A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic, it is however already written. I don't own any of the supernatural characters, although I wish I did. Thank you to Bartlebead for taking the time to beta this for me, you are much appreciated.

Chapter 2

Sam sank swiftly into sleep like a traveler long gone, coming out of the dark to find his way home again. Within moments he was drifting into dreams, no longer aware of the world around him.

Sam looked around. He was in the apartment, in the bedroom. Next to him Jessica lay quietly, her mouth open slightly in peaceful slumber. The pit of Sam's stomach churned with foreboding as he looked around the darkened room. He tried to sit up but his body refused to follow his commands. The pungent and horrifyingly identifiable smell of sulfur wafted in on the stagnant air. Frantically now, Sam renewed his attempts to free himself from this strange overpowering passivity, but to no avail.

Brilliant orange flames began to creep up the walls of the bedroom, their red-hot tendrils licking at the curtains by the window. The smoke and sulfur invaded Sam's nose as he fought to drag precious air into his tortured and oxygen -starved lungs.

He couldn't breathe…God he was so hot. He was burning up, the powerful all-encompassing heat emanating from the quickly expanding flames rolling over Sam in waves.

Next to him, completely oblivious, Jessica slumbered on while white-hot tendrils of fire caressed her blond locks as they lay spread out on the pillow. Sam could smell the blackened crumbling pieces of her flesh as it continued to burn next to him.

He needed Dean. Dean would know what to do. He'd pulled him from the fire once already, he could do it again. Giving into primal panic Sam began to bellow his brother's name.

When Jessica had heated the soup, she walked down the hall to find Sam. She found him tucked under the covers deeply asleep. His chest rumbled ominously with congestion, deep, grating snores loudly filling the quiet room. Setting the soup on the edge of the dresser, Jessica crossed the short distance marveling how he'd managed to cram all 6 feet 4 inches of himself into a little ball of fevered agony among the rumpled blankets and sweat-dampened sheets. Laying a hand gently on his head, Jessica pressed a kiss to his brow. Sam didn't even flinch though he was usually such a light sleeper.

Jessica turned and left to shut the apartment down for the night. Locking doors, turning lights down, checking the oven to make sure it was truly off, it was all part of her bedtime routine. Reasonably satisfied their home was tucked in; she slipped into the bathroom to brush her teeth before bed. Sam's towel hadn't made it quite onto the hook on the back of the door and the water from it puddle on the floor.

The mess in the bathroom along with his uneaten dinner lent more enlightenment as to the state of Sam's general well being. He was usually very neat and conscientious about his surroundings. When they had moved in together she'd actually expected him to be messy, as most boys were, in Jessica's opinion. But Sam had brought two duffels and one small box in comparison to Jessica's small truck full of belongings. His dresser was organized, all of his books neatly put away. She supposed he'd gotten his clean as you go and there's a place for everything and everything in its place attitude from somewhere, but when she'd asked, he'd only laughed and said it was also McDonald's employee philosophy as well.

Another artful mislead- and- redirect by the counselor.

Jessica slipped into bed beside Sam, feeling the heat from his sleeping form. She hoped the Tylenol would kick in soon. Hopefully some medication and a full night's sleep would help Sam to feel better in the morning. Slipping an arm over his side, she curved herself around his back, and allowed the sound of Sam breathing to lull her to sleep.

Hours later Jessica awoke disoriented to the sound of Sam yelling beside her. He was thrashing around in bed and mumbling something she couldn't quite make out. As she leaned in to better hear him, his words grew louder and more desperate in tone.

"Dean! Help me, Dean…..Where are you….Dean!"

"Baby," soothed Jessica, reaching over to try and comfort him. "You're having a bad dream. Just wake up, baby." His forehead was even hotter than it had been earlier and his breathing had a sickening wet quality to it. She could see his chest shuddering and straining. Jessica tried to wake Sam again.

"Sam," she said sharper this time. "Wake up."

Suddenly pain exploded across her left eye and Jessica fell back across the bed stunned. Sam with his irrational flailing had just unintentionally smacked her across the face with his elbow. She'd never been hit before and unbidden tears rushed to prickle at her eyes. Giving Sam more space she backed off the bed. Standing now at a safe distance she tried once more to rouse him.

Outside, the wind rose to a howling fever pitch, and thunder boomed across the sky. Lighting filled the darkened room, illuminating Sam's face. His eyes were unfocused and wild, too bright with fever. But at least they were open. Panting slightly, he sat up in bed, continuing to call for Dean. Jessica felt her heart wrench into two when she saw twin tears roll down his flushed cheeks.

Dean, Jessica mused. The brother he never talked about or talked to? Was he calling for his brother?

"Sam, it's me, Jessica. Dean's not here. You're sick and you're having a bad dream! Baby, you just need to wake up."

Sam finally met her eyes although his gaze was fractured and unfocused.

"It's burning Jess, it's all burning, we're burning. We need to get out of here. Where's the salt Jess? I need to lay the salt lines. Call Dean, he'll know what to do. God! It's hot." Sam had moved during his speech and was lumbering unsteadily towards the kitchen. Jessica followed cautiously behind him.

Once at his destination Sam pulled down the salt container from the top cabinet. He turned in a slow circle in the middle of the floor, making a circle with the salt while he did it. Once his strange task was completed Sam turned and looked at Jessica.

"Stop burning, Jess, I can't save you if you won't stop burning. Your smoke, it's choking me!"

"Sam, honey you're scaring me. I'm not burning! There is no fire; you're just hot from the fever. That's why you're having trouble breathing; I can hear it from here. I promise there's no fire!"

"Don't worry Jess, Dean's coming. He'll be here, he'll fix everything."

Sam swayed like a tree in a hurricane, until he finally slid to the floor his back pressed against the refrigerator, long legs tucked up. His chin rested on his clammy chest but his eyes remained on Jessica.

"Get in the circle, Jessica, he's coming. He'll be here." Sam kept stubbornly repeating his mantra of "Dean's coming" over and over until Jessica thought she was going to go crazy listening to it.

She had cautiously stepped into the salt circle because he became less agitated when she did. Now she was waiting for Sam to fully finish passing out so she could call their friends, 911, maybe this Dean: somebody to help her and Sam. He wasn't breathing right and his fever was apparently unaffected by the Tylenol she'd given him earlier. She wasn't sure how high it was but she knew if it got too high, people could seize and have brain damage.

The problem was every time she tried to move out of the ridiculous salt circle Sam would shudder awake and force her to sit back down.

"Dean's coming," he repeated. "I'll protect you. Dean's coming. Stop burning, Jessica. Please!"

Deciding to try a different tactic, Jessica stood again. "I know Dean's on his way, but I want to get the phone so I can call him and see how much longer it is going to be. Don't you think that's a good idea, Sam, calling Dean?"

She watched Sam as he appeared to think it over. She could feel the muscles around her eye tighten with pain. She loved Sam, but this was a side of him she'd never seen before and it was scaring her. The only thing even remotely resembling violence she'd ever had to contend with had been watching it on TV or the movies.

"Okay," Sam, suddenly docile, agreed. "We'll leave the circle to get the phone but take the shaker with you because salt will repel whatever's out there." With those dark and confusing words the thunder once again grew in an agonizing crescendo. With Sam leading the way Jessica walked beside him to get his phone off the charger by the desk.

God she could only hope this Dean didn't let Sam down… But what could she expect from the kind of family member who could cut a brother out of his life because he wanted to go to college? Especially someone of Sam's intellectual caliber, how could he be expected not to further his education? Swallowing thickly she returned to the kitchen and sat obediently next to Sam inside the salt ring.

Jessica looked at the clock on the stove; it was 3 a.m. She hoped Dean was a night person because she was about to wake him up and present him with this terrifying problem. She bit her lips in uncertainty. She and Sam were expecting Dean to have a solution and she didn't even know really who he was other than Sam's deadbeat brother. Or where he was, for that matter. He was probably back in Kansas, hours and hours away from Palo Alto.

Next to her Sam slumped with exhaustion, his limbs heavy as lead. He wearily leaned his head on Jessica's slim shoulder and waited for Dean.

AN 2: Thank you for taking the time to read my next chapter, please review.