Hey guys! Wow, I am really catching it for being so mean to Sammy. Come on, it's not like it isn't expected. LOL I have the next chapter for you. Now, just to let you know, I do know what I'm talking about when I write about some of what Sam is going through. The summer before my senior year in highschool, I was diagnosed with encephalitis from an infected bug bite. I have never felt pain like that before, nor have I since. I have given birth, and as painful as that was, I knew it was only temporary and that I would have a wonderful gift at the end. With the headache I had that summer, I truly thought that I was going to die. At times I wanted to. Every movement made my head feel like it was literally splitting open. I was babysitting an eight month old baby that summer, and let me tell you, running after a baby when you are in that condition is not in the least bit fun. So, I hope I have conveyed that pain well enough in this chapter. So, here you go.
Cindy.
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Sam didn't know where he was, but he did know that he hurt. He hurt bad. His head felt like it would explode at any moment and he was pretty sure he would welcome it because anything would be better than this pain. He was, for the moment, thankful for the loss of his sight and hearing. He was pretty darned sure that any light that penetrated his eyes and any sound would push him right over the edge of insanity. The slightest movement sent shocking waves of agony through his head and the fact that it appeared as though he was in a moving car only added to the torture. His stomach roiled as the pain intensified and he swallowed hard against the sickness that was trying to make its way up his throat. If he was in Dean's car it would not be a good idea to soil it. He felt rather than heard the moan that escaped him and he thought he could feel a comforting touch to his cheek, but the pain was so overwhelming that it was the only thing his muddled mind could concentrate on. He felt so hot, like he was burning up from the inside and had a fleeting thought that he must really be sick.
Sam felt himself arch up from where he lay as the pain spiked and he knew now that he had felt a touch to his cheek because now something was wrapping around his body, pulling him in to a firm, warm surface. Something, a hand he absently thought, cupped the back of his head, a light touch playing over his cheekbone. Someone held him, he didn't know who, and he grabbed hold of whomever, anchoring himself so that he wouldn't be lost to the pain. Wave after horrifying wave of sheer agony washed over him, his head throbbing to the beat of his heart, his stomach churning like it never had before. He screamed out, silent to his ears, as the movement of the car he was sure he was in came to a sudden stop. He felt himself being lifted by several hands, and he felt some relief as cool air danced over his heated, sweaty skin. Suddenly, he felt what he thought must be grass tickling at his back where his tee shirt had ridden up, then he was turned to his side, just in time as it was as the sickness that had been threatening came spewing forth, his body wracked with painful spasms as the meager contents of his stomach were dispelled. Each heave brought more agony to his head, and Sam was pretty sure that he couldn't take much more. The spasms slowly stopped, leaving Sam breathless and gasping for air.
At this moment, all Sam could think about was the pain and that he just wanted it to stop. All of it. The pain in his head, the pain in his heart, the pain in his soul. He would take death over this pain. He had managed to push the pain of losing his sweet Alisa to the back of his head, his studies keeping his mind busy, but with the recent events, he had all the time in the world to think about what he had lost. He suddenly welcomed the pain in his head, because it gave him something else other than his grief to think about. He felt himself being gently pulled up against the same warm surface, one of his brothers he was sure, and felt fingers carding through his hair. It eased the pain, just a bit, but the small amount of relief was welcome. He felt darkness moving in around him and he embraced it with open arms. He allowed the darkness to overtake him as he sunk in to sweet oblivion, his body rocking softly back and forth with the one who held him.
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Daniel held Sam, his fingers softly brushing over his cheek. The moans and whimpers coming from his brother broke his heart as the helplessness he felt consumed him. How could he or anyone else help Sam? His father was certain no medicine would help, the illness ravaging Sam's body being of a demonic nature. He wasn't even sure if Sam could feel him, could tell that he was being comforted. He prayed that Sam knew, that the pain wasn't so bad that he couldn't feel the soft touches meant to ease his suffering. The kid was bathed in sweat, his clothes clinging to his thin body and Daniel cringed at the heat emanating from him. He looked up and saw Dean's worried eyes peering at him from the rear view mirror and he gave a slight shake of his head, unable to muster any more than that small gesture. Dean's eyes moved back ahead to the road before once more gazing at his brothers in the back seat, this time his sights on Sam.
Joshua was turned in his seat, watching the eldest and the youngest siblings, deep lines of concern and worry etched into his forehead. Sam moaned as his body literally writhed on the bench seat, Daniel's arms wrapped protectively around him. Suddenly, Sam arched up from the seat, an agonized scream tearing from his lips. His hands grabbed at Daniel's arms, his face paling to almost white. Dean cried out in surprise before yanking the Impala towards the edge of the road, slamming on the brakes to stop the car.
"He's gonna be sick I think!" Daniel yelled as he pulled Sam to his chest, his right hand cupping the back of brother's head, thumb gently caressing his cheek.
"Let's get him out. Maybe the fresh air will help!" Joshua cried as he wrenched his car door open, jumping from the vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop.
Dean was out in a heartbeat and both backdoors were pulled open, all three men getting firm, but gentle grips on the stricken member of their family. They eased Sam out of the car, Daniel continuing to cradle him in his arms as they made their way to the grassy edge of the road. The three men lowered Sam to the grass then turned him to his side. Sam immediately started to heave, the gutwrenching sounds of his vomiting tearing through the men as they sat helplessly, witnessing the horrible ordeal. Pathetic, painfilled cries filled the short spaces of time in between heaves and it was all the brothers could do to keep from sobbing themselves. They knew that this was happening because of something they had done. That Sam was suffering the consequences of a hunt that he hadn't even been a part of. They relaxed ever so slightly when Sam's heaving tapered off, but they could still see the lines of pain that crossed over Sam's sweaty brow. Daniel rocked Sam gently, the way he used to when Sam was a small child and not feeling well. Sam's body suddenly going limp scared the living hell right out of the brothers until Joshua confirmed that he had just passed out and was breathing fine.
"At least he isn't in pain anymore," Dean whispered, his eyes never leaving Sam's suddenly lax face. "At least, I hope he isn't."
Daniel nodded, unable to speak at the moment. He was pretty sure that if he attempted speech he would break out crying and wouldn't be able to stop. He looked up when he realized that the others had stopped and were now surrounding them. John came running from the opposite direction that Bobby and Caleb had come from, having had to backtrack to where they were. He dropped down beside Dean, his hand immediately reaching for Sam's hot hand.
"What the hell happened?" he questioned, a note of panic in his voice.
"He just got so much worse all of a sudden," Daniel explained. "My God, his scream…I'm gonna have nightmares."
"Is he okay? He's breathing and everything isn't he?" Caleb asked, his eyes filled with concern.
"Yeah…he's breathing. Hearts beating a bit fast, but under the circumstances, I'd say that's to be expected," Joshua answered. "I think he just finally passed out from the pain and fever."
"Shit…we better get him back in the car. We need to get him to the doc," Bobby said, moving closer to the huddled men.
"Yeah…not sure if he can do anything for him though," Dean said softly, his hand lying protectively on Sam's chest.
"Can't hurt. Besides, we're kind of sitting ducks out here," Joshua said as he began to get to his feet.
The men all helped Daniel get Sam up from the ground and soon both were settled once more in the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Joshua climbed in the front, and once the other men were in their vehicles, the caravan was once more on the road, the men even more determined to reach their destination, if for no other reason than to get Sam into a comfortable bed rather than the cramped backseat of Dean's car.
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The line of vehicles finally pulled up to the small clinic and house where Dr. Frank Jenks lived and the weary men exited their cars, moving immediately to the Impala to help with Sam. Although the trip had taken just four hours, it was the longest any of the men could remember. Their worry made the trip seem as if it took an eternity. A tall, older looking man with wavy white hair came out the door and strolled directly up to Bobby, his hand held out to the grizzled hunter.
"Bobby, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it. What took so long?" Frank queried of his friend.
"We had to stop a few times for Sam. He's not doing well at all, Frank," Bobby answered worriedly.
"Well, lets get the kid inside so I can take a look at him," the doctor replied.
Sam was carefully pulled from the car, his body still save for the shivers that ran through him. John cradled Sam in his arms and followed Dr. Jenks to the clinic, shifting the boy when he whimpered in discomfort. The other men followed John and watched as he gently laid Sam down on an examination table, their eyes falling on the doctor as he began his examination. Dr. Jenks looked up at the expectant faces and smiled softly.
"This is going to take awhile. Why don't you go get something to eat. I'll let you know once I'm finished," he said quietly.
"I'm not leaving my brother," Dean said as he moved up to the table that held Sam.
"Dean, the doc's right. I'll stay with Sammy while you go eat. You and Daniel," John said, his eyes moving to Daniel as he too moved toward the table.
"Dad…" Dean began.
"Just…go eat. When you're done, you can come back and then I'll eat. I'll be right here. Sammy won't be alone," John said.
Dean and Daniel didn't move for a moment, torn between staying with their brother and following their father's orders. Finally, knowing that Sam would be watched over, they reluctantly made their way to the attached house where the other hunters were headed, Dean sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he disappeared into the house. John watched his sons go then turned back to Sam. He helped Dr. Jenks remove Sam's tee shirt then stood back as the doctor began his exam, the doctors brows furrowing at the heat that rolled off the stricken young man. Dr. Jenks looked up at John, his eyes filled with concern.
"So, this is the work of a demon?" he asked, his fingers moving tenderly over Sam's arm.
"Yes. He's become the target of a man whose son had been turned by a werewolf. We killed the boy and now his father has summoned demons to curse Sammy," John answered.
"I'm not sure if medicine will help. First I need to determine exactly what is going on. From what Bobby told me on the phone, it sounds like encephalitis and after I do a blood test, I will know for sure. Just from what I can see, I'd say it is encephalitis. But…" the doctor explained, his voice trailing off nervously.
"But what?" John asked.
"If we can't treat the disease, it can progress to the point where it can be fatal. Bobby said that Sam was bitten yesterday by a mosquito and that this morning he was ill. That speed of progression is unheard of."
"What's going to happen to Sam if treatment doesn't work," John queried, his gaze falling to his son's face as the boy moaned softly.
"He already has the fever and headache, according to Bobby. Maybe you can fill me in on any other symptoms he may have?"
"Uh…vomiting…he's extremely tired and he's so weak. In fact, he has barely moved since the last time we stopped on the road."
Dr. Jenks nodded sadly as he moved around the table, examining his young patient. "Those are all signs of the disease. Unfortunately, the muscle weakness and lack of movement are signs of the more advanced form. We could see seizures and paralysis…"
"What!? Paralysis?" John cried, his face losing all color.
Dr. Jenks looked upon the distraught father with sadness and compassion. He couldn't imagine what the man was feeling, seeing his youngest son suffering so badly and by the looks of it, only worse suffering coming very soon. "I'm sorry, John. If we can't treat it, that is the path it will take before Sam succumbs…"
"Oh my God…" a voice sounded from across the room, pulling both men's attention to the door leading to the doctors house.
Dean and Daniel stood in the doorway, their eyes wide with fear. "Dad?" Daniel whispered brokenly.
"Dean…Danny, he'll be okay. We'll stop this before it gets that far," John promised, his heart breaking at the devastation he witnessed on his son's faces.
"How the hell can we stop it? We know who is doing this, but we have no idea where he is or how to stop him!" Dean spat as he moved quickly across the room to his brother's side.
"We'll find him, Dean."
"You don't know that, Dad! We didn't find Michael Wilcox until he nearly raped and killed Sammy. We didn't find Trenton Wilcox, but we let him get Sammy! We've failed Sam over and over! What makes you think it'll be any different this time?" Dean cried.
"Dean…stop it! Now! This isn't helping," Daniel warned.
Dean glared at Daniel before he physically deflated. He scrubbed his hand over his face then reached out to grasp Sam's hand. "Sorry…I…this is just so messed up," he whispered tiredly.
"I know, Dean. I promise, as soon as the doc has some answers Bobby, Caleb, Joshua and I will be out there looking for this bastard. We'll make him fix Sammy," John said.
"Okay, Dad. Okay…"
"Okay guys, I need to get some blood from Sam then I'll get an IV in him, get some fluids and medicine going. Hopefully, we can get the kid some relief," Dr. Jenks said.
The Winchesters watched as the doctor drew blood from Sam and then as he hooked him up to an IV line. The doctor took the vials of blood and placed them in a cooler before returning to Sam's side. He placed a thermometer in Sam's ear and waited for it to beep then looked at the readout. He frowned as he read the results.
"What is it, doc?" Dean queried.
"His temp is 103.8. That's getting close to dangerously high," Frank answered.
"Shit…can you do something?" John asked.
"I can add something to his IV. If that doesn't work, or if his temp goes higher, we'll need to ice him to try to get the temp down."
"Whatever you can do, Frank. Please…just help him," Daniel pled.
Frank nodded and walked to a cupboard, removing a vial of clear liquid. He came back to the table and inserted a needle into the vial, pulling back the plunger on the syringe, filling the tube with the fluid. He inserted the needle into the IV port and injected the fluid into the IV line.
"Let's get Sam into a more comfortable bed. We'll get him stripped down to his underwear to try to cool him as much as possible. Daniel, go to the kitchen and get a bowl and fill it with ice water. There are washcloths in the bathroom just down the hall. We need to get this temp down and I'm not certain the fever reducer will help," Frank instructed.
Daniel rushed from the room while John and Dean helped Dr. Jenks lift Sam from the examination table. They moved him to a curtained area where a hospital bed sat and placed him into the bed. John and Dean then worked on removing Sam's sleep pants, leaving the boy in just his boxers. Daniel returned with the water and washcloths and sat on the edge of the bed, immediately beginning to wipe a cloth over Sam's chest and arms. Dean took the other cloth and wiped it over Sam's face. John watched as his sons took care of their baby brother, his heart swelling with love and pride. Dr. Jenks had moved away and John turned to see what he was doing. Curious, he moved to the doctors side as the older man began to work with a vial of Sam's blood.
"What're you doing?" John asked.
"I'm preparing to test Sam's sample. I have a small lab right here. With the clientele I treat, I can't just be sending lab work to the hospital in town," Frank replied.
John nodded, watching as the man expertly prepared the blood for testing. He looked up as Bobby, Caleb and Joshua entered the room, their eyes moving over the room until they found the three brothers in the corner. John walked up to the three, his face solemn.
"How's the kid?" Caleb queried with a worried look.
"Not good. Frank says he could have seizures and even paralysis. He could die from this if treatment doesn't work. His temp is almost at 104," John answered, his gaze moving over his shoulder to where his sons continued to cool Sam down.
"Son of a bitch…" Bobby whispered.
"I know. We need to get out there and find this bastard," John seethed through clenched teeth.
"Well, let's hit it then. My guess is the asshole is probably near. Maybe we'll get lucky," Bobby stated, already heading for the door.
John nodded then moved over to where his sons were. He whispered to them and the two nodded before returning their attention back to Sam. John then let Frank know that he and the others were leaving and to call if anything happened. Frank agreed then went back to his work. John and the others left the clinic, all four uneasy about leaving the three youngest hunters on their own. They piled into Caleb's SUV and tore off down the road, intent on finding the man responsible for Sam's suffering.
Back at the clinic, Dean and Daniel continued their ministrations, cooling Sam's body as best as they could with the ice water and washcloths. Sam's murmurs and moans tore at the brother's heartstrings, but his lack of movement worried them even more. The conversation they had overheard between Frank and John weighed heavily on their minds, the thought of Sam being paralyzed terrifying them. They prayed that neither the seizures nor the paralysis would become reality, having already witnessed Sam having seizures. Neither one was ready to ever witness that again. They looked up as the doctor strode up to the bed, his hand resting comfortingly on Daniel's shoulder.
"I've got the test running. We should know in a little bit what we're dealing with, but I'm pretty sure it's a very serious case of encephalitis. Thankfully, Sam is pretty out of it. I'm sure he's still in pain, but he probably can't really comprehend what is happening. I'd like to do some painful stimuli tests, just to see if Sam still has feeling in his extremities," Frank said.
Dean and Daniel looked at each other then both nodded. Frank moved to Sam's feet then ran a blunt, letter opener looking instrument up the bottom of Sam's foot. Sam barely flinched at the pressure. Frank moved to the other foot and received the same results. He then moved to Sam's side and lifted his right hand. He took a metal instrument that resembled a toothpick and poked Sam's fingertips. Sam flinched slightly and both of his brothers heaved sighs of relief. Frank moved around the bed and repeated the process on Sam's left hand, the boy flinching again.
Frank smiled as he set Sam's hand back on the bed, patting the hand lightly. "Well, he does have feeling, but it seems to be reduced. I think for the most part, Sam is just totally exhausted from this illness. Also, other patients I have had with this disease say that the slightest movement causes them agonizing pain. His body is protecting itself as best as it can."
"How soon will we know if the medicine is working?" Daniel asked, resuming his task of cooling Sam's chest and arms.
"It'll be awhile. Hopefully the pain reliever will give him some comfort," Frank replied.
Dean was just about to speak when Sam cried out and his body arched up off of the bed, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him. He began to shake, a deep keening rumbling up from his throat. His body thrashed as his panicked brothers threw themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his upper and lower body to prevent him from hurting himself.
"Son of a bitch!! Help him, doc!" Dean screamed, his arms tight around Sam's hips.
Frank ran to the cupboard and returned a few moments later with a filled syringe. He stuck the needle directly into Sam's arm, just below where Daniel held him, and plunged the fluid into his bloodstream. Sam continued to convulse, his head slamming over and over into the pillow on the bed. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Sam's seizure began to taper off until he collapsed back to the bed, his body trembling, sweat pouring off of him in buckets.
Daniel leaned over Sam, resting his head on the boy's chest. He straightened then sat back on the edge of the bed. He took Sam's hand, the whimpers coming from his brother cutting deep into his soul. "Sammy…we're here. Please know that we're here," he said as he caressed Sam's palm with his thumb.
He reached up to cup Sam's cheek, smiling as the boy leaned into his touch. Dean moved up to Sam's side on the opposite side of the bed, his gaze meeting his older brothers.
"Son of a bitch. I was hoping never to see Sam like that again after last year. Shit, Danny…" he breathed out, his hand rubbing up and down Sam's arm.
Dr. Jenks moved beside Daniel, the eldest Winchester sibling moving slightly to allow the doctor room. The doctor placed his stethoscope on Sam's chest, listening intently. He moved the instrument around, his head cocking as he listened. Finally, he pulled the stethoscope away, pulling the earpieces out of his ears.
"Well, his heart is racing some, but after just suffering a seizure, that's to be expected. We need to get his temp down. I'm not sure if the seizure was from his fever or if it's from the infection. Encephalitis is an infection of the brain and if it becomes too serious, that's when seizures can occur. It's also what can cause the paralysis. I really hate to do this, but I think we need to ice Sam's body down," Frank said apologetically.
Dean and Daniel glanced nervously at each other then turned back to the doctor. "What do we need to do?" Dean asked.
"I think the best way would be to fill the tub with cool water, place Sam in, then dump some bags of ice in with him. It's not going to be very enjoyable for the kid, but we need to get that fever down," Frank replied.
Dean rushed from the room, intent on following the doctor's instructions. Dr. Jenks and Daniel got Sam sat up, then Daniel slid his arms around Sam's back and under his knees. He picked Sam up, maneuvering his head until it rested in the crook of his neck. He started across the room, surprised at how light Sam felt. The kid had lost significant weight since this whole nightmare had started. Daniel followed Frank to the bathroom, carrying Sam in when Dean moved aside. Dean helped Daniel lower Sam into the cool water, the young man crying out when his over heated body hit the water.
"Shhh…it's okay, Sammy," Daniel whispered, wishing that Sam could hear him.
"Okay, Dean, there's a freezer in the garage. There are a few bags of ice in there," Frank said, following the young hunter with his eyes as Dean rushed from the room.
Dean returned a few minutes later, the bags of ice in hand. He handed one bag to Frank then ripped the top of his bag open. He approached the tub, and dumped the ice into the water. Sam gasped as the ice touched him, but quieted when Daniel cupped the nape of his neck. Frank emptied his bag of ice into the tub then moved back from the edge.
"You boys keep an eye on him. I'm going to check on the blood test," Frank said.
Dean and Daniel nodded, their attention fully on their baby brother. Daniel found a cup on the sink edge and dipped it into the water, pouring cupful after cupful over Sam's chest, the boy whimpering as his body shivered uncontrollably. Dean carded his hand through Sam's wet hair, his fingers massaging gently into his scalp. He moved forward when Sam's eyes opened and flitted around the room. Dean kneeled on the floor, his hand moving to Sam's cheek. Sam's eyes found his face, and Dean could swear he could see there was something in those eyes. Not the vacant stare that had become the norm of late.
"Sammy, can you see me?" he asked, moving his mouth so that if Sam could see, he would be able to possibly read his lips.
Dean smiled brightly when Sam weakly nodded.
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Well? I just couldn't leave Sam blind any longer. I was causing great distress to some of my readers, so I decided to be nice for a change and give Sam a break. LOL I hope you liked that chapter and will let me know either way. Take care.
Cindy.