Demons (Supernatural Fan-fiction)

It's okay

We ran out of the house, only to find all of the other demons standing in front of the door. We held up our weapons and seven demons charged at us. We took care of them, killing them with ease.

"You know what I'm surprised about?" panted Sam, pulling his knife out of a demon.

"What?" I coughed, kicking another demon back.

"Most people don't know that demons exist, let alone how to fight them, yet somehow, you do," he pondered over why that was, taking care of another demon. There were four left, including the one that was mine to kill, James.

Dean called for Sam and I, and we ran towards him.

"There's four left," said Dean, panting.

"We know," I breathed.

"Let's get 'em," said Bobby again, this time, less excitedly.

I got a good grip on my knives and went to look for the demon that killed my sister. I heard gunshot and cried and I knew that the others had killed the last three demons. There was only one left. It was just me and James now.

An evil, humorless laughter filled my ears, sending shivers down my spine.

"Where are you?!" I called.

"I'm here," whispered a chilling voice in my ear. I gasped and turned to see a familiar face.

"Sam," I breathed.

"No, not Sam," he chuckled, his eyes turning black and then back to their original color.

"What do you want from me?!" I cried, falling to the ground.

It grabbed my hair and pulled me up, painfully.

"I think you know," he chuckled, coldly.

"Sam!" I squirmed, uncomfortably, "I know you're still in there! Fight him!"

It dropped me and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. It screamed, and the demons left Sam.

Sam laid on the ground, not moving. I placed my head on his chest, listening for a heartbeat, only to hear a faint drumming. He was hardly alive.

I pumped on his chest and placed my mouth on his, trying to revive him. I didn't stop trying, even when Dean and Bobby found us, even when they tried to convince me that he was dead.

"No!" I cried, "He can't be dead!" I felt a hand on my back. I stopped, tears running down my face, and turned to see Dean, who was crying as well. I pushed Dean away and placed my head back on his chest. I wasn't going to leave him, not even if he was dead.

All of a sudden, I heard a drumming in his chest. I sat up and looked at Sam's face. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around. He mumbled something and looked at Dean and Bobby, and then me. He smiled, and he put his hand on my cheek. I grabbed his hand and held it.

I burst out into a fresh round of sobs, but they were happy tears. Sam was back.

"It's okay," said Sam, sitting up. He gasped in pain and clutched his side with both hands.

I moved to see what was wrong. I lifted the side of his shirt to see a nasty looking cut, about three inches deep. There was a small puddle of blood on his shirt.

"Let's get you inside," said Bobby, propping Sam up on his shoulder and leading him inside. Dean took Sam's other side and I followed close behind, holding a small square of cloth to his wound.

We finally got inside and set Sam down on a chair. Dean handed him a needle that had been strung and a bottle of liquor.

"I'll do it," I said, taking the needle. I crouched over, at eye level to the wound, and stuck the needle through his skin, making the first stitch. Sam winced, taking a drink from the bottle.

After about twenty minutes of this, I finally stitched Sam's side. He stretched and yawned.

"I think we should go to bed," I said, stretching my tight muscles and putting a hand on my hip. Everyone nodded and headed to where they slept. Its been a long day.