Legacy (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {3}

30. Fighting the Fog

"Come on, Sammy, we can fight this," I stammer. He plops himself down, continuing to cough violently. "Or not." Feeling a great exhaustion hit me, I slump beside my little brother, feeling my breaths becoming shallow.

Dean ignores door-sealing duty to check in on Sam and me. The panic is so clear in his eyes that it almost hurts me: "Sam! Jo! Hey! Listen to me!" The desperation grows in my older brother's voice.

"We're not gonna make it," says Sam.

"No, no, no. There's no quitting here."

"We're never gonna make it." Sam's tone holds the blankness that Deputy Harris' had.

"Sam, listen to me. That's not you talking, it's the fog."

"Is it, though?" My voice has that monotone quality. "Is it, Dean? Did we ever have a shot of beating this?"

"You were gonna choose Amara over me. Over Jo. Over everything," Sam continues.

"Guys, no!"

"Look, I'm sorry." Sam's voice sounds normal. "I didn't mean that, Dean. I can't fight this. You got to go. You have to get out before you're infected."

"You know he won't, Sammy," I whisper. "He's too bull-headed." I cough, covering my mouth as though that's gonna help at this. I chuckle dryly. "You'd choose her over us in a heartbeat. I get it, I do. What are we to her? There's a compulsive bond with her, not with us."

"Jo, knock it off. You know you can fight it, fight damn it!" Dean hisses at me.

"You think I haven't been fighting, Dean? You have no fucking idea." I smile grimly.

"Go before we hurt you!" Sam insists to our big brother.

"No, I'm not leaving you—ever!" Dean snaps.

"Like I said, bull-headed," I murmur. I find myself slumping against Sam, and I'm waiting for us both to hit the floor. Maybe we'll skip the insanity phase. Maybe the infection will kill us before we can kill. It wouldn't be the first time I've killed people who don't deserve it. Maybe I won't be that monster again.

Sam and I continue to grunt, groan, and moan in pain. Sniffling, I reach and intertwine my fingers with Sam's. If we're going out, we're going out of this together, no matter how bloody. I'm on a rhythm when I cough. I breathe, I cough. Breathe, cough. Breathe, cough. There's a rattle in my breathing.

The fog is completely overrunning the room. I can hear the others in the next room, crying out in confusion and worry. I cry silently, thinking of the little girl. My hand trembles, the black veins tattoos are on my arm.

"STOP THIS!" Dean roars at the sky. "YOU HEAR ME, YOU DICK?!"

I close my eyes. The banging and the screaming, it's all stopped. Somehow, I just know I'm on my way out. I can't explain how, I just know that I am. Maybe that's a sign, the silence, that death is close by.

"No. No." Dean sounds like his voice is coming from the other end of a tunnel. I barely feel his hand tapping my face. "Hey, hey look at me. Look at me. I'm right here. I'm right here. Okay, it's okay. It's all right. I'm right here. I'm right here. Jo, hey." His face swims in my vision when I open my eyes.

I squint away from a small bright light. It's not coming from above, but below, peeking out from one of Sam's jacket pockets. I barely lift my head up as Dean fishes out a small trinket necklace. It takes me a moment to recognize it.