Inhaling deep, Dean wakes up to the sound of barking. It's distant but it's not quite as far away as the barn like normal when Cass barks.
But then he remembers Cass stayed in Ellie's room last night. She's been dying to get Cass to live inside with them and after the Christmas day she gave Sam and him, he couldn't possibly say no.
"Dang it, Ellie," Dean complains as he gets himself out of bed. The barking isn't stopping and there's no way he'll sleep through that. Time to get up.
Dean throws on some clothing, pulls his boots on to keep his feet warm in the winter, and heads out of his room while wiping his eyes with one hand.
"Mornin'," Sam greets through a yawn as he leaves his own bedroom, catching Dean at the top of the stairs.
"Howdy," Dean grumbles and heads down to the first floor, Sam following. "I take it Cass done woke ya up?"
"I take it he did the same to you."
"Yessum," Dean says and heads for Ellie's room. "Guess this Cass-livin'-in-the-house thin' ain't such a good idea after all."
"Not if it ends up like this," Sam comments and looks outside at the lightened morning. Must be at least seven. "Ellie ain't up yet?"
"Guess not," Dean says as he finds the kitchen empty. "How she sleepin' through all that racket Cass be makin'?"
"No idea," Sam comments, a hand running through his too long hair as he heads for the stove. "I'mma start on the coffee."
"Good idea," Dean comments as he stands in front of Ellie's door. He knocks three times quickly and calls in to her. "Ellie, ya awake?"
Cass starts going crazy, the door shaking has he jumps up onto it in a clear panic. That paired with no answer from Ellie makes Dean's heart start to pump harder.
"Ellie!?" he yells into the room, his fist pounding the door a few times.
"Dean?" her voice is barely audible over the ruckus of Cass and Dean's had it. He opens the door despite proper manners.
When he does Cass jumps up on him before pacing back and forth between he and Ellie, his moves nervous and skittish. Dean takes one look at her and he knows something is seriously wrong.
"Ellie!" he says her name again and rushes to her bedside, looking down at her with total alarm. "Ya ill?"
"Think so," Ellie says, her eyes hollow and red, her skin pale and clammy looking, and there's a sheen of sweat over her skin.
"Damn," Dean whispers to himself in a true panic for a second as she starts to have a bout of dry coughing. He just stands there and sees her heavily lidded eyes looking to him. He has to do something. He presses a palm to her forehead and grows scared. "Dang it, El. Ya burnin' up. Sam!"
"Don't bother him," Ellie says quietly as Cass sits by her bed, his chin resting next to her head on her pillow as he looks at her and whines. "Ya'll just leave me be. It's just a little coryza."
"It more than that, darlin'," Dean says and quickly once more yells for, "Sam!"
"What?" his brother asks as he runs to the room. He takes one look at Ellie and gets it. "Oh, Ellie. Ya sick."
"You boys… ya not… ya'll should just go home," Ellie says as her eyes slip closed.
"Go home?" Dean asks, kneeling next to her bed and looking at her with total concern. "Ellie, we home right now."
"No, no. Your home. Down wit the lake an'… fire." Her eyes remain unfocused and wandering.
"She's gone delirious," Sam comments, reaching over Dean to feel her forehead. "We gotta git that fever down now."
"The snow?" Dean questions with wide, scared eyes on his little brother as they try and help the woman in their employ.
"Grab her arms," Sam says quick as he pulls the bedding off of her body. Sam grabs ahold of her legs and Dean scoops his arms under her shoulders.
"Ellie, ya hear me?" Dean asks, ignoring the fact that his own voice is shaking with fear.
"Jackson, let me sleep," she says to him, her mind completely scrambled with intense fever.
"I ain't Jackson, sweetheart," Dean kindly returns as he walks with Sam out of her room and towards the back door. "We gonna git that fever down. It ain't gone be none too pleasant but we gotta."
"Ya takin' care of me?" she asks, eyes rolling up unfocused to see him above her. "Gonna get rid of my sickness an' make me better?"
"Yeah, El. Stay wit me, huh?" Dean asks of her, needing her awake so he can see how she is.
"I'm not gonna leave ya," she tells him and smiles oddly. "I never wanted to."
The freezing cold winter air bites their faces the second they open the door. It took Sam three shoves with his shoulder to get the door open as the snow drifts have covered it a bit. A few steps back from the door and Sam looks to his brother. "Put her down slow."
They lower Ellie to the ground, settling her into the white powder, and Sam immediately starts scooping snow up and placing it on her feet and legs that hang below her sleep dress.
Dean copies, pushing snow over her neck and chest before pushing her hands into the powder.
Ellie's eye glance around her lazily, her energy nowhere to be found for a good minute… right up until the cold finally reaches hers.
"Oh!" Ellie cries out when the burn of the freezing snow hits her like a punch to her entire body. She sits up sharply and hollers out in pain. "No! Oh! Dean!?"
"Ellie, stop!" Dean calls out to her and sits behind her, his arms around her scrambling body. "I got ya. Stop it, now," he soothingly says to her right by her ear as he watches Sam press her legs down by the ankles to keep her in place. "Listen ta me. I know it's cold but ya got ta be here a lil' longer."
"It hurts," she all but cries with the pain of the biting sting, her body still struggling against him with what little energy she has. "Dean, please…"
"Yer fine," she says, hugging her in with an arm around her shoulders'. He sits behind her, his legs to either side of her body, and he settles her back against his chest. "Relax now. Easy, darlin'. Ya gonna be fine. Trust us."
She shivers once hard in his arms but stays put, trusting that they're actually helping her.
"I'm sorry, Ellie. But I gotta," Sam preemptively says before repacking her legs in the snow.
Dean takes the hint and digs her hands into the snow again, his own skin not even registering the freezing cold due to his fear and adrenaline pumping. Seeing her like this is just awful. He'd so much rather it be him.
"It still hurts," Ellie says in a small, choked voice as her body violently shivers once more. Out of sheer need for comfort Ellie's right hand twines into his under the snow.
"I know, El," Dean says back, his hand gripping hers right back. He brings his free hand to her forehead and tucks her head under his chin as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I know. Ya gotta be tough now. An' I'm right here. Ain't gonna leave ya. We gonna be cold together."
"She's still real warm," Sam says as he comes out of Ellie room to meet Dean in the kitchen just out of earshot. "And she ain't talkin'."
"But it ain't too bad, right? It better?" Dean need to know. They kept her out there for a good five minutes in the bitter cold, her temperature dropping to something more manageable. She's also more with it now, able to carry a conversation without total confusion but the delirium is still there.
"It's better fer now but somethin' ain't right with her," Sam has his hand son his hips as he tries to think. "This is bad, Dean."
"How bad?"
"I think it might be typhoid fever maybe," Sam drops the bomb of what he thinks is happening to her. "Could be consump…."
"Don't ya say that!" Dean sharply stops Sam with the fear he has for that terrible word and the terrifying sickness. "It ain't that!"
"Could be," Sam painfully comments, needing to be prepared for anything.
"It ain't!" Dean refuses with anger.
Sam just nods in return and takes a deep breath. "We're gonna need some help here."
"Dang it, it's happenin' again," Dean whispers to himself as he wipes a hand down his face, seeing history repeat itself right in front of him yet one more time. "What ya think, we needin' the doc?" He knows doctors aren't normally called for anything like this. They're around for injuries and gunshot wounds, not sickness as there isn't normally anything to do for it. But they're scared.
"I don't know…"
"Well, if she gonna git worse I ain't gonna know what to do," Dean reminds his brother.
"Me neither," Sam admits, not having had to deal with this before now. "What do we do?"
Sam just looks at Dean for a second and thinks it through. If they sit on this and just keep watch then she could get better. But if she died and they never went to look for help they'll feel guilt beyond anything they've felt before.
Without saying a word, Sam moves upstairs to his room. He heads immediately to the drawer in the small dresser, pushing aside the few folded shirts in it to get the large leather satchel hidden there. He opens it up and grabs several coins before putting it all back.
"Take this," Sam says to his older brother, pressing the five silver coins into his palm. "Should be more 'an enough to git Doc Robert out here."
"Out here!?" Dean asks with wide eyes as Sam runs around, gathering all their warmest clothing.
"Go an' fetch him," Sam says without hesitance. "Bring 'em here an' have him check her out. He'll know what ta do."
"He ain't gonna come out this way…."
"Ya know how ta treat her?" Sam counters as he stands in front of Dean, looking at him with challenge.
"Well… nah…."
"We ain't gonna let her die in there," Sam says with certainty. "We ain't gonna lose another."
Dean nods absently, understanding what his brother is saying. Dad lost mom. Sam lost Jessica. They aren't losing another good woman to sickness. Not on their watch.
"Them horses always liked ya better anyways," Sam explains.
"I ain't no giant," Dean comments as he pockets the money and starts grabbing the clothing, putting on layer after layer.
"So you go an' git Doc Robert an' I'll stay put. I'll watch her." Sam starts helping get Dean together, grabbing his boots and an extra blanket. "It ain't snowin' right now but it don't look good fer later so you gotta travel fast."
"The roads're snowed over," Dean worries aloud, getting bundled up.
"Then hopefully a wagon's been by an' ya can travel along the tracks. Just get there an' bring the doc back."
"I'll give it a try," Dean answers.
"Don't try, Dean. Ya gotta do this," Sam tells him, running to the stove to wrap up some bread for the trip that could be long with the weather conditions. "I'll git her some water an' try an' git her talking again. Hopefully she ain't delirious no more."
Dean nods and finished putting every layer he can manage on. Right when he's ready to leave he pauses, looking towards the open door of Ellie's room. He can see her face, expressionless and pale. Her hair's matted with sweat and her eyes are only half open. He suddenly has a strong urge to stay, to be by her side and comfort her any way he can, instead of leave.
"She'll be fine. I'm here. Now git!" Sam says, pushing Dean out to the back door.
The second he hits the snow covered ground in his heavy boots Dean's back into the plan. His mind switches into panic mode and he's off and running for the barn, ready to get Spyder hitched up and on the road.
Over two hours after leaving the farm, Dean finally arrives at Doctor Robert's house on the other side of Sioux Falls town. He rode through the street, people still about even in the winter, and ignored every hello he got. He just wants to get the doctor back to his house as quickly as possible so he can see Ellie. Nothing matters past that.
Coming up to the small cabin he knows as the doctor's, Dean jumps off of Spider and runs for the front door, immediately pounding on the heavy wood with a tight fist the second he reaches it.
"Doc Robert!" he shouts out loud in a panic. "Please tell me yer home! Doc!"
"Dang it," he hears a voice complain as the door pulls open. "What in Sam Hill… Mister Winchester?"
"Doc, ya gotta come wit me!" Dean pleads right away, his voice panicked. "It's Ellie. She needs yer help…."
"That pretty girl ya got workin' on yer farm?" the doctor asks, ironing out what the clearly overly worried man says as he goes.
"She sick," Dean rushes out. "She real sick an' Sam an' me don't know what ta do. I need ya ta come wit me…."
"In this weather!?" he questions. "You done lost yer head, boy?"
"But she need yer help!" the farmer begs out further, repeating the same thing over and over. "Me an' my brother, we ain't smart 'bout sicknesses like you."
"Just give her time," Doctor Robert waves off. "If she's sick then there ain't a whole lot ta do past waitin' it out an' seein' what happens…."
"No!" Dean calls out, pushing a hand to the door to stop it from shutting when the doctor attempts to close it. "We need ya! She needs ya!"
The doctor sighs heavily, his hand scratching at his white hair. "Son, I know ya had some troubles in the past wit sickness in yer house. But not every bout 'a coryza is some deadly situation."
"She's ain't talking," Dean starts to really spell it out, forcing his demeanor to calm in order to give a true picture of what they're dealing with. "She ain't moving in bed, just lying there. She gone delirious an' Sam an' me had ta bury her in snow to git her fever down but it just goin' up again. Doc, we don't know what we're doin'." He reaches into his pocket and grabs the five coins Sam gave him, a hefty amount of money from their savings. "We're willin' to pay ya fer yer help an' fer comin' out ta our farm."
He hands the money over, the doctor's eyes lighting up with surprise at the amount. "Ya that worried 'bout her that ya willin' to spend this kinda coin?"
"Yes," Dean says, the certainty in his voice strong. "We done lost enough. We ain't losing her too. Sam feels the same."
The doctor stands there and thinks hard, looking inside the warm house longingly for a moment. He then sighs. "Ya go git ready to leave. I'll be prepared in a short fix."
The doctor disappears into the house again and Dean relaxes just a bit, relieved to have real help. He just needs to get back to her quickly, knowing that Sam can't be having an easy time alone and the longer they don't know how to treat her the worse her fate could be.
"Ellie?" Sam calls out her name for the hundredth time as he sits in a chair from the dinner table that he brought next to her bed. She hasn't moved since they brought her back in from the snow and put her back into bed. It was awkward when they needed to swap her wet clothing for a dry set, the improperness of two grown men having to do that just wrong, but they did it without thinking. She needed help and they went into an unthinking place to give her what she needed. They honestly weren't looking anyways.
And now Sam sits and waits. Hours have passed and Dean's not back yet. Ellie's said nothing, hasn't even moved, and she's getting very warm again. And the one farmer still left in the house hasn't stopped worrying for a second. The minutes tick by, his heart pounds harder, and he checks her forehead once more.
"Dang," Sam whispers to himself, his knee bouncing a mile a minute. She's as hot as when they woke up. Her fever won't stay down.
Running his hand through his hair, Sam looks at Cass as he lays across the foot of her bed. He's eyes keep shifting around but always land on Ellie at some point, his voice whining softly with his worry. He knows something is very wrong with her and his loyalty has him very much disturbed.
"Mm," Ellie moans in pain as her eyes close and her head rolls a bit to the side.
"Ellie?" Sam asks, trying to get her attention as this is the most movement she's made in almost four hours.
"No… stay…."
"Damn it all to hell," Sam complains as he stands up, ready to bring her back into the biting South Dakota air and bury her in snow again. She flailed so much last time he hopes he can hold her down himself once out there.
"Stay here…."
"Ellie, we gonna have to git you in the snow again," Sam warns her as he pulls her blankets back. "I know you ain't gonna like it…."
"Cas… tiel...?"
Her eyes open and look up at him as he digs his arms under her to carry her.
"Who?" Sam questions as he lifts her up, her small and unmoving frame far too easy to lift when she's still.
"He'll save me," her voice quietly explains to Sam, eyes rolling back a bit. "Save me. Fix me."
"Who will?" he questions, getting to the back door quickly with Cass on his heels, barking nervously.
She smiles very slightly, the best she can manage. "My… angel…."
"This ain't good at all," Sam worries out when she makes no sense what so ever. He opens and walks through the door into the thankfully still calm weather. "Ellie, this ain't gonna feel too good. You stay still fer me."
Sam kneels to the snow and places her down gently, waiting for the panic to happen again. When it doesn't and her eyes stay heavily lidded and her voice silent, the true fear starts to hit him.
"Sam!?" he can hear Dean's voice call to him from inside the small house and Sam finally lets out a breath he's been holding since his brother went out to find the doctor.
"Dean!" he calls back through the open door he's only feet from. "Come back!"
In seconds, Dean's rushing towards them. "What happened?"
"That fever went right on up again," Sam explains, packing her bare feet into the wet snow. "She was delirious again too. Talkin' 'bout angels savin' her an' whatnot. She's all balled up."
"Dang it," Dean complains, dropping to the snow without a second thought to help out. He starts to bury her arms in snow when her eyes open and lock onto him.
"Dean?" she asks, her face showing recognition with a bit of struggle.
"Howdy, Ellie," Dean smiles despite his fears in order to keep her calm. "Ya alright in this snow?"
"What snow?" she questions and Dean can feel his heart drop. She's so sick.
"It ain' nothin', darlin'," he keeps his fake smile bright for her. "How ya feelin'?"
"I'm mighty tired, Jackson," she says to him, her mind getting confused with how warm her fever has gotten.
"Aw, I ain't Jackson, El," Dean hates to tell her since her voice grew so soft and loving.
"I missed you," she tells him, smiling very slightly.
Dean ignores her words, not sure what to say. Instead he just keeps working to put more snow on her and get her delirium down.
"I love you, dear," she says to him, looking right into his eyes and making Dean feel worse than ever.
"Ellie, I ain't Jackson," he explains once more.
"I know."
"I'm thinkin' ya don't."
"Dean. I know yer Dean."
He pauses and looks down at her bright brown eyes. She knew it was him? No, she's not thinking straight at all.
"Ya just relax, Ellie. Don't go talkin' too much."
She listens and stops speaking, instead leaning her head against his leg as he sits close.
"How long ya been out here?" Dean asks Sam and moves on from the odd moment.
"Just got here when ya arrived. The doc here?"
"Yessum," Dean answers, plunging his hand into the snow to find Ellie's. He grabs it immediately and holds on tight, just like the first time they did this right when they woke up. She grips back but it isn't nearly as hard as before. "Guess we waitin' a tick then," Dean says to Sam as his free hand presses to her forehead, the skin still warm.
"Try an' keep her dry for the time bein'," Doctor Robert starts out once Ellie's back in bed and wearing the last of her dry night clothing. Her other two sets are hung over the rocking chairs by the roaring fire to dry out or on a line they strung in her room. "If she need to be cooled down again don't put her in nothin' already damp when done."
He opens his medical bag and pulls out his stethoscope.
"What ya think it is?" Dean questions, his own clothing still wet as he stands at the foot of Ellie's bed, nothing but concern written all over him.
"Patience, my boy," the doctor says as he starts to listen to Ellie's chest. After a few moments he tells Dean what he finds. "It sure as rain ain't consumption."
Dean's shoulders drop and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment, the relief massive. Consumption has taken the two women the Winchester men loved the most. It ruined their family, ruined their faith… but it isn't ruining anything else.
When his eyes open again he sees that Doctor Robert is looking down Ellie's nightgown from the neck.
"Whoa! Ya lookin' for a show on the sly?" Dean gets angry awfully quick.
"No, Mister Winchester, I am not," the doctor responds as he observes her skin. "I am a man of medicine doin' what ya paid me ta do."
Dean nods to himself and looks away, wanting to kill himself for the weird moment. The hell was that? Jealousy?
"Well, I'm thinkin' I know what she got here."
"What?" Dean asks, Sam coming into the room after changing into dry clothing himself.
"We lookin' at Typhoid fever," he says with absolute sureness after seeing the spots on her skin. "That's why she not talkin'. This is stage two."
"Two!?" Sam asks. "Ya mean she's been sick before now?"
"Most certainly," Doctor Robert answers back. As he stands tall and puts away his stethoscope. "She been coughing lately?"
"Yesterday," Dean answers, his arms crossed over his chest as he listens.
"Any headaches."
"No…." Really, he's not sure.
"Stomachaches?"
"She ain't said nothin'."
"Well then, she ain't been honest," the doctor points out as he rummages through his bag. "This girl's been feelin' none too good for some days."
"She been lyin' to us?" Sam asks his brother and Dean doesn't answer. It's too much like Jessica. She lied too and waited too long. She isn't around because of that reason.
"She's gonna be out of it for some days," Doctor Robert explains as he places a tincture on a small table by her bed. He then lifts her night gown, making both men look elsewhere around the room nervously. The doctor then presses on certain areas of her abdomen, his brow lowering when she groans out lightly in her half-awake state. "I got a couple things ya boys are gonna need to keep an eye on."
"Shoot," Dean says, glancing back to see Doctor Robert pulling the blankets back over her.
"She got rose spots," he starts to explain. "They let me know fer sure it's Typhoid. An' her stomach is tender. That means adynamia. She been… frequentin' the pot?" He nods his head to the empty chamber pot on the floor.
"Uh… well, no…." Dean stutters out. "Not that we'd know…."
"Trust me, with Typhoid… you'd know," the doctor explains. "That mean she's backed right on up. When she corrects herself I suggest you keep on outta here. Ain't gonna be none too pleasant. She'll want her privacy."
Both men just nod with horrified faces.
"If her stomach start to hurt too much, gets real strong, then her adynamia has gotten worse. Pray that that don't happen."
"Why? What gonna happen if'n it does?" Dean questions with fear.
"Then… God be the only one able to save her," the doctor says. "She look fine right now, like she'll recover, but just be on the lookout if she falls into severe stomach pain. Come an' get me right away."
"We will," Sam promises.
"Fer now, ya need ta give her this," Doctor Robert says, handing Dean the tincture he took out.
"What's this?" he asks, looking at the brown liquid.
"That be Robert's laudanum," the doctor says with a big smile. "I came up wit it myself. It'll keep her comfortable an' bring down her fever possibly. An' help wit her delirium. Mix a droppers worth wit a little water once a day an' git her to drink it when she can."
"Thank ya, doc," Dean says, his face exhausted and long as he tries to smile at the man. "We appreciate ya makin' this trip."
"Explain that ta my wife," the doctor grumbles out as he packs up his bag.
"Uh, Doctor Robert… would ya want to stay the night?" Sam offers to him as he thinks the trek back to the doctor's house through. "The snow just picked on up again. Might be better to wait it out 'til tomorrow."
"Ya can take my bed fer the night," Dean offers as he walks to the chair Sam had been in and sits. "I ain't much in the mood fer sleepin'. Don't think I'll be getting' much tonight as it bein'."
"An' we got plenty 'a leftover food from yesterday," Sam tells him. "Ya gonna eat like a king if ya stay."
Doctor Robert just looks at him funny as he picks up his bag. "Why ya got left over food from yesterday?"
"Christmas," Dean says quietly, looking at Ellie's resting face with sheer concern. Just yesterday they had such a great day… and now?
"What are ya'll, pagans?" the doctor asks with wide eyes.
"No, no," Sam explains. "Ellie's from the East. Christmas is a Christian thing out that way. They make a lot 'a food an' give gifts… it's kinda nice."
"Well, if she a good cook then I'll take ya'll up on that offer," the doctor decides, the early afternoon already arrived. "Been a spell since I had me some real good cookin'."
Sam just laughs at the comment from the long married man, trying to lighten the mood in the house after seeing the crazed and absolutely frightened look on his older brother's face all day. "Come wit me. I'll set ya up nice an' then get to supper."
Ushering the doctor away for a moment, Sam leaves Dean right where he is… looking distraught and helpless in the simple wooden chair next to Ellie.
Keeping his eyes on her, Dean leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his clasped hands. She's completely out of it, her eyes half-mast and focus far away. Her expressionless face is eerie and uncomfortable as she's more likely than not going to have a very animated face on the average day. Her bright look paired with her usually happy disposition, even after losing her husband and her planned out life just eight months before, is something he's grown very accustomed to.
Sighing with his eyes closed, Dean just stays there for the time being. He wants someone watching her at all times and that someone should be him. After months of coldness that he's imposed himself out of self-preservation and need to keep her safe and alive, he owes her.
Clearly staying at arm's length didn't make much of a difference. She's still sick and he could still lose her.
And he had no idea before now how much losing her could actually hurt.
"Dean?"
Breathing in deeply as he comes to, Dean sits up tall in his wooden chair. His eyes fly open and look around, seeing that Ellie is still asleep and there's a small puddle of what he assumes is drool on her blanket where his head had been resting just a second before. He then turns to see Sam standing in the open doorway.
"Mm?" Dean questions, his brain waking slowly but surely.
"Ya alright?" Sam questions, taking a few steps into the room and looking over Ellie's sleeping form.
"I'm good," Dean tells his brother as he washes a hand roughly down his face to wake up. "She been sleepin' for a while now."
"How would ya know?" Sam huffs a quiet laugh that Dean ignores.
"I woulda known if'n she woke," Dean explains as he leans up a bit to press a hand to Ellie's forehead. "I'm thinkin' that Doc Robert potion be doin' a good job. She ain't cookin' no more."
"That's a good sign," Sam nods, happy to hear this. "An' if she's better then you can catch a wink or two."
"Nah," Dean waves his brother off, eyes tired yet he's too worried for rest. "I'mma just git some food. Should probably eat somethin'. I can stay wit her for the night. Make sure she alright."
"Ya don't have ta."
"I do," Dean says sternly and gets up out of his chair.
"Dean… sittin' here ain't gonna cure her."
"It ain't gonna hurt her neither," Dean pauses, looking square at his brother. "I ain't leavin' her alone. Not now."
And Sam gets it. He was right all along, even despite Dean's cold ways these past months. He did it on purpose. He cares about her a lot more than he's willing to admit.
So, as Sam walks away for the night, ready to retire to his room, he thinks it all over. Once they get Ellie back to good health, and they will do that, he needs to work on Dean and get him to realize what he has in front of him… before she's gone for good in April.
