Chapter Five

Previously: John moved to the bed to try and help Mac hold Dean down. The teen's eyes were rolling as he seemed to simultaneously try to escape and curl into himself.

The drugs were quick and Dean was out before Caleb fully registered the syringe in his father's hand.

THEN: The Woods

Sixteen-year-old Dean Winchester's best friend was going to be so pissed at him. To be fair, there were rules, rules that he more than anyone had insisted upon over the years. But he hadn't ever realised how easily a situation can get away from you and how sometimes those rules don't seem to apply – until it is too late. He could really use his friend right now.

The fact that he was, once again, limping through the woods, blood and rainwater running down his flesh, hardly able to catch his breath, was not helping.

He'd been warned about it before. Being … well, Jim called it impetuous, Dad called it reckless, and Caleb called it being a pain in the ass. He knew they'd never believe him but he'd never intended to hunt. Things had just gotten out of control.

When he'd first spoken to Nicci, he hoped that the police might be right, that Brandi had just run off. He'd been worried but he hadn't had any reason to think it was a hunt. There were plenty of regular reasons a person disappeared, after all. Especially when it came to attractive and slightly wild young women.

Sharp pains assaulted Dean and, just as he thought he couldn't carry the girl one more step, the car finally came into sight. It turned out that girls were not as light as he'd been led to believe by way too many 'damsel in distress' scenes on TV. "Suck it up Winchester," he admonished himself, pressing on towards the vehicle, despite the lacerations in his leg that made moving hard.

The voice in his head was not his own but his father's. If Caleb was going to be pissed, it was nothing to what his father's reaction would be.

Ok so perhaps his emotions had got the better of him slightly. After he heard they'd found Brandi's body he'd felt a hot fire bubble in his stomach. Her warmth, her light, her laughter, had been snuffed out by cold, dark, evil. He blinked water from his eyes - it was just the rain damn it, just the rain.

But he'd still been convinced that the perpetrator had been human, which was not Brotherhood jurisdiction. So, he'd not called anyone. He was only trying to figure out what happened. He hadn't intended to go after whoever hurt her, not really. He leaned into a tree to stop a stumble becoming a fall.

He could picture the disappointed expressions of the Scholar and the Guardian. But what was he supposed to do? When he'd first met her, she'd seemed like a nice girl. One who seemed more likely to hang with Sammy's nerd crowd than with a girl like Brandi. Apparently, being nice didn't stop her taking off, right into the danger zone. He'd got a message from Nicci saying she was going to look for clues. And they called him reckless! There had been no time to do anything but go after her.

Just as he felt the car was in reach of his hand, Dean tripped and went down onto his knees. He gasped, trying not to drop the unconscious girl in his arms.

He closed his eyes for a minute. 'You're okay, up you get.' He looked at Nicci's pale, lax face. Her hair was stuck to her forehead from the rain, just the way Sammy's did. 'You don't get to quit.'

It was weird that the woods felt less threatening, now he knew there was some freaky monster in them, than they had when he'd arrived. At that time, he's only found Nicci's car without her in it. He had been flooded with a nasty ominous feeling that he could only blame on the fact that he'd rarely been in woods without something nasty waiting in the dark, even if it was just his dad armed with wax marking rounds.

He found her quickly, kneeling near the police tape, sobbing into her hands as rain poured down on her, but not quickly enough. A large dark shape was stalking towards her from the shadows, its form and movement marking it as distinctly 'other'.

There was no time to call anyone at that point, there was just him and Nicci and the monster. He'd had no idea if his gun would have any effect but he'd fired anyway. Nicci had been knocked out by the – whatever-it-was - and it had quickly turned on him. The bullets didn't do much damage, but they did piss it off. Once confident it was determined to come for him, the girl forgotten, Dean had run. It was fast and he doubted he could outrun it but he kept it away from Nicci, better him than her.

"That thing is out there looking for someone to kill."

He'd got lucky, at least he'd thought so at the time. Apart from a swipe that caught the back of his leg, he'd managed to escape serious injury. Four further bullets, into its face at close range, hadn't killed the thing but it had howled and run off.

So, if you thought about it, right up until he'd seen that thing running at the kneeling, sobbing form of the young woman, there had been no reason to call anyone. He'd still been sure he could figure out what happened to Brandi and get back to the motel without his dad being any the wiser, probably with a day or two to spare.

He started Nicci's car as she groaned in the passenger seat. Terror nearly loosened into vomit at the reassurance she was at least alive.

But then things had gone from bad to worse.

He eventually made it back to the Peppermint Rabbit, after dropping Nicci and her car at her place. It was as he sat on the edge of the old bathtub, trying to patch up what he could reach of his leg without leaving blood everywhere, that he started to feel the pressure in his head.

With his eyes watering from the sting of the holy water, and pressure in his brain, it was hard to think. At least Nicci hadn't been scratched, she'd only had a bump on the head. He remembered something she had told him. Brandi had said something about 'him' being in her head. Nicci had thought her friend was referring to a boyfriend gone bad or an over-keen customer, but this thing must have got a swipe at her some time earlier. And it obviously had psychic abilities.

He tried to take stock. His 'innocent check' was now a full-blown hunt and he was infected by whatever freak had killed Brandi. Much as he knew he should, much as he desperately wanted to, he realised he couldn't call for help now.

"You have a responsibility to stop it, right Dean?"

His dad would kill him, unless he could 'clean up his mess'. No dad meant no Jim or Mac, either one would call the Knight the second he contacted them. He trusted Caleb wouldn't sell him out but he couldn't have his best friend anywhere near this thing. He'd sat beside Damien's hospital bed enough times to know psychic monsters and psychic hunters didn't mesh well.

First things first, he needed to block the mental intrusion. He had some obsidian in the bottom of his bag, it might give him some protection until he could fashion something stronger. He also needed to do research, figure out what this thing was and how to kill it. He'd need money, for medical supplies, for psychic protections, for ammo. Which meant he needed to keep working at the club. He checked the calendar. Assuming Dad would be gone for a week, he still had a couple of days. He'd just have to go back to the woods, kill the thing, then get back to the motel before Dad.

The days passed.

He'd had no luck identifying his prey, and his leg refused to heal. He'd been pretty sure from the start, the wound had some sort of supernatural infection; holy-water fizzed and stung like a bitch. He repeated the treatment morning and night, which seemed to prevent it from getting worse at least. He also had to keep upping his psychic protections. He lost track of the days, focused on keeping that thing out of his head and finding a way to kill it.

When Caleb had walked into The Ace of Spades, the sense of relief was tainted by the risk to his friend. He worried that, despite his hex bags, on some level he'd called out to the person he so desperately wanted to talk to and in doing so had drawn his friend into danger.

The combination of rejecting his own weakness and his fear for Caleb had him determined to chase the psychic off. But then his father had appeared and he'd known, all bets were off.

They needed to know. Everything. How badly he'd screwed up. The monster was still out there, calling …

SPNBROAU

NOW: The Peppermint Rabbit

Groggily, Dean moaned, trying to pull himself from the haze, even though he knew the pain he was in would at least double once he did.

He tried to move but couldn't. They had to know. He tried again, there was a pressure holding him down. They had to know it was still out there. He tried to fight but his body was not cooperating. His protection was gone. Damien had to leave. He managed to get his eyelids to work, slightly. He'd hurt it. His head moved. It was furious. His throat managed a sound but not words. Psychic.

"Deuce?" A cool hand brushed over his forehead. "You with me?"

He tried again. Panic, at the need to communicate the threat, flooding his mind but having little impact on his ability to move. Pain assaulted his body and synapses in a simultaneous two-pronged attack.

"Hey, hey, hey, relax. We know. We'll take care of it," Caleb soothed.

Relief, or something else, eased the pain and brought a moment of clarity.

"Rude … t' … read," Dean managed to mumble out through uncooperative lips. He heard Caleb chuckle.

"Not as rude as taking off on your own and getting yourself poisoned."

There was a slight bite to Caleb's words but the soft hand on his head continued too. Dean automatically turned into it but was careful to counteract the movement with another mumble.

"Such a girl."

Dean's words were barely comprehensible and Caleb got the comments more from what he read than what he heard. He was just glad the kid was somewhat coherent despite the psychic assault he was under. The fever had reduced but not gone. Mac had warned it could return before Dean got better.

Dean's body relaxed and Mac touched Caleb's arm in comfort, confirming it was the drugs. The psychic slipped a hex bag back over the teen's head. He hated the way it muffled his link to the boy but if it protected Dean from whatever was trying to mess with him, it was worth it. Killing this thing came first.

That was the only reason he'd agreed to the Knight's plan, to remove the protection long enough for him to get a read on what Dean knew. He tried to organise the rush of thoughts and memories he'd picked up, filter out the important parts.

"Well?" John demanded impatiently as Dean went limp again. "Tell me you got something," he pushed. He had loathed putting his son through the pain of exposure but could live with it if it gave them what they needed to hunt this freak.

"A vague image, and the fact that it's psychic and pissed, nothing we didn't already know or couldn't have guessed," Caleb stroked Dean's head again. "He doesn't know what it is." There was apology in Caleb's eyes, as if he had failed somehow.

"Pissed?" John queried, looking between the two boys.

"Dean shot it. Just regular rounds. It didn't do much good."

John nodded. It wasn't particularly helpful but everything they learnt got them closer to identifying it.

"You said you got a vague image," Mac queried, checking Dean's vitals. He hadn't liked giving the teen more sedative but it was the best option given the attack Dean's body was under. The brief window when the pain was lessened but before he fell unconscious had been Caleb's opportunity. Though in all honestly Mac was surprised Caleb had been able to reach Dean at all, even with their connection.

"Yeah, beastlike, four legs, big tail thing …" Caleb waved a hand over his head indicating a cover of some kind. He stopped as he saw the look on Mac's face.

"That's what I was afraid of," the Scholar looked troubled as he directed his eyes anywhere but his son.

John focused his demanding gazed on him.

"I think this is a Succarath scratch," Mac said looking up with a worried expression. "They have a large tail that they use to shield the young that cling to their backs. If I'm right, the beast will have been trying to mess with Dean's head ever since he got it. Which was several days ago at least."

"But you can fix him, right Dad? Now you know what it is," Caleb's voice gave him away.

Mac didn't want to look his son or his friend in the eye. "I need to call Jim," he said, pushing himself up and standing. "I have notes at the farm. I think there are some herbs that can help." He tried to offer his son a smile. "Stay with Dean."

"He said he used holy water," John explained.

Mac paused and turned back. "Really? That's good to know. From what I remember, the lore only says it doesn't stop the infection, but if it slows it, it's worth noting, especially for when a hunter is far from help."

"Can we discuss adding Deuce's latest guinea-pig impression to the archives after we fix him," Caleb snapped. It wasn't the first time they'd learnt new lore due to the boy's ability to get himself into trouble.

SPNBROAU

NOW: The Marriott

Relocating to the Marriott had not happened as soon as they would have liked. John had been all for slinging the kid over his shoulder and just carrying him. Sure, no one raised a hair when you carried an unconscious, bleeding kid away from a strip club. They sure as hell raised eyebrows if you tried to carry one into a five-star hotel though. Mac insisted they wait until the sedative wore off and they could check the hex bags John had provided were working.

Once awake. Dean was able to be conscious without crippling psychic pain but either because of the effects of the injury and fever, or just being confronted with his family, he was silent and somewhat discombobulated. He also seemed exhausted and fell asleep on journey and again on the couch a moment after they got him into the room and seated.

Caleb wasn't much better. The psychic was running on fumes and though the pain in his head had not reached migraine level it was still enough to carve furrows into his brow. Mac fussed over him while John buried himself in the hunt, spreading paperwork over the whole of the large coffee table and half the floor.

A loud whimper from Dean interrupted a momentary silence, pulling Caleb up from the bed where Mac had only just got him to sit. Moving to the doorway so he could see the couch, they watched as John's hand reached back to rest on his son's head.

"Easy Ace, you're fine, you're safe," he murmured to the agitated kid who was flinching in his sleep. At his father's touch, Dean started to calm. John seemed to recall there were others in the room. He scowled and removed his hand, refocusing on the case. He had notes Joshua and Bobby had provided, Mac's notes that Jim had faxed through, as well as maps of the area where the girl, Brandi, had been found, all spread before him.

Caleb and Mac shared a look but said nothing. Neither really understood why John seemed to think his affection for his children was some sort of secret that should not be openly displayed. They did know his current foul mood was a combination of worry for his son and frustration at the delay in going after the Succarath. Jim had insisted any plan get a go order from him before it was actioned.

When the phone rang, John glared at it. Dean's eyelids flickered, the shrill bell waking him.

As he pushed himself upright, Mac came over, receiver in hand.

"It's Sam," he held the handset towards the disoriented looking teen.

Comprehension quickly came to Dean's eyes and he took the phone.

"Sammy, are you okay?" his voice was a little croaky and he cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together.

"OF COURSE I'M OKAY, I'M NOT THE ONE THAT WENT MISSING! WHERE WERE YOU? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?"

"I see all that work on Samuel's inside voice was time well spent," Mac smiled at John whose head had popped up from his notes as the yelling exploded across the room.

"Chill dude, I'm fine," Dean managed in a better approximation of his usual self.

"Really fine or Dean fine?" Sam demanded.

"Really fine."

There was a sceptical pause.

"Where were you?"

"Hanging out with some strippers," the teen grinned, caught sight of his dad from the corner of his eye and instantly straightened his face.

"Be serious Dean. Caleb was looking for you."

"It was a job Sam, I'm fine, and Damien found me."

"Why weren't you with him or with Dad? Who were you with?" There was suspicion and the threat of more yelling in the twelve-year-old's tone.

"Bobby and stupid Josh are working the case too," Dean said. He looked up hoping to catch his best friend's eye, feeling quite clever in his not-lie, before remembering Caleb was mad at him and looking away again.

"You didn't call me," Sam said, now sounding more like the little boy that reared his head less and less as the years passed.

"You told me not to!"

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU LISTEN TO ME?"

Dean winced and held the phone further from his ear for a moment.

"Sammy, calm down. Mac got us a room at the Marriott, you can call me here, okay?"

"Maybe I should just come there."

There was a moment of silence during which Dean refused to look in his dad's direction.

"Caleb said you were enjoying it," he finally hedged.

"Caleb's a dickhead."

"So you're not enjoying it?" Dean challenged, knowing what the sulky edge to his little brother's tone meant.

There was a pause before Sam spoke again. When he did it was quieter, almost a whisper.

"I put Morris down with one punch, that was kinda fun."

"Morris?"

"He's in my squad. He kept sticking his nose where it didn't belong, so I rearranged it for him."

"That's my boy," Dean grinned. Sammy might not be as quick to use violence as he was, but he knew the kid liked having the skills to give him the option when it was needed. "You've only got a couple of days left, suck it up until then and we'll see you at the farm after." There was silence on the other end of the line and Dean knew Sam was still wavering.

"But …"

"Just do what you've got to do."

"Dean."

"What kiddo?"

"I miss you."

There was an expectant pause. Dean pursed his lips. He knew his brother was daring him with the overt love-fest. He had never felt comfortable with declarations of affection and Sam had offered them less as he grew older, reserving them for moments when he could make his big brother uncomfortable.

"Yeah, yeah, you pansy, just ace the final campaign, and get your ass home, okay? It's hard work irritating Dad by myself."

Sam snickered. It was typical Dean. It was enough.

John lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at his firstborn.

"It is true that a knight must be kept on his toes, and not be allowed to slip into easy-going nonchalance," Mac mused, drawing the man's focus.

"Not much chance of that."

John glared at Caleb who had echoed the words in unison with the Knight, though with a somewhat different sentiment.

Sam listened to the banter down the line and suddenly wished beyond anything that he was with his family.

"Can I talk to Dad?" He asked, without having really decided to do so.

Dean was surprised but not nearly as surprised as John when Dean held the phone out to him.

"Sammy, is everything okay?" Dean had seemed calm but now John felt his senses tingle.

"Yeah," Sam said. It wasn't everything he wanted to say but like Dean's teasing he hoped it was enough.

John took a breath and blinked quickly, turning slightly from the others in the room to stare out of the large full-length window that gave a view of the city. "How's camp?" he mumbled gruffly.

"I got full marks on the theory paper."

John rolled his eyes.

"Of course you did." He shook his head. "Are you keeping your perimeter warded?" He added more seriously. John had a hunter keeping close watch but Sam's best line of defence was himself. The responding sigh was subdued, as if Sam had tried to keep it in.

"Is Dean really okay?"

"Yes."

"Is he going to stay okay?"

"I haven't decided yet." There was no point in worrying Sammy regarding the ongoing threat of the Succarath when there was nothing the kid could do. But letting him think there may still be a threat to his brother from their father's wrath, would ward off any suspicion the suggestion that all was fine might have garnered. The white lie garnered John a small smile from his first born.

SPNBROAU

AN: Hello *waves* My apologies for the naked post last time, I was away visiting friends. Although the chapter was written, I only had a moment to post it so no time for notes. As always, a huge thank you to Meilean for her amazing support and help as well as love and hugs to everyone for reading, even more for those of you kind enough to follow/like and most especially for the special gems that review. I hope everyone is well and still enjoying the story xx ❤️