AN: So yeah…I suppose this is kinda AU because original Charlie is still alive. Chuck isn't God, or at least that hasn't been revealed. I'd prefer he wasn't though, honestly lol. I preferred the mystery of the location of God as well as the mystery of why blah blah blah. I haven't written Jack into this story because I didn't want there to be an easy way out for anyone and I didn't want to draw the focus away from the brothers. Everything else, for all intents and purposes, should be normal…? I dunno. Just enjoy the ride…

.~*~.

"What the hell is that?" Sam asked when he nearly smacked into the flexible aluminum duct that was running from somewhere up on the top level near the exit, down to a drain in the floor where Sam was standing. It looked well-sealed over the drain with caulk and duct tape—because apparently one or the other wouldn't have been good enough—and seemed to have the same set up where it met the underside of the top-level floor.

"That is my ticket back in here," Dean told him as he walked past him with arms full of thick, clear plastic sheets.

"What?"

"I'm making a warm room."

Sam furrowed his brows for a moment as he thought about what he meant. "A decontamination room?"

"Yahtzee."

"Dean, you are not going outside!" Sam protested. "It's too dangerous!"

"Hence the warm room, Sammy," he said as he ascended to the top of the metal staircase, not bothering to look away from the task at hand.

"It's not just about the possibility of contamination," Sam continued as he began to climb the steps. "Whoever's still out there are most likely desperate for whatever they can get their hands on. They could be armed…"

"And you think I won't be?" Dean retorted, now glancing over at Sam as he came up to the last set of steps.

"I think…" Sam suddenly seemed out of breath and Dean was quick to recognize it. He dropped the plastic he had been unfolding and rushed down to Sam who seemed as though he might fall back down the steps he'd so far climbed.

"Damnit, Sam!" Dean said as he pulled his brother to him, sitting them both down on a stair. "This is exactly why I gotta go out there!"

"I won't let you," Sam argued as he breathed like he'd just run a marathon.

"It's not up for debate!" Dean replied. "You need medicine and we don't have it here. You need oxygen!"

"You think any of that's gonna be out there?" Sam asked with raised brows. "You think no one's already taken all of that stuff by now?"

"If they have, then I'll find it and I'll take it!"

"And they might fight back," Sam argued, the fight leaving him like his breath had. "They could hurt you. You could get infected. You could get killed, and then what? Then I'm left here without you…"

"Sammy…" The fight left Dean as well now. He turned on the stair to face his brother and put his hands on either side of Sam's face to make him look at him. "If I don't go out there and something happens to you, I'm left here without you."

Sam let out a breathy laugh. "I'm not gonna die," he replied as he met his eyes. "I don't have the COVID."

"If we don't get you the proper treatment, hell yes you could get really bad off. You know what people have been saying on those forums."

"It's not that bad."

"Not yet!" Dean retorted.

"The people that've died from it got COVID too. That or they just didn't have anyone to help them when it got bad. You're helping me, Dean. You're taking care of me. Like you always do."

"I'm not gonna let it get bad, Sam, that's why I gotta go out there. This is how I gotta take care of you." He looked deeply into Sam's eyes, pleading with his own. "You gotta let me take care of you, Sammy." He finished it by pressing his lips to Sam's, pulling him close as he kissed him carefully.

"Dean…" Sam pushed him lightly away. "I'll get you sick."

Dean smirked. "If I could get sick with this thing, I would've already." He met Sam's eyes again. They were wet with unshed tears. "Hey," Dean comforted and ran a hand through Sam's hair. "I can handle whatever's out there. You know that."

"But…"

"I'll be armed. I'll be wearing protective gear; got that mask outta storage that has its own oxygen supply."

"Why can't I just use that then?"

"Because there ain't enough for that, Sam, you know that. And you need more than oxygen."

"How will I know you're okay?"

"Walkies," Dean replied. "I'll take two, just in case one breaks, okay?"

"What if you need help? I should go with you."

"No way," he replied flatly. "You're sick, Sam. It's too much of a risk." Sam scrunched his face up. "Besides, you'd just slow me down," he said with a smirk.

"You're such a jerk."

"And you're such a bitch. Just let me do this, okay? I'm gonna hotwire the first car I come across. Gonna ride out to Mankato, check out the hospital there. Go hit Downs, shoot up to Smith County then come straight back here."

"You don't have to go to Downs. You don't have to go to more than one hospital."

"You're right. I don't. But if I don't find what we need, then I'll have to. Each of those places isn't much more than twenty miles from here. I won't be far, and I won't be gone long, okay?"

Sam thought about it for a moment. "You've got one hour."

"Sam…"

"No, Dean. That should be all you need. The longer you stay out there the more dangerous it could be."

"An hour ain't enough time. That's not even enough travel time."

"Then I guess you better drive fast," Sam replied with raised brows. Dean looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment.

"You gonna sit around all day or are you gonna help me get this crap set up?"

.~*~.

Sam's hands were shaking as he tested the pulley system he'd made for when Dean would return. It would allow Dean to put any materials he returned with into a large crate and be lowered directly from the top level down to the map room floor. From there it could be transferred to the map table, which Sam had disinfected yet again and put red tape down the middle so there'd be an area for contaminated and decontaminated items.

He'd set up a disinfectant kit on the side where the contaminated stuff would start out. Gloves were laid out and ready to be adorned. Worn out old clothing would work as a protective outer layer that could be removed after decontamination was complete, just to be safe. Dean would most likely just burn them when they were done.

There was a big trash can beside the table lined with double trash bags, ready for any packaging and used paper towels (and maybe clothing) that would need to be disposed of. Dean would force Sam to a hot shower afterward because he wasn't taking any chances. So Sam had thought of everything. The makeshift decontamination tent at the door was rigged with a hose that was hooked up to the hot water downstairs. Sam had two towels and a change of clothes laid out over the railing outside of it for Dean. There were towels and clean clothes waiting in the shower room as well for Sam.

Now that everything was ready, Sam was getting restless. He found it difficult to think about the fact that Dean was out there by himself. No backup. As much as Sam wanted to check in with him, he tried to hold back and wait for Dean to initiate the contact. Meanwhile, he couldn't stop the images from playing over in his head…

.~*~.

The walk from the bunker into town was eerily quiet. Dean held his bag close at his side as he took everything in. He'd stumbled into some apocalypse worlds in his lifetime and this wasn't too much different. At least nothing was deteriorated or on fire, which was nice, he supposed. Not enough time had passed for it to get that way. At worst there were broken shop windows and overflowing public trashcans which luckily weren't getting anymore full, with the lack of population, especially since there was no one picking up trash at this point. Not there anyway. He couldn't speak for anyplace else.

Dean hadn't seen another soul in all of Lebanon. They were there, but they weren't outside, and Dean counted himself lucky for that much. He took advantage of that fact by climbing through some of the broken shop windows to see if there was anything left to take. The pharmacy didn't have a whole lot of much, but he was able to find a box of albuterol canisters, and with some extra rummaging came across inhalers and spacers in a taped-up shipping box that had gone untouched.

"That's a start," Dean said to himself with a small grin. Not that anyone would've seen it through the full-face mask he wore. The rubber and plastic monstrosity sealed around his face and had a black hose the ran from the mouth area around to Dean's back where the oxygen container was worn like a backpack.

He bagged his loot and made his way back outside, still being cautious for any surprise visitors. There was an olive-green VW bug parked in front. Dean looked at it with disgust and kept walking. Within another five minutes, he came upon a much newer Impala than his own, which of course meant that it was nowhere near as gorgeous but would have to do. Dean guessed it was likely a 2003 model as he pulled the wires from under the console. At least it was clean.

While he was down there, he spotted the corner of what looked like a driver's license sticking out from under the floor mat. It was the little blue caduceus on it that caught his eye. He let go of the wire with one hand and pulled the card out to look at it. It had some random information on it, a broken top piece that indicated it was at some point attached to something, and in big letters across the bottom it said 'PHARMACIST'.

Dean's eyes widened for a moment. He took a second look around the inside of the car to see if there was anything else that might be helpful in there but found nothing. "Ah well," he said, then went back to the wires. He got the car to start, grinning at his accomplishment before slipping the rest of the way into the driver seat. He threw his bag into the passenger seat and shut the door, then pulled out his walkie.

"Simon to Garfunkel," he said with a grin. After a moment he heard the other end pick up.

"Dude, I can barely understand you."

"Oh yeah," he said when he remembered about the mask. "I got a car," he said clearly and loudly so Sam could understand. "Heading out."

"How is it out there? Did you bump into anyone?"

"Haven't seen a single person out here," he replied. "It's like a ghost town. It is a ghost town."

"Might not be like that outside of Lebanon."

"Maybe not, but I won't go in if it seems dangerous, okay?"

"Is that a promise?"

"Okay, I won't go in if it seems more dangerous than I can handle. That I can promise."

"You let me know when you're there. You've got forty minutes left."

"No way, dude. Time starts now that I got a car."

"That wasn't the deal!"

"C'mon, Sammy. It's gonna take half an hour to get there. I might be able to cut that in half if there's a clear enough path to go eighty the whole way."

"Wrecking isn't being careful either."

"Then I guess you should give me some leeway on the time, huh?"

Sam sighed. Dean smiled. "Fine. One hour, starting now. Please don't make me regret it."

"Love you too, Sam."

"I love you. Get back here soon."

.~*~.

Mankato seemed to be as dead as Lebanon. That was worrisome since the population was around four times that of their own. It wasn't necessarily deteriorated, but it seemed a bit more trashed than Lebanon had been. Maybe it was because they had a bigger population of stray animals. Where do all these loose papers come from that blow down the streets during apocalypses? Dean wondered.

When he pulled up to the hospital every parking spot was filled, and some not-parking spots as well. But no people were anywhere to be seen. Dean pulled the pilfered Impala right up to the entrance of the emergency room. The doors swooshed open and Dean looked inside from the car. There didn't seem to be anyone there.

Perfect.

He put it in park and grabbed his bag, then hopped over the hood to get to the doorway. He glanced around one last time before entering. The cold hit him unexpectedly. As he made his way in, he noticed the body of an elderly man stooped over on his side in the waiting room seating. Instinct almost had him going over to check the old man, but he knew he was gone. There wasn't anything this hospital could do for him and there was nothing he could do either. There didn't seem to be anyone else around. Not until he started up the halls, anyway. There were beds lining the walls, holding the corpses of the viruses' victims.

Dean swallowed. He took a deep breath and thanked God he had his own air supply. He needed to find a supply room before his luck turned this into an episode of The Walking Dead. He pulled out his walkie. "You there, Garfunkel?" he asked as he tried to ignore the bodies now, searching for any door that wasn't a room full of death.

"Hey! You get there okay?" Sam sounded anxious.

"O' course I did," he said smoothly. "Walking through the ER now."

"You see anyone yet?"

"Yeah. No. Not really. It's pretty…dead here."

"Okay. Good. I mean…"

"I know what you mean." He turned when he came to a door that said, 'staff only'. "Hey, I think I found something. I'll hit you back when I'm back in the car, okay?"

"Okay. Yeah. Um…should I fix you something to eat for when you get back."

"God no, Sammy, just leave that to me, okay?"

"I'm not that bad a cook."

"Yes you are."

"Thanks a lot." Dean could hear the grin in his voice.

"Really though, I don't think I'm gonna be too hungry for a while after this."

Sam was silent for a moment. "How bad is it?"

"I'll tell you when I'm back."

.~*~.

Trying to kick open a door that had drugs and other fun things inside was proving to be too painful to do. Dean pulled out his lock-pick kit and had it open in under a minute. His right foot asked why he didn't do that in the first place. Once inside the room he flipped on the light switch.

"Jackpot," he said when the rather large room lit up before him. The walls were lined with pharmaceutical medicine, most of what Dean didn't even know was for. He grabbed the stuff he did recognize, dropping it into his bag as he continued on. Prophylactics, pain killers, medical marijuana—and maybe they didn't need that, but why the hell not—and eventually he began to notice a system in how they stored the different medications. He went back and realized that all the pain killers were grouped together on the shelves alphabetically. Same with prophylactics. So, when he came across inhalers, he just scooped everything else around it into the bag.

When he finished with that, he turned to see another door within the room. It wasn't locked. He opened it and lights automatically clicked on. This room was smaller but filled with portable medical equipment. "Man, I'm gonna need a bigger bag…" Once his was full, he opted for the shipping boxes that were holding a ridiculous amount of tubing. He dumped them out onto the floor and started grabbing for what he thought they might need. He grabbed two nebulizers, just in case one broke down. An apnea machine. All the filters and tubes and fluids each thing needed in large quantities. There was a shelf with emergency defibrillator kits. He hesitated but took one anyway. God forbid they need it.

Once he had all he could carry in one trip, Dean started to head out of the room. There right inside of the door was a wooden box hung on the wall at head level. It almost looked like an old dart board. He couldn't help the feeling of curiosity. Once he set the box and his duffle down, he pulled open the box.

Keys.

Not just any keys. Vehicle keys. Probably staff vehicle keys. He grabbed a set blindly and shoved it in his pocket before heading out with his procured items. When the emergency room doors opened as he approached, there was a man and woman standing on the other side of the Impala he'd parked there.

Dean stopped.

Tbc…