Note: Thanks for being patient with me, everyone! (Not that you really had much of a choice in the matter.) Enjoy!
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"Not good, not good," Dean muttered under his breath as he finally pulled the car up next to the forest where he knew his brother was. He had a pit in his stomach and experience told him that meant something bad had happened to Sam.
"What now?" Jo asked. "We made it!"
"My brother-sense is tingling," he said by way of explanation. "There's something really wrong. We have to hurry."
"I thought we were hurrying."
Dean's lip curled in anger, and he spared a moment he didn't have to look at her. "Don't come," he growled. "You haven't been helping this whole time. The most you can do is remind me how long I have to save my brother's life, and I don't need that right now, okay? Just stay here and be ready to go when I get him back."
"What if you need my help?" she called desperately as he walked away.
"Honey, we haven't needed your help the first twenty years of doing this. We don't need it now." And with that, he was gone at a dead run. "Sam!" he called repeatedly, hoping his brother would hear him but knowing in his heart that he would receive no answer for his efforts.
He finally saw Sam's phone, and stopped dead when he realised he couldn't find the younger Winchester anywhere near the phone. He picked up the offending piece of technology, rolling it over in his hands. Licking his lips, he turned toward the quiet sound of running water, trying to decide what Sam would have done in this situation. He was probably trying to keep himself awake, so he would have wanted cold water. Nothing else made sense. Unfortunately, he slipped down the side of the bank as Sam had, and soon plummeted into the icy water. It jolted him so much that he almost didn't notice the limp form that was nearly buried in the water.
Instinctively, he knew it was Sam, even though he couldn't see his brother's face. Then he realised that Sam's face was half embedded deeply in the mud of the bank. It had saved him from drowning, but perhaps still not from suffocating. Swimming as quickly as he could, he reached Sam's side and dragged them both painstakingly out. Dean checked his brother over to see his condition. Sam's chest still oozed blood through the cloth that covered it and it looked like he had a fever. But worst of all, he wasn't breathing.
"Come on, Sammy," Dean said, lightly hitting his brother on the chest in an attempt to get him to breathe on his own. "Come on."
When the vocal plea didn't work, Dean immediately started CPR. Luckily, it only took two breaths for Sam's lungs to suck in air on their own. And then the coughing started.
As if it wasn't bad enough that Sam had inhaled quite a bit of water, it was likely that he had also unwittingly inhaled mud and grass from the bank he was lying in. Dean turned his brother on his side and tried to hold him still while his body rid itself of water and grime. After what seemed like an eternity, Sam took a faltering breath without coughing or sputtering. He wasn't conscious yet, but at least he was breathing now.
"Sammy," Dean said, gently shaking his brother's shoulders. "Sammy, wake up."
Sam merely groaned in response. But that was the best sound Dean had heard in a long time. "Come on, Sammy," he coaxed. "Open your eyes for me."
"Dean," Sam whispered, eyes still closed.
"Yeah, bro, it's me. Come on, look at me."
Sam seemed to struggle with this for a few moments, eyes fluttering but never coming all the way open. "Can't," he finally murmured.
"Yes you can," Dean persisted. "Let me have a look."
"Get it out of me," Sam suddenly hissed, arching his back in pain and writhing as the agony spread through every inch of his body.
"Whoa, whoa, Sam," Dean said, eyes widening, still trying to hold his brother down. "It's still there?"
"Can't fight it . . . much longer," was all the younger Winchester grumbled as he went limp again.
"I think you have to be conscious for me to exorcise you," Dean said, knowing no one could hear him. "But I'll see what I can do while you're out."
He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket, where he had written the latin exorcism ritual down carefully. And he began to read. Sam's latin was better than his, but that didn't matter right now. He barely recognised the words that flowed from his tongue as he read. It wasn't terribly important that he be paying attention to himself; the most important thing was that the words were said correctly, but he didn't need full concentration to do a simple exorcism.
For the second time that day, luck was with the Winchesters and Sam apparently didn't have to be conscious to have the demon leave his body. And leave it did, though it seemed to be attempting to shred Sam's body as it went. When the black smoke had cleared, Dean leaned over his brother and tried to wake him.
"Sammy," he said gently, "I can't carry you back to the car. You have to be awake to help me."
There was no response.
Dean could see Sam's chest rise and fall feebly, the only indication that he was still alive. "Sam," he called out, louder. The youngest Winchester was shivering from the hypothermia he had gotten from the river But he didn't show any signs of waking.
"Is he okay?" Jo's voice asked from nearby. Dean hadn't even heard her come up.
"No," he snapped. "I thought I told you to wait by the car.
"You did," she answered. "But I couldn't just stand there when there was something I could be doing."
"Yeah?" Dean growled, finally looking over. "What is it exactly that you can do here?"
"I – uh . . ." She trailed off uncertainly.
"That's what I thought. Now go away."
Jo nodded and stepped back, but didn't leave. At that point, Dean didn't really care what she did, as long as she stayed out of his way. He tapped his brother's cheek, and felt a bit of relief when Sam turned his head toward the hand, which, while it was also wet and cold from the river, was warmer than his own body.
"That's right, buddy. Wake up," Dean said, putting his hands on either side of his brother's face to warm him up. Sam groaned, and Dean decided that this was definitely the best sound Dean had heard in a long time, not the feeble groan from before. Then Sam called his name, and he decided every time Sam made a noise, it was the best sound he'd heard. But that was the big brother in him.
"Eyes open, Sam," Dean ordered, though his caring voice betrayed his harsh words. "You know the drill."
"Too . . . h-heavy," Sam replied, teeth chattering.
"You need to get up and moving so you don't die from exposure," the older brother said. "Come on. I'll help you."
To his credit, Sam did his best to move. It just didn't work. In the end, Jo stepped forward and assisted Dean in getting the semi-conscious hunter to his feet. She was on one side, and Dean was on the other. Together, they dragged Sam all the way back to the car. They talked to him while they went, and sometimes he mumbled incoherently back, but was once again unconscious when they reached the Impala.
"I'll drive," Jo offered. "You can sit in th back with Sam."
Dean scowled, his expression narrowing dangerously at her horrific suggestion. Who did she think she was? No one was allowed to drive his car but him, and occasionally Sam. But remembering Sam caused his big-brother instinct to take over again, and he reluctantly handed her the keys.
"If you do anything to my baby, I swear I'll kill you," he warned as he slipped into the back and dragged Sam's body in with him.
"I'll be careful, Dean," she responded carefully, knowing she was already on thin ice with the man. "Where's the nearest hospital?"
"The cabin," he said.
"What?"
"Drive to the cabin. We can't go to a hospital."
She looked incredulous. "Why not?"
"Well, for starters, Sam would be completely helpless in there. The doctors wouldn't know what to do to help a man who's been possessed, and a lot of questions would be asked. Just take us back to the cabin, where we can fix him up and watch over him."
There was a pause as she started the car, and then he added caustically, "And by 'we' I mean me."
Jo wisely chose not to say anything to that. They made the trip back in complete silence. Dean wanted his music, but getting it would have required talking to Jo, and he wasn't quite ready for that yet, so he endured the silence. It took both of their effort to get Sam onto the couch, and Dean assured Jo he would handle getting his brother into dry clothes himself. The idea of her helping gave him a bad taste in his mouth for some reason.
"Where will you go now?" she asked as she prepared to leave.
"What are you talking about?" he returned.
"Now that you've gotten the demon out of Sam," she said. "What next?"
"We exorcised the demon, yes, but that doesn't mean it's dead. It could find another host and the killings could continue. We're not going anywhere until I make sure it's finished. Besides, Sam will need some time to recuperate."
Her mouth formed an "oh" shape as she realised he was right. She nodded and was tempted to ask if he needed her help, but already knew what he'd say. She would just have to continue her own investigation. Perhaps their paths would cross again and she could do something to help.
She left the brothers and drove back to her own motel. She changed clothes and fell into her bed in complete exhaustion, never noticing the black shadow enter her room.