Disclaimer: Don't own.

Warnings: Canon levels of violence and language. If germs bother you, this might be a bit squicky.

Word count: 6,678

AN: Enjoy!

Chapter 14: Cat Scratch Fever

Screeching tires made Dean throw up his hands, knees bent for bolting. He sensed more than saw Cas stay stock still. Headlights washed over them and Dean guarded his eyes, hand to his face. His lips pulled over his teeth. A blue pick-up truck skidded to a halt, rubber stench surrounding him and the truck's grill inches from his knees. He couldn't see the driver, but didn't have to as the passenger door opened. Clary stepped out and went to them. She eyed them with her mouth hanging open.

"Son of a bitch, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Could say the same to you. Get in."

Dean nodded, yanking Cas's arm. Dean took the passenger seat while Cas got in the backseat. They barely had enough time to slam the doors before Clary pressed on the gas. Cas fell back onto the seat with a soft thump. Dean stared at Clary, eyes not as wide as before, but the same open mouthed expression.

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing here?"

"…And again, the same to you. What, were you in Canada?"

Dean did a double take, but the irritation on his face was surprisingly short lived. He snorted.

"Oh Dudley Douchebag tried to keep us in a lock-up. Guy had a paddy wagon and everything." He laughed, continuing. "No, uh, when Cas zapped us to the middle of nowhere…How'd-"

"I get out? My stele. Do you…know, or-or see anyone else get out?"

Dean shook his head. Clary continued to speak.

"No. No, I didn't either. When I got back to New York City, I tired, but I couldn't find anybody."

"How did you find us by the way?"

Clary pointed to the dufflebag behind her. Cas reached for it, unzipping it. Maellartach peeked out from piles of clothes, blade gleaming up at them. Cas's fingers hovered over the visible pieces.

"Where did you get this?" Cas asked.

Clary cleared her throat, beginning her explanation at when she first arrived in Idris, winding up to finding the Wayland Manor up until leaving the city of New York. She finished up with her plans to sneak into the Canadian border. She wet her lips. Dean whistled.

"So a vessel huh? And you said yes?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Yeah and it's actually pretty good."

Dean's whole body tensed. His eyes narrowed. "Are you still you? That can't be possible."

"Actually it can." Cas said. "It's unlikely but from what Clary has said, it would make sense. This…Ithuriel has been trapped, tethered, and grace drained. For more than a decade correct? That could sufficiently weaken an angel. To the point that it would be more of a symbiotic bond."

Clary nodded. Dean, who had spared Cas a glance, now turned back into his seat. His smile spread into a slow grimace, transforming into a tight snarl, lips barely contained his teeth. Green eyes dulled, color replaced by blankness as he stared straight ahead. Cas shifted in his seat, hands moving from dufflebag to Dean's shoulder, but before they could reach their destination, Dean's expression cleared.

"Well ain't you a lucky duck."

Clary's laugh crashed out of her and smashed itself onto the dashboard.

"Yeah."

SPNTMI

Sunlight burned its way up for the early rise, making Dean squint. Dean's tongue ran over his teeth, a film of spit-grime. The crud in his eyes was too much to blink away. His neck was stiff and he grunted. Dean squirmed in his seat, stretching as the wheel jolted. Clary yelped, hands sliding all over the steering wheel. Dean grabbed the wheel, yanking hard to the right. Clary raised her palms up, letting Dean steer.

"Think the tire's blown out. Turn on the emergency lights."

Clary fumbled with the turn signal and tapped on the breaks. They pulled onto the next lane.

"Got a spare?" Dean asked.

"No, I don't think so. No."

"Shit ok, let's try to get off on the next exit."

They managed to get off the highway and into town at a snails' pace. As they limped down the road, Dean kept watch on the streets. He frowned. Very little cars on the road and stores had closed signs featuring prominently in their windows. A buzzing settled in Dean's shoulders, making them tense and knot. A ball began to form in his stomach, a kind of metallic lining that made his back straighten. Brain taunt and focused. His sight felt sharper to him somehow and Cas and Clary's exhales of breath seemed louder to him as well. He jumped when Clary moved in his peripheral vision.

Clary pointed out a service station to their left. Gas pumps were next a sign that promised free air, tune-up offers, and a mechanic in the back. They pulled in and piled out of the truck. Dean stood, leaning against the truck as he cracked his neck. Clary slowly eased out as Cas fumbled with the door handle. He clambered out and stood next to Dean. As Clary began to fill up the tank, Cas nudged Dean.

"Do you…"

"You're angel-sense tingling?"

Cas frowned. "Um…yeah. Something is definitely not right."

"Preaching to the choir. We're in, uh, Hastings right?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Then yeah, this part of town should be busy, middle of the week like this."

Dean heaved himself up from his leaning and turned, squinting at the auto-shop adjacent to the gas station. A man was coming out of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag. He appeared to be the only person working, the lights inside dim. Dean slapped Cas's shoulder, making his way to the garage. Clary, who had just come out of the gas station, saw where Dean was headed and changed her route to match his. A newspaper was clutched in one hand. Dean raised his hand in greeting to the emerging mechanic.

A heavy-set man with a friendly air smiled at them, his five o'clock shadow obvious against a smooth complexion and dark eyes. He put the rag in his back pocket. He nodded at the two of them, but didn't shake hands.

"Hey what can I do for you?"

"We need a new tire." Clary said. "I don't know why, but it just blew out."

Dean then let the conversation between Clary and the mechanic filter out of his mind, their words had a soft buzz as he peered about. Nope, there was no one else in the auto-shop. Dean frowned. He could see only a few parked cars in a lot from across the street. After seeing the clear streets, his attention was brought down the newspaper in Clary's hands. The bold letters demanding his eye's concentration.

'SWINE FLU HITS HASTINGS

Hastings, MI. Over 200 cases of swing flu have been reported within the city of Hastings. The center for disease control or CDC has reported shocking results of an outbreak that hasn't been heard of in nearly a decade. Residents are encouraged to-"

"-Can't until tomorrow."

Dean tuned back into the conversation, looking back up.

"Say what?"

The man chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He colored a bit and repeated himself.

"I said I don't have a tire in your size, but I ordered a shipment that's due tomorrow that'll have it. I could give you a simple patch up job for now, if you want."

"That sounds fine." She smiled. "Where's a place to stay?"

The mechanic frowned. "Well the closest place that's open is down the road. Should give you some fair prices too."

Dean gave a little shrug and grunt that Clary caught and she nudged him.

"Honestly kinda tired of just of powering through."

"…Yeah ok."

"Come back tomorrow round….ten. I'll sort you out."

Clary thanked him and the two walked back to the car.

SPNTMI

They found the motel without a hitch, and again there was hardly any cars in the lot. A lone female clerk was in charge of the desk. She had not touched their hands, dropping the room keys in Dean's open palm before putting a liberal amount of hand sanitizer on her hands. She had pointed in the direction of their room, doing the same thing with any other place that would have required directions.

It left the three of them in a two bedroom room with a cot. Clary was already lying on top of her bed, flipping through channels as Dean packed the fridge with snacks and drinks. Cas sat stiffly on the other bed, looking in between Dean and Clary. His hands sitting his lap, fingers curled loosely.

Dean got up, beer in one hand and newspaper in the other. He sat down at the small table closest to the door and began to read. After a moment he made a cry of discovery. Cas and Clary turned to him.

"Apparently the first reported cases of swine flu were in the same nursing home on the same ward."

Clary turned down the volume of the TV. "But…is that really that surprising?"

Dean shrugged, as if to concede the point, but his expression was too set to agree with the sentiment. He scanned the paper.

"Says here that it spread like wildfire-yeah I know-but there were no known cases and then suddenly, boom. CDC says their 'baffled' by the speed. Almost all the reported cases are severe too, like there's no middle ground level of sick, just really really sick."

Cas made a humming noise in his throat, eyes downward. Dean lowered the newspaper, staring at Cas. Dean scanned the angel's face. Cas was too silent, but Dean found himself leaning over the table, chair creaking as he did so. Cas squinted for a moment, then nodded.

"There could be something at play. It is…worth checking out."

"Right." Dean said.

Dean sat back for a moment, hands wrapping around his beer. His heels rocked back as he returned to leaning forward. He took a pull of his beer and then set it down on the table.

"Ok, here's a game plan."

SPNTMI

The Sunny Side Acres nursing home was a somewhat old building that did not show age well. An off-white paint was already peeling to reveal a grayer shade beneath it and all the stairs and ramps had spots of rust along their handles. The inside was much the same, with generic egg colored walls that had a slight yellow tinge to them. Florescent lights had a soft hum to them, their light staying true and wasn't abrasive in the daylight. The three of them made their way from a side entrance and began to walk up a flight of stairs.

"Ok, so I'm someone's granddaughter if anyone asks?" Clary said.

"That's the plan." Dean said.

Clary giggled. "I'm assuming that makes one of you my dad? Or both of you?"

Dean scoffed, sparing her a quick glare. Cas stared at them as if seeing an oddly interesting wall had come up.

"Admit it, you walked into that one." Clary said.

Dean broke into a small smile. He finally nodded and opened the door for her as they got onto the second floor. Its halls were decorated with colorful streamers and construction paper. Near the end of the hall a cork board with pictures of staff and patients dominated the wall. Some faces grinned; others didn't so much as twitch the lips. Some of the doors on the floor were shut, but a few were open. Dean found the one closest to the door on the right to be open.

Paper flowers surrounded a name plate that read 'Helen Kraginski' in a simple black font. He wrapped his knuckles on the door as he gazed into the room to spy an old woman hunched over in a chair, absorbed in a book. At his rap, she looked up. She sniffed, eyes a little glassy but inquisitive at the sight of three strangers. Her face was red and puffy.

"Yes, can I help you?" she croaked.

"Ah." Dean cleared his throat. "Scuse' us, this is gonna sound weird, but has anything strange or bad happened around here or maybe in town?"

"That does sound weird." She set down her book. She blew her nose before continuing. "Nothing really comes to mind, just people getting sicker than usual. Reminds me of the old days when…"

She went on for a little bit as Clary and Cas exchanged a look as Dean rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat as Clary gave a stare to Dean while Cas pointed his gaze to the woman with a determined expression.

"Uh…look Lad-er Mrs. Kraginski we've got to go-" Dean said.

Her face fell and Clary held up her hands.

"Not that it's not interesting, cause' it is, but we've got-got-"she said

"An emergency." Dean said.

"We're sorry for wasting your time Mrs. Kraginski." Cas said.

Mrs. Kraginski waved them away, calling goodbyes. They stayed long enough to find no suspicious activity of people, even sneaking into the security booth, but found nothing to keep them there.

SPNTMI

Castiel rubbed his eyes, crust coming off his fingers. Sitting up, palms flat against the rumpled bedspread. As braced as he was, a wave of dizziness passed over him. Body buzzed in a hot-chill flash. He frowned. Was the strange pressure in his head due to falling asleep? In fact, his entire body felt that way. Mouth full of sour spit, tongue heavy inside the mouth. It was hard to swallow, unexpected pain when he did so. He sniffed, unable to smell anything. There was a more curious sensation. A sort of tingling in the nose that that only increase with every shaky inhale. A quick tremor went through the head and down to the chest. His lips pulled back, quivering of their own accord. It was entirely too distracting. He was barely able to pay attention to Dean and Clary. He wasn't even sure what they were conversing about.

Castiel breathed in too sharply and suddenly his face scrunched, eyes squeezing tight as he expelled a burst of wet air with a mangled noise. Much better. Except for the fact that he had an even harder time breathing and that Dean had stopped speaking in favor of staring at him.

"Dude." He said.

"What?" Clary frowned. "He just-"

"Angels don't sneeze." Dean said.

Oh. Castiel sniffed. Something thick and damp filled his nose rather than air. Oh, mucus. Right. Another tickling sensation, this time reaching the back of his throat. He sneezed again, more forceful this time. A cool wetness misted on his hands and ran down to his nose and lips. Dean made a noise of disgust and Castiel tilted his head.

"I knew it."

"I'll get some Kleenex."

Dean and Clary said in unison. Clary came back with tissue, setting the box next to him. Dean sat at his right and Clary at his left. Castiel pulled out a handful, mopping up his hands. Dean indicated that he should get a fresh one for his nose. He pressed it the mucus, letting the tissue absorb it.

"Blow." Dean said, pulling out a tissue and wrapping his nose. "Like this."

Castiel mimed the gesture and the pressure in his head lessened. He balled the now thick tissue up. As soon as he could breathe freely he sneezed again, making Dean and Clary jump, as the two were sitting close to him.

"Dude." Dean repeated.

"Sorry." He croaked.

Clary glared at Dean. She turned back to Castiel. "Just cover your mouth and nose when you do that ok?"

Castiel nodded. Dean edged closer, eyes holding some emotion that Castiel was too tired to sort out. He sighed, lowering his gaze, face oddly hot. He frowned at the thick pulsing vein at the column of Dean's neck. Normally his skin was a light tan…

"I knew something weird was going on. Seriously, why else would an angel catch cold?"

"I don't-"

"Like what?"

Dean frowned. He scratched at his neck. Flakes of skin snowed down his jacket, revealing an angry red patch where the previous skin had been. Dean caught Castiel staring, fingers continuing to dart around his neck. His ears were red too.

"What?"

"Your neck."

Dean rubbed his neck, fingers scraping at skin. When he got a decent hold, he tore a long thin strip of skin from his neck. Green eyes snapped open as he dangled the filmy layer to his face. He dropped it to the floor and bolted into the bathroom.

Clary watched with an off green complexion. She looked down at the floor to the piece of skin, swallowing convulsively. She opened her mouth, but whatever was about to come out of it was drowned by Dean's sudden blue streak.

"-ucker, son of a bitch!" Dean smacked the sink. "The horseman, this has got their bullshit written all over." It's Pestilence, man, its gotta be."

Dean emerged from the bathroom with a towel in one hand, matting his face with it. He leaned against the doorframe.

"Damn it, I got rashes everywhere-" He cut himself off.

Clary shifted in her seat. Frowning with lips puckered, she gave a shaky breath just as a stench grew more pervading as time had passed. There was no accompanied noise but it was thick enough in smell to taste. Clary gave a slight groan as Dean made a face, flushing as she did so.

Clary nodded. "Yeah I-" she went pale. "I'm gonna be sick-"

She stood and raced to the bathroom. She pushed past Dean, who held his hands up as Clary slammed the door. Castiel and Dean winced at the sounds of violent retching reverberating through the door. Castiel sniffed against the stuffiness that coming back and he huffed, throat protesting at the vocal choice.

"Yes." He rasped. "Pestilence."

"Yeah, but how'd we catch-the nursing home."

Castiel nodded. "An ideal place for diseases to-to-" he cleared his throat, raw scraping sensation as he began to cough. "You get the idea."

Dean scratched his neck, fingers jumping on the skin. Castiel grimaced as more flakes of skin dusted Dean's jacket. Once he realized what he was doing, he shook himself.

"Pestilence must have amplified whatever infections-"

"That we probably only got from Pestilence." Dean growled, only to cough himself. "Doesn't matter. We gotta kill ourselves a horseman."

"How'd you do it last time?"

"Cut off his finger with the ring. He's got one of those right? That wasn't a one-time thing?"

"No he does. All horseman have them."

The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened. Clary emerged wan and ashen-faced. She sagged against the door.

"So…what's happening?"

"Gotta cut off lil ol' Pestilence's pinky finger."

"Mmmmm ok."

Clary straightened herself in a shaky effort, exhaling slowly. Castiel leaned forward, about to get up when a wave of dizziness brought him up short. Almost against himself, he lay all the way back down. Clary got back to her bed and mirrored Castiel position. Dean rubbed his arms, looking between Clary and Castiel and wet his lips.

"So what's the game plan?" Clary asked.

Dean stared at them a moment longer. Castiel sat up, ignoring the way his arms and shoulders shook at the shift in weight. He gritted his teeth and spots in his vision gave him pause. Dean took a breath.

"So what, we go back to that old folks home and find him?" Clary asked.

Dean shrugged. "Might not even be there. Hmmm…wait. The newspaper. Doesn't Hastings have a local CDC?"

"Gimme the paper." Clary said.

Dean tossed the paper and it landed on her chin, earning a chuckle out of her. She flipped the paper over, pages rustling as she scanned.

"Mmm yeah. Right yeah, it does, but it doesn't give an address."

Dean grinned. "Not a problem."

After a few minutes, Dean was jotting down an address. Clary gave another shaky exhale and Castiel concentrated to turn to her.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"I'm sorry."

Clary shrugged. "No offense, but you look like you're about to keel over."

"I'll live."

"Ok, so I got an address and a plan." Dean said.

"Let's hear it." Clary said.

"We go into the CDC, get into the security and see if we can't find what's what. Pestilence has got to have a tell. Something."

"Wait," Clary held up her hand. "Then going to the nursing home tipped him off. That's why we're sick."

"She's right. He'll know we're coming." Castiel said.

"Yeah and if he's anything like his compadre, he'll be cocky. So here's the plan."

SPNTMI

Dean tugged at the collar of his monkey suit, tie cutting into his adam's apple. He scowled. It only deepened when he spared a glance at Cas. The falling angel was pale save for a blotchy flush riding high on his face. His eyes didn't hold the usual sharpness he was used to. Cas was blinking slowly. The fuzziness of the hospital surgical masks that the front desk handed to them the moment they walked inside. The off-color blue-green didn't match Cas. Dean shook off the observation as they moved down to the nurse's station. Dean had to slow his pace a bit, but it was easy to catch a nurse's eye. Dean flipped open a badge with a fluid flash as Cas fumbled with his own. At least he kept the ID right side up this time. The nurse after raking her eyes at the badges let her shoulders slump. She kept gloved hands at her sides. Deep circles under her eyes made Dean smile beneath the mask.

"Thank God you guys are here."

"No thanks needed."

"Believe me they are." She gestured for them to follow her. "We are so swamped, so we could use the extra pair of hands. I assume you guys are having this problem in…?"

"Detroit." Dean rasped.

His chapped lips didn't ease his esophagus. Jesus, his throat burned. Whenever he swallowed, the back of his teeth ached as they rubbed against the inside of his mouth. Dean was just glad he had his mask on. He could keep his jaw slack for a few minutes. Saliva pooled in his mouth and gave no relief as he began to hack. The nurse turned, making a soft croon. Her big brown eyes going as soft as her voice. Green scrubs a pleasant contrast to her dark skin.

"Wow, guess we're all in trouble. Even the CDC is getting sick too."

"We all have our off days." Dean croaked.

"I know sweetie. Just hang in there."

She walked them down a hall to an office tucked away on the right. The nurse opened the door for them.

"I'll let our staff know you're here."

"Thanks."

"Anytime. I don't think I need to tell you two to take it easy."

She gave him a brief scowl, but knowing. Her black curls flounced as shut the door behind her. Dean to Cas.

"Dude you gotta stall. My voice is about shot."

"Alright but hurry. I'll hold them off as long as I can."

"Gotcha. Clary's at the side door."

"Understood."

Dean opened the door and slipped out.

SPNTMI

The nurse strode down the hall, almost at the break room when she noticed that a room in the ICU that she could have sworn was unoccupied not just an hour ago. Now a man sat on the well-made bed. She peered into the unlit room, brushing locks of hair out of her face.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

Upon closer inspection, a non-descript middle aged white man with glasses. He smiled. His teeth shined in the dark. She faltered a step before continuing.

"Actually yes, I think you can."

"Ok. Are you injured or looking for a doctor?"

She moved to the man's side after turning on the light switch. He appeared unharmed, in casual business attire without a rumple or stain. Her training kicked in, but before she could act on it, he grabbed her hand. A spasm of cold traveled up from her hand and then a sharp bark of laughter. She turned to see a blond nurse in pink scrubs.

"Jenna?"

Jenna's eyes flashed a sudden pooling color of black. She gasped, yanking her arm but unable to move. Swallowing hard lumps in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, red oozing welts ran up her arms. A sudden and great wrenching in her stomach made her double over, like a hand had reached inside and pulled. Blood spilled out between her thighs as she pitched forward and vomited in a spray.

The man let go of her arm and she collapsed to the sound of Jenna's laughter. She thrashed for a few moments before going still. The man took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. He looked back up, sliding the sleek metal frames back on his face. Smiling up at the black eyed Jenna, he said:

"Please alert the staff. Our guests have arrived."

SPNTMI

Dean and Clary gaped at the monitors in the locked security room. Dean bunched his fist, lips pulled back. The nurse thrashed at the feet of the be-speckled man. Dean ripped the surgical mask off and threw it to the floor.

"Holy shit." Clary said.

"Come on." Dean said. "He's on the second floor."

Clary stared down at the monitor. "Cas is headed our way, but demons are chasing him."

Dean pulled out the demon killing knife and Clary her stele. They barreled out of the door. Demons raced to them with screams.

"Run!" Dean rasped.

One got too close, its fingers brushing the edges of his jacket. Dean swiped low with the knife and the ones who got too close had to back pedal. The thick tang of sulfur made her gag and she bent down. The demons surged forward again and Clary dropped down to her knees, making scribbling motions with her stele. A sigil burned where the rod touched the floor. The mark burned and cracks formed. Demons tried to get back. The ground shook for a second before the floor fell through in a perfect circle. Half the demons fell along with it.

Dean loaded his gun just in time to shoot a demon that leapt over the gap in the floor. The demon ailed back, arms flailing as it fell down the hole. Clary was still bent over, hand shaking to hold her stele. Dean scooted over, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You good?"

Clary retched, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. She pulled herself up with Dean's help as she grabbed his arm. The demons hung back on their side. Dean laughed. One demon stretched out a hand. Dean and Clary were flung into a wall, pressed hard as if a giant kept them there. A chorus of demon's laughter. Dean lifted his head, tendons in the neck raised. It was green against the rest of his skin. The demon pinning them, doubled over with laughter.

Teeth gleaming and visible. It straightened up, laugh still warbling out, and mouth gaping. The expression froze as the demon's black eyes went saucer wide, laughter cutting off with a shocked gurgle. It slumped sideways to reveal Cas standing behind it with a bloody angel blade. Dean and Clary, released from the hold, scrambled to their feet. Clary dived down for her stele and gripped it in her right hand. She handed Dean his gun from the ground. He gave her a bare nod, whirling to face Cas.

"Get here." His shout ending in a gasping coughing fit.

His face was suffused with red. Cas's eyes narrowed, turning a one-eighty. The red from his blade bright against the silver edge. It flashed like scales of a fish as it darted and curved. The hand that gripped it was as sure as the arms that arched to and fro. Tan trench coat whipping in the opposite direction. Demons had to leap back to avoid the blade and those behind Cas were quick to try and grab at him, but he wheeled away. Their fingers only brushed at his coat, nails missing by inches.

Cas cleared his side enough to take a running leap. He cleared the hole, arms flailing for the brief moment that he was suspended in the air. He landed heavily, staggering with arms wide. Cas's hands found Dean's jacket until the angel could right himself. Dean jerked his head at the set of stairs. The trio opened the exit door to the left, the sharp blast of cold air and Cas sneezed. The dark gray of the walls and stairs dulled the sound inside.

Dean jogged up a couple of steps and looked back. Cas was closer to him, swaying and panting. Clary leaning heavily onto the rails, taking slow and measured breaths. Dean cleared his throat and Clary looked up.

"Sorry…gimme a minute. I'll be fine in a minute."

Dean held up a hand, slowly moving it up and down. He went to Cas, who hadn't spoken. He put a hand on the angel's shoulder and Cas leaned in, murmuring. Dean frowned, bringing his hand to the other man's forehead.

"Burning up." He rasped.

"Mmmm' fine."

Cas disentangled himself from Dean. Clary took the stairs one step at a time, reaching them with a slight limp. Her head lolled a bit. She widened her eyes.

"Ok."

The three made it to the second floor. Before Dean could open it, the door was yanked open and a pair of blood spotted hands grabbed his jacket. His gun clattered down the stairs and out of sight. More nurses and doctors with black eyes surrounded them. Cas lunged, sluggishly, managing to scratch one demon. Its white lab coat tangled around its arms as it tried to pull back.

It tumbled back into the group. Demons crowded, pushing Cas's attacker back to him, sans coat as it kicked Cas. The angel's blow missed and the demon pinned him down. Angel blade clattering to the floor into a corner. Clary stumbled to him and another demon tugged her into a hold. Clary groaned, sagging into the body of a nurse. The nurse squeezed tight and Clary gave a hiss of pain.

"Enough." The demon leered.

Dean, who had narrowly avoided being body checked into a wall, froze into a crouch. Knife in hand, he slowly raised it up. He eyed the hall. A handful of demons, about ten. The doors were closed, but directions were plastered on the walls in small plaques. A rather larger one read, 'Laboratory #1' in white block letters.

At the end of the hall was a room with wide, visible glass walls. The inside filled with long desks and equipment that must have been heavy and expensive. Only a few items were recognizable to Dean. Microscopes and test tubes. What caught his attention was the man standing in the very center of the room. A middle aged man with glasses. His smile was a slow spread of the lips. He waved and the light caught a quick glimmer of motion. A ring was on his index finger. Dean pulled his gaze away and back to the demons. Dean gripped the knife handle tighter.

"How you wanna play this, meatsuit?" The demon holding Clary asked. "Hah, lemme guess, really hard and-painful."

Clary paled, throat convulsing. The movement made the demon loosen its grip and try to manhandle the girl. In that moment Clary did a clumsy pirouette, doubling over with an open mouth to vomit all over the demon holding her. Its eyes widened to comical proportions as it tried to stumble away from her. It was too slow to escape Clary's second heave and shrieked as bits of chunk hit cheeks and hair.

Its companions jeered as it tripped backwards. The crowd's formation wavered. Dean grinned and slid the knife to Cas, who caught it. He brought it up to meet the sternum of the demon before it had a chance to react. Cas rolled away from the body and tossing the knife back to Dean as he stood.

Dean pointed to the lab room and Cas shouted out. Clary dodged outstretched hands and kicks. The three stumbled away, demons screamed behind them. The halls were large enough that demons in twos and threes jogged abreast of them. Dean tossed the knife to Cas, who slashed at the neck at of a demon closing in. He threw it to Clary when one was about to overtake her. She lobbed it back to Dean. They rounded out at the corner, close enough to see the gleam of Pestilence's glasses. Only one demon remained.

Clary was slammed into a wall, bright spots splashed in her vision as her tailbone smacked hard into the corner, ass slamming hard enough to bounce. Sudden warmth spread across the seat of her pants and down her legs. She groaned as she crumpled into a heap on the floor. Clary wriggled back up, stele slippery in guck. She waved it, but it was kicked out of her hands.

"No more special snowflake bullshit."

The demon above her laughed. It brought down one puke splattered shoe, but before it could smash in her face, Dean threw the knife. Aim went true in the middle of the shoulder blades. The demon froze up as it lit up from the inside before careening into a wall and sliding down onto the grimy floor.

Pestilence didn't move. Dean stared at the window; there was nothing to break the glass with and the door was bolted, a metal piece that required a key card to open. Dean spit at the glass, a sticky, lumpy yellow smacked the clear pane. Clary pointed her stele, hand shaking. Cas spoke, voiced stuffed up almost beyond recognition.

"Come out and face us horseman."

Pestilence's shoulders shook, flashing his teeth. He inclined his head with his palms open and wide at his sides. Tapping a microscope on his way out, his grin morphed into a leer. He walked out of sight. The door beeped, lights on the automated bolt flashed green. Pestilence emerged, shutting the door behind him. Dean winced.

"Ah our valiant heroes, here to save the day."

Clary gasped, free hand trying to shield herself. Cas wheezed, in the grips of a fit as mucus poured from his nose. Dean shook, aching. The world spun and splotches of black fielding his vision. A sound came out of him, a deep moaning rattle that burned his insides and blood welted his lips. Tiles rose to meet him. His elbows braced him, shocks buzzing at the sudden move. He looked up to see Clary and Cas flank Pestilence. The thing was laughing.

Laughing as Clary and Cas tried to avoid his blows. His fists swung with ease and power. He aimed a kick at Clary's knees just as Cas leapt up, blade high above his head. Pestilence aimed sharp, sending Clary tumbling back. She clutched her knee. Pestilence spun around, catching Cas in the chest. Angel blade spinning high in the air and landing past Dean's head. He gritted his teeth and Clary retched as she tried to put weight on her knee.

Cas's gasp turned into a scream. The spots in Dean's vision got brighter. Standing up, he grabbed Ruby's knife and moved. Pestilence's fingers pressed against Cas's chest and the angel heaved out bright red blood. He choked, spasming against the horseman's hand. Cas's scuffed shoes dangled above the linoleum. He wheezed, eyes bulging. Bile clung to his mouth. Cas sagged against the hand. Pestilence tutted.

"Oh my, I see the tuberculosis has flared up. Must be a nice contrast to that Spanish influenza. Your fever's running nice and hot huh? Poor little angel."

Pestilence flung Cas right at the exact moment that the angel landed next to his blade and tossed it to Clary and Dean charged the horseman. He wrapped his puss ridden arms around the creature. Dean's skin sloughed off onto Pestilence's blue-green dress shirt, staining it a murky brown. Dean yelled as pain flared in his joints and groin.

"How's that leprosy treating you? Or the syphilis is that bothering you? Did you ever get that strep throat checked out?"

Ruby's knife skittered to the ground. Clary clambered up, snatching the knife by the handle. She rushed up, shrieking as she brought the knife to meet Pestilence's chest. He laughed and the vibration traveled up the knife to Clary's hand. She gasped as blood ran down her eyes and mucus from her nose. Slick bile mingled with sweat as something hard and hot was lumping on her skin. Dean pushed down Pestilence's arm. His ring gleamed like a festering bump on an otherwise immaculate hand. Clary screamed, ripping the noise out of her the same way she did with the knife, slicing it down the digits. The horseman howled as his fingers came tumbling down.

Dean pulled away, teeth bared as he tried not to slump to the ground. Pestilence grabbed his bloodied hand and cradled it to his chest. His smile curdled into a knash of teeth that resembled granite blocks that had been haphazardly filed down. Wide eyes.

"You're too late." He laughed. "Croatoan is already on its way. It's very potent. I hope you like it."

Pestilence's head bent down low, chin touching his chest as his eyes sunk deep into the sockets. The ears shriveled and lips pulled back to fuse above the gums. His glasses slid off the nose, lens cracking as they hit the ground. Hair thinned and disappeared. His hands and arms crossed over his chest as he slowly bent his knees and curled in on himself like a dead spider. Pestilence disappeared as if he never was; the only proof to the contrary was his ring lying in brackish goo. It hissed and sizzled until that too disappeared and left the ring clean and gleaming. Dean picked it up. He gasped, pain gone and passages clear.

Clary sucked in a lungful of air and Cas sniffed repeatedly.

"I can breathe." He muttered.

Dean frowned, staring at the ring in now unblemished hands. His arms were free of marks as well. He forced a grin.

"How do I look?"

Cary laughed. She pocketed her stele and handed Dean back the knife. He wiped the blade on his jeans. Clary watched, her nose wrinkled up despite the smile.

"Oh god, I wanna shower so bad."

"Yeah ok, you get dibs. Now let's get out of here."

A crash came from the first level and a sudden barrage of angry shouts.

"I agree." Cas said. "Adamantly."

SPNTMI

"Urghh, just wanna burn all our clothes." Clary said.

She had already dressed, towel still in hand. Her hair still damp and spiking out every which way.

"Nah, he's done with us. Moved on to bigger and better things."

"Like that Croatoan thing…?"

Clary handed Cas a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouth wash as Dean turned the ring over in his hand. Clary, who had been watching Cas open up the paste cap, turning back to Dean.

"Yeah. Not too sure what his endgame is, but I know what Croatoan is supposed to be."

"Lemme guess a disease that I really wish I didn't know about."

"Pretty much."

"So, I guess-Cas, put the paste on the brush then put it in your mouth-we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Dean's lips twitched. "Fair enough. Which is why we gotta get to Bobby's. He'll know what to do. "

Clary's voice went quiet. "You think the others will be there?"

Dean swallowed. "I hope so."

Dean packed his duffle. The water in the bathroom sink stopped. Dean and Cas passed each other at the bathroom.

"Any clean towels left?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, so how bout' a couple of hours dirt nap before we hit the road?"

Cas and Clary nodded in assent and Dean shut the door.

SPNTMI

TBC…