Chapter Twenty-Four

Although Corinne had assured Sam that Dean certain hadn't been attacked, he still made sure to make extra precautions. Sam requested maximum security outside his brother's room, which the hospital graciously provided for him, to his surprise.

Amazingly, Dean didn't seem to mind the guard standing outside his door twenty-four seven. In Sam's opinion, he even seemed more…relaxed. He insisted he be taken off any 'pansy sedatives and painkillers', that he 'could handle a tiny bit of pain once in awhile'. That proclamation gave his nurses a good laugh, no matter how true it really was.

It had now been almost a week since Dean had had the breathing incident, and he hadn't uttered one more word about how it was Corinne's doing. She now didn't show up around him unless he was asleep, which Sam figured was the best thing to do.

Sam was sitting in the chair by Dean's bedside, which was where he'd been sleeping more than his bed the past couple weeks. His brother was currently sleeping soundly, for once looking as if he were at peace. Sam figured it was the absence of the nightmares, of course, and the fact that he had fallen asleep on his own accord as opposed to a sedative.

The two of them had been talking late into the night. The nurses had eventually stopped trying to make him leave after visiting hours were over. Maybe they sensed the bond that the brothers had.

They were simply conversing about normal everyday things…stuff that any person would talk about.

Dean soon began to tire, and he nearly fell asleep mid-sentence before Sam suggested he get some rest. What had amused Sam had been when Dean, leaning his head back against his propped-up pillow with his eyes shut, stubbornly shook his head and claimed that he wasn't tired.

Two seconds later, he was snoring lightly.

Sam's eyelids were now starting to droop. He was near to sleep, which caused him to let out a yell and nearly jump out his chair as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, there. You're gonna wake Dean." A familiar voice remarked.

Sam shot a glance at his brother, who restlessly shifted in his sleep and let out a sleepy grunt before lapsing back into peaceful unconsciousness. He met Corinne's blue gaze, and smiled a little. "Don't think anything's gonna wake that hibernating bear."

Corinne giggled. "Touche." She made her way over to Dean and adjusted his pillows so that he lay on his back instead of propped-up. Dean didn't even stir once. "So…" She mused as she fiddled with his covers. "What are you still doing here, Sam?"

"You know…" Sam sighed. "I just…don't really want to leave him."

Corinne turned back to him with a knowing expression. "Sam, I assure you…your brother will be completely fine. Go home and get some sleep. He's out for the night, I promise. Maybe you can even be back in the morning before he wakes up."

Sam inhaled deeply before nodding. "You're right."

"Okay. Then move along." Corinne said jokingly. "Drive home while you're alert. We don't want you getting in an accident because you fell asleep at the wheel." She nudged his shoulder, and he struggled to his feet.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He was out the door before Corinne could offer a response. She turned back to Dean and found his eyes open and staring at her in real, honest-to-goodness fear. He regarded her while still half-asleep, but, still, the terror was there.

"What do you want from me?" He whispered slowly.

Corinne creased her brow, biting her lip, yearning to tell him that she had done nothing. To assure him that she would never try to hurt him. When she'd heard from the doctor that he wouldn't see her anymore while conscious, she couldn't believe her ears. What had she done for him to think something so awful? But she couldn't question her boss, or Dean.

So she went with it.

"Shh…" She murmured softly, running a hand through his hair. "It'll be okay." If he were more alert, Corinne was positive he'd pull away. But this time he didn't. He was already slipping back into unconsciousness, and Corinne comforted him until his breathing was steady in the rhythm of sleep.

"Dean…" She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Whatever I did to make you fear me…" She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry."

The demon couldn't help but feel bad for Corinne. She hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of treatment from Dean. All she had ever wanted to do was help him recover. She never asked to be possessed by a demon who wanted to kill her patient.

But the demon didn't have the patience to pity her host for more than a short amount of time. She had problems of her own. Even the guard stationed outside Dean's room wouldn't allow her to give Dean any medication that wasn't previously cleared by him. That made it practically impossible to slip him a dose of strong poison.

If she didn't act soon, the older Winchester would escape from her clutches and she'd be forever haunted by this failure. The demon watched Dean sleep with a somber expression. She hated seeing him like this. So…relaxed, at peace. It made her feel even more like she hadn't succeeded.

But she would. In time.

"You're sure?"

Sam couldn't hide the relief in his voice. Doctor Birne shrugged and nodded. "Mr. Angus seems to be doing exceptionally well. I don't see any point in him remaining here. As long as you keep a close eye on him at home, he should be able to be discharged."

"Thanks, doc," Sam said quickly. "Really, thank you." He nearly stumbled down the hall to Dean's room. As he approached, however, a nurse was just leaving. She put a finger to her lips and gestured inside.

Sam dipped his head, understanding, and made his way into his brother's room. Dean was still asleep, lying on his back with his head angled towards the door and lips slightly parted. Sam moved to the seat at his bedside and sat.

He restlessly tapped his foot, anxious for Dean to wake up. But he simply waited, watching the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest. He sat patiently for awhile, just watching and awaiting the moment when the other hunter's eyes would open.

When they finally did, glazed with sleep, they met Sam's, who smiled.

"Guess what, man? You're getting out of here."

The blast of fresh air in Dean's face was everything he could have imagined. The minute he stepped out of the building, he stopped dead in his tracks and stood still. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin, feeling the wind.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Dean nodded in response to his brother's remark, but was broken out of his trance as he noted the exhaustion in Sam's voice. He met the younger Winchester's gaze and gave him the smallest, reassuring smile before speaking.

"Let's go home, Sammy."

Dean didn't speak for the majority of the car ride. He was too busy either staring out the window at the landscape or admiring each and every inch of his precious Impala.

"Oh, Baby…" He'd murmured as they approached the vehicle. "It's been far too long." Sam had chuckled as he watched his brother lovingly stroke the hood of the car he'd put back together too many times to count.

"You're quiet." Sam remarked now as he glanced at Dean, who was entranced with the outside world whipping past them. The other hunter looked at him and gave him a small shrug. "You almost forget what the outdoors looked like while trapped in that bed?"

"Nearly," Dean answered honestly. "Let's just say that the window in my room didn't have a great view." Sam huffed out an amused breath, but didn't have the energy to offer another response.

The two brothers lapsed into silence once again.

Sam pushed open the door to the bunker and Dean nearly shoved him away in an attempt to get inside. "Calm down, bro. The place is gonna stay put, I promise." Dean didn't answer, simply barging down the stairwell.

Sam followed more slowly, rubbing a hand across his eyes. Dean watched him come down from where he was seated at the table, concern on his face. "Why don't you hit it, dude? You look like crap. When's the last time you slept?"

"Well?" Sam asked with a chuckle. "Days."

"Then go on," Dean insisted, nodding in the direction of his bedroom. "I'll be fine." Sam bit his lip, clearly unwilling to leave his brother's side. "Man, seriously. I'm not sick anymore. My injury is nearly healed. The doc discharged me for a reason."

Sam dipped his head slowly, still thinking. "Well, okay. If you need anything, just call me."

Dean shook his head as the younger Winchester disappeared down the hall at an exhausted pace. "Knucklehead just doesn't know when to stop…" He mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. He sat back in his chair and swung his feet up onto the table. He could use a beer. He hadn't had alcohol in days.

Dean stood and made his way into the kitchen, where he found not a single beer, can or bottle. He leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers on the top. He was itching to take a spin in the Impala. Sure, he just had, but that was in the passenger seat.

He wanted to sit behind the wheel again.

Sam was passed out, he wouldn't care if Dean took Baby to the liquor store and back. If anything, he would appreciate it. He seemed like he needed a drink just as much as Dean did. He would only be gone for ten minutes at most…not even long enough for him to leave a note.

In a matter of seconds, Dean was slipping into the driver's seat.

Dean's fingers gripped the wheel of the Impala, smoothly turning it onto the next road. He couldn't help but allow a satisfied grin to form on his face. He loved moments like these, driving alone…it was just him, Baby, and the stretch of asphalt lying before him.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean started violently before rolling his eyes. So much for him, Baby, and the open road. "Cass." He greeted his friend, who sat rigidly in the passenger seat.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, considering." Dean answered without feeling. "Clearly the doc thinks I'm okay." They drove in silence for a time before Castiel spoke again.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Liquor store…Cass, did you want something?" Dean didn't mean to sound rude, but he was really craving some time alone in the Impala.

"Yes. To see how you were doing."

"Like I said, I'm good."

Castiel nodded. "All right." He took a breath before speaking again. "Watch your back, Dean. The disease may be gone, but with Crowley behind it all, you can almost guarantee that you are most certainly not in the clear."

"Yeah, I figured that." Dean responded. "But thanks for letting me know. And Cass…" He stopped his friend before he could go.

"Thank you. Again."

Something was wrong.

Sam's eyes snapped open as an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. He sat up suddenly and took a glance at the digital clock by his bed. It'd only been about twenty minutes since he'd passed out. He'd figured that he'd sleep for a week with the way he was feeling.

Apparently not.

Sam couldn't shake away the leaden feeling in his body. He shoved his feet back into his shoes and stumbled blindly into the hallway, his eyes so heavy that he could hardly see straight. "Dean?" He called out. No answer. He tried again.

Still, no answer.

Sam hurried into the main area where he'd last seen his brother. He checked Dean's room, the kitchen, the library, every place he could think of. Nothing. Panic wormed its way into his system and he dug his cell phone out of his back pocket, dialing Castiel without even thinking about where else Dean could be.

The angel picked up almost immediately. "Sam?"

"Cass." Sam choked out, breathing heavily. "It's Dean. I think he's missing. He's not anywhere in the bunker and—"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Sam furrowed his brows.

"Sam, calm down. Dean just went to the liquor store for a minute. He's fine, I just talked to him. Didn't he let you know he was leaving?"

"Uh…no, I was asleep, so I guess he couldn't. Sorry, Cass. I suppose I'm just paranoid about losing him after just getting him back." He laughed lightly. "I might sound crazy, but sometimes I'm worried I'm going to wake up and find out he's still comatose in that damned hospital."

"Doesn't sound crazy to me." Castiel remarked.

"Thanks, Cass." Sam said before disconnecting the call.

He hesitated before slipping the phone back in his pocket. Should he call Dean? Just in case? He nodded to himself and dialed his brother, pressing the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Sam lost count after that. He tapped his foot aimlessly on the floor, willing his brother to pick up. The same answering message Dean had had on his personal cell met his ears.

"This is Dean Winchester. Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."

His heart sunk. There was no use in calling any of Dean's other phones. He knew for a fact that he had just the one with him. He only took more than one when they went out on a hunt.

Dean not picking up wasn't a bad sign, Sam knew it. He'd be back soon if he only stopped by the liquor store.

All Sam had to do was wait.

Dean exited the liquor store, toting two six-packs of beer and a bottle of whiskey. He hadn't planned on buying the whiskey, but it had called to him from where it sat high on the shelf. It wasn't his fault that it did the same thing every time he went there.

Just as he was loading the beer and whiskey into the back seat of the Impala, a voice sounded from behind him.

"Hey, hot stuff." Dean shot a glance behind him before straightening and slamming the door. He peered in the direction the voice had come from. It spoke again. "I'm right here."

There was a glint of long blonde hair, and a pretty woman appeared before him, her brown eyes friendly. But there was something else in her gaze that Dean couldn't identify. His lips curled into a sly smirk and he looked her up and down appreciatively. Her appearance reminded him slightly of Jo Harvelle, he realized.

"Well, hello there." He greeted her, leaning against the side of the Impala.

She grinned a little before beckoning him with her index finger. She was slowly backing into the alley behind the liquor store. A small part of Dean told him to leave, but why would he want to? The chick was smoking.

Dean followed her into the alley, and she took his hand, leading him farther in. She shoved him roughly up against the wall and laced her hands behind his neck. "You are…"

"Irresistible?" He guessed, smirking.

"That's one way to describe it," She answered breathlessly. Her lips crashed into his with a passion that Dean hadn't felt in a long time. He sunk into the kiss without realizing it.

Dammit. He thought. I'm making out with another chick I don't know the name of. She stroked her hand through his hair. Aw, hell. Who gives a damn?

Just as he was beginning to enjoy the kiss, though, something he wasn't anticipating happened. The girl moved her hands from his hair to his shoulders and pulled away. Her brown eyes met his green ones, and she smiled widely, an evil light shining from her gaze.

"I've got you, Deano."

Before he even had a chance to react, she dug her nails into his shoulders and pulled him forward swiftly. And then the back of his head exploded with agony as it smashed full-force into the brick wall behind him.

He wasn't even able to cry out in pain before he crumpled to ground and the world switched from spotty to pure black.

Sam was in full-on panic mode. It'd been more than an hour since Dean had supposedly left for the liquor store. Sure, maybe he'd decided to go to the bar, but Sam still fished out his cell phone and dialed Dean's number again.

Again, multiple rings. The same answering message he'd had for three years or more now. Sam's heart traveled up to his throat. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and shot to his feet, heading up the stairwell.

He was going after his brother, whether he had to walk or not.