Sam sat up in the passenger seat with a shriek that shook the Impala's windows.
"It's okay, Sam."
Sam didn't know where or even who he was until he felt Dean's palm over his heart, pushing him back against his seat.
Sam was panting. Only now did he realize that smoke was coming out of his lips and nostrils. Dean looked over, eyes struck with terror. There was nowhere to pull over so he swallowed hard, white knuckled the wheel, and somehow kept his voice calm for them both.
"They, um...They burned you. I think that's what that's about."Dean bit his lip, motioning with his pointer finger in a circle in the air, indicating the smoke.
Sam nodded as the smoke billowed into the cab. He rolled the window down, gasping in several breaths of the night. Finally, the smoking stopped. Sam had blood running down his nostrils now.
"D-Dean?!" He sounded like a little kid again. Neither brother wanted to be reminded of the fact that this night reminded them of the first time John had gotten drunk and wailed on Dean. Dean had put a sobbing and delirious little Sam in the Impala and drove him around until he fell asleep, despite the fact that he had a bloodied lip himself. Dean had been 12 and had taken off with the car until John passed out asleep for a few hours because he was afraid if he had the wheels he would leave them there without money. This felt just like that had and worse.
As the blood splashed onto Sam's hands, Dean reached into his shirt pocket and produced the bandana he'd had on hand a lot lately. He reached over and wiped Sam's blood for him, stuffing the rag in his fist.
"Hold it to your nostrils. The bleeding will stop. You did that for a little bit earlier before you passed out." Dean smiled. His voice was tender and quiet. Sam felt peace roll over him for the first time in days. He could never explain how everything could be infinitely wrong and yet Dean could still make him feel safe.
"They didn't kill me. They tried and they couldn't..."Sam's voice was so hoarse it sounded like he'd gargled barbwire.
"I know...Shh, take it easy, buddy, you were on fire just a few hours ago..."Dean's eyes were electrified. He'd need to calm down to be scared to death.
Sam lay there panting for a second. Then, he started coughing, to the point he vomitted up a mouthful of blood on himself. He looked at it in gaping horror as the blood dripped and seeped into his shirt and hands, drizzling on his jeans a bit.
"You did that once before too...You're gonna be okay, I promise...Believe me, if you weren't, I'd be hauling it to the ER, hot pursuit or none." Dean reached over, took the bandana from Sam's shaking hands, and cleaned him up. Then, he tossed the bandana in the back with a pile of others. He reached into the back and produced a coffee can.
"If you have to be sick again, use this. I can't take you to the hospital just yet, Sammy, they've been tailing us. I know you're probably hurting. Hang tough for a little bit, okay? I promise you're gonna be okay." Dean's hand was shaking as he passed Sam the coffee can.
Sam studied Dean as he leaned against the seat panting. Dean's lips were periwinkle with a shock white ring around them. It was almost as if he kept telling Sam he would be alright because he needed to believe that himself.
"Are...you...okay?" Sam croaked out, mortified by how much he sounded like a cyborg with his machine-creaking hoarse voice. Dean tried to smile.
"I'm pretty freaking far from okay, man, but don't worry about me...I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you, kiddo. Stop talking now. You keep bleeding cause you've got a lot of smoke and debris from the fire up in your throat and lungs. It happened to me for a bit after Mom died...It's like you got scratched up on the inside." He winced. Sam realized that's how Dean knew he wasn't dying.
Sam lay there in a daze. A moment passed and then Yellow Eyes flashed across his eyes again. Yellow Eyes! He'd dreamed about him, he'd seen him when he'd been on fire and all of that before.
"Yellow Eyes...he talked to me...when I was...when I was..."Sam coughed.
"Shh, okay...I know some of it already, Sammy, you've been talking in your sleep. Take it easy." Dean laid a hand on Sam's chest again, rubbing a small circle there, as if he was trying to ground them both by feel in the dark. Sam nodded and grabbed Dean's hand. He held it there in the dark, feeling his wrist quake in the loop of his fingers. Dean let a shaky breath.
"But he says...They keep tailing us...He...He...Said to meet him...Meet him in the field...We're playing the game." Sam choked out. Dean sighed deeply, conceding to the fact that Sam wouldn't hush until he'd said his peace.
"We are playing his game, Dean. This, turning Dad on us, setting me up to either conform to this dark essence or to try and destroy it...This is what Yellow Eyes...It's what he wants. He wants...He wants to free Lucifer...So he can absorb his power with my psychic abilities...He...He offered me...He offered me a...place at the table...he said that...Place at the table...if I give in to him..." Sam wheezed.
"I know, you've been talking in your sleep. Okay, shut up now, please. You're gonna hurt yourself. Just rest up a minute, will ya? Huh? Sammy, lay back..." Dean was begging. He rarely did that. Sam nodded and leaned back against the seat, panting to keep from coughing himself sick again.
Sam closed his eyes, remembering the dream. He could hear Yellow Eyes talking in his head, even now, even as if he was talking right here in the car.
"Sam, you're my favorite...The Horse I've always bet on. You could be great. Hell, you could be like a king. And in my new vision of the world, you can be on top, buddy boy. You could absorb his old majesty Satan's energy with your power, you could become the new Devil. You could...I would be there, of course, Sam...I would be there to make you great...That's why I put all so much stock in you. If I'm right and you've got what it takes, then I will transform you into what you need to be using my powers...If I'm wrong, well then we'll play this game fair and square, Sammy boy... So, see, thems your options. Live in victory with me, have a big place at the table, or die by my hands. I'm the only one who can outright kill you, you know...Poor Johnny, he's only being used as a piece of the chess board, testing your powers, breaking down your humanity, knocking out from under you the stops that keep you from coming to me...But magic guns don't work, son...I will wrap him around my fingers so tight he will become my hands and feet. Don't you ever question it, Sammy, boy. John's gonna be so important to my plans...Your family, your beloved Dean? They are gonna be fine if you come to me...I've got big plans for them, Sam, big plans!"
Sam shivered, unsure what it all meant.
His thoughts were interrupted by Dean's voice.
"Sam, no matter what else that happens...Okay, you don't need to talk, just...I just wanted to say...I just wanted you to hear it...That...you know that I'm not going anywhere, right?" Dean's voice was steady even for the struggle he had in finding his words, eerily calm for the fear in his eyes. Sam looked up at him. He suddenly realized what he was trying to say and it nearly brought him to tears.
"I love you too, Dean..."Sam cringed at his hoarse voice, and closed his eyes.