Happy New Year to everyone. Hope everyone still remembers what happened at the end of chapter 12. Thank you to all those who submitted a review, as always it's greatly appreciated. It's wonderful to hear what you guys think, so thank you :o) Anyway, hope you continue to enjoy the story.

On with 'Unlucky'

Chapter 13- Unlucky

Dean Winchester snuck a look over to Sam who was now turned away from him, his heading lolling to the side as Dean drove recklessly down the road.

His hand promptly left the steering wheel and gave Sam's shoulder a firm shake.

Ain't no way was he going to go back to a hospital for no friggin reason.

No way.

Sam was going to go to hospital, get seen to, get better and then be released. It all made perfect, rational sense. Dean would make up some story about them moving from city to city hence why there were no notes for Sam, he'd also say that he'd forgot to bring Sam's medication along with him. It was just a good plan. Dean had even thought of a new alias for them to use in the mean time. He quite liked his current alias of Lawson, so while in hospital, Dean had decided upon the name Houston.

" Houston, we have a problem..." Dean said with a grin to the silent car, as he chuckled at his own weird joke. Well, Dean was correct, Houston did a have problem. Well, at least Dean and Sam Houston had a rather big problem; one of them was clinging onto life in the car, while the other one was about a tail spin away from claiming both their lives with crashing the car.

Dean knew where he was going; he was going to the hospital. He was going to get Sammy help; everything was going to be ok. He'd get Sammy to the hospital and the clever doctors and the helpful nurses would take care of him. They'd make him all better.

That's what doctors did.

They made sick people better.

They work miracles.

Dean glanced over again at his unconscious brother.

No, no, sleeping brother.

If Sam was unconscious, then that would mean that he wasn't in the same confined, suffocating space that the Impala was increasingly becoming. If Sam was unconscious then that would mean that Sam wasn't in the car with him, embarking on this journey to the hospital.

It would mean that Sam simply wasn't there with him.

It would mean that Dean was alone, all alone. Left by everyone. Not wanted by no one.

Rejected.

Dean could feel the frightened tears beginning to burn through his hazel green eyes.

So Sam was asleep. Never unconscious, never not there with Dean, never away in some distant world that Dean Winchester had zero access to.

Dean's mind kept drifting off. He couldn't understand the height of his confusion.

Why was he listening to his conscience and taking Sam back to the hospital now..? Why now, did everything, suddenly make sense...? Every single time Sam had suggested that they go down to the hospital to talk to the doctor, to talk about Sam's medication, Dean had shot the suggestion down.

Even last night when he had physically sewed all those stitches into Sam himself, even though every intelligent thought in his head told him to take him down to ER, he'd ignored it.

The pain was eating Dean alive.

His lies were destroying him.

Yet, Dean had no idea why he was still lying. All he was sure about was that his evil little conscience continued to be infuriating and point out every single reason why he couldn't tell Sam.

The horrible, inconsolable feeling of dread, emptiness and guilt had thread its way through Dean's gut each and every time Sam had mentioned the words; illness, hospitals, medication and doctors.

Dean had just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, he'd wanted some big bird to descend from the sky and carry him off to a nest on the top of a big mountain, he'd wanted Sam to just never ever mention the crash, their father, the accident, the coma, anything.

And now suddenly, everything felt ok.

Going to the hospital felt like it was the best idea in the world.

Dean's eyes tried to take in where he was driving, yet he seemed to be on auto pilot. No matter how hard Dean tried to concentrate on where he was heading, tried to follow the path he was being led down, his mind grew fuzzy and he couldn't focus anymore.

Yet he was driving and had no idea where he was going or how he knew where to go.

It was almost as if something was controlling him...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

They were coming.

Its red eyes glowered passionately as it swarmed around the male in the office.

The doctor glanced over at the mass of black particles, still uneasy to how something which had no physical body held such a significantly powerful hold over him.

It was its power that bothered Andrew Wallis the most.

Its ability to peel away life and then in a heartbeat return it back to the owner.

Dr. Wallis snuck a look over at the hovering, intimidating figure.

He wasn't a believer in the supernatural. Anyone with a grain of intelligence understood that anything mustering in the world of the paranormal could be explained in logical, rational means.

Only those who were stark raving mad believed in the supernatural, only those people believed in witches, warlocks, demons, spirits, ghosts, reincarnation, rituals and hunters.

The red eyes bore into his stomach like an illness, its menacing black form danced seductively in front of the doctor.

" They're here..." It growled, its blood rich eyes staring into the doctors soul. " Remember our deal Andrew, remember what we said..."

Dr Wallis swallowed nervously as the red eyed, black form charged into his body, suffocating his thoughts, actions and movement.

He was trapped in his own meat suit.

His last thoughts before his consciousness was removed from him was something he thought he'd never think, let alone accept.

He'd become a believer...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

" Sammy...!" Dean shouted his voice, loud, commanding. It was no time for Sam to be resting, sleeping; anything that allowed him to have his eyes closed instead of living consciously in this filthy world that was consuming Dean.

Dean's hand rested gently but apprehensively on his brother's shoulder, Sam's head still turned away from him, nodding to the passenger side of the car.

Dean's hand slowly, dropped off his little brother's shoulder and onto his chest. Words couldn't describe the comfort that oozed from Dean to feel the shallow movements of Sam's chest struggling to rise and fall.

It didn't matter if his little brother was drowning in his own blood.

It was the small mercy that Sam was still alive.

Dean shook Sam's shoulder gently and rapidly it grew faster, it took every ounce of common sense not to grab his unconscious brother with both hands and shake him back to the land of the living.

Instead, Dean scrambled out the car and hurried over to Sam's side and in one swift, practiced move; opened the door to the Impala and knelt down in front of Sam.

Dean reached over and snapped the seat belt off from his brother, and physically had to catch him before Sammy rolled right out of the car. Instead, Dean propped him back against the seat, and gently with his hands, tilted his brother's face back. Dean felt his hands pause as he cupped his little brother's face in his erratic hands.

He looked so young. So innocent. The hazel eyes that had a stubborn way of boring a hole straight into your soul, laid trapped behind closed eye lids, resting peacefully.

And yet, he was battling for his life.

Dean looked at Sam and again tried to rouse him, he kept glancing at the hospital ER entrance which was about twenty feet away. At the time he'd parked, Dean had thought he was about as close to the hospital as he could get the black beauty of the Impala; instead, feeling he way he did, Dean would have happily drove his prized possession straight through the doors and parked directly in reception.

" Come on, Sam..." Dean said his hand on his brother's chest as he moved him forward trying to loop his free arm around his brother, to haul him out the seat.

The sudden abrupt movement caused Sam to wince and Dean froze.

Yes Sam was battling a high fever, but the little man had never complained once of any pain. Yet here he was now wincing. Dean looked gingerly at his brother; unless Dean was the one who was hurting him.

" Sammy..?" Dean whispered as he urged Sam to open his eyes and look at him, " We're at the hospital, it's gonna be ok now, you'll see, they'll fix you, they'll make you all better..."

Sam's eyes flickered open, " Stay...here..."

" I'm not going anywhere without you..." Dean said mustering a smile, " Now come on, I got to get you moving to that ER, now you got to co-operate, you hear me..? You got to get those bandy legs of yours to start putting one clumsy foot in front of the other..."

Dean once again looped Sam's hand, but he froze as he did before when Sam cried out. His younger brother's hand moved straight to his lower abdomen. Dean's eyes widened.

" It hurts.." Sam gasped out, " Oh god, it hurts..."

Dean nervously looked around the parking lot.

He had to make a decision.

Now.

Finally Dean sucked in a breath and looked directly at Sam who was hugging his stomach, his skin a horrible grey shade, his eyes never focusing, and in so much pain that Dean felt like running a hundred miles in the opposite direction, just so he didn't have to see that look on his Sam's face.

" I'm gonna get help Sammy..." Dean said already standing up, " I'm gonna go to the ER and get us some help.."

Sam's hand instantly stretched out.

" Stay...please..." Sam begged, his voice tortured as he forced his eyes on his big brother, " Dean...please..."

Dean looked at the stretched out hand, and eventually took it in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He knelt down back in front of Sam.

" Sammy, I'll be just...-" Dean started to explain,

" Don't...le...leave...me...to...die...on...my...own.." Sam begged as he his hazel eyes bore a sorrowful look into Dean's heart.

His little brother's eyes were scared, wild, innocent. Dean's heart plunged to the pit of his stomach. Just hearing Sam whisper those words made Dean sick.

Dean took his free hand and smoothed some of Sam's shaggy brown hair off his forehead.

" Dude, I'll be five freaking minutes, alright..?" Dean said chuckling through the lump in his throat, " If you manage to die within that time, heck I'm gonna resurrect you myself and kick the shit out of you...!"

Dean blinked the tears from his eyes. He had to stay strong and calm for Sam. No point them both crumbling in front of each other.

" I'll be right back..." Dean said untangling his fingers from Sam's. Forcing himself not to glance back, he started jogging towards the entrance of the emergency room.

Dean had to keep his game face on.

Not only for Sam's sake.

But for Dean's as well...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester flew through the doors of the ER.

His jog had all but turned into a high speed sprint.

Crashing through the ER doors, his hazel green eyes looked at the busy ER room. Ignoring all the disapproving looks as he pushed past other ill or injured people, Dean anxiously seeked out anyone who looked like they worked there.

He was about a breath away from screaming the words 'help' from the pit of his stomach, when something pinned on the reception wall made him freeze.

In fact he didn't freeze.

Dean had no choice but to stop moving.

Because at that precise moment, Sam wasn't the one in desperate need of medical attention.

Dean was.

The elder Winchester was sure his heart had just about imploded inside of his body. He was positive that any grain of motivation in his head had exploded into tiny useless fragments.

Any trace of hope Dean had been clinging onto, had all but been removed.

Sitting behind the busy receptionist were two pictures lifted from CCTV cameras.

One was of Sam Turner

The other of Dean Turner

The caption which was being read by any one in the room was simple.

They were wanted by the hospital and police.

How unlucky could one family be...?

Dean felt the lump that had earlier been in his throat all but choke him as he stood rooted like a pot plant in the middle of the ER; oblivious to the people who were moving around him.

Dean snapped back violently into his body. This wasn't a time to be wallowing in self pity.

It was time for action.

Dean hurriedly spun around and jogged back towards the entrance he'd earlier burst through.

...Act normal, act like nothings wrong....Dean ordered himself...Draw no attention to yourself...

Dean was outside as he stood in the humidity that was Clearwater, Florida.

His legs were already moving back towards the car, he'd have to think of something else, he'd have to think up some other plan.

Screw thinking, this didn't make an ounce of sense. How was this whole thing possible...?

He was fuming; confused to how he'd managed to drive his brother to the one hospital that happened to want Sam and Dean Turner for god knows what reasons. Dean scrubbed his face in frustration as he paused in the evening air, the parking lot deserted as he stood there trying to think up some way of saving Sam.

He couldn't return to Sam without a plan.

He couldn't and he wouldn't.

That was what the important thing was; he'd try and figure out how their past from Jefferson City had managed to follow them all the freaking way to Florida at a later date.

But saving Sam; that was his top priority.

" Dean Turner..." The male voice boomed across the deserted parking lot, " We meet again..."

Slowly, body feeling like it was wanted the ground to open up and swallow him; Dean turned to face the man behind him, it took all of Dean's inner strength not to scream in frustration.

" You look pretty well, considering everything..." Dr. Andrew Wallis said, a prude look on his condescending face.

" Same could be said for you, after all pulling off that holier than thou doctor stint, must really be getting old for you.." Dean seethed, his voice angry, but inwardly his mind raced at the dire situation that was unfolding in front of him. " How's it going..?"

" That attitude of yours Dean, I'm sure it's got you into trouble before..?" Dr. Wallis asked with a grin, " Now, how's that brother of yours..?"

" He's none of your business..." Dean said looking angrily at the doctor as he took a step closer, " Why are you here..? Just back off doc, you don't know who you're screwing with.."

" Oh you see Dean, I do..." Andrew Wallis said with a toothy smile, " I've done my homework on your family..."

" I'm shaking..." Dean sarcastically spat, however, he was curious to know exactly where this doctor was taking this.

" You Winchesters are like bad smells..." Dr Wallis growled as he slowly advanced on Dean, his persona taking on another phase.

Dean felt the little colour that had been in his face drain away towards his feet.

" You just don't know how to stay dead..?" Wallis hissed, " Now do you boys..?"

" You're crazy..." Dean muttered, his game face expertly placed upon his handsome rugged features.

No way was he going down because of this doctor.

" Goodbye Dr. Wallis..." Dean muttered, " And I mean it, you stay the hell away from my family; or else.."

" He's ill Dean, he'll die without medical attention..." Dr. Wallis whispered, his voice gyrating in Dean's head; God that voice was so familiar.

" See you around.." Dean said already turning to leave.

" St. Louis..." Dr Wallis shouted at Dean's back. " What's with the Winchester genes..? You boys programmed to come back from the dead..? Or is it just another, what did you call it Dean, ah yes; miracle..?"

" Go to hell..." Dean growled to himself as he continued to march away; Dr Wallis' voice however continued to invade his mind. Dean's hair on his neck had already been standing on end. How had Wallis found out about St Louis..?

" You think your little handyman work you did on Sammy boy last night will save him..?" Dr. Wallis hissed, " He lost so much blood, and you stitched him together like he had a paper cut...?"

Dean kept walking, he dare not slow down. He dare not stop.

How on earth did Dr Andrew Wallis know what happened last night...?

" His blood will be on your hands Dean..." Dr Wallis shouted, " You'll fail him, the same way you failed your father; after all that is why your daddy really left. Not because of Sam, but because of you..."

" No.." Dean whispered as he his hands begun to reach for his ears, anything to physically block the sound of the doctor's aching voice that ground into his broken mind.

He could feel his feet moving faster, now running back towards the car.

How far did he park..? He'd been less than a couple of feet away from the entrance to the ER and yet, he was sprinting and still couldn't seem to make it across the parking lot.

The voice continued to drone.

" Sam will die, your lies are consuming you, you're a failure..." The voice chanted.

" Shut up..." Dean whispered as he could feel his hands shaking as they pressed harder against his ears, " Shut-up..."

" You're a failure..."

" Shut-up..." Dean shouted as he continued running.

Where the hell was the car..?

" You're gonna be all alone. Left all by yourself..."

" Shut-up...!!" Dean screamed.

" You selfish bastard, you're so scared at being left alone you won't even let your brother get the help he needs and deserves..."

" SHUT-UP..!!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. His feet were frozen, his body shaking. He couldn't run anymore, his heart was racing like never before and every breath was hitched.

Spinning around to confront the doctor, Dean felt a startled cry leave his mouth.

There was no one behind him.

Nothing but the deserted parking lot, filled with cars, just like any regular parking lot.

Shaking furiously, Dean forced his breathing to slow down.

But it wouldn't.

Dead in front of him sat the Impala and slumped in the passenger seat, he could see Sam.

Dean's body was out of control, he could already feel the tears burning down his face.

The words like a mantra going around his head.

...Your lies are consuming you...

Dean closed his eyes as more hot tears sprung to his face.

This had to stop. This had to stop right now.

The truth had to come out.

Now...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean's right, the truth does have to come out….but will Sam be alive to hear it..? Thanks for reading, and please if you get a chance, drop me a little line. See you all next update.