Demon Blood: A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 22: The Final Countdown

"Sammy?"

Dean dropped to the ground beside Mallory as if all his muscles had failed him. Sam was just there, so vulnerable, and though there was no outside damage, who knows what could have happened on the inside?

He shook his brother once, twice, three times. Mallory grabbed Sam's cold wrist and felt for pulse, felt desperately for anything-

None.

She looked at Dean like the world was falling apart, and perhaps it was. And one look back into Mallory's deep eyes told Dean all he needed to know.

"No," Dean muttered, tapping Sam's face, his chest, trying in one last desperate attempt to wake his brother up and get out of this discomforting place. "No, no no no. Sam!"

All the weight on Dean's back that had lifted during the spirited banter of the trip came crashing down upon him. "Dammit," he growled. "I'm going to murder that son of a bitch and I'm going to have fun doing it."

It was a mask of toughness, Mallory knew. She could hear the break in his voice and see the shattered look in his eyes.

"He's not dead," A deep voice suddenly rang out behind them, making them both turn around sharply.

Onith stood in the center of the barn. The way he was positioned made him look like a giant among shadows, and the light in the barn was slowly fading to a burnt-out-lightbulb feel.

"What?" Dean said quietly.

"I said, Sam's not dead. Barely alive, yes, but certainly not dead." His smile didn't quite fit his face.

The door burst open a final time and Reyna ran in, looking frantic. "There's smoke everywhe- oh dear god, what just happened?"

She took in Onith taking up the majority of the room with his presence, Mallory and Dean sitting blankly on the side, and the brown jacket on a body which could only be Sam. Gesturing to him, she asked, "Wait, is he dead?"

Onith turned to her, the unnatural grin growing crazier. "I was just about to explain to your friends that no, he is not. He is being held together, barely, by just a tiny amount of my power." He spread his hands and Sam started to thrash, letting out a small groan of pain. As soon as he stopped, though, Sam returned to the comatic state.

Dean's face slowly contorted into one of rage as he got to his feet, clenching his wrists. "You had better let him go, or I am going to make the rest of your life worse than Hell."

"Ah," Onith grinned, "I thought you might say that. Well, you see, your brother is surviving only because I am using my power. If I were to, let him go, as you say, our dear Sam would sadly be dead for good."

Dean glanced at his brother, clenching his jaw. After what seemed like forever, Onith's attention fixed curiously on him, he stalked over and punched the demon in the jaw.

"What did you do to him?" he hissed.

Onith laughed. "Good, boy, get out your anger. It nourishes the soul."

Biting his lip, Dean lashed out again, catching the demon on the eyebrow and then again on the nose.

"Dean!" Mallory called frantically. Dean hardly even glanced at her as he nearly jumped on Onith, hitting knuckle against flesh over and over again.

Mallory leaped up from where she was sitting and pushed herself between Dean and Onith. "Dean Winchester!"

Dean stopped angrily at the use of his last name. "What?"

"Look," she breathed, pointing at Sam's body in the hay. "Look what you're doing to him."

A brilliant bruise had blossomed along Sam's jawline, right where Dean had been hitting Onith. On the other hand, Onith looked completely unfazed.