A/N I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed or is reading! I really appreciate it! :)

I think I forgot to mention last time that I should be updating sometime every Tuesday (although really early Wednesday morning is also likely :) Also. I am no doctor so...yeah. Medical inaccuracies are more than likely.

Chapter Two

There were strange voices, all talking too loud, and none of them Dean.

That didn't usually bode well.

"Dean…" Words were hard, his tongue too thick to get them out correctly. Something cold and wet was pressed up against his lips, but he wasn't…he drifted off again, feeling cold and lost. He was jarred back when he was jostled, arms wrapping around him, trying to get him upright.

"Sonofa—Sam, you're heavy. Work with me a little here, man…"

Dean's voice, Dean's hands. Sam was safe. He tried to let go and sink back to the warmth of oblivion, but Dean was shaking him, his voice slightly desperate.

"Hey, hey, hey…C'mon, just a few steps more. Don't you pass out on me now. Almost there."

Was he walking? He didn't feel his legs moving, but that was not saying much. Something slammed loudly, and Sam flinched, but Dean urged him forward—huh, he was walking. He could feel his legs threatening to give out—or perhaps they were giving out? He wasn't moving anymore.

Dean panted heavily next to him—or maybe that was himself? Sam was having trouble getting his thoughts straight and his thoughts were foggy. Dean was firmly pushing him back, forcing him to lay down and Sam acquiesced.

The next time that Sam woke up, his head felt clearer, even if the rest of his body felt like it had been run over by a train. The ground was vibrating beneath him, but his head was resting on something warm and solid. There was a hand tangled in his hair, fingernails lightly scratching against his scalp. It was soothing but almost as soon as Sam was aware of the sensation, it stopped.

"Hey. You awake again?"

Again? "Maybe…" Sam grunted, and Dean's hand slid down to rest comfortably atop his shoulder.

"At least you are making sense this time. Dude, you were completely out of it before."

Sam forced his eyes open, blinking into the late afternoon light that was spilling through the windows of a…van? Were they in the back of a van?

His head was resting in Dean's lap, and he twisted his head back to look at his brother in confusion. "What's going on?"

"What do you remember?" Dean asked in return as he helped Sam to sit up and rest against the back of the door. He offered Sam a bottle of water, but Sam was staring over Dean's shoulder, locking eyes with a man—Jesse—who was staring hungrily at him from over the seat.

It was all coming back. They had been working a case and he had been trying to do some research back at the motel when a woman, Amelia, had knocked on the door, asking for help to jumpstart her car battery. The other two men had come out of nowhere as soon as he opened the door to allow her in. Amelia had joined in the attack, there had been a fight, and then she had left to collect Dean. Sam had ended up with a knife in his shoulder. Everything after that was a little hazy.

He still didn't know what they wanted, but Jesse was making him uncomfortable.

"Here," Dean tapped his arm lightly with a water bottle and Sam took it automatically. He only broke eye contact with Jesse when Dean shifted to sit in front of him, blocking his view.

"I'll explain everything in a minute," he said soft enough that Jesse wouldn't hear, and Sam nodded as he took a cautious sip of the lukewarm water. Whatever had happened, Dean must have had time to dig their sling out of the Impala's trunk, because his left arm was strapped tightly to his chest, keeping it completely immobile.

"Drink a little more," Dean prompted when Sam tried to lower the water. "You lost a lot of blood back there; we need to keep you hydrated." When he felt Sam had drunk enough, he accepted the bottle, screwing the lid on and leaning back on his heels, but Sam couldn't help but notice how he remained protectively positioned in front of him and the tense set of his shoulders.

Dean was not happy with what was happening, yet he hadn't been handcuffed or tied up. Neither of them were, and Sam was not comforted by the fact. They were not just going for a joy ride in the back of a van, and Dean tended to hold grudges against people who hurt Sam so the mere fact that Dean wasn't attempting to shoot anybody was a warning sign.

"What's going on?" Sam asked again, searching Dean's face for any clues. "They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"Me? I'm fine, they wouldn't dare lay a finger on this prime fighting machine." Dean's grin was bright, but Sam wasn't in the mood for games.

"Seriously, man—"

"Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a twist. Don't want to get you worked up, you might pass out again. You're still looking…peaky."

"Peaky?" Sam gave his brother a surprised look and Dean waved it away with one hand.

"I saw it in some British movie, I think. I don't know. Do you want the story or not?"

Sam shut up and Dean began to quietly relate to him what had happened, starting with his encounter with Amelia at the diner and finishing by telling him that they were now on their way to Gray's Peak.

"Well, that's a first...vampires don't normally ask us for help," Sam said when Dean was done explaining. He leaned his head back against the van, swallowing thickly as they went over a pothole, jolting his arm and making his stomach churn warningly. Dean's face tightened with concern and Sam quickly continued. "And they have clearly thought this through. The poison? That was a smart move."

Dean made a face and Sam gave him a wan smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Though, if you want to run, I won't hold it against you, I swear."

"That's not even funny," Dean retorted hotly, his eyes dark. Sam blinked in surprise, he had meant it as a joke and had half expected some sort of biting, but fond, remark in return.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, blowing out a long, frustrated, sigh. "They seem to think that I'm going to do just that, even with the poison. Holding you as hostage simply wasn't enough for them, they had to go through all this work simply…simply to ensure that I wasn't going to leave."

"Well," Sam began fairly, "would you? C'mon, be honest. If there was a chance for us to escape, we would have taken it. This pretty much ensures that we can't leave."

Dean shook his head, his lips forming a thin line. "Us, Sam, if there was a chance for us to escape, then hell yeah. We would have been long gone. But they seem to think that I'm just going to take off, without you." There was a note of hurt in Dean's voice and Sam frowned, trying to work through what his brother was not saying.

He blamed it on the blood loss that it took him so long to put two and two together. Dean, who had been told all his life to look after Sam, who would have done it anyway because that was just the kind of person Dean was, had someone questioning both his ability and his desire to do just that. And that pissed Dean off, especially since they were vampires and that was undoubtedly reminding him of their encounters with Gordan and the punch that had been thrown.

"Then they clearly don't know you as well as they think they do, man," Sam offered but Dean shut him down with a quelling look.

Sam opened his mouth, but Dean shook his head tightly and Sam didn't have the energy to fight it. He would try and talk with Dean more deeply once this was over.

"How much longer till we get there?" he asked instead.

"About another two or three hours, I think, why?"

Sam shrugged, closing his eyes. If a single conversation tiring him out wasn't pathetic, then he didn't know what was.

"Oh, don't tell me that you two are done with the heart to heart. You were just getting to the good stuff." The condescending voice snapped Sam's eyes wide open, and he looked over Dean's head at Jesse.

Dean tensed, his eyes growing hard as he twisted back around. "You can shove it where the sun don't shine," he growled but Jesse just laughed.

"Do you two get so emotional about everything? Hell, that must be exhausting."

"Dean," Sam reached out, tugging on a handful of his shirt to pull him back down. "Don't, it's not worth it." He was already injured, and they didn't need Dean down as well.

Jesse huffed a laugh. "Yeah, Dean, I'm not worth it. Did I mention that Amelia said that I might get to watch little Sammy here while you and the others go after Robert? Oh, we are going to have so much fun! I already have it all planned out." He smiled, letting his fangs drop and Sam felt a flutter of unease inside his chest.

Dean's face was flushed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Don't rise to the bait, just let it go," Sam repeated earnestly, resting a hand on Dean's arm to keep him still. Sam was—somewhat—sure that Jesse was just trying to rile them up and get a reaction.

"Heh. Bait. That's all that you are good for, Sammy-boy, don't you know? Amelia and Conrad chose you to poison because they needed Dean whole and undamaged, but you…you are only good as a hostage to control Dean." He reached over the seat, adding on a distracted, "and maybe food…"

A cold finger touched Sam's cheek before Dean was wrenching him back and slapping Jesse's hand away hard enough that there was an audible crack.

"Back off, or else." Dean's voice was low, his voice dangerous. Lethal, even.

"He had some blood on his cheek, just right there. I wanted a taste." Jesse's eyes gleamed as he continued to watch them. "And Conrad said that his blood tasted delicious, and I would believe it. That smell…" he groaned, tilting his head back, and Sam suddenly felt incredibly queasy.

"Say one more word, just one, and I'll rip your head off with my bare hands."

"Really, because I—"

Dean lurched to his feet, ready to make good on his promise, and Sam caught his arm trying to get him to sit back down. His brother's momentum pulled him half up, but Sam couldn't hold on. Letting go, he sat back down hard and let out a gritted moan as the movement jolted his shoulder badly. He brought his good hand up, cradling his left arm to his chest as he felt himself break out in a cold sweat.

Dean instantly stilled, a hand going back to find Sam's shoulder even as he continued to stare at Jesse, who had shrunk back, keeping a careful distance between him and Dean.

"Amelia!" Dean called briskly and Amelia turned around in the front seat with an annoyed expression on her face. "Keep your dog under control,"

Amelia's face went hard as she looked over at Jesse. "Jesse! Come up here, now," She ordered, pointing towards the first row of seats. Jesse glowered at her and opened his mouth, but she snapped her fingers sharply, cutting him off.

He slunk away, his pale cheeks red from either embarrassment or anger, Sam couldn't tell which. Dean watched him go, not moving until Jesse sat down in his new seat. Then he sank back, looking at Sam worriedly.

"You good?" he asked quietly as he took Sam's right arm, helping to get him situated in a more comfortable position.

"Yeah, I'm fine, my shoulder isn't even that bad, it could be a lot worse," Sam said just as softly, allowing Dean to fuss for a moment longer before gently pushing him away.

"Could be a lot better too, though. This isn't exactly great," Dean grumbled. There was nothing else that Sam could add to that, and they fell silent. The vampires weren't talking either, and only the rumble of the engine could be heard.

The quiet gave Sam a chance to sit and think through the situation, and he wasn't fond of what he found.

"I don't like this," he confessed abruptly. "I don't feel good about letting you go up against a full nest of vampires by yourself. I should come with you."

Dean snorted, his gaze fixed absently on the back of the seats. "No, Sam. You aren't coming, you were barely able to stand up just now, you are not hunting."

Sam rolled his eyes, and immediately wished that he hadn't when a wave of dizziness washed over him. He pushed through it determinedly. "Dean, if I don't go with you, then you aren't going to have anybody to watch your back, and it's not like vampires are the easiest thing to hunt."

"It's not up for debate, dude. I'm going—alone. And don't give me that look, it's not like we have much of a choice here. I do it, or you die."

Sam sighed, carefully picking his next words so as not to anger Dean. "Look, we could still get out of here. Head for Bobby's…Bobby can probably whip something up, he always comes through."

Dean snapped his head to the side, his mouth tightening. "No, dude. This is your life that we are talking about. I don't think that we could get to Bobby's in time and even if we did… I'm not sure that Bobby could pull something out of his ass. If we had more time, maybe, but we don't. So no, we aren't screwing around."

Sam sat back, chewing on his lip. "What about your life? Too much can go wrong and, c'mon, you must know that they are going to try and double-cross us at some point. What if they attack you in the middle of the woods?"

"I know, but what am I supposed to do about that right now? That's a hypothetical fear—which I am taking seriously, so don't say anything—but you, that's not hypothetical. Until I know that we have a solid alternative, I'm not leaving."

"Damnit, Dean." Sam leaned his head back again, closing his eyes.

"I'm fighting for your life, man, you would do the same," Dean muttered next to him, and Sam's gut unclenched a little. He reached out, finding Dean's arm, and squeezed it briefly in a silent apology. Dean returned the grip tightly before they both let go, lapsing into worried silence.

Sam spent the time trying to come up with a 'solid alternative' so that they could get the hell out of here because while he trusted Dean completely to see the job done, he didn't trust Amelia. And things could go wrong so easily in a hunt…

The mere thought was making Sam sweat.

They turned off the paved road and onto one made of dirt. The van bounced over a pothole and Sam grunted, his hand tightening around his shoulder in an attempt to brace it. Dean shot him a worried glance, but there was nothing that he could do as the road only continued to worsen.

Sam stopped thinking and concentrated on not throwing up. His shoulder was throbbing, and his head was starting to ache along with each beat of his heart. The van had grown obscenely warm as well, making him feel lightheaded. Though that could be from the blood loss.

Gritting his teeth, Sam squeezed his eyes shut, determined to work through the dizziness, and began to take slow, deep, breaths.

It wasn't working, though, and something needed to change, or Sam was going to puke or pass out right in front of Dean, scaring the crap out of him either way. Keeping his eyes closed to stop his vision from spinning, Sam blindly reached out, fumbling for his brother's arm.

"Dean."

"What?" Dean snapped irritably, but that didn't bother Sam. He knew Dean too well to be put off by his gruff manner.

"Help me—help me off with my jacket." Sam would just do it himself, but with one arm in a sling, it wasn't going to be a simple task.

"Why? It's not like—" Dean trailed off before he was suddenly shifting to sit closer to Sam as he pressed one hand up against his forehead, the other dropping down to take his pulse.

"Dean, it's just too hot. Gotta take it off," Sam protested, attempting to shove his brother away but Dean was like a rock as Sam pushed against him.

"You're burning up, man, and you look—you look like crap twice microwaved." Dean pulled him forward, removing the sling and wrestling off his jacket. Sam's plaid overshirt and t-shirt were shoved aside next, giving Dean access to his wounds.

"What are you doing?" Sam forced his eyes open to make sure that his brother hadn't gone crazy, but Dean ignored him as he much more gently began to pull back the bandages. He was silent for a long minute, before pressing the bandages down once more.

"Looks alright…I can't see any signs of infection," he said, sitting back on his heels and drawing Sam's sleeves back up. Sam winced, closing his eyes again as the van rocked over…something.

"Hey! None of that!" Dean shook him, but Sam couldn't. He was moments away from passing out and was trying to regain control, but Dean was persistent as his fingers dug into Sam's arm, jostling him more roughly.

"Hey!" Dean was shouting again, but this time he didn't seem to be talking to Sam, and he felt himself flush. He had never wanted to be a part of this, he didn't want to be fussed over, or coddled or-or…thinking was getting harder.

The van lurched to a sudden stop, slamming him forward into his brother, but Dean braced him upright. He was talking to Sam again, his voice low and urgent.

"Sorry," he mumbled, blindly reaching up to pat at Dean's shoulder.

Rough, unfamiliar hands were pulling on him, dragging him away from his brother, but then Dean was grabbing at him, helping to twist him to the side. His mouth was pinched open and something bitter and chalky was poured onto his tongue.

Choking weakly on it, Sam gratefully drank from the bottle of water that was pressed against his lips. He coughed some of it back up and someone thumped him on the back, helping him to clear his airways. Dean was talking to him, asking him a question, but his face was blurred beyond recognition and it was a battle to focus.

Closing his eyes, Sam surrendered to the waiting abyss of oblivion.

#

Dean was shaking more than he wanted to admit as he drew a hand over his mouth before running it back through his hair.

"He's going to be okay, right?" he asked for the third time as he looked between Amelia and Conrad. They were pulled unevenly over on the side of the road, the back doors of the van swung open with the three vampires and Dean standing there. Sam was lying awkwardly on his side, his eyes closed and his face flushed, but he looked better than he had ten minutes ago when he had first reached out to Dean.

"Silver lining, you now know for sure that your brother has been poisoned and that we are not just pulling your leg," Amelia said weakly. Jesse laughed, Dean didn't.

"Silver lining?" Dean's voice rose as he gestured wildly at Sam. "You screwed up! You told me that there was never any need for him to show any symptoms! You were supposed to give him the antidote before then!"

"We already told you," Conrad began hotly, "He lost a lot of blood, that must have affected how potent the antidote that we had already given him was."

'Yeah, and whose fault was that?!" Dean took a step away, his hands on his hips as he shook his head. That had…that had been far too close for his comfort. Hell, this whole thing was out of his comfort zone to begin with. "Seriously!" He slapped the side of the van as hard as he could, making Amelia jump and eye him with suspicion.

Jesse just snorted, looking more amused than anything. "Relax, he's fine! No use stressing about it...So can we get this party bus on the road again?"

Amelia looked over at Dean, shrugging. "Sam's probably going to sleep for a while and we really should get back on the road, no point in wasting time." Amelia exchanged a meaningful look with Conrad who nodded once.

Jesse rolled his eyes and moved back to the front of the van. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean, "You still want to ride in the back? You can sit up here next to me." He smiled widely.

"Yeah, I'd rather not, you son of a bitch," Dean said sourly as he sat down next to Sam, pulling the doors shut behind them as the engine roared back to life.

Bunching up his jacket, Dean tucked it under Sam's head as a pillow and braced him so that he didn't slide as they pulled back onto the road.

"They're all a bunch of bastards," Dean muttered as he laid the back of his hand on Sam's forehead, testing his temperature. The fever was already down, and his pulse—which had been racing—had slowed, but he still looked pale.

Sighing, Dean leaned his head back against the doors.

Sam was still sleeping an hour later when they pulled up in front of a small cabin. The inside was dark and appeared deserted despite the white, compact Ford pickup truck that was parked outside.

Amelia and the other two vampires spilled out of the van, Jesse stretching loud enough that Dean could hear something pop while Amelia moved to unlock the front door. Conrad moved towards the back of the van, watching Dean warily.

Dean ignored him, bending over his brother and shaking his good shoulder gently. Sam stirred feebly, and Dean shook him a little harder.

Sam's eyes opened, but no one was home and they closed again.

"You just want to make me struggle, don't you?" Dean accused as he worked for his hands under Sam's armpit and around his back, dragging him closer to the entrance. Gently, he tugged him up into a sitting position, and then crouched down and let him fall over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

He grunted, staggering back a step under the weight before he found his balance. Turning, he headed for the door. None of the vampires offered to help, but Dean wasn't expecting any and he would have declined even if they had offered.

Sam was his responsibility.

Entering, he saw that it was a one-room cabin. Amelia had already thrown her bag onto the bed and Dean changed his course towards the couch where he lowered Sam down.

He was rewarded for his efforts with a small whimper as Sam unconsciously pulled back from the pain. Grabbing a nearby decorative pillow, Dean slid it under Sam's head before shaking out the throw blanket over him. Easing the bad arm back into the sling, he strapped it down tightly and used a second pillow to brace it.

Satisfied that Sam was as comfortable as he was going to get for the moment, Dean stood, looking around for Amelia. She was busy talking to Jesse in a low voice and Dean rounded the couch, striding towards them.

"We need to talk," he demanded, standing next to her with his arms crossed.

"Yes, we do…," Amelia began absently, waving a hand. "I can give you some tips on how to deal with—"

"I go in, I chop his head off. Strategies and plans discussed. Now, I want some real information and I want it fast so I'm going to ask questions, and you are going to answer, capeesh?"

Amelia half laughed, looking away from him and folding her arms. "I do not think that now is a good time for that. We—"

"Make time!" Dean growled. Conrad was staring daggers at him, but he ignored it, not breaking eye contact with Amelia. She glanced between him and Jesse, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip.

"I need to grab a few more things from the truck," she said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and tugging irritably at her blouse to straighten it.

Dean slammed the door behind them and hurried to block her access to the truck, forcing her to look at him. "First thing, I need to know more about that poison. What is it doing to Sam?"

Amelia made a face. "Do I look like a scientist?"

"Wasn't my question."

She sighed, turning to fully face him. "From my understanding, the poison acts as a sort of...pacemaker? Only in this case, it will cause his heart to fail instead of properly regulating the beat. It floods the body with symptoms that make the heart work harder, such as the fever, until the muscle simply…gives out."

Dean's stomach plummeted and his own heart constricted, but he slowly nodded.

"Fine, are we done here?" Amelia tried to move past him and Dean held out his arm, the anger rushing back.

"No, second thing. Jesse said something about him watching Sam? That needs to change."

Amelia sighed, a hand coming up to rub at her forehead in exasperation. "Look, Jesse's part in the plan finishes before ours does. If you do not want Sam to come and fight with us—and I do not want him to stay in the van, we will be storing weapons there—then someone needs to be here to administer the antidote to him. Or do you wish him to die?"

Dean was already shaking his head. "Make him switch roles with Conrad, or someone else. I don't care. I don't trust Jesse."

"That is not going to happen, honey," Amelia said, crossing her arms again. "Jesse is our undercover man. The nest still thinks he belongs to them, and that Robert owns his loyalty. Well, he does not and Jesse is going to lead them straight into an ambush tonight. Neither Conrad nor I could do that."

Dean shook his head doggedly, standing his ground with his hands on his hips. "No. No, I'm not leaving Sam alone with Jesse. He's shown no self-control, he's been aggressive and for all I know I'm going to come back and find Sam's throat ripped out. I'm not risking my brother's life on your belief that you can control some hotshot. You need me more than you need Jesse, so—"

"Getting a little full of yourself, hunter. I need Jesse far more than I need you," Amelia cut in, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I can always find another hunter, but you…you cannot find another brother."

"You're not just going to toss us aside," Dean snorted, "not after all this planning. You wanted the best, and that's us, so no. You can't replace us." He loomed to his not unrespectable height, his voice rising. Amelia's eyes flashed dangerously.

"What do you want me to do? Jesse is leading them into the ambush, Conrad and I must be there. Unless you want your brother to die, you must do this."

"Leave Conrad behind! Let him play nurse rather than Jesse. Conrad might hate us, but at least he hasn't actively tried to take a bite out of Sam. At least he is not a psychopath."

"No," Amelia began, shaking her head. "That is not the plan."

"Make it the plan, or better yet leave Sam behind with the antidote. He can administer it himself."

"Right, and come back to find him armed with a machete? I do not think so," she snarled as her temper frayed. She took a step forward and shoved her hands against Dean's chest forcefully. "And if you think I am going to let either one of you near that antidote, well, think again."

Dean shook his head, running his hands through his hair as Amelia took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down. A bird chirped from a nearby tree and Dean glared at it.

"Well," Amelia began delicately. "We seem to be at an impasse here. Either Jesse stays and your brother lives. Or Jesse leaves, and Sam dies."

"Why can't Conrad stay?" Dean tried again. "Look, I'm going to be doing the killing. Conrad and you are just there to watch, right? I get that you need to have your whole moment over Robert and whatever, but why does Conrad need to be there? Just have him stay behind."

Amelia frowned, doubt entering her eyes. "Conrad has worked just as hard for this moment and has paid a price almost as great as mine. He deserves to be there for this."

Dean scrubbed both hands over his face, his frustration mounting. "I don't care," he spat. "I really don't care, just bring back Robert's head and show him that. Look, I'm not playing around. You leave Jesse behind…and I will stop playing nice. I'll do what needs to be done, but I'll make your life a living hell any way that I can. However, if you do this…then I'll do whatever you need me to do without question."

Dean locked eyes with her and hoped desperately that she couldn't see the fear that was just under the surface or call his bluff because the reality was that she still held all the cards.

Amelia frowned and was silent for a long time. "I suppose…" she began hesitantly. "I suppose that Conrad could stay."

"Conrad stays, Jesse leaves? And Jesse doesn't come back here until we are done?"

Amelia conceded. "After his part in the plan, I can ask Jesse not to come back until we are finished. He will listen to me. Conrad will stay, and you and I will do the killings."

Nodding briskly in agreement, Dean took a step back, allowing her access to the truck.

Amelia's lip twitched up disdainfully and she waved him away.

Dean reentered the cabin, glaring pointedly at Jesse, before making a beeline straight for the couch.

Sam had twisted over onto his side while Dean was gone, and his breath was coming in short, sharp, pants.

"Sammy, you up?" Dean asked, patting his chest gently.

Sam's eyes opened briefly, only for him to squeeze them shut again as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain was evident in the lines of his face and Dean grimaced on his behalf.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Apparently, vampires don't pack Advil around with them. Go figure. Look, just lay here a moment, don't move around too much. I'm going to go see if I can find you some water."

Dean waited for Sam to dip his head in agreement before patting his chest once more and standing. There was a small fridge over in the other corner of the room and Dean rifled through it. There wasn't much there, and he slammed it shut in frustration before going through the pantry. There, he found a pack of unopened water bottles. Ripping through the plastic with his knife, he grabbed a few and returned to Sam's side.

Despite Dean's earlier instructions, Sam had pushed himself up into a sitting position, though he was hunched over and holding his head in his hand. His skin had a faint green tinge to it, and he was swallowing thickly.

"Here, drink this. It should help." Dean sat down next to him, unscrewing the lid. Sam reached over and mumbled something darkly under his breath as he fought Dean momentarily for control of the bottle before Dean let go.

Pausing to take a breath, Sam managed a couple of unsteady sips before trying to hand it back to Dean.

"Nope, finish the whole thing," Dean reprimanded, pushing it back. "We've got to replace fluids, otherwise you are just going to feel worse."

Sam groaned under his breath but took the water back. He took another sip, and let the bottle hang loosely in his grasp.

Dean watched him worriedly. "You hungry at all?"

Sam shook his head, looking even queasier at the thought and Dean relented for the moment. Before long, he would have to get some food into Sam, but that could wait for a moment.

Sam glanced around the cabin, apparently seeing it for the first time.

"What happened?" he asked, coughing once to clear his throat.

"What do you remember?" Dean countered.

"I…" Sam began, but he had to pause, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "We were in a van, right? We were talking, and I was hot, really hot, and then…" he trailed off, his face crumpling further in confusion.

"Yeah, don't feel too bad that you don't remember much. You were really out of it. They forgot to give you the antidote in time and the poison was flaring up."

Sam opened his mouth, probably to ask another question, but Jesse chose that moment to start yelling. Dean and Sam twisted hurriedly, looking over their shoulders and towards the entrance.

Jesse was standing next to Amelia, his face red as he towered over her.

"YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN PUSH ME AROUND LIKE THAT?" he yelled, bristling with anger. "NOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? JUST HANG AROUND LIKE SOME BORED TEENAGER UNTIL YOU NEED ME? I DON'T THINK SO!"

Dean caught Sam's arm, pulling him back around to face the front. "Let them fight it out," he said quietly, but Sam was giving him a knowing look.

"What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "Look, Jesse has done nothing but stare at you like you were a bloody piece of meat and Amelia wanted Jesse to come back here to give you the antidote. I wasn't about to leave you alone with him, so I forced them to change their plans." He made a face, grimacing. "I mean, it's not like I'm thrilled about anything that has happened, but Conrad's staying instead so that is a win."

Sam was silent for a minute, digesting Dean's words. "I don't know, Dean…there are so many chances that Amelia—or now Jesse—has to double-cross you. What if Jesse not going was their plan all along? And no, I don't have a better plan," he added hurriedly as Dean opened his mouth to ask just that.

He broke off, looking dissatisfied as he ground the heel of his hand into his eye. "Sorry. I'm not thinking super straight." Sam huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "So, I mean, it's not like I would be effective back up right now."

Dean didn't disagree, but he also didn't voice the thought that he would prefer to have Sam watching his back than anyone else.

"What if," Sam began hesitantly, and Dean instantly knew that he was not going to like whatever came out of Sam's mouth next. "You could escape. They are going to give you a machete, maybe even some dead man's blood. Then you could come back here, get me—"

"What are you, obsessed with dying or somethin', Sam? We've already been over this, like twice! She has the trump card, we are just going to have to stick it out." Dean thumped the arm of the couch to make his point and Conrad, who was passing through the room stopped to glare at them, his eyes narrowing.

Dean rolled his eyes, looking away until Conrad continued on his way.

"I don't want to hear you talking about this again, Sammy, okay?" he said softer. "We get out of this together, or not at all."

Sam sighed but nodded even though he looked unhappy with the agreement. That was perfectly fine with Dean. Sam could be as unhappy about this as he wanted, but that didn't mean that he got to call the shots over this.

The shouting stopped and the clicking of heels a moment later announced Amelia's presence as she marched towards them. Dean groaned, tipping his head back.

"What now?" he asked in frustration before she could even speak.

"Conrad said that you two were acting suspicious," she began, sounding frazzled. "May I remind you—"

"I know, I know. Sam's life is on the line."

"Look, it is out of the kindness of my heart that I am letting you two even be in the same room as each other. Do not think that I won't separate you."

"Oh, that's a load of stuffing and we both know it. Me and Sammy, we're two for the price of one." Dean grinned at her.

"Amelia, I'm not done yet!" Jesse called heatedly over and Amelia looked like she was about to explode.

"Why am I doing everything? I want them to try and do what I do for just one day, see how it goes for them…" She mumbled under her breath as she strode away.

"Charming woman. I can't even imagine why her family kicked her out," Dean muttered conspiratorially to Sam, who couldn't help but smile.