CHAPTER FIVE

Sam and Dean had always fantasized about staying in one place and relaxing. Vacationing was an alien concept to them. Now that they fallen down a slippery slope into one, both were getting restless. Well, Dean less so than Sam since the younger of the two brothers was virtually on house arrest. He felt like his poor health was like an ankle monitoring device binding him to Bobby's house.

To say that he felt like a 160-pound burden would be an understatement. Dean and Bobby left him alone in the house for several hours at a time, trying to sift out the fake cases from the dire ones. A week ago, Dean and Bobby had returned from expunging a poltergeist at an orphanage. They had been gone for four days straight. Sam started to call them rather than texting them on the third day because his voice was starting to hurt less when he talked. He was sucking on cough drops so much his mouth felt numb.

The only thing that had lifted Sam out of his funk was seeing the look on Dean's face when his big brother saw him. Some color had returned to Sam's skin, his hair looked healthier, and the twinkle in his eyes was starting to come out of the darkness. Sam felt so starved for human contact he could rival it with his food deprivation. Dean would accompany Sam on walks and spot for him whenever Sam felt up to exercising. He never admitted that he missed his partner in crime.

But, Sam could tell by how much Dean relented into hanging out with his little brother when he otherwise would have found an excuse to get away. He began to suspect that Dean's complete one-eighty on his attitude towards him might be out of some unwarranted feeling of guilt. Sam was seated at the small kitchen table as usual. He suspected that Dean was the one who had placed the couch cushion on the seat. Sam wondered if maybe being cooped-up in the house was starting to make him crazy ... well, more crazy than usual.

"I need to get out, Dean." he growled at his plate of microwavable chicken and canned corn.

They had run out of food since Sam was on a extended-binge to get back to his normal weight. Dean had fretted aloud that they didn't have enough for all three of them for dinner. Sam's feeling of being a burden to them redoubled when Dean and Bobby had forced their food on him. They had said something along the lines of 'if you won't eat it, it'll go in the trash, so don't waste it' when Sam insisted on them eating some. Dean was in the living room, watching the old television set with Bobby.

Though the volume was rather high, judging by approaching footsteps, Dean's Sammy-high-alert ears had heard his groan perfectly.

"I know you do, Sammy." said Dean as he tossed his beer bottle into the trashcan from across the room. "We'll go wherever you want once you're better."

Sam shared an ugly look with Dean. Dean was only frustrated because Sam hadn't touched his food yet. Sam was angry about hearing that repetitive answer whenever he complained about being stuck alone in the house majority of the time.

Sam grumbled, "When will that be?"

Dean spun the seat on the opposite side of the table around and sat on it in the wrong direction. He squinted into Sam's eyes, sensing the bubbling attitude, "Oh, I don't know. When I don't have to worry about you puking your guts out if you walk for too long. When I have a chance to breathe knowing that you can take care of yourself."

"I can," growled Sam.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Really? Who has to go to the grocery store four times a week? We're hunters, man. The job doesn't exactly pay well."

Sam curled his lip and heaved himself to his feet, "I just remembered that I don't even need your permission to get some air. It was just common courtesy."

Sam ripped his bandages off of his hands as he stomped towards the door. Freedom was screaming for him. He heard the legs of Dean's chair scrape against the floor as Dean leapt to his feet to stop him. Sam made it out to the porch when he felt Dean's strong grip entwine around Sam's bicep.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going?" said Dean, pulling Sam back towards the house.

Sam latched his other, albeit barely-healed, hand on the stair railing, "I need to go, Dean. If you want to keep your hand, you'll let go of me."

Dean frowned at the back of his brother's head, his grip not slackening, "What's gotten into you, Sammy? You can't be on your own!"

Sam twisted around, glaring down at his brother, "Really? Because I was just fine during those two months without you."

"What are you talking about? I was right there!" Dean yelled as Bobby rolled around to the open doorway.

"Could have fooled me," said Sam quietly. "And that's the worst part of this whole thing." Dean scoffed and let go of Sam's arm, "So, you think you're 'fine', huh? I must have just imagined the incredible-shrinking-Sammy -"

"Which you didn't notice till I died at that hospital! And don't call me 'Sammy' anymore. Sorry to break it to you, but, I'm not a kid anymore, Dean."

Dean shifted on his feet agitatedly, "You think you're some big, tough adult all of a sudden? Well, then GO!" Dean's sudden eruption surprised Sam out of his own anger; Dean shoved him when Sam remained frozen. "PROVE IT! Prove it that you don't need me anymore!"

"Dean, what the hell are you do-" began Bobby, but he was drowned-out by Dean's next roar.

"GO! I'm not gonna stop you!"

This was what Sam had wanted, right? Maybe he just wanted to be heard. Maybe he wanted Dean to taste at least the top layer of how messed-up Sam felt. Sam shook his head, fixed Dean with a dirty look which cleaned when his eyes drifted over Bobby, and disappeared into the shadows casted by the rising full moon.

Dean slammed the door closed with a bang when he stomped back into the house, "He was screaming his lungs out for help and I just ignored him."

He nearly plowed right over Bobby. Dean had to awkwardly jump-stumble around his uncle. He already knew that Sam's betrayal had filled him with so much rage and uncertainty that he was blind and deaf to Sam slipping health. Hearing Sam say it out loud, telling him how betrayed Sam felt, made the intensity of Dean's self-loathing increase ten-fold.

Bobby wheeled around to follow Dean into the kitchen, "What do you mean?"

"You heard him!" yelled Dean, gesturing at the front door with a wave of his hand. "And he's not wrong! I could have stopped all of this! But, I just couldn't swallow -"

All the breath evaporated from Dean's lungs as he passed the little table where Sam had abandoned his dinner. He gasped and bent over till his hands were holding him up by grabbing his knees. He felt like he had been punched in his diaphragm. Bobby wheeled closer to him. Dean walked around him over to the table and sat back down.

"I'm sorry, Bobby." said Dean as he hid his face behind his bandaged hand, trying to catch his breath.

Bobby wheeled himself up to the table and looked up at Dean, "It hurts, what he did. I felt it, I know it. You have every right to be angry with him."

Dean slid his hand down to his mouth then laid that arm out on the table, "Do I? What he did ... he didn't mean to hurt me. But ..."

"What?"

"I wanted him to hurt. I guess I got what I wanted, huh?"

Sam stuffed his scaring hands, aching with cold, deep down into his jean pockets. He wished he had thought to grab his hoodie or at least a jacket. The fight had erupted too fast for any common-sense. It was so chilly outside and his long-sleeved, baggy, dark green shirt wasn't making any difference. Of course, Sam wouldn't know seeing as he had been pretty much behind bars over the last week or so. He had forgotten what day of the week or month it was.

He had turned left after making his way through Bobby's junk and was coming up to the 'downtown' area of the county. Of all the times they had visited Bobby, Sam didn't remember much about the area. The only memory he had was sitting alone while Dean danced with a couple of girls at some nightclub. The sidewalks were crawling with insomniacs. Men and women his age or younger were laughing and screaming at each other.

Sam wondered what was the occasion as he paved a path through the thick crowd. He was used to the stares he got because of his height and he was certainly getting a lot tonight. A sign caught his eyes with its familiarity. It was the nightclub, The Place.

"Creative," Sam scoffed under his breath, though he couldn't be heard over the roar of the surrounding conversations anyway.

The sign was a bit brighter than he remembered. But, he had definitely been in there before. Between the choice of turning into an ice sculpture and getting warm in a dirty nightclub ... there was no choice. Sam ducked into the building and felt his ears go numb by the thumping of the stereo. The music was so loud his ears could hardly comprehend it. Sam made his way to the back of the club and sat down on a stool.

He rested his head against the wall and just watched the churning crowd. Sam thought of the things he had told Dean just a short while ago. He wondered if when he returned if Dean will have ditched him. Sam closed his eyes and felt his body slacken as though he were about to fall asleep. Then, he felt a tap on his knee. He frowned and straightened up, looking for the source of his disturbance.

It was a small woman. She would barely stand further than his shoulder and must be a little younger than he was. She was quite pretty with medium-length dark hair, dark eyes, and striking black eyebrows. She reminded him of Ruby. She was wearing a white tank top and a maroon skirt that ended near her knees. She didn't look as revealing as the rest of the girls Sam had seen there so far.

The girl leaned forward and Sam turned his face towards her to listen to her yell over the music, "You look bored!"

She pulled back and Sam shook his head, yelling back, "Dancing's not my thing!"

The girl smiled widely. She had beautiful white teeth, "Then why did you come in here!?"

Sam shrugged and gave her a small, innocent smile. He felt her tiny fingers entwine in his.

"Come with me!" said the girl, leaning back and pulling him to his feet. "Everyone's welcome here!"

Sam didn't know what he had gotten himself into. The girl wouldn't let go and she pulled him to the center of the crowd. Sam tried to keep her from getting elbowed and pushed by the swaying crowd. He thought how his older brother would cringe listening to this hip-hop music. The girl stopped and, without facing him, grabbed his other hand and placed them on her hips.

Sam's weak heart was racing with nervousness as he tried to follow her swaying hips. He brought her closer to make it easier. She laid her head against his chest and stroked his hands on her hips. Sam knew that when ... if ... he told Dean about this, his brother would be astonished.

Sam followed the girl out of The Place. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled this widely. That depressing thought wiped it from his face. Even if it hadn't saddened him, the hunger pang that erupted from his stomach would have wiped it away anyway. The girl had her hand wrapped around his wrist and was tugging him across the street to a hamburger joint.

"I'm hungry," she called over her shoulder up to him. "I bet you can use a hamburger," she redoubled her sweaty grip on his boney wrist and said under her breath, "... or a few."

Sam didn't object. He couldn't concentrate on anything else until his stomach was filled. He felt like he could eat out the whole fast food place. He didn't care right now how unhealthy it would be and mentally kicked himself for not eating the food Dean had forced on him. Sam quickened his step to beat the small girl to the door, her hand slipping off his wrist as he wrenched open the door for her.

He hoped she didn't notice his arm trembling with the weight of the metal door. Maybe dancing had been too much for his already-fast metabolism. He had burned up every calorie in his being. He dropped down onto a stool at the bar and watched as the girl had to pretty much climb onto hers.

"I didn't even ask for your name," said Sam apologetically.

The girl pulled her hair over one shoulder and smiled up at him, "Sorry, I should have said it anyway. I'm Lana."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "My name is Sam."

Her smiled widened, "That's my brother's name."

Sam laughed and extended his hand for her to shake, "Cool."

She shook it up and down and they laughed at the silliness of it. Lana ordered a hamburger with fries and Sam decided to get that with an extra plate of fries. When the food arrived, Sam found himself regretting doubling his order of fries. This restaurant clearly didn't mind fattening up their customers what with the over-sized portions they were served. Lana seemed to find it ridiculous, too.

"Whoa," she scoffed at his plate as he immediately took a bite of his large hamburger. "Somebody's hungry!"

Sam wiped his mouth on the back of his hand while the other reached for a napkin, "I've never eaten here before."

"Then, I probably should have warned you." Lana giggled, eating a French fry.

They fell silent as they made their way to finish their plates. Sam made note of how comfortable this girl was with eating a full meal that wasn't a salad with a guy she didn't know. She impressed him. Too bad this would be the last time he'd be able to hang with her. She seemed cool.

About a half an hour later of occasional routine questions and much scarping on Sam's part, he found his belly fit-to-burst again beneath his baggy green sweatshirt. Sam groaned in satisfaction and leaned his elbows on the counter, watching her push her almost-finished plate away.

She laughed when she saw that his two plates were empty, "I cannot believe you ate all that."

Sam felt his cheeks flush and he hid his embarrassment with a chuckle, "I probably wouldn't have been this hungry if you hadn't made me dance." When Lana looked like she was about to apologize, Sam continued, "Thank you. It was very kind of you."

Lana dabbed at her lips with her napkin, "You're very welcome, Sammy."

Sam's heart pinged at the nickname. He wondered how long he had been gone. Would Dean really worry about him after their fight? Should Sam be worrying about Dean worrying about him? He glanced over Jessica's head at the clock on the wall. It was two in the morning. As though on queue, Lana yawned behind her hand.

"I'm tired," she explained unnecessarily.

Sam nodded, feeling his eyes burn with sleepiness, "Me, too."

They paid the waiter behind the counter and Sam held the door open for her again as they exited the hamburger joint. His arm wasn't shaking anymore now that he had eaten. Lana crossed her arms over her stomach and started shivering in the strong chill billowing around them.

"I'd give you my sweater but it's the only shirt I've got on," said Sam as he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and hunched his shoulders up.

Lana's mouth gaped up at him, "You're kidding. How did you get here?"

Sam scrunched up his nose, "I walked. It wasn't too bad."

"No, offence. But, you're kind of a toothpick - a tall toothpick," Lana giggled as Sam made a sheepish grin. "You'll freeze to death. Let me give you a ride home. It's not far, right?"

"Not by car," Sam hoped.

It took a couple of minutes for Lana's little Kia to warm-up since it was quite old. Sam was used to it, though. Being cold was something he has had to deal with constantly for almost three months. This night, however, he felt it weakening him. It was either that or his muscles were just aching to rest. Sam permitted himself to close his eyes for a moment, hoping it wouldn't be a mistake.

It was good that Lana was familiar with the location of Bobby's house. So, Sam didn't have to give her much directions before he rested his eyes. She glanced at him as they pulled up to the house and saw that he had fallen asleep. They rocked in the car as she shut off the engine.

She gave him a little shake but he didn't wake-up, "I hope you're not some druggie."

Lana got out and walked around her car to open Sam's door. Opening it made her car shake a little and Sam stirred.

"Wake-up, sleepyhead." she cooed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sam gave her a small smile and tried to straighten himself up after slumping in the passenger seat and felt a wave of nausea spread up to his throat. He swallowed painfully and tried to get up again but it was clear that he couldn't get out on his own and Lana was too petite to take his weight. Sam peaked his eyes open at her and saw how scared she looked.

"Are you okay?" Lana asked timidly.

"I'm sorry," Sam winced and squeezed his eyes shut, laying his hand on his stomach. "Can you knock on the door and get my brother for me? "

They heard the screen door on the porch smack as it closed. Dean stomped down the steps, paused for a moment after spotting the girl, and broke into a run when he saw the worry in her eyes lit up by the lights from inside Bobby's house. Lana took a few steps back quickly to avoid being run-over by Dean.

"Sam!" exclaimed Dean.

He hadn't left Sam. Their eyes met once before Sam's eyes rolled upward and remained open as he fell unconscious.