Disclaimer : Dean and Sam were never mine. I don't mind, Mr. Kripke had taken a good care of them anyway.

Chapter 5

"Sam, Dean's awake"

Sam's heart pounded hard in his chest. He didn't know whether he supposed to be thankful or dreadful hearing the news. Jack's words from before, said right after Dean succumbed into his pain-driven oblivion - rang in his ears like a hive of bees.

"He needs you…now he's sleeping, so he won't feel anything…but when he wakes up, so does the pain"

Gulping nervously, Sam looked at Jack and the oldest Callahan answered his question before it was even asked with simply shaking his head and hunching his shoulders. The response sent a shiver down Sam's spine. Goosebumps appeared on the back of his neck and he trembled involuntarily.

"Sam?" he felt a comforting hand squeezing his shoulder and Sam jumped. Realizing immediately Dean was left unattended, possibly agonizing all by himself without anyone holding him to the ground and comforting him with soothing gestures and words.

'Dean!' like he was awakened from death, Sam bolted away from the wary hand and ran through the door; almost knocking Jack on his way in. In fact he knocked down a few things on his way to Dean. Making a mental note to apologize later for the mess he'd caused, Sam rammed the door; the only thing separated him from Dean.

Sam almost stumbles down to the floor for the impact but he was fully trained in regaining balance to let that happen. He looked to the bed, fearing the worse but was relieved to see Dean lying quietly on the bed; not kicking and jerking in waves of violent spasms, not puking blood which supposedly kept inside not outside the body, not screaming and wailing out of pain – Dean just lied there quietly with his eyes opened in slits, looking at him.

"Dean?" Sam went to his brother's side, one hand reaching out to touch Dean's hair. But he was heartbroken when Dean jerked away from him before he even touched him. "Dean?" Sam whimpered sadly.

It was not fair. He'd spent hours by Dean's bedside; waiting for him to come around, to have his brother opens his eyes to look at him and offers him a sarcastic waking up greeting. He was beat to hell, not eating, not sleeping, not doing anything – just sat there watching Dean slept, only to have his offering for comfort rejected by Dean.

"What the hell Dean?!" he was so hurt Sam felt like running away and banged his head to the wall. 'I hadn't done enough…I wasn't able to protect you'.

"I don't think he's really awake Sam" Jack came in, realizing Sam was disappointed in Dean's reaction. Something must be done before frustration and guilt enveloped Sam completely.

"What? You saw him…" Sam stopped as he studied Dean's figure. Registering something he didn't see before.

Dean's eyes were glassy and unfocused. The hazel orbs were moving restlessly in the sockets, as if Dean was focusing on an object moving rapidly in front of him. His face was dark with confusion. Dean's limbs trembled furiously; even under the layers of covers Sam could see the trembles, rocking his brother's feature restlessly. Dean was curled up; knees pulled up to his abdomen, arms hugging his body and one side of his face burrowed into the damp pillow – making him looked younger than he really was. But the eyes were what bothered Sam the most.

The pupils had stopped moving, now focusing intently to one direction, nothing. The look in the eyes was empty and Sam thought he never sees the hazel orbs looked so dazed before. They were almost dead; almost similar to the eyes Sam saw when he cradled Dean's lifeless form in his arms months ago. It was like Dean's soul had leave his body and couldn't find the way back in.

Sam tried reaching out again. This time as slowly as he could restrain himself. Hesitating at first, Sam raked a hand through Dean's sweaty hair. The wetness felt so cold, a contrast to Dean's scorching body. Nothing happened. Dean did nothing, neither jerking away nor leaning into his touch. Dean was really out of it.

"Dean…" Sam called softly, hoping that his voice could somehow pull Dean's soul back into his body. He's not ready to use the Ouija board, not again. The last time he did, he found a painful truth of his brother being chased by a reaper and he could do nothing about it. "Wake up you lazy ass"

Dean showed no signal he'd heard Sam. His body was stiff and his eyes were still as empty.

"Dean…please man, don't do this" Sam pled – if that what it would take to bring Dean back. He looked pathetically at Jack, as if asking for help from the only father figure available. Usually, in a critical situation like this, they would have Bobby providing encouraging words.

Jack didn't say a word, only replying with sympathetic eyes looking at Sam. Knowing a lot about John and words going around their unnatural community on how the young Winchesters looked up to their old man, Jack couldn't find the courage to provide the youngest Winchester an encouragement; fearing it would agitate the protective lion reigned inside the boys whose job was to guard their father's holy throne.

"Dean…wake up dude" Sam almost cried.

Before Dean went to hell, Sam was always the one had his eyes leaking. He cried when their father died, he cried when he had to shoot Madison, he cried the first time they knew John had left a voice message saying to contact Dean if help with the supernatural was needed and he cried when Dean died. Damn! He cried a lot then. But since he learnt the truth about what future Azazel planned for him, since he knew about the apocalypse and how they were smacked right in the middle of it and since he became so indulged in hunting Lilith, Sam had long stopped crying.

Now, he began to cry again, for the sake of his brother who was so alive yet so dead.

Suddenly, as if Sam's prayers were answered from a higher power, Dean stirred. The trembles lessened and the stiffness went lax. Sam's hand remained on Dean's head as he peeked into Dean's hazel eyes. He found droopy eyes gazing up at him, blinking tiredly as seconds passed. The emptiness Sam saw before was replaced with confusion which later turned to relief and lastly to rest.

……………………………………………….

Fire.

Pain.

Screams.

Pain.

And pain again.

Dean's eyes flipped open and immediately white pain seared throughout his body, making him arch and twist in the darkened space. Then the pain subsided and he felt numb all over. Dean looked around. He saw nothing but pitch black. No Sam, no Impala, no dad, nothing.

'What happened? What the hell happened?' he bolted upright and grimaced at the pain piercing his muscles. He clung to his midsection, trying to cushion the aching abdominal muscles. They felt terrible; as if hundreds of knives were stabbing into its flesh. He clenched his jaw and moved forward.

But then, he got nowhere to go. Everywhere were dark empty spaces. Dean sighed with frustration. He was thrown back down the pit, he was sure of it. Dean looked around, half expecting for Alistair to materialize in front of him and tease him like he used to, or for the whip to appear magically in his grasp so that he could continue his job.

No one came and nothing appeared. He was alone. Damn, he couldn't see any lifeline to hold on to. "Sam?" he called desperately.

"Sammy?" darkness was overpowering him. It started by engulfing his feet, snaking its way to his calves. Dean's breath caught. Something was taking him down fast and he had to look for something to hold on to, to drag him away from the darkness.

"Sammy?" Dean was shouting now. There was no echo. His voice disappeared into the infinite space. "Sammy…help me!" he cried, almost pleading when he saw the darkness had reached his waist, twisting and curling around his body in waves of black swirls.

He was overwhelmed by fear of losing himself to the darkness, Dean was not aware of something hovering over his head. When he realized it, he was too scared to see it was a line of light, a lifeline he'd been hoping for; Dean jerked away and the line shied away, leaving him again in total blackness.

"Sammy?" Dean recognized the lifeline anywhere.

When he had nightmares of hell while he's asleep, the line of light always came and he would hold on to it. Then it would drag him away from the fire, from Alistair, everything, back to consciousness. After three or four nightmares only Dean did realize the line of light was Sam's voice, urgently waking him up from his sleep.

"Sammy?!" he called again, hoping desperately Sam won't gives up on him. If Sam did, he would be swallowed by the darkness and when it was done, Dean knew he had no chance of getting back to the real world. It would be slim.

"Help me Sammy!" he wailed while the darkness had already reached his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. When it reached his throat, he was muted. He could scream for Sam but there was no voice coming out from his mouth. Dean's tears ran down his cheek. Now, he could only see his right hand and his head, no more. Everything else had vanished, blending with the empty and dark space and becoming a part of it.

Just as the darkness swallowed half of his head, Dean heard a voice in the distance. It sounded sad and desperate.

"Dean…?"

'Sam' Dean was unable to speak.

"Wake up you lazy ass!"

'Watch your mouth Sammy'

Then he saw the line of light, reaching down slowly to him. He tried grabbing it but damn, it came down too slow.

"Dean, please man…don't do this" Sam's sounded scared. Dean hated it when Sam was scared. It was his job to protect Sam and it wrenched his heart to see Sam got scared. That was why he talked to dad into letting Sam lived a normal life for as long as they could before exposing him to the real scary world.

Dean tried reaching for the line again, only to see his hand was completely engulfed by the darkness. 'No!' and that was it. He had lost.

'Sorry Sam'

"Dean…wake up dude" Sam's voice was muffled with sobs. Sam cried. It'd been long since Sam last cried. His baby brother must have been scared shit to start crying again. Dean couldn't give up now, he needed to get to Sam and hush him, to tell him everything is going to be okay, he can stop crying.

Dean's baby brother needs him and that was the sole reason for him to push through everything to get to Sam. So Dean pushed himself through the darkness, emerging like a blossoming flower; first his head, then neck and when his hand showed, Dean reached out and grasped the line, his lifeline, Sam.

As if the line had its power, the dark space glowed brightly when Dean's hand touched it and Dean was dragged away from there, just like he was dragged away from his nightmare before. Through practiced habit, Dean cracked his eyes to open in slits and there was Sam.

……………………………………………….

"Sam..my…" Dean slurred.

"Hi Dean" Sam laughed as tears rolled down his cheek. Was he crying or laughing? Maybe both. He was close to losing Dean just now, he couldn't care less if he was crying or laughing.

"You're…crying? P..pansy Sammy" Dean's voice was croaky and hoarse. It was laced with pain, Sam knew. It was not over. Dean was way far from recovering. Sarcasm had always been Dean's MO to hide his suffering, his defense mechanism to preserve his big brother's crown. He was not okay when he's being sarcastic.

"At least I'm not the one curling up like a girl having her menstrual cramp" Sam joked, easing Dean's distress of looking – and being – weak and helpless in front of him. He looked at the others thoughtfully, first at Jack and later at Kyle and Matt who haven't dared to enter the room. The grateful smile never leaves his feature as he returned to Dean.

Jack tugged a corner of his lips, smiling slightly at the satisfaction drawn across Sam's face. He was much amused at the brothers' banter, reminding him to too familiar sights happened around him every day when his sons were around. But he was aware the feel-good moment would soon diminish as he saw Dean's pained face.

"Wiseass" Dean hissed and winced later at the white hot pain beginning to reside behind his eyes. He squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the pain would go away. Dean labored to bring a hand to rub his eyes; only to have it pinned by Sam's cooling hand.

"Let me do it for you" Sam realized Dean's uneasiness as his brother was blinking more rapidly now and there were deep scrunches on Dean's forehead and lines under Dean's eyes that worried him. Sam registered them as signs of Dean having terrible headache.

Sam brought a gentle hand to Dean's face and rubbed his brother's now-closed eyes and then ran a thumb along Dean's brows, stroking them firm enough to chase the pain away and soft enough not to cause any discomfort.

……………………………………….

Darn! Even Sam's gentle touch felt like pricks of needle on his battered body. His muscle felt like jelly, all wobbly and squashy, as if they had been squashed by a baseball bat. But he didn't want to break Sam's heart by saying he was hurting him and the truth was, though it hurt physically, Sam's touch felt emotionally good.

Still, Dean didn't feel right. Deep down in his gut, something was burning fiercely and somewhere in his lungs something was waiting to erupt. He couldn't feel his hands and feet; only a tingling sensation which was damn irritating. And his head, oh God his head felt like squashed orange. Nope! He was not feeling so good.

Letting out an impatient breath Dean mumbled "Sam…I don't feel so good" as a cold shudder ran through his body, shaking him hard. Sam's hand abandoned his body at instant and Dean found himself craving to have it back. As if knowing his inner desire, Sam put back the hand on his forehead, holding it down to the pillow firm and reassuringly; as Dean's muscle started to jerk and twist agonizingly.

"Damn!" Dean muttered through gritted teeth while he squeezed his eyes tightly and turned restlessly on the bed, trying to find a position that would hurt less. He even stopped breathing because breathing hurt like hell.

"Dean, you've got to breathe man…" Sam coaxed him gently. The hand was caressing his forehead; a little bit shaky and cold, but it was there offering comfort and companion. It felt like reassurance, that Sam wasn't going anywhere; he'd be there by Dean's side. "Breathe through it bro" Sam's voice kept him grounded.

Dean found himself following Sam's soothing assurance, making his little brother's voice as a lifeline. That was what Sam had always been to him. A lifeline. If Sam snaps, he would snap too. That was why he made the deal in the first place. Sam was the reason for him to live. He'd lost mom, and dad was dead the night mom died, Sam was the only reason for him to live. He'd die without Sam. Even when he was down the pit, Sam's name never leaves the tip of his lips.

So Dean followed Sam's guide; breathing when Sam asked him to breathe, and bracing himself for the pain when Sam pled him to be strong. But his body decided not to follow Sam. It decided to follow a course of its own.

He pitched a fit; a fit of seizure. His body started rocking, slightly at first and then intensified tenfold in just a minute. Dean arched and twisted miserably on the bed, tossing and turning as the pain snaked through him; starting from his feet, going up to his head in a blow. He gritted his teeth, trying to stifle a moan, but when the pain peaked, he couldn't help but groaned irritably and later screamed in agony.

Dean lost track of the time and his own senses. He couldn't remember when Sam moved, but the minute he realized it, Sam was already lying next to him. Sam's long arms were enveloping his trembling body, bracing him and pinning him down to the bed.

"I'm here Dean…I'm here" he heard Sam whispering to his ears and he could feel Sam's hitched breath on his cheek. Sam was keeping Dean's head down with his own; Sam's forehead nudging the side of his head gently and pushing it down to the pillow. His feet were held down by Sam's gangly ones. He was thankful for that because if it wasn't for Sam, Dean was sure he would be kicking and thrashing about until he hurt himself.

But luck never sided with him. It decided to play tricks on him, making him thinks he was okay when he really was not.

…………………….

Dean started having a lockjaw. And he started chewing his own teeth as his eyes rolled, showing white all over.

"Sam, put something in his mouth!" Jack's voice bobbed in the chaos.

Sam snapped and looked at Dean. Dean's face muscles were twitching and contracting funnily and his eyes went white. Sam's throat went dry at instant. "Sam, now!" and he didn't give it a second thought as Sam sled the side of his hand into Dean's gaping mouth. The second he put it in, Dean clamped his jaw and Sam held back the urge to cry at the pain spiking in his hand.

"Shit!" Jack cursed. When he ordered Sam to put something in Dean's mouth he didn't mean his hand.

At this cue, Matt and Kyle darted towards the bed and grabbed Dean's limbs, helping Sam pinned his brother to bed, while Jack rushed out of the room and came back later with a huge first aid kit. The oldest Callahan rummaged the kit for a muscle relaxant and when he found one, he started preparing for a syringe.

Hoping that this last option would work, Jack sprang to Dean's side and shot the boy's right thigh with the muscle relaxant. Dean didn't even flinch as he got a more excruciating pain to be taken care of. When he was done, Jack tossed the syringe away and helped restraining Dean to the bed.

The muscle relaxant took a couple of minutes before it started working, and when it did, Dean's spasm lessened and his body went limp under their hands. His jaw loosened and Sam took his hand out; now bleeding from Dean's bites, and stared at Dean. Dean was more relaxed and finally was resting. Blood trickled from one of his nostril and Sam's heart stopped.

"Don't worry…it's the heat" Jack assured. No brain damage was in question. But he was affirmative Dean's temperature was slowly reaching the level where brain damage could be triggered. "Got to cool him down though" he suggested.

Sam wiped the blood trickling Dean's cheek with his trembling fingers and stood silently by his side. "I…I need to go for a while" he murmured and went out of the room. His feet brought him instinctively towards the bathroom.

Sam closed the bathroom door behind him and lurched towards the porcelain bowl, emptying his bowel in violent retching. Seeing Dean in so much pain, made him nauseous. Thinking of how Dean's body twisted and turned under his own a moment ago made his stomach churned and whatever little food left in his system rolled out from his mouth in another wave of heaving.

Sam was unsure of how long he'd been puking his guts out, but a soft knock on the bathroom door brought him to his feet. He unlocked the door and stepped outside.

"Sam, are you okay?" Kyle was standing ahead of him, face etched with worries.

"Yeah, just need…" before Sam could even finish his sentence, his consciousness gave way and he stumbled forward; barely kissing the floor before strong arms caught him by the shoulders.

"Oh God Sam!"

"Dean…" he murmured before closing his eyes, succumbing to infinite darkness.

TBC

a/n: Yikes! I got over reacted with this chapter. Tell me whether I should give the boys a break or just continue with the torturing (Bad bad me!). The humid weather really is affecting me, making me lashed the oppressive heat on those boys, uh-oh! Thanks for reading. Hope you like it!