Hello my lovely readers! This chapter is a little longer than usual, I got super stuck on how to write what I was thinking, I think I over thought bringing Castiel into the story, he's really just a middle man to help set a few things straight, Anyway then Kathy left me a review saying they thought Dean might find clues around the bunker, and I don't know why but something clicked and I was left frantically writing for the past few days Thank you so much Kathy, your idea really helped :) Again thank you so much to everyone who has left a review, I love hearing your thoughts!

Warnings: Some descriptions of blood and such, language is mostly mild but its still there, spoilers are the usual, season seven and up and a tiny bit end of season three/ start of season four :)

Chapter Six

Dean checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time since Cas said he was on his way. That damn angel taking his sweet little time. As for his research he still hadn't found anything remotely useful. There was tons and tons of lure on ghosts and a large amount on ghost sickness, but it didn't help their current situation. They killed the ghost, so there should be no reason for Sam to still get sick, but he was gone. And Sam doesn't just get up and leave without his stuff and without telling Dean. And if you leave, at least bring your phone. It had been another hour since Dean woke up. Leaving only 40 hours left.

Come on Cas, hurry up

SPN SPN SPN SPN

Sam was trying hard not to pass out. His arms were bent in an unnatural shape, from being tossed around due to being hit, kicked, cut and more. His once long sturdy body was beaten and bruised, deep cuts bleeding freely making Sam extremely light headed.

Not-Dean had disappeared for now. He had just finished a round on Sam. He would have liked to say he put up a fight, try to free himself. But the truth was he had given up hope a long time ago. He didn't know if it was the fear that was paralyzing him, or the fact that he knew every word coming out of not-Deans mouth, (real or not) was true. This was still a version of Dean. A version that had at one point existed, he felt tired, he so desperately wanted to give up, let whatever darkness consume him. Whether it meant he was going to the empty, hell or heaven any place seemed better than this. His life had no meaning if Dean wasn't in it, dead or hating him, he just couldn't do it. Not-Dean seemed to know this as he kept offering that gun. Finish the job himself, do some good for once. But he kept refusing that offer. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it, the real Dean hadn't arrived yet, and Sam doubted he would. Why should he? Sam was a disgrace to the family name, he had done unforgivable deeds. And not-Dean made sure he would never forget that. But there was also a small glimmer of hope that not-Dean hadn't whacked out of him yet. A tiny part that believed Dean would still come. It was slowly fading as time went by, but it was still there. If Sam pulled the trigger now, and the real Dean came later on, all he would find is a dead Sam. And once again he would have disappointed Dean. Sam felt very conflicted, no matter what he did he would always be a disappointment. He closed his eyes leaning his head against the tree, and allowed the awaiting abyss to consume him.

Sam woke to strong hand gripping his face, he groaned not ready for another round of abuse, but he froze when he heard the words,

"Sam? Sammy?" They were rough but full of concern and remorse.

"Come on Sammy, don't do this to me, come on dammit!" Sam opened his eyes, to see a very distressed Dean looking at him. Sam could have cried from pure relief. The real Dean had finally found him.

"D'n" he felt Dean run his hands down his body checking for any life threatening injuries, Sam felt Dean's hands waver when they reached his stomach, where the words FREAK were written.

"De'n" Sam tried again hoping to draw Dean's attention, luckily he heard this time and immediately brought his attention back up to Sam.

"Sammy? What's wrong, where does it hurt?" Sam just huffed a laugh,

"Everywhere" but god did it feel good to have Dean worry over him, actually care about him.

"Oh god Sammy, I'm so sorry" And there was guilt in Dean's voice. Sam had no doubt he would be punishing himself later on, but he could worry over that later, he just wanted to go home. And in his book anyplace there was Dean, then it was home.

"It's ok De'n, 'm jusst glad it's re'lly you," he slurred. They really had to do something about the blood loss. Dean looked confused and almost a bit angry.

"Alright yeah, let's just get you out of here," his tone changed from scared and loving to agitated and rushed. He stood up and went to untie the ropes, grabbed Sam's discarded shirt and roughly put it back on him. He then gently lifted Sam off the ground who whimpered in protest.

"Come on Sammy, you have to help me here" Sam managed to get onto his feet but wavered until he leaned against Dean. Dean grunted from the weight and pushed him off, making sure he could stand without falling. Sam looked at Dean confused on why he couldn't lean on him. Dean noticed and said,

"The not real me could come back, and if he does I need to be able to fight him, not be carrying an overly large man." In Sam's hazy world that made sense, and it didn't even cross his mind that he hadn't told Dean that there was another Dean.

As they left the clearing Sam's eyes started to drift shut. He felt more calm than he had since being led out of the bunker by Not-Dean. He felt tired, both physically and mentally, he was pretty sure he was leaving a trail of blood, all the wounds that had clotted were being pulled open by the movement, but he couldn't care less. Dean had found him, he would be safe now. He wanted nothing more than to shut down and let Dean do the work. But he knew Dean had to keep a look out so he ignored it and kept walking.

After what felt like hours of walking, Dean looked over at Sam to see him wobble even worse than when they started their journey. Sam was limping badly and it had only gotten worse since moving, he couldn't ignore the fatigue and hot searing pain any longer. He called out to Dean as he felt himself fall,

"Dean," Dean rushed down to his side, but his eyeline was still at the surrounding area

"Come on man we need to get moving," Sam looked up at him,

"I can't," Now it was Dean's turn to look at Sam.

"Why not?"

"It hur'ts" Dean sighed,

"Just push the pain aside and get your ass moving! We haven't got all day!" Sam looked at Dean in confusion after his sudden outburst of anger. He couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes, they were partly out of pain but more so out of the fact that real-Dean was becoming just as angry as not-Dean. Sam hung his head in shame, for he had disappointed his brother again.

"'M sorry"

"Oh my god, you are even more pathetic like this!" Dean grabbed Sam's head and shoved it up roughly.

"You know what I tried, I really did," Dean growled.

"W-what?" Dean let go of Sam's head, and stood up.

"De'n?" Sam heard Dean make a noise that sounded almost like a growl, Dean turned around and kicked him in the stomach. Sam cried out in pain, Dean just repeated his action again and again while saying,

"I tried to play nice, but you made it extremely hard. With your constant bitchy whining, and the whole "help me Dean, it hurts!" Facade, it's pathetic." Dean stopped the kicking, and pushed Sam on his back, he sat on the abused stomach and started punching Sam's face. Soon he had blood pouring from his nose, and the cuts on his face that had finally started to scab were busted open again and bleeding happily. And somewhere in between the blinding pain and brutal words Sam figured out that Dean never came to save him, this was just a cruel trick his ghost sickness induced mind produced. But that didn't mean it hurt any less.

"You're nothing but a burden, you're a disgrace to the family, you could never be saved, I went to hell for you, I suffered in purgatory, and you never bothered to find me, left the minute I was out of the picture. Then you say we aren't brothers after I saved your life with Gadreel! I gave up everything for you! And all you ever give me in return is pain and disappointment," he paused his attack, leaning down he put his lips to Sam's ear and whispered,

"I hate you"

That was the last straw for Sam, he broke down, all the pain, having his own brother say he hates him, that was enough to push him over the edge. He started to cry. Not his controlled crying like he normally does, but pure ugly crying. He hadn't cried like that in years, every sob and tear that was produced had his body screaming in pain, which had him crying even more. Not-Dean stood up smirked and said,

"What's the matter Sammy? Can't handle the truth?" All that did was make Sam cry harder. He curled in on himself, which didn't help the pain. Through the tears he saw Not-Dean smile, his eyes filled with glee at his destruction. Then he disappeared into the trees, and as Sam cried himself to sleep, away from all the pain, he felt that small glimmer of hope die out completely.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

"Dean sit down, pacing in circles will not help find Sam any faster," Castiel motioned for him to sit on the chair. Dean looked at the angel irritation plastered on his face.

"It's not like what you're doing is helping either," he snapped. Cas's face remained neutral, but Dean knew his words had an impact. Sitting down he sighed, defeated,

"I'm sorry Cas, it's just, it's been 24 hours since Sam has gone missing, and we are no closer to finding him than we were before you got here." Dean rested his head in his hands,

"I just want- need to find him." Cas reached out and awkwardly patted his back.

"As do I Dean, but we must be patient, the spell will work when it's ready," Dean looked up at Cas, his eyes filled with worry and fear,

"But what if we are too late?"

17 hours ago

Dean looked up from his book, when he heard the sound of the bunker door open. He was greeted with the familiar voice of castiel,

"Hello Dean," Dean smiled, glad the angel was here.

"Hiya Cas, sorry to bother you," Cas walked down into the library,

"Not at all Dean, it's good to see-" He was cut off by Dean,

"Cas I would love to catch up, but I- we need to find Sam. We have less than 40 hours, and once Sam is safe and healthy back in the bunker then we can chat". Dean tried to be as nice as possible, and he really did want to catch up with Cas, but the only thing on his mind was Sam, and nothing could sway him away from that. Cas merely nodded his head and said,

"Of course, I understand"

"I was um hoping now that you got your grace back that you could track down Sam?" Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment before saying,

"Yes I think I know of one. It's useful for finding humans. We sometimes use it to find lost prophets,"

"That's great!" Dean exclaimed, "what do we need?"

"The ingredients are quite simple, a bit of my grace, bone of a holy man, eye of a egal, and some of Sam's blood"

Dean groaned inwardly at the last one, "Where am I supposed to get some of Sam's blood." Castiel looked at him confused,

"You don't have his blood?" Dean look at the angel in disbelief,

"No! It's not like a vial of Sam's blood in my back pocket, I'm not a psychopath" Cas looked at him skeptically,

"I see, well with you being his brother, your blood would work too. Though I must warn you, even with Sam's blood the spell could take awhile to locate him. Especially if he has traveled far." Dean nodded his head,

"Yeah sure ok, whatever you need, and Sam couldn't have gone far, he didn't take a car".

"Then let's pray it doesn't take long"

Now

"How much longer?" Dean asked, he had resumed his pacing, and was now biting his nails.

"Dean," Cas replied warningly

He did not like not doing anything. Being stuck inside unable to help his little brother, it was one, against any instinct he has and two, Dean took pride in his ability to always know what to do, and right now he had no clue. The tracking spell was taking forever, and as for the ghost sickness Cas said there is a 50/50 chance that Sam was affected. Seeing as he was touched before the ghost died, and disappeared shortly after 24 hours, the possibility was higher he was sick. As for a cure, well Cas confirmed that if the ghost was gone then there should be no reason for Sam to get sick. But if he was, the angel simply said,

"Quell the fear"

Dean felt like banging his against a wall. He couldn't believe he didn't think of that, it was so simple. Cas then went on to explain that the ghost sickness affected the brain, even more so with the crazy doctor. So the sickness symptoms are all a trick of the brain, and the best way to fix that is to convince the brain that it's all fake, or the fear never existed in the first place. Dean had no idea what Sam could be facing, but he knew it would have to be bad. He was assuming it would be Lucifer, 120 years stuck down in the cage with him would have left some fears. And he already managed to convince Sam once that Lucifer wasn't real, when he was seeing memories from hell. With that out the way, it was just the worry of finding him in time. They had less than a day left,

"Screw this, I'm going out to find him." Grabbing his jacket he made sure his gun was loaded and then headed to the door.

"Dean!" Cas stood up and went after him,

"Running off would not be such a good idea, the spell will work, it just needs time." Dean turned around and yelled,

"We don't have time Cas! That's the one thing we don't have, Sam is out there, and all I have been doing is sitting and waiting, my brother could be suffering and I can't let that happen. Now I'm going out to look for him, phone me if the spell ever finishes". Dean walked out the door and as he shut it he thought he heard cas say,

"Good luck"

SPN SPN SPN SPN

As Dean stepped out into the world, he looked around.

There wasn't much to see, there was the road and then the surrounding forests.

Now if I was a crazy feared induced Sammy which way would I go. Dean turned and looked at the forest. He lingered there a little longer as he stared. He didn't know how to explain it, but he somehow knew Sam went that way. Their dad used to call it their 6th sense, the brother sense. With their close relationship it was something that occurred naturally, it had helped in close situations before and it was working in full force right now. With that in mind Dean took off towards the forest, eyes peeled, on the lookout for Sam.

A couple more hours went by before Dean quite literally stumbled upon a clearing. He tripped over what he thought was log, but upon closer inspection was Sam's duffle bag. He picked it up and went through it. It has his basic hunting tools in it, extra bullets, rock salt, and so on. If the bag was here then Sam would be close by. He scanned his eyes quickly around the area, and stopped when he saw red spots all around the tree in the center. Running over he saw there was blood over the tree. He prayed that it wasn't Sam's blood, but stopped mid prayer to see that there was a trail of blood leaving the clearing. Carefully he stood up, pulled his gun out, and started to follow it. He didn't know if he wanted the trial to lead him to Sam or to a dead animal. As he went further along the trail there was more blood, it went from every few feet to a full on miniature stream. No living thing could lose this much blood and still be alive. At that thought Dean moved faster.

As he went past a large tree he saw a lump. A lump that looked a little too familiar.

No

Dean was running full speed towards it. And suddenly he was thinking about cold oak. A haunting memory that happened so many years ago, him running towards the only family he had left, the one thing he loved more than anything in this world. Holding him close as he breathed his last. He slid on his knees as he reached the lump. It was curled in on itself and when Dean pulled it open, he gasped.

Sam's face was covered in crusted blood, open cuts, and purple,yellowish bruises. Dean moved his hands down to his stomach when his hand came back red.

"Shit shit shit" he lifted the shirt, and had the sudden urge to punch something. He bit it back and fought back a sob of grief. Some monster had carved the words Freak into his chest. Along with that there were more cuts and worrying bruises, but then along the bottom of his diaphragm, there was a very large purple bruise and Dean knew just from that, that Sam had some internal bleeding. Throughout the check through Sam remained unconscious. Dean reached over and checked for a pulse,

"Come on come on come on" it took a few scary minutes but there was a pulse. And he had to hold his breath to make sure he wasn't feeling his own pulse, but then he found it. A very weak one, but it was there. Dean could have just laid down next to Sam and held him close, but he knew they needed to get back to the bunker. Cas could heal him, and then they could work on the ghost sickness.

Dean sat on his knees holding on to Sam, examining how to get Sam back to the bunker. He decided the best way to move him without causing any further damage would be bridal style.

"Alright come on Sammy, let's get you home," Dean had to try several times before he could pick up Sam. He was heavy when awake, but unconscious and unable to help, he was even heavier. But in times like these when Dean is beyond frightened for Sam, and needs to get him help, the power of the mother shines through, becoming the strength of a brother. With a shaky breath he started the walk back to the bunker.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

Sam woke up a few times, much to Dean's relief, but Sam had lost so much blood he was barely coherent. He would sometimes mumble a series of,

"No, no please stop" he sounded so broken and hurt, Dean didn't know what to do. Every broken plea was like a knife to the heart. A reminder that Dean wasn't there to protect Sam, a reminder that he was right and that Sam was infected with the illness. But god did he wish he was wrong. He should have done more, tried harder but he didn't and now Sam was paying for it. Sam had suffered for over 24 hours, and if he wasn't careful the ghost sickness would take his life. He wanted nothing more than to take his pain, but until he could he wrapped his arms more securely around Sam and walked faster.

By the time they reached the bunker, Dean was a hot sweaty and out of breath mess. He knocked on the door with his foot, and rearranged Sam while Cas took his sweet time getting to the door. As the door opened Cas started talking,

"Dean I'm glad you returned I was about to call you, the spell worked Sam is…" he trailed off when he saw the younger Winchester in Dean's arms, and Dean with sweat and mud all over him.

"Sam is, is err is in your arms" he chuckled nervously and he gave room for Dean to walk in.

"Oh really, I didn't notice," Dean spat sarcastically. He was panting by the time he was down the stairs. Cas followed and said,

"Let's take him to the med area, where we can heal him," cas went to take him from Dean, but Dean moved out of the angels arms gripping onto Sam just a little tighter,

"I've got him, I've got him". Cas wasn't sure if he was saying that to reassure himself or Sam.

I really hope you guys enjoyed it, more will be coming out as soon as possible! Please leave a review and I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your day!

-OnceUponaKitten