More whumptober prompts! I've finally gotten caught up, so I'll be posting the rest of these over the next few days and then I'll start posting each day's prompts here at the same time I do on Tumblr :)

This one is set late Season 4

8. Fever

It was dark and he was so hot. He felt like he was burning. And that only meant one thing.

He was in Hell again.

Dean took several shuddering breaths as he fought to look around, but he didn't seem to be able to open his eyes. They felt too heavy, like it was too much of a chore to open them, but he didn't need to. He remembered what had happened. He remembered going on a hunt, getting injured—he must have died, and ended up back in Hell again. Just like Alastair had threatened.

"Please," he tried to whisper. But no one heard him. He couldn't stop the apocalypse. He wasn't strong enough to do it and so the angels had obviously given up on him. They weren't going to come for him this time. He was on his own. There was no getting out of Hell now.

A tall figure loomed over him as he tried to pry his eyes back open. "No," he whispered, pleading. "You're dead."

"That's what you'd like to think," Alastair hissed sibilantly. "But you know I can't really be dead. Not as long as you fear me, Dean. Now…what do you say we have some fun?"

"No!" Dean groaned, and fell through the blackness as Alastair's cruel chuckle followed him in his descent, the flames licking at his skin.

XXX

Sam wiped Dean's brow constantly, but it did little good. His fever had spiked again and there was nothing he seemed to be able to do about it. Had he missed something? Was Dean's wound septic?

He turned down the thin sheet he had been covering Dean with and peeled back the bandages that covered most of his left side. The wound gaped red and angry in Dean's flesh and Sam swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. Dean flinched as his wound was exposed to the air and he began to shiver again. Sam shifted closer, frowning as he saw some heavy bruising and discoloration of the wound. What if there was still something stuck in it? Maybe he had missed something. Because he had cleaned the wound, and there should be no reason for Dean to be suffering from a fever right now.

He cast his glance to the first aid kit still resting on the table from earlier and steeled himself. He didn't want to do this himself, but Dean was in no condition to be moved now and it looked like Sam didn't have much of a choice.

He took a deep breath and reached for the scalpel and a pair of forceps, hoping he was right and he wasn't just going to be torturing his brother for no reason.

XXX

Alastair's razor cut into him. Dean bit back a scream at first, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but the pain continued, and he couldn't help it. He jerked in his chains and let out a guttural scream.

"That's it, Dean, scream for me," Alastair said, pleased, as he dug deeper with the blade.

"Please stop," Dean whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I can't."

Dean's eyes flew open and there was another face hovering over him. Pained hazel eyes and shaggy hair.

Sammy.

"Sammy, no," he groaned.

"I have to do this, Dean," Sam told him, his voice flat. Dean glanced over his shoulder and saw Alastair hovering there, grinning. The demon reached out to put a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed in a gesture Dean remembered well; halfway between a 'job well done' and a 'stay, boy'.

"How do you like my new apprentice, Deano? He's quite the fast learner."

"No," Dean groaned. Sam's eyes turned black and Dean's world suddenly burst into agony once again.

XXX

Sam wiped shaking hands on a towel as he watched Dean. His brother had woken slightly when he'd started cutting into the wound, but he hadn't seemed lucid. And now he was bleeding even more. Sam had dislodged a claw from the rugaru that had attacked Dean, but it seemed to have only caused more damage. Maybe it had been too close to Dean's spleen. Sam frantically pressed a towel over Dean's wound, but he knew he was bleeding internally anyway.

Sam glanced at his phone on the side table. He could call an ambulance, but would it be able to get Dean to the hospital in time?

That left him with only one other option.

XXX

Dean could feel the strength leaving him as Alastair continued his torment, scrambling his guts with a gleeful expression on his face. Thankfully Sam seemed to be gone.

"You're dying, Dean," Alastair said. "Then you really will be mine. And there will be no angels coming to rescue you this time. I'll make sure of that."

Dean closed his eyes and felt himself slipping away, when a hand, firm and warm touched his forehead, and he gasped, feeling warmth and energy flow through him.

"Don't be so sure of that," a powerful voice rumbled.

"No," Alastair growled.

"You will not have him," the same voice said firmly. "Not again."

Then the area blew up with a light so bright Dean had to shut his eyes. All he heard was Alastair screaming…

Then he was gasping awake, eyes flying open. He surged into a sitting position, clutching at his stomach.

"Dean!"

Sam was there instantly; grasping his shoulder and leaning over him, worry on his face. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean's fingers brushed over his skin. There was blood smeared everywhere and there was a blood-soaked towel in his lap, but he didn't have any wounds and there was only the phantom of pain echoing with the nightmare.

"What the hell?" he gasped.

"You got hurt really bad on a hunt, and you got a fever—but you're okay now," Sam said, his brow pinching with residual concern. Fever—that would explain the weird hallucinations. "I had to call in Castiel to heal you."

For the first time, Dean realized the angel was standing a little behind Sam, completely silent. "Cas?" he asked, somewhat baffled. "You…you came for me again?"

The angel looked slightly confused, and Dean remembered suddenly that he hadn't actually been in Hell again. That had just been a nightmare. But before he could bluster out an explanation, Cas came over and carefully touched his shoulder like Sam had been a moment ago. "Of course I did, Dean. I am your guardian. I will always come when I can."

"Well, thanks," Dean said sincerely and Sam nodded in agreement.

Dean took a deep breath. It was going to take him a little bit to get over that, but at least he had people looking out for him. Maybe… maybe he was stronger than he thought he was.