Cas carried Dean to the bunker's infirmary at Sam's request. He imagined Dean wouldn't approve, but the angel agreed that it was likely the best place for him. Sam meanwhile forced himself to his feet, and tried to calm his racing thoughts enough to develop a workable game plan.

He headed for his lap top first, knowing he'd need it just for basic research. He hesitated for a moment, feeling a need to do more, to get more. He walked on autopilot to his brother's room, looking around and trying to figure out if there was anything he should bring with him. He sighed slightly, knowing nothing was important enough to keep delaying what he needed to do.

Sam wandered back towards the infirmary, and held his breath, hoping he'd turn the corner and his brother would be awake, alert and oriented. It hurt more than it should have when he entered the medical room to find Dean unconscious on one of the cots, a fallen angel watching over him.

"No change?" Sam prompted, gently.

Cas shook his head. "Nothing yet. He sustained an injury to his tongue and some bruising from his contact with the floor. I healed those when we got here."

"I think that's normal… I mean for… for after a seizure." He opened his lap top, sitting at the desk nearest Dean. First things first he had to research seizures. "Do you know how long he was um…"

"Three minutes and twenty nine seconds."

"Okay." Sam breathed. "Not the worst." He didn't sound convinced at all. "What happened before… you called me."

"He said he could smell something, and hear something." Cas replied.

"Did he say what?"

The angel shook his head. "No, but he seemed quite distressed."

Sam kept reading the screen, and was silent for a few moments. "I think that's normal. Before the seizure. It's called an aura?" He seemed to question it, looking to Cas for answers he knew he didn't have. "I still don't know what caused it in the first place."

Dean stirred on the bed, and both men immediately shifted their attention. Sam pulled his chair over to sit beside his brother.

"Dean, you awake?" Sam found himself hoping yet again.

Green eyes opened into slits, fighting against the harsh brightness of the room. He groaned. "What the fuck-"

Sam let out a breath. "Do you know where you are?"

"The bunker unless something changed." came the gruff response. Dean shifted on the bed, pulling himself upright despite Sam's attempt at pushing him back down. He looked around a moment, seeming disoriented. "The infirmary?"

Sam nodded slowly. "What do you remember?"

Dean closed his eyes, trying to recall events, but finding his memories fuzzy at best. "You were bitching about me eating or drinking something." He furrowed his brow. "Nothing after that…" He looked up and took note of Sam and Cas' worried expressions. "Why, what'd I miss?"

"You had a seizure." Sam told him, feeling the sense of deja vu from earlier.

"What?" Dean asked, but this time he seemed alert, just disbelieving.

Cas stepped in. "I found you in the kitchen, and you began hallucinating again. I called for your brother and you collapsed right as he walked in."

"It was pretty intense." Sam said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He tried to keep his tone light, but Dean could read the fear in his younger brother's eyes. "You weren't breathing for a minute or two after." He added, his voice softer now. "Uh, then you started again. You were awake for a bit, but you weren't really aware."

Dean took a moment to process what was being said to him.

"We brought you here. I wasn't sure if you'd get worse." Sam explained when he received no response. "I hope that's okay."

"Yeah." Dean said, distracted. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry."

"How do you feel now?"

The older hunter frowned. "Not, you know, worse than before. But you know. Before sucked, so take that as you will." He took a deep breath. "Actually my head feels worse, and I could probably sleep for a few days."

"Yeah, well your brain did just basically short circuit for a while."

"True. Any luck figuring out what is doing all this?"

"Honestly I was mostly trying to make sure it didn't kill you immediately." Sam pulled himself to his feet, wandering back to his computer. "I don't really know what I should focus on first."

"A cure might be nice."

"Yeah, sure, but I don't even know where to start looking. And you're getting worse fast."

"And?"

Sam spread out his hands. "And I don't know if maybe my time would be better spent trying to find a way to get us out of here. Find you some real medical help."

"Medical help isn't going to do much good against whatever supernatural boogeyman worked its mojo on me."

"It might get you breathing again if you have another fit." The young hunter shook his head. "You scared the shit out of me, man. Cas can't find anything wrong with you, and I don't know how to help you if that happens again."

Dean wanted to argue, but he was silenced by the twinge of desperation in his brother's voice. He took a moment before letting his shoulders sink. "Okay Sammy. Why don't you start there." He turned. "Cas, can you gather up some books on general supernatural sickness? I can make myself useful by browsing through those."

Cas nodded, heading off down the hallway.

"We're not going to leave you here alone." Sam warned.

"Whatever you gotta do." Dean figured he would argue this lack of freedom later, but for right now he just wanted to help put Sam's mind at ease a bit.

"We'll figure this out." Sam said firmly, though Dean suspected it wasn't for his peace of mind. "You'll be okay."

"I know." He watched his brother leave the room.

Dean remained in the infirmary the entire day at his brother's insistence. He flipped through books, trying to find any mention of something that could be causing his maladies. Cas had read of over a dozen possible matches, but each of them could be easily ruled out, and so far had been. Meanwhile Dean seemed to be on a steady decline.

By the time Sam came and relieved the angel, Dean was wrapped in a blanket, shivering violently, and still sweating as if he were in a sauna. He had a book loosely in his hand, but it was obvious he wasn't reading it. "Hey." He greeted, trying to keep his voice soft.

"You look like crap." Dean managed.

Sam gave a humorless snort. "Back at you." He heaved a great sigh, sinking into the chair beside Dean's bed. "I must have gone through thirty books, and I'm no closer to getting us out of here."

"What about that spell? That thing we did last time that would have worked if Ketch wasn't such a pain in the ass?"

"It works against a mechanical lock down, but this is a spell keeping us in." Sam shook his head. "I read it over again and again trying to find a way of making it work. It just won't. And the place we broke through last time collapsed entirely all the way to the surface, so we can't bust through there again."

Dean nodded. He rubbed a trembling hand over his face. "How long has it been since my seizure?"

"Twelve, maybe thirteen hours." Sam looked at his watch. "Why?"

"I can't keep track. My head's all over the place."

Sam looked at his brother, his chest tightening as guilt took root. He wanted to have found a way to help already.

"Hey, listen." Dean interrupted his thoughts. "Listen to me. You're doing fine. I'm here, I'm okay. You're doing good." he managed, his voice strained with effort.

Sam looked down and his mouth twitched into a sad half smile. "Figures."

"What?"

"You're practically on your deathbed, and you're comforting me."

Dean flashed an exhausted but wide smile. "That's a big brother's job."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a moment just to breathe. The day felt like it had dragged on for an eternity.

"Hey, if this does go sideways. If nothing works, I want you to know it's okay. I'm okay with it."

"Don't say that." Sam warned.

"I just mean… maybe it's for the best."

Sam glared at his brother. "What, you want to die?"

"No, that's not-" Dean struggled to get his thoughts in order and was surprised that his first instinct was agreement. He worked hard to shake that off. "I just mean, sometimes… things… you know."

Sam shook his head. "Let's not… talk about that. Instead let's work on fixing the problem. Or escaping the problem. Or both." He struggled to keep his voice even against the fear, sadness, and anger his brother's words were dredging up.

Dean nodded, but grimaced against another wave of pain. "God, I just want to stop shaking." He allowed Sam to hold up a glass of water and took a reluctant sip. "And I keep seeing shit."

"Cas told me."

"Lights flickering, shadows moving. It feels like the whole supernatural freak-show got invited to the bunker, except it's just me, and I can't even move."

"Want me to slice open your hand so you can press it and bring yourself back?"

Dean let out a genuine laugh at the joke. "Not just yet. I start seeing Lucifer, maybe we'll talk."

"Is anything getting better, or is it all just getting worse?" Sam asked gently.

"I haven't had a seizure since this morning. So that's something. Otherwise though…" He hadn't managed to keep even a sip of water down, and he could already feel this last one threatening a repeat. His head hurt so much it almost felt numb. His body couldn't tell if it was hot or cold so it just set off alarm bells for both. And his entire body was shaking so violently the bed creaked against the wall. "I felt better as a hellhound's chew toy."

Sam winced at that statement, and Dean threw him an apologetic glance. "Nothing in the books, huh?" The question was rhetorical. Sam knew if there were any leads Cas would have told him. "Greatest collection of occult knowledge in the world, and nothing to show for it."

"Don't beat yourself up. They expected this place to be a well stocked medical fortress. They didn't mean for it to be run by three idiots. The lockdown was probably a pretty safe bet for them." He didn't manage to bite back another hiss of pain, his hand heading towards his chest.

Sam frowned, standing and coming closer to Dean. "You good?" He grabbed Dean's wrist and started taking his pulse.

"My heart is racing, and I can feel it in my chest. It's just… weird."

"Yeah. It's going pretty fast. Still, at least it's going." Sam returned to his seat. "Hey. you should try to get some rest."

"Speak for yourself." Dean prompted.

"Dude, it's like 7pm."

"And you woke up early. And you're going to be up all night nerding through books. And you look exhausted." Dean didn't mention the unspoken reason. And if I get worse, you won't let yourself rest later.

Sam heaved a deep breath. "Fine." He relented. He stood, going right to the next bed over.

"Come on man, your room is like right down the hall. You don't have to lay on these crap beds."

"This is the compromise." Sam said, staying firm as he laid back on the too-small bed. "Take it or leave it."

Dean pulled a face, but he let himself slip back down, giving into the pull of exhaustion. He didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep, but he could at least rest as soundly as possible.

Satisfied, Sam let himself relax a bit of the tension pent up in his body. Listening to Dean's steady breathing, he managed to let himself slip into a light sleep.

He'd figure it out. He knew he would.