Chapter 2

One by one, Sam's symptoms weren't all that bad, really. A bit concerning, yes, but nothing to write home about. That initial pain on the left side of his chest seemed to have lit a small fire that was constantly sizzling the flesh in that area. Just in case that fire should dwindle, the occasional restriking of the flint would hit him, sending another sharp pain lancing through his chest. His stomach was also having a rough go, acting as if it was stuck on a boat in rough seas. The nausea made sense when you considered the fact that waves of dizziness were flowing into him, each one stronger than the next as if building towards a tidal wave. But the symptom that was causing him the most concern, the one that was making him think of telling Dean what was happening, was the racing of his heart. He couldn't even say when it started, he was so distracted by all the other issues his body was going through. But once he did notice, it nearly took his breath away. The more he noticed it, the faster it seemed to go, as if his heart just had to get away from the body that was being slowly turning on itself.

As the world tilted again and his chest lit up slightly fiercer than last time, Sam marveled at how fast everything was happening. The fire in his chest had started to gather strength before the door had even shut behind them. The pains in his chest were coming with normal frequency, one every three or four minutes. The first wave of vertigo came right around the time they'd cleared the first hallway, with the nausea following around a few minutes later. He'd only become aware of his increasing heart rate a few minutes ago, but already it had doubled in speed. Something was seriously wrong.

Sam took a breath to call out to his brother when all hell broke lose, three body blows that sent him crashing down. His stomach roiled violently. At the same another sharp pain shot through his chest like a flaming arrow. The threatening tidal wave finally arrived, pouring the overwhelming dizziness onto him and sending him into a miserable heap on the floor.

Dean heard the unmistakable sound of Sam collapsing and yelled out his brother's name even before he'd fully turned around. He bolted to his brother's side and dropped to his knees, and the hand that automatically rested itself on Sam's back jumped right back off, repelled by the heat emanating from Sam's body.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean replaced his hand and used the other to gently guide Sam partially upright so that he rested against the wall. Sam's eyes were screwed shut, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to pull himself back down into a fetal position.

Dean kept a firm hand on Sam's shoulder, keeping him upright as he tried to get his brother's attention.

"Sam. Sammy. You gotta tell me what's going on."

Lifting his head a bit, Sam's eyes opened. Pain filled hazel eyes met worried green ones. A resigned sounding sigh preceded nearly laughable words.

"I'm not doing too good here."

Dean snorted humorlessly. "You don't say. Mind filling me in on the details?"

Sam closed his eyes as he listed his symptoms. "Nauseous. Dizzy. My chest feels like it's on fire. I keep having sharp pains in my chest. And my heart's beating so fast it feels like it's going to jump right out of my chest."

Dean put his fingers on Sam's neck, feeling the pulse racing at a nearly impossible rate. Dean took a moment to process, then lowered his head onto the back of his wrist and blew out a breath. Composing himself, he asked Sam when it started, even though he had a pretty good feeling he already knew the answer.

"Right after I touched that stuff on the door handle."

As another shot of pain hit Sam's chest, a shot of anger hit Dean's. "And you didn't tell me this why?"

Sam rubbed his chest and finally opened his eyes. "It all came on so fast. I was literally about to say something when, you know."

Sam was right, they'd only been in the building around half an hour or so. A frighteningly short amount of time considering how rapidly Sam had deteriorated. Dean nodded, refocusing his anger.

"I guess we now know at least some part of how those people vanished."

"That slime is bad news."

"When is it ever good news?"

"Someone set a trap."

Thinking about the rural area they were in, Dean said, "Could be another Bender situation."

Sam's only response was another wince, his hand going once again to his chest as he pulled in on himself.

Dean looked upwards. "Cas!" He yelled. "Cas, get down here now!"

Sam seemed to relax slightly at the mere mention of the angel's name. One swoop of his hand and Cas would have him back to fighting form in mere moments.

When Cas hadn't shown after 30 long seconds, Dean tried again. He pulled out his cell phone and saw the hateful words, "no signal". He was probably just in a bad area of the building, he told himself. Sure. That was it.

Okay, plan B. Dean snagged his duffle bag and rummaged around for a bit, finally pulling out a white pill bottle and a bottle of water. He dumped two blue oblong pills into his palm and held them out to Sam. "Here."

Sam looked down. He hesitated for a second, then snatched the pills, downed them and took a sip water. He managed to get down a few extra sips before gagging. He shut his eyes tightly and froze, his hand flat on his stomach.

Dean tried not to dwell on how quickly Sam accepted some of his "special medicine." His hippy, health conscious brother was usually loathe to accept anything that Dean carried. The fact that Sam was willing to accept the pills without even knowing what they were absolutely terrified Dean. He had to get Sam help. Now.

Sam had managed to keep the water and pills down, no easy feat judging from the sheen of sweat on his brow. Dean decided to take the small win as the signal to move. "Come on," he said as he moved next to Sam. "We gotta get out of here."

Dean got an arm around his brother and tried to get him to his feet. It was a monumental task, taking three attempts before Sam's legs were steady enough to hold his weight. When they finally got fully upright Sam leaned heavily against Dean, his eyes shut tight and his chin down against his chest as he took slow sips of air, presumably to keep from puking up the medicine. Dean gave him a few moments, then urged him on. He had no idea who had put that crap on the door handle, and worse yet, he had no idea what it was. But it was attacking his brother's body at an alarming rate. Not to mention that the unknown a-holes could be lying in wait to finish off the job, they had to get a move on. Now.

It was a slow go, but with Dean taking most of his weight, and using his other hand to brace against the wall, Sam was able to be guided towards the door. His eyesight wasn't much help at this point. All his periphery had gone dark, leaving only a hazy center to his vision. Even that had become muted and fuzzy. Sam didn't bother telling Dean about that, it seemed the least of their problems at this point. The fire on his chest had gone from a simmer to a blazing inferno, and the pains ripping through his chest were excruciating, and much more frequent. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out every time one hit. The dizziness and nausea were constant and fierce, working as a team to pull him back to the floor where they could continue their assault. And his heart? He'd been worried that it might beat so fast that it could actually stop. He wasn't worried anymore. It was a certainty. The human heart wasn't meant to beat that fast for as long as it had been with no sign of reprieve. It was just a matter of time before it threw up the middle finger and left the building.

A gruff voice next to him sounded pissed off. "Cas, come on! Where the hell are you?"

Who...? Was that Dean? His voice sounded so muffled. Or was that because of the ringing in Sam's ears? Probably. Why not? Just another ingredient to add to the poison pie. The far away voice seemed to be speaking to him now. Sam tried to focus in on the words.

"Phone's no good. I can't get a signal, and I can't get hold of Cas. We must be in a dead zone for the cell, and I don't know why the hell Cas isn't answering."

Sam didn't reply. Couldn't, really. All his energy was focused on putting one foot in front of the other and remaining upright. Ten minutes or so later the second goal became unnecessary. He felt himself being lowered gently to the ground which honestly suited him just fine. It was so lovely on the cold ground. It was still seesawing like a teeter totter, and gosh those were fun, weren't they? He remembered playing on them when he was little. There was that on massive one in, Montana, was it? Bright blue, the metal almost too hot to the touch, he would push off as hard as he could and laugh hysterically as he soared into the air, only to crash back down when Dean took his turn. How they would laugh! He opened his mouth to ask if Dean remembered Teeter Totter Mountain when his stomach cramped painfully. He gagged, vomiting up a bit of frothy liquid. A shock of pain ripped through his chest and he cried out.

Dean banged his fist in frustration as he heard Sam yell from the floor behind him. He tried to swallow the terror that was overtaking him. The door wouldn't open. The goddamned door they'd just come only an hour ago was fastened shut, not budging even an inch. He bolted to the closest window, already knowing it too would deny him access. In fact, every window he tried was shut tighter than a virgin on Easter Sunday.

They were trapped.