Infected

Chapter 2

The sharp crack of breaking glass pierced the blanketing silence that surrounded the Winchester brothers.

"Think they'll notice?" Dean asked, knocking the remaining shards of glass loose with the crowbar.

"Not while we're still in town," his brother replied.

Dean reached through the window, searching for the latch that would open it, and upon finding it, swung the window open to its extent.

"Not much of an opening," Dean said, examining it. "Shouldn't be too hard for your lurpy ass to squeeze through, though."

Sam gave him a look. "Lurpy? Hey, I'm just as built as you, shortie."

Dean snorted. "Don't kid yourself, bud. I could kick your ass any day and you know it."

Sam rolled his eyes. He'd never give Dean the satisfaction of knowing, but, yeah, that was pretty much the truth.

"Oh, and I'm not short by normal standards. But, you know, put me next to a lurpy kid...such as yourself..."

Sam shook his head in exasperation. "Give me a boost, will you?" he asked, bringing them back to the issue at hand. He set the pet carrier containing Jeffrey's cat on the ground and reached up for the window. Dean bent and offered his hands as a foothold. It took a bit of straining, but the younger Winchester managed to slide through the narrow window without too much grief. Dean helped guide his brother's long legs through until he successfully made it inside. Dean heard his brother tumble onto the tile floor of the classroom.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," came the muffled response. A moment later Sam appeared at the window, dusting himself off.

"Meet me around at the side doors," Dean said, reaching down to pick up the pet carrier.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, peering down at his brother. "We're sure there's no internal alarm system, right?"

"That's what Jeffrey said."

"Yeah, but what if he's wrong? What if it's one of those silent ones?"

Dean gave a short laugh. "Sam, this is Redneck High we're breaking into. Not the Pentagon. And besides, I'm pretty sure the local law enforcement has a bit more pressing matters to tend to right now than a high school break-in."

"...Right," Sam said, seeing the crystal clear logic behind that. A moment later he disappeared from view.

Dean met him around the side of the building a minute later and was let in as Sam held the doors open for him. Sure enough, and much to Sam's relief, no piercing wail of an alarm met their ears.

"Here," Dean said, pushing the case that contained the cat back into his brother's arms. "Did you happen to pass the science lab?"

"Yeah, it's just down the hall a ways. This way," Sam motioned.

Dean fell in step behind his brother, glancing at each empty classroom they passed. He couldn't help but feel a bit relieved they hadn't waited until nightfall to come here. There was something really eerie about an empty school as it was, but add in nighttime and darkness streaked with moonlight, and this place could very well have passed for one of the typical sites they worked their usual gigs.

"In here," Sam said, peering through the glass of one of the classroom doors. He opened the door slowly, despite the fact that there wasn't really any need for caution.

Four large tables were laid out across the room, each equipped with six stools and a sink.

"Well," Dean said, after taking a good look around the room. "Let's get this over with, huh?"

Sam set the carrier on the nearest table.

"You prep the patient," Dean went on, "I'll find what we need."

Sam glanced at his brother, knowing full well he was intentionally avoiding any contact with the cat. He knew Dean hated cats as it was, and he was pretty sure a cat infected with some freak virus wouldn't be any exception.

"Just, uh," Dean said as Sam started moved to open the carrier door, "don't let it bite you or anything."

Oh, thanks, that's just what I was planning on letting it do, Sam thought sarcastically. He was about as worried as the cat biting him as he was about being bit by a limp rag. Because that's exactly what the cat resembled at the moment. A panting, hot-to-the-touch, limp rag. Sam had never seen a cat pant like that before. It was a little unnerving.

"Here, wait," Dean said, stopping Sam as he was reaching for the cat. He started rummaging through the cupboards at the front of the room. "Here we go," he said, and tossed his brother a box of rubber gloves. "Put those on."

Yeah, not a bad idea. It never hurts to use a little caution, Sam thought, slipping a pair of gloves on. He reached for the cat and, gently as possible, slowly dragged it out on to the counter. It's abnormally glossy eyes stared up at him, indifferent as to what was going on.

"Damn," Sam said, looking down at the cat with a sympathetic gaze. "Poor thing."

Dean glanced over at his brother. Heh, typical Sammy, he thought to himself. Feeling for a cat. Dean often wondered if he should try picking up a few tips from his younger brother when it came to the sensitivity department. Chicks seemed to dig that type of stuff. But, there weren't any chicks here now, Dean reminded himself glumly, so it's not like it mattered anyway. He turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"So," Dean said, talking with his back to his brother. "What exactly does this guy hope to accomplish by us doing this?"

Sam glanced over at him. "I don't know. Study the virus...Look for a cure...I mean, he obviously knows a thing or two about biology. Maybe this is the only way he can get some hope that his daughter might be okay..."

"So," Dean said, joining his brother at the table, his arms full of various instruments. "We're breaking into a high school and collecting some freaky-ass cat's blood just to give a guy some hope, huh?"

Sam thought it over briefly. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Dean pursed his lips and nodded for a moment. "Well, that's great then," he said, giving a slight shrug. "Because there most definitely isn't anything better we could be doing with our time."

"Dean," Sam said a bit reprimanding. "We offered to help the guy," he reminded him. "And we do need to gather as much information about this virus as we can if plan on helping the town. And that's where Jeffrey's expertise might come in handy."

Dean nodded, seeing the logic behind his brother's words. "Yeah, yeah..." he said, pulling on a pair of gloves himself. "Mind if I do the honors, then?" he asked, holding up a syringe.

"Knock yourself out, man," Sam said, making a slight face at the sight of the syringe. God, he hated needles.

"Sorry if this hurts a bit, bitch," Dean murmured, bringing the needle down to the stoic cat. He pressed it against the cat's thigh and gently slid it in. The cat didn't so much as flinch. It just continued to stare up at them, making that god-awful, rasping, panting noise.

Both brothers watched intently as the syringe slowly filled with a deep crimson liquid. A deep crimson infected liquid, they reminded themselves.

"Hand me one of those vials, would you?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the syringe as it neared being filled to its capacity.

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, turning to grab one.

Time seemed to slow down slightly as Dean began to slip the needle back out. He wasn't expecting it. There was no reason he should have been. The cat had been almost scary-docile the whole time. However, in the mere fraction of a second, and completely without warning, that docility instantly snapped into full-on, furious aggression.

The cat jerked itself away with a sharp hiss, claws out, hair on end. It took one swipe at Dean, eyes unnaturally wide, before flinging itself off the table and galloping maniacally across the floor, sliding as it went, only to reach the open door and disappear.

Sam stood stock still for a moment, gaping across the room at where the cat had just vanished. What the hell was that! He closed his mouth after a moment, willing himself to recover from that unexpected shock. However, nothing could have prepared him for the shock that awaited him only a head's turn away.

He looked over at his brother. Dean was standing motionless. Not gaping across the room like Sam had been. Not slack-jawed with shock. No, he was staring down. At his hand. Where a needle was deeply embedded in his skin.

Sam's stomach turned to a hunk of ice that dropped so fast he almost lost his balance. His mouth fell open in disbelief at what he was seeing, and his eyes widened in unmistakable fear.

Slowly, Dean brought his gaze up to meet his brother's while at the same time giving the syringe a sharp tug. He didn't flinch. He just met his brother's look of complete shock, with one that, while almost completely devoid of emotion, clearly said Oh Shit, Sammy. I just screwed up big time.

A beat passed. Both their breaths were hitched. Then something in Sam snapped.

"No," he said, shaking his head vehemently and springing into action. He immediately grabbed his brother's hand, yanking the rubber glove off in one swift motion while dragging him over to the sink. He nearly broke the tap in his desperation to get the water running, and immediately forced his brother's hand under the steady stream. He started scrubbing. Desperately rubbing at the small red pinprick that was visible on his brother's hand. It wasn't too late. If he got it clean, it wouldn't be too late...He scrubbed harder.

"Sam," Dean broke in gently, slowly trying to free himself from his brother's grasp.

Sam didn't hear, pressing harder into his brother's hand with each scrubbing motion.

"Sam," Dean repeated a bit louder, pulling back with a bit more force.

The scrubbing slowed. Sam reluctantly brought his fearful, in-denial gaze up to meet his brother's calm one.

Dean gave a slight shake of his head and a regretful half-grin flashed momentarily across his face. "It's no use, Sammy." he said, shaking his head once more. "It's too late..."

Chapter 3 coming soon.

A/N: Well, I hope this is getting angsty enough for you guys. Be sure to drop a note before leaving, please! Reviews feed my muse like no other. Chapter three should be up within the next few days, so check back, won't you? Oh, and thanks to those who reviewed chapter 1! Don't think they go unnoticed. :)