Sam scrabbles for the hunter's legs, but they pull away and kick harder, stomp down on his fingers, on his back, and his ribs. "Deaaan," he groans, voice strangled and clipped; for a moment, he's not sure where he is. Not sure what is happening. Something in his side snaps, and he screams, eyes bloodshot and cheek and eyelid and lip swollen big. Another stomp. More sharp fire in his body. He crawls toward Dean for a moment, tears of pain leaking with blood.
"Don't - hurt him," he slurs. A bat smashes into his eye, knocking his head to the side. Something there breaks. Somehow, he's conscious, the left side of his upper face bowing disturbingly. Somewhere in the mess of blood is an eye.
"Piece of shit," one of them says harshly, spitting on him. "He fucking did this. He let the world turn into this; why the fuck you defending him, Dean?! Because he's your brother? Guy is barely human!" A few of the other hunters look unsure. A bit horrified. They scream at Polly to leave, because she seems to not have heard them the first time. As Sam lay choking on blood, twitching, Tim wanders over to Dean and grabs his shoulder, forcing him steady to watch while the children rush away.
"See now, your brother? He had a chance to help me and my group a while back against demons. Before the Croats. But he didn't - wanted to play civilian, and my boys died. The son of a bitch wouldn't even drink down demon blood for us. Booted us out."
Sam's body shudders, and he tries again to crawl toward Dean, head sagging and blood and tears dribbling out of his eye. "Dean," he breathes, because he can't remember what he's supposed to really say. His lung is full of something. He coughs. His brother needs his help. Sam needs his brother. "Dean..."
He's sorry. He can't remember why, but he's so sorry. Emel bends down, snaking his hand into Sam's hair and jerking his head up roughly. Sam's good eye rolls, trying to focus. "You killed my family," Emel hisses.
"Don't take it wrong, Dean, but this is divine retribution," Tim says. He nods to Emel, and Emel puts his gun to the base of Sam's spine, right on the button there on his neck. Sam flails one arm, trying to grab blindly for the hand holding him up. He is barely there.
"De-" he gurgles, and then Emel shoots Sam execution-style, and Sam crumples bonelessly into the bloody grass, eye closed. Everything goes very still. A lot of the hunters step back, as if Sam were even a threat now. Or maybe they're ashamed and afraid of what they have done. Emel still looks ready to fight something.
"God save his soul," Tim says.
Emel kicks the corpse hard again, and another rib snaps.
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"Don't - hurt him," he slurs. A bat smashes into his eye, knocking his head to the side. Something there breaks. Somehow, he's conscious, the left side of his upper face bowing disturbingly. Somewhere in the mess of blood is an eye.
"Piece of shit," one of them says harshly, spitting on him. "He fucking did this. He let the world turn into this; why the fuck you defending him, Dean?! Because he's your brother? Guy is barely human!" A few of the other hunters look unsure. A bit horrified. They scream at Polly to leave, because she seems to not have heard them the first time. As Sam lay choking on blood, twitching, Tim wanders over to Dean and grabs his shoulder, forcing him steady to watch while the children rush away.
"See now, your brother? He had a chance to help me and my group a while back against demons. Before the Croats. But he didn't - wanted to play civilian, and my boys died. The son of a bitch wouldn't even drink down demon blood for us. Booted us out."
Sam's body shudders, and he tries again to crawl toward Dean, head sagging and blood and tears dribbling out of his eye. "Dean," he breathes, because he can't remember what he's supposed to really say. His lung is full of something. He coughs. His brother needs his help. Sam needs his brother. "Dean..."
He's sorry. He can't remember why, but he's so sorry. Emel bends down, snaking his hand into Sam's hair and jerking his head up roughly. Sam's good eye rolls, trying to focus. "You killed my family," Emel hisses.
"Don't take it wrong, Dean, but this is divine retribution," Tim says. He nods to Emel, and Emel puts his gun to the base of Sam's spine, right on the button there on his neck. Sam flails one arm, trying to grab blindly for the hand holding him up. He is barely there.
"De-" he gurgles, and then Emel shoots Sam execution-style, and Sam crumples bonelessly into the bloody grass, eye closed. Everything goes very still. A lot of the hunters step back, as if Sam were even a threat now. Or maybe they're ashamed and afraid of what they have done. Emel still looks ready to fight something.
"God save his soul," Tim says.
Emel kicks the corpse hard again, and another rib snaps.