Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or whatnot, it is all property of the CW11 network and the Kripke. So don't sue and please don't be offended by the language cause it's gonna be colorful to say the least.
Chapter 5
Bobby Singer grumbled quietly to himself as he wiped his grease-covered hands with an old rag as he walked through the many mountains and stacks of rusted and mangled metal that had all at some point been drivable automobiles.
It was early afternoon and the grizzled mechanic/ demon hunter found himself with a rumbling stomach and a deep desire for the warmth of his humble abode.
It was Autumn in South Dakota after all.
He was also expecting some company today.
Bobby was keeping his ears open for the familiar low rumble of a 1967 Chevy Impala pulling up to his house sometime within the next few hours.
When he'd called up the son's of the late John Winchester, he'd immediately picked up on the fatigue and the worry that tinted Dean's voice.
When he'd asked asked what the Hell was up, Dean had explained, and most likely down played the severity of the results of the event in question.
He and Sam had just finished up a hunt for a creepy hag up in the Illinois woodlands that had ended up almost being their last.
Sam had led them both a astray somewhat at the Witch had capitalized on the blunder.
She had decided to play Human Ping-Pong with Dean.
Bobby's experience and just plain common sense told him that the oldest Winchester boy was most likely a bruised and cut up mess.
They managed to get the job done but a few days after that, Sam had started to come down with something.
The younger Winchester had started felling under the weather and according to Dean it had gotten progressively worse during the second week after the hunt.
It had been right then and there that after receiving that bit of information that Bobby had promptly invited the Winchester brothers to his place.
Sure, his place was no Hilton, but it was a Hell of a lot better than being holed up in some two-bit motel in the middle of God knows where, especially while being sick and injured.
Bobby Singer had to smirk when he'd heard the way Dean had perked right up at the mention of the invite and had taken up the invite with offer with just a little bit of the customary griping and hesitance.
He climbed up the front steps into his house and sure enough, about an hour and a half later, the grizzled mechanic/hunter was hearing the signature low rumble pulling up to the front of the house.
Bobby set down the mug of coffee he'd fixed himself on the kitchen table before heading off to greet the Winchester boys and see for himself just what kind of state the boys were in.
Bobby's eyes fell on the sleek black 1967 Chevy Impala the second he stepped out onto the porch.
The older man anxiously waited for someone to climb out of the classic vehicle. A few seconds later, the driver's side door popped open, a familiar short haired individual clad in a well-worn brown leather jacket emerged from inside the car.
Dean Winchester, and he looked pretty bad.
His usual tan was replaced by an almost sickly paleness, he had a good deal of stubble gracing his cheeks, more than the usual amount, and his moved with stiffness instead of the usual fluidity of a young hunter.
" Hey Bobby." Called out Dean with a wilted version of his usual bright smirk/grin.
Bobby waved back in greeting but, was more interested in seeing the second Winchester boy.
He watched as Dean lightly scrambled to the door right next to the one he had emerged from and yanked it open.
Bobby himself climbed down the front steps and made his way over to join Dean, both for a better look and as a silent offer of assistance should it be needed.
And the older man found his concern and worry spiking through the roof the second his eyes fell of Sam Winchester.
Where his older brother looked pretty bad, Sam looked totally awful.
There was more or less, no color on the poor boys face and dark, almost bruise like smudges under his eyes, he was curled up into a tight ball in the backseat, nothing like the tall and healthy young man Bobby was used to seeing.
The usual powerhouse that was Sam Winchester was now more or less passed out and visibly exhausted in the backseat of the Impala.
" Hey Sammy, wake up little brother, we're here at Bobby's." Said Dean softly, leaning in and reached out for his brother's shoulder, lightly shaking Sam to rouse him.
Sam awoke with a startled yelp, clearly disoriented as he pushed himself up into a sitting position with his arms holding him up just a little to quickly.
His arms wobbled and his body swayed dangerously, collapse eminent.
And sure enough, before the concerned and stunned eyes of Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer, the young man's arms buckled and his upper body pitched forward.
Quick reflex actions from both Dean and Bobby saved Sam from falling out of the back of the Impala all together.
As they helped Sam out of the Impala, both Bobby and Dean were confused because there was no heat radiating off of Sam as an indication of fever, and he wasn't as lethargic as a grievously sick person would have been.
Instead, Sam was softly shrugging them both off once they'd gotten him upright.
" Guys, I'm okay, I just got up too fast. Hey Bobby." Said Sam, even his voice seemed drained.
" Hey Sam." Greeted back Bobby, not at all convinced that what he'd just seen was a mere case of vertigo as he spoke.
" Sam, why don't you head on inside, you look like you're ready to keel over." He suggested, both because he wanted Sam to lay down before he ended up on the ground and because he very much wanted to speak to Dean and get some clearer details as to what was going on with the both of them.
Sam nodded mutely and was about to step over to the trunk to get his stuff from the car when his brother's hand firmly gripping his arm stopped him.
" That's alright Sammy I'll bring your stuff in, you just go inside and rest." Said Dean in full Big Brother mode.
Sam knew better than to argue with Dean, and he really did want to just crawl into bed and sleep for the next century.
With another nod, Sam trudged off towards Bobby's house, all but dragging himself up the front stairs and disappearing into the house.
The second the door had swung shut behind Sam, Bobby all but pounced on Dean.
" Alright Dean spill." Was all he said, all he needed to say as he gazed sternly at the oldest Winchester brother.
Dean sighed deeply before he began to tell the tale.
" Bobby man, I don't know what the Hell's goin' on with Sam. It just started out as him being sleepy and tired all the time, zoning out almost every second. A few days after that I come back to the motel with lunch and I find him curled up on his bed telling me that his gut feels like it's got a steel bear-trap clamped on it. Then the next day he was fine, no pain no nothing so, we ditched the motel in Illinois but when we got to Iowa, I wake up one morning to find him heaving his guts out in the bathroom. This goes on for the rest of the week until you called, then on the way here he gets this monster headache and the pain in his gut is back in full force, he also had a little bit of a temperature this morning, it's why he was laying in the backseat just now. I wanted to take him to the hospital but you know him, wouldn't go even if I used fork-lift on him, he keeps telling me it's just a flu bug and him being stressed out that made it worse."
During this entire explanation, Bobby's bushy eyebrows had steadily knitted together more and more tightly under the bill of his baseball cap.
" Well now, no wonder the kid's so out of it." Grumbled Bobby as he scratched at his bearded chin thoughtfully.
" Yeah, and that's not all, every since that hunt in Illinois Sam's been acting jittery... y'know jumpy, especially the days after the hunt itself, he would nearly jump out his own skin when I came near him sometimes and I can't seem to figure out why I mean, sure we had to walk around on eggshells for a bit because I was a little pissed at him for making that mistake but, we're okay now. And that witch was no reason for him to get spooked about, she's dead and dusted." Said Dean, worry radiating off of him.
" Alright, I get that something is off here, have you asked Sam if he's feeling anything else?" Asked Bobby.
" Well if he is, he ain't sharin'. You know him Bobby, when it comes to his own health sometimes it like pulling teeth." Sighed Dean with a small shrug, deep down he was hating the feeling of not knowing just what was going on with Sam.
" Well then, maybe I can wheedle some more info out of our dear Samuel." Said Bobby with a small smirk.
It was a smirk Dean couldn't help but smile back at.
" Good old Bobby." Thought Dean as he and the older man retrieved his and Sam's things from the Impala's trunk before heading inside the house.
Upon entering, the empty living room and kitchen was clear sign that Sam had indeed obeyed Bobby and Dean's suggestions and had gone upstairs.
Taking Sam's backpack and duffel from Bobby, Dean made the painstaking journey up the stairs to the second floor with Bobby ever vigilantly watching his retreating form.
Once Dean got to the second floor, he headed down the hallway and ducked into the guest room he and Sam always stayed in, the first door on the left.
The second Dean was in the room, his eyes instantly zeroed in on the figure lying face down on top of the bed by the window.
Sam was completely out, he hadn't even taken his boots or his jacket off.
Dean set the bags down near the door and quietly made his way over to his sleeping little brother.
With gentle ease, Dean set to work unlacing Sam's boots and pulling his sock of, next he somehow wrestled Sam's jacket off with only a few sleep garbled protests before Dean had pulled the jacket free.
Then, Dean was tucking Sam in under the covers like he had done some many times in his life.
Despite himself and making sure it was just him and Sam, Dean reached out and gently carded his fingers through Sam's chocolate brown locks.
" I always loved you're hair Sammy, so silky, smooth, and soft. And I don't mind the girly shampoo you keep using cause it smells so good and-" Dean's mind abruptly cut off the thoughts running through his mind and promptly withdrew his hand from his brother's hand, confused beyond words why he'd just had thoughts like that... about his baby brother's hair of all things.
Shaking his head and glancing at Sam to make sure he was asleep, Dean quietly slipped away towards the door.
But before he stepped across the threshold into the hall, Dean turned his head to stare at Sam one last time before he silently walked out of the room and down the stairs to join Bobby.
Back inside the guest room, a pair of moss green eyes slowly open and stare blankly out the window at the clear South Dakota sky.
These eyes blinked in the silence for a few seconds before they began to grow over bright with the glisten of fast welling tears.
Then, the bitter saline was spilling over, trailing across the bridge of Sam's nose and lightly splashing onto the pillow his head was laying on.
" God Dean, how am I gonna get answers without you or Bobby finding out?" Thought Sam as he curled up into an impossibly tiny ball under the covers.
Right now, he didn't know what to do, but he prayed that later, an idea would come to him, after all he was a Winchester.
Winchester's were nothing if not ingenious.