Against the Current

by Visionairy

Spoilers for 5x14. Famine is dead, and now Sam and Dean have to figure out how they can fight the apocalypse if one is hopeless and the other is dead inside. But first they have to get to Bobby's.

Chapter 4

Not more than half an hour passed before Sam stretched his neck and rolled his head as far as he could to one side and then to the other till he felt a crack. Then he relaxed back against the pillow and stared out the window.

Ten minutes later, the process repeated itself, this time he rolled his head in a circle before dropping his chin to his chest and stretching it as far as he could before bringing his head back up again and pushing back into the pillow. His eyes roved around the car and then settled out the window again.

No more than five minutes later he started up again. Dean glanced over at his restless sibling. Sam blew out a breath, then stretched his chin as far as he could up towards the roof, and rolled his head slowly from shoulder to shoulder again. Clearly the paralysis was getting to him.

"You're going to break your neck if you keep doing that." Dean kept trying to focus on the road and on his brother at the same time. "Look Sam, do you need to take another break? D'ya want to lay down in the back for a while?"

Sam turned back to face his brother, "No, I'm okay. I just want to get this over with." He dropped his gaze to his lap for a while and then took a deep breath before looking back up at his brother, "Listen, Dean, when we do get to Bobby's – when you get me secured in the room - I want you to just leave me alone in there. I just, I don't want to hurt you – and you know it could happen. Last time you said you had to tie me down 'cause my powers were throwing me around the room. Well, if that's the case, I could do the same to you without even knowing it."

"Sam…" Dean started.

"No, Dean. It's true. And it's not just that." He hesitated and then lowered his voice, "I don't want you to see me like that."

"Like I haven't seen…"

"Dean, just … just listen." Sam gathered his thoughts for a couple of seconds before he went on, "Look, I don't want you to hear what I say while I'm in there. I don't trust myself. I'll say things, things that aren't true, just to get to you." He looked over at his brother, "Dean, we both know there's more than one way we can hurt each other."

"Get some sleep, Sam."

"No, I mean it Dean. Just stay away from me until I'm clean. Please."

Shaking his head sadly, Dean looked back over to his brother, "I can't promise that, Sam."

"Dean ..."

"Sam, I know where you're coming from, really I do. We've both said things that …," he shook his head in disgust, "But, this time, this time we know it's the blood talking."

Sam's jaw twitched, "Dean, people are still dying out there. There are still two more horsemen. Maybe you and Cas could track down some leads. Bobby'll call you …"

"No, Sam. It's not happening. I'm not going to hang you out to dry on this."

"Why? It's not as if you can do anything to stop it or to change what I'm going to do. But, Dean, the things that I might do, that I might say that I can't control, I don't want you to be there for that. I don't want to risk saying something that will hurt our ...."

"Sammy, I'll give you your space, I will… but I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving Bobby's until you're ready to go with me." Hands gripping the steering wheel, he offered Sam his expression that clearly showed his mind was made up.

Sam rolled his eyes, and tried to figure out how to reword his objection, but Dean just reached over and rested his hand on his shoulder, "Besides, I really thought you'd learned the lesson."

Sam's eyes narrowed, "The lesson?"

"The lesson, Sam. T-h-e lesson." He slowed the car and nodded pointedly towards his brother, "The one both heaven and hell, tricksters and demons, angels and archangels, friends …" he paused meaningfully, "… both past and present, Mom and Dad … hell, they've all taught us – and we," he gestured between the two of them, "…we spent a lifetime learning." He squeezed Sam's shoulder in emphasis, "We stick together, Sam. We watch each other's backs. We are stronger together, and …" he rolled his hand for his brother to continue, hoping Sam would catch on, "And …"

Rolling his eyes, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, Sam picked up where his brother left off, "… and we keep each other human."

"Damn right, little brother," Dean slapped Sam's knee, "That's the one."

With a resigned nod from Sam, Dean pulled his focus back to the road. A few minutes later, Sam started his stretching ritual again. But after rolling his neck once and then pressing his head side to side, he finally settled back into the pillow, and this time after ten minutes had passed, Sam just closed his eyes.

By the time dawn was breaking, Dean had to pull over to get some gas. Sam's restlessness had been increasing significantly during that time, and the frustration he was feeling from not being able to move was getting on his very last nerve. The muscles in his neck spasmed from time to time though he was doing everything in his power to ignore it. About an hour earlier, as he'd stared out the window at a hawk circling overhead, just as an experiment, Sam tried to move his little finger. He couldn't do anything at first, but over the miles, and with some deep concentration, Sam had finally felt a twitch.

Now, when Dean finished filling up the car and knocked suddenly on Sam's window, he felt his finger jump further at the sound. "Hey, either of you want something to drink or anything?"

Cas slid forward in his seat, pleased to be included once again. "Sudoku. And a pen."

Dean stopped and then tilted his gaze to the back seat, "Sudoku? You gotta be kidding me. Seriously, Cas?" He shook his head as he looked back to Sam, "Yeah, I'll be sure to get right on that. Sam?"

"Water," Sam ground his teeth together again, "Cold this time."

"Yeah, you got it. In fact I'm going to get you one of those beer hats while I'm at it. The ones with the bottles on top with a straw that reaches your mouth." Dean grinned, Sam just glared back.

But as Dean headed off to pay and get the supplies, Sam continued to test his extremities. After a few minutes of intense focus, he realized that not only could he get more of his fingers to respond, but he could actually begin to feel his toes shift in his shoes. Sam decided that if he could move just a little more, he could get comfortable. That's all he wanted, after all, and it was reasonable. If he could just get more comfortable, he could control himself longer. That was what they all needed.

An old dog skittered behind the truck in the lot across from him, but Sam just concentrated on moving his wrist. He was focusing so hard that when Dean opened his door, he was startled to find himself falling toward him.

Dean quickly leaned in to hold him in place. Screwing the cap off the water bottle, he held it near his brother's lips. Sam opened his mouth just a little, and Dean tilted the bottle up for him. "Easy, take it easy," he cautioned, "…you don't need to choke."

After Sam had had his full, Dean squatted next to him, looking up into his face. Sam was sweating despite the cool morning air, and that wasn't a good sign. Dean put his hand against his brother's neck and felt the heat there. Sam twisted his head away.

Leaning in closer, Dean spoke softly, "Seriously, Sam – how're you doing?"

But Sam couldn't answer. A battle was being waged in his head. He wanted to answer Dean truthfully, he did. But if he did, Dean wouldn't let him move. He'd try to stop him. He'd tie him down and not let him go. Desperately, Sam tried again. This time not only could he move his fingers, but he was able to twitch his wrist as well. And when he really concentrated, his ankle moved a quarter of an inch too.

"Sam?"

"No"

But Dean could barely hear him, "Sammy?"

"No!" Sam ground out. "I won't do it."

"Hey," Dean tensed. Bracing his hand on Sam's shoulder, he looked into the anguished eyes of his sibling. "What are you saying? No? What won't you do, Sam?"

"Dean, listen to me." Sam spoke urgently, spilling out his words while he still could, "Cas better whammy me again now, 'cause I can already move my fingers, and," he concentrated again, "my wrist, and if I try harder, I think I'll be able to move more. And…," he looked meaningfully at Dean, "… I'm beginning to really want to."

Dean stood up quickly and looked over to the backseat. If Sam was losing control of his mind, but gaining control of his body, they had to act quickly. Dean couldn't risk losing Sam now. "Cas? Can you stop him?"

Cas leaned forward. "He should not yet be able to move. His powers must be making him stronger than I anticipated."

Sam tried to stretch his leg, and felt his knee budge. Breathing faster, he turned his head as far as he could to the back, "Knock me out, Cas. Please. If you can't, then take me to Bobby's. Just – I can't … just put me out now. I don't think I can control it anymore. Please."

Cas looked questioningly over to Dean, who gave a tight nod, "Do it."

"I am sorry, Sam." Castiel touched his forehead, and Sam, thankfully, didn't wake up again until Dean was securing him to the bed inside Bobby's panic room.

tbc

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