Sticks and Stones
a/n: Thanx to those that have reviewed. Your angst enthusiasm is making me rethink this story…
lb.
Chapter 3
Sam ran towards the light bobbing through the trees. He hated this but he knew Dean was right. They had no way of knowing who needed help so they had to split up, couldn't risk someone getting hurt.
Dean could get hurt.
There were kids out here and something was killing them. He didn't want anyone to die cause he was afraid.
Dean could die.
Sam gritted his teeth against the unwelcome thoughts swirling around in his head. He had to focus and do his job and his brother did not need him to fall apart right now. He couldn't let Dean down.
The light was just up ahead of him and then it was gone. He turned his flashlight off and stood still, just listening. The wind had picked up and moved through the trees, rustling branches and making the night air seem colder. He heard the definite snap of twigs underfoot and crept forward. He thought he could hear a soft voice, the words lost in the wind.
The shadow of a figure looked down over the edge of the embankment. Sam was sure he heard a boy's voice and figured he must have found one of the kids they had followed. He was watching something over the edge.
"Hey, are you alright? We heard someone call out for help."
The boy turned and stumbled, falling on hands and knees but climbed to his feet and ran off before Sam reached the edge and looked over. Any thoughts he had of following the boy were swept away.
"Dean!"
Sam hit the slope running, the uneven ground jarring his ankles and legs but not slowing him down as he headed for the discarded light on the ground. He didn't pause when he reached the water, wading in and dropping down, grabbing fistfuls of shirt and arms to move the half submerged body out of the icy water. He placed his brother on the ground and had trouble taking his eyes off the pale and bloodied face illuminated by the dim torchlight.
"Dean? C'mon on wake up." Sam grabbed a wrist and tried to feel for a pulse but his own hands were already too numb. He lifted his brother's shirts out of the way and put his hand over Dean's heart. It was there, the faint thrum of a heartbeat.
He had to think, check for breathing as well. As Sam gripped around Dean's stomach to move him, his brother coughed then began choking.
"It's okay, s'okay, s'okay." Sam rolled Dean on his side and held on as his brother coughed water, gagging and gasping for breath.
Sam leaned over, brushing a hand across his brother's face. He was so cold, too cold. Sam stared for a second at the blood on his hand then checked the cuts across Dean's forehead and down one side of his face. He shrugged off his own jacket and wrapped it around his brother's shoulders.
"Is he alright? He saved us."
Sam jumped at the voice and then realised the young couple were standing there, waiting for him to take control. They were just kids and he was supposed to know what to do except he didn't. All he could do was breathe and hold on to his brother.
He's…he's hurt. I need to get him to the car."
"Is he gone?"
"What?"
"That boy, is he gone?"
"Um yeah. He's gone, he ran off."
Sam stood and was able to get Dean over his shoulder after checking that his brother's breathing was steady. The two kids, Sam hadn't even gotten their names, walked in front with the flashlights and clutched each others hands until they reached the Impala. The boy went to open the back door but Sam indicated the front. He gently sat his brother in the seat rearranging his jacket over Dean's shoulders and covering him with some blankets he'd grabbed from the backseat.
"Here, he needs it back." The girl held out Dean's leather jacket which Sam took and placed across his brother's chest.
"That thing, it wasn't a boy was it?"
Sam hesitated. "I don't know but we'll find out okay. That's what we do."
"It didn't have a face."
Sam was a little confused but needed to leave, look after his brother. "We'll figure this out and stop it, I promise. Look I have to go – are you two alright? Can you drive?"
"Yeah I can drive." The girl spoke up.
"Good. Just be careful and don't go off alone till we figure this out."
The couple nodded and walked back over to their car, still clinging to each other. Sam watched them get in and drive off, at least they were safe for the moment. He started the car and put the heater on, hoping it would help warm Dean up.
Sam's hands shook on the wheel as he weighed up whether Dean needed a hospital, the risk of too many questions versus his brother's wellbeing. He opted for their motel, for the moment at least. They didn't know what had done this and he could protect his brother better at the motel as long as Dean didn't get any worse. Salt lines, guns and holy water didn't always mix well with hospital staff.
Sam felt again for Dean's heartbeat, holding his breath until the rhythm pulsed beneath his fingers. "You're gonna be okay Dean."
He started the car, one arm holding his brother against his shoulder so he could watch him. He didn't want to risk Dean silently choking in the backseat while he drove. He felt Dean's body start to shake and although it might mean the start of shock or hypothermia at least it meant he was alive
'Dean? Dean can you hear me?"
"C…cold." Barely audible but it didn't matter.
"I know, just hang on and I'll get you warm okay. Just hang on Dean."
Sam didn't remember driving back to the motel. He certainly wasn't aware that his hand briefly left the wheel to check under his shirt for a bullet wound or that he repeated three words under his breath for the entire trip.
"It's not Tuesday."
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Dean stirred again as Sam was getting him out of the car. A low moan but it was a start, it was something. He had already opened the motel room door and kicked it closed after him then bent over and placed Dean on his bed, throwing their jackets over a chair.
Sam didn't know exactly what had happened to him but he knew he had to start getting his brother warm and he switched the room heater on, turning the dial on high.
He stripped off Dean's outer shirts and peeled the soaked t-shirt off, stopping to wrap the bed quilt around his brother's bare torso while he peeled off the rest of the soaked clothing. He noticed bruises already coming out on the back and ribs of the shaking body in his arms. By the time he had Dean dressed again, his brother began showing signs of consciousness.
"Dean, Dean you with me?" Sam wanted to scream, do something, anything that would take away this rising dread he felt trying to claw its way up from his chest. Anything that would undo Dean being hurt.
"Sm?"
"Yeah Dean, its Sam I'm here. You gonna be alright, you hear me?" Sam placed his hand over Dean's heart again. He was still too cold and the tremors were shaking through his whole body now. Sam piled the quilt and blankets from his own bed over his brother and turned the kettle on, rummaging around in their supplies for some hot chocolate.
He moved a chair by the bed and filled a container with warm water while he waited for the kettle to boil. Squeezing a washcloth in the warm water, he started to wipe away the blood from Dean's face and noticed a blue mark under his brother's jaw. The mark was cold to touch and felt slightly hard, just like frostbite. Just like the marks they had seen on the bodies.
Sam placed the warm cloth over the mark and began searching for more. It didn't take him long to find marks across Dean's exposed forearms and around the back of his neck. Using scissors he cut up a spare clean towel and he quickly covered each blue tinged score with the warmed material.
"Sam? God, what…what happened?" Dean opened his eyes and tried to sit up clutching his head and falling back against the pillow. "Shit. My head…hurts. You?"
"I'm fine. You were attacked Dean. I found you, you weren't, I thought…you weren't…" Sam shook his head and took a breath. "You were in the water face down. You've got those marks on you, it's like they're frozen. Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"No. Don't think so. I remember…Karl and the girl did you find them? Are they alright?" He managed to prop himself up on one elbow and Sam moved a pillow under his back.
"Yeah they helped me get you out, they were scared and cold but okay. I didn't get it Dean, I didn't even see what attacked you. All I found was a boy watching from up in the trees and then he ran and that's when I saw you."
"I thought it was a boy at first but this was something else. I mean, I was up close and personal with it and, and I still couldn't see its face. It was strong though and it felt cold. It was saying something but…" Dean closed his eyes as a violent shudder took his breath away and seemed to tear and pull at his already hurting body.
"Dean? Hey, c'mon just breathe. Slow and steady, just breathe. Hey, stay with me."
An ache that began in his chest and lungs soon caught in his throat and turned into a spluttering, gasping cough. As he finally caught his breath he clung to it as long as he could but Sam's voice faded away to nothing.
When he opened his eyes he was lying down on his side and Sam was leaning over him, jaw clamped shut and eyes wide. He felt warmth on the back of his neck and arms which made sense when he saw Sam placing a cloth across his shoulder. It took him another few seconds to realise what the warm weight over his chest was and then he understood from the almost wild look in his brother's eyes.
"Hey. How long?" Dean rasped out, he just wanted to close his eyes again.
"Bout twenty minutes." Sam looked away, moving his hand from Dean's heart and stood up.
"Huh. Feel tired Sammy."
'Try and drink this first, just something warm and some painkillers. Think you can sit up for a minute?"
Dean nodded and let himself be helped upright against the pillows. He grimaced as the movement made his neck and back ache, made his head swim.
"Take it slow Dean. These marks on you are like frostbite and they're gonna hurt more as they warm up okay." Sam put a warm cup in his brother's hand waiting to make sure he could grip it, before handing him some tablets.
"My hands aren't hurt and I touched it, tried to push it off. I…I can't remember what it looked like Sam. God, I can't think…" Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed in frustration when his brain wouldn't focus. The urge to sleep was suddenly overwhelming and he could feel himself sagging.
Sam took the half empty cup from his brother's hand, placing it on the table and then sitting back in the bedside chair. "You nearly drowned in freezing water Dean and you've hit your head, you need to rest now. We'll work the rest out in the morning."
"You hurt Sam?" Dean tried to focus on the face beside him until he heard the reply.
"No Dean I'm not hurt. Go to sleep." He spoke quietly, watching his brother's eyelids already drooping as his breathing deepened. He still felt for a pulse though, not ready to accept that Dean was just sleeping, exhausted. It was strong and steady.
Sam's hand ran wearily through his own still damp hair as he slumped in the chair, trembling from weariness and soaked clothes that he hadn't bothered to change. Death, real or imagined seemed to loom at every turn threatening to take his brother.
It should have kept him instead.
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Dean's hand brushed absently at his neck, turning his head further into the pillow as he tried to move away from the source of his annoyance. His fingers caught in the lukewarm damp cloth and he pulled at it until it came away, sleep hazed eyes taking a minute to register what he held.
Cautiously moving his upper body he turned and raised one shoulder until he could rest his weight on an elbow. The pull and raw feeling on his neck and arms was uncomfortable but manageable although coffee and Ibuprofen sounded like a good plan. He also realised he was almost buried under a mountain of blankets.
He peered over at the other bed through the dimness and saw with growing concern it was empty. Unused. The vacant chair beside him cast a dull shadow across his pillow as the grey morning light seeped through the window on the far side of the room. He straightened his elbow, sitting up and peering around then got slowly out of bed.
Sam was propped up against the far wall, facing both the bed and door with a rifle lying across his lap, legs outstretched across the floor. Dean noticed the salt lines across the door and window.
His brother's eyes were closed, arms folded across his body and as Dean moved closer he noticed Sam was still dressed in the same rumpled clothes from yesterday.
"Sammy." Dean shook him gently, recoiling in shock at how cold his brother was, cold and soaked.
The dark eyes that opened in fright looked at him without recognition for several seconds before blinking slowly as his brother frowned, still making no move.
"Dean? What're you doing out of bed?" The voice was ragged, a little confused. "You got hurt."
"C'mon Sam you need to get up and get in the shower. C'mon stand up." Dean laid the rifle on the floor, gripped his brother's arm and pulled as Sam tried to get his legs under him, half falling against the wall in the process.
Dean began tugging at the damp shirt sleeve until Sam pulled away, one hand still balanced against the wall. "Don't okay. I'm fine."
"Jesus Sam you're not fine. You've gotta look after yourself, you're gonna get sick. It's been hours and you're freezing."
"I'll live."
Dean frowned at his brother's current shivering state, noting how Sam's hand moved back across his torso before he moved slowly across the room and sat on the end of his bed. He turned and watched as Sam managed to shrug his pullover off and began fumbling with his bootlaces. His hands obviously lacking in body heat to muster the motor skills required for the task.
"I know you'll live jackass but unless you get warmed up I'm gonna have to put up with you bitching about feeling sick." Dean bent down, his bruised back and side twinging, and knocked Sam's hands out of the way to undo the laces and take his brother's boots off. He grimaced removing the socks which felt like ice and were heavy with water.
"Are you alright?" Sam hands worked at the buttons on his overshirt.
"Yeah Sam, your feet are just gross." Dean stood and watched as Sam finally got one button undone then took over in frustration. "Just move your hands."
He was angry at Sam for not looking after himself but also angry at himself for getting hurt. He had made himself vulnerable, discarding his weapon so he wouldn't hurt a kid which wasn't a kid after all.
And as an added bonus, Sam had been spooked before but this had obviously made things worse.
Dean helped peel the long sleeves off his brother's arms then stood back. "You're on your own now, can you manage a shower?"
Sam shook his head. "Dean stop. Just stop okay, I wasn't the one who got hurt."
"Yeah well who else is gonna keep your sorry ass out of trouble. We both need to get cleaned up then work out what went down last night."
Sam stood in slow motion, his body language giving away more than he would ever admit. Dean saw the weariness he felt himself, reflected in his siblings face, in his eyes. He gave the damp t-shirt a prod with his hand, fully intending to try and lighten the moment but stopped short when Sam flinched and pulled away.
"Sam? What is it, you said you didn't get hurt."
"I didn't, it's just cold."
"Show me."
"What? No."
"Dammit Sam." He was at the end of his patience and grabbed the hem of his brother's t-shirt and reefed it up.
"What is this? What happened to you?" Dean was alarmed to see thin gouges down one side of his brother's ribs and stomach. Some of the marks has almost scabbed but many were still red raw and seeping.
"Sam." Dean grabbed his brother's arm as he tried to push past him. Sam stilled, facing away from Dean as if still deciding whether he could make a break for it.
"Nothing happened to me. I thought if I wasn't hurt you'd be okay, that's how it's supposed to work. No bullet and you're alive. But…but that doesn't work either, you still get hurt. I have to fix this Dean."
Dean was floored by the desperation in Sam's voice and the way he was trying to rationalise what he had done to himself. He wasn't sure about the bullet Sam referred to but he would store that away for now.
"Sammy, God you can't do this to yourself. Please, promise me you'll stop. Please Sam."
Sam met his brother's eyes and was lost. How could he explain that it took away some of his fear, that it was an outlet for how terrified he was for his brother? All he saw though was how much this seemed to hurt Dean. He had caused this hurt on top of what Dean was already going through and it just about broke him.
"M'sorry Dean, I'm sorry." He sat back down, whispering the words and briefly closing his eyes unable to look anymore at the pain he had caused.
"I get it Sam." Dean sank back down on his bed again so he was directly facing his brother. "I know you're scared and it's okay. I am too." He added quietly. "We're gonna look out for each other like we always do but I need to know you're looking after yourself Sam. I need to know that."
Sam nodded. "The same goes for you Dean. I don't come first. We'll look out for each other but you don't get to worry about me when you're the one that's hurt."
"As long as you have a hot shower now." He managed half a grin. "Then we eat. Then we work this out."
"I saw a boy before I found you." Sam paused remembering the outline of his brother's body in the glow of the flashlight on the water. "He ran off before I got close but he was watching what happened."
"You think he knew what it was?"
"Well even if he did, I didn't get a good look at him." He looked up at his brother, saw the too pale face and the bruising on his cheekbone and forehead. "You nearly died Dean."
Again.
"Well I didn't Sam." Not yet he added silently, trying to look better than he felt. "Please man, go warm up."
Sam rose from the bed and walked into the small kitchen area returning with arm outstretched and hand open with a pill bottle. "Here take some, the frostbite or whatever those marks are will hurt for a while."
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Dean took another sip of his coffee and stared at the half eaten toast and bacon on his plate. "It had Karl when I got there, pushing him under then bringing him up for air. I thought it was a kid y'know so I put the gun down, thought I could take him."
"So it was playing with him before trying to kill him? I don't get it, why not just drown him outright if it was that strong?" Sam absently rearranged the cold pancakes in front of him.
"Can you swim?"
"What?"
"It asked him if he could swim. Two Mississippi…" Dean's stomach clenched. Can you swim Dean? "Dammit!"
"Dean what?"
"It's Adam. He tried to kill Karl the way he was humiliated. When those kids were flushing his head yesterday, Karl held him down while they taunted him. They asked him if he could swim."
"There's no way Adam could've…"
"Yeah I know, something's doing his dirty work."
"We need to pay Adam a visit. This doesn't seem like a spirit or anything else we've come across before."
"I saw it, hell it felt solid enough but had no features Sam. I know it was dark but I couldn't make out a face, it was all in shadow."
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They walked past the picket fence and along the neat path, guns tucked under their jackets. Dean banged on the screen door not bothering with the bell and they waited silently. He raised his fist to hammer on the door again when the inner door opened and Adam's face appeared.
"So Adam, what did you get up to last night? Out with friends, read a good book or I don't know try to drown someone?" Dean folded his arms and waited.
"What are you talking about? I was home last night. What…what happened?"
Sam shook his head. "Listen Adam we know you've got something to do with this okay. We know you're hurting the kids that bully you but you're messing with something dangerous and you need to let us help you."
"I said I don't know what you're talking about."
"How did you hurt your hand?" Sam nodded at the cuts. "You were there, that was you I saw fall wasn't it."
"Leave me alone."
"Adam this is getting out of control, please we can help. We just need to know what you're doing and we can help stop it." Sam reasoned.
The boy looked at Sam and shook his head. "You can't help me."
The door was slammed closed.
"We're gonna find out what you're doing you little shit. If I have to tie you down and beat it out of you myself. No one else is gonna die."
Sam grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him away from the door. "He's too scared Dean, he's afraid of something. I don't know, maybe he's not doing this on purpose."
"Sam he used the same words that Karl said to him, then tried to drown the same kid that flushed him. A little too much poetic justice don't you think? Unless someone else in the group is trying to protect him."
"Maybe but…I think you might be right."
"What?"
"Poetic justice Dean. Think about it, the other kids all died in different ways but they were all part of the group that bullied Adam. Chris Millpond died eating dirt and earthworms, what's that make you think of?"
"You mean nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I'll eat some worms is the motive here? If you're right, this could get really weird Sam. We need to find these kids again."
"Yeah, the term eat my shorts just became a death sentence."
tbc…