To all you wonderful people still reading, here is the next chapter:

From this dark rom

Chapter 11

Bobby didn't know what he'd expected.

He'd known it would be bad. With what little Sam had told him, however much he hadn't, Bobby had still been able to figure that much out by himself.

For Sam to sound as depleted and broken as he had, it had to be worse than bad. Even though, yeah, Sam usually tended to worry too much, which was just the opposite of Dean, who downplayed situations that were clearly shot to hell – but Bobby still knew that this was going to a whole different level even on Sam's scale. And the kid sure had had enough experience in worrying about his thick-headed older brother throughout their lives to panic easily anymore.

So, from what Bobby had learned from Sam and what he'd been able to find out through his own research had gotten him plenty worried as it was. To have the whole situation shoved right in his face was a completely different pair of shoes, though.

Bobby hadn't quite been prepared for the sight when Sam finally opened the dingy motel room door for him, not bothering to ask for a password or even a name as usually was their habit. He simply swung the door open, careful to block the view inside with his tall, lanky body before basically rushing Bobby, drawing him into an embrace before the older hunter even had time to react. Sam looked as if he'd surprised himself with the action, because no sooner than he'd released Bobby did he take a step back, his face slightly flushed.

Bobby had to smile a little.

Dean would have loved to see that – Sam would have never lived it down.

"Nice to see you too, Sam…" Bobby mused quietly.

Sam just stood there, looking forlorn and more than a little lost and Bobby decided to have pity on him.

"So, you gonna ask me in or you wanna do this out here, in the parking lot?"

That again got the kid flushing and he quickly retreated back into the room, nervously closing the door behind their backs.

It took Bobby a couple of seconds to find Dean. The older brother usually the one ever present, the one to draw all eyes to him with his looks, his charms, the way he acted and carried himself. Sam, despite his size and his equally catching looks was the one usually staying in the background, observing, evaluating quietly the way he'd been taught to for years and years by both his father and his brother, the two people that had protected him and looked out for him for as long as he could think.

That was probably the reason why Dean was the way he was, acted the way he acted, whenever entering a room or bar or whatever else, drawing the attention to himself in order to keep it away from his younger brother. John had certainly trained him well…both of them. It was just a pity that they'd never learned to shed their awarded skins to try something new every once in a while.

Dean was on one of the beds, sprawled on his back with both arms shackled to the sturdy bed frame above his head. His eyes were closed yet he didn't seem to be asleep but was writhing and moving incessantly, tugging at his restraints, hissing in pain and mumbling, muttering beneath quick and heaving breaths. His head was pressed to the side, eyes squeezed shut tightly as if trying to get away from an invisible attacker.

Dean looked a mess. Even from Bobby's standpoint at the door he could see the lines of pain edged deep into the skin around his eyes, his long lashes laying damp against flushed cheeks, the usually short and spiky hair practically plastered to his head, sticking to his forehead and temples.

He seemed to be sweating and shivering at the same time.

"What the hell…"

This looked so much like the scene from The Exorcist Bobby almost laughed out loud at the irony. Almost.

Sam circled him nervously, looking as if he might keel over with exhaustion any minute, drawing closer to the bed his brother lay on yet not approaching all the way, keeping a little distance, practically hiding behind Bobby. His face a mask of worry and sorrow and agony beyond anything Bobby had seen in a long time.

Not even back then, right after their dad had died when the boys had come to regroup at his house and Sam had been beside himself with pain over their loss, had been out of his mind with worry over his brother's state of mind, had he carried his emotions out in the open as much as right now.

"I had to tie him up…he tried to…he jumped me, tried to get away. He's been in and out. I don't think he's actually out, but he's…delirious, almost… not himself. He has moments of lucidity, but they are, like, gone so fast now it's hard to even catch them anymore. The rest of the time he just struggles and groans and…curses… He wrenched out his shoulder trying to get away…I had to pop it back in. I don't know, might be out again though…"

Bobby pried his eyes away from the older brother, taking in Sam's appearance again, frowning when he saw the angry red line across his neck, the edges clean yet slightly raised and swollen, the deep red shiner, the bruise on his temple. How he could have missed those before Bobby had no idea.

"What happened…did he do this?"

His voice had been a little sharper then he'd intended, but it was hard not to get all protective over either of those boys, hard to not snap when he saw one of them hurt.

Sam heard the reprimand, too and quickly shook his head.

"No, Bobby…he…I mean yeah, he jumped me, but he wasn't himself. You said it yourself, he can't control it anymore… He wanted to leave, you know, wanted to get away so he couldn't hurt me and I held him back and then…then he snapped… He wanted to stop himself, Bobby. I could see him fight it, hell, he's still is doing it, but I don't think…I mean even Dean can't go on forever…right?"

So the kid was still protecting his brother, through all that had happened…both of them were. Dean fighting the only way he knew, linking his reason to the sole purpose of protecting his little brother, Sam doing everything, even though it had to hurt like hell, to forgive Dean for whatever had been said and done.

Those boys would be willing to forgive each other everything…getting possessed and shooting each other, beating and cutting each other up… They'd still be able to forgive the other within the beat of a second, their devotion ran that deep. But Bobby knew that when it came to forgiving themselves it became a whole lot more complicated.

He'd seen it a couple of months back, when they'd both come to his house and together Bobby and Dean had freed Sam of Meg. Bobby was sure he was going to see it again, once this was over. At least that what he hoped, more than anything. And while he wondered why it was that those boys always managed to get themselves into the deepest shit imaginable and how subsequently they always got him involved in it, it still felt strangely good to know that they would turn to him when things got bad, when they needed help, an ally, a friend.

Even though that knowledge did not make this right now any easier.

First off, he had to break it to Sam, and he had to do it carefully. As harmless and devoted to them both as Sam might seem at the moment, Bobby had no doubt that the younger Winchester would not hesitate one second as to who's side to take should he be forced to choose. And Bobby really couldn't blame him.

So, back to business.

Bobby nodded towards Sam's neck.

"Did you clean that properly…disinfect it? You don't wanna get it infected."

Sam glared at him for a second, a face that would have made Dean gleam with pride, no doubt, put on his most determined face.

"It's fine…I'm fine. I cleaned it…its not very deep. I've got it covered."

Of course he had. Sam was everything if not sufficient. But he hardly lacked behind Dean in determination when it came to the keep you brother safe before all else rule. It was only Dean who still liked to think that he held the prerogative on that one. Bobby would have to make sure the stubborn jerk knew how wrong he was about it once this was all over.

Bobby stepped closer to the bed then, realized that Sam moved out of his way, still not approaching Dean any more than necessary. His face carefully crafted, but Sam was so far from being good at hiding his emotions, it was almost pitiable. The guilt and heartache seeping right out of every available pore of his body.

But even while staying away, Sam kept track of ever single one of Bobby's movements, not even trying to hide it either.

Bobby placed his bag on Sam's empty bed, stood over Dean's body for a second, just looking at him. The way he was tied up made the older hunter frown and cringe, knowing that that wouldn't sit too well with the fierce hunter that had always had trouble with being reigned in to begin with. Being tied up, kept immobile and restrained by his own brother sure had to leave him raw and bleeding in more ways than one.

"Hey kiddo…" Bobby whispered, carefully, almost hesitantly extending his hand and letting it hover over Dean's temple for an instant before finally touching. Hesitating before the ultimate intimate gesture of affection that he was sure Dean would hate, or at least pretend to hate if he'd be aware enough, flinching at the feverishly hot skin his fingers encountered.

"Look at what you've gotten yourself into this time…"

Dean twitched, groaned, twisted his head and actually leaned into the touch, almost as if relishing it, craving it. It took Bobby by surprise more than anything the young hunter could have said or done otherwise, the gesture so unlike Dean, it was hard to fathom.

He could hear Sam take in a sharp breath behind him, could feel the young man take a hesitant step closer, move up next to him.

As if Dean could feel his brother's presence - and knowing Dean he probably did - he started fidgeting, stirring, reacting to his brother's closeness. Only, he didn't react quite the way Bobby would have expected him to.

Usually, when hurt or sick, Dean would not let anybody get close to him except Sam. Bobby vividly remembered a time, Dean must have been about 13 or 14, John bringing the kid to his house with a fever that had gone up through the roof. The claws of a werewolf had ripped his thigh open a couple of days before, the wound angrily infected by the time they'd made it to Bobby's.

John had been all but helpless, having done everything possible for his oldest, yet the fever was rising and the kid wouldn't let his dad touch him, would scream bloody murder whenever John even got close to him, let alone make contact. Bobby hadn't fared any better and together they pretty much had to wrestle the teenager down and force the medicine down his throat, had to forcefully hold on to him while administering to his wounds. When checking on him sometime during the night Bobby had been more than a little surprised to find Sam lying in the same bed as his brother, snuggled up to him, one hand on his wrist, holding on to him, Dean being perfectly still, finally sleeping peacefully.

There had been countless situations like this, Bobby knew from experience and relation. That was why he was all the more disturbed by Sam's now obvious reluctance to touch his brother, by Dean's immediate reaction to Sam's close proximity.

Dean started to struggle more violently, throwing himself against the cuffs that held him on the bed. He turned his head away from the two men towering over him and strained his neck to the point where Bobby thought his veins were going to pop underneath his flushed skin.

His eyes squeezed impossibly tighter, his lips in a line so thin they seemed to be nonexistent. Low moans managed to make their way out from somewhere deep inside his chest and he arched his upper body sideways, his feet shuffling to grab a hold on the tangled sheets, trying to scuffle away from them, away from…Sam.

"Nhhh…no…" he gasped out, tugging at the cuffs in earnest now, fingers of his left hand clenched so tight his nails sliced into his palm.

"Hey…easy…take it easy…"

Bobby reached out again, trying to steady his friend, trying to give him reassurance and stability, but Dean seemed to be oblivious.

"No…NO. Get away from me…get him away from me or…or…"

His eyes snapped open, head whipping towards Bobby and Sam with such force, the older hunter instantly took a step backwards, feeling himself bumping into Sam, who still stood behind him. Bobby thought he'd never forget the look of pure, unabashed hatred in Dean's eyes at that moment. A look usually reserved for all the baddies the young man hunted and detested more than anything. A look not meant for either one of them.

"Untie me you fuck…and let me go…LET ME GO. I'm gonna kill you…I swear to god…"

The words directed not at Bobby but to the person standing behind him…the words directed straight at Sam. Bobby was too dumbstruck to say anything. He felt Sam scuffle away from him, felt him slip out from between the beds and make his way to somewhere across the room. Dean's eyes followed him like a predator stalking its prey, shooting arrows of pure, searing fire, his body coiled and ready to strike the moment an opportunity would present itself.

"Let. Me. Go!"

A feral growl, a voice Bobby had never heard before, so full of menace and hatred…

Dean twisted himself like a snake, sweat glistening on his face and strained neck, pulling, tugging, now suddenly trying not to get away from Sam but apparently wanting to follow him, to get to him. The metal cuffs clinked against the bed frame, screeched and rattled the whole bed, but didn't budge. It wasn't hard to see the angry red bruises, deep cuts and abrasions already adorning Dean's wrists and forearms, trails of blood making their way down the sweat stained skin, staining the sheets a deep red in places.

Bobby knew that he had to get Sam out of the room, out of the situation, for his own good as much as for his brother's. Just for a little while. Sam's presence only making matters worse, however wrong and unbelievable that was.

Bobby kept his eyes on Dean, having a hard time prying them away he was so riveted in shock, even though he'd known, in theory, what to expect. Still, seeing Dean like this…the whole goddamn theory kind of sounded like a sweet little good-night story in comparison.

Still his voice was low and composed when he spoke.

"Sam…why don't you…go get us something to eat? I didn't have anything all day. The stuff they serve on the plane - it's inedible. I could really go for a sandwich now…and a nice strong coffee."

This was going to be a long day.

Sam shook his head, looking distraught and close to tears yet determined, unwilling to abandon his brother, unwilling to leave his side even though it was clear as day that it wasn't helping matters any.

"No…no. I gotta stay with him. He needs me."

A little stubborn, maybe? Sounding defensive and dead set, yet his eyes once again betrayed his insecurity all too clearly.

"I think what you both need now is a little space. Sam, please, just go get us something to bite…I'll take care of him while you're gone, alright? When was the last time you had something to eat?"

Sam didn't have an answer to that, just like Bobby had expected.

"I'm not even gonna ask you when you last slept…we can't change that now, but we can keep you from falling over from hunger…me too, for that matter. I saw a restaurant down the road. You won't be gone for more than thirty minutes…"

Bobby tried to lock eyes with the young man, tried to make him understand. He had to see, had to know that right now, there was nothing he could do to make this better. He had done the research, knew that the demon made people turn against the ones they loved the most. In his case, it would be Sam…always Sam that Dean cared about more than anything. As hard as it might seem - him being here only made things worse for Dean. The closer his brother was to him, the closer he was without Dean being able to lash out the way that Ragazara-bitch wanted him to, the more he was gonna hurt himself, hurt Sam too…

Until they'd prepared everything, it would be better for Sam to keep a little distance, let Dean save whatever strength he could…the kid was gonna need it later on. They all would.

Bobby knew that Sam was all too aware of that fact, too, the way he'd kept himself in the background, had kept his distance to the bed even though it had been more than apparent that all he wanted to do was rush to his brother's side, help him through this… He knew it, but Sam wouldn't be a true Winchester if he wouldn't try to fight reason a bit, even when he knew better.

He could see the fight in Sam's eyes, in his face as he chewed his bottom lip, his eyes flickering between Dean and Bobby, almost like the eyes of a crack addict, never standing still, jumping and flicking before finally resignation dulled them, made the light of fight die down in an instant.

"Alright…alright I'll go. I'll go if you stay…"

As if he was going anywhere.

"Sure thing…I'll stay right here, start preparing everything. Make that two sandwiches for me…better yet, get a whole assortment, safe some for later. And, like, a gallon of coffee."

Sam smirked, already grabbing his jacket and the keys to the Impala.

"God…you sound just like him. Anything else you need…for later?"

"No, I got that covered. Took most of the stuff with me and whatever I couldn't get on the plane I picked up on the way here. That cab-driver sure looked at me funny when I had him stop in two different pharmacies and one of those alternative herb-shops till I had all the things I needed."

"Ok, alright…" Sam smiled somewhat distractedly, barely able to but finally managing to tear his eyes away from his brother's restless form before disappearing out the door, leaving Bobby and Dean alone at last.

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Dean's eyes followed Sam until he was out of the room, lingering on the closed door, his body still strained against the bonds, muscles shivering with the effort it had to take to keep himself in this no doubt uncomfortable position.

Only when the Impala's rumbling engine had pulled out of earshot did he finally squeeze his eyes shut, his head hitting the pillow with a thump that actually made Bobby jump. His fingers were still clenched into fists, muscles still locked, but the lines on his crunched up face once more suggested pain and misery where seconds ago pure hatred had been dominant above everything else.

Bobby felt as out of place as he hardly ever had, felt wrong to be here, to see this, felt wrong to sit here instead of Sam, whose rightful place he'd taken. This whole fucking situation just so downright wrong, it screamed to the heavens…this just shouldn't be.

He loved Dean like he would his own son, hell, loved both those boys despite all the shit they managed to pull him into on a regular basis. He could barely stand seeing either one, let alone both in such misery. He couldn't stand seeing Dean so hostile towards his own brother.

The boy started shaking again, harder this time, as if coming undone now that Sam was gone, out of desperation, most likely. Bobby just wasn't sure if Dean was glad to have his brother gone or if he wanted him back so he could fight it out with him. From the look he'd shot Sam merely a minute ago, it was more likely to be the latter yet somehow Bobby couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

Bobby took one of the blankets that lay crumbled on Sam's bed, draped it over Dean and found himself staring once again into those intense green eyes, trained on him now, wide open and slightly glassy but Dean…almost the Dean he knew.

Bobby swallowed down the bitter taste in his mouth, forced himself to keep his voice as calm and steady and unaffected as he could manage.

"Hey…thought you might be cold."

"Hot…off …" Dean rasped out even as a violent shiver raked through him, made the cuffs rattle against the bed frame.

"Alright…whatever you say."

Bobby removed the blanket again, let it rest on the foot of the bed though, within easy reach, dead set on putting it back once Dean was asleep again. No use in letting him catch pneumonia to top it all off…the way he was sweating and freezing at the same it did look as if he was on the best way to just that.

It was weird, there were about a million things Bobby wanted to say, had collected in his head for just this moment alone with Dean but now that he had the chance, he couldn't think of simply one.

It always had been easy to talk to Dean, a whole lot easier than talking to John or even Sam most times. John, because he simply had been a hard person to be with on the best of days, Sam because he used to live in his own little world most of the time, buried in some book or other. Not that Bobby couldn't relate to that but still…growing up the kid had just been too dead set on distancing himself from anything that had to do with hunting, he'd been hard to get a hand on at times.

Dean had always been easy going, interested in most everything Bobby had to show or teach him, listening to his hunting stories like other kids listened to good night stories, soaking up pretty much every single lesson on auto-shop that Bobby had managed to squeeze in the boy's training schedule. They'd always had a special relationship, something that connected them from the very first time Bobby had met the kid, then barely more than a squirt himself, Sam even still in his diapers.

Bobby would not let anything or anyone take that away from him again.

He'd get Dean back, Sam right along with him and that would be that. Nobody and nothing had the right to mess with his family like that.

"Bobby…"

Dean's rough voice ripped the hunter out of his thoughts and he focused back on his friend, green eyes still intently focused on him, lips slightly parted as if having trouble breathing. He looked more coherent now…more himself, if only a little bit. Unfortunately he also looked as if it was hard work maintaining that condition, as if it was physically and emotionally draining him by the second.

"Bobby…need your help." The words were clipped and almost hissed out and Bobby had to work hard on keeping his face neutral.

"'kay…alright. That's what I'm here for, Dean. I'm here to help."

Dean sagged a little at the sound of Bobby's voice, it seemed, throat working soundlessly as he apparently swallowed hard, ground his teeth against an unseen attack of either pain or panic. Neither option did much to appease Bobby.

"NO…" He almost spit the word out, chest heaving, struggling.

"No…you…promise me something. Bobby…need you to promise me…"

The desperation in his voice, mirrored by those intense green eyes sliced into Bobby's very core, the visible strain of every single one of his muscles made Bobby nod reflexively.

"Alright…I promise to help, Dean. Just tell me what and I'll do whatever I can." Bobby said, low and placating.

He saw the fight, praying to whoever was willing to listen that he'd be able to take some of it away from the younger man.

"Promise…to keep Sammy away, make sure he doesn't do something stupid. Don't let him… Keep him away so I can't hurt him, Bobby…please."

The words were pressed out between clenched teeth, quick and rushed, as if he was afraid that he didn't have enough time left if he put too much empathy in them, breaking at the last word, though, lids sliding closed as he once again fought whatever was torturing him.

Bobby couldn't tear his eyes away, even though he wanted nothing more than to get out of this room, the air suddenly too thick to breathe, everything to not witness this.

Damn the Winchesters. He really had been quite happy and content without their goddamn problems dragging him down along with them. He'd never wanted to care about anybody that deeply ever again…he'd sworn himself that a long time ago. Damn John, first and foremost, for bringing those boys into his life with all that blind devotion and friendship and sense of family that he'd so successfully been able to keep out of his focus for so long.

"Bobby…promise me. I don't think I have all that much time left…"

"Shut up, you moron, and quit talking like that. You have plenty of time left. I told you I'm here to help. When have I ever let you guys down, huh? If you'd just for once get your head out of your ass and freaking listen to me, you' d know that."

He might have gotten a little desperate, his voice maybe a tick too harsh, but Dean had always been the one who reacted much better to harsh words than gentle ones, never one for the soft talk. Bobby thought he could deal a lot better like this, right now.

Dean squirmed again, took in a sharp breath, hands clenching impossibly tighter, head arching back a little into the sweat soaked pillow.

"It's…I'm losing control again. I can feel it…"

Were those tears in the corner of his eyes there? Hell no…Dean would never…

"I know I'm not strong enough, Bobby. It's killing me… If I don't…turn against Sammy, it's gonna kill me. I can feel it. I know it but I can't stop it. It's too strong and I can't hurt Sam. You NEED to stop me from hurting Sam, Bobby. If I ever…if you let me hurt him I'm gonna take you down with me, I swear."

The words tore Bobby to the core, the apparent struggle rippling through Dean's body, washing over his face leaving him weaker and weaker by the second telling him that the kid wasn't lying, that he was fighting a losing battle. And god, did he fight. His eyes alone transporting more determination and resolution than Bobby would have thought possible after everything he knew had happened, though at the same time the light was flickering, not yet willing to go out but burning down fast. And Bobby could see the resignation too, the knowledge of what was going to happen.

"You gotta promise, Bobby…you're the only one I can trust on this."

A hitch in his breath, body twisting a little and Bobby instinctively reached out, trying to steady the boy that was writhing in pain underneath the palm of his hand, jumping at the touch, drawing away again.

"Promise me, Bobby…please. Take care of Sam…I don't wanna hurt him, but if I do…you gotta stop me. No matter what. Don't…whatever I say or do, whatever Sam says or does, you stop me. Promise…promise me that!"

He pulled against the bonds once more, this time to get closer to Bobby, to emphasize his words, cuffs slicing deeper into his flesh, sending a fresh trail of blood down his arms but he didn't even seem to notice.

What could Bobby do, really? Dean never asked for anything unless it was important, unless it involved hunting or his family…which, more often than not blended into each other all too seamlessly. He knew that it was more important to the kid to keep his brother safe than think about where that would leave him in the process. Had always been that way, would always stay that way. No matter how many times anyone tried to drill into that thick head of his' that it didn't always make sense to put everybody else first. Sometimes, you needed to look out for yourself, for a change.

Only now didn't seem to be the time to stress that little fact, Bobby realized. Now Dean needed to know that he had backup on this, needed it to be able to keep fighting. And who the hell was Bobby to not give him that however small reprieve? He had no right, even though he would never willingly do what Dean so obviously asked of him.

"Alright…Dean. Alright, I promise. I'll take care of the two of you…but you gotta promise me something too. You don't give up, alright? You keep fighting and we'll figure out a way to get you out of this. You do that for me and I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep that giant of a brother of yours in check, OK?"

For a second he thought that Dean hadn't heard, his eyes glazed over and trained onto some spot in the distance, and Bobby thought he'd slipped off again. But finally Dean slumped down, let his body go lax so suddenly the whole bed practically shook under the impact of heavy, exhausted muscle dropping down and he let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. But Bobby chose to believe it was nothing but a really large exhale of air. Leave the kid a bit of dignity yet. That much he owed him.

"Alright, Dean? Need to hear it from you, kiddo. Just like you did from me…"

Dean's eyes didn't open again, his voice barely audible as he said the words Bobby wasn't all too sure he could trust right now.

"Yeah…yeah, Bobby. I promise."

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Tbc

AN:

As always, thank you so much for all the wonderful and encouraging reviews for the last chapter. As I mentioned to some of you before – fight scenes are always hard to write, and they leave me fearing that my vocabulary won't hold up (not that I would do much better in german ;-)), but looking back I think now that I didn't do too bad, after all.

So, I hope you still like it and come back for more.

Thank you all – you guys rock, honestly.

Take care!