A/N – So, honestly I was worried about the drug overdose but I shoulda known that SPN fans will take whatever angst and mystery they can get! Lol Thanks heaps for the reviews and the encouragement so far, it's been really great!!! And everything in this story has a purpose…

Disclaimer: As usual, not mine… not feeling particularly witty, so that's it. Saving my energy for the story ahead…

Chapter Three

Once Upon A Rude Awakening

Dean watched his little brother sleeping restlessly for a whole night and a good part of the morning, wishing he could do something to make him feel better. The doctors checked on him, sedated him once more before John put his foot down and said he wouldn't allow anymore sedation until Sam woke up and he could be sure it was necessary. The nurses were keeping a close eye on his blood pressure and temperature, coming and going every ten minutes. Yet no one had told them anything else, they hadn't explained anything more, had just remained quiet. Dean felt like they were hiding something, but he wasn't sure what it was…

Finally, Doctor Hargitay walked into the room with a grim look on his face.

"Mr Winchester, I'd like to speak to you outside if I may?" he requested, glancing at Dean briefly.

"No, but you can talk to me here," John told him. "We have no secrets in this family."

Hargitay hesitated.

"Sir, considering you weren't aware your fourteen year old son was taking drugs, I'm not sure that's quite true," Hargitay told him. Dean could see anger reddening his father's eyes and wondered what kind of death wish this doctor had, but he remained quiet. "I need to discuss with you the bruises on your son's back… do you know anything about that?"

John tensed.

"Bruises?" John asked, not really stating a question rather questioning the doctors unspoken suggestion. "What are you trying to say?"

Sam shifted in bed, moaning quietly.

"It looks like he's sustained a… well, a beating if I must be honest," Hargitay told him. "Now, normally I would have to report this already, but given the situation I figured it was better to wait until the patient was stable and see what we can find out. I have to say, it looks like there's some kind of abuse in your home sir… whether you realise it or not."

Hargitay was looking at Dean again. Dean's eyes widened as he realised what the doctor was suggesting. Not only was John a suspect, but Dean was too! And he seemed to be number one on the doctor's list!

"What the hell…"

"Dean," John interrupted, shooting Dean a look that was clearly an order to sit down and shut up. "My son would never hurt his brother, and neither would I… I don't appreciate you coming in here and…"

"My fault," Sam murmured, catching everyone's attention. "It was my fault…"

"Sssh, Sammy," Dean hushed, brushing the hair out of Sam's eyes gently. "You don't have to talk…"

"I fell, I was being stupid and I fell," Sam continued, his eyes not quite focussed as he searched out the person attached to the accusing voice that had woken him. "I landed on a log… or something… it's my fault."

Hargitay nodded, clearly not happy with the answer but willing to accept that whatever stupidity the drugged up fourteen year old boy he saw before him it had, indeed, been his fault.

Hargitay checked Sam's blood pressure and other vitals before looking up at John.

"He's okay," he assured them. "Not out of the woods yet, we have to monitor him for a little while longer and then the drugs still have to work their way out of his system, but it looks like he dodged a bullet here."

"Dean?" Sam whispered, looking for his brother. Dean saw as he tried to reach his hand out to his brother only to discover that he couldn't move. Panic in his eyes, Sam struggled frantically against the bonds that held him to the bed, gasping for breath.

Hargitay pulled over a tray and got a syringe.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to sedate him again," he announced as Sam's panic rose and his movements became more frantic.

Dean pushed passed the doctor and grabbed his brother's hand, resting the other one on Sam's forehead again.

"Sam?" Dean spoked firmly but gently. "Can you hear me? I'm right here, can you feel my hand? I'm holding your hand right now, but I need you to calm down, okay? Everything's going to be okay…"

"Please step aside," Hargitay requested.

"He's not violent," John snapped as Dean continued to sooth his brother. Sam was slowly beginning to relax but the panic remained in his eyes. "He's just scared, that's all… he's in restraints, for crying out loud! He's only a kid, what do you expect?"

Hargitay hesitated.

"I can't force treatment on your son, Mr Winchester, but I can tell you what is best for him and I believe that right now it might be better for him to be sedated. Given the fact that he'll go into withdrawals soon anyway, it might be better…"

"No," John growled. "My son is staying with us, and that means conscious and everything… we're here with him, and that's all he needs… no more drugs, understand me?"

Hargitay nodded and left the room.

"Call me if you change your mind," he tossed over his shoulder.

Once the doctor was gone, John took hold of Sam's other hand and squeezed it gently.

"How you doing, kiddo?" he asked, smiling down at Sam.

Sam's eyes shifted to his father as tears welled up in them.

"What's going on?" Sam asked tearfully. "Why am I here?"

"You don't remember what happened?" John asked. Sam shook his head. "Do you remember talking to me on the phone? Or getting into a fight after class?"

"No," Sam admitted, swallowing hard.

Dean sighed.

"It's okay, Sam," he assured his little brother. "We don't know exactly what happened, but we're going to figure it out, okay? Did you do anything unusual yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Sam asked.

"It's Wednesday, Sam…"

John glanced at Dean.

"No, it's Tuesday," he corrected. Dean was confused again. How did he lose another day? What happened? "You went to school yesterday and you had gym… did anything happen?"

"Sam, they think you took speed," Dean explained carefully, not wanting to upset his brother. "Did you?"

Sam shook his head, clearly trying to remember.

"No! Nothing happened! I broke the record in track," he answered softly, tugging again at his restraints. "I don't like this, Dad, please make them take it off!"

John sighed and glanced at Dean. Dean immediately grabbed onto the restraints on his side of the bed and removed them, from both his arm and leg as his father followed his example. The minute the restraints were off, Sam launched himself at his brother and held on tight.

"I didn't take anything, Dean, I promise!" Sam said, his voice muffled into Dean's shirt. Dean wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged him back before pressing him back against his pillows to rest. "I wouldn't do that, I would never take drugs!"

Dean nodded.

"I know you wouldn't, little brother," Dean assured him. "There's only one other thing I can think of… someone gave them to you without you knowing it."

"Or the demon," John added.

"Dad, no," Dean assured him. "It makes no sense. This is just a coincidence. I just have a headache and someone drugged Sam, they're not related."

"Since when do you believe in coincidences?" John asked.

Sam had been silent longer than Dean had realised and when he turned to check on him he saw a serious look on his face… serious and angry.

"Sammy?"

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He couldn't have, Sam thought. Why would he do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?

Sam considered the day as much as he remembered and there was only one thing that struck him as unusual. He had thought it was nice at the time, but the more he considered it the more he realised he'd felt strange afterwards… dry mouth, slight headache… things just weren't right…

Sam hated that someone would do this to him, he was angry beyond anything he'd ever felt before. He was fourteen! He had never had a drink, never had a cigarette and had always refused to take drugs! He tried to avoid pain killers if he could, he didn't want anything compromising his ability to fight and to control himself, he didn't want to risk dependency to anything and he didn't want a reputation for taking drugs! He had always been a good kid, and top student and he wanted to stay that way… but this bastard had taken that away from him and it would end up on his record. Everywhere he went they'd think he did drugs!

"Sammy?" Dean tried again, getting Sam's attention this time. "You know something?"

"Maybe," Sam told him, reaching a hand up to rub his eyes. His hand was shaking, he realised. Great, bet that has something to do with all this too. He felt himself growing really angry and tried to swallow it. He wasn't going to let anything else take control of his body, he would fight every symptom the drug tried to force upon him no matter what! "There was a kid… Brooster… he gave me a bottle of water."

"You drank it?" John asked.

"Well, I didn't know it was drugged," Sam snapped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes a moment. "Sorry… I just meant that, well, we're on the same team so I didn't think anything of it. I figured he was just being nice or something."

"Brooster," Dean muttered, his eyes flashing.

"It was just after that that I remember feeling a bit strange but…" Sam trailed off.

"But what?" Dean prompted. "Sam?"

"I don't really remember anything else," Sam sighed. "I don't remember fighting anyone, I don't remember calling dad… I just… I remember feeling strange and then I woke up and it's Wednesday."

"Tuesday," John corrected again, frowning.

"Whatever day it is, it isn't the same damn day that I woke up last," Sam snapped at his father. He clenched his teeth together, reminding himself to be calm and relax, he didn't want to upset his father, he didn't want to do anything to upset anyone. He'd been enough of a burden already, he didn't want to hurt his father or Dean anymore. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, Sam," John assured him. "I understand."

"You understand?" Sam asked, glancing at his father. "You ever have this done to you?"

"Well, no…"

"Then how would you know what you're talking about?" Sam rolled over, closing his eyes and burying his face in his pillow. "This is stupid, it's all my fault!"

"Sam, no!" John disagreed. "You didn't take the drugs willingly, none of this is your fault… you just need to fight it and we're going to be here every step of the way, okay?"

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Dean saw the tell-tale signs of withdrawal already beginning to assault his brother's body and it felt like it was going to crush his chest. Sam was agitated, his hands were shaking… Dean knew it would get worse and he wished his father had let the doctor sedate him to get through it. He knew Sam was strong enough to fight his way through, but Dean didn't think he should have to! That punk Brooster should be the one to do that, not Sam…

This was going to be a long night…

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Five days later

Sam had been home two days now, and he was slowly beginning to look more like himself. He had been released from the hospital before the doctor had wanted, but John had argued that Sam would recover quicker at home since he was no longer in any danger of heart attacks or anything else. His blood pressure and heart rate were normal, his temperature was normal and the worst of the symptoms had eased off. Doctor Thomas had arrange the discharge and given them some literature about drug rehabilitation that went straight in the bin at the hospital and Dean had ridden in the back with Sam on their way back to the motel.

The minute they walked in the door, Sam had hit the research again. He was up late most nights, unable to sleep and instead concentrated on finding out as much about the demon as he could until he fell asleep. Dean knew that the lack of sleep was part of the withdrawal, but on the fifth night he realised there was more to it than that. The withdrawal was past, for the most part, this was purely Sam…

"You okay?" he asked his brother gently.

Sam merely nodded but didn't say anything. He hadn't spoken much since being released from hospital, he had tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye – especially Dean. Dean didn't know what he had done to make Sam want to avoid him above everyone else, but he didn't want to push him if he wasn't ready. Still, it hurt Dean that Sam didn't talk to him or look at him, and it had been days. Ever since waking up in the hospital and clinging to him as he pleaded with Dean to believe that he hadn't taken drugs… and since that day he would barely look at him. He refused to be away from Dean, not that Sam had made a point of saying it but it hadn't gone under Dean's radar that he stayed close by. That didn't bother Dean, he wasn't ready to let Sam disappear from view either. He was worried about Sam returning to school, but there was a meeting lined up for the following day to speak with the headmaster, and Dean intended to be there for it… the kid Sam said had given him the water would be there, and Dean had something up his sleeve.

No one messes with my little brother and gets away with it, Dean thought.

"I'm fine," Sam muttered, not looking up from the book he was going over.

"You tired? Maybe you should get some rest," Dean suggested, squatting beside Sam's chair.

"No, I'm fine…"

"You've barely slept since you got home, Sam," Dean told him. "You need to get some rest, you've been through a lot, it's a big strain on your body when you go through withdrawal and stuff."

Sam leaned closer to his book and wrote quicker, the only thing he could do to indicate he wasn't listening. Dean wasn't down, however, he was worried about Sam and he was going to get him to get some rest.

"Sam, take a break, you've been going almost non-stop!"

"Dean, leave me alone!" Sam snapped, glancing in Dean's direction while still managing to avoid actual eye contact. "I don't want to talk, I'm not tired, and I have a lot of work to do… okay?"

Dean got to his feet and sighed. It wasn't okay, not by a long shot, but he would let it drop. Eventually, though, they were going to have to talk about this stuff. Sam had forgotten that, for everything he'd been through, Dean and their father had been there too and they didn't deserve to take the brunt of he fallout. They would bare it as much as he needed them to, but eventually he was going to have to forgive them for whatever he felt they had done… or at least explain it to them, because thinking about it was giving Dean a headache.

And he'd been having enough headaches without Sam adding to them.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

John and Joshua were sitting on the porch with a couple of beers and going over what John knew of the hunt so far, what little information the boys had gathered on their failed attempt at taking the thing out, and what Joshua had found in the passed few days while Sam was in hospital. Sam had spoken to John once voluntarily when he asked his father to promise not to tell Joshua anything about why he was in hospital, but it had been too late for John to make that promise and the look of pain in Sam's eyes had left him wounded. Whatever Sam's reasons, he didn't want Joshua to know what had happened and now he was left unable to face the man. He hadn't looked at or spoken to Joshua once, and John knew that Joshua was confused and hurt because of it.

"So, any idea where we go next?" Joshua was asking John. He snapped back to the present and tried to refocus on the conversation, but he'd missed the comments before so he sighed and decided to just go from what he knew.

"Sorry, I'm a bit distracted," John admitted, sighing deeply. "All I know is that Sam was trying to tell me something before all this started and now he wont talk to me… he mumbles at me when I ask him if he's okay, and he knows we're not hunting this thing again just yet, but…"

John shook his head and took a long swig of beer.

"But what?" Joshua prompted gently.

"I don't know if we can hunt this thing if we can't pull Sam out of whatever it is that's bothering him," John told him. "I can't leave him here, but he's still researching and that means he's eventually going to have to talk to us… and if he's going to stay shutdown like this then I really can't go on the hunt and I can't take him with us… he's not up to it, he's not ready."

"He'll be fine," a voice approached them from the now-open doorway. John looked up to see Dean standing with the light behind him, and an unhappy look on his face. He stepped out on the porch and pulled the door shut, grabbing a beer before settling on another seat. "I'll get through to him, Dad, don't worry."

"I don't know, Dean, I've seen him upset before but this is different… I've never seen him like this…" John shook his head. "I don't even know where to begin with something like this. I never worried about drugs with either of you boys, and even if I had I wouldn't have been able to see this coming a mile off!"

"Maybe you should have worried about drugs a little more," Dean muttered. He drank deeply from his beer before swallowing hard and fiddling with the label on the bottle. "Sam is going to be fine, he's going to be Sam again and everything will be back to normal… I will figure this out."

"I know you will," John lied. He hoped it was the truth, but right now everything in him was screaming in fear that they had lost their Sam even though the doctors had saved him. None of this was fair. "Any idea what he's dug up?"

Dean shook his head and John knew he was clueless.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Sam could hear the others talking outside as he stood by the partially opened window. He knew his father had lost faith in him, blamed him for what had happened… and Dean wasn't disagreeing, which hurt just as much. Joshua hadn't said anything about it, but it was clear to Sam that he held Sam responsible for not finishing the hunt already… and Sam had seen the front page of the paper earlier that morning. Two more people had been killed, and it was Sam's fault… if he hadn't gotten himself sick like that, the hunt would be over, the thing would be dead, and those two people would be alive.

A drug overdose for most people only hurt the person taking the drugs and the people left to love them… Sam's overdose was costing more people their lives than seemed fair.

His family should be out there hunting the thing and putting a stop to its killing spree… Sam had to figure out what it was, and fast!

As Sam faced his desk again, however, something he had read fell into place…

"Oh my God!" Sam muttered, stumbling back to the book lying open on the desk and flipping through a few more pages. He found the passage he was after and paled as he read it. He'd figured it out, he knew what they were facing… and it was worse than he realised. He stumbled backwards as if the creature was going to leap out at him from the page and knocked his chair over. The door swung open behind him and he turned to face the concerned faces of his father, brother and Joshua.

"Sam?" John gasped, seeing Sam's pale face. "You okay?"

For the first time in days, Sam looked his father in the eye.

"I think we have a problem," he announced. He sat down on the nearest bed and took a deep breath. He still avoided looking at Dean and Joshua, but his father was the leader of the hunt and he made himself look at him – and made himself ignore what he saw there. "This creature is a time of Distortion Demon… I'm not sure which one it is, but they all have three things in common… one, they're afraid of fire, it repels them but only for a while and they come back stronger… two, they're all mean, fast and shadow-like, making them nearly impossible to fight…"

"And three?" John asked, patiently.

"They're all controlled by humans," Sam told him, trailing off to allow his words to sink in. All these deaths, every one of them, though supernatural in nature originated from the evil underbelly of mankind. Hunts were always more complicated when people were involved, and it always raised other issues. Why were these people killing? Why use this demon to do it? And what the hell were they going to do when they found them?

"Shit," Dean breathed, looking up at his father. "Dad?"

John shook his head.

"It doesn't change anything," he insisted. He turned to Sam. "Anything in those books of yours to say how to kill them?"

Sam shook his head.

"Not without knowing which one it is," he answered. "And they're virtually indistinguishable… they all kill differently, but… I don't know, there's just nothing I've seen or heard that'll tell us enough to figure that out."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The following morning, Joshua stayed behind to continue the research, hunting through newspapers and books trying to find anything that would tell them what Distortion Demon they were dealing with. John, Dean and Sam went to Sam's school to meet with the headmaster and Brooster about what had happened. Dean could see that Sam was nervous, but he didn't press the issue. He'd learned recently that Sam shutdown more than ever if you pressed him too hard and he really didn't want to talk. A quiet Sam wasn't good, though. Sam had always been willing to talk about things, and when Sam was suppressing something Dean knew it meant it was worse than he realised.

And Sam still wasn't talking to him much, so Dean knew that whatever he'd done to upset him, Sam was still really pissed.

They arrived right on time, as the first classes of the day started. They were let into the headmasters office immediately, being told that Brooster and his father were already inside waiting for them. John set his shoulders, ready for anything and Dean stood directly behind Sam prepared to offer him whatever support he could to make the meeting easier.

Sam told what little he knew of the situation, what little he remembered, and Brooster told of a viscous and seemingly unprovoked attack after gym class that made John turn so red he was almost purple. After that the headmaster asked the boys to leave while the adults discussed what should be done… and John nodded to Dean to follow Sam. Dean had every intention of following him anyway, he wasn't letting him out of his sight with that little shit around, no way!

Dean held back, however, letting Sam and Brooster get a head start. He watched as Brooster said something to Sam and Sam tried to ignore him. He started to walk away, but Brooster wasn't going to allow him that freedom and started following him again. Sam looked worried and Dean wondered what it was that was actually bothering him, since they all knew that Sam could take him down in a heartbeat… and that's when Dean realised that that's what was worrying him! Although Sam didn't remember doing it, he had taken his training and used it to hurt another person, someone who wasn't a demon – and asshole, sure, but a demon… no. Sam, the gentlest person Dean had ever known, was killing himself over the thought of hurting another person.

Dean kicked himself… he should have known. This whole thing had thrown him so much that he had missed what should have been completely obvious… and another sudden realisation washed over him.

Sam wasn't mad at Dean, he was ashamed of himself!

Dean reached into his pack that carried a few simple things… books for Sam in case he decided to stay at school, some food for him too, and a bottle of water specially prepared.

"You okay there, Sam?" Dean called, quickening his step toward his little brother.

Sam halted and nodded his head, refusing to look at Dean.

"This little shit giving you a hard time?" Dean prompted, glaring at Brooster… whose real name, he had discovered at the meeting, was Clarence. "You know you can deal with a pissant like him in a heartbeat…"

Sam gaped at him.

"You can't talk to me like that!" Brooster told him angrily.

"I'm not talking to you, Clarence," Dean told him. "I'm conversing with my brother… you don't like what we're talking about, you don't have to listen!"

Dean unscrewed the cap of the bottle and raised it to his lips, pausing before he took a sip.

"Oh, sorry, that's so rude!" Dean told Brooster, stepping toward him. "You know, my mom did raise me better than that… here, want a drink?"

Brooster backed up quickly, shaking his head.

"You sure?" Dean asked, holding the drink out. "I know you'll like it, it's the same sorta thing you gave to my brother… makes you feel like superman!"

Brooster was pressed against the wall now, holding his head as far away from the bottle as he could.

"Come on, Clarence… you're, what? Fifteen? Be a man and take a swig!" Dean told him, shoving the bottle so far into the boys mouth that it nearly went up his nose. Brooster choked on the water before Dean finally let him go, allowing the water to spill down the boys front. He screwed the cap on and tossed him the bottle, watching as the bully began to splutter and gag. "What's the matter? Too salty?"

"You tried to kill me!" Brooster whined pathetically, letting the bottle fall to the ground.

"No, kid, that's what you tried to do to my brother," Dean told him, his voice low and dangerous. "You ever go near him again and I can't guarantee that it'll be salt water next time…"

"HEY!" a voice called out, catching Dean's attention. He looked up to see an older boy about his own age racing toward them. "What are you doing to Clarrie?"

Dean laughed.

"Clarrie?" he scoffed. "You mean the little bastard that nearly got my brother killed?"

"Whatever, man, you leave him alone! He didn't do nothin' wrong!"

"So you think that lacing water with Crystal Meth is okay? That it wouldn't have mattered if Sam had had a heart attack?" Dean snapped, stepping closer to the man before him. He must be the captain of the football team, Dean thought. He was certainly built like it… but he didn't know who he was taking on.

"My brother isn't the one busted for drugs, man, you're just pissed coz you're little shit for brains brother od'd and now he's trying to blame Clarrie for it!"

"Yeah, Jonesy, that's what happened!" Brooster agreed, his voice his and whiny. "He made me drink salt water, too!"

"Shut up, Clarrie," Jonesy warned him. "You owe my brother an apology."

"Oh, eat me," Dean spat, sick of this whole family. "My brother has never and will never touch drugs, but you're brother's enough of a dumb ass to have done this all by himself… I can tell that he's not from the lowest end of your particular gene pool…"

Jonesy took a swing at Dean's face but Dean ducked, grabbed his arm and twisted behind the football stars back, ramming him against the wall so hard he let out a pained puff of air.

"You or your little weasel of a brother EVER come near Sam again, and I'm going to have a lot more to say," Dean warned. "You watch that little shit, Jonesy… my brother's a good kid, he'd never hurt a soul and he'd never touch drugs… that was all Clarrie's fault, and if he ever tries it again…"

Dean trailed off, letting the silence become the warning, and let go of Jonesy. The older boy grabbed his little brother and they scurried off to find their father. Dean turned to Sam to see him gazing at him with wide eyes filled with fear and confusion.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked him, rubbing his temple as another headache threatened to take over.

Sam nodded.

"You wanna come home?" Dean continued.

Sam nodded.

Dean led Sam in the direction of the Impala, thinking of nothing more than a desperate need for more aspirin and hoping that he'd remembered to pick some up earlier in the day.

"Dean?" Sam piped up, looking up at his brother – but only just since his latest growth spurt had left him almost as tall as Dean.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," Sam smiled, before ducking his head and eyes away again.

Dean grinned. It hadn't been much, but it had been a start… maybe Sam would realise he'd done nothing wrong and maybe seeing Brooster getting a taste of his own medicine would make him feel a bit better about things… and if nothing else, Dean had see his brother's eyes and heard his voice for the first time in almost a week.

It had been well worth it.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N – Don't worry, I haven't forgotten that John's in the office with the headmaster!