"It's Dr. Whitticker, you know me," a voice spoke gently, as if he'd been through this a thousand times. Sam hadn't noticed the man until he was standing directly over him, and a few others that had managed to sneak in as well. Sam knew the face, pale and almost ghostly white, with inky black hair.
"Liar!" Sam accused, "You're lying! You're the demon that's killing those people!"
"Honestly Mr. Winchester, these delusions, nightmares, alternate realities, whatever you want to call them... They're going to kill you one day."
He could see the needle even from where he was being held down by several people onto the hard mattress, their grips so tight around his wrists and arms that he couldn't move. They'd told him it was for precaution. So he didn't hurt himself.
"NO! Don't you come near me with that thing!" Sam growled, as he strained to break free of the captors holding him in place, "No, you don't understand!"
The doctor wore a sympathetic smile on his face, that looked like a malicious glint to the hunter, "I do understand, Sam, I do, it will get better after a while, I promise. You'll remember soon."
He stuck the needle into Sam's strong arm and Sam could already feel the effects of the drug as his eyelids started to slip closed. Sam mumbled incoherently, fighting to stay awake, "My brother... Where's Dean?"
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam heard the doctor's voice echo, "Sam we've been through this. Dean is dead..."
(Two days earlier)
"Thank you for your help, Doctor," Sam said. The phone was pressed against his ear as the Impala drove steady down the highway at the hand of his brother, the radio blasting as the driver sang along.
"Yeah could you-" Sam covered the phone with his hand, "Dean, do you mind?"
Shoot to thrill, play to kill, Too many women with too many pills...
Sam turned in his seat a little to glare, "Turn it down, Dean, I'm trying to use the phone... Ms. Jones? Yeah directions to the hospital would be great. Yeah I can wait."
Shoot to thrill, play to kill, I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will...
"DEAN! Turn the music down!" Sam said in a loud whisper, a look of exasperation on his face. That look soon turned to confusion as his attention turned back to the other end of the phone, "What's that? My son? Oh. Yeah kids can be a bit restless during long car rides."
Sam looked at Dean pointedly who just shrugged and smirked. "Oh they sure do grow up fast. Although some never really do grow up," Sam said, and Dean got the hint and finally turned the music down with a small chuckle.
"You have it? Okay, uh yeah I've got a pen ready," Sam said as he started taking down the address on the back of his hand, "Uh huh, yes. Really ma'am it's no trouble. We'll be there first thing tomorrow morning. Thanks for your help."
Sam snapped the phone shut and with a huff turned to Dean. "I've got the address to Salem Hospital, no thanks to you," Sam said as Dean turned the volume back up so Sam now had to shout, "It's about one hundred and fifty miles from here, you wanna stop for the night or keep going?"
"We've been out of the hunt for a week now, Sammy, I think we've had enough vacation time," Dean said as the Impala picked up speed, "Let's keep on going."
"Alright," Sam complied as he leaned back in the seat and started giving directions.
A couple later found the brothers almost to their location. "There should be a motel. Um, turn right. Dude, your other right," Sam said as Dean yawned from where he sat on the driver's side and made a sharp turn to the right. They finally pulled into the Blue Horizon Motel.
"Go get us a room," Dean instructed as he handed Sam a fake credit card and without a second glance back, Sam made his way to the lobby to do so.
Dean pulled their duffel bags from the trunk, along with the research Sam had compiled over two states back. Dean glanced over it again and shook his head.
People of all ages, genders, and medical records... Nobody knows what's causing these comas.
Thirty five cases all in the last month...
So far nobody's woken back up...
Doctors aren't sure what to think, don't know what to test for...
Dean wasn't sure what to make of this either. Freak medical thing or some horrible supernatural force that was trying to take over an innocent city? It could be the former, but in their line of profession, it was usually the latter.
At first Dean had been thinking a shritga, and it would have been a little ironic considering shritgas were a form of witch, and they were actually in Salem where the witch trials had occured... And Sam had so annoyingly pointed out that they didn't actually occur there, that they occured in Danvers, which at that time had been called Salem Village, and they renamed it afterwards. Stupid Sam and his stupid college education. That aside, those freaks usually only went for children... Well except for when it had attacked Sam almost two years ago, but his little brother seemed to be a magnet for trouble, so that didn't really count. Either way, Dean was almost ruling out that idea completely, which left them with nothing.
Putting the paper under his arm, Dean hefted both bags onto his shoulder. He made a note to remind himself to beat the crap out of his brother later for signaling him the room number and then dissapearing inside, leaving him to haul everything in himself.
"How far are we from the hospital?" Dean asked as he set down his bag gently and threw Sam's over into a corner. Most of the contents spilled out on to the floor and Dean tried to hide a laugh.
Sam shot his older brother a glare and retrieved the bag, setting it into his bed. "Fifteen minutes," Sam replied as he settled down on to the bed, tired from the drive.
"Good, not a long drive, means we can sleep a little longer," Dean said, setting up his own bed and burying his face into the pillow.
"Yup," Sam said, reaching up to shut out the light, "Instead of getting up at 6:45 we can get up at 7:00!"
Sam laughed a little when he heard Dean's muffled groan.
The morning sun streemed through the windows of the Impala as Dean pulled into the closest parking space he could find.
Downing the rest of his coffee, Dean chucked it to the other side, hitting Sam in the side of the head.
"You know, you have got to be the most immature person I have ever met, Dean," Sam snapped, picking up the foam cup that had dropped into his lap and throwing it back.
Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned, "I know you are but what am I?"
Sam rolled his eyes, "My god."
"You can call me Dean."
Sam actually laughed at that and opened up the door, making his way in.
"Sam!" Dean called and the younger man looked back, barely catching the fake badge and ID set Dean tossed to him.
"So what's exactly the plan for today, Dean?" Sam asked in a hushed tone as they made their way into the hospital entrance.
"See if we can get in to see a few of the patients, talk to some of the doctors, nurses, families maybe," Dean replied, hesitant on the last suggestion. Family's of victims usually didn't like to do much talking, but it helped a lot in the long run.
Sam nodded his agreement and they turned a corner, a dark skinned receptionist with warm brown eyes asking them if she could help them.
"Yes actually we're with the CDC," Sam said, flashing her a badge and his most genuine, fake smile, distinctly using his thumb to cover most of it, "I'm Sam, this is my partner, Dean."
"Oh, I spoke to you on the phone yesterday, correct?" whom Sam now assumed with Ms. Jones asked, glancing between the two of them,
"That is correct," Dean chimed in.
"Great," Ms. Jones said with a relieved smile, emerging from behind the desk to greet them properly, shaking each of their hands, "We've been expecting you guys, the doctors don't know what to make of this, maybe you can make heads or tails of some of this."
"Well, what can you tell us for starters, Ms. Jones?" Sam asked.
"It's Karen, and all I can tell you is that this is a small town, that is rapidly getting smaller," she said, a heaviness to her voice, her face dimmed with grief, "The first one came in about a month ago. David Marien, he was fourteen. Healthy boy, played football for his highschool team. He just collapsed in the middle of the living room. His mother rushed him here, where he woke up and he started mumbling. Things about black eyes and how he was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knit together as he and Dean shared a look.
Karen shook her head and closed her eyes slightly, "I don't know. He lapsed back into the coma shortly after and then just wasn't response at all after that. He got worse day by day."
"Worse?" Sam repeated.
Karen nodded and sighed, "One by one, all of his vital organs began failing, and then soon after shutting down. He passed away last week."
"And the others?" Dean asked, as he scribbled something on to a notepad. Sam was pretty sure that was just for show.
"The same. One by one after that they started coming in. We've had six die already," Karen said leading them down a hallway. Sam glanced down the hall to his right to see a waiting area, an old man and a woman holding hands, and another, younger man holding a small little girl in his arms.
Karen's gaze followed Sam's and she sighed, "That's Victoria Brooke's family. Her mother, father, husband and daughter. She was brought in just today. Same symptoms as all the others."
"Would you mind if we had a quick word with them?" Dean asked when Sam didn't.
"I'm not sure that's-"
"It would really help the investigation," Dean cut in again, and Sam nodded his head.
"My partner is right, we need to cover all our bases, leave no stone unturned," Sam said, flashing her his most concerned eyes, "We want to help."
Karen glanced back to the family, and then to the Winchesters, "Fine. But don't you bother them for too long, they're hurting enough as it is."
"Yes, ma'am," Both boys said in unison.
Sam and Dean turned down the hallway to the faces of the family.
"Hi, I'm Sam, this is Dean, we're with the Center for Disease Control," Sam introduced once again, "Would you mind if we asked a few questions?"
The younger man set the little girl down in the chair and stood up, crossing his arms, "What do you want to know?" His tone had a hard, angry edge to it, as if he was sick of answering questions before any had even been asked.
Sam took a deep breath and gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry this must be very hard for you," Sam said, "We'll make this brief. Had your wife been acting any differently lately?"
The man's pained expression wore on as he shook his head.
"Any indication that this could have been coming?" Sam prodded.
"No," he replied shortly, "She just collapsed this morning while making breakfast for our daughter. She woke on the way to the hospital, screamin,' saying that somebody was after her. Then she closed her eyes again and hasn't opened them since."
Dean frowned. "Did she say who was after her?"
The man narrowed his eyes and looked at Dean quizically, "Nobody was after her. She was delusional."
Dean nodded his head, "Right, of course, I'm just covering all the bases. We'll get out of your way."
Nodding to the family, Dean and Sam turned away and headed back down the hallway.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"So what do you think this is, some sort of demonic virus?" Dean asked, as he walked into the motel room, throwing the keys to the Impala onto the nightstand next to his bed.
Sam made a face as he sat down on his own bed, laptop resting on his knees, "Eh, I don't know. The doctors would have found some trace in any of the patients' blood by now if it was."
"You would think," Dean sighed, "You call Bobby?"
Sam shook his head, glancing up from his screen, "No, I'll get to it in a second."
Dean nodded, "Alright. You hungry?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, "Could you go pick something up? I wanna stay in and do a little research."
"Sure, Sammy, you want burgers, burgers, or burgers?" Dean asked, retrieving his keys.
Sam looked up again and grinned, "A burger sounds good."
"Alright I'll be back in a couple minutes, you gonna be okay?"
Sam laughed, "Unless the laptop attacks, I think I'll be fine."
Dean gave a mock bout of laughter and grabbed his cellphone, heading out and shutting the door behind him.
Sam watched him go and then shifted his eyes back to the screen. He clicked and typed endlessly, but nothing was getting him any closer to finding any sort of answer for what was terrorizing the people in this town. Sam was getting frustrated and he set the laptop aside.
He got up to cross the room and retrieve his phone. He started dialing Bobby's number when the room started spinning. Sam had to steady himself on the desk and he shook his head slightly.
Walking back over to where he'd been seated before, Sam felt the dizziness again, and a chill ran down his spine.
He turned his head, the movement sending him to the floor and out. When he came to and looked back up, he saw a man staring down at him, a small smile crossing his lips at the young hunter's confusion.
"Who're you?" Sam asked, his words coming out in short gasps.
The man's eyes turned coal black and Sam felt his body growing weaker as his eyelids started to droop and his vision started blurring.
"Sleep now, Sam," the man with the coal black eyes told him as he placed a hand to Sam's temple and everything in his world went black.