Raising Winchesters Chapter 30, a supernatural fanfic

Raising Winchesters

Chapter 30

Pulsatio et omnis spiritus diminuit.

John was sitting down on Dean's bed, his left leg bouncing in agitation as he studied the still form of his son. Dean's face was still flushed and his forehead was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, but John could still discern an overall sallowness to his skin. There were dark circles under Dean's eyes and John suddenly noticed that his lips were chapped. He knew the boy had to be in a state of dehydration and that their time was dwindling fast.

Seeing Dean in such a state was the only reason John was allowing Stitch Mathison anywhere near his son. John had known Mathison for almost five years and had hated the man for just as long. In fact, his first meeting with the man ended with them exchanging harsh words and even harsher punches. Thanks to his marine training, John had come out on top, but only just barely. Stitch wasn't someone to mess with.

But, of all the hunters he knew, Stitch was the best at dealing with medical issues. At one time, he had stitched up another hunter's leg in almost pitch black conditions, all the while fending off an attacking crocotta. That's how Steve Mathison got the nickname Stitch in the first place.

John and Stitch, of course, often found themselves occasionally meeting up. They both tried to be professional, but both had egos even bigger than their tempers. Every meet up they'd had, ended with one of them flat out on the ground and the other high-tailing it out of the area.

But John was willing to put all that aside for the sake of his son. Dean needed help and it was his job as a father to get that help, no matter what it took. No matter how big of a hit his ego took. John was prepared to do what he had to do, whatever that meant. Dean was more important than anything.

Heartbeat and every breath diminishes.

Dean didn't have the strength to open his eyes. He didn't have the strength to even move his little finger, really. He was sure that he'd never felt so weak before and he was scared. Really scared.

He could hear the sound of his dad's voice and he could feel Sam's small body lying next to him, but he didn't have even the tiniest molecule of extra strength to blink an eye to let them know he was aware of what was going on around him.

And he was aware. He was aware of the sadness and loneliness he heard in Sam's voice. He was aware of the frustration in his Uncle Bobby's voice and the calm, yet worried voice of Pastor Jim. But most of all, he was aware of the fear and desperation he heard in his dad's voice. He was sure he'd never heard his dad sound so defeated and that scared him, too.

John Winchester had always been a rock in Dean's life. He was a hard-nosed and stubborn man who expected nothing but obedience from his sons. He faced monsters of every kind without batting an eye. Dean knew the man had been scared at times, but he'd never seen him as scared as he was at the moment.

Dean's whole body ached. He felt both like he was completely on fire and like he was frozen to the bone. Every breath was heavy and inadequate. He constantly felt like he wasn't getting enough air and he could feel panic coursing through him.

Head to toe, limb to limb, stem to stern, Dean was dying and he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life.

Pulsatio et omnis spiritus diminuit.

When Stitch Mathison finally arrived, John forced himself to move from Dean's bedside. He wasn't ready to leave the boy alone, but he also didn't want to be sitting on the bed when the man entered the room. He listened as the sounds of the three hunter's voices carried somewhat up the stairs, waiting impatiently for them to make their way up the stairs. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could easily differentiate the three voices. Or was that four voices?

Eventually, the voices started to move closer and John prepared himself to come face to face with Mathison. As much as he tried to prepare himself, he still wasn't prepared for the surge of anger that coursed through him when the man arrived at the top of the stairs, followed closely by Bobby. He shelved the anger, though. As much as he could, at least.

"Mathison…."

"Hello, Winchester. Where's your boy?"

John stayed square in the doorway, not quite ready to give the man access to one of his most precious possessions. "Jim and Bobby filled you in on everything?"

"Yes. As much as they could, at least."

John was just about to move back into the room when he saw Jim coming up the stairs followed by an older woman. Squaring back up in the doorway, he looked over at Bobby. "Who's that, Singer?"

Bobby turned to look at Jim and the newcomer before turning back to John. "Betsy Warren. She's an acquaintance of Mathison's and an expert in spells and such. Stitch thought she might be able to help us out."

"I didn't okay, that, Bobby. We have no idea who she is! I'm not comfortable letting her get close to my boys."

"I'll vouch for her," Stitch interrupted.

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Mathison."

Bobby stepped forward, coming face to face with John. "John, I vetted her before I okayed her coming here. She checks out."

John trusted Bobby more than he trusted anyone else, so he looked over at the lady, gave her a slight nod of the head, and then moved into the room, allowing Mathison to follow. Sam was sound asleep next to Dean. John moved over to his youngest son and gently picked him up, cradling him to his chest. Sam barely stirred in the process.

"Jim, could you take him to Bobby's room for me? And leave the door open so we'll hear him if he wakes up."

Jim quickly took Sam and left the room, returning less than a minute later. In that time, Mathison had moved closer to Dean and was looking down at the boy.

"When was the last time he was awake?" he finally asked after several minutes of observation.

"It's been at least four hours," John answered wearily.

"And was he lucid the last time he was awake?"

"Barely."

"Okay, first thing we need to address is the fact that he's probably dehydrated. I'd like to start an IV on him and get some fluids going."

John just nodded at the man, giving him permission to do what he knew needed to be done. He watched as Mathison dug around in his bag and pulled out the supplies he needed. Just minutes later, the IV had been started and a bag of IV fluids was hanging from a makeshift IV pole, slowly dripping into Dean's vein.

John watched as Mathison checked Dean's blood pressure, pulse, and temperature, not missing the concerned look on the man's face when he was done. "Well?"

Mathison turned to look at John. "His blood pressure is dangerously low, but I think the fluids will help that. Interestingly enough, his heart rate is low. Usually with dehydration, the heart rate will be faster, so I think this is probably a product of the spell. His temperature is 101°. We need to try to get that down a little more."

"I'll get a basin of cool water and some cloths," Bobby said before turning and leaving the room.

Mathison dug around in his bag again and pulled out a small device that he hooked to Dean's finger. He frowned at the numbers on the readout, but didn't say anything. John was just about to question him when the man took out a stethoscope and held it to Dean's chest. When he was done, he turned and looked at John. "His oxygenation isn't the best, but it's okay for now. I hear some wheezes in his lungs, so I'd like to give him a breathing treatment that will help with that. Okay?"

John nodded again, giving his permission. He wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of breathing treatments, since both Sam and Dean had required them at one time or another through the years. "You think that will help?"

Mathison just nodded his head and then pulled a little machine out of the bag. A few seconds later, he placed a mask on Dean's face and filled part of the machine with some liquid medicine. A low rumbling hiss suddenly filled the room.

Once he was done with all that, he stepped back and motioned for Betsy Warren to come forward. John watched as the woman approached the bed quietly. He watched closely as she held both of her hands out and moved them over Dean's body, starting at his head and moving down to his toes before reversing directions. Once she had done this a few times, she lowered her hands and turned back to look at the four men.

"I can feel the energy of the spell and it feels powerful. There is an especially strong sense of the spell surrounding Dean's heart and lungs, though. As if the spell is centered there, which makes sense with the wording of the spell."

"Do you sense any weakness in it?" John asked, desperately needing to hear something hopeful.

Betsy turned back to Dean and ran her hands over his body again. This time, she focused more on the center of the spell. It was at least three full minutes before she turned back to the hunters. "I couldn't find any weakness at all the first time I checked, but I think I might've felt something this last time. Was there anyone else in the room when she cast the spell? Anyone standing near Dean that might have absorbed some of the spell?"

It was Bobby who spoke first. "There was a man with her. Some kind of shapeshifter or something. When she cast the spell, a blue light enveloped Dean. The man was standing behind Dean, so maybe it got him, too?"

"Would that be helpful?" John asked quickly. "If someone else absorbed some of the spell, what does that mean?"

Betsy looked back at Dean for several long seconds. "Listen, these types of spells are tricky. Binding someone to yourself is not an unusual spell, really. But binding someone's life force to you is. When this witch did this, she created a bond with Dean that has far-reaching consequences. The longer Dean is separated from her, the worse it will be for him. Eventually, his body won't be able to withstand the separation. And if she were to die, well…. that wouldn't bode well for Dean, either. But knowing that maybe this spell was shared with another, gives us a little bit of hope."

All four men stared at her, not really seeing the hope in the situation. Betsy tried to explain it as best she could. "There is a Christian wedding tradition called The Cord of Three Strands that symbolizes the binding of a man and woman with God. It is said that two people who are bound together in Christ are made stronger than the individuals themselves. Ecclesiastes 4:12 says this… Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not easily broken. This bond, if shared with another person besides Dean, is much the same. The only difference is that in biblical respects, the bond is taken willingly and knowingly. This bond between the witch, Dean, and the other guy wasn't taken willingly, but it still has much of the same properties. Especially if the man was willingly working with Nora."

Silence settled over the room for what seemed like an eternity before Bobby finally spoke. "Okay, so what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that we need to find this man, this shapeshifter or whatever he is. If he's not with Nora, he'll be feeling the effects of the spell, too. If he is still with her, then we need to figure out a way to get him away from her long enough for the effects to kick in. Once he feels just a little of what Dean is experiencing, maybe we can get him to work with us on this."

"That's a lot of ifs and maybes," John growled. "We don't have time for that."

"That's the best we have at the moment, John. Until then, I'm working on plan B."

"We have a plan B?" Bobby asked.

"Well, it's not really a plan B. It's more like part two of our current plan. My theory is that once we have reunited Dean and this mystery man, they'll be able to join forces and work to weaken their links with Nora. Cut the strand, per se. The second part of the plan is to find someone that can work a spell for us that will break the bind without permanent damage to Dean."

"And you think that's possible? That we can break this bind and save Dean?" John felt the slightest glimmer of hope appear and he desperately grabbed onto it.

"I do think it's possible, John. It won't be easy, but it's definitely possible."

Jim clapped his hands and started furiously rubbing them together. "Okay, then. We need to find this man, first and foremost. Bobby and I will get started on that. Betsy, I assume you'll be looking for someone to work the spell for us?"

"Yes. I already have someone in mind. I just need to reach out to her."

Jim and Bobby turned to leave, but John stopped them. "Wait! What am I supposed to do?"

Bobby was surprised to see John looking so lost and unsure. "Stay here, John. Stitch might need some help and your boys need you. Dean needs you."

John started to argue, but quickly realized that no matter how much he wanted to be doing something useful, he couldn't leave his boys. Dean did need him. More than he ever had before.

Author's note: Is it too late to apologize for the super late update? I truly have no excuse other than I've had a little bit of a writer's block these last weeks. This quarantine is messing with my head and I'm not even completely being quarantined. I'm still going to work three days a week, at least. I have no idea how those of you who are truly quarantined are handling it, lol.

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy the update. I know this chapter didn't really move the story along very much, but we're getting there. For sure.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy.

I wanted to say a quick thanks to Stormysea-breaks for all the lovely reviews. I'm glad you found this story and that you're enjoying it. I also want to say a special thanks to Kathy who is a faithful reviewer that I can't reply to directly. I appreciate your lovely reviews, Kathy. I truly appreciate all of you that take the time to let me know what you think of the story.