Chapter 9

Dean watched with wide-eyes as his father crawled out of the room through the double doors and into the kitchen where he had just come from, his face a mask of determination. Dean knew that face; he saw it every time his father took them hunting when he and Sam were younger.

John Winchester didn't mess around when it came to a hunt…and he sure as hell didn't mess around when it came to his sons.

When John was out of sight, Dean noticed that the shots had stopped firing, and the dust from the bullets hitting the plaster had finally cleared the air. But he wasn't sure if the attacker was gone, and he didn't want to chance getting up and exposing himself and Sam.

So Dean remained on the ground by the couch, hovering over Sam protectively.

Who could possibly want to kill them? Dean had to wonder.

Sure there were a few demons that were out for their heads, and a few other nasties. But coming at them with a gun was a pretty human move.

Dean had his money on a hunter.

But why would a hunter come after them, though? It didn't make much sense.

A movement in front of Dean caught his attention causing him to look up. Relief swept through him when he saw that it was Bobby's feet coming from the kitchen. There he was crouching low to the ground, just above a crawl with a wary look on his face as his eyes scanned his living room.

When his gaze rested on Dean, he motioned with his hands telling him to gather Sam and get into the kitchen.

Dean looked down at his brothers' disheveled mop of dark hair just beneath his face, and felt his heavy uneven breathing. But Sam was in one piece, and alive - so that was good enough for him.

Slowly, Dean moved his upper body upwards until he was kneeling before his brother looking down at him expectantly. Taking the sudden lack of weight piled on top of him as a good sign, Sam sat up slowly but kept a watchful eye around his surroundings.

When he too was kneeling, he and Dean positioned themselves into a low crouch and quickly scuttled into the kitchen behind Bobby.

Once safely hidden from the window where their attacker had struck, Bobby, Sam and Dean got to their feet and stretched out the kinks that had formed from their tense muscles.

After a moment they finally relaxed, and Sam took a seat at the table – not being able to keep himself on his feet.

Dean looked back at his brother worriedly, and searched him for any visible wounds. When he was satisfied that Sam was unharmed, his eyebrows rammed together in muddled confusion.

The color had actually intensified in Sam's face, and his breathing still wasn't normal, but erratic and coming in heavy gasps as his glossy eyes blinked sluggishly.

"You alright, dude?" Dean questioned his brother.

Sam looked up at Dean with imploring eyes, before looking over at Bobby. Bobby looked down at Sam almost accusingly but didn't say a word about it.

"I will be." Sam replied, not sounding all too sure with himself.

Taking that for now, Dean nodded in disbelief before turning to Bobby who was now eyeing the both of them judgingly.

"So who'd you boys piss off now?"

"That's a good question." Dean muttered as he rubbed the dull ache in the back of his neck, "I was thinking it's more than likely human…I mean because it's using a gun."

"That's my guess too." Bobby agreed with a stiff nod.

"And I mean we don't really make a habit of pissing off other hunters." Sam quipped back irritably.

"Wait…" Dean said as he rolled his eyes, "there was Gordon."

"Gordon Walker?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Gordon Walker?" Bobby repeated looking at Dean, "When did you boys run into him?"

"A few weeks ago." Dean replied as he wiped the thin layer of sweat that had formed on his brow, "There was this vampire hunt, and it just so happened that he was already on the scene."

"So you boys should have just left it to him, and gone about your business!" Bobby yelled angrily.

"That's what I said." Sam mumbled.

"Well we stayed," Dean quipped back with a shrug, "and helped him out of a tight spot. One of the Vamps was about to chop his head off."

"Serves him right." Bobby muttered, much to Dean's surprise.

"After saving his ass we went our separate ways," Dean continued with a deep sigh, "He went to wherever he was staying, and we went back to the motel…but the Vamps were waiting for us."

"Basically…" Sam interjected looking rather frustrated, "the vampires weren't feeding on people. They were practically making themselves sick by feeding off of animals so no humans had to die. And Gordon knew, he just didn't give a damn."

"Sure sounds like him." Bobby noted as he scrubbed his hand over his gruff chin as he listened to the rest of the recollection.

"Later on, Gordon found the nest." Dean said, cutting Sam off, "And since we weren't going to kill a human, we made sure the vampires got out of that town safely, and then left Gordon tied in his own mess for three days."

"I can see why he'd be mad at you." Bobby offered with wide-eyes, "I'd be pretty pissed too."

"Yea but he had it coming!" Dean defended.

"We should have killed him." Sam commented pitilessly with a furious spark in his eye.

Both Bobby and Dean looked back at Sam pointedly; both shocked to hear such a thing come from Sam.

As the minutes progressed, Sam was looking worse and worse as a thick layer of sweat soaked his face and neck and his hooded eyes flitted back and forth between Dean and Bobby.

"You sure you're alright?" Bobby asked Sam, his eyebrow quirked as he watched the kid prepare to lie to him.

"M'fine." Sam spat tiredly.

"Come on, Sam." Dean pleaded with a wary eye-roll, "We're not idiots. I mean, come on – who do you think you're fooling? Now, what's the matter?"

"Don't worry about it Dean!" Sam snapped with a surprising burst of energy as he stared up at Dean spitefully, "We've got bigger problems!"

"Go get some rest, Sam." Dean ordered, "We'll talk about this when you're feeling better."

"I'm fine." Sam growled, "You can't tell me what to do."

"Bull." Dean accused blankly, "And yes I can."

"No you can't," Sam replied darkly, a deep and savage tone laced in his words now that Dean didn't fail to notice, "Not if you wanted to keep your manhood."

Dean stood there for a moment looking at Sam dumbfounded as Bobby tugged his shoulder back gently. Obviously Bobby had sensed that the creature that lurked in Sam's mind was now making itself known as well.

As any man would be, Dean was alarmed by the threat. He knew that Sam would never actually do such a thing. But this thing that seemed to be behind the wheel in Sam's mind at the moment? Honestly, Dean wasn't really sure.

But Dean being Dean kept his game-face on as he smirked at his little brother with phony confidence.

"That's hitting a bit below the belt, Sammy." Dean chuckled at his own pun.

Alarms sounded loudly in Dean's head as he watched Sam flex his clawed hands in waiting as he glared back at him with a ravaging hunger.

This was the same look he received from the creatures he hunted, the things he's been killing his whole life – not from Sammy, not from his little brother. This was just…wrong.

Seeing his brother this way made his game-face crumble down, as he now looked down at his Sam with a deep sense of pain and pity.

"Come on, Sammy." Dean pleaded, his demeanor completely changed, "This isn't you. I know you can fight this…whatever it is."

Sam lifted his upper lip into a light snarl, but other than that didn't reply.

"Sammy." Dean called gently as his defenses gave way and his eyes began to fill with tears.

In that moment, it was like Sam had snapped out of a trance. His hungry and pensive glare turned into one of confusion and pain as his 'puppy-dog eyes' shone through.

"D-Dean." Sam muttered weakly as the collar of his shirt darkened with the sweat that continued to pour off him.

"Sam?" Dean questioned sounding relieved as his muscles finally relaxed.

Then without warning, Sam's eyes fluttered before rolling into the back of his head. His body then suddenly collapsed in a limp mess onto Bobby's floor at his and Dean's feet.

Without hesitation, Dean fell to his knees at his brothers' side and forced Sam's upper body from under his armpits onto his lap.

"Sammy!" Dean called trying to rouse his brother with gentle taps on Sam's cheeks. But the moment Dean's had made contact with Sam's skin, his head snapped up to shoot an alarmed glance at Bobby.

"He's burning up." Dean commented worriedly.

"Damnit!" Bobby swore as his thoughts whirled with ways he could try to help Sam.

"Dean." Sam called in a terribly weak voice just below a whisper, as if he couldn't manage to make his voice go any higher.

Dean leaned in, and listened to what Sam had to say urgently.

"What is it, Sam?" Dean asked with curious apprehension.

"Hot." Sam whispered, "Too…hot."

"I know, I know." Dean chanted over and over as he tried desperately to think of anything that could bring this fever down.

Sam never got sick. Even when they were kids, the most sick either of them had ever gotten was the Chicken-Pox when Sam was three, and Dean was seven. Needless to say, Dean wasn't all too thrilled with Sam then for getting him sick.

Suddenly an idea struck Dean, and he turned his head to glance at Bobby.

"Help me get him up." Dean ordered.

"What's the plan?" Bobby asked as he grabbed Sam's legs.

"Upstairs." Dean said with a grunt as he got to his feet and hoisted Sam's upper body up with him, "Bathtub."

With little hesitation, Bobby grabbed Sam's legs and helped Dean support Sam's weight as they tried to get him to the bathroom quickly. It took longer than anticipated, when out of nervousness Dean stumbled on a couple of steps, he wouldn't necessarily trip and fall, but it would take a moment or so to straighten himself up and carry on.

"H-hurts…it…hurts." Sam muttered incoherently when Dean reached the top step.

Upon hearing his brothers' broken voice, Dean bit his lip to keep himself from crying for Sam's sake. He had to make sure he was taken care of.

Once in the bathroom, they propped Sam on the tiled floor, and leaned him up against the toilet to help him out of his clothes but decided it best to leave his underwear on – not seeing any reason to relieve him of all his clothing.

Once his clothes were shed, Bobby kicked them into the corner of the bathroom so that they were out of everyone's way so no one tripped on them. Then on the count of three, Dean and Bobby resumed their earlier positions, Dean grabbing Sam by his armpits, while Bobby grabbed his legs, and together they hoisted Sam into the bathtub. But being as Sam was much too tall; they had to make do with bending his knees a little so he could fit.

When Dean was satisfied that Sam wasn't going anywhere, he forcefully grabbed Bobby and they both ran down the stairs in a mad rush.

After a few minutes, Dean and Bobby stumbled back up the stairs and barged into the bathroom, both holding large buckets full of ice.

Dean placed his neatly on the floor with a sigh as he relieved himself of the heavy weight, but he kept his worried eyes down at his brother.

"Ready, Sammy?"

Sam looked up at Dean with weak hooded eyes as his clawed hands crossed over his chest as he grasped his own arms in a death-grip to relieve him of the pain.

Seeing what Dean was planning with the buckets, Sam nodded. His whole insides felt as if they were scorching, like a fire had been ignited inside him, and was slowly burning and melting away what he was made up of.

It was weird, but the ice definitely seemed like a good idea.

Sam nodded feverishly.

Without further hesitation, Dean lifted the bucket over the bathtub, and turned it over – causing the clear ice cubes to fill the bathtub with his little brother.

Instinctively, Sam's muscles tensed as the frozen cubes made contact with his skin. He gasped at the sudden chill that racked his body, but it wasn't long before the heat coming off him sighed with relief causing him to relax into the tub.

He looked up at his brother with glossy eyes and nodded, telling him silently to go ahead and dump the second bucket.

Dean nodded, letting Sam know that he understood and snatched the bucket from Bobby and quickly dumped more ice cubes into the tub on top of his brother and the other half melted cubes.

Again Sam gasped, and gritted his teeth as a harsh shiver coursed through his body with no mercy.

Giving Sam little time to get used to the second bucket of ice, Dean crashed to his knees beside the tub and reached in to turned the knob resting by Sam's feet, which Dean knew was the cold water. The old pipes groaned in protest, but moments later with a loud rush, the faucet released cold water.

Dean looked at Sam again and saw that he wasn't even shivering anymore, but somehow relaxed. Taking that as a good sign, Dean plugged the drain so the cold water and the melted ice couldn't escape.

Withdrawing his hand back to his side, Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he desperately tried to think of their next move.

"I'm gonna go downstairs," Bobby announced solemnly, "see if John could use my help."

Dean looked back at Bobby and nodded a small, but an appreciative 'thank you'.

Bobby nodded, signifying that he got the wordless message before he turned and walked out of the bathroom.

And then Sam and Dean were alone in the bathroom. Dean found it to be extremely awkward, all he wanted to do was cry and scream and figure out how to save Sam…but he wasn't exactly sure how coherent Sam was. And he didn't want his little brother hearing him so broken, so helpless.

"H-hurts." Sam mumbled a tired slur.

"What hurts?" Dean asked his brother worriedly.

Sam turned his bleary yet soulful eyes upward toward his brother.

"Everything."

Dean nodded, not knowing what to say or how to fix it. He was at a complete loss.

So in a feeble attempt to help Sam, Dean scooped up some of the freezing water, and instructed him to close his eyes as he tried to relieve his face of the burn that coursed through his body.

Sam obliged wordlessly, which Dean was thankful for as he dumped small handfuls of water on his brothers' face.

When he was done, Sam opened his eyes and looked back up to Dean.

Suddenly there was a sharp and urgent knock on the bathroom door followed by a harsh voice that Sam and Dean knew all too well.

"It's me!" Called John Winchester.

Sighing with relief, Dean looked down at Sam who now had his eyes trained on the ceiling as if he hadn't heard their father. Honestly, that scared the hell out of Dean.

"Come in." Dean replied shakily.

The bathroom door opened, and then their father walked in. Dean turned to get a good look at him, and saw how worried his father really was.

"What's wrong?" John asked urgently.

Dean glanced back at the bathtub, and saw that Sam's demeanor hadn't changed. So he turned back toward his father, his breath hitching as he stifled a sob.

"I-I don't know. When we got off the floor, he kept saying 'it hurts', 'it hurts'…and he's running a fever, w-worse than any fever I've ever seen. He told me to get him someplace cold…this was the first thing I could think of." Dean said, jumbling everything out of nervousness.

And then John looked past Dean, and for the first time saw his youngest son in the bathtub.

"I-it's getting worse." Dean whispered sounding defeated as he too kept his eyes on Sam.

To Dean's relief and surprise, Sam finally turned his glossy eyes away from the ceiling to look at him and their father.

"M not giving up." Sam mumbled weakly.

Understanding what Sam meant, a tear actually slid down Dean's cheek unable to be contained. He knew Sam was talking about the incident downstairs, where he snapped. And it made Dean proud that Sam wasn't going down without a fight.

"Me neither, dude." Dean replied in a hoarse voice.

Sam nodded and sank s little into the sea of ice cubes.

"I need more." Sam said sounding irritated and tired, "It's too hot."

Wordlessly, Dean nodded in understanding as he got up and walked past his father, and out of the bathroom. He hoped his dad didn't see the tears that now flowed a little more freely from his eyes.

Dean had meant what he said to Sam, he thought to himself with determination. He wouldn't give up on Sam, he would fix him…and that's all there was to it.

Sorry for the wait guys, it's been a crazy weekend. Haha. Here's chapter 9 for ya! It's extra long to make up for my absence.

What do you think? :D