AN: hokay, so this part is unbetaed, cause it's nearly 5am and Glitz likes sleep. but here it is anyway! more sometime after i've had sleep! thanks for all the kind reviews and i'm loving all the story alerts!

As the Impala tore down the exit ramp, Dean could barely focus on the road ahead. Between looking in the rearview mirror for any government vehicles that may be following them, and making sure Sam wasn't about to die, Dean didn't have enough eyes. Sam looked terrible. Sweat dripped down his face and he sprawled, almost to the floor of the car. With his eyes closed, the only way Dean could tell that Sam wasn't passed out was by his labored breathing.

"Sammy, you gotta stay with me here. Just wait 'til we get to the hospital, okay?"

"No Dean." Sam cracked open his eyes, and Dean could see they were slightly unfocused. "No hospitals, they'll be watching for us. They'll catch us. Besides, it's probably just a sedative. Just get me to bed, it'll...wear off...in a few...hours."

"Fine, we'll go to the motel. But you gotta say with me man." Dean forgot their adversary for a moment as his brother struggled to keep himself in the waking world. But as he doubled checked in the mirror, Dean noticed that not one vehicle seemed to be in pursuit of the muscle car. Why wasn't anyone on their tail? And why was it just a tranquilizer? If Henrickson didn't want them dead, only wanted them down, why didn't the entire firing squad have sedatives to knock them out? Judging by Sam's reaction, it was no mere tranquilizer.

As his eyes closed once again, Sam reached a shaking hand down to his left leg. Where the pain centered, it felt like roiling black tar was boiling through his system. He gasped as his fingers brushed the tip of something embedded in his calf. "Dammit..."

"Sam? Dude, don't go doing anything stupid, okay? We'll look at it in the hotel." Dean silently cursed the distance between downtown and their motel. The outskirts of town seemed like a good idea before. He laughed hollowly, "Hey Sam, funny how we picked the motel to stay under the radar."

A ghost of grin flitted across Sam's face, followed closely by a grimace and a jerk as he yanked the dart out of his leg. "Geez..."

As his brother's pallor became even whiter, Dean urged on his baby, not really caring how many speed limits he broke. He noticed Sam's breathing became even and his expression cleared. He had passed out. "Just hold on Sammy."

The engine roared as Dean pulled into their motel, swinging down to the furthest room. He jerked the shifter into park, and took a deep breath. He reached over and shook Sam. "Hey, we're here. Can ya walk?"

"ugh, yeah...i think so." Using his hands and right leg, Sam shifted his body around and swung his legs out of the car. He hissed in pain as his leg hit the pavement, pausing only slightly before he heaved himself up. Holding onto the car for balance, Sam took a few tentative steps forward. Dean raced around to the passenger's side to provide backup in case Sam needed assistance.

"Dude...I got it...just..damn!" Sam swayed on the spot and began to fall to the pavement.

"Hey!" Dean threw an arm around Sam's back, while also ducking beneath his brother's arm. He half dragged, half carried Sam to their door. By the time Sam collapsed on the bed, his shirt was drenched with sweat and his breathing labored again. He groaned as Dean lifted his boots onto the bed, eyes screwed up against the pain.

"Alright, we gotta see what's under the hood, kay Sammy?" Dean reached for the blade in his back pocket. "I'm gonna cut your pants, sorry dude."

Without further hesitation, the older Winchester brother sliced cleanly from knee to hem, and ripped the fabric to expose Sam's lower leg. A small dart clattered to the floor, its damage done. They shared a gasp, though for different motives. The jerk on Sam's leg shot stinging pain to his nerve endings, while Dean's intake of breath was for the state of Sam's calf. It was swollen to nearly twice it's usual size, with bolts of an angry red covering the entirety of it.

"Jesus Sam, what did he get you with, the freaking bastard." Dean took care to not make any sudden movements as he rotated his brother's leg, searching for the source of the infection. Sam clutched at the comforter as the agony redoubled. "Easy, easy. Just gotta see where they got ya. Can you flip over so I don't have to play Stretch Armstrong with ya?"

Sam snorted weakly and pushed off with his left arm, dragging his sore body over. He bunched a pillow beneath his head, burying into its cool softness.

"God-dammit." Dean was no physician, but this looked bad. About midway down, a round raised ring of flesh surrounded a minute puncture wound. The angry red turned a deep purple at the epicenter. Dean ran a careful finger around the entry point. Sam's answering groan told him it was a sensitive as it looked. "Dammit Sam, you need a hospital. He must've gotten you with some sort of poison."

Sam's words were barely distinguishable due to his head buried in the pillow, "No. Hospitals."

"Sam! C'mon! It's not worth your life! You could die, we don't know what the hell this is! How long is it gonna take to get through your system? Minutes? Hours? Days? You just gonna be in pain 'til it takes you? No Sammy, not gonna happen." Dean made to help Sam back up, to get him to the hospital.

Grunting, Sam swatted his brother's hand away. He pushed up on shaking arms, to shift so he could talk to Dean. "We are not going to the hospital. That's final Dean. Don't make me go there. They'll find us, then they'll take you away to jail, and I'll be chained to a hospital bed, waiting to be booked off as soon as I heal."

Dean couldn't say no to Sam, not when he looked at him with such a sorrow. "Alright, but we gotta figure this out. I didn't make a deal just so you could get off-ed by friggin' Henrickson."

Sam grinned, then groaned as a wave of sizzling anguish passed through his body. "Alright, we gotta work fast. Call up Bobby, Missouri, anyone with some know-how on this kinda stuff. Hand me the laptop, I'll see what I can find about poisons used by the government, take a look at my symptoms."

OO OO OO

Two hours later, and they were no further in the research than before. Dean's calls to their contacts had everyone on the search, but no one knew off-hand what was ailing Sam. The laptop was a venture in failure, especially when it's conductor was only half-conscious and slipping further into the poison's bite.

"Sam, why don't you try and get some sleep? Maybe rest will stop the poison for a bit." Dean rubbed at his own tired eyes. They had driven straight here 6 hours to find Jo, and still hadn't any respite.

"No Dean, it won't work that way. I'm nearly into the site...just gimme...one minute." Sam was close to four inches away from the screen, squinting as he worked. "Almost have it."

"Dude, you need glasses? You're gonna burn something important if you get that close."

"Nah, it's my eyes. They're fuzzy. Probably just exhausted. There! Got it!" Sam squinted harder and began reading the page. "Argh, this must really getting to me. Everything is so hard to see..."

"Sam?" Dean moved to grip his brother's shoulder. "C'mon man, what's going on now?"

Sam looked up and gasped, horror flashing across his face. "Dean! I can't see! Oh god, I've- I've gone blind!"

Dean stooped and grabbed Sam's face between his hands. "What? Sammy, can you see me at all?" He searched hazel eyes for any problems, any signs of disturbance. None showed, his brother's eyes looked clear and frightened, leaving Dean perplexed.

"I can see you, but not all of you. Everything is a big fuzzy blur! Dean! I'm going blind!" Panic was evident in his voice, heightened, no doubt, by the slowness of research and forthcoming information.

"Hey, just calm down. You're not helping yourself by freaking out. It's probably just an effect of the poison." Dean sat back, releasing Sam so they both slumped onto their prospective beds. He tried to calm himself as well as the younger Winchester. "I'll call everyone, let them know the new symptom. Maybe it'll help. In the meantime, you sleep. No, no arguing," He put out a hand as Sam began to protest. "You need rest, this stress probably isn't helping. I'll call everyone."

"Dean-"

"No! You don't sleep, I'll find the nearest sleeping pill and shove it down your throat. Now lie back. I'll wake you as soon as we know more."

Grumbling, Sam complied. He reasoned with himself that perhaps Dean would catch some sleep while he himself did. Besides, sleeping pills? Not fun.

Dean quietly closed the door behind him, taking his cell outside. He quickly dialed a number, hoping the person on the other end would connect him to the right answer.

"Hello Dean." Henrickson's snide voice came over the line. Dean was forcibly reminded of the time they first talked, when Henrickson insulted John. "I was expecting your call. Nice timing, just the right amount of desperation. So, how's Sammy today?"

"What do you want, you sonovabitch?" Dean's voice became nearly a growl. "How do I fix him?"

Laughter sounded clear, "You don't Dean. I fix him and in return, the two of you come quietly. No one need die, especially not my men. Not even Sammy."

"Don't call him that. What did you put in Sam?"

"Oh, just a little bit of Asp's venom. No worries. Has he lost eyesight yet? He should be paralyzed in, oh, 6 hours. Dead in about 10. What's it gonna be Dean? Your brother's life, or your freedom?"

"You bastard!" Dean slammed a fist into the support column in front of their motel room. "Why can't you just leave us alone? I didn't kill anyone! And Sam hasn't done anything wrong!"

"Oh really? Not what eyewitnesses say. And plus all that other good stuff. Grave digging? You guys are some sick bastards."

Letting loose a cry of rage, Dean threw the phone, watching with a sick pleasure as it broke upon the pavement. He wished Henrickson was there, standing with Dean, just so he could be the only to beat the holy crap out of him. "Dammit!"

teehee. angry!Dean is fun. and no Lil, not enough whuppage yet ;)