Several hours passed and Dean struggled to keep his rising panic under control. Bobby's medicine had given Fiona a brief respite from the pain, but the venom proved to be stronger.
She was getting so much worse now. The only mercy was that she seemed to no longer have pain at the site of the punctures. Unfortunately, that was due to her entire back being completely numb.
The vomiting and bleeding had started unexpectedly just an hour prior. The sight of that very first red-stained tear sliding down her pale face had shaken Dean to the core. She could no longer open her eyes properly, and when she did try, he could tell she had great difficulty focusing.
Then the seizures came.
Dean held her steady as her body convulsed. In an ill-advised and frantic attempt to prevent her from biting or swallowing her tongue, he slid the flat leather sheath of his bowie knife between her teeth. He whispered every desperate, pointless, nonsensical reassurance he could think of as he tried to keep her (as well as himself) calm until each one passed. It had been almost ten minutes since the last seizure, but Dean was still very much on edge.
He could hear the muffled voices of Bobby, Sam, and Frank, along with the babbling of his son from a room not too far way. It helped to soothe his nerves somewhat, knowing that he was not alone in this. He sent texts to Sam about each new symptom to make sure they were aware of Fiona's worsening condition and to see if they could offer any suggestions. Also, because he really needed the reassurance of Sam's responses (even if he did find out from his egghead little brother that the whole shoving-something-into-a-seizure-patient's-mouth thing was no longer recommended).
The downside to being nearby the others was hearing Gunner call for Fiona. His son's first hopeful beckoning for 'Mom?' had been like a dull knife through Dean's heart. It turned his blood to ice in his veins. And it had only been the beginning.
Despite Frank, Sam, and Bobby's attempts to distract him, once Gunner realized that his mother was not responding, he became steadily more desperate for her. Dean tried to comfort Fiona, but he knew it was no use. He could imagine no crueler torture than what she was enduring - suffering unimaginably from the venom and left to weep that she could not answer her baby's pleas.
Thankfully, after almost a hour, Gunner had succumbed to his Uncle Frank's combination of walking, rocking, and deep, rumbling humming and finally passed out.
Long after Gunner's cries had stopped, they echoed through his family's hearts and minds. The air remained heavy with anxiety and sorrow.
With a gloved hand, Dean used a cool, damp cloth to wipe the blood-tinged sweat from Fiona's face and neck. It wasn't much. It certainly wasn't making her better. But it was something, a small comfort he could provide to keep them connected.
She winced and whimpered as her muscles cramped and spasmed. She shifted her body fitfully in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. When the cramping let up, she leaned into his touch and wept quietly.
"Shhh...it's okay, Fi," Dean soothed, though it really wasn't. Not at all. "We're gonna figure something out. Gonna make you better. You'll see. Please, just hang in there for me, sweetheart."
"I don't want to die, Dean," she confessed tearfully.
"Good thing, 'cause I ain't letting you," he replied with a forced smile.
She laughed at that, despite her pain, and gazed up at him in wonder, struggling to focus on his face.
"God, you're still so good looking," she sighed. A second later, she squeezed her eyes shut and gasped as her muscles locked up. "I wish I could have kissed you again," she managed in a whimper.
"You will, baby girl. And so much more," he insisted anxiously. "We got a lot of time to make up for, you and me... But you gotta get better first, okay? I promise, I will make it worth the effort."
"I have no doubt you would," she laughed weakly. "But... fighting it isn't helping. Dean, I... Oh, God...I don't want to leave my baby!" She sobbed desperately, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the sorrow and pain. "Promise me you'll look after Gunner. Promise you'll take care of him."
"Always," Dean swore brokenly before begging, "Please don't leave me, Fi. Please?"
"...love...don't...want..." she whispered as her body gradually relaxed.
Dean's eyes widened in horror as her breathing slowed and grew shallow.
"Fi?" He called, holding his breath as he waited for a reply.
With each passing second, his panic grew.
"FI?" He shook her shoulders lightly, watching for even a hint of movement.
Nothing came.
"No..." he gasped as the agonizingly familiar sensation of loss settled onto his broken heart. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no..." he pleaded, terrified to believe what he was witnessing as she slipped away. "FI! Come on, wake up, baby girl. Please! Just look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes. FIONA!"
He had just started to lose it - just let loose the first mindless sob as he slipped over the edge into grief - when his shoulders were grabbed and he was pulled roughly from the couch.
"Step back, boy!" Bobby shouted, shoving his way in front of him and frantically rattling off the unfamiliar words of a spell.
Dean instinctively fought against Frank's iron-grip, barely registering that her brother had been the one to pull him away. He watched in confusion as Bobby smeared a thick red substance across Fiona's forehead.
Thunder crashed outside and the entire building seemed to quake in response.
Fiona's body seized up then, drawing a loud, deep breath - seemingly of its own accord - before collapsing again.
The room descended to silence, everyone staring, completely stunned, at Fiona's motionless form.
"What was that?" Dean asked, watching her with wide, fearful eyes as Frank released him.
"Apache," Bobby replied simply, though he knew that's not what Dean was asking.
"What the hell did you just do to her?" Dean demanded as he rounded on him.
Bobby winced when he saw the blind rage in Dean's gaze, watched it rattling its way through Dean's muscles, his entire body trembling with the singular need to defend Fiona from anything - anyone who might be a threat to her safety. Bobby had seen this particular wild look before, though he'd never been on the receiving end of it. Every time Sammy was in trouble, this side of Dean came out. It trumped any fury a Mama bear ever displayed in defense of a cub. Bobby could see the kid had it bad for this girl, regardless of the age difference. Love was the only thing that could put this particular red-hot, glowing rage into the elder Winchester's eyes.
"Easy, Dean," Frank urged, taking a step closer in Bobby's defense.
Dean leveled the same glare at Frank in response.
Sam approached cautiously with his very tired and confused nephew in his arms. He set Gunner down in the play-pen, preparing to intervene just in case Dean lost control of his temper. He knew that Dean wasn't in the right state of mind. It had been almost two days since his brother had slept and, considering everything he'd been hit with in that time...? Well, even Dean had a limit.
Frank gave Dean a incredulous look, pointing to each of them in turn as he spoke. "You really think Bobby would've put her in danger? You think I'd help him do something to hurt my baby sister? Look, I get that you're scared of losing her. TRUST ME, I get it - it scares the shit outta me, too. But you had better get your damned head straight, man." His tone was even and calm, but the warning came through loud and clear.
Frank's words seemed to cool Dean's temper slightly, but not completely. He turned his attention back to Bobby, still waiting for an answer to his question.
"I just...put her to sleep, so to speak," Bobby offered gently as he sank down onto one of the chairs.
Dean dropped to his knees beside the couch and frantically checked Fiona's pulse and respirations. "She's barely breathing!" He shouted in panic.
"Yeah? Well, last I checked, 'barely' was better than 'ain't'," Bobby countered before sighing and adding, "She ain't dead yet, kid. That was a spell to stop things in their tracks. She's just sorta...suspended for now. Not gettin' better, but not gettin' worse, either. Oughta buy us a little more time."
Dean closed his eyes. He fought to slow his thundering heart and clear the red from his vision. She was still alive...they had a little more time to work with...
"How long?" He asked in a strained voice.
"A day? Two maybe?" Bobby offered with a shrug. "This ain't exactly my realm of expertise, ya know? Usin' spells instead of stoppin'em. But...desperate times and all that."
"Why is this happening so damned fast?" Dean demanded angrily, using his trembling fingers to carefully brush aside a strand of hair from Fiona's sweaty brow. His fury was desperately seeking a target. As if it was someone's fault - someone he could beat into submission in order to save her. "I thought she said it was supposed to take a week before the venom was fatal!"
"Guessin' she didn't read the part about most of that week bein' spent in a coma," Bobby commented quietly. "I figured it might be coming - 's why I got that spell ready to try. Figured if she was gonna be unconscious any way, might as well prevent the damage from spreading any further."
The sound of Sam's phone receiving a message saved Bobby from Dean's response.
"Ash just emailed me," Sam announced as he scanned the message.
In response to Dean's curious look, Bobby offered, "Need all the help we can get. Sam called Ellen a few hours ago."
Dean's nostrils flared as he scowled over at Sam.
Knowing exactly what was putting the gleam of rage-enshrouded terror in Dean's eyes, Sam spoke up quickly.
"I didn't tell them anything. Not about the Davies' curse. Not about you and Fiona. Definitely not about Gunner. I just said we needed help with a chimera bite," Sam insisted and added gently, "No hunters. I know, okay?"
Dean exhaled slowly at that and nodded, relieved that he didn't have to add another worry to the growing list. Finding a way to save the Mother of his child, in addition to protecting Fiona, Gunner, and Frank from every kind of supernatural threat until they could break the curse, was enough to deal with. If he had to worry about a band of rogue hunters showing up, too...? He knew he'd give his last breath to the effort, but there was only so much he could do.
"Ash translated a text from Ancient Greek," Sam offered. "It looks like there's an anti-venom."
"Anti-venom?" Dean repeated with a furrowed brow. "Don't they generally require a batch of venom to work with? Where the hell are we gonna come up with chimera venom?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know, dude, but it's something. And...not just any chimera, by the way," he added reluctantly. "It has to be venom from the one that bit her."
Dean blinked a few times, then turned and looked over at Frank, asking deadpan, "Did he leave his number with you? Can we call the ugly bastard and ask him to swing by?"
Frank snorted in response.
"Might have an answer to that..." Sam offered. "This says chimera track their prey indefinitely once they bite. Probably why the venom spreads the way it does - makes it easier to catch the scent once it hits the sweat glands."
"So, you think...?" Dean asked, his brows raising in surprise.
"It's stickin' around, close by," Sam agreed.
Dean took a deep breath, grateful for something to focus his rage on. "Then we're going to hunt ourselves a chimera. About fucking time," he declared.
"It'll be tracking Fiona. Her scent'll bring it running wherever we want it to go," Bobby said.
Dean's jaw flexed and his shoulders tensed in response. "She's staying put, right here, where she's safe."
With a sigh, Bobby said, "We can use her sweat, ya idjit." He motioned over to the towels beneath her on the couch before giving Dean a disbelieving look. "You ain't gonna be no use to any of us if you don't pull your head outta your ass," he chided. "Nobody here's gonna let anything happen to that girl, if we can help it. Nobody's gonna put her in danger and nobody's gonna do anything without your knowledge. What the hell's got you all worked up where she's concerned, anyway?" He asked before adding determinedly, "And, you just know I gotta ask, what the hell led to you messin' around with a teenager in the first place?"
Dean's eyes practically glowed with rage before he ground out, "I'm gonna go get the bags ready."
After taking one final devastated look at Fiona, another at his son, he turned and stalked out of the room.
Bobby arched a brow at his retreating form and winced when a door in the distance was slammed.
"What's all that about?" He muttered.
Sam and Frank exchanged a look.
Catching it, Bobby asked angrily, "Someone want to bring me up to speed here?"
A/N: Time to share those feels, ladies and gents! Let me know what you think so far. Hate it? Love it? Favorite part? Can you see it as you read it? Want more?