Title: When it rains, it pours.

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: A derelict mountain-top hotel, a blood-thirsty beast and a supernatural monsoon; what could possibly go wrong? Hurt!Sam hurt!Dean some comfort/awesome!Winchesters all around. Post 6x15 "The French Mistake"

Author's note: Since I got caught out in a remnant of Hurricane Isaac the other day and have since come up with a freakin head cold, so shall Sam suffer with me. Mwahahaha. XD

Also, I've taken pity on everyone and am posting this one a day early. Means you might have to wait a day longer for the next. Heh heh heh heh.

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

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"It's clear. Come on." Dean opened the door and slipped into the bright hall with Sam beside him. He checked the numbers on the nearest doors and chose a direction. He walked surely as if they belonged there and knew where they were going. He turned a corner and pushed Sam back against the wall out of sight, sliding in beside him. "Cop outside the room we want."

"Crap." Sam leaned around him to look and saw a man in uniform talking to a Doctor. He couldn't hear what they were saying but the doctor was shaking his head which didn't bode well for the 'Agent'. "I think they're leaving." He leaned back and let Dean have a look.

"Yep. They're going." Dean waited until both turned a corner at the far end and stepped out. "Come on. We probably only have a couple of minutes."

They jogged down the hall to the door. Dean tapped the '312' on the wall beside it and pushed it open slowly in case there was a nurse or someone else in the room. There wasn't. It was empty except for the single bed, the beep of the monitors and the blanket covered form atop it.

Sam eased in behind him and went to the bed, looking down at the face with a sinking feeling. "Oh crap, Dean."

"What? Who is it?" Dean turned from looking out the door and came up beside him. "Son of a bitch."

CHAPTER 2

"Rufus." Sam breathed and laid a hand on the older man's shoulder. His dark skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, mouth hanging open beneath an oxygen mask as though he were having difficulty breathing even with its aid and Sam could see several scrapes and cuts along his face, neck and arms that had been cleaned.

"Bobby's gonna blow a gasket." Dean commented and leaned in to tug aside the corner of the hospital issue gown at his other shoulder. Bandages wrapped around it and he gently peeled them back to reveal the same bite wound they had seen on the bodies in the morgue. "What the hell happened to you, old man?"

Sam twitched the sheet over him into place and took Dean's arm. "Come on. They'll be back." He tugged him to the door and looked out. "We need to call Bobby."

Dean gave Rufus' sleeping form a last glance and let the door close. They beat a hasty retreat back down the stairs and knocked out a window in a first floor room rather than pass the nurse at the desk again. "We gotta get him out of there." Dean said as he stepped into the rain again.

Sam shook his head. "Not until we know what's going on." He dashed to the Impala and climbed in with Dean. "Those machines might be the only thing keeping him alive."

"Dammit." Dean slapped a hand into the steering wheel and pulled away from the hospital. "Ok rule one. Don't get bitten." He glanced over to Sam. "I'm lookin' at you, jeopardy boy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "What the hell is this thing?" He dropped his head back on the seat as Dean drove and started sorting through every creature he could think of in his head. He was no wiser by the time they reached the motel and followed Dean into the room. Dean already has his phone out dialing Bobby.

"Bobby." Dean cut in to Bobby's usual greeting tirade. "Rufus is here and whatever this thing is, it took him down."

"Rufus? What in hell is that idjit doing there?" Bobby shouted. "And why didn't he call me?"

"Bobby." Dean cut in again and rolled his eyes to Sam when Bobby's griping continued. "Bobby!"

"What?" Bobby groused.

"He's in the hospital in a coma." Dean heard Bobby suck in a breath. "You done yellin' about him so we can figure out what did this?"

"Save his happy ass again." Bobby growled and dropped into the chair at his desk. "Stupid son of a bitch. Alright. Tell me whatcha got."

Sam listened to Dean fill Bobby in about the victims, the bites and their theories, such as they were. He got up and went to the door, seeing Dean's raised brows. "Food." Sam mouthed and went outside into the rain. He groaned and dashed out to the car again. He'd been more than ready to fall into bed and then his stomach reminded him they hadn't eaten anything since the last gas station and jerky was not going to hold them until morning.

Dean listened to the Impala's engine rumble away and put his attention back on the voice in his ear. "No, Bobby. No one's seen the thing except for the victims. I figure we'll head up to the old hotel tomorrow. Check it out in the daylight."

"Alright, look. I'm gonna dig around. See what I can turn up." Bobby scrubbed a hand over his face. "Dean, you boys watch your backs and…don't let that idjit Rufus die before I can kill his stupid ass."

Dean chuckled. "Do our best, Bobby." He hung up and sighed. "Well this is starting off well." He went to his bag and dug out the map he'd grabbed of the area at the last gas stop and spread it out on the table. There were only two roads up to the hotel; one the paved road off the highway leading out of town and the other a dirt road used by the Forest Rangers during wildfire season. He glanced up at the wide windows beside the door and smirked. No chance of a forest fire with the rain terminally coming down. He sat down and studied the area around the hotel. The building complex sat at the peak of one of the smaller mountains in the range surrounded by heavy forest. Sam said it had been shut down after being cut off by wildfires two years in a row; the guests had simply not come back the following year. In the years since, rumors of ghosts walking the halls drew a regular compliment of ghost hunters the Rangers fought a losing battle to keep out.

Dean glanced at his watch and out the windows. "How long's it take to find some take-out, Sammy?" He said softly and tried to ignore the little niggle of worry that bubbled up. He still couldn't forget the image of Sam seizing, sliding into stillness and waiting for a sign of life. He scrubbed a hand over his face. It made him nervous. He studied the map a while longer and looked at his watch again. "Come on, dammit." Dean rose and went to the door, flinging it open and looked out into the rainy night. "Where the hell are you?"

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Sam turned down yet another street in search of a restaurant still open. He was getting frustrated enough he'd take a grocery store and settle for microwaved soup. He pulled in to a gas station and parked under the awning before running inside. The attendant pointed him to a restaurant just outside of town. The rain seemed to know he was aggravated and began to pour harder. The wind picked up as well, rocking the Impala's body as he drove.

"Gimme a break." Sam groaned and slowed. A single dent on the car would earn him Dean's eternal ire he knew. He fought a sudden gust, turning the wheel against the wind. "Shit!" He felt the moment the water got between the tires and the road; felt the sudden give in the wheel and the sensation of floating as the Impala hydroplaned across the road, pushed by the wind. "No, no, no!" Sam yelled as the car slid over the water and slumped to a stop at an angle in the shallow ditch. "Dammit!"

Sam leaned forward and thumped his head into the steering wheel. "This…is not happening." He could already hear Dean's tirade. He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out to check for damage. He shivered in the hard rain and ducked his head. At least the wind had died down somewhat. He used the car to balance and went around the front. He smiled to find no damage and backtracked to the rear of the car. "Oh thank god." He breathed as he saw the car was undamaged. The wind suddenly gusted and blew him over into the ditch. Sam sputtered as he landed in the shallow water at the bottom.

He slapped his hands into the water and gave an inarticulate cry into the rain. He used the bumper of the Impala to get to his feet and climbed the few steps out of the ditch. The wind died and the rain lessened as he reached the driver's door. "Oh NOW you let up!" He shouted at the clouds and got into the car. It took him several tries to work the Impala out of the ditch and back on the road. Sam knew he was going to have fun explaining why the driver's seat was sodden to his brother when he got back. He gave up on food, his appetite gone and turned carefully on the mountain road to head back into town. Sam wiped water out of his eyes and then slammed on the brakes. He stared into the trees at the side of the road with narrowed eyes.

"What the hell?" Sam inched the car forward, turning slightly so the headlights went into the trees. "Huh." He'd been sure he'd seen something flash between the boughs of the trees for just a second; two red eyes he'd thought. The lights showed nothing but wet trees moving in the wind. He frowned and sped up, resisting the urge to get out and look for himself. The unusual rainfall in the area, the sudden wind putting him off the road and then the eyes; he wasn't going to be so stupid as to put himself out as bait if for no other reason than Dean would kill him. He smirked and kept an eye on the rearview mirror for any sign.

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Dean paced to the open door again and kicked it shut. "Dammit, Sam." He went to the table and grabbed his cell phone. It had been way too long for a damn food run and his nerves couldn't take it anymore. He was in the middle of dialing Sam's number when he heard the Impala's distinctive engine in the parking lot. He was at the door in three strides, throwing it open and could only stare in shock as his bedraggled brother parked and got out to walk over to him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean moved so Sam could go past him into the room and then grabbed Sam's arm. "What'd you do to my car?" Dean pulled Sam with him back out into the rain and stalked over to the front of the Impala. "Why is there mud all over her? What'd you do?"

"Can we go inside please?" Sam tried to tug his arm free ineffectually and rolled his eyes when Dean's grip tightened. "It wasn't my fault…I don't think."

"You don't think?" Dean glared at him.

Sam sneezed explosively and clapped a hand over his nose. "Dammit!" He yanked his arm free. "Inside. I am done being wet now." He turned on his heel and Dean let him go into the room.

Dean walked a circle around the Impala, eying every inch of her critically. The mud made him growl but he was relieved to see there was no overt damage. He left her there and went inside the room to find Sam's sopping jacket in a puddle on the floor and the bathroom door closed. "Sammy!" He pounded on the door. "You need to get your ass out here and tell me what happened?" Dean waited. "And where's the food?"

The bathroom door opened and Sam came out shirtless and rubbing a towel over his hair. "Didn't make it too food." He went to his bed and dug through his duffel, pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants. "Something blew me off the damn road outside of town."

"Wait. What?" Dean yanked the towel away from Sam as he sneezed again. "You wanna start from the beginning?"

"Can I just…get dry please?" Sam grabbed the clothes and headed for the bathroom again. "I can feel my head stuffing up as we speak."

Dean watched him close the door and swallowed the impatience. Sam was back and he was fine and his car was fine; he could wait five minutes. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and dropped onto the couch. Sam emerged a few minutes later looking less like a drowned rat and got himself a beer as well before sitting.

"Ok, so I think whatever we're hunting can control the elements…or at least the wind and the rain." Sam shrugged. "Also I may have caught a glimpse of it after I got the car out of the ditch."

"The ditch?" Dean lurched to his feet and went back to the door, throwing it open to look at his car again.

Sam cringed. "It wasn't a deep ditch ok? Didn't put a mark on her, I swear." He took a healthy gulp of his beer to fortify himself. "The rain kicked up and this insane wind blew me off the road." He sneezed again and cussed. "Then it picked up again and dumped in the damn ditch while I was checking the car."

Dean shut the room door and turned back to Sam, crossing his arms over his chest. "How about the part where you maybe saw it?" He worked on keeping the anger off his face that Sam had put himself in harm's way again, however unwittingly. "Was this while you were on your ass in the damn ditch? Tell me you at least had a weapon on you."

"Dude." Sam gestured into the bathroom and Dean stepped closer to look. Sam's pistol sat on a folded towel on the small counter. "It's as drenched as I am. Give me some credit. Of course I was armed." He drained his beer and set it aside. "I didn't see anything but a pair of eyes." He closed his own and tried to bring the moment back into focus. He shook his head. "No, just the eyes. They were red. Luminous. We should call Bobby."

Dean sighed. "I'll call him. You go take a shower before that cold sets in." He took his phone back out. "Not listening to you blow snot all night."

Sam smirked and stood going back to the bathroom. "Make sure to tell him about the weather control too."

Dean flipped him off and snapped his phone open. "This job gets better and better."

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"Bobby's still got no clue." Dean tossed his phone onto the table as Sam came out of the bathroom. "He called and checked on Rufus. No change but the Doctor told him the bite victims started weakening after a couple of days and were dead soon after."

"So we're on a clock." Sam nodded and rolled wearily onto his bed. "But we knew that. He have any idea what it is we're after?"

"Not yet. He said the weather crap helps." Dean shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll come out and say hi tomorrow."

Sam chuckled and pulled his blankets over him, burying his head underneath in a bid to escape the light. "Maybe it'll roll over and play dead for us too."

Dean smirked and grabbed his bag. He shut off the room light and went to the bathroom. Sam's gun still lay on the counter but his brother had taken it apart to dry it out. He shook his head and closed the door. Whatever was munching on people and had taken a bite out of Rufus, he hoped they'd have better luck.

Dean woke in the morning to the sound of a foghorn. He pushed up on his elbows and groaned realizing it wasn't a foghorn; it was his brother blowing his nose. "You blow any harder the windows are gonna break."

"Ith not funny." Sam said with a wad of Kleenex over his nose and came out of the bathroom. He sniffed hard and blew his nose again. "This sucks."

Dean smirked and rolled out of bed. "You leave me any hot water?"

Sam smiled and shrugged. "If you're lucky." He chuckled as Dean grumbled into the bathroom and dropped onto the couch with a sigh as the door shut. He'd woken early with a fever and a head so stuffed it felt as though it would explode at any minute. Rather than wallow in his misery, he'd already showered, gone out for cold medicine and coffee and done his best to dry the driver's seat. He was hoping Dean wouldn't notice the sort of 'wet sneaker on linoleum' sound it was making when he sat down. Sam rolled his eyes. "Like I'd be that lucky."

Dean came out of the shower to find a cup of coffee waiting for him, donuts whose warm aroma called sweetly to him and a little brother trying not to look as he miserable as he felt while putting his gun back together now it had dried and been cleaned.

"What part of my baby do I not wanna see?" Dean bit into a flaky donut and eyed Sam who tried an innocent face.

"Don't know what you mean?" Sam shrugged and nudged the tall coffee toward him. "Still hot."

"Uh huh." Dean scowled down at him but took the coffee.

Sam finished putting his gun back together and slid it behind his back. "So we should get up to the old hotel and have a look around." He waved an arm at the windows. "It's still raining."

"Maybe it's a weather demon." Dean shook his head. "That'd be a new one."

"I don't think demons care about the weather." Sam stood and grabbed the box of Kleenex on the table and his coffee. "Come on, before Noah's friggin Ark floats by."

Dean chuckled. He finished off the last of the donut and grabbed his coffee before following Sam outside. They dashed to the car and Dean slid in behind the wheel, pulled the door shut and froze. He shifted in the seat, listening to the irritating squeak; shifted again and then slid his eyes over to Sam who was studiously looking at the map and not at him.

"Sammy?" Dean said softly.

"Not my fault." Sam risked a glance, seeing the glower on Dean's face and smirked. "Weather demon's fault."

Dean growled and started the car. He knew the leather was dry but couldn't help feeling as though his butt was getting wet sitting there. He should have known since Sam had come back half drowned. "You're detailin' the leather later."

Sam snorted a laugh and set the map aside as they drove. The town looked dreary through the rain in daylight, as though all its vibrancy had been washed away in the weeks of constant rainfall. Even the few people out on the streets looked down-trodden under their umbrellas; faces downcast as the wind gusted to blow it in their faces. It took only minutes to cross out of Lyelow and into the forests beyond, heading steadily upward along the road.

"There's the restaurant I was trying to get to last night." Sam pointed to the little diner back among the trees. "Man I went right past it and never even saw it." He shook his head. "Those trees must hide the lights at night."

"That and the rain." Dean watched it pass and saw the line of cars outside. It was the only place they'd seen real signs of life since arriving. "Where'd you go off?"

Sam watched the trees passing and the curve of the road back and forth and frowned. "I'm not really sure. "Somewhere up ahead here." There were no signs of his accident that he could see. The rain had washed them away long before they got there. He pulled the map down to look at it again. "This is one lonely stretch of road. Rufus got lucky the forest ranger found him when he did."

Dean nodded and took a firmer grip on the wheel as the wind gusted, rocking the car lightly. He saw Sam's head come up at the motion and reasoned this must have been how it started last night. He slowed down in response, determined not to end up in the ditch like Sam had no matter what the weather threw at them.

"Watch the road if the rain picks up." Sam warned. "It got so heavy the wind made me hydroplane."

"Got it." Dean rolled his eyes. He knew how to drive his damn car. They drove in silence, wary of the wind and rain as they climbed up the side of the mountain. They caught occasional glimpses down the side of the mountain through breaks in the trees and Dean chuckled each time Sam unconsciously leaned away from the window at the drop. The road became less well tended; the blacktop cracked and crumbled and in some places washed away altogether leaving a stretch of bumpy earth behind. Through it all the rain never stopped. When they finally neared the summit of the mountain and the hotel, the windshield was painted with mud except for where the wipers swung.

"Whoa." Sam leaned forward to get a better look at the hulking building as they broke from the trees. "That…is big." The hotel stretched for what had to be at least two city blocks and six stories up. Most of the windows were gone; taken by the elements over the decades it had been derelict. Ivy climbed over most of it and hid the white stonework, turning the entire building green and brown. It looked alive. The once circular drive was long over grown with grass and shrubs and even a few straggling trees as Dean wove the Impala around them and to the front of the building. There once had been an awning to cover the wide front doors but it had fallen and lay in a heap of rubble and ivy.

Dean parked and climbed out of the car to look up at the building. The empty windows stared back down at him like dark holes surrounded by the ivy. "That is one creepy hotel."

"Holy cow." Sam said, voice awed.

Dean turned and took a moment himself to admire the view. The trees dropped off suddenly and the whole of the valley was laid out below them. A heavy mist covered the floor of the valley between the mountains and made it look more like an ocean of white foam surrounded by green. "That's…that's…wow."

Sam smirked and turned back to him. "Eloquent, Dean."

"Bite me." Dean tore his eyes away from the view and went around to the trunk, wiping rain from his face. "I can see why this place would have drawn people."

"I can't believe someone hasn't snatched it up and tried to re-open it with a view like that." Sam looked back out at the vista again. He smiled at the beauty of it and looked back around at the hotel again. "Uh, Dean?" Sam wiped the rain out of his eyes as it tried to blind him and looked up. A band of low clouds was slowly rolling down the mountain above them toward the hotel. "Visibility's about to turn to shit."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Dean eyed the clouds and flung a finger up at them in temper. "You know, we should have a point where crap keeps going wrong and we just say 'that's it, we're done' and friggin leave it."

Sam chuckled and took the bag Dean handed him and the sawed off shotgun. "Like you'd ever walk away from a job." He waited for Dean to take his own and closed the trunk for him. "Not when people are dying."

"Well, doesn't mean I wish we could." Dean looked back up the mountain. "Sometimes. Come on."

They went to the entrance and climbed carefully over the rubble of the awning. Sam shook the rain from his hair as they stepped into the dim light of the entrance and out of the rain. They both took out their flashlights and turned them on. The ivy had made it inside the building and climbed the walls and crept across the floor toward the stairs on either side of the entrance hall. One set of stairs was partially collapsed, only the rail still remained and led up to a small balcony and then onto the second floor. Between the two stair cases an elevator door stood open on an empty shaft. They both jumped as several birds, startled by their presence, erupted from the open elevator door and flew past them in a cloud of wings and raucous calls.

"Well shit!" Dean ducked as the birds went past and outside.

Sam laughed and then sneezed. "Place definitely has atmosphere." He dug a wad of Kleenex from his pocket and blew his nose.

"Dude. Keep the plague over there." Dean smirked as Sam sneezed again.

"Doing my best." Sam blew his nose and rubbed a hand over his eyes that felt like they were burning. "Where you wanna start?"

"Oh let's go with the obvious and try the basement first." Dean smiled.

Sam tucked his gun under his arm and pulled the hotel's blueprints out of his pocket. He went over to the ruin of the front desk and spread them out, shining his light on them. "Basement entrance should be…back there." He pointed to a hall behind the desk. "Nearest entry anyway. There's a few more on this floor." He left the map there, having committed most of it to memory. "We split up we can cover more of this place."

Dean nodded. "I'll go low, you go high." He pointed up. "You find anything you call me."

"Sam goes." Sam nodded. He clanged the barrel of his rifle to Dean's and went for the intact stairway while Dean climbed over the desk to the hall.

"This is a bad idea." Dean muttered and turned to watch Sam vanish up the stairs. He shook his head and played his light along the hall. Most of the doors were open and hanging off the hinges. They looked like they had once been offices with desks and filing cabinets. One of the larger rooms had several housekeeping carts covered in vines from the empty window and the smell of mildew was powerful as he passed. At the end of the hall he found the door to the basement. Dean pulled it open and went slowly down the stairs. Like everything else, vines covered them and tugged at his legs as he went. They caught his foot twice, almost sending him sprawling to the bottom.

"I really hope we get to torch this place before we leave." Dean glared up the stairs at the greenery once he reached the bottom. The basement was silent except for his footsteps as he strode slowly out into a wide open space. There were several halls leading off the far wall. He played the light along the floor and narrowed his eyes, kneeling to get a closer look. The layer of dust on the floor had been disturbed before he'd arrived. He couldn't tell if they were footprints or something else but it meant there was something other than a ghost operating in the hotel. "Crap." He pulled out his cell and dialed Sam to warn him as he followed the prints further in; hoping to find some sign of what they were hunting.

The phone rang and rang. With each ring, warning bells sounded in his head. Sam's voicemail picked up and Dean stuffed his phone in his pocket with a curse. "You better have forgot to turn the damn ringer on, Sammy." Dean grumbled and retraced his steps at a run. He had a bad feeling and couldn't shake it as he ran up the stairs, skipping a step at a time in search of his brother. "Sam!"

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To Be Continued…