Title: When it rains, it pours.

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: A derelict mountain-top hotel, a blood-thirsty beast and a supernatural monsoon; what could possibly go wrong? Hurt!Sam hurt!Dean some comfort/awesome!Winchesters all around. Post 6x15 "The French Mistake"

Author's note: The slight delay on this chapter was due to my studying for the Final Exam for Mixology School. :D Which happened yesterday AND which I passed! I kicked it in the ass with a 98! Almost perfect score! Yours truly is now a Certified Mixologist. :P I'm gonna tend the hell out of someone's bar and hope to hell Dean wanders in some night for a beer. Lmao

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

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Sam's head swam and he wasn't sure if it was from the fever or the concussion. He staggered to the table and scooped up his phone, flipping it open. "Hello?"

"Sam. What took you so long?" Bobby asked. "You idjits coulda called me sooner. How'd it go up at the hotel?"

Sam dropped his head into his hand and tried to organize his thoughts. "Uh…not so good. There was…something up there."

"Something?" Bobby leaned over his desk, listening to the odd timber of Sam's voice. "You alright, son?" He waited and when Sam didn't answer the first niggle of worry came over him. "Sam! You still there?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Sam was having trouble. Standing up had been a bad idea, he decided. Without the ice his fever was making him feel as though he were cooking in his own skin. His head felt heavy and Bobby's voice sounded like it was coming through water; distant and muffled. "Bobby…"

"Sam? What's wrong?" Bobby's worry spiked as Sam said his name and sounded lost and confused. "Sam, you talk to me son. Sam?" He heard a groan and then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor along with a clattering sound of the phone dropping. "Sam!" He waited but heard nothing. "Dammit!" He hung up and dialed Dean.

CHAPTER 5

Dean tapped his fingers impatiently on the bar. He'd opted for the restaurant Sam had tried to find the night before. The place was anything but friendly. Everyone in there had stopped cold when he'd walked in to stare at him for a moment before going back to their meals and the waitress; a stodgy old waitress with grey hair had given him a dirty look before taking his order. He let his eyes roam over the collage of pictures behind the bar in boredom. They were mostly pictures of gap-toothed locals; quite a few were of what had to be idiot ghost hunters decked out in cameras and night vision goggles in front of the hotel. There were several of the forested mountain slopes around the hotel, some bears and he narrowed his eyes at a photo half covered in the center of the collage. Dean eased around the end of the bar for a closer look and pulled it out from the other pictures.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The waitress growled and came up the bar at Dean like a walking storm, ready to lay waste to him.

Dean raised his hands and smiled, trying for charming. "Nothing! I was just looking at all the pictures you've got up here." He gestured. "My little brother's got a thing for rare animals. Real weirdo." He smirked and shrugged as she stopped next to him and seemed to deflate slightly.

"Little brother?" She glared up at him.

Dean nodded. "That's who the chicken soup's for. Kid's got himself a hell of a cold." He resisted the urge to chuckle when she visibly softened; mistaking his little brother for a child, just as he expected her too. "He loves stuff like this." He held up the picture he'd taken down. "What is this thing?"

The waitress tipped the photo to get a look at it and rolled her eyes. "Oh that one. Probably a bear someone took a fuzzy picture of." She chuckled. "Think it was one of those idiot ghost guys who took that one. Tried to tell me it was some sorta rare creature or some crap."

Dean laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, my little brother buys into that crap. Hey. You don't suppose…" He paused and looked at her, trying to seem embarrassed. "You think I could have this? It'd put a smile on his face and he's really miserable right now."

"Well." The waitress smiled and nodded. "I don't see why not. I'll be right back."

Dean smothered a laugh and tucked the picture away. He waited and smiled again when she returned and put a bag on the bar beside him. "Thanks for this."

"Oh it's no problem." The waitress patted the bag into place and smiled up at him again. "I put a couple things in there for your brother; make the little dear feel better in no time."

Dean had to duck his head to hide the amused grin. "He'll love it, I'm sure. Thanks, doll." He smiled at the pleased blush that climbed up her face and grabbed the bag, heading for the door as his phone rang. "No woman can stay mad at me." Dean said smugly as he stepped outside and fished his phone from his pocket. "Hello?"

"Dean! Get your ass back to your brother now!" Bobby's strained voice shouted out from the phone.

"What? Why?" Dean stopped in his tracks with fear rearing its head. "I just left him Bobby. He's fine. I mean, he's banged up some and running a damn fever but…"

"He passed out or something while I was talkin' to him." Bobby cut him off. "Get back there now!"

"Shit!" Dean ran to the car and threw himself behind the wheel. He squealed out of the parking lot and onto the street while dialing Sam's number with one hand. It rang and went to voice mail with no answer. "What the hell'd you do, Sammy?" He fought the wheel as the car tried to hydroplane and tried Sam's cell again with the same result. "I told you to stay in bed you idiot." He was forced to draft around the corner into town as the back wheels of the Impala lost their traction and kept the car on the road through will alone; thankful there wasn't a cop around to nail him for reckless driving. Dean sped through town to the motel and screeched to a stop outside their room. Jumping from the car at a run, he slapped into the door and threw it open.

"Sam?" Dean absently kicked it shut behind him and looked for his brother. His bed was empty and Dean bent to pick up his open cell phone from the floor. He heard the shower running and dashed into the bathroom. "Sam!"

The shower was on and the curtain open, spraying cold water in a mist through the bathroom. Sam lay curled up in the bottom of the tub under the spray still in his clothes. Dean reached in and shut off the water. He took Sam's shoulders and rolled him to him, wrapping an arm around his sodden chest.

"Sammy?" Dean took a relieved breath when Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"Dean." Sam's voice was hoarse and tired. He'd passed out talking to Bobby and woken in a daze but aware enough to know he was far too hot for his own good. It had taken every ounce of energy he had to crawl into the bathroom and get in the tub. Turning the shower on had almost seemed like too much effort but he'd managed and then passed out again under the blissfully cold spray. "Fever spiked."

"No kidding." Dean shook his head. "You know you're not supposed to shower in your clothes, genius."

Sam smirked. "Ge'me outta here. S'cold."

"Suppose that's a good sign." Dean pulled him up slowly and held him steady while Sam eased his legs out of the tub and then sat him on the edge. "Makin' a habit of the drowned rat look."

"Bite me." Sam dropped his head into his hands. "You grab my bag?"

Dean nodded and went out into the room. He pulled Sam's bag up on the bed and dug through it, pulling out dry clothes and went back. He snorted a laugh. Sam had gotten his shirt off but his wet jeans were proving to be a problem with him working to support himself on the counter with one hand and peel the wet denim down with the other.

"Shut up." Sam said grumpily. "I can do this."

Dean nodded, wisely saying nothing and left the dry clothes on the sink and pulled the door shut behind him as he left the bathroom. He took his phone out and dialed Bobby as he went quickly back outside to rescue the bag of food from the Impala's front seat; completely forgotten in his concern for his brother. "Hey Bobby." Dean greeted as the older hunter's gruff voice greeted. He grabbed the food and ducked back into the room before the rain drenched him again.

"Is Sam ok? What the hell took you so long?" Bobby demanded as soon as he heard Dean's voice. He'd been pacing a hole in the floor waiting for Dean to call and couldn't stop his mind from going to every worst possible scenario; far too many of which they had already experienced in the last several years many times over. He was braced now for the worst.

Dean snorted a laugh. "Don't have an aneurism. He's ok. His fever spiked and he feinted."

"Passed out!" Sam called from the bathroom in a disgruntled tone of voice.

Dean laughed. "He feinted. He's fine. Took a cold shower in his clothes."

"That's it? He's got a damn cold? What the hell are you boys doing up there?" Bobby shouted, rolled his eyes and allowed himself to relax now he knew Sam wasn't dying alone on a motel room floor. He took a deep breath and let the fear settle.

"Trying to find out what the hell dumped us in the damn river. Hang on." Dean lowered his phone and fished the picture from the diner out of his jacket. He snapped a quick picture and sent it on. "You've got mail."

"Boy." Bobby growled, irritated and looked at his phone as it dinged with the message received. He frowned and squinted. "What the hell is that?"

"No idea but." Dean set the picture on the little table and sat. "I'm thinking that's our bad guy."

"Never seen nothin' like it." Bobby sighed. "How's Rufus?"

"Last time I checked? The same." Dean shrugged. "Don't suppose we could just dump holy water on the bite and fix him?"

Now Bobby snorted. "Not likely. I'll start looking for this thing. The picture will help. Would you two try and stay out of trouble for five damn minutes?" Bobby growled. "I aint got much hair left to go gray that aint already thanks to you two idjits."

Dean chuckled. "Yes, sir." He flipped the phone closed as Sam emerged unsteadily from the bathroom. "Got soup over here." Dean gestured and worked not to laugh as Sam weaved across to the table and dropped into the other chair. "Lemme see em." He leaned over and knocked Sam's chin up with a knuckle and ignored the dirty look his brother gave him, focusing on his eyes.

"I'm fine." Sam brushed his hand away, irritated.

Dean smirked but nodded. Sam's pupils were even, something they hadn't been when he got him back to the room. "You'll live. Here." He pushed the photograph over to him. "Have a look."

Sam picked up the picture while Dean dug in the bag and studied it. It was a blurry photo of a humanoid looking creature; two arms, two legs, one head. The dark figure meshed with the vague image Sam had in his head from the hotel basement and the photographer had even caught the red glow of one its eyes. He frowned at the picture and brought it closer to his face. "Huh."

"What?" Dean set a Styrofoam soup container in front of Sam along with a plastic spoon. "You see something?"

"I swear…I've seen something like this before." Sam sat back and closed his eyes. "In a book I think. One of Bobby's. Damn." He rubbed a hand over his forehead trying to relieve the pounding headache there. "I can't remember."

"Considering your eggs got scrambled tonight I'm not surprised." Dean plucked the picture out of his hand. "Eat. Bobby's sure to find it then. He's already looking."

Sam pulled the soup over and pried off the lid, inhaling the scent and was happy his stomach didn't turn. "I think this is gonna be bad." He fought his shaking hand to spoon up the soup. "I can't remember where I saw it but I remember thinking I hope we never run into it."

"Oh that makes me feel better." Dean groaned and pulled his burger out of the bag. He set it aside and leaned over the bag and started to chuckle.

"What?" Sam asked. Dean only started to laugh harder. "What the hell is so funny?"

Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes and reached into the bag. "Waitress put a couple extras in for my….uh…sick little brother." He pulled out a cup of pudding and set it on the table, then a wrapped cookie with an impromptu smiley face in icing and then he shook his head, giving in to the laugh completely as he handed the bag to Sam.

Sam took it as if it would explode and looked inside. He glared back up at Dean. "Are you kidding me?" He upended the bag on the table and several crayons fell out along with a couple pages taken from a Sleeping Beauty coloring book. "You're such a jerk."

Dean wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and shrugged. "It's almost like she knows you." He easily ducked the dripping noodle Sam threw at him with a laugh. "Eat your soup already. Wanna have time to color before night night."

"You better sleep light for a while." Sam scowled at him and then smiled in a way that made Dean uneasy. "Or I will shave you bald in your sleep."

"Yeah, right." Dean rolled his eyes and tried not to cringe at the steady look of promise on his little brother's face. "You wouldn't."

Sam shrugged, grinning and started on his soup. "I so would." He rested his elbow on the edge of the table and propped his aching head up in his hand while he ate and smirked up at Dean.

Dean studied his face. "Only reason I don't start a prank war right now is you're practically walking wounded already." He sat back smugly. "We get done with this job though and I just might."

Sam snorted and concentrated on eating. He still felt like crap though his fever at least seemed to be under control finally. His teasing was little more than a ploy to distract Dean from looking too closely at him. He'd worried his brother enough.

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Dean groaned himself awake with the pounding in his head. He brought a hand up to rub across his face and then scowled. The pounding wasn't in his head. He jerked the knife out from under his pillow as someone banged on the door to their room again.

"Dean?" Sam pushed himself up sleepily. "You order room service?"

"Stay there." Dean ordered and went to the door. "Who is it?"

"Open up, dumb ass." Bobby's gruff voice sounded.

"What the hell?" Dean looked over to see Sam shrug. He unlocked the door and swung it open. "Bobby? What the hell are you doing here?"

Bobby pushed past him into the room and dropped a heavy duffel bag on Dean's bed. "Mornin' Sam. How you feelin?"

"Better." Sam smiled and sat up. "Bobby?"

"You boys need backup on this one." Bobby said decisively. "You gonna shut that door or you need some more air, princess?" He said to Dean with a smirk.

Dean shook his head and closed the door, flipping on the lights. "How do you even know where we are?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Tracked the GPS on your phone, idjit." He said as if it should have been obvious. "Figured I'd avoid the part where you try and tell me you don't need help."

"You found it." Sam said and got to his feet. "The creature. You know what it is."

Bobby nodded; his face gone serious. "Oh yeah. I found it alright."

"Why do I get the feeling this job just went from bad to worse?" Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Can we have coffee first? I need coffee."

Sam chuckled. "I'll get it brewing." He went over to and took the pot from the coffee maker, heading into the bathroom to fill it.

Bobby opened his bag and pulled out a few books and a stack of papers. "So this thing, it's not a creature…exactly."

Dean followed him and dropped into a chair at the table. "Then what exactly is it?"

"Technically, it's a god." Bobby watched Dean's brows rise and nodded. "One of the old gods. I'm talkin' real old."

"Terrific." Sam came back and filled the coffee maker. "I thought Lucifer pretty much killed them all off last year."

"Not this one. It's Sumerian." Bobby flipped open one of the books and handed it to Sam. "Ninurta."

"Great. Evil god chick." Dean pulled the pile of Bobby's research toward him. "What we're the chances we'd run into more old gods like Kali and the elephant man. What his name?"

"Guy. Ninurta is male." Sam said absently as he read the passage Bobby had marked and studied the picture. "And the elephant man's name was Ganesh. He was Hindu, dude."

"Whatever. No wonder this Ninurta's so bitchy. Getting stuck with a girl's name." Dean snorted at Sam's disgusted look.

Sam looked up with wide eyes. "I remember this now." He lowered the book and stared at Bobby. "Crap."

"Yeah." Bobby nodded in understanding.

"One of you book-geeks wanna fill me in here?" Dean said, his voice getting testy with the early hour and the feeling of being left out of the loop.

"We can save Rufus' dumb ass." Bobby waved a hand at Sam and the coffee maker, silently asking before sitting across from Dean. "We gotta get hold of some of Ninurta's blood, mix it with Holy water and a few other things I brought along and cleanse the bite wound with it. Catch is…Ninurta has to be alive when we take the blood or it won't work."

"Oh, is that all." Dean groaned.

"He has to stay alive until we cure him or the blood will be inert." Sam handed Bobby a cup of coffee and then gave one to Dean before pouring one for himself and went to sit on the end of the bed with the book. "We can't gank him until Rufus is clean."

"Well shit." Dean took a first, grateful sip of the coffee and willed it to work faster to wake him up. "Maybe we can just ask him to hand over a pint."

Bobby turned to give Sam a searching look and nodded, happy with what he saw. The night's sleep seemed to have taken care of the worst of whatever had happened yesterday. "I'm thinkin' we nab Rufus' sorry ass from the hospital and bring him here to cure him. Don't think all those doctors would appreciate us dosing their patient. Not to mention, I dunno what the cure's gonna do to him."

Sam nodded. "That should work. He's hooked up to a lot of machines but they were monitoring, not life support. Not yet anyway." He said softly.

"So we have to go back up there today." Dean groaned. "Man, I just dried out finally."

Sam chuckled. "I don't think we're going to be dry again until Ninurta is dead." He set the book aside and focused on his coffee. "Ninurta is an underworld demon responsible for floods, sinking ships, torrential rains and calling up the South Wind." He smirked when Dean cussed. "He actually pre-dates the Bible by over two thousand years."

"Let's not tell Cas. He might feel inadequate." Dean smirked and then scowled, still unhappy with the way their guardian Angel had treated them. They could have died or been stuck forever in Bizarro world and all because Castiel had a crazy plan and couldn't be bothered to ask them first. He shook his head. It pissed him off.

"Ninurta feeds off a human's life force." Bobby flipped open a book in front of Dean and gestured. "Says here he can feed from a distance once he's tasted the blood. Victims can live for days gettin' weaker and weaker until their bodies just stop."

"Like Rufus." Sam said sadly.

Bobby quickly drew up a plan with them, eager to get up the mountain and find the old God, drain some of its blood and get Rufus moving again so he could kill him. He was angry with him for going after this thing without backup, without Bobby and more; for not giving him a heads up. He could have warned his boys instead of letting them go in blind. He looked over at Sam, cradling his head in his hands again and sighed.

"Son, you up for this?" Bobby asked Sam gently and smiled when Sam jerked his head up with a quick nod.

"I'm good, Bobby." Sam assured him. "Head hurts and I feel like crap but I'm good."

Dean snorted. "He's one step up from walking wounded."

"You try and leave me behind I'll just follow you up there." Sam glared over at his brother. "So don't even think about it. No way I'm letting you go up after a damn god on your own."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Bobby said indignantly.

"Sorry, Bobby." Sam smiled and raised his hands in placation. "You know what I mean."

"Uh huh." Bobby gave him another glare for good measure and stood. "Well come on then. Sooner we get this done, the sooner we can send that thing back to the underworld."

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Daylight, such as it was through the rain heavy clouds, didn't help make the forest surrounding the hotel any less creepy. Dean played with the medicine bag Bobby had strung around his and Sam's necks. It was filled with a combination of herbs that, in theory, would keep Ninurta from getting close enough to bite them. That was the theory anyway but the source material was three thousand years old as Sam had pointed out. He wiped rain from his face and glanced back at the Impala; parked just inside the tree line and, he hoped, out of harm's way should the hotel's ghosts decide to start lobbing pieces of architecture around again.

Dean gave the hotel a long look as they neared. "I think I hate this place now."

Sam chuckled and hefted his shotgun. "I think it's beautiful."

"Of course you do." Dean rolled his eyes.

"You two knuckle-heads wanna get your heads in the game here?" Bobby said, amused in spite of himself. "You ever find out how many ghosts are roaming around in there?"

Sam shook his head. "No way to know for sure." He pulled his EMF meter out of his pocket as they stepped over the ruin of the entrance. "Hopefully most of them aren't very active except of course for the one that dropped a pillar on Dean."

"Yeah, let's not do that again." Dean took out his own EMF. "Basement entrance we used is back that way." He gestured.

Bobby nodded and started across the entrance hall. He stopped as a wind blew up. "Balls."

"Must still be riled up from us being here yesterday." Sam observed as the meters in his and Dean's hands began to whine; the needles burying themselves in the red quickly.

"We do not have time for this crap." Bobby growled as a loud groan echoed through the empty building and plaster began to sift down from the high ceiling above.

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To Be Continued…