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[contrition]

It had been inching up the wall for a while. A demon, spreading itself thinly across concrete, crumbling the bricks as it went. No one paid attention to that particular alley, nestled away in the shadier part of town, housing fewer residents than it did schemes, and the idea that it might someday climb back up to the wealth enjoyed by the rest of the city. Buildings that had been waiting to be renovated for far too long, alongside flickering lights casting their inconstant gaze upon cracked asphalt.

A nice place to grow and consume as it reached out for its next victim, leaning it against the alley like he was no more than passerby. Only noticeable from a close distance were the boils which spread all across his body, rendering it inhuman, a constant shift over his limbs like snakes under skin.

By the time Yukio arrives, the difference in the movement is clear. The demon can't even begin to hold still, slithering over the walls as it decides to emerge, everything in its wake crumbling with the dark smoke of rot. But Yukio watches, a pair of bright blue eyes in the distance, raising his hand to point a gun with incendiary rounds in the direction of the demon.

Its body slumps towards him, what remains of its arms reaching, and a line parts where the man's mouth had been, breathing miasma in Yukio's direction.

He lets it come close. More than he should. More than he needs to, with his aim. By the time the gun fires, setting alight the fumes emitted in the demon's wake, everything billows out in Yukio's direction, sending him stumbling back until he collides with a dumpster, his back tensing with a shock of pain.

Close range helped with the damage of the shot, but it's not enough, one shoulder of the man blown off as he continues to stumble closer, angrier, faster than before, and Yukio can only just manage to get to his feet in time to run further out, attempting his best to aim over his shoulder.

Too close.



[ Notes for ultimate grossness: 1) the man looks sort of like this, only more human-like in shape. 2) the alley has a bunch of rot and stickiness over it of this sort. 3) and Yukio is using fire because it is strong against rot/decay in his world's demonology. ]

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[always_enduphere]

It's the lack of control, more than anything, that pisses Dean off. He has weapons, but only because he always has weapons. What he doesn't have is research, and there's no time for it, not even a second's worth of hesitation when Dean charges, swift but silent down the alleyway, the round of rocksalt in his sawed off exploding forth into the creature in the same moment that Dean reaches, arresting Yukio's movement with one outstretched hand caught in Yukio's sleeve. He has no idea what he's dealing with, only that it's ugly and it smells, and it's within inches of someone Dean's already decided is his charge.

"What else slows it down, and what kills it?" he grunts, never doubting for a moment that salt will be enough to sting.

[contrition]

Blue eyes flash in surprise when Dean enters. The rounds had been too loud, masking the footfalls that must have approached — or maybe Yukio's too distracted, too singularly focused on the demon. Either way, getting saved by someone who's still more stranger than ally worms under Yukio's skin, and all he can come up with are criticisms for himself.

Too weak. Still too weak. Weaker than Rin, even though he's smarter, even though he's trained for years. But compared to Rin's power... Yukio can only start to fall behind now, and will only in increasing amounts, as time goes by.

It's not a matter of ego that drives him. No amount of power will make Rin more sensible about what he does with it. No amount of power will make it possible for Rin to protect himself in the ways that he needs to.

He clucks his tongue before using the time to reload his gun and start to move back, motioning for Dean to follow. The demon makes a low sound, like the creaking of decayed wood, as it lumbers forward. Its body hisses madly where the salt has hit it, a charred scent mixing with one of rot in the air.

Shoving a hand into his pocket, Yukio's hand closes around a small bottle of holy oil, and he tosses it at Dean. "It's a rot demon. Salt can slow it down, but it's weakest against fire, especially lit holy oil. A fatal verse from the Bible would work to destroy, but I don't have all of them memorized — our best bet is to hit its heart with fire. I don't think the heart is in the body it possesses; it's probably somewhere else in the alley," Rin explains quickly, firing another couple of rounds at the body, enough to knock off a shoulder. "We could trap the body with a devil's trap. I learned about yours from Rin."

[always_enduphere]

"You don't have them all memorized?" Dean snaps, but his hand closes neatly around the vial, and Dean holsters his gun to reach for something else inside his coat. There's no time to draw a trap, not with the thing steaming on their heels, but fire...fire Dean can do.

"Here, ugly," Dean huffs, throwing the vial of oil hard enough to burst at the demon's feet. He flicks his lighter open even as it explodes and tosses that, too, grabbing Yukio again when the flames erupt.

"I've got more," he says of the oil, taking what few moments they've bought to ask, "Most likely places the heart would be?"

[contrition]

"Even if I did, it would take a good hour to recite all of them to try and find the right one," Yukio replies equally as snappishly, though the diatribe that he directs at himself is twice as hard, biting down on his inner cheek as he stares at the progression of the demon.

One thing is clear — the heart isn't in the body that approaches them.

He's surprised when Dean suddenly yanks him back, eyes flying wide open and briefly resting on the other man's expression. He could have withstood the flames. Maybe with some burns, but he could have toughed it out. Could have tried summoning naiads. Develop skills that he needs to, now that he doesn't have a full team to rely on.

Instead, he huffs a breath as he finds his footing again, a grunt the only sign of appreciation as he directs another cursed round into the demon's abdomen, starting a fire that quickly starts to spread.

"Not in the body. Probably deeper in the alley. It would be somewhere... hidden, protected. This rot demon is slow, so it's probably relying more on the surroundings to protect it than keeping it by its side. It might have a sulfurous smell."

[always_enduphere]

Hundreds of verses, and only one a sure bet. Dean never thought he'd long for the simplicity of the demons of his own world. At least the sulfur is familiar.

"Sounds like you better than I do where to look," he says, gaze not falling to the smoke rising from Yukio's sleeves, but his thoughts sure as hell do. The kid's enthusiasm borders on reckless, taking risks he doesn't need to when reinforcements are here.

"Find it." Dean lifts his gun, firing a round of salt to rub in the demon's already fiery wounds. "I'll keep it occupied."

[contrition]

"If you get hurt—"

It's a half-formed protest, before Yukio suddenly relaxes. If Dean gets hurt, Rin will hate him. Hate Yukio for letting someone who's practically been a second rather to him in Darrow get injured by this... thing. This demon, unimportant and the scourge of the earth. Disgusting. Pointless. No greater motivation behind the slow way that it swells and spreads down the alley.

That's right. Yukio has motivation not to screw up here, because if he does, Rin will only throw himself further into the fray. Biting down on his complaint, Yukio runs on ahead, even though his strength has always been in the long range battle. Ending it before it even starts. So while the demon hisses under the burn of the salt in Dean's rounds, Yukio steps closer, keeping both of his guns raised as he walks along the edge of the alley.

Stuffing one of the guns away in its holster, Yukio pulls out a long dagger hidden in his jacket, dragging it down the larger bulbs of rot, flinching when a couple of them burst and immediately burn against his skin. His complexion reddens, boils forming in seconds, infected and a sickening yellow in color.

But he doesn't complain. Boils he can handle; he has a set of needles on him to help after he's done with the task. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the demon slowly start to turn around, having felt Yukio working in the background.

It must mean that he's close.

"Can you lay a line of salt on the ground?" he yells in Dean's direction. "Between it and us. You'll be faster than it."

[always_enduphere]

The salt's already in his hands, and Dean moves away from the hulking creature, one eye on Yukio as he works. It's easy to get between them, relatively speaking, and Dean lays the salt and keeps going, forming a wide, thin circle around the demon. He doesn't have any left now to taunt it with, save for the rounds in his gun, but it's worth the sacrifice.

Just for fun, Dean opens his mouth and tries his own incantation. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas - "

[contrition]

Even if the incantation doesn't seem to be the fatal line required to exorcise this particular demon, it still lets out a loud roar, writhing and raising itself up in anger, puffing and bubbling at the discomfort. The scent in the alley is heavy now, strong enough that Yukio can feel the saliva gathering in his mouth, and spits off to the side as he diligently rips through more of the demon's membrane.

On his fourth try, he finds something, the spot emitting an angry hiss that burns against Yukio's palms as he works.

"I found it!" Yukio shouts, even as the demon shudders over to the side, trying to avoid the heavy line of salt on the ground. Huffing as he pulls out his gun again, Yukio presses it up against the heart, feeling the pound, inhuman but still constant. Closing his eyes, he pulls the trigger, the fire in the cursed round erupting at once and lighting up the area, along the trail that the demon's stretched itself upon brick and concrete.

Only Yukio's good sense in choosing a fireproof jacket saves him from the worst of the damage as he quickly gets to his feet, staggering away in Dean's direction. "Run!"

Behind him, the flame licks over the rest of the demon's body, which has already started to melt and disintegrate, dropping wetly on the ground. Yukio is only worried about the gas, now.

[always_enduphere]

Dean's satisfaction at seeing the demon go up in flames in shortlived, one elbow thrown up over his mouth and nose to ward off the noxious fumes. He runs, but not as fast, waiting for Yukio to catch up with him before he starts hauling in earnest.

The kid is burned, heat and chemical welts bubbling on his skin, and Dean barely waits until they're out of range before he grinds to a halt. "Jacket off," he says, already tugging it over Yukio's shoulders, "Then give me your hands."

[contrition]

Father would have yelled. Father would have started scolding Yukio immediately — not always loudly, not always in anger, but always a scolding nonetheless. Yukio was too risky, and it came at the cost of getting someone else involved, and there's a high chance that he'll still be sporting injuries by the next time he sees his brother. He can only hope that there are salves and healers that he can turn to before he's forced to confront his brother.

Every time, trying to hide as much of this world from Rin as possible. To preserve Rin's humanity. The only thing that keeps him from being one of the Vatican's largest targets.

Yukio doesn't process Dean's directions at first, already lambasting himself for everything, hating the fact that his eyes are watering from the pain. He feels his jacket being tugged off before he finally startles into his senses, bright blue eyes suddenly turned up at Dean. "Daijoubu da you," he bites out in a rush, cheeks flooding over with shame, his voice strained with self-directed anger. "I'm fine. I just need to let the poison out and... treat the burns. I'll treat yours too. Did you get hit by the poison?"

[always_enduphere]

"No, but I wasn't elbow deep in it either," Dean says, voice hardening in an attempt to cut through the kid's stubbornness. Jesus, is this what Sam would've been like without Dean there to deflect as much as he did in those early years?

"Give me your hands, now. Yours are way worse, and you can't help me if your fingers are too swollen to work." Reaching into his jacket, Dean draws a long, silver blade. "This good enough to let the poison?" Taking another look at Yukio's pinched face, Dean adds, "You want some whiskey?"

[contrition]

"What good is drinking going to do me?" Yukio asks, genuinely perplexed, looking his age for one guileless moment before directing his gaze down at Dean's knife. It would work to let out the poison, even to help suppress some of the miasma, but it's an inelegant solution. If keeping a low profile was Yukio's greatest concern, this would be the time to let Dean have at it.

His gaze meets green eyes, bright underneath the dark shadow under Dean's brow, before shaking his head and nodding in the direction of his jacket.

"Good enough, but I have something better," he says on an exhale. "Inside the left side of my jacket. Hidden pocket near the lining. Silver needles rinsed with holy water."

[always_enduphere]

"Got something for everything, don't you?" Dean grunts, not mocking but appreciative as he digs through the jacket to find the needles. "Everything but a phone to call for backup," he adds, somewhat less appreciatively, and digs through his own coat to produce a flask.

"Take a gulp. It'll burn, but nothing like these needles are going to."

[contrition]

"I have to," Yukio mumbles, slightly distracted by the pain no matter how hard he tries to be otherwise, his shoulders shaking. "I'm not strong like nii-san is. If I don't know this world inside and out, I won't last a minute. If I need someone to bail me out every time, then it's really over."

His lips thin, tight at the edges in penance, before he parts them and lets Dean pour some of the liquor into his mouth. Unaccustomed to the taste of alcohol, Yukio bites down the immediate impulse to cough, swallowing the reflex down but unable to stop the way his eyes tear up.

"And people actually enjoy drinking that?" he asks once he's swallowed it down, a genuine, unbridled question.

He feels younger tonight than he's been in years.

[always_enduphere]

"You grow to like it," Dean grunts, nodding in approval when Yukio gets it down in one go. He repockets the flask and turns his attention to the needles.

"You know when else it's really over?" he asks as he pulls one out. "When you get yourself killed. From now on, if you've got a dangerous hunt, you call me. Ganking demons is what I'm here for, and you can get a hold of me, day or night."

Dean punctuates the missive with a precise jab into the largest blister, managing not to wince for the horror show that slides out of it.

[contrition]

"It wasn't even a dangerous hunt," Yukio says quietly, still blinking away the wetness in his eyes, trying his best to focus instead on the warmth in his stomach, but it's a dull sensation compared to the rest. "A rot demon is slow. I could have chipped gradually away from a distance, but... I got impatient. I wanted to get it finished and done with."

His eyes are wide and his breath paused as Dean pierces the first blister, his shoulders shuddering and a whimper falling behind the heavy bite of his lip as Yukio doubles forward, blood and pus leaking out over his fingers, smelling burnt and acrid from the effect of the holy water.

"I'm sure," he adds on a gasp, "that you have plenty of your own work to tend to."

[always_enduphere]

"No hunts important enough that I can't lend a hand," says Dean, thinking briefly of the blood eking from Castiel's eye. He squeezes Yukio's shoulder, helping to keep him upright through the worst racks of agony.

"Next time you call me," he says, voice firm. "How you doing? You ready for the next one?"

[contrition]

Yukio bites down on his retort. Bites down on his distrust of the sentiment. There will always be something in the world more important than him. And so long as Rin is around, that something will be directly by his side.

But what kind of brother would he be if he needed to put that into words? More importantly, how would he even be able to ask Dean to turn his eyes on Rin instead without coming off as weak? Without learning to trust someone he's hardly met.

Instead, Yukio shakes his head minutely, eyes still fixed on his hands. "Keep going. Go fast. I'd rather there be more pain for a shorter period of time than to let this drag on."