A/N - Warning for some language on this one. Nothing major.
There was a thump from upstairs. Kelly was first up the stairs and Earl followed more slowly behind her. In the bedroom they found Dean curled up on the floor, clearly in agony.
"Dean! What are you doing? Did you fall out of bed?"
Earl went straight over to Dean and scooped him up as if he weighed nothing. He placed him, surprisingly gently, back on the bed, pulling the covers over him.
"Thanks Earl" Kelly said. Earl said nothing but went back to stand at his now customary position just outside the bedroom door. Kelly knew he had been suspicious of Dean from the start and the contents of the web site clearly hadn't helped. She was pretty curious herself, but her gut instinct was that Dean was not a threat to them, despite the strange goings on since this morning.
Dean was in a great deal of pain. He had woken up and tried to get out of the bed but had been too weak to stand, let alone walk and had just crumpled to the floor. His side was now on fire and he was panicking at how weak he was. How was he supposed to find Sam, let alone help him, in this state?
Kelly left the room briefly. When she came back she sat on the side of the bed and handed him a couple of pills. Dean was suspicious.
"What are they?"
"Just painkillers. I'm not trying to poison you or anything!"
"They won't put me to sleep will they?" Dean took them from her, but still didn't put them in his mouth.
"No, they won't, but you do need to get more sleep. Now come on, swallow – you'll feel better."
She held the glass of water out and Dean finally swallowed the pills along with a gulp of water. He was embarrassed to see his hand shaking as he handed the glass back.
"I've got to get out there and find my brother. Hey! Where's the laptop?" He looked accusingly at Kelly, who blushed slightly.
"Oh yeah. Well you fell asleep and it was gonna fall off the bed. I took it downstairs."
"Did you look at anything on it?"
Kelly looked Dean straight in the eye. "Yes I did. So did Earl."
"Oh"
"Yeah. So we were wondering why you would be looking up demons and stuff when your brother has gone missing. Wouldn't like to fill us in would you? 'Cos right now it all seems pretty strange."
***
Sam was starting to nod off when he heard the now familiar chuckling. His head snapped up the moment he heard it. And there was Jarveld, right in front of him. His feet and hands were going numb from the cold and the lack of circulation caused by the tightly bound ropes.
"I was just having a little chat with your dad Sam."
"Sure you were!" Sam glared at Jarveld.
"Sam, you don't seem to believe a word I say! I am hurt! But you know, I had a feeling you might not believe me. So this should convince you. I know the very last thing your father said to you before he died – so heart-warming!" Jarveld's tone was mocking. Sam remembered only too well what had passed between them before his father died. He couldn't believe this demon could possibly know about it. But Jarveld's next sentence confirmed he did. He was virtually laughing out the words "would you mind gettin' me a cup of caffeine?" Then he really was laughing.
"He sure loved you didn't he? Just think, he knew he was about to die and that was all he could think of to say to you!" Jarveld was clutching his sides laughing now, and something passing for tears was falling from his eyes.
"And you know what's even funnier? He had that long, emotional, loving conversation with Dean while you were gone – told him how proud he was of him! Guess we know which son he loved best, don't we Sam?"
"Shut up you bastard!" Sam's eyes stung but he was determined not to cry.
Jarveld came right up to Sam, and Sam could feel and smell his breath as he spoke.
"You know Sam, if you hadn't been given that special gift, your life would have been so different - so much better. Don't you think?"
"Get away from me! What the hell do you want?"
Jarveld moved around behind him, and the next thing he knew, the chair was being pushed towards the stove til his knees were just inches from the door. He could feel the heat through the denim of his jeans and was actually quite grateful for it. Though of course, he said nothing.
"I have to be going for a while. Thought you might like to sit by the stove – it's such a cold night isn't it?"
He was gone and Sam was again left alone. His mind was reeling. Jarveld really seemed to know everything about him and his family. It seemed like everything he said was true. Had his father really loved Dean more than him? He had sent him away to get coffee so he could talk to Dean alone – that much was true. But that was because of the big secret – and he knew all about that now. But why had he only told Dean he was proud of him? Hadn't he been proud of both of his sons? Jarveld was right! His father knew he was about to die and hadn't had a kind word for him – he had sent him away so he could talk to Dean alone! No! He pushed the thought away. It wasn't true! Jarveld was just playing with his mind. Conflicting thoughts kept reverberating around his head, tormenting him, until finally he became aware of a burning sensation at the front of his legs. The heat had been welcome at first, but now it was becoming unbearable, and he couldn't get away from it. Before he knew what he was doing, he heard himself calling out
"Jarveld!" And instantly Jarveld appeared by his side.
"Why Sam! I am so surprised to hear you calling for me! What can I do for you?"
"My legs are burning!" Sam gasped - the denim of his jeans started to smoulder.
Jarveld moved the chair away but the denim was still searingly hot against Sam's knees and shins. He was on the verge of passing out from the pain, but he was shocked awake by the splash of freezing water that Jarveld threw over his legs.
"There! Is that better Sam?"
Sam was bewildered. What could Jarveld want? He seemed to be torturing him but didn't ask for anything, so what was the point? As steam swirled up from the burnt denim in front of him, he had a temporary reprieve from the burning sensation on his legs, but he realised they must be blistered quite badly. Soon enough he was in agony again, and despite the icy coldness of the room, he started to both sweat and shiver.
"What? No 'thank you' Sam? I thought you were brought up better than that! No wait! You were hardly brought up at all were you? All that travelling from place to place, no roots, all those different schools. It's a wonder you ever made it to College! It's really very impressive Sam."
Jarveld revealed a mass of yellowed, pointed teeth in what Sam presumed, was supposed to be a grin.
"Oh Sam, my poor boy! You're shivering! Would you like me to push the chair back in front of the fire?"
"No!" Sam's teeth were chattering and he wondered if he might be going into shock as his body tried to deal with burns to his legs while the rest of him was freezing cold and his hands were completely numb.
"Some food then? You must be starving!"
Sam wondered how much longer before he found out what Jarveld wanted from him.
"I'm not hungry! Just tell me what you want."
"Now Sam – how ungrateful you are! I'm here to do you a favour and this is the thanks I get? Tsk, tsk. What would your mother say? Oh, but then, you wouldn't know would you? Since you never knew her at all. That's just so sad I could cry!"
"Shut up about my mother, you bastard!" Sam was starting to feel dizzy and had a strange sensation that he was floating out of his body. He fell unconscious to the sound of Jarveld's mocking voice.
***
Dean looked up at two expectant faces and knew he was going to have to come clean with these people.
"Well you might as well both sit down then – not that you're going to believe me anyway." He started to talk.
By the time he finished, both Kelly and Earl were looking at him with stunned expressions on their faces and the room was silent. Dean looked back at them, trying to gauge their reaction. It was pretty important that they believed him as he knew in his current state, he had no way of finding Sam without their help.
The silence was becoming uncomfortable, until finally Kelly spoke.
"That's quite a story Dean. Why should we believe it?"
"You mean you want proof? I don't have any. But if you help me find Sam, I can guarantee you'll believe me when you see the demon that has him."
"And how are we supposed to find your brother and this demon?" Earl asked. The guy seemed to have a permanent frown on his face.
"That's what I was looking up on the laptop. He will have taken Sam somewhere remote and dark. Are there any caves or abandoned buildings around here? Somewhere nobody ever goes?"
Earl pondered and the frown deepened as he thought.
"There's old Ma Hudson's place. Nobody's been near it in years. Not sure if it's even still standing."
"Well it sounds like that's where we need to go." Dean shifted uneasily.
"Uh, Earl, I wouldn't ask normally but I can't do this on my own. Would you help me look for my brother?" Dean absolutely hated having to ask a civilian for help but what choice did he have?
After a quick look and a nod from Earl, Kelly replied for both of them.
"We'll help you find your brother Dean. I can't say I believe you about demons and such, but someone stabbed you, and someone had to have driven that second car here, so I'm willing to believe that your brother is around here somewhere and that he may be in trouble. That'll have to do for now. Is that okay?" Kelly looked at Dean and saw genuine relief and gratitude on his face. She gave him a warm smile.
"Are those painkillers kicking in yet? They're pretty strong."
Dean had to admit the pain had reduced considerably.
"Yeah, actually they are. What were they anyway?"
Kelly looked uncomfortable.
"They're prescription painkillers. My husband was taking them before he died…"
"Your husband? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry or anything." Dean spotted the ring on Kelly's finger for the first time.
"It's okay. He had cancer. Died a year ago."
Dean felt embarrassed and awkward. This was Sam's territory, he'd know what to say.
"Kelly, I am really sorry."
Kelly became businesslike and started fussing with his pillows.
"Dean, it's nearly morning. You'll be more use to your brother if you get some more rest and then we will head out to the Hudson place when it's daylight – deal?"
"Well it doesn't seem like I have much choice here, does it? I just hope Sam can hold out til we find him." Dean's only solace was that he knew the demon wouldn't be in a hurry to kill his brother, but it was small comfort when he also knew that if Sam resisted, it would have no compunctions about torturing him to get what it wanted.
Kelly couldn't fail to notice the concern on Dean's face. Clearly he was very close to his brother. That was obvious. But this story of demons and hunting was too far-fetched to be believable. She felt fairly sure all they would find when they went looking for Sam, would be a young man sleeping off a hangover. Although that didn't explain how Dean had come to be stabbed in her barn. It was all very mysterious and not at all what she was used to on the remote farm.
Dean was already beginning to fall asleep so she went to turn the bedside lamp off. Casting a last glance at his face, she was struck by his appearance for the first time. Asleep, the frown lines on his forehead were smoothed out. There were tiny crows' feet at the corners of his eyes – eyes that were framed with impossibly long lashes. He had a scattering of freckles over his cheeks and nose and full, almost feminine lips, and there was a long ago healed scar just visible through the light stubble on his chin. She shook herself out of her reverie, feeling strangely guilty, and turned off the lamp, leaving Dean to sleep on, oblivious to her scrutiny.
***
A stinging slap across the face jolted Sam awake and snapped his head sideways. Straight away he realised he was no longer tied to the chair, and there was a thick blanket wrapped around him. His legs were still burning but the circulation seemed to be coming back to his hands. Again he had to wonder what the hell this Jarveld wanted. None of this made any sense and he was starting to feel very disorientated, with no sense of how long he had been held captive.
Jarveld produced a small table and placed it in front of Sam. On the table, there was a plate of something resembling stew with a knife and fork beside it and a beaker containing what looked like milk. On another, smaller, plate there were three cookies. As the steam rising from the stew drifted towards him, Sam had to admit it smelt pretty good.
"Come Sam, tuck in! This is all very healthy stuff to help keep your energy levels up."
Sam's heart sank as he wondered just how long he was going to be here if Jarveld was concerned about keeping him well fed. Or maybe it was just a trick? Maybe the food was poisoned? But what would be the point of that? Of course nothing Jarveld did seemed to have a point to it.
Sam hesitated. Jarveld didn't seem interested in killing him – not straight away anyway. So the food probably wasn't poisoned. The aroma from the stew finally persuaded him to try it. Very tentatively he picked up the fork and speared a chunk of meat, gingerly putting it into his mouth and wincing as the hot salty gravy found its way to the bite wound on his tongue. He started chewing and found it tender and very tasty – it was beef. Encouraged, he went back for more and in no time had finished off the plate. Suffering no immediate ill-effects, he turned to the milk and cookies. They too disappeared rapidly. The hot stew was warming him up from within and he felt drowsy and sated. Very drowsy actually – and quite happy and comfortable in fact. Sam's head was starting to roll around. He was feeling quite euphoric and grinning foolishly. The food wasn't poisoned but it must have been drugged! Sam was hazily aware of it but didn't seem to care anymore. He started to giggle for no particular reason.
Jarveld put a huge taloned hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Well Sam, I see you enjoyed that? And you seem to be in very good spirits too! How nice to see you smiling! Not something you have done too much of this last year I'm guessing? Wouldn't you like to feel this way all the time Sam?"
"I feel GREAT!" Sam flung his arms out wide but they immediately flopped down to his sides while his head fell forward, chin coming to rest on his chest.