A/N: Yes, I know it's been a really long time since I've updated this and I'm hoping to rectify that situation regularly over the next few weeks. It has been a very strange half year for me which just seems to get stranger and stranger with each passing day. I'd like to thank everyone that sent me messages wondering where the hell I've been and I'd like to say that I appreciate it more than you can all possibly know. Thanks for all the patience!! Oh, and I hope this all makes sense.

Chapter 10

"Sam…"

The huskily whispered sound of his name barely breaking the silence in the room did little to start pulling the weary, young hunter from the blissful arms of sleep that had so lovingly embraced him and started pulling him close to her breast, until he realized who the dry, raspy, and nearly inaudible voice was actually coming from. It may have been the voice that began his journey back to the waking world but it was the unusual vibrations he felt against his shoulder that really started bringing him around. The memories of the past few hours started replaying themselves in his tired mind like a bad horror movie that was most definitely not going the ways of a happy ending as it slowly drifted back into the realm of consciousness. It had been a very long, very exhausting and at times very scary night and even though the sun had barely started to rise in the late December sky as he finally started trailing off to sleep, it was a night that Sam knew was still far from over yet.

******************************************

Dean may have fallen asleep barely moments after his heavy head had landed on the feather-soft pillow his doting baby brother had laid it down on hours before but his body had had plenty of other fun-filled ideas that would keep Sam's nerves on edge for next hours to come. The water Sam had practically forced his brother to drink had decided it didn't want to be sloshing around in the stagnant heat of Dean's queasy stomach while waiting for the ok to continue its inevitable trek through his fevered body and when it realized the stomach's feelings in regards to its presence were mutual, said water that had been reluctantly swallowed in the first place had innocently started heading right back out the way it had come not long after Dean had not so much fallen asleep but passed out, kindly offering to take the remaining unwanted contents along with it as it began its steady retreat.

Sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed next to Dean, Sam hadn't taken his eyes off his brother since he had rolled onto his good side and drew his knees up nearly to his chest and what started out as a subtle clenching of Dean's stomach muscles beneath the sweat-soaked t-shirt Sam had helped him into was the exact warning the worried sibling had been waiting for to signify that the games were about to begin. Sam had had just enough time to roll his brother's limp torso off of his right side and onto his damaged left to allow his flushed face to hang over the edge of the bed and into the awaiting trash can Penny had quickly held up, the pain of taking most of his weight onto his freshly stitched wound finally eliciting some sort of reaction when a pained grunt he just couldn't suppress was bellowed out from what had turned into a near comatose state.

The grunt had been immediately followed by an off-colored stream of fluids along with nearly everything else that may have been lingering in Dean's stomach at the time, which in Sam's eyes didn't look like much more then the water he had just taken in. It was clear to Sam that his brother had neither eaten nor drank anything recently and that only seemed to fuel his fears more. Dehydration didn't need the jump start Dean had handed to it on a silver platter by denying his body the absolute necessities of life and with werewolf poison now running an undaunted course through his veins, Sam was hard-pressed to figure out just how he was going to keep his brother alive until the preternatural sickness could run its course. The starting gun had now been fired and it was off to the races.

It had only taken a few minutes for Dean's stomach to purge itself of what little contents it had held but that didn't stop it from continually trying to expel matter that just wasn't there over the next hour or so and as much as Sam wanted to get more water into his brother's increasingly weakened body, he knew by the almost violent dry heaves plaguing Dean as he tried to sleep, it just wouldn't stay in long enough to do any good. With his fever slowly and steadily climbing, Sam knew he had to do something and at nearly four in the morning, he decided he had to turn to the only person that really could help him.

"I know it's late… or early and I hate to ask you this Penny…" he hesitantly started to say as he looked into the eyes of the half-asleep woman that had taken up a spot on the bed next to Dean to wipe the fever-induced perspiration from his brow away with a cool, wet cloth. She had wanted to remove the now soaked shirt clinging to Dean's skin in order to lay cold rags across his chest but Sam just couldn't let her do that, not considering what was hidden under that saturated tee.

"Whatever you need Sam, just say it," Penny quickly responded, eager to help in any way she could.

"Do you think you can get some ice? If I can't get him to drink anything, maybe I can at least get him to suck on ice cubes," he nearly begged, not wanting to sound frantic but being unable to hide his concern.

"Sam, maybe we should just take him to the hospital. He's really sick and I think…"

"No, he'd kill me if I took him to the emergency room," Sam cut her off, knowing the emergency room wouldn't be able to treat anything but the symptoms. No, Sam had to call someone that could treat the cause. Once that was done, the symptoms would take care of themselves. "Trust me; he'd much prefer I take care of him right here."

"But…"

"Ice, please?" Sam's tone had gone from begging to downright groveling and Penny knew it was pointless to argue with him when she saw the determined look on his face.

"Alright, I'll get the ice. Anything else?"

Sam pondered the question for a moment and realized that if he sent the girl out for ice only, she'd be back before he could even pull his phone out of his pocket to make the call he intended on making to the one person he vowed he'd never speak to again. "Can you get some chewable Tylenol too? If I can't get pills into him maybe…"

"I hear yah Sam," she announced and was up off the bed and halfway out the door before Sam could finish verbalizing the thought. "Grape or cherry?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled back. He honestly didn't think traditional medication would work but it was well worth the try, especially when he considered the fact that his call might not be readily answered.

"I'll be back as fast as I can," Penny called back as she closed the door gently behind her, mumbling something about Sam not looking all that well either and bringing breakfast back with her as she went.

With the eagerly helpful woman temporarily out of the way, Sam opened his phone and started to dial the number he had tried so hard to forget, only to close it again after the first few numbers he had keyed in. Caller ID was a blessing but it could also be a curse and he knew the second his name flashed across the intended recipient's screen, the call would probably just be ignored. He knew that because he would probably do exactly the same. If the topic of conversation was that important, the person placing the unlikely call would just have to leave a message and hope the call was returned. He also knew that while his own number would be easily ignored, Dean's number would probably be answered immediately with an overly authoritative tone and a healthy amount of anger demanding to know where he was and what the hell was doing.

Sam hated the idea of disturbing Dean now that his stomach had finally calmed and he seemed to be sleeping relatively soundly when a search of not only his brother's duffel bag but his coat and pants pockets yielded nothing but loose change and age old lint but he really didn't have any other choice. "Dean, can you hear me?" He asked as he gave him a little nudge with the tip of his finger.

"Huh?" Was the partially muttered response he gave indicating that he could.

"Dean, I need your phone, where is it?" Sam asked him in an overly beseeching tone.

"My bag?" Dean slurred his response in more of a question than an answer and tried lifting his arm to point in the direction he thought the bag to be but gave up when he couldn't raise any more than a finger off the bed.

"No it's not. It's not in your coat either," Sam continued to question, giving his brother another quick poke when it looked like he had already fallen back to sleep. "Think Dean, where did you leave it?'

"Car… maybe… why?" As sick as he was, Dean could clearly hear the urgency in his little brother's voice and not liking the sound of it, turned his head a bit in Sam's direction but failed in his attempt to open his eyes to look at him. The failed effort did not go unnoticed by the younger man either.

"You need help Dean and I can't give you the help you need. I have to call Dad…"

"No. No Dad," the words were emphatic and they were spoken with a clarity that surprised Sam and even angered him a bit.

"What's it been, a little over 24 hours since that thing gouged you and you already can't move? Lack of muscle control is usually one of the last things that happens Dean, not one of the first. Even if I call Dad now it'll take him half a day to get here from Utah and by then you might be…"

"I can move. See," Dean forced one eye open that he tried desperately to focus on his brother with and with nearly every ounce of strength he had in him, balled his hand into a fist and gave his sibling a feeble punch in the thigh. The action did little to help his cause and judging by the stiff lack of reaction he got from Sam, Dean knew it too. "Sammy, please… don't call him. I'll be ok, I just need some sleep."

"You'll be ok if you can just sleep? Do you even realize that you have a temperature of 103 and you stopped sweating a half hour ago? You know what that means don't you?"

"Means I need some water, little brother," Dean tried to jokingly shrug off what Sam was saying which only irritated the younger man more than he already was.

"Hmm, right. Did I forget to mention that you finally stopped trying to throw up your internal organs not too long ago too? You really think you can stomach some water?"

"Ahh Sam, funny pun. Stomach… water," Dean's continued aloofness at his own condition was clearly frustrating Sam and Sam had had enough of his brother's games.

"What the hell is going on between you and Dad that you'd rather die before you let me call him? It's not like you haven't had to nurse him through a night or two after a botched hunt," Sam demanded. Dean's refusal at reaching out to their father for help was not unusual but at the point he was at now, it was beginning to border on suicidal. "Unless you can give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't call him…"

"Because I'm your brother and I asked you not to," Dean flatly stated; the slight hint of humor in his tone totally absent now and replaced with a tinge of what Sam thought to be fear.

"Sorry Dean, you'll have to do better than that. Unless you can give me a valid reason for not calling Dad, the last person on the face of the planet that I ever really want to talk to again, I'm picking up that phone and I'll call him over and over until he finally answers."

"No you're not, Sam. Dad's on a hunt… an important hunt and you can't distract him, not with this."

"Damn it Dean, why not? What hunt could be more important than saving his own son's life?"

"Come on Sammy. Don't you think you're overreacting a little there?"

"No, I don't. Do you remember when Dad got ripped up by that werewolf back when we were kids and he was shaking so bad when he got back to the motel that he spilled what little holy water he had all over the floor before he could even use it?" Sam paused in his questions just long enough to acknowledge the slight nod Dean gave him before continuing, needing to know that his point was going to be taken as he tried to make it. "Do you remember him immediately calling Caleb and how sick he got before Caleb finally got there and brewed up that nasty concoction of wolfsbane and whatever else that crap was that smelled like shit and probably tasted even worse? Do you remember how quickly he recovered after he drank that potion?"

"Yeah, I remember. What're yah getting at?"

"You passed that point hours ago, that point Dad was at back then, but you already know that, don't you?" Sam said with a heavy sigh as a light bulb lit up in his head. "If you won't let me call Dad, at least let me call Caleb. Even if he can't come, he can maybe tell me what to do and I can make it myself."

"No he can't Sammy. That shit is poisonous and if you don't brew it just right… well, that'll leave you as an only child," Dean forced the words out through heavy, rapid breaths. "Besides, Caleb's with Dad. You call him and Dad'll find out I screwed this up again."

"Is that what you think? You think you screwed this up? Last time I checked there was one less werewolf terrorizing the world because you took it out, Dean. That doesn't sound like a screw up to me."

"I should have been more careful Sammy…" Dean's words were more and more slurred as they came from his lips and it was clear that he was fighting with all the strength he had just to stay awake. "I shouldn't have let my guard down after I shot him… if I had been paying attention, I probably would have seen her…"

"Wait a second… what did you just say?" Sam couldn't hide the shock in his exclamation when he processed what he thought he was hearing come out in his brother's fevered confession and as the realization hit him, he started nervously pacing the room as he mulled over what Dean had just let slip out over and over in his mind. "When you said you had to burn the bodies you didn't just misspeak, did you? There was more than one of them, wasn't there?"

"Maybe…" Dean mumbled and it was all the answer Sam needed.

"Damn it Dean, why did you go after a pair of werewolves by yourself? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Sam, please…" the older man whispered in an emotionally pained tone before continuing in a physically pained voice instead. "I didn't know there were two of them, I swear. If I had, I wouldn't have…"

"You're full of shit Dean. You would have gone after them both anyway to appease Dad and we both know it, you just would have been more careful when you did."

"… and that's why you can't call Dad. Dad can't know I royally fucked up again Sammy… he just can't."

"Fine, I won't call Dad but you are going to do everything I tell you to without complaining or I just drag your ass to the ER and let them deal with you... and you're gonna tell me exactly what happened yesterday."

"Do whatever you need to do little brother, as long as it doesn't involve Dad. I'll tell you the whole story later… I'm too tired right now to even think," Dean muttered from a barely conscious state now that the threat of their father being summoned had been quashed, the anxiety it created being what he had been using to keep himself somewhat coherent.

With the conversation clearly over for the moment and his own body on the brink of physical exhaustion, Sam took up a spot on the floor next to the bed with his back against the wall and rested his head against the mattress awaiting Penny's return with the much needed ice. The heavy, rapid breathing that had been coming from Dean while they spoke had calmed to a steadier, even sound and as Sam listened to the rhythmic inhaling and exhaling he found that he too was ready to fall into a deep sleep. The last thing Sam remembered hearing was the light snore that started coming from Dean until he heard his own name in his brother's voice and the last few hours came back to haunt him with a vengeance.

"Sam…" he heard his name but wasn't sure he was really hearing his name as much as he wasn't sure that the memories that had just played out in his head of his deathly ill brother were real or just a bad dream. The voice calling his name may not have been real, but the subtle shaking he felt against his side was and for the briefest of moments Sam was sure it must have been an small earthquake, until he heard the voice again and his tired mind realized that it wasn't an echo from his nightmare but his brother actually calling his name.

"Sammy… where are you?" Dean asked again, almost sounding confused.

"I'm right here Dean," the overly exhausted younger sibling quickly responded as he rubbed at his heavily bagged eyes with balled up fists that left his vision a total blur temporarily. He knew his head was mere inches from Dean's and what he heard next struck a chord of sheer terror in Sam's heart when his sight finally refocused and caught a glimpse of the wide eyes and haggard face directly in front of his own.

"Where? I can't see Sam… help me…" the words came out in harsh pants but were quickly cut off after the first few when the shaking increased steadily with each passing second and by the time Sam realized it was not an earthquake vibrating the entire bed but his brother's trembling that had suddenly escalated into violent convulsions, Dean was in the throes of a full blown seizure.

Sam couldn't move or breathe as he stood there helplessly watching his brother's body painfully contort in unnatural directions before finally going deathly still and the only thing that seemed to register with him was the dark spot staining the lower half of the t-shirt and the boxers covering Dean's body, the dark spot that spread out little by little the longer he stood there almost mesmerized by it. He had no idea how long he motionlessly stood gazing at the body on the bed that he was sure had given up its last bits of life with the final few jerking movements until Dean actually started coughing, coughing that indicated his brother was still alive. On wobbly legs, Sam dropped down onto the bed next to his brother and carefully lifted the shirt covering the wound that had started the entire ordeal and found himself in shock once again when he spied how oddly colored the bandages underneath had become and the foul odor the wound was producing. Dad may be out of the question but the ER was looking to be very much a reality now that Sam knew he couldn't handle what was being thrown at him by himself. Within a few short minutes he had his older brother wrapped in a blanket in the backseat of the Impala and as he picked up and played with Dean's phone that had indeed been resting on the passenger's seat, he debated between driving to the hospital and driving to Salt Lake City.