Elements of doubt

Chapter 4: The road to recovery

Something's trying to kill more than just Deans' love life.

Chapter 4: Sam tries to protect his brother as things continue to spiral out of control.

Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to write me a review. Sorry I haven't had a chance to write back yet, things have just been a little hectic lately. Which is part of the reason this story is taking a little while to develop, so please bare with me the plot will resume shortly.

Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions that would be great to.

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"Get him on the floor" Ordered Mac running towards them with a hosepipe in hand. As soon as Sam hit the ground, he began to spray the tepid water over Deans convulsing form, not caring that he was soaking Sam in the process. "Just protect his airway, O.K."

Sam just nodded, shifting Dean in his lap so he could breathe more easily. For once he didn't mind taking orders from a stranger, his mind had gone blank.

Mac shook his head hard trying to regain his focus. Heat exhaustion was a common occurrence in his line of work but he knew that this had gone well beyond sending the sufferer to sit outside with a large glass of re-hydration salts. This kid had stopped sweating and was now in the middle of a full on fit. How the hell had this happened? The boy Sam was clearly just as shocked as he was at finding his friend in this state.

Grabbing a pair of shears from one of the benches, he tossed them to the kid. "Get him stripped off. I'll be back in a minute."

Sam caught the shears and stared at them stupidly for a moment before his brain kicked back into gear and he shifted out from underneath his brother now still form. He could still feel the heat radiating off Dean despite his now drenched state, they needed to do something else to get him cooled down.

Dean's clothes were welded to his body, even being drenched with water hadn't really helped. Dean's clothes were too badly baked on. Mac was right the only way to get them off was to cut them off. Reaching for his brother's biker boots Sam was horrified to find that the soles were distorted, his hands shook as he pulled them off. Dean's feet were badly swollen and Sam had to cut the elastic tops of his socks before he could peel them off.

Using the shears to cut up the front of his jeans and T-shirt, he lifted his unconscious brother out of his now shredded clothes and laid him on the cold concrete floor, wearing nothing put his boxers.

Rocking back on his heels, he could practically hear his brothers pissed off comments at this undignified treatment. Dude I'm seriously starting to worry about you. What is it with you trying to get me naked? Dean's voice sounded so real in his head, he found himself answering. "You're not naked Dean! You were not naked. The only one obsessed with this is you."

"Excuse me?" Asked Mac sounding more than a little confused,

Sam hadn't noticed him coming back and blushed slightly at his outburst being overheard. "Sorry, I just…"

Mac just gave him a sympathetic smile as he began to apply the icepack he had brought over to Deans overheated body. Sam's eyes almost popped out of his head as Mac placed two of the icepacks over the femoral arteries at either side of his brother's groin. It wasn't that what the man had done was medically wrong or that the man seemed to have any ulterior motive for doing so; it was just that he'd have sworn that if any guy ever tried to get that personal with his brother he would have risen out of his grave to punch them.

Sam remembered one time in Belford, Illinois when Dean had come to swinging when a Doctor had tried to insert a femoral line. The only reason his brother had got away with it was because no one could believe a man with that much blood loss could actually hit hard enough to break a man's jaw, but this time he didn't even flinch and that scared the shit out of Sam.

Fortunately Mac didn't seem to have registered his odd reaction and having placed addition icepacks under the older Winchesters arms and at the back of his knees was in the process of taking Deans temperature.

"I take it this happens fairly often around here?" Asked Sam; wanting to fill the silence. He couldn't take his eyes off Dean; it was as if he did he would be somehow giving his brother permission to die.

"People getting locked in the kilns? No. I can safely say that's a first." The man snorted but then his face softened, understanding Sam's need to talk. "We get a couple of cases of heatstroke a year though, usually apprentices too dumb to know when to take a break." He looked Sam straight in the eye. "It's unpleasant but they get over it and none of them have ever done it twice."

The digital thermometer Mac was holding in Dean's ear beeped and he pulled it out. Sighing in relief when it saw the reading he held it up for Sam to see, 105.8.

"Well that's not as bad as I thought it would be." He grinned as he got to his feet. "I need to go up to the office to call an ambulance, the reception here is awful but I should only be gone a..."

Sam cut him off. "No!"

Mac gave him a funny look obviously brought up short by Sam's reaction.

"He gets panic attacks around hospitals, real bad ones. I just don't know if he could take one right now." He explained his voice pleading, as he mentally apologized to his brother for assigning him girly characteristic.

Mac gave him an assessing look, clearly torn. "I'll make you a deal. I was going to call Doc Shaw as well anyway, as he's a lot closer than the hospital. If he says it's alright we'll keep him out of the hospital, if not he goes. OK?"

Sam nodded his agreement, willing to do just about anything to keep his brother safe and under the police's radar.

"Fine, then. Just keep an eye on his temperature and remove the icepacks if it gets below 101. We don't want him getting too cold." Mac was clearly not happy but he was going to play ball, for now at least.

Sam watched Mac head out and unconsciously slipped his hand into Deans, even though he knew it was more for his own comfort than his brothers. He could feel his brother's body tremble under his touch almost as if the was shivering. "It's O.K bro. Nothing we can't handle." He whispered to the still silent Dean.

It took Mac just under five minutes to come back, this time accompanied by two men in overalls carrying a light weight stretcher. Dean's temperature hadn't dropped.

Squatting down next to Sam he spoke. "We're going to take him over to Doc Shaw's. It's just down the road and he keeps a room ready for minor emergencies, he'll meet us there."

Sam swallowed hard, trying to get his emotions under control. He was beginning to understand why his brother, hated being sidelined so much. Sometime it was the hardest thing in the world to stand back and watch others do what should have been your job. "What do you want me to do?"

Mac smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. "Just grab the icepacks and let these boys do their job."

Sam did as he was told and stepped out of the way.

"Boys?" joked the older of the two men as he set to work. "Son, I was here when your Granddaddy ran this place and you were running around knee high to a grasshopper. As I remember I had to take you over my knee a time or two for trying to pull a stunt likely to land you in a whole lot more trouble than this lad, here."

They lifted Dean with an easy competence and placed him on the stretcher, covering him with a single sheet before they headed towards the door.

"Don't worry Son, this ain't our first barbeque" Smiled the younger, although that wasn't saying much. "Sides El Capitano over there makes us practice for this kind of shit." The man grinned at Mac and said in mock deference. "Sorry boss, I mean stuff."

Mac just rolled his eyes at this little cabaret act, while Sam managed a faint smile understanding this was mostly for his benefit. Neither of the men were doing a good job of hiding their obvious affection for their 'young' boss.

Sam ducked to one side as they headed towards the door, he needed to gather Dean's stuff, it wouldn't do to leave any clues to their real identities. Gritting his teeth he headed back into the rapidly cooling kiln to get the clothes Dean had shed previously to add to the pile of shredded clothes he already carried.

Task completed he ran after the others.

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Sam sat at the side of Dean's bed trying to get a grip on the previous hour's events. It had been a short ride in the back of the companies van to the Doctors house and Sam had to admit the man seemed to be both competent and well equipped. He had wasted no time in getting Dean situated and starting an I.V, his manner brisk and efficient as he went through his initial assessment. Sam had stood in the corner watching him with Mac at his side listening to the Doctors monologue, letting Mac answer the occasional questions. He could remember every word they had said.

"What temperature did you say the kiln got up to, Mac?"

"The gauge read 111 but he'd managed to shoot out the observation window so it was probably a little lower where he was standing. His initial temperature was 105.8 but we had already started to cool him down by then" Answered Mac.

The doctor seemed to consider this for a moment but never looked up from his work as he spoke. "You wouldn't have been able to bring his temperate down more than a degree in such a short time period, so I'm guessing his internal temperature was a little above 106. If it had been any higher there would be no way he would still be on his feet and it's more than high enough to explain the fit." Then he had looked up and fixed them both with a steady gaze. "It's not good but it could be worse. I take it that the temperature increase he experienced was slow?"

"Yes, the kiln would have taken about an hour to reach that temperature." Mac had paled slightly when he had said that, clearly not liking any of them implications behind that statement, but then neither did Sam.

The doctor looked up giving Mac a sympathetic look, before turning to Sam who in stark contrast to his brother was standing soaked and shivering in the corner.

"Mac why don't you take Sam here back to the motel, so he can get a change of clothes"

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The sound of Dean's restless shifting drew Sam back to the present. "Its OK buddy your safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt." He promised, shifting a hand through his brother's close cropped hair trying to get him to settle.

It had been about three hours since they had found Dean and he had yet to regain conciseness, but that didn't mean he was resting peacefully. The muscle spasms that had been plaguing him earlier were back making his body shiver uncontrollably and Sam could see his brother's eyes moving under his closed lid. Wherever it was that Dean's feverish mind was taking him, it couldn't be pleasant.

The Doctor warned him that Dean was unlikely to be coherent for a while yet, but he had assured Sam that like the shivering and heat rash, it would right itself as his brothers temperature began to come under control.

Sam leaned forward as some of his brothers fevered mumblings started to make sense.

"It's O'Kay Sammy. Daddy will get Mommy." Dean's voice sounded small and childlike as he whispered his quite litany to himself over and over again, and now at last Sam recognized it for what it was. A child's terrified prayer for rescue as he had stood watching his house burn with both his parents still inside.

Sam didn't know what to say. How could he reassure his brother that everything was going to be alright when it hadn't been? Mommy had never come back and Dean's life had changed forever.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat he did the best he could. "Ssshhhh" He soothed, continuing to run his hand over the top of his brothers still overly warm head. "Daddy will be here soon. You did good, You saved Sammy remember."

Dean began to struggle his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "No, Can't be ill. Have to look after Sammy." His words were slurred and barely recognizable but Sam understood them all too well and they hurt him even more than the idea that Dean had been reliving the fire that had killed their mother. 'Look after Sammy.' had been John Winchesters final command to Dean before leaving on a hunt for as long as Sam could remember and as a child Sam it had never occurred to Sam to think there was anything wrong with that.

It didn't seem odd to him that his brother had to pull a chair up to the stove in order to cook them dinner or that whenever he woke up during the night when their father was away his brother would already be awake ready to keep the monsters at bay. His brother was invincible and could do anything. It had never occurred to him that Dean was a child too and might need somebody to look after him as well. Why did you do that to him Dad? He was only a child. He wondered silently, even as he moved to comfort his brother as best he could.

"It's Okay Dean. Sammy's safe. You did a good job Dean. Dad's real proud of you." He reassured his brother until Dean finally settled back into something resembling restful sleep and Sam's mind once more began to wander.

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Sam hadn't wanted to go but as Mac had pointed out he wasn't going to help Dean if he fell flat on his face and besides which he was pretty sure 'James' would want some clothes when he woke up. It was the Doctor who had cast the deciding vote in the decision though, when he practically threw them out so he could 'get some peace to deal with his patient' although he did soften the deed somewhat by promising to be ready to give him a full report by the time they came back, so Sam had gone with Mac on the proviso that they only be 20 minute, although in the end it had only taken them 15.

Dr. Shaw must have been working steadily the entire time they were away because by the time they got back. Dean had been cleaned up and was lying in bed under a single sheet, his skin was an angry red color against the stark white of the sheet and the trembling in his brother's muscles that Sam had noticed earlier had developed into sporadic twitching. All in all it scared the hell out of Sam. An oxygen mask had been placed over Dean's face, which had initially concerned Sam but the Doctor had quickly explained that it was simply to provide humidified oxygen to help Deans parched lunges heal.

The Doctors report when it came was professional and succinct but not without compassion. "He's quite badly dehydrated and we're going to have to monitor his temperature closely for the next couple of day's as his body isn't going able to regulate it itself properly for at least that long but his temperature is now down to 102.8 so I'm quite optimistic he should recover well, although I'll be happier when he wakes. As for his other injuries, the slice on his arm should heal nicely and didn't require stitches. I've re-cleaned and dressed the wound to his shoulder, which I don't want to know about by the way, and it should also heal well, but it is his hands that have me a little worried. The pads of the hand have been badly scrapped and burned." The Doctor didn't have to explain how Dean had got these injuries; Sam could easily imagine his brother stoically ignoring the pain in order to continue searching for a way out. He must have been terrified. Sam knew how much fires scared him and why. It had made him feel sick to think he had been sitting down to milk and cookies while Dean had been being cooked alive. "They should heal well but the area involved and the type of injury is going to put him at risk of infection, so we'll have to monitor that as well." The Doctor gave Sam a steady look and a slight smile. "Sam honestly it isn't as bad as it looks. Like I said before I can't be entirely certain until he wakes up, but his temperature is dropping nicely, so I think his chances of making a full recovery are very good."

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The alarm on his phone going off startled Sam out of his reverie and nearly made him fall out of his chair, turning off the alarm he reached for the thermometer. Dr. Shaw had left strict instructions on how to monitor Dean's vitals before heading out to check on another patient. He had even told Sam that if he found out that Sam was aggravating his patient by constantly checking his temperature or prodding him to see if he would wake up he would sedate Sam and leave him to sleep it off in the back yard. Sam of course had scoffed at the very idea that he would do anything of the sort but now he had to admit it was tempting. He just wanted to know that his brother was alright and this waiting was killing him.

The thermometer beeped and Sam pulled it out of his brother's ear, smiling when he saw that his temperature had dropped another half a degree.

He was just about to settle down again and try and do some research when Dean started to cry out weakly in his sleep, his body twisting fretfully under the sheets. "Sammy. Please. No."

Sam just sat watching from his position besides Dean's bed. He didn't try and wake his brother or offer any comfort, he was too afraid he would hurt him even more because he didn't have to guess what Dean was dreaming about, he already knew. He hadn't told his brother yet but he remembered, he remembered what it had felt like to pull the trigger and the relief when Dean survived but it wasn't his relief, it was Megs because by the end she hadn't wanted to kill Dean she had wanted to make him suffer, and she had.

Tears started to run down his cheeks, the last few months had just been too much. So many things had changed for the both of them but this last couple of weeks in particularly, with his possession, had been final straw. He just couldn't do this anymore. Leaning forward he began to cry, his arms wrapped around his chest as he tried to hold himself together, fat tears dripping from his face. He didn't know how long he sat there gently rocking, before his brothers shifting motions once again drew his attention and he looked down to try and ascertain the source of his brother's distress.

Dean was shifting listlessly, muttering unintelligibly to himself clearly agitated about something. He couldn't figure out what was causing his brothers distress at first but then something caught his eyes, causing him to stare in fascination.

His own tears had been falling onto his brother's face, catching crystal like in his eyelashes and tracing tracks down the side of his face. Sam smiled as his brother continued to shift, his eyelashes fluttering as he attempted to dislodge the tears. It would seem that even unconscious Dean Winchester didn't want anyone to think he had been crying. "Sorry, bro." He murmured as he cupped the side of his brother's face and used his thumb to wipe away the offending tears. He was surprised when instead of pulling away from the touch as was Dean's usual want, his brother lent into the comfort of the touch, his eyelashes fluttering harder as he fought to open his eyes.

"Sammy? You alright?" Dean's voice was nothing more than a horse whisper, his eyes bleary and still unfocused but the words, the words were enough to make Sam laugh; Even though it sounded harsh and humourless to his ears. Dean was asking if he was alright. He had nearly died for the second time in two days and he was asking if Sam was alright as if that was the only thing that mattered. Sometimes his brother amazed him.

"Yeah, Dean I'm alright." He reached out and gently squeezed his brothers damaged hand, "How about you?"

"Funny dreams…It was raining." Dean mumbled, his voice trailing off as he drifted back to sleep.

Sam had to smile at that, there was no way he was ever going to tell his brother what had just happened.

Sam waited until Dean had fallen back to sleep before, he got up and headed towards the bathroom. He just needed a minute to pull himself together. He was doing his brother no good in his current state. Whatever had been attacking Dean was still out there and there were still two elements to go.

Splashing some cold water in his face, he gripped the edge of the sink and lent on it heavily as he drew in a couple of deep breaths, before raising his head to look himself in the eye. He would have liked to blame what he saw on the mirror but he knew that wasn't the case. You looked like road kill. Sam thought to himself smiling slightly as he wondered why his internal monolog sounded so much like his brother these days.

Moving out of the bathroom he was more than a little surprised to run into a very angry Sheriff Politska. "Sam, I want to know why you have been lying to me"

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