Chapter 8

Dean sat by his brother's bed, carding his hand through the unruly hair, oblivious to the wretched, wheezing sobs coming from Sam. "D-Dean?" Every inch of the younger brother was shaking. His chest hurt like hell, as did every large muscle group in his body. "Wh-what happened?" Dean sat like he was carved from stone and kept running his fingers calmly through his brother's hair. "Nn-" He swallowed and almost choked. A layer of blood was coating his tongue.

"Shh," Dean didn't take his eyes from a spot on the wall. Completely checked out.

Sam shivered and tried to sit again when something shifted inside him. "Ahr," The cry turned to a whimper. "D-n," Like air fizzing out a valve. He made it to the side with Dean's hand falling limply on the pillow Sam had abandoned. "Hhn," His lungs felt collapsed. He could hardly inhale and the exhales were like breathing fire. What the fuck is happening to me? Dean! Why're you just sitting there! He reached out for a chair with a small bowl on it.

The chair tipped over and sent the bowl crashing to the floor with a clatter. Shit! Dean?! He couldn't feel the tremors any more, but could see them in his outstretched hands. "Hhn," All he felt was the burning need to draw in air and the pain of being denied the simple gesture. Shocked voices suddenly exploded in the room around him. "Sam! Jesus, kid. Dean, what's wrong? Dean! What the hell's happening?"

Sam tumbled to the floor, away from his brother and into the waiting arms of Rufus. "Sam! Answer me." Realized it was Bobby who had shouted before.

And Sam tried, he really did, but all he could was crumble in a heap on the floor. He landed on his back, looking up into Rufus' wide open mouth; man yelling at everyone in the room, before it all went black.

Pain returned like a sunrise. First the sky lightened, senses were reawakened. His finger twitched. Birds started chirping, voices spoke softly in the background. He blinked sluggishly. Then came the sun, shocked faces staring at him. He recognized them instantly. And for the first time in a long time Dean felt unsettled. Deeply so. His muscles burned along with the pulsing in his head. Two distinct voices were hovering in the air. Stirring the dull dust, floating around.

The fly from earlier had died during its time trapped behind the closed window. Belly-up with six legs sticking into the air. Dean felt a short sting of sadness for the fly. It never asked to be trapped. All it wanted was to fly.

"Dean!"

He flinched so violently he almost fell from his seat. His wide eyes stared up at Bobby, looking down. He looked furious. Fury. The word stirred an emotion in Dean. His eyes glazed again. The word became the emotion. "Where's my brother?" His voice took on a granite-like edge.

"Alive," Came the tart reply. Rufus was sitting next to Bobby, across from Dean. Both of them, holding guns. Seated with their backs to the exit and effectively blocking it. The sun hit them from a point, low in the sky.

"Where?"

"The hospital."

"What?" Dean blinked slowly and frowned. His face felt numb. And on top he was having real trouble remembering anything. "He didn't turn," It wasn't a question.

"No," The answer wasn't delivered with the compassion he'd gotten so used to from his surrogate father. Bobby was glaring daggers at him. "No thanks to you."

He frowned. The facial numbness was wearing off. Now their hostility made sense. Well, no, but more sense if he'd done something wrong. "Did I hurt him?" The question brought with it a deep pang in his chest. Did I hurt my brother? The thought alone was enough to physically pain him. No matter how out of his mind he was, no matter how much the little shit deserved it sometimes, he'd never hurt Sam. He'd never scared Sam. Not when he'd given his life to protect the kid on several occasions.

"Not directly," Bobby's voice was still a little deadened.

Dean found it surprisingly hard to care. His frown deepened. "How?"

"He was bleedin' to death from the inside out," Rufus' voice wasn't dead. It wasn't dark or callous. It was pissed-the-hell-off furious.

There was that word again.

Like the fly in the window.

Dean's features smoothed out. "But he's alright?" He could feel blood returning to his fingers and feet. Felt the pain with it too.

"Yeah," Rufus looked at him in slight disbelief. Mostly just suspicion.

"Where is he?" He tried to stand, but his thighs felt like Jell-O. Dean wanted nothing more than to get his little brother and leave the state. The old house was starting to scare him.

"You already asked that," Bobby answered in the same, dead voice.

"Which hospital?" Dean felt clarity return. He felt a spasm in his neck and craned it to the side. His spine made a loud crack. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

Bobby and Rufus both looked disbelieving. "I ain't so sure I wanna tell ya' that."

"Why the hell not?" Dean's voice came out the closest thing he'd heard to a growl in a long time. He felt calm. In control.

"Because you've been zoned out for near three days, Dean," Now Bobby's voice was a roar of anger, instead of the dark tone from before.

"Three…" He stopped midway. Dean stared at the two men in shock, attempted a smile that felt aggressive. "No."

"Yes!" Rufus demanded and rose from his seat. "What the hell happened three days ago, kid?" He stopped an inch from Dean and leaned down.

"I. I'm not sure." Dean glanced at Bobby. "I think it's Hephzibah."

"Yeah, ya know what? I'm startin' to think so too," Bobby growled getting angrier with each moment.

"I wanna see Sam," Dean could feel the need to see his brother like a burning in his bones. "I mean…" He looked from man to man. "What the Hell even happened? How's he doing?"

"His lung nearly collapsed. He was coughin' up blood and the docs couldn't figure out why," Bobby removed his cap, only to place it right back on. Some of the steam fizzing out and leaving behind a weary man.

Dean got up from his seat, wavering only a little. "I'm gettin' him and we're leaving," He made it to Rufus when he felt the man yank him back.

"Hey! Easy," Bobby barked at the older hunter.

Rufus leaned in. "You're not goin' anywhere until we stop that bitch from killin' any more people."

Dean grimaced from the pain in his biceps. "If you're here, then who's protecting Sam?"

"Stella and Freddy," Bobby answered.

A disbelieving huff was all the answer Dean gave. He felt it said all he wanted to convey.

At Rufus' next words he did a double take. "They took your car out," but before he could respond Bobby continued.

"They're a lot more capable than you think, Dean," Bobby said again.

Yeah, but she's a fucking joke, and he's a fucking stranger, something roared in his head. "Alright, but I'm still getting him. I'm done."

Rufus let go reluctantly. "You've still got a witch runnin' around."

"Consider yourselves tagged," Dean ripped free and left the two hunters steaming. One in disbelief, the other in outright hatred.

The town was twenty minutes away. The hospital only five. Dean pulled up, was out the car and slamming the desk at the nurses' station in thirty seconds. "I'm here for my brother," Luckily the nurse knew Sam by first name and injuries. He wasn't sure what he'd done if they'd asked for a last name. He had no idea which alias Bobby had checked him in under.

He thought it was all snapping together when suddenly the nurse looked up with something nearing sympathy in her eyes. "I'm sorry,"

"What?" Dean snapped.

"We were told not to let anyone know where he was."

"Look, he's the only family I got. He's my brother. You can't hold him here."

"Nurse," A doctor walked up with a hand out at the nurse. "You're Mr. Walter's brother?"

"Dr-"

He silenced her again with a raised hand.

"Yes," Dean wasn't so sure, but he'd take anything he could at this point.

"He was admitted by a Mr. and Mrs. Adams two days ago?" He glanced up and Dean nodded. He figured they were Freddy and Stella's on-the-spot aliases in case of emergency. "I'm afraid Mrs. Adams had to step out, but we can go up to speak with Mr. Adams if you wish?"

He felt sick at the prospects opening up to him, but nodded anyway.

The doc turned. "Follow me please," He didn't seem that concerned with the scene Dean had almost created in the waiting area, nor did he seem especially engaged in his patient's welfare.

They'd put a fucking embargo on him seeing his own brother. The reason eluded him. It didn't make a lick of fucking sense to him. No one had told him what'd happened and 'checking out' didn't scream threat-level Alpha to him. Everybody was just gonna have to deal. In the waiting room on the second floor, right by the elevator banks, sat Freddy "Adams" reading a magazine when Dean and the doctor entered.

"Right in here. We were going to call your uncle today and give him an update, but I'm glad you came," The words coming out of his mouth held no real emotions, and Dean barely noticed when he turned and left without word.

He wondered how busy the guy could possibly be in a town of six people, and turned to look at Freddy, pondering if he'd have to resort to begging to see Sam or if the guy even cared that much. "Hey."

"Hey," He came to a stand and put the magazine away. "How are you doing? Where's Singer and Turner?"

"Back at the house, packing shit up," Dean glanced down the hall. "Which one's my brother?" he asked even as he moved forward and pointing.

Freddy aborted whatever he was about to say with slightly anxious eyes. "You know, I'm a pretty decent guy, Dean," Dean paused and turned back. "Rufus asked me to join him because he trusts me."

Dean's jaw fluttered.

"I take that as high praise."

"Sure," He forced out a smile, which again seemed more aggressive than anything.

"They told me you were passed out. Weird," he added in a very cautious tone of voice.

Dean nodded, but didn't offer anything this guy wasn't willing to rip out. "So…?" He asked, pointing in the direction of the rooms.

"Bobby just called," Freddy said, and something dark slipped over his eyes.

Dean nodded, running his eyes quickly over the hunter, checking for weapons, measuring up size. Possible strength. Then he struck out and smashed a fist into Freddy's nose. Hopefully breaking it in the process. Caught the guy on his way down and carefully guided him over to a chair.

He looked around, but the area was empty and Freddy was moaning softly. "Which room's my brother in, Freddy?"

He moaned as he pinched his with eyes wide shut.

Dean reflected on the fact that it had been over ten years since he'd last used physical force against a person as a first option. It struck him and left in moments. "Freddy?"

He pointed to a door on the left hand side, halfway down the hall and Dean didn't waste time. He found his brother's room and entered fully, suddenly feeling relaxed again. Sam was dozing. "Hey, kiddo."

His reaction was subtle, but Dean caught it. Sam's eyes widened in fear.

"Hey…" He hesitated.

Dean did as well, but figured it was better to get it out of the way. "Look, I talked to Bobby and Rufus. They told me I've been out of it the past three days."

"You think Heph-"

"Yeah," Silence ensured. Both glanced down and fiddled with their shirts. Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead. The headache was back. "Look, I know you're a little spooked right now, but Bobby said they'd fix it. All we gotta do is get you in the car and get as far away from here as possible."

Sam nodded slowly and glanced up. "You feel better?"

Dean huffed. "You're not the one who should be askin' that question, man."

Sam shrugged and tried for a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

"Anyway. The doc said he had some info, but I'm gonna talk to him about gettin' you out. You ready to go?" He'd have to figure a way around Freddy too.

Sam nodded and shifted his legs over the side of the bed. Part of him privately wondered why his brother was in a hurry. It got overridden by the parts of him that trusted his big brother. The parts of him that were really just desperate for approval however they could get it.

"I'll be right back."

The doctor wasn't happy, but signed the youngest Winchester out AMA, Freddy was MIA, and Dean had them both in the car within ten minutes. So far he thought it was going pretty good. He called Bobby when they left city limits, and ended the call when the old hunter tried to ask where they were headed.

His headache felt better, and his general mood had lifted. By the time they reached the next town the headache was completely gone.

Even Sam felt better. He was on his bed in a new motel room, three missed calls from Bobby, when he first noticed something was still a little off about Dean. About three minutes before, he'd gone to the bed closest to the door, and sat down. Then he'd picked a spot on the wall and focused on it.

"Dean?"

He was still staring straight ahead like a doll.

"Hey?" The youngest Winchester leaned slightly forward to peer at his sibling. "You alright?" He fingered the dial button for Bobby, but didn't push.

No response. Dean was still as a statue, but the look in his eyes suggested he wasn't nearly as calm as he seemed.

"Dean?" Sam's voice dropped with hesitation. He got up with slow movements and circled around his comatose brother. "You there?" Still no answer. He wasn't even sure Dean was aware where he was. Still reeling from the torture of the past week, Sam didn't feel entirely comfortable with this personality change his brother was exhibiting. "I'm gonna call Bobby, alright?" He kept his voice light as he gripped his cell. It only took two seconds with his back turned for Dean to lunge.

A vice-like grip wrenched his arm back. A shove forced Sam stomach first onto the table. His arm was then yanked back till Sam let loose a painful cry and dropped the phone. "Dean! What the Hell!?" Dean wrenched it back harder till Sam felt something pop. "Ahr!" He was panting heavily against the sticky table top when Dean ripped his head up by the hair and slammed it against the tabletop. Once. He cried out and panted through the pain, tried to brace with his free hand. Twice. Sam felt reality grow a bit fuzzier around the edges. "Dean, stop-" He was released and tumbled to the floor. Hit the ground with a muffled thud and low moan.

Dean towered over him as he tried to crawl away. Whatever person Dean Winchester had once been, was light years away that night. Without preamble he reached down and yanked his brother up and hurled him sideways into the wall.

"No!" Sam yelped when he struck and fell back down. "Dean, please wait-"

But Dean simply stepped forward and launched a kick at Sam's legs, making the younger man draw them closer. A second kick struck something in his chest and forced the air out of his lungs.

Intellectually Sam knew something was wrong. In his rational mind he realized this wasn't who he'd been raised by. It wasn't really Dean.

And as the blows kept coming, Sam repeated that mantra. He tried to fight back, but realized fairly quickly that he couldn't make himself hit hard enough to cause damage, and switched tacks to attempting escape. He made it to the door, fingers on the handle, when one foot was ripped out from under him and twisted up. When a particularly vicious punch forced him into one of the bedside lamps he was prepared to admit to himself that he'd lost. That is wasn't Dean, and that it wouldn't matter in two days' time. Even when a last kick aimed at his chest forced him back and out of the world of the conscious he told himself it wasn't really as bad as he thought. It's not him rolled around his brain until he finally passed out and stayed out.

He had been forced into a corner behind the bed and left there.

As if flicking a switch Dean suddenly stopped when Sam fell unconscious, got under the covers, and went to sleep.

TBC