A/N: Vivi here! I'm a week late. I'm sorry. Lots of tests recently. This is a short chapter. I'm sorry. But the next one will be long and has been long awaited so... enjoy!
Previously on Family Practice:
"To the club? Interview some employees?" Sam suggested. We'd have to go back to the motel and get the fed gear, but that sounded like a solid option to me.
"No." Dean said as we piled into the Impala. "We're gonna run some tests."
"What kind of tests?" Sam asked nervously.
"You'll see."
After every test Dean, Bobby, Sam, and I could think of to try and figure out what had happened to Sam, we were no closer to getting an answer than we had been that morning. And now it was almost eight in the evening. The sun was just starting to dive towards the trees.
"So it's not a hex, a charm, a Biblical curse, or the kind of shallow possession that Li had way back when." Dean said, pacing the room as Sam and I sat on one of the beds.
"And it's not a haunting, a cursed object, ghost sickness, or a trickster." Sam said, rubbing his thumb absently over the cut from the silver knife that I'd bandaged about five hours ago. The little warded bracelet Dean found in the trunk sat around his wrist; it was supposed to protect against malignant spirits and cancel out any spells regarding attachment. It would apparently flash blue when it worked, for a few seconds at least. So far, it hadn't so much as glowed.
"It's not of Egyptian, Native American, Alaskan, or Japanese origin." I listed off, recalling the countless things we'd done under Bobby's speaker phone guidance to rule out many more than those areas of unnatural phenomenon.
"It's not the doppelganger effect, or a wraith, he ain't growin' fangs and wolfin' out when you poke silver at 'im, and he's sleeping like normal so it ain't no soul sucker… I'm at a loss, boys. Let me make a couple more calls and I'll get back to you by tomorrow." Bobby said with a sigh that we could hear over the phone. "Just stay on high alert until we know what we're dealin' with. Salt the doors, use the goofer dust, and keep that warded chain around Sam's wrist. And don't you go goofin' off tonight. That room is the safest place you got right now."
"Understood. Thanks Bobby." Dean said as he and Bobby ended the call.
"Can we get dinner now?" Sam asked, his voice as tired and worn as I felt.
"Wha- Bobby just said not to leave the room, Sam. Were you not listening?" Dean said.
"He said don't goof off. He didn't say anything about not leaving." Sam whined. We'd worked him over pretty good in the hours after we met Tish; it was no wonder his patience was wearing down.
"Why don't we just order pizza?" I suggested. The last thing I wanted to deal with at that moment was a pair of bickering Winchesters; a headache had been brewing for the past few hours and I was at the end of my rope. Also, letting Sam out of the room before Bobby got back to us made me uneasy.
The pizza came half an hour later while Dean and I were scraping the bottom of the research barrel for anything we may have missed. I hardly even noticed the pizza guy's arrival, only looking up when Sam dropped the box onto the table where I was working. Dean had the box open and a good third of it gone before his laptop shut down on his bed.
"Hawaiian pizza is gross, dude." Dean said, taking a huge bite of the pineapple and ham covered slice.
Sam snorted, watching his brother as he ate. "Sure it is. And if you had been the one to call, you could've gotten something else. But you told me to call. So I got what I wanted."
"Who puts pineapple on pizza?" Dean muttered before taking another bite.
"Apparently the Canadians." Sam said.
"What?" I asked, pausing with my own slice held just in front of my mouth.
"It was invented by a Canadian in the 60's." Sam shrugged. "I don't know why he called it Hawaiian."
"Hey, what do you get when you cross a hula hoop and a boxer?" Dean asked with the worst shit-eating grin I've seen in a long time smeared on his face.
Sam sighed, probably knowing what was coming. "I don't know, Dean."
"Hawaiian punch!"
I am not ashamed to say I laughed so hard that I launched a chunk of pineapple across the room. Okay, well, maybe a little ashamed. But it made both of the guys laugh, so it was worth it. Just a moment of blissful levity to save us from drowning in the impending doom we faced if no one could figure out what was happening to Sam.
Speaking of figuring out… Dean phone went off and the man practically threw his pizza onto the comforter beside him trying to get at his pocket.
"Bobby?" Dean answered, putting the phone on speaker.
"Get outside now." Bobby snapped.
"Bobby, what's going on-" Sam started to ask, putting his own plate down on the table where he and I sat.
"I said now, ya idjits!"
We hustled out the door and stood, confused, around the car. "Tell us what's goin' on." Dean demanded. "Why are we outside right now?"
"Everyone's outside? All three of ya?"
"Yeah." Sam said, crossing his arms. It was obvious by the look on his face that he was not at all pleased about being ousted into the chilly night air.
"Good. Stay outside. It's an erebus jinx." Bobby said, all the urgency and gruff temper gone from his tone.
"What's an erebus jinx?" I asked, raking my memory for the term. Nothing came to mind. "I've never heard of that before."
"'s because it's rare. Erebus was the Greek god of darkness. Well, they thought he was darkness. Er darkness was him, somethin' like that. Anyhow, a while back some nutso sorceress named Medea cooked up a jinx that mimicked everything about 'im and set it loose on the world. Most of those suckers went down fast, but a few took on lives of their own, apparently. Buddy 'a mine read about 'em in some sheepskin tome years ago, says they hide in places where 'shadows never perish'. Dark places. Like caves, ol' temples-"
"Nightclubs." I realized quickly, speaking before I could stop the word from coming out.
"Exactly. If the thing gets caught in the light, it nulls out."
"So what do we do to get rid of it?" Dean asked impatiently, tapping on the hood of the car and looking Sam up and down absently.
"Well, Erebus had a lady, Nyx. She was night. Medea made the jinx to mimic the ol' son of The Void in every way, so if you stay out all night under the stars all night long, sun down to sun up, the jinx is supposed to dissipate into the night, join it like Erebus joined Nyx, and leave the host before it putters out in the light. If you don't stay out all night at least once, the thing'll fester in ya and start draggin' ya to the darkness." Bobby said, sighing heavily. "Darkness, in most cases that I could find, means suicide or death and then just… nothin'. Not heaven or hell. Heaven, Aether, was Erebus' kid and Hell, Tartarus, was 'is brother. So when Erebus himself gets ya, it's just nothing. If the jinx isn't removed… your soul just disappears. Forever."
Sam swallowed audibly.
"So- so all we have to do is stay outside all night?" Dean asked, hope alight in his voice.
"Has the sun set yet?" Bobby asked. "Cuz if it has, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. Kid should have a couple days before the jinx is strong enough to do anything."
"No, I can still see the sun. It's still up." I smiled, squinting in the direction of the orange ball lighting up the quickly reddening sky.
"Good. Couple more things before you settle in. Don't sleep. Hypnos, sleep, was Erebus' step kid. Don't fight; Eris, er strife, was Hypnos' sibling. And don't get hurt. You guessed it. Oizys was distress and another of the big guy's step kids. You have to let the jinx focus solely on the night for it to leave; don't bring up the step kids and distract it. It'll just hunker down and get stronger. Got that?"
"Yes, sir." Sam said, running a hand through his hair. "Doesn't sound too bad. So if the jinx was in the nightclub, is it in me now? Or is it still there?"
"Still there. It spreads, multiplies. Like a disease." Bobby sneered.
"So how do we get rid of it for good?" I asked. "How do we stop it from hurting more people?"
"You have to get rid of the darkness in that club."
"You mean we have to light the whole place up?" Dean asked, obviously not liking what he was hearing. "Literally?"
"That's the only way to get rid of the source."
Dean wiped one hand down his face and sighed heavily, revealing how tired he was. "Thanks, Bobby. We'll deal with that tomorrow."
"Now, only Sam has to stay awake. I don't care what you other two do, but Sam has to keep his eyes mostly open and his head directly under the sky all night long. Fall asleep and the jinx just crams itself back in ya. Hypnos, remember." Bobby warned.
"We'll make sure it works out, Bobby." I said quietly. "Thanks for all your help."
"That's what I'm here for. Call me in the mornin'."
"Will do." Dean said, his eyes already looking far away at nothing at all.
"Thanks, Bobby." Sam said, nodding at Dean so he would hang up.
"Gonna be chilly tonight." Dean said, pocketing his phone. After a moment, he moved towards the room and muttered under his breath. "I'll get some blankets."
The rest of our evening and well into the morning was spent laying in a blanketed heap on the hood of the Impala, the three of us listening absently to Sam's little iPod playing everything from classic rock to country. With the volume low, we hoped to avoid any confrontation with the other motel guests, most of whom were tucked away in bed and not on or in their cars outside with us. We'd also agreed not to talk unless Sam was starting to fall asleep; that way we couldn't argue even a little. Every once in a while Dean would lick his finger and stick it in Sam's ear, prompting a flinch and a string of hushed profanities that had me laughing. I was just about to nod off when the first deep orange of sunrise began spreading across the sky to our right.
"Finally." Sam yawned, scratching his head.
"'s not over yet, Sasquatch. Sun's gotta be all the way up before you can conk out." Dean mumbled, his eyes bloodshot and blinking lazily. The night had been harder on him, somehow, than it had on me or Sam.
"I'm not bowing out yet, I'm just saying that it's about time that thing decided to show up." Sam shifted, prompting me to adjust the position of my head; in my exhaustion last night, I had splayed myself over both their legs, seeking warmth when the wind started to blow. It was actually kind of comfortable. For me, at least.
"Can we sleep when this is over?" I asked, my whole face feeling heavy with the need to recharge. "I'm pooped."
"I haven't heard anyone say that in years." Dean chuckled, the hearty sound making his legs move under mine. "But yeah, we can sleep after we call Bobby."
The next hour finally saw the entirety of the sun well above the tree line, officially welcoming in a whole new day. Dean called Bobby, who gave us the go ahead to go back inside.
"Should've worked. Not really a way to tell, unless you saw that bracelet of his light up when it left." Bobby said.
"What?" Dean snapped. "It was under the blankets the whole time, Bobby. I didn't know we were supposed to be watching it." He sounded as frustrated as I felt.
The one way to make sure Sam would be okay, and he forgot to mention it. I was practically growling.
"Didn't occur to me until 'bout an hour ago." Bobby said with a shrug in his tone. "Not much use now. Go get some rest. I'll see if anybody knows a way to test if it's gone."
"Talk to you soon." Dean hung up and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he fell back on the windshield. "This better have worked."
"Took the words right outta my mouth." Sam muttered.
It took some prompting from both of them before I relinquished my warm spot and shuffled back into the room, falling face first onto Sam's bed. The three of us slept for at least five hours. It didn't feel like enough.
I woke up to Dean's annoying ringtone and a muted groan from the next bed. Bobby had a new slew of tests for Sam.
None of them proved effective in convincing us that Sam was cured. None of them were effective at all.
"Okay, stop." Sam snapped after the sixth test, which involved shining a bright light into his eye to see if the retina still reflected like it should. He batted the flashlight out of Dean's hand and it landed with a soft thud on the bed. "This is stupid."
"We gotta be sure, Sam." Dean said through clenched teeth, barely containing his own frustration.
"We can be sure later." Sam got up from the bed and started to put his shoes on.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Going to get lunch. I'm starving."
My stomach growled, earning a tense glare from the tired eyes of the older Winchester. "I, uh, I'm hungry too. In case you couldn't already tell." I smiled sheepishly, knowing how exhausted Dean was already. I didn't want to push him over the edge and into a bar.
"Relax, Dean. I'm just going up the street to get some burgers. I'll be back in like twenty minutes." Sam opened the motel door, but turned before he left. "And if I'm not, just call me."
Dean stared his brother down until Sam rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.
"Why don't we get some more sleep, Dean? I'm still dragging." I said, hoping that sleep would help his mood.
"No."
That was all he said until Sam returned. The burger-bearer came back to find the two of us leafing through internet pages and police reports for any more tests or any additional clues. That last test with the light had been the last one that Bobby gave us. We were on our own now, at least until he called again.
Bobby didn't call again that night.
Dean was reading the local paper on the web and shocked us all with the news that Matthias had been found- alive. The reporter said he attempted suicide- it didn't say how- and that a park ranger found him and called the squad. He was in critical care at the local hospital.
Needless to say, dress clothes were donned, fake IDs were tucked away in pockets, and three 'insurance agents' arrived at the hospital.
"We really only need a few minutes with him to write up our report. It won't take long at all." Dean said, flashing his best 'I'm totally a professional' look.
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Matthias is in no condition for visitors of any kind. We aren't even allowing family in at this point. Now, I can answer a few questions for you, provided you keep your report confidential and submit the necessary paperwork to the hospital afterward. Just make it quick, because I have three residents and two interns working under me tonight and I don't want to write my own report because a patient died while I was talking to insurance agents." The doctor, Dr. Lua from the badge he wore, spoke quickly and seemed to have no room for any pleasantries or extraneous talk.
Sam sighed deeply, frustrated. This was the third person we'd talked to in our climb of the authority ladder to try and get at Matthias. Next would be the building manager, and she was off on vacation for a week, according to the nurse we spoke to after the clueless volunteer at the front desk pointed us to the ICU. "We just have a few questions on his condition."
Doc answered the questions very vaguely which was extremely frustrating to me. I didn't know if Sam and Dean were getting anything out of the conversation, but I was an ex-med student, damn it, and I wanted to know exactly what had happened to Matthias in the more precise medical terms I navigated for six years of my life. All I was getting out of the doctor was that our guy had a head injury, was found in the same forest where Stilts was found, and hadn't said a word since they brought him in.
I yelled nothing in particular into my pillow when we got back to the motel. It wasn't much of a release, but it helped a little.
"What the hell?" Sam gasped at the sound. A hand landed on my back when I stopped and I just groaned. "You okay?"
"Frus-rated." I mumbled into the fluff.
"Welcome to the club."
A/N: Sorry, I know it's short. The next chapter is longer. You'll really like it. Promise! Leave me some words; I love reading your words!