Title: Hunger in the Dark

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: Post 3x11 "Mystery Spot" Sam is focused on not letting Dean out of his sight now that he has him back, so focused he makes himself a target and Dean must find a way to save him.

Author's note: Final chapter! You know, i thought this was going to be longer when I started it. LOL Hope you've all enjoyed it none the less!

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P


Dean stood and looked around. "So, any sign of this pot the thing's bound too?"

"Balls." Bobby threw his arms out in frustration. "It aint in here. Could be one of the other rooms down here." He nodded toward the door.

"Right. So we play tag with the damn family dog until we find it." Dean checked the clip in his gun and sighed. "It doesn't get to Sam again." He told Bobby firmly and the older man nodded, raising his gun to the door as Dean took the handle. He turned the knob and threw the door open. The Sigbin waited just outside, semi-visible and snarled as Dean's gun lowered into its' face. He pulled the trigger, sending the creature tumbling back along the hall as Bobby shouted in surprise behind him.

"Dean!" Bobby called and then gasped as an arm circled his neck like a band of iron.

Dean whirled to find Bill amazingly alive and choking Bobby. He raised his arm to take the man's head off this time and grunted as Gary appeared, covered in blood and very much alive to tackle him into the open door and out into the hall.

"Should have listened to your brother." Gary hissed into Dean's ear as he pressed him into the floor and the Sigbin stalked toward them.


Sam heard Bobby shout, then Dean and even in his semi-conscious state he knew something was going very wrong. The familiar panic that had been choking him for days came back full force and drove him awake. The soul deep panic of Dean slipping through his fingers while he wasn't looking, of seeing him die over and over, of six terrifying months spent existing without him forced air back into his lungs and feeling back into his limbs. He swallowed back the dizziness threatening to suck him under again and crawled up the wall until he was standing. He saw Bobby first, the older man's legs giving way, face turning blue and Bill behind him with a maniacal grin.

Sam dove forward as Bobby's arms went limp and dropped his gun. He caught the weapon before it hit the floor and fired into Bill's face. The man was sent tumbling back to fall against the altar. Sam glanced down to see Bobby wheezing air in and turned to the hall and his brother. He staggered to the door, slumping into it and raised the gun in a shaky hand. Dean was pinned beneath Gary and the Sigbin was lurking just beyond them; hissing, spitting and waiting for a chance to capture Dean's shadow. Sam raised the gun and shot out the light in the ceiling above, plunging the hall into darkness. With the light behind him tossing his shadow forward, he lunged and wrapped his arms around Gary's shoulders, grunting with the effort of pulling the man up with him. He ducked behind Gary so it was his shadow that crawled out over Dean and down the hall.


He heard Dean say and a moment later, Gary gave a pained shout as the Sigbin pounced on the only shadow available to it. Sam felt warm blood gush over his arms as the creature fed eagerly from the shadow's throat and Gary's voice gurgled into nothing.

"Dean." Sam said hoarsely. "Get back…in here." Gary writhed in his weakening grip. Adrenaline was leaving him and in its wake the blood loss was going to take him down again. "Dean."

Dean scrambled to his knees, staying low so his shadow wouldn't overtake Gary's and squeezed around them. He stood and pulled Sam back, giving Gary a solid kick out into the hall and slammed the door. "Sam? Sam!" Dean caught him as his legs gave way and lowered him to the wall beside the door.

"M'okay. Bobby." Sam panted and Dean nodded, giving him a thump on his good shoulder before turning away.

"Gettin' slow in your old age, Bobby." Dean said with a grin. He reached down and pulled the older Hunter to his feet. His eyes narrowed angrily at the ring of bruises circling Bobby's throat and he moved his adoptive father aside to see Bill's body, face a red ruin lying beside the altar.

"Call me old again boy and I will take you over my knee." Bobby growled at him with a smirk. "Sam?" He went and knelt beside the younger Winchester. "What in hell possessed you, son? You aint got enough blood left in ya to be playin' superhero."

Sam smiled tightly with his eyes barely open and let Bobby prod at the wound in his shoulder. "Not helpless." He murmured and hissed while Bobby adjusted the cloth wrapped around the wound.

Bobby snorted. "Never said you was. Bleedin' again." He observed and tightened the bandage.

"Not dead yet." Sam was floundering against the pull of sleep. He tangled his fingers weakly in Bobby's sleeve. "Bill. Gary."

Bobby patted his hand and loosened Sam's grip. "We know, son. We know."

"Already on it." Dean called and Sam tilted his head to see Dean had rolled Bill onto his stomach and was tying his hands tightly behind him. Dean stood and checked on the little girl again. Whatever they had given her was keeping her blissfully asleep. He hoped it would last until they could get her out. He pulled up the long sides of the cloth covering the altar and wrapped it around her like a blanket before lifting her gently. He stepped around behind it and set her behind it, out of sight. "That should keep her safe until we get this mess sorted." The Sigbin was growling and hissing in the hall again, scrabbling at the closed door from time to time, rattling it in its frame. If Gary had recovered from its attack he had yet to show himself.

"We gotta find that damn vase." Bobby said with a shake of his head.

"How much ammo you got left?" Dean checked his own clip and raised an unhappy brow.

Bobby picked up his gun from beside Sam and smirked. "Got enough to do the job."

Sam refused to let them face the creature alone and struggled to get his legs under him. He jerked, realizing his eyes were still closed when he felt hands on his shoulders pushing him back down.

"Stay put, Sammy." Dean ordered and held him still. "Bobby and I got this." He frowned down at his little brother, so determined to get up and help again despite how close he was to being unconscious. He felt as though Sam didn't want to let him out of his sight, as he had for days and decided when this was done they were going to have a long talk. He waited until Sam settled back and then stood. "Okay, Bobby. Plan?"

"Don't get dead." Bobby said with a shrug and went to the door.

Dean snorted. "Nice." He pulled out his flashlight and flicked it on then reached over to the light switch beside the door. Sam had shot out the light in the hall which meant as soon as he opened the door their shadows would sprawl out into the hall if he left the lights in the room on. "You want Cujo or the thing's doghouse?"

"I'll find the pot it's bound too. You keep it busy." Bobby said and readied himself.

Dean nodded and plunged the room into darkness. "Stay put, Sam." Dean said softly and threw the door open, leading with his flashlight. "Shit. Gary's gone."

"Balls." Bobby stepped up behind him and just caught the flicker of the Sigbin in the beam of the flashlight before Dean fired and stepped into the hall. "Go, Bobby!" He stepped further out and closed with the creature, keeping its attention while Bobby kicked in the first door and vanished. The Sigbin gave a low, feral growl from the end of the hall and Dean had trouble keeping it in the beam of the light as it blinked in and out of visibility.

"Come here ugly." Dean stalked closer to it. "I got somethin' for you to chew on." He let off two more rounds, grinning as the Sigbin screeched in pain. He heard a step behind him and turned with the flashlight, shining briefly on Bobby before aiming it back down the hall. "Anything?"

"Still lookin." Bobby growled and opened the door across from him.

"Hurry up." Dean jumped back a step as the creature lunged for him. He fired into its body, wishing the damn thing would die already. The sound of a foot fall behind him made him turn but he was too slow as someone tackled into his back and drove him to the floor. "Gary, you ass." Dean growled and drove his elbow back and up into the man's face. He heard a grunt and tried to roll only to be pinned down.

"Wrong." Bill's voice breathed in his ear and Dean froze for a moment with fear.

He had tied Bill up himself. If he was loose then Gary had to have gotten past him and Bobby somehow and… "Sam!" Dean bucked against the weight on his back, rolling the man off. He lost his grip on his flashlight, watching it spin away and briefly highlight the ravenous face of the Sigbin. "Son of a bitch." Dean drove his fist up into Bill's face, got his knee between them and rocked him several inches up into the air with a pained grunt. Dean brought his gun back up and shoved it beneath Bill's chin and pulled the trigger. A spray of blood and brains exploded from the back of Bill's head in the strobing light from his torch to color the wall behind him as the man toppled to the floor beside Dean.

"Dean?" Bobby emerged, seeing Dean pulling himself from beneath the temporarily dead man. "Crap!" He fired three rounds into the Sigbin as it hovered just inches away from Dean's head.

"I'm ok! Find the damn pot!" Dean rolled to his knees and scooped up the flashlight as the Sigbin lurched toward the shadow of his arm. The creature's body brushed his arm as it passed and he felt pain shoot through his forearm before he grabbed the light and turned it back on the creature. He waited for Bobby to go into the next room and then started backing toward the two rooms the older Hunter had already cleared.

"That's it. Come on, Fido. Come get some." Dean briefly waved his arm in front of the light, creating a shadow the Sigbin jumped at. He used his shadow to lure the creature back and into one of the rooms. He cast his shadow along the back wall and the creature lunged for it hungrily as Dean slammed the door shut behind it. He took a brief second to eye the two bleeding holes in the arm of his jacket and then returned to the room they'd left Sam in.

Sam woke with a start, feeling himself pressed to the floor and opened his eyes to darkness and fetid breath gasping in his face. "Wha…"

"I wasn't done with you, pretty boy." Gary growled at Sam and enjoyed the shocked jerk of the body under him. "Bill's taking care of your brother as we speak. The old man won't last long after." He laughed and had little trouble pinning Sam to the floor despite his weakened attempts to throw him off. Sam gasped as Gary's hand closed around his throat. "See if we can't take a little of the fight out of you."

Sam scrabbled at Gary's face with his good hand, trying to get his thumb into the man's eye but his arm was knocked away. He felt the other man's hand running down his rib cage and bucked in sheer distress as it slid beneath his belt, cold fingers gripping at his hip. The hand cutting off his air squeezed more tightly and Sam felt the darkness of the room beginning to creep into his head. He heard his big brother's voice distantly call his name, heard a gunshot and then mercifully lost his battle to stay awake, his lungs burning with the need to take just one breath as light glared suddenly behind his closed eyes.

Dean skidded to a halt in the door and turned the lights on, squinting against the glare. The sight of Gary so intimately poised above Sam and his brother's blue lips, Gary's hand at his throat, made his blood run cold. Seeing Gary's hand emerge from his brother's jeans however, as Gary turned in surprise to face him, gave heat and rage to his blood and he fired. Gary's eyes opened wide in shock as the bullet took him high in the shoulder and threw him off his prize. Dean knew the gun wouldn't kill him and opted for a little satisfaction instead.

"You sick son of a bitch." Dean growled as he crossed the room and fisted his hand in Gary's shirt, lifting his head up. Dean drove his fist into the man's face three times before letting him drop to the concrete floor with a thud. He stood and kicked viciously into Gary's ribs before leaving him to check on his brother.

"Sam?" Dean knelt beside him and pulled Sam up into his arms. "Come on, Sam." He gave him a shake and was rewarded with a weak gasp as Sam's mouth opened slightly. Dean dropped his forehead to Sam's hair for a moment. "That's my boy."

"You can't win." Gary's voice came from behind him and Dean turned, drawing his gun to aim at the man still curled on the floor. Gary's voice was wet, blood filled from the broken nose Dean had left him with. "We can't be killed." Gary laughed and then coughed. "A matter of minutes and I'll be healed."

"Don't think so, jackass." Bobby strode into the room cradling an ornate clay pot covered in arcane symbols in one arm. Gary's eyes widened in fear as Bobby chuckled. "That's what I thought." He raised the pot up over his head. "Game over."

"NO!" Gary shouted, lurching to his feet as Bobby slammed the pot into the floor. It broke and shattered across the floor. Blood, bone and other things Dean couldn't identify spilled out along with the fragments. The Sigbin, trapped in the next room gave an ear shattering shriek and went silent. Gary cried out and then shouted again when blood exploded from his chest and head. They watched as every wound he had suffered manifested itself and the man fell backwards to land with a wet thud; finally dead. Bobby looked behind him to see the same had happened to Bill who was now a red mess in the hall.

"Sigbin?" Dean asked.

Bobby nodded. He went to the closed door, kicking it open and smiled. The creature lay sprawled by the door, bullet holes evident in its head and body; dark blood seeping out across the stone. "It's toast."

Dean sighed in relief. "Finally. How'd you know it'd kill them too?"

Bobby kicked absently at a piece of the pot. "Figured binding something as old as a Sigbin would need a sacrifice from the idiots doin' the binding." He shrugged. "Seemed logical considerin' we couldn't kill the assholes."

"Man I love it when you're right." Dean laughed softly and then looked down at Sam. "You grab the girl. She's behind the altar." He sat Sam up in his arms. "I'll get the sasquatch."

"Let's get the hell out of here." Bobby agreed and put his gun away. He knelt behind the altar and came up with the little girl cradled in his arms.

"Sammy?" Dean tapped his brother's face, hoping for a little help getting him up and out but he was down for the count. "Awesome." He stood, bringing Sam up with him and tipped the larger man over his shoulder with a grunt of strain. "How can he…weigh this much when…all he eats is those damn salads?"

Bobby laughed and led the way out of the room. He wisely said nothing, listening to Dean's labored breathing as they climbed the stairs. Outside they made a hasty retreat to the Impala, Dean sliding Sam gently into the backseat and Bobby in the passenger seat with the girl resting under his chin.

"What are we gonna do with her?" Dean asked as he got behind the wheel and pulled away from the house.

"Back to the motel and then I'll go drop at her at the nearest E.R." Bobby said. "You got things to take care of." He said with a glance in the rearview at Sam's pale face. "Probably oughta drop him there too while we're at it."

Dean chuckled. "He'd kill us." He dropped his visor against the late afternoon sun. "I'll give the M.E. a call. She wanted to see him again anyway. Check up on him."

Bobby looked over at him and then rolled his eyes at the look on Dean's face. "She's hot I take it."

Dean just chuckled. "And willing." He said cheerfully as Bobby groaned.


Sam jerked awake, a shout on his lips and struggled violently against the hands holding him down before he recognized the voice calling to him. "Dean?"

"Shit, Sam. Warn a guy." Dean rubbed his jaw where Sam's hand had collided and sat back beside him. "Nice of you to join us."

Sam looked around and saw a motel room; a different motel room and Bobby standing over them and frowned in confusion. "Where are we? What happened?"

"Bad guys are dead." Dean said happily. "So's Cujo." He nodded at Bobby. "He found the pot and broke it. Thing One and Thing Two went down with it."

Sam nodded and settled back with a sigh of relief. "Wish I'd seen it." He said with feeling and smiled.

Dean handed him a bottle of Gatorade. "Drink. Doc said you need fluids seeing as you left most of yours behind."

Sam took the bottle, taking several grateful swallows. "She was here?"

"Yeah. Put you back together and went back to work. Seems someone called in a couple dead bodies." Dean smirked. "She's gonna make sure the death certificates say natural causes." He rubbed a hand through his hair and watched Sam's face. "Now, how about you tell me why you're suddenly paranoid every time I leave the room."

Bobby cleared his throat. "I'm a…gonna go grab us some dinner." He headed for the door, not wanting to get caught in the middle of whatever problem they were having and he had an idea.

Sam scowled up at Dean. "You initiating a chick flick moment?" He laughed but let it die away when Dean only continued to stare at him. "I'm not paranoid, ok?"

"Not good enough." Dean said firmly. "I get that the whole groundhog day thing sucked but dude you haven't been this clingy since you were twelve. What gives?"

Sam looked away and tried to think of some way to weasel out of telling him but, as usual, his big brother read his face far too easily.

"Forget it. I need to know what's going on in that freaky head of yours cause it's over. The Trickster's gone, I'm alive, time aint stopped anymore so what's the problem?"

"Six months." Sam said then, closing his eyes and let out a long, shaking breath.

"Huh? What's that even mean?" Dean stared down at the miserable expression on Sam's face and knew he was missing something, had missed something important.

"The Trickster. I thought it was over, he said it was over and I let you go out to the car on your own and…" Sam couldn't help the tightening in his chest or the feeling of panic that stole over him again. "There was a shot and you were…you were dead."

"Yeah and then everything reset and I was fine." Dean shook his head but Sam grasped his arm.

"No, Dean. It was over. You…you stayed dead." Sam pushed himself up higher against the headboard. "There was no reset. You were just…gone and I wasn't there and it was my fault and…"

"Whoa. Geez, Sam breathe alright?" Dean clasped a hand behind his little brother's neck as he started to heave for air. "I'm right here. Whatever happened, it was that damn Trickster. Not you."

Sam shook his head. "I hunted him, Dean. I…was on my own for six months." He looked up and saw realization dawning in Dean's eyes. "Six months with you dead."

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed.

"I learned something in that six months." Sam shut his eyes, not wanting to see the look on Dean's face. "I don't know how to live without you. I hunted. Not just the Trickster, any damn thing Bobby could find for me and it didn't matter, Dean. I was just going through the motions. You were gone and I just wanted to find the Trickster…try and get you back."

Dean shook his head sadly, heart wrenching. "You found him though."

Sam nodded. "I…I killed Bobby. I mean…" He felt Dean jerk. "I knew it was the Trickster. I was sure and I…I'd already decided; if I couldn't talk him into giving you back I was gonna kill him and…"

"And what?" Dean asked but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he already knew what Sam was going to say. "And what, Sam?"

"Wasn't gonna stick around." Sam finished and felt the hand on his neck tighten before Dean let go and got up.

Dean paced away from the bed and back, staring angrily down at his little brother. "You stupid…son of a bitch!" Dean shouted and glared at him, watching as Sam flinched. He reigned his temper in with difficulty before dropping back to sit beside him. "You think that's what I'd want? Trickster or Hell Hounds or…or I slip in the damn shower a month early. It. Doesn't. Matter!" He shouted, spacing the last words out for emphasis. "You stay alive, Sam. You damn well fight or it's all for nothing!"

Sam stared at his big brother and knew tears were escaping his eyes at the naked pain on Dean's face. He felt humiliated to know he'd considered letting himself die rather than live. "Dean…I'm sorry." Sam said softly. "God…I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

"Obviously." Dean glared at him again. "For a college boy you can be damn stupid sometimes." He was still wrapping his own head around his little brother hunting alone for six months. It was the thought that made him want to find a way out of his deal, though he knew there wasn't.

"I won't do it." Sam said quietly. "I promise. If I can't find a way to save you from this, I won't give up." He looked up and saw some of the anger fading from Dean's face. "But I'm going to find a way, Dean. I will."

Dean sighed, seeing the quiet desperation on his face and clasped the back of Sam's neck again. "I know, Sammy." He absently wiped some of the tears off Sam's face and then scowled at him. "You didn't wreck my Baby while you were going all Rambo for six months did you?"

It surprised a laugh out of Sam and he shook his head. "No…I did clean up the trunk though."

"Excuse me?" Dean squeezed a little harder. "Clean up?"

Sam smirked even though Dean was squeezing his neck menacingly. "I just organized it."

"I'm organized!" Dean argued and scowled down at him. "There is not a damn thing wrong with my system."

Sam chuckled. "You call that a system."

Dean cuffed him lightly upside the head and stood. "When I'm gone you better take care of her and I don't mean douche her up. Organized." He groused and went to get a beer.

Sam felt the fear drop back into his stomach with Dean's comment. The deadline was too close and he hadn't found a way out for him yet. It made his heart ache each time Dean mentioned his impending death offhand. His big brother might smile and joke but Sam was sure that inside, somewhere, he was screaming.

"Lighten up." Dean slapped his foot and startled Sam from where he'd been staring at the floor. He sat on his own bed and turned the TV on. "We've got time."

Sam nodded and smiled for his brother's benefit. He eased back down into the bed, finally feeling the aches from his shoulder, arm and leg and let his eyes drift closed. The low sound of the television helped him start to drift back to sleep, he was so exhausted. As sleep tugged at him, he suddenly saw Gary's face, smelled his breath and felt his hands where they shouldn't be.

"Hey. Easy, kiddo." Dean said, suddenly beside him again. "Scoot over."

Sam took a few deep breaths, easing his racing heart and rolled carefully to the other side of the bed while Dean settled beside him; sitting up against the headboard. Sam was glad he was facing away and Dean couldn't see the tear that escaped him as his big brother's hand landed on the back of his neck again with a gentle squeeze.

"Go back to sleep." Dean said softly, the hand letting Sam know that he wouldn't be alone…at least not for a while. He'd been planning on calling Grace once Sam was asleep but now, sitting beside him and knowing how short their time was; he couldn't think of a single good reason to leave him alone. "Night, Sammy."


The End.