Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I have borrowed Kripke's creation of the world of Supernatural and his characters. I have no rights to them at all.
Dean kept glancing at the clock. 10:07. Either Sam had finally been able to sleep, which Dean highly doubted, or something was wrong. John limped heavily into the room, leaning on the cane that had been issued to him that morning. The two older Winchesters shared a glance of trepidation as Dean tried calling his brother's cell phone again. Still voicemail. Panic began to nibble at him, and he clenched his sheets to help steady himself. The demon was still out there; and so was Sam.
"I'm going to go check on him," stated John.
"Have you been discharged?"
"No, but one of us has to and you can't. You're still hooked up to those wires and the IV."
"That's easily taken care of." Dean reached up to strip them off his body but stopped at his father's voice.
"Look. If Sam is still asleep and you go barreling in, he'll feel to blame if you have a relapse."
"But if something…" Dean worried.
"Then I'll let you know and then you can rip those things off." John turned around and headed out the door. "I'll call as soon as I know anything."
Dean winced. Maybe his brother needed him, and here he was tethered to a hospital bed. "Go" he called after his father's retreating back. "Find him."
ooooOOOOoooo
The sight that met John's eyes made him stagger into the wall next to the motel room's door. The place looked like a battlefield. Blood stained the sheets, splattered the walls and carpet. Any icy fist clutched at his heart as he begged, "No, please let it not be Sam's blood!" Dean's blade peaked out from under the bedskirt, covered with clotted blood. Sam had fought back. His sling lay discarded in the corner, mute testament to the man's survival training: get rid of all impediments. But where could they have taken him? John struggled to get his phone out of his jacket and dialed Dean.
It was answered before the first ring had ended. John's voice cracked, "He's not here." He was startled to hear how badly his voice was shaking. Stop. Assess the situation. Make a plan. But this was Sammy missing, and they had no trail to follow. "There was a fight. He's been taken. I think he hurt at least one of them badly."
On the other end of the line, Dean's world came crashing down. Twenty-two years later, the demon got his brother. NO. It was only temporary. Dean knew Sam would be counting on him to find him; Dean always found him. That unshakable faith that Sam had pulled Dean back into thinking mode. He would find his brother and he would keep him from the darkness.
John hung up after telling him the news. Dean started thinking again as he tried to figure out what to do. His father would be going to the police station and trying to see if there was a place in town reputed for weird or dark things. He ordered Dean to wait for his call before acting. The wait would be pure torture.
ooooOOOOoooo
All day he'd been tense, his head pounded with a fierce ache that would not go away. Dr. Ashcraft had looked in on him a few times, but he steadfastly refused to tell her what was wrong. She hoped that John and Sam were working things out. Little did she know how vain her hopes were. Dean jerked when his cell phone rang. John had no news and no clue where to start. Dean had had enough. He was determined to join the hunt. Two hunters could split up and cover more ground. He was insistent. His father relented. He would come for him so Dean had to be ready to move. His actions were interrupted when Dr. Ashcraft walked into his room. When Dean looked up, she was struck by the agonized look on his face.
"I need to get out of here," Dean demanded.
"What? You're still healing. I won't allow it."
"I don't care whether you allow it or not. Get these things off me, or I'll do it myself." Dean struggled off the bed getting tangled up in the lines.
She put out a hand to stop him, and he practically growled at her. The man was distraught; something was wrong. From what little she knew of him, the doctor knew she wouldn't be able to stop him, especially if he was as stubborn as the youngest Winchester. Sam. The young man hadn't returned when he'd promised. Overheard words from the previous night were remembered. She realized that the problem was "Sam."
Dean flinched as if struck when she spoke his brother's name. The stricken look on his face was her answer. It seemed that there was more to this than an argument. The conversation from the previous night once more swam into memory. Dean pulled off one more sensor. She knew he'd never listen to reason. She sighed, "Hold still a minute. Let me remove these." Dean stopped and allowed her to assist him. "At least let me check your stitches." She peeled back the bandage, pleased at how well he was healing, afraid she'd have to patch him up again when this "business" was over. She told him to wait while she went to get some dressings to rebandage his wounds.
A nurse came into his room, fiddled with the machines and turned towards the bed. "Christo." She jerked. Dean flicked holy water from the silver flask in his hand, and she stumbled back from his side. Once he knew Sam was taken, Dean had prepared for some kind of attack. Being trapped in his room did not make him defenseless. Dr. Ashcraft walked back in as the nurse scuttled out. The doctor did not realize what she had just almost witnessed.
"What was that all about?" She picked a syringe off the floor where it had been dropped. "I didn't order any medication. What's going on?"
Dean knew he'd had a narrow escape. "I have to get out of this place. They're planning something and I need …I need to find Sam"
"What? What is happening? Where is your brother? Is he okay?"
"We don't know where he is, and he's in major trouble. It's the thing that hurt us that has him." He knew he'd said too much, but this kind woman seemed to care about his family and truly seemed to want to help.
His answer died on his lips as the door swung open and John Winchester limped in. "All right Dean. Have you thought of any place they might have taken Sam? I've thought. . ." His voice trailed off as he saw the doctor standing there with her hands on her hips. The seriousness of his demeanor underscored the pain lines engraved on his face. She wasn't sure if the cause was worry or the pain he must have been feeling from his leg since he supported most of his weight on his cane. A backpack dangled from his left shoulder and she wondered about the bulky items it seemed to contain. He lowered it slowly to the floor. Looking back at her patient, she saw him straighten and walk stiffly to the closet to get his clothes. He stood with them in his hands, looked at her, shrugged, and proceeded to change. This would be his test. If he didn't fall over, she'd allow him to walk out. A part of her hoped he wouldn't succeed. Faster than she anticipated, driven by a fear she couldn't comprehend, Dean was dressed and ready to go. Walking towards his father, he stopped and sat down in Sam's chair.
"What now?" he peered up at his father, ignoring Dr. Ashcraft completely.
"We'll have to split up. Look for abandoned buildings, warehouses, whatever we see. I wish we had some idea of its plans. That might give us a hint. Maybe. . .Nah, we're too far from that warehouse in Lincoln." Despair swept over John.
Dean started as if struck. He put his hand to his forehead and put out the other to stave off all questions. The memory finally came and he looked up with hope in his eyes. "I think I have a clue."
"What? How? Where?"
"After you left us in Chicago, we holed up in Effingham for a week. Sam had a vision one night about himself. He said he didn't really see anything, but he did say his left shoulder was on fire and he was terrified of someone in the room with him. It makes sense! His collarbone. I'm sure that thing is trying to scare Sammy. Damn!" Dean's fist slammed into the chair's arm. "The things it said to him already, making him believe. . ."
"Did Sam see anything that could give us a clue to where he is?"
"No. But he said he smelled hay and that the room was big." Dean turned to Dr. Ashcraft. "Any barns in the area? Feed stores? Anything that would have a wooden floor and hay?"
"Nooo. We're not that rural. I can't think of. . ." She pinched the bridge of her nose and thought. "There was a nightclub, Rodeo something, that shut down about four months ago but hasn't sold yet. I think they had hay bales stacked against the walls as ambiance. Is that what you're looking for?"
"How close is it?" Dean sprang up and regretted the move instantly. "What's the address?"
"Let me check with one of the nurses. That club wasn't my scene, and I only vaguely know about the place."
The two Winchester men exchanged a glance. Dean walked over to the pack on the floor and started to rummage inside. Kneeling at the bag, he looked up at his father. "What do you think we're up against?"
"I couldn't tell from the motel room, but Sam put up a struggle. He really got one of them. I guess the demon took over another body, so I'm betting at least three all together, maybe a few more. You're sure this could be it?"
"This feels right to me somehow. He said he heard my voice calling his name." A shadow covered Dean's face. "The last thing he felt in the vision was heat from fire." His lips tightened. He'd rescued his brother once from fire; he'd do it again.
Both men fell into their own thoughts of the past. The demon plus fire would be bad. They turned as Dr. Ashcraft came in. She caught a glint of metal as Dean slid something into the waistband at small of his back.
"O.K." She said. "When you leave the hospital parking lot, turn right. Stay on the street for about ten miles until you hit Doniphan. Turn right on Doniphan and go about 8 more miles. The club is set back from the street so it's kind of hard to see but it has a large parking lot so you should be able to spot it. It's on the right." She paused. "Couldn't you call for help? If Sam has been kidnapped, that's a job for the authorities."
The Winchesters shook their heads simultaneously. "There's no way they know how to . . .handle this kind of thing," said Dean. He palmed something else out of the pack and into his pocket and lifted the bag with his left arm. Big mistake. He dropped it and grabbed his shoulder. Dr. Ashcraft stutter-stepped forward, halted, as she knew any efforts on her part would be sternly rebuffed. "Let me give you my number. Call me if you need to come back here in a hurry."
Dean remembered Sam saying, "My stomach explodes. I think I must have been stabbed or something." Sam would probably be hurt bad and need treatment immediately. "Thanks, I think we'll need it."
"Don't be a fatalist, Son."
"I'm not but Sammy said some other things. . ." Dean refused to enlighten his father any further.
"The sun's going down. We need to go, son."
Dr. Ashcraft watched the two men head down the hallway, determination giving them strength they would need. She turned to the desk and ordered a room for two beds to be set aside for her use. When asked the names of the patients, she turned to her head nurse and said, "Look, just get one ready. We're not short of rooms so that shouldn't be too much trouble. Just make sure the room is in my wing." She strode to the records room and pulled the charts on all three Winchesters, checked that there was units of blood in their types, and prepared to wait. She hoped the wait would be short; that they'd find the young man and that he'd be okay..
ooooOOOOoooo
It wasn't too difficult to find the club. It looked deserted but the windows seemed to flicker with a pale light, like candlelight. The men got out of the stolen car. John pulled a bag from the trunk. He took out a book, some red earth and a jug of water. "We need to cast a binding circle so I can read the exorcism ritual. You'll have to go get Sam. Can you do that?"
"Yes!" Dean grew up taking care of Sammy. This was just another time of pulling him out of harm's way. He had to believe that. This time the stakes were pretty high. If they failed. . .No. Don't think like that. "Give me some of the earth."
The two men started at the front door and separated, one going clockwise, the other counterclockwise making a solid circle of red until they met in the back. John sealed the circle with a word. "Go get your brother, Dean."