Chapter 4:

I carried Sam to the impala as fast as I could. Castiel helped me load him into the back seat, and seconds later, I was driving to Bobby's. Cas turned to me from the passenger seat. "What do you want to know?" He asked calmly.

"Everything. I want everything that's wrong with him." I was pushing eighty miles per hour and wasn't planning on slowing down.

Within seconds, Castiel was kneeling on the floor in front of the back seats that Sam was laid out on top of. We had managed to bandage his head, but he was going in and out of consciousness so quick that we couldn't get a word out of him. "His breathing's all over the place along with his heart rate. He's lost too much blood and… Dean?"

"What?" I wailed "Just tell me what's wrong! I don't need any Dr. Phil sugar-coating it crap!"

"How much sleep has he gotten?" I swallowed, and it felt like my throat was tightening up.

"Very little." I responded honestly. My voice was low and hoarse.

"He's exhausted and ill, Dean. If his body's going to heal on its own, it's going to need time."

I sighed, "He hasn't been able to sleep regularly, Cas." The angel turned to meet my eyes in the car's mirror; he looked puzzled.

"Why not?"

"He's been having nightmares… violent ones. I don't know what they are." Castiel looked down and seemed to zone out for a bit. "Cas, you with me?" I asked for confirmation, but he was gone. I sped up and looked at Sam in the back seat. He was reasonably pale, and I could see his chest rising and falling to a weird rhythm. He was mumbling things that were incoherent, and I wondered if he was having nightmares while he was unconscious.

"D'n." He garbled.

"Sam? I'm right here." He rolled on his side, and held his head with both hands like he was in pain. "Hang on, Sammy, we're almost to Bobby's." He moaned, - and I thought I heard him say 'hurry' - but I couldn't be sure.

When we got to Bobby's, I ran to the door and banged on it as hard as I could. Bobby finally answered and gave me a once over. "You look like hell, boy. You couldn't wash up before comin'?" He taunted.

"It's Sam." His playfulness immediately vanished.

"What's going on?" He asked nervously.

"Bobby, he's sick. I need your help." I admitted. After saying that, we both ran to the car and tried to coax Sam into the house. He fell to dead weight halfway there. "Sam, you gotta stay with me, here. I can't do this without you!" I begged. I was beginning to get desperate.

"Bobby? … Dean?" I heard him choke out.

"What, Sammy?" I asked. We had stopped walking.

"Down." He ordered. Bobby looked confused, but I wasn't.

"Bobby, let him down, quick!" I hollered. We both let Sam go as he got violently sick several feet away from the house. "Cas!" I shouted, "Where that hell are you?!" I kneeled beside my brother and told him we had to get him inside. He wasn't listening, and he looked ready to pass out again. "We gotta do this on our own." I explained to Bobby, "His legs won't make it any further." When Bobby nodded, I knew we were good to go. We carried him inside together and set him on the couch; that's when Castiel finally reappeared.

"He's gotten worse." He stated.

"Thank you." I spat sarcastically. "Wanna help or…?"

"Take his shirt off." Castiel commanded.

"Is this some kind of gay pleasure thing to you?" I asked irritably.

"His fever's 103.7. Take the shirt off." I had it unbuttoned and off in under a minute.

"What now?" I asked, looking at him worriedly.

"I've been asking around about the dreams."

"And?"

"He's never told you about them? Not one thing?"

"Never." I confirmed. "You were gone for forever and a day, and all you can do is ask me a stupid question?" I asked angrily. Bobby didn't seem to disagree with what I said, but I don't think he liked the way my frustration was boiling through my veins.

"Dean" He intervened. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen? Castiel, watch Sam." I got up and followed Bobby. Once we were in the small room, he promptly slapped me on the face.

"Bobby, what the-"

"You listen here, and you listen good." he started. "I don't think Sam is sick at all." I wanted to hit him back. Did he not see Sam puke in front of his house?

"How could you say that?" I asked with confusion and anger.

"These dreams… I've read about things like them… I think all this might just be one big side effect. I'm fairly confident he's havin' a nightmare right now." I turned and looked back to where Sam was on the couch. He seemed still, but what Bobby had said horrified me. Killer dreams weren't something Castiel could heal; they sounded more like something we hunted.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"You and Cas ain't gonna like this…" I looked away from his eyes before urging him to continue regardless, "We have to wake him up and keep him up, until we get to the bottom of this thing." I wanted Sam to sleep more than anyone in the room. I had been with him prior days before and had seen how these nights without sleep were practically sucking the life from him.

"I don't know about that, Bobby… " I confessed.

"Didn't I tell you you weren't gonna like it at first, you idjit? That ain't the point. It's sleep or Sam. Which one?"

I nodded slowly and marched back into the living room. "Cas, we gotta wake him up." I said firmly. Bobby made his way into the room and stood beside me.

"Dean-" Castiel got ready to argue.

"We gotta, Cas, or he might not wake up again." I told him. With that, I advised Castiel and Bobby to go get some ice water. If water was what woke him up before, it should have be able to do it again.

I was kneeling beside Sam as I waited. He was pale, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked like he had your everyday average flu. My hand instinctively wiped the sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead. He was warm… really warm. That's when Bobby and Cas returned.

"Bobby, he's burning up" I said with worry as I stood.

"I know. All the more reason to dump this on him." I stood back, "It's holy water… just in case." I nodded to them and watched as the water splashed over Sam's skin. He shivered, before his eyes opened.

"D'n… what 'appened?" He turned on his side and held his head just like he had in the impala. "Head hurts." He stated with a wince. I looked over at Bobby and Cas who seemed just as lost as I was with the whole situation.

"We got in a fight with some vamps, and you were down for the count." I explained, "We're at Bobby's now. You're gonna be okay, Sammy." His eyes shot over to me, and when I saw him, it was the most alert he had been in days.

"What time is it?"

"Why-" I began, but he sat straight up, and I lost the question somewhere on its way from my brain to my mouth. Sam looked at the clock and sprung to his feet.

"Slow down there, Kiddo." I heard Bobby caution.

"Where are the guns? The ones you pre-loaded with silver bullets?" He asked Bobby.

"Sammy!" I yelled at him to get his attention, to snap him out of it, but he wasn't listening.

"The closet. Right." I felt the color drain from my cheeks. Bobby and I were the ones that had loaded those a while ago. Sam was out on a food run at the time. He wouldn't have known that.

"How'd you know that?" Bobby asked him as Sam stumbled his way over to the closet and grabbed a gun. He got ready to shoot and crouched down with gun pointed at the front door.

"Are you even listening to us, Sam?" I growled.

"Ten… Nine…" He counted under his breath

"Sam!" He didn't even acknowledge me, he just kept counting. I looked at Bobby and Castiel. Bobby looked muddled and concerned, while Cas just watched intently with little to no expression.

"Three… Two… One." At that second, a werewolf pounced into the room, breaking the door down. My jaw dropped as Sam cocked the gun and killed it with one bullet. He was breathing heavily, like that had taken something out of him. I ran next to him and took a knee to feel his forehead.

"Guys, he's warming up pretty fast."

"How'd you know that would happen?" Castiel asked Sam as Bobby went to the kitchen to get a cool compress.

"It was in my dream." Sam stated through shallow breaths. "So was the vampire attack… that's why it felt so weird in there… like a trap… I couldn't tell why… It wasn't a trap, though… they didn't even know we were coming… But I knew about them… I-I knew."

"Cas, what's his temp?" I asked. Seconds later Castiel had his hand on Sam's forehead. My brother leaned into his cool touch.

"104. It shouldn't be this high, Dean. His body doesn't seem to be fighting off a human illness."

"Then what is this?!" I asked loudly. Bobby replaced Castiel's hand with the compress. When the angel didn't give me an answer, I turned to Bobby. "You said you read about this, right? Then what are the dreams? We killed the yellow-eyed demon. These were gone, remember?"

"Boy, when I said I read about them I was talking about back then, back when the visions were getting bad" Bobby stated, like I should have put that together.

"You mean to tell me your only theory is that these dreams are the same psychic ones he was having when the demon was still alive?!" I asked for confirmation.

"Don't raise your voice at me, look at him!" I reluctantly looked at Sam who was leaning heavily against the closet door with Castiel beside him.

"It doesn't make sense, Bobby." I said. "The visions and nightmares didn't do this to him before. There were no side effects."

"Which is why I don't think this is natural. It isn't something that's in his blood."

"You're losing me here." I admitted.

"This is a spell. Someone has it out for Sam. They're probably mad about how you killed the yellow-eyed demon in the first place." I sprung to my feet.

"Cas, help me look for a hex bag in the impala." I didn't know about a spell that could do that to someone, but I knew a person with experience in the field of witchcraft would have no problem finding one.

"Wait Dean." Bobby stopped me, "Help me bring Sam into our little 'panic room'" When I looked down at Sam, his eyes were closing, and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"What's going on?"

"Another nightmare is coming on, I assume." Bobby stated.

"Should we try to keep him awake?" I asked.

"Wait, Dean, allow me to possess your brother, while he sleeps." Castiel offered before Bobby could answer, "I would see what these nightmares are, and perhaps, I could help." I was apprehensive at first, but after realizing we had no other beneficial option, I agreed.

I swallowed roughly "Okay, Cas, but one condition."

"Of course."

"Take me with you."

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