.BLACK MAGIC.
.1.
"M'fine Sam." came Dean's annoyed tone as he clenched his hand around the steering wheel, knuckles turing white, as he repeated the sentence for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Dean, I just wanna be sure. Who knows what that witch did to you, man." replied Sam as his eyebrows knit together in worry. Leave it to his older brother to play the stoic hero. Invincible. Untouchable. Unhurt-able. Stupid. Thought Sam.
"Who cares," Dean replied with a shrug, never taking his eyes off the road, as the impala rumbled on down the highway. "She's dealt with. Problem solved."
"She's dealt with Dean?" Sam asked sardonically, eyebrows pitching up as he shook his head in disbelief. "I'd hardly consider her taking a swan dive off the roof dealt with. Plus-"
"What's not dealt with? We come to town to work a case. Find a friggin witch, which I hate by the way, realize we have to figure out some way to make the broad stop doing her freaky mojo because we certainly can't be ganking humans, but instead she makes it especially easy for us when she, ya know," -Dean makes a downward gesture with his hand as whistle escapes his lips and dwindles to silence- "takes the plunge. So personally Sammy I don't see how this can't be problem solved."
"It's not problem solved because she did something to you Dean. That's why it's not problem solved." and Sam's yelling now. Trying to do anything to get it through his brother's head that maybe, just maybe, something could be seriously wrong with him.
"What are you talking about. I feel fine." Dean says calmly. Composed. Unconcerned. Because he certainly isn't taking Sam's bait and getting into a yelling match half way between Kansas and Ohio. "Eh, why don't you relax a little while your at it, huh, mother hen." Dean says with a pointed look, glancing out the corner of his eye towards his little brother sitting restlessly in the passenger seat.
"Dean, witches have powerful magic. This isn't something to mess around with." Sam replies, not yelling, but certainly with a frantic edge to his voice. Would it kill Dean to take him seriously just once.
Dean realizes he's forcing every muscle in his body to not just let his head fall back in exasperation against the seat. Because god damnit if Sam was anything but persistent. But never one to break cover, and show true emotion, like how much he'd like to just punch his annoying little brother to make him shut up, he cracks a joke instead. "Wait. What?…Witches have magic?" he lets out while feigning a look of astonishment.
"Dean!" Sam bellows loudly in disbelief. Too loudly for the confines of the impala, "I'm not kidding around here." and Sam's beginning to wonder if just reaching over to the drivers side and throttling his brother would help the situation at all.
"Sam," Dean barks out harshly, his patience starting to run low, "Just leave it alone alright? I'm fine. Okay? I'm fine." Dean continues in a low growl as he does everything humanly possible to convey the authenticity in his voice, because really, he does feel fine.
Sam slouches in the passenger seat and continues to sit silently, head bowed, lip pouted as his hands twist into the material of his sweater. A distraction.
He misses when Dean looks to him and notices Sam's sullen face and feels the glum atmosphere that has taken over the car. Dean shakes his head, let's out a huff and an eye roll before he speaks again, "I'm Fiiiine." Dean drawls out slowly. He's not sure what he can do to make his brother believe him, but right about now, he'd try anything.
"Sure." Sam says shortly. Quietly. Never looking up from feeding his hands through his sweater.
Dean gives another huff as he places his elbow against the door and rests his head against his hand. Typical Sam, he smirks to himself. "Cheer up grumpy guss. Today is a good day. There's one less witch in the world," he says with a smile. "I'm on the road with my little brother." He continues as he slaps the back of his hand against Sam's chest, in a brotherly affection sort of way before mumbling to himself, "pain in the ass little brother, but still."
"You feel fine?" Sam mutters out. Looks up to Dean from his slouched position with worry etching every inch of his face. Searching Dean's for a lie, or cover-up.
"Sammy, I feel great." Dean says sincerely, with an underlying pleading for Sam to just believe him.
Dean watches as a small nod envelopes Sam's head and he knows not to expect anything more from him. "Come on you hungry? let's get some lunch. I love me some lunch" Dean says out eagerly before taking the next right and heading into town to find him and his brother some food.
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Lunch had been rather uneventful. In fact the rest of the day had been uneventful as both boys continued their trek to their next destination. Their next hunt. But after a couple of hours on the road and dark starting to set in, Dean was doing anything he could to hide the pain in his stomach from Sam.
"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Sam questions his brother as he noticed him shifting restlessly in the drivers seat.
"Nothing's wrong with me." Dean snarks back, "What's wrong with you…besides the obvious"
"Haha." Sam deadpanned, "Dean you've been twitching around since Cincinnati. What gives?" Sam continued as he gave his brother a serious look.
"Oh Sammy, that's really sweet of you to keep such a close eye on me, but really, you can stop now" Dean answers with a fake smile towards his brother.
"Kind of hard not to keep a close eye on you Dean. We've been sitting in the same car for hours." Sam said out annoyed as he taped the pen in his hand against the open folder in his lap that he was reading through.
"What have we got?" Dean asked out, changing the subject, as he nodded towards the folder.
"You're unbelievable" Sam muttered out to himself as he reached down leafing through some papers.
"I'm awesome," Dean answered with a huge grin, "now come on, what have we got?"
"oookay," Sam drawled out, "four murders in Middlefield. The victims have been going missing for the past month. One every Monday."
"So evidently Mondays have some kind of connection to the disappearances." Dean shrugged. He'd seen weirder in the supernatural world. "The bodies were all found when?" he questioned out, and then held in a grunt as a stabbing pain ripped across his stomach.
"Victims went missing on a Monday, bodies turned up on the Friday following." Sam spoke quietly as he rubbed the smooth plastic of the pen across his forehead, deep in concentration, trying to figure out the case.
"So what are we thinking?" Dean questioned out as another pain churned deep in his stomach and he brought his free hand over, clutching tight against his pain ridden belly.
"I don't know, Dean. I mean it's not like spirit's or monsters or whatever generally keep to a schedule. It sounds more like-" Sam stopped talking abruptly when he noticed Dean's hand wrapped around his stomach. "Hey, you okay?" he questioned with concern as he noticed Dean's furrowed brows, and tense jaw. Even in the dimming dark, Sam didn't miss the paleness that had washed over Dean, and the beads of sweat beginning to pop up across his skin.
"What? Yeah." Dean said a little too enthusiastically, "must have been some bad food." he continued.
Sam watched in worry, wondering if he should offer to take over driving as Dean's hands began to shake. But before he knew what was happening, the impala's breaks had locked up and the car was being steered towards the side of the road, coming to a quick stop. "Dean?" Sam half yelled at his brother as he watched him fling open the door and fall to the pavement. "Dean!" and now Sam was really yelling as he heaved his door open and ran around the car towards his brother.
Dean was mortified as he hovered on his hands and knees against the pavement, violent heaves overtaking his body and expelling his stomach contents. Just when he felt that the violent attack was finished, he doubled back over gagging hard, and gasping for air.
"Dean? Dean." Sam cried in panic as he dropped to the ground beside his brother, placing one hand on his brothers back and one grabbing a firm grip against his brothers upper arm as it looked like Dean was about ready to fall head first into the pavement with the effort of being sick. "Hey, hey, take it easy." Sam soothed, and he could have sworn he heard his brother say 'you take it easy' between painful gags.
When Dean was done being sick he felt Sam pull him up backwards onto his knees and he stayed there trying to catch his breath as he swayed dizzily on the spot. "Well that was fun." Dean let out as he stared into the dark night, the blowing wind cold against his sweat slicked face.
"Yeah. I'm driving" was all Sam said as he helped pull his brother to his feet. Dean staggered before Sam grabbed a firm grip of him and half dragged, half carried him around to the passenger side of the car. "Ok, easy" Sam let out as he helped lower Dean to the Impala's seat. "You good?" he questioned his brother who was sitting with his feet against the asphalt, arms hanging limply by his side. "Dean, you with me?" Sam questioned before Dean leaned forward and was puking down himself and onto Sam's shoes. "Nrraghh" Sam moaned out as he cupped the back of Dean's neck and pushed him further forward to puke while he moved his feet out of the way of being hit again.
" 'ammy, sorry." Dean moaned out between a heave, "sorr-" he tried to repeat before he was retching again.
"It's okay Dean, it's okay." Sam reassured his brother. "Last time you eat burrito's at some sketchy roadside diner huh, bro?"
Dean barked a painful laugh, wiping his mouth against the back of his arm, as he began to straighten himself up.
"You good for a minute?" Sam questioned his brother.
"M'good" Dean replied lazily, green eyes drooping against his chalky, pale, face as he sat half in the car half out, puke soaking into the front of his shirt.
Sam returned from the trunk of the car with some clothes and an old rag. "I figure you don't wanna change your pants on the side of the road," Sam said as he crouched down with the rag and wiped the spots of puke from Dean's jeans the best he could, "but we can at least change your shirt." He said before taking the rag, wiping his own shoes off, and then tossing the cloth into the bushes. "Come on, get your shirt off." Sam said as he reached towards Dean and grabbed ahold of his shirt.
Dean lifted his hands, pushing Sam away from his clothing, "I can change myself, Sam." He declared in annoyance as he worked his arms out of the sleeves. A dizzy spell washed over him and he took a minute to bite back the nauseous feeling that was creeping back up on him. A shiver ran over his body when the cold night air fell upon his skin. "M'cold" he moaned out to Sam, after dropping his puke covered shirt to the ground, and didn't even argue when Sam moved forward to help him into another t-shirt. Dean was tired. More tired then he'd ever been, and everything was aching.
"Alright, I'm going to get us to the first motel I can find." Sam said as he dropped the shirt over Dean's head and helped guide his brother's arms into the sleeve.
"No Sam," Dean protested, "We have to get to Middlefield."
"Were not going to Middlefield, Dean." Sam said sternly, like he was talking to a small child.
"Have. to." Dean moaned out between a gut wrenching pain.
"You can't do the job sick Dean. Were not going. Now here." Sam ordered out as he grabbed his hoodie and fed one of Dean's arms through it, followed by the other. "Are you done being sick Dean? Or are you going to go full exorcism again?" Sam questioned Dean.
"Think…I'm 'right" Dean moaned out. The nauseousness seemed to have settled for now but his stomach was still in knots, and his head was beginning to throb.
"Alright, just let me know if you need me to pullover." Sam said as he grabbed one of Dean's legs and helped him get it into the car, followed by the other.
When Sam got into the drivers seat he couldn't help but feel bad for how miserable his brother looked. Dean was slouched up against the Impala's door, one hand resting against his stomach, as the other one grabbed Sam's hood and pulled it up over his head. The dark blue hood drooped down across Dean's face, making a stark contrast between the paleness of the skin that it was covering.
Sam sighed before he put the car into drive in search of the nearest motel...
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