14

"Everything all set?"

"Yes ma'am. He's sleeping right now. He'll awaken in about twenty minutes and prepare for Sam's return."

"Excellent. You have served very well, Stuart. I'll be sure to put in a good work with the one who holds your contract."

They didn't bother driving the van back to where Stu's car was parked. Lucas just grabbed him by the arm and popped him there.

"Behave yourself, Stu. This better go down as planned or you may find that your contract has mysteriously been shortened."

"Lucas, I've done everything as discussed. The subject is primed and ready to kill, I promise you. If anything goes wrong after tonight, it's not my doing."

"You better hope nothing goes wrong. I'll have you know that it isn't our custom to leave witnesses. Do you understand my meaning?"

Stu swallowed nervously. "Fully, sir."

Lucas roughly shoved him toward his car. "I suggest you take your own advice and make yourself scarce."

Stu stammered. "Yes sir... I mean... I hear Florida is nice this time of year." Lucas popped out before he even finished. Stu checked his watch. Lucas had taken his damned time. He had already lost forty minutes, give or take. He had to get moving.

ooooOOOOOooooooo

Sam wrestled the grocery bag out of the car. Since they were staying a few more days, he took the chance to stop and get some fruits and vegetables. Dean might be able to live indefinitely on diner food, but he couldn't.

As he stepped up to the motel room door he heard a horn honk. Turning to scan the parking lot, he didn't see anyone or any cars he recognized. He slipped quickly and quietly into the room, in case Dean was sleeping, and turned to lock the door behind him.

When he turned back to the room he heard a growl and then Dean was there, lunging toward him with a knife. Thankfully Sam had turned when he did, otherwise the knife would have driven into his back. Instead it plunged to the hilt through his forearm just below his elbow.

Dropping the grocery bag, Sam gasped. "Dean! What the hell? It's me, man!"

"I know!" Dean growled and slammed Sam into the door, both hands wrapped around his throat.

Sam struggled with his one good hand to loosen Dean's hold to no avail. "What are you doing? What's gotten into you?" He gasped between wheezing breaths.

Dean's only response was to squeeze harder. Sam tried to bring his knee up to go for Dean's groin but couldn't get the room. Dean was right on top of him.

There was a pounding on the door behind him and he could faintly hear someone calling his name, but he was otherwise too preoccupied to pay any attention. In a move of desperation, he swung his long leg out behind Dean, curled it in, hooked it on his knees, and gave it a tug. It was enough to cause Dean to lose his balance.

Dean started falling to the side and stumbled backwards doing that hopping skip one will do to keep from falling. He bumped into the table and then fell, crashing into the chairs sitting there. The pounding happened on the door again and Sam realized it was Bobby calling from outside. He quickly turned and unlocked the door. Bobby came bursting in and slammed the door shut behind him. Sam reached behind him to lock it, not wanting unwanted guests when Dean seemed to be acting out of his mind.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a chair came sailing through the air. Both men threw their arms up to protect their heads and dodged to the sides, the chair flying between them and crashing against the wall behind them. Sam circled around toward the beds, hoping to get Dean between them. Dean, though, kept his eyes on Sam, paying no attention to Bobby.

"Dean? Boy, what has gotten into you?" Bobby tried to grab Dean by the arm as he passed, but his skin was slick with sweat and he couldn't get a grip.

Never taking his eyes from Sam he answered. "None of your business, old man. Stay out of this." Dean threw his arm out and, hitting Bobby, shoved him back toward the door.

Dean moved in on Sam and shoved him. Sam's legs hit the edge of the bed and he fell back on it. "Dean, you don't want to do this."

"Like hell I do." Dean chuckled. "You see what I did there?"

Sam looked at his brother in total confusion. He didn't know this person at all. Sam started crawling backward across the bed, away from Dean, as best as he could with one arm. "Dean, I don't know what's going on, but we can figure this out."

"Listen to him, Dean." Bobby was coming up behind Dean, hoping to grab him from behind.

"I told you Bobby," Dean turned and looked at him with a look of murder in his eyes that shocked even Bobby. "This is none of your business." Dean set his hands on the bed on either side of Sam's feet as he was scooting back.

"I'll be damned if it isn't my business." Bobby moved in and Dean kicked backward, connecting with Bobby's chest, sending him hurtling through the air. He crashed into the remaining chair and counter in the kitchenette, dropping to the floor.

"Dean! Stop this! What are you doing?!"

"Pretty obvious I thought." Dean grabbed Sam's foot and hauled him back across the bed. Crawling up onto the bed and straddling Sam, Dean smashed him in the face.

"Dean, I don't want to fight you. You're not in your right mind!" Sam bucked under him but couldn't throw him.

"Fine. That'll just make this all easier." Dean punched him two more times in the face, enjoying himself. It made Sam's stomach ill and his skin crawl. He started hearing pounding and he wasn't sure if it was his head or if there was someone else at the door.

"Dean please stop. Tell me what's going on." He had to get him to stop. If he lost consciousness, it was game over.

Dean came in for another punch and Sam whipped his good hand out and grabbed his fist. Dean growled, pulled his hand, and Sam's, down out of the way and brought in his left. With no other choice, Sam brought up his other arm to block it. Instead of his fist careening off his arm, Dean grabbed Sam by his wrist and looked at the knife in his arm. He then looked at Sam and the level of crazy behind his eyes scared the shit of him.

"Dean? No. Don't!"

Dean grabbed the handle of the knife and grinned down at him.

"Damn it, Dean! Stop!"

Dean yanked the knife out of Sam's arm causing a scream to escape his lips. The pounding turned to crashing glass. Maybe the cops were here? That would good for Sam... not so good for Dean.

Dean let out a low chuckle and brought the knife down toward Sam's heart. Sam threw his hand out and grabbed Dean's wrist. They both grunted with effort. Dean pushing down and Sam trying his damnedest to push up. Dean was winning. He had the leverage. Sam put his weakened arm behind it, pushing against Dean with both hands.

"Give it up Sammy." Dean put his other hand over the butt of the knife, knelt up on the bed and leaned his whole body into it. The tip of the knife pierced the skin of Sam's chest and he yelled out in pain.

"Scuttle fish!"

Dean stopped, knelt back, arms slack at his sides.

"Drop the knife."

Dean's hand loosened and the knife fell to the bed. Sam grabbed his bleeding arm and tried to see past Dean.

"Go lay down on the other bed."

Amazingly, Dean got up off of him and went over and lay down on the other bed. Sam now saw that the little balding guy from the bar was standing there. "Who are you?"

"The one that just saved your ass. I hope I don't regret it."

"What? What's going on here?"

"I'll explain later. Right now let me attend to Dean. You might want to check on yourself and your friend over there." Stu jerked his head behind him causing Sam to look past him and see Bobby sprawled on the floor.

As Sam went over to check on Bobby, Stu went over to the bed. "Dean, do you know who I am?"

"Stu."

"Am I a friend?"

"Yes."

"Am I here to help you?"

"Yes."

"Sam is not the target. You have been lied to. Agents of hell have used you." Stu could feel the heat radiating off of him. He reached out and felt Dean's forehead. He was on fire. "Shit. Shit!" Stu jumped and ran out of the room.

Sam watched him go. "Hey! What the...? Where are you going?"

Stu came running back in with one of those old fashioned doctor's bags. He rushed over to the bed and started rummaging through the bag. "Damn it! Where is it?" He upended the bag, dumping it's contents onto the bed.

By now, Sam had roused Bobby. He had put a towel to the gash on the back of his head and they had come over to the other bed and sat watching the display before them. Bobby looked down at Sam's bleeding arm. "Son, we need to..."

"Later." Sam's eyes were glued to his brother and the strange man before them.

"Ah ha! Here it is." He held up a syringe in triumph. As he said it, Dean started seizing on the bed.

"What's wrong with him? What have you done to him?"

"Later! Help hold him down! I need him still!"

Sam looked at Bobby who nodded back. They got up, injuries forgotten and helped hold Dean down. Stu knelt on the side of the bed and put his hand on Dean's chest. He looked like he was measuring something and then raised the syringe over his head. He brought it down, jamming it between Dean's ribs and into his heart. Dean's seizure seemed to get worse, Sam and Bobby could barely hold him. He then calmed down and passed out.

"Tell me what the hell is going on. Now." Sam never looked at Stu, but Stu felt the threat in his request all the same.

"The super short of it... Demons. Brainwashing. Drug cocktail. Adverse reaction. Dying." Stu threw his arms up to ward off the physical violence he was sure was coming. When no attack was forthcoming, he slowly lowered his arms and peeked around them.

Sam and Bobby looked at each other. "Demons. Guess you were right after all, Sam."

"Damn it. What did they want? Tell me the long story."

So Stu sat there and spilled his guts to them.

"There's no way in hell I would purposely help Lucifer out of the cage."

Stu looked at him in confusion. "Lucifer?"

"You said I would help let the most dangerous person in the world escape his cell. The short of it... Lucifer."

"And I agree." Bobby added. "There's no way Sam would help that to happen."

"Well, if I were you I would watch my back. Apparently these demons have already made attempts on your life and have failed. They seemed to think Dean was the only way to get to you."

Bobby looked thoughtful for a moment. "Gotta hand it to them. The idea was genius and it almost worked." He looked over at Sam whose arm was still bleeding and who had blood seeping through his shirt.

"What about Dean? Is he okay?"

Stu looked down at the sleeping form of his brother. "We'll see if and when he comes around. The shot I just gave him was my antidote, I guess you could call it. I gave him a triple dose of it. I hope it works. I kind of liked your brother."

"You hope it works?! You don't know?"

"Listen! Whenever anyone showed side effects from the drugs, we stopped the exercises. They wouldn't let me stop! I had no choice!"

"You always have a choice." Sam nodded at his brother lying on the bed. "He would've told you that."

Bobby touched Sam's arm. "Let's get you cleaned up."