exposed back, his eyes watered at the sight.

Slashes and grazes of raw tender skin canvased his lower back and shoulder blades, a particulary deep jagged cut under his shoulder blades and over a few ribs, splinters visable from his wrestle with the wall. Wood's not a good thing to land on when it's broken.

"I guess he threw ya' round a lot huh." It wasn't a question.

"Kinda...how bad?" Sam sounded so vulnerable right now, just like...

"DEAN...DEAN!" Sam cried, cradling his fragile young frame around his knee at the profusely bleeding graze. "DEAN...come quick!" Sammy cried.

"Sammy...oh god are you ok?...what happened?" A frightened Dean asked, trying to see the damamge.

"I..fell off the bike..." A hiccuped sob "It's red everywhere! make it stop!" Sam's waterlogged face broke Dean's too young heart.

"It's gonna be ok, just let me see ok?...Sammy?" Dean gently asked pushing Sam's hands away. There was a lot of blood.

"NO...no don't touch it..please...it hurts." Sam's terror filled eyes held glued to Dean's.

"No, no I won't Sammy, just let me see. We'll get some plasters, bandage it up and you'll be fine Sam...I promise." Dean's concerned gaze stared through Sam, nothing but absoloute trust reflected back, Sam nodded, wiped his tears with a gravel grazed arm.

Dean fished for a bandage, retrieved some anti-septic cream and gently applied it to the plaster, hand's holding with Sam to lay the cloth over his knee, never touching his skin. The bandage was wrapped neatly.

Afterwards Sam leaned into Dean, tears finally drying up.

"How bad?" Sam said, scared. Hazel lakes melting at Dean's smile.

"Dean...how bad?" Sam sounded just like his younger self, Dean had to bite back the sting of tears, swallow the lump in his throat.

Dean stood and faced Sam, his well placated smile making Sam's eyes melt just like they had all those years ago.

"Ok...I think. I need to check your pupils, and clean the cuts, that damn fang bite, but..." Dean frowned.

Sam blinked up at Dean, a bleary smile making it's way from his pained features.

"You'll be hurting for a long time Sam, some of the damage...we might need a hospital. Check for breaks." Dean sighed, lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. Shoulder touching Sam's taking comfort in it's warmth, warmth meant alive, and a 'live' Sammy was a happy Dean.

"No...too many questions...I'm ok." Sam grimaced when he breathed deeply, adjusting his hold on his limp right arm.

"Ok...But if your side doesn't get better or you can't breath like tonight on those stairs, you're going...no buts." Dean threw a lopsided grin with a flash of seriousness.

A beat.

"Thank-you" Sam breathed.

"What for?" Dean looked confusedly down at Sam.

"Coming when you did...Gordon..he...just thanks." Sam didn't need to explain what would of happened a fraction of a second later.

"That's what big brothers do...thanks for giving me the chance, I heard what he said...'bout not killing me if you let him get you. That's brave Sam." A genuine smile.

Sam's heart skipped a beat, face paling.

Another Winchester, heart whole smile.

He'd gotten his brother back unharmed. Safe.

He'd gotten the best thing in his life back on track...his only family, his idol.

Dean cleared his throat, shifted and grabbed the peroxide and some clothes, bandages and whiskey.

"Lemme' take a look at that bite." Dean gestured.

Apart from the dried blood and swelling, it had stopped bleeding and the puncture marks weren't deep or infected. Just discoloured skin surrounded the area, but having been forcely bitten into could bruise your skin like that.

Applying the peroxide and a cry from Sam, Dean muttered an apology and pressed the cloth against the wound, the peroxide bubbled underneath until the wound was clean, and Dean bandaged and wrapped it.

"You doin' ok?" Dean said, moving onto Sam's back. "This'll hurt, sorry."

"Yeah, just tired is all." Sam answered, biting down when he felt Dean prod and poke at his numerous cuts and press around his tender upper back agaisnt the bruises.

The peroxide was once again used, earning much more of a cry from Sam, as he shot forward when Dean tried to remove a large but thin splinter and disinfect the area.

Half a bottle of whiskey later, Sam's head was drooping on his chest, eyes screwed shut when Dean began to wrap his few tender ribs and his back in tight wadding, and bandaged tape strips.

Sam's face was minor, superficial knicks and cuts. His head wound having no concussion or bleeding anymore just a slightly tender nose and lip, also a swollen cheek where a punch had been thrown in more than once. After cleaning the cuts with a swab and cotton wool, Dean butterfly bandaged his temple gash, and he asked Sam if anywhere else hurt before the worst pain came.

"Sam?...still here man?" Dean cautiuosly asked, wiping his face with a wash cloth for the dried blood on his temple and swollen jaw. Taking his own swig of the whisky Dean cast saddened eyes at Sam's resting form.

"I'm awake Dean...you finished?" Sam asked hopefully.

"No, sorry man...you're not hurt anywhere else though right?"

"Yeah, just where you've poked me more..." A dry chuckle. "No." Sam's head rested on the head board, Left arm cradling his right and his ribs, the tight bandage making breathing a stretch. The whiskey helped with that though.

"Right...you ready?" Dean regretably asked.

"F'what." Sam slurred.

"Sam, I haven't forgotten your shoulder, you dislocated it, It needs putting back in the socket man...ready?" he grimly reached for the limb.

"AH...ah!" Sam shot back, any movement sent white hot pain into his shoulder which jarred his bite, and caused his breathing to deepen effecting his ribs. Everything hurt.

"Whoa...maybe we do need a hospital."

"No, it's just...sore...don't grab it. Just do it." Sam turned his face away, jaw clenching awaiting the pain, his left hand fisted the covers.

"Ok. On three Sam...he gently flexed his hand and came mere inches from Sam's wrist, the other hand situated just above his shoulder ready to pull and twist the joint back into place.

"One..." Dean placed a ghost of his hands on Sam's wrist and shoulder, ready to clap down, Sam inhaled deeply.

"Two." Dean fisted Sam's wrist and locked a firm grip on his shoulder, then gave a rough tug and twisted then jerked the arm forward, Sam screamed at the force and pain. The joint grinding and popping back into place, feeling returned to the limb, pain came with the feeling.

Sam's back began it's descent back to the head board from his arch forward, fast shallow breaths, eyes still tightly shut. Mouth twisted in a grimace. "I...knew...you'd...do that..." Sam panted, cradling his useable joint to stop the ache and river of pain running up and down his body.

"Sorry." Dean meant it, so he skipped a number, It was fast. But Sam's scream...

"You ok...that bad?" Dean mumbled closer to Sam's pale and sheening face. Dean had a dislocated shoulder before and that was a nasty accident, he'd been half out of it when it was fixed but he sure could remember the amount of pain.

Finally finding his breathing pattern, Sam relaxed somewhat. "Yeah...I don't wanna do that ever again." He said, smiling. At least he could joke about it despite the sick feeling making his body hot and cold.

Dean ruffled is hair, gave him another swig of whiskey and two Tylenol. As soon as Sam's head hit the pillow he was out.

"Why didn't you do that before I started friggin' ripping into you." Dean smiled at Sam's stubborness and went to the bathroom to see his own injuries.

A shallow cut on his hairline and bruising on his shoulder and jaw was solved with a shot glass and an ice pack, he sat in a chair over Sam's bedside.

"Thanks for not letting him get you Sammy..." Dean whispered.

He didn't however expect the muttered and barely audiable "Thanks for being my big brother again..." when soft breaths calmed the night air, and the brother's could finally be at peace and relax.

END xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well I hope you enjoyed, as always thanks for reading, sorry for any errors.