Story Name: Pivot Point
Pen Name: ElenaRoan
Disclaimer: Don't own any of them, written purely for enjoyment.
Warnings:
Summary: What if Anna decided to derail the apocalypse by intervening to help rather than trying to make the brothers never having existed.
Timeline: Season 4
Note: I'm Australian and I can't bring myself to use USA spelling, sorry.
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Chapter 33: Imposed Anxiety
"We got anything?" Dean asked as he came in with breakfast and coffee. It was much more common for them to eat either in the impala or whatever motel room they were in lately, just from the purely more secure aspects.
"Lucy has landed on the wanted fugitive lists." Sam replied, "they're listing her as a master of disguise with uncertain sex and believed to be armed and dangerous."
"Kinda what we were hoping for." Dean noted, handing Sam's portions to him, "anything new?"
"Rock Ridge, Colorado. Three dead in three days, all of apparent heart attacks in otherwise healthy individuals."
"Sometimes heart attacks happen, even in clusters." Dean pointed out, "what makes you think this is us?"
"All were perfectly healthy, one was a marathon runner."
"Not exactly a high risk of heart attack. Okay, eat up. We'll get on our way once you've eaten."
It didn't take long before they were introducing themselves to the coroner as FBI agents, who promptly showed them the corpse in question.
"Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, meet Frank O'Brian."
"He died of a heart attack, right?" Sam asked.
"Three days ago." The coroner confirmed.
"But O'Brian was 44 years old and according to this a marathon runner." Sam pointed out.
"Everybody drops dead sooner or later." The coroner replied, "it's why I got job security."
"But Frank kicked it here." Dean inserted with a feeling the coroner wasn't particularly interested in doing his job, "just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee, all heart attacks. You don't think that's strange?"
"Sounds like Maumee's problem to me." The coroner returned, "why does the FBI give a damn, anyway?"
"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy." Dean replied, side stepping the question.
"What autopsy?" The coroner replied.
Dean barely restrained himself from sighing, "the one you're gonna do."
With a bit of grumbling the coroner moved the corpse into the examination area and began the autopsy in front of them. If he thought he would chase them away with the procedure he was mistaken.
"First dead body?" He asked as he cut into it.
"Far from it." Dean replied.
"Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe." The coroner returned, "hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?"
Dean handed over the requested tool without any confusion. While the coroner busied himself with the ribs Dean looked over the other marks on the corpse.
"Is that from a wedding ring?" He asked, spotting a pale area on the ring finger, "I didn't think Frank was married."
"Ain't my department." The coroner replied uninterested.
Sam picked up the hand Dean had noticed and indicated the various scrapes, "any idea how he got these?"
"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop." Came the disinterested answer, "body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh."
"What?" Sam asked.
"I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries." The coroner replied, then pulled the heart out, which did succeed in getting Dean to gag slightly, "heart looks pretty damn healthy."
The coroner handed the organ to Dean, "hold that a second, would you?"
Sam nearly laughed except something undefinable changed when the organ landed in his brother's hands. He was trying to figure out what and how to ask when the coroner did something that squirted some kind of fluid over his face.
"Oh, sorry. Spleen juice." The coroner said insincerely.
The autopsy didn't produce any further interesting results and they headed to the police department after Sam had cleaned the stuff off his face.
"You okay?" Sam asked once they were out of the building and away from prying ears.
"Yeah, why?" Dean asked looking at him worriedly, "your Spidey sense?"
"Yeah. But what I'm not quite sure."
"Okay. Let me know when you figure it out."
"Okay. You'll tell me if you notice anything?"
"Of course."
At the police department they had to wait for the sheriff to be available. Eventually the sheriff poked his head out.
"Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my…" He interrupted himself as he spotted the brothers as they rose to their feet, "who are they?"
"Federal agents, I…" Linus replied.
"And you kept them waiting?" The sheriff interrupted.
"You said not to disturb…" Linus protested and the brothers felt a rough sympathy for him; he couldn't win.
"Come on back, fellas." The sheriff said, waving them over. He stopped them at the door though, "shoes off."
Sam and Dean glanced at each other then toed off their shoes, it wasn't worth making an issue over his eccentricity, then followed him in in socks.
"Al Britton. Good to meet you." The sheriff introduced himself, shaking their hands. Again Sam felt that odd undefinable feeling.
"You too." Sam replied. Al waved them to a couple of seats in front of his desk, "thank you."
First thing the sheriff did as he sat down was slather hand sanitiser all over his hands.
"Okay." Al said, "so, what can I do for Uncle Sam?"
"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brian." Sam explained, "we understand some of your men found his body?"
"They did." Al confirmed, "me and Frank…we were friends. Hell, we were Gamecocks."
Dean laughed, the sheriff glared at him, and Dean schooled his expression.
"That's our softball team's name." Al told him almost defensively. Dean nodded in acceptance, "they're majestic animals."
He was silent for a bit as Dean tried to figure out what to say then continued, "I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was…he was a good man."
"Yeah. Big heart." Dean quipped and Sam shot him a glare.
"Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange?" Sam asked, "maybe scared of something?"
"Oh, hell, yeah." Al answered, "real jumpy."
"You know what scared him?" Sam asked.
"No. Wouldn't answer his phone." Al returned, "finally sent some of my boys over to check on him and…well, you know the rest."
The sheriff started coughing and they were treated to a repeat of his hand sanitiser routine once he finished.
"So why do the feds give a crap?" Al asked, "you don't really think there's a case here."
"No, no, it's probably nothing. Just a heart attack." Dean replied.
They excused themselves a short while later.
"No way that was a heart attack." Dean declared once they were outside.
"Definitely no way." Sam agreed, "three victims, all with those same red scratches. Went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours."
"So something scared them to death?" Dean asked.
"Alright, so what can do that?" Sam asked.
"What can't? Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra. Could be a hundred things." Dean returned.
"Yeah. So we make a list and start crossing things off." Sam replied. That undefinable feeling was getting stronger.
"Alright. Who was the last person to see Frank O'Brian alive?"
"Uh…his neighbour, Mark Hutchins."
Dean looked worriedly ahead of them, "hang on, hang on."
"What?" Sam asked, looking at his brother with concern.
"I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there." Dean told him and Sam looked at them. They looked like ordinary teenagers and his senses weren't indicating any supernatural creature.
"Let's walk this way." Dean declared and headed across the road before Sam could say anything.
Sam hurried to catch up, "dude? Are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine." Dean dismissed and led the way to the neighbour's house.
Said neighbour had quite a collection of reptiles and Dean watched them warily. Sam frowned, while they hadn't encountered many reptiles with their job he was sure a phobia of reptiles would have come up at some point, it wasn't like the creatures were rare.
"Tyler and Perry." Mark commented after they introduced themselves, "just like Aerosmith."
"Yeah, small world." Sam returned, "so the last time you saw Frank O'Brian…"
"Monday." Mark replied promptly, "he was watching me from his window. I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains."
"Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different? Um…scared?" Sam asked.
"Oh, totally. He was freaking out." Mark confirmed.
An alligator splashing in its enclosure distracted both brothers, Dean with nervousness and Sam with worry as he noted his brother's reaction. He was starting to get the bad feeling that his brother was the next target of whatever this thing was they were hunting.
"Do you know…uh…do you know what scared him?" Dean asked.
"Well, yeah. Witches." Mark replied.
"Witches?" Sam replied, that was certainly a possibility even if they hadn't found any hex bags so far and it didn't feel like the magic he'd encountered before, "like…?"
"Wizard of Oz was on TV the other night, right?" Mark elaborated, "and he said that green bitch was totally out to get him."
Sam and Dean glanced at each other; that just dropped down in the list as a more likely possibility.
"Anything else scare him?" Sam asked.
"Everything else scared him." Mark replied, "Al Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener, those PEZ dispensers with their dead little eyes. Lots of stuff."
"So tell me, what was Frank like?" Sam asked, noting as he did Dean looking around at the menagerie warily.
For the first time Mark looked hesitant to answer, "I mean, he's dead, you know, I don't want to hammer him but…he got better."
"Got better?" Sam pressed.
"Well, in high school he was a dick." Mark admitted.
"A dick?" Sam asked.
"Like a bully. I mean, he probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together…" Mark trailed off as Dean gave a small laugh, "mine included."
Dean schooled his expression. It wasn't truly that he found it amusing, he'd never been a bully after all, but neither he nor Sam had ever been subjected to stuff like that.
"So he pissed a lot of people off." Dean stated, "you think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?"
"Well, I don't…" Mark started then looked at them worriedly, "Frank had a heart attack, right?"
"Just answer the question, sir." Sam replied, banking on the whole 'response to authority' thing that was ingrained in society.
"No, I don't think so. Like I said, he got better." Mark returned forcefully, "and after what happened to his wife…"
"His wife?" Dean asked, "so he was married?"
"She died, about 20 years ago." Mark confirmed, "Frank was really broken up about it."
Ghost was looking like a definite possibility to Sam, especially as what he kept sensing had some aspects in common with what he normally sensed from ghosts.
Dean mulled that information over for a moment, then his attention was captivated by the large python draped around Mark's shoulders even though the snake hadn't moved significantly.
Mark noticed and laughed, "don't be scared at Donny, he's a sweetheart. It's Marie you gotta look out for. She smells fear."
He nodded at something over Dean's shoulder and the older brother abruptly became aware of another large python coming over the back of the couch.
Normally Sam wouldn't have worried about his brother in this sort of situation. Even dealing with a phobia he could get things done, yet this time he gasped and barely contained his reaction. Seeing the utter terror behind the mask Dean put up was more than Sam could sit still for and he carefully peeled the snake off his brother and handed it to the reptile enthusiast before excusing them and walking Dean out to the car.
"You okay?" He asked quietly.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Dean replied automatically.
"So being scared of reptiles is normal for you?" Sam pressed with his scepticism unhidden.
"I…" Dean shook his head, "I don't know, never really came up before."
Sam was willing to bet that it had never come up before because it had never been an issue before.
They headed back into town and split up, though Sam was hesitating on that. With how odd Dean was acting he didn't want to leave him alone. They didn't have a choice if they were time critical like he suspected.
It was dark when he returned to the impala where Dean was waiting for him. He noted Dean near jumped out of his skin when he got in the car.
"Any luck at the county clerk's office?" He asked without commenting on his brother's jumpiness.
"I'm not sure I'd call it luck." Dean replied, pulling out a printout of a news article, "Frank's wife, Jessie, was manic depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over, strung up in her motel room. Suicide."
"Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?" Sam asked, at least Dean was acting mostly normal right now.
"No, Frank was working a swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi." Dean returned.
He started up the car and started heading back to the hotel, "how was Frank's pad?"
"Clean. Searched it top to bottom, no EMF, no hex bags, no sulphur. Not even the vague sense I've been picking up since we started investigating." Sam returned.
"So probably no ghost, no witches, no demons." Dean concluded, "three down and 97 to go."
"Yeah." Sam agreed, he noticed they didn't seem to be going as fast as Dean normally drove and glanced over at the speedo, "dude, you're going 20."
"And?" Dean asked and Sam felt his worry ratchet up another notch.
"That's the speed limit." Sam noted, not that it was a bad thing just quite atypical for his daredevil brother.
"What? Safety's a crime now?" Dean asked and Sam decided not to push his brother until him going into a panic attack wouldn't create problems. Until Dean drove past the hotel anyway.
"Where are you going? That was our hotel."
"Sam, I'm not gonna make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal." Dean returned, talking at a much faster clip than normal.
Sam looked at him alarmed and only half noted that the EMF detector he'd forgotten to turn off was going off for a moment.
"Did I just say that?" Dean asked, sounding a little bit more normal, "that's kind of weird."
"You hear something?" Sam asked, the sound from the EMF detector finally registering. He dug out the detector and saw with more than a little alarm that it went off when it got close to his brother.
"What the hell?" Dean asked, looking at the device with obvious mounting fear, "am I haunted? Am I haunted?"
Sam switched the device off fast, "okay, let's just get to the hotel. We can figure out what's going on once we're there."
"But…" Dean sounded a hair's breadth from a full blown panic attack.
"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out." Sam told him as reassuringly as he could. He mentally noted what time it was and realised it was too late to give Bobby a call, he'd have to call in the morning.
Somehow he managed to coax Dean into the hotel carpark then up to their room and finally into sleeping.
Sam sent Bobby a message then next morning he called him as he grabbed breakfast for both of them. Bobby did manage to id what it was, unfortunately he didn't know how to fix it off the top of his head.
"Yeah, alright, Bobby. Keep looking." Sam finished as he returned to the hotel. His steps slowed as he registered music coming from the impala.
He was surprised on approaching the car to find Dean lying in the front seat air drumming along to the song, he'd left his brother in the hotel room.
Dean sat up with a gasp when Sam banged on the roof to get his attention.
He turned off the music and climbed out, Sam did not like the naked fear showing on his face.
"Dude, look at this." Dean exclaimed, showing him the beginnings of the red marks on his forearms.
"I just talked to Bobby." Sam told him.
"And?" Dean asked, still sounding just short of panic.
"Well, you're not gonna like it." Sam answered, handing the doughnuts to Dean and was surprised and even more concerned when his brother just tossed them into the car.
"What?"
"It's ghost sickness." Sam explained.
"Ghost sickness?" Dean asked.
"Yeah."
"Oh, God, no."
"Yeah." Sam was quite sure his brother actually had no idea what that meant.
"I don't even know what that is." Dean admitted a moment later.
"Okay. Some cultures believe spirits can infect the living with disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies and started taking them to funeral homes." Sam explained.
"Okay, get to the good stuff." Dean instructed, at least being given information was calming him down.
"Symptoms are: you get anxious, then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out." Sam told him, "sound familiar?"
"But we haven't seen a ghost in weeks." Dean protested.
"I doubt you caught it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects that first person ghost sickness can spread like any sickness. Through a cough, a handshake. It's like the flu." Sam explained, wondering how much was actually being comprehended by his brother. Normally he wouldn't worry about that but his brother was definitely struggling, "now, Frank O'Brian was the first to die which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero."
"Our very own outbreak monkey." Dean declared and Sam was glad for the indication his brother was following him.
"Right. Get this. Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims." Sam continued.
"Were they Gamecocks?" Dean asked.
"Cornjerkers." Sam replied.
"So a ghost infected Frank, he passed it on to the other guys, and then I got it from his corpse?" Dean asked.
"Right." Sam confirmed.
"So now what? I have 48 hours before I go insane and my heart stops?" Dean said, fear starting to resurface.
"More like 24." Sam replied reluctantly.
"Super."
"Yeah."
"Well why me? Why not you? You got hit with spleen juice." Dean demanded, though he'd have been demanding why it wasn't him if Sam had been the one infected.
"Yeah. See, Bobby and I have a theory about that too." Sam told him reluctantly, "turns out all three victims shared a certain…personality type."
Dean looked at him confused and Sam continued, "Frank was a bully, the other two victims one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer."
"Okay."
"Basically, they were all dicks."
"So you're saying I'm a dick?" Dean asked sounding hurt and offended.
"No, no, it's not just that." Sam hastened to explain, "all three victims used fear as a weapon. Now this disease is just returning the favour."
"I don't scare people." Dean insisted.
"Dean, all we do is scare people."
"Okay, well, then you're a dick too."
"Apparently, I'm not."
"Whatever. How do we stop it?" Dean demanded.
"We gank the ghost that started all this." Sam told him, "we do that, the disease should clear up."
"You thinking Frank's wife?"
"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" Sam watched as his brother took a breath, focusing on the direction they had for what to do, "hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?"
"Our room's on the fourth floor." Dean explained looking embarrassed, continuing when Sam looked at him blankly, "it's high."
Sam sighed as it clicked what the issue was, "I'll see if I can move us down to the first."
"Thanks." Dean told him.
"Sure." Sam replied feeling quite disconcerted by the naked gratitude being directed at him by his big brother.
Dean hopped back in the impala while Sam headed into the hotel office.
"Hey, I'm sorry to ask but is it possible to move us from the fourth floor down to the first?" He asked hesitantly and the manager looked at him suspiciously.
"What's wrong with the room?"
"Nothing's wrong with the room. Just my brother has a phobia of heights, he's been doing really well with it but had a scare when we were out last night and can't cope right now."
"Oh the poor dear." Her maternal instincts abruptly switched on, "no problem, I'll get that sorted right now."
A few taps on the computer later and she handed him a new key, "just return the other when you have your things moved."
"Thank you." Sam replied genuinely then headed up to grab their belongings and clean up the salt before the cleaners noted it.
Once in the new room he quickly laid out the salt lines and the sigil fortifications in black light pen. Then he collected his brother from the car and walked him to the room. He did a double take at his brother when Dean sat on the couch despondently.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked gently.
"I don't wanna be a dick." Dean replied and Sam sighed, he should have realised how his brother would take that statement in his current state.
"Dean, it's a ghost remember. They're not known for being able to see shades of grey. Remember Bloody Mary? Charlie couldn't have done anything about her boyfriend's death but it was enough for Mary. And the ghost ship, it was an accident that killed Shelia's cousin but it was enough for that ghost simply because she was driving." Sam told him, "this ghost is focused on fear used as a weapon but it's missing the reasons behind it. Sure Frank was a bully, but bullies aren't the only ones to use fear as a weapon and those who use it to protect, like you, are just as vulnerable. I'd guess police are just as at risk."
"Oh." Dean replied and was silent in thought for a moment, "hey…what about that sheriff? You think he's at risk? You said police probably would be."
"Yeah. I sensed the same thing I've been sensing around you in his office." Sam confirmed.
"Shit." Dean complained. Was bad enough he was affected but there was a civilian's life at risk too.
Sam silently agreed with his brother.
Sam left Dean with one of the few books they actually had with them that spoke about the illness while he ducked out to get some food and check on some leads. Returning to find the clock smashed on the floor, the book closed, and Dean drinking a beer on the couch as far from the book as he could get made him question that decision.
"Everything alright?" Sam asked cautiously.
"Oh, yeah." Dean replied almost desperately, "just peachy. Find anything?"
"Yeah. Jessie O'Brian's body was cremated. So I'm pretty sure she's not our ghost." Sam replied, sitting down. He noticed that Dean was scratching again, "hey. Quick picking at that. How are you feeling?"
"Awesome." Dean replied, having to force himself to stop scratching, "nice to have my head on the chopping block. Again. Being hunted once isn't enough?"
"Yeah." Sam agreed, feeling a little guilty. Heaven and hell might be after him but his brother was right there with him.
"It's freaking delightful." Dean declared with a cough.
"We'll keep looking." Sam reassured him.
Dean started coughing again.
"You okay?" Sam asked, feeling a bolt of fear go through him as his brother appeared to start choking. For a second his mind flashed back to the endless Tuesdays and the number of times Dean had choked to death before he forcibly wrenched his mind back to the present, "hey."
Dean forced himself to his feet and to the sink.
"Dean!" Sam was on his feet instantly and following him.
Dean half choked half gagged over the sink until he coughed up a woodchip just as Sam reached him. Good thing too since Sam hadn't been looking forward to trying to clear his brother's airway with the memories of the failed attempts from the endless Tuesdays clawing at the edges of his mind.
Dean still looked like he might be sick as he stared at the wood chip then fished it out of the sink and rinsed it off. Hopefully the blood coating it didn't indicate anything major.
"What the…?" Dean mumbled.
"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have; you." Sam noted, hoping the utter relief that Dean wasn't choking any more wasn't as evident as he thought it was.
"I don't wanna be a clue." Dean complained.
"The abrasions, this. The disease, it's trying to tell us something." Sam told him, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
"Tell us what, wood chips?" Dean demanded.
Sam gave a half laugh, "exactly."
The look Dean turned on him told Sam the semi levity wasn't exactly appreciated.
It didn't take Sam long to track down the only wood mill in the area and the subsequent, slower than usual, drive let him get his own reactions back under control. With Dean so close to a panic attack at any moment they didn't need him doing so as well because of his memories of the endless Tuesdays.
Dean looked up at the plant with worry all over his face as they got out of the impala.
"I'm not going in there." Dean stated and Sam nearly sighed aloud.
"I need backup, and you're all I've got." Sam pointed out, "you're going in, Dean."
He nearly did a double take as Dean pulled out a bottle of scotch and took a large swig. Maybe he was overestimating his brother's ability to push through the fear, always before even when he was dealing with a phobia he'd buckled down and done what needed to be done.
"Let's do this." Dean declared as Sam watched him with concern.
If it wasn't a really stupid idea to go into a potentially haunted place without backup Sam would have got him to stay behind, he could almost see his big brother going to pieces in front of him. And, phobias aside, the all-encompassing anxiety that this sickness was producing was an unfamiliar foe to both of them. The closest was the complete uncertainty of what reality was that had plagued Sam after they had finally escaped the endless Tuesdays and the 6 months that followed.
Dean opened up the trunk, looking fearfully at the building as he did so, "it's a little spooky, isn't it?"
Sam didn't have anything to say in response to that, the mere idea of being scared of a hunted building, the idea of his big brother being scared of a haunted building, was so far from reality that there was nothing that came to mind to say. Instead he just grabbed out a shotgun and handed Dean's gun up to him out of habit, even though the handgun wouldn't actually be useful and normally Dean would grab another shotgun as well.
"Oh, I'm not carrying that." Dean declared and Sam nearly grabbed the holy water even though he could tell his brother wasn't possessed.
"It could go off." Dean explained to Sam's incredulous look.
Dean grabbed out a torch when Sam shifted to a glare, "I'll man the flashlight."
"You do that." Sam told him, gritting his teeth and feeling like he'd ended up in an episode of the twilight zone. Hopefully one shotgun would be enough.
He cautiously led the way into the building with Dean sticking close by him. The EMF detector whined and Sam pulled it out before he realised that it wouldn't be useful.
"EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?" Dean asked and Sam sighed. It was always more reassuring, especially to his brother, to have something other than his spooky senses to point the way.
"Well, we always have the Spidey sense." Sam replied. The nervous smile he got in response told him the anxiety was spooking him out about his abilities too.
"Come on." Sam said. The place was definitely haunted, he just hoped it wouldn't be too much for his brother.
Sam spotted something on the ground and his brother nearly freaked out when he stopped to grab it. It was a ring.
"To Frank, Love Jessie." Sam read out, "Frank O'Brian's ring."
"What the hell was Frank doing here?" Dean asked.
"No idea." Sam replied, though it did suggest that this was where Frank got infected.
They moved further in towards where Sam could sense the ghostly presence.
There was a noise from some lockers. His senses told him the ghost wasn't there, but that didn't rule out the ghost doing something there, trying to scare or distract them, or trying to hide something. Powerful as ghosts could be they tended to lose subtlety.
He led them cautiously towards the lockers. Opening the locker a cat growled at them and sped away. Normally this would have just been seen as a minor nuisance by both of them, this time Dean completely freaked out. Complete with screaming.
Sam wasn't sure what was more disconcerting, the utter refusal to carry his gun or his brother being utterly terrified of a simple cat. The phrase 'who are you and what have you done with my brother' flickered through his mind but remained unspoken. He knew it was his brother even if he was acting completely unlike how he normally did. Maybe he should get Bobby to either come back him up or send another Hunter who could be trusted.
"That was scary." Dean declared and Sam was sure he was unable to keep his incredulousness of his face.
Rather than try to come up with a coherent reply Sam headed off towards the ghost.
"What?" Dean asked plaintively in his wake.
Entering an office area he started poking around, he half expected Dean to just look around baffled in his current state and was pleasantly surprised when a focused expression came over Dean's face and he moved towards a desk on the other side of the room. Sam relaxed slightly as he looked through the other desk, finding a battered employee pass.
"Luther Garland." Sam read off the pass.
Dean meanwhile found some drawings, then pulled out the article they'd found, "hey, this is…this is Frank's wife."
"The plot thickens." Sam commented, coming over.
"Yeah, but into what?" Dean asked, picking up one of the pictures and accidentally tearing it. Immediately the machinery started moving.
Dean spun around and gasped in utter fear. Sam made a mental note that Dean's helpfulness was probably over for the time being with that response.
Sam felt the ghost relocate to behind him a moment before Dean's eyes fixed fearfully on something over his shoulder. Turning he saw a large hulking man standing in the corner with his back to them.
"Hey." Sam called.
He more felt than heard his brother move and when he glanced back Dean had bolted out of the building. With a sigh Sam turned back to the ghost as it turned towards him and moved threateningly forward. A salt blast from the shotgun banished him for a while and he retreated from the building himself, it wasn't a good idea to deal with any supernatural creature without backup even if what needed to be burned was there, which is wasn't.
He found Dean sheltering behind the impala finishing off the bottle of scotch.
Sam held up the employee pass, the ghost had been a spitting image of the man pictured, "I guess we got the right place."
Dean just looked at him in near panic and it looked like he wasn't comprehending much right now. Sam sighed and shooed him into the passenger seat, with the amount he'd just drank even with his high tolerance of alcohol there was no way he wasn't drunk.
Back at the police station Linus dug up the police file for the man who's pass they'd found. An unsolved murder file, if that wasn't a recipe for a vengeful ghost then nothing was.
Linus looked at Dean as Sam looked through the police file, "is he drunk?"
A glance at his brother told him that Dean wasn't handling the alcohol as well as he normally did, it didn't do to admit that when he was supposed to be law enforcement though, "no."
It didn't look like Linus quite believed him so he pulled the officer's attention to the file, "deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma. Now, what does that mean?"
"Guy died 20 years ago. Before my time. Sorry." Linus replied.
"Then can we talk to the sheriff?"
"Um…he's out sick today." Linus lied, he wasn't very good at it. Plus Sam could feel a second nexus of the ghost sickness in the sheriff's office. Al must be just as rational as his brother by this point and Sam barely suppressed a sigh, they were running out of time to save both of them and unless he missed his guess the sheriff was a couple of hours more advanced than Dean.
"Well, if you see him will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird." Sam told him, Dean had reverted to nearly normal a few times and maybe the sheriff would too and be able to give them some information, then held up the file, "mind if I take this?"
Linus shook his head to indicate that he didn't mind and Sam headed towards the exit. After a few steps he noticed that Dean wasn't even slightly moving to follow him, rather than draw more attention to his brother's state he reached out with his telekinesis and put pressure on Dean's shoulders to turn him then push him to the door.
"Was that you, Sammy?" Dean slurred as Sam pushed him into the passenger seat again.
"Know anyone else who could?" Sam asked rhetorically.
"Um…"
"That wasn't a real question." Sam sighed, his brother needed to sleep this off. And wasn't that something he never expected, Dean might enjoy his drink, even have quite a high tolerance for alcohol, but he never ever drank to excess while on a job. And that wasn't a control he himself could actually lay claim to.
Sam took Dean back to the hotel and deposited him in his bed while he searched through the file.
He managed to track down the next of kin of Luther and then looked at Dean. He had to figure out whether to wake his brother and try taking him with him to visit the nursing home or leave him behind. It would be much more difficult to pull off the FBI charade with Dean in his current state, and he was still drunk, on the other hand he didn't want to leave his vulnerable brother alone.
"Dean?" He tried calling, his brother mumbled and rolled over. Still drunk then and Sam really couldn't take the time to let him sleep it off properly.
He scrawled a note explaining where he'd gone to his brother and a second he stuck on the door instructing him to stay in the room. Then he hopped in the impala and headed to Peaceful Pines.
He located the man he was looking for in the dining room.
"Mr Garland?" He asked, "hi. I'm Agent Tyler, FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother, Luther."
"Let me see some id." He asked.
"Certainly." Sam replied, handing his over.
Garland looked it over for a moment then handed it back, "don't you guys usually come in pairs?"
"My partner is off sick today."
"What do you want to know?"
"Well, according to this," Sam showed him the police file, "your brother, Luther, died of physical trauma."
Garland gave a half laugh.
"You don't agree?" Sam asked.
"No, I don't."
"Well, then what would you call it?"
"Don't matter what an old man thinks."
"Mr Garland, I'm just trying to get the truth on your brother." Sam told him, "please."
Garland was quiet for a while before he finally spoke, "everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean looking. Just too different. Didn't matter that he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther, I was one of them. I was a widower with three young 'uns and I told myself there was nothing I could do."
The man was near in tears.
"Mr Garland." Sam continued gently, unfolding the drawing of Frank's wife, "do you recognise this woman?"
"That's Jessie O'Brian." Garland confirmed and stayed quiet for a moment, "her man, Frank, killed Luther."
That was definite news to Sam, the police file didn't list any suspects let alone someone identified as the perpetrator, "how do you know that?"
"Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it." Garland replied, "Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn't like it. Then when Jessie went missing Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that. They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant 'til he was past dead."
"O'Brian was never arrested?" Sam asked, not that he really had to ask the file allowed only a bleak conclusion to that. The sheriff was Frank's friend after all.
"I screamed to every cop in town. They wouldn't look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak."
"You must have hated Frank O'Brian." Sam commented.
"I did for a long time, but…life's too short for hate, son." Garland replied, "and Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished, he was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same but…that's fear. It spreads and spreads."
"Thank you Mr Garland." Sam told him before seeing himself out and returning to the hotel room, sending an urgent message to Bobby before he did so.
Dean was awake and in a highly agitated state when Sam got there.
"Where did you go?" He demanded.
"Whoa, Dean, calm down." Sam replied, "I went to see Luther Garland's brother like I said in the note."
"Okay." Dean replied, sitting down nervously on the couch, "what did you find?"
Sam wasn't quite sure whether his brother had actually sobered up this fast or whether it was the rush of fear on being alone when he woke. And exactly why he woke was a little concerning to Sam actually, though as long as he didn't have anything to clean up he probably wouldn't know.
"Frank killed Luther by road hauling him outside the mill."
"Oh." Dean replied and thought for a bit, then gestured to his arms, "well now I know what these are: road rash. And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some woodchips when he was being dragged down that road."
Sam nodded in agreement, he'd reached the same conclusion on the drive back, "it makes sense. You're experiencing his death in slow motion."
"Yeah, well, not slow enough. I say we burn some bones and get me healthy." Dean replied, calmer now that there appeared to be an actual goal for them.
Sam sighed, "Dean, it won't be that easy."
"No, no, it'll be that easy." Dean responded starting to sound panicked again, "why won't it be that easy?"
"He was road hauled." Sam explained reluctantly, "his body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains."
Dean struggled to control his breathing and closed his eyes, "you're kidding me."
"Look, we'll just have to figure something else out." Sam told him, trying his best to sound reassuring.
Dean hopped up and started pacing, Sam noted that what control his brother had had over his breathing was gone.
"You know what? Screw this!" Dean exclaimed and some instinct made Sam step back to block access to the door.
"Whoa, whoa, Dean, calm down." Sam tried reassuring him. Unless he missed his guess his brother wasn't thinking entirely rationally any more.
"No, I mean, come on, Sam." Dean kept pacing, "what are we doing?"
"We're hunting a ghost." Sam hoped just stating the facts would engage Dean's logical reasoning, which was what had overridden the fear on a number of occasions in the last couple of days.
"A ghost, exactly! Who does that?" Dean demanded. Apparently life wasn't giving Sam any breaks today.
"Us." Sam stated calmly.
"Us! Right!" Dean wasn't calming down, "and that, Sam, that is exactly why our lives suck! I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell? I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no! We…we search out things that want to kill us! Huh? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people! We are insane!"
Dean kept pacing, his speed increasing, "and then there's the bad diner food, and then the skeevy motel rooms and the truck stop waitress with the bizarre rash…I mean, who wants this life, Sam, huh? Seriously? Do you actually like being stuck in a car with me 8 hours a day, every single day? I don't think so! I drive too fast, and I listen to the same five albums over and over again, and I sing along. I'm annoying, I know that! And you, you're gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic! We got the combined might of both heaven and hell after us! I mean…you know what? You can forget it.
"I'm done with it! I'm done with the monsters, and the demons, and the ghost sickness! I'm out! I'm done! I quit!" He started for the door but shied away because Sam was in the way and retreated to the bathroom instead. Sam sighed, at least the window in the bathroom was too small for Dean to get out of even if he was functioning at the top of his game.
With a sigh Sam plopped down on the couch and waited for Dean to calm down enough to come out of the bathroom. He hated having to wait but it wouldn't help either of them to try forcing the issue right now.
Eventually Dean came back out and sat on the couch next to him, still highly agitated but at least thinking.
"What do we do now?" Dean asked fearfully, "I mean, I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die, Sammy."
"Not if I can help it." Sam replied.
From Dean's reaction that wasn't what he heard and he scrambled up then backed away fearfully.
"Dean!" Sam called as he followed him trying to break through what was obviously a hallucination, Dean started choking again, "hey, hey, hey, Dean! Hey, Dean! Dean! Dean!"
Dean gasped and Sam could see the change in his brother the instant the hallucination let him go.
"You okay?" Sam asked cautiously, consciously reigning in his own fear as the memories of the endless Tuesdays tried to force themselves to the forefront of his mind again.
Dean nodded shakily and began to pace once Sam stepped back.
Sam regarded Dean worriedly as he paced. The hallucinations were obviously getting worse and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to break the hold the ghost had on him. Bobby was due soon, maybe he'd have an idea of how to deal with a ghost where their remains were spread to kingdom come. But they were running out of time.
He'd snapped a ghost's tether once, or at least that's what they figured. Dean had asked he not do that again except in an emergency, Sam made a split second decision that this qualified. Moving over to his bed he took himself into meditation without even mentioning it to Dean, his brother was acting so unlike himself it wasn't worth trying to explain.
Once in the odd perceptions that characterised what they conveniently referred to as meditation the thing attacking his brother's mind snapped at him. He flinched back briefly before joining the battle.
Dean paced trying to find something to quell the anxiety that had pretty much taken over his life. He glanced at Sam and rolled his eyes when he saw his brother was meditating. He found it hard to fathom that Sam thought now was a good time to meditate, Dean couldn't possibly reach the calm needed in order to do so right now.
He felt a spike of fear when Sam flinched back from something before stilling again. Dean suddenly had a bad feeling this wasn't an ordinary meditation session.
"Sam?"
Sam didn't even stir. Then the fear surged and Dean couldn't even see straight.
Sam grappled with the thing as it tried to resolidify its hold on his brother, then he managed to yank it off Dean and finally saw the tether. He tore it asunder and the thing fighting him appeared to explode, tearing into his mind as everything went black.
The utter terror backed off and Dean could make out what was going on around him again. His eyes landed on Sam and it felt like his insides had turned to ice. His brother was still on the bed but no longer in meditation position. Instead he was seizing violently.
Dean barely managed to keep his brother from falling off the bed as he frantically tried to recall everything he'd learnt about seizures. He vaguely remembered you weren't supposed to try to restrain someone but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his brother fall onto the floor. He tried to remember what the length of time beyond which you needed to call an ambulance, tried to remember whether that applied to the first time and figure out whether that would ever apply to a supernatural cause.
"Sammy!" As if he really expected his brother to actually answer.
Sam abruptly went still, which scared Dean more than the last couple of days had managed to. He forced himself to focus, to assess. Danger had already been considered long ago; salt lines and sigils everywhere. Response wasn't happening any time soon. Sending for help was a very different priority for hunters. Airway…
Dean's hands shook as he gently opened Sam's mouth. Didn't appear to be blocked. Then he leant over to check if Sam was actually breathing, vaguely remembering that bringing your face down to check was no longer recommended for safety reasons, not that he had a problem with it since it was his brother.
A small puff of air on his cheek told him Sam was indeed breathing and he let out his own breath in a sigh of relief. Carefully he rolled his brother into the recovery position.
His hands still shaking Dean found his phone and called Bobby.
"Dean? I'm about two hours out."
"Bobby, it's Sam. He just had a seizure." Dean couldn't keep his voice from shaking. There was silence from the other end for a moment.
"Are you sure it was Sam? The hallucinations can be pretty realistic."
"Pretty sure. He was meditating then next time I looked…Bobby…I think he did something stupid."
"Like what? One sec, I'm going to call his phone from my backup. If it's a hallucination he'll answer."
Sam's phone started ringing in the quiet room.
"I can hear it ringing." Dean commented quietly.
"So can I." Bobby replied but let it ring out before continuing, "okay, what stupid thing do you think Sam did?"
"I don't know. Decided to battle this sickness for my mind maybe?"
"Sam's certainly capable of not only deciding to do just that but following through also. So the big question is did he succeed? What's his condition?"
"I got him on his side, airway open and he's breathing. The seizure probably means he lost though, so how do we take care of a ghost that can't be salted and burned?"
Bobby was silent for a moment, "we?"
"Of course 'we'!" Dean snapped, "the ass hat hurt Sam! Think I'm going to just sit here and let it kill me after that?"
"I think whatever Sam did worked." Bobby replied, "welcome back, Dean."
"Wha…"
"I'll be there soon. Just keep an eye on Sam." Bobby replied before hanging up.
Bobby arrived a while later and confirmed with the EMF meter that Dean was no longer haunted. Sam hadn't given any signs of waking though and Dean refused to move from his side.
A short while later Bobby answered the door when there was a knock since Dean wasn't moving from Sam's side anytime soon.
"Oh, sorry. I thought it was someone else in this room." The man on the other side said. He was in a police uniform, a sheriff.
"Al?" Dean called from further in before Bobby could reply, Al poked his head around the door and Dean could see his eyes widen as he took in Sam's condition. He remembered the sheriff had probably had as difficult a ride as he'd had these last few days, "hey, you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, now." Al replied as Bobby let him come in and waved him to the couch before shutting the door. Dean didn't expect the law enforcer to miss the salt lines but the sheriff had the grace not to comment on it, "I was going to ask you why you were looking into the Garland death and to tell me what the hell was going on. Now I just want to know what happened to your partner."
Dean sighed, "are you really sure you want to know?"
"Yeah." Al replied with obvious trepidation, "I have a feeling I'll regret it but yes."
"Okay. Don't say I didn't warn you though and I'd appreciate not being called insane once I finish." Dean replied, "Luther was what is referred to as a vengeful ghost. A little different from the usual though since he gave Frank ghost sickness, that's what killed him and the two in Maumee. You and I got infected with that sickness from Frank's corpse. Sam tangled with the ghost, got hurt but managed to take it out, which banished the sickness from us. I had about 4 hours to go, you I'd guess had an hour or two less."
"Damn. That's an incredible story." Al said and Bobby deposited a shot glass of scotch in front of him, "your partner going to be okay?"
Dean had almost expected more disbelief but that sort of thing is harder to maintain when the supernatural crap has happened to you.
"We'll know when he wakes up." Dean replied with a sigh.
"Shouldn't he be in hospital then?" Al asked.
"And tell them what? We'd both be locked in the psych ward if we told them he'd been injured by a ghost." Dean replied.
"Damn." Al replied, "so now you know the truth of the Garland death, what are you going to do about it?"
Dean shrugged, "not really our department. Our concern was the ghost killing people, yours is about justice for the living. Luther already took his revenge on Frank, and very nearly you. Two other's completely uninvolved also paid that price."
"The FBI seriously has a department for ghosts killing people?"
"Officially, no." Dean lied smoothly.
Al snorted a laugh and finished his drink, "I think I'm going to try my damndest to forget I ever heard or experienced any of this and hope I never have to deal with it again."
"That's definitely a plan." Dean agreed.
Bobby let him back out again.
"Took a risk there, boy." Bobby noted.
"Being nearly killed by something you can't explain does tend to quash the disbelief somewhat." Dean replied.
They went back to waiting for Sam to wake up.