A/N: Thanks for the great reviews and sorry for the late update. Hope you'll enjoy this chapter all the same;-) Thenks to Andrea too, for a really quick beta.

Supernatural

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 9

Dean didn't know what he hated more. Being cooped up in the hospital bed while his brother was out there 'investigating' and trying to find as much info as he could in the limited time they had, or waiting for Sammy to return. After five hours of doing both, Dean decided it didn't matter, because there was no way he intended to repeat the experience anytime soon.

At least now he knew where Sam was, or at least where he was headed some three hours ago, when Dean finally convinced him that finding out what happened to Hanning's son, if he indeed had had one, was far more important than keeping Dean company. Because Sam couldn't with one hundred percent certainty tell who the boy from his vision was, there was still a chance that there was someone else in danger. They couldn't afford to be losing time just because Sam suddenly felt the need to play Dean's keeper. Dean was starting to get nervous as he watched the clock on the wall, the time nearing for the doctor's rounds. He wanted Sam to be there with him, so he could convince the doctor to release him. But if Sam was nowhere to be seen, Dean sure didn't have a snowball's chance in hell to be released today. Gritting his teeth, he plastered one of his best smiles on his face when the doors opened, only to let it turn into a real one.

''Thank God you made it in time. I was worried you were gonna leave me here just so you wouldn't have to put up with me.''

Sam rolled his eyes and took a step aside to let the doctor in. Dean frowned, casting a suspicious look at his brother, before meeting the doctor's eyes.

''Hey Doc, I think I'm ready to go.''

''Aren't you the impatient one?'' the doctor laughed as he studied his chart.

''You can't imagine,'' Sam quipped, quirking his eyebrow at Dean's scowl.

''Well, we should take a look at how your memory is doing right now,'' the doctor mumbled and Dean spent the next few minutes trying to answer all the questions to the physician's liking. He hesitated at his birth date, almost saying the 'right' year, which would make him just a little too old right now. But he managed and after some probing, he was once again back to waiting. The doctor hummed, writing into the damned chart, then looking at Dean as if he was a rather interesting bug. It made him just a tad nervous and Dean cleared his throat. He shot a look at his brother, as if asking him to break the silence. Sam just shrugged, clearly not planning on intervening.

Finally the doctor lost his interest and turned to Sam.

''Are you planning on staying in the city for few days or do you want to travel with him?''

''We are staying,'' Sam replied calmly and Dean had a feeling that he already talked with the doc before they came after him. It bugged him a little that Sam was making decisions on his behalf, but then it wasn't like Dean could ask to be released AMA. By all appearances he was a minor, thus all his rights were in the hand of his 'younger' brother. Yeah, sometimes life really sucked.

Meanwhile the conversation continued and Dean realized they were already discussing the release. Letting out a sigh, Dean nodded his thanks to the doctor, who left to prepare the papers. Jamie in the next bed huffed, feeling ignored. He turned back to his game boy and Dean was already crawling out of the bed, only to be stopped by Sam.

''Hey, did you hear a word of what the doc said?'' Sam asked him annoyed, pushing him back before going to the closet and taking out Dean's jeans and shirt.

''Not really,'' Dean shrugged and reached for his shirt, glad that this time around there was no IV or other things to get rid of. Pushing back a moan, he managed to get his jeans on before the nurse came in. Putting on the shirt, he was ready to go.

Once in the car, Dean rested his head against the glass, glad to be out. Despite his efforts to look fine, just the walk to the car tired him, not to mention the fifteen minutes wait for the medication he was sure was totally unnecessary. For once he didn't turn on the radio, and opted for watching the people on the street, while the car slowly made it's way toward the motel. Only when Sam stopped and turned off the engine did Dean realise that they were still in Pendleton.

''What are we doing here?'' he asked, confused.

''I thought it would be best to get a room here, rather then return to Crystle town. They don't know I came with my 'older' brother, so there shouldn't be any questions.''

'And I thought it would be easier to keep you safe here,' Sam thought, but didn't say it out loud. He knew that Dean would want to get back to the hunt, but Sam wasn't ready to let him. Keeping him in some rusty motel room, twenty miles from Crystle town, was the easiest way to assure his safety.

Dean frowned at his brother's explanation. Of course he was right, but Dean still couldn't shake the feeling that Sammy was trying to get rid of him, to lock him away somewhere and finish the hunt alone.

'Damn you Sammy, I may look like a kid, but I am not stupid. You won't get rid of me so easily.'

Getting out of the car was a challenge and with a grimace, Dean shrugged off Sam's hand.

''Stop hovering Dude, I'm not some invalid,'' he growled.

''But you sure look like one…did you look in the mirror lately?'' Sam bit back as he opened the door to their room. Dean's only reply was a snort as he walked to the bathroom.

''Leave the door open,'' Sam shouted after him and shook his head as Dean showed him his middle finger and slammed the door shut. One minute later he could hear the running shower.

Sam walked to the door and turned the knob, glad to find it wasn't locked. While Dean was unaware of his presence, he took his brother's clothes and changed them for the new ones he had bought on his way to the hospital.

He shivered at the sight of blood on Dean's pant leg and the side of his shirt, where most of the bruises were located. When he had finally got a chance to talk with the doctor for longer than a minute, he had told him that Dean was really lucky. The car that had hit him had managed to slow down and the driver turned the wheel so Dean was caught by the side and thrown away, rather than diving head first into the windscreen. That had saved him from more serious injuries, though for Sam, even a concussion and bruised kidney looked like too much. Not to mention all the bruises he didn't even see, until his brother walked stiffly out from the bathroom.

''Thanks for the new shirt,'' Dean muttered, appreciating the simple white color, without any cartoon characters printed on it.

''Dude, if you wanted to get rid of the Scooby shirt, you should've asked. There are easier ways then to get it shredded by a car.''

Dean rolled his eyes and slumped into the chair. The bed looked much more comfortable, but he wasn't sure he could stay awake and he definitely wanted to know what his brother had found out.

''Hungry?'' Sam asked, and not waiting for the answer continued ''There is an Italian restaurant down the corner. Maybe I can get us some pizza. Or would you rather have pasta?''

Dean would rather have nothing, but he didn't say it. His appetite was shot to hell with the persistent headache, but he wasn't about to complain.

''Pizza is fine, Sammy. Why don't you tell me-'' but Sam was already out of the door.

''Great, I'll be back in five,'' Dean caught before the door closed and he let out a frustrated sigh. It looked almost like Sam was evading the subject, but of course that was ridiculous. Groaning, Dean got out of the chair and headed for the bed, deciding that being comfortable had more positives than being alert. His body still needed rest, however futile Dean's mind thought it to be. So grabbing the remote, he started shuffling through the TV channels, stopping on the news. When Sam returned with the box of pizza and coke, he was starting to nod off while the reporter announced another attack somewhere in the Middle East.

''Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Time for food.''

Dean jerked awake, automatically reaching for some weapon. He frowned in puzzlement when his hand found only the remote, then blinked.

''Shit, cut me some slack here, bro,'' he mumbled, annoyed by the fact that he didn't notice Sam's arrival, as well as pissed that his gun and knife were now decorating the interior of the car. He'd have to do something about it, screw Sam's concern of him being found armed. As if Sam carrying a loaded shotgun would go over any easier with the sheriff. Dean snorted.

''What?'' Sam asked with a cocked head.

''I need my weapons, Sammy.''

To Dean's wonder, Sam simply nodded. ''Okay, I already took the bag from the car. It's inside,'' Sam pointed to the closet Dean only now noticed. Without another word, he put a slice of pizza on the plate and pushed it into Dean's hand.

''Eat,'' he ordered and Dean gaped at him, more dumbfounded than really pissed.

''What the hell-''

''You want to help me with Hannings? Then start eating. The doctor in the hospital said you need rest and food, and that's what you'll have.''

Dean shook his head, his frustration edged with something else. Despite how annoying it was, the feeling that someone was taking over, for him not being the one responsible... it was good. Safe. Like during the time when his mother was still alive, and he didn't have the care of the world. Yes, he loved Sammy and took care of him, but there was also Mom and Dad, and they were taking care of him. That all changed rather quickly and even though John Winchester loved his sons, he never managed to give them the feeling of security again. There was always something…a distant threat, hanging like the sword of Damocles above their heads. So even if Dean now allowed Sam to enjoy the little 'role reversal', he didn't plan to keep up with it for any longer than he had to.

''Dean?'' Sam spoke and Dean realised he had once again zoned out. It was starting to worry him, though he knew once the concussion faded, he should be back to his old self. Well, as old as he could be.

''Hmm? What?'' he asked and grunted when the plate and pizza slid down his knees, onto the bed. He had totally forgotten about it.

''Are you okay?'' Sam couldn't stop the question, though he already knew the answer. But the response surprised him.

''Dude, does this look okay to you?'' Dean snorted, picking up the piece of ham from his shirt with disgust. ''This whole thing sucks. Just tell me that you found something useful in the birth records, or I swear I'll shoot someone.''

''As long as it isn't me,'' Sam said with a smirk that stopped Dean before he could make good of the threat.

''Bitch.''

''Jerk.'' Sam replied with a grin.

''Birth records?''

With a tired shrug, Sam flopped onto his own bed and rested his head against the wall.

''Looks like Susan Stockhart was telling us the truth. Hannings had a son, Calum. He was born in 1972 to Jacklyn Francis and Joe Hannings, as their only son. Died in 1981, one month after he turned nine.''

Well, that wasn't so surprising, seeing as Hannings was a killer. There was something that made him the monster he was. Of course, there was still the question of why Calum Hannings died so young.

''Accident,'' Sam said, reading his thoughts. ''There was no better explanation, though I doubt it was so simple.''

''What happened?'' Dean asked and took a bite of the already cold pizza. For some reason, Sam took his time with the answer.

''You remember what I told you about my dreams?''

''The mines,'' Dean nodded, turning a thoughtful look to Sam. ''So you're saying what you saw had already happened to Calum?''

''No, not really. I had a talk with the sheriff, not that it did much good, but he told me the name of the doctor who examined Calum's body. Luckily, he's still alive and ready to talk. I managed to catch him before his nap.''

''You were one busy bee, huh?'' Dean ribbed.

''Someone had to be, when you were stuck in the paediatrics,'' Sam jibed back with a smirk.

''Don't remind me,'' Dean groaned. ''So? What did the doc tell you?''

''Just that Calum drowned.''

''Huh?'' That wasn't what Dean had waited to hear. ''You're kidding me, right?''

''No. He even tested the water in his lungs – there was no chlorine in it, nothing to indicate that he drowned in the pool or bathtub. The doc thought it was plain rain water.''

''But?'' Dean had to ask. There was always some 'but', when Sam had that look on his face.

''Well, the doc found some traces of salt in his lungs and on his skin. There were also some bruises and scratches, but nothing to indicate that Calum was physically harmed.''

Even though Sam was still talking, Dean's mind was stuck on one word. Gaping, his eyes wide in surprise, Dean stared at Sam in disbelief.

''Salt! Did you just say that Calum drowned in salt water?''

''Um, not really. It's not seawater, but there were traces of salt in it. Not really a surprise if you know that they were mining salt.''

''You gotta be kidding, right?'' Dean shook his head and didn't know if he should laugh or scream in horror. ''There's no way a ghost, or whatever fucking thing this is – would take his victims into a mine full of rock salt!''

''Technically, the mines were already closed when Calum died. I believe the salt deposit was already depleted by then. But it really is weird and just a little scary.''

Dean rolled his eyes, bewildered. His headache had just escalated and he wasn't sure if it was thanks to the new information or simply the after effects of the accident. Both of them seemed like a good cause for a migraine.

''This is what you didn't want to tell me?'' he finally asked, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to alleviate the tension.

''Hey, I wasn't trying to hide it from you, Dean. Just... that wasn't the right time for it.''

''Right,'' Dean mumbled and threw a questioning look at Sam's notebook.

''So, did you get some police records?''

''No, I didn't have the time for it and the doctor told me there was no investigation. The boy was found on the shore of Crystle lake. Though the water here isn't salty, the coroner closed the case as an accidental drowning. It was in the middle of the summer and obviously, Joe Hannings wasn't pressing the officials to investigate deeper. They let it slip.''

''Yeah, and did they even consider that dear Daddy had something to do with it? Don't even answer that, Sammy. Where the hell was the kid's mother anyway?''

''She died before Calum turned five. Cancer.''

Dean wanted to say something, but he just let out a tired sigh. Yeah, one more similarity between Calum and himself. Their mother's died before they turned five. Was that what changed Joe Hannings? The death of his wife? And what would've happened with John Winchester if he hadn't had two kids to take care of?

John Winchester had something to fight for, something to focus his pain and anger. His obsession with revenge became the driving power of the Winchester family. John wasn't an abusive father. Despite everything, he loved his sons and tried his best to raise them. Dean knew that. But still there was that lingering feeling, that John's obsession was just another form of trying to deal. There was still the revenge left, but what was left for Hannings? He couldn't beat the illness. Couldn't track it down, lure it out of its hiding place and kill it. There was nothing to kill. The pain and loss could've easily turned inside and consumed the man, until there was only the monster left.

Sharp pain sliced through his head and Dean let out a groan, for a second pushing out everything, trying to handle the headache. Something cold was pressed on his forehead and he realised he wasn't sitting up but laying on his side, knees pulled up so he could alleviate some of the strain on his side.

''Thanks,'' he mumbled, opening his eyes when he felt the bed move, only to see Sam's concerned look.

''You okay?''

Dean gave his brother a half grin that turned into grimace. When Sam handed him a white pill and a glass of water, he downed it without protest.

''You should get some sleep. The doctor said the headaches could last several weeks. Are you feeling dizzy?''

''Nah, I'm good,'' Dean lied. Seeing the frown on Sam's face he knew he didn't do a good job with it.

''Guess I'll take some shut eye, huh?'' he said quickly and trying to divert Sam's attention, told him to find out more about the mines.

''I already downloaded some stuff, just need to go through it. Damn, and I thought I was done reading when I left college.''

''Dude, that's what you love about the hunt. The research,'' Dean muttered, already half asleep. Sam gave him a slight smile, but Dean didn't register it. He felt the hand rubbing his back, the circular motion lulling him to sleep. He thought about making some retort, to protest that he wasn't a kid, but it felt too damn good and relaxing. Dean gave a contented sigh, face sinking into the pillow.

Sam continued stroking his brother's back until he was sure that Dean was asleep. He then carefully stood up from the bed, tucking the blanket around Dean and made his way back to his own bed, where the notebook awaited. But it took him a few minutes to tear his eyes off the sleeping figure. It was eerily satisfying to just watch his brother sleep. To know that for the moment he was safe. He wondered if Dean felt the same after Sam was hurt. Probably yes.

With a sigh, he turned away and started reading. Dean was right when he said that Sam loved the research, and he was soon engulfed in the history of the mine.

He didn't even realise that he fell asleep. Snoring gently, his body relaxed and tiredly stretched itself out. His subconscious decided that now was the time…it wasn't long before he started twitching…one of his 'dreams' hit him.

But this wasn't just a dream, and Sam found himself standing on the road. There was a car parked nearby and two adults were arguing. Sam didn't know them, but that wasn't important. The cold hand on his mouth and around his waist was. The grip that left bruises, the fear that paralysed him…that was what was important. But it was the voice in his ear, the bad breath and the icy words that made Sam sit up in his bed and scream his brother's name.

TO BE CONTINUED

Two more chapters to go till the end

And remember please, that:

Ten of ten writers say that reviews help with writing

Cheers