Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Dean pulled himself up. He had to find Sam. He couldn't lose him now, not when they were becoming such good brothers again. And if Walt and Roy had been responsible for Sammy's death, he would kill them both, then join his baby brother. This time there was no one else. If he lost him, that was it. No more. If he didn't have Sam, then what did he have?
He pulled himself away from where he had landed, hoping he was out of sight of the police rangers that were now dotting the bridge. Typically, they were where he wanted to go. If the police left, they would, eventually, be able to make it to their motel room, figure out how to get seen to without attracting too much attention...and then deal with Walt and Roy.
Dean hobbled away painfully, his knee howling in pain as he did so. He had to find Sam. He pulled himself away from where he would be seen, the last few moments before they had hit the water replaying in his mind. Sam had seen that Walt had managed to hit one of the gasoline tanks, knowing that if they didn't get out they would either be immolated or drowned. His little brother, despite the pain he was in, had launched himself at Dean, knocking the two of them out of the truck and splashing into the water just as the fireball rippled across the area and rocks started to fall.
Sam had saved him, despite all the pain that he had been in. He had pushed Dean out of the truck before they'd hit, and by so doing ensured that they survived. He had savd his big brother's life. Which left Dean all the more anxious to find his brother. After all, he was tallr, he might have hurt himself further on the way down, or might have been caught by the blast. But what if he hadn't gotten all the way clear? What if he was now at the bottom of the lake?
Dean's lip trembled at that thought. He couldn't be dead. Sam couldn't be dead. He was around here somewhere, and he had to find him. There was no way he could be gone, or trapped at the bottom of the lake with the truck...
"Sammy, you better be alright, or else I'll kick your ass. Come on baby brother, give me a clue here!" Dean pleaded desperately, hoping his brother would hear him wherever he was.
He rounded the corner to see a network of small caves cut into the cliff face.
"Sammy! Yeah, you have to be in one of them." Dean said hopefully, hobbling quicker than he ought to have done, as he fell down and swore before picking himself back up again.
There was nothing in the first cave, but fairly, Sam wouldn't have fit in there anyway with those ridiculously long legs of his. The second cave was also empty. After the fifth such letdown, Dean was once more beginning to panic. There was no sign of Sam anywhere. He had to be around here somewhere, because he absolutely refused to believe that his little brother had been killed in the crash. There was just no way. He had to be here somewhere.
"Sammy, I swear if you're on the bottom of that lake I'm about to join you." He growled as he looked into another cave, further round the shore, and screamed as he saw something move, fearing it was a snake.
Cursing his own stupidity when he saw it was a rat, Dean backed out of the cave, the last one on the shore. If he found no sign of Sam here, he would turn himself in, and hope beyond hope that the police had found Sam.
But he couldn't escape the dark thoughts that were in his head, the sick, leaden fear that he was alone in the world and that his baby brother was gone, gone saving him, a brutal irony considering what had happened with his own deal. He couldn't be dead. Sam wouldn't have left him all alone, he knew that. Sam knew how much Dean relied on him, the one last good thing in his life, and he refused to believe his little brother would leave him here all alone. Hell, Sam knew just what that did to the remaining brother, Dean's own death had seriously screwed up his little brother, so much that he went dark. No, Sam wouldn't leave him.
Dean continued to repeat this mantra, ignoring the sick cloying fear in his stomach, and the wicked little voice that was telling him that Sam was gone. Dean forced down angry and desperate tears and entered the last cave.
And his face split into a wide smile.
There was his baby brother. Unconscious, his wet hair plastered about his face, looking incredibly pale and worse for wear, but Sam was there. However, Dean's smile faded when he realised Sam wasn't breathing.
"No, Sammy, come on..." he said, crashing to his knees, suppressing a grunt of pain in the process, and pushing on Sam's chest to empty the water.
Dean repeated the process, but there was still no sign of life.
"No, don't you dare leave me Sam!" he growled, compressing his brother's chest once more.
Still no response.
Panic was filling Dean. He had to save Sam. His brother had to wake up. Dying had been what had sent their worlds to hell in the first place, they couldn't do it again. Dean vowed to himself that he would keep going until he got a sign of life from his little brother.
He compressed again and again, but Sam still remained deathly still.
"Come on Sammy...don't do this to me. Come on ginormo, wake up. Please Sammy?" Dean begged sadly, compressing one last time, fighting the tears out of his eyes.
There was still no response, and Dean breathed air into his brother's mouth, his last desperate hope.
And Sam coughed.
Dean got off his brother as Sam sat up slightly, throwing up nearly a litre of water, and continued to spit after it had emptied his mouth, coughing and wheezing weakly. He looked up at Dean feebly when he had finished, and the next thing he knew, Dean had seized him and wrapped his arms fiercely around his little brother, holding him close, closing his eyes in relief as he held his little brother.
"Dean? You're smooshing me." Sam protested feebly, and Dean let go, smiling in delight as his very much alive little brother rolled his eyes in amusement.
"I take it I wasn't doing so good?" he asked, and Dean nodded.
"You wouldn't wake up. I kept trying to empty your lungs but it wasn't working, you weren't waking up. And if you ever scare me like that again, I'll kill you." He snarled, swatting him lightly, and Sam smiled slightly as he avoided his brother's hand.
"Again?" he asked teasingly, and Dean had to turn away to suppress the grin. It was good that they could joke about killing each other again. Not so much when he was telling Sam off for frightening him, but still.
"Yes, again, and I'll do it properly this time. How you feeling?" he asked, dragging himself further into the cave, reducing the space between him and his brother, and without preamble Sam cosied up to his brother, still spitting experimentally, his face a grimace.
"I've had better days. You?" he asked, resting his head on the back of the wall as the rest of his gigantic body leaned against Dean's, and Dean could see how tired his brother looked, how beaten up he had been, and his anger against Walt intensified tenfold.
"Yeah, I've had better days too. The police are swarming over where the crash was, so we can't make a move until later ok? But right now, Walt and Roy think we're dead. So that'll make it all the sweeter when we go after them. Or do you not want me to go after them?" Dean asked, knowing how touchy his brother got about such things, he hadn't let Dean kill Becky after she had forced him to marry her, even though he had so wanted to.
Sam glared at him.
"Dean, the bastards kidnapped me, tortured me, then kidnapped you, tortured you, tried to kill the two of us and intended to barbecue us. Of course you can go and kill them, and I'll help." Sam said savagely.
"You sure? You're..." Dean began, but Sam cut him off with an amused expression.
"What? The sweet one out the two of us? I still am, doesn't mean I'm not going to help you make them suffer for what they did to us. Besides, the techniques you learned will be nothing compared to the ones I know." He said, and Dean went ahead without thinking.
"Sammy, I was tortured by the torturer of Hell. I think I have brutal know-how covered." He said, and Sam shot him a patient look.
"And I was tortured by the master of Hell and the former master of Heaven, both of whom happen to be enormous jackasses." He explained, and Dean blushed.
"Sam, I didn't think, I'm sorry, I..." he stuttered, refusing to believe he had just implied that his stay in Hell had been worse than Sam's.
Sam waved off his apology sleepily, and leaned his head down to settle on Dean's shoulder.
"So we wait till the police get bored and head for the hospital?" he asked, and Dean shook his head.
"No, we go to the motel first. Some of our injuries can be taken care of there, and besides, I want you to get some decent drinking water." Dean said, noting the pale blue lines around Sam's mouth worriedly.
"Dean...," Sam moaned, but then started trying to spit something up again, "ok, maybe you're right. The water I swallowed when we landed tastes awful. All gasoliney." He lamented, and Dean grinned at the word Sam had just invented.
"Well to be fair, there's now gasoline, rust and blood all through it, and that's just some of the stuff we added to it. Thank you, by the way." He said softly, and Sam looked at him in confusion, his right eye opening to look at him questioningly.
"For what?" he asked, and Dean frowned a little, worried he had bumped his head in the crash.
"Shoving me out of the truck before we hit the water. You saved me remember?" he asked, and Sam nodded in realisation.
"Oh that. You're welcome. I wondered what you were talking about. Alright, before I fall asleep, what's the plan?" he asked, yawning widely.
Dean looked at the cave. It was relatively deep, and it gave them enough light to see by. They would also be in shade a lot of the day, which could only benefit the two of them after everything they had been through. Come nightfall, they could make a break for the motel, and tend to themselves, see what they could do to fix themselves. And then they could deal with Walt and Roy.
"We stay here, get some sleep, wait until nightfall. I don't want anyone seeing my gorgeous face in this state before then." He said, smiling and could almost hear Sam roll his eyes beneath his eyelids.
"Then, we start fixing ourselves up ok?" he continued, but it was too late as Sam's breathing had already slowed and he was sleeping peacefully on Dean's shoulder.
Dean smiled a little and closed his own eyes, drifting off to sleep seconds later.
It took them over an hour to travel the distance from the cave to the motel, when on a normal day, it would only have taken ten minutes at most.
They had set out after a good eight or so hours sleep, and despite the pain their bodies were in, which also had muscular pain to contribute to it now too, they were feeling a little better. Though Dean had had vivid dreams of Sam, either drowned in the bottom of the lake, tortured to death or for some reason killed in a sandstorm. Waking up immediately after the dream, he had woken Sam, who had had a perfectly dreamless sleep, and they had begun dragging themselves in the direction of the motel, which was connected to the bridge that crossed the lake. An hour later, in the cooling night, they had finally reached the road and hobbled over it, and after a tense few minutes with their room door, Dean had finally gotten them into the room.
The first order of business was to deal with any lingering effects of dehydration, so Dean, after lowering himself gingerly onto his bed, watched as Sam sipped his cup of water, and made him replenish it at least three times before he began to drink himself. He then told Sam to hold still while he went about fixing up what he could do.
Which would be a lot easier if his little brother wasn't a mess.
He started by making Sam take a long hot shower, and once he had done, Dean begin to tenderly deal with the wounds. Using one of their numerous first aid kits, he bandaged up each lost nail, making him look vaguely like a cartoon character. Unable to do much else, he put small strips of plaster on the cuts on his face before moving on to the rest of the damage. He put an ice pack on Sam's sprained ankle, knowing they would need a hospital for the broken bones, and he also gave him another ice pack to try and reduce the friction burn on his neck.
When Dean got to the lash scars on Sam's back, his hands trembled so much that he crushed the glass he was holding to give to Sam, dribbling the dregs of the water on the floor. He then attended to them, salving the wounds and cleaning them, hating the hissing sounds of pain Sam made while he did so. The same was true for the cuts on his front, and that was made worse by the fact that he could see Sam's pain filled eyes as he did so. Dean also bandaged up Sam's peeled arm, something that almost made him sick, and Sam was starting to cry with the pain as he did so. However, after that, Dean could do very little else. He had a broken pinky, a damaged knee, a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist, but aside from that he was slightly better off than he had been the day before. And that of course meant that it was Dean's turn.
And Dean wasn't nearly as patient, tolerant or accommodating as Sam had been, jerking away whenever his brother did anything after he came out of the shower. Sam quickly got exasperated but persevered, attending to the cuts and bruises, wrapping up the lost fingernails and even examined the inside of Dean's mouth to check the missing teeth. His shoulder was also dislocated, but he was in slightly better shape than Sam, other than the broken kneecap, as Sam's felt slightly less damaged. But, eventually after much patience from Sam, a lot of wincing and retreating from Dean and a death threat against Dean if he dared bite Sam's finger while he checked the lost teeth, he too was soon a lot better off.
Aside from the broken bones and their rumbling stomachs.
"But Sammy, I'm starving! Someone didn't bring me pie!" Dean wailed, smirking, knowing it would annoy his brother.
Sam gave him a mock glare, and Dean was relieved to see that the bruises around his eyes were already going down.
"Sorry. Next time I get kidnapped I'll just ask them to hold off while I deliver you your pie will I? I'm hungry too, I haven't eaten since before we ganked the ghost. But you're the one who said we should go to the hospital, so we can go there first. Then we can get food." He said patiently.
"That's provided I can still eat normal food. Why is it every time we get tortured, I lose teeth?" he asked, checking his reflection. If he couldn't get a double bacon cheeseburger with extra fries, he was going to become even more unpleasant towards Walt and Roy than he already intended.
"Count your blessings, every time something bad happens I usually get strangled." Sam grumbled, and Dean looked at his brother, slightly concerned as his eyes took in the dying friction burn on his neck.
"Yeah, remind me once we're fixed to teach you how to get out of a stranglehold." He said, more teasing than worried, and ducked when Sam threw the remote at him.
Dean winced as he finished his hair.
"There. Horribly tortured, but still ruggedly handsome." He crowed, and Sam rolled his eyes.
"Not to forget charmingly modest too." He said scathingly and Dean laughed.
The trip to the hospital was unpleasant, and it was very difficult to answer the questions the doctors put to them as to how they had come to be in the mess they were in. However, after realising that the brothers were not particularly forthcoming about how they had come to be in the state they were, they had gone about their jobs, and the two of them felt a lot better for it. Their knees would both be fine and everything else would fix itself or grow back eventually. As a result, the two of them were now sitting in the diner, Sam with a chicken salad, and Dean with a double bacon cheeseburger, which he had been relieved to find out he could eat normally as well.
Sam stroked his hair behind his ear, glad it was back to its usual way. They had both been given painkillers, and thankfully everything was becoming a lot clearer, he wasn't in pain as much anymore and his minor wounds were well on the mend.
"I still can't believe you can eat that crap. We're about to go hunting." Dean commented, as he chewed on a chip.
"I know we are Dean. But we can't do much like this anyway, we need to wait until we heal up a little. And we have to be careful, the sheriff is suspicious of us as it is, she doesn't buy our explanation that we were mugged, and I can't really blame her. Anyway, how do we intend to hunt down Walt and Roy anyway? I mean I want them dead as much as you do, but it'll be a lot more difficult to track them now that their truck is a fish retirement home." Sam cracked, and Dean grinned a little.
"Will you relax? We'll find them in due time. Look, the two assholes think we're history. My bet is, they'll be crowing to anyone and everyone they meet that the killed us. So we just follow the rumours." Dean said patiently, chomping on his burger, and Sam turned away, slightly disgusted by his brother's display.
"Dean?" he asked after a while.
"Thanks for trying to rescue me." He said quietly, and Dean grinned.
"Any time little brother. But next time we go somewhere, I'm the one going out. Every time you get sent to the store, you either get kidnapped, killed or both. Anyway, it was you who got us out of there, saved us both. We're even." Dean said, and Sam smiled.
Their bones were slowly healing, and they were finally back on the road, following the rumours of where Walt and Roy had gone. As Dean had predicted, the two of them had indeed been bragging to all and sundry about their murder of the Winchesters, and Dean hadn't liked the rumour one bit. Apparently, Walt and Roy had elaborated on the tale, to say that Sam had been begging for mercy and crying for his big brother, and that Dean had claimed he would do anything to save his brother.
While both brothers knew the latter was probably true, the rest of the rumours that Walt and Roy had fuelled had been nothing more than character assassination. Sam was endlessly amused by how personal Dean was taking the insults to their prowess, but at long last, they were on the right track. A small town built around a caravan resort seemed to be where their two would-be murderers had headed last, and Dean was confident that they would finally catch up with them. It was time to end this. No more would hunters come after them after this. And they would soon learn just how dangerous Dean Winchester could be. He had warned them, the last time, that when he came back, he was going to be pissed.
Pissed now didn't even begin to cover it. For everything they had done to Sammy, nearly killing him, they would certainly pay. And pay very dearly.
The two boys were virtually fully healed by the time they arrived in Angel Pine, though Dean's knee was still a little stiff. And on the drive there, their banter and arguing over Dean's music had transformed into something cold and deadly. This was more than what they became when on a hunt.
This was what they became when it was personal and they were out for revenge.
Stepping out of the range rover that Sam had stole to give both of their knees more opportunity to heal, they pulled into the town.
"Dean." Sam whispered as they parked, pointing to a large van much like Bobby's had been, which they had learned nearly certainly belonged to Walt and Roy.
"Good. Right, time to make ourselves inconspicuous. We need to do this right, otherwise they'll just come back and try again one day. No, they go down. I did warn them I'd be pissed." Dean snarled, and he and Sam checked into the motel that they had parked near.
After checking at the desk, Dean and Sam had found that their prey was indeed in the same motel. They had them at last. After over three weeks of chasing down every lead possible, they finally had Walt and Roy where they wanted them.
The two of them stayed in their room, listening intently all night, and sure enough, at the back of two in the morning, Walt and Roy staggered drunkenly into the motel and towards their room. Time to act.
Sam slipped out into the pitch black night, and carefully cut a tiny slash into each tyre on Walt and Roy's van. That meant that they shouldn't be going anywhere. And indeed, watching silently from their room, they saw the hungover form of Roy lamenting to the more hungover and one eyed form of Walt that their tyres had been slashed, and it would take a while for them to be fixed. They were stuck there.
After closely following the two all day, Sam and Dean finally tracked them to the bar at the edge of the town, a place they knew hunters frequented, seeing as how it was virtually on the road. Both of them clothed themselves in dark colours, and Sam pulled his hood up as part of his hoody, and the two of them entered the bar, barely attracting a glance as they did so, and sat down in the far corner, waited for their beers to be delivered, and they sat, watching as Walt and Roy regaled several other hunters with the last stand of the Winchesters.
"You should have heard him! Begging us not to hurt his little brother. 'Oh please, I'll do anything, just don't hurt Sammy, I can't bear it if you hurt Sammy!'" Walt mimicked in a childlike voice, and Roy guffawed stupidly beside him.
Sam sent Dean a warning look, and his brother simmered down, though it was clear he wanted to launch himself at the pair and kill the two of them where they stood.
"Personally, I don't see what you did that's so good." An older, rotund, moustachioed hunter commented idly.
Walt turned to glare at him.
"We took down the Winchesters! Show us some respect!" he spat angrily.
Roy glowered at the older man.
"The Winchesters were known as the best in the business. And it was us who took them down. Maybe you should remember that." He said warningly, swigging his whisky.
"Yeah, they were. And you killed them. Simply because you could." The older man said irritably, and some of the other hunters in the bar nodded.
Walt slammed his hand into the bartop.
"We killed them because they deserved it! They started the Apocalypse! You can't do something like that and think you can get away with it. We made them pay." He snarled, and a younger man shook his head in disgust.
"Yeah, they may have started it, but they finished it. Poor Sam Winchester got trapped by Lucifer himself to stop it. He sacrificed himself for the rest of the world. How the hell do you justify killing someone who did that?" he asked angrily.
"The Winchesters had it coming! How many of us are dead because of them? They killed Gordon Walker, and here you all are defending them!" Walt spat angrily, not seeming to understand why the other hunters were less than impressed with their actions.
"Yeah, but Gordon Walker brought that on himself, he became a vampire. Sam did what any of us would have done. And they didn't know about their angel friend betraying them. And he nearly killed Sam." A middle aged woman pointed out.
Over in the corner, Sam and Dean were grinning at each other. Even 'dead', their legend lived on.
"The Winchesters were the best hunters there were. They took down a hell of a lot of nasties, averted the Apocalypse, and you two jackasses go and kill them just because you could. And you didn't even give them a fair fight. You kidnap the youngest, torture him, then do the same to the oldest. That aint anything to boast over. That's something to be ashamed of." The moustached hunter growled menacingly.
"What the hell is wrong with you people? The Winchesters got people like us killed, started the Apocalypse, set Eve loose and let the Leviathans run rampant! They were virtually demonic, and here you all are praising them! We killed the bastards! The arrogant little shits who thought they were the best, but they weren't. We killed them. They made a fool of us once before, and then we killed them. We showed them who was boss. You ought to be thanking us on bended knee!" Walt roared, standing furiously.
The woman dropped her hand to her denim covered hip, fingering for her gun.
"What, thank you for murdering two well meaning kids who have done more to try and piss off evil than the rest of us combined? Thank you for torturing the two best hunters in the trade to death because of some petty feud? I don't think so. Yeah, they screwed up at times, but they always cleared up the mess. Damn good hunters, and you cowards killed them." She snarled dangerously.
"Marge is right. You didn't kill them for any noble reason. You killed them to get even with them for making a fool of you last time. You saw an excuse and took it. And now, these Leviathans that are running round, how we meant to stop them? No hunter will know. Other than those two. But wait, you killed them." The moustached one growled, and Walt and Roy looked at him incredulously.
"Not so long ago you were advocating killing them!" Roy protested.
"Yeah, but Billy didn't know then what we know now. We didn't know they were trying to fix everything, that they would fix everything. They saved the world...and then a few years later, after everything they've done, even for cowards like you, you kill them simply because you can." The youngest hunter said.
"Dean and Sam Winchester are dead! They aren't the best hunters in the world. If they were, they'd still be alive. But they're not. We killed them. I killed them. Screaming little Sammy and crying big brother Dean. I immolated them in that truck of mine they stole. They were begging for mercy all the while we had them. They were the cowards! Who the hell do you think you are, judging us? We're the heroes! The two of them, whining and crying for us to spare them, saying they were sorry. We did the right thing! Now, they're smouldering in their graves, and we're the best hunters in the world. So deal with it, and start thanking us!" Walt roared and he and Roy both drew their guns, though Roy was looking terrified as he watched Walt point his gun at the youngest.
"Get that away from Danny." Marge growled, as the other hunters in the bar all went for their guns.
"You know, I never did like you Walt. You and your little puppet Roy, who clearly has no brains and no balls. If we knew what you planned to do to those Winchester kids, we'd have stopped you." Billy said, levelling his gun.
Roy however suddenly seemed to develop a brain, and noticed that there were over twelve guns pointed at him and his partner.
"You're a psycho. Sam and Dean made a fool of you, and you wanted to get back at them, so you took any excuse. You're filthy. You're the demons here." Danny snarled, quickly drawing his own gun.
"What the hell are you talking about? The Winchesters only ever wrecked things! We saved the world by killing them! They can't endanger us anymore. So, apologise to us now, buy us a drink, and we'll forget all about it!" Walt howled furiously.
"And though they wrecked things, they also did a hell of a lot more fixing. They're the best hunters in the world, even dead. They fixed every mess they caused, and a lot of it weren't their fault, it was their damn father's, or some other power. And now who's going to fix the Leviathans? Not us, we don't know what we're doing. And they won't even bother to eat you, they'll just throw you out like the trash they are." Raman, another hunter condemned.
"We're the best hunters in the world! Show some respect!" Walt yelled, and actually stomped his foot, making Dean suppress a snigger, and Sam had to stop a laugh. And he had claimed they were pathetic. They would never lower themselves like that.
"What, for killing the Winchesters? No. That makes you the worst scumbags in the world. You went rogue. And now, you need to face the consequences." A young girl called Diamond said, her own gun pointing at the two hunters, who thought they ought to be heroes but were instead being treated like villains.
"Walt, let's get out of here." Roy said, seeing every eye in the room narrowed in hatred.
"No! We'll get what's our due! We're heroes Walt! We stopped the Winchesters, and this lot think we did a bad thing. Let me tell you about your precious Winchesters. They screamed, they begged for mercy on bended knee, all to stop us hurting them, and we killed them anyway! They were evil and deserved what they got! Fucking thank us already! We're your heroes, you should be thanking us! Why aren't they thanking us?" Walt screeched hysterically, and the entire bar was exchanging concerned looks.
"Walt, let's go." Roy intoned.
"No! Not until they admit we did what was right, that we got those kids back. They screwed us over and made a fool of us! They deserved it!" Walt protested, and Billy and Marge looked at each other and nodded.
If they didn't act, Walt and Roy would be dead soon. And not by their hand. Dean and Sam got up.
"Walt, we need to go! They don't understand like I do! Let's just go!" Roy begged meekly, tugging at his partner.
"No! We're the best hunters in the world. We're alive, the Winchesters are dead, they should be praising our name! Thank us! Admit we did the right thing, that we're the heroes who saved the world! We're the best hunters, not the Winchesters. They're dead, we killed them! Admit we're better than them!"" Walt screamed, his eye mad, pointing his gun at Marge now.
"You know, you keep saying you're the best hunters in the world. That the Winchesters are dead. That you're better than them. We might have something to say about that." Dean growled menacingly as he stood behind Walt, pressing his gun into his head.
The entire bar turned in shock as Dean stepped out of the shadows and Sam lowered his hood, and suddenly a smell emitted from Walt that made Dean wrinkle his nose. Sam then stuck his own gun under Roy's jaw, and he saw a puddle develop on the floor at Roy's feet.
"No, no, no, no! It can't be! You're dead! We killed you! I killed you!" Walt wailed hysterically as Billy happily turned him round to see his captor.
"Yeah. We couldn't resist screwing you over one last time Walt. What's the matter boys? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sam said with a smug, teasing smile, and he was gratified as both their would be killers started shaking with fear.
"I killed you!" Walt roared desperately, and Dean grinned.
"Nah, you didn't. You tortured us, yeah. But kill us, not this time. We're so much better than you. Did you tell anyone how you lost your eye? How a beaten and broken kid could take the eye of such a big bad hunter?" Dean asked in a baby voice and Walt gulped.
"Look boys, what happened, we made a mistake, we shouldn't have-" Roy protested, until Sam punched him in the mouth.
"Don't insult our intelligence. Your little hand here knew what he was doing, and so did you, his little puppet. Like Rod Hull and Emu. But you're both as stupid as each other." He snarled.
Dean gave Walt a very dangerous, very scary smile.
"Did you actually think we wouldn't come back? Did you think you could get away with what you did to us? I warned you once before. I said that when I came back, I was going to be pissed. I was. Now, I'm beyond pissed. You kidnapped my baby brother, tortured him, then did the same to me, and tried your hardest to kill us both. But you screwed it up. And now, you're going to pay." He purred, and Walt squeaked in terror.
"Please Sam, I didn't hurt you." Roy pleaded, and Sam kneed him in the groin, making him wheeze.
"Shut it. You're just as bad as he is. And even more stupid. Did you think we would let you away with what you did?" he asked simply, and the two hunters looked at each other, shivering in fear.
"Can I say how happy we are to see you boys?" Marge asked with a smile.
"See Walt? That's what the best hunters in the world look like." Billy said cheerfully, nodding respectfully to Dean and Sam.
"Thanks guys for everything. Now, us and our buddies here, are going to take a little stroll together. And once we do, you won't be seeing them again. Anyone got any objections?" Dean asked, glaring at Walt in disgusted contempt.
"Will it hurt?" Danny asked.
"Oh yes." Sam promised, giving Roy a knowing smile, and the other hunter groaned.
"Good." Danny said cheerfully.
"And if anyone else ever thinks about coming after me or Sammy, if another hunter so much as hurts a hair on his head, the same thing will happen to you. Spread the word would you guys?" Dean asked, and Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's protectiveness.
It made it a little hard to be macho when your big brother was warning everyone present not to dare hurt his brother. But Walt and Roy were both beginning to hyperventilate, the smell emitting from both of them and the two of them looking at each other fearfully, knowing that their time was running out.
"Got it." Billy said, and all the other hunters nodded.
"Good. Now, we're going to have a little chat." Dean said, indicating that Walt should move, and the one eyed hunter was crying in fear as he moved towards the door.
"Oh and thanks for all the confidence guys." Sam said cheerily, shoving Roy brutally towards the door.
"Good riddance to those cowards!" Raman said in approval.
"That Walt, is what a real hero looks like. It hasn't been a pleasure." Diamond purred, winking at Sam, who blushed a little.
"Have fun boys. Give em hell." Billy encouraged.
"Don't worry. They're about to get lessons in just how bad hell really is." Dean vowed with a snarl, and Walt and Roy both scurried outside to throw up in fear.
And as Sam and Dean followed their prisoners through the door, the entire bar burst into cheers and applause.
Sam and Dean grinned at each other, while Walt and Roy cried in terror.
"Please, we'll do anything! Anything!" Walt howled across the night air from the top of the mountain.
"No, please, I'm begging you!" Roy screamed, his voice echoing.
"I did warn you I'd be pissed." Dean snarled darkly.
"And Lucifer could also do this to me too...but you don't think that that's that bad do you? After all, I wasn't with him nearly long enough." Sam commented conversationally.
"Mercy! Mercy!" Walt howled.
"Just kill us please!" Roy begged.
"Mercy? Not from me. Not for what you did to Sammy." Dean growled.
"Oh, and a word to the wise...you want mercy? Don't kill and try to kill the person you want it from, and above all else, don't do it to their brother." Sam advised sinisterly.
The front page of the local newspaper was very interesting when Sam picked it up at the store, Dean hovering around in the beer aisle looking for a post victory six pack he and Sam could decimate later. He obviously meant that he wasn't going to let him go to the store alone anymore. He wondered how long it would be before his brother drove him crazy.
The paper read: Horribly Mutilated Bodies Discovered in Blazing Inferno Van
"Hmm, wish we'd had marshmallows." Dean commented as he saw the page, and Sam grimaced slightly.
"Hmm, thorough reporters. They mention that there were traces of salt in the cabin with the bodies." He commented, and Dean smiled.
"Yeah. Don't worry Sammy. Walt and Roy are dead. And we made sure that they will never come back." He assured his little brother, who smiled.
It was over. They were free. Walt and Roy would never endanger them again. They had deserved everything that had given them and more. And they had learned the hard way what they should have known just through myth and legend: don't piss off the Winchesters.
And best of all, no one had any idea who the victims were or who could have done it.
"You know, if Roy had a pair of balls, he might not have had to die." Dean commented, and Sam grinned at their private joke.
"Very true. Walt too." He said, and Dean left him to pay, while he went outside.
Sam picked up one last item, paid for their items and joined his brother outside.
"Here." He said, and Dean's eyes widened in delight as he saw what Sam was holding out to him.
Apple pie. And he'd bought custard too.
"Sammy, you're the best." He said happily as they climbed into the car.
"I know. But seriously Dean. Thanks, for coming after me and everything." He said, fishing in his pocket for something.
"Sammy, forget it ok? You're my brother. I was always going to come after you." He assured him, starting the car.
"By everything I meant our talk too." He said, and Dean nodded.
"Well, you're welcome." He said, eyes looking longingly at the pie he would have to wait until the next motel to eat.
"And I got you something else. Well, found it actually." Sam said, taking Dean's hand with his own and dropping something into it.
Dean looked down at his hand, and his jaw slowly dropped in surprise.
It was his amulet.
"You-you kept it?" Dean asked weakly, looking at it eagerly, hardly believing what he was seeing and Sam nodded, smiling shyly.
"Yeah. I took it out when you left the room back then. I hoped one day, you might, you know...want it back." He finished softly, and Dean grinned.
"Thanks Sammy." He said, and slipped the amulet onto his neck, and Sam finally felt like everything was the way it ought to be.
A hunt over. Pie and beer. The two brothers the happiest they had been in ages. And the amulet back where it belonged, around his brother's neck.
Their lives sucked at times.
But today, it rocked.
"Let's blow this popsicle stand. And you can even choose the music. But no Abba!" Dean warned with a grin, and Sam snorted in amusement.
"Please. I heard you this morning, singing 'Waterloo' to yourself in the shower." He said, plugging his iPod in.
"I was not!" Dean protested, but the large smile on his face made it impossible for Sam to believe he was even remotely offended by the accusation.
Dean watched his brother as he looked through his music, settling for Meat Loaf. He could cope with that he supposed. Close to rock, and not at all a bad song. Dean grinned, and resolved to hug Sam when they got to their destination for what he'd done. Smiling, he put his foot down, he and Sam both singing to themselves in the front of the car, the amulet bouncing around Dean's neck where it belonged, and Sam right beside him, where he belonged, as they streaked out of the town for their next job.
In the back seat, Bobby, also cheerfully singing along to 'Bat Out of Hell', snorted in amusement as he watched the two boys. His two boys.
"Heh. Edjits." He said cheerfully, as Dean took the car to the motorway, the three occupants of the car cheerfully singing away.
Sorry for those who were worried about Sam at first. I originally considered him just sitting in the cave, waiting for Dean, but I think Dean might have been slightly miffed if he'd done that.
A little grizzly towards the end, but all of you wanted something nasty to happen to our two villains, and so it did.
Well I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as you seemed to enjoy Demon Drink, I certainly enjoyed writing it!
Our two boys are going from strength to strength, and don't worry, I hope to be back tomorrow with yet another Supernatural story. And the enemy in the next one has already been touched upon...
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this, I know I did, thank you for all the lovely reviews and correspondences (oh for those of you wondering, Sam's hair was returned to normal after his dip in the lake, sad though it was to me), and please dont stop reviewing, so hopefully until tomorrow, please read and review, and I will see you all soon!
P.S The dream of Sam being caught in the sandstorm, you can attribute to doyleshuny, she told me about Jared Padalecki being in Flight of the Phoenix and I just bought it today