Hey folks, next little bit, sorry it's a short A to B chapter but I should be back soon with more. Thanks for all the reviews, I'm sorry that I haven't replied but I've got a lot on at work at the moment (and my son is doing a school project on the PC) but I will get them done, always get an hour or two at the weekend to myself. Mary xx
It had been only an hour but Dean felt that he had been trapped inside the room for weeks.
Confined spaces and him didn't agree.
Dean liked the open road and the freedom to move when he had to. He hated the feeling of being trapped, tried not to think what it would have had been like for Sam, being in here for days, albeit mostly unaware of his surroundings.
Like now, the little internal voice helpfully supplied.
"Don't start," he mumbled under his breath.
"You say something?" Bobby looked over and took in the grey face of his companion. "Kid, I don't know about your brother but you don't look so good."
"I'm fine." Dean shuffled under his brother, his legs numb from the weight that lay over them. Sam was at right angles to him now, head resting on the pillow on his brother's lap and Dean's arm resting lightly across his chest, a comfort and a way of checking that Sam was still breathing.
Dead weight, just like the soul that's tucked up inside you, the voice sounded again.
Bobby caught the look that crossed Dean's face. "What?"
"He's here." Dean looked towards the door, hearing the laugh that circled inside his head.
How's Sammy doing there Dean? Hope you're not touching him.
Dean's other hand that had been carding absently through his brother's hair stilled. "Why?"
Just asking. "What's he saying?"
"One at a time." Dean turned to Bobby. "He's asking if I'm touching Sam."
"Why?"
"That was my question, he chose not to answer."
Not afraid you might catch something there Dean? I mean, you don't know where your brother has been? And Bobby's right, you don't look so good.
"Like you can see me." He waved Bobby off. "Not talking to you."
Bobby crossed over and knelt beside Dean. "Maybe we should put him up on the bed, you've been sitting on that cold floor to long anyway." Knocking Dean's arm out of the way, Bobby slipped his arms under Sam's shoulders and sat him up. "Think you can stand and get his feet?"
"Yeah, just give me a minute." Dean used the wall, and got up, stomping his feet to try and clear the pins and needles that attacked him the minute he did.
Once he was sure that he could stand he walked round, cleared the books from the bed and turned to get his brother's feet, trying to ignore the little stream of chatter that was building in his head.
Want me to sing Dean? Lighten the mood? Maybe see if I can drive you crazy from it before you get out of your tin can? How's it feel to be the rat in the trap there Dean? How are the hands by the way? Still giving you trouble? How's Bobby doing? Found anything useful yet? No? Well he is getting old, senility is a bitch, or so I've heard. Maybe I should whistle? Yeah. Lets do that.
Between them they got Sam settled and then Dean slumped into the chair, letting his head fall into his hands once he had, a low moan escaping him as the noise filled his head. "Any headache tablets?"
Bobby checked Sam over and then came and pushed a bottle of water into Dean's hand. "You got it?" He nodded and Bobby let go and put the tablets in the palm of Dean's other hand. "Drink it all. You hungry?"
"Nah." Dean flipped the tablets into his mouth and then drunk the water greedily, not realising how thirsty he was until he started.
"You sure that you're ok, 'cos Sleeping Beauty here's got better colour than you do and your breathing ain't sounding too good." Bobby took the empty bottle and tossed it in the bin, raising his other hand and touching Dean's forehead. His skin was clammy.
"It this room, it's too warm." Dean pulled at the collar of his t-shirt as if it was choking him. "That plus the fact that now, I've got a horseman yakking in my head."
"What's he saying?" Bobby asked an interested look on his face.
"The usual. Sam's dying, I'm dying, the world's ending. Yadda, yadda. He's also whistling, but I'll be damned if it's a tune." Dean slid his chair nearer his brother and checked Sam's pulse again. "We need to get him outta here Bobby."
"How? And where too?"
"I don't know and I don't know. I can't just sit here any longer. I don't know what the sonuvabitch did to him but I know that he ain't gonna get any better lying in here." Dean wiped at his face, digging the heel of his hand into his forehead in a vain effort to deaden the noise inside. He fished his phone out of his shirt pocket. "Will this work in here?"
Bobby smiled. "No, but this one will. Cabling for it runs through the walls." He handed Dean a cell phone that was attached to an outlet. The younger hunter just raised an eyebrow and then dialled.
It was answered on the first ring but Dean didn't even let Castiel speak. "Any joy in getting rid of our guest or getting us out of here?"
"Not yet and you are all safer where you are than you would be anywhere else Dean. It is best to stay there until I can rid us of our problem."
"How long is that gonna take Cas? Sam's slipping, I think he needs a hospital and I'm going crazy. I need to get out of here and do something other than sit on my ass!" the hunter snapped at his angelic friend.
"I will try to find Gabriel. He would be able to at least hold the horseman off until we get Sam clear, protect us when we go."
"Then why are you still talking to me and not doing it?"
Bobby snatched the phone from Dean's hand. "We'd appreciate any help that you can give us Cas," he glowered at Dean's snort. "Just call us on this number when you've got something ok?"
"I will."
Bobby hung up the phone, resisted the urge to smack Dean up side his head and walking back to the table without a word, sat down to read again.
----
"Wake up." Bobby jerked at the sound of the voice, taking a minute to realise that it was Dean.
"What'sup?" The hunter slurred as he tried to bring his brain back online.
"Sam's worse and I think the horseman's gone." Dean's face swam into focus and Bobby frowned again at the greyness of it.
"Jesus boy, you look like Hell warmed over." Bobby stood and pushed Dean down into the chair, reaching for and handing the bottle of water to him. "Drink that. I'll check on your brother. You sure he's gone?"
Dean sipped at the water, talking in between as Bobby's skilled hands checked Sam's pulse and breathing. "My head's gone quiet, kinda feels like I've gone deaf. Figure if Cas pulls Sam to the hospital now, it won't be able to find us."
"You gonna call him?" Bobby frowned at the heat under his hand as he touched Sam's forehead.
"That's why I woke you, he's outside already. I just couldn't lift Sam on my own."
Bobby let the worry that admission caused him to slip by. "Ok, let's get him up." They took an arm each and hauled Sam to his feet, the older man not mentioning that he seemed to be baring most of the weight. "You sure that he ain't trying just to bait us out?"
"No, but I don't care. Sam needs help and he isn't getting it here."
Bobby watched as Dean reached over and picked Ruby's knife up from the table, grimacing as he closed his hand round the hilt, crying out as his fingers tightened on it, albeit loosely.
The older hunter pushed his cap back on his head and put a hand on the door handle. "Ok then, once more into the breach, dear friends, once more. Let's do this."
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