Chapter 28 - 'He Won't Know What Hit Him'

Dean glanced nervously at Sam for the millionth time as he drove to the motel. He hated to admit it, but maybe Jane was right, Maybe Sam did need to go to the hospital. He uttered a small sigh as he pulled up outside the motel, and let the engine of the Impala fade out. Reaching over, he placed his hand on his brother's clammy and steaming hot forehead, biting his lip in concern. It wasn't good.

'Dean!' a voice called as he stepped from the car. He turned, a wave of relief crashing over him as he saw Jane standing in front of an open motel room door.

'Bring Sam in here,' Jane said. 'I wasn't sure if you had a room or not.'

'Sam probably had one,' Dean said, grunting as he lifted his unconscious brother from the car. 'But I'll be damned if I knew which one. Thanks Jane.'

He staggered through the open door and eased Sam onto the bed, Jane immediately placing a wet cloth on Sam's forehead.

'We need to get him in an ice bath,' Jane said, bustling around Sam, trying to make him comfortable. 'There's two bags of ice in my trunk. Can you go get them?'

'Sure,' said Dean, grabbing her keys and hurrying outside.

He was back in no time, carrying the large bags in and dumping them in the bath. Jane had already half filled the tub with cold water. Running his fingers anxiously through his already tousled hair, Dean strode back into the bedroom, and stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape at the sight.

'Hey!' he yelled, jumping forward and yanking the needle Jane held so closely to his brother's skin from her hand. 'What are you doing?' Dean exclaimed, moving over to the sink and squirting the substance down the drain.

'Dean. Calm down,' said Jane, her face marred with confusion at Dean's change of attitude. 'I thought you wanted me here to make Sam better.'

'What was that?' asked Dean angrily. 'You should've asked me first!'

'Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't think it mattered. All you told me was to make Sam better,' said Jane cautiously. She held up a bottle. 'It was just antibiotics. It could help.'

The angry look on Dean's face melted away, and was replaced with a forlorn expression.

'I'm sorry,' he sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. 'It's just…we've been through a lot lately.'

He shuddered as he looked at the needle in his hand, and dropped it into the sink almost in fright. Jane didn't miss this, and her expression turned into a concerned one.

'It's ok Dean, its fine,' she said, her voice smooth and soothing. 'But we need to get this fever down. Can you help me put him in the bath? Then maybe we can have a little chat.'

Dean just nodded his head numbly and helped her strip Sam down to his boxers. They carried him into the bathroom, and gently placed him in the icy bath. Dean was kneeling beside Sam's head, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, when Sam's eyes suddenly flew open, a gasp escaping his lips as the icy water surrounded his body, trapping him, sending a chill through his battered bones, and his arm snaked out and gripped Dean's throat tightly. Dean gasped as his air supply was cut off, and he began choking, his fingers clawing desperately at Sam's hand. Sam sat up, panting over the shock of waking up in such iciness, his hand gripping Dean's throat tighter than ever.

'Sam!' cried out Jane. 'Let him go!'

Sam looked over at this stranger, yelling at him, wondering what she was going on about, and why she was even there. He ignored her, and his gaze averted to Dean, who was still an arm's length away. He stared in shock momentarily; he hadn't realised what he was doing; before he let go and lay back down, his hand sliding back into the tub, and rubbing his pounding head soothingly.

'Sorry,' he muttered, closing his eyes.

'It's ok Sammy,' choked out Dean, gasping in air and rubbing his throat with the back of his hand. 'You just caught me by surprise little brother.'

As Dean leant back against the wall, he glanced at Sam, who had lapsed back into unconsciousness.

'He's completely out of it,' said Jane, worried. 'He hasn't got a clue about anything.'

She left the bathroom, returning with two chairs.

'C'mon Dean, there's nothing more we can do right now,' she said, sitting down and opening a first aid kit. 'Come and sit down so I can look at your injuries.'

'I'm fine,' muttered Dean, still rubbing his throat tenderly with the back of his hand.

'Dean…' Jane said in a no-nonsense tone.

'Fine! But make it quick,' grumbled Dean, plopping into the other chair.

'Now Dean I need to know something,' said Jane, grabbing his hands and turning them palms up. 'How did this happen?'

'Poker,' muttered Dean distastefully.

'Oh, so you willingly gripped the business end of a red-hot poker with your bare hands,' said Jane sarcastically. She began rubbing cream into the wounds, which had started healing slightly. 'You have to tell me Dean, everything. I saw you flinch when you looked at that needle.' She looked him dead in the eye. 'Who did this to you?'

Dean looked away and went silent, his eyes resting on Sam as he began to speak.

'Just…this guy that has it in for our family,' he said with a sigh, studying his wounded hands. 'He killed my mother when I was four…he killed Sam's girlfriend…he killed my Dad…he killed the one woman I have ever loved. We've been looking for him our whole damn lives, but I guess he found us first.' Dean's eyes met Jane's shocked expression, and she could see the tortured look in Dean's eyes; could see into his battered soul. Dean felt her gaze and shifted uncomfortably, shrugging his shoulders.

'It's not like I can do anything about it now. We're just lucky that we got out alive. The last thing I can lose right now is my brother.'

'You're very lucky,' said Jane. She finished rubbing the cream into Dean's hands. 'I won't bandage your hands, because they are already healing, but I need you to rub this cream into them daily.'

'Yep,' acknowledged Dean, knowing too well that he wouldn't. He grabbed a wet cloth that sat nearby and began dabbing his broken nose.

'That'll heal itself,' Jane informed him, 'over time. Any other injuries I should look at?'

'None that need attending too now,' replied Dean standing up. 'Can we get Sam outta there now? He came close to dying of hypothermia not long ago…I don't want to risk triggering it again.'

Jane went over to Sam, placing her hand on his head.

'He feels a little cooler,' she said, glancing at Dean. 'But you know, if we gave him some antibiotics it'd be more helpful.'

'I'm still thinking about it,' Dean muttered.

'It could save his life.'

Dean paused. 'I'm thinking about it,' he repeated.

Jane just shrugged and drained the water out of the bath, and with the help of Dean, got Sam out of the tub, dried, and tucked safely into the warm motel bed, wearing his usual sleeping gear of trackies and a t-shirt.

'Dean…if I'm going to give him anything, it has to be now,' said Jane in desperation. 'Otherwise it could be too late.'

Silence fell between then, Jane's eyes pleading with Dean's, so pleading that he looked away uncomfortably.

'You have to trust me,' Jane said softly. 'It could save his life.'

Dean looked up at her again, his eyes emotional and worried.

'I don't want him to die…but I want to do what's best for him.'

'Then let me give him the injection.'

With a final reluctant glance at his unconscious brother, Dean nodded his head.

'Do it.'

Jane breathed a sigh of relief, and retrieved her needle and bottle of antibiotics.

'You've made the right choice,' she assured Dean, carefully measuring out the correct amount of the substance. With Dean hovering over her shoulder, she carefully inserted the needle into the crook of Sam's right arm, draining the antibiotics into his system.

'All done,' she said brightly, placing the needle back into the first aid kit. 'Excuse me; I need to make a phone call. I'll leave you two alone.'

She slipped out of the room, and Dean pulled up a chair beside Sam, who appeared to be having a nightmare. He reached out, brushing Sam's hair out of his eyes, smiling with relief and worry when Sam's eyes opened.

'Dean?' Sam muttered, his hand searching for his brother.

'Hey Sammy,' said Dean, grasping Sam's hand. 'Welcome back.'

Sam turned his head, his gaze on Dean.

'It's Sam.'

Dean chuckled lightly, but it faded as pain shone onto Sam's face.

'Where's it hurt Sam?' Dean asked. 'We need to fix your injuries, but it's been a hell of a couple of weeks for us, and I'll be damned if I can remember what's wrong with you.'

Sam paused, clenching his eyes shut.

'Everywhere,' he finally moaned. 'But inside…inside my body hurts most. It's aching…burning.'

His eyes were still shut tightly as the pain shot through his body and he convulsed slightly, finally easing, and allowing him to relax. His eyes remained closed, his body went limp, and he slept, his hand still firmly grasping Dean's, unwilling to let go.

Outside the door, Jane moved away from the small crack, satisfied with what she had seen and heard, and pulled out her phone.

'Aaron, it's Jane. I gave it to him. He probably has two to three days max.' She paused. 'Of course it'll be painful. He won't know what hit him.'

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Sorry if i'm boring you :P

here's the latest, hope you enjoy :)

thanks to my beta Steff and Laura for ideas.

an update will be soon, in the next couple of days, stick round!

Nikki