Hello again :) I was going to wait and post this chapter this weekend but then I got so many great reviews and thought I would make you a bit happy, Anyway this is just a short chapter, more like a fill in for things to come, Take care and hope to hear from you all/ swenglish

Everything hurt. His head, his back and his neck were absolutely killing him. Every bone in his body felt as they had been crushed and his stomach churned violently and that combined with the constant dizziness made him want to throw up. To say that he was in hell would be an understatement. At least it had to be just as hot.

Moving restlessly in bed, not finding any comfortable spot not even in his sleep, Sam had kicked off the blanket and sheets several times trying to get away from the sweltering heat. Shortly after his body would be wracked with chills and he would be shivering as if he was stuck in the Artic. The bed was drenched in his sweat, making it even more uncomfortable and he felt absolutely miserable. He'd tossed and turned, dreamt strange dreams while he was barbequed only to wake up feeling bile burn in his throat. Even in his deepest dreams the headache was making itself known and he could barely move his head due to the stiffness in his neck.

Every time he tried to wake up the light hurt his eyes, making them want to bleed. Could his eyes really bleed from sickness? As they had done when they chased Bloody Mary? His thoughts were so jumbled and even when he did his best to sort them out they didn't make much sense. The few times he'd managed to stay awake he heard a woman's voice talking to him, soothing him, telling him that everything would be okay and he needed to relax. This confused him even more. Could it be Jess? No she sounded too old? Could it be…?

"Mom?"

His own voice sounded strange even to him and when the woman stroked him on his forehead he felt even more confused. He had no memory of his mom but from the little he knew, what he'd seen from pictures and heard from the stories Dad and Dean had told him, seemed nice. Just like this stranger who was sitting beside him, wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

But if this was his mom why would she there for him? Wasn't she dead?

His brain felt like it would explode yet he wanted to ask Dean, wanted to tell him that their mom was here to see them. He would be so pleased. But calling out his brothers' name there was no reply and panic dwelled up inside him. Where was he? Why wasn't he there for him? The fever made it hard to think and everything felt so strange all of a sudden. It felt as if he was threading under water. There was water everywhere; in his eyes, nose and ears, even in his mouth and it was choking him. Making it hard to breathe, to think….

Sam struggled, coughing. He was drowning.

Never been the one to like water ever since he was a small kid and almost drowned when they were out fishing on a small boat, and Dean saved him, he tried with all his might not to be dragged down into the black hole: the abyss. Flaring with his arms and legs Sam fought to stay on the surface only to be pressed down again.

His legs and arms felt numb and as he tried to call out for help there were no sound. This only served to make the panic bigger and he could feel his body cramp in the process. It was scary and he just wanted it all to stop. The grip on his legs and arms suddenly tightened and just when he thought this was it; his head or heart was going to explode, the cramp lessened and he fell back to the bed. Exhausted.

The feeling of drowning was gone.

"That's it buddy, snap out of it." The voice around him sounded urgent and he felt a hand take his in a tight grip. "Sammy, come on wake up.

Opening his eyes Dean's face swam into vision, smiling at him. It was mostly a blur but there were no way he could mistake those dark brown eyes peering down at him, filled with concern. Sam wanted to smile, wanted to tell him not to worry since their mom was there with them. He wanted to say that everything would be just fine, yet couldn't force himself to do so. A cold cloth was pressed down his forehead making him shiver from the chills that traveled down his spine. "Shhh take it easy," Dean was there talking to him gently, "You're running a high fever and we're going to take you to the hospital."

Hospital? Noooo. Sam wanted to object yet when he opened his mouth no sounds were coming out. He wasn't that sick, just cold and achy and felt like hell…okay maybe a hospital wouldn't be so bad after all. There was little recollection over the day that passed and as he tried his best to remember where he was and who was there with him in the room everything was mixed together like scrambled eggs.

Scrambled eggs? Oh why did I have to think about that, he thought miserably as he felt his stomach churn. Swallowing hard he did his best to push back the nausea but that was a no go and soon he found himself leaning over a basin turning his stomach outside and in. Just like a dirty rag sock. Moving hurt even worse than before and there were no way he could hold back his tears any longer. Feeling them flow freely down his cheeks Sam could never remember feeling this sick before and it didn't help that Dean was there for him, patting his back. All he wanted to do at that moment was to die.

When the worst spell was over and his stomach had calmed down everything felt heavy all at once. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't force himself to stay awake and as sleep was ready to claim him Sam held his brother's hand in a tight grip, never wanting to let go.

Never in his life had Dean felt more useless then he did watching his little brother cramp up into a violent seizure. The whole incident didn't last more than a few seconds but felt like hours. His legs shook violently and he had to sit down or he feared he would be the one to pass out. Everything had been scary and unnatural and he couldn't remember ever being this frightened in his life; creatures and spirits even demons all forgotten.

For a moment there he was afraid he was loosing his brother for real.

Breathing hard he didn't want to let the grip go on his brothers hand afraid that something bad would happen if he did. Joe had come in to the room telling them he'd called for an ambulance and that they would take Sam to Columbus Community hospital 20 miles away. Now all Dean could do was to hope and pray that there would be no further seizures since there were no telling what damage it could do to his brother.

"Honey I know. It's a frightening sight, but it's much more scary to witness something like this for you than it is for Sam."

"How do…do you know?" Dean did his best to make his tone steady but it was hard.

"Like I said; I have sons." Kathy smiled at him, gently soothingly like only a woman that had her own children could do. "It's not unusual to have seizures the way your brother had when you spike a fever. My youngest, Todd, used to get them all the time." She paused, "Do you know if Sam had spells like these before?"

Visions. His first thoughts went to the visions Sam had been a victim of, but then they had been different. Not as violently. They didn't make him jerk like he'd been hit with electricity and didn't cause cramps in the say was as this episode had done. Okay he had to admit Sam was prone to high temperatures but he was certain that if something similar to this had occurred in the past he would never forget it. "Nope, Not that I know of." Sighing he asked, "You've got any ideas what he might have?"

Mrs. Larkin shook her head, "Not for certain, but a lot of Sam's recent symptoms reminds me of when my little brother was sick as a teenager."

"What did he have? Mono?"

"No," she smiled then became serious, " He had meningitis."

Meningitis?

Shit! Wasn't that something you died from?

Dread washed over him like bucket of cold water. "Isn't that deadly?" Crap! Dean wanted to die. Why hadn't he seen the symptoms before? They were all so clear now and he cursed the fact that he'd been so blind. Blind like an ass.

"Not anymore. They have good treatments beside it depends what kind of meningitis you got. My brother had bacterial." Sensing the panic in the young man she went on, "But that was 35 years ago."

"So what happened to him? Did he get okay?" He did his best to make his tone steady but inside panic dwelled up all over him. 'Please, please say that he got well again,' he begged but to his surprise found that Kathy either avoid the question or didn't hear it.

"Dean I don't think you have to be worried. Sam doesn't have a rash like Bob did and having a headache and a high temperature is common in so many other diseases too. Besides they have to perform a lumbar test to be certain. " The tone was light but he could see something else in her eyes. Something sad.

Dean swallowed hard. He'd heard about those lumbar tests and he felt sorry for Sam at the same time he felt guilt over not seeing the symptoms earlier on. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he backed away not used to this kind of affection coming from strangers, especially not if they weren't hot babes and this made him feel uncomfortable. Hell this woman was old enough to be his mom.

She didn't back away. "How are you holding up?"

"Huh? Me?"

"Yes you." Mrs. Larkin studied him for a few seconds. "You know it's never easy when someone you love and care for Is sick. And you I can see is used to looking after others without tending to your own needs.

Dean frowned. What was she? A shrink? A psychic? This was getting creepy. "I'm okay. Fine. It's not me that we have to worry about. It's Sam who needs help." He breathed out, not even believing his own words. "I'll manage. I always do." End of conversation.

"Do you really?" It was more an observation than a question. The older woman looked doubtful at him, "You know there isn't much you can do right now. We have to wait for the ambulance and I'm sure everything will be just fine once Sam gets under medical care." When Dean didn't answer she went on, "There is no need for you to blame yourself for this. It's not your fault. You couldn't predict this; no one could."

"And?" Dean cut her off. This woman was starting to get on his nerves.

"I just want you to know that your brother is strong and that he'll be in safe hands."

"Yeah whatever." Remembering Mrs. Larkin hadn't answer his previous question he asked, "When I asked you earlier about your brother you didn't respond and now I'm asking you again; What happened to your little brother. Did he get well?"

There was a brief silence, as if it hurt too much to talk. "No," she said, sadness in her eyes more evident than before. "He died."