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"Shut up! Shut your filthy lying demonic mouth. If anything happens to my boy… you will wish for the comforts of hell." One foot stepped closer to crossing the salt line between him and the demon possessed flesh.
"DAD!!!!!!!!!! ARRRRRRRRRRRGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHGGHH!"
His son's voice sounded more horrified than ever. The shrill of it sent visible chills down John's spine. The involuntary flinch filtered into his body, sending a loud message to his demonic foe.
"You mean HELL like that John… like the one burning in Dean's gut! Let's see if Dean likes hell first." The satisfaction oozed over her words. "Last chance, John. Think of this as a second chance at a good life. And an end to Dean's suffering. Tick Tock!"
Bobby managed to pick himself off the floor and was halfway to the open door, intent on kicking John's ass when the first of Dean's screams echoed. He had a catch 22 dilemma- John or Dean. He had never planned on facing this kind of choice. Figuring Dean needed both he and John at the moment, and since John was lost in his rage show down with a demon, his choice became clear. He skittered like the wind to the pained man.
Dean could barely hold back a bellow of pain as the burning misery gripped his entire body. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! He yelped a sound like a small injured animal- unable to stop a vocalization of pain or hold anything back. The utter malaise upon him seemed to engulf him with a crushing force.
"JOHN!" The perturb companion hollered. The yell was not needed. By the time Dean filled the silence with a second scream of pure torture; John slammed the door close in the laughing demon's face and rushed to his son.
"DEAN! I'm here! I'm here!
"JOHN!!!! Not nice… don't say I didn't give you a chance." An haute voice glibly teased, still unable to enter over the salt barrier.
"GREWRREWRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Dean body arched upward, bending in a strange U. His abdomen jutted in odd angles as if every nerve in his body was set on fire. Flopping from the bed to rise in the air several times, his body convulsed uncontrollably. His arms gripped his ribs tightly trying to hold himself together. "The PAIN…It's eating me ALIVE! ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHH!' The torment cannibalized his nerve endings, sending shards of stabbing pain to rub his frame raw.
"Dean, listen to me! Don't let some second rate demon bitch have the satisfaction. You have to fight this…keep on… come on, son. I know you are in there…HEAR ME! You hear me…I'm you FATHER! Fight IT, BOY. Lean into the pain, accept it, and let it pass."
"JOHN! Stop ordering him. Do you think he has control over this! He doesn't need some Jedi mantra to accept the pain! He needs his father."
"Screw you!" John hissed. "He needs to get out of here!"
"DADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!" Dean's wail gave little time for arguments. The gurgle in his throat stopped his screaming for a moment as a rasp of air shoved inside him. His arms grabbed around his tender ribs. The young hunter received another taste of what hell must be like: Pain, pain, and more excruciating pain. His body startled from toe to top- one jolt after the other, like an electrical shock applied through a knife cutting into the flesh, over and over again. A misery so stabbing it could be compared to sadist with an electric carver, slashing away, twisting and turning, grinning with delight as his victim squirmed.
Dean gripped his ribs tighter. His head wobbled unbalanced and is stomach grumbled and churned. It was as if every part of his body began to betray him. "Unnnnnnhhhh," He groaned. The burning cramps inside of him pulled his voice to rage in violent agonizing screams. "ARRRHHHHG…. GEWWW…. ARRRRRRRRRRHHHHHH… GRRRRRRRRR… DA…. DADDS …..SAMMMY…HELP ME…. ARRRRHG …UNNHH! Dean shot up in bed gasping for breath, his wide eyes scanning something unseen and unknown to the hunters beside him.
Caught by the two men, Dean's head flopped in between Bobby's and John's shoulders like a strange marionette- disjointed, tangled strings being pulled by some novice puppetmaster. The disjointed pained movements rocked his shell to ghastly portions until the shivering hunter was like a pale effigy of his normal self. The only normalcy was the thoughts that rolled consistently on his lips. Whispered half words mixed with shrieks and moans of torment. No matter what world Dean was lost in, two words always remained: Dad and Sam.
"Dean! Dean, I'm here!" he called several times, but his son was beyond hearing. Then he remarked quietly to himself, "I have lost too much already. I can't lose you too."
"Hang on kid. Just a bit more. We'll get you out of here soon." Bobby prompted as the feeling of being an interloper grew stronger than ever. However, his words were more for John's sake than Dean's.
"Dad……..hhhhhhhhmmmmmmm….arrrggggg…..Sammmy…."
John grasped his son's shoulder and guided him back with effort, attempting to not make the pain worse. "Easy… I'm here…Sammy's…..Sam is….….." John gulped. "It's okay!" His son's muscles, thick and rigid like concrete, felt as if they would crack under any pressure. A full fledge groan spilled out as he son leaned back. It was then John noticed that every muscle was flexed and alert with pain as if electricity set his son to spark in torment.
"DADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!! ARRRRRRRRJJJJRJRHHHHHHHHGGGG!" Dean curled his legs up to him, tears rolling down his haunted cheeks, and sobs racking his weak body. His eyes darted ferociously from the fever. Words pitched randomly from his mouth-full of pain and sadness. Lolling his head to the side, always searching,but his eyes showed no signs of recognition. "Sa…" he whispered. ARHHHHHHHH!!!!! His voice shook with a defeating, strangling force, which was stolen quickly by a fit of coughs.
John could take his eyes off of the terrifying form before him. His eldest son seemed to be dying before his eyes. He could barely form the words that slurred from his mouth. "Try not to speak, buddy." John heard Dean whisper back. He couldn't bear to hear the pleas and begging for an end to pain. Moreover, he couldn't bear knowing there was nothing he could do about it. "Bobby, he's leaving me!"
"No, he's not. We just have to help him…You can do this John. If you can face all that evil, you can find a way to keep him away from the brink. We just have to help him. Bobby had pulled out his handkerchief and was dousing it with some remaining holy water. He brought the cool cloth to Dean's brow. The sensation jolted Dean, but the comfort it brought was obvious.
"I…I…uh…" his inhalations started to come in quick pants. "Ungghhh hhhhhhh…." He shuttered and mumbled without any realization of what was going on. Dean shivered violently, which made the cooling of his body even more difficult. Pulse racing, blood pressure speeding, and a fever burning- all of them adding to the heat his body was producing. "S-Sam" Dean muttered, reaching out to open air. His voice was raspy and underlined with a pained groan. "Daddy help me…"
"I need you to try to relax." Bobby sputtered and coaxed.
Dean covered his abs with his right hand while his left dug into the crumpled sheets beneath him. Jagged, hard worked fingertips and fingernails dug into the tender flesh. Small rips and scratches opened raw, spilling scarlet as he dug the pained flesh off his abdomen. Bobby pulled the hand away, restraining any further source of injury. John followed suite with the left one. Still, Dean writhed uncontrollably from the pain, bucking as his arms held in place. The disturbing view of his feet contorting and digging into the bed mirrored throughout all of his appendages, muscles, and face. His frantic legs rapidly slid and kicked around on the cot. Second later, he tried to curl into a ball.
His face tensed in pain, a scream tearing from his lips. Green eyes asked or relief, hoping for the end of pain and rest. It looked as if he craved the finality of death. "ARRGHHHHH!" The screams became sobs and what few tears Dean could muster streaked. Beneath the heat, the sufferer's skin faded into pallor, and his eyes shone with exhaustion.
John looked on as his son lay in front of him, shaking in pain. Both men could tell Dean was in an unimaginable amount of torment, and it wouldn't be long before the fever took any hopes of saving Dean away. "I won't let you die… not like this…"
"We won't!" Bobby echoed. The scalding temperature burned the coolness from the cloth quickly, leaving the damp cloth tepid and useless.
"He's burning up. We got to get that fever down… We need more water. We're freaking surrounded by a storm and water and we can't get him what he needs!"
Both men looked disappointed, knowing the small amount of holy water in the flask would never be enough to cool the fire that held Dean.
"He needs me…Bobby, his chest is barely rising. He is struggling so hard…. " John sat back next to his son. "I'm so foolish…I can bring my son back with words and I can't let him suffer. He needs action and I'm going to spare him more pain." John released his son's hand and pulled his hand gun from his back.