Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon in me
Down with the Sickness by Disturbed
12. Croatoan
Central City, Missouri
The door to her apartment swung open. Mike strolled in happily, wearing the biggest possible grin on his face.
"That's two more arrests for me," he announced gleefully. He wandered over to the whiteboard Hayley had placed in her living room a week ago, grabbing a marker. "Which brings me into the lead."
The whiteboard showed two columns, one read "Flash" while the second proclaimed "Super Boy." Beneath those names were numbers. Hayley's stated seventeen while Mike changed his to an eighteen.
"I'll let you win," she teased him, planting her butt on the kitchen counter, watching him with a smile. He seemed happy with his win.
The last week had been really fun. They were finally a team. They had their routine, they had their groove. Mike had started listening to her, and Hayley had dialed back the bitchy tone in her voice.
They had stopped a bank heist early in the morning, and were onto a jewelry store robbery by the afternoon. Two robbers, and Mike had taken them down with ease. By the time they had wrapped up, it was already dinner time, the evening sun painting her loft a soft orange.
"Uh-huh. I'm sure you have," Mike replied, showing his cockiest grin. "Just admit I'm awesome."
"You know, you're getting a little full of yourself, Super Boy."
"Still not agreeing with the name."
She chuckled. She had mostly given him that nickname to tease him, but the entire team had fondly taken to it at this point.
"And full of myself? Look, who's talking…"
He walked a few steps closer to her, throwing the whiteboard marker carelessly to the side.
A smirk appeared on her face. "Hmm, maybe you're right."
He peaked his ears at those words. Was this an alternate universe where he was suddenly right?
"Maybe I am a little full of you…or at least, I'm gonna be."
And with that, she swung her legs around his waist, pulling him towards her. He grinned at her as she bit her bottom lip hungrily. He put his hands around her hips. Her arms reached up, wrapping around his neck, catching him in a fiery kiss.
Her heart was pounding against his chest fast. Her legs tightened around his body. He broke their kiss to pull her shirt over her head, flinging it over to the couch. He gazed at her black lacy bra and its content appreciatively. They were breathing heavily, their chests heaving in synchronism. The adrenaline from their crime fighting spree still fueling their veins.
"Bed or couch?" He asked before he started kissing down her neck. He moved one hand to the small of her back, while the other found its way to her thigh.
"Counter's fine." She leered at him.
He shook his head at her boldness, smirking.
"If you keep being this dirty, it's gonna have to be the shower next time," he teased her.
"Guess I'll keep on keeping on," she said, her lips coming up to meet his again.
Her hand traced his neck, lingering on his collarbone before it moved farther down. Her fingers tugged at his jeans in an urgency. He groaned in response.
He loved being a fucking hero.
Twin Falls, Idaho
He was standing in a corridor. Hospital, he thought as he looked at the sterile surrounding. He saw his brother standing in front of a brown metal door, waiting, his look determined. But Sam couldn't touch him or reach out to him. His older brother seemed as if he was part of a TV show. Untouchable, just observable.
Dean replaced the clip of his gun, and swung the metal door open. Sam's eyes followed him inside the room.
A young man was tied to a chair in the center, three people crowding around him. There was an older black man, a young blond girl in a nurse uniform, and Hayley. They all looked anxiously at Dean as he walked in, gun raised, aiming for the guy in the chair.
The young nurse panicked, the older man grew unsure of Dean's actions.
"Maybe he's tellin' the truth."
"He's not him, not anymore," Dean replied sternly.
"No, stop it! Stop it! Ask her! It's not in me, I swear!" The young man pleaded, tears in his eyes. The desperation was written across his entire face. He looked helplessly over to Hayley.
Her eyes were wide, panicked. She didn't know what to say. "I…I don't know. I can't tell for sure." She looked at Dean entreatingly, but he averted her gaze. His focus lied at the target in front of him.
Then there were a few more whimpers, and cries of despair.
"I got no choice."
Two shots were fired.
Sam rolled out of bed, and landed on the floor. His head hurt like hell as he felt the migraine pass over him.
That wasn't a dream. It was a vision.
The door of the motel room swung open. Dean stood at the entrance, a jerky still half-eaten in his mouth, a six-pack of beer under his arm. He had planned a relaxed night in.
That flew out the moment he saw his little brother on the floor, panting from exhaustion.
Another fucking vision.
It was almost midnight when the brothers hit the road. Sam had put in Rivergrove, Oregon as their destination. He remembered seeing a poster of Crater lake in his vision.
"Okay, what else?" Dean asked.
His facial expression was grim, worried. He hated it when Sam got visions. They were always trouble. And they always scared the shit out of him. Every time they had to drive to another psychic involved case, he never knew if he'd walk back out with his little brother again.
"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair."
"And I ventilated him?" He furrowed his brow.
"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him," Sam replied calmly.
He wouldn't put it past his brother to just simply ice someone. Especially with his recent mood swings and tantrums.
"What, a demon? Was he possessed?"
"I don't know," Sam shrugged.
"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow…so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?"
"Hayley was there. She didn't know what was inside him either. Other than that, no. Nothing, you just plugged him, that's it."
"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason."
"I sure hope so," Sam mumbled under his breath.
"What does that mean?" Dean shot him a sharp look. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man."
Sam frowned at that. He had witnessed Dean kill for less.
"I wouldn't!" Dean reiterated.
"I never said you would!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
There was silence again in the car. Sam sighed a little frustrated. But he knew Dean had a hard time dealing with his visions. He'd cut him some slack and calm his nerves instead.
"Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what. We should also call Hayles. See if she can come out and help with this."
"Fine," Dean caved. At least, he had another person there that knew about Sam.
"Fine."
Central City, Missouri
It was past midnight. She was sleeping on her stomach, sprawled out on her bed. Mike was next to her, his arm weighing her down, wrapped around her.
Her phone started buzzing on her night stand, lights blinking to a rhythm. She growled. She grabbed clumsily around the table until her hands found it. Her head hadn't lifted once, her face still buried in her pillow. She turned her head a little to the side, so the speakers could reach her ear.
"I hate you. I hate you so much," she yapped tiredly into the speaker. There was a chuckle on the other end.
"Wakey, wakey, Speedy. Found ourselves a case." Dean's voice sounded tired as well, but she could hear he was trying to sound cheerful. The brothers must have found a tough case when Dean had to try and hide his worry.
She just groaned in response.
"Sam had another vision."
"What?!"
That woke her up for good, and she sat up straight in her bed. Mike now woke up too from the commotion, looking groggily at her. She pursed her lips, and petted his head lovingly. He fell back into his pillow with a soft sigh, closing his eyes again.
"Yeah, we're on our way to Rivergrove, Oregon. I'll fill you in on the details later."
"How far are you out?"
"Uhm, about eight hours to go."
"Okay, I'll meet you there in the morning."
She wouldn't leave her comfy bed for the backseat of the Impala.
"Sure, see you there. Oh, and one more thing out of curiosity."
Whatever it was she could hear a smile forming as he pronounced the last words. She prepared herself for the mental eye-roll.
"Yeah?"
"Are you naked right now?"
"What?! You cannot possibly know that through a phone call," she scoffed. "Not even you are that impish."
There was laughter on the other end. She pulled the blanket higher up, covering herself up to her throat.
"Nope. But thanks for answering anyways." More laughter errupted.
"You are such an asshole! I'm going back to sleep."
She could still hear him chuckling as she hung up.
Rivergrove, Oregon
The drive had been long, and tiring. The brothers took turns sleeping and driving, but it only helped so much. Both were too distraught by Sam's vision, and the prospect of running into the Yellow-Eyed Demon to get some proper shuteye.
The small town seemed quaint and pleasant. Nothing out of the ordinary at first sight.
The Impala rolled through the town until Dean parked it at the side of the road next to a little store. It was built into a cabin, the shop's owner sitting on the porch, watching over the town as he cleaned a rifle in his lap. He was African American, and wore a light gray shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, underneath his cedar-colored multi-pocket vest.
Sam had recognized him from his vision. He had been in the room with Dean.
The brothers walked up the little pathway to the porch.
"Morning," Dean greeted as he approached him.
"Good morning. Can I help you?" The older man asked politely.
He seemed suspicious nonetheless, scanning the boys from head to toe. Small town folk were usually wary of outsiders.
"Yeah. Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard. U.S. Marshals." Dean pulled out his badge, holding it up for the man to see.
"What's this about?"
"We're looking for someone."
"A young man, early twenties. He'd have a, a thin scar right below his hairline," Sam described, remembering his premonition.
"What'd he do?" The guy furrowed his brow distrustfully.
"Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us," Sam deterred his reservations.
"Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything – well, not yet." Dean caught eye of the guy's tattoo on his forearm, recognizing the symbol. "I think maybe you know who he is…Master Sergeant." He smiled charmingly at the man. "My Dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal."
"What company?"
"Echo-2-1."
"So can you help us?" Sam stirred them back to topic.
The man hesitated for a moment, weighing if he could trust them. "Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean."
"Oh, I'm sure he does. Uhm, you know where he lives?" Dean asked.
"With his family, up Aspen Way." He pointed up the road.
"Thank you," Dean said, as the boys turned to leave.
Before hitting the Tanners' home, they walked further into town, strolling by little shops, as Sam noticed a word carved into a wooden telephone pole. He would have missed it, if he hadn't almost bumped into it. The carving read CROATOAN.
Sam stopped, Dean following his lead.
"Hey." He nudged his brother, pointing at the word.
"Croatoan?" Dean raised his eyebrows indifferently.
"Yeah." Sam nodded as if it were obvious.
Dean still stared at him blankly, shrugging.
"Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell?"
Still no answer.
"Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?"
"Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world. How bills become laws…," he explained, and Sam stared at him baffled.
"That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock."
"Whatever." Dean rolled his eyes at his nerdy brother.
"Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America, late 1500s?"
"Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that." Dean smiled proudly at his knowledge. "The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan."
"Yeah. And I mean, there were theories. Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight," Sam explained.
"You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean…" While he thought Sam's theory was a long shot, he still grew concerned.
"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?"
"Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…" Dean swallowed.
"We should get more help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe? Shouldn't Hayley be here already?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea. And you know Hayley. She's always late. I'll call her, see if she's leaving soon."
He grabbed the cellphone from his pocket, pressing the speed dial for Hayley. But the call didn't go through and was immediately disconnected.
"I don't have a signal," he said, frowning.
Sam tried his phone, but came up with the same results. That wasn't a good sign.
They found a pay phone, but it was out of service as well. Dean tried several times before realizing the line was probably dead.
"I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step," Dean said. T
he brothers looked around the street worriedly. Something bad was coming.
The Tanners' house was at the edge of town, a short drive from the center. Dean parked the car in front of a wooden building, similar to the little shop. This town surely loved their cabin vibes. A dirt road had let up to the house, no neighboring structures in sight. It was secluded.
The brothers walked up to the front door, decorated with a flashy wooden panel that read Born To Fish, Forced To Work. Dean grimaced as he read the message while Sam knocked on the door.
"Yeah?" A dirty blond haired boy in his later teenage years answered.
Dean flashed his badge again, skipping the introduction. "We're looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?"
"Yeah, he's my brother," the kid replied.
"Can we talk to him?" Dean asked.
"Oh, he's not here right now."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake."
Fishing, of course, Dean thought, glancing at the plaque again.
"Your parents home?" Sam asked as he heard footsteps hurrying around inside.
"Yeah, they're inside."
"Jake? Who is it?" An older male's voice asked, presumably the boy's father.
"Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane," Dean said as Mr. Tanner joined them at the front door.
"Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?" The father questioned concerned. He was a head smaller than his son, gray hair, and a balding spot in the back.
"No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all."
"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asked.
"I'm not sure," the man replied with a shrug.
"Well, maybe your wife knows."
There was something off about this guy. He was polite, sure. But at the same time, the man also seemed cold and emotionless.
"No, I don't know, she's not here right now," the man lied.
"Your son said she was," Dean said pointedly.
"Did I?" The son replied, feigning his innocence as he looked up to his father.
"She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?" The guy suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to get rid of the brothers.
"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later." Dean smiled courteously.
The brothers turned to leave the house, but as soon as they heard the door shut behind them, they stopped.
"That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?" Dean raised his brows.
"Big time," Sam agreed.
They nodded in unison before they snuck around the backside of the house. There were enough bushes and trees around the property to provide them with enough hideouts. The boys crouched behind some bushes where they had a clear view inside through the kitchen window.
Mrs. Tanner definitely wasn't grocery shopping. They watched as a blond, older woman was tied to a chair, her mouth gagged with a cloth. Her eyes looked terrified when her son and husband returned, towering over her.
The brothers shared a look before they stormed in, guns blazing.
Dean kicked down the door with his leg. The boys rushed in as Mr. Tanner and his son looked at them stunned. The husband was holding a kitchen knife, his wife was bleeding and screaming.
The brothers had their guns raised, but that didn't stop Mr. Tanner leaping at them with his knife. Dean reacted in an instant, pulling the trigger three times and the man went down in front of him.
The son quickly fled the scene. He jumped out the same kitchen window, they had looked through earlier. Glass shattered around them as Sam ran after him, stopping in front of the window. He had his gun pointed at the running teenager.
He's just a kid, he thought. And they didn't know what they were dealing with. He could be innocent, possessed, or literally anything else. He couldn't pull the trigger.
He watched as the kid disappeared into the woods.
The boys convinced an upset Mrs. Tanner to come with them, and get some help. She was hurt and needed at least medical attention. Dean threw her husband's lifeless body in the trunk, and the brothers made a run for it.
They drove back to the town's center, Dean remembering a medical clinic opposite the little shop they had been to before. He parked the Impala on the curbside, Sam running ahead inside, supporting Mrs. Tanner.
The clinic was small, barely a hospital, but appropriate for a small town. It was somber and silent. No one seemed to be inside.
"Hello? Hello? We need a doctor here!" Sam yelled, hoping for a response as he steadied Mrs. Tanner.
A young, blonde girl in a nurse's outfit rounded the corner. He recognized her from his vision. Her eyes turned wide as she saw, who was clinging on to him.
"Mrs. Tanner, what happened?" She asked concerned.
"She's been attacked."
"Uh, the Doctor's at a house call at the moment. I don't know when she'll be back," the young nurse stammered.
She appeared nervous. It probably wasn't every day someone came into the small town clinic with injuries this severe. She looked around frantically before she pointed into a little room to the side.
"Put her in there. I can check her wounds."
Sam led Mrs. Tanner into the little examination room, placing her on the bed.
The glass door then swung open again, and Dean entered. He had wrapped Mr. Tanner's body in a canvas blanket, carrying in the deadweight body on his shoulders.
"Is that…" The nurse started to ask, but dropped the question, her eyes wide in shock.
"Mr. Tanner?" Dean offered her, and she nodded.
"Was he attacked too?"
"Uh…no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot," Dean replied casually. Her eyes grew wider in fear. "Don't worry, ma'am. U.S. Marshal."
That seemed to calm her a bit.
The door swung open once more, and Hayley hurried in, closing the door behind her. She looked cautiously outside before she turned around, and saw three blank faces staring back at her.
"Finally," Dean exclaimed a little breathlessly. The body on his shoulders was getting heavier.
"What the hell is going on here?" Hayley asked.
She seemed distressed. She then noticed the deadweight around Dean's shoulders, tilting her head with a frown. "Is that a corpse?"
"Yeah."
"You can put him in the other room, I'll show you," the nurse now offered him politely.
Dean followed her into the room next door, dropping off the body on a metal table before he went back to Hayley in the lobby.
"Hayles, what did you mean what's going on here?" Sam asked.
She had been unsettled the moment she had stepped foot into the clinic. It couldn't just be the dead body.
"Yeah, where the fuck were you this whole time?!" Dean glowered at her.
"Don't use that voice on me, Dean." She narrowed her eyes at him as he cowered before her, pursing his lips. She knew he was worried about something. But emotional control was still very much appreciated. "Wasn't my fault. Took me an hour to get in here."
"What do you mean?" Sam looked at her concerned.
"Well, for starters…road blocks. Town folk closed all entrances. They're guarding them too, all geared up. I don't know if they're possessed or what, but none of them looked friendly."
"Did they see you?" Dean asked, but she shook her head.
"No. Took a detour through the river and over the mountain. Wasn't sure what they were up to. Couldn't reach you guys either. I had Cisco track your car with the S.T.A.R. Labs satellite. When he found the Impala parked inside town, I came here."
"Yeah, phones are all dead, police radio…," Dean confirmed with a nod.
"Town's empty, too," Hayley added. Dean shot her a puzzled look.
"How? I was just outside, not ten minutes ago. There were still people running around."
"Not anymore." She sighed. "Shit. What the hell is this? Do you guys know what we're dealing with?" She looked anxiously from one brother to the other, but they both stared back emptily.
"No clue. Found Mrs. Tanner here as her son and husband attacked her," Dean explained.
"So, I'm guessing the dead guy is either Mr. Tanner or his son then?"
Dean nodded. "Husband, yeah. Son made a run for it, no thanks to Sam."
"I'm sorry, all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!"
"No, it was an it. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam," Dean scoffed. "Those guys were whacked out of their gourds."
"So, what are we thinking? Multiple demon possessions? Weird new monster breed?" Hayley asked.
"Maybe." Dean shrugged. "Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside."
"What do you mean?" Hayley raised her brows.
"When we got to town, Sam found the word Croatoan carved into a post outside," Dean replied, and she shot them a look, her eyes wide.
"Croatoan? As in whatever supposedly wiped out a whole colony 400 years ago?"
The brothers nodded.
"Great, thanks for the invite, boys."
"I don't know, guys. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs," Sam argued.
"How far is it to the next town?" Dean asked, looking at Hayley.
"About 40 miles. But Dean, you can't go out there. We don't know what we're up against."
"Well, we need to find some help," he argued. He expected her to debate him, but she just nodded reluctantly.
"I'm gonna check the body. See if there's any clues."
"Might also check Mrs. Tanner. I don't think the Doctor's coming back today," Sam said bitterly.
As soon as Dean left, Hayley started examining the corpse of Mr. Tanner. However, beside three bullet wounds in his chest, he seemed to have been an otherwise healthy individual.
She also drew some of his blood to make sure it wasn't just some new designer drugs they were dealing with. She prepared a few droplets on a glass slide in order to get a closer look under the microscope.
For that, she moved to Mrs. Tanner's examination room while Sam questioned the woman intensely. But she couldn't explain her family members' sudden violent nature either. They had just turned on her like that. The young nurse was also still standing by their side nervously.
"Holy fuck," Hayley muttered.
Sam's eyes immediately darted to her. "What?"
"I think it's a virus. His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high," she said carefully.
"A virus? Really, you think? What kinda virus would make people act this way?"
"I don't know. None I've ever heard of so far. But, there's more…" She let out a heavy breath. "There's residue of sulfur in his blood."
Sam looked at her shocked. "So you think it's a demonic virus?"
The other two women in the room turned their heads at them horrified.
"Demon…you think, you think my husband was…," Mrs. Tanner stuttered in disbelief. "Do you think it's in me?"
Hayley looked to Sam questioningly, but he hiked his shoulders. So far, she didn't know how the virus spread, or how to fend it off. She wished Caitlin was here. She was the expert when it came to the human body and weird diseases. Hayley was just a CSI with a chemistry degree.
"Mrs. Tanner, can I take a blood sample? Just to make sure the infection didn't catch you," Hayley said calmly, approaching the scared woman.
Mrs. Tanner nodded quietly. But as Hayley prepared the syringe, the woman suddenly grabbed her wrist. She was strong, too. Too strong for an older, smaller woman. With her grip tightly around Hayley's wrist, she flung her across the room, crashing into the wall.
The woman was screaming and yelling, flinging her arms around in a rage. Sam attacked her, but was also thrown into a metal medicine cabinet, the glass shattering above his head. He got back up, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall next to him, as Mrs. Tanner went for a scalpel. She leapt at him, but he swung the heavy extinguisher, hitting her in the face with it.
The enraged lunatic was knocked out cold and dropped to the floor.
Mrs. Tanner was still alive, so Sam locked her into a separate room, safely away from everyone else. There was no blood test necessary to determine if the virus had gotten her too. She was infected. That much was clear.
"Transmission mode seems to be direct contact with the infected blood," Hayley said with a sigh.
She had made herself comfortable on the floor in the lobby, papers sprawled out in front of her. She had gathered every research paper and medical book on viruses she could find in this clinic. Her brain hurt after speed-reading all of this. She was way in over her head with this one.
"And that's good?" Sam raised his brows questioningly.
"Well, could be worse. Could be airborne. At least this way, we know where it's coming from."
"Can you trace it back to its origins?"
She exhaled heavily. "Uh…I don't even know what it is. My best guess is, it didn't come from humans or animals."
"So, demons? But how?" Sam noticed his row of questions started to overwhelm her, and dialed back. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your area of expertise."
He looked apologetically at her, and she nodded frustrated.
"It's all right. I know you're worried, too." She smiled softly at him. "What was your vision about? Any clues there?"
"No, uh, no clues. But there's something else I wanted to talk to you about." He seemed hesitant, looking furtively at the door. "In my vision I saw Dean. And he shot someone – a young guy. Mrs. Tanner's other son."
"The one who wasn't home? You think he was infected too in your vision?"
But Sam just shrugged in response.
"I don't know. But we can't let Dean just waste him if we're not sure," he replied quietly.
"Agreed. But your brother's a good guy. I'll doubt he just shoot a kid if he wasn't sure."
Sam smiled softly. Hayley's optimism about his brother surprised him. He wished he had the same confidence in Dean.
Pam, the nurse hurried back into the room. She had been quietly sitting in the examination room, still shocked from Mrs. Tanner's unexpected attack. Now, she seemed to have gotten over the shock, and moved on to feel straight up panic.
"What if we all have it? What if we all go crazy?" She asked them, pacing the room nervously.
"Just stay calm. The, uh, other Marshall's getting help, okay?" Hayley tried to calm her.
She looked up at Sam to see if she had gotten the Marshall thing right. The brothers had way too many identities for her to keep up. One of these days she would slip. Luckily, not today.
However, the nurse was still on edge, almost trembling.
"I can't, I…I've got to go," Pam said, heading for the big glass door.
"Pam!" Sam called, running after her.
"No, you don't understand. My boyfriend's out there, I gotta make sure he's okay," she said, one hand on the door handle.
"All right, wait, wait. Please. Look, I know you're upset, all right? But it's safer if you stay here for now. Help is coming," Sam assured her, eyes pleading.
He knew if that young nurse stepped a foot outside, she would not make it. It was probably already too late for her boyfriend, anyways.
Their heads turned to the street outside, as Sam and Hayley recognized the sound of the Impala pulling back up on the curb. A few moments later, they heard banging on the glass door. They had closed it earlier for security purposes after Mrs. Tanner's attack. And they figured it would only be a matter of time before others found them here.
"Sammy? Hayles? Open up!" Dean's voice yelled from outside.
Sam unlocked the door, holding it open for his brother. But Dean wasn't alone. The military guy they had spoken to earlier about Duane Tanner was with him. Even odder was that they both held each other at gun point.
They dropped the guns, however, once they entered the lobby of the clinic fully. Sam closed and locked the door behind them again.
"Tell me you found a working phone," Hayley said, looking up at Dean from her place on the floor.
He furrowed her eyes at her. Cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books and papers. Her hair was a mess, and by the way she was using her pencil to scratch her head, he knew why. Whatever she had discovered while he was gone, it wasn't good by the looks of it.
"No chance. Road block was too tight," he replied before he shot a look at the Sergeant next to him. "Uh, Mark, I'm gonna have a word with the Doc and my partner here."
They told him to look after the nurse in the next room before the three returned to the real talk.
"What's going on out there, Dean?" Sam looked at him worriedly.
"Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man, I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you guys know?" Dean asked.
He hadn't seen anything like it. Hayley had been right about the road block. The town folk had geared up and were protecting their exits. They had told him it was for "quarantine purposes," but of course, he hadn't believed them. And then, they tried to attack him. On his escape, he had almost run over the Sergeant. And then, Dean almost got shot by him too.
All in all it wasn't a good day so far.
"I think it's a virus of demonic nature," Hayley said slowly. Her facial expression was so unhappy, he believed her immediately.
"Excuse me?" Dean swallowed hard.
It was probably the last thing he needed. And what the fuck was a demonic virus even?
"I found sulfur in Mr. and Mrs. Tanner's blood. It seems to stem from the virus," she replied, sorting through her papers.
"Wait, Mrs. Tanner?" Dean glanced at Sam, raising a brow.
"Yeah, tried to attack us earlier. She's infected too," his little brother replied.
"Which is why I believe the virus transmits through blood-to-blood contact. It also explains why they start acting violently. The virus wants to spread," Hayley mused.
"A demonic virus?" Dean asked again, still baffled.
Both nodded in response.
"Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I've been having visions," Sam added.
"It's like a Biblical plague," Dean grasped.
"Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony," Sam said.
Hayley threw her hands up in the air, upset.
"Thanks for telling me!" She protested.
It's not like she had been raking her brain for hours to find answers.
"I was about to before our little flight risk," Sam said with a smile, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to the nurse in the next room. Hayley huffed, but let it go. "Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence."
"Well, that, that's terrific. Why here, why now?" Dean scoffed.
As soon as his little brother had that vision, he should have driven in the opposite direction.
"I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people," Sam urged his brother.
Hayley's eyes turned wide. She hadn't thought about it so far. She had been too focused in trying to understand this supernatural virus, she had forgotten it could even affect her family in Central City. Sam was right, they needed to warn people. Maybe Iris could write an article, so everyone would know. But first she would need to get home.
"They've got one! In here!" They heard the Sergeant's voice yell down the corridor.
"Yeah, she's infected," Hayley informed him. "She should be safe in there."
"Safe? We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get," Mark told her.
"I might be able to save her. It's a virus. There's gotta be a cure for it," Hayley explained.
This wasn't the middle ages where you sent sick people off to an island to burn and die.
However, Dean didn't hesitate too long, and pulled out his gun.
"You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" The nurse's eyes turned wide again in shock.
"Hayles, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?" Sam asked, looking at her.
"Can you cure it?" Dean threw her a look now too.
"Well, I don't know. Probably. But cures usually take a few years to develop. I might be able to slow it down, though. Maybe holy water…" She shrugged her shoulders in anguish.
"Holy water? What kinda doctor are you?" the Sergeant shot her a sharp look. The brothers' wide eyes darted to her as well.
"Uh, the PhD kind. Look, man, I don't know what to tell you, but I'm pretty much your best and only shot right now," Hayley replied confidently.
She had no idea what she was doing, but it was better than nothing. And no one else was around to do it either.
"She's right, you know," Dean agreed.
The Sergeant nodded compliantly. Even he knew there were no other options besides the few people in this room.
"But I'm telling you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through," Mark still urged them.
"Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!" Pam protested.
"She's right. It's inhumane," Hayley agreed, looking frantically at the boys. "Guys?"
Dean let out a breath. On one hand, he considered her plea. Hayley was the moral compass of their group. He knew she was right, and killing someone because of a disease was wrong.
On the other hand, he knew Hayley would always look for other options. Her endless optimism wouldn't allow her to think otherwise. She wouldn't agree to killing anyone unless she was backed up against a wall.
In this case, it would mean Mrs. Tanner would break free, infect one of them, or even kill, and then she might reevaluate their options. By then, it would be too late.
His eyes fell on the gun in his hands. He couldn't let that happen.
"Sam." Dean looked at his brother, nodding to the door.
He could hear Hayley screaming at him, but he had to blank her.
Mark and Dean stood steadily, guns raised at the ready. Sam nodded at them before he opened the door to the storage room, where they kept Mrs. Tanner. She was cowering on the floor in the far end corner of the room, knees up to her chin, shaking profusely. She looked like an addict who went cold turkey, and was sweating out her cravings now.
The Sergeant set the first foot in, Dean not far behind him. When they entered, the woman looked startled and jumped back like she was scared of them.
"Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them! They locked me in here, they, they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!" She whimpered, looking beseechingly at the Sergeant.
"You sure she's one of 'em?" Dean glanced back to his little brother.
Why couldn't she be a vicious monster like the rest of them? This made it so much harder.
Mark had a hard time too. He didn't seem to be sure either with this decision anymore, tears coming to his eyes.
But Sam nodded at his brother. He was sure she was infected. Hayley had even tested her blood. The virus was in her. Still, he hated the fact they had to kill her. He wanted Hayley to find a cure, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Not this fast any way. And they needed help now.
The Sergeant pulled back, too upset to kill the woman he once called his neighbor. However, Dean took a step forward after Sam's confirmation. The woman shrieked in fear, holding up her hands to protect her from the bullets. He aimed his gun, and pulled the trigger twice.
Hayley flinched at every report. She couldn't take it. She had to do something. But what?
When Dean left the storage room, he noticed she had left. He didn't want to know what she was thinking. Chances were high, she would leave after this case for good.
An hour had passed quietly without any more incidents. It had gotten dark outside, and they drew the blinds of the clinic down to avoid any unsolicited visitors.
The boys had occupied themselves with getting the arsenal ready. They cleaned and loaded their guns, and sharpened their knives. They even managed to make explosives out of the containers of Potassium Chloride they found in the clinic. They were ready for anything that would be coming through that door.
Hayley hadn't taken her eyes off the microscope since Mrs. Tanner. She had tried several things to cure this virus already. She knew modern medicine wouldn't help her shit with this sort of disease. So she tried mixing holy water into the blood. But the blood started to boil and dissolve. Probably not a good thing to do to someone. She tried exorcising it, but nothing happened aside from her looking like a fool, sitting in front of a vile of blood with a rosary in her hands, speaking Latin words to it.
"How's it going?"
She looked up from her microscrope at Dean, who leaned against the door frame. He looked sympathetically at her, but still kept a safety distance between them. He didn't want her to rip his head off straightaway.
"Everything fucking sucks," she pouted. She leaned back in her chair, sighing heavily.
He nodded in agreement. Everything did fucking suck.
"Still mad at me?"
"I wasn't mad at you…"
If her eyes hadn't been glued to the floor while she said it, he almost would've believed her.
"If you're gonna tell me you're disappointed, I'd like to tell you that's even worse," he joked.
To his surprise, she even laughed quietly.
"I was gonna say, I was mad at myself. Not you. Sorry, I yelled. Truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing or how to stop this thing." She let out a frustrated breath. "I know you did what you thought was right."
"Really thought you wouldn't agree with me here." His eyes looked at her baffled.
"Well, I don't. But I think we don't have to agree all the time, do we? I know you're a good guy, who's trying to do right. That's good enough for me." She shrugged her shoulders. "But Dean…you still can't kill that guy from Sam's vision before I know for sure he's infected."
His response was interrupted by loud banging on the glass front door in the lobby. Someone was knocking profusely, yelling and begging to get in.
"It's Duane Tanner!" Mark informed them. He opened the door before waiting for their approval, and a young boy jumped inside the lobby, limping on one foot.
"Thank God," the young man huffed. He seemed relived to have found shelter.
"Duane, you okay?" The Sergeant asked, helping the boy inside.
Dean shot a look at Sam, standing behind him. "That's the guy that I, uh…" He clicked his tongue to insinuate the word "shoot."
"Yeah," Sam confirmed unhappy with his brother's ease at the subject matter.
"Who else is in here?" Duane asked, stepping his feet forward into the clinic.
But Dean was quick to grab the boy by his arm, holding him back. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief," he cautioned the boy before he turned his attention to Hayley. "Hayles, give Duane a good once-over, would you?"
She nodded relieved. At least, he would let her test the young man before he made his final judgment call. By the way Dean had grabbed the boy, she almost expected him to drag him into the next room, and shoot him then and there without any further notice.
"Who are you?" Duane questioned, looking bewildered at Dean. He had every right to be nervous.
"Never mind who I am." Dean didn't even look at him. Instead he just nodded at Hayley with a stern look. "Hayles?"
"Yeah, I'll test him. Just chill," she told him off.
She hated it when he acted like this. The only reason she let it slip was because she knew it came from a place of love and concern. But Dean Winchester should definitely come with a warning sign: May Bark If Stressed. The more worried he got, the more of an ass he became.
Hayley led Duane into the examination room, and sat him down on a little stool where his mother had sat before him. No one had mentioned his parents' deaths to him yet. The poor boy would probably be even more frightened of them if they did.
"Duane. Where you been?" The Sergeant interrogated him carefully while Hayley rolled up Duane's sleeve.
The syringe pierced through his skin and she took just enough blood to have a viable sample.
"On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I…I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since," Duane explained, still shocked from the events he had witnessed. He then anxiously looked around the room. "Has anybody seen my Mom and Dad?"
"Awkward…," Dean whispered jokingly to Sam. But his brother didn't look one bit amused.
"You're bleeding." Hayley noticed Duane had scraped his right knee open. His jeans was torn, and there was a pool of dried blood around it.
"Where'd you get that?" Dean's eyes glared at the young man, who was squirming uncomfortably in his seat.
"I was running, I must have tripped," he replied quickly, his eyes wide.
"Tie him up, there's rope in there," Dean ordered Sam.
"Wait…," Duane pleaded, holding up his hands defensively.
With one swift motion Dean pulled out his gun from behind his back, aiming it at the kid. "Sit down!"
Hayley shot him a sharp side-eye, glancing up ever so slightly from the microscope.
"I'm sorry, Duane, he's right. We've gotta be careful," Mark agreed with Dean.
"Careful? About what?" Duane's eyes moved between the two.
"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asked tersely.
"No, what the hell? No!" Duane exclaimed.
"Hayles? You know if he's infected yet?" Sam questioned.
"His blood is clear. For now. But I've studied the Tanners' bloodwork…"
"My parents!" Duane's ears peaked at their mention.
"It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so…no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns," Hayley explained, ignoring the young man to her side. She surely wouldn't be the one to tell him what happened to his parents.
By the brothers' looks, she knew what they were thinking.
Dean wouldn't wait for the guy to turn. He wanted to avoid all risks.
Sam, on the other hand, looked concerned. He wouldn't let Dean shoot an innocent man just to be safe.
The brothers excused themselves into another room while the Sergeant tied Duane to his chair.
"This is my vision, Dean. It's happening," Sam confirmed his older brother as they were out of earshot from the others.
"Yeah, I figured," Dean said simply.
"You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not," Sam reprimanded him.
"Well, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?" Dean argued.
"All right, then we should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see."
"For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." He ended the conversation as fast as it had begun. He had made up his mind.
He pushed past his little brother, but was stopped by Sam's hand landing on his chest.
Dean sighed. "Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that."
"It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point." Sam narrowed his eyes.
"What does that buy us?" Dean shrugged at him.
Sam couldn't believe the nerve of his brother.
"A clear conscience, for one!"
"Well, it's too late for that," Dean replied, heading for the door again.
He felt guilty about so many things already, it really didn't matter if he added one more.
"What the hell's happened to you?" Sam confronted him.
"What?"
"You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there," Sam threw at him.
He was shocked at Dean's behavior. He knew he had struggled ever since their father's death. And then finding out about the deal their dad made…But he couldn't watch his older brother lose himself like this.
"Mm-hmm," Dean replied coldly.
He didn't look at Sam. He couldn't. His little brother basically had just called him a monster. Is that what he really thought?
Angrily, he pushed past Sam again. This time it was harder. And this time when Sam tried to stop him once more, Dean threw him into the next wall. He quickly made his exit, locking the door behind him.
Sam was fast to get up, running to the locked door. He was yelling hysterically after his brother. But it was too late. Dean entered the examination room, completing Sam's vision.
"Maybe he's tellin' the truth," the Sergeant said, looking at Dean, who had just walked in, gun raised.
"He's not him, not anymore," he replied sternly.
"No, stop it! Stop it! Ask her! It's not in me, I swear!" The young man pleaded, tears in his eyes. The desperation was written across his entire face.
He looked helplessly over to Hayley.
Her eyes were wide, panicked. She didn't know what to say. "I…I don't know. I can't tell for sure."
She looked at Dean entreatingly, but he averted her gaze. His focus lied at the target in front of him.
Think fast.
"Dean, you know I can stop you. But I won't. If you really want to kill an innocent guy, go ahead. But I think it's wrong."
He shot her a look. She looked hurt. Like everything she had believed about him, had been wrong. Then he could hear his brother's desperate cries coming from outside.
They were both a pain in his ass.
He turned his head back at Duane, who whimpered and cried desperately before him, trembling in his chair.
"I got no choice." He raised his gun, ready to pull the trigger and end this.
You're acting like one of those things out there.
I know you're a good guy, who's trying to do right.
We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point.
It's wrong.
Dean hesitated. He couldn't get their voices out of his head. They both would hate him if he went through with this. And he didn't want that to happen. He didn't want them to hate him.
His hands trembled, and he finally dropped the gun, shaking his head in frustration.
"Damnit!" He rapidly disappeared out of the room.
Hayley sighed relieved. She knew she could believe in him.
The rest of the night was quiet. No more visitors came to the clinic. It was almost 1 AM, hours had passed since the incident. Hayley had left the brothers alone while she stayed with Pam, Mark, and Duane in the exam room.
"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. Can I tell the Sarge to untie him? If that's okay with you?" She asked carefully, peeking her head inside the little arsenal room.
The brothers were preparing more bombs for their great escape.
The boys shared a look. Sam nodded at Hayley while Dean's eyes didn't leave the floor, averting her gaze. He was embarrassed somehow. He would've killed him if it hadn't been for…
"Sure. Yeah." Sam replied with a soft smile. He was grateful they had sidestepped this tragedy for once.
However, Hayley didn't leave, leaning patiently against the door frame, staring at Dean. She wouldn't leave until he talked to her. Until she knew he was okay.
Sam cleared his throat, noticing the tension. "Uh, I'm gonna grab more alcohol."
He excused himself awkwardly out the door, passing Hayley. She had to chuckle on the inside about his elegancy.
"Dean...," she said after a moment of silence. He probably wouldn't start the conversation on his own.
"I would've killed him. You know that right?" His eyes darted straight to her.
She was almost shocked at his blatant honesty.
"But you didn't. And I don't believe you would have. That's not you."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And you know that how?"
"Because I see how much you care about Sam. You're kind, and compassionate. I know you want to save people no matter what. You care even when you pretend your hardest you don't. And if I didn't believe all those things about you, if I didn't believe in you…I wouldn't be here. Truth is, you're actually a decent fucking human being, Winchester. So stop torturing yourself."
He didn't have enough time to consider if Hayley's speech actually helped him or terrified him. The two were interrupted by screams and a series of thuds coming from the dispensary down the hall.
They ran down the corridor, only to find the door locked. The two were joined by Duane and Mark. But there was no sight of Pam and Sam.
They realized the nurse had started attacking Sam. In a hurry, Dean tried to kick the door down. It took him a few tries and a little help from the Sarge before he burst it open.
Sam was lying on the floor. The nurse had pinned him down, a scalpel in her hand. Dean aimed his gun, firing multiple times until the blonde collapsed on top of Sam.
He rolled her deadweight off him as Dean tried to help him to his feet. But his older brother was stopped by the Sergeant, who held him back warningly.
"She bled on him," he stated carefully.
Hayley and Dean followed the Sarge's eyes to Sam's wound. The nurse had cut his chest open. He had to be infected. There was no way he could have survived the attack virus-free.
Dean paced the examination room. In the heaviness of each step, his anger shone through.
Sam was now the third person, taking a seat on the little stool. Hayley was next to him, her hand comfortingly on his back.
It was surreal. She knew Pam's attack had been a death sentence. She should have seen it and tested her sooner. She seemed skittish from the start. She should have done her due diligence, and this wouldn't have happened.
Now, all she could do was say goodbye.
"Hayles, check his wound again," Dean ordered her.
His voice was even angrier than his steps. He wouldn't lose his brother. He couldn't lose him.
"What's she need to examine him for? You saw what happened," Mark argued.
"Did her blood actually enter your wound? You're a hundred per cent sure about this?"
She had asked Sam this a million times by now. She still hoped the answer would change. Like a magic eight ball. Ask again later.
"Come on, of course it did!" The Sergeant argued even louder now, throwing his hands in the air.
"We don't know that for sure," Dean said defensively.
"We can't take a chance," Duane chimed in.
Funny how the kid thought he had any say in this. If he came any closer to Sam, Dean would still shoot him. Infected or not.
"You know what we have to do," Mark pressured.
"Nobody is shooting my brother," Dean warned them.
"He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself," Duane continued.
"Nobody is shooting anyone!"
"You were gonna shoot me!" Duane threw in upset.
"Yeah? Get in line!" Hayley told Duane off, glowering at him.
"You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!" Dean threatened Duane angrily.
"Guys, they're right. I'm infected. Just give me the gun and I'll do it myself," Sam said and the room became quiet.
"Forget it," Dean replied stubbornly.
"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things."
"Sam, we've still got some time."
"Time for what?" Mark asked, and Dean looked at him. "Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this."
With that, the Sergeant drew his firearm.
"I'm gonna say this one time – you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!" Dean charged at him.
He was furious. No one would ever harm his brother.
"Then what are we supposed to do?!" The Sergeant furrowed his brow.
"Hayles, can you get them out?" Dean turned to Hayley, who jumped back alarmed.
What did he mean by them?
"Yeah," she answered carefully, narrowing her eyes.
What the hell was his plan?
"Okay, you get those two out of here. Take the arsenal and the explosives with you just in case you run into trouble," Dean told her.
He pulled out the gun, tugged behind his jeans, and dropped it into her hands.
She took it with reluctance, but mostly confusion. "What about you, Dean?"
He hesitated. The room fell silent again.
"Dean, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!" Sam shouted upset.
He couldn't believe his brother would be this dumb.
"We're gonna gather the weapons, leave you three to say goodbye," the Sergeant said. He dragged Duane out of the room with him.
"Dean, you can't be serious. You can't stay here," Hayley argued. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes.
"Dean…" Sam's eyes brimmed with tears as well.
"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy." A soft smile appeared on Dean's face as he glanced back at Sam.
"Here," he said, turning back to Hayley. He dangled the keys of the Impala in front of her. "Take good care of her."
"Uh…Dean," she stammered, crossing her arms behind her back. She glanced at Sam before her eyes fell back to Dean. "Well, since you guys are on your death bed and all…there's something you should know. Dean, I, uh…"
He looked at her nervously, knitting his brows. What the hell was she about to say?
"I don't know how to drive. Actually failed my driver's test eight times."
Her face turned from serious to a grin. Sam started to laugh.
Dean, on the other hand, frowned. All this time he had spent training her, and she couldn't even drive?! It would've been the first thing he had taught her. Worst of all, now his Baby's faith was in the hands of an inexperienced driver.
He sighed. "Don't. Wreck. Her."
He gripped the keys tightly in his palm for the last time before he let them drop into her hands.
She sped over to Sam, and hugged him tightly goodbye. Then she hugged Dean for a good minute before she let him go.
"I'm really gonna miss you guys. Not sure how I'm supposed to do this without you," she said quietly, almost sobbing.
Dean grabbed her shoulders. "Hey, listen to me. You're gonna go home and figure this thing out. And once it's over, you're gonna forget about this hellish nightmare, have a couple of super-babies, and keep saving kittens from trees, okay?"
Among her tears was a laugh. But she couldn't reply. Duane and the Sergeant had geared up, and were ready to go.
She looked back one more time at the brothers before she disappeared into lightning.
Dean shut the door behind her. It was quiet again.
"Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something," Dean broke the silence, joking. He leaned his back against the wall opposite Sam.
"Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here," Sam pleaded.
"No way," Dean shook his head with a smile.
"Give me my gun, and leave," Sam ordered him now.
Dean's smile faded.
"For the last time, Sam. No." He looked sternly at his younger brother.
"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done," Sam said angrily, slamming his fists on the little metal table next to him. The instruments on it trembled at the impact.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?" Dean replied jokingly, shuddering at the thought of it.
Sam frowned. "Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."
His tone grew calmer again. Anger never got him anywhere with his older brother.
"No?"
"No, you can keep going."
"Who says I want to?"
"What?"
There was silence again.
He broke Sam's gaze and walked to the other side of the room. He sat down on a little file cabinet against the wall. He let out a deep breath.
"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life…this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it," he said slowly, staring down at his feet.
He could feel the tears form in his eyes. He just wanted everything to be over. It was too hard.
"So what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die?"
Sam shook his head in disbelief. His brother had always been the strong one. He almost didn't recognize Dean like this.
"Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has…"
"You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…"
…the other part is the fact I might have to kill you.
But he couldn't say it. What did it matter now anyways? They only had a few hours left.
They were interrupted by frantic knocking on the metal door.
"Guys! Guys! Come out! You need to see this!" Hayley's voice echoed through the examination room.
Dean opened the door, furrowing his brow at her in surprise as she stepped in – a wide grin on her face.
"Guys, I think it's over," she announced cheerfully.
"What is over? The virus?" Dean raised his brows questioningly.
"How?" Sam asked, looking curiously at her.
"Uh, I don't know." Her smile faded, and she shrugged her shoulders.
The brothers shared a confused look.
"But there were no more road blocks. And all the town's people? Poof. Gone. Just like the colony."
"What?!" The brothers said simultaneously.
"I know!" She threw her hands in the air.
"And the Sarge and Duane?" Dean asked.
"Oh, I got them to the boarder, and they took one of the abandoned cars."
"Am I still infected? Am I just gonna disappear?" Sam looked at her with worry in his eyes.
"Let's find out."
Four more hours had passed, and the sun was rising on the horizon again, filling the clinic with natural light instead of the fluorescent synthetic beams. And after all these hours, Sam's blood still appeared to be clean.
"Well, looks like you're healthy as can be. Virus-free," Hayley declared with a happy smile.
"But how? I was infected."
Sam shook his head in confusion. How could he come out of this scratch-free? The nurse's blood clearly entered his. There was no way around it.
"Uh, I don't know. I mean, the virus also disappeared in the Tanners' samples. Guess some things can't be explained," Hayley replied nervously.
She didn't want to voice her worst suspicions out loud.
But Sam nodded in response. He noticed Dean stared at him baffled. "Hey man, don't look at me. I got no clue."
"I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one." Dean rubbed his face. "I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fucking melted."
"Why was I immune?" Sam threw in.
"Yeah. You know what? That's a good question."
He glanced at Hayley. She seemed skittish. There was lip biting. Oh, no…
"Really feels like the one that got away… Anyways, Sam, go pack up the car."
He threw the keys of the Impala at Sam, who took his order without question, and disappeared out the door.
Dean waited a moment, looking around the corner furtively before he heard the front door close.
"Okay, Speedy, shoot. What's your theory?" He looked at her intensely.
She sighed, pursing her lips. "I don't exactly have a theory…but if I were a demon and wanted to see how effective my virus was…I'd perform an experiment. Have a, uh, control group. The control group in this particular case being…Sam."
"Sam?" Dean's eyes were wide.
"As far as I can tell, yeah. Look, there's only two ways Sam could've been immune. Either he is, or that bitch did it wrong and it wasn't enough. But I think Sam's vision should have been the biggest clue. His visions always have to do with the Demon, the Demon has plans for Sam, and Mrs. Tanner and Pam both went after Sam, trying to infect him. They only attacked one of us when we were in the way. Sam told me the nurse said she had 'wanted to get him alone for a while.'"
"Super."
Dean kicked the metal trash can next to him, flinging it to its side.
"Dean…we have to tell him."
"Tell him what?"
"You know what. Sam needs to know. Look, we can't figure this out on our own. Clearly. Just look at this whole day. There was no way we could've stopped any of it. He needs to know what's coming. He can't run in blind. You taught me that," Hayley said determinedly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "More importantly, it's destroying you. You were ready to die today. And for what? So Sam wouldn't have to be alone? Or you didn't have to be? Well, I have news for you, Winchester…you're not alone."
"My Dad told me to protect him, Hayles." Dean's eyes glistened with tears. He avoided her gaze.
"Your dad also told me to protect you. And I didn't obey today, if you might've noticed. Because I knew that's not what you would've wanted."
He glanced at her. It was true. His father had told her that. And she hadn't sped Dean's ass out of harm's way today.
"Maybe we should stop doing what your dad wants, and start doing what we think is right. And that starts by telling Sam the truth, asking what he thinks is the right thing to do. It's his life. At least, then he knows what to look out for."
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll talk to him. I'll handle it…he's my little brother. You go home. It's been a long day for you, too."
He smiled softly at her, patting her on the shoulder as he passed her.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"At least, get some sleep before. You look like crap," she told him.
He nodded, chuckling. "Thanks, Hayles. You're a good friend."
She smiled. "You're a good brother."
Of course, the brothers hadn't been able to sleep yet. Sam had been adamant to keep driving. So Dean spent another six hours in a car instead of a bed. They were close to Ontario, which was on the border to Idaho. A river drew the state line, separating the two.
Dean parked the Impala at a recreational area near said river. It was late in the afternoon, and the brothers had grabbed some beers at a gas station on their way here. They were planning to spend the night in a motel in town, get some goodnight's sleep (as much as they possibly could), and hit the road the next day again.
There was a small wooden fence, bordering the river. The boys leaned against it, watching the stream quietly, and sipping on their beers. They hadn't talked much since they had left the clinic this morning. Dean had been too tired, barely keeping his eyes on the road, and Sam still had to sort through the past twenty-four hours properly. His head kept spinning.
"So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?" Sam shot his older brother a sharp look.
Dean jumped back surprised. It had been so long, he had hoped his brother would've just dropped it. But that wasn't Sammy.
"What do you mean?"He tried to deflect.
Hayley was right. He deserved some shuteye before facing hurricane Sam. Otherwise, his little brother would have an unfair advantage over him.
"What do I mean? I mean you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn't just because of Dad." Sam's voice still remained calm.
He knew his brother had been keeping something from him. Ever since their father's death, Dean had changed somehow. He needed more information.
"Forget it," Dean dismissed him. His eyes fell to his shoes.
"No, I can't. No way." Sam shook his head rebelliously.
He wouldn't be treated as a child anymore. He had done enough to deserve some answers.
"Come on man, I thought we were both going to die, you can't hold that over me. Hayles confessed to her sins." Dean shrugged, trying to distract him.
"No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking," Sam demanded.
"And what if I don't?" Dean mused teasingly.
"Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do," Sam contorted.
Dean groaned. Sam possessed the ability to torture him endlessly with his constant nagging. Still, maybe Dean could prolong the conversation for a few more days.
"I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to…go to the Grand Canyon," he suggested out of thin air.
"What?" Sam cocked his eyebrow confused.
"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood, see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan," Dean joked, awkwardly chuckling. He was babbling, which meant a losing battle for him.
"You're not making any sense."
"I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?"
He thought of Hayley – safely at home, having dinner with her family, hanging out with her friends, going to bed in her own space…
He wanted that. Now more than ever. It was surely better than the knee-deep crap they were stuck in.
"Why are you saying all this?" Sam asked, searching for an answer in his brother's face.
But Dean's gaze lowered to the ground, shaking his head reluctantly.
"No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit."
Sam hated his brother's constant martyrdom. They were both in this together.
"I can't. I promised," Dean said quietly. He could feel the lump in his throat growing bigger.
"Who?"
"Dad," he replied casually.
"What are you talking about?" The confusion was obviously visible in Sam's face.
"Right before Dad died, he told me something." Dean's eyes darted to Sam. He took a deep breath before he continued. "He told me something about you."
"What? Dean, what did he tell you?" Sam's confusion shifted to plain worry.
"He said that he wanted me to watch out for you…to take care of you," Dean said. But the phrasing of his message didn't make much sense to Sam.
"He told you that a million times."
Sam shook his head, not understanding what his older brother was trying to tell him. He already knew Dean was looking out for him. He had been since Sam was six months old.
"No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you."
He still couldn't look his brother in the eye. Did he really have to tell him everything?
"Save me from what?" Sam furrowed his brow.
"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered. And that if I couldn't, I'd…"
But he couldn't finish his sentence. He couldn't say it. It was ridiculous to say it out loud.
"You'd what, Dean?" A subtle tone of anger mixed into Sam's voice.
"That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."
Dean looked up for the first time in ages. Tears were brimming in his eyes.
"Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Sam swallowed hard. He was angry, confused. But mostly he was just plain scared.
"I don't know." The lump in his throat was closing in again. Dean's words barely reached Sam's ears.
"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark-side or something? What else did he say, Dean?" Sam prompted. How long had his brother been holding on to this information? What else was he hiding? Or was that everything?
"Nothing, that's it, I swear" Dean promised him.
Sam nodded. He walked over to the fence, leaning his elbows on the railing. His eyes focused on the downstream of the river.
"How could you not have told me this?"
"Because it was Dad, and he told us not to," Dean said heatedly. But his emotions were exactly what made him trip.
"Us? Wait, does Hayley know too?" Sam's voice filled with fury.
Dean groaned. "Yes. Yeah, Hayles knows. Dad told her before he told me. That's why she was supposed to watch us."
"What?! And you two have been keeping this from me? Is that why you and Hayley sneak around all the time? To discuss how to best off me? So what, now you trust someone you wanted to kill just a few months ago more than your own brother?" Sam was fuming, glowering at him.
"No, of course not!" Dean retorted. Now he was getting angry. How could Sam even think that? "C'mon, Sam. You know Hayley was just trying to help. We just did what we were told."
"Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!" Sam shouted.
"You think I wanted this? Huh?" He stomped closer to Sam, looking at him. "I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day."
The anger subsided and was replaced by terror. He had suffered nightmares for months. If it weren't for copious amounts of booze, he wouldn't sleep at all. The thought of killing the person that mattered most to him was unbearable, agonizing, and utterly excruciating. Most of all, it was impossible. It would never happen. He wasn't a coward, but he didn't have the spine or the guts to kill his little brother.
Sam was enraged. He turned his back to Dean, bringing some space between them. The river fell back into his sight. "We've just got to figure out what's going on, then. What the hell all this means."
They needed a game plan.
"We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure…," Dean tried to plead, but was promptly interrupted.
"What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?" Sam's vocal chords were heating back up.
"I never said that," Dean threw in.
"Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean," Sam scoffed.
"I never said that!" Dean shouted. The frustration mixed with panic was visible in his face.
"Damnit, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control. All right? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, which Hayley thinks you were the target of some demonic experiment, and I don't even know what the hell anymore."
Saying it out lout made him just freak out more.
"And you're pissed at me, at Hayley, at all of us, I get it. That's fine, we deserve it. I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"
"Forget it." Sam shook his head disobediently. He wouldn't take orders from anyone anymore.
"Sam, please, man. Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please." Dean's eyes twinkled with despair.
He needed a break. He needed a break so fucking bad. He couldn't keep running anymore.
There was a moment of silence. Sam hesitated, but by looking at his brother he knew arguing wouldn't lead to anything. With much reluctance, he nodded, and Dean let out a relieved sigh.
Sam needed to do this alone.
A/N:
Thank you so much for your continued support!
Really weird publishing this chapter during a pandemic, but at least it helped out with a little virus knowledge.
To all my Dean/Hayley shippers, sorry for the rough start to this chapter. Couldn't resist to get you a little frustarted. But their relationship will heat up slowly in the next chapters and definitely will be more direct by the end of Part 2. (It's already on paper, so trust me). Don't you worry, a reward is coming ;)
I also opened up a tumblr under flashxspn. It's nothing regularly, but I'll try to post a few gifs now and then. You can also ask me questions and if time allows, I'm even open to writing prompts regarding future plot lines or just fun exercises with these characters.
Hope you have a great week. Stay safe and stay healthy!