*~1~*

We pulled into a motel, the cheap kind I usually stay away from. Sam looked over at me as Dean got out of the car to go inside. "You okay back there?" he asked. I had been quiet most of the ride. He obviously took that as meaning there was something wrong with me. "Ares?" He just wouldn't stop prying, would he?
"I was just thinking about what Dean said about John," I admitted. "It's a little hard to think about John making a deal with any Demon. Even if it was to save Dean's life, that's just not like him. And, what is your brother thinking? I'm pretty sure he's got some kind of inner turmoil going on since he was the reason John made the deal. Dean's got to hate himself right now." Sam nodded.
"He's not going to talk about it, either." Sam looked me in the eyes. "When he's upset, you can't tell because he hates to do that." I nodded my understanding. I knew the feeling.

"OK," Dean said when he got back to the car. "We got a room complete with an extra bed. I don't really care who sleeps where." I looked down at the roll-away cot and, in a moment of true cat-like joy, pounced on it. "I call this bed." I said. Sam looked at me. "I was going to let you have the actual bed," he said.
"I like beds closer to the floor. I sometimes change form in my sleep, and I tend to roll a lot. I don't want to fall that far," I said. Sam smiled and Dean chuckled. "You know," he said. "This is one of the few motels that do

allow pets." I laughed. I was beginning to appreciate his strange sense of humor. Sam shrugged and smiled. "OK, I'm going to sleep for a while. We've got time off, and I plan on using it to my advantage!" He collapsed on the bed and I couldn't help but notice how much sweeter he looked asleep.

I was awakened by Sam moaning and tossing in his sleep. I hadn't changed yet, thankfully, so I sat up and looked at him. He jolted upright, right before I got up to see if he was OK.
"Sam?" I whispered. "Was it a vision?"
"Yeah," he said. "Where's Dean?"
"Went out to get something to eat. And pick up a few beers." Sam started rubbing his forehead, a gesture that I would learn meant he was nervous. "I don't want to say anything til he gets back." His voice was a whisper. "I want to tell you both at the same time." I nodded. It was only fair.

A few minutes later, Dean came in and saw how pale Sam was. "Vision?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "All right, let's go." I looked up, surprised. Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I paid for last night," he said. "So, we can check out now." I nodded and picked up my black duffel bag. I threw it in the trunk and slid into the backseat.
"So, where was it?" Dean asked.
"Rivergrove, Oregon. There are only two towns in the U.S. with that name."
"How do you know it's the one in Oregon?" I asked him.
"There was a picture of Crater Lake."
"OK, what else?"
"I saw dark rooms – people, and a guy tied to a chair."
"OK, did I kill him?" Dean asked. His voice was strained. I could tell that he was bothered by that part of the vision.
"You thought there was something inside him."
"What, a demon? Was he possessed?"
"I don't know," Sam sighed. I was starting to get worried too. I had felt that Dean wouldn't just kill an innocent man, but you never know. Humans are tricky.
"Well all your visions are tied to the yellow-eyed demon somehow. So was there any black smoke, did we try to exorcise it?" Dean was getting agitated, and I tactfully kept my mouth shut.
"No, no, nothing. You – you just plugged him, that's it." There was an uncomfortable silence afterward. I could feel the tension rolling off the two, so I sat back. I didn't want to get in the middle of this.
"Well I'm sure I had a good reason." Dean kept his eyes on the road. He didn't want to look at anyone, and I could tell that he was bothered. Not because I was in the car; they had gotten used to that. He was bothered because--well, I'm not sure why he was so bothered.
"I sure hope so," I muttered. Dean looked back at me for a moment before turning back to the road. "What does that mean? I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man." He was being defensive. I liked that better than the silence that usually lapsed between us all. "I wouldn't!" he added for emphasis.
"I never said you would," I said a little defensively. "Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair is part of it. So let's find him, and find out what's what." Dean and Sam nodded. "Fine," they both said in unison. I almost laughed. Typical brotherly argument. "Thanks for taking my side," Sam said to me.
"I wasn't taking sides," I said. "I was making a point."

*~2~*

We pulled into the town, and Sam pointed to a sign. "That's one of the signs in my vision," he muttered. I looked at it. Something told me that our lives wouldn't ever be the same after today.
We parked alongside the sidewalk, and there was a man sitting on his porch with a fishing rod. It looked like a Shakespeare Durango, to me, but I'm not the best fishing rod judge. Sam nodded in his direction. "He was there," he murmured to us. Dean nodded and we headed over to him. Dean and Sam looked a little like Marshals, or even cops. I didn't. I looked like an army brat with my camouflage pants, black T-shirt, and combat boots. My black hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, and I only wore a simple gold chain with a golden locket on it. The locket held a picture of my mother and sister, but no one would ever see it.
"Can I help you?" the man asked us.
"Uh, yeah. Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, and Danielle Parsons, US Marshalls," Dean replied, pulling out his fake badge.
"What's this about, Marshall?" he asked Dean.
"We need your help in locating someone," I said.
"Early twenties," Sam said, thinking back to his vision. "With a thin scar right below his hairline."
"Huh, what did he do?" the man asked us. That took me by surprise. "Nothing," I said. "We're actually looking for someone else, but we think he could help us out."
"He's not in any kind of trouble. Not yet," Dean said, and then noticed a tattoo of a coat of arms on the man's arm. "I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant." The man gave Dean a funny look, then he explained. "My dad was in the same corps. He was a Corporal."
"Can you help us?" Sam asked.
"The only person I know with a scar like that is Dwayne Tanner, and he keeps his nose clean."
"I'm sure he does," Dean said. "Do you know where he lives?"
"He lives with his family that way, about two blocks down," Sarge, as I began to know the man, said.

We walked back to the car, and I bumped into a telephone pole. I nudged Sam and pointed to the pole. "Croatoan," Sam said. He looked at Dean who had a vacant look in his eyes. "Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring any bells?" Dean continued to look lost.
"Did you pay any attention in history class?" I asked. "Roanoke was one of the first American colonies in the late 1500s."
"Oh yeah yeah yeah. I do remember that," Dean said. "The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan." I nodded. "Hallelujah, the man has a brain," I said. Dean shot me a dirty look, and I winked back at him.
"Yeah. There were theories, Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone. Wiped out over night," Sam said.
"You think that's going to happen here?" I asked him.
"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good," he replied. "But what do you think could do that?"
"Well like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the yellow eyed demon somehow," Dean sighed. "We might need some help on this."
"Uh, Bobby? Ellen maybe?"
"That's a good idea," Dean said pulling out his cell. "Damn," he said, flipping it shut. "No signal."
Sam and I both pulled out our cells. They were newer, so I figured we'd get one. No luck. "We don't have one either," Sam said.
Dean tried a pay phone nearby, but still nothing. "I'll tell you one thing," Dean said, "If I was gonna massacre a town? That'd be my first step." That creeped me out a little.


When we got to the Tanners' place, Dean knocked on the door. I had changed into some black slacks, so I'd look a little more like a Marshall. A younger guy answered the door, and I figured he was Dwayne's brother. He looked a little like the guy that Sam described, just younger and minus the scar. We held up our badges, and Dean took over the conversation as usual. "Does Dwayne Tanner live here?" he asked.
"Yeah, he's my brother," the guy said.
"You think we could talk to him?" Dean asked.
"He's on a fishing trip right now," he replied.
"Well, are your parents home?" I asked.
"Yeah, they're inside." After he said that, an older man walked up behind him.
"U.S. Marshals," I said quickly. "we're looking for your son, Dwayne."
"He's not in any trouble is he?" his father asked. He had a look of worry on his face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I found that a little weird.
"No," Dean said. "We just need to ask him a few questions."
"Do you know when he'll be back from his fishing trip?" Sam asked. I could tell from his voice that he didn't like their act either. The man shakes his head. "I'm not sure," he said.
"Well, maybe your wife knows," I said.
"Oh," Mr. Tanner said. "I don't know. She's not here right now." I raised an eyebrow. "Your son said she was," I pointed out.
"Did I?" he said, smiling. OK, I'm not a genius or anything, but this was getting really

creepy. "She's out getting groceries," Mr. Tanner said. "So, when Dwayne gets back, is there a number I could get back to you?"
"We'll just check back later," Dean said. We went down the steps, and Dean turned to us as the door closed. "Did that seem creepy to you?" he asked. "A little too Stepford?"
"Big time," Sam answered. We headed around the side of the house and quickly crouched down, creeping along over to a window. Inside, Mrs. Tanner, I guessed, was tied to a chair and gagged. "It's OK, Mom," I heard the younger Tanner say. "It won't hurt." We watched as Mr. Tanner pulled out a knife and cut his arm. We stayed in position a little longer, then moved to the door. Dean kicked it down, and Mr. Tanner came at him with the knife. I shot him quickly, and the younger Tanner jumped out the window. Sam followed, and I guess he got away since I didn't hear a gunshot.

*~3~*

We pulled up to a clinic in town, and Sam led Mrs. Tanner inside. Dean went to the trunk and I followed Sam. I knew this case was bothering him, and I wanted to keep an eye on him. A young nurse came to the front to help us. "What happened?" she asked.
"She was attacked," Sam explained. The nurse nodded and called out, "Dr. Lee, we need you in here!" A young, female doctor came into the front of the clinic just as Dean was entering. He had Mr. Tanner slung over his shoulder. "Was he attacked as well?" she asked Dean.
"Actually, he was the one that did the attacking," Dean said. "I had to shoot him."
"You shot him?" Dr. Lee said. "And you are?"
"U.S. Marshall. I'd show you my badge, but," he gestured to the dead body over his shoulder.
"Right, sorry. Bring him back here," the doctor told him. Dean followed her. I looked at Sam, who had given Mrs. Tanner over to the nurse. "Things just get better and better, doesn't it?" I asked. He sighed. "I just hope this is the end of it," he said. "If it gets any worse, we're probably screwed." I nodded. He was right, of course. We had no way to get in touch with Bobby or Ellen, or even Ash. Ash was a genius, who could figure this out with no problem. Bobby and Ellen may have seen something like this before, since they were more experienced than us.

We went into one of the rooms where Dr. Lee and Mrs. Tanner were. "You said Jake helped him?" the doctor asked Mrs. Tanner. "Your son Jake?" Mrs. Tanner nodded. "They beat me. And tied me up," she told the doctor. Her face was tear-streaked, but she came off as a lady that would bake cookies or cake when she knew someone was coming to visit. She was a short, plump woman with a kind face and bright eyes.
"Mrs. Tanner, do you have any idea why they would do this?" Dr. Lee asked her. Any history of chemical dependency?" Mrs. Tanner shook her head. "No, of course not," she said. "One moment they were my husband and son, and the next it was like they had the devil in them." Dean shot us a Look, and I nodded almost imperceptibly. Mrs. Tanner and Dr. Lee wouldn't catch what the movement meant, but Dean and Sam would.
"I need to speak to the two of you," Dean said to Sam and me. He led us into another room. "Those guys were whacked out of their gourds," Dean said. I nodded. "What do you think?" I asked. "Multiple Demons? Multiple possessions?"
"If it is a possession, there could be more," Dean replied. "Of course that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside."
"I don't know, man," Sam said. "We didn't see any black smoke with Tanner, or any of the usual signs of possession."
"Well whatever. Something turned him into a monster." Dean turned to look back at Sam. "And you know if you would've taken out the other one, we'd have one less to worry about."
"I'm sorry, all right? I hesitated. It was a kid!

" Sam said.
"No, it was an it. Not the best time to have a bleeding heart, Sam." Before I could get a word in, Dr. Lee came into the room. "How's the patient?" I asked.
"Terrible!" she said. Anger and worry swirled together in her eyes. "What the hell happened out there?"
"We don't know," Dean said.
"Yeah, well you shot my next door neighbor, you know." Yeah, she was agitated, and I understood that. She was human, and she was shying away from something that she didn't understand. Typical, if you ask me.
"We need the county sheriff and the coroner here," she sighed.
"We know, but the phones are down," I pointed out.
"I know. Don't you have a police radio in your car?"
"Yes, but it's not working right either," Dean said. Nice save, Dean,

I thought. She nodded. "How far's the next town?" Dean asked.
"About forty miles up the main highway," Dr. Lee replied.
"All right, I'll go see if I can get some help and my partners will stay here to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" she asked.
"Let me get back to you on that," Dean replied after a moment. I suppressed a smile. I liked that answer. It was honest without telling her the whole truth. Because we didn't

know what we needed to keep them safe from.

*~4~*

Sam and I stood in one of the blood labs, looking at Mr. Tanner's body. Sam's eyes met mine and I shook my head. Dr. Lee was looking at a blood sample. "Hmm," she said. "Looks like Mr. Tanner was fighting off a viral infection."
"What kind of virus?" I asked.
"I don't know, that's the problem."
"Can an infection cause someone to act like that?"
"Not that I've ever heard of. I know some to cause Dementia, but not outright violence. I've never seen one do this to the blood either."
"Do what?" That had piqued Sam's interest.
"It leaves this weird residue," she replied. "If I didn’t know better, I'd say it was sulfur." I looked at Sam and motioned for him to follow me into the hallway. He shut the door behind him.
"OK, that's really weird," he admitted. I nodded and looked at the window behind him. "I've heard that the Demons are getting stronger," I said. "Maybe this is their new way of possession, that infects the victim instead of them having to be in the body."
"I don't know. It just seems too far-fetched to me."
"I know. But it could happen, right?"
"I'd have to ask Bobby or Ash, but we can't right now. Not with the phones down."
"I know. That's what's worrying me. What if this does

get worse, Sam?"
"I won't let you get hurt, Ares, I promise." I looked him in the eyes, and his hazel eyes had a look of determination in them. There was another emotion that I could sense, but I wasn't sure what it was. Affection, maybe?
We go back into the room where Mrs. Tanner and Dr. Lee are. "I don't understand," Mrs. Tanner said. "Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Dr. Lee said. "Now, during the attack, do you remember, did you have any direct contact with their blood?"
"Oh my God. You don't think I've got this virus, do you?"
"Beverly, I don't know what to think," Dr. Lee sighed. "Now, with your permission, I'd like to take a blood sample to make sure." Beverly nodded and Dr. Lee reached for her wrist with a hypodermic needle in her hand. She suddenly began to scream and threw the doctor aside, then threw Sam aisde as well, amazingly strong. She came at Sam again with a pair of scissors but I hit her over the head with a fire extinguisher, and she was knocked out. I smirked at Sam. "You owe me now, kid," I said. He smiled and let me help him up.
In the Waiting Room, the nurse began to pace and get nervous. "What if we all go crazy?" she asked.
"We just have to wait and see," Dr. Lee assured her. "I'm sure the rest of us are fine. Besides, the Marshal is bringing help, OK?"
"No, I can't, I've got to go," she said, starting for the door. I moved quickly and stood in front of the door. "Pam," the doctor began.
"No, you don't understand, my boyfriend's out there, I've got to make sure he's okay," she said, and keeps going. Sam touches her arm. "Just wait," he said. "I know you're upset, but it's safer if you stay here for now. Help is coming." Just then, we heard the Impala's engine. "Look," I said. "There they are." Pam gave me a pleading look, but sat down.
"Sammy? Open up!" Dean called from outside. I opened the door, and Dean and Sarge came in. "That's all?" I asked. "Where's the sheriff and the coroner?"
"Hey, he's the only sane one out there!" Dean was defensive, and that was OK with me. I would rather have him be defensive than oddly humorous. "What are we dealing with, do you know?" Dean's question caught us both off guard. I decided to take over then. "We're not sure," I admitted.
"Dammit, Ares. How can you not know?"
"The doc thinks it's a virus." Sam took over before I lost my cool, thankfully.
"OK, what do you think?" Dean turned to Sam, questions in his eyes. He could tell that Sam and I were already starting to work as a team, and maybe he was threatened by that. He had to know that one day, we'd each have to find our own partners. We were all destined for death one day or another.
"I think she's right." I let a sigh escape me with the sentence.
"And we think that the infected are trying to spread it by blood-to-blood contact." Sam let the revelation hang in the air. Dean swore under his breath, but I caught a few words that I choose not to repeat. It's not in my code to say that.
"Oh – but it gets better. The virus leaves traces of sulphur in the blood." Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean. "A demonic virus? What the hell, Sam?" We both shrugged. "It would

explain why I had a vision about this town," he said. I nodded. Sam had a point and Dean couldn't argue with it.
"How far do you think something like this can spread?" Dean asked us.
"I don't know, but Sam and I agree that there's no limit to this virus. It's not a normal virus that a doctor can help you fight off. It just pops up and makes you go all Texas Chainsaw Massacre on people." Dean laughed at my comparison. It was a poor joke, but any kind of joke was a relief in our situation.
"HEY!" Sarge called from another room. "We've got another one in here!"

*~5~*

We run into the room where Sarge is. "What the hell do you mean?" Dean's expletives were starting to annoy me, but I didn't say anything. He was probably just venting his frustration; we all were.
"The wife. She's infected." Sam looked away from Dean. I laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, and nodded at Dean.
"We've got to do something about this." Sarge interrupted our silent exchange with the obvious statement. "My neighbors were strong. Crazy strong.The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Pam, the nurse from earlier, paled. She had calmed down, but now she was getting antsy again when she saw Dean pull out his gun. "You're gonna kill Beverley Tanner?" Her voice was high-pitched and hurt my ears.
"Is there a cure?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. "The doc doesn't know." Sam moved towards the door of the room that he had locked her in and opened it. She was huddled in a corner, and looked at Sarge with eyes that reminded me of a doe right before the wolf rips into it. It made my chest hurt, and I turned away.
"Mark, what are you doing?" she cried. "Mark, they locked me in here, it's them that are infected. Mark, please!"
"You sure she's infected?" Mark was hesitating, that much was apparent. Sam nodded. Dean, in anger, pushed past him and shot Beverly. I flinched a little. To me, it felt like murder, even though I knew she'd try and infect all of us if she had the chance.


Sarge, who we now knew was actually Mark, was looking through the blinds in the waiting room. "They're out there, waiting."
"For what?" I asked. He shrugged. Pam was walking by with some vials of blood. She dropped one and began to freak out. "Is it on me? Am I infected?" I looked her over and shook my head. "You're fine. Just be careful, OK?" She nodded at me.
"Why are we staying here? Please let's just go," she said.
"Do you want to get infected?" I was shouting and getting angry. "Those things are out there, just waiting for one of us to make that mistake. If you go out there, you're as good as dead."
"She's right about one thing," Sam pointed out. "We can't stay here, we've got to get to the roadhouse, somewhere. Let people know what's coming."
"How?" I raised an arm to the window. "Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty, you know. So, what? We just go out there with our guns? Our ammo will run out, and I can't use my only weapon in front of people, Sam."
"We ain't got a choice." Mark's voice made my head snap around to the window where he was sitting. "A lot of people up here are good with rifles, so we're easy pickings. Unless you people have explosives or something, we're just out of luck." That makes me point to the shelves of alcohol and other chemicals. "We could rig up some explosives."
Banging on the door interrupts my train of thought. I hear muffled screaming. "Let me in! Please!" Mark looked at Dean, then opened the door. A young man, the one that Sam described, stumbles into the clinic. "Dwayne? You OK?" Mark took over. He acted like the sergeant that he had tattooed on his arm.
Dean looked at Sam. "That's the guy I-uh," he made a gesture of slitting a throat. Sam nodded.
"Does anyone know where my mom and dad are?" A silence ensued. "Awkward," Dean muttered. I looked at the kid and pointed to a gash on his arm. Dr. Lee had come back into the waiting room and noticed it too. "Where did you get that?" Her voice had an edge to it. Like she didn't want any more of those things in her clinic. I couldn't blame her. I didn't either.
"I must have fallen and cut myself." Dwayne's voice jolted me back. I drew my gun and held it loosely at my side. It was loose enough not to be threatening, but in a good enough grip to shoot in a few seconds.
Dean looked at Mark. "Tie him up." Dean was being commanding, almost like his father. I glanced at Sam, who was paling more and more as the moments ticked by. "Wait." Dwayne started to protest, but Dean aimed his gun at him. "Did they bleed on you?"
"What? NO!"
"Doc, is there any way to tell?" I tried to diffuse the situation as quickly as I could, but what the doctor said next squashed all hopes of that. "With Beverly's blood work, the virus took about three hours to incubate. I wouldn't know unless he's been exposed more than that."
"Dean, Ares, I need to talk to you. Now." Sam was strained, his eyes darting around the room. We followed him into a doctor's office in the back. "My vision, Dean, it's happening."
"Yeah, Sam, I figured."
"You can't kill him, alright? Not yet. We don’t know if he's infected or not." I stepped in between them. It made me realize how tiny I was compared to the both of them. It was a little intimidating.
"Oh I think we're pretty damn sure," Dean argued. "Guy shows up middle of nowhere, got a cut on his arm, whole family's infected?"
"Alright, then we should keep him tied up and wait and see." I was trying to be the voice of reason, but the look in Dean's eyes told me he was determined to get his way. "For what? For him to Hulk out? Try to infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." He started to walk past Sam, but Sam stopped him. "Hey look man, I'm not happy about this, alright? But it's a tough job, you know that." Dean was trying to keep his voice to a low growl, but it was rising in volume. Fast.
"It's supposed to be tough, Dean!" Sam was yelling. I looked anxiously at the door, trying to say that we needed to be quiet. "We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point!"
"Really? What does that buy us, Sam?"
"A clear conscience for one!"
"It's too late for that and you know it. Why do you think Ares isn't arguing? She knows that it's too late for us to have a clear conscience." He started, again, to walk back into the waiting room. "Dean, what the hell's happened to you? You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell you know, you're acting like one of those things out there." Dean pushed past Sam, and left the room, locking both of us in the office alone. We could see what was going on in the waiting room, and I could hear everything. Walls mean nothing to a Skinwalker's hearing.
Dean went into the waiting room, his gun drawn. Dwayne was in a chair, tied to it. "No, you can't," he pleaded. "It's not in me!"
"Doc, do you know?" Dean demanded.
"I don't know, Marshal. I can't tell."
"Dr. Lee, please. Don't let him do this! It's not in me!"

He raised the gun again, saying "I got no choice." Dwayne continued to plead with Dean, and Dean's finger pressed the trigger a little, but he didn't pull it. "Dammit," he said, he couldn't do it. A sigh of relief escaped my lungs. I glanced back at Sam, who's face had regained a little color. "Thank God," I heard him whisper.

*~6~*

While we were sitting at a table, making the explosives, Dean asked me again how the ratio was supposed to work. "Look," I said, picking up a bottle with a red marking. "You use half of this, and half of the one with the orange marking. Then, take this gauze and dip it halfway into the alcohol. After that, you put it into the mixture and make sure part of it's in the mix."
"What's that supposed to do? The gauze, I mean."
"It makes a fuse. That way, we can light it and get the hell out of Dodge." Dean nodded and began to work. Dr. Lee came into the room at that moment. "It's been over four hours and Dwayne's still clean. If it's OK with you, I'd like to untie him now." Dean looked over at Sam, who nodded. "Yeah," I said. "That's OK." She left as Dean turned to Sam. "I'm gonna go apologize to that kid. I feel bad for trying to kill him."
"You did what any of us would have done, Dean." I kept my eyes on my work. It didn't help the fact that the room felt stifling to me. The tension was killer, let me say now.
When Dean left, Sam looked at me. "You know, I've been meaning to tell you this, but I'm not sure how to."
"What? That you hate me? Save it. I know."
"That's just it. My feelings are the opposite. I, uh, love you." I almost dropped the bottle I was holding. Part of me wanted to kiss him then and there, but the other part was screaming "WHAT. THE. HELL?!" Instead, I took the high road and let my eyes wander up to his face. "You can't mean that," I muttered. "I'm just a low little Skinwalker."
"But you're the most noble, determined person I know."
"Why are you even bringing this up? I'm not even an actual person!"
"Because I have to prepare for the worst. What if one of us gets infected? I want you to know that before it happens." My eyes began to water. That was so sweet of him. I usually didn't let people in like that, but I knew Sam was different.
"We need more alcohol," I said to diffuse the tension. Sam stood up. "I'll go get it." He moved to the door and I nodded. The room was just outside the one we were working in, so I could still keep an ear on him.
I heard him say, "how are you holding up, Pam?"
"Good," she replied. "It'll all be over soon." She closed the door behind Sam and locked it. I jumped up to go to the door. "In fact, I've been waiting for this the whole time. To get you alone." She suddenly jumped on Sam, and then cut his chest with a knife, then cut her hand, and pressed her hand on his chest. Dean broke in and shot her. Sam held out his hand for Dean to help him up, and Dean moved forward, but Mark stopped him. "She bled on him. He's got the virus."

*~7~*

I look in Sam's hazel eyes and pain is reflected back at me. I sighed and slumped against the wall. So this is what it felt like to lose someone you loved. I screamed internally at every god in the heavens that this was unfair! How could they give me Sam and then just pull him back like that?! It was stupid!

"Doc, check his wound again, please." Dean was pacing and I was sitting next to Sam holding his hand. I leaned on his shoulder for support, but I still felt like the floor was dropping out from underneath us and swallowing us into the pit of hell.
"Why?" Mark stood and let his angry voice ring out through the room. "We saw what happened. You know what has to be done!"
"No one's shooting my brother, got it?"
"It's not gonna be your brother much longer." Dwayne's voice made me jump. I had forgotten he was there.
"Nobody's shooting anybody!" Dean's voice rose in volume.
"You were gonna shoot me!"
"And if you don't shut your pie hole, I still might!" Dean jabs Dwayne in the chest.
"Dean." Sam's voice broke as he said his brother's name. "They're right. I'm infected. Just gimme the gun, I'll do it myself."
"No. Forget it. Ares, help me out here!" I couldn't speak. My whole body seemed frozen.
"Dean, I am not

becoming one of them."
"Sam, we've still got some time." Dean was becoming desperate, as was I.
"Time for what?" Mark's voice actually scared me a little. Everything seemed so much louder than it was. "Look, I know he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But I gotta take care of this." He pulled out a gun. Dean stopped him. "I'm gonna say this one time. You make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me?" No one answered. Not even me. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Dean suddenly took his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Mark. "Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there, you two go with him. You've got enough fire power to handle anything now."
"What about you?" Dr. Lee asked him. Dean didn't answer her. Sam stood up and looked at Dean. "Dean, no, no, go with them," said Sam. "This is your only chance."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Sammy."
"He's right, come with us."
Dean doesn't move. "Okay, it's your funeral," he said, and they left. I refused to move from Sam's side as well. The doctor stops before she leaves. "I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, Marshalls."
"Uh, we're not really Marshalls. Sorry." Dean gave her a small smile.
"Oh." She left us, and Dean locked the door behind her. He turned around back to Sam. "I wish we had a deck of cards, and a fooz ball table or something."
"Dean, don’t do this. Just get the hell out of here."
"No way." He sat down across from Sam in a chair. He was determined to stay, and I had to admire that.
"Gimme the gun, and leave," Sam ordered, starting to cry. That made me cry, but my crying was silent. I hated this. I hated this whole stupid Hunt. "For the last time, Sam, no." Sam slammed his hand on the table. "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done." Dean made a face. "I don’t know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?" He shuddered. "Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."
"No?"
"No, you can keep going." Dean was silent for a moment, then he shocked both of us by saying, "who says I want to?"
"What?" I managed to choke out that one-syllable word. Being a Hunter was a lifestyle that, while it's not glamorous, is something that we can do to help people.
"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job… this life. This weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it," Dean admitted. I knew what he meant; the weight of it all can crush even a Skinwalker like myself. I could only imagine what it was doing to a mere human like Dean.
"So," I said. "You're just going to give up? You'll let countless people die because you're "tired" of the job? It doesn't work like that, Dean. If this is about what John did--"
"It's not," he cut in. "This has nothing to do with my dad. This is about me and the job. What Dad did was stupid, I'll admit to that, but this has nothing to do with his choice."
"Then what is this about?" Dean had no time to answer me. The outside door opened, and I prepared to shift into my animal form.
There was a knock on the office door, and the doctor stepped in. "I have something I think the three of you need to see," was all she said before walking out of the room. Outside it was silent. "There's no one, not anyone. Not anywhere. They've all just – vanished," she told us. I shot Dean and Sam a look. One that said "What the hell is going on here?"

*~8~*

Inside the clinic, we were all sitting around a table while the doctor examined another of Sam's blood samples. "Well," she said. "It's been five hours, and your blood is still clean. I don't understand it, but I think you dodged one hell of a bullet."
"But, Dr. Lee," I pointed out. "He was exposed. How can he not be infected?"
"I don't know, honestly. I mean, compare it with the Tanner samples…" She looked through the microscope. "What the hell?"
"What?" asked Sam.
"Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulphur, nothing."


Later that same night, Mark and the Tanner kid decided to head out. They were heading somewhere south of there. "You should come too," Mark said to Dr. Lee. She shook her head. "I'd love to," she said. "Really, I would. But I have to report this to the authorities; not that they'll believe me."

Impressum

Texte: NO CHARACTERS FROM SUPERNATURAL ARE MINE! ONLY ARES!
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 13.04.2012

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Widmung:
To all those that have continued to read my books. I owe it all to you! Also, to my mother, who has supported my writing with her kind and gentle criticism. Thanks from Nikki!