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 7
Dean Winchester used his free hand to shut the Impala's trunk before quickly grabbing the other end of Bobby's package, giving the whole of his other arm a nice reprieve from carrying the whole of the package's weight.
Eager to get inside the house and maybe indulge in a nice hot mug of coffee, Dean hurriedly made his way up the front steps of Bobby's house and once again balanced the package in one arm while he reached for the front door knob.
Once he'd deftly turned the knob and got the door open, Dean stepped over the threshold and out of the cold, much sought after warmth washing over him and chasing the chill away from his being.
Dean set the package down on the small table in the foyer.
No sooner had his fingers left the cardboard, a loud, desperate scream filled the air.
" DEAN, GET IN HERE NOW!"
It took Dean just a split second to recognize the voice.
It was Bobby's, only laced with fear and confusion.
Then Dean was running as fast as his legs could carry him to the place the scream had originated from, the living room.
His heart felt like it was going tor burst inside his chest as his body went from calm and slightly cold to taken of guard and confused and finally to alarmed, ready to defend, and just plain worried as hell.
When he heard the chaotic shuffling of boot dashing across hardwood flooring, Bobby tore his gaze away from a still unconscious Sam's pale and lax face to see Dean Winchester barreling into his living room.
At first, the younger man looked like an animal enraged and ready to attack whatever threat was present.
Then, when Dean's gaze fell on the living rooms two other occupants, the young man froze to a dead halt as stared with wide, stunned eyes.
Right before Bobby Singer's eyes, Dean's entire demeanor switched from enraged beast to terrified big brother.
Dean stood there transfixed, his feet refusing to move as he beheld the sight before him.
There on the floor by a cluttered table, Bobby Singer was on his knees and laying limp and unmoving in his arms was Sam.
" SAMMY!" Yelled Dean, his feet seemed to unlock themselves upon his scream and in an instant he was at Sam's side.
Dean all but crashed down onto his own knees and took his unconscious little brother into his own arms, raw fear radiating off of him in waves as he looked down at Sam.
Cradling Sam against him with on arm, Dean reached up with his free and lightly trembling hand, he cupped one of Sam's cheeks, which was cool and clammy to the touch.
" Sam?" Said Dean, using the hand cupping Sam's face to gently shake him much like Bobby had done earlier.
Dean's efforts proved futile as Sam simply lolled like a rag-doll with the movement of his brother's hand.
The oldest Winchester brother turned panicked and beseeching eyes to Bobby Singer.
" Bobby, what the hell happened? What's going on with him?" He yelled urgently as he all but clutched Sam's prone form to him in a death-grip.
" I don't know what the Hell just happened. One second your brother was fine, reading through one of the books I gave him, the next his eyes were rolling up into his head and he was toppling over the side of the chair he was sittin' in! I caught him before he could reach the ground but he's out cold Dean!" Cried a very alarmed Bobby as his gaze went to the still unconscious person in the room.
With this information whirling around his head, Dean acted on his first instinct.
To take care of Sammy.
" Bobby, help me get him upstairs." Barked Dean urgently as he quickly pulled Sam to where his back rested against Dean's chest. Dean deftly hooked his arms under Sam's arm-pits and wrapped them securely around the younger man's chest.
Bobby scrambled to give the assistance Dean had required of him.
The older man mirrored Dean's actions and hooked his own arms under and around Sam's knees.
" Together on three." Said Dean, Bobby nodding in agreement and showing that he was ready.
" Alright. One... Two... THREE!" Hissed Dean, grunting softly as he slowly climbed to his feet, taking the brunt of his brother's dead-weight with him.
After a few tense seconds filled with hisses and grunts of exertion from two men, Sam was finally lifted off the floor, hanging limp but held secure between his older sibling and Bobby Singer.
" Let's move Bobby." Gritted out Dean before he started the pain-staking task of getting to the second floor of Bobby's house.
He began carefully backing out of the living room with half of his brother in his arms, Bobby following with Sam's lower half in his.
" Y'know, it would be a good idea if you woke up right about now Sammy." Growled Dean as he reached the base of the main stair case.
Sam remained out cold and was deaf to his brother's suggestive words.
And so, Dean began climbing up the stairs backwards, his foot falls loud as they stomped with the extra weight burdening them.
Bobby silently cursed the staircase for being so dang long, his knees for aching so bad as he climbed the proverbial mountain, and whatever it was that had caused the boy he was half-carrying, pass out the way he had.
After some more hissing, groaning, and stomping Dean and Bobby finally got Sam up the stairs to the second floor and then down the hall to the guest room.
Feeling the sweat beading on his forehead, Dean backed into the room he and Sam were sharing as fast as he could until he and Bobby finally reached Sam's bed.
It was then that the two exhausted men promptly dumped their precious but very heavy burden unceremoniously onto the double that was Sam's.
Bobby bit back a groan and took a step away as his back made it's over-taxed state known loud and clear.
As he stood about trying to alleviate his lumbago, Bobby turned to see what had become of his two young guests.
Unfortunately, Sam was still senseless where he lay unmoving slightly on his side.
Hovering over him in full worry was a helpless looking Dean.
The look on Dean's face was enough to unnerve Bobby to his very core and spurred him into action.
He rushed over to the oldest Winchester boy's side and tightly gripped the younger man's shoulder.
Though it took a good amount of firm shaking, Bobby managed to get Dean to tear his gaze away from Sam as he spoke.
" Dean, listen to me. I want you to the bathroom and soak a towel with lukewarm water, use it like one of them cold compresses. You do that while I head downstairs and see if I have any smelling salts or anything else like that. Now come on." Barked Bobby as he yanked Dean clear out of the room.
Once they were both in the hallway, he faced the young man and added with all the reassurance he could muster.
" He'll be okay Dean, now go do as I told ya."
Bobby's words seemed to fractionally calm Dean as he mutely nodded and with a last lingering look back inside the room he and Bobby had just left, Dean turned and dashed off further down the hall and then disappeared into one of the rooms.
Bobby himself turned in the opposite direction and hurriedly made for the stairs.
Flying down to the first floor of his house at record speed, Bobby barreled into the kitchen and set about plundering through the cupboards and drawers.
After a good while of cluttering and scraping about, Bobby found and item resembling what what could bring a person back to the land of the living.
This item just happened to come from the very far, far back of Bobby Singer's refrigerator.
A jar of pickled herring that Bobby vaguely recalled purchasing a while back.
Think all the way back in the year 2005 to be exact.
Wincing and not even daring to unscrew the lid, Bobby high-tailed it out of the kitchen and back up the stairs with the jar in hand.
Bobby came barreling back into his guest room to find Dean already there and dutifully sitting beside his brother, dabbing at Sam's pale and clammy skin with a water-soaked towel.
Dean looked up when he heard the sounds of someone entering the room and felt relief wash over him as his eyes fell on Bobby.
" Bobby, did ya find the smelling salts?" He shouted in askance.
" Not exactly but it will most likely do the trick." Answered Bobby as he hurridely made his way over to the Winchester brothers.
" Dean, let's prop him up against the headboard." Said Bobby as he set the jar momentarily down on the floor and proceeded to help carry out his own oders.
Dean followed suit and together they had Sam upright but slumped against the headboard of his bed.
" Alright, hold him steady and hold your nose shut if you can." Said Bobby quietly as he bent down and picked up the jar that was his impromptu smelling salts.
Grimacing and gripping the lid tightly, Bobby began unscrewing the lid with a feeling of both necessity and dread washing over him.
When the lid came loose with a small pop, Bobby nearly dropped the jar as the naturally existing odor of the herring in it's current state made itself known in all it's foul, nasal passage incinerating glory.
" Sweet mother of God!" Swore Bobby as he scrunched his face up at the smell.
He chanced a glance at Dean and found that though the younger man's face was set in stone, those green eyes were watering, and he looked to be breathing deep through his mouth.
Swallowing back the urge to hurl, Bobby focused instead on the still pressing task and what this unpleasantnesses purpose was for.
Holding his breath, Bobby leaned in close and held the jar to Sam Winchester's face.
The mouth of the jar and the offending contents it held came right under the unconscious young man's nostrils.
Bobby and Dean had to wait with bated breath for only a second before Sam's face twitched.
Then it twitched again as a frown knotted his brow, a tiny moan escaping Sam as his face began to scrunch up.
Then with a yelp, moss-green eyes were flying open and Sam's entire body was jolting away violently from the stench of rotten fish.
" SAMMY." Yelled Dean, all but diving for Sam while Bobby swiftly got out of the way, putting the lid back on the jar and then quickly dashing off to yank all the window in the room open.
" Bobby get that stuff outta here now!" Yelled Dean while Sam gagged and coughed violently.
" Easy Sammy, it's okay, you're alright. I gotcha little brother." Soothed Dean as he held Sam close and frenetically patted his baby brother's back.
It was with this last, relieving sight that Bobby ran out of the room once again, with the jar of pickled herring held as far away from his face as his arms could manage.
As though he had a live grenade in his hand, Bobby shuffled back down the stairs and dashed out the front door.
" Oh thank you God!" Cried Bobby the second he was outside, the cold air was like a breath from Heaven itself as the seasoned hunter ran to the farthest end of his front porch and set the jar down at the very corner of it.
Then with a noise of disgust, Bobby promptly whirled around and all but fled back into his house, the door loudly slamming shut behind him.
Bobby Singer finally came to a stop near the door way of his living room, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting because he was completely winded and also light headed with relief both because Sam was awake and more or less alright, and because the jar was out of the house.
When he'd caught most of his breath back, Bobby felt himself sag with weariness.
No way was he gonna make it back up those stairs to the second floor.
It felt like in less than an hour, he had aged a full decade with Sam nearly scaring him to death and then the near Olympic dash to bring the boy out of unconsciousness.
With a small huff, Bobby decided that sitting down somewhere was in order.
The seasoned hunter all but dragged himself into his living room, where today's drama had first started off.
With a soul weary sigh, Bobby made his way over to the cluttered table and all but dropped into the very chair Sam had half fallen out of into his arms earlier.
As he sat there, Bobby slumped over and breathed deep in an effort to calm himself down, the last thing he needed was his blood pressure to start giving him trouble.
It was slumping over that allowed Bobby's eyes to fall to the floor.
And from under the bill of his ball cap, Bobby caught sight of the open book that lay by his feet, the same book that had been left forgotten amidst the commotion.
" That's the book Sam was readin' before he keeled over." Realized Bobby as recognition dawned on him.
With his exhaustion fading to the back of his mind, Bobby quickly leaned down and eagerly picked the leather bound book off the floor.
As fate would have it, the book had slipped from Sam's fingers and landed on the floor open to the exact page the youngest Winchester had been reading before the words and their truth had rendered him senseless.
As he now held the same book in his hands, Bobby Singer began to read.
Within seconds, the older man's blood pressure was spiking through the roof.