This was supposed to be a simple hunt, you know. A simple hunt with vampires. No demons or angels to worry about for a few days.
Who was he kidding how can they not worry about them, mainly the angels. Especially when you're currently in the aftermath of a situation where you manipulated your younger brother into being possessed. Nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about when Sam refuses to be in the same room as him for more than two minutes.
Refuses to say more than "I'm fine" with a hoarse voice after screaming in Enochian or Latin from a nightmare.
God, he misses the days where Sam would let himself get angry. Let himself yell and vent about what's bothering him or what the other person is doing wrong. Sure, him and Dad hated when Sam acted like that. Even told him to "Grow up" a few times. But this, this passive-aggressive avoidance and almost silent treatment. He never considered that would be worse.
So yeah when he saw the chance to go on a hunt, a fairly simple hunt. He was fucking ecstatic. Especially when the now rarely speaking Sam agreed to come along. Sure the ride was quiet, nothing like before. But at least they had music to fill in the tense and uncomfortable silence. Then it had been easy to track the supposed Vampires' nest that had been killing tourists from out of town. It had been simple, too simple. That should've been their red herring because now here he is attempting to get through to his baby brother. A brother who had been forced to drink a substance that is very addictive and has a very painful detox. Add on the fact that it isn't normal demon blood like he used to consume, nope it's a freaking Knight of Hell's blood. Which means it may make him more powerful and likely be lethal to detox from.
'Should of let Cas come along… dammit.'
He hasn't even included the part where said brother either drained the remaining demons or mentally murdered them. Yeah, that's gonna be in his nightmares for a while. Especially since he couldn't do a damn thing to stop him or get through to him.
That's beside the point, now they have to figure out what to do next. How Sam's gonna detox, and how he's gonna get through to him for God's sake.
"Sam? Sam, are you hearing me?" he questions worryingly shaking Sam's shoulder. His eyes are staring straight ahead seeing through him. Dean had just been about to answer Sam's fear-filled question when his eyes had started to lose focus, and he stopped reacting to the sound of his older brother's voice altogether.
"Sam? Sammy come on this isn't funny we gotta go, and I don't feel like carrying your ass so… so" Dean stops as he sees Sam's eyes attempting to focus a tad. Looking closer he could see his blown pupils and a small ring of hazel.
Continuing to survey his slumped form, the older Winchester notices the movement of Sam's lips. Leaning in closer, an ear close enough to feel his ragged breaths Dean could just about make out what he's saying.
"Opus magis. Opus magis. Opus magis. Magis potestate. Magis potestate. Magis potestate. Magis sanguine. Magis sanguine. Magis sanguine. Ego te si necessarium sit."
'That's definitely Latin'.
It's not that he doesn't know Latin, it just takes him a bit longer to translate it. That's why he would leave the exorcisms to Sam most of the time and prefers to use the demon knife. Besides, the damn kid is fluent in it.
After taking a few minutes to wrap his head around a translation, it clicks. And he realizes how fucked they truly are. With that, he jumps into action.
"Alright well…that means we should get on our way then," he utters with a false smile and underlining caution. While speaking he even pats his shoulder. Yeah, not one of his smartest ideas, because this causes Sam's eyes to focus, and then his pupils expand even more until they consume his entire eye.
'Son of a-'
He never finishes that thought as Sam quickly takes the upper hand and flings him to the wall without laying a finger on him. The impact hard enough to elicit dust from the depilated wall, as well as cause a sharp pain in his ribs and spine. Once he's able to catch his breath and shake his head from its daze he takes in the character in front of him.
His younger brother is a small distance away from him, right hand outstretched toward him keeping Dean incapacitated. His eyes are as black as the outside sky, though his skin is pale, sickly. Face displaying no emotion, no excitement nor horror at what he's 'not him' doing, just simply blank, vacant.
"Sam… S-Sammy come on... it's me" he rasps trying to suppress the pain throbbing in his back.
There's no acknowledgment nor response for a few minutes, until finally, he answers back, "Vos iustus volo prohibere mihi eam nobis". His voice having a dark undertone to it this time, acting as an echo or shadow of his normally friendly tone. Seeming to be all he needed to say, his outstretched hand slowly begins closing into a fist. This dials the pain in Dean's body from about a four to a fifteen right away. His lungs slowly losing their ability to take in air, and his head beginning to pound with fury. He manages to suppress a shout because he won't give the blood influencing Sam the satisfaction.
Running out of options and time he continues attempting to get through to his brother with what little breath he has left. "S-Sam! Snap o-out of it… come on I-I know you can hear me!" he shouts wheezing as his air supply continues to lessen.
This seems to strike a nerve as Sam's forehead seems to pinch in pain, finally differing from his previous impassive face. His hand and arm twitching as if it's getting harder to stay in control. His mouth opening and closing a few times as if attempting to figure out the right words to say.
"D-Dean?" Sam finally speaks brokenly, though the dark undertone is less obvious which causes Dean some relief. "Aw God Dean… I-I hear i-it, the blood it's s-so loud." He says through gritted teeth and blood that is starting to form on his top lip from both nostrils. Then without warning his still black eyes roll to the back of his head and his body crumples to the floor, similar to a puppet with its strings cut.
His feet are now able to reach the floor when Sam collapses and Dean feels the oxygen return to his sore lungs and the painful pounding in his head dull. Moving closer to his baby brother's limp form he could feel the bruising now on his ribs meet contact with his flannel which causes him to hiss in pain.
'Sammy you are so getting me pie after this is all dealt with'
Dropping to his knees next to him, the older Winchester notices the familiar hazel eyes through half-closed eyelids and breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't know how much longer he could've dealt with seeing that darkness in his normally quiet and sweet brother's eyes. Hearing about it was a way different experience from actually witnessing it ('Your eyes went black?'). Once again, another for the nightmare list.
To ensure he's truly unconscious and not in a coma he places two fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse. 'Kind of fast, but I've seen worse.' Making his mind up on what to do as not wanting to waste any more time he speaks out loud "Well looks like we're doing this the old fashion way"
Then he moves to a place above Sam's head and places his hands under his shoulders while bracing for the extra weight, "Alright 1… 2… 3!" On three Sam's limp form is lifted off the ground and this expectedly causes Dean to grit his teeth in pain. ' For sure have a bruised back and ribs'. Hastily he brings his brother's form upright and places said brother's arm along his shoulders.
"Wow, Sammy, you're way lighter than you look" he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood as well as prevent focus on his own pain. But all it accomplishes is to remind him of how little Sam had eaten since Kevin and Gadreel.
Deciding to shift his focus to the present, the older Winchester makes the journey to the factory's entrance while ensuring the grip on Sammy's body is tight. Before walking out to the dirt path in front of the building he takes a quick look at the bodies still scattered on the premises. 'Sorry guys, but my brother comes first'. With this, he also promises to send in an anonymous call to the local police department when they get far enough away. Then they both stepped (Well Dean controlled that) out into the darkness once again with Dean carrying Sam out of the now metaphorical flames.
After about a mile's walk, one unconscious brother and one very tired one were able to make it back to the impala. 'If only we could've known how this hunt would turn out because then I wouldn't have parked baby so far' Dean internally complains. During the trip, Sam hadn't stirred, well except for the very hushed mumblings primarily in Latin from time to time. While that should've been reassuring, all it did was make him quicken his pace.
Ignoring the now dirty exterior of the impala, Dean checks if the passenger door is unlocked, and lucky for him it is. This elicits a satisfying smirk from him. Then he carefully lowers Sam into the seat, making sure his head doesn't hit the top of the car. Once guaranteeing he won't topple over, he tails it to the trunk and unlocks it with the key, hurriedly searching for a pair of warded cuffs. Once finding a pair, he speeds back to Sam's still unconscious, and bloody, form.
"Sorry, Sammy, but can't have you trying to kill me while I'm driving," He says half-joking, half-serious as he cuffs both of Sam's hands. Getting into the driver's seat he takes a look at his brother. Despite knowing it's necessary, he can't help but feel guilty when he takes a look at his restrained hands. With a deep sigh, he shifts his focus on the road ahead.
"Alright, we can fix this", Dean says out loud before inserting the key and starting the engine.
Cas and I will figure this out, Sammy. We will.
TBC