Maddison Winchester: Journal 6 {Supernatural}

6 Live Free or Twihard: Part 3

A couple hours of pacing later, Samuel finally joined us, carrying a large duffel bag. "You two can't keep track of your brother now?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I didn't think he'd just—"

Samuel sighed. "He's not himself, Sam. He's a monster, and he's hungry. You gotta be prepared to do the right thing."

"We're not killing him," I said.

"Yes, you will," Dean said from behind us. We turned to see him hunched over in the corner of the room, in the shadow. "I told you he'd kill me when he showed up."

"Did you feed?" Samuel asked, both him and Sam pulling machetes out of his bag.

Dean sighed. "I went to say goodbye to Lisa... which, for the record, was a lousy idea."

Sadness came over me. "Oh no, Dean..."

"Dean, answer the question," Samuel said sternly.

"You can relax. I didn't drink anyone," Dean said.

Samuel sighed in relief. "Thank god."

"But I came close," Dean said and stepped forward, removing his jacket. "All right. Do it."

Samuel nodded. "Okay... if you insist... or I can just turn you back."

"What?" Dean, Sam, and I asked in unison.

Samuel gave Sam a strange look and then turned his attention back to Dean. "I didn't drive all this way to kill you, Dean... I'm here to save you." He pulled a journal from his duffel bag, and we all sat at the table. Then he slid the journal across the table toward Dean. "That's my grandfather's journal. Cure's an old Campbell recipe, kind of like the soup. No one's tried it since god knows. What I hear... this stuff is a bad trip."

Dean nodded. "Awesome."

Samuel shrugged. "Hey... the cure is good. But a lot of this is on you. You drink, you're done. It won't work. I'm talking one drop of human blood—"

Dean nodded. "I got it."

Samuel furrowed his brow. "Do you? Because you will feed. It's a matter of time."

Dean slammed the journal shut. "What else do we need?"

Samuel shrugged. "Some stuff we got, some we gotta get. Trickiest thing on the list... blood of the fang that turned ya."

"That guy was huge," Sam said.

Samuel nodded. "There's nothing in the recipe about 'easy.'"

Dean stood up. "I can get it."

"You're gonna walk right into the nest?" Samuel asked.

Dean shrugged. "Well, I'm one of them, aren't I? So all I gotta do is get in there, get the guy alone, and... shoot him with so much dead man's blood that he'll think he's rushing a fraternity."

"I should come with you," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "No. Dude, you reek. You're like a walking hamburger. I gotta do this solo."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, except... we haven't been able to find him yet."

Dean put his jacket on. "No problem. I can smell him. Two miles east of town. You guys get the other crap and meet me there."

Samuel stood up. "Dean." He held out a syringe filled with blood. "It's dead man's blood. Now, there's enough there to drop a linebacker and then some."

Dean slowly took the syringe.

Samuel nodded at him. "Good luck, son."

Then Dean walked out.