He Thinks It's All Over Chapter 3
Dean gazed at her, wondering if he was still asleep and this was just a really weird dream of 'Sam' proportions.
"I hold the..." Finally he remembered to blink. "Come again?"
Joey chuckled. She always did find Dean's reactions rather comical and simply adored his sense of humour.
"Being able to assist in the healing process often means having to violate the sanctity of the patient's mind." Dean's sharp brain immediately picked up on her use of the word 'patient'. She's obviously done this too many times before.
"It's helpful to know what makes a person tick before you start messing about with whatever ails them."
It wasn't what she said, that part made a sort of sense to Dean, it was rather how she said it. The words she used should have come from some college professor in a tweed suit with elbow patches, not from an often foul mouthed Londoner whose favourite party piece was belching the theme tune to 'High Chaparral', though Dean had to admit he'd been impressed at the time. He mentally shook himself when he realised Joey was speaking again.
"Oy! Wakey, wakey Winchester! Am I fuckin' talkin' to meself 'ere or what?"
There she is! Dean covered a smirk and wondered not for the first time why his father never kicked her ass for such language; John had been pretty strict about cursing and swearing where his sons were concerned, but then again he'd also spent some considerable time in the
Marines, who weren't exactly famous for singing hymns on the parade square nor expressions of cherubic innocence on the battle field. Whatever, there was obviously something about the woman that made his father just a little more tolerant than usual. "Sorry. Still a little out of it I guess."
Joey's gaze softened. "As I was saying, Ellicott's latched onto Sam."
Dean sat up straighter. "How?"
Joey was silent for a long moment as if wondering if she should answer him, but clearly she felt it necessary because she nodded to herself. "Guilt." At Dean's raised eyebrow she explained. "He's latched onto Sam's guilt, and that's what's torturing your brother. That's why Ellicott's still here. And there's something else that's important here too. Something that Sam's thought of, but he's been unable to fully process its significance, what with his mind stuck in an involuntary loop."
"What?" Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees and clasped hands resting between them.
"Sam's the first ever victim to survive the full effects of Ellicott's 'treatment' right? All the other's killed someone close to them then went on to kill themselves."
"And that's why Sam tried to stab himself." Dean rested sad eyes on his sleeping brother.
"Yeah." Joey nodded. "He was protecting you and still is."
A sharp phantom pain went through Dean on hearing that, and it took him a little while before he could speak again.
"So Ellicott found he couldn't use Sam's anger again and started using his guilt instead?" When Joey just nodded again, Dean sighed. This was getting more and more complicated by the second.
"Sam was ready for him, but Ellicott found another way, and now Sam's mind is stuck in a feedback loop of the events at the Asylum and it won't end until either you or Sam are dead. Ellicott's hoping to break Sam by showing him what he did to you, and what he might have done." Joey winced before added "and it's slowly killing him."
Dean fell back on the bed with a bounce and stared at the ceiling. He could now acknowledge the part he'd played in all this; he'd added to Sam's guilt, refusing to talk to him, spend time with him, denying Sam the chance to talk it through when he so obviously needed to, needed the reassurance that can only come from forgiveness. And all because Dean had been petty and spiteful, wanting some kind of payback for the pain Sam's words in Roosevelt had caused. He hadn't wanted to talk about it because he was a coward and couldn't face the fact that Sam's words, although hurtful, contained more than a few grains of truth.
He was protecting you...
Dean felt his eyes stinging and blinked away the threatening tears. This round of self-deprecation wasn't helping Sam defeat Ellicott. Then some of what Joey said came back and smacked him well and truly in the face.
"Killing him?" Dean sat up as though someone had lit a fire under him. "You mean that Ellicott can still get to him when he's unconscious? Even though he's spent the last few days drugged up to the eyeballs? The kid's damn near comatose!"
Joey smiled grimly. "'Fraid so. Don't get me wrong; I think you did the right thing givin' him valium. It was the kindest thing you could have done for him, 'cos I can only begin to imagine the amount of pain Sam was in." She shook back her hair and gathered it in a high ponytail, before slipping on a scrunchy to hold it in place. "but that's only treating the physical symptoms. Ellicott, whilst he's latched on to Sam, can pretty much go anywhere he fucking wants in Sam's head. 'Cos he's a bastard. But it's also why Sam's so feverish; he's fighting Ellicott, not letting him take over."
Dean covered his eyes with a hand. "Oh Christ!" Dragging his hand downwards and feeling the stubble of the last few days, Dean raised weary eyes to Joey. "So what now? We can't exactly salt and burn my brother just to get rid of Ellicott!" He heard the frustration in his voice and hung his head.
"No. I don't think Sam would take too kindly to that!" Joey smirked. Grin fading she reached over and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Let's go over it all, find out if there's something we've missed. Don't worry, we'll figure it out mate."
Dean nodded and sat back on the bed.
The two of them spent the next few hours going over every detail of the incident in the basement, even down to how Sam was standing, what he was wearing, and his exact words to Dean before, during and after shooting him with rock salt.
At one point Joey, who was busy making notes on a pad, looked up to find Dean staring at her.
"You all right m'darlin'?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, sorry." Dean averted his eyes and moved across the room to sit by Sam. He touched the back of his hand to his little brother's forehead and frowned. The fever was still raging.
"It's just that I didn't even go into much detail when I called Dad for help, and yet you sit here talking about it all as though you were actually there, watching it."
It was the closest he could get to asking her outright, but Joey merely smiled sadly. "In a way I was, now that I've seen it in Sam's mind." The smile faded again. "Sam's being forced to play it out every which way, but he's not letting Ellicott win. He really does feel bad about the things he said. I could feel it. But somehow...I don't know, there's something telling me that the answer's so simple we'll bloody kick ourselves."
"What do you mean?" Dean turned to Joey in surprise. "Sounds like its pretty damn complicated to me!"
"Sam's only the half of it. There must be something else that allowed Ellicott to get such a firm grip on him to start with, and I'm not just talking about Sam's abilities." Joey laughed a little at Dean's expression. "Of course I saw it. How could I not? It stands out bigger than a honeymooner's prick!" She suddenly sat up straight. "Wait! How did you know about the hidden room? How did you find out about the experiments?"
Dean's eyes widened. "Dr Psycho's journal! It gave all the plans, methods, equipment needed...everything. Damnit!" He got to his feet and paced to the window, staring out into the now darkening sky. He felt so angry with himself for missing it.
He felt Joey move up behind him and rest a hand on his shoulder.
"I think you both had rather a lot on your minds, pardon the pun, so don't be a wanker and start getting with the guilt. It's landed your brother in enough trouble. And I knew you held the answer, so lets get going."
"Right. You watch over Sam I'll head back and destroy those journals..."
"What? I stay at home playing Nurse Nightingale whilst you swan off on your own with no back up? How do you know Ellicott won't come after ya?" Joey was virtually bristling with anger. "Fuck that pal! Besides, Sam needs you. And though I'm pretty strong for a bird I really can't see me being able to pacify your giant of a brother should he wake up, and by the way, what the hell 'ave ya been feedin' this one over the years?" Joey jerked a thumb at Sam, who lay oblivious on the bed. "'as he been sleepin' in a sodding grow bag at night or what? I mean, I know he was tall for sixteen but the bugger's shot up since I last saw 'im." She looked Dean up and down and started grinning again. "Whereas you...
"Don't start!" Dean rounded on her. "As for you..."
Sam chose that moment to begin the slow process of waking up and groaned in pain, the tremors already attacking him. "Dean..." He whispered, eyes opening a fraction though just how much he was able to take in was debatable.
"I'm here Sam." Dean nodded to Joey when she handed over a bottle of pre-prepared water. "I want you drink this for me ok? You've got a fever and we need to keep you hydrated." As usual Sam put up a fight, albeit a weak one, but this time he tried to knock the bottle out of Dean's hand in his struggle.
"N...no...D..Dean pl...please. You h..have to l...leave." Sam rolled his head away but Dean grabbed the back of his neck holding him still. "D...don't w...wanna h...hurt you. Y...you h...have to g...go."
"I'm not going anywhere without you." Dean rested his forehead against his brothers in despair. "Now come on Sammy please. Drink the water for me."
He felt the bed dip slightly and Joey sat perched on the other side.
"Sam sweetheart." She reached out and stroked his hair, just like she had six years ago after the accident. "Drink the water and it won't hurt so much. We've all got a long journey ahead of us and this will make you more comfortable."
Sam obviously had no clue who she was or why she was there but the sound of her voice seemed to calm him. Dean could have been jealous of that but he knew why his own voice agitated his brother.
Sam was scared for him.
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It was indeed a long journey. In the end it was decided they would take Dean's car. Well, decided was probably the wrong word; there was never any question about whose car they would use. Joey's rental was issued under a false name anyhow so she had no qualms about leaving it behind. She could always pick up another one at some point.
Joey sat in the back with Sam in her arms. Dean, of course, drove, occasionally glancing in the review mirror to check how Sam was doing.
It was surprising just how young Sam appeared right now. He was tall, in his early twenties, and yet at the moment he resembled an infant curled up in Joey's arms, head resting on her shoulder, his cheeks flushed with fever. Joey gently bathed his face and neck with a cool damp wash cloth, and on the occasions that he stirred or became restless, Dean could just about hear her whispering reassurances to him until he settled down again.
When Joey fell in to a fitful doze, Dean found his mind wandering. Joey hadn't discussed it and Dean hadn't asked. It really was none of his business whatever her relationship was with his father, and clearly something was going on; why would he have sent her instead? John Winchester was a man and had needs, and Dean wasn't stupid. He'd sensed the chemistry between the two of them six years ago but he hadn't known if anything happened. He and Sam had sometimes speculated as to why Joey had taken off, if it had anything to do with their father, why she hadn't stopped to say goodbye at the time, but Dean now realised with quite some surprise that it hadn't even crossed his mind to ask since she'd turned up out of the blue. Sure, he'd been pre-occupied worrying himself half to death about his brother, but now that he had time to think about it...
Time had passed quickly and Dean was soon pulling up outside the Asylum, just as Joey stretched and yawned.
"This it?" She jerked her chin towards the building.
"Yep. The very place." Dean left the driver's seat, closing his door quietly.
"And this is where they sent the fruitcakes, in the forlorn hope of curing them?" Joey had gently crawled out from under Sam and laid him back on the seat before covering him with a blanket and joining Dean outside. She sniffed loudly, scornfully, "Bloody hell! Seems more like the sort of place that would drive you kangaroo poo! Poor buggers."
Dean shook his head in amusement before heading over to the trunk and pulling out various weapons, including his brother's shotgun, which he handed over to Joey. Unsurprisingly, she handled it expertly checking both chambers for ammunition, releasing the safety and sighting down the barrels.
Seeing as Ellicott was messing with Sam's mind they figured he'd be too busy to bother with them, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Locking all the car doors should Sam wake up, though he was pretty out of it seeing as Joey had given him the last of the valium, they set off, taking the same entrance Dean and Sam had taken days ago on their first encounter with the place.
Dean easily vaulted over the fence but Joey being somewhat shorter in height appeared to be having some trouble. Finally, her upper body hanging over the top, she managed to swing her legs over and Dean caught her as she dropped to the ground.
"You were sayin'...?" Dean's sardonic comment was clearly referring to Joey's earlier statement regarding Sam and Dean's height.
She elbowed him lightly in the stomach and chuckled. "Ah bollocks to ya!" Giving him one of her quick grins she moved off, instinctively falling into battle stance. Dean vaguely wondered about that, about her past, what training she'd under taken. Very little was known about the woman, and Joey wasn't about to give up that information without a fight.
Dean directed the both of them to the clinic room where he'd discovered the journals, but as soon as they crossed the threshold they just knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
For a start, the journals weren't there.
But Sam was.
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Author's notes:
Not a lot of Sam in this chapter I know, that's why I've added in a little more angst to make up for it.
I must apologise in advance for the coming weeks. My updates are going to be rather few and far between since my mate's wedding is coming up and I'm a bridesmaid, not to mention her hen night is this weekend and we're likely to get very, very drunk – which I should point out is a famous Channel Island pass time. This should amuse you all. It's fancy dress, and my erstwhile mate has latched onto the idea of me going as Captain Jack Sparrow. Whilst I'm pretty sure I can walk the walk, I'm not so sure I can talk the talk. My husband keeps on taking the piss out of me about it, and I, in exchange, keep on threatening him with a game of Hunt The Testicle; something all woman everywhere, married or not, should know the rules to and make damn sure the men never fully understand!
The trick is to always remember where you've hidden them!
Keep those reviews coming, and remember that even if you don't hear from me for some time, I still luv ya!
Kind regards,
ST.xxx.