Chapter 4

Dean awoke in the dark room, unable to see anything. He was in a pain that could only be quelled in one way. He'd had enough of the IV stuck in his arm and unceremoniously pulled it out, making sure to press a finger over the now oozing hole it left behind. He was disoriented in the dark, and had to find his way by memory alone. He climbed the ramp up, and feeling to his left, finally found the door he was looking for. Groping for the light switch, he kicked open the lid and for the first time in almost two days, pissed like a racehorse. Letting out a satisfied moan, he stood there for what seemed like forever, waiting for everything to make its way out. When he was finally done, he flushed, closed the lid, washed his hands, flipped off the light, and ventured back out into the hallway.

Standing there in the dark trying to get his bearings, he realized two things. One, he was totally naked, and two, he wasn't alone. Being naked wouldn't have bothered him normally, but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck told him he should feel otherwise.

"Who's there?" He asked into the darkness, slowly backing up into the bathroom. The silence that met him made the hairs stand up even straighter. "If that's you Sam, this isn't funny."

"No Dean, it's not Sam." A somewhat growling voice answered as he turned on the light next to him.

When his eyes adjusted, he saw Dan sitting on the couch, obviously stewing about something. He was starting to make Dean feel uncomfortable the way he was glaring at him. Or maybe it was the fact that he knew the doctor a little more intimately then he would have liked. Whatever it was, he wanted out of that room, and fast. And that wasn't a normal feeling for Dean Winchester.

"Hey Dan, you been here long?"

"Long enough."

"Something wrong?" Dean wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Nothing I can't take care of."

"Need any help? Always willing to repay a favor."

"No, I think I got it."

"You seen Sam?"

"Oh, yeah, I've seen Sam. He's upstairs."

"OK, then. Any chance you'd hand me that blanket over there. Wasn't exactly planning on anyone being here when I came up, and I'm not real sure where Sam put our stuff."

Dan balled up the blanket, and approaching the bathroom, shoved it into Dean's face. Then he silently walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.

"That was awkward. I hope I'm alone now."

Dean decided that, it being nearly five in the morning, he'd slept enough over the last two days to last him the next two months. He wanted to shower, he wanted to eat, and he wanted to get some fresh air, all in that order. Only problem was, he had no clothes, and had no idea where Sam had put them.



Bedroom being the first obvious place to look, he wrapped himself in the scratchy couch blanket and headed upstairs. Once at the top, he figured the best place to look was in 'their' room. He'd come to think of it as theirs, almost felt like they had a home when they needed it. He peered through the door, seeing it empty. No stuff, no Sam. Checking the closet, he found Sam's bag, but nothing else.

"Ok, Sam's shit is here, where the hell is mine? And where the hell is Sam?" Asking himself the question, he walked across to the other bedroom. That was empty also. Still no gear, still no Sam.

He quietly opened the door to Lou's room. It was dark inside and he had to walk all the way over to the bed before he finally found his brother and when he did, he couldn't help but smile a little. Sam lay on his back, his chin resting on the head pressed against his shoulder. Her left arm was curled between them, with her hand resting under her chin. Her right arm draped over his midsection, she looked like a small, sick child clinging to her comforting parent. And Sam had his right arm curled around her so tight, it looked like he could crush her frail form any second. They looked safe, and secure, and Dean had no intentions of disturbing them. He stood there watching them sleep, wishing for Sam's sake that life could always be that simple. He knew it never would be in the Winchester world though, no matter how much they'd want it to be.

"Dean? What are you doing up?" It was barely a whisper, Sam speaking it just loud enough for Dean to hear it.

Dean crept closer to Sam's side. "Can't sleep anymore, dude. What the hell did you do with my stuff?"

Sam said nothing, just slowly slid off the bed as smoothly as possible, trying his best not to wake Lou with his movement. As tall and gangly as he was, he moved with stealth and grace, never jarring her once. She didn't stir, remaining asleep as Sam and Dean stepped out of the room, closing the door behind.

"Dude, I think that's illegal in all fifty states, well, maybe forty-nine, not to mention just plain wrong."

"Dean, just when I think your mind can't drop any further into the gutter, you go and prove me wrong. Is there no limit to your depravity?"

"Haven't found it yet, but I'll keep looking." He gave Sam a wink with a big grin plastered on his face.

"Who gave you the OK to get out of bed?"

"I did. I've been sleeping for two days, and haven't showered in three. If I don't get cleaned up and get something to eat, I'm gonna get one of the guns and paint the ceiling with my brains."

"Jeez, do you need to be such a drama queen, Lindsay? I'll get your bag, just get in the shower. You are pretty rank, now that you mention it."

"What did you just call me?"

Sam just stuck his hand in Dean's face, silently telling him what he could talk to, stomped down the stairs, and out the front door without saying another word.

"And he calls me a drama queen." Dean huffed as he turned around to hit the shower.

He stepped behind the curtain, not ever bothering to warm up the water first. He just turned it on, and let the cold blast hit him, and by God, it felt good. The water hitting him hard that slowly warmed up the longer he stood in it was like heaven. He was pretty sure he could stand there all day, but frowned a little 

when he realized he had more important things to do, so he just washed his hair, washed himself, and shut off the water.

Wrapping himself in a towel, he had just enough time to get himself covered when Sam barged in without the courtesy of even knocking.

"Dude, personal space. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Do you want your damn bag or not?"

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, didn't he?"

"Only because someone else woke him up at five a.m. You may have been sleeping for the last two days, but I haven't. And I was sleeping pretty soundly for change."

"Yeah, you looked pretty cozy there too. Wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"It called comforting someone when they need it, Dean. You should try it sometime."

"And who was comforting who? I know you're worried Sam. I am too. But we're gonna figure this out. Besides, I've got a plan."

"You've got a plan? Oh, great. This should be good."

Dean's face went from amused to deadly serious in less than the time it took Sam to blink. "You'll see." Taking his bag from Sam, he headed to the bedroom to get dressed. "I'll meet you downstairs."

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Sam had already made coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs by the time Dean came down. He heard Dean say he wanted to eat, but he still didn't look very well. Sam decided he better make something, and keep it light so Dean would keep it in him. Only god knew what his brother would end up scarfing down if left to his own devices.

Shoving a plate in front of Dean as he sat, he looked him dead in the eye and flatly told him, "That's all you get. You keep it down, you can have more later. You probably shouldn't even be out of bed yet. You're still walking hunched over, and your face is still flushed. Damn it Dean, why can't you ever take care of yourself?"

"And deny you the pleasure? Listen to you, you need to stop hanging around her. You're getting pretty damn bossy there, Samantha."

"Dean, I really don't find anything amusing about any of this. If I can't make her listen, at least I'll make you."

Starting in on the plate, Dean just said, "I'm right as rain Sam. Besides, I told you I have a plan. Now pass the coffee if you wanna live to see what my plan is."

"Dean, you can't have coffee yet. It'll irritate your stomach. You can have…"



"Sam, you made it, I smelled it, I have to have it. And if you don't give me it, I will hurt you. My mood is pleasant right now, all things considered, let's just keep it that way, OK?"

"Get it yourself then, I'm not responsible for the consequences." Without any hesitation, Sam started stomping upstairs.

"And wake her up, I told you I have a plan."

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Sam stepped into the bedroom, not really wanting to wake Lou up, but if Dean had a plan, it was inevitable. He knew he'd be a lot kinder then Dean would at the task anyway.

"Lou, wake up. We need to talk to you." He gently shook her shoulder as he spoke.

"Unless you want that arm broken off and shoved up your ass, you better stop it Sam. I don't want to talk now, maybe later. Right now, I'm sleeping. And I plan on doing it all day, thanks."

"No, you need to wake up, now. Dean's on a roll and you know how he gets. So, please, just sit up and get this over with."

"What the hell is he doing up anyway?"

"Because he's Dean. Enough said. Oh look, there's Mr. Personality now."

And there he was too; toting a tray pretty similar to the one he'd been graced with the day before.

"Oh, good. You're awake. I brought you breakfast. Oatmeal, applesauce, and toast. And I even buttered it, the toast I mean."

"You did what?" Sam looked shocked, puzzled, and confused, all at the same time.

"I'm not hungry. Thanks, but no thanks."

"I don't care. You're gonna eat whether you're hungry or not. Now, you're either gonna eat it yourself, or I'll force feed you, you're choice."

"Dean, I don't think…"

Dean cut Sam off with a 'Trust me' wink, and told him, "Give us a minute alone, will you Sammy? This may get a little personal."

"I guess I'll be outside." Sam closed the door behind him, than plastered his ear against it, trying to hear what was going on. He heard an occasional voice, nothing too heated, then nothing much else.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean emerged from the room, every dish empty. Sam was in shocked disbelief.

"Dude, how'd you get her to eat that?"



"I can be pretty persuasive, Sam. Women just can't resist my charm."

"Bullshit, Dean. You begged her, didn't you?"

"I never beg, Sam." Dean's grin got wider with every word he spoke. Showing Sam his weapon of choice against the pigheaded woman, he slid it back into his pocket. "I just called an old friend."

It didn't dawn on Sam immediately, but when it finally hit him upside the head, he couldn't help but smile back. "You didn't?"

"Oh yes, I did. I called Andy. Getting her to eat won't be a problem now."

"That's not playing fair, Dean."

"Who gives a shit about fair?"

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Dean dumped the dirty dishes into the sink, pretty proud of himself for how his morning had gone so far. One problem solved. If Dean told her to eat, she'd eat, no questions asked. And he was pretty sure that was half the battle.

He dropped down onto the couch, figuring he just needed to rest his eyes for a little. He'd only been up a few hours, but he was already exhausted. He also hated to admit it, but Sam had been right about the coffee, he shouldn't have had it. It was burning a hole in his stomach like hot lava flowing from an erupting volcano. And he still had the damn cramps.

Sam's grin didn't last long when he saw the way Dean just flopped onto the couch. He would never say anything, but when it came to pain, Sam really could read him like an open book.

"You want me to get you something?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just gonna relax here for a while."

"Maybe you should go lie down. I think you may still have a fever." Sam tried to put his hand across Dean's head, but Dean was quicker, and slapped it away before Sam could even get close.

"I said I'm good Sam. I'm just tired. Please don't mother hen me, let me enjoy my victory, will ya?"

"You may have won the battle, but we still gotta figure out how to win the war."

"I'm working on it, don't worry."

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It was noon when Lou decided to drag her ass out of bed, and see what was going on downstairs. She'd only heard her door open once since Dean's power trip display earlier, and she didn't even know who it had been. She wondered how long she'd been out of it this time. She had no idea what time it was, or even what day it was. She hated how much whatever it was drained her, and how much closer together they seemed to be happening lately. She thought for sure in the beginning that it would just go away, but 

now, she was starting to think she may need to take Dan up on his offer. She also wondered where the hell he'd gone, too. He usually hovered around her like an eagle waiting to snatch its prey, but she hadn't seen him in, well, since she didn't know what day it was, she really didn't know that either.

She noticed the sleeping form on the couch, covered in a blanket up to the top of its head. Peeling the cover back, her suspicions were confirmed. She knew that lump under the blanket had to be Dean, who else would be sleeping in the middle of the day. He looked like road kill the last time she took a good look at him, now he just looked like shit. She chuckled and actually said out loud, "From road kill to shit, quite an improvement."

She heard light laughter coming from out on the deck and peeked out the window, curious as to who may have been outside. She was pretty sure it was Sam, but unless he'd split into more than one personality, he had to have company. And he did. Alex had apparently decided to drop by for a visit. Sam and Alex seemed to be getting along pretty well, too. She was thankful it was Sam, and not Dean that set sights on Alex. Lou knew what Dean's idea of a relationship was, and if she wanted to stay on Alex's good side, she'd steer her clear of him.

She shuffled into the kitchen, not really sure what she was looking for and finally settling on water after rummaging through the refrigerator. It was the source of life after all. Downing a tall glass, then pouring another, she shuffled back over to Dean, and gave him a gentle shove.

"Hey, you're hogging the couch. Get up you lazy bum. You gonna sleep all day?"

"You're one to talk. I just heard you dragging your ass down here not five minutes ago. Who's the lazy bum?"

"I'd ask you how you feel, but you'd just lie to me, so, guess I'll ask if you're hungry?"

"Depends on what you're cooking."

"I'm thinking grilled cheese and soup."

"Extra cheese and butter? And little oyster crackers?"

"Depends on when the last time you ate without giving it back to the septic community was?"

"This morning, thank-you very much."

"Extra cheese and butter it is then."

"Make enough for four, Sam has company."

"So I heard."

At that moment, Sam and Alex appeared through the door, smiling and giggling like school children. They acted like they'd known each other for years, even after only three days and Dean was not going to be out done by his little brother. Standing up as straight as he could, he made his way over to introduce himself. Sam knew the look in his brother's eyes. He also knew enough about Alex to know what was coming.

"Alex, this is my brother Dean, Dean, this is Alex," Sam shot out first, not even giving Dean a chance to speak.



Alex nodded in Dean's direction. "Nice to finally meet you, Dean. I've heard a lot about you."

"Don't believe a word he says. So, you a friend of Lou's?"

"You could say that?"

"I guess I need to hang around here a little more often," he smiled that killer Dean Winchester smile, the one that usually made women start taking off their clothes without question. The response wasn't exactly what he'd expected.

"Sweetheart, I've already seen you naked, I don't think it'll happen twice, and I don't think I'll be returning the favor. But nice try though." She gave him a wink, and a smile, then gave Sam one too.

The laughter that broke out in the room from the two people uninvolved in the conversation pretty much said it all and both of them knew they had to mark their calendars. This was the day that Dean Winchester actually got embarrassed. Either that, or his fever suddenly spiked to boil.

"I think I'll go crawl under a rock now, you call me when that lunch is ready, will ya." He plopped back down onto the couch and just pulled the blanket up over his head.

"Come on Dean, don't be a baby, she was just kidding. Don't think I didn't warn her about you." Sam was laughing so hard, he was almost crying.

Dean pulled back the blanket from his head, flipping Sam the universal sign language, and returned to his sulk.

"He'll survive. Not the first time he's been rejected, won't be the last." Lou was still chuckling also, as she continued to cook.

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After a long day of doing pretty much nothing, the day was almost complete. Sam and Alex volunteered to clean up after a late dinner while Dean and Lou vegetated in family room, mindlessly flipping through TV channels. They were both dog tired, but they both felt markedly better. Lou was just about to doze off, when the ringing of the doorbell got all of their attention. It was Lou that got up to answer the door and she was surprised to see Dan on the other side, waiting to be let in.

"Since when do you ring the doorbell? I know you know how to open a door. Grab the handle, turn the knob and push. It's pretty simple. And where have you been lately, anyway?"

"I've been working, where do you think I've been. You look better today. Get some good sleep last night?" The last question was asked with a slight sneer.

"Yeah, I did, and had three squares too, any other questions, Mom?"

"Mind if I crash here, it's late, and I don't feel like driving home now."

"You're always welcome to crash here. You know you don't need to ask. Is something wrong? You seem a little, I don't know, off today."



"I'm fine. Just tired." If only that were true, he thought.

"Me too. I think I'm going to bed. You'll probably have to crash with Sam or Dean though. Alex already had dibs on the little room. Just tell them one of them needs to sleep on the couch, or in the basement. They won't care."

"Yeah, right, the couch. Don't worry, I'll take the basement."

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm sure. Good night Lou."

"I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Do you really want to?"

"What kind of a stupid question is that?"

"Just a question."

"And I don't think it warrants an answer, you should already know." And off she went to her room, closing the door behind her.

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The house was silent, and had been for hours. The moon and stars were blanketed by a thick layer of clouds, making the house pitch black inside. No light penetrated through the windows, no noise broke the silence. Not even crickets chirped tonight. It was like the earth was dead, and so were all that were on it.

The bedroom door slowly swung open, closed, and clicked quietly shut. The figure that had entered slowly and silently made its way to the bed, sitting down on the very edge as not to wake the sleeping woman that laid upon it. Resting a hand softly on her chest, it leeched the newfound energy she had acquired, plus most of whatever else had remained. It just drained her, until it was sure there was almost no more. It was careful not to take it all, not just yet.

"I'm sorry I have to finish with you so abruptly, but you seem so empty, and Sam is so full. I can almost taste his energy already. He will sustain me for a long time to come. I must thank you, I may never need to move on, I may never want to. And maybe when I finish with Sam, I'll take Dean."

It snuck out of the room as silently as it entered, leaving an almost empty shell behind.

The sun was just starting to rise and Dean woke up feeling pretty good. His head didn't hurt, his stomach had finally calmed, and he could stand up almost totally straight. He thought it was going to be a good day and he knew the best way to start it was with a tall, steaming hot, black, cup of coffee. Leaving Sam snoring, which is what probably woke him in the first place, he went down to the kitchen to make it.



Ten minutes later with cup in hand, he ventured out to the deck and hoped he wouldn't regret what he was about to do. Breathing in the crisp morning air, he took the first swallow. It felt like a puffy cloud in the heavens. Every taste bud was aroused by the hot liquid, and they seemed to dance on air. He knew then that it was probably the most perfect thing on earth, well, for that moment, anyway. Staring out into the early morning sky, he thought briefly about how different their lives could have been, had numerous things turned out differently, certain decisions made differently. Then he just shook his head. He figured there was no use crying over spilled milk.

His thoughts were broken when the door opened, and out stepped his brother, mug in hand as well.

"I'll give you some credit bro, you can make a mean cup of coffee. What the hell do you put in it, crack?"

"Dude, you remember that time in Philadelphia, that Starbuck's chick? She told me all the secrets to the perfect cup of coffee. Hell, she'd have told me all the secrets of the universe, if she knew them."

"TMI, Dean. Just take the compliment, and move on, ok?"

"Compliment taken. So, I've been thinking…"

"You really shouldn't do that when you're sick, it comes out all warped and twisted."

"Shut up and listen, Sam. I think…"

The sound of shattering glass stopped Dean's revelation, both brothers returning back inside. Normal people probably wouldn't have given the sound of broken glass a second thought, but they weren't exactly normal.

The smell of coffee had apparently permeated throughout the entire house, because Dan and Alex had made their way into the kitchen as well. Alex was on hands and knees, picking up the shards of coffee mug that had scattered themselves all over the floor when it had fallen from her grasp and while Dean was watching her work, Sam punched him in the shoulder for staring at her obvious attributes.

"Good morning," Sam offered.

"What's so good about it?" Dan retorted.

"Well, we're all breathing, that's a good start," Dean finished.

Noticing Dan holding something in his hands, both boys looked at him quizzically, then at each other. "What's that you got there, Dan?" Dean asked, having a pretty good idea what he was seeing.

"I don't know, I found it in the basement. You got any idea what the hell is? I'd swear it's a Geiger counter, but I've never seen anything like it. And what's with the duct tape on it?"

Dean knew exactly what it was when Dan sported it to the group. He just couldn't figure out how he got a hold of it.

"Watch what happens when I turn it on."

The needle on the hand-held device jumped from left immediately to right in less time than it took to turn the damn thing on. Dean looked at Sam, Sam looked at Dean, and both knew they were in some serious 

trouble when them a realization struck both of them simultaneously. Something was seriously wrong here, and it wasn't natural.

"That's mine, it's a radar detector. It's homemade, haven't got all the bugs out yet," Dean told Dan matter-of-factly. He grabbed it from his hands, shut it off, and tried shoving it in his pocket, only to realize he didn't have any pockets to shove it in. "Been looking for that, thanks Dan. I'm gonna go put it in my bag."

"I think I'm gonna hit the shower." Sam commented, and followed his brother up the stairs. Once they were out of ear shot, Sam grabbed Dean by the arm, "That's your EMF meter, Dean. Where the hell did he get it from?"

"I don't give a shit where he got it Sam, I'm more worried about what happened when he turned it on. It lit up like an f'n Christmas tree. I'm starting to think we may not be dealing with just a physical ailment anymore."

"I'm thinking you may be right."

"Sam, go in there and wake her up, we need to talk to her."

Sam opened the door, and ventured into the room, while Dean hid the meter back in his bag. The next thing he heard made his stomach lurch.

Sam's voice, scared and panicked, "DEAN, GET IN HERE, NOW!"