Note: The vote is tied on which story I post after this one is done. May have to flip a coin yet. If you've not decided, there are only three more chapters of this story left.

Chapter 17

The moaning in the backseat got higher and would taper off as Dean looked at Sam tossing restlessly in the rearview mirror. He had finished off the last of the spiked Gatorade about four hours ago and his symptoms were starting to get worse again. Dean knew this was probably because his blood was not pure demon blood and not as strong as Ruby's had been. s

"Hang on Sammy, it's not much farther now, less than an hour and we'll be at Bobby's," Dean called to him, hoping he was able to hear him.

"Hurts, no..No…Ruby…Please…" Sam mumbled as he tossed his head back and forth. It felt like his insides were on fire and every nerve in his body was sending shock waves of pain to every cell in his body. The craving was building deep down in his soul and would not stop until he fed it.

"You can do it bro, don't stop fighting it," Dean told him, trying to give him what support he could. He pressed harder on the gas making his Baby shoot forward toward the salvage yard. He cringed every time Sam cried out and begged him to make it stop. Dean's nerves were shot by the time he saw that Sioux Falls was only ten miles away. "We're almost there Sammy, almost there." He reached over the seat to grab Sam's hand that he was flaying about and gripped it tightly for a few minutes so he would not feel so alone.

Sam's hand was captured in a strong hold and he tried to pull away at first but somewhere deep down in his mind he knew that touch and knew it meant safety and comfort. He whined when Dean had to let go so he could drive and sobbed loud enough for Dean to hear, like he had lost his best friend. His emotions were all over the place and he could not control the ups and downs they were causing him.

"Make it stop Dean, please, just make it stop…Put me out of my misery…" he moaned out as he wrapped his arms around his body trying to stop it from shaking so hard.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter when he heard Sam asking to be killed. He clenched his jaw tightly and pressed his lips in a tight line not liking what his brother was pleading for him to do. The miles rolled away under the tires of the Impala until Dean saw the exit he wanted. He slowed, taking the ramp, and stopped at the top, waiting for the light to change. The tires squealed when Dean gunned it after the light changed green. He took the quickest route to the salvage yard and twenty minutes later turned onto the road that it was located. Dean let out a deep breath as he saw the lighted sign ahead of him. The Impala slowed as Dean turned through the gates of the salvage yard and headed for the front of the house.

It was midafternoon and Bobby was in the garage working on a car when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pull up the driveway. He walked out wiping his hands on a rag and headed for the house. He frowned when he saw Dean helping Sam from the back and wondered if he had been injured from the looks of him.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted him, his face showing worry and trepidation. "Can you help me by taking Sam inside and let him lay down on the couch?"

"Sure Dean, what's wrong with him?" he asked helping get Sam up the steps and to the door.

"Nothing that needs looked at, he just needs to lay down and rest."

He frowned when Dean stopped at the door and gestured for him to continue inside with Sam as he stood on the porch looking in.

Dean was pacing the porch when Bobby came back out, leaving the door opened so they could hear Sam, and looked at him with a critical eye.

"Wanna tell me what's going on with you and Sam?" Bobby asked cautiously. "Why do you look like death warmed over twice for that matter, and you're acting like one of those sparkly vampires that can't come into the house without a special invite. And while we're at it, how'd you get out of Hell?"

"It's a long story Bobby," Dean sighed as he wiped a hand down his face. "Might as well take a seat."

Bobby moved to sit on the old swing at the end of the porch and watched Dean lean against the wall of the house and slide down to sit on the porch and stretched his legs out in front of him as he rolled his head against the wall trying to relieve the tightness in his neck. He rested his hands in his lap and drew in a few deep breaths.

"Hell was hell. All the time I was there, the demons tortured me every way imaginable and then some," Dean started as his eyes glazed and he went back there. "I had almost given up, but a demon came to me and offered to get me out. I never would have believed it if I wasn't there. When I got out, I found Sam, but I'll get to him later. I had to find my body before going to him and once I did, I used a spell to put my soul back into it…"

Bobby butted in, "Hang on now, you weren't a ghost walking around down there. I know how ghost stuff works and that ain't it boy. Tell it straight, how did you get your soul from Hell to your body?"

"Well, you see, that demon put my soul in a body, a dead one, to get out of Hell so I could get to my real body. And then I used a spell to transfer into my own. I know it sounds crazy and all, but that was the only way to do it. I went to Sam and we talked things out. Being in Hell that long, it changed me Bobby. How could it not."

"You were gone five months Dean."

"For you it was five months, for me it was fifty years of torture every single day and every day I died only to come back in one piece the next day so they could start all over again. I'm still me, just a little different."

"How different?"

"Hell chances a person's soul, how could it not. But I fought it and wouldn't give in. It really seemed they wanted to break me and make me start torturing souls than actually turning me into a full demon. Part of my soul was changed, corrupted, I guess maybe. I'm part demon, but I still have part of my humanity. Sam called me a hybrid. I guess that's as good a label as any." Dean shrugged. He looked into Bobby's unreadable face watching him weigh out everything he had been told. He looked away before continuing. "If you want us to leave, I will. I'll find some place safe for Sam and me to hole up."

"I ain't said anything yet, but if you think I'd turn Sam away for some reason when he's as sick as he is, you're more of an idjit than I thought." Bobby replied looking over the young man he thought of as a son.

Before either could say anything else, a wail echoed from the house making both men jump up to run inside. Bobby hurried to Sam's side where he lay in the floor in front of the couch. Sam's back was arching upward off the floor, only to drop down hard. Dean ran through the door and stopped suddenly when he stepped into a devil's trap. He heard Sam cry his name and with determination, he forced himself forward slowly. Finally, Dean broke free from the trap even though it sent severe pain through every part of his body, and hurried to Sam, dropping by his side.

"I'm here Sammy," Dean called to him grabbing his shoulders to hold him down and keep him from hurting himself.

"What do we need to do?" Bobby asked as he watched Dean minister to his brother. He saw a pinched look on Dean's face and figured the warding for the house was affecting him in some way.

"We need to get him downstairs to the panic room. Do you still have that cot down there?"

"Yes, you get his upper body and I'll get his legs."

Dena and Bobby carefully lifted Sam's twitching body between them and moved into the kitchen to the door to the basement. After getting the door open, Dean let Bobby go first and tried to take the brunt of the Sam's weight. They stopped at the panic room door and Bobby lowered Sam's legs so he could open the heavy door.

"We're almost there Sammy," Dean mumbled to him as he adjusted his hold on Sam. He stepped into the room and would have dropped Sam if Bobby had not caught him when Dean stumbled as he entered the room. "Take him Bobby," Dean groaned as he stumbled to grab the table for support. He huffed out hard breaths as he fought the intense, rolling, spikes of pain that made him feel weak and sick.

"Dean are you okay?" Bobby asked him as he got Sam on the cot and made him comfortable.

"I'm fine," Dean grunted shuffling to the cot with the help of a chair he slid across the floor and plopped down beside Sam. He took Sam's hands and leaned over to mumble softly in his ear while fighting the need to throw up. The pain was building in his head, but he was not leaving Sam when he needed him.

"Dean, I'll stay here with him. Why don't you step out for a bit, I can see you're hurting son," Bobby offered seeing Dean's reaction to being in the room. He saw the doubt cross Dean's face as he gazed at Sam as he moaned softly. "Go on boy, you won't do your brother any good to pass out yourself." Bobby could see how much pain Dean was in and pushed him toward the door and through it when Dean started to falter and could not do it himself.

"Just for a few minutes, but I'll be back," Dean replied. The pain started to subside as soon as he was out of the room. He leaned against the wall outside the panic room and looked in to see Bobby had taken his place in the chair and was talking to Sam. He scrubbed his face with a hand and felt tears on it that he wiped away. Dean headed back upstairs to see what Bobby had to drink. He needed a whiskey and thought he would spike another drink with only a tablespoon of his weaker blood to help Sam wean himself from his addiction. He could not stand to see him suffering like this and wanted to help ease his pain and hopefully make it easier on him.

Dean found Bobby's bottle of Jack Daniels in the back of the cabinet, since the one sitting out was empty and pulled it out to pour a small amount into a cup. He tossed his head back and downed it quickly feeling the burn all the way down into his stomach. He coughed and cleared his throat before going to the fridge and looking inside. He found a bottle of ginger ale and took it out. After opening the drink, Dean cut his finger and let what he thought was a tablespoon of blood drip into the bottle. Instead of shaking it, he looked in a drawer and found a straw to stir it, hoping this would help Sam.

spn

Bobby turned when he heard steps at the doorway and saw Dean stagger slightly as he stiffened and willed his body to move forward.

"Dean, you shouldn't be in here," Bobby chastised him. "Look how it is affecting you."

"I have to Bobby, he's my brother," Dean hissed as he fought the pounding in his head. "It's my job to take care of him."

"I think we'll have to restrain him. The thrashing is getting worse and I can hardly hold him down."

"You go get some cuffs and I'll see if I can get some fluids in him," Dean responded gratefully dropping into the chair that Bobby vacated. "Hey Sammy, hey bro, I got you something to drink," Dean cooed to him as he lifted his head and put the bottle of soda to his lips. "C'mon, help me out a little, I think you'll like it." He let a little liquid trickle into Sam's parted lips and watched to see if he would swallow. "That's it Sammy, you're doing good," Dean praised him when he saw he was getting most of it down. Dean was careful not to give him too much as Sam stirred slightly and tried to reach for the bottle. "I got ya Sammy, let me do the heavy lifting," Dean teased. "You can have a little more." Dean allowed Sam to drink about half the bottle and hoped he would not throw it up. If his body was craving blood, he hoped the small amount in the drink would appease it somewhat.

"Found four pairs of cuffs," Bobby said. He went to the foot of the cot and took Sam's boots off and pulled his jeans legs down for padding, before cuffing his ankles to the cot.

Once Dean sat the drink aside and wiped the spill from Sam's face, he helped Bobby wrap Sam's wrist in elastic bandages so the cuffs would not cut into them. With his hands cuffed to the bed, they stood back and checked the youngest Winchester out. He was relieved to see the spiked soda seemed to be helping. Dean rubbed his head and worked on drawing in breaths of air. He grabbed a blanket and spread it over Sam's still form before backing away knowing he could not stay any longer.

"C'mon son, you've done all you can for now, why don't we go get a cup of coffee and you finish telling me what's going on with you two boys," Bobby told him putting a hand in the middle of his back to give him the extra help he needed to get out of the room. He pushed steadily until they were out the door and into the basement. "Wait here, I'll move the cot closer to the doorway, so you won't have to go all the way inside." Bobby stepped back into the room and grunted as he pulled the cot toward the door and Dean. He stopped a couple of feet away and straightened up rubbing his back. "There, maybe that'll help if you're not directly under the devil's trap."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean mumbled looking down at his brother's twitching form.

Dean did not put up any resistance as he let Bobby help him from the panic room and huffed out a sigh of relief once he was in the basement. He did not know what Bobby had done to the room, but it definitely worked. If he was one hundred percent demon, he could not have even gotten into it. He trudged up the stairs and into the kitchen wondering how long it would take Sam to detox from the blood and if he would even survive it.

The withdrawals were doing a number on him physically and he had no idea how it was affecting him mentally. Dean dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Bobby move around the kitchen fixing coffee for them. He was exhausted, but he could not let himself rest yet, he needed to look after his brother. He tried to ignore the annoying buzzing in his head from the warding protecting the house. It was weakening him, but not to the point he was incapacitated. He rubbed his head absently trying to dismiss the pain.

A/N: Bobby learns some of the brothers' stories and of course won't turn them away. They're his boys, after all. Dean is having a hard time being in Bobby's house but won't leave because of Sammy. Now, Sam has to face the withdrawals from the demon blood. Thank you for reading. Only three chapters to go in this story, but don't be sad there is another that will continue the brothers' journey. Reviews make my day. NC