Part 35

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I was beginning to get out of breath. Jo and I'd heard the gunshot, but the sound had echoed between the buildings and was hard to pinpoint. Panic began to set in as time passed, and my vision shifted in and out of focus.

"Call again!" I called out to Jo when I darted between the crates in a warehouse smelling like fish. Jo continued out the back, with the phone pressed to her ear and flashlight in her other hand.

Once she was out of sight, I had to take a moment to collect myself. Now was not the time to get a panic attack. I rested my hands on my knees and sucked in a deep breath. Either of them could be dead... Both could be dead. I forced the thought away and took a couple of more breaths.

"Dean! Dean!" Jo called from outside. "Willow!" I was already moving as fast as I could, following her voice.

I found her by the docks, not too far away. She was bending over someone on a boat ramp, flipping the body over. He was halfway into the water and had probably crawled up in an attempt to get out of the freezing cold. I knew his shadow all too well and let out a relieved sob once he couched up some of the liquid in his lungs.

"Take it easy," Jo told him as he helped him sit up. Dean groaned in pain, clutching his left shoulder, and his eyes flickered to mine when I finally dropped down next to him.

"Dean," I breathed out, cupping his face in my hands. I didn't know if he was shivering from the cold or from the pain of the gunshot wound in his shoulder. "Sam's not here. We don't know where he went," I told him, knowing that was all he needed to know at the moment.

He nodded, and I quickly let go of him and turned my attention to the gunshot wound.

"Bullet is still lodged inside," I informed him.

"Come on, get up," Jo demanded, and together we helped him to his feet and all the way back to the bar, his knees buckling from his pain.

The pained sounds coming from Dean Winchester made my skin crawl in discomfort. Jo had taken it upon herself to dig the bullet out, and I was glad. I probably wouldn't have been able to do it with my shaking hands.

"Don't be a baby!" The blonde commented after Dean winced and groaned after what looked like a harrowing twist of the tweezers.

"God!" Dean growled. I drank deeply from a bottle of whiskey on the table before placing it in front of Dean.

"Almost. All right, got it. Got it." Jo pulled the bullet out and dropped it into a shot glass filled with a clear liquid, probably tequila if I knew her right, her tongue peeking out as she concentrated. Dean reached out for the bottle of whiskey and drank deeply.

"God, you're a butcher."

"You're welcome," Jo retorted, voice dripping in sarcasm.

I began to shift the weight between my feet impatiently. Dean observed me.

"All right, are we done?" Dean asked Jo, not letting his eyes leave me.

"Would you give me two minutes to patch you up?" Jo snapped, making Dean shut his mouth. "You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." Dean didn't answer but drank deeply from the bottle again. "So, how did you know? That he was possessed?" She asked, changing the topic.

"Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him," he answered. I turned around so that they couldn't see how I bit my lip or how I let my nails dig into the palm of my hand.

"Hey, Dean," Jo continued behind me.

"Yeah?"

"I know demons lie, but... do they ever tell the truth too?"

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