The motel room was the usual cheap, slightly sticky deal that they had come to know as home these days. Sam wrapped one towel around him as he stepped out of the shower and used a smaller hand towel to rub his hair dry. His damp hair tousled across his forehead as he pulled the towel away and tossed it into the shower basin. He carefully unwrapped the towel from around his waist and studied his torso in the mirror. He looked closely at where he had been stabbed earlier that day; there was the faintest of marks, like an old and very faded scar. He brushed his fingertips lightly across it feeling its bumps and dips, finding some consolation in the feel of the damaged tissue as it confirmed that he had been attacked and hadn't just imagined it. Confused and a little worried he crossed the threshold of the bathroom into the main room where Dean was busy banging the remote control for the TV on the edge of the bedside cabinet.
"A new sort of therapy?" Sam asked wryly.
"Huh! Damn thing won't let me turn to any channel other than the weather channel." He banged it again a couple of times just to show it who was boss and then threw it onto Sam's bed. He turned to his brother,
"So, no TV means no porn so I vote we head on out to a bar, down some beers and see where the night takes us." He paused for a moment and looked at Sam's stomach. "How ya feeling there?"
"Fine, I mean really fine, which is the weird thing because I could have sworn that the damage was worse that it is now."
"Well, you know what it's like to be stabbed so I'm willing to go on a little faith here. What happened exactly?" Sam told the story, what he could recall of it, to his brother, who on the whole took it rather well.
"OK, so you were stabbed and then healed superfast. Maybe you have developed superpowers" He raised his eyebrows in jest for a moment and then his face took on a more serious expression. "Sam have you thought that this is maybe some fall out from all that demon blood you been drinking? It's potent stuff, there's gotta be some side effects somewhere along the line."
"Ok, fine, but how is this a side effect? If it means that I can now heal faster?"
"Yeah, because that is completely normal. I mean people were meant to get stabbed and then be up and running around straight after."
"People weren't meant to do a lot of things, get possessed, have powers, be rescued from hell…" he trailed off.
"Well they sure as hell weren't meant to drink demon blood. I'm just saying, we need to consider that this may not be all our Christmases coming at once."
Sam opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a knock on the door.
"That'll be Bobby. He said he was gonna get some food." Sam closed his mouth and as Dean went to answer the door, he traipsed back into the bathroom to get dressed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite Dean's best efforts, the boys had failed to get as loaded as they had hoped and as a consequence were on the road again by 9 the next morning.
"Where to?" Sam asked stretching his legs out.
"Bobby said there has been some trouble north of here. I said we would meet him there this afternoon. Check it out and see if it is something that needs our attention". Sam nodded and turned to look out the window as the Impala chewed up the miles.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The town Bobby had arranged to meet them in proudly announced on the billboard on the outskirts of town that it had a population of 5000. Some wise ass had written underneath the population figure "and rising thanks to Kennedy Wilson!"
"Remind me to look up Miss Wilson if we have time" Dean joked as he turned to Sam.
"I think she has a full diary already" Sam quipped back grinning cheekily.
As the car reached the centre of town the town hall clock struck two. Sitting in a diner window not far from where they parked they could see the familiar outline of Bobby.
"Aww look, he is in soft focus with all the steam on the window" Dean laughed as he stepped out of the car, but despite his joking he was feeling uneasy; his spidey sense was tingling. Bobby saw the boys and waved a sandwich at them as they made their way across the street. They had just reached the other side when Sam let out an anguished cry and stumbled into the diner wall. He rolled so that his back was to the wall and slid down until he was crumpled on the floor.
"Sam!" Dean yelled out in alarm. He squatted down and pulled at his brother. He reached inside the ball that Sam had curled into to grab his arm, pull him straight so that he could assess the problem but Sam was rigid. Dean pulled his hand back and was horrified to see that it was covered with blood. Suddenly Sam sat up, his face a mask of agony. He grabbed Dean by the arm.
"What's happening to me?" he hissed. Dean didn't answer, instead he pulled open Sam's denim jacket and saw his shirt was soaked in blood, right where he had been stabbed yesterday.
"Oh God, Sammy. Not good." Dean was dimly aware of Bobby speaking to someone, something about paramedics and an emergency. He pushed his hand hard against the spreading bloodstain in a futile attempt to stem the flow.
"Burning, I feel like I'm burning" Sam's breaths were short and sharp, rasping in his throat as he fought to keep the pain and panic under control. In his own mind Dean was also panicking. He couldn't be here again, no, no, no, no. The last time Sammy had been stabbed he had died, Dean had had to make a deal that had cost him his soul to get his little brother back. This couldn't be happening again. It couldn't.
Firm but gentle hands tried to push him aside as the paramedics attempted to gain access to Sam. Dean threw the hands off with a violent shrug of his shoulders and searched his brother's face for some sort of sign that this was going to be alright. Bobby leaned down and spoke in the same calm tones that his Dad had always spoken to him in when he was angry or upset. The soft rise and fall of his voice brought Dean to his senses and he stepped away from Sam, letting the paramedics get to him. For what seemed like a lifetime, the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own breath. He watched as Sam was loaded into the back of the rig, still writhing in agony, blood dripping from the gurney onto the sidewalk. Too much blood, a voice in his head noted calmly. He's going to die from losing too much blood. One of the paramedics was talking on the radio as the other worked to stabilise Sam. Dean couldn't hear everything he said but he caught one short phrase, "single stab wound to the abdomen". He turned to Bobby.
"Summon Ruby. We need her here now" and he climbed into the ambulance.
