Chapter 3
The night was young but it was busy as the pair of hunters went about the business of a salt and burn. Sam was thrusting the shovel into the ground while Dean stood up top watching his back just in case the spirit showed up. It was his punishment for pulling one on Dean but it was worth it. He shoveled up the dirt with a steady tempo and he couldn't help but think about the salt and burn at the Point and she was digging like someone possessed. Shoveling up the clump in his shovel, he paused to look around.
"Come on Sammy. Put your back into it."
"Bite me."
"Man up Samantha. It's just one little grave."
Sam tossed up the shovel so that Dean could catch it. He stood in the grave and looked up and said, "Well if it's one little grave why don't you finish it?"
Dean tossed the shovel back at his brother, "Big brother. I win."
Sam threw Dean his best bitch face and continued to dig the grave. He wasn't really that upset and probably by Dean's last count it was his turn to dig though it never mattered. He finally hit the coffin and said, "Yahtzee." He used the shovel to pry the coffin open. As soon as the lid was pried open the wind picked up.
A light rain had started to fall while he had been digging and it seemed to pick up at the same time the wind did. Dean felt that familiar prickle he got when something supernatural was coming along. A glance at Sam told him his brother had sensed it too and Sam hurried to get the lid all the way open. Dean scanned the area while Sam jumped out of the grave to grab the salt and lighter fluid. Suddenly the spirit appeared and Dean repressed a shudder.
The guy certainly died a horrible death. Dean could see the depression in the guys head and the blood stood out like those girly gift cards that were black and white but the flower was the only thing with color. Dean held his shotgun ready just in case the spirit was going to try something. It was unnerving to have a staring contest with a spirit but for Dean there was little to no choice since he was covering Sam's back. He looked at the ghost and finally asked, "What are you waiting for?"
The ghost just looked at him with a haunted look. He then said, "Not safe."
Dean brought up his shotgun since that usually signaled that the ghost was going to attack. The ghost responded by disappearing putting Dean on alert. He hated it when they did that because you couldn't see what direction they came from. "Sam?"
Sam was spraying the last of the fluid and was about to light the match when something yanked him off his feet and sent him flying. His back hit a tree that happened to be planted for aesthetic purposes and he hit the dirt. It didn't knock him out but it was enough to make it feel like he had been winded.
Dean had turned in time to see his brother get shoved into a tree and he called out his brother's name. Something then caught in his line of vision and was quickly gone but he reaped the rewards by being tackled by it. He wasn't caught off guard however and retaliated by grabbing on and then giving a good swing.
It must have made contact for the douche let out a grunt and that gave Dean the confidence he needed to knock the guy's block off and fling him aside. He was up quick but ended up tripping on another douche's leg. Trying to catch a glimpse of his attacker, Dean saw the ghost appear again saying, "Not safe."
"No shit," Dean muttered as he pushed himself to his feet. The douche that tripped him got a fist in the mouth and he turned to see a third standing over his brother pointing something at him. It looked suspiciously like a gun and Dean's big brother instincts went into protective mode. He charged and shouted at the douche and tackled him.
It was a stupid thing to do since the gun could have gone off and shot him but that didn't matter to Dean. He had one job and that stood above all else and that was to watch out for Sam. The rain was pouring down in torrents now and Dean was getting soaked to the bone but he didn't care. He was swinging wildly at the douche and the guy took it like it was nothing. At one point he was laughing at Dean's attempts to take him out and he said, "You know how to fight but in this case you are very sloppy."
While the douche was saying that, one of the others had gotten up and was holding a tree branch and he was getting ready to swing it at the back of Dean's head. He would have succeeded if Sam hadn't gotten back up and grabbed his dropped shotgun. Swinging it like a club, Sam made contact with the guy's head and he fell over just as Dean turned to watch.
The distraction was all Dean's opponent needed and he gave a nice shove that sent Dean careening into Sam and both stumbled back. Unfortunately they were near the edge of the grave and with the rain pouring down, the soft dirt gave way and both fell in with Dean landing on top of Sam. Dean took the brunt of what he was sure was Sam's elbow in his back and grunted as he rolled off his brother who was effectively winded. When Dean rolled over, he saw the guy who shoved then kneeling over the edge grinning down at them. With a swift motion, he reached in and grabbed Sam by the front of his hoodie and yanked him out and flung him out of Dean's line of vision. The douche gave one last grin and turned to leave in the direction he had thrown Sam.
Dean struggled to get upright and slipped to land alongside the dead guy's corpse. He glared at the face he nearly kissed and got up. The ghost appeared again in the grave. Dean wasn't in the mood for this and said, "Look I get it. You died because some douche cut corners and made it unsafe at the worksite."
"They are safe," the ghost replied.
"Then why are you still around? Shouldn't you be at rest or something?"
The ghost pointed in the direction that Sam had been flung and then at Dean. He repeated, "Not safe. Make safe." The ghost then disappeared leaving Dean with a 'duh' moment as he tried to scramble out of the hole.
It was hard going since the ground was wet and soft and he was sure that his jacket was worse but nothing mattered except Sam. He finally got out of the hole and looked around in the general direction where his brother might be. He couldn't see anything and took off in the general direction searching and promising that if his brother was hurt, then somebody was so dead. As he ran on the slippery grass with near zero visibility from the pouring rain when his ears caught the sound of roaring and he realized that they were near a damn river. What idiot plants a cemetery near a river?
It was rhetorical but it made Dean feel better about ganking the douche when he caught up with them. It surprised Dean that they had gone so far in a short amount of time and it led Dean to believe that it was something supernatural… possibly demons and that sent the spike of fear. The fear was reduced when Dean spotted the douche and he was holding Sam in a chokehold against a tree. Dean could barely make out the face Sam was making as he was gasping for air and he didn't have much time left and it wasn't helped by the fact that the douche held out a knife and was inching it towards Sam's neck.
It was a no brainer for Dean what was going on. He just heard the douche say, "This is a mercy… a kindness," and saw the knife draw closer to Sam's neck when his rational brain shut down and the impulsive one took over. He charged the guy and grabbed the offending hand with the knife and looked the douche in the eye. The only words that came out of his mouth were, "You don't touch my brother."
After that, Dean wasn't sure what happened. Everything seemed to be in slow motion… almost like when he had been under that demon's control. The anger was cold and calculating as he wrestled with the guy. Somehow he managed to get him to loosen his hold on Sam's neck and his brother sagged to catch his breath. They wrestled around in an upright position with Dean trying to wrench the knife away since the longer the douche held it, the more chances there were for Dean to get nicked, slashed or stabbed.
At one point the douche held Dean in a firm grip and locked his eyes onto his. Dean felt like the guy was looking into his soul and kept the contact but narrowed his hazel greens into an icy glare. The douche then said, "It is a kindness. The abomination is nothing but a taint and now you are tainted by loyalty. A pity."
Dean didn't understand what the guy was referring to. It was true that Sam was involved with Yellow Eyes and the fact that Dad told him that he might have to kill Sam to save him… no. That was not the way. He made a promise and even the blood bitch understood that. He replied, "You don't touch my brother… douchebag."
The guy just grinned and moved around to apply pressure to one of Dean's joints. It would have work had he did something like dislocate it. All it did was make Dean's resolve harder and they continued to wrestle with the knife. Dean finally got the chance when they collided with a tree that was precariously close to the edge of a short cliff overlooking the river. He grabbed the offending wrist of the guy and slammed it as hard as he could into the tree several times and the finally the knife dropped. Unfortunately that freed the hand to deliver a hard punch to Dean's face and he stumbled backwards. His heel touched the edge and he tottered trying to regain his balance.
The guy was looking at him smugly as he watched him teeter back and forth. Dean glanced back for a split second at the raging river. He had a chance and it probably was a stupid plan but what the hell? He made a decision. He grabbed the guy as he started to fall back and they both went over the edge of the cliff.
Meanwhile Sam coughed trying to catch his breath. The guy had squeezed his throat pretty hard and he was surprised that his windpipe hadn't been crushed. He looked around for signs of the other douches and didn't see anyone. He did turn around though just in time to see his brother yank his attacker and they both went over the edge. "Dean!"
Sam scrambled over tripping once over the muddy soft ground and peered over the edge. There holding onto a piece of tree root was Dean. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Stupid jerk."
"Drama bitch," Dean replied with a grin as he held on. It had been a gamble since he couldn't tell how strong the root was but he took it. He had to give a good hard yank so the guy wouldn't try to hang on to him. It worked and now he was dangling like a fish. "Come on give me a hand up." He reached out.
Sam reached out with his own arm. Even lying flat on his stomach, his hand missed Dean's by a couple of inches. Still he stretched, "Dean you're gonna have to pull yourself up."
"I'm trying… believe me, I know." Dean looked at the craggy wall. With the rain pouring down, there was a chance that if he put his weight on it, it could crumble. Well he was gambling with the Winchester luck… if that was anything to put faith in. He placed his feet on the wall and pushed with his legs so that he was hanging on with his underarms. He reached up again when something cracked. Oh crap.
Sam groped for the extended hand but missed as the root cracked under Dean's weight and his brother fell into the icy cold river. "Dean!"
Dean thought he had been locked in a subzero walk in freezer when he hit the water. It was a wonder that he didn't hit any of the rocks that must be hiding under the current. The Winchester luck was good for something. Maybe he could get it to work again and he pumped his arms and legs to break the surface and gasp for air. He looked around wildly and thought that he could make out Sam running along the edge. He had to get to the edge or he would drown.
In the recesses of his mind Dean remembered something from school a long time ago about rip tides or rip currents. In the movies they are portrayed as pulling swimmers under water and drowning them. At the moment though that didn't serve a purpose but the ways to get out of one did. Dean knew he couldn't fight against the current. That would just make him exhausted and he would drown. Instead he let the current carry him downstream and he scuttled sideways aiming towards the shore.
He finally managed to get to the sore and grab onto a branch and pull himself out. His body felt heavy as he was now thoroughly soaked and it was still raining. He was also chilled to the bone from his ice bath but he could relax a little as he took in nice deep breaths of air sprawled on the shore. He gave a short laugh when he heard Sam a few minutes later. The bitch princess was back.
"Sam, leave me alone. I just want to get some sleep." Dean batted away Sam's hands as he shivered in the mound of blankets his bed came with in the crappy motel.
He was still cold even though the room was warm according to Sam and after taking a probably near scalding hot shower. The rain and his dunking in icy cold water had sent the chill straight down into his bones. He just couldn't seem to get warm now and plus his leg was bothering him but he wasn't going to let Samantha know about that. He was Dean Winchester and he could handle well just about anything.
After taking a breather, Dean insisted that they finish the job even though it was pouring rain. He even offered to fill the hole after they burned the remains of the guy. The ghost appeared while they were finishing and he smiled at them thanking them for making the worksite safe. To Dean the ghost pointed once again at Sam and then at him and then disappeared.
Dean knew what that meant. Obviously the ghost thought that they were in some kind of danger. Since when he and Sam weren't? This kind of job was what you would call a high risk job since the chance of hospitalization, maiming and probably certain death was pretty high. So the ghost's warning seemed pretty out of place unless it had something to do with those douches that attacked them at the cemetery.
That left Sam with a rather nasty bruise forming on his neck and Dean grinned as his brother tried to hide it with a hoodie. They both had numerous scrapes, cuts and bruises; nothing that wouldn't heal on its own though Dean was sure that the bruise Sam's elbow had given him would be there for quite a while. It was pretty tender and Dean was sure Sam was feeling the same from the tree trunk.
"Dean, you said your leg was bothering you earlier," Sam replied. He didn't attempt to pull the blanket away though the thought about what she would have done stole into his mind. At that moment he wished she was there to actually see what she would do if only to get a few laughs and a cooperative Dean.
Dean returned the inquiry with a glare and replied, "Nothing Sam. It's just sore. It might have hit something in the river. Now can you stop mother henning me and let me go to sleep?" Dean made a show of meaning what he said by plumping up his pillows. "It's been a long night and its still pouring."
That was not lost on Sam as he could still hear the rain pouring down in a torrent. He and Dean both arrived at their room soaked though Dean was decidedly worse after his dunking in the river and Sam wasn't fooled that Dean was fine about his leg. It was completely lost on him that he was the same way about injuries. Still he respected his brother's privacy enough to know that when Dean said he was fine it meant 'leave me alone and I'll take care of it.' Without saying another word, Sam got into bed after rubbing the sore spot on his neck and hoped that Dean would let him take a look in the morning.
Dean for his part waited until his brother was fast asleep before flinging aside the covers to look at his leg. When he showered, he inspected his leg and noticed a nasty gash. It was deep but not too deep to require stitches. He wouldn't have stood the fact that Samantha would have had to stitch him up and they were both all thumbs with the needle except for her. Inspecting the injury had Dean thinking about what she would do if she was around and he found himself half wishing she was there with her no nonsense attitude.
Three months and Dean found it to be worse than torture but how could he bring himself to even discussing the possibility of her coming back? He had long worked out the truth between the lies and the manipulations. The silent drives when Sam was snoozing provided the opportunity but there were sticking points about those truths that were hard to see past and not to mention the guilt; his dirty little secret that he could say. Sighing he examined the cut. It was red and tender but he had cleaned it well. He wrapped the bandage back on, making sure that it was secure before going back to bed. Tomorrow they would head out. Maybe he would let Sam drive since he was still feeling cold. Maybe he would consider Sam's request when he pestered him in the morning.
The next morning had Sam up early as usual even with a sore throat. He peered at the bruising that was already turning a fine shade of purple and a few other colors. He could make the handprint and some small cuts from fingernails and made a slight face. He gave a slight sniff and went about the business of getting dressed for the morning. It was highly unusual to find that Dean was still asleep though Sam was sure that he made enough noise to wake the dead. He prodded his brother's shoulder, "Dean?"
Dean had been in the middle of a dream of sorts. He was dreaming all three of them were riding down the highway. He turned to glance at his brother but instead found a brown rabbit wearing what suspiciously looked like Sam's jacket and jeans. It was bent over a laptop typing something until it looked at him and asked, "You okay Dean?"
Dean felt his mouth open and close but no sound came out. Finally he managed to make a stuttering sound. "Uh…"
"Dude, relax. It's a simple salt and burn."
"Uh… Sam?"
"Yeah who else would it be? Come on we gotta go down the rabbit hole."
Dean was thoroughly confused by the whole thing. When he looked forward he drove into a dark hole. He started seeing things like a smoking caterpillar that said he had a job to do. Gordon was the Mad Hatter telling him that Sammy was dangerous while drinking tea. Round the images went and Dean thought that it was his worst nightmare. He ran left and right as if through a maze with white roses being painted with red.
Dean?
Dean heard Sam's voice but it was somewhere else. He heard his brother call his name again and like someone was poking him. Oh Sam was so getting it for messing with him. Dean opened his eyes to find that he was in bed and Sam was shaking his shoulder. He finally said, "Mm… what Sam?"
Sam backed away when Dean swiped at him. Dean loved his sleep and made the most of it when he could catch a good night's rest. Yet when he touched his brother, he brushed against his cheek and it felt very warm. Sam's first thought was that Dean was getting sick but the way that he swiped at him made him think otherwise. He replied, "Just trying to get you up. You were the one that wanted to get an early start."
Dean groaned at the reminder. He did mention that and sat up and rubbed his face. He still felt frigging cold and he felt his nose starting to run. His leg still ached too. It wasn't going to be a good day at all. He looked at his brother fully dressed and said, "Well what are ya doing standing around for? Get packing or get coffee. Take your pick." He got up and went to the bathroom to do his morning routine leaving his brother frowning at him.
The rain beat an incessant tattoo on the car as it sped through the highway. It had started up again once they were on the road and it was too late to stop now. Sam wondered if the elements were just deliberately messing with them as he peered through the windshield. Even though it was day, the grey skies made it seem darker. The next town that came up, they were stopping no matter how early in the day it was.
A cough made Sam turn to look. Dean was lounging against the window of the passenger side in an uneasy sleep. He should have been more persistent when Dean handed him the keys to the Impala. Dean barely let him drive the car when the weather was normal and to hand over the keys when it was raining, that was unusual for Dean. Yet being respectful of Dean's mood, he stayed silent and got in the driver's seat and started off down the road.
The coughs and sniffles started five minutes into the drive. Dean insisted that it was nothing and told Sam to find a coffeehouse and get some coffee. The sludge seemed to revive Dean after that and he perked up enough to turn Highway to Hell up to deafening decibels, defying his own rule about choice of music. Sam let it slide though since Dean would argue that it was his car. The coughs and sniffles continued still and Dean started to visibly shake and muttered about the car being too cold.
Sam turned the heater up on request but it worried him that Dean kept insisting that it was too cold as he snuggled under the grey hoodie and the leather jacket. Now that Dean was asleep, Sam was going to take a chance and he reached over and touched his fingers to Dean's forehead. The heat that was radiating off his brother was alarming. To get a fever that bad and that fast… something had to accelerate that or maybe Dean had been harboring it and it just decided to get worse. Either way Sam knew that he had to pull over at the next town and book a room. Anything else would have to wait but he knew that he would need help.
Glancing at Dean Sam had a thought. Even though he could take care of Dean himself, this seemed to be a great opportunity. Also deep down, Sam knew that he needed help. If Dean was getting seriously sick, it was going to be a rocky road and Dean had a tendency to make things difficult when he was sick. Injuries he was more cooperative but illness was another story. As far as Sam knew, there was only one person who could get Dean to do anything in that state.
Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out his cell phone and pushed the button that was the speed dial number for the person he was looking for. He looked over at Dean and paused. When Dean gave a hard cough and pressed his head against the cold glass to try and cool himself down, Sam's mind was made up. He pushed the send to dial the number.
It seemed like an eternity with the phone ringing. Sam thought it was going to go straight to voicemail. Sometimes that happened but he hoped that it was not one of those times. It seemed that the Winchester luck was in his favor because he recognized the click of someone answering and the voice he wanted to hear came loud and clear. He tried not to sound begging as he spoke, "Hey, it's me. I need your help."
A/N: As my nephew would say, "What happened?" Well it seems like that job the boys were on turned into something else. So who is Sam gonna call? Find out who it is next time on Souls Ameliorated...
