Elements of doubt
Chapter 6: Escalation
Things spiral out of control when Dean disappears.
Thanks, Tacpebs and apieceofcake for the kind reviews, and thanks purehalo. I was beginning to think work had made me loose my sense of humour entirely or at least go slightly mad
Well this is a little quicker than the last time. I hope it's O.K.
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"Dude, I'm not two, I don't do bath time. Besides which that's just plain gross."
Dean eyed the porridge filled bath with a mixture of resignation and disgust. It was bad enough that he was currently as weak as a kitten. Now Sam had gone into complete mother hen mode and was sticking to him like some kind of floppy haired mutant Labrador. It was getting on his nerves and to cap it all off his heat rash still hadn't gone away and was itching so badly it made him reconsider shooting himself just so he could get a little relief.
Hence the oatmeal bath, a truly charming suggestion from the good Doctor, made after he refused to prescribe anything steroidal for his itching because of his current half baked, half drowned condition.
"Stop being such a wimp Dean. It's not as if you haven't been in one of these before."
"Sam, last time we landed ourselves in one of these, you ate the porridge."
"Dude, I was like three."
"Still it was gross." Commented Dean, as he tried to put off the inevitable.
"Dean." Warned Sam, he wasn't willing to take no for an answer on this one. Deans constant scratching was driving him insane.
O.K. Fine" He bitched, unwilling to admit that he would do just about anything to stop the itching right about now. Still this was pretty gross, even by their standards.
Sitting on the edge of the tub he slowly lowered himself into the paste like substance, grimacing as he did so. He was suddenly doubly grateful for his stubborn refusal to strip down any further than his boxers for this little culinary experiment. There was just some places he did not want this stuff to go, however good it was at stopping itching.
Sam had to laugh as the look of complete disgust plastered across his brothers face quickly gave way to one of almost orgasmic ecstasy, as the itching suddenly eased.
"Dude just shut up."
There was real irritation in his brothers' voice so he eased back on his laughter. They had already had one fight this morning over Sam's constant hovering and he wasn't yet willing to have another. Not when the last fight had caused Dean's temperature to spike again.
Humming softly he tried to force himself to calm down and remember that his brother was in pain and not just being a pain.
The gentle humming began to take on a vague sort of tune, as his breathing began to calm and his mind drift, if he could just remember where he had heard the tune before.
Then his body was moving, fluid and sure. It should have worried him that he had never intended to move but it didn't.
His brother lay, now almost fully submerged. Completely oblivious to what was going on around him as the pain and discomfort bled out of his body, leaving him in a semi-conscious haze.
Sam watched with a distracted sort of interest as his hands moved of their own accord, it was like watching a play from the end of a tunnel.
He didn't even pause before he pushed his brother's head under the water.
Dean's mind jumped into full consciousness at the familiar sensation of being forced under, as the sludgy liquid closed over his head for the first time in a long time he panicked.
'Where the hell was Sam?'
Sam listened to the sound of his brother heels pound a futile tattoo on the end of the tub, but the frantic beat didn't help him remember anymore of the tune in his head, so he shut it out.
In a last desperate bid for life, Dean stopped fighting and let himself be pushed fully under, then in a repeat of his move from two days before he kicked up hard.
He never expected to hit anything not after the last time, so when his feet connected with a solid object and the pressure released from his head, it took him a moment to realize what had happened. When he did he used the last of his strength to heave his body over the side of the tub and back himself firmly into the corner as he tried to clear enough of the paste like oatmeal out of his eyes to see his attacker.
Sam hit the ground hard, the pain from his nose bringing the world back sharply back into focus. Clutching his head against the sudden waves of nausea that over took his senses he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he began to heave up tendrils of black smoke.
When he finally managed to force his eyes open, the sight that greeted him came close to ripping his heart out.
Dean had crammed himself into the corner between the bath and the wall, a look of fear and betrayal etched into his features.
The two brothers could only sit and stare at each other unable to deal with the ramification with what had just happened. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours but it was probably only seconds. They stared at each other until the bathroom door flew open with enough force to make it rebound off its frame as Politska and Shaw burst in, the Sheriff taking the lead.
Politska blinked once in surprised before going into full command mode. Reaching down she pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him towards the door and Doctor Shaw.
"Take him down stairs and patch him up. I'll see to Dean." She ordered.
Shaw nodded and pulled the shocked and bleeding young man down the corridor after him.
Politska squatted down and stared at the elder of the two boys, unsure what to do next despite her outward confidence. The tremors that had been plaguing him earlier were back in full force but it was easy to see that wasn't the only reason he was shaking.
"Damn boy." She sighed "What trouble have you got yourself into now?"
She reached briefly for a towel before changing her mind. With the stuff he was covered in it would probably just stick to him.
"Come on kid let's get you sorted out." Reaching down to pull the kid to his feet, she wasn't particularly surprised when he flinched slightly at her touch, but he had cleared enough of the goop out of his eyes to see who she was and didn't fight her when she pushed him into the bathrooms small shower and turned the water on, not caring that she got soaked in the process.
Dean's mind was reeling. His brother had tried to kill him! He just couldn't get his head past it. One minute they were talking, bickering as usual, the next he was trying to drown him.
The kid had sunk to the bottom of the cubical, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. It was clearly the only way he could stay even this upright.
Placing a hand on his back she could feel his heart pounding against the walls of his chest, his breathing coming evenly only as an act of will as he fought for control.
She had to admit she was impressed most people would be curled up on the floor crying at half of what this young man had been through lately.
She was also strangely touched that he trusted her enough to let even this much weakness show. He didn't strike her as someone who trusted easily or who let people see more of him than he wanted them too.
"Keep your eyes shut while I clean this stuff off for you. O.K?"
Dean nodded into his arms, still too distracted to really care what was going on around him. Now he was feeling a little calmer. He KNEW it couldn't have been Sam. It just couldn't have been. He knew his brother and Sam wouldn't do that.
Or at least that was what his mind was telling him. It was just that after everything that had happened in the last few months, their fathers revelation and Sam's possession only days before, he couldn't entirely shake the fear.
Politska finished cleaning the worst of the crap off the boy's hair and face before turning the water off and squeezing his arm slightly to get him to look at her.
"So did you and your brother just have a fight or do I have something bigger to worry about?" She asked, once she was sure she had got his attention.
Dean's eyebrows shot up at the Sheriff referring to Sam as his brother. Were they really that obvious?
The Sheriff just rolled her eyes at his shocked expression. "If you two were really knocking boots, I doubt you would be quite so modest." She stated blandly, indicating his goo incrusted shorts.
Dean eyebrows shot the rest of the way up to his hairline before he caught the mischievous glint in the Sheriffs eye and he realized he was being made fun of. "No Mam." He agreed, giving her a slight smile.
Politska smiled back at him please that she had guess right, teasing the boy had been the right way to go in getting him to calm down.
Pulling herself together she gave him an apprising look before continuing. "Dean I need you to answer a question for me and I need you to be totally honest."
Dean shifted uncomfortable under her sharp gaze but nodded.
"This thing you're running away from. I need to know how bad it is. I need you to tell me if you were responsible?"
Dean swallowed hard. "They think…"
She cut him off. "That's not what I'm asking Dean. I need to know if you hurt anyone."
Dean shook his head, meeting her eyes as he did so. "No Mam. We were just trying to help."
"Like here."
"Yes Mam." He licked his lips wondering how much he should say. In the end he just shrugged. "It was…. complicated."
Politska pinched the bridge of her nose. She was beginning to get the picture. "Like here." She sighed, meeting Deans knowing gaze as she did so.
"Yes Mam. Like here."
They sat in silence for a moment until the Sheriff noticed that Dean had started to shiver.
Getting up she reached down and pulled him to his feet, holding him steady until she was sure he would stay up right.
"Think you can take it from here?" She asked.
He nodded and reached for the taps.
Politska gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and headed out of the door.
"I'll be outside if you need me."
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Shaw had barely got Sam into the kitchen before the boy all but keeled over, heaving his gut out into the sink.
He had tried to kill his brother. He had nearly killed Dean.
He was shaking so badly by the time he had finished throwing up that he barely registered it when Shaw pulled him to sit by the table.
"Let's have a look at you now, shall we, Son." He said kindly.
Sam just let him do whatever he needed to do without comment. He just didn't care. He barely even flinched when Shaw reset his nose.
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Getting cleaned up turned out to be more of a challenge than he would have ever imagined. Fifteen minutes after Politska had headed out of the door he was sitting on the flooring in the bathroom in clean boxers wondering why getting his T-shirt on had suddenly become such a challenge.
"We should probably re-dress those wounds of yours before for you put that on anyway."
Dean looked up at the Sheriffs as she came to squat in front of him, first aid kit in hand and nodded his assent.
It only took her a minute to get the hole in his shoulder and the bullet crease along his arm covered up, but she paused at his hands, turning them over and frowning at the damaged palms. Most of the blisters he had gained the day before had broken during his struggles with Sam and his palms looked angry and raw.
"I think we had better get the Doc have a look at these. If we let them seize up, they're not going to be of much use to you."
Politska sighed; the boy really was in a sorry state. Under normal circumstances she had no doubt that he would be bitching up a storm over her cavalier treatment of him. Picking up his T-shirt, she shoved her arms through the holes and grabbed his wrists, dropping the T-shirt over his head with practiced ease before he even had the chance to protest, although Dean still managed an indignant scowl at being treated like a child.
"I have three sons each of them more stubborn than a mule and a husband who still thinks he's invincible despite all evidence to the contrary. If you think I can't handle you boy you've got another thing coming." She informed him matter of factly, a note of challenge in her voice. "Come on let's get you back to bed."
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Sam couldn't even look at his brother when he re-entered the room. He just stared at the lump in the bed that indicated his brother's feet.
"I'll give you boys a minute."
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the Sheriffs voice, although why he didn't know. Calming himself down he kept staring at the same spot on the bed even after he heard the door close, unable to look at Dean for fear of what he might see.
Dean stared at his brother, taking in the hunched shoulders and the downcast eyes. The kid was doing one hell of a job of beating himself up. He could feel the waves of self recrimination and self doubt rolling off him from the other side of the room, and somehow it made him feel better. Not that Sam was hurting but that he was still his geeky, overly emotional, pain in the ass younger brother.
"Sam, look at me Dude."
Sam did what he was told, taking in his brothers pale shaking form. Buried under a pile of blanket and looking a thousand times worse than he had when he had gotten up this morning.
"Oh Man. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean. I…"
Dean cut off his brother's angst filled ramblings. "Sam its O.K., I know it wasn't you." And he did. Whatever others might think, including their father, Sam just didn't have it in him to be a cold blooded killer.
"It looks like the big bad guy does a pretty nifty line in possession."
"I don't think so Dean, it didn't feel like before. It felt like me. Besides..." He held up his wrist to prove that Bobby's anti-possession charm was still hanging there.
Dean just snorted. "So it wasn't a demon Sam. I didn't really think it was anyway, but we both know there's more than one way to get inside somebody's head. We just need to figure out what we're deal with and kill it. Then everything will be fine."
Sam had to smile at that. His brother's view on life was so simple at times. It ran along the lines of protect Sam, kill bad guy, chase girls and beer. It was once of the few constants in his life and it was reassuring as hell, but he wasn't willing to cut himself a break just yet.
"Dean…." He trailed off. He just didn't know what to think. It had felt strange but it had felt like him. Like at least part of him had wanted to do it.
"No Sam. It wasn't you. I know you and that wasn't you."
Dean gave him a hard look, willing him to take in what he was saying. It wasn't like Sam to doubt himself like this.
When Sam finally nodded, he asked. "So… we good?"
Sam smiled gratefully. He still wasn't sure if he entirely believed his brother. After all Dean would probably forgive him if he had intended to kill him, but he loved the big idiot for that and having him around made him feel safe in a way that he couldn't even begin to explain.
Dean reached out and gave his brother a playful whack on the arm. Only to yelp at the sudden and painful reminder of how damaged his hands really were.
"You're an idiot you know that? Did it even occur to you not to do that?" Sam grinned at his grimacing brother. The tension in the room suddenly broken,
"Can it Rocky. I can still kick your ass."
Sam reached up and gently touched his plastered nose.
A brief flicker of pain played across his brother's face and Sam instantly regretted his obvious play for sympathy, but then it was gone and Dean grinned.
"Damn right Bitch."
"Jerk" Replied Sam returning his brother grin.
"Not to interrupt this touching moment but I've got bad news." Both of their heads shot up to face, the grim faced Sheriff. "Martin Hardy's dead."
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An hour later the three of them were sitting in the middle of piles of papers and photos, sipping coffee, or at least Sam and the Sheriff were, Dean had hot chocolate having been banned from ingesting anything that could be considered a stimulant.
"Not even a frigging marshmallow" Bitched Dean, staring at his drink in utter disgust.
Sam smirked slightly, but chose to ignore his brothers bitching. It didn't do to encourage him.
"So they're still calling it an accident even though a patient dying in a third story room from a gas leak that originated in the basement, without anyone else even catching a whiff of the gas has to be…." Sam threw his arms up in frustration. "I don't know but it must be really big."
"The Coroner ruled it a "freak" accident if it helps" Commented the Sheriff, with a hint of grim humor underlying her voice.
Running a hand through her hair in a gesture of frustration she continued. "I've got to admit I'm at my wits end over this. I just don't get how these accidents are being pulled off; there are just too many variables involved. We don't even have a clear connection between the people who are being targeted."
Running a hand through her hair for a second time, she gave them a self deprecating smirk. "I even passed the files by the FBI for all the good it did me. They just passed me off as some Hicksville Sheriff jumping at shadows. I doubt anyone even read the file."
"Feds" Snorted Dean from around a mouth full of donut, clearly indignant on the Sheriffs behalf.
Sam had to agree, Politska was the sharpest investigator they had come across in a long time, even without their specialized knowledge she was still well up in the game.
The Sheriff nodded her agreement with Dean's statement. "There was a time they taught those boys something before they let them loose in the world. Nowadays you're lucky if they can find their asses with both hands."
Dean finished up his donut, a somewhat messy affair considering both his hands were now bandaged and started shifting through the victims photos, laying them out on the bed in a slightly thoughtful manner.
"There is a pattern though." He stated quietly.
Sam gave him a surprised look as the Sheriff shifted forward in her seat; neither of them seeing it.
"I figured you wouldn't get it genius." Dean teased his brother.
"Just look at these people. You've got a writer, an architect and an artist, and that's just to begin with. That may be a normal enough mix up at Stanford, but none of these guys are exactly your average Joe, so I recon it's not around here. Plus each of these fields has at least a loose association with one of the Muses."
Sam just stared at this brother. It was very easy to forget sometimes that Dean did this for a living, and he was very good at his job.
Dean grinned. "What? If you didn't want me to learn anything, you shouldn't have child proofed the laptop."
"Dude, I only did that because you kept…." Sam eyes widened. "Dean were you looking at the naked statues?"
Dean just grinned, leaving it up to Sam's imagination.
Sam just stared at his brother in disbelief, Part of him new that Dean was just winding him up, but the other part was just disturbed.
Politska smiled at their antics. These two reminded her so much of her own sons it just wasn't funny. Of course her eldest was fifteen. God she hoped they grew up before they reached their age.
"So we're back to the Greeks then?" She still didn't get it but she was getting the impression it was beginning to mean something to the boys.
"Looks like." Hedged Sam, he wasn't willing to say too much until he had had the chance to talk to Dean alone, but a little general history wouldn't hurt. "Some of the older Greek myths assigned certain desirable characteristics of each of the elements, although which ones varied between myths. They would use the element as part of their initiation rites, to test the worthiness of the candidate."
"So these people's talents are just the starting point. Whatever is doing this is looking for something else from them as well." She frowned slightly "Then that would mean the second victim is just…"
"The carrot" Finished Dean his face grim "A way to make sure the other person goes through with the test."
"Dean. I'm …" Sam trailed off, the look on Deans face cutting his short.
"It's O.K Sammy."
But it wasn't, it was bad enough that Dean had had to go through what he did but to be told that in the grand scheme of things you had no worth beyond his use in controlling the one person left in the world he had sworn to protect. The worst thing for Sam though was the look in his brothers' eyes when he had tried to talk to him about it. Dean had always been his protector and to be used in this way had to hurt, but it was more than that it was as if he agreed, he didn't matter as much as Sam.
"I think we screwed up the pattern when we rescued Sarah." He said trying to justify his selection in a way that wouldn't belittle his brother. "I probably got picked because I was the closest to the actual incident."
Dean just snorted not believing any of it.
Politska shifted uncomfortably, aware that she was witnessing something intensely personal. Reaching for her hat, she got up to go.
They had been thrashing things out for over an hour now, and while they now had a better idea of the motivation behind what was happening they were no closer to find out who or what was doing this than before.
"I'm going to head back out and see if I can dig up any more information."
Dean looked up and met her eyes. "Thanks Sheriff." He said slightly awkwardly, for everything clearly written across his face.
The Sheriff gave him a fond smile. "Call me Pol." She tipped her head in Sam's direction. "It'll save on some confusion."
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"Dean" Tried Sam again, once the Sheriff had left.
"I said no Sam." He didn't want to talk about it. THERE WAS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT. There was no way in hell he was letting whatever trice damned freak that was doing this use him to get to Sam, it just wasn't happening.
"We need to get out of here. Get somewhere we can defend."
Sam nodded. "Pol might let us get away with covering this place with protective sigil but I don't think Shaw is going to be quite so accommodating."
Dean sighed, resting back against the pillows. "We still got the motel room?"
"Yeah, it's better than nothing I suppose."
"At least it's private." Dean gestured towards the door. "You'd better talk to Pol and see if she can spring us."
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The Sheriff hadn't been all that happy about letting them head out on their own but she'd let them have their way. Understanding there were some things about the situation she still didn't know. Not that she liked it very much.
So two hours later they were back in their motel room surrounded by every kind of supernatural defense their father had ever taught them. The room looked like a set from a horror movies or a psychopath's layer.
Sam was engrossed in his research, leaving Dean to find his own amusement, which pretty much boiled down to annoying Sam. He was currently half way through a spirited rendition of 'Highway to Hell'. Under normal circumstances Dean could actually hold at tune, which meant that when he put his mind to it he could miss every note with amazing accuracy. Add to that the tremendous amount of phlegm he was currently capable of producing and the annoying Sam plan was going pretty well.
"Fine!" shouted Sam slamming the laptop closed. "What do I have to do to get you to shut up?"
'Mission accomplished', grinned Dean.
"Coffee would be a start."
"What? No! The Doctor said no stimulants."
"That was hours ago. Besides," He grinned, wickedly. "The Doctor doesn't have to put up with me."
"No Dean. I'm not leaving you to go get coffee and you're not going out" Announced Sam sternly.
"Fine" He smiled back, drawing in a deep breath to start again.
"Okay…Okay." Sam held his hands up in defeat. "Dukes got coffee down in reception. Will that do?"
Dean just grinned in triumph.
"You even move and I'm handcuffing you to the bed."
"Kinky, Sammy, Haven't you already got us enough of a reputation?"
"I mean it Dean. You don't let anyone in."
"Yes. Mom" The elder Winchester rolled his eyes. Sam sure could get his panties in a twist.
Sam chucked him his phone and grabbed his wallet. Then giving his brother one last looked of disgust, headed out the door, locking it behind him.
Waving at the Sheriff's Deputy Politska had stationed out on the street, he walked into the small reception.
"Back again Lad?" Greeted Duke
"Yeah, just looking for some coffee"
"Sure. Just put a fresh pot on, it'll be off in a minute."
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Dean slumped back against the pillows still grinning from his victory. Sammy was so easy to manipulate. It was an easy bet that he didn't even remember, the chick-flick moment he had been planning over the whole 'Carrot' revelation.
A quiet rap on the door shook him from his revelry.
That was strange; Sam had definitely taken his key. It was worrying but knocking on the door was hardly the usual way to announce a supernatural attack. Getting up and peaking through the closed blinds, he was more than a little surprised to see Eileen from the pottery standing on the doorstep. The young woman was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a large take out bag clutched to her chest.
The sight of the take-out bag reminded him that he hadn't actually eaten anything but a donut in the last 24 hours. He should have told Sam to grab some food as well.
Stomach grumbling he stuck his gun down the back to the sweat pants he was wearing and he reached for the door handle. Surly even Sam couldn't object?
"HI James." She greeted the opening door cheerfully.
Her eyes widened slightly at his disheveled appearance, but she recovered quickly, just giving him a sympathetic look instead.
"Mac asked me to stop by and check in on you." She smiled winningly, waving the bag at him. "Chinese?"
Dean grinned and slipped out the door, stepping over the salt line as he did so, carefully closing the door behind as he did so, it wouldn't do of Eileen to see the state of the room.
Giving her his most charming grin, he replied, "Sounds great."
Eileen returned his flirtatious smile, she handed him the large bag.
Struggling slightly due to his damaged hands, he had to use both hand to hold the bag to his chest.
"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize." She apologized, reaching forward to help but only succeeded in causing him to lose his grip on the bag.
It took Dean a second to even register the sharp stab of pain in his arm, he was so preoccupied with not spilling the food but he didn't miss the sluggish feeling that was overtaking his body.
"You Bitch. What did you do to me?" He slurred, as he fought to get back into the room.
He didn't make it.
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