Sam and Dean Winchester ran through the woods as fast as they could in hot pursuit of their current target, a Scorpio-demon, a scorpion-like monster that walks on two legs, the likes of which had rarely been seen by humans and this one had been hunting these woods, feeding on hikers, campers and large animals for decades.
Sam had managed to determine that the only way to kill a Scorpio-demon was with specially made ceremonial oak staves and with Bobby's help they made a pair of them just before going out to the woods and hunting the thing down.
"Stop!" Dean shouted to Sam, holding out his arm in case he didn't hear. "What's the matter Dean? We're right on it's tail." "Not anymore," Dean said carefully scouring the area ahead with his sharply trained hunters eyes. "I lost sight of it and these bastards are sneaky and climb like monkeys."
Sam simply nodded, having once identified what they had been hunting, they found some notes on them in their dad's journal, turned out he had actually encountered one once in the woods of Wisconsin and had learned a good deal about them in his research.
Sam and Dean listened quietly barely even breathing, trying to make out any sound that the creature would make.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind them. The bastard climbed the trees and got behind us Dean thought as he moved to take up position between the demon and Sam.
However, Scorpio-demons are fast and by the time Dean was even halfway there it had lashed out with it's mighty scorpion-like tail and tagged Sam, who had turned to defend himself, in the stomach.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted, rushing over as the thing pulled it stinger, the size of a medium sized blade, out of Sam's stomach and bared it's fangs at Dean, a new target.
Not for the first time Dean wished the thing's thick hide didn't prevent bullets or blades from working, however he was just grateful for the staff he had in his hand.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted seeing red and he raised the staff and slammed it down on the creature.
Dean managed to knock the Scorpio-demon off of it's feet (not an easy task), but as it fell it used it's tail as a whip and knocked Dean back several feet, into a nearby tree, knocking the wind out him and causing him to lose his staff.
Despite having the wind knocked out of him Dean was much more light so he was back on his feet first and, since his staff was lost, he picked up the one the now prone Sam had been carrying and screamed, "I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch!"
Running up to the fallen Scorpio-demon Dean raised his weapon again and blinded by anger he pounded on it until his arms grew tired, then until they became numb and he couldn't pound anymore, every blow was filled with anger and frustration.
Finally, Dean couldn't even stand anymore and he fell to his knees next to the pulped flesh and blood that used to be the Scorpio-demon.
After getting his breath his senses began to return and he could think clearly again, "Sammy!" he shouted running over to his fallen brother.
Sam didn't look so good. He was pale and wasn't moving, his breathing was shallow and his stomach had a good-sized bloody hole in it.
"Oh God!" Dean said examining Sam as best as he could, "I gotta get you help and fast!" Dean remembered seeing a hospital on their drive out to the woods and knew it was the closest place.
Pulling out a bandana he had in his coat pocket he applied pressure to the wound then slowly picked Sam up in his arms, as carefully as he could so he wouldn't do more harm, he ran as fast as he could back to where they had parked the Impala.
A short and furious drive later Dean hastily parked the Impala as close to the hospital's front doors as he could get and carefully lifted Sam into his arms again, he noticed grimly that he looked worse than he had in the woods and tried to tell himself it was just the lighting in the parking lot.
Coming through the doors Dean shouted, "Help! I need help! My brother is hurt!" by now the tears he had been fighting to hold back were starting to show in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks as he cursed himself for not doing his job, watch out for Sammy, their dad had said that so many times and for the second time in his life he felt like he had failed.
Young Dean cradled his little brother in his arms in the back seat of the Impala as their father drove madly through the darkness.
Other than to tell Dean he was taking them to stay with Pastor Jim for a little while John hadn't spoken a word to Dean and as much as Dean was glad that his dad hadn't chewed him out for leaving the motel room and not keeping an eye on Sammy, in many ways the silence was much worse.
At one point Dean thought he heard his dad mutter something about how careless he was to have his kids with him on this hunt of all hunts and how he should have taken them to Jim's in the first place.
Nonetheless Dean felt it was all his fault and he felt as if he alone could make it right. Since Dean had come back to the motel room and found that weird cloaked figure over Sam's bed Sam had hardly moved or spoken and since hitting the road he hadn't moved or spoke at all. He was sick and it was all his fault.
The doctor came out into the hallway where Dean had been pacing furiously. It had been a fight to keep Dean out of the room while they examined and treated Sam; in fact they had to nearly call security to get him to agree to wait just outside the door.
"Mister Jagger," the doctor said, "I'm Doctor Black," Doctor Black put his hand out to shake Dean's hand but Dean kept looking him in the eye and simply said, "How's my brother?" Fighting to keep his voice from cracking.
"We've treated his wound and examined him thoroughly," Doctor Black said, "as far as that goes he's going to be just fine, luckily the wound was largely superficial and didn't do any real damage internally but…"
Dean frowned he didn't like sentences with words like but in them. "There's something wrong , wejust haven't been able to figure out what yet." "What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Well Mister Jagger," Doctor Black said, "he's in some kind of a coma and we can't figure out why. What did you say happened?" Dean looked distracted and said "We were hunting…" "Hunting?" Doctor Black asked.
Dean mentally kicked himself, that was sloppy, "Yeah… deer hunting," Dean attempted to recover, "we ran into some kind of wild buck, must have been nutty or something it charged and got my brother before I could stop it. Got him with one of it's horns."
"I see," Doctor Black said sounding unconvinced, "Was he hit on the head, drinking, anything like that?" "No," Dean said, "not that I know of. What are you doing to get him out of the coma?"
"There's not much we can do," Doctor Black said, "we're going to run some tests to try and figure out why he's in the coma but until we pinpoint the cause we're just going to have to hope he comes out of it on his own."
"On his own?" Dean said confused, "Does that happen?" "Sometimes," Doctor Black said, "but the next few hours will be critical. If he doesn't come out of it by then the odds that he ever will drop sharply."
"I see." Dean said in a hollow voice, "There anything I can do?" Doctor Black considered the question briefly and said, "Talk to him."
Dean looked confused, "Talk to him?" "Yes," Doctor Black said, "I've seen cases where people in comas come out of it because they had someone they know talking to them."
Dean simply nodded and said, "In that case you know where you can find me." Then he turned and went into Sam's room.
They had reached Pastor Jim's church in record time and Dean had insisted on carrying Sam inside Jim's humble living quarters.
John had called ahead before they left the motel so Pastor Jim already had a bed ready and waiting for Sam and showed Dean where it was.
Once Sam was settled Pastor Jim and their dad went out of the room and Dean stayed with Sam. Kneeling by his little bed he held Sam's hand and with tears starting to form he said, "I'm sorry Sammy. I'm sorry I got you hurt and I promise here and now I will never let anything bad happen to you again."
In the silence that followed Dean could just make out the sounds of Pastor Jim and their Dad talking.
"Jim. What was I thinking bringing my own sons with me while I hunted? Especially when hunting a Shtriga, I mean they feed on kids. I might as well have been using them as bait."
"No John," Pastor Jim said, "don't blame yourself. You told me that you wanted to keep them close, to keep them safe… Right now you have to focus, get back on the trail before that thing disappears, if that happens it could be years before you get another shot."
"Yeah," John said, "I know you're right. Is Sammy going to be ok?" "Yes," Pastor Jim said and this news made Dean's heart rise to hear it, "from what you told me the Shtriga didn't fully feed, he will be a little sick, but there won't be any serious or lasting effects. I doubt he will even remember any of it."
"That's something at least," John said sounding relieved at the news but also a little sad that he allowed it to happen at all. "You got any more of those consecrated rod iron rounds? I think I used up most of mine in the motel."
"As a matter of fact," Pastor Jim said, "I put some aside after you called, just in case." Then they walked off and Dean could hear no more.
Dean slowly entered Sam's room as if he was sneaking into some horrible monster's lair. When he entered he saw Sam lying in the bed with an IV and assorted other wires and tubes for a moment he thought that should be me there, my place is, and always will be, between Sammy and danger.
As he slowly walked over he could feel himself starting to tear up again, normally he would fight it, or hide it or make some kind of joke to distract from it, but there was no point now so he just let them flow.
As he reached the bed he pulled a nearby chair over and sat down, then taking Sam's hand he said, "Hey Sammy, the saw bones says you're fine so stop loafing and let's get out of town."
Silence. The silence was too much. Dean took a deep breath and said, "Seriously, the doc told me to come in and talk to you, kind of help you come out of this coma thing, so come on I'm here, wake up. You have to wake up; I can't do all of this alone. I've kind of gotten used to having you around and it wouldn't be the same without my sidekick geek boy to do all the research and to keep me on the straight and narrow."
"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean said wiping tears from his eyes, "I told you long ago that I failed you once and that I wouldn't let it happen again, and now I have. I'm sorry I should have been there, I should have taken that stinger in the gut."
"Not to worry though," Dean said moving in and starting to whisper, "while they were working on you I called everyone, everyone in Dad's book, everyone whose number is programmed into either of our cell phones, the whole gang. They all know what's happening and they're all in research mode, one of them is bound to find something out, we both know these doctors wouldn't have a clue."
Dean pulled back and saw Sam's face, he actually looked peaceful, like he was getting the best rest he had gotten since Dean came to Palo Alto and asked for his help in finding their dad. Maybe at least you will get some rest from visions and nightmares for a change.
"Sammy," Dean began again, "this isn't the first time I failed you but just like the last time I will fix it I promise. You probably don't remember but after the Shtriga attacked you when we were kids I helped you get better then too…"
Pastor Jim came in with a small wooden tray and laid it on the side of the bed. "How is our patient?" He asked Dean who had refused to budge from Sam's bedside.
"I don't know uncle Jim," Dean said not even looking up. "Well then," Pastor Jim said trying to sound upbeat and cheerful, "Maybe you should take a break. I didn't know if you were hungry or anything so I brought you a snack."
"No thanks uncle Jim," Dean said politely but firmly, "I don't want to take my eyes off of Sammy. Last time I did that he got hurt, I have to watch out for him." Dean still didn't look up so Pastor Jim couldn't see the tears in his sad little eyes, but he knew they were there anyway.
"Listen," Pastor Jim said firmly but lovingly as he sat on the bed near Dean, "you know that what happened isn't your fault don't you?" Dean didn't say anything. "You're a kid, you shouldn't have to worry about the grown up stuff that your dad and I and people like us deal with, you will have plenty of time for that when you're older."
"I broke our dad's rules," Dean said simply, "I left the motel room and didn't watch out for Sammy and he got hurt." "I know," Pastor Jim said sadly, "but it's going to be ok, Sam is going to be just fine."
"But," Dean said, finally turning to face Pastor Jim with tears streaming down his cheeks, "if I had just done as our dad told me to, if I had followed the rules like I usually do Sammy wouldn't be sick now.
Pastor Jim didn't know what to say, he simply reached over and grabbed Dean's hand and Dean collapsed in his arms, "What's done is done," Pastor Jim said, "now all we can do is make it right. Take care of Sam and nurse him back to health. That will make it right."
Somehow Dean knew Pastor Jim was right, that was exactly what he had wanted to do and now he was telling Dean that it was the right thing to do. Dean would never be able to forget, not anymore than he could ever hope to change what had happened, but he could make it right.
"So you see," Dean said, "I stayed by your bed that whole time and I got you well and that's what I'm going to do this time too."
Just then a nurse came in to check on them. For a split second Dean couldn't help but think how hot she was but he quickly put that notion out of his mind, he had to focus on Sammy now and nothing else.
"Do you need anything?" the nurse asked with a smile. "Any other time I would have some kind of come on to go with that but my brother's in a bad way, so no, thanks anyway."
"Well," the nurse said turning to leave, "they're going to be coming to get him for some tests so you might want to try and get some sleep or at least some coffee, I'm sure you're exhausted."
You have no idea. Dean thought as he watched her, with a tinge of regret, walk out of the room. Someone up there has a real thing against me. He thought as he took a deep breath and turned back to Sam.
Dean was about to start talking again when Doctor Black came back with some other people. "We have to take your brother up for some tests, if you would like to use the time to get some rest feel free to use the other bed, it's empty at the moment, or if you would like some coffee or something to eat the cafeteria is open all night."
"Thanks," Dean said flatly, "I would like to come up with my brother while you run the tests." "I'm afraid that's against hospital policy Mister Jagger. I understand your concern and I wouldn't want another altercation like before but you're just going to have to wait down here."
Dean was way to tired to argue and he certainly didn't want to get tossed out of the place so he couldn't help Sam. "Fine," Dean said harshly, "just make sure you take good care of him."
"I can assure you," Doctor Black said, "your brother is getting the best of care." Dean wasn't entirely sold on that but let the remark go as they moved Sam to a gurney and took him for testing.
Pastor Jim knocked on the door before entering the room this time and heard Dean's faint voice telling him to come in.
"Dean," Pastor Jim said, "you've been sitting there for hours, you need to think about your own health just as much as Sam's. You need to get some sleep."
Dean looked over, "Can I sleep here, on the floor, in case Sammy needs me?" Pastor Jim said, "I thought you might ask that so I dug out some blankets. You can make a bed right next to his if you like."
"Thank you," Dean said politely, "I just can't leave him alone." Then as an after thought Dean asked, "That thing won't come back will it?"
Pastor Jim looked sad but quickly said, "No Dean it won't, it doesn't even know you are here and most truly evil things like that can't enter hallowed ground. We're safer here than just about anywhere in the world."
Dean seemed pleased to hear that but then frowned a bit and asked, "Is dad safe?" Pastor Jim seemed to consider the question and said, "Honestly, what he does is risky, but he knows what he is doing and his love for you keeps him safe. He will be alright as long as he has you and Sam to care about."
"That's good," Dean said taking the blankets Pastor Jim offered and spreading them out. As Pastor Jim turned to leave the room he saw, out of the corner of his eye, as Dean whispered good night to Sam and lightly kissed his forehead.
Dean sat in the corner of the virtually empty cafeteria trying to swallow down some of the worst coffee he had ever had the misfortune to taste. He considered it worse than the time he accidentally grabbed Sammy's fru fru gourmet junk by mistake.
While he finished up Dean turned on his cell phone and checked to see if he had any messages but was disappointed to see that there were none, then on a whim he pulled their dad's journal out of his inside coat pocket and opened it up to the information on the Scorpio-demons, it was a long shot but he hoped maybe he had made some kind of notes on their stingers and what they do, however, just as he figured, there was nothing.
Rubbing his eyes Dean struggled to figure out what to do, he had to pull Sammy through this mess, he just had to.
Once again he cursed himself for not being fast enough as the events of before replayed in his head. He should have known what was going to happen, he should have been the one to take the stinger; he should be the one in the coma!
Dean couldn't even begin to imagine what he would do if Sammy didn't… he couldn't even finish the thought. He knew that he couldn't make it without Sammy anymore. Not since they got back together and spent all that time looking for their dad.
Somewhere along the way they became brothers again and the idea of being separated, especially like this made Dean feel so hollow inside, with their dad gone they were the only family they had left and he couldn't…. wouldn't… lose Sam too.
Dean woke up in the middle of the night. He had a dream that the monster was back after all and that it was attacking Sammy again.
Dean groped in the dark for a weapon but suddenly remembered they were at Pastor Jim's and he didn't have a weapon.
By the time Dean stood up the image was gone and he realized it had been a dream, the monster wasn't back, but Sammy was moving, he had opened his eyes.
Dean leaned in and whispered, "You ok Sammy?" Sam seemed barely awake, barely aware of his surroundings. "What happened Dean? Where are we?" "Something came into the motel room; dad saved you and took us to uncle Jim's. Now, he's on the trail of it, he's going get it for what it did and I'm going help you get all better and everything will be back like it was."
Sam smiled a weak smile, "I like uncle Jim's it's peaceful." Then he went back to sleep. Dean smiled to himself and whispered, "Yes it is and it's safe."
By the time they brought Sam back to his room from the tests Dean had already been there for awhile but instead of sleeping he was standing in the corner looking out the window.
When he heard them coming in he turned and said, "It's about time. How did the tests go?" Doctor Black was there at the head of the group and went over to where Dean was standing.
"All of the tests we've gotten back so far have come back negative," Doctor Black explained, "he's not slipping any further into his coma but we still haven't found any indications as to it's cause."
"What's next?" Dean asked in a low, sad, voice. "There are still tests that haven't come back yet, but if they don't tell us anything we will be back at square one."
"In the meantime," Dean said, "I'm back to talking to him." Doctor Black simply nodded and once Sam was back into his bed and situated they left. "I will leave you to it Mister Jagger, I will let you know when the rest of the test results come in."
Dean simply grunted and walked back over to the bed. "What did I tell ya' Sammy," Dean said forcing a sly grin that lacked the genuine emotion it usually had, "Doctors don't have a clue. I haven't heard from the others yet but don't worry, someone will pull through."
Dean heard the door creak and for a moment the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Was it that thing back after all, like in his dreams?
As it turned out it was uncle Jim. He had been trying to be quiet so as not to wake Dean but he had heard him each time he came in to check on them, every half hour like clockwork, because Dean had hardly ever been asleep.
This time Dean popped his head up and in a tired little voice asked, "What time is it?" Pastor Jim's silhouette moved closer and said "it's half past four in the morning. Has Sam woke up?"
Dean grinned a bit and said, "For a few minutes. He didn't know what happed to him or where he was but he was happy when I told him we were here." "Yes," Pastor Jim said, "Sam has always liked it here. He told me once he found it peaceful."
Dean simply smiled again. "What's that uncle Jim?" Dean asked seeing a large metal thermos in his hand.
"Oh this?" Pastor Jim said, "I brought it for Sam. It's a little home remedy I mixed up that will help him get over what ails him." Dean nodded and asked, "Can I give it too him?"
Pastor Jim said, "I think that would be a great idea Dean. I will leave it with you, when he wakes up again pour some of it into the little cup on top and get him to sip it, slowly if he takes it too fast he won't be able to keep it down. He needs to drink it all but only a little at a time."
"Yes sir," Dean said like he had said to his dad so many times before. "Good boy," Pastor Jim said rustling the hair on top of his head. Dean liked it when he did that; it reminded him of his dad and made him feel safe when his dad was gone.
Once Pastor Jim gave him the thermos he left the room again, he knew Dean needed to do as much of this on his own as he could. It was the only way that Dean would ever find any kind of peace with what had happened to Sam.
He just hoped that concoction he found would work. The books said it was the perfect Shtriga antidote but you had to take a lot of stuff in the books with a grain of salt and he had to substitute some of the ingredients since this was all so last minute.
A few minutes after Pastor Jim left the room Sam started to wake up again. "Dean?" He said weakly, "I had a weird dream… some thing in black was standing over me… then there were gunshots and you told me we were at uncle Jim's place."
"We are," Dean said soothingly, "uncle Jim was just in here and left something for you. You have to drink some of it, he said it would make you feel better." As Dean told Sam this he opened the thermos and poured some of the hot yellowish liquid into the little cup.
Sitting down next to Sam he took his head and leaned it back. Sam's eyes were opened but Dean could tell they were not focused. "Stay with me Sammy, please" Dean said, "Come on, sip this."
Dean held the little cup to Sam's lips and was able to get some of it down him before he started to pull away. "It's ok Sammy, that's enough for now." Dean said trying to soothe him.
He stayed with him with Sam's head in his lap until Sam went back to sleep then he sat there and watched him as he slept. Dean didn't know if the stuff was already taking effect or if, more likely, it was his imagination but Sam's cheeks seemed to start to regain their color and he seemed a little better. For the first time since Sam was attacked Dean felt like he might actually be all right.
Dean snapped his head back up. Damn it, he thought I dozed off. "Sorry about that Sammy he said standing up and taking Sam's hand. He hadn't moved since the doctors brought him back from the tests.
"I don't know if you really can hear me or not Sammy," Dean said sadly, "but if you can you have to come back to me. What am I supposed to do? I told you once that you and dad are all I have and now that dad's gone, it's just you and me. You have to make it Sammy." At this point Dean was starting to cry again and out of habit he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.
"I never told you this Sammy but those years you were away at school…" Dean started almost fighting with himself about if he should say it our not, "were some of the lonliest years of my life."
"Sure dad was around but you know how he can get on a job," Dean paused, "and of course there was Cassie, she was really great, but at the end of the day I was always wondering what you were doing, where you were and if you were ok or not."
Dean looked up, his eyes glistening with small tears and this time he fought his habit and didn't wipe them away, this time he wanted to leave them.
"I even looked up your number and address once but I never worked up the guts to use them. Honestly, I didn't think you would want me to. I wouldn't even go with dad when he would swing by and check in on you. I told him, hell I told myself it was because I was still angry with you for leaving but really I was afraid. Afraid that I wouldn't be able to just watch from a distance, that I would want to talk to you and terrified that you wouldn't want to talk to me."
"The time we spent on the road looking for dad," Dean said, his voice shaking, "aside from worrying about him and trying to find him that was the best time in life. Then when we did find him, or actually he found us, and we were hunting together again, as a family, even with the two of you fighting I was happy we were a family again, even if for only a little while."
"All things considered, all the bad times, all the crap that we slugged through I will say at least one good thing came out of it all, you and I got to be brothers again and I wouldn't trade that for anything. I…." Dean stopped he wasn't sure if he should say it. He had always felt it but he hadn't really said it, not to Sam, he finally took a deep breath, leaned in close and whispered in Sam's ear, "I love you Sammy. You have to come back to me… please."
Dean had fallen asleep holding Sam's head so when he woke up again it startled Dean awake as well.
"Dean?" Sam said in a tiny voice. "How ya' feeling Sammy?" Dean asked. "I feel…better. Did I dream it or are we at uncle Jim's?" "Yeah Sammy," Dean said, "We're at uncle Jim's. He's letting us stay while dad gets the thing that did this to you."
Sam seemed to nod as if he understood. "You going to make me drink anymore of that stuff? It was nasty." Dean smiled, "I wish I could say no Sammy but uncle Jim says it will make you better. It's medicine and you need it. If you take it, for me, I will be sure save you all the Lucky Charms you want later."
Sam smiled and said, "Ok Dean, for you I will take more. Only for you we can share the Lucky Charms." Dean started to tear up again as he poured out more of the stuff Uncle Jim had made and got Sam to slowly swallow it.
Sam made a face but once he was done he said, "There Dean, I did it for you, I drank it all…." He was going to say more but apparently part of the stuff's purpose was to make him sleepy because he went to sleep again, with a peaceful look on his face.
That's my boy, Dean thought as he watched Sam peacefully sleeping with his head still in Dean's lap.
Dean hadn't let go of Sam's hand since the time he had accidentally dozed off, he wanted to make sure that if something like that happened again that Sam would still know that he was around.
Dean wasn't really sure what more he could say to Sam, it was rare for him to just let go and pour out his heart but he was doing it in hopes of saving Sam and had pretty much told him everything he had been keeping bottled up for years and thus far it was having no effect.
There was really only one thing he could think of that might get through to Sam and as things stood he was more than willing to try anything.
Dean stood up and leaned near Sam. "Sammy," Dean said, "you often called me on keeping my emotions bottled up and not sharing them with you and you were right. I don't know I guess it's this job or maybe just the way I am. I'm a lot like our dad that way I guess. I mean I know he loved us and I'm sure despite all the fighting and everything that you know it to."
"I just don't know how to open up like you do. I told you once that I admired you and was proud of you for knowing what you want and going after it but I also admire you for being able to open up like I've rarely been able to do . Seems like it takes something like this to get me to even try. I guess what I'm getting at is, you were…are… right I should be more open, and if not to my own brother, then to who?"
Then Dean leaned in and did something extremely rare. He carefully lifted Sam up and put his arms around him giving the kind of big hug that part of him had wanted to give him for a long time. When he did that it all flowed out, the emotion he had been holding back hit him like a tidal wave.
He held the embrace for what seemed like a long time then suddenly he heard something. Sam moaned a bit then said, in a weak voice. "Dean? Are you hugging me?"
Dean carefully put him back down and said, "Of course not Sammy, your pillows needed adjusting." Sam smiled weakly and said, "You weren't touching my pillows."
"Whatever," Dean said seeking to change the subject. Then Sam's eyes narrowed and he asked, "Are you crying." "No," Dean said falling into his old habits, "I'm allergic to the hospital cleaners, man those things are strong."
Sam simply let the matter drop. "What happened? I feel like a wrecking ball hit me in the stomach."
Dean smiled a bit; this time it had all the emotion it usually had. "You're slipping up there Sammy. You let the Scorpio-demon get the drop on you and took it's stinger in the stomach. It was kind of touch and go there for awhile and of course the docs here were of no help. Which reminds me, as soon as you're up to it we had better blow this taco stand, I don't think that doc bought my story."
"Why, what did you tell him?" Sam asked slowly sitting up. "I told him we were out deer hunting when a wild buck got ya' with a horn." "No wonder he didn't buy that," Sam said laughing slightly. "There are no dear in this area." Dean got a surprised look on his face, "Now you tell me college boy."
"How are you feeling?" Dean asked. "Other than the hole in my stomach I feel fine, we can leave if that's what you're worried about." "Not totally," Dean admitted, "but we had probably better make ourselves scarce before someone starts asking for your side of the story and asks questions we can't answer."
The light of the rising sun slowly lit up the room as Dean continued to watch Sam sleep. He had woken up more and more through the rest of the night and had, to make Dean happy, drunk the rest of the medicine that Pastor Jim had made.
Just then Pastor Jim knocked on the door again and Dean told him to come in. "How's he doing?" Pastor Jim asked.
"He took all of the stuff you gave me for him," Dean told him proud of the job he had done. "Good work Dean," Pastor Jim said sitting next to Sam and examining him.
"Oh," Pastor Jim said, "he's going to be fine. A few hours sleep and when he wakes up he will be his old self. Now Dean I need to talk to you for a minute."
Dean was worried, he couldn't imagine what Pastor Jim wanted to say. "When Sam wakes up and is all better," Pastor Jim began, "he probably won't remember any of this and as scary as it could be for a child his age I don't think you should tell him."
"Ok," Dean said slightly saddened that Sam wouldn't know what he did to help him but also partially relieved because he also wouldn't know how he had failed him. "If that's what you want."
Pastor Jim smiled and said, "I think it would be the best thing for Sam. The way things are he will be exposed to this kind of thing soon enough, your dad has already begun to teach you a little, I know. It would just be for the best if Sam was taught these things by your dad, when he thinks the time is right."
Dean couldn't agree more so he smiled and said, "You're right. I promise I won't tell Sammy any of this ever." "Good boy," Pastor Jim said getting up to leave the room, "now, you need to get some sleep. Your dad called and he should be back here by noon, maybe one o'clock, you need to be well rested and ready to go."
The news made Dean smile and he felt safer and felt that Sammy was safer now too because he knew that if his dad was on his way home he had gotten the thing.
"Doctor," the nurse said to Doctor Black. "The blood test results on Samuel Jagger, the coma patient in room 42."
Doctor Black looked at the results, and then he looked at them again. He would have looked at them a third time but he doubted they would make any more sense so he didn't bother.
The nurse must have read the look on his face because she asked, "What's the matter Doctor?" "These test results…" Doctor Brown struggled for the words and finally said, "according to these there's a foreign substance in the blood. The lab couldn't figure out what it was, they say the closest equivalent is scorpion venom. But, by the amount
that's in the patient he would have to have been stung something like a hundred times. It also, notes that the effects are similar to a muscular inhibitor, in other words the toxin wouldn't kill, it would paralyze."
"Is that even possible?" the nurse asked puzzled, she was no expert but she had lived in the area all of her life and wasn't aware of anything with venom like that, sure there were a lot of missing persons in the woods but those were usually attributed to wild animals not massive groups of scorpions with weird venom.
"Until I read this report," Doctor Brown said, "I wouldn't have thought so but they say they ran the tests multiple times, always with the same results."
At that point Doctor Black dropped the folder on his desk and took off for room 42 as fast as he could run, but when he got there the room was empty. He checked the closet and the patient's clothes were gone, all that was left was the dressing gown he had worn and a note that said simply:
Thanks Doc,
My brother is better now so we're going to get out of your hair.
Doctor Black thought about calling security to check the place out, to try and find them but with the disturbing test results and the patient's sudden departure he started to feel it was time to cut his losses and pretend none of it ever happened.
Dean insisted on helping Sam to the Impala. "We don't want you to snap a stitch or something, that doc back there is bound to have questions, especially when some of those test results come back, man I would love to see the look on his face when he sees the blood work with that Scorpio-demon junk in it."
Sam smiled and said, "Hopefully he will be smart and forget, I don't think the medical community is ready for something as hard to explain as that.
Just as they were pulling out of the parking lot Dean's cell phone rang so he pulled it out of his pocket and said, "Yeah!"
It was Bobby on the other end of the line, "Sorry to be so late getting back to you Dean but those Scorpio-demons are hard to find information on." "Tell me about it," Dean said, "if dad hadn't already done so much of the legwork we would probably still be at it. But Bobby…"
Before Dean could tell him that everything was all right Bobby cut him off, "but you don't haven anything to worry about. I finally found it, an 18th century account of a guy who had been stung by one, just like Sam, he's going to be fine. According to what he wrote it just puts you into a coma-like state for a few hours. You can hear everything going on around you but otherwise you're out."
"Can still hear everything?" Dean asked. "Yeah," Bobby said sounding a little unnerved, "nasty bastards, you can hear and are fully aware of what's happening as they take you back to their lair and feed on you." "Ok, thanks for that Bobby. Hey, Bobby, can you call around, tell everyone the news, I would do it myself but I have a couple of bits of unfinished business and I'm exhausted."
"Sure thing Dean, just come around when Sam is up and let me know how it all went." Bobby said sounding concerned despite the news. "Sure will," Dean said, "Later Bobby." Then he closed his phone and put it in his pocket.
"So," Sam asked sounding much better, "What did Bobby have to say?" "Nothing we didn't already know," Dean said, "except that you could hear every word I said."
Sam smiled a bit but it faltered when he saw the look on Dean's face. "Yeah," Sam admitted, "I wasn't going to say anything because I know how you feel about that sort of thing, but I heard it all."
Dean looked put out then said, "Hey, you gotta remember I thought you were a goner, I would have said anything to get you to wake up." "So," Sam asked with a look of concentration, "You didn't mean any of it?"
Dean looked nervous and said, "I wouldn't say that, of course I meant it, it's just…" Sam smiled a bit and said, "I know Dean, I understand, look we don't have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Thanks," Dean said simply, "I did mean every word of it, I just…" "I know," Sam said simply, "if it helps any I feel exactly the same about you, every word of it and I never really held any kind of grudge and I would have been happy to see you in Palo Alto if you had wanted to come."
"I know Sammy," Dean said. "Oh," Sam said, "and I love you too man." Dean rolled his eyes and blushed a bit but Sam knew he was glad to hear it. "How about we just say this job never happened."
"Speaking of which," Sam said changing the subject for Dean, "where are we going?" "We have to get rid of that thing's body. Can you imagine if some camper stumbled on the thing it would be all over the tabloids, not that anyone takes them seriously but still."
Sam took the point and simply nodded and leaned back. "Don't go to sleep on me Sammy, you've slept enough for the time being." Sam smiled and said, "I promise no comas for me for awhile."
Sam and Dean had woken up around nine that morning and Pastor Jim had made them a nice breakfast.
Sam had a lot of questions about what happened and Dean was careful with how he answered them, remembering what Pastor Jim had told him, and after awhile Sam forgot all about his questions.
True to his word around noon their dad came back and they were glad to see him. Dean always felt sad, once the initial happiness wore off, because when their dad would come home from a hunt he seemed not quite like himself, at least for awhile. This time it was worse than normal.
"How are my boys," their dad said in an attempt to sound anything other than sad, tired and wore down. Dean was quick to say, "Sammy is great he's as good as new dad." John smiled to see Sam up and running around and being like his old self, maybe it would be all right after all, even if that Shtriga thing got away. There would be other chances, he would be sure Dean knew everything he needed to know to deal with it should it come back, but he would never tell Dean that it got away this time, if he knew that John was sure the guilt would weigh him down for the rest of his life.
After their dad and Pastor Jim had a little private talk he came back and said, "You boys ready to hit the road?" Sam wasn't so sure but Dean was more than ready, he loved traveling with his dad and Sammy.
"Tell Pastor Jim thank you for letting you stay over and let's go." Their dad said lovingly. "Thank you uncle Jim," Sam and Dean said in unison, which put a small smile on their dad's face. He turned and shook Pastor Jim's hand and thanked him for his help, and then they were gone and back on the road.
"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Sam asked as Dean unloaded some stuff, he was going to burn the body rather than just bury it because he didn't have the steam to dig a deep grave and if it was too shallow someone might find it.
"No Sammy, I don't want you to bust a stitch besides if there's one thing I can handle on my own it's burning some stinkin' demon's corpse."
"Alright," Sam said guessing that Dean had a point, "if you need any help just let me know." "Will do," Dean said walking off to where they left the body.
When Dean found it again he was amazed at how much damage he had done to it. He knew he lost it out there when Sammy got hurt but he had no idea. He was almost temped to leave it, the thing was such a mess no one would be able to figure out what it was.
He decided to go through with his original plan anyway. He had a feeling he needed to do this, Sammy would call it closure, but he would call it tying up loose ends.
"Well," Dean said to the remains, "you son of bitch, you made me think Sammy was going to die. You caused me a lot of pain tonight and I don't mean when you batted me into the tree. You're just lucky Sammy's ok and that I can only kill you once."
With that he poured gasoline on the remains and pulled out his matches. He had never enjoyed burning remains more than he did this time and for a moment he wondered if there was something wrong with that but he eventually decided it was ok, this once, the thing had hurt his Sammy and that was reason enough.
Once the remains were pretty much burned away he put the fire out and threw some dirt over it so it wouldn't show so much then walked back to the car.
"You ok?" Sam asked Dean as he climbed inside and started up the car. "Me?" Dean said with a smirk, "you're the one with a hole in his gut."
"Yeah," Sam said, "but somehow I think you got the worst end of the deal." Dean looked over in the guise of backing out and said, "I thought you said we didn't have to talk about this."
"We don't have to," Sam said, "I just thought after everything you said you might want too."
Dean looked at him square in the eyes this time and said, "Not really. All I want to do is clean up and sleep for a while. You got some rest, I on the other hand, have been up all night and could really use some sleep."
"Suit yourself," Sam said "but if you should decide…." "Ok Sammy," Dean said, "If I decide to spill my guts again you will be the first to know." Then he pointed the Impala in the general direction of Bobby's place and they drove off.
