Caleb pulled up to the house to see the gate leading into the property was open. He quickly brought the Jeep around to the back to find Mac and John waiting for them.
"What happened?" John asked as he opened the passenger door. Mackland stepped in to help John get Dean out of the car
"Damn spirit barred the door behind Dean," Caleb said. "I couldn't get it open. When I finally got it open I found him unconscious."
They got Dean to his room. Caleb stepped back as his father sat on the bed pulling on a pair of gloves. He opened his black bag and moved into check the cut over the blond's left eye.
"What's this all over him?" John asked, wiping his hands on his jeans.
"The wall he crashed into was lined with shelves," Caleb explained. "Who knows what was in all the jars."
"The laceration isn't so bad," Ames said. "It will need a couple of stitches. But we need to get that dislocated shoulder taken care of first."
Each of the men had done this before. Caleb sat on the bed and took a tight hold of Dean. John came to stand along side Mac, gently taking his sons left arm. The doctor placed his hand on Dean's shoulder to guide the bone back into the socket. He nodded at the others. The older Winchester pulled Dean's arm straight out and they all heard the audible pop as Mackland guided the head back into the socket.
"God, I hate that sound." Caleb shuddered.
"I'm just glad he wasn't awake," John said stepping back. "Last time I had to that it scared the hell out of Sam when his brother screamed."
"Sammy always was a bit dramatic," Caleb teased.
"Mac, is he going o be okay?" John asked, ignoring Reaves's comment.
Ames lifted Dean's right eyelid checking the pupil with a penlight. "He has a slight concussion," he answered, checking the left eye. "He'll have one hell of a headache, but he'll be fine."
"I'll go get some water and towels to clean him up," Caleb offered.
John pulled his sons boots off, then his jeans. Mac pulled out a pair of scissors to start on the shirt.
"You cut that shirt and Dean will kill you," John commented.
"We'll never get it off with out cutting," the older hunter said. "Besides it's an old AC/DC shirt. I'll get him another."
Mac began to cut it when he heard John mumble. "What was that?"
"Nothing," John said angrily.
"Damn, Dad, Dean's going to kill you," Caleb said, stepping into the room noticing the cut shirt. "Sam gave him that shirt."
When Dean was finally stripped of his clothes they washed away the residue from his encounter with the shelf. Ames gave special attention to the cut above his eye. He wanted to make sure it was thoroughly clean before stitching it up. Caleb and John watched as the older hunter put twelve very small stitches in the laceration to close it.
"That's all I can do for him," Mackland said, placing his equipment in his bag and closing it.
"Do you want to strap that shoulder?" John asked.
The neurosurgeon looked up. "We'll leave it for now."
"Well, I'm hungry," Reaves, announced. "I'm heading downstairs."
John stood to follow. "Good, you can tell me, in detail, what exactly happened."
Mac smiled as he heard his son arguing with his mentor as they left the room.
SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN
" 'Chere, wake up."
Dean tried to ignore the voice. The loud drum solo in his head was not a pleasant way to wake up.
" 'Chere, you must find your brother."
"Sam?"
Dean slowly sat up and stifled a curse as his shoulder shifted. He hugged his left arm to his chest as he looked around the room. It wasn't familiar to him and he wondered where he was. Throwing back the covers he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He walked over to his duffle and gingerly pulled on a pair of jeans. A t-shirt was out and he grabbed a button down shirt fastening it as he walked to the door. When he opened the door he heard a voice downstairs.
"They are the ones. You must confront them."
Dean leaned on the door jam as a wave of vertigo assaulted him. When it passed he moved to the stairs and slowly made his way down.
"I'm going to head upstairs," Caleb said. "Get some sleep."
"Why bother?" John glanced at his watch. "It's already five in the morning."
"Some of us need more then just coffee to keep us going," Reaves said, stepping out of the sitting room. "Dean, what are you doing up?"
The blond hunter stepped into the room and stopped. "You!"
Next thing Caleb knew Dean was launching himself at John. The younger Winchester caught his father off guard and they crashed to the floor. The gun John usually had tucked behind his back went skidding across the floor. Dean saw it, pushed off the older Winchester to snatch it up.
"Where is he!" Dean yelled, pointing the gun at Caleb and Mac.
John got slowly to his feet. "Dean, what the hell are you doing?"
Caleb watched as Dean's attention shifted to his father. When he was certain his friend wouldn't notice he started to maneuver to get behind him.
"Where. Is. He?"
"Where's who, Dean?" Mac asked, softly.
"My brother!"
"Sam's not here," John said. "He left."
"No." Dean shook his head. "You made him leave! Told him never to come back!"
Ames glanced at John. He could see the shame in his friend's eyes. The doctor turned back to Dean.
"Dean, Sam's alright. He went to college, remember?"
"No, he drove him away!" Dean argued, taking deadly aim at John. "He has to pay!"
Caleb grabbed Dean as he pulled the trigger. John staggered into Mac clutching his right bicep.
"No!" Dean screamed. "You're all in on it. You all took Sam from me!"
"I'm alright," John told Mac. "Help Caleb with Dean."
Caleb has his hands full as the younger hunter struggled in his arms.
"Let me go!" Dean resisted. "Sam's in danger. I have to find him!"
"Deuce, calm down!" Caleb commanded. "Dad, you going to give me a hand here?"
"I don't dare give him a sedative," Mac said, reaching out to touch Dean.
"Stay away from me!" Dean thrashed about harder. "You can't keep me from Sam."
"Then what the hell are we going to do?"
"Choke him out," John replied through clenched teeth.
"John!" Mackland argued.
"What choice do we have?" John reasoned. "Caleb, do it."
Reaves gave his father an apologetic look as he wrapped his right arm around Dean's throat. The younger hunter struggled as Caleb applied pressure. It wasn't long before Dean slumped in his arms. Ames quickly checked the younger man as his son eased him to the floor.
"What the hell is going on?" Caleb walked over to John, helping him into a chair.
Mac checked Dean's eyes and wasn't surprised to see them dilated. "You said she was a voodoo priestess?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Many of their rituals call for them to go into trances," the doctor explained. "They use herbs and elixirs for that."
"The jars he crashed into. . ." John grimaced as Caleb ripped the sleeve off his shirt.
Mac stood and moved to John's side. "That would be my guess."
"The bullet passed right through," the dark haired hunter said. "I'll get your bag."
"He alright?" John asked.
"For now," Mackland said, looking at John's arm. "Did you really tell Sam not to come back?"
"Do we have to get into this now?" John glared. "What I did or didn't do with Sam isn't relevant right now."
"It is to Dean."
Mac didn't say anything else as Caleb returned with his bag. While his father took care of the Knight's arm, Reaves went over to Dean.
"Son, do you think you can get him back upstairs?"
"Yeah, I'll manage."
John watched as Caleb lifted his son. It was hard for him to watch as someone else cared for his eldest child. He'd already lost his youngest.