Chapter 18: Taking a Breath

When Dean emerged from the room half an hour later, he found the corridor empty. Finding himself thankful, he turned the opposite way to the direction he had come, away from Ash and Anya. The kids were great, not that they were kids, but they were nearly strangers. And he couldn't handle the pity in their eyes as they stared at him. Couldn't handle seeing their relief at having each other back. Because he wanted that same relief, to see Sam open his eyes, to have Sam in the passenger seat of the car, to just drive away and find some simple job away from anyone or anything even remotely human-looking. Because humans just always made the job messy.

After an aimless walk he found himself somehow in a small garden, void of people but overwhelming in colour and smell. Giving the whole place a distasteful glare, he nevertheless parked himself on the chair off to the side, leaning forward, elbows on knees.

He needed to think. This seemed as good a place as any. He couldn't do it in Sam's room, not while watching the machine endlessly push air into his little brother's otherwise motionless lungs. And he couldn't do it in the waiting room, not with Ash and Anya's eyes piercing him, watching his every move.

He leaned back, spreading his arms and frowning at nothing. His moment of weakness was gone, leaving him slightly hollow but with a spreading determination that was refreshing. It was like his mind was getting air again, or like fire was spreading slowly along his already boiling veins.

There had to be a way to help Sam. Some cure, some… no, the doctors would have found it already. And Ellis had looked as helpless as Dean had felt. Going by the look in the doctor's eyes, the man had had no clue how to help Sam anymore than he had already tried.

He looked down, shutting his eyes against the warmth of the sun on his face. It was a weak warmth, but after the last couple of days he had endured, it was like walking from the pits of hell to be greeted by the noon sun on a summer's day. Not that he was getting poetic or anything.

He shifted slightly, blinking to avoid falling asleep. There had to be something, some way to stop Sam from dying. And he had twenty-three and a half hours to do it, at the most.

The thought that his brother could be dead by dawn the next day was like a kick in the gut.

He closed his eyes once more, lifting his face. But he didn't feel the sun anymore. His head was running through the same list it had every five minutes for the past half hour, though this time there was a reason, or a purpose at least. It might give him a clue.

Broken ribs, infected shoulder, shot hip, concussion, unsteady heart… Broken ribs, infected shoulder, shot hip, concussion, unsteady heart… Broken ribs, demon throwing him, infected shoulder, from the… He couldn't even say it in his head. Couldn't bring himself to say that Sam had been tortured. Shot hip, Mahone did that before Mena out him down, concussion, fucking demon again… unsteady heart…

That one he didn't have a cause for. What could have caused it? But it couldn't be the problem, not when the problem was causing. Could it?

He groaned, rubbing his face and leaning forward. He was going in circles. Broken ribs, demon, shoulder, Mahone, hip, Mahone, concussion, demon, heart…

The heart had to be the demon. Nothing else could do that. His eyes shot open suddenly, alight with a new fierceness. All Sam's injuries came back to Mahone or the demon.

It did something to me, Dean…

Growling out loud, and surprising even himself, he jumped off the seat and began storming through the hospital.

The waiting room was slightly more packed than when he had left, but Dean ignored all the stares as he marched through in his scrubs.

Anya stood as he appeared, relief on her face. Ash was nowhere to be seen, but Dean didn't care. What he needed to know, only Anya could answer anyway.

"How's Sam?" she asked as he came to her, before falling silent at the angry look on his face. He didn't give her a chance to speak after that. He grabbed her uninjured arm, still ignoring the looks of everyone around, and began dragging her away.

Dean had already spied an empty room as he aimed for Anya, and that was where he took her, hand probably a little too tight around her arm. She followed without a fuss, but she was obviously confused. He only just stopped himself from slamming the door behind him.

Finally she yanked her arm out of his grip, turning to glare at him. "What is your problem?" she demanded.

"What did it do to him?" Dean spat back, quivering slightly. She frowned.

"Who did what do to who?"

Dean felt his fists clenching. "Don't fucking play games with me, Anya. What did that bastard of a demon do to my little brother?"

She flinched. "You think it's responsible for… I wasn't sure…"

Dean leaned back, rearing to his full height. "You've been thinking about it!" he accused, before lowering his voice. "And when were you going to tell me any of it?"

She glared up at him, not at all frightened by his charade. "When you got back from seeing Sam!" she growled at him. "But then you came back all angry, I thought something had happened! You haven't given me a chance to tell you anything."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "We were in that waiting room for seven fucking hours, don't give me that bullshit."

"What you think the demon explained everything in minute detail?" she seethed. "I had no clue that it had messed with Sam like it has. If I had, you would have been the first to know!"

Dean growled, spinning and rubbing his face. Not letting go of his anger just yet, he turned back to Anya. "So what did it do to him?" he demanded.

She went pale. "A lot," she told him. "After Mahone got a phone call about his men finding the couple, he was angry. They were going to question Sam again. I tried to stop them, and I did. Me and Sam were making short work of them, when the demon interfered. That's where I got this." She motioned at her bruise on her jaw. "It started killing me, and it would have if Sam hadn't broken free and tackled it. He hit it a few times… and then it grabbed him, slammed his head against the wall."

"Thus the concussion," Dean concluded, feeling his anger draining. His heart was still beating wildly though. "What next?"

"It lifted him up, began choking him. And then… I'm not sure, but it put its hand over Sam's heart. And he screamed… I think that's where the irregular beat comes from. And then it dropped Sam, grabbed his hand… and then Sam…"

She trailed off, horror misting her eyes. "What?" Dean pushed. He had to know.

"Sam began… convulsing. And screaming. Even some of Mahone's men looked horrified."

She sighed, looking away. "When Sam woke up, he couldn't remember much, until after I reminded him. Then he said it did something to him. He said something about a deal. Or something similar. He said that the demon seals its deals with a handshake. And it grabbed his hand."

"But what did it do to him?" the older hunter asked, leaning forward. "And what can we do to reverse it?"

Her eyes misted again, and she shook her head. "I don't know exactly what it did to him. When he woke up, he was tired, and he kept moving from being in pain, to not. Not that he actually said anything. But you could tell."

"What can we do to reverse it?" Dean repeated slowly. She looked away, and he knew.

"We can't?" It came out as a question, but he knew. He took a seat on the desk behind him as she shook her head.

"The demon made some kind of deal, with or without Sam's agreement. Only it can reverse it."

Dean paused for a moment, the room teasing him by refusing to move. He should have known.

After that moment though, his eyes hardened. He knew what they had to do. "I know who we have to talk to," he told Anya.

The waiting room was still pretty full when they returned, finding Ash. But the younger man wasn't alone.

Morgan saw them approach from behind Ash, and the hunter turned. Dean realized the kid was out of the clothes the hospital had given him, and was looking pretty refreshed. Judging by the duffle bag by his feet, the kid had been back to the motel. With a start he realized he wasn't sure where the Impala was.

"How's Sam?" Ash asked as Dean and Anya took a seat. Dean shook his head.

"About the same. Not good."

Morgan's eyes took on the same pitying look as the twins, and Dean ignored it. "What are you doing here, Officer?" he asked the cop. "Here to ask us some questions?"

To his surprise, Morgan shook his head. "No. I came to check on the condition of the people Mahone had down in his lair. We can get statements another time."

Anya and Dean shared a look. "Okay," Anya said slowly, frowning when Morgan smiled.

Seeing their confusion, the man chuckled. "I'm guessing you three have dealt with cops before, right?"

Dean gave a half-hearted shrug. Too often for their own good. Morgan nodded. "But I'm guessing the interaction hasn't been for shutting down a menace to society." To that, the hunters had no answer. Not one that they thought Morgan would believe anyway. The cop continued. "Lafayette is indebted to you, to all four of you. And my boss has decided to… overlook any misdemeanours you may or may not have committed while bringing Mahone down."

As Dean's jaw dropped, Morgan looked around, lowering his voice. "Mahone was a plague on this city. And you were the cure. It just doesn't mean you did the right thing, legally. We're still going to need statements," he told them. "But we're willing to wait a while. You've been through a lot, and you're getting little in return. But in the meantime, we're taking the credit for this. I'm assuming that's okay with you all?"

Dean nodded quickly. "It is," he backed up vocally. It wasn't like they ever got vast amounts of gratitude back anyway. The odd person learned the truth about what was out there, and was thankful for what they had done, but if society ever learned the truth… Dean didn't want to think about it.

Seeing the set look of their faces, Morgan nodded and stood. "I hope your brother makes it," he said to Dean as the hunter rose, offering his hand. "It's the least he deserves. And if you need anything, anything at all, call me. I'll do what I can."

Dean nodded, knowing he would never actually call the cop. He took the card nevertheless, sitting back down as Morgan left. Then he turned to Ash, feeling Anya's own determination perk up.

"Come on," he told the younger man. "We've got work to do."

The feel of his leather jacket was oddly comforting as Dean strolled around the hospital, intent on finding one room. He knew which one it was, after Anya had stolen a glimpse at a nurse's roster while Dean had distracted her. At another time, he would have been flirting with her for real. But he was working. That frame of mind was keeping him from falling over with exhaustion.

He turned a corner and spied the cop guarding the door at the other end of the hallway. And Anya coming from the opposite direction. It was her turn to do the distracting, taking the cop away so Dean could sneak into the room maybe halfway down the corridor.

After a few minutes Anya winked, aiming it for him and she and the cop left. Ash had orders to stop anyone coming from the other direction, the one Dean had come from. And Dean…

He crept up the corridor, studying the numbers above each door until he found the one he wanted. Feeling the weight of the knife at his hip, hidden by the jacket, he took a deep breath and went in.

He turned as he entered, closing the door softly. He needed to keep a hold of his emotions, had to stay calm. Outright anger wasn't going get the answers he needed.

The person in the bed behind him sat up as Dean turned around. The first thing the hunter noticed was the cuff around one hand, keeping the man locked to the bed. Then his gaze travelled upwards, fingers twitching. He met the man's eyes, and he knew he was only holding on to himself by a thread. The cold, infuriating anger in the man's eyes made him want to stab him then and there. He had tried to kill Sam. He still didn't know the details of what had happened to Mena, but he was willing to bet this man was responsible for that as well. His lips retracted into a snarl and the first hint of fear crept into the man's eyes.

"Landly."

And that's where I'll leave it. Thanks for reading!