Chapter 9

Laura felt herself brusquely pushed aside as Sam and Bobby knelt over Dean. "You have a first aid kit?" Bobby barked.

"Yes, in the trunk.." she replied, dazed. She moved to open it, and Bobby retrieved it along with an emergency blanket. She realized she knew the younger one; he was the brother. The older man was a stranger. She stepped back, out of the way, as the two of them attended their fallen companion. She heard him groan and curse as they wrapped him tightly.

Dean Winchester…once her enemy, her quarry…the rabbit in the jaws of the fox. And now her saviour. She continued to retreat from that scene, overwhelmed and beginning to react to the horror she'd experienced. She stumbled against the remains of what had been her father. No, that was wrong; it had never been him. She'd been seduced and fooled by this foul thing and she'd almost concluded a terrible, unconscionable act against an innocent person because of it. She stood over the body, stunned. A few features still reminded her of Will Brennen. But the rest was all so wrong…how could it be that she hadn't seen it? And the demon, in it's thwarted fury, had mutilated itself; or at least the flesh around itself, so that the result was a horrifying parody of her father.

Everything she'd done, everything she'd thought, for the last four years, was a mistake, a lie. She'd never had the means to avenge her family; it was all an illusion. She had, for a brief time, such an intoxicating sense of power and righteousness, but that was gone now. It was based on her own insanity, and fed on evil, until her twisted need for revenge grew and fattened like a hungry toad in her head. She stared at the ruined remains of everything she'd believed and wanted. And it lay there in a stinking heap, screaming at her that she'd regained nothing, -nothing- since that terrible day.

-Forgive me— she wept, -forgive me- Slowly, as if swimming under murky water, Officer Laura Mary Brennen drew her revolver, removed the safety, and pressed the muzzle to her temple.

Bobby saw. He shouted to Sam, who looked up from his brother and immediately tackled her. She never even had the chance to get her finger on the trigger; Sam swatted the gun from her hand and landed on her, pinning her to the ground. "Don't you f-cking dare!" he growled, "You don't get off that easy!" He hauled her up by a wrist and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her harshly. "I don't give a damn what you do, but right now we need you! Get over there and warm that car up; you're driving!" He scooped up the gun and turned away from her.

She did as he said, having no will now to do otherwise.

Bobby had staunched the bleeding, at least for the moment. "Sam, can you get him into the back seat?' he asked. Sam nodded and scooped his brother up, sliding him carefully across the unmarked cruiser's seat.

"Get that heat blasting!" the young man ordered. Laura did as instructed.

Sam knew what had to be done. He approached the thing that had been Will Brennen and kicked it over, rolling it until it slid into the ditch. Bobby joined him, with a gas can in hand. They saturated the body with fuel, stood back, and tossed a match. Within seconds it was well on its way toward immolation. Bobby headed to his truck, and Sam opened the back door of the cruiser, carefully raising his brother's head and resting it on his lap. "Follow him." Sam ordered.

Laura kept her car tight behind the ramp truck. Her mind and emotions, stunned into numbness earlier, had begun to whirl. She heard Sam talking softly to Dean; comforting, as the older brother struggled with the hurt. It was pain that she'd brought on him... Somehow she managed to keep her lane as her vision blurred with guilty tears. She stole a glance at the two brothers in the mirror. "I'm…..so….sorry."

Sam's head snapped up. "Oh, you're sorry?" His eyes flashed with bitter fury. "What exactly are you sorry for most, Officer Brennen? "

"Sam-" Dean whispered.

"For shooting him? For kidnapping him out of his bed? For trying to torture him to death? Or maybe for calling in the devil's own to help you with all of it?"

"Sam, don't-"

But Sam could not stop his angry tirade. "Would you like me to describe how it felt to hold my brother down on a barn floor, watching and hearing him scream while a bloody veterinarian dug a bullet out of him? Are you sorry for that too?"

"Sam! Leave her alone!" Dean ground out.

Sam stopped then, his throat tight with suppressed rage. The rest of the drive was silent misery, with the exception of Laura's quiet sobbing, and Dean's raspy breathing. She pulled in beside the truck as Bobby stopped at the motel. "We...we should go to emergency." Laura faltered through her tears.

"Can't." Bobby said curtly. "And you damn well know why."

She did.

Sam gathered Dean up as Bobby opened the door, and he carefully deposited him on one of the beds. Dean was trembling with cold; Sam pulled all the blankets from both beds and piled them around him, but they didn't seem to help much.

"Get those ropes off his wrists." Bobby barked to her. Laura nodded, and knelt beside him, picking at the knots and unwinding the cord; cord that mere hours ago she'd cinched tight herself. She saw the abraded impressions left on his skin, and she looked away.

Sam still seethed with anger. "Sorry, Officer; is that too hard for you to see?" he spat. "How 'bout you look at this, then?" He was unwinding the bandage from Dean's side so that he and Bobby could deal with it. The ragged wound welled with dark blood; it clung like tar to tidy little stitches, torn out and useless.

She blanched. ''Oh my god..."

"What happened, before we got there?" Bobby asked her.

She looked at him, trying to force her resisting mind back down that route. "He escaped. Daddy; that thing, knew it somehow, and we went to where it said he was. It pulled him through the glass, onto the hood of the car. He...he couldn't get free, and it said something and grabbed him, it clawed him. I made him stop, and said I wanted to do it...but I poured salt around us instead..and it worked."

"How did you know, about the salt line?"

"Dean told me, when he was still tied in the room. He said it would prove it wasn't my dad...that it would protect us... He told me to look it up. So many things were wrong; little things... I needed to find out. So I put the tin in my briefcase. I thought it was crazy, but, really, it all was. And he was right." She shuddered, remembering. "And he said the body; the demon's body, was a dead thing...that it was rotting, even though he looked...he looked so much like my Dad."

Sam turned away from her and continued his ministrations over his brother. "He was right; that body was a dead vessel. The demon would have needed something to start with; it probably got the details of your dad's appearance through reading your mind, or your memories. But there'd be gaps; things he couldn't know that would be important. Then it would've needed flesh to build with; they sometimes cause animals; goats, sheep, to abort, and they use the fetus as building material, while the cells still have life. They sort of grow it, sculpt it, into what they need. But it's a last resort, for obvious reasons. They'd rather possess a living person." He said it all so matter-of-factly, like he was discussing some normal, scientific phenomenon. She listened with revulsion, remembering it's kiss on her cheek, the times it touched her face. She wanted to throw up. But instead, Laura gathered her nerve and sat beside the bed, rubbing Dean's cold hands to restore some warmth. He turned to her and mouthed something.

"thanks."

She thought he meant for her attention to his hands, but he shook his head. "No, for ...bringing the salt...for believing me." he whispered through his chattering teeth. "Saved my butt."

Laura sat still and stared at him. She couldn't believe he was thanking her, after everything... She let go of him and buried her face in her hands.

Bobby took her aside. "Listen; we're all gonna sit down later and talk about this. There's alot we need to know, and more that you need to hear. Never mind Sam right now; you have to understand his anger. That's his only family there, and I know you understand how it feels to lose that. But listen; you can make this better right now. He needs a doctor, and we can't take him in. Can you safely bring one here, Laura? Use whatever ruse you have to, but we need one right away, and we need secrecy!"

Laura took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. I can do that. I'll go now. But I need away to contact you; I'm not sure how long it will take. What should I tell them?"

"Tell him we need some wound repair and antibiotics, and some serious pain killer. He lost alot of blood, but Sam is a match, and we just need the means to transfuse. Other than that he'll know what to do."

"Anything else? He's so cold, I can get hot water bottles-"

"Yeah, that would be a real help. And Laura, we're counting on you now. Don't let him down."

She nodded wordlessly. Bobby gave her his cell number and she left.

"You trust her?" Sam asked.

"Don't have much choice."

Sam re-bandaged the wound tightly as Dean groaned. He was still shaking uncontrollably with cold. Sam pulled off the wet clothes and concentrated on warming him.

"shouldn't have told her that shit about the demon." Dean whispered.

"Shhh. Don't waste energy. And anyway, she deserved to be shocked." Sam kicked off his shoes and pulled his coat off, then climbed under the covers with him. "I'm just warming you up, don't get any funny ideas."

"Dream on," Dean shivered- "I don't do pity dates."

All they could do now was wait, and hope, that Officer Brennen would come through.

Bobby rubbed his prickling eyes and sat watching the brothers with a sad fondness. Dean; whether having passed out are fallen asleep, had stopped shivering and was out of it, and an exhausted Sam snored softly beside him. He'd heard from Laura; she'd had to go to find a suitable doc at the regional hospital, which was over an hour away. She was waiting there now while he finished up in surgery, after which she would bring him back. He hoped they'd hurry. If that damned thing got its filthy nails into him, there was no telling what pathogens were running through his blood, and the sooner they got him on something to combat it the better. He was tired himself. He leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

The screech of a cell phone woke both he and Sam. It was Laura again, telling him they were leaving the hospital.

Sam sat up beside Dean's still form. He felt the dampness of his shirt where it was in contact with Dean's back, and he leaned over and touched his face.

"Well, hypothermia's not an issue anymore." he said grimly.

Bobby checked, alarmed at the sudden rise in Dean's temp. "Damn." It was just as he feared. Dean's skin was starting to run with sweat; little rivers of it were disappearing into his hair and the sweatpants Sam had put on him mere hours ago were already clinging to his damp body. He'd started to tremble again.

"Is she coming with help?" Sam demanded.

"They're on their way now, Sam. They have to come from Ennisville; it's an hour from here. Should be here in about 45 minutes."

"She better be." He checked and was relieved that there was no blood coming through the last binding, and settled against him again, putting an arm over Dean's shoulders to try to relay some warmth and comfort. Dean didn't seem to be aware of anything. After a while, the trembling stopped.

Sam 's worry went into overdrive. "He's getting really hot, Bobby...better get a cool cloth or something."

Bobby checked, frowning with concern, and rose to get a washcloth. He turned as Sam called out.

"Shit! Bobby, help me, he's seizing!" Sam could feel as Dean's muscles suddenly went rigid, and waves of shaking passed through him, like an electrical current. Dean opened his eyes for a moment. They were wild with fear, and he choked out Sam's name once before they rolled back.

"It's alright, Dean, help's coming! Ride it out, we're here!" Sam spoke calmly, reassuringly, as he held him still, until he felt it pass and Dean was quiet again. It was a calm that was purely illusion. "Jesus christ, what the hell is taking them so long?" Sam growled. "If she's screwing around, I swear I'll put that goddamn gun back in her hand and pull the trigger myself!"

Sam was beside himself with worry. Bobby could see the tears in his eyes. He knew his words were just that; words. He felt the same frustrated and impotent worry himself. Every minute that passed sent infection further through Dean's system, and he was too weak to battle something like that now. He feared they could run out of time at any moment.

"They're coming, Sam, they're coming. Let's get him cooled down."

He returned to his task of getting a cool, wet towel; running it over Dean's face and neck, and then his chest and arms. Dean flinched at the cold. At least it was a normal reaction.

"don't-"

"Sorry, dude; if we don't cool you down you'll spontaneously combust."

Bobby crouched to make eye contact. "Are you hurting bad, Dean? I can give you more aspirin but I can't give you anything else; might interfere with the doc's work, when he gets here."

"..rather have a drink."

Bobby gave him his preferred painkiller, holding the mug of bourbon and feeding him small sips until he was too tired to have any more. He lay back down against the stained pillow, shivering again.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah." Dean lied. In reality he felt strange, like there was a fluid layer between himself and the world. His wounds didn't hurt as much anymore, but the pain had migrated, he felt a throbbing ache under his arm, and spreading across his chest. He didn't bother telling them; there was nothing they could do. Instead he closed his eyes.

At last the much anticipated knock came, and Laura entered with her surgeon in tow.

Before Bobby could speak, she introduced them. "Sorry for the wait, we came as fast as we could. Dr. Ravindran, this is Officer Singer and Officer Winch of Philadelphia. Doctor; these men are a part of an undercover operation currently underway. The man needing attention is also an officer but I'm not at liberty to reveal his name. Officer Winch, could you fill the doctor in on what happened? With the understanding, of course, that there are areas that can't be discussed so that this investigation isn't compromised." Laura performed flawlessly. She was fully decked out in uniform; she'd obviously felt it was important to change before speaking to the doctor. It was good strategy; it added an air of official sanction and legitimacy that would have been missing if she'd been in street clothes.

Both men nodded their greeting to the surgeon.

Laura handed an electric blanket to Bobby. "Thought this would be more effective."

He nodded and put it aside. Sam filled the doc in while he went through his checks. When the man was finished, he said, "His fever is dangerously high. Blood pressure is low. Which of you is a match for blood type?"

"I am" Sam answered.

"Good." He continued his work. "Did you say he experienced a seizure?"

"About twenty minutes ago; he's been quiet since."

The doctor set up an IV. He then examined the injuries. "What exactly did he get himself into after the initial wounding? The timeline you indicated is pretty short for this level of infection."

"The graze was torn open by...well, it was torn open again. The individual responsible for that was very ...unsanitary."

"Judging from his temp, and his vital signs, he's got something nasty going through his system at the moment. I'll set him up on something strong to combat it. But he needs blood and hydration to begin with. Do you mind?"

Sam offered his arm. "We're fully compatible. We've donated to each other before."

"Good. Your colleague is pretty sick. I understand your need for secrecy and I'll honour it but I want it on record that I recommend immediate hospitalization. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes sir."

"Fine. Let's fix him up as best we can, then." The doc proceeded to sedate Dean, and he cleaned and sutured the damage. He checked the other wound, and noted that it was healing and not a danger. He started him off with a shot of powerful antbiotic, and once the transfusion of Sam's blood was complete he added an IV of more. "Well; that's as much as I can do here." he said, washing up. "Your friend here is suffering from some significant septicaemia. But the drug he's on now is specific and powerful; I think it should contain it.. Other than that, he's healing alright; at least the lower wound. The other one was a nasty tear, but it's cleaned up now. Keep checking his temp; we need to see that go down fairly soon, otherwise we may need to change to a different drug. You'll know within twelve hours if we're beating it." He wondered what was responsible for the strangely shaped bruising, but he didn't ask. Instead he packed up his things and wished them well.

Laura walked him to the car, and left him there for a moment, returning to the room. She stood just inside the doorway, watching Dean. Images flew in her mind; her father...the demon's remains. Of Dean, standing by the car, moments before she shot him...and later, his earnest insistence that he was trying to help her when he was tied and bleeding in the storage unit. She had much to answer for. She shifted her gaze to the younger brother. He looked haggard, and pale. She watched as he tugged the covers up and tucked them gently around his brother. She wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come. What could she say that could possibly make a difference...?

Bobby was watching too. He was a keen judge of humanity; he had to be. And he saw her fear, and her conflict. ...And her sorrow. He had a pretty good idea of how it all came about. The trauma she'd suffered brought her to the point where she'd considered any help to feel whole again, regardless of the source. She wasn't trained to recognize what was in front of her; few people were. And it was the nature of the demon to seduce and to deceive; it created a mantle of imagery that she desperately wanted, and needed. After her trauma, there was no way she could have known its true nature. He knew she had never meant to summon something like that. He rescued her from her need to say anything. "Thank-you, Laura. I have no doubt that you saved his life by bringing that doctor here."

She looked at him, her eyes brimming. She tried again to say something, but Bobby just shook his head and embraced her. He spoke to her in a whisper. "We'll talk about it all later. You didn't know what was really happening here, kid. This was something way out of your league. I know he won't blame you."

Any remaining walls she had shattered at that, and she sobbed quietly on his shoulder. When she could get a grip on herself, she pulled away and rubbed the wet from her face and eyes.

Bobby smiled wearily at her. "Now get that doc back to work, and then go home. Rest; call in sick, whatever; but go take some time."

She nodded. "I'll come back-"

He smiled wearily. "I know you will."