A/N: Hey folks!!! *hides behind a stone* please, please don't shoot. I know it's been a frigging long time since I posted the last chapter and I'm so unbelievably sorry. (sighs) I still need my 36-hours day.
Well, but I hope it was worth the wait. It's a nice long chapter. ^^ (The longest so far)
A/N: For all who asked or wondered – no, the Lamia has nothing to do with my username here. ^^ just wanted to use something new. '^_^'
A/N: A huge thanks to all of you who still read this, put this on alert or to their favs or leave reviews. And also thanks for putting this story in some C2's.
You guys keep me going!!
And like always, a special thanks to my little beta-girl JeanyAlica (I really don't know what I would do without you (hugs)), Emerald Water (Hey, sweetie, here it is! Hope you like it! x) and to Elke for answering all my annoying questions about medical care and all the other stuff! (hugs) ^^
A/N: Hope you like it! I'm a little unsure about this chapter, so please let me know what you think about it. ^^°
Chapter 4
Comforting darkness surrounded him. Well, maybe not that comforting due to all that frigging coldness and the throbbing pain which ran up and down his left arm.
Dean briefly wondered if he would ever feel warm and comfortable again.
He heard the murmur of a soft voice but couldn't make out the words yet. It was more an unnerving background noise and he tried his best to ignore it.
The darkness disappeared into a pool of colors.
A five year old Sammy appeared in front of him, smiling. But something wasn't quite right. Despite the smile Sammy's eyes looked sad and too aware for an innocent child.
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over Dean and everything started to blur.
When he opened his eyes again he stared right into the bright yellow eyes of his father.
A stabbing pain erupted inside his chest. He felt his shirt dampen with his own blood, tasted the copper on his tongue.
"Dad…" It was more a strangled cry. He hated how helpless and frightened his voice sounded, but right now he would have given nearly anything to make the pain stop.
Without any warning the invisible force that kept him pinned to the wall disappeared and he sagged boneless and panting to the ground.
He heard steps coming nearer. A sudden wave of heat surrounded him, making breathing nearly impossible. The cabin vanished and everything around him was drenched in dark twilight. The next thing he felt was the white-hot pain as chains and hooks drove into his flesh. They held him upright and in place. The pain now almost unbearable. He wanted to scream, but there wasn't enough air left inside his lungs.
"Howdy, Dean." Yellow Eyes stood grinning in front of him. "Welcome to hell – literally. Tell me, Dean, is this worth saving your brother? 'cause, you should keep in mind that he still heads down the road I chose for him so long ago." Yellow Eyes grinned at him, glee written all over his face.
"Better listening to daddy and kill lil' Sammy before it's too late and he can fulfill his destiny."
"No!" Dean screamed and tried to break away from the chains.
No! No, this isn't real. I still have time before the bill comes due!
He couldn't be in hell. And he knew for sure that his brother would never become evil. Hell, he knew that kid, he practically raised him! Sam wasn't evil!
It was a dream, it had to be! But why couldn't he just wake up?
Damn it, wake up – now!!
At some point he must have made some kind of noise or something like that, because all of the sudden he felt something cool through the haze of sleep, fever, and pain. A cool hand squeezed his shoulder lightly. He couldn't make out the words, but they still calmed him, pulled him out of this nightmare and back into the numbing darkness.
Sammy was still with him. He didn't need more reassurance than that right now.
He didn't know how much time passed, but it was her voice that brought him back to awareness this time.
She called him. Over and over. Her voice a sweet soft singsong.
He pushed it back into a far corner of his mind. No way he would be that stupid to follow her words.
Slowly he became more aware of other things.
A damp cloth lay on his forehead and his shirt felt sticky with sweat and clung to him uncomfortably. God, he desperately needed a shower. But just the thought to stand even more than a few minutes made him feel even more exhausted.
What the hell did this bitch do to him? And more interesting – why the heck could he hear her calling him?
If you want me, bring it on, bitch.
The background noise became a little clearer and he could make out Sam's low voice.
"Yeah, Bobby, that's what I said - she's calling him. I think that's how she hunts her prey. But I have to research more to know that for sure."
A pause. So, Sam was talking to Bobby on the phone.
"No, he's still out. But the fever isn't climbing anymore."
Again silence, while Sam was listening to the older hunter.
"My best guess? Find and kill this bitch and see what'll happen."
Dean heard Sam pacing through the room.
"I know it's risky, but… Bobby, he's getting worse, and that damn fast. And I'm so not loosing him to that thing." Sam's voice grew louder, desperation evident in his words.
Dean's stomach clenched painfully. Fuck, he had to do something. Sammy shouldn't sound like that!
Another pause, than: "Yeah, and thanks, Bobby. I'm glad you're coming."
Dean heard Sam sigh heavily, than the clicking of the laptop keys.
Oh hell, this sucks! He hated it to be weak and in the center of all attention, especially when it was his little brother he would worry and scare. Well, okay, attention was great when it was caused by some hot chicks, but apparently this was not the case.
C'mon, suck it up, Winchester! It's not that bad and you had worse!, he tried to convince himself.
A violent shiver ran through his body and sent a new stabbing pain up and down his arm and right into his head.
Oh please, somebody shoot me now. He tried to suppress a groan, but succeeded only partly.
After the fist wave of pain slowly vanished into the dull throbbing, which he got nearly used to, he buried deeper into the covers, though they didn't spend any real warmth.
"Dean?" Sam's voice was close to his left ear.
"Hey, you awake?" The cloth disappeared and was replaced by Sam's cool hand.
Dean turned his head slightly towards Sam, convincing himself that he did not lean into the touch.
To open his eyes was easier said than done. His lids seemed to weight tons, but eventually he saw his brother's blurry face in front of him.
"You look like shit, ya know that, right?" Dean stated groggily and tried to grin lightly.
Sam's hair was unkempt and dark circles lay under his eyes. Concern blossomed inside his chest.
Sam half snorted, half laughed. "Yeah, right back at you. You've looked into a mirror lately?"
"'m still the better looking one of us. An' chicks dig at this whole 'taking-care-of-some-hot-lookin'-an'-wounded-guy'-thing."
Sam just rolled his eyes and laughed. But it was a real laugh and Dean felt himself relax a bit.
"Yeah, right. If that lets you sleep better at night." He pulled his hand back from Dean's forehead.
Something inside Dean wanted to protest, to lean into the touch a little longer…
He mentally shook himself. Okay, so maybe he was a little delirious.
_______
Sam eyed his brother worried. Dean looked like seven shades of shit. Face white as the sheets, except for the fever flushing his cheeks and the nearly purple circles under his eyes.
He still wasn't close to a solution how to help his brother. Bobby was right about the fact that there wasn't much information about Lamias and Sam didn't know what to do. Killing this bitch was his favourite option so far, though they didn't know if this would help Dean at all. But it certainly would help Sam feeling better.
"How long was I out?" Dean's faint voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts.
"Nearly two and a half hours. How're you feeling?" He grabbed the water glass and the box of Tylenol and Antibiotics from the nightstand.
"'m fine." Dean tried to clear his bleary vision. Sam gave him a long look and finally Dean sighed softly.
"Okay, I felt better, but still, I had worse."
I doubt that, Sam thought, but left it unsaid.
"Bobby's on his way. Think we can use some extra help." The younger Winchester smiled lightly.
"Yeah, think 's a good idea." Dean muttered and blinked wearily. Crap! Hadn't he slept enough already?
"You need to drink some more water and take these." Sam helped Dean into a more or less upright position. The older Winchester leaned heavily against the headboard, trembling with fever.
"It's still cold in here." Dean complained softly after swallowing the pills.
"It's not cold in here. It's just because of the fever. Your temp's up but steady to 103.5." Concern was obvious inside Sam's words.
"Wow, told ya, 'm a hot guy." Dean joked weakly.
"Dean." Sam said with a warning tone. Not funny!
Dean sobered. "You found anything?"
"Yes, actually Bobby has. We know what we're dealing with. It's a Lamia."
The older Winchester just blinked quizzically at him.
"Ancient Greek. This thing's old and supposed to be extinct." Sam added.
"Great. Lucky me.", he muttered, eyes at half-mast. "And, will I live, doc?" Dean saw the flicker of guilt and fear in Sam's eyes. Shit!
"Sammy, don' worry. We'll find something. 'S gonna be 'kay. Maybe this shit vanishes on its own.", he reasoned and blinked slowly. Damn, he had to get a grip!
"Yeah, maybe." Sam didn't sound convinced and he knew Dean didn't believe it, too. It would just be too easy. And Winchester Luck never took the easy way.
Dean's eyes stayed shut longer and longer.
"Dean, it's okay, go back to sleep. I'll take care of the rest." Sam reassuringly squeezed his hand. Chick-flick be damned, but right now he needed some physical contact.
Dean blinked again stubbornly. "'m not tired. Can help… with the research.", he mumbled sleepy.
Sam had to smile at this.
"Later, for now just rest. Can't let you drool all over the keys." He squeezed Dean's hand again before re-wetting the washcloth and placing it back on his forehead.
Dean grumbled something that sounded close to 'bite me'. His eyes blinked shut one last time and then stayed that way.
Just when Sam thought his brother was back to sleep Dean's voice startled him.
"S'mmy? Please don' leave." Dean mumbled. Eyes closed and almost lost in fever induced dreams again.
Sam swallowed hard. It scared him to see his big brother so defenseless. It just wasn't right.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."
Dean exhaled softly and nestled deeper into the covers.
Sam sat like this a few more minutes, watching his brother sleep. Eventually he stood up and walked over to the window.
It was nearly 6am and dawn had broken. The early morning sky was dark and thick with heavy, grey rain clouds. Pouring rain had set in an hour ago.
Sam leaned his forehead against the cool glass and stared out into the rainy twilight.
Shitshitshitshitshit! He hated this feeling of total helplessness. And the worst of all things was to see his big brother in this condition. Dean was getting weaker. The poison was taking its toll on him and Sam didn't even want to think about what else could happen. But thank god, Bobby was coming. With his brother down for the count Sam really appreciated the help. It was childish, but one part of Sam still counted on Dean, his big brother, to make everything better.
And he was sure that, if the roles were changed, Dean would find something to help him. Though now it was his turn to take care of him.
Sam closed his eyes for a moment. Even if they could figure out how to get rid of the poison, there was still this fucking deal. One year. Only one year to figure out how to save his brother from hell – literally.
Okay, stop it! Damn it! One problem at a time! So, focus!
A theory was forming inside his head. He was fairly sure that Dean wasn't the only one who sickened by this poison. So what if all the other victims had experienced similar effects?
He wasn't sure if and how this would help, but at least it was a start.
Sam glanced at his watch - 6:08am. Far too early for some interviews and moreover he wouldn't leave Dean here alone.
Maybe two or three more hours and Bobby would be here. Then they could plan their next steps.
Sam turned away from the window and rubbed over his burning eyes. Crap, he was tired. Though there was no sleep in sight for him. He had to research some more. There had to be something about this damn thing.
Armed with a cup of black coffee and his laptop, Sam settled back on the floor next to Dean's bed, back resting against the nightstand. He needed the closeness right now.
Dean was still out like a light, but moving restlessly from time to time.
Sam dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, wished the damn weariness would go away.
Sighing he connected the laptop with the internet and started his research again.
_______
He woke to the sound of dry heaving. Confused he looked around to comprehend what was happening.
Grey daylight seeped into the room. Rain still pounded against the windows.
Swearing, Sam tried to ease the cramping muscles inside his back and neck.
Once again he heard the sound of dry heaving.
The knot in his stomach tightened, as he realized that the bed next to him was empty. What the…?
Within the blink of an eye Sam was up on his feet, heart pounding painfully inside his chest.
"Dean?" His eyes searched the room, until they landed on the huddled figure on the floor on the other side of the bed.
"Dean!" Sam hurried to his brother and crouched beside him. Dean was on all fours and still heaving, though there was nothing left inside his stomach.
"Hey, it's okay." Sam soothed, rubbing circles over Dean's damp back.
The older Winchester groaned miserable. "Fuck, just shoot me." Another wave of nausea washed over him and he gagged again.
Sam steadied his brother's trembling body before he could fully face plant. He cringed at the amount of heat that radiated off of Dean.
Eventually the heaving subsided and Dean slumped back against his little brother. The room spun sickly around him and almost threatened his queasy stomach to flip-flop again. He closed his eyes in the hope that it would stop the dizziness.
Sam's voice sounded far away. He felt a light pressure on his arm.
"Come on, dude, help me out here. Don't think the floor is that comfortable."
"'m good here." Dean mumbled sleepy.
"Maybe. But I'm not letting you sleep here. So come on. The faster we get you back to bed, the faster you can go back to dreamland."
Sam hauled his brother back to his feet, though Dean would have went down again if it wasn't for Sam's grip on him.
Dean grumbled softly.
"Hey, stop bitching." Sam panted slightly as he dragged Dean back to bed. "What were you doing on the floor anyways?" he asked while pulling the blanket back over his brother.
The older Winchester avoided to look into Sam's eyes. "Thought I would make it to the bathroom before …" he muttered in a low voice, which sounded close to embarrassment.
"Next time just say something. You don't know who else had puked on this carpet." Sam joked lightly and brushed some sweat soaked strands away form Dean's too warm forehead.
The absence of his brother's bitching or snapping at him for invading his personal space was enough to tell Sam that Dean really must be feeling like shit.
"You were asleep. Don' wanted 't wake ya." Dean slurred with closed eyes, nearly asleep again. "Dad said watch out for Sammy, and that I do." The words were barely audible but Sam didn't miss them.
A sad smile appeared on his face. There it was – even burning up with fever and on the edge to passing out, Dean still tried to take care of him.
Hell, his brother was always there, the only constant in his life. He'd even take a trip downstairs to save his life.
No, he won't! I'll find a way out of this fucking deal!
But first things first – the fucking Lamia. Now it was his turn to save Dean's ass for a change.
When he was sure his big brother was lost in his feverish dreams again, Sam stood up and shuffled slowly into the bathroom.
He splashed cold water onto his face, hoping it would help against the damn weariness.
A look at his watch showed that he must have slept at least for an hour.
"Crap, Bobby, hurry, will ya?", he muttered and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
________
It was nearly noon when Bobby eventually arrived.
The day hadn't looked up so far and it was still raining cats and dogs out there.
Sam was at his fifth cup of coffee when the older hunter knocked.
"Shit, what kind of weather is that? You wouldn't even send a dog out there." Bobby swore under his breath and stormed into the dry safety of the motel room.
"Kid, you look like you had a hell of a night.", he stated dryly and eyed the younger Winchester closely.
"Yeah, well, let's just say, if we find something soon, I'll sleep a whole lot better." Sam ran a hand through his unruly hair and sighed.
"How is he?" Bobby glanced past Sam's shoulder over to the bed nearest the door. He kept his voice low so he wouldn't wake Dean.
"In and out, but mostly out." Sam followed Bobby who had come to a halt next to the bed.
Damn, the boy looked awful. He knew Sam wasn't much the exaggerating one, well, at least not since he was out of his early teenager years, but he hadn't expected that this poison worked that fast. It wasn't even a day ago since Dean got bitten.
His breathing was shallow and slightly uneven because of the shivers which were still running through his body. Painlines still evident in his pale face.
Bobby placed a calloused hand on Dean's brow.
"Crap.", he hissed softly. This can't be good.
Dean stirred under the touch.
"S'm?"
"Not quite. Hell, boy, you can't do anything the easy way, hu?" Bobby fought to keep his voice light but couldn't fully suppress the slight angry note in it. He, like Sam, had searched for a solution out of the deal over the past weeks.
He knew Dean, knew his way to act like there was nothing wrong and no hellfire would await him at the end of his year. But still sometimes Dean's newfound recklessness annoyed him.
"Bobby?" Dean turned his head away from the hand and blinked tiredly, tried to summon some strength so he wouldn't give away how truly miserably he felt.
"Your bedside manners suck.", he stated groggily. His glassy eyes searched the room until they eventually settled on Sam, who sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.
"I remind you the next time you start bitching about me fussing." Sam grinned but couldn't quite hide the concern in his eyes.
"Whatever." Dean mumbled and tried to sit up.
"Woah, what you doing?" Sam stopped Dean's movements and pushed him back down. He tried to ignore the spiking concern about how easy this was.
"Helping you an' Bobby." Dean replied panting. "'m sick an' tired of lying around here." He batted Sam's hand away and tried to sit up again.
It was Bobby's hand that held him back this time.
"Try to open your eyes more than just half-mast and you would be more convincing." The older hunter gave Dean's shoulder a slight clap.
"Dean, you're sick. Just relax, okay. We'll figure something out." Sam really hoped that they would come up with something pretty soon.
But the older Winchester still stubbornly battled to keep his eyes open.
"Stop fussing, both of you. 'm fine." Okay, he knew they wouldn't believe him anytime soon. But this whole mother-hen-crap was annoying.
Though despite his stubborn efforts, his body seemed to have other plans. His eyes blinked close on their own accord. He forced them open again, but they would stay shut longer and longer.
Bobby chuckled softly. "Yeah, well, you're making it not that easy to not fuss about you right now."
Dean grumbled something inaudible but his eyes blinked shut again and finally stayed that way.
Sam glanced at Bobby, whose face had become tight with worry, before re-wetting the cloth for what felt the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours.
_______
Sam sighed heavily and sank down on the chair opposite Bobby's.
Hands rubbing roughly over tired eyes.
"So, what now?" Sam sounded exhausted. His voice low to not wake Dean.
"He came through the night so far, so I think that's a good sign." Bobby eyed the younger hunter closely. The poor kid was on the edge of falling asleep on his feet.
"You think? Bobby, it's getting worse and we still have no fucking clue what to do!" His voice grew louder with every passing word.
"Would you please yell a little louder so that everyone in this damn motel can hear you?" Bobby snapped gruffly.
Sam breathed deeply to calm his inner turmoil.
"Sorry.", he muttered apologizing and rubbed over his eyes once more so he could avoid Bobby's gaze.
"It's okay.", the older hunter said, his face softened. "We get this bitch, and I swear, after I'm finished with it, Lamias are extinct!"
"Yeah." Sam agreed but still didn't sound all that convinced. He was quiet for a few heartbeats. When he spoke again he sounded tired but also determined.
"Okay, so where do we start?"
Bobby rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his forehead. "We still have a ton of research to go through. The last thing I've read was a report by some doctor from 1900. It said something about a man who was bitten by something. Well, he insisted that it was a woman with snake teeth who had done that to him. It didn't take long and he stated that he could hear said woman call him, though she wasn't around."
Sam's eyes grew wide. "And?"
Bobby sighed. "Nothing. They put him into a nuthouse. Somehow he managed to escape and around two weeks later they found his body. Well, at least what was left of it."
Sam slumped back into his chair. "Shit."
Bobby nodded in agreement. "You can say that again."
"But there has to be something somewhere! I mean these things are almost extinct, you said it yourself. So there has to be a way to kill it. They must have some kind of weak spot."
"Normal bullets won't work, but maybe silver will do some damage. They're partly wereanimals too." Bobby thought loudly.
"At the very least we can give it a try." Sam played absently with his empty coffee mug. "The other thing is that I'm pretty sure, every victim got sick."
"What let you think that?" Bobby got up to renew their coffee supply.
"It's just a theory, but I think that this is its way of hunting. The police report said, that each vic escaped after the first attack. Everything seemed okay, after that and than – wham, they're dead. Something must have happened in the meantime. I think the poison made them weak and willing to follow her call."
"And literally went into their own death." Bobby added.
"Yeah, something like that." Sam sipped the hot liquid greedily.
"So it would be a good idea to interview the vic's families." Bobby suggested.
Sam nodded and searched through the stack of papers until he handed Bobby a list of names.
"We had barely time to do some research at all, before all this here happened. Maybe we can work out a pattern – how the poison works, and how long it takes until her call gets too pronounced." Once again Sam rubbed over his burning eyes. God was he tired!
"Okay, I'm on it." Bobby studied the paper thoughtfully. The sixty-four thousand dollar question still was, if this damn poison was fatal or not and if there was some kind of antidote for it.
"You wanna go?" It was more a statement than a question.
Bobby gave him a funny look. "Who else? The second me? One of us has to stay with Dean and I suggest that would be you."
"Yeah, okay. I can do more research while you're out. I maybe can locate its hunting ground." Sam stifled a yawn.
Bobby eyed the younger Winchester for a moment, a fatherly look appeared in his eyes.
"Sam, you're dead on your feet. Did you get some sleep at all last night?"
"Grabbed some minutes here and there." He said but avoided to look at Bobby. Actually it was a good question – when was the last time he got some real good-night sleep? He used almost every minute that wasn't filled with hunting to search a way for Dean out of the deal.
Bobby nodded knowingly. "You should try and get some shut-eye. There's enough research for the both of us. And after you're done with your beauty sleep I'm heading out and talk to the families."
"I'm okay. And there's no time to waste." Sam suppressed a new yawn.
Bobby only raised an eyebrow. "Sure you are. And how do you think you can help your brother when this bitch got the better of you while you're half asleep on a hunt?"
He knew it was a low blow.
"Bobby, it's okay. And we really have no time for that." Sam tried to reason. Hell, he was longing for sleep but it had to wait.
Bobby didn't answer but gave him the look. The one that would make Sam feel like a child again what had done something wrong.
"Bobby…"
"Don't even try it, kid. Lay down before you fall down. I'll wake you in a bit and then we plan our next steps." His words didn't leave room for arguing.
Sam closed his eyes for a brief moment and let out a long sigh. "Okay, fine. But only for two hours, then…"
Dean's voice interrupted Sam though the words weren't directed at him or Bobby.
"Damn, why won't you jus' shuddup, bitch?"
"Dean?" Sam's and Bobby's head shot up.
Dean's eyes were open, though the gaze was unfocused and distant. Eyes fixed on something only he could see.
The two hunters exchanged a quick look then they made their way over to Dean.
"Dean?" Sam asked again.
It took some time but eventually Dean looked at him.
"Hey, what's up? Who should shut up, hu?" Sam's tone was calm and even but the knot inside his gut clenched painfully.
"Sammy, make her shuddup." The words were a weak slur.
Sam sat down next to his brother. "Who, Dean?" A bad feeling crept up his stomach.
"Please make her shuddup." It was dangerously close to a pleading. "She's callin' me. Over an' over."
Sam glanced at Bobby whose concerned gaze was trained on Dean.
"Dean, don't listen to her. We'll figure something out. It's gonna be okay." Sam placed the back of his hand against Dean's forehead. A worried frown appeared on his face.
"Damn, I think your fever's going up again."
Dean didn't seem to hear his brother, his gaze distant and far away.
"Dean." Sam shook him slightly.
The older Winchester blinked wearily and groaned softly as the movement startled his injured arm.
"Hey, you with me?" Sam had a hard time to keep his voice calm and even.
"Can't shut her out. She's so loud." Dean's lids slid close on their own will but he refused to let them. He reached out for Sam's wrist. The grip weak but still surprisingly tight.
"Don' go, 'kay?"
"I won't, you know that. Hang on, okay!?" Sam squeezed his arm in a reassuring manner.
Dean's eyes finally stayed shut and his grip around his brother's wrist became limp.
Sam swallowed hard past the lump inside his throat. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"We find something, so don't worry. Get some sleep while I'll do some more research."
"Bobby, we have to…"
"Boy, this isn't a suggestion. I don't think we need the families to get a pattern how this crap works. And if you wanna protect your brother you sure as hell should get some strength back. And that includes getting some sleep." The older hunter said firm. His gaze flickered over to Dean's injured arm.
A light wave of nausea washed over him. The dark red, near purple streaks had almost reached his shoulder, hidden under the fabric of theT-shirt. New streaks also started to creep down to his wrist. The wound was still seeping and there was a growing wet spot on the dressing.
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.
"You're worse than Dean.", he muttered under his breath while getting up and over to the other bed.
"What was that?" Bobby asked but couldn't quite hide his smirk.
"Two hours, Bobby. And wake me, if something…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Now sleep." Bobby interrupted him.
It didn't take long until exhaustion and sleep deprivation got the better of him and he fell asleep.
________
It felt like he had barely slept at all when Bobby woke him again.
Sam sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"You found something?" He looked up at Bobby, vision still blurry with sleep.
"Not really. I think this poison works slowly comparing to others. Maybe we can find some herbs or a spell or something like this."
Not really what Sam wanted to hear but still better than nothing.
"Any change?" Sam looked over to Dean who was buried deeply underneath the blanket but still shivered lightly.
The older hunter just shook his head. "Temp's up to 103.8. I think her hold on him gets stronger. If you're ready, I wanna go, talk to the families."
Sam rubbed one last time over his eyes, before standing up and stretching.
"No, it's okay. Maybe…" He stopped midsentence and strained his ears. "You heard that?" Adrenalin started to course through his system.
"Hear what?" Bobby asked, senses already on high-alert.
There it was again – a scratching noise just outside their door.
Bobby's brow furrowed. It took him two long strides to reach the window and peek out of it into the empty parking lot.
It was still raining and the afternoon light was grey and dim.
Nothing seemed to be wrong out there. But that normally didn't mean much.
Sam already stood at the door, gun in his hand, waiting for Bobby to say something.
"Silver bullets?" The older hunter asked and grabbed his own gun.
Sam nodded and carefully opened the door.
They stepped out into the nearly empty parking area.
Bobby scanned the parked cars closely but nothing seemed to be out there.
Rain seeped through the fabric of Sam's shirt. The cold sensation sent a shudder up and down his back.
"Damn, we're getting paranoid here." Bobby still searched the surrounding with his eyes. Gun safely out of sight but still close enough to reach for it easily.
Sam sighed mentally, relieved not to find the Lamia out here, waiting and ready to attack them.
"Well, better safe than sorry." He muttered and tucked the gun back into the waistband of his jeans, eyes still roaming over the parking area.
"Right. C'mon, let's get back inside before we're completely drenched." Bobby turned around only to stop abruptly.
"Dean?" He sounded surprised.
Sam also turned towards the door and glanced at his brother who was leaning heavily and shivering against the doorframe.
Sam felt like he just had a déjà vu, the sight the same as a few hours ago.
"Dean, what're you doing out here?"
"Hey, don' think I let the three of you go on this hunt alone." Dean looked serious but the teeth chattering betrayed his determination.
Bobby and Sam exchanged a glance before focusing back on Dean.
"The three of us?" Bobby asked carefully.
"Dean?" Sam frowned worriedly.
Dean eyed both hunters with a funny expression.
"Dad. Where's he anyways?"
It was then that Sam noticed the glassy and unfocused eyes and the beads of sweat running down Dean's brow and temples. He didn't know what to say, but luckily Bobby saved him from that.
"Your daddy drove into town to get some things for the hunt."
Dean seemed satisfied with the answer but still remained in his position against the doorframe.
"Why don't you go back to bed? You're still sick and dad won't be back within the next hour." Sam sounded calm. He tried to ignore the fear and panic that blossomed inside his chest.
"Don' worry, Sammy. 'S just a little bug, that's all. 'm fine." The words breathy and without much strength.
It was a lie because Sam could see Dean sway on his feet like a leaf in the wind.
He caught Dean in time just before his knees fully gave out under him and he could face plant on the asphalt. The heat that radiated off of him set Sam's alarm bells on inside his head.
"Shit, Bobby, help me get him back inside."
Together they dragged the unconscious Winchester back into the room and to the bed closest the door.
Dean didn't even stir once.
"Damn, the kid's hot." Booby drew back his hand from Dean's neck, not liking the fast pulse under his fingertips.
Sam grabbed the thermometer form the nightstand. His stomach clenched painfully. His fear was confirmed only seconds later when the beep startled him.
"Fuck, Bobby, 104.2." He knew his panic was obvious but he didn't care. This was dangerously high.
"What now? Hospital?"
"Not if we can avoid that. They would find the poison in his system and I don't think they'll come up with something usefully but a whole lot of nasty questions."
Sam didn't like it, but Bobby was right.
"Then what?" His gaze flickered back and forth between Bobby and Dean's unresponsive and shivering form.
"Cold bath." The older hunter said eventually.
Sam cringed at this thought but nodded finally.
The older hunter disappeared inside the bathroom and a few seconds later Sam heard the sound of running water.
"Sorry." Sam mumbled while pulling off the damp T-shirt, leaving Dean only in his boxers.
Bobby emerged the bathroom a few moments later, worry written all over his face.
"Tub is ready. Do you need help?"
Sam thought about this for a moment, but then just shook his head.
"No, it's okay."
"Holler if you need me."
Sam nodded, before he hoisted Dean up in his arms.
________
Dean's back arched and he shivered violently. Sam tightened his grip around Dean's shoulders even more. Tried to keep his brother from struggling too much.
"Dean, calm down. I know this sucks, but we have to bring your fever down!" Sam said gently, though the desperate note was still evident in it.
Oblivious to Sam's words Dean still fought to break free from his brother's arms. His hands scrambled over the rim of the tub, trying to free himself from this hell.
"mmmnooooo. Hurts. 'lemme g-go. 's too c-cold." glassy eyes darted sightlessly through the room. His feverish mind couldn't comprehend what was going on.
"I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon, I promise. You have to trust me." The lump in Sam's throat made breathing difficult. Briefly he wondered where Bobby had gone, but his brother's weak struggle forced his attention back to the here and now. Dean still battled weakly against Sam's tight grip which held him in place inside the lukewarm water.
"No.", he gasped His voice breathy and unsteady because of the shivers which still wracked his body.
"H-hurts. Sam. Sammy!!" Dean nearly screamed and started trashing again.
He was calling him - calling him for help. Sam swallowed hard. God, couldn't this whole fucking thing be over now? No friggin' Lamia, no friggin' deal - only normality. Well, at least as normal, as it could be for a Winchester.
"Dean, I'm here. Calm down! It's gonna be okay." Sam forced his voice to sound gentle and even. He tightened his grip a bit more. Spiky hair brushed his neck. He felt the threatening sting behind his eyes. No way that he would start crying now! No way in hell!
Dean's struggle became weaker.
"Sammy, p-please make it s-stop." he whispered broken. Violent shivers ran through his whole body. Eventually all fight left him and he relaxed against the wall of the tub and into his brother's arms.
It took Sam a few seconds to realize Dean was unconscious again.
"It's gonna be okay.", he said softly and closed his eyes for a brief moment, his forehead leaning against the back of Dean's head. His heart still pounded too fast and too painful inside his chest.
________
Ten agonizing long minutes later Sam heaved a still unconscious Dean back out of the tub. His temp was back down to 102 again. Not quite what Sam wanted to see, but still better than before.
When he had finally settled Dean back to bed he saw Bobby flipping his phone shut and walking over to him.
"Fever's down a bit." Sam informed him while peeling the soaked bandage away from Dean's arm. The knot inside his stomach tightened again, when he saw the two bright red and puffy bite marks. Puss still sluggishly oozed out of them.
Without a word Bobby handed him the things he would need to clean the wound.
"Good. I've called a few friends of mine – hunters. They'll keep eyes and ears open for information about this Lamia."
"Do you think they'll find something?" Sam didn't look up form his work but Bobby knew without seeing that there was desperation inside the kid's eyes.
"I hope so. Sam, the interviews…", he began slowly.
"It's okay – go. We're gonna be okay here. And we need the info." Sam finally glanced at Bobby. It was obvious that he didn't want to leave. A faint grin twitched around Sam's lips.
"Okay, but call me, if anything changes."
"I will. And please be careful."
"Your brother was right about you and the mother-henning." Bobby grinned while taking the papers with the names and the car keys.
"Bite me." Sam's own grin was tight.
Bobby threw a last look over his shoulder, then the door closed behind him.
______
Half an hour later Sam was back on his laptop, lost in his research while growing frustrated with every useless link he found. And apparently the web was full of it.
He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, sighing heavily.
He was wondering if Bobby had more luck interviewing the vic's families.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Dean was slowly sitting up in bed.
"Dean, hey." Sam got up from his chair.
But Dean seemed to ignore him totally. Slowly he stood up from the bed and turned towards the door.
Fear spiked again inside Sam. God, please not again.
"What the hell – Dean!" Sam stepped in front of his brother. "What're you doing?"
Ever so slowly Dean focused his eyes on Sam. The look in them distant and glassy.
The younger Winchester winced in sympathy as he saw the blood sluggishly dripping out of Dean's nose.
"Get outta my way, Sam." The voice emotionless.
"What – what the hell are you trying to do?" A bad feeling crept up inside Sam's gut.
"'m going to her." Dean tried to push past his brother but Sam held him back.
"You what? C'mon man, you can't be serious. This is a trap, you know that."
Dean still fought to get to the door.
"Sam, I dare you, lemme go!" The warning note inside his words was clear.
"Dean, damnit, snap out of it!" Sam shook his brother slightly.
He neither expected Dean's fist that collided with his face nor the surprising force that was behind the blow.
He stumbled a few steps back, stars dancing in front of his eyes. He could taste copper inside his mouth.
Okay, this was so not good! How could Dean be that strong so suddenly?
Before he even could recover from the first punch, Dean was over him again.
"I warned you not to interfere. She's calling me, saying I should come to her."
"Dean…" Sam pressed out. He blinked furiously to clear his blurry vision.
With a force Dean shouldn't have right now he banged Sam's forehead against the wall next to the door.
Sam sagged limply to the floor, blood ran freely from a cut over his right brow.
Without a second look Dean overstepped his brother's unconscious form and got out of the door and into the pounding rain.
TBC....
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