Carrie wiped her hands on a towel and set the bowl of soup aside, looking up at her grandmother who stood staring down at the man in the bed who was besting them at every turn. Her grandmother had never been unable to nurse a human through an illness. This one was proving both stubborn and resilient. Grams had tried just about everything she knew and while she wasn't ready to yet admit defeat, she was beginning to worry that for the first time in her life, she may not be enough. They'd given him the last of the antibiotics the doctor had prescribed for Dean and all she had left was Tylenol and soon, she'd be out of that.

She'd have taken him straight to the nearest ER but to try to move him while still locked into the anklet could kill him or maim him for life. Grams blamed herself for this, the situation, his failing health, his brother's frustration and feeling of helplessness. She and she alone had been duped by the girl she'd known as a toddler. By the girl she had watched grow up alongside her granddaughters as their best friend. When had Charlotte turned into an obsessive, sadistic girl bent on getting her own way?

"He won't eat anything." Carrie said despondently. "Won't even open his mouth." she picked up a cloth, wet it with cool water and used it to gently dab the sweat from Sam's face and neck. "Took some water earlier for Dean, but not a lot, not…enough. Do you think Bobby will get back in time?"

"Hope so." Grams said absently, mind already working on her next plan of action. Sam's earlier stroll to the two-mile barrier had proved Lottie hadn't failed to work the charmed lock properly. Gram's would have to break the charm and to do that, she needed all the ingredients she had sent Bobby and Kelly in search of. She knew all about the lock and the charm that kept it locked. She'd taught Charlotte everything the girl knew.

All the anklet would do should he try to leave the two-mile circle was zap him with a force that would render him temporarily paralyzed. Temporary being at least a week; the vibration and humming when he had neared the end of the safe zone had told her what spell Lottie had used. The silly girl hadn't wanted to kill him or seriously injure him, just prevent him from coming after Dean.

It was a harmless spell that would eventually wear off but with Sam being as weak as he was, she wasn't at all certain temporary paralysis was all he would suffer; it was chance she wouldn't take. She was convinced Sam's illness had nothing to do with Lottie or any spell, that it was natural and current medical attention would doubtless aid him better than she could, she just needed to keep him alive until she could make it safe for him to get the help he needed.

"You'd best go child." Grams said. "Dean doesn't want you in here with Sam." she took Carrie's vacated seat and picked up the bowl of soup. Maybe Sam would trust an old woman over the girl who had sprayed his brother in the face with pepper spray. She stirred the soup, it was still warm and she inhaled the wonderful aroma. If he wouldn't eat it, she would, Clam Chowder was her favorite. She wiped the bottom of the spoon on the edge of the bowl and held it to Sam's mouth. "Come on kiddo."

Sam felt the spoon nudging against his lips and knew someone wanted him to eat. He wrinkled his nose at the smell yet parted his teeth and licked at the pro-offered spoon. He heard the voices, knew they were female and the lack of a masculine one meant no one would be able to force him to swallow.

"See!" Carrie exclaimed as he made a face and spit the soup out. "That's all he does! It's like he can't swallow!"

"He doesn't like it." Grams smiled, wiping the soup from his chin. "Okay, ok….kiddo…I get it… I do…." she ate the soup before it could grow cold then set the bowl aside and got up to go in search of Dean. "Dean?" Grams came out onto the porch behind him. "What does he like to eat?"

"What?" he was sitting outside on the porch step and didn't even bother to turn around when Grams came out. He was whittling a stick to the shape of a crude car. He remained distant and quiet, becoming even more so when Sam had gone down with a fever.

"Sam, I need him to eat and he doesn't appear to like Clam Chowder….."

"Oh." he was quiet. "No, he's not fond of fish or seafood. We grew up in the mid-west, not a lot of opportunities to try seafood, you know?"

"Our choices are somewhat limited. I can send Carrie into town, what will he eat?"

"Does it matter?" Dean asked wearily. "I don't plan on staying here, soon as Bobby returns and you pop that lock, we're leaving."

"I don't have a problem with it, but we have to keep him comfortable until Bobby gets back."

"Whether he eats soup or not isn't going to matter." Dean turned around to face her. "All he needs is to drink."

"It does matter." she corrected gently. "He can't grow any weaker and Bobby might be another day or two. Those last two ingredients aren't proving as easy to obtain as I thought. Sam is safe here from Charlotte but not from a natural illness."

"Tomato soup then."

"I have some. I'm still sending Carrie into town, I'll be out of Tylenol by morning. Do you need anything?"

"I'll go." he stuck the knife into the wood plank next to his hip and stood up. "She's not driving my car…" he frowned as she shook her head. "What?"

"You can't leave here Dean, not until I can bind whatever powers Charlotte has learned to use. You are as protected here with me as your brother is." and she wasn't going after Charlotte until Sam was out of any and all danger, be it from Lottie, the anklet or the fever.

"She won't…..well ok, but…I'll chance it…."

"I can't let you do that, besides Sam seems to be more content when he knows you're near, I'll send Carrie."

"Sam won't care where I am." Dean shrugged. "As you said, he's safe with you…"

"He'll care if he wakes up and asks where you are and I tell him you went off alone. Even if he weren't currently sick in bed with a high fever, he can't go after you Dean, not until I get that anklet off."

"I know she means something to you, but I lay eyes on her, I'm likely to shoot her."

"Another reason you are staying here, I don't want you in that situation." Grams said. "What can Carrie get for you from town?"

***000***

Bobby called later that night; they were on their way back, would be there by morning with a refill of Dean's antibiotics and both missing ingredients for the spell needed to break the lock. All they had to do was get Sam through the night and by morning; they could take him to the hospital and get him the help he needed. Though Dean agreed he wouldn't deny Sam medical attention, he made it clear he wasn't at all happy with the idea of having Sam admitted to a hospital.

"Grams?" Carrie paused in the doorway. Dean had left the cabin, but he hadn't gone far and there was no way she was going to risk raising his wrath a second time. Dean had been ok with her being with his brother until Sam had become restless and vocal about her presence. Since then, she'd been ordered not to go anywhere near him and when Dean had found her sitting on Sam's bed, she'd found herself up against the wall with two hands around her throat. Grams had been able to call Dean off but the moment had been fraught with tension.

"What dearie? You really should stay in the other room." Grams sat in a chair next to the bed, wet cloth in her hand.

"How is he?" she shifted her weight to her opposite foot. "Dean's outside."

"Not good. If we could get his fever to break, I'd feel a lot better." she cast Sam a dubious look. "Enter child, no harm will come if you come stand next to me."

"You've never not been able to break a fever before. Why is his different?"

"I wish I knew Carrie. I've tried everything I know to do. Tea, every herbal remedy I've ever heard of, bathing him with cool water, medication…I get it down but can't keep it down…..the antibiotics were helping but….maybe a cold bath would help but there is no tub here and we…"

"Okay, so…I mean, well…but….." she'd heard her grandmother and Dean discussing Sam's condition. She glanced at Sam, she was used to him issuing threats and portraying violence and to see him so listless and helpless unnerved her.

"If you have a suggestion, don't be shy." Grams reached out to give the girl's hand a comforting squeeze. She was wise and knowledgeable but she was always willing to listen to suggestions and ideas. It was how she raised her own daughter and it was how she was seeing her granddaughters raised. "Speak up child."

"It's just….if we can't bring the water to him, can't we take him to the water?"

Grams looked confused for a moment then her face cleared and she clapped her hands as a huge smile spread across her face. She rose to her feet and grabbed Carrie to place a kiss on either cheek.

"You are my smart girl." she pushed the girl aside and went charging through the cabin, calling for Dean as she went. Carrie looked down at Sam, who chose that moment to stir, eyes opening as he muttered words she couldn't make out.

"Ssh." she soothed, standing next to the bed. She didn't try to touch him, he didn't tolerant her grandmothers touch unless Dean was with him. "You're okay Sam, just relax…it's ok…." he didn't seem to mind her voice and as long as she kept talking he laid still, stopped trying to sit up and fell silent, so she took her grandmothers chair and began to tell Sam about the going-ons on her soap opera. It didn't seem to matter what she talked about, it only mattered that he heard her voice. The worst that could happen to her should Dean discover her next to his brother's bed was suffering the indignity of being bodily removed from the room and carried outside to be deposited on her ass in the mud.

"Dean? Dean? There you are. Can you carry him?"

"Guess." he shrugged. "If I hafta, would rather not…..why?"

"Then Carrie and I will help you, we need to take him down to the stream."

"Where?"

"Just…come on…."

Dean didn't question her nor did he voice his doubts. He silently lugged his brother out of bed, through the cabin, across the yard and down to the stream bank. He grudgingly allowed the two women to help him carry Sam by each holding a leg but he wasn't happy about it and anyone looking at his face knew that. He could have carried his brother by himself but didn't feel Sam would benefit from being slung upside down over his shoulder, especially since there was no need for him to have to do so.

"Get in." Grams ordered when Dean stopped at the edge of the water.

"Do what?" he raised his knee to boost Sam higher up his chest to keep a good grip. He began to understand what Grams wanted and he took several deep breaths to try to quell his rising panic. No, no, just…no. This couldn't be happening, he would do anything for Sam, face every fear and dislike and annoyance to ensure his brother was happy and safe. But this? He could force himself in, had before, would again but that didn't mean he had to like it and he felt he had earned the right to be pissy about it.

"Can't you swim?" Grams asked gently. "Ok, no matter, Carrie….."

"No!" Dean bit out. No way he was letting that bitch sit in the water and hold Sam while they waited for the cold, running water to do what they couldn't, break Sam's fever. If that's what it took, if Grams thought there was even a slight chance it would work, he would set aside his irrational dislike of being wet and stay in the stream as long as needed, but boy, once Sam was on his feet, Dean was going to deliver a well-placed punch and knock him the hell out. "No, I can swim, it's just…..I hate being wet, you know?" he clenched his teeth and forced himself to wade into the stream. He wasn't scared of water, had no fear of being in it, but had he a choice; he would stay far away from it, especially if it were cold water. He didn't mind hot showers, would even take a hot bath to ease aching muscles and swollen joints but he no longer voluntarily went swimming.

"Over there." Grams pointed. "You'll have to hold him, are you ok with that? I don't want him trying to get out or thrash about in delirium. He could easily slip and fall and hit his head. There's no danger of him being swept away, but he could drown if….."

"I've got him." Dean closed his eyes, bit his lip, uttered a prayer to….well a prayer anyway and lowered both himself and Sam into the cold water. The women dropped Sam's legs and Grams helped Dean get as comfortable as he could get while sitting on rocks, in a cold stream with his brother held between his legs and his head resting comfortably against Dean's belly. The things he willingly did for this kid, geesch.

"Carrie will sit with you for a while." Grams said. "Help you stay awake. I'll relieve her in two hours."

"Two hours?" Dean's head came up. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"No, I'll bring hot coffee in an hour or. I doubt his fever will break before morning, if at all. Dean, can you do this? If you need…"

"No, I'm good." he didn't sound at all convincing and he knew it. Grams was looking at him oddly and he was pretty sure he hadn't fooled her with his insistence that he was fine. She lingered, trying to decide if she should push him, but the set look of determination on his face must have convinced her to leave well enough alone because she finally nodded and headed back to the house.

"God Sam." he lowered his head, cheek bumping against sweat-dampened hair. Since no one was around to see him and the only person alive who would have the balls to tease him about it currently lay insensible in his arms, Dean let his head rest where it had fallen and took comfort in the fact Sam was alive and with him. He'd forgotten about Carrie but she said nothing, just sat cross-legged on the bank and stared up at the sky.

"Do you know any of the constellations?" she asked after a while. "Help me find the Big Dipper, though technically, it's not a constellation, or Orion's Belt, they're usually the easiest to find."

Dean wanted to growl at her, scare her into silence but he realized she was trying to distract and amuse him, so what could it hurt to get his mind off the cold water and Sam's precarious health? Might as well play nice, he could always throw her into the water and hoped she drowned later, when he was warm and dry and Sam sleeping a natural sleep.

***000***

Sam stirred, trying to ease off his butt because it was numb and it hurt. He frowned, that didn't make sense, numb and painful at the same time? He raised a hand, wanting to feel his forehead but an odd resistance prevented him from doing so. He could move his hand and his arm but there was a force that tugged it away from his body where he wanted it to remain. He was cold, and his whole body felt heavy, odd, like he had no control over the force that constantly tried to tear him apart. He frowned, beginning to feel trapped. He tried to remain calm as he attempted to become familiar with his situation. He didn't immediately place the sounds he could clearly hear nor could he identify by sight what he was seeing.

Water. He could definitely hear running water, babbling like a creek out in the middle of the woods, but that couldn't be right, could it? The last he remembered, he'd been coaxing Dean out of the car and into the cabin for the night. Dean! Shit, where the hell was Dean? He wouldn't willingly be anywhere near a creek so why was Sam? His instinct for survival stepped up to take control and he went rigid as he fought to bring his thoughts coherent.

As the fog cleared from his mind, he became aware the surface he was laying on was hard, unyielding and uneven. It wasn't at all comfortable, he was being poked in his elbow, his hip and his head, well that was cradled against something a hell of a lot softer than what was poking him in his lower back. Must be the mud on the bank because if he knew nothing else, he knew he was definitely lying in a creek. What the hell was he doing in a creek and how the fuck did he get there? How long had he been there? Was anyone missing him, were they looking for him?

"Sammy?" a recognizable grunt and it intruded on his thoughts and his mind abruptly changed paths, no longer focused on his situation. Because, he knew that voice and knew he wasn't in the water alone.

Sam stopped moving, stopped trying to gain purchase and sit up on the slippery rocks. He knew only one person called him Sammy, yet, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He tilted his head back, expecting to taste mud but there was no bank, only a wall of wet denim and a chin that wasn't quite holding steady.

"Sam? You awake?"

"Dean?" he raised one hand out of the water. "I'm, ugh….mumph." words hadn't quite yet managed to form around his tongue. "M…nawl….et."

"What? Oh, you're all wet, yeah, I know." Dean reached for his hand. "Hey."

"Why…am I all wet? Am I in a creek?" with Dean's voice to guide him, he was finding it easier to focus and become clear-headed. "Shit."

"Um, well, yeah, yeah you are."

"Oh." he tried to remember how he'd gotten there, but nope, nothing. "Did, I, aah, pull a you? Flip out and run away?" definitively becoming much easier to talk.

"No." Dean started to sit up, but cramped muscles convinced him to sit tight a bit longer.

"K, so….." he moved his legs, raising his knees so his feet could brace his legs against the creek bed. "Lottie find us?"

"No." his lower back screaming in protest, Dean forced himself to release his grip on Sam when the younger man whimpered and twisted against him. Drowning him now that his fever had broken probably wasn't the best way to help speed his recovery. He would need to recover his strength in record time. Three days of not eating and only managing to swallow sips of water; weakened lungs from being forcefully submerged and restrained under water would not be conducive to a speedy recovery.

"You've been on your ass with a fever over a 104 for three days Sam." Dean managed to loosen his jaw and forced his tongue to work. "Didn't respond to Tylenol or sponge baths with cold water…"

"God!" Sam groaned in mortification. "Please, not you!" he begged. It was bad enough to discover his current place of rest, worse to know he'd forced Dean in the water with him but it would be positively unacceptable for Dean to have taken care of him."

"No." Dean assured him. "Grams had the pleasure of nursing you."

"Who?"

"Look, can we play twenty questions in the house? I ain't exactly comfortable here."

"Oh." Sam jumped, guilt flooding warmth through him despite the cold water. He wore a t-shirt and underwear and the goose bumps all over his body were the size of dimes. He managed to sit up only because Dean sat up with him and gave him support. He didn't have either the strength or coordination to pull away from his brother's hold.

"Give it a minute." Dean's voice was in his ear. Sam flinched, reaching with his hand for Dean's knee, needing the contact to calm his frayed nerves. It scared him to realize how weak he was. "It's ok….you've been down a couple of days, is all. Sit for a bit." he let go of Sam and once Sam let go of his leg, stood up and tried to stretch his muscles and ease the kinks out of his cold, aching joints.

"Dean?' Carrie came running down the hill. Dean reached his hands over his head as high as his arms would go, squatted several times, then lowered himself behind his brother, grabbed him under the arm pits, pushed up with his cramped thigh muscles and stood up, his knotted shoulders hauling Sam up with him. Carrie ran right into the water, splashing her way to Sam's left side and popping herself under his arm.

"Can he make it?" she asked, feeling him shake against her. "How are you? You ok?"

"To the bank at least." Dean muttered. He wasn't so sure Sam would be able to walk back to the house and if Dean had to carry him, he would have to accept help. He'd yet to regain his coordination after spending three hours in the cold water and there was no way his legs would support Sam's added weight, they were barely supporting his own. He and Carrie managed to help Sam crawl up the muddy bank on his hands and knees and let him collapse on the wet grass. Dean went down with him, might as well take the opportunity to regain his own breath.

"I'll go get Grams." Carrie announced and took off at a run before Dean could protest.

"Them?" Sam coughed, rolling onto his back and letting his arms flop, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to prod returning circulation along.

"You didn't give me much choice." he couldn't help himself, a hand inched towards Sam and when he didn't slap it away, rested his fingers on his brothers elbow. "You told me about their grandmother, said she might be able to help, yelled at me out by the shed and bam, you were down."

"Don't remember." his voice had weakened and Dean knew from experience Sam would soon give in and allow his body to succumb to the lure of darkness. He wasn't worried, the fever had broken and now Sam needed to sleep. "Bobby?"

"In town."

Sam pushed his palms into the grass and forced himself up, settling for reclining on his elbows. "Wait, so…..you…..alone?" he let his eyes close. He couldn't recall why, but he knew, he just knew, he'd been the one looking out for the both of them, before…well, before waking up in a creek. What the hell had happened? He frowned, trying to force the scattered images shooting through his mind into one cohesive thought and failing. He simply wasn't strong enough to fight nature's elements and his body's weakened state so with a whimper, he went limp in the wet grass.

"Lucky me." Dean heaved a sigh and climbed to his feet. "I'm so tired of hauling your ass about, course, you hauled mine over your shoulder for a couple of miles, so guess I shouldn't complain."

Grams and Carrie were there and helped Dean carry him back to the cabin where Dean helped Grams settle Sam in bed. Once Grams was satisfied that his brother was dry, dressed, and warm and sleeping peacefully, tucked snuggly into bed, she made it her mission to tackle Dean.

Leaving Carrie to sit with Sam, Grams hustled him off to the kitchen where pots of water had been boiled so he could wash up with hot water and dress in warm clothes. Grams bullied him into eating hot soup, added some warm brandy to his coffee and ordered him to bed on the sofa. Grams and Carrie would have the honor of keeping vigil over Sam, if she needed him, Dean was only a wall away.