Chapter 12: I Love You
Author's Note: I can't believe that just a few days ago I was excited to break 100. The fact that I'm well past 200 and counting doesn't even seem real to me. Sorry if I ticked you guys off with that cliff hanger, but you have to admit, it was a darn good cliff hanger if I do say so myself! ;-)
Enjoy the next installment, and thanks for all the Happy Thanksgiving wishes sent my way.
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Sam's body literally contorted in on itself as the frigid water made contact with his skin. His flesh burned from an icy fire. He struggled to right himself and get his head above water but his limbs weren't being very cooperative.
Finally, he found his sense of direction and raised his head above the surface. He found that he could actually stand in place and keep his head above water. He looked up and saw Dean standing on the ice looking down at him. Dean's eyes glowed red and Sam struggled not to scream at the horrible image before him.
"Beg for your life and perhaps I will spare you," Dean said.
Sam knew it was a lie. He had seen in his visions the death of little Danny and his brother Tom. Sam was going to die. He was going to freeze to death in this lake. Already his lips were turning blue and his body was being racked by tremors and shakes in an attempt to warm itself.
"D…Dean…I…lo…love…you," Sam ground out through teeth chattering so hard that they had almost locked in place. If he was going to die he was going to use his last few minutes to tell Dean what he had wanted to tell him for years, but Winchester pride never allowed it. Even thought the thing was controlling Dean's body he knew Dean was in there and could hear him. "I…lo…love…you…bro…ther."
"NO!" Dean voice yelled. "Yell! Beg for your life!"
"No…I…wi…will…die…for…h…him."
Dean felt the monster in him losing control. Of course, it fed off the rage, the fear, but Sam wasn't feeding it. Sam was denying it. Dean began to chant in his head over and over, 'I love you, Sammy. I love you, Sammy."
'No, stop it you fool. Stop it.'
'I love you, Sammy. I love you, Sammy.'
Dean gasped when he realized he could move his body. He was in control.
"Sam!" Dean cried and dropped to his knees. Sam was just about to surrender and slip under the water when Dean grabbed the back of his shirt and with strength he never even knew he possessed he pulled Sam from the water in one swift motion and was dragging him back to the shore.
"Sammy! Sammy, wake up," Dean ordered. Dean was scared. Sam's body was jerking and he was so blue. Hypothermia would be setting in any second if it wasn't already.
Dean removed his heavy coat and wrapped it around Sam. He then put his hat on top of Sam's wet hair to protect him from the wind.
"Sammy, I need your help, little brother." Dean struggled to slide Sam's arms into the sleeves of the coat and then get it zipped. Dean pulled his brother in a hug and held him tight. "Sam, wake up," Dean cried.
"D…Dean," Sam mumbled. "Cold…so cold."
"I know you are but you have to help me." Sam was still unresponsive. His head rolled to the side. Dean was getting frustrated. Sam's body was shutting down. Dean looked up at the lighthouse and there, up by the railings was Caleb. Caleb was actually waving at him.
Dean felt a tingling sensation going up his scalp, almost like a rubber band rolling up the back of his head. Then his head began to ache once more. It was trying to reclaim control. 'Oh god, give me strength,' Dean prayed. He suddenly knew what he had to do.
Dean began to slap at Sam's face. "Sam! SAM! Wake up! Now!" He gave Sam another hard slap.
Sam's eyes popped open with a start.
"That's it. Come on, Sam, you have to get up," Dean told him.
"Dean?" Sam asked.
"Sam, get up off your ass and help me!" Dean demanded harshly.
Sam's brows knitted together and Dean could see he was trying to find the energy in him to help Dean. Guilt could be a great motivating factor. Sam would do anything not to let Dean down.
"Sam, I need you to run to Caleb," Dean told him. "Do it now. Go to Caleb." Dean hoped Sam understood what Dean was telling him. He didn't want to say to much more for fear of giving his plan away to the bastard trying to kill them.
"Come with me," Sam said.
"I'll be there soon," Dean replied and gave Sam a wink. "Now go, go as fast as you can."
Sam stood up with help from Dean and began to move. He knew Dean wanted him to run, but he couldn't. He was so cold. Some parts of his body were completely numb, others burned with a white hot intensity that threatened to overwhelm his senses.
Moving at least made his blood circulate and after a bit he was able to move a little quicker, but if that thing suddenly possessed Dean again it would overtake Sam easily enough.
Dean stayed by the water trying to make sure Sam had enough time. He prayed Sam would actually make it back to the lighthouse and not collapse half way there. He watched the minute hand on his watch go around and around. God he was cold, but at least he was dry. Sam was soaking wet and had no shoes on. He knew that even if he managed to save Sammy he still might die from exposure if he couldn't get him warmed up soon enough.
Finally, it had been fifteen minutes. Fifteen long and agonizing minutes. Dean looked up to the sky and shouted.
"Hey, you want me? Well here I am. Come get me you bastard. You think your so big and tuff. Well, fuck you. You didn't get Sam. I saved him. You weren't strong enough to take us. We beat you."
For the second time that day Dean found himself being hit by a mighty force. He hit the ground as the entity forced its way back into his head.
'You haven't won yet. You and your brother are trapped here. You have no where to go.'
'Wanna bet! I'm going to go get Sam and get him into some warm clothes and then we are going to walk the hell out of here.'
'No you won't!'
"Ahhhh," Dean screamed from the agony caused by having his mind and body once more taken over. He hoped Caleb knew what the hell he was talking about because Dean had done what he was told. He had surrendered to it.
'Now, let's go find your brother.'
They marched back towards the house at a quick pace, following the tracks Sam had made.
'Did you really think I would lose?' it asked.
'I think Sam is going to kick your ass,' Dean replied.
'Your brother will be lucky to still be alive once we reach the house. I can feel his life force slipping from him even now. He is weak. He is dying. He is afraid.'
'No, Sam will be all right,' Dean insisted.
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Sam let out a sob of relief when the house came into view. He was almost there. So close. The house would be warm. He just had to walk a little bit farther, but oh god it was so hard. The snow was so deep and his body hurt everywhere.
Sam made it to the driveway. Since it was clear of snow it made it easier for him to move. He followed the clear path to the back of the house and stumbled into the kitchen and fell to the floor. He was so tired. His body was begging to go to sleep but he knew if he did that he would die. He needed to keep his limbs moving, needed to keep the blood circulating, or else he would go into shock or succumb to hypothermia.
He closed the kitchen door and pulled himself to a crawling position. He used a chair at the kitchen table as a crutch to pull himself into a standing position. With a great amount of effort he walked to the wooden door that opened to the light house.
He looked at the stairs and almost wept. In his condition climbing those stairs would be like climbing Mount Everest.
"You…have…to do…it," Sam told himself. "Dean is…counting…on you." Like a dog walking on all fours Sam began to make his way towards the top.
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Dean's body was quickly closing the gap between him and Sam. The monster inside of him wanted Sam. It was personal at this point. Sam was the first person to ever find his weakness. The boy had to die if for no other reason.
'When I get to your brother I will tear him apart. I will cut his limbs from his body. I will bash his skull in so that his face will no longer be recognizable.'
'You're welcome to try,' Dean said calmly, trying desperately to control his temper. Sam had showed him the secret to fighting this thing. It fed off the anger, the sorrow, and the pain. Dean needed to stay just angry enough so that it thought it was in charge, but he knew the secret to throwing it out of his body any time he wanted to. All he had to do was think about how much he loved his baby brother, how important Sam was to him, and he could get his body back and be in control. This thing would never hurt Sam again.
But, Dean needed to do more than kick it out of his body. He needed to kill it for good, and he was pretty sure he knew how to do that. Dean said a silent prayer when he saw the house come into view and realized that they hadn't come across Sam along the way. Sam had made it to the house.
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Sam was over half way to the top of the stairs. He was still walking on all fours pulling him self along. He mind was wandering and it almost felt as if he weren't actually in his body anymore, like he was watching himself through one of his dreams or visions.
Sam jolted when he heard the door downstairs get kicked in. Dean, or the thing inside of Dean, was here. Sam didn't know what to do. He was in no condition to fight. He was moving on pure adrenaline because Dean needed him to move, but even that was dwindling away.
"OH SAMMY!" a twisted version of Dean's smooth voice drifted up to his ears.
"Dean," Sam whispered.
"Lure it to the lighthouse."
Sam looked up and saw Caleb standing at the top of the stairs.
"Lure it to the lighthouse," he repeated.
Sam nodded and called out. "Dean! Dean, help me!"
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In the kitchen the monster stopped.
"Dean! Dean, help me!"
"Fool," it laughed.
'Leave him alone,' Dean shouted in fake anger. He needed this thing to take the bait.
"Dean, please!"
It walked over to the doorway that led to the light house. Green eyes looked inside and saw there, on the stairs, was a haggard looking young man struggling to make it to the top. He swayed precariously as he climbed.
For the first time it began to sense something was amiss. It hesitated at the door and waited.
'Ha! You can't get him!' Dean laughed. 'He's safe. You're too chicken!'
'He can not stay up there forever. There is no heat, no food, and no water. He will die, or he will come down, and then he will die.'
'Sam will never come down,' Dean spat. 'He would rather simply go to sleep up there and die peacefully than come down here so you can torture him. You lost. He escaped you.'
"NO!"
It took a tentative step inside and then stopped once more.
Dean knew this was his chance. He needed to get control, but at the same time not throw it out of his body completely.
'Sammy, I will always protect you,' Dean thought. 'I am so lucky to have a brother like you. You're the best.'
"Shut up, human."
Dean knew it was working. It was a tug of war, but he could move with a great deal of effort. Dean reached back and pulled the door to the lighthouse closed, sealing all three of them inside.
'No.'
Dean felt it trying to flee and now he was actually making an effort to not let it escape.
"You're not going anywhere!" Dean insisted. He took off running up the stairs.
Sam had just cleared the top when he heard Dean's feet pounding up the stairs behind him. He dropped to the floor and lay there. He couldn't go any farther. His body was spent. He could feel his heart beating slower and slower. He was having difficulty drawing a breath into his lungs. His limbs no longer responded to his commands. He was slipping away and there was nothing he could do about it.
Dean charged up the stairs as fast as he could before it managed to break the connection between them. Dean cried out from the pain in his head.
'You can not hurt me,' it said. 'I am eternal.'
Dean didn't reply. He just kept climbing. He felt something running down his face and he realized his nose was bleeding from the pressure building in his head.
Dean made it to the top and gasped when he saw Sam passed out on the floor looking, for all intentions and purposes, very much dead.
'You couldn't save him,' it said. 'You failed. Now you will suffer for the rest of your days seeing the dead face of your brother.'
'Sammy,' Dean screamed. 'Sammy!'
A blinding light appeared in the light house, and it wasn't coming from the lantern. Dean shielded his eyes until it passed. When he looked again he saw dozens of people…spirits…standing in the lighthouse. He understood immediately. These were the spirits of the people it had murdered, manipulated, and destroyed.
Dean scanned the crowd. There were men, women, and even children, but Sam wasn't standing with the other spirits. For a moment no one moved, but then the spirits began to close in around Dean.
"Stay away," his voice suddenly called. "Stay back. You are nothing."
Dean felt himself grabbed and pulled and tugged. Hands clawed at him and he had to admit, he was afraid. Caleb was now standing before him. Caleb reached his hand into Dean's chest and grabbed hold.
"AHHHHH!" Dean screamed. He watched in revulsion as Caleb pulled a black mass from his body and held it in his hand. Dean was allowed to fall to the floor and the spirits now ignored him completely and focused all their attention on the black mass that was squirming wildly in Caleb's hands. Each spirit there began to grab at the mass and pull at it, tearing pieces of it off.
The mass thrashed in pain. Dean watched as little by little the spirits tore it to pieces and then another blinding light flashed inside the lighthouse. The next time Dean opened his eyes the spirits of the dead and the evil thing itself were all gone except for Caleb.
"Thank you," Caleb said. "It is over now." Then his spirit slowly faded from view and all was quiet.
Dean stared at the vacant spot for a moment before turning back to his brother.
"Sam! Sammy?" Dean crawled next to Sam and rolled his brother over gently. Sam was so cold to the touch and his lips were blue. Dean unzipped the coat and put his ear to Sam's chest and listened.
There! It was there! Sam's heart was still beating. Dean watched and could see that Sam was pulling in the shallowest of breaths. He's not dead. He's not dead! But he would be soon if he didn't get him warmed up and fast.
For the second time that day Dean pulled Sam into a fireman's carry. He had to walk down the stairs backwards, almost like climbing down a ladder because Sam's added weight through off his center of balance.
He made it to the kitchen and then moved as fast as he could for someone carrying an additional hundred and sixty pounds or so.
He climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom. As gently as possible he lowered Sam into the tub. He turned on the tap and found a nice and hot temperature. Then he turned on the shower. Hot water began to cascade down on him and Sam. He climbed into the shower too so he could pull off the parka and hat Sam was wrapped up in. Then he took off Sam's freezing cold t-shirt and sweatpants. Dean set the plug in the tub and the hot water collected in the bottom.
"Sam," Dean called as he rubbed furiously at Sam's arms and legs trying to get the circulation moving once more. "Sam, wake up."
Sam didn't give any response that he even knew that Dean was there. His eyes remained closed and he was as limp as a rag doll. Soon the bathroom was full of steam as the hot water continued to rain down on them and raise up higher on the sides of the tub.
Dean put his ear to Sam's chest once more and listened to his brother's heart beat. It was now beating very quickly, almost too quickly Dean noticed.
"Sammy! Please, damn it, open your eyes."
Finally Sam parted his eye lids. He was clearly disoriented and he couldn't focus.
Dean hadn't been ready when Sam screamed out and started thrashing his arms and legs.
"Sammy? What's wrong?"
"AHHH!" Sam cried. He was clawing at his own skin and Dean grabbed his wrists to stop him from hurting himself. "It hurts!" Sam screamed. "It burns! Dean, make it stop! Oh God!"
Dean realized that Sammy was having the sensation return to his limbs and skin. He watched helplessly as Sam continued to cry out in agony.
"Sammy, it will pass, but right now there's nothing to do."
Sam continued to thrash, tears poured down his cheeks and mixed with the water from the shower.
Dean couldn't stand it. He didn't even know what he was doing but he had to do something. He grabbed Sam by the chin and forced his brother to look at him.
"Sam, breathe, okay, breathe. Come on, he, he, he, hoo, hoo, hoo."
Sam stared at him with wide eyes that clearly spoke the words, 'you're crazy' but he did as Dean directed and he copied the breathing pattern Dean had started. It didn't make the pain go away, but it served as a distraction. For the next thirty minutes the two never broke eye contact and continued with their bizarre Lamaze exercise until they were both feeling light headed and faint.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain Sam was feeling began to subside. His body had stopped spasming but his muscles still felt tight and stiff.
The tub of water was no longer hot but warm. Dean finally stood up in the tub. He had been squatting the entire time and his knees were about to break. He pulled off his wet shirt and pants.
"Can I just say this is really twisted," Sam whispered through a horse throat. He and his brother were in the tub together both in their boxers. "I think I may be scared for life from this one."
"Better to be scarred than dead," Dean said. "How's the pain?"
"It's almost gone," Sam said. "I'm just tingling in a few places now."
"Good." Dean replied and stepped out of the tub. He yanked off his wet socks and threw them on top of all the other wet clothes. He grabbed a towel and began to dry off.
"Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?" Dean asked. "I need to get some clothes for both of us."
"I'll be fine," Sam replied as he closed his eyes.
"Hey, don't fall asleep!" Dean told him. "Open your eyes." Dean didn't just save him from freezing to death only to have him drown in the tub.
He hurried across the hall and went in their room. He pulled on the sweats he had slept in last night and then a t-shirt. Once he pulled on some socks he started looking for some clothes for Sam. He grabbed several items and went back to the bathroom.
As he expected, Sam was asleep in the tub. Dean reached in and pulled the plug to drain the water. He used a towel to dry his brother's hair and face.
"Sam, I need some help here," Dean told him.
Sam blinked and pulled himself into a sitting position. He groaned from the effort and gladly accepted Dean's help to stand. Even though he was no longer in excruciating pain his limbs were basically useless. He sat on the toilet lid with a thump and Dean proceeded to dry him off before pulling his dry clothes on him.
"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked.
"Of course I'm okay," Dean said. "You're the one who almost froze to death, remember."
"I'm not talking about that," Sam said. "I mean, when it possessed you, are you okay?"
"Dude, I'm fine. With all due respect I just took a shower with my brother and breathed like a woman about to have a baby for the past half hour. Really, I'm so NOT in the mood to go all emotional now. If this chick flick moment continues for much longer I'm likely to grow a set of tits or something.
Sam couldn't help but smile. Dean was fine. He was still Dean and that was perfect. Dean hoisted Sam up and dragged him to the bedroom. He stopped at the door when he saw the 8 ball lying in the floor. He felt Sam stiffen next to him. Memories and actions flooded both their minds.
Dean cleared his throat and then helped Sam to his bed and laid him down. Then Dean bent down, picked up the 8 ball, opened the window, and pitched it outside. He slammed the window down and went to the fireplace to relight the fire. The room was chilly and Sam was already sick. Dean actually feared how sick Sam would get after the shock his body had just been put threw. Honestly, it was a miracle Sam was still alive. His baby brother had more lives than a cat if you started counting all the close calls he had had.
Soon the fire was blazing and Dean stood up and walked back to Sam. He was asleep. He looked like hell. Dark circles were under his eyes and his lips were chapped and raw. His skin had a gray tinge to it. A harsh wheezing sound could be heard with every breath Sam took.
Sam needed a doctor. He needed medicine. Hell, he probably needed to spend a week in a hospital, but Dean didn't have a way to get Sam any of those things. The radio was gone, the snow mobiles were gone, and if Dean set out walking he would freeze to death out there long before he managed to get Sam any help.
He remembered that that girl, Tina, lived a half a mile away, but a half a mile in three feet or more of snow was really far, and even worse, he didn't know which direction to go. He could start walking only to find he went the wrong way and then have to turn back.
Dean wasn't afraid to die, but he had to think about Sam. If he got lost or froze out there, it would be a death sentence for Sam too. Sam was in no condition to take care of him self.
Dean realized it would be up to him.