Trust Is Everything - Chapter 3
Dean wasn't sure what smelled worse the tea made from yarrow, willow, rosemary, ginseng and echinacea or the smudge bundle containing thyme, sage and Saint John's wort. Whichever one it was it had given him a headache that wouldn't quit. Getting Sam to drink the tea would have been worse if the kid had been more coherent, as it was Sam had vomited only a quarter of it back up. Then he almost forgot to disconnect the smoke detector before lighting the smudge bundle. Explaining away the sigils on the walls, window and doors would've been difficult but doable however, a straightforward answer for what he'd done to the carpet and floor wasn't as easy.
"Looks like Darien Van Pelt's credit is toast," Dean muttered looking around the room. He double-checked his list before lighting the smudge bundle then blowing out the flames. Casting a protective circle, he waved the smoking herbs into the north corner of the room while reciting, "Negatieve energie kan niet blijven, ik vrijgeving en legt zij haar op haar weg. Negatieve energie, ik bannen u, als mijn woord, zodat zij afstand worden."² Then he moved over to the east corner repeated the smudging and reciting until all four corners of the room were blessed and the circle complete. The acrid smoke caught in his throat forcing him to cough as he blessed the four corners of Sam's bed. Being careful not to disturb the circle of agrimony, he lit the candles standing at the five points of the pentagram drawn on the floor beneath the bed.
Looking down at his younger brother's fever flushed face Dean murmured, "show time Sammy." He placed a knotted black cord over Sam's heart before waving the smudge bundle from head to toe, "Het kwaad sturen moet komen te rusten - Weerspiegelen het terug naar wie weet best," from right shoulder to left, "Energie uitgegeven voor het kwaad en Bane, gaan terug nu uit vandaar naar u kwam." Lastly he gently swirled the smoke over Sam's heart, "Ver weg Ik stuur u dit uur - Kunnen alle uw pogingen te schaden dan weer zure."³ He repeated the spell twice then placed the herbs onto a ceramic plate. Picking up the cord, he cut the knot, "zodat zij afstand worden." Dean dropped the pieces of cord onto the herbs, lit a match and dropped it onto the cord. Watching the flames shoot up then die down he could only hope Bobby was right and this spell would free his brother from the spirit's control.
Sighing he sat down on the bed and rubbed his smoke irritated eyes with the palms of his hands. "Don't let those bastards win Sammy." He patted his brother on the thigh and stood up, turning back when he heard a low groan. "Sammy?" Placing a hand on a much cooler forehead he asked, "can you hear me Sammy?" Sam didn't respond. "Open your eyes Sam," he ordered. He stood there for a few more minutes watching his kid brother's face for any signs of his waking up. Muttering something about little brothers who don't listen to their elders, Dean broke the protective circle and blew out the candles.
Dean had just finished sweeping up the scattered agrimony when a loud gasp and a thud drew his attention to the bed. Sam was on the floor, crab crawling backwards as fast as his uncoordinated limbs could move. Breathing hard his back hit the wall and he frantically pushed himself up, almost climbing the wall until he was standing. Sam's eyes rolled around the room wildly until they landed on his older brother. "Dean? Wa..what's going on?" Shivering, he looked down at his damp shirt and boxers, "why are my clothes wet?" he wrapped an arm around his stomach, grimacing slightly, "my stomach hurts."
"Sam…"
His eyes widened under overlong bangs and he started to hyperventilate, "you..you shot me."
"No Sammy I didn't…"
"YOU SHOT ME!" Sam pulled up his shirt, staring at his unblemished skin he slid down the wall while gasping for air.
Snatching a small paper bag from the floor, Dean rolled down the top edge before placing it over the younger man's nose and mouth. "Breathe slow and deep bro," he said holding the bag on Sam's face with one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other, "slow and deep."
"Gi' off me," his voice muffled, Sam tried desperately to get his brother off him, pushing against his arms and chest. The lack of oxygen soon took its toll, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped against the wall.
snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn
'Coffee, I smell coffee and bacon…no…sausage?' his stomach growled, 'Wait, my stomach…wasn't I shot? Dean he..he shot me. No, he tried to suffocate me with…with a paper…bag. Crap my head hurts.' Sam groaned and opened his eyes, blinking rapidly he watched Dean get up from the table and walk over to him.
"Are you going to freak out on me again?" Dean asked while holding out a styrofoam cup and two red pills.
Accepting the pills and cup Sam answered, "uhm, no?" Taking a sip of coffee to wash the down the pain reliever he realized how thirsty he was and gulped down the steaming brew. Dean grabbed the cup out of his brother's hand. "Hey! That's my coffee!"
"You're going to make yourself sick dude." He went over to the table and brought back a wrapped sandwich. Handing Sam the sandwich and the confiscated coffee cup he said, "take it slow Sammy." Sitting down on the opposite bed Dean waited for his kid brother to eat half of his breakfast. "Do you remember what happened back at the hotel?"
Scrunching his forehead in thought, Sam looked at his brother over the top of the cup. He swallowed, lowered the cup and put the sandwich down on the bed. "You shot me with your .45," Sam stared over his brother's shoulder at the window, "then you walked away."
"You weren't shot Sam."
He rubbed his stomach, the pain from the bullet wounds still fresh in his memory. Staring into the cup he said, "it sure felt like I was." Sam took another sip, "we aren't dealing with a death apparition are we?"
"No, no we're not," Dean replied standing up and walking back to the table. He shuffled through his notes, "Sam." His brother started and broke away from his staring contest with the cup.
"Huh?"
"Go take a shower, you're ripe."
"Nice Dean," Sam answered standing up and swaying a bit. Dean hurried over and grabbed onto Sam's arm to steady him. "I'm all right," he said pulling his arm back and shuffling to the bathroom door. "Hey Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you try to suffocate me with a paper bag?"
"Technically," Dean shrugged. "You were hyperventilating."
"Oh," Sam nodded, shutting the bathroom door.
