Chapter 6 – Down With The Sickness
.Season 2.
Sam, Dean and John never got into the car crash, Dean had never come face to face with a reaper and John never died. But they do find out that if they kill Azazel, his entire bloodline of psychic's die with him. And yet, Sam is the one who kills him anyway. Resulting in the death of all psychic's. But does it include Sam?
"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked, standing in the abandoned room as Dean got up from the ground, they were all shocked to hear the news.
"But don't you see? You kill me, and my bloodline of psychic's die with me. That includes your little Sammy here."
Those words from Azazel had made Dean drop the colt that he held at Sam. Unable to shoot Azazel and kill his brother in the process.
"We go to Bobby's, stay there for a bit until we come up with our next move." Dean stated.
"We need to find Azazel." Sam argued, if Dean had just shot him, this entire thing would be over with, and they could just go back to the simple hunts.
"And do what Sam? Kill him? You heard what he said and you know what's going to happen. I know that your sacrificial ass would kill him anyway but I'm not going to let you die. I will let that bastard live if it means you get to live too." Dean snapped, John was silent. In shock, he wanted to avenge his Mary, but couldn't if it was at the cost of his son. It left him with a gaping hole in his chest.
"You know we have to do this?!" Sam barked, frustrated that he wasn't already dead, they should've shot him before he started talking. "I mean… we have to find a way that I don't die from this. There's gotta be a loophole. I want him dead, God I want him dead. But I don't wanna die in return." Sam rephrased, he really didn't want to die, there's just gotta be another way to get rid of Azazel.
"You won't die, because we're going to let this go." John informed, both Dean and Sam looked towards their Dad in complete confusion. He was just letting this go. Years and years of pushing them both into killing this demon, training them for this exact moment and he was just going to let it go.
"What do you mean? You've been gunning for this demon, Dad you've taken almost your entire life hunting down this bastard, and you're just gonna let it go?" Sam asked, Dean was ecstatic, Sam wasn't gonna die and their Dad was on board with that plan. But he still felt bad that now John had nothing to focus his attention on. He knew it was going to be like this when they had finished the bastard. But, they hadn't finished him, they let him walk, and that just felt worse.
"I'm not going to hunt him down if it means the cost of my son. I don't give a fuck if he burns the world to the grown." John winced at the wrong choice of words. "It means that you'll stay alive Sam." He added, Sam's heart bloomed at the love he was receiving from his family.
"But, what now?" Sam repeated the question that had started the entire conversation.
"Now, we do what Dean said and go to Bobby's, he's gonna wanna hear this. And maybe we can stay there for a while before getting back into the hunt." John smiled at his sons. Sam knew that he had gone way past normal, and knew that now, he didn't want to go back to school. He just wanted to be with his family.
"What if Azazel tries to kill us all?" Sam asked, not knowing what to do in a situation like that.
"Then we die fighting." Dean replied.
"We just roll over and die!?" Sam snapped, not liking the answer.
"It's either he kills us or we kill him, you and thousands of other psychics that are probably innocent people as well." Dean snapped back.
"It won't be worth it if I have to watch you die Dean." Sam stated.
"Let's just high tale to Bobby's, we'll talk more when the old man is involved." John ordered, they all began cleaning up their weapons and heading out towards the Impala, ready for the journey to Bobby's.
"What's going on?" Bobby asked, confused. He hadn't seen John in years, but they all looked, confused, depressed. It didn't sit right. "Why the long faces?" he tried to boast up the mood. Didn't work.
"We've got a lot of explaining to do." Sam was the one who spoke, he gave Bobby a quick hug on the way inside.
"Too right." Bobby responded, looking towards his old friend in confusion. John just motioned inside as Dean passed them with his own duffle bag.
Sam and Dean placed their duffle bags in their shared room before heading back downstairs, sad smiles between the two as they went and sat down in the living room. Where Bobby and John were waiting.
"What's going on?" Bobby repeated.
"We can't kill Azazel, nor can anyone else for that matter. In fact, Azazel's probably high on our protecting list." John stated, so much hate and venom at the mention of his wife's killer.
"What?!" Bobby gasped, he never thought he'd hear such words from the fierce Winchester who had spent almost his whole life hunting the demon that he now needs to protect.
"If Azazel dies, all psychics that he's created die with him. It's his bloodline thing." Dean commented.
"Including me." Sam added, Bobby looked between all three Winchester's before his eyes finally rest on Sam. Why the hell would the world be so cruel? Their worst enemy is linked with their most cherished prize, and now they could no longer rid the world of the evil known as Azazel.
"Oh hell." Bobby muttered, taking a seat and placing his hand over his mouth in thought. "What do we do then? Obviously, we can't kill him but he can't stay here." Bobby asked.
"Nothing. We can't do anything to Azazel. Because the only thing we can do is kill him. We could send him back to hell, but he'd only come back soon after." John sighed, sitting down on the opposite chair to Bobby and holding his head in his hands.
"So, we keep hunting. Just because we can't hunt down one demon doesn't mean that there isn't other evil out there. We've still got work to do." Sam informed, looking at all the members of his family.
"Great speech." Dean smirked, mocking his brother. Earning a chuckle from the youngest Winchester.
They were too busy to notice the figure in the dark. Or the yellow eyes that it obtained. They were too busy to know of the plans that this yellow eyed figure was conjuring up.
It was during the night, approximately 3:12am when the fight went down. Sam, as always was having another one of his horrific nightmares. This one was different, it was about a strange figure in the dark, someone he couldn't recognise. Yet by the time he woke up, he couldn't remember the dream.
Sam awoke covered in sweat and shivers, looking around the room he couldn't see any sign of Dean, so after checking the time he got out of bed and looked around. Exiting the room, walking down the halls. He checked in Bobby's room, his Dad's room. And no one was anywhere. He walked towards his father's bedside table, picking up the only gun he could find at the time. It just so coincidentally happened to be the Colt. After leaving his father's room, he heard voices coming from downstairs, hushed voices. So, Sam sneakily walked towards the stairs, not being able to catch sight of anything. He continued walking.
After hearing a big clash. He bounded down the stairs, aiming the gun. He walked into the living room and the sight shocked him, he saw John and Bobby plastered on the wall in a cross-like hold and Dean bleeding on the ground. Turning to the intruder he aimed the gun up at him.
"Sammy no!" Dean barked out, the intruder turned his gaze to Sam. 'Thanks for blowing my cover jackass, I could've gotten hold of him'. Sam thought with a roll of his eyes. But when the intruder looked at Sam, he understood why Dean was so adamant on keeping him alive.
"Azazel." Sam growled, hating how he couldn't kill Azazel without killing possibly thousands of innocents as well. But what could he possibly do, he was killing Dean. He would kill his entire family and not care, now that he had the upper hand.
"Sammy. My boy. It's good to see you. How about you put that Colt down and come over here?" Azazel smirked, knowing he wouldn't get shot.
"How about I keep the Colt aimed at you and stay exactly where I am?" Sam rhetorically questioned, not taking his eyes off the movements of Azazel, one wrong turn and Azazel would be no more.
"You can't kill me Sam, not without killing anyone else. Your family, they always make the mistake of getting in my way." Azazel growled, turning towards Dean and clenching his fist. Dean roared out in pain as his chest started bleeding.
"Stop!" Sam barked, taking the safety off the gun. Azazel was shocked, and that shock was the one thing that made him stop, he heard the noise of the gun and turned around to face Sam again.
"You wouldn't shoot me Sammy." Azazel chuckled, although Sam heard the question.
"Try me." Sam growled.
"Sam no!" John yelled angrily, he hated that he couldn't do anything. He hated how Azazel now had the other hand, and he hated how their long-time enemy was now about to destroy both of his sons.
"Don't you dare Sammy!" Dean barked out, it was an order. But it was one Sam didn't know if he could go through with.
"I think you should all be very quiet." Azazel ordered, turning to the three and raising his hands to them, blood started seeping from their eyes and Sam knew that if he didn't start moving now, his family would die. He panicked, forgot what breathing meant, what it was. Then he saw Dean fly across the room, as well as John and Bobby. One shot was all it took, one bullet lodged into his brain. And then Azazel was no more.
Dean, John and Bobby were all unconscious, Azazel was dead, and Sam knew that soon, he would be too. But he also knew that in the process, he had killed so many others. And that was something he couldn't handle. Sam gently placed the Colt on the coffee table and walked outside, he had to think things through, everything was going to change now. He didn't worry about grabbing his coat, couldn't be bothered. He walked towards the Impala, the only place that's ever felt like home to him. Before sitting on the hood of the Impala and just thinking about the events that just happened, and the events that would
be taking place soon.
Day 1
Morning reached sooner than expected, and with morning came the awakening of Dean, John and Bobby. Dean was the first to wake up, looking around the room he noticed a few things, John and Bobby were still unconscious, Sam was nowhere to be found, and there was a dead body with a bullet hole. The Colt on the coffee table. Then the events all came back to him, and Dean knew exactly who the dead guy was. Question was, where was Sam.
"What've you done Sam?" Dean asked himself, standing up and placing his hand to his head as pain crashed through his scalp, he felt a white-hot pain in his chest that sent him back tumbling to the floor.
"Easy Dean." John murmured, grabbing his son and helping him lay on the couch. "Bobby! Go get the first aid kit." He ordered, turning back to Dean and taking his shirt off to inspect the wounds properly.
"Dad, that's Azazel." Dean stated, John looked to the side, his memory immediately coming back.
"Sam." John panicked, not his boy. Where was he? He wasn't in the living room. Bobby came back with a first aid kit.
"You gotta let me find him." Dean pleaded, sitting up.
"I'll find him. Bobby stitch him up and keep him steady. I'll talk with Sam... if he's still-…" John ordered, looking towards Bobby before standing up. Questioning the wellbeing of both of his children, but depression filling him at the thought of Sam not being alive anymore.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence. Sam is fine, he's probably in the room, or bathroom, outside, kitchen. I don't know. Just… oh god." Dean panicked, Bobby walked towards him and began his work.
"I think I heard the radio on in the kitchen, I never keep it on." Bobby stated. Cleaning off the dried blood mattering his chest and stomach.
"I'll go there now." John stood up and rushed into the kitchen, the sight shocked him. Sure, there was breakfast ready on the kitchen bench, eggs, bacon, chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice. But the kitchen table was a mess. Books everywhere, papers scattered around the place. Furniture broken, smashed and thrown around. Sam was sitting on the chair in front of the kitchen table, a radio in front of him. Writing things down in an extremely neat workbook. The only thing that looked like Sammy's work, the rest looked like things of a panicking kid.
"Sammy." John whispered, walking closer towards his kid. He walked around the table, trying to get a different view of Sam, who was furiously writing. Then John tuned into what he was listening too.
"107 recently found dead, the hospitals are baffled at the number of killings within the age 20-25. It has been five hours since the deaths began and so far, reaching a total of 612 within the United States of America. Further notice will be granted as soon as we've heard more of the deaths of United States."
"She got the number wrong." Sam said above the silence. "620. How can they get the number wrong? It's like the deaths don't even count anymore! I don't get it. How can they get the number wrong?" Sam rambled, writing down the newest number and the total tally of numbers.
"Sammy, calm down buddy. Are all the deaths-?" John didn't have to continue to know, he walked towards his son, kneeled and placed his arms over Sammy's shoulders. He looked pale, he looked sick. The bloodline was working already.
"Yeah. Psychic's. They're dying because I killed Azazel, because I couldn't grab a normal gun and shoot him with that. Because I couldn't use an exorcism. I failed Dad, look at the tally rising. So many people are dying in five fucking hours and it's all my fault!" Sam yelled angrily. He was depressed, upset.
"Sam… it's not your fault. We've gotta get you some help or something, we've gotta fix this. I'll go and find something that'll keep you alive. Hunt down something." John stated, now seeing the total damage that this could do. This was going to kill Sam.
"You're gonna go hunt?! Are you kidding me?! I'm going to fucking die and you're going off to hunt!" Sam roared, standing up and shoving his father back, staggering a little himself but keeping his cool by resting one hand on the table to keep him upright.
"I've killed… I'm killing so many innocents! I'm going to die!" Sam snapped before his expression turned depressed, broken. "I don't wanna die Dad." Sam pleaded, he had tears in his eyes. Hell, John had tears in his own eyes as he watched his son fall apart.
"You won't Sammy. I promise you." John walked towards his son and pulled him in for a long-awaited hug. "I love you Sammy, and I promise you. No matter what, I'll keep you safe. Trust me Sammy. I'll go and find out how to keep you alive okay?" John pleaded for Sam to let him do this, let him find a way to save his son.
"Don't be gone too long, and answer your phone when we call. Be careful. And-…" Sam rambled, pulling away from the hug but not breaking contact.
"I get it. Shouldn't I be the father and you be the son. Calm down Sammy." John whispered. None of them knew of the two other hunters standing by the doorway until Bobby cleared his throat.
"As soon as he starts showing any signs you call me immediately." John ordered, turning to the two hunters by the door. Pointing at Sam furiously to try and state his point further. He needed to make sure his son was safe.
"Be careful Dad." Dean ordered as John pulled him in for a hug. "Call whenever you can."
A few hours after John's departure Sam was sitting beside the radio again, Dean and Bobby had eaten his breakfast and Dean had done the dishes. Dean hadn't taken his eyes off his brother, which is why Dean was in the kitchen, moving around throughout the hours, dying of boredom.
"Can't we go out?" Dean asked, groaning slightly.
"1,207 deaths. Dean this is skyrocketing out of control and I must keep count so I know how many there were. I need to do this. I have to complete it before-…" Sam cut himself off from speaking. Dean knew exactly what Sam was going to say, and he also knew that Sam was going to run himself through guilt until he was going to… No. Dean couldn't think about that.
"So, you're gonna spend the rest of whatever time you've got sitting in front of a radio writing down numbers that won't make a difference because you'll be too far off this planet to look back at them! They're just going to go in the fireplace before I put a bullet in my own brain!" Dean barked out, standing up and facing his brother. Sam immediately stopped movement, looked up at his brother with wide eyes.
"Dean… no." Sam pleaded. "Think about Dad."
"Think about Dad? Sammy I'm more concerned thinking about you. You know that I won't survive long out here on my own. With you dead. Sammy, we've gotta find a way to stop this before you… before it gets bad." Dean pleaded, he wanted to help Sam, he wanted Sam to help himself. To bring himself up.
"It's already bad. What're you expecting me to do? What do you expect me to fight for knowing how many people I'm killing!" Sam snapped, standing up and almost falling, Dean rushed in and caught him. It was already sinking in. And fast.
"Fight for me Sammy. Because I'm still here, and the only way you can kill me is if you die yourself. So, just please. Don't let yourself die." Dean begged placing a hand on Sam's cheek and making him look down to Dean. "Please." He added.
"What're we supposed to do? Just cut the bloodline?" Sam asked rhetorically, it was just a joke, but Dean's eyes widened once he had the idea.
"Sam?" Dean began, wide eyed.
"What?" Sam asked, concerned.
"You are a genius Sammy. An absolute genius little brother." Dean smiled happily, moving away from Sam but making sure he was standing on his own.
"Why?" Sam wondered.
"I might know a way to save you."
"How?"
"Like you said, break the bloodline."
And after numerous calls, Dean to his father, Bobby to all his hunter friends, and Sam to all the people in Stanford that he had met that might help with the situation. Of course, only telling them intricate details. All saying that they would consider it. And John was more than thrilled to take on the possibility.
After a lot of challenging work, Sam and Dean went into the loungeroom with beer and snacks. This was when it all took a turn for the worse. As soon as the news came on, Sam lost his shit.
"The loss of 2,463 people from ages 20-25 have hit the citizens of the United States of America. Although the deaths haven't discontinued so far, we have firm believes that they are slowing down and we believe that these unexplainable deaths should stop around tomorrow morning. The hospitals are still baffled at the reasoning of the sudden heart-stopping deaths."
Dean knew that Sam was going to snap, that death tally was too high. And no theory from any news reporter was going to be accurate on the ending of this tally. "Sam…" Dean tried.
"Don't. Did you hear how many people? I… Dean I… I don't even know what to say. God, I've killed-…" Sam cut himself off, with a little help from Dean who came in a brief time later.
"Sam no. This is not your fault. You need to calm down buddy." Dean begged.
"No! I… I… oh god. I'm gonna die Dean. I'm gonna die, I don't wanna die." Sam whispered, tearing up. Sam stood up, yet he stood up too quickly. He tumbled down and landed on his hands and knees, trying to keep himself up.
"Sam!" Dean called, trying to get to his brother. Sam turned around, still on the ground but facing him.
"No! Don't touch me!" Sam shouted before coughing up a little bit.
"Sam please, trust me. Sammy." Dean whispered, walking slowly towards Sam as if he was a wounded animal. Sam let Dean reach him, let Dean help him stand. "You're getting worse." Dean added.
"I know." Sam responded. They both shared a grim look. "I'm kinda tired." Sam whispered, Dean helped him lay down on the couch, getting one of the cushions.
"Don't go dying on me Sammy." Dean half joked, yet Sam could still hear the worry before falling asleep. Dean switched off the television and walked into the kitchen to get something stronger then beer.
"How's he doin'?" Bobby asked as Dean passed through his office.
"Getting worse." Dean whispered sadly.
"Don't worry, we'll get him a way out. Sam ain't dyin'. Not if you Winchester's have a say about it." Bobby smiled as kindly as he could to lighten up the mood.
"I'm scared Bobby, I'm so scared that I'm going to lose him to this. He's already claiming that he's tired, and he looks so sick Bobby." Dean sighed, tears in his eyes.
"From what I've researched the bloodline should be finished in 24 hours. Ending tomorrow morning." Bobby stated.
"He's going to die by tomorrow! Damn Bobby he's already asleep!" Dean panicked before rushing towards his little brother.
"Dean don't!" Bobby warned, grabbing hold of Dean's bicep.
"Why!?" Dean snapped in panic.
"Because he's just asleep. We'll keep an eye on him. Make sure nothing happens. You heard the news report, every other Psychic's hearts just stopped. Sam's getting sick, maybe it's different because he's the one that killed Azazel. We don't know." Bobby reassured.
"I can't lose him Bobby. I can't watch him die." Dean snapped, grabbing his jacket, wallet, keys and phone before walking out.
"Dean you cannot leave Sam alone with this." Bobby growled, following Dean was he walked to his car.
"I'm not, I'll be back before he wakes up." Dean sighed before speeding straight out of the Salvage Yard.
"Damn it!" Bobby growled to himself, knowing that Dean wouldn't be back anytime soon. He walked back inside, looking at Sam and seeing a frown in his expression. "Sammy?" Bobby questioned, worriedly. He walked towards the kid right before he sat straight up, Bobby knew the look and rushed to get a bucket underneath Sam's mouth as he threw up whatever he ate for breakfast.
"I don't feel too good Bobby." Sam groaned, throwing up all over again.
"Hold this kiddo, I'm going to go get a glass of water for ya' okay. Calm down." Bobby whispered.
"De'n…" Sam coughed, it sounded dry, painful. And Bobby didn't like the sound of it.
"He's out now, but he'll be back really soon." Bobby stated, not knowing how true it was.
"H'rts." Sam teared up, his eyes drooping.
"Sammy. Let's get you some rest okay kiddo. Then maybe we'll get ya' some of the good stuff." Bobby whispered, brushing his hand through the Sam's hair, this was something he knew Dean did to comfort him, but Dean wasn't here. So, he'd just have to try it himself. Make sure Sam was comfortable as he got sicker and sicker.
Bobby moved the bin and sat it on the coffee table to dispose of later so it wouldn't make a smell. He walked towards the cabinet to grab a blanket for the kid, knowing damn well that he wasn't going to move Sam into a place upstairs where he wouldn't be able to see him all the time. After placing the blanket over the sleeping kid, he grabbed the bucket and cleaned everything up. Placing the bin beside Sam when he was done.
Throughout tossing and turning, more throwing up, more cleaning, cooking, researching. Bobby was exhausted and trying to call Dean. But he wasn't responding and Sam was looking worse.
"A higher rise in the death toll for America has reached 3,004. Hospitals are swarmed with the body count and nobody understands what is going on. We just must consider this a major drop in the world, a heartbreaking memory of what we've lost, the deaths become a historical event for the entirety of the United States."
The public had given up. But the hunting family, the Winchester's. They still had to figure out a way to rid the bloodline from Sam before they lost one of their own. Bobby switched off the radio, going to Sam's book and writing down the new number, knowing this is what Sam would want him to do now, write down the death count.
He heard Sammy whimpering from the other room, placing his head in his hands not knowing what he could do. "Damn it Dean. Come back and sort your brother out. Please." Bobby whispered, and by some miracle Dean had heard him because he walked straight through the door.
"Hey Bobby." Dean whispered, he'd been drinking. Not enough to get him fully drunk, but enough to get him tipsy.
"Where the hell have you been boy?!" Bobby snapped. "Your brother has been gettin' worse! Throwin' up everything I put into him, pale, sweaty, shivering, he hasn't been able to keep anything in whilst you've been all around the place!" Bobby growled. Dean's eyes widened in shock before walking into the living room, watching as he whimpered.
"He… oh God Bobby." Dean whispered, kneeling beside his brother and brushing his hand through Sam's hair.
"I think it's time to call your father. Get Sammy more comfortable than he is." Bobby whispered.
"He can't be up there on his own Bobby." Dean snapped.
"I was thinking more making room and bringing Sam's bed into the living room, might be a little bit better than the sofa." Bobby informed.
"I'll start getting it sorted, can you call Dad?" Dean asked, standing up and beginning to move the couches and everything for his brother's comfort.
"Sure, thing Dean." Bobby murmured, walking into the kitchen and grabbing his phone. Listening silently to Sam's whimpers, wishing there was more that he could do.
"This is John." He was greeted from the other end of the line.
"You might need to stop looking and come here. Sam's not doing to good right now. And by our calculations, the deaths end in the morning." Bobby stated gloomily.
"Where is Sam? Let me speak with him." John ordered, he sounded worried.
"That isn't possible right now, he's barely coherent as it is. We need you here John, it's gettin' rocky." Bobby said.
"I'm so close to finding a way to cut the bloodline, just tell 'em to hang in there and I'll be there once the bloodline has been severed." John stated before hanging up the phone. Bobby slammed the phone down on the table, he shouldn't be getting this angry, this is exactly how John showed that he cared. Hunting. Bobby decided to just ignore it for now, and head into the living room to help Dean with Sam's area.
He walked into the living room and found that most things had already been moved, there was plenty of space for them to move Sam's bed, he could also tell that the sofa was only moved slightly.
"I couldn't move it, I tried and he… Sam didn't like it so I stopped. The sofa is the last thing that gets moved." Dean ordered, he had the pillow and blanket from Sam's bed placed on the coffee table, folded neatly. "I just need help with the bed." Dean sighed.
"Alright, we'll get the bed and I think I've still got an I.V somewhere that we'll have to place, Sam's gonna need his fluids somehow if he can't keep it down. We can sit that beside him." Bobby ordered, gesturing for Dean to follow him back up into the bedroom.
It took around fifteen minutes to lug around the bed as well as being able to fit it exactly where they wanted it to go. "I'll go grab the I.V, sort the bedding out." Bobby ordered before walking downstairs into the panic room. He kept it in a box, made sure it stayed safe and clean for cases like this.
After everything was set up Dean went out to grab some burgers. They still hadn't moved Sam, they were going to wait for everything to get slightly better before moving him. Hoping that everything was getting better.
"I went and got some curtains, you know the ones they put in hospitals to separate the patients, yeah… those. I got them in black because that's the only colour they had and I figured Sam won't be able to cope with light after a while. He's gonna want some privacy, especially if someone comes over that doesn't know Sammy or anything." Dean rambled as he walked through the front door, placing the bag of food down on the coffee table before setting up the curtains, leaving them open all the way, he moved a chair so it sat beside Sam's bed as well. Yet they still haven't moved him.
They were both sat in the kitchen, eating away in silence when Sam woke up, he was still sick, but at least he could slightly move around. Even if he looked horrible.
"Hey." His voice croaked above the silence.
"Sammy?" Dean questioned, standing up and walking towards his little brother before pulling him in for a hug. "You look like shit Sammy." Dean whispered sadly, placing his hand at the back of Sam's neck and pressing their foreheads together.
"You…" Sam stopped midsentence before pushing Dean away a bit and turning his head to the side.
"Sammy? Talk to me buddy." Dean whispered, trying to reach back out for his brother. But Sam wouldn't accept it, he moved away. "What's going on Sammy? You gotta talk to me man." Dean ordered, taking a step closer.
"Sorry." Sam murmured. "I just... have no clue what that was. I just… forgot everything for a second." He whispered, looking around, clearly confused.
"It's gonna be okay Sammy, you just gotta be okay until tomorrow morning and by then we'll know that you've got a 50% chance at surviving this thing." Dean whispered, not expecting the radio to come on.
"We've just been noticed of more deaths. Skyrocketing 5,819 deaths in the United States. It appears bodies just immediately dropped themselves at the same point of time. Maybe this is the end of the epidemic. Maybe there's still more to come. Doctors still haven't figured out what's causing all the deaths, but will have further information once tests have been completed."
"5,819? What? How many of us are there Dean?" Sam croaked, looking towards the radio in shock. He saw Bobby write down the new number in the book, they had been keeping track for him. "Where's Dad?" Sam asked, thinking his Dad was going to be there now that everything was reaching the deadline. "And why is my bed in the living room?" He added.
"You're Daddy ain't here, he says he's close though." Bobby responded.
"Your bed is in the living room because it beats having to cart up and down the stairs all the time. You hungry?" Dean smirked, watching as Sam looked around the table, screwing up his face at the smell.
"No. I'm gonna be sick if I eat anything. Head hurts though." Sam whispered.
"Yeah, I'll get ya' something for that." Bobby murmured before walking out of the kitchen.
"I'm getting worse." Sam stated. "Hell, I'm even starting to lose my mind completely." He added sadly, looking towards Dean who only obtained a sad look in return.
"I don't know what to say little brother. But I am going to make this better, you're not going to be like this forever." Dean promised.
"Nah, I'm just gonna die first." Sam informed, telling Dean what he truly believed. "I just wanna be alone when it actually happens, can't imagine dying when you or Bobby are around ya' know." Sam whispered.
"You're not going to die Sam." Dean growled.
"Get real Dean. Look around you, every Psychic is dying. I'm getting sick, it's gonna end. And soon." Sam snapped, opening his arms out wide.
"But you are different. Maybe it's different because you were the one that killed Azazel, you're different because maybe your body is sick because it's just fighting off the blood that is trying to kill you." Dean reasoned, trying to make Sam believe that he could survive this. Yet, mostly trying to make himself believe that Sam would survive this. With only a few hours until morning. Dean was getting desperate.
"Okay. Okay. I'm too tired to argue right now." Sam sighed, brushing his hand over his face before once again looking around the room.
"How about we get you some food, I know you said you weren't hungry but we've gotta try. Okay?" Dean asked, trying to be as careful as he could.
"I don't think I can." Sam whispered, taking a seat across from where Dean was sitting.
"I bought some plain crackers with me when I was out, wanna try one of them? You've gotta eat something Sammy." Dean stated, walking to the shopping bag and grabbing out a small box of crackers, he decided o grabbing a cup of water as well, before sitting both objects in front of his brother. He sat across from him, back in his usual seat. "Bobby called Dad before." Dean bought up a conversation. He didn't like the silence.
"What did he say?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean as he steadily opened the box of crackers, he took one and bit on it, taking the smallest nibble to see if it would spike anything. Dean smiled widely at the sight of his sick little brother eating something.
"He said that he was close to cutting the bloodline between you and Azazel, he cuts the bloodline and you don't die." Dean stated.
"Yeah, he cuts my bloodline. But what about all those other Psychic's, the other ones that are dying because I couldn't fight Azazel properly." Sam snapped.
"Calm down Sammy. We can't help any of the other Psychic's because by morning they are all going to be dead, but you've still got time. We've still got time to get you better." Dean defended, truth was, he couldn't care less about the rest of the world right now. Sure, it sucked that so many people were dying because of Azazel, but Sam was dying too, and Sam was Dean's top priority right now.
"Don't tell me to calm down I-… I don't want to be like this anymore." Sam whispered, placing his head in his hand as he took another nibble of the cracker.
"I know, and we'll fix it." Dean told, placing his hand over the one that Sam had his head leaning against. Bobby walked into the room, Dean straightened himself back up again and Sam greedily took the pills he held out, drowning them down with water.
"Think you'll be up for a walk outside later little brother?" Dean asked with a smirk.
"Why? You never like walking?" Sam frowned in confusion.
"Yeah, but you like walking. And we've gotta get you up and moving. So, a walk is out best bet right now." Dean shrugged.
"Sure." Sam smiled sadly, he had to find the correct place he wanted to die anyway. A walk was his best bet, if not for his health, then for his death.
After they continued eating, and made sure Sam would hold his food down, Sam and Dean went for a walk. Bobby said that someone in town needed him for a hunting thing so he had taken off. The boys didn't go far, just around the salvage yard, making sure that if Sam did collapse, Dean would be able to bring him inside as soon as possible.
"When are we going hunting?" Sam asked.
"What? Hunting? Sam, you may be able to move but if you think for a second that I'm taking you hunting whilst you're this sick, then you're sicker then we all had originally thought." Dean was shocked that Sam would even mention hunting after all that has happened so far.
"I just figured-…" Sam began.
"No man. I'm not suicidal. And I'm not going to get you killed, don't care if it's a simple ghost hunt. Because nothing is ever simple and you can still die. We're going to stay here Sammy, we're going to stay here until you get better." Dean interrupted in argument.
"What if I don't get better Dean!?" Sam had finally snapped. "Think about it for a moment?! What if I don't get better?! I get it Dean, really, I do. I'm gonna go and you're gonna be left here alone, but you've been without me before, you're gonna be fine." Sam sighed, he didn't want to die, he was scared. But he needed Dean to be okay.
"I've been without you before?" Dean rhetorically questioned in shock. "I knew you were alive Sammy!" Dean barked out, he was angry. How could Sam think for a moment that Dean would even remotely be fine without him?
"I just-…" Sam cut himself off before staggering back a little. Dean knew the look on his face, it was the same look that Sam had inside not too long ago.
"Sammy?" Dean questioned, trying to take a step towards his brother. He remembered what Sam had said.
-I just... have no clue what that was. I just… forgot everything for a second.-
Sam staggered further back, using the car behind him to lean on as to not fall, Sam had his head down, he looked confused, shocked. He looked up and kept his eyes straight ahead of him.
"Sammy. Come on man, look at me." Dean tried walking closer, but Sam took another step away before looking back to the ground. "I'm Dean." He introduced. Sam closed his eyes, he looked like he was having an inner debate. Before snapping them weakly to Dean.
"Dean." Sam whispered, standing up straight and frowning. Dean smiled a little, walked towards his brother and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It's gonna be alright." Dean reassured.
"I'm tired." Sam groaned, feeling something running down his face, he placed a hand underneath his nose. It was bleeding. Dean's eyes widened.
"Come inside and we'll clean you right up. Get you some sleep." Dean ordered, leading his brother inside.
Bobby walked through the door, dinner in his hands, he looked towards the living room and saw Dean on the chair beside his brother. "What happened?" he spoke up, Dean looked at him. Tears in his eyes and still falling.
"I took him inside, everything was fine Bobby. He had a blood nose and as soon as it stopped he collapsed. I put him in the bed but… Damn it I thought he was getting better. We've only got a few hours left." Dean whispered depressingly.
"I know, but now all we can do is be here for him." Bobby whispered before the front door was slammed close. Bobby got up, Dean grabbed his gun in defence.
"Dad?" Dean questioned, making sure he really was there.
"Where's Sam?" John asked, not faltering in his movements.
"Over there, he won't wake up but he can still hear you." Dean whispered, John walked towards his youngest son.
"Sammy." He whispered, brushing a hand lightly through his hair. "I need to look through some of your books Bobby, and I've got a hunting buddy coming down tomorrow to help out." John rushed through what he was saying before storming off into the office.
"What do you want me to do Dad?" Dean asked, following him. He needed an order, he needed to know what to do. Because right now he had no clue what he was supposed to do. He was hoping that his father had ordered him to research, to allow him an excuse to take his mind off everything.
"I need you to get some research done. Head to the library in town." John ordered.
"I can't leave Dad, I can't leave Sammy hear. What if something happens and I'm not here to be with him when he-…" Dean cuts himself off, not even daring to say what he was thinking. John stopped what he was doing, he knew the seriousness of the situation, and he knew that Dean wouldn't want to leave.
"Okay, alright. It's okay Dean. We'll just figure out what we can here. Grab some books on whatever you can find that might relate to this thing. We'll break the bloodline." John reassured.
"A major downfall in the deaths. Leading to a total 6,714. Hospitals have given up searching for a reasoning behind this unexpected fall, but a secret team are still searching for answers. A memorial will take place in all towns, cities and states in the United Nation as a loss for these adults that will be missed."
"That's not the end of it. It ends in the morning." Dean stated.
"Then we've got a lot of work to do." Bobby chimed into the conversation as he walked into the office room.
Day 2
"What time is it?" Dean asked as he snapped awake, getting up from the table he had his arms crossed on and his head resting as he slept.
John looked at the time from the book he was reading. "8:42." He commented, before moving back to his book. Dean's eyes widened before standing up swiftly.
"Sammy!" Dean barked out, rushing towards the bed where his brother was. Panicking, it was morning. The deaths were supposed to be over with. Dean stopped in his tracks, when he saw that the bed was empty.
"Come here." John ordered with a small smile, Dean followed him, he was led to a window, looking outside he saw Sammy with Bobby, Bobby was helping him walk around.
"He woke up at around 7:20 this morning. Had some food and started reading one of Bobby's books to see if he could help cut the bloodline. Got a bit sick and threw up, then Bobby took him outside to help him walk around a bit, get some fresh air. He's doing better." John informed happily. Eyes on the youngest Winchester, who was wobbling and falling. But kept hold of both the car and Bobby who had an arm out for him to hold on.
Dean didn't say anything in return, he just ran to the door, grabbed his jacket and was about to run out before being interrupted. "I don't think so." John stated, shutting the door that Dean had opened. "Eat breakfast first please. Because I know that as soon as you go out there you aren't going to be eating." He added.
"I'm not a kid anymore." Dean grumbled, trying to get out.
"You'll always be my kid Dean. No outside until you've eaten breakfast." John ordered, pushing Dean towards the kitchen. He opened the microwave and bought out a bowl of porridge and a cup of coffee. "Want it all gone before you go." John stated before walking out into the living room. He grabbed one of Bobby's books, and sat at the table in front of the window.
"Dad, I wanna go see Sammy." Dean called out, grumbling, sculling down the coffee before digging into the porridge.
"After your breakfast Dean. Can't have you working yourself to death without any food." John yelled back in response. Dean grabbed the porridge and went to go sit with John, mainly to look out the window and watch how his brother was doing.
Sam was wobbling towards where Bobby was, tired and feeling sickly, but not giving up. He loved the smell of the fresh air, and marvelled in the fact that he didn't have to be unconscious to the world and lying in the same bed for hours.
"You're doin' great Sam." Bobby applauded Sam's efforts, who found that he still couldn't keep standing. Sam toppled over and bought his hands out to halt his fall.
"Damn it!" Sam scolded, turning over so he was casually sitting down. Bobby rushed and kneeled beside him. "I can't do it. I'm not strong enough yet." Sam grumbled, before feeling a wave of nausea. He flew away from Bobby and threw up on the ground. Coughing in every spare moment he had. It was a struggle to breathe, like usual. But no one could stop the nauseating attacks from happening.
"It's alright Sammy." Sam heard a new voice. He knew it was Dean, and he was pleased to hear his brother. But this really wasn't the time for him to come over. Sam tried shoving him away in shame, but Dean wasn't having any of it. "I'm not leaving you Sam, I promise." Dean whispered, rubbing his back.
Sam's attacks stopped soon after, he sat up straight with the help of Dean and Bobby. "You okay buddy, maybe we should go inside." Dean offered.
"No." Sam grumbled. "I've spent too much time already inside, I wanna stay out here for a bit longer." He added, knowing that if he went inside he would want to go straight to bed and sleep.
"Okay, well I wanna get some work done on Baby whilst we're here, how about you come with me and you can chill out?" He offered again, needing something to do but not wanting to take his eyes off his little brother in case something happened. Sam nodded in response.
"I'll head inside, your Dad's probably lookin' for another case, now that he don't have to look at cuttin' the bloodline." Bobby stated, petting both the boys on the back before walking back inside. Dean helped stand Sam up and they both walked towards the Impala, Dean helping Sam along the way.
They got to the car, Dean opened the hood and Sam sat down leaning up against a pillar. "You feel any better today?" Dean asked, making up conversation to avoid the silence.
"It's not been too bad today, other than not being able to walk and feeling like complete shit. But I haven't been too bad." Sam responded, he turned to the side, suddenly feeling extremely sleepy, he knew he couldn't sleep now. He didn't want to, not with the risk of getting sick all over again.
A few minutes of silence between the brothers became all too real for Dean. He needed to hear his brothers voice and stop thinking through his own mind. "Hey Sammy, what do you say that we take Baby and head out to town. I'm sure we could both use-… Sammy?" Dean turned around and saw Sam asleep, leaning up against the pillar. He looked… No.
"Sammy. You answer me." Dean ordered, rushing to his little brothers side Dean turned Sam's head, so he was facing the direction of Dean's eyes. He had blood falling from his nose, and the corner of his mouth. "Sam!" Dean cried out, terrified. He placed his middle and index finger to the point of Sam's neck, trying to find a pulse, one found he checked his breathing. It was there. "Dad! Dad!" Dean screamed out, he couldn't carry Sam on his own. John came barrelling out of the house soon after hearing his name belted from the garage. "I don't understand. It was supposed to be finished with. He was better, he looked better." Dean rambled, John saw the damage Sam had physically, but he also saw the damage Dean had mentally. And his heart broke at the sight.
"Is he…" Bobby spoke from behind John.
"He's alive." Dean growled at the question. "He was fine, then I turned around and he wasn't waking up. He isn't responding to anything I say or do and I don't know what to do." Dean croaked, trying to keep from crying. Sam looked so much worse. He started coughing again, coughing up a little more blood. But not waking up, yet scaring all three hunters more. "He was supposed to be getting better. This was supposed to end." Dean snapped.
They got Sam inside and lay him on the bed, Dean sat on the chair beside him. Not moving, mostly dabbing a cold cloth on Sam's head, and cleaning the blood that came from his nose and mouth. Yet, he still hadn't awoken. "You wake up soon Sammy. You aren't supposed to die. Dad is back in the office looking for something, Bobby went out to the library. He's gonna come back with food later, how about you wake up by the time he comes back and you'll be able to have some of that rabbit food you like so much." Dean whispered, brushing his hand through Sam's hair.
There was a loud knock on the door, Dean whipped around and grabbed his gun, cocking the safety off and getting ready to shoot if needed. John walked out of the office and went towards the door. "Who is it?" Dean asked casually, but glaring lightly.
"Richard. The hunting friend I said was coming down." John responded before opening the door. "Didn't think you were gonna turn up." He added as a man walked through the door.
"I wasn't at first, then I remembered how desperate the infamous Winchester sounded. Oh shit, that the boy?" Richard asked, pointing towards the kid lying in the bed, Dean got up and moved towards the curtain he had put up. Before wrapping it around to hide Sam and give him privacy. He didn't want this stranger looking in on his little brother. Dean walked towards his father and Richard.
"Dean." He introduced, holding out his hand.
"Dean Winchester, nice to finally meet one of John's boys. Let's just hope we manage to save the other one." Richard winked before moving off and walking around the house, basically making himself at home.
"I don't like him." Dean growled.
"I know. He's a bit… different. But you'll either get used to him or just put up with him. He's good at what he does." John sighed.
"And what is that exactly?" Dean asked.
"Research." John responded before following Richard into the office.
"Careful Sammy. You might turn into him." Dean shuddered at the thought before grabbing Sam's laptop and hiding himself in the curtains with his brother. Just so he could research and keep an eye on his little brother.
Bobby came back soon after, bringing food with him. Dean opened the curtain, grabbed his food and closed it again. "Come on Sammy, this burger is extra greasy this time. You gonna complain?" Dean wished to be able to hear his brothers voice again, but he just lay there. Motionless.
Bobby walked into the office, finding John inside, but not John's hunting friend. "Didn't you say Richard was here?" Bobby asked, confused.
"He is, he went to the bathroom." John responded, looking through the books, panicked but not enough to stop him from hunting down the loophole that would allow them to cut the bloodline. "He went half an hour ago actually." John whispered, confused.
"I'll go make sure the idjit didn't get himself lost." Bobby offered, placing down the paper bags of food and walking out, he walked towards the location of the bathroom. Finding no sign of Richard, he went looking around the rest of the house, before coming into the living room. Bobby walked towards the curtain and pulled it back slightly. "Haven't seen Richard around have ya?" Bobby asked casually.
"No. Is he missing?" Dean asked.
"Can't seem to find him." Bobby murmured.
"I knew I couldn't trust him, one look and I knew that I didn't want him around Sammy. He's probably one of those hunters that're glad the Psychics are dead." Dean growled before standing up. He brushed a final hand through Sam's hair and whispered something in his ear before following Bobby.
"We should go get ya Dad. He'll help us look." Bobby stated.
"You sure he would? He seems to be engaged in finding the loophole." Dean asked.
"If Richard is who you think he is, then John bought this mess onto us. He's gonna help get rid of it." Bobby grumbled unhappily. Spending hours constantly up and researching was starting to tire him out. He was getting to old to continuously be worrying about his boys.
"John?" Bobby began, opening the door to the office. John looked up, frowning at the sight of Dean.
"Thought you were with Sam?" John asked, confused.
"I was. Until Bobby told me that your hunter friend Richard went walk-a-bouts. I told you not to trust him around Sam." Dean snapped.
"What? Okay, I get that he's different to us Winchesters, but he's not just gonna up and take Sammy." John spoke too soon, because the next thing they all heard was the sound of tires screeching along the dirt. Dean ran to the window, followed by John and Bobby. John's truck was being driven away from the Salvage Yard at incredible speed.
"What in the hell?" John snapped, feeling in his pockets. His keys were gone. "That bastard stole my keys." John snapped. Dean's eyes widened before he rushed into the living room. The sneaky bastard managed to open the curtains and take Sammy from under them.
"Sam!" Dean barked out, knowing it wouldn't do anything but secretly hoping that Sam was just inside somewhere. Yet, at the same time he grabbed the keys to the Impala and rushed outside. Stopping immediately once he saw the Impala. "Son of a bitch!" Dean roared, the tires had been slashed. "You trust him so much huh?!" Dean growled, shoving past his father before going to Bobby's phone. "What's the assholes number? I'm going to torture him for the Impala and tear his lungs out for stealing Sammy." Dean snapped.
Once the phone started ringing Dean managed to get some words out. "How the hell did he find the time to do all this and take Sammy?" Dean grumbled out.
"It was probably planned from the beginning." John whispered guiltily.
"You don't get to bloody talk. This is your fault. Don't you understand that he's sick! He can't defend himself if Richard decides to attack! Damn it! He won't pick up." Dean was going out of his mind with worry, before calling again. "Bobby, get your tracking shit put together. Soon as he answers you start tracking the mother-…" Dean was cut off.
"I understand. No need to use unnecessary language." Bobby sighed before logging onto his computer.
"Good afternoon…" Richard's voice greeted casually.
"Listen to me-…" Dean's growling threats were cut off immediately by a horrified shout.
"DEAN!" It was Sam, the pain in the ass had decided to wake up at the complete wrong time.
"Put my brother on the phone." Dean forgot all meaning to his threats, forgot that this man had kidnapped his little brother. He just wanted to hear Sammy speaking to him.
"What's going on Dean?" Sam snapped through the phone. "He's been saying things, Dean what did you do?" he sounded angry, but mostly he sounded terrified.
"I didn't do anything. Sammy listen to me, whatever Richard says-…" Dean was cut off.
"Howdy Dean. Your brother doesn't seem to remember much. Quite confused actually." Richard chuckled.
"What have you told him?" Dean snapped.
"I've told him the truth. He deserves to die for what happened Dean, so many people have died because of your brother, those Psychics were Azazel's creation, and there's just one more left to get rid of, without this last one then the generation can't continue." Richard informed. "And Sammy over here agrees with my theory." Richard commented.
"You do anything to my brother, and I swear I'll-…" Once again, Dean was cut off.
"You'll do what? Dean you won't even be able to find me. You may be able to track me now, but where I'm going, you'll never find your precious Sammy. Just leave this alone Dean, as soon as you saw Azazel dead you knew this was going to happen. You knew Sam wasn't going to survive. I'm just making it easier." Richard chuckled before hanging up the phone.
"Damn it! Bobby did you trace it?" Dean questioned, slamming the phone down and turning around to face Bobby.
"Yes. Sending co-ordinates to your phone now." Bobby stated before logging off the computer.
"I'm gonna go get Sam and kill this asshole. Bobby, I need to borrow your van out back. Someone needs to stay here and continue researching." Dean ordered, Bobby threw Dean the keys to the van that he kept out back, he knew how much Dean hated the van, but even Winchester's knew when it was time to bite the bullet and use whatever resources you have.
"I'll stay and continue looking, take the satellite phone, wherever he's going it won't have
cell service, use that." Bobby ordered, throwing the phone towards Dean as well.
"I'll go with ya." John stated, walking in with a duffle bag. He knew that right now, Dean had all authority over what happened with Sam. Especially being that he knew this was all his fault.
"Okay, call me if you get anything Bobby." Dean ordered before rushing off. They both got into Bobby's van and high-tailed towards the direction of the co-ordinates. They led to the entrance of a forest.
"If anything happens to Sam before we get to him… He was supposed to be getting better. He's gotta get better. Then you had to bring some different hunter that we didn't even know. Now he's gone." Dean ranted, he needed to get it out.
"I know Dean, and I'm sorry. I thought that with more hands we would be able to help him. I didn't know Richard was against the Psychic's." John sighed.
"All hunters are against the Psychic's Dad! We would be too if Sam wasn't one." Dean snapped.
"Don't take that tone with me Dean Winchester." John growled, Dean huffed in response. Of course, his Dad would be like this. Try and hide the errors he did wrong by snapping at everyone else around him.
"Sammy's gotta be okay." Dean whispered.
Sam felt terrible, everything hurt and if his memory kept fading like this he didn't know what he would remember. His memories were precious, and now he was just forgetting. He wanted to remember, even the simplest things he was forgetting. At times, he forgot who Dean was, just remembered hearing the name all the time. He can't remember who his mother is, the name Jess has no meaning anymore. It's all just falling apart.
"Why can't I remember anything? I don't even know who you are." Sam snapped, turning to the man driving the truck. He recognized the truck, knew he had seen it somewhere, the truck meant something to him. But he just couldn't remember. "I need to remember." Sam groaned, placing his hands on his head after it started pounding uncontrollably.
"It's okay Samuel, it'll all be over soon. I'm going to take care of it." The stranger sighed in a mocking tone that sent shivers down Sam's spine. He knew exactly what the stranger meant. And didn't want to take any part of it.
"I wanna get out. I don't wanna be here anymore." Sam told, reaching for the door. But the stranger had locked the door. "Who are you? Why won't you let me go?" Sam asked, turning to face him.
"We've been over this a thousand times. I get that you can't remember anything but try to keep up would you. My name is Richard and I'm going to take you somewhere secluded." Richard grumbled before stopping the car.
"Why do we need to be secluded?" Sam asked, not wanting to know the answer.
"Because I'm going to bloody kill you now would you please shut up. It's alright Sam, you want to die." Richard informed. Sam's eyes widened in fear. No, he didn't recall wanting to die. But what if he did want to die, he just didn't remember.
"I need to remember. I have to remember what happened." Sam snapped, grabbing the back of Richard's head and slamming it against the steering wheel. Instantly knocking him out. "But I can't have you trying to kill me." He growled before getting out of the car. Sam looked around, trying to gather his surroundings before being hit with a wave of indescribable pain in his abdomen. Kneeling over he began coughing up more blood then he would've liked to see.
"What's happening to me?" Sam murmured to himself before looking up, he saw a forest. It was something about the forest. Calling to him, but he didn't want to. Because he knew that if he walked inside the forest he wasn't coming out, he was going to die today. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Limping his way over, Sam began his walk into the forest. Remembering how ready he was to die.
After a while of walking Sam had collapsed, looking up at the sky and seeing the grey clouds, it was going to rain. But he couldn't care less. A name kept nagging him, and he so badly wanted to remember what the name meant to him.
"Dean." Sam whispered casually, the name rolling off his tongue so easily, he knew he could trust the owner of the name, he knew he loved the owner of the name. But he just couldn't remember the owner of the name. "Who are you Dean?" Sam whispered, closing his eyes gently and soon falling asleep.
"Sammy!" he heard a voice shout from a distance, opening his eyes wearily, everything was blurry. He could barely breathe. Sammy? What a funny name? It started to come back to him in pieces. He was Sammy. But who was the owner of the voice? Then the name came back to him… Dean. Was this the Dean that Sam couldn't remember.
He tried to get up, tried to move. But couldn't. He was leant up against a tree, paralysed. He could barely hear through the ringing in his ears, could barely see past the blurriness. He felt a cough erupt through his chest. Spilling a wet substance on his chin, but he couldn't move his hands to clean it off. Could barely speak to call out for the voice that seemed to know his name.
"Sammy! Where are you!?" Sam so badly wanted to call out… 'I'm right here!' But he couldn't move his jaw. Or maybe he was moving, but felt so numb that he just couldn't feel it. Maybe he was screaming, but the ringing in his ears wouldn't allow him to hear it. He kept hearing it. The voice calling out his name. But another soon added, a deeper voice, calling for him. He had no clue who the voice belonged too. But remembered another name once he heard it. John.
Soon he was greeted by two figures in the distance, he could tell that they hadn't seen him yet. But he caught sight of them straight away.
"Sammy!" the younger man called before the older one hit him in the shoulder. They both looked towards Sam, who was happy that the two strangers had seen him. He would get out of here, at least he hoped he would. Maybe he would be sent to a hospital, they would ring his family. Then he remembered that he couldn't remember who his family even was, or if they were still alive. Just the names Dean and John.
"Sam!" the younger one barked out, rushing to Sam's side and placing a hand on Sam's forehead. "Dad he's burning up, there's blood everywhere." Why was there blood everywhere? How had that gotten there? Why was Sam burning up? Was he sick or something? So many questions that he couldn't even ask mattered his mind. He tried to come up with the answers on his own but nothing came up. He just couldn't remember, then he spoke. One word, or if you could even call it that.
"R'm'ber." Sam croaked, coughing more than he had before, more of the wet substance was on his chin, he could tell. Was it blood? Is that where the blood had come from? Him coughing it up constantly? But why hadn't the blood wanted to stay inside his body? Why was it escaping him like his memory? He needed to remember. But he just couldn't.
"He doesn't remember." The older man whispered in shock. The younger man's eyes widened in terror.
"Sammy look at me." He ordered, Sam tried to move, but couldn't. So, the man got in his vision. "Do you remember me? Come on Sam give me something… come back to me little brother." He ordered. Sam remembered, but not much. He remembered Dean, and John. He remembered Bobby and the past few days. He remembered everything post Azazel's murder. But everything else was gone to him.
"De'n…" Sam stumbled over his words, his breathing shaky. "Die." Was all he managed to get out before coughing again.
"No, you're not going to die, Bobby is finding a loophole for this right now." John stated, stepping back a little bit. Sam couldn't say anything, he didn't have the strength too. He noticed Dean sit down, moving both himself and Sam so Dean was sitting behind Sam and Sam was leaning up against him. He knew the gesture was to comfort them both, but Sam kinda just wanted to die alone.
"Be… 'lone." Sam whispered.
"No Sammy. You're not gonna be alone. I'm not going to leave you alone. Bobby is gonna fix this. I know he is. You're not going to die." But Dean sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than he was trying to reassure Sam. It worked, to some degree. But every Winchester knew a dead man when they saw one.
"How am I supposed to fix this? How am I supposed to keep you alive Sam? What am I supposed to do?" Dean growled, trying not to cry.
"Live…" Sam sighed out, a word that he could speak without screwing up. Mostly because it was an easy word, but that wasn't the point.
"Nope. No can do little brother, can't do this without ya. You know that." Dean informed.
"Dean…" John whispered shocked, yet sadly. He knew that this is exactly what would happen if Sam was to die, Dean would follow. And vise-versa. Basically meaning none of his sons could die, which John was cool with.
"No, we all know that as soon as Sam dies I'm gonna go with him. We've all guessed it already, we all know it's gonna happen. So how about Sam just doesn't die, and then Dad won't have to burn two bodies." Dean told.
"And what makes you think that I'm going anywhere without knowing you two are safe and alive." John snapped.
"You were always stronger than us Dad." Dean sighed.
"That's where you're wrong kiddo. You and Sammy, you both were always stronger than me. I let this take over my life, but the two of you, you didn't. You hung onto each other and you didn't let you, you found the courage to do what you believed in and not give a damn what anyone else thought." John stated with a sad smile towards Sam. There was a sudden shrilling ring from John's pocket, and it made Sam's ears feel like they were bleeding. He groaned in pain and tried to move. But he couldn't. He was still paralyzed.
"St'p…" Sam ordered, trying to move.
"It's okay little brother. Calm down, Dad make it stop." Dean ordered, glancing at the satellite phone from John's pocket. John answered the phone immediately once realizing it was Bobby.
"How's Sam?" Bobby asked. John stood up and walked away, not wanting his sons to hear what he had to say.
"I don't think he has long left Bobby." John whispered his response. Tears in his eyes, Bobby immediately knew how dire the situation was.
"Get him to hang in there, I've found a way to cut the bloodline. I had to get help from an old friend of mine. She's a sheriff. But she knows what we do. We found a way to cut it. I've just gotta get a few herbs that I have around the house and do the spell. I've already gotten started, should be done soon. Keep Sam alive and I'll call when it's done." Bobby ordered before hanging up, immediately getting to work with Sheriff Jody Mills on severing the bloodline.
"Bobby's working on the bloodline now. He found a loophole." John exclaimed, a wide smile present on his face.
"You hear that Sammy." Dean cheered. "Bobby's gonna make you all better, you've just gotta hang in there okay?" he added. But as they both looked down at Sam. Sam was unconscious, and a deadly pale.
"Sammy." John tried, kneeling and placing a hand on Sam's knee.
"No. No, no, no, no." Dean repeated over and over, shaking Sam slightly to try and get something out of him. But he was just dead weight. "We've gotta get him to Bobby's. He'll be able to figure it out. We can't have been too late, Bobby just found the cure." Dean snapped. John threw Dean the keys to the truck that he had taken from Richard's unconscious body earlier before.
"You take the truck, it's a heck of a lot faster than the van. I'll bring the van back with Richard." John ordered before helping Dean lift Sam and take him to the truck. Placing Sam in the passenger seat before Dean got into the driver's seat.
"You be careful. And keep him alive." John ordered, Dean nodded in return, taking the satellite phone from John before speeding off with the truck. Not caring about breaking any of the speed limits, he just needed his little brother to stay alive.
Mid-way through the drive Dean got a phone call from his own phone. Picking up he saw it was Bobby calling. "What?" he grumbled.
"Don't talk to me like that boy." Bobby snapped, clearly tired and excited for it to be over and for Sam to be okay.
"Sorry, it's just… Sammy's not looking too good." Dean whispered, not stopping the tears from falling this time.
"Well don't worry about that now kid. The bloodline should be finished with." Bobby stated. A wide smile grew on Dean's face.
"So, Sammy should be fine." Dean yipped happily, looking towards Sam who was already starting to show signs of waking up. "This is finally over." Dean huffed happily.
"I'll call your Dad. You get both your ass's here now." Bobby ordered.
"Yes sir." Dean happily obliged before hanging up the phone.
Day 3
"How ya feeling kiddo?" Dean asked, coming up from the basement, whipping his hands on his shirt. Sam noticed the drop of blood, but didn't say anything.
"I'm feeling better, still a little ill. But so much better than I was before, you haven't actually told me what's down in the basement yet?" Sam questioned. Clearly not remembering that Dean would rip the lungs out of anyone who double crossed Sam.
"Because that's for me to know and for you to remain a mystery." Dean winked with a smile, happy his brother was alive before plonking himself on the couch next to Sam's bed that was still in the living room.
"Why can't you just tell me? You're in there for hours and you always come back with blood on you." Sam huffed out.
"You're my brother… any I love you. But some things I just have to keep to myself." Dean smirked, repeating the same line he remembered Sam using when they were on the Bloody Mary case.
John stood in the doorway, a grin on his face. Happy to see his sons bickering once more. But the grin disappeared, when he remembered the backstabbing hunter in the basement.