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: Indulging a little whump on the other side of the fence in this chapter. Heh heh heh
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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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.
CHAPTER 6
"What did you do to piss this one off last time?" Sam asked, half amused as Dean growled up at the ceiling. "Whoever it is really doesn't like you."
"We don't know it's gunning for me specifically." Dean argued and then had to duck as a light fixture ripped itself from the wall at the far end of the hall and whipped past his head. "Ok. Never mind. How the hell should I know?"
"Maybe this ghost can sense bullshit." Bobby muttered and grinned as Sam burst into laughter.
"What was that?" Dean glared but Bobby only shook his head with a smile.
"Nothing." Bobby took his arm and yanked him closer as the pillar still crumbled on the floor shimmied in its spot.
"We need to get somewhere with less ammunition." Sam was eyeing the rows of spindles lining the staircases; they were beginning to twist and tremble. "Now." He went to them and gave both men a push toward the hall leading to the basement.
"Ok. Ok." Dean let Sam herd him and Bobby out of the entry and into the narrower hall. He grunted when Sam suddenly threw himself into his back and tumbled all three of them to the floor. A moment later there was an odd series of knocks behind them. Dean rolled, pushing Sam off him and his eyes widened in surprise. A handful of spindles from the staircase were embedded in the wall at the mouth of the hall like small spears. "Shit! Sammy?"
"Didn't get me." Sam told him quickly and smiled. He picked himself up off the floor and gave a hand to Bobby. "Sorry."
Bobby stared at the projectiles. "That would'a hurt." He brushed himself off and grabbed his shotgun back up from the floor along with Dean's and handed it to him.
"Can we go before it reloads?" Dean said flippantly. He started down the hall again toward the basement stairs. Murky daylight filtered through the open doors along each side from the empty windows and the sound of falling rain was an ever-present background noise. He paused as the EMF in Sam's hand screamed into the quiet.
"Well that can't be good." Bobby grumbled.
A stiff wind blew into the hall. It was strong enough to stagger all three men for a moment and it was frigid with other-worldly energy. "Now what?" Sam raised his shotgun, waiting for something…anything to appear and give him a target. The wind stopped as suddenly as it started. He traded tense looks with Dean and Bobby. He took a step toward his brother and the wind came back. It was stronger, verging on cyclonic as it erupted through the hall. He had no time to brace himself as it slammed into him and threw him backward.
"Crap!" Dean shouted as he was picked up and tossed like a rag doll through the nearest door by the gust and heard Bobby's equally surprised and angry yell as he too was made airborne.
Bobby cartwheeled through the air back into the entry hall and slapped into the floor, slid across the marble and came to rest beside Sam. He gasped in a few breaths and rolled over. "Son, you ok?"
Sam groaned and nodded. "Yeah. Just…ready to stop having my head cracked. Ow." He looked at Bobby and then around the hall and jerked up. "Dean!"
Dean sucked in a breath to prepare himself for an impact with the wall that didn't come. Instead, he was thrown through the glassless window. The vines crawling across the opening slowed his flight somewhat. He had a moment to be thankful they were on the first floor and then he tore through the vines and thumped into the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. He could feel a few scratches on his face and neck from his trip through the greenery.
"Son of a bitch." Dean gasped and rolled to his knees slowly. He knelt and looked back at the hotel. "That friggin hurt you Casper son of a bitch!" He shouted angrily as he rubbed at his left shoulder and tried to soothe the ache from the impact away. The rain sluiced down his face. "Great. Sore and wet. Again."
He looked around as he heard his brother shout his name. "Sam!" He called back and got achingly to his feet. He saw his shotgun a few feet away and went to retrieve it. He bent to pick it up and froze as a growl sounded from far to near for his liking. Dean looked up slowly and jerked in surprise; Ninurta stood not thirty feet away by the side of the hotel, half hidden in shadows and vines. "Oh…crap." He raised a hand to his chest, instinctively feeling for Bobby's charm bag. It wasn't there. "What the?" He looked down and then back at the window and threw his arms out. "Great!" The small charm bag swung from one of the vines in the window. "Not good. Very not good." He backed a step away and the creature came one nearer. He finally got a good look at the 'god'. His skin was covered in fine, dark hair. Red eyes pierced out at him from below heavy brows in a leonine face and easily conveyed the danger Dean was in. The creature raised hands with abnormal long fingers, tipped with curved claws and pointed at him as it opened its mouth and bared a row of sharp fangs.
Bobby scrambled to his feet and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him up at the same time. "He'll be alright. Come on."
Sam nodded and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Dean!" He shouted again as he and Bobby headed for the hallway. The sound of a shotgun blast echoed in from outside and he staggered to a stop. "How is he outside?" Sam spun and ran for the door. He ignored the wind that still blew and ducked a table leg as it arrowed for his head. He skidded through the door with Bobby on his heels and outside. "Dean!"
Bobby came behind him and gasped. Ninurta was outside as well and bearing down on Dean. As he watched, Dean fired again but the creature barely slowed. Dean turned to run too slow and the Sumerian demon crashed into him and bore him to the ground.
"No!" Sam yelled. He dropped his shotgun and drew the knife from the small of his back. He sprinted the distance between them.
Dean grunted with the force of the impact and again as the weight of the creature crushed him down into the water-logged grass. "Get off me!" He tried to roll and heard his brother yelling his name. Bobby's voice joined his. There was the sound of another shotgun firing and then white hot pain exploded in his shoulder. He heard a scream and realized it was his own voice. Dean choked off the sound and could feel nothing beyond the creature's teeth in him and the sensation of his life being sucked away through the wound. He felt Ninurta jerk above him and then the pain finally overwhelmed him into darkness.
Sam ran full out, knowing surprise was his only advantage. He heard Bobby fire at the thing and as before, it ignored the rock salt. He crashed into the creature's flank and wasted no time sinking his knife in beneath its shoulder. He purposefully avoided the heart, or where he thought it might be, and went instead for blood loss. Ninurta rose up from Dean suddenly with an enraged scream. Sam fought to hold on to the blood slicked hilt of the blade.
"Bobby!" Sam shouted and then saw the older Hunter dart in beside him. Sam struggled to hold the old god in place; muscles straining with the effort as it screamed and tried to reach the irritant on its back holding it in place. "Hurry up!"
Bobby ducked a swing of one clawed hand and yanked a small jar from his jacket, putting it beneath the open wound Sam had created. Blood sluiced from around the blade and into the jar. He glanced at Sam's reddened face and knew he only had seconds. He danced away from another swipe and backed away quickly; his prize in hand.
"I've got it! Sam!" Bobby set the jar carefully on the ground. "Let him go!"
Sam heard and tried to pull the knife free. The blade was stuck fast and he lost his grip on the beast's shoulder. Ninurta spun and backhanded Sam, sending him flying before it raced off the plateau and into the forest.
"Sam!" Bobby knelt by him worriedly.
"I'm ok." Sam said, breathless. "Dean. Check Dean."
Bobby patted his shoulder and jogged back to Dean, dropping to his knees beside him. The back of his right shoulder was coated in blood and the jacket and shirts beneath in tatters where Ninurta's teeth had pierced through. "Come on, son." Bobby put a shaking hand to his neck and sighed when he found the pulse there. "He's alive." He called and startled when Sam bumped him as he went around.
"Dean?" Sam dropped beside his brother and gently rolled him over.
"He'll be alright, Sam." Bobby assured him. "It bit him but we've got the blood. We can fix this."
Sam nodded silently. "Dean." Sam gave him a small shake. When he received no response he rubbed his knuckles firmly along Dean's sternum. That elicited a groan and after a moment, Dean's eyes slitted open. "Hey." Sam smiled in relief.
"M…m'a chewtoy?" Dean asked, slurring and groaned when Sam nodded.
"Yeah, dude." Sam squeezed his good shoulder. "How do you feel?"
Dean looked up between them and closed his eyes, trying to assess that. His shoulder burned with pain and he could feel the wet sensation that meant blood and lots of it. More disconcerting than that was that he could still feel some indefinable part of himself leaking slowly away. Ninurta was draining his life force as he had his other victims. "Tell me…got the blood?"
Bobby nodded. "We got it. Come on, Sam." He nudged Sam's arm. "Let's get him back."
Sam slid an arm behind Dean's back. "Let's go slow. This is gonna hurt."
Dean nodded and cursed the fact that he seemed unable to make himself move. His entire body had been taken over by lethargy and felt almost tingly, as though his limbs were falling asleep. He couldn't even muster the energy to wipe the rain from his eyes. Dean groaned in pain as Sam and Bobby lifted him up so he was sitting. "Shit." He ground out between clenched teeth.
"Sorry." Sam said softly. He was working to hide the panic gripping him. All the other survivors had slipped into comas so it was only a matter of time before his brother became insensible. It rocked him on a fundamental level to see Dean this helpless and couldn't help but remember how he had looked much the same; pale, blood spattered and boneless in his grasp the day the Hellhounds had taken him. He shook himself free of the memory and slid behind Dean to take his shoulders while Bobby moved down to his feet.
"We'll put him in the backseat." Sam lifted when Bobby did. He shifted his grip so his brother's lolling head rested on his chest instead of between his shoulders.
"S…sucks." Dean managed in a breathy voice as he was manhandled back to the car. He was pissed; not just at Ninurta for biting him but at himself for being too damn slow to get out of the way. Sam and Bobby were distracted carrying him, their guns forgotten. If the creature came back it would get them all and be his fault.
"Easy, Dean." Sam soothed when his brother's breathing sped up, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. "Easy. Almost there." He fumbled to keep hold of Dean as they neared the car and reach the door handle at the same time. Finally, he got it open and then stared at the seat. "Uh…"
"Get in and slide across with him." Bobby suggested. "You pull, I'll push. He don't weigh that much." He saw Dean's eyes meet his in wounded pride and Bobby grinned to try and lighten the mood. "Well Sam IS bigger."
"B…bite me…Bobby." Dean growled.
Sam chuckled and let Dean's ire give him some small measure of relief. He sat on the edge of the seat and slowly pushed back with his legs, bringing Dean with him until his back was pressed against the opposite door and Dean sitting up against his chest. He reached down and dug through his pocket until he came up with the Impala's keys.
"You drive." Sam told Bobby and handed the keys out to him as Bobby folded Dean's legs onto the seat. "He'll breathe better if he's sitting up, I think."
Bobby nodded and took them. "Keep him conscious if you can." He closed the door gently and then ran back to the plateau in front of the hotel. The can with Ninurta's blood was where he'd left it. Bobby scooped it up and took a last look around for the beast before dashed back to the car.
"Dean?" Sam crossed an arm over his brothers' chest to keep him from sliding down and put his hand on his forehead, holding his head up against his shoulder. "How you doing?" He could feel blood seeping from the wound on the back of Dean's shoulder into his shirts. It was warm and made him tingle with fear for him.
Dean was struggling to stay awake. The numb feeling was pulling at him more and more until even his vision was blurred. "M'here." He managed. Sam's voice was dripping with worry and he couldn't not answer it. It was ingrained in him to take care of Sam, even if he was the one leaking bodily fluids all over the car for a change.
Bobby slid in behind the wheel and spared a look in the rearview mirror as the engine rumbled to life. Dean's face was translucent except for the spots of his own blood riding on the so pale skin. "He's gonna be fine, son." He said, trying to reassure the almost broken look on Sam's face and then he turned his attention to the road.
"Don't go too fast, Bobby." Sam warned. "This thing, it likes to play with the weather. Already forced me off the road once."
"Got it. You just keep our boy awake back there." Bobby kept his speed down though every nerve in his body told him to go as fast as possible. Ten minutes later he was glad he'd listened to Sam when the wind and rain picked up, whipping through the trees and across the road. He kept an iron grip on the wheel and refused to let the car be torn from the road.
Sam talked softly to his brother as they drove, trying to keep his attention. Every so often, Dean would mutter back at him and once even told him to shut up, making him smile. He looked up to see where they were and then tightened his grip on Dean when he felt all the remaining tension suddenly slide out of him. "Dean? Dean!" Sam gave him a shake and got nothing in response. "Dammit. Bobby I think he's going under." Sam palmed the side of Dean's face to turn his head and see his face. "Dean? Come on. Wake up. Dean!"
"It's ok, Sam. We knew this was going to happen." Bobby heard the barely restrained panic in his voice. "Don't lose it on me now."
Sam took a deep breath and adjusted his hold on Dean. "Ok. I know."
The drive back to town and the motel seemed to take forever from Sam's point of view. Dean was dead weight against him and while the blood from his wound had slowed, he was now putting out enough body heat to keep them both warm.
Bobby parked in front of their room and turned to look in the backseat. "I'm gonna get the door open and then we'll get him in."
Sam nodded and waited as Bobby hastily got out and ran through the rain to the room. "Really wish you'd wake up now, Dean." He said softly to the top of his brothers' head. "Could use a little reassurance here."
Bobby came back to the car and carefully opened the door behind Sam. "Figure it'll be easier getting him out this way. Swing your legs out."
Sam carefully pulled his legs around, twisting and pushing and trusted Bobby to not let him land on the pavement with his cargo. He felt Bobby's hands supporting his back at the awkward angle as he managed to get his legs out and levered himself up with Dean's torso. Bobby waited until he'd pulled Dean far enough out and then grabbed his legs. "Got him." He wasn't any happier than Sam with the way Dean looked, nor the feeling of carrying around his boneless body. There were too many heart-breaking memories than involved scenes like this for his peace of mind.
Together they carried Dean inside and Sam insisted they put him on the bed furthest from the door. He wanted to be sure he was between Dean and whatever might come at them while he was like this. Settling Dean took no time at all, pliant as he was. "First aid kit, Bobby." Sam gently tugged the sleeves of Dean's ruined jacket off his arms and then pulled him up until he was leaning against him with his head resting in the crook of his shoulder.
"Good. Keep him like that." Bobby moved around and set the kit on the nightstand. He took out the blunt-nosed scissors and carefully cut apart what was left of the right shoulder of both shirts. "It's not actually that bad." He peeled the blood stiffening fabric away and nodded. "Not meant to kill him; just mark him." He took up the bottle of peroxide and dumped it liberally over the bite wounds. He leaned around to see Dean's face as Sam did, both expectant and both sighed when it elicited little more than a soft moan. "Damn. Didn't think it'd take him under this fast."
"How long will it take to make the antidote?" Sam asked while Bobby finished cleaning the wound and taped a loose bandage over it.
"Couple hours." Bobby patted the bandage in place and stood, helping Sam lay Dean back down on the bed. "I'm gonna go spring Rufus while you put it together."
Sam nodded his understanding; while Dean still had days ahead of him, Rufus had far less. He needed the antidote now. Sam didn't offer to come help Bobby liberate the Hunter. He was unwilling to leave Dean alone in his present state, no matter the circumstance and Bobby didn't ask. He knew better.
"He comes around at all while I'm gone, you tell him we'll fix him up in no time." Bobby dropped a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a squeeze before going to the table and the abandoned pile of research he'd left there. "I've got detailed notes on how to do it and everything you need in my bag." He found the papers he was looking for and set them aside then took his bag and headed for the bathroom. "Suit up in case I gotta 'Fed' my way in there."
Sam smirked. "Good idea. They're watching him pretty close." Once the door was closed Sam took up Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Just hold on a little longer, Dean. I'm gonna fix this." He rubbed his other hand across his chest where Ninurta had struck him and gave his insensible brother a lopsided grin. "You should be kicking my ass for not letting Bobby look at this yet, you know. You're slipping, dude. Think I've got some bruised ribs here." Sam waited, hoping that wherever Dean was he would hear and be driven to wake up enough to at least glare at him. He didn't. Sam sighed sadly, set his hand back down and went to the table to read over Bobby's notes with determination.
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Bobby didn't bother with the front desk. He followed Sam and Dean's footsteps and snuck into the closed wing, grinning at the complete lack of security there even during the day. He expected to have to dodge construction workers but found none and then rolled his eyes at himself. It was a Saturday. Unlike him they were all home tucked up warm with a damn whiskey.
He peeked out into the hall, satisfied he was alone in the wing and used the elevator to ride up to the next floor. He did his best to temporarily put Dean out of his mind; he couldn't afford to be distracted while trying to liberate Rufus from the hospital without being caught. He was sure the local authorities wouldn't appreciate having their only living victim of an unknown attacker go missing.
Bobby stepped out of the disused wing and strode down the hall as though he belonged there. Rather than go straight for Rufus, he instead kept his eyes open on each door as he went and smiled when he found what he wanted; a door marked 'staff'. Bobby slipped inside and a few minutes later emerged in a white lab coat, a stethoscope perched around his neck and a badge one of the Doctors had absently left behind. He flipped it backwards so the picture wasn't visible and resumed his confident stride, nodding to nurses as he passed with a smile.
"Show you boys how it's done." Bobby muttered with a smirk as he found Rufus' door and went inside. His friend was alone thankfully and Bobby went to stand beside the bed, grim-faced. "You dumb son of a bitch." He said softly as he looked down at Rufus' wan face. He'd lost pounds in the last two days and his dark skin felt like paper as Bobby took his arm to remove the IV line there. With luck, in an hour or so, Rufus would no longer need the intra-venous help and be able to feed himself. If not, well, an IV wasn't going to save his life.
"Alright, you old coot. Hope you aint been eatin' junk food since the last time I had to do this." Bobby went to the corner of the room and the wheelchair conveniently left there, pulling it over to the bed. He tugged the sheet off his friend and bent over him. He muscled Rufus' up so he was sitting and then carefully tipped the man over his shoulder. "Holy…crap." Bobby grunted under the weight and turned slowly until he could angle him down into the wheelchair.
Rufus was boneless and quickly began to slide out of the seat. "Dammit." Bobby stopped him with a hand on his chest and looked around the room. "Ok." He reached back to the bed and yanked the sheet the rest of the way off. He twisted it and looped it around Rufus' chest, tying it off to hold him in place and stood with a stretch to survey his handiwork. He rubbed a hand into his aching back. "The things I do for you."
He stripped the other sheet off the bed and draped it over Rufus up to his shoulders to hide the binding holding him up. "Now, let's smile and see if we can't wheel your happy ass outta here before someone notices. Bobby pushed him to the door and checked the hall before wheeling him out. He was incredibly disturbed by a silent, unmoving Rufus. He wasn't meant to be this way. He should have been cussing, hurling insults and railing at being wheeled around like an invalid. "Get you back to your cheerful self in no time." Bobby said softly to him and nodded easily at a passing nurse. He picked up the pace once she was past and headed for the disused wing again and hoped Sam would have the antidote ready when they arrived.
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To Be Continued…