25. "Let 'Em Come."

Maybe I should've stayed with Sam. He was there for me. He rushed me to the hospital as I bled out. I should be there for him.

My mind is very distracted right now as Dean and I collect wood by torchlight in the woods. I'm waiting for that fire to burn up a tree and start a forest fire or something.

My brother and I work desperately, time feels like it's against us. My limbs aren't working as fast as I want them to, even if they're at their top speed. It's not enough. It's not fast enough. Sam's patched up, but he's lost so much blood.

I glance at Dean, who's working just as fervently as I am. A branch catches a part of his jacket.

"Get off me!" he shouts at the tree, swinging wildly. I stop my wood gathering and look at my older brother. His body is shaking, and I can see he wears the same fear and desperation on his face as I do right now. We know there's a lot at risk. The time feels like it's crushing us and winning.

"Hey," I say gently, moving around the pile and touching his shoulder. "We got this." I'm having a hard time swallowing the huge lump in my throat.

Dean inhales a big breath. "Okay. Okay. Okay."

I clap Dean on the back and resume the collection. But as I go back and Dean continues to collect more wood, I hear the familiar noise of tires. "Dean," I hiss quietly. He's stuck in work-mode that he doesn't hear me. "Hey." I have to jump in front of him to stop him. He glares at me severely.

My mouth parts as I see past Dean, see the headlights of the truck. I turn my brother around, and he puts out the torchlight, plunging us into further darkness. It still looks like it's far away, but it looks as though it's heading for the cabin. Sam.

Wordlessly, Dean and I abandon our pile and run back for the cabin. Corbin, Michelle, Sam. They're sitting ducks. Michelle and Corbin are useless against werewolves, and Sam's too weak to fight any of them off.

Knives are stabbing my stomach from the inside. I don't want to be sick, I want the painful dread to go away.

I'm the first to the door, and I get it open.

"We got to go," I say urgently. But I stop as I take in what I see.

Sam is unconscious on the floor. At least, I want to believe he's just unconscious.

"Sam?" I panic. "Sammy?" Dean and I rush to our brother's side, Dean feels for the pulse. "What happened?" I look at Michelle and Corbin.

"I...I...I don't know," Corbin stutters. "He just went."

"No," Dean denies. "Sammy?" He gently shakes our brother's body. Sam doesn't stir.

My heart is squeezing tight with pain, and my throat is becoming sore. My vision is already blinded with tears. "Sammy, please." No. We can't lose you. You can't do this to me, Sammy. I know I didn't mean to do it to you, please don't do this to us.

My heart skips a beat when I hear the truck from before. It's getting closer.

"No," Michelle moans, "no, no."

Corbin hugs his wife. "It's them."

Dean pulls a knife from its sheath. "Let 'em come."

Right now, I'm on a delay. My killer instinct isn't coming out so quickly. I'm glad Dean wants to kill the werewolves. I do too, but the desire to is buried under my grief.

"No," Michelle says. "What?"

"He wants to stay," says Corbin.

"No, you can't!"

"Hey, hey, you stay, you fight, you die. And so do we. Look...he's gone. I'm sorry, but he's gone. Help us. Please."

I look at Dean, lost for words and action. We're supposed to save them, and both of us know that. But we can't leave Sam to be werewolf chow. I feel this strong obligation to stick with Sam, even if he's gone. If he didn't leave me, I'm not leaving him. Granted, after some time, nurses had pulled him out of my hospital room, but there's nobody to stop me from being at his side, even if he's...

"Go," I whisper hoarsely to Dean. "I'll stay."

"They're insane," I hear Corbin whisper.

Dean puts a hand on my face. "You sure?"

"Hey, somebody's gotta kill the bastards," I murmur. "Let 'em come."

"I'm gonna come back for you, okay? Both of you. I promise." I exhale shakily as Dean pulls my forehead to kiss it quickly. He offers me a sad smile before standing. "Okay. Okay. Let's go."

I watch forlornly as Michelle, Corbin, and Dean go for the door. Dean is the most reluctant to leave. I give him a warbling smile, not bothering to wipe the tears away.

I'm alone with Sam as Dean shuts the door. I pull out my own knife and grip it tight. Now, the hunter in me is coming out. She'll be more than ready by the time the other werewolves barge into this cabin. I'll make sure there're no more.

It's times like this when, sadly, I wish I was a demon again. The fight would be so much more even.

I get on wobbly legs, mentally preparing myself. They're going to die. If I go down, I go down swinging. It's how a hunter is supposed to go anyway. It'll be worth if it Dean can save them all, even if that dick Corbin doesn't deserve it. The audacity for that man to even consider leaving Sam behind! He clearly doesn't value family. Survival of the fittest, that's what he's all about. Leave the weak to die.

I wish he'd been killed. One less to worry about.

My dark thought kind of scares me.

I spin around at the sound of a loud gasp that's not my own. I stumble back, covering my mouth, holding in the scream. The knife clatters to the ground.

Sam's alive (barely) and kicking.

"Oh my God," I stammer, jumping down to my knees to carefully hug my little brother. I clutch him close. "Oh, Sammy. Oh my God." I kiss the top of his head. "Oh my God..."

"Ow...Jo?"

"Oops." I let him breathe. I touch his face and make sure I'm not dreaming. "You're okay. You're...alive."

"Barely." He coughs. He touches the wound on his stomach, which is caked in blood. "Help me."

"Sam—"

"Just do it."

I look at him uneasily. "Okay."

Sam's body shakes with the effort it takes to get him sitting up. To get him standing is an incredible feat in itself. Both of us are accomplishing pretty big goals: I'm holding my little brother upright, and he's surviving a bullet wound to the stomach.

"Where's—where's Dean?"

"He left. Took Corbin and Michelle with him," I pant.

"How did you get left behind?"

"I opted to stay here."

"Why?"

"Sam, I hate to break this to you, but, we're gonna have some company real soon."

As if on cue, the truck has stopped. I hear its engine cut off. I snatch my knife, because I know leaving it is bad because a) it's giving us a disadvantage b) giving the werewolves an advantage that they don't need, and c) I'm not about to give up my weapon to a monster.

Acting quickly, I look around the cabin and find a door. I help Sam lug over to it and push it open. Oh boy. It's a basement, which requires us to get down some stairs.

"Okay, okay," I mutter. "One step at a—"

Something happens with Sam's coordination, because both of us find ourselves tumbling down the stairs in a tangled mess of bodies. I feel blood dripping down from my forehead, and I hear Sam's loud cries of pain.

"S-sorry, Jo."

"It's okay, Sam. It's okay. Come on." I grunt as I slowly get us untangled from each other. The basement lights are off, giving us some sort of cover. "Oh, shit." Sam is clutching at his stomach again, which is being painted a new layer of red. "O-okay. Um..."

"Jo, less talking, m-more hiding."

In the worst of times, I laugh quietly under my breath. I help Sam stay down, as when he tries, he's unsuccessful in getting up.

We hear the door above break. They're here. Now, the floorboards creak. I hold my nose as dust falls from the ceiling. Sam and I watch each other, and we both stumble further into the basement. I blink the red that's gotten into one of my eyes.

We hear the glomping footsteps, and a male werewolf has entered the basement. Of all times, Sam pushes me behind him, stealing my knife from my hand. We watch as the werewolf rips down a tool shelf, thinking that we're behind it. Sam uses the noise and the chance, thrusting my knife into the werewolf's heart. He cries out, and his body hits the floor.

Sam breathes heavily, tottering a bit. I hear the floorboards move above. Here comes number two. I gesture for Sam to hand me the bloody knife, and I creep closer towards the stairs, where the mix of our blood is, as I hear the second werewolf come down. The footsteps are lighter, so I assume female.

The second I see her, I jump out and shove the knife into her heart. She doesn't scream, but her body makes the same thud that the previous one did. I snort down at the dead werewolf, motioning for Sam to join me at the foot of the stairs.

"Wait a sec," he tells me. He fishes in the female werewolf's clothes and pulls out a set of keys. Wincing, he rises, handing them over to me. I let him stumble his way up the stairs first, risking him crushing me if he falls down again.

Once we surface from the basement, we realize there were only two werewolves left, and both are dead in the basement. We're home free.

I help Sam out of the cabin and help him into the passenger's seat as I start the truck. Unintentionally, I jostle us both by turning it sharply and gunning it down the road.

"We gotta get cell service," Sam pants.

"Why?" I'm focused on the road.

"Dean's in trouble."

"What makes you say that?"

"Corbin. He got turned."

I throw a concerned look at Sam. "Say what?"

"He got turned. And...he tried to kill me."

"Motherfucker," I hiss, slamming my hands on the wheel. "I hate him."

"You and me both, Jo."

"You gonna be good?"

"You let me worry about me. Worry about not killing us from road rage."

"Right. Sorry." I clear my throat. The anger is boiling hot in my chest. I'm going to kill Corbin when I find him. I should've done it when I had the chance. But I hadn't known he had turned into a werewolf then. Then, he'd been a human.

We find Baby, just where we left her. We ditch the truck, stumbling to the Impala. Sam uses the car heavily as support as he fishes for his phone. When he laughs, I know he's found signal. He makes sure to put the phone on speaker.

"Sammy?" is Dean's greeting to us.

"Dean, yeah," says Sam.

"Oh, God. I...what happened? Where's Jo? She with you?"

"I'm here, asshat," I joke.

"Where are you?" Sam demands.

"I'm, uh, at the Urgent Care on Fifty-Four."

"Is Corbin with you?" Dean doesn't answer. "Dean, Corbin's turned! He's a werewolf!"

"Sammy? Jo?"

Sam and I exchange looks. "Is Corbin with you?"

"Sam?! Jo?!"

"Dean?"

Sam curses under his breath, as do I, when I see the signal has cut out.

"Fork over the keys," I tell Sam. He uses Baby to stumble to the other side, clumsily climbing in.

I barely let Sam buckle in before I start the engine and gun it for the hospital.

**This was one of the hardest I've written for Jo. There are times where you meld with your characters and become them so deeply and sincerely that you almost think that you are actually them. That's what I channeled, especially in this final book for Josette. I saw this, like many scenes, through her eyes, and got into her head.

Let's not even begin to discuss the feels when writing this...**