Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Summary: "Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate." – Germaine Greer

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of nor do I own anything supernatural… other than my roommate.

Hello: Here is a special treat; three chapters in TWO… er- THREE DAYS! Some of you could probably care less, however for those of you who actually like this, viola! A few of you may recognize the reference to Artificial Exemplar… sorry, I couldn't help it; Mr. Churbie simply had to make an appearance, forgive me ;) Kaewi, I know I said I'd get this out yesterday, sorry… things came up, but here you go :) -- Repentive smile.

CHAPTER 8

Cal picked up one mug, filled it and then took a good long whiff of it. He let out a grateful sigh before picking up another mug and filling it to the rim. He glanced down towards the end of the hallway and could see nurses and patients bustling about through the small windows on the secured doors to their wing. He turned and pushed the room door open with his elbow and shut it with his butt while taking a careful sip of the brew.

"AAHH!" Cal cried out, spilling the coffee all over and startling Dean out of his chair. Only his feet got tangled up in the chair legs and he fell backwards, head over heel.

"What the- fuck!" Dean yelled angrily as he quickly gathered his composure and realized nothing was attacking the blond man. "What the hell's the matter with you!"

"You scared the shit out of me!" Cal gasped, trying to slow his speeding heart.

Dean gave him a dubious look. "I wasn't doing anything!"

Cal set the coffee mugs down on the dresser and put a hand to his chest, still shaken. "Not you."

Dean's angry expression died instantly and his gaze whipped around the room in hope. "Sam?"

"By the window." Cal gestured with his free hand.

Dean gripped the bed railings, "Is he alright?" he asked anxiously.

Cal looked up from his coffee-soiled pants, across the room. "Well you don't look fine. You look almost worse than your brain-dead body which isn't saying much-"

"Where the hell was- where the hell have you been? What happened?" Dean cut in. Both living occupants quieted as they listened; one listening to Winchester ala Spirit, and the other to the medical instruments singing their melancholy ballad. Dean threw an expectant look Cal's way. Dean wasn't exactly a patient man to begin with, and after having sat all night in the same chair doing nothing, he was ready to let some of his pent up energy out. Standing here, waiting in silence was not exactly what he had in mind. Cal, for his part was squinting and looking as if he was having a brain aneurism. Dean glanced at his watch.

Finally Cal turned to him, taking in a deep breath. "He said, I don't know," he exhaled.

Dean blinked. "It took him two minutes to say 'I don't know'?"

"Okay honestly? I forgot."

Dean frowned in frustration. "What do you mean you forgot? He just told you!"

"Alright!" Cal threw both hands up in defense. "Look, it's bad enough I have to try and translate between the two of you all the time, but when you start doing the whole Winchester In Stereo deal?... saying the same things at the same time?... its really irritating." Dean gripped the railing again, hard. After a moment of berated silence, Cal flipped his hair back and looked towards the younger brother… ghosted version that is. "Okay, tell me again, a little slower this time." he said with a slightly accusing tone. The room became quiet again except for the occasional 'uh-huh' and 'wow' coming from the translator.

"Okay the shortened version is after you killed that horrible creature yesterday afternoon he was transported or something to a room…" he shook as his head suddenly, "a black room, sorry." The last was said to the air on his right.

"A black room?"

"Yeah, it was completely dark and only just big enough for him to stand in." He was looking to his right still, nodding his head, as if he was being fed the information as he spoke. "He said it was hot and he thought he could hear something outside of the room."

Dean's eyebrows raised in question, "And that was what?"

"He doesn't know… it was just always there in the background."

Dean looked down at his hands gripping the rail as his mind began processing these newest facts. Apparently they had just crossed over into the twilight zone. And that was saying a lot considering his current occupation. He shrugged one shoulder, "So maybe that's where spirits go after they spike," he hypothesized, waiting for a response.

"Spiked," Cal explained to his specter, "As in your little temper tantrum before your great disappearing act?" Dean's brow quirked in confusion at his brother needing to be reminded of the theory; some of which he came up with. Cal also looked confused as he turned to the eldest Winchester. "He says he doesn't know what we're talking about."

Dean warily looked at the empty space. "What's the last thing you remember Sam?"

Cal listened and repeated, "You shooting Eddie and then the room thing."

Dean took a deep breath, "Well it looks like the theory on spiking is no longer a theory." He said casually. "You almost took Cal's head off with a brick."

"Theory on what?" Cal asked.

"The theory I told you about in the car." Dean said impatiently.

"Hey, I'm just repeating what Sam's saying." Cal held his hands up defensively.

Dean glanced back and forth between the empty air and Cal. "You don't remember the theory?" he asked his ghosted brother. "Negative energy… things exploding… process of becoming a bad ass poltergeist?" he listed, looking for some kind of familiarity. Cal shook his head in response. Dean sighed, "I guess our little story-time didn't help like we thought it would."

"I'll tell you later." Cal whispered to his right.

Dean pretended not to hear. He still felt a little awkward about that whole scene; it was just a bit too personal for him, and it should never have happened in front of a stranger. Actually a lot of things shouldn't have happened in front of this stranger, but they had… and Dean had yet to figure out why the heck he was sticking around for more. Other than his good looks of course… okay that and the man technically had a spirit attached to him. He ran a tired hand over his face and rubbed hard at his eyes.

"Alright, spiking 101," Dean finally announced, as if letting his class know they should be taking notes, "Person dies, but due to some heavy emotional stress or event the spirit becomes anchored to our plane because the process of release has somehow been interrupted." He gave a bored shrug, explaining the theory like he was an old teacher that had explained this lesson a hundred times over. "Aaaand since spirits were never meant to exist on our plane, their energy levels conflict with the natural energy flow of the world around us. Their energy spikes, they go out of control, a little crazy… chaos happens. After each spike the ghost looses a piece of themselves and so on and so on… until all that's left is the strongest memory or emotion which is usually what anchored them here in the first place; and it's usually bad."

"Which makes for one helluva bad ass poltergeist!" Cal finished with the enthusiastic flare of Vanna White after inhaling 50 pixie sticks; pumping his fist in the air. He quickly lost his excitement at being able to contribute for once as both brothers threw him an annoyed look. "Sorry," he said contritely.

Dean sighed. "Does that sound at all vaguely familiar?" he asked the wall with jaded hope lacing his tone. He waited patiently again for a response… he was doing that a lot lately; always waiting and never getting the response he was hoping for.

"It's okay." Cal consoled the confused, invisible brother. He nodded his head. "It happened in the building you were brain-deaded in."

"Brain-deaded?"

Cal ignored the older brother's mocking inquiry, his full attention on attending the younger one who was looking a little distressed at the idea that he was loosing memories, pieces of himself… for all intentions becoming that which he hunted for a living. "Dean had just pulled his Dirty Harry act and totally annihilated that zombified creepy goliath." His voice started getting more excited as he switched back into story-telling mode. "Then you started spiking, or whatever. Things stared blowing up and flying all over the place, it was like being inside a torna-"

"I think he gets the point." Dean cut him off.

"Oh no honey, you didn't hurt us." Cal assured. "Well… I mean I got this huuuge splinter in my finger but-"

"Sam, before you went nuts you were checking out the corpse remember?" Dean asked, getting back on track.

"He remembers." Cal held up his damaged finger with an Elmo band-aid fastly secured. 'HUGE' he mouthed to his right.

"Okay, do you remember the ceiling, with the black smear on it?"

"What black smear?" Cal inquired, suddenly curious.

"Just-" Dean held up an impatient hand to the man. "Sam?" he asked, looking back to the wall.

Cal pouted his lips in annoyance, but relayed the message none-the-less. "Yeah he remembers."

Dean nodded, grateful for the small break. "You thought that was significant… you mind filling me in here?"

"He says it started out as an after-thought, but after hearing about the spiking deal just now, it makes a little more sense."

"What does?"

"The thing that killed mo- your mother, and Jessica- who's Jessica?" Cal interrupted his own explanation, but suddenly waived his hands in the air, signifying 'later'. "Anyways, he thinks it might've been there the night you guys first went after Eddie… or whatever we're calling him."

Dean frowned in surprise. "What?" he gave a half-hearted laugh. "Because it looked like fire had burned the ceiling?" He asked in disbelief, all the while swallowing down the small puddle of fear that had suddenly appeared in his gut. "Come on Sam… that's a little obscure, even for you."

"He says to hear him out. The thing that killed your mom and Jessica; both deaths happened over his be- oh my gawd, that's terrible!" Cal threw a sympathetic look to his young specter. "Sorry- anyways, that means he's connected to this thing in some way-"

"Sam," Dean sighed, this was an old argument.

"Hey!" Cal frowned at the eldest brother, "Let the man speak." He flipped his hair back again; ready to perform his supernatural duty once more. "He says something like that doesn't happen twice to the same person, not unless they're tied to it somehow. It's a fact Dean and you're just going to have to accept it." Dean's brow quirked in annoyance at how Sam-like Cal was suddenly sounding in his re-canting. "He thinks maybe, now that the shining has stepped up a few notches in the last several months that the demon is perhaps trying to claim its prize." Cal paused, "What's the shining?"

"It's complicated."

"Okay, you guys are doing it again."

"Cal." Dean rolled his eyes; frustration quite clear.

"Don't you 'Cal' me mister! You're not the one having to be an interloper here." He crossed his arms. "Sam says you should apologize for being so mean to me all the time."

Dean stopped short, "Wha- …Sam did not say that."

"Yes he did."

"No he didn't, and you know what, you're going to hell for lying."

"Oh quit your complaining." Cal bit out to the younger brother who was trying to make himself heard.

"Can we focus here… please!" Dean called out loudly. "Damn Cal… you're worse than a woman!"

"I'm gay." He stated with finality as if that explained everything.

"Does that also make you an imbecile?"

"Oh so now we've moved onto name-calling? Well Mr. Hot-pants I'll have you know- what are you doing?" Cal asked suddenly.

Dean's brow quirked. Cal sent a look at the eldest brother and tilted his head towards the other side of the patient's bed, mouthing 'Sam'. Dean's head turned to look first at the empty space across from him, and then down at the lifeless figure below.

His eyes hesitantly searched the air across from him. His voice was quiet, "Sam?" He glanced Cal's way who simply shrugged, his earlier anger lost, replaced with sympathy once more.

Cal's heart went out to the younger man as he simply stared down at his own body, mumbling something about 'weird' and 'disconnected'. One quiet question did come through clearly and it made every maternal instinct in him kick into full gear. "You're not. We'll figure it out Sam." He answered softly. Dean gave him a curious look; Cal gave him the 'later' sign.

Dean sighed. "Look Sam, about the thing that killed mom..."

"It was there."

Dean paused, "What?"

"He says it was there."

Once more, Dean found himself swallowing down his frustration; another unpleasant habit he found himself developing. "Why Sam? Where's the motive? Where's the proof? A black smear on the ceiling? Hell that could've been there for years."

"Sam?" Cal's head was slowly turning, following the invisible brother who was slowly backing away from the bed. "What's wrong?"

Dean studied the worried look on the man's face, waiting for some kind of input. He vaguely felt the air sizzle suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck shooting up.

"Talk to me here honey, what's going on?" Cal moved towards the corner of the room, wishing he could lay a consoling hand on the younger Winchester who looked like the migraine monster was beating him incessantly. "Oh no- Dean, I think it's happening again."

"Shit." Dean ground out. He didn't expect it to happen so quickly again. He took a step towards the corner of the room when one of the florescent lights suddenly sizzled and popped as it blew out. He ducked, half expecting it to cause the entire fixture to explode. "Sam? You need to focus alright?" He had to raise his voice as the shades covering the window sills started rattling. The dresser drawers began shuddering in place. "Think of mom… or- or Jessica! Focus on Jessica; the first time you saw her! Your first date…" the greeting cards flew from their stations like ninja stars, whipping around the room as if in a wind storm. He lunged for the hospital bed, trying to protect the lifeless body beneath. "The first time you kissed her… or how about those stupid smurf pajamas!" he half laughed, remembering his brother's expression when he first commented on them. "Think about her favorite movie, her favorite song, her-"

He was cut short as a loud, shrilling beeping noise suddenly filled the air. His eyes widened as the monitors went crazy. Sparks suddenly shot out of the heart monitor. Oh that's not good. "SAM!" Dean pleaded; the chair he'd attached himself to all night bounced off the wall, and then his leg. He grimaced in pain, but held fast, especially now that the hospital bed was trying to roll away. "SHIT!" Another monitor of which he hand no clue to its purpose suddenly shot backwards, smashing into the wall.

The door to the room suddenly burst open and in thundered two-hundred and seventy pounds of solid mass. "What the hell is goin on in here!" the man stopped short as the bathroom door almost crashed into his face.

"Jamie!" Cal cried, tucked into a ball on the floor, covering his head, tears slipping down his cheeks. The stupefied look of shock suddenly turned mother-bear protective as the GNC nurse heard the blond man's call. He dodged a drawer that shot out of the dresser and fell to the floor, taking his friend's hand in his and half covering him with his own bulk; eyes frantically flying around the room.

And suddenly it ended; get well cards flittered to the floor, the shades fell back into place, doors stopped swinging, light fixtures and dresser drawers stopped rattling, equipment and furniture stopped smashing into things. Everything went silent.

Dean let out a relieved breath, resting his head on his brother's chest; relishing the silence once more. Complete silence.

His head suddenly shot up, looking at the life-support equipment scattered about the room. There was nothing, no beeping, no repetitive whoosing of oxygen… nothing. "Oh shit." He whispered. "No no no no no!" his hands frantically went from his brothers chest to holding his head. "Sammy!" His head whipped around in panic, "Help him!" he demanded to the two men still in awe on the floor.

The imploring look of helplessness in the brother's eyes drove the trained nurse into action. He pushed off the floor and took two wide strides to the wall behind the bed, his hand punching a large red button on the wall. The nurse had suddenly transformed into a whirlwind of activity; moving equipment around, checking stats, and attaching a spare breathing apparatus to the tube still in Sam's mouth. "You two need to get out of here now!" he commanded with hardly a glance their way.

Dean was in shock, "What?"

"You need to leave!"

"No way in hell am I leaving-"

Jamie was suddenly in his face, all 270 pounds of him. "Any second now a team of doctors and nurses are gonna come charging in here… and I don't know what the hell to tell em happened. If someone sees you here they'll think you did this and it'll likely be the last time you'll see your brother unless it's from behind bars. Cally!"

Cal suddenly appeared behind the brother, pulling his arm urgently. "Dean we have to go!"

"I can't just leave him!"

"Take him to my place, I'll meet you there." End of conversation. Jamie was all business, using every trick he had to get the systems back online and keep the boy's body alive.

"Dean!" Cal gave a hard pull, and suddenly the brother caved, allowing himself to be lead out the door and down the hallway and around the corner just as a support crew ran through the wing's security doors and into Sam's room.

TBC…