Against the Current

by Visionairy

Spoilers for 5x14. Famine is dead, and now Sam and Dean have to figure out how they can fight the apocalypse if one is hopeless and the other is dead inside. But first they have to get to Bobby's.

Chapter 2

Sometimes Dean believed he was as dead inside as Famine had described, and sometimes he just wished he was. Looking at the pain and regret in his brother's eyes, Dean wished he could be numb, that he wouldn't feel his brother's pain just as intensely as his own. But he obviously wasn't numb, wasn't immune to the pain. As long as he and Sam stayed together, and cared so deeply about each other, then he would at least know through the pain that he was still alive inside. So Dean filed that away for later.

Leaning forward, Sam folded his arm in against his stomach.

"Sam?"

"I don't know – it just..," he swallowed and hesitated for a minute, face creased in pain. Gradually, he straightened most of the way up, "It's okay now."

Dean looked closely at his brother. Sweat had broken out on Sam's forehead and upper lip, and his pallor made even Cas looked tanned. Either way, it didn't look like Sam was handling his latest binge very well. The faster they got to Bobby's, as far as Dean was concerned, the better. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Sammy, look, it's probably best if we…"

"I know." Sam said quietly, "I know. I have to go back there. I want to walk in there myself this time." His hands flexed at his sides. "But, honestly Dean, I don't know if I can do it. I don't know how long I'll be able to go without – when I'll start to crave it – or when I can't control ..." He shook his head in frustration. "Last time it took a few days before I got the shakes. But, Ruby, she'd been amping me up gradually – I was using more and more over a long time. This time, Dean," he choked on the words, "I drank - a lot.

"And," Sam nodded significantly at his brother, "I used it all up in there. I don't feel pumped up, I already feel like crap. Not that I shouldn't." Sam stopped for a minute and then looked over to find their companion, "Castiel, can't you just uh, drop me in the panic room right now? Just lock the door and then meet back up with Dean?" He turned back to work on his brother, "Bobby could just call you guys when he figures I'm …uh, … clean - and then you can decide," he moved uncomfortably again, "…decide what to do."

"Wait, just," Dean pointed at their friend, "… just give us a minute, Cas." Cas didn't look like he felt like doing much of anything right then anyway.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him to the side, "Look, you didn't go into withdrawal until a good few days after you stopped 'using' last time, and it's only about, what, 18 hours to Bobby's from here. So you ride with us for as long as you can, and then Cas beams you the rest of the way if it starts to get bad."

Sam took a step toward his brother, "IF it starts to get bad, Dean?" his voice rose in frustration, "Bad is the only way this is going to go! It's just a matter of time now."

"Chill, Sam," Dean moved his hand and pressed it against the front of his brother's chest as he eyed his unsteady sibling. Was it safer to get Sam to the panic room immediately, or should he stay right with his brother as long as he could? Dean just wanted to keep an eye on him as long as he could – make sure he was okay, but his brother had a point; psycho-Sam in the car on the road would be a dangerous combination. The panic room had barely held him – well, when it had held him.

Dean hesitantly turned around, "Cas, what do you think?"

Apparently, Cas was having issues of his own. It was clear that Cas's stomach wasn't willing to hold onto all the burgers he'd eaten either. Wiping his face, he turned back towards the boys, "I am not feeling so well myself."

"Woah, I guess not." Dean pulled Sam a couple of steps in the opposite direction, "You okay?"

"Yes, my body will recover," Castiel informed them in his patient monotone, "But it does not appear it will be comfortable."

"Who'da thought?" Dean exchanged a rueful glance with Sam, "So, Cas, could you zap Sam to Bobby's? Keep an eye on him till I can get there?"

A hint of guilt flashed briefly across the angel's face, but managed to pass as indigestion. "I do not think I should do that." He burped miserably. "If I try it now, it could go wrong."

"Go wrong?" Dean studied Cas, "What do you mean, 'go wrong'?"

Another sound issued from the angel, and he looked quite uncomfortable, "It does take a certain amount of focused energy to travel from one place to another. If I'm off, at all, we could end up somewhere other than I planned."

Dean considered this for a moment, and shuddered "Well, that's just great." Shaking his head, he turned back to his brother, "Well screw this - we stick with Plan A. As soon as we grab our stuff, we hit the road." Dean started steering his brother toward the car, "We'll just have to get you to Bobby's before your Jekyll lets Hyde out to play." He squeezed him briefly on the shoulder before lowering his voice so only his brother could hear. "Just hang in there, Sammy. I got you."

"Dean," Sam sighed and stopped to face his brother, "I'm going to try, I will, but I couldn't control it last time. And once I start to lose it, I don't know what I'll do. And," he waved his hand near his head. "…once it all starts, it's not something I can choose to ignore. And then the hallucinations," he punched his fist into the side of his thigh, "I don't even know what I'm saying or doing." He shook his head, and then pushed his bangs back from his forehead. "Look, If we're going to do it this way, you'll gonna need to use cuffs, and tie me down, too." He paused for a second, "Better yet, drug me. Get the good drugs – dope me up and don't let me down till we get there!"

Dean looked at his brother sadly and shook his head, decision made, "No way, Sam. Ain't gonna happen." He put his hand on his brother's shoulder, once again prodding him toward the car.

Sam moved in the right direction, but wasn't ready to concede, "Why not, Dean? It's a hell of lot better then risking me running us off the road somewhere."

"No." Dean reached the car and slammed his hand on the roof, "First of all, I don't know how the hell it'd react with the other crap in your system." He glared at Sam, "Do you?" He paused, and watched as Sam rolled his eyes. "No," he put his finger up, "It's not happening."

Dean crossed his arms and watched as Castiel opened the door to the back seat. "Hey, Cas, can you - even feeling like shit - could you just put him to sleep till we get there?"

"That the best way you could word it?" Sam quietly grumbled.

Dean swatted him, and Cas ignored them while he considered it, "It would not be wise. In that state, Sam would succumb to the effects more quickly, and violently, if he was not aware of his own mind."

Dean threw out his arms in frustration, "Well what the hell do you suggest Cas, there's nowhere else safe for him to detox and we don't know how much time we have."

Castiel burped again, and wiped his mouth. "It would be best if I put his body to sleep, but not his mind. But he…" Cas hesitated and then turned then to face the taller Winchester, "… but you would not find that to be pleasant, Sam."

"What," Dean asked,"…like a dream state?" They'd been there, done that, and were certainly not anxious to do it again.

"No, it would be more like a temporary paralysis. He could move his head and he'd be able to see and hear what was going on around him, but would be unable to move anything below his neck. He would in effect not be able to do anything to oppose you."

"Sounds good," Sam stepped forward, "I'll do it."

Dean turned back to Castiel, "You can't mess this up - even if you're sick? He'll come out of it okay?"

"I will not hurt your brother, Dean." And again, Dean thought he noticed an uncomfortable expression pass briefly across Cas' face, but if it had been there, it was gone now.

Dean looked back over at Sam, "You're sure? You're okay with this?"

Sam nodded, "As long as I can't hurt anyone else, I'm in." Sam opened the door and dropped down into the familiar seat of the Impala. "You know, you should cuff me while we go back to get our stuff."

"Sam," Dean grimaced, "It's only ten minutes away. Can you hang in till then?"

Sam wondered how Dean could possibly trust his opinion, and he was ready to point out that obviously he had no control over himself - but seeing the slump of Dean's shoulders, he just couldn't bring himself to say it. And he desperately hoped he wouldn't regret his response, "I'll be okay until then, but as soon as you can, Cas, take me down."

Dean knew it was time to get moving. Slamming Sam's door, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and gestured toward the back seat, "You heard the man, Cas, get in, let's go."

It'd only taken another two minutes to grab their gear from the motel room. Luckily, nobody in town had come looking in their room while they were gone. It was still the same gory mess Sam had left it. Cas was busy putting the bags in the trunk while Dean sat down again behind the wheel, leaning over to where Sam was sitting miserably in the passenger's seat. Dean was still hovering, which meant he was worried, and Sam could tell. "Guess you better get yourself comfortable."

Sam just stretched out his legs as best he could and pressed himself back as far as he possible into the seat, "You might as well get on with it – this is as good as it's going to get."

Dean smacked his brother on the knee, "I'm telling you, Sam, you better have made a pit stop recently, cause I'm not dragging your frozen ass into a gas station john."

"Dean! Just do it already!" Frustration filled his voice and Dean wasn't sure if it was from the current situation, or a taste of things to come. He grabbed the pillows he'd liberated from the room and slid them in between his brother and the door, putting one up against the window to prop his head against.

Sam was extremely tempted to heave the pillow back at his sibling, but worked on controlling his rising irritation. He would have to do everything in his power to control his emotions if he was going to be any help at all on this trip.

Dean grabbed a couple of bottles of water and put them in easy reach. He watched as Sam searched for the belt, jerked it across his lap and then shoved it into the buckle. "Wow, bet you're wishing we had shoulder belts right about now – could be awkward if I hit the brakes."

"Just," Sam once again resisted growling at his brother, "Just be careful."

Cas slid into the back seat, closed the door and leaned forward. "Are you ready for this, Sam?"

Dean looked at his brother's face. He certainly wasn't looking any better, "You good?"

"Let's just get it over wi...," and before Sam could finish his sentence, Castiel touched his neck – and he felt the disconcerting loss of his body. It was creepy.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean's concerned voice broke through his thoughts.

"I'm g'd," Sam slurred, "s' weird."

Dean looked closer. "Weird? You're not having any trouble breathing or anything, right?" He turned, "Cas?!"

Sam tried an experimental deep breath and shook his head clumsily, "Nah – "

"A little," Cas groaned from where he was stretched out in the back seat, "my stomach still feels like it's going to rupture."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother while his thumb and forefinger moved out to encircle Sam's wrist. He held it just long enough to assure himself of a consistent pulse before he raised it up even to his brother's eyes, smiled, and then let go. Sam's eyes followed as it flopped onto his leg where it bounced twice before it lay awkwardly in his lap.

Sam rolled his head to face his brother, "S'this the way th'ole trip's gonna be?"

Dean smirked at his sibling, "At least it's entertaining."

Sam huffed, "So gl'd I can c'ntribute – con-tri-bute." At least control of his tongue was starting to return.

Dean patted his knee patronizingly, "There you go, just keep practicing." Dean smirked, and putting the key in the ignition, he started the engine, "Cas, you okay? Cause if you're thinking of puking again, this is the last chance. You know the rules."

Cas was restless in the back seat, and groaned as he moved again. "I will do my best to adhere to your request."

"Good. Just - keep it that way." He met Sam's eyes, and read the weight of the world there. "Hey, why don't you try some of those zen chants you used to do, Stanford boy." It was going to be a rough ride with Sam staring at the side of his head the whole way. "You're going to need it later."

A rough laugh was his response. Sam looked at him as if he had something more to say, but then as Dean pulled away from the motel and headed out of town, he just pushed his head back against the pillows and stared out the window.

tbc

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