Chapter 10

Bobby drove as quickly as he dared, mindful of Dean's injuries, trying not to jolt the young hunter around. Dean himself lay in the back of the Impala, his head in Sam's lap, raised up in an attempt to help ease Dean's breathing. His eyes were closed and he made no sound, other than the rasping, whistle of each shallow breath he took. Bobby glanced at Sam through the driver's mirror. The boy had that distant look in his eyes that Bobby had become so familiar with during the time the two boys had been staying at his place. Bobby cleared his throat, dragging Sam back from whatever thoughts he was having.

"So...er...I'm thinkin' I saw someone else inside that factory with you, you know? When you were facing off against that oversized lizard...?"

Sam briefly met Bobby's eyes in the mirror, before lowering his head and focusing on Dean's face. Bobby waited, not wanting to push Sam too hard. Eventually Sam's hushed voice answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, there was someone. I asked for their help, and they came. No way I could've taken that thing down on my own, I had no other choice."

Bobby tread carefully, his eyes on the road, his tone neutral.

"I can accept that. So, who was it helped us out back there?"

There was another silent pause before Sam answered.

"Ruby."

There was only the very slightest weave in the Impala's direction in reaction to the news, but Sam didn'tmiss how Bobby's eyebrows arched at the revelation.

"Ruby? That dark haired demon girl? She was who you called?"

Sam's tone became slightly defensive.

"Yeah. Seems I was right to do it too. We only survived 'cos of her, She was happy to help us out. She's not like the others Bobby, really."

"So, I briefly saw the power she was throwin' at that thing, what was your part?"

"Not very much. I was just standing at the side of her repeating a banishing spell over n' over, givin' her some backup. She said it helped, so..."

"She'd have no call to lie about it...You should be proud of what you did Sam. It was a brave thing, to face that ugly son-of-a-bitch. You can tell the female thanks from me, you know, if you happen to speak to or see her again."

Sam raised his head again to look over to the driver's mirror, and gave Bobby a small, grateful, smile.

"Thanks, Bobby. I'll make sure to do that. Just, Bobby? Dean doesn't need to know, he wouldn't accept he was worth me contacting her. If he asks, I swear I'll tell him. Ok?"

"I'm not sure it the right thing to do lad but, I'll trust you, I'll go with it, for now. Best I can offer."

"I understand...Bobby, there's something else ... She knew who that fugly was. Wouldn't tell me though, said I should ask Dean. She sounded pretty certain he would know the thing, I'm guessin' from his time in Hell."

Bobby simply nodded and continued to drive in silence, his thoughts now focused on exactly how Dean might have come across that monster, and Bobby not liking where his thoughts were going in terms of a possible answer.

Dean had some colour back in his face, courtesy of the surgery to repair the small puncture in his lung and the tear to his large intestine. The four lots of blood had also helped. The generous amounts of bruising covering large parts of his back and abdomen were tender and sore at times, making it hard for Dean to find a comfortable position to lie or sit in. The long slash down his forearm was now a not so pretty line of black sutures. His consultant told Dean he had been lucky. Red...or Caltorr...whether intentionally or not, hadn't sliced through the artery. And the knocks to the back of Dean's head which, for a while, had left him gazing in a strangely cross-eyed fashion at the world were, to the medic's satisfaction, causing no secondary problems. A nasal cannular fed him the standard level of oxygen and, most importantly as far as Dean was concerned, an IV cannular linked him up to his "magic box" of self administered, though monitored, doses of Morphine.

There was even a hot nurse. The problem being, she wasn't his. Dean only caught occasional glimpses of her as she walked, business like, past his room in one direction or the other. Of course, Dean had tried moaning gloriously as she past, hoping to divert her attention, sadly his strategy had yet to succeed and it had simply resulted in his own short, round, and way too experienced to be fooled by the likes of Dean Singer, nurse to casually stroll into his room, lean up against the door frame and say "Well?" Dean liked her, a lot. He just wasn't about to admit it out loud, instead whining things like, "Not you again...I want the hot one!"

Earlier that morning however, his nurse had finally put the fear of God up him when, after his usual whinge about wanting the hot nurse, his own nurse had sashayed...sashayed...across and bent down, murmuring in his ear in an adopted husky tone "Baby boy, forget her...When you get to know me...I'm blistering!" Dean's terrified expression had her laughing her way out of his room. The very next time the hot nurse walked past, she actually turned to look at Dean, and immediately burst into giggles as she carried on by.

When Sam arrived a short time afterwards, Dean was still hovering between enjoying a good sulk, and reassuring himself that his nurse had simply been winding him up. Sam's arrival came, therefore, as a relief.

"At last! Get in here and close the damn door. You're late. Where've you been? Where's Bobby?"

Closing the door as Dean asked, Sam frowned at his brother.

"Ok, what is it? What's wrong?"

Realising that he had babbled and triggered his brother's worry bone, Dean took a mental grip of himself, his expression morphing into one of puzzlement.

"Nothin's wrong. I expected you sooner that's all, an' Bobby generally comes with. Did you remember breakfast?"

Sam gave Dean a hard look, but Dean's confused and expectant expression remained steady. Sam finally broke eye contact with a shrug.

"I thought he looked tired, so I persuaded him to take the morning off. He'll be along later this afternoon, and no, I thought I'd order us both one from the canteen, we can do breakfast together."

"Good idea...You know Sam, Bobby's not the only one looking worn out. Maybe you need some time off too? They're only keepin' me prisoner another couple of days an,' honestly? I don't need the both of you sittin' around with me at the same time. Ok?"

Sam dragged a small, grey plastic hospital chair to the side of Dean's bed and sat himself down. Looking at his brother, Sam drew a deep breath.

"Dean...I also asked Bobby not to come this morning 'cos I ...We... need to talk."

Dean frowned, not liking how serious Sam sounded, and pretty damn certain that he didn't fancy a whole heap of crap to land when he was still stuck in hospital. It made taking any necessary action all the harder to accomplish.

"We do? You sure? Can it wait till I'm out?"

Dean liked this situation even less when Sam switched his gaze and began staring across at the window. He knew Sam's tells all too well, whatever was on Sam's mind, it didn't promise to be a fun conversation. Dean sighed.

"Sam?...Sammy? Look, whatever it is, can't you just get it over with, please?"

Sam took a second deep breath and flicked his focus back on to Dean.

"Did you know that thing the jerkoff twins summoned?"

The question took Dean by surprise and left his mouth opened and closed soundlessly a couple of times before he re-gathered.

"What the Hell makes you think I might've known it? Obviously the answer's no! No, of course I didn't know the giant freakoid. So now, you tell me why you're askin' such a fuckin' stupid question?...Well?"

Sam bowed his head again.

"I'm not sure...Ok...That daemon was a massive, high level fugly. So, you need to know...It took more than me just chanting a banishing ritual to get rid..."

Dean butted in.

"Sammy...I already know."

Sam's head jerked up and he stared at his brother.

"You do?"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure something like that needed something with more oomph to send it back home. I'd guessed your inner superpower thingy somehow got in on the act, an' that's ok Sam. It's not your fault, you don't have control over it. Really, we're lucky it flared up when it did, more than likely it boosted the banishing spell a few notches, enough to make it work. Right?"

Sam gave Dean an appraising look.

"Yeah. It did. But there was a bit more to it. When my...power... joined in, that's when I got the strong feelin' you knew who the thing was..."

Dean crossed his arms, making him look like an obstinate five year old. He was rapidly becoming uncomfortable and annoyed.

"Well, I already told you, I didn't. That good enough for you?"

"Yes...If you're sure?"

That did it.

"For Chrissake Sam, I told you already, I'm sure! So...We done here? 'Cos, like I said, I don't need you sittin' here all day. If it's all the same, I'd like to have chance to catch up on some sleep now."

Sam looked at the impassive expression on Dean's face, Nodding, he stood up from the chair.

"Of course ... Do you want me to come back later?"

"Tell you what, do me a favour, stay away for the rest of today, ok Sam? And you can tell Bobby to give it a miss as well. Maybe we all need a break?"

Sam briefly considered protesting, but, if he was being honest with himself, the time apart sounded good. So, he simply nodded.

"Ok Dean. I understand. I'll ring the ward later if I don't hear from you first, see how you are."

"Sam, I'll be fine. I will. Please, just go. I'll see you tomorrow sometime."

For a long while after Sam had gone, Dean lay on his back, simply staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out, what had really made Sam ask whether he knew who the higher daemon was? In truth, Dean had immediately recognised the creature and, therefore, who had offered the bounty for his capture and return to Hell, but that was something Sam simply didn't need to know.

Closing his eyes, Dean whispered the name he feared above all others.

"Alistair."

FIN

Oh, look, here's my stop now...Bye bye. Chick x