I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well, maybe. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.
Sam is 16 and Dean is 20.
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Sam's fever hovered around 104 despite Dean and Jim's efforts to keep it down. He hadn't moved in hours and Dean wished that he could take Sam's place.
Dean turned at the scent of coffee and saw John in the doorway. Without a word, John handed the mug over to his son. It was about an hour from dawn, but the thought of a new day did nothing but worry everyone.
Jim stood and carefully tucked blankets around Sam. "Bring him into the chapel, I'll meet you there." He left John and Dean with Sam.
He paused in the doorway and looked back at the Winchesters. Jim prayed it would work, but nothing was certain. He figured if he were a betting man, a little less than half a chance to save Sam.
With Dean's help, John took Sam into his arms. His boy was too warm, too still, too thin, too sick. Dean wrapped the blankets around Sam and wouldn't meet John's eyes. He didn't want to see the uncertainty of saving Sam, didn't want to see the fear that they were all too late.
Pastor Jim had a small chapel on his property. It was behind the house, at the end of the driveway. Ten rows of pews and a pulpit at the front, simple stained glass windows and a maximum capacity of about one hundred. He held small Sunday services among other lesser-known events. Anything from baptisms and funerals to blessings and exorcisms.
There was frost on the grass as John carried Sam towards the building. Dean followed behind, silent like he was on a hunt. Sam's breath rose in faint clouds above him and John told himself that at least his boy was still breathing. They still had that.
Dean hadn't spent a lot of time in Pastor Jim's chapel, he didn't have much use for the building. Sam had gone there more frequently, but Dean had no idea what for. Sam never told him and he stopped asking. John usually steered clear as well, he hadn't had much use for religion. He believed in the dark things, but didn't put much stock in the light. Sam usually managed to, though, despite everything.
Dean held the door for John as he slipped through. The three Winchesters stood just inside the doors and waited for Jim's instructions on how to save Sam's life.
Jim came from a door in the back, he had changed into his black shirt and white collar. He held a black case, like an old fashioned doctor's bag. His gaze was determined and there were hard lines on his face.
"Place him on the floor, between the first row of pews and the pulpit." He spoke without argument.
John did as he was told and for a moment, Dean recognized how strange it was to see John following orders. Dean glanced up at the wooden cross and looked at the carved face of Jesus that hung there. Please he thought if you're there, save my brother. Please don't take Sammy. He shook his head once as thought he were chastising himself for talking to a wooden statue. He moved closer to his dad and brother.
"Remove his shirt." He set his supplies up on the few pew. "Fold his shirt under his head."
Dean stepped forward before John could get to Sam. Gently, because he had done it a thousand times, he slipped Sam's shirt off of him. Dean folded it and tucked it under his little brother's head. Sam was pale and thin, even in the few days that he had been sick, the weight he lost was noticeable. The burns from the protective charm were half healed, but still clearly visible. Dean ran his hand along Sam's jaw for a moment and thought he saw his little brother's eyes almost open. That's right, keep fighting.
John rested his hand on Dean's shoulder and they both took a few steps back to give Jim room. He arranged Sam's arms and legs in the shape of the cross, one ankle resting over the top of the other and his arms outstretched. Jim draped thin silver chains over Sam's wrists and ankles, it reminded Dean of shackles and he suddenly understood that is what they were. Jim glanced back and John and Dean and then placed a longer chain across Sam's chest. John watched every second of this, it was just like the first time he had seen a purification ritual. The time he saw the one that didn't work and the victim was lost.
Jim stood and took the bottle of holy water and his bible. His bible wasn't like most other bibles, and that was aside from the small compartment in the back that held a couple vials of holy water. It also wasn't counting the devil's trap carefully inked in the back cover, anything demon that ended up with that book in their lap would find it hard to move at all. It was unique mostly because it was old, the pages thin and yellowed. Bound in thick black leather and written entirely in Latin. A silver cross was embossed on the front, which was incredibly useful for things with an aversion to crucifixes and or silver. So much power in such a small space, every inch of that book was useful in some way or another against the dark things of the world.
"I'll need you both to stand back." He met Dean's eyes specifically. "And to not interfere, no matter what, unless I ask. Do you understand?"
Both Dean and John nodded.
"What can I do?" Dean had always been the one to take care of Sam, it was his job.
"Pray." Jim turned to Sam and opened his Bible.
Jim looked down at Sam for a moment and couldn't help but remember that little boy that he had first met so many years ago. A little boy that asked more questions than there were answers for and wanted to learn everything and wanted to be just like his older brother. He took a slow breath and refocused his attention.
In some small part of Sam's mind, he was aware of a crushing weight at his wrists, ankles and across his chest. He heard Pastor Jim, his father and brother's voices, but not the words. Every inch of him hurt and he couldn't have moved even if he had the strength to try.
"PATER noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra." Sam tensed as Pastor Jim started the Lord's prayer.
The words broke into Sam's mind, clear and loud like a bell on a silent day. At the same moment the feeling of fire consumed every inch of him. Inside and out he was certain he was burning. He wanted to yell to Dean to get out, but he had no voice. The fire took that, too. Sam knew he was going to die from the flames, there wasn't an inch of him that didn't burn.
"Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen."
Pastor Jim took the flask of holy water and sprinkled it on Sam. That was when the boy started to scream. John gripped Dean's shoulder to keep him back. It was undiluted instinct that made Dean want nothing else than to run to Sam's side. John was certain his heart had cracked at the sound and he didn't know if he could keep Dean back. Sam yelled like every bone in his body was being broken, like his skin was being slowly pulled from him, like he was being pulled apart.
Sam arched up against the silver chains, but the held him as though they were iron. Blood and spit frothed at his lips and his fingers scraped against the floor for anything to hold onto. Small smears of his blood against the wood floor from his desperate attempt to grab on to something.
He was burning, he was engulfed in flames, he would not survive.
"Samuel." Pastor Jim's voice was solid and warm and commanding. He poured holy water on the nearly healed scratch on Sam's wrist. "Per vox of Senior sanctus lux lucis , EGO defaeco obscurum vobis. EGO to order vestri phasmatis futurus universus quod untarnished. Per SUUS palma , EGO purgo vos of malum virus vos. Amen."
Sam stopped screaming as soon as Pastor Jim said "amen". The boy went completely rigid; his back arched, his head thrown back, his fingers splayed out, his legs locked. He took one shallow, staggered breath and then was limp.
John felt his knees go weak. This is exactly what happened the other time. Nobody even dared breathe.
Jim knelt and pressed two fingers against Sam's neck. He closed his eyes for a moment and then tipped Sam's head back to open his airway.
"John." Jim didn't glance over, he just knew John would come. "Start compressions."
He pushed Dean aside and dropped to his knees next to his son. He placed his hands over the center of Sam's chest and began the effort to make his son's heart beat again. Dean was frozen where he stood.
Jim leaned forward and blew breath into Sam's lungs. John kept the compressions going. He wouldn't stop, not until his boy was back. Never. Jim pressed his fingers to Sam's neck again.
"John." His voice was quiet and weary.
"No." John growled.
Jim pulled John's hands from his son's chest and pressed two of John's fingers against Sam's neck. John automatically turned to Dean.
Dean sunk to his knees and took a slow breath.
Pastor Jim removed the silver chains from Sam. Where they had lain across the boy were faint bruises. More bruises from the chest compressions, a miracle none had been broken.
"We should bring him up to the house."
John carefully slid his arms under Sam's neck and knees. He pulled his boy close to his chest and stood. Jim went over and held out a hand to help Dean to his feet. The four wend up to the house without a word being said. Too much had happened to be put into words.
It seemed like hours should have passed, it certainly felt like it, but to Dean's surprise it was just after dawn. The grass still had frost and his breath still clouded in front of his eyes. He wondered for a brief second if an entire day had passed and this was already tomorrow, but that was stupid, it was still the same day. He looked at Sam in his father's arms and wanted everything to be different.
-s-
Latin translations:
"OUR Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."
"By the power of the Lord's holy light, I purge the darkness from you. I command your spirit to be whole and untarnished. By HIS glory, I cleanse you of the evil poisoning you. Amen."
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Sorry for the cliffhanger….well, not really. Did it work, is Sam saved or… I'll try and get the next chapter up in not too much time, maybe this weekend. Thank you all for reading, your comments are wonderful and definitely keep me writing.