Good evening dear colleagues, welcome to my first story on SUPERNATURAL fandom.

The story bellow, takes place within the 2nd season and what give me inspiration to write it, was a fairytale by the same name and a random fanfiction i read a few days ago, so, the monster you going to read in this story, is made only for this fanfiction and doesn´t exist in the show

Another thing about this story, is that it was writen in 2 parts, so, bellow this line, it´s just the first part; the secound one, will be come up soom

Meanwhile, i hope you enjoy this story and if it´s too out of character, please, help me fix it, i hate when i wrote someone out of his or her true personality.

Thank you very much for your time

Yours

Dr. Serpico


GODFATHER DEATH - Part 1

It was late night in Phoenix, Arizona and the Winchester brothers found themselves sitting in a motel room, doing nothing, except research on their current case. Well, actually, Sam was researching, while Dean was just playing candy crush in his cellphone. It happened, that in Phoenix, a lot of ill people, when they are seen by a certain doctor, they started to rave and ended up dying, even of the illness in question were just a simple cold.

''crap'' Sam growled, blowing his nose

''hey, are you okay?'' asked Dean, paying attention on his brother

'' just a cold coming, should not be anything'' he lied. It happened that just after they arrived in Arizona, Sam started to feel kind of unwell, His throat had ached a bit as well, along with his head and stomach, he was exhausted and he had been fighting the urge to cough ''Dean, did you heard about Godfather Death?'' he asked, changing the subject

''I think so, it is a fairytale, by those Brothers Grimm. Why?''

''I think it may be a connection Dean, look'' Sam answered, showing his brother their dad´s diary ''dad wrote a note about it, he said there´s a doctor who visit his patients accompanied by the grim reaper itself and if it stayed at the foot of the bed, means that the person in question must die''

''so you´re saying that a fairytale is the responsible for all those deaths?'' Dean asked in a mocking tone

''well all the people who died, were visited by the same doctor, perhaps it has a connection''

''you better go to sleep, Storyteller, you´re looking like death itself'' Dean ignored his comments, turn the lights off and goes to sleep

''sure, thank you very much Dean'' he said, back to his book, coughing a little


Sam awoke with a start and rolled over to the edge of the bed just in time to vomit. There was nothing really in his stomach but the bit of bile and water that was there came up easily and splattered on the floor. The action burned his throat and caused him to start coughing the same way he had the night before. It sounded worse now, though, and he felt as though the sleep had done him more harm than good. Groaning, he rolled back and weakly wiped his sleeve across his mouth.

He didn't recall falling asleep, but he saw light coming in through the dusty window and from what he could tell, the sun had been up for a few hours at least. If he listened carefully, he could hear the town going about its daily business outside. Children were laughing, dogs were barking and adults were shouting. It was clear proof that the world kept on going even if one person felt awful.

Sam looked over at his brother, knowing he was in need of some sort of help, he had never felt this ill before and it was making him nervous. Another cough crept up on him and tears of pain came to his eyes. When he got his breathing under control again, he glanced hopefully at his brother. He was disappointed. Dean was still sound asleep, the coughing not bothering him at all. He was alone in the bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow and his head resting on the mattress.

The young man weighed his options. He could lie here, feeling awful and pray that someone came to check on them and noticed he was ill. Or, he could struggle out of bed and wake up Dean. Neither one of them seemed like pleasant options. On the one hand, he could wait hours and hours before someone checked in or Dean came to. On the other hand, walking the mere six feet to Dean's bed seemed like an undoable task.

''Dean…'' he called, but his voice was weak and it even make the other man stirred

''Sammy?'' he look to his side with his yes widened in surprise and horror ''are you feeling alright?'' his deceased father was kneeling beside his bed, smiling and stroking his hear

''D-Dad?'' he choked

''I think you are sick, son'' John Winchester smiled I'll go get your mother and she can send Dean for the doctor. I´m sure your mother can take care of you much better them me."

''n-no, dad, p-please, don´t leave'' Sam pleaded, trying to catch his hand but failing

''I have to call your mother Samuel, but don´t worry, I will wake you brother and make sure he will keep an eye on you''

''no, Dad, please, stay with me, don´t leave, please'' he cried out but was stopped by another coughing spell. He couldn't seem to get them to stop. His lungs were seizing, expelling the bit of air he had acquired. His vision was darkening again and a roaring filled his ears. He was going to die now, with his father gone, his brother asleep and his mother not present. He had never thought he would die alone.

He barely heard the cursing coming from the other bed and the yelp that accompanied it. He was fully absorbed in his world which consisted of his failing body and his darkening mind. In fact, he didn't realize that someone was beside him until hands grasped his shoulders and a frightened voice called for him.

"Sam? Sammy! What's wrong?" the voice said, and one of the hands moved to his face. "Sam, can you hear me?"

He could hear the person but he couldn't say so. He was so tired, so worn out and so ready to rest. A long peaceful sleep was very appealing.

"I'm going to get your mother now" John said in his ear. "Dean is going to watch you until I come back with Mama."

"Dad," he whispered in reply. "D-don't..."

"I love you, son," she murmured. "Don't be scared. Your brother is going to be here while I'm gone."

But he was scared, he was terrified even. And in a brief moment of lucidity, he realized that his mother and father were dead and that there was no way that either of them were coming.

"Sam?" the voice asked again. "Brother? You have a fever. Why didn't you say something?"

Sam knew that it was Dean who was talking to him and he was confused. His brother sounded almost frantic with worry.

"'m sorry," Dean mumbled. "Didn't w-want to w-wake you... D-Dad s-said h-he should though."

The response didn't calm the older Winchester at all. He seemed to grow more agitated and pressed Sam back against the flat pillow, dragging the blankets over him. "Dad? Sammy, Dad's..." He trailed off for a moment and chewed on his lip. "I'm going to fetch a doctor. You need a doctor."

"No!" Sam cried as loud as he could, which was really just a rasping whisper. "D-don't leave me... I j-just wait until Dad comes back with M-mom. Please?"

"Samuel" Dean said slowly, his voice shaking. "They aren't coming. They're dead, remember?"

He did remember but for some reason, he couldn't make sense of it. His feverish mind kept insisting that his father had just been there, saying that she was going to fetch their mother.

"B-but h-he was there. h-he woke you up," he whispered. h-he said you w-would stay..."

Dean shook his head, his hand on his brother's cheek. "He wasn't here, Sam. He's dead. I woke up because of your coughing." He pursed his lips. "Sammy, I'm going to leave for a little bit. It'll only take me a minute, I promise."

"N-no!" he begged, grasping the front of Dean's shirt with one shaking hand. "Pl-please st-stay...I..."

His lungs protested horrendously and the painful coughing began again. The hand wrapped about his brother's shirt released almost immediately, moving to his chest instead as though it could stop the coughing. Dean, meanwhile, forced him to sit up, and rubbed his back, looking completely helpless. Even Sam's fuzzy, fever twisted mind could see that Dean wanted to bring back a doctor but didn't want to leave his little brother hacking and frightened.

At some point, he blacked out. It wasn't for a long time but it was long enough for Dean to rush out of the room and leave him alone again. A familiar fear grasped him once more, and he struggled to follow his brother. His limbs did not agree with this pursuit and instead of helping him move, they lay limply on the bed. He was left to wait, praying that his brother would return or that his mother or father would appear. He couldn't stand being alone.