A/N: Thanks for your reviews, I loved every one of them:-) Also cheers to my beta who managed it in record time.

Brother's Role

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 7

An evil pair of eyes watched as the car hit the boy, throwing his body to the side of the road, closer to the unseen spectator. He was about to reach out and grab the boy, but the shriek of the brakes and the hurried steps approaching prevented him from it. The ghost retreated behind the bushes, watching. It wasn't as if these people could harm him, but there were three of them and he didn't want to be seen. It was still raining lightly and even though the storm was far away, the ghost still jerked when the thunder clashed in the distance.

''My God, Peter, it's just a kid!'' the older woman who was now kneeling next to Dean cried out, horrified. Her husband took one look at the scene and sent his son into the car, for his cell phone.

''Is he alive?'' The boy asked as he handed the cell to his father and nervously looked around. He thought it weird to see a kid alone in such weather and so far from the town.

''Yeah, but we'll need to get him into hospital. My god, Pete – what was he doing here?''

''I don't know Jill,'' Peter shook his head, and concentrated on the voice on the cell, giving out details of their location.

The ghost waited and watched. He knew the boy would be taken away from him, but that was okay. He knew that if Dean survived, he'd feel impelled to return. If he somehow managed to resist the compulsion, well then the spectre would find someone else. When the first sirens of the ambulance could be heard, the ghost turned and vanished in the forest, leaving the chaos behind.

Despite what anybody would think, it wasn't the pain or prodding that woke him, it was the coldness seeping through his clothes, numbing his skin and stabbing at his bones. When someone threw a blanket over him he started shivering. At first the shivers were small, but as his body tried to greedily seek the warmth, they became more violent.

Teeth chattering, Dean tried to curl up into a fetal position to keep warm, but before he could even manage to pull his knees closer, he felt the stab of pain in his side. Like an awakening monster, pain suddenly roared into being, and Dean couldn't help but groan with the nearly overwhelming sensations.

''Hey kid, you waking up?'' he heard a voice closer than he would've liked, then felt the hand on his face.

Dean slowly opened his eyes. Blinking, he tried to concentrate on the figure looming over him. It was a man not much older than Sam; the only difference was the light hair and the glasses. He didn't look threatening, but the only thing Dean could think of was that this wasn't his brother. Frowning, he batted away the hand that was now trying to keep his head still while flashing a penlight into his eyes.

''Hey, it's okay. Everything will be fine, just stay put. Can you tell me your name?'' the man asked, his voice soothing.

Dean didn't reply. He looked around, for the first time realising that it wasn't only his vision that was swimming, but that they were really moving. Taking in his surroundings, Dean knew he was in the ambulance. What troubled him was the fact that Sam wasn't there with him. Trying to think about what had happened that ended up with him in an ambulance, Dean closed his eyes. Maybe if he couldn't see everything moving in crazy gyrations, the dizziness would go away.

''Come on kid, stay awake,'' the man coaxed him and Dean's eyes snapped open, annoyed by the nickname. He was older than this guy, so why the hell was he being patronized?

''Stop calling me 'kid','' he growled and shot the man one of his warning glares that could shut Sam up for an hour. But somehow it didn't work now because the man flashed him a smile.

''Geez, you can talk. Maybe if you'd told me your name I wouldn't have to call you kid.'' Dean frowned, still silent. He had a nagging feeling that there was something important he didn't remember and it was giving him a rather bad headache. At least he hoped that was why his head hurt.

''Look kid, if you won't tell me your name, what about telling me what hurts so I can help?'' the question was genuine but Dean had to concentrate on that little thing nagging in the back of his mind. Something about being a kid... and then something clicked and Dean's mind was suddenly full of the things that had happened in the last day, up until the moment he saw the lights of the car.

''Sammy!'' he called out and sat up, or at least tried to. The pain in his side along with a pair of restraining hands sent him back to the stretcher. ''No, let me go! You don't understand, my brother is in danger! He's still in the forest! I need to help him,'' the last was uttered more like a plea as Dean realised that he couldn't go anywhere. Not with the stabbing pain in his side, or with the medic keeping him down. Dean let out a frustrated cry and stopped struggling.

He needed to find Sam. And he needed to do it before Hannings did. But short of pointing a gun at the driver, there was no way to get out of the ambulance. For the first time in his life, Dean didn't have his gun: nor his cell phone or his wallet.

Blinking, Dean would've slapped himself if he hadn't already been hurting.

''You have to call my brother. Please. He needs to know where I am so he can come and get me. You have to call him,'' Dean pleaded and hated himself for sounding so whining but he couldn't help it. If Sam knew where he was, he would leave the forest and come after him. He would be safe.

''Okay, okay, we will call him, just relax. How old is your brother?'' Dean blinked, puzzled by the question. Why was it important how old Sam was? But then it hit him what he said.

''He's twenty-two. But there's something in the forest... some animal... it was chasing me and I got lost, but now it can go after Sammy... you have to call him!'' Dean insisted, breathing faster than his ribs would like and judging by the scowl on the medic's face, a little faster than he liked too.

''Can you give me his number?'' Dean opened his mouth, then frowned. He should've known the number, he was sure, but he was getting fuzzy, and the numbers kept mixing up. He felt the panic grow. ''I-I don't... it's all mixed up,'' he muttered looking at the medic with fear. The man just nodded and shot him another calming smile.

''That's okay, you'll tell us later. Just try to relax, we will take care of everything.''

''No, you don't understand,'' Dean started struggling again, needing to get away, to find Sammy. He didn't have time for this. But as he raised his head, the world spun and he found himself back on the stretcher, fighting off the wave of nausea and panting for breath. He could see the medic watching him with concern, his mouth moving but no sound leaving his lips. Dean thought he saw him speaking into the microphone, but when he blinked, the medic was already by the foot of the stretcher and opening the door. Dean didn't care. Suddenly he felt too tired to even keep his eyes open. Never before was the idea of sleep so inviting.

''Dean?'' Sam asked with a hope that was almost instantly gone, when a feminine voice spoke from the phone instead of his brother's.

''Mr. Sam?'' the woman asked, almost tentatively. Sam frowned at the weird title.

''Yes. Who's calling?''

''My name's Gail Monroe. I am working in the County hospital in Pendelton. There was a car accident on the road to Crystle town. A young boy was brought in. He regained consciousness a while ago but wasn't able to give us his name. He just kept insisting that his brother might be in danger and that he needs to leave. The boy was quite confused, but he finally managed to give us your number. So do you have a younger brother, Mr Sam?'' Gail said it in one rush, so she finished before Sam could even open his mouth to ask about the car accident. In truth, the only thing Sam could think of was the fact that his brother was alive and hopefully safe.

''Mr Sam, are you still there?'' Gail asked and her tone indicated that she wasn't asking the first time.

''Is he okay?'' Sam blurted out, nervous to hear the answer. Just what had happened to Dean in these last couple of hours?

''Yes, he will be. I am sorry, but until you come here I can't give you the details, Mr -?'' Gail asked, clearly wanting his correct name.

''Adams,'' Sam quickly supplied the name he had used in the motel. ''Samuel Adams. My brother is Dean. So, um, ... can you give me some directions to the hospital?'' Sam listened as the woman on the other end of the phone call gave him the address, and he realised it was the same hospital the previous victims were taken to. Probably because it was the only hospital in the vicinity, Sam thought bitterly.

''Can you just tell Dean that I am on my way?'' he asked before Gail could hang up on him.

''Yes, of course. He will be relieved.''

''Thanks,'' Sam said, even though Gail had already ended the call. He let out a relieved sigh, still feeling the tension, but the panic was gone. Of course he still needed to get out of the forest and find the car.

The storm was gone and as the sun started to shine through the leaves of the trees, his hair started to dry, although his clothes still clung heavily to him. Looking around, Sam realised he was still standing at the clearing where it had all started. Shaking his head, he started out the way he remembered they had come from the first time.

He saw the Impala, the black hood glittering from the rain but otherwise undamaged. Sam smiled and took a step closer when something warned him of company. It could've been nothing. Or everything. Sam tensed and took another step forward. Something behind him moved.

Stopping to take in a breath, Sam slowly turned his head and froze. A mere few yards from him stood the ghost of the man who had taken Dean, but this time Sam recognized him as Joe Hannings.

''What do you want?'' he asked, feeling proud that his voice didn't shake. Hannings just smiled, pointing his fingers at Sam's chest.

The young hunter didn't have time to react as he was thrown against one of the trees. He slid down to the ground and gasped, trying to catch his breath. The figure started to come closer, but then it stopped, a confused look on it's face. Sam watched as Hannings jumped back, as if burned. He frowned, then realised that there was a white line of salt on the ground. He didn't know who put it there, but he had a feeling that maybe Susan Stockhart had had a hand in it.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sam got up and as fast as he could, ran towards the car. Wrenching open the door and flinging himself into the driver's seat, he started up the Impala and planted his foot on the gas heavily, the wheels spinning and digging into the ground before gaining traction and propelling the car forward. The open car door slammed shut as he hurtled away from the ghastly apparition. Sam didn't look into the side mirror, so he didn't see the satisfied smile on Hannings' face.

''You'll bring him to me'' the ghost declared, as the Impala sped up and disappeared down the road in a spray of mud.

TO BE CONTINUED

There arestill few more chapters to write and reviews would help me greatly hint, hint