Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester boys, the Impala, and their Uncle Bobby. Maybe someday…nah! Don't think so.
Betas : Thanks bia1007 and PsiChic for their awesome job. If there are still any mistakes, they're mine for playing with the fic after they'd edited it, he.


Chapter 9

Sam stared at the green puddle brimming in his cup and gave it a second thought. Green tea, no sugar, what could be worse than this? He looked up through his unruly bangs and gave the hovering man an idiotic smile. Kyle smiled back at him, and it was not one of those friendly smiles Kyle used to offer him years before. It was more of a demanding smile, a callous one. Sam relented, took a sip and winced.

Kyle snickered as he watched Sam urgently finishing the green tea in one gulp. He took the cup away from Sam's shaky hands, refilled it and handed it back to him. When Sam shot him a puzzled look, Kyle couldn't help but grin devilishly.

"You know Kyle…I don't remember asking for green tea just now."

"Until your temperature goes down, no caffeine for you, dude." Kyle wiggled his brows. "You know green tea's good for cooling down…you said so yourself." The grin just got bigger.

Sam's eyes widened at that reminder and he hated himself for lectures the on the goodness of green tea that he had given Kyle years back in Stanford. What surprised him though was the fact Kyle remembered it. Knowing he was not in privilege of getting any mercy, Sam repeated the whole process - stared, gave the drink a second thought, looked up to Kyle and offered him a bewildered smile, was replied with another callous one, relented, took a sip and again winced. Only this time, he didn't finish it in one gulp. Instead, he held the cup protectively in his hand and took a small sip every now and then.

Kyle snorted, knowing Sam had finally found a way to stop him from refilling his cup. "You're such a baby, Sam."

"And you're bossy." Sam rebuked, unwilling to forfeit. Both of them exchanged deathly glares and later retired with an amused snort.

Sam took another sip of green tea and glanced out the kitchen's window. It was getting dark and Dean's condition was yet to improve. If anything, he had gotten worse. It had been almost two hours since Dean's last spasm and since then he was comatose, giving no sign of recovering. Dean's fever went on and off unexpectedly. Sometimes his temperature spiked so high they need to bring it down by bathing him with cold water. When it suddenly plunged down, they covered him with layers of blankets to keep him warm. But all the time they worked on him, Dean wasn't even awake. He was either delirious or completely unconscious.

It was really devastating for Sam to see Dean getting worse and it hurt even more to see him fight death so furiously. Every time the pain struck, Sam almost thought it would be better for Dean to die than to keep on fighting this desperately. But the little Sammy in him just wasn't willing to let Dean go, not again. So along with excruciating pain attack, Sam would pray silently to God not to take his brother away from him – to give him more time so they could mend things up, fix the broken bond and be brothers again. He wanted to be Dean's little Sammy again.

"Glad to see you again, Sam." Kyle's voice pulled Sam back from his endless train of thought. He turned to Kyle and their eyes met. "Guess if things hadn't turned out this way, there would be a lot of catching up between us two."

Sam drew away from Kyle's gaze and his eyes fell on the cup again, staring at the green tea - lost in thought. A thin curl appeared on his lips. "Yeah"

The withdrawal told Kyle Sam was not in the mood for any small talk or recounts of their past and Kyle couldn't blame him for that. After what he'd been through – witnessing his brother's close death calls and again and again pulling him away from them – it was amazing Sam still had the will and strength to even breathe. Sam may have been weak from the fever, but still it took Kyle and Jack a lot of determination and patience to get him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen so he could get something to eat. It was Matt giving Sam the puppy eyes – that's what Kyle called it – that made Sam give in.

"You guys have so much in common." Sam said.

"What?" Kyle was taken aback, not expecting Sam to actually speak. "I would say Matt and I are not at all alike." Sam talking about him and Matt was the least he expected to happen in this situation.

"No…not Matt" Sam sighed before he continued "Dean and you." He felt a sob coming up when he mentioned his brother's name and Sam tried to cover it with a cough.

Kyle's breath caught. He never expected that.

"It's one of the reasons why I was so attached to you back then…you are so much like him." explained Sam.

Back in Stanford, Kyle was what held Sam together. Being apart from Dean didn't really give him the peace and quiet he'd been craving for when they were together. Instead, he thought about leaving everything and going right back to Dean and Dad every single day – especially to Dean. Sam considered himself blessed for meeting Kyle since he reminded Sam a lot of Dean. His attitude, his speech and his posture resembled Dean in every possible way. Even his sense of protectiveness was so Dean-like. So, Sam turned to Kyle for strength to move on and later came Jessica as his pillar and aid.

"And here I thought I was the one holding on to you." Kyle said with a smile. He on the other hand saw Matt in Sam and couldn't help being the big brother he had always been to Matt when he was with Sam. They hadn't realized that they were actually clinging to each other for comfort and familiarity during those years at Stanford.

"Like I was Dean to you, you were Matt to me back then."

Sam looked up to Kyle – a surprised look was clear on his features - and smiled a little. That's comforting, the fact that both of them were hypocrites trying to run away from their destinies. Odd enough, Sam thought Kyle was at Stanford for the same reason he was, except that Kyle accepted the destiny meant for him earlier than Sam did.

Not long after he moved out to live with Jess, Kyle disappeared from college, vanished into thin air as if there had never been a Kyle Callahan before. Sam was devastated at first but luckily he had Jess to make things better, then Dean came and he had no reason to cling to anyone else anymore. Even when he lost Jess in the fire, the loneliness didn't quite match the one he felt when he was apart from Dean. He guessed nobody could ever take Dean's place.

"We're such fools," Sam sniffed, much amused at his foolishness. "Trying to run away and everything…"

"Yeah, never been more stupid." Kyle couldn't agree more. He went to the stove, took a clean bowl, filled it with chicken broth and headed back to Sam who sat at the counter with his shoulders hunched and body covered with a blanket. He put the steaming bowl in front of Sam and demanded "Now eat." as he handed Sam a spoon.

Sam shot Kyle an assessing look and huffed in defeat. 'Too much Dean'. He took the spoon and claimed "You're bossy."

……………………………….

Matt suppressed a yawn and flexed his muscles, chasing the drowsiness away from engulfing him completely. He glanced at his old man who was slumped on the makeshift bed made out of nothing but a chair at one corner of the room. Jack's limbs were awkwardly sprawled and his head lolled to the back. Matt took off his jacket and carefully spread it over his father, hoping it would add some comfort and warmth to his much needed rest.

The gesture was so familiar to him. Jack falling asleep while taking care of a wounded son and Matt - being in charge of the last shift - spreading a cloth over his sleeping old man, were all too much of a Callahan habits. However, usually they were taking care of a wounded Kyle then but now a stranger took up Kyle's place and his dad acted much the same as if it was Kyle. Matt couldn't help but wonder why.

As he turned his gaze over to Dean, Matt bit his lips. What was it with big brothers? Why were they so prone to injuries? As long as he could remember, it was always Kyle who turned up with the most serious injuries after a hunt went south. Even if the hunt was just a simple salt and burn, Kyle always managed to injure himself in the most foolish way though. Concussion? Kyle had had so many Matt was surprised his brother's head was still intact. Rib cracks? Any radiologist would die from a heart attack if he'd ever take a look at Kyle's x-rays. He bet Kyle had so many cracks on his ribs they'd rather look like a wrecked car.

Now Dean – another big brother, hardheaded and a stubborn ass for sure he bet – was also prone to injuries. Matt was willing to bet all his life savings that there wasn't a single bone in Dean's body was free of cracks and no muscles that weren't torn. Come to think of it, Dean had so much in common with Kyle and maybe this was the reason Jack was so engrossed in taking care of the oldest Winchester. Matt even pictured Kyle in Dean's place when he watched the wounded man a little while ago.

Matt yawned again and he tried to stay awake by keeping himself busy. He went to Dean's bed and put an assessing palm on top of Dean's forehead, flinching a little at the scorching heat. Dean really was a strong man.; he had been sick for almost 48 hours now, down with a raging fever and erupting pain, running on an empty stomach and drained body fluid and still holding on. Any typical man in his place would just give up and die, too tired to fight. 'Guess Dean is not typical at all'. Matt took away the wet cloth – now completely dry - on Dean's head and was about to wet it again when he realized the basin was nearly empty.

Matt took the empty wash basin and looked at his dad, and then turned to Dean. Maybe it wouldn't hurt much if he left just for a minute or two to refill the basin and get something to drink so he wouldn't fall asleep while keeping watch. Dean was still dead to the world and after all Jack was there. His father was the most alert person he could think of and he would scram onto his feet in an instant if there was going to be any movement from Dean. He gave it a second thought and decided it was safe to go out for a minute or two. Matt went out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

It would take him less than a minute to know he had made the wrong decision.

……………………………………….

Hot! It was too hot!

Something's burning…no! Not something! It's someone…and it's him.

Dean opened his eyes with a start and looked around him with wary eyes. No Sam. Where's Sammy? Is he okay? Did the demons get him? Where's Sammy? And why was everything so damn hot? His head's burning, his eyes were like balls of fire, his tongue dry, skin parched, and his inside baking. Dean tossed and turned trying to shake off the heat. He failed terribly as the movement only intensified the pain residing at the back of his skull.

Where's Sam? Where is he anyway?

Why is he alone? Where's everyone?

Dean pushed himself up and rolled away from the bed, staggering to stand up. 'Gotta find Sam'. He stepped away from the bed, felt something tugging at his hand and fiercely shook it off. There was a piercing pain running up his arm but he ignored it and started shuffling across the room. Though weak, Dean's gait was as vigilant as the true hunter he was. His vision was hazy but nothing would stop him from finding Sam. His head pounded heavily but no suffering was worse than losing Sam to the hands of evil.

'Find Sam…gotta look for him…find Sammy' Dean chanted mentally. He stopped at the doorframe, panting, and moved on towards the cabin's front door, out into the cold dark night wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.

'Sammy'

………………………………………

Jack awoke with a jolt from a long lost memory which had turned into a nightmare. He blinked a few times and when he'd regained control of himself, Jack sighed tiredly. He brought a palm to his face and rubbed it tightly. "Matt?" He thought he just saw Matt walk across the room towards the door.

He got no response. Suddenly Jack's heart skipped a beat and he turned to the bed, gasping when he found it empty. Dean was gone. The IV line dangled limply by the bedside and there were traces of blood on the floor leading to the entrance. Jack sprang to his feet and bolted to the door, finding no one and nothing in the deserted hallway.

Matt was coming out of the bathroom holding a washbasin and there was a puzzled look on his face. "Dad?" he called out, concerned.

"Dean!!!" Jack didn't answer but dashed towards the readily opened front door instead.

The racket caused Kyle and Sam to come up running from the kitchen. They watched, mouths agape, as Jack ran out of the cabin into the night, hollering Dean's name. Realization hit and the boys left everything behind and followed Jack to the cabin's porch.

Jack squinted his eyes, scanned the dark area surrounding their cabin and saw Dean at the deck by the lake, going straight forward and looking dazed. "Damn!" he cussed before sprinting towards the dock. "Dean! Stop son!" he hollered, hoping Dean was clear-headed enough to actually understand him.

"Dean!!" Sam called out loud though his lungs didn't agree with him. He abandoned the blanket and sprinted towards the lake, towards his brother. "Dean!!!" he called out again, desperately hoping Dean could hear him. Now everything seemed to move in slow motion again.

A car came into the yard, the headlights shining brightly against the intimidating darkness. Sam couldn't care less. He had to get to Dean but he was moving too slow. His limbs ached, his head throbbed and before he knew it, his legs gave way and his knees buckled under him. 'No, no!' Sam cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. Just as he was about to hit the ground, a strong arm grabbed his biceps and pulled him up again. Sam looked up and found Kyle hovering over him; his face firm and determined.

"Let's go Sam!" he urged and Sam found his strength in that voice. Too much Dean. Sam started running again, now assisted by Kyle and just after a couple of strolls, Sam was running on his own again.

They were just about to reach the dock when they heard a splashing sound. Sam stopped dead in his tracks and gasped. "Oh no! No!!" he cried and scrambled to the dock just as Jack jumped into the water. Dean was nowhere to be found. "No!!" Sam hollered with all his might. His blood rushed violently to his head and his heart thumped viciously in his ribcage. He felt like he was ripped apart from the inside.

Sam was just about to jump into the water when someone grabbed him from his back and dragged him aside. "No! Let me go!" he struggled fiercely. His fist came flailing in the air and made contact with a jaw.

"No Sam! We can't lose you too!" Kyle's grip was like iron. No matter how hard Sam twisted and turned to free himself, he failed. 'Lose you too? What do you mean? Who's lost?' "Matt! Cm'here!" he heard Kyle shout for Matt and within seconds Sam was in another person's embrace, but still the grasp was iron-like.

"Deann…!" Sam cried as he watched Kyle dive into the water. 'Please, Dean needs me'. Sam coughed violently as his lungs betrayed him badly. He panted and gasped for air. He fell on his knees and started a coughing fit. "Dean" he called desperately for Dean in between the hacking.

Suddenly a figure lurched beside him and went right into the water with a loud splash. Sam startled. The iron grip was still holding him, never letting go. Then, who was it?

……………………………

Bobby's car trudged through the woods in eerie silence for ten minutes before he finally reached a cabin by the lake. The cabin was situated at the precise coordinates given by Jack and Bobby couldn't be more certain than this that he had reached the Callahan's residence, had finally reached his boys.

He was still a minute away from the yard when he saw a figure walking away from the porch into the dark heading towards the deck. Being the only living person knowing the brothers this well, Bobby immediately recognized the staggering figure as Dean. He heaved a sigh of relief. Dean was okay after all to be able to walk like that. There was no way Jack would trust him to walk outside alone in the dark if he was so sick and dying. But wait…why was Dean wearing nothing but his jeans? He should have known better not to wander in the winter night half naked.

Bobby's breath caught. His old hunter instinct told him what he just saw wasn't something good. He smelled trouble. Just as his car reached the yard, he saw an older man running towards Dean – who now stood on the deck by the lake – followed by a much younger one, Sam, and two other ones. On his way to Dean, Sam fell down and was brought up to his feet by a young man not much older than the youngest Winchester himself. Together, they ran towards the dock and arrived a little too late since Dean had already jumped into the lake. Bobby didn't care to switch off the ignition as he opened the door and sprinted his way towards the dock, moving as fast as the younger hunter he used to be decades ago.

Before he even realized it, Bobby had dived into the lake and started looking for Dean.

……………………………………

Heads bobbed up and down on the surface of the lake but neither belonged to Dean. It was either Kyle's or Jack's or Bobby's but not Dean's. Then the heads disappeared into the water again and surfaced after a minute or two, still no Dean.

"God! God please!!" Sam pled. It was taking too long. The water was freezing cold, and Dean was too sick and too weak to swim. "God! Don't take him please!" he cried loudly; looking up as if searching for the highest power.

"Dean!!!" Sam hoped his call would reach Dean somewhere and be able to pull him back to the surface.

………………………….

Jack moved his limbs, floating aimlessly in the water. He looked around, found Bobby and Kyle but no Dean. He dived again, this time praying silently for God to bring his Deannie back to him, to bring Sammy's Dean back to the world. He prayed that God would not take Dean away, not now, not like this.

He dived lower than he did the first two times before. The pressure was oppressive and his lungs ached for oxygen. His muscles throbbed painfully from the coldness of the water but those were not enough to stop his urge to get Dean back. Jack dived lower and hoped. He looked around in the dark water, saw nothing. His heart began to freeze and his lungs starved for air. Just as he was about to resurface, his feet touched something and he felt a slight movement that made him know immediately he had found what he was looking for.

Jack swam his way down and caught an arm. He tugged at it and pulled it up. Dean emerged from under him and Jack didn't wait any longer to grab the boy's limp body. He pulled Dean as he appeared at the surface and gasped. Kyle and Bobby went to his aid in an instant. Together they headed to the banks, dragging Dean out.

Bobby sprang up to his feet and lifted Dean into a cradle. He might be old, but he was strong enough to carry his boy to safety. Up ahead came Sam and Matt, sprinting towards them and behind him Jack and Kyle were just up on their feet. Bobby carried Dean and laid him on the forest floor, away from the water. Somehow, water and lake were not a good combination but a deadly one instead. Sam reached them as soon as Dean was put on the ground.

Bobby did a round up and the result frightened him to death. Dean's skin was too cold for his liking. His body was limp and paralyzed. But the greatest horror was that there was no heartbeat in Dean's chest. Dean wasn't breathing!

"Shit!" Bobby cussed and found Sam looking at him questioningly, almost hopefully. "Come on Dean!" Bobby didn't hesitate a bit when he started giving Dean rescue breathing followed by a chest compression. Bobby repeated the process, he breathed for Dean, and then started on the chest compressions, and back to breathing for him, but Dean still wasn't breathing. "Dean! Don't do this son!" he shouted as he began another round of chest compression.

Sam, who crouched at Dean's side, had started chanting Dean's name and it annoyed Bobby so much. To hear Sam crying added to the pressure and was just as hurtful as losing Dean. He had to bring the boy back, needed to. He had had enough of holding Dean's lifeless body the last time that boy was dead. He had had enough of losing Sam who died in a way the night Dean died. Bobby was not in favor of facing such suffering again.

"Dean!" Bobby hollered for the umpteenth times as he pounded on Dean's chest. Still, the boy was unresponsive under his palms, showing no sign of breathing. Dean's face was blue and lifeless. "Deann…" he called, softly this time – weak and submissive.

Jack, Kyle and Matt watched silently as Bobby broke into tears and Sam screamed Dean's name so loudly into the night.

Sam looked up to Bobby who had stopped doing the CPR, unbelieving and angry. "Bobby! Don't stop!" he cried as he pulled Bobby's collar. "Don't!" Sam was desperate. Tears brimmed in his eyes and his breathing hitched. His face was hot from fear, anger and resistance. His limbs were numb and cold.

Bobby sat limply at Dean's side and Sam shook his head in resistance. "No! No! I won't let him die!" he cried as he started pounding on Dean's chest. He pumped and pumped and pumped until his hands hurt, until he could hear Dean's rib snap under his palms. But Sam was not going to stop. He was not going to lose his brother tonight, not again.

"Dean!!!!" Sam cried loudly and his voice pierced through the silent night, rending the hearts of every living thing residing in it.

"Dean!!"

TBC


a/n: Shall I warn you that I'm not going to continue this fic until I get reviews? LOL. Guess not. I'm never going to stop. I enjoyed writing this story as much as you enjoyed reading it. But kind and heartwarming reviews are what most writers crave for. Anyway, hope you like this chapter here and thanks for sticking to this story till now and thanks a whole bunch for those who reviewed so kindly. Love ya' all. And I was thinking of writing AU series on the Callahans and our boys. But I'm not sure whether I should be doing it, so I posted a poll. Please take a look at it on my profile and vote. Thanks!