Chapter 9
"We need my car." said Dean. "It's got all our stuff in it."
"Let's go get it." suggested Sam. Dean just looked at him. "It's at the motel, Sam, where we were grabbed, remember? We can't go back there."
"We need the car Dean. It has the computer, our weapons, clothes and dad's journal. We have to figure out how to stop this thing," said Sam, beginning to sound more like himself.
Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're right." He took a deep breath. "Ok, let's go get it." They ran out to the car they had stolen and two hours later was back at the motel. The Impala was right where they'd left it and no one was around. They quickly ran to it, unlocked the doors, and climbed in, just as Victor came out of their old room.
"Hello boys," he said, as men surrounded them. "We figured you'd be back after your car." They pulled Sam out, as Dean closed his eyes against the panic that was trying to surface. "Get out of the car Dean," said Victor. Dean hit the steering wheel, and seeing where his brother was at, climbed out of the car, hands up. Victor slammed Dean up against the car, then made him turn around, and place his hands on the hood. He leaned down to his ear. "You just won't learn will you," he said cuffing his hands behind him. They pulled them both inside the motel room and shoved Dean down on the bed.
"Look," said Dean.
"Shut up!" said Victor and walked over to Sam. "How do you feel Sam?" Sam looked at his brother.
"Never better," he said sarcastically and recieved a slap hard enough to knock him down. Victor became the collector again and said, "Well let me see what I can do to fix that!" They pulled Sam back to his feet and Dean jumped up.
"No!" he yelled, but was knocked back down on the bed. "Sam!" The collector traced his hand down Sam's face to his throat. Sam closed his eyes. The collector placed his hands on the sides of Sam's head. Electricity shot through his brain and Sam screamed! "NO!!!" yelled Dean as he watched his brother in horror. Then the collector took a knife and sliced his throat, and drank! Sam gasped. Dean fought and when the collector had finished Sam just stared ahead, and was shoved down on the bed!
The collector turned to Dean and grinned. "You're brother is very tasty." he said.
"You son of a bitch, I'll kill you!" yelled Dean, never taking his eyes off Sam, who was still just staring off at nothing.
"Shall we take them Master?" asked one of the men.
"No, we'll keep them here. There's no one around and we have everything we need. Uncuff him and leave him with his brother, but guard the door. If Dean so much as looks outside the window, I want to know." He knealt down to Dean. "I'm going to take everything your brother has Dean. I'm going to take his energy, his soul, his very being, then I'm going to take yours."
The men uncuffed Dean and left him alone with Sam. Dean ran over to his brother and knealt down in front of him. Sam wasn't moving. His throat where he'd been cut was bleeding a little, so Dean took the first aid kit and cleaned it, stopping the flow.
"Sam," he said gently. "Talk to me, man." Sam looked at his brother. "Are you ok," asked Dean in fear. "Answer me Sam, please. Let me know you're still in there." Sam closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Dean's words, but all he heard was noise in his head. Dean raised his hand to touch him, but he pushed him away hard knocking him backward. He got back up and knealt in front of him again, but didn't try to touch him, or approach him. Not right now. He raised his hands, palms out.
"It's me Sam," said Dean. He tried real hard to keep the panic out of his voice. "That thing, that spirit is doing this to you, but I'm your brother. Can you hear me?" Sam cocked his head.
"Say something," said Dean. "Are you still with me?" Slowly, very slowly, Sam finally processed Dean's words and nodded his head, but didn't speak. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Sam was still there, but just barely. That was good enough for him, for now.
"Sam, I need to come over there and check you out, ok?" Sam nodded and Dean came over and sat down beside him. He felt his head. "Figures." he said as it burned his hand. "Your fevers back. Your burning up." Sam just stared at Dean.
"Come with me," said Dean, but he pulled back. "Sam, we need to get your fever down. This collector is making you sick. For some reason it's not doing to you what it's done to others. He's not turning you into a zombie, man, he's killing you. We have to get your fever down, now come with me." Dean took Sam by the arm but Sam shoved Dean away and got up. He spotted the knife that the men probably left there on purpose, just for this reason. He walked over and bent to pick it up. Then he turned to Dean who just looked at it and Sam.
"What are you doing," asked Dean tensing. He didn't know if Sam was going to try to kill him or himself, but he was definitely going to do one or the other. Dean could see it in his face.
"Put it down Sam," said Dean as he slowly approached him. The question was answered when Sam placed the blade to his wrist.
"No, Sam!" said Dean and grabbed it, just before Sam made the cut. He put the knife in his pocket and looked at his brother, whose eyes were glassy again. "Sam," said Dean and caught him as he fell unconscious. He gently laid him down and checked him for a pulse. When he found one, he carried him into the bathroom and ran a bathtub full of cold water. He stripped Sam down to his boxers and set him in the tub, hoping it would bring the fever on down. He sat on the floor by the tub and waited, checking Sam every now and then to see if it was working.
Victor, along with several of the men were in the office, while the others continued to guard Sam and Dean's door. "I don't understand sir," said one of the men. "When are we going to have some fun with Dean? So far, you're only attacking the younger one."
"Well, you're wrong there my friend. Sam is Dean's weakness, remember. The best way to hurt Dean is to hurt Sam."
"Yeah, but it's not nearly as fun." said another one of the men. "Are we taking them back to the warehouse?"
"No, we're going to leave them here for now. There's no one around and we have all we need. Michael has set up a nice little room full of goodies when we get ready for Dean. You won't be disappointed." said Victor and the men grinned.
"You'll get your chance with Dean, that's a promise, but only after he's beat down so much he can't fight back. The best way to get to Dean is to hurt Sam, but just wait, it won't be long, and you will be allowed to go after Dean." said Victor.
Sam moaned and opened his eyes. Dean got up on his knees. "Sam," he said, and felt his head. The fever was down. "Thank God!" he said.
"Dean," said Sam.
"I'm here," answered Dean.
"Where am I?" Sam was so confused. "I'm cold." Sam shivered. "We're back at the first motel, Sam, your're cold because you're in a tub of cold water."
"Why?" asked Sam not sure if he could move. His whole body hurt, like he'd been beat.
"You had a high fever. It was the only way I knew to bring it down."
"Is it down now?" he asked. Dean nodded.
"Can I get out then?" said Sam, I'm really cold.
"Oh, sorry." said Dean and helped Sam out of the tub. "Stay here," said Dean and went to get Sam some clothes.
"Thanks," said Sam and Dean began to treat his cuts again. Then he left him to get dressed. When Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean was sitting at the table, head in his hands.
Sam walked over and sat in the other chair, and took a good look at Dean. He looked awful. He was pale. He had dark circles under his eyes and he could tell he was just plain exhausted.
"Dean, what happened this time?" asked Sam waiting. Dean looked up. "We came back to get the car. Victor and his goons were here, so now we're prisoners again. The soul collector decided he wanted another meal, so he had a feast. Then you tried to slit your wrist, and you acted like you didn't know me again. You're fever was very high, so that's why you were in the tub, said Dean. Sam just stared.
"This thing don't wan't to turn you Sam, it want's to kill you. It wants to take your soul, and your mind, that's true, but ultimately if want's to kill you. I think it has something to do with your visions you have. It wan'ts to drain all your energy and leave you to die." Sam continued to stare at his brother, not even blinking, which scared Dean to death.
"Sam," he said and watched as his eyes glassed over again.
"I'm not believing this!" said Dean. He was about to touch Sam when he grabbed the table, and overturned it, knocking Dean backwards.
