1Chapter Ten
Dean knew the instant he made up his mind, but it didn't give him a bit of relief. Sam was a mess...Leah was a mess...and Dean...well he knew himself well enough to know that no matter how rock solid his game face was...that it wasn't going to hold much longer. She needed this. He didn't want to do...she didn't really want him to do it...but as it was looking like their only option, Dean acted. He walked right across the room without giving her time to back up or out and without a single word of warning he did it. Dean's fist connected with Leah's jaw on the right.
He watched her head snap to the left and then her eyes roll back into her head before he caught her in mid fall. He gave himself a half shrug that it had worked first time around because he had actually held back a little. She sagged into his arms before he finally let himself take a breath and he moved her to his still stripped bed. He set her down and looked back to Sam with a heavy sigh.
Dean rubbed a hand over his face and swallowed hard looking to the first aid box. This was getting to be a bitch. He slid into the chair in front of Sam's lap top and opened the box giving Sam another glance. Dean slumped down in the chair wearily and closed his eyes taking in several deep breaths before he looked over the two forms once more. "I should get paid." He mumbled to himself. "Start up a medical practice...settled down somewhere."
He looked to this freshly stitched up hand and furrowed his brow. "Nah they don't pay those guys enough." He knew he was rambling maybe just to hear another voice that wasn't screaming. Well if it worked for Leah maybe being unconscious would work for Sam too. At least until he could figure out another way to make it stop. Dean sat there for God only knew how long trying to get a grip on all of this before he finally eased himself up and to his feet with yet another long sigh in a list of long sighs that mirrored his souls recompense to do what needed to be done. Dean opened the first aid box at the foot of the bed looking to Sam's swelling mass of purpled and red digits.
"I hope you stay asleep for this." Dean whispered. "Cause I am sure as hell not going to let you bite me again...and I don't know how much screaming I can take...not to mention the hotel guests next door...Glad we got the corner room...only have to worry about one set of extra ears." Dean winced placing a finger on Sam's pinky toe of the left foot. "I guess we'll have to take it slow or something... God, Bobby I wish you would hurry it up." Dean looked to the clock over the television set and shook his head. Three hours and Forty - five minutes.
It was a long drive. Dean knew that and Bobby was going out of his way to make it as it was...but Dean couldn't help but want some help here now. Dean took hold of Sam's smallest toe and gave it a soft wiggle trying to gauge where the bone had broken. What he heard and felt though made his stomach rise up into his throat. Dean felt the bones shifting having splintered into several pieces. He needed surgery...maybe some pins...as he examined the others he found them in a likewise fashion. Splintered into so many breaks that it was going to take more then a easy set to fix. Dean finally resolved a different approach. He would wrap them as best he could and dope Sam up as soon as he woke up...at least til he could get him to the hospital. Damn, they were all going to need a hospital soon if this kept up.
Nothing was poking out of the skin so that was a blessing at the very least. Dean stopped several times during the wrapping process as Sam shifted in his agonizing sleep and gave him enough pause to settled back before he began again. It seemed to take an hour to wrap his feet. And by the time he was done Dean felt like someone had hit him in the gut repeatedly...with a baseball bat.
Dean finally took a break and opened his cell phone. He quickly punched in Bobby's cell number and sank down in the bed beside Sam resting half sitting against the headboard as he watched his brother's chest rise and fall evenly.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The lights flickered on and off in the lone room met by eyes that seemed to stare blankly at the ceiling. There was a moment when time froze and the clock over the fresh flowers on the bedside stopped. "I have a problem."
A deep voice met ears that seemed vacant as the figure on the bed didn't acknowledge having seen or heard anything save to give a have gurgled grunt. A dark figure walked around the bed and looked down at the man's face with a tight frown. His yellow eyes met the man's stark blue ones as the demon placed his hand over the man's. "Donovan, time for you to help me again."
Donovan's expression didn't change much save a slight curl at the right side of his lips that almost looked like a smile. "The project that we completed...isn't as concluded as I thought. Like I said...there's a problem." The demon sighed. "The circle is broken...and I need you to kill the person responsible..." he broke off a moment as if he was listening to a reply that never actually became vocal. "Oh no...she's psychic...she's tormented...you can help her end the suffering. She'll be grateful." He paused again as if listening. "No the others will be fine...they are far too weak to create too many problems. I'll deal with them myself...if time permits...if not...the added chaos will only fuel my current efforts...maybe throw a few people off my scent."
There was another long drawn out pause. "I need this taken care of as quickly as possible." the demon nodded. "You think you can find her with this?" he tucked a small piece of torn bloodied fabric from the room he nicknamed 'the burial chamber' into Donovan's hand. The demon smiled as if he had his answer and patted his shoulder. "Good man." he turned and slowly walked from the bed disappearing in the shadows.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Dean frowned as he got the message that Bobby was out of a service area and let out a groan of frustration as he picked up the shot gun that had been tossed to the floor the moment that Sam's vision began. He checked the rock salt he had loaded into it again with a sigh as Sam began to let out a soft groan from the bed. "Sam?" Dean perked up keeping the gun clenched in his hand as he made his way over to Sam's side.
"Dean?" Sam's face conveyed the extent of the pain that Dean wished he could ease. Dean softly sat down beside Sam as his brother's eyes lulled open the skin around them pulled tight in a grimace.
"Hey." Dean couldn't even force a smile as he took in Sam's countenance. "You think you can tell me what you saw while we force some pain meds in you?" Dean asked working to get another set of Ibprofen out. He tried to count how many Sam had had in the last few hours and lost the battle with numbers in his head. He was sure it wasn't going to hurt anything.
"Sonofabitch broke my toes...with a...hammer." Sam grabbed the pills from Dean's hand and popped them in his mouth with a groan as Dean handed him a glass of water to wash it down. There was a long pause where Dean thought that was all he was going to get until Sam finally took a few deep breaths fighting against the agony to speak. "Did she blink?"
"No she..." Dean paused. "She asked me to lay her out instead...said she'd never blinked unconscious...so well we made her unconscious."
Sam wasn't even going to say the first thing that came to mind through the shades of misery that were playing through his system. "The demon was experimenting with them somehow...trying to work on mass possession of psychics."
"You saw all that?" Dean didn't like where this was going...not one bit. Sam's half laugh that was almost followed by a snarl though made him wrinkle his brow in confusion. "Sam?"
"It wasn't working." Sam almost smiled at that much. "The psychics were too strong...no matter how much they tried to break their will...they had demons inside them Dean...and they still had control...the people...not the demons."
"You mean to tell me that they couldn't be demon possessed?" Dean asked trying to make this somehow explain the events that had been unfolding.
"No they were possessed...they just had complete control. And the yellow eyed demon wasn't happy." Sam seemed to be relishing the information as if it fueled his will to remain conscious even though Dean could see that the pain was ripping him apart. Dean was going to suggest Sam relaxing a bit while they took the time to wait for Bobby or took a chance to get to the Hospital...either or was sounding good right about now. "It's like the victims are trying to tell us their story...they just can't control how strong it's coming through."
"You mean to tell me that they can keep a demon in check but can't tone down the message...Sam, that's not reassuring."
"I think the demons are still in their corpses. The spirits are begging us to destroy them so they can rest...turn about being fair play if you were a demon and couldn't leave the person who was suppose to be your victim...then would you let the spirit leave when the body died? I think the psychics trapped the demons inside them and demons are keeping the psychics spirits trapped now. We have to help them."
"That didn't even make sense." Dean shook his head wondering if the killer had hit Sam in the head with the hammer as well. "Dude, did that guy wack you in the head too?"