HI
Well a little more pain for Dean and then John and Sam will have to get on with figuring out what the heck they do to fix this.
Thanks for the reviews folks! Mary xx
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Hello Pain My Old Friend
They had gone back to the motel and Dean had taken the Impala to an empty lot round the back of where they were staying not really wanting to unload the assortment of weapons that they had in the trunk in full view of the motel rooms.
Sam sighed as he stood in the middle of the room trying to decide where to start. Finally, he walked into the small kitchenette and opened the cupboard doors.
---
Dean still wasn't feeling 100% no matter the face that he had put on for his brother. He pulled a bottle of water from the floor of the car and took a mouthful, grimacing as the water that sluiced down his throat was warm from having sat in the car.
"Well baby, let's get this done. If she's messed with my car she'll be glad that she's dead already." He patted the roof and then popped the hood. "Let's do the easy part first." He set about examining the car's guts.
Less than an hour later and with no real sign that anything had been tampered with on her, he dropped the hood and then dropped himself in the driver's seat, gently resting his head on the wheel. Leaving the door out to let the hot air escape he closed his eyes; it was too warm in the car and the heat made him feel dizzy but he couldn't move at the moment. His head was starting to hurt again and he briefly hoped that its was just thirst and the dryness in the air, but he knew that his luck generally wasn't that good.
Fumbling in his pocket, he took out the bottle of Tylenol that he had taken with him to the diner just in case, cursing as he struggled to get his fingers to work the simple task of getting the lid off. He finally managed it after several attempts and various curses but the contents spilt into his lap and then onto the floor as the shakes took hold.
"Jesus, please not again." He reached gingerly down and plucked two tablets from the floor then threw his head and himself back against the seat, lifting his hand and dropping the tablets into his mouth as he did. Not able to reach the water bottle from were he was and not really willing to move his head again, he dry swallowed them, choking for a minute until they finally slid over his throat. The headache was building and Dean knew what was coming. He was on the tracks and there was a train headed his way. He pulled out his phone.
"Looks like the room is a bust so far. What about on your end?" His brother's voice filled his head and made him groan in pain.
"Sammy." He drew in a long pain filled gasp of air.
"Dean? Dean are you ok?"
He couldn't answer, it felt like his head had burst as a lance of pain shot through it causing his vision to white out completely. Bringing his hands to his head, he dropped the phone and resisted the urge to scream as what felt like icy fingers dug into his brain, trying to squeeze what little conscious thought he had left from it. He dropped his arms back to his sides, no longer able to keep them up and let his hands rest on his thighs, digging his nails into the flesh in a vain hope of diverting some of the pain away from his head. Nausea began to rise in him and he reached for the open door, willing his hand and arm to comply with his need to grip the handle. Neither did and missing the door completely he fell out of the car, his shoulder impacting with the gravel mere seconds before his head connected with it.
This time he did scream.
And then he passed out.
---
Sam had ripped apart the kitchenette, even going as far as unfastening the waste trap on the sink to ensure that there wasn't a hex bag in the pipe, knowing that it was unlikely but unable to stop himself from checking anyway. His phone rang as he was halfway through checking the main room.
"Sam, you boys finished looking over the room and the car yet?" His Dad's gruff tone hinted that all had not gone well at his end.
"No sir, not yet."
John had got nowhere with his investigation, he'd had to wait until the victim's houses were empty, then he hadn't found hex bags at all the houses, so either she'd hidden them really well or they weren't there in the first place. John knew that that of course then meant that she had may have found another way to jinks those people, which would need more research. His talk with the families, listening to them describing the events leading up to their loved ones death hadn't exactly lightened his mood either. He took his frustration out on his younger son. "What the hell is the delay? This is important Sam."
"It's only been slightly less than an hour John…." Sam used his father's name to annoy him. "…it's a big room and I'm on my own. Do you want me to do a good job or not?"
"Where's Dean? Isn't he helping? Is he sick again? Why didn't you call me if he's sick again?" John fired questions at him.
Sam rolled his eyes. "He isn't sick again Dad, he's checking the car out."
"Is he ok?"
"Was last time I looked."
"When was that?"
Sam suddenly realised that Dean hadn't check with in him to see if he had found anything, and a little niggle of worry crept in. "When we got here, I was just going to call him when you called."
"I bet you were." John's annoyance breathed down the phone at him. His Dad paused and then he was on his case again. "Wait you mean you can't see him? Some witch puts a hex on your brother that makes him collapse and you've let him out of your sight? What's wrong with you these days Sam?"
Sam huffed loudly, his anger evident in his voice. "Dean is a big boy Dad and he's only out in the empty lot at the back of the motel, he didn't want to empty the car in view of anyone that walked by."
"I'd better call him then, one of us at least should keep an eye on him, don't you think!"
Sam bristled at his father's implication. "I am."
"Sounds like it. He was right in front of you the last time and you couldn't stop her getting to him." The call dropped as John cut the connection.
Sam had several choice words running through his head but he chose not to give vent to any of them. He was furious, his Dad left them for days at a time and didn't bother to even pick up if one of them called to say the other was hurt, but now he was acting like Sam was an idiot who didn't know how to look after his brother.
He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge with his Dad's words now eating at him. Sam headed for the door to check on Dean knowing that he would need an excuse or his brother would be as annoyed at being checked on as his father had been because he hadn't. It was warm outside anyway, Dean could probably do with a drink by now.
Sam's phone rang as he stepped out of the front door, he smiled as his brother's name flashed on the caller ID.
---
John cursed as Dean's phone went straight to voice mail; either it was off, which was unlikely, or Dean was talking to someone; probably Sam had called him just to stop John getting through. He was standing outside the last house that he was going to search today, having already had to wait two hours for the family to leave, but now he was undecided whether to go and do it or go back and check on the boys.
He'd searched seven houses and had four bags making seven out of a possible thirteen with two houses left to check. Looking at the house again he was filled with a sudden urge to get back that he couldn't explain, Dean would had said that his spider sense was tingling. Sighing he wrote the day off as a bust and stomped back to his truck. He'd get Sam to go over the bags with him and then they would decide their next step from there.
He tried Sam's phone; it switched to answer phone and he relaxed a little, if the boys were talking on their phones maybe he was just a little wrought at not finding anything useful. He looked across at the house again as Sam's message finished. "Hey, it's me…I'm heading back, maybe give you a hand to finish the room off. I was going to fetch some food back with me, call me back and let me know what you and your brother want. Bye."
Shutting the phone he climbed into the truck and headed back.
---
Sam rounded the corner onto the gravel lot. The Impala was sitting less than 100 yards from him but he couldn't see his brother. He headed for her, calling Dean's name as he approached. There was no reply.
As he got to the passenger side he saw that the driver's door was wide and his brother was lying in the dirt beneath it, half in, half out the car.
"Dean!" Sam circled the car quickly, threw the bottles that he was still carrying over onto the backseat together with his phone and then dropped to his knees, lifting his stricken brother's head onto his lap. "Dean?" There was a little cut on the side of Dean's head, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he wiped at it with his shirt and found that it wasn't anything major. Dean had probably hurt it he figured falling out the car. He touched his hand to Dean's forehead and frowned. His brother was running hot and Sam didn't think that it was all down to the heat of the day and the car.
Instead of pulling his brother free Sam lifted him and slid him back into the car and over to the passenger seat, lifting him up to get him in and then dropping Dean's head back onto his lap, noting the tablets spilled over the floor as he did. "Don't tell me Dean, taking the tablets with you was a precaution…why couldn't you say if you still weren't feeling ok?" He shook his head and, reaching over, slammed the driver's door then quickly pulled the car round to the front of the room.
Half carrying, half dragging his brother he managed to get him inside and onto the bed.
Sam quickly fetched the first aid kit, a wet cloth and a towel then put the thermometer from the kit into his brother's mouth. He checked Dean's breathing and pulse frowning at the latter and then touched the cloth to the cut on his brother's forehead, cleaning away the little bit of blood and dirt that still clung there while he waited on the temperature to read. He frowned at the beep. Leaving the cloth on his brother's forehead he looked at the readout – 101 – the figures flashed in front of him. Damn, too high, he thought even as he moved to strip his brother down.
"Dean? Can you hear me? I need to know if you can hear me. You're running a little hot there big brother, I got your jeans off but I need you to help me with the t-shirt ok?" He lifted Dean against him and could have cried as he felt his brother start to respond to his voice, felt him carry a little bit of his own weight as Sam struggled to get the shirt up one arm and the over his brother's head and down the other. Dean shivered against him and moaned quietly. Sam carefully eased him back down onto the bed and smiled at him as he opened his eyes. "Hey, you gotta stop scaring me like that…almost gave me a heart attack man with that phone call and then finding you at the car."
"Sorry." Dean forced the word out and Sam could hear the dryness in his brother's voice.
"S'ok. Think you could drink something for me?"
"Yeah." Dean closed his eyes again but Sam nudged him until he opened them again.
"You stay with me. No sleeping until I get some fluid in you." He fetched a bottle of water and then slipped an arm round the back of his brother's shoulders, lifting him up to let him drink. Dean tried to lift his arm to hold the bottle and Sam frowned again as he couldn't managed it. "I got it Dean, just drink." He forced almost the whole bottle down his brother's throat, stopping every now and again to let him rest, until Dean finally protested.
"Enough." Dean turned his head and let it rest against Sam and they sat like that for a little while until Sam realised that Dean was drifting again. He reached for the thermometer and shook Dean.
"Hey, let's get another reading." He put the thermometer back in Dean's mouth and waited. He knew that he shouldn't be holding onto Dean if his temperature was high but he couldn't help himself, seeing Dean like this scared him more than he was prepared to admit, and the fact that Dean was allowing him to scared him even more. The beep roused him from his thoughts.
"Shit." The number 102 blink at him. He place Dean down gently on the bed and went to fetch another towel and the ice packs from the fridge wondering briefly as he did what it must be like to live in a family where ice packs weren't used routinely to bring down temperatures caused by supernatural forces or infected wounds.
He was just placing them next to Dean when John arrived in.
"What happened?" John put the files and the hex bags down on the table and turned to Sam, keeping his anger in check for the moment as Sam's face was whiter than Dean's was.
"You were right. He called me and by the time I got to the car he'd collapsed again. I brought him round here, got him settled but his temperature's too high, I was just trying to bring it down."
John shrugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. "How high?"
"102 but it was 101 less than an hour ago and that was before I stripped him and made him drink something."
John touched Dean's forehead and watched as his son opened his eyes. "Dad?"
"Yeah, I'm here…so's Sammy. He tells me you took a bad turn. Up to telling me what happened?"
"Head….pain." Dean groaned as the first wave of nausea hit, not sure if he was answering the question or telling his dad how he felt.
Sam's face hovered into view. "You gonna be sick?"
"Not…sure." Dean closed his eyes and willed away the feeling in his stomach. He could feel the chill from the ice packs invading him and he knew it was too much. "Too…cold." He tried to push them away but John stilled his hand.
" Just let them lie there Dean, just for a little while ok?" John turned to Sam. "Run a bath will you, tepid…not cold. We'll try to bring his temperature down gradually." Sam went off and John leaned closer, examining his elder son's face. "It's gonna be alright, I'm going to fix it, you just need to ride it out for a little while."
"Sick." One word but John had turned him on his side almost before he finished saying it. Sam materialised from nowhere and this time John held him as Sam made sure the bucket was in the right place.
Dean felt as if his insides were getting ripped from him, his retching so violent this time that John was having a hard time holding onto him. He felt one final, gut wrenching wave hit him and then he was struggling to breath, blood filling his mouth and his nose, choking him.
"Dean!" His dad's concerned tones reached him just as whatever was stopping his breathing cleared and he gasped in a long pain filled suck of air. He felt his dad raise his head up with his hands and brush his hair back from his face and then there was nothing but pain and he passed out.
"GET THE CAR OPENED!" John screamed at Sam even as he lifted Dean up into his arms, his worry at the blood and the fact that Dean has past out filling him with a strength he didn't know he had.
Sam had the car ready as his dad stepped through the door and helped him get Dean in and settled and then he started the engine and pulled out of the carpark not having to ask where they were going.
