Dean felt so bad; his gut was telling him something terrible was going to happen.
Sam coughed in his semi unconscious state.
Oh God, not a coughing fit.
"A tear rolled from the corner of Sam's eye and traced a path down against
his temple. He got more restless and coughed again. "'orry …it' hur's dea'…(cough).... Sorry…"
"Sam! Wake up……Where does it hurt, tell me Sammy." Dean wanted to know. Not that he could do anything, but he needed to know.
Sam was familiar with pain since he was very young, but this was so crushing and unbearable. He had never experienced pain like this before, his whole body aching. All of his joints, limbs and organs hurt. His skin was burning and he felt hot from inside out. He curled on his side bringing his knees to his chest. The washcloth on his forehead fell on the pillow. Dean picked it up. Sam wanted to run away from the pain and hide in a safe place. He curled in on himself as sob escaped his lips.
Dean desperately wanted to help his brother, but he knew nothing could be done. He had to wait till they could find a way.
A few hours later, Sam was still shaking with the pain and fever. Dean had tried to turn him on his back and work to take his fever down. But Sam would whimper and protested every touch and change in his position. Dean constantly talked to him and tried to comfort him, but Sam wasn't coherent enough to understand.
It was almost six in the morning and the gloomy dawn was breaking the darkness of cold night. It wasn't welcomed to Dean. It was morning and he still couldn't find anything to help his brother. The light that was crawling from the window in the room was taunting him. He had let his brother down. He had promised him to make thing alright, but still he was sitting there doing nothing.
What if this doomed day turned into another night and he still couldn't find anything?
Sam was praying for the empty darkness to fade his pains away, the pain that was getting more and more unbearable by minute. He knew it wasn't the pain that was increasing; it was his endurance that decreased.
He was afraid that sooner or later he lose this fight and start begging for pain to stop. For a moment in his unclear fevered mind he saw Dean being ripped apart by hell hounds. He was worried about Dean; it was probably the hardest thing for Dean to see him tormented. He had this experience himself; he had to watch his brother being ripped to shreds in front his eyes. It was the hardest thing in his cursed life to watch his brother scream in pain. He had seen it every night in his nightmares. So, no, he wasn't going to put his brother through what he had experienced. He wasn't going to cause his brother more pain and suffering. There was no escaping from it, he had to face it. Life always got harder, it never got easier. He had to keep fighting as long as possible, not a moment less, he had to fight to the last second, even if he died after that.
So he tried to open his eyes and look at Dean. For a few minutes all he could see was hazy colors. But then, his vision cleared minutely and he saw Dean sitting next to him, watching him with excessive concern. The look on Dean's face broke his heart. How could he leave his brother alone?
He couldn't take enough air into his burning lungs to talk, so he stretched his hand on the mattress to reach out for his brother. Dean took his hand immediately. No words needed, Dean knew what his brother meant.
"You are gonna keep fighting, right Sammy?" Dean asked hopefully.
Sam blinked slowly. 'Yes'
"Good kiddo. Good." Dean blinked back the tears. He hadn't called his brother kiddo for years, but Sam was his baby brother, whether he was three years old or twenty.
Sam felt stronger already - where there is hope there is life, except hope always comes back to bite Winchesters in the butt.
A blinding pain exploded in Sam's head behind his eyes. He flinched from the sudden pain and instinctively yanked his hand from Dean to press on his temple.
Yes. They didn't expect this.
"Sam!" Dean called terrified.
Sam felt that sharp pain and for a moment he thought he was going to have a vision. But the pain intensified and he just saw darkness.
Dean watched his brother shocked, he was tossing his head from side to side to escape from the pain.
"Ahhhh…" Sam moaned. Silent tears escaped his eyes and splashed into the pillow under his head.
oo0oo
Ann and Mary were in the next room waiting. Waiting to see what destination had for them in its grasp. When they heard Dean call Sam's name with urgency, they knew they had no choice but to use the drug they had prepared last night. They rushed into the room.
Mary put the medicine kit on the small table in the room and brought out one of the two syringes and a small bottle of a clear liquid. She quickly took off the syringe's protecting tip and thrust it in the rubber head of the bottle to withdrawal some drug.
Dean was looking at her curiously. "What is this?"
"Morphine." Mary said with hesitation. She still wasn't sure it's such a brilliant idea. She looked at Dean to see his reaction.
Dean wasn't completely sure what to do, but he was more than willing to try. He nodded his agreement.
"Hold him his arm still." It wasn't the first time she had done it. She had done it several times for her father last summer when he was recovering from a painful illness. But she was more scared this time and her hands were shaking.
Dean yanked Sam's upper body in his arms. Sam still was moaning and gasping in pain, but didn't fight his brother.
Mary took the alcohol swap Ann had taken from the kit and disinfected the crook of Sam's arm. Then she tried to find a good vein to inject the drug. She pushed the needle in the skin, Sam tried to draw back his arm from the additional pain, but Dean held his arm with a tight grasp, maybe even tighter than necessary. She pressed the plunger down slowly and injected the whole drug, then took out the needle and waited to see the effect.
The effect was instant. Sam stopped moaning and whimpering in Dean's arms, the frown on his forehead eased as he closed his eyes. The only thing he felt was a sting in his arm and an instance pain free comfort before the nothingness.
oo0oo
Dean eased Sam on his back on the bed and covered him with the bedspread, and returned to his work of keeping Sam's fever under the control. He placed another cold washcloth on Sam's sweat soaked face.
"You didn't find anything, did you?" Dean asked in a low voice without taking his eyes off of Sam.
"Sorry Dean." Mary whispered. Ann stood there looking on the floor.
"We have to make the deal." Ann said. The sooner they face the reality the better.
Dean didn't know what to do. Now he even wanted more badly to kill Al for the painful night Sam had went through.
Suddenly they heard footsteps from the outside hallway. Ann felt fear and she backed slowly away.
Dean's gut tightened, something wasn't right, something WAS going to happen.
All the doors were locked and salted.
Dean felt a chill run up his spin. He stood up, eyes growing wider. Something was inside the house. He took his gun from the back of his waist band. Fear clutched at his gut.
And the footsteps got closer and closer to the open door.
TBC
Short chapter, I know, but I promise I update sooner to compensate. It just felt right to end.
Do me a favor. Please review. (Puppy dog eyes, even huger than Sam's eyes.)