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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

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