Chapter 4
Summary: A hunt now uncovered, the boys' trip to Jody's becomes complicated. On top of that, Dean's health begins to worsen now that their routine has been broken. A mysterious warning from Cas, a loving Jody, and rising stakes all make guest appearances.
A/N: I hope you are all staying safe and trying to find sanity during quarantine through fanfic. I know I am. Another way I'm keeping busy is by writing SPN songs. Please check out my videos…(hopefully if you like this story, you'll like the song too). Link in my profile
Apologies for the long notes and annoying self-promotion…
Enjoy!
A/N: The pacing of this chapter is a little odd-sorry about that.
Picks up right where chapter three left off, on the side of the road.
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"You're sure this is a hunt?" Sam was gentle with his questioning but bold enough to ask it in the first place.
"An I'nuit c'reat're. H'f m'n, h'f w'lf. L'gend s'ys 'ey 'nt 'eir 'gr'nd'fer...t' one 'at 'unted 'em 'fter d'scvring w't 'ey 're." An Inuit creature. Half man, half wolf. Legend says they try and kill their grandfather...the one that hunted them after discovering what they were.
"The missing old men…" Sam understood how Dean came to his conclusion and bobbed his head back and forth considering the legitimacy. "We'll fill Jody in when we get there and see if we can't find more, ok?"
Dean smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Y' know 'eres 'unt." You know there's a hunt
"I'm not admitting to anything, Dean. We'll see."
Dean mocked his brother by nodding in sarcastic agreement.
"S-sure."
Sam feigned displeasure but was secretly thankful to receive his brothers' stupid glee; Sam hadn't forgiven himself for his snide remark about playing cherades, even if Dean had. After a beat, Sam shifted and began wondering if it was time to get back in the car. Noticing that Dean had made no effort to move, Sam was concerned that he still didn't feel well.
"You still feeling sick?"
"N't 't 'moment bt g'nn be 's 'soon 's I g'et in h c-car." Not at the moment but I'm gonna be as soon as I get in the car.
"Let's not rush to Jody's. Besides, if you show up at her doorstep overtired and grouchy she's never gonna want to invite us back." Sam ended the comment with a smirk before continuing. "We'll get a room tonight and we can finish the trip in the morning."
"Y'eah. 'Pr'bly g'ood 'dea." Yeah. Probably a good idea
Sam hid his mild concern at the idea of Dean agreeing to rest. Then again, maybe there was no need to be concerned at all; his brother seemed to be getting better at taking care of himself-a welcomed surprise in the midst of all things horrible. Sam waited patiently, as usual, for Dean to get his strength back. The taller man busied himself with continuing to read about the recent disappearances and "refreshing" his knowledge of Adlets. Knowledge, that he confessed, was pretty much non-existent.
Dean had a few labored breaths-enough that Sam stepped towards him. Dean's adam's apple bobbed like a bouy but the shaking of his brother's head paused Sam's approach. Dean used his good hand to steady himself on the roof of the car as he puked again. Spitting, Dean kept his head down but made a crack dripping with sarcasm.
"M' so g'ld we st'pp'd f'r l'nch." I'm so glad we stopped for lunch
Interrupting the moment (though not necessarily a bad moment to be interrupting in the first place) was the ringing of Sam's phone. Noting that Dean was fine, Sam stepped away a few feet and picked up happily at the sight of the caller.
"Hey, Cas. Everything good?"
The angel's voice on the other end of line carried an undercurrent of trepidation.
"Yes, I'm fine. Is-you're with Dean, I assume?"
"Yeah. We uhh...kinda took your advice, actually. We're on our way to visit Jody."
"And Dean is…" Cas trailed off, unsure of how he wanted to phrase his inquiry.
"Well we're pulled off the road and he's puking at the moment but he's been ok."
Sam spoke with a levity that Cas hadn't been expecting, but one that wasn't unwelcomed. Through the phone, though it wasn't on speaker, the angel heard some kind of muffled banter between the two hunters that seemed to end in mutual laughter.
"So what's up?"
"I'm just checking in. Making sure Dean is still-"
Not one for subtlety, Cas had difficulty masking his intent. Sam picked up on it immediately.
"Cas, what's going on?"
"Now's not the best time if Dean is…" The angel rephrased, finding a better way to send his message to Sam. "I can wait for a time when Dean's indisposed rather than eating up your time now. I can check in after you two are more settled."
Sam hid his worry like the professional he was and ended the call with a casual goodbye, but not before Cas sent his genuine well-wishes to Dean. Hanging up, Sam walked back to the car where Dean was making a move to climb back in the passenger side.
"W-h'd C'as w'nt? V'ry'ing ok?" What'd Cas want? Everything ok?
"He was just checking in. You ready to get a move on?"
"W'll m' h'ngry 'gain so I f'gure I g't it 'll o'ut." Well I'm hungry again so I figure I got it all out
"That's disgusting, dude."
Dean grinned wide and proud and Sam shuffled him into the seat before pulling back onto the road and following signs to the nearest lodging.
( ) ( ) ( )
Settling in at the Blue Fields motel, Sam unpacked what little they had even though they'd probably only stay the night. Sam tried pushing Dean to eat something but the older man complained that he was still nauseous. Sam attempted to bury the worry he had about Dean and food. It seemed like a specific fear, but every time they went to eat he was afraid that Dean would refuse, that he'd start losing weight...that it was a sign that Dean was giving up. Sometimes, though, Dean just didn't feel like eating. Sam tried reminding himself that he didn't need to freak every time Dean declined a meal.
Settling on the bed closer to the bathroom, Dean held the TV remote in his hooked hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. Confused by why the remote was lodged in the useless hand, Sam's face twisted in a lack of understanding.
"You don't even have the TV on…?"
Dean didn't bother looking away from his phone to reply.
"J'us st'r'chin it. P'lms been cr'mping." Just stretching it. Palm's been cramping
"You want me to take a look?"
"M'fine f'r n'ow. 'nks." I'm fine for now. Thanks
Sam retrieved his laptop from the counter and sat at the small desk, doing the most basic of searches to try and determine if there really was a hunt; he was still hesitant to admit that there was anything going on. Even if there was something happening, he was confident they would have to walk away. The simplest of salt-n-burns would be nearly impossible for Dean, let alone a hunt for a creature they'd never faced (and at that, one Sam had hardly ever heard of). But these decisions didn't have to be made yet, so Sam tabled the thoughts and committed only to the innoculus act of searching the web.
"Y' w'nna c'll J-ody? L'et her k'now we're n't c'min jus' 'et?" You wanna call Jody? Let her know we're not coming just yet?
"I sent her a text earlier. She said that anytime we wanna come by is fine with her and she's making sure to stock the kitchen."
Sam relayed the message with a smile and hoped that it would bring Dean the same joy. His brother made a fake attempt at positivity before giving way to disappointments.
"F'eel l'ke w're mo'vin 'n c'rcles, m'n. I'm t'ryin to k'eep 'p b'ut I'm e'husted. H'vn't 'ven d'ne a'nyhing. On'c 'pon a 'tme w' c'luda m'de 'is t'rip 'n a day 'n st'l h've pl'nty of t-ime t' sp're." Feel like we're moving in circles, man. I'm trying to keep up but I'm exhausted. Haven't even done anything. Once upon a time we could have made this trip in a day and still had plenty of time to spare
"Dean." Sam spoke his brother's name with a tone that indicated he would be monologuing for a while. "A few months ago you had trouble standing. You were having seizures multiple times a day...I could barely understand you...we couldn't manage walking three feet let alone-"
Dean cut off his brothers' rehashing of the worst months of Dean's life.
"Y'eah. G'et it, S'm." Yeah. I get it, Sam
"My point is-we've been driving across the country, stopping to eat, finding a hunt, visiting friends... This isn't any different from before. You keep getting better, Dean. We keep getting better. I just want us to remember that."
Sam kept his tone from sounding too serious or preachy and tried to go about his research as if nothing had happened. Dean seemed to follow his brothers' lead and went back to scrolling through his phone; Sam assumed that he too was researching the case.
An hour passed with little excitement and Sam noticed Dean beginning to doze off. Snapping awake every few minutes, Dean would blink wide-eyed and attempt to continue reading whatever was on his phone.
"Dean!" Sam's voice snapped him back into semi-consciousness. "Just go to bed, man."
" m' n'd s'y 'wk 'r' n 'r."
Sam, having no chance at deciphering the phrase, hoped that it was just fatigue inspired babble.
"It's fine, Dean. Just go to bed."
Pleased that Dean put down the remote and the phone, Sam continued reading. Adlets were, in fact, half-man, half-wolf creatures that were created when a woman mated with a dog. Pushing uncomfortable imagery aside, Sam continued studying. The woman's father, after discovering his daughters' offspring, hunted them. Of course, the creatures decided to hunt him right back. Ever since their creation, Adlets have been hunting those that resemble the one that first attacked them. After sifting through newspaper microfilms for the next hour and half, Sam had finally put together a pattern: three to seven missing seniors (always men), every four years. The pattern, though pretty obvious, was always ignored because old people wandered off all the time. Sam guessed that authorities just assumed that some poor guys suffering from dementia wandered off and if no one kicked up too much fuss, it was easier just to ignore.
Noting the time, Sam rubbed his eyes, closed his laptop, and let exhaustion consume him. His body wasn't tired-not really. But Sam's mind? His mind was debilitated. Concern for Dean never went away-it ruled his every waking (and non-waking) moment. And Sam wasn't an idiot-he knew that his brother tried equally hard to assuage Sam's constant panic. But Dean could only be so convincing in his consolations.
Their trip was bringing Sam a sense of comfort, though. A routine that Sam hadn't practiced in a while, sure, but a familiar one nonetheless. With all the changes of the last year, familiarity was a much needed presence.
Having already put away his notes and having unpacked earlier, Sam considered rewarding himself with just simply falling into bed. Organization always seemed to get the better of him, though, and he quickly resigned himself to setting up the room for any of Dean's possible nighttime needs. Of course Dean could always wake him, but the oldest WInchester still had pride; pride that would be broken if he had to wake his little brother up to help him take a midnight tinkle. So Sam opened the bathroom door, left a water bottle on the counter, along with loosened pill bottles. He wedged a pillow between the nightstand and the head of Dean's bed, lest he accidently whack himself in the middle of the night. He left his phone charging by the TV and set the screen to never lock; the faint glowing allowed enough light to fill the room that it wasn't pitch black, but wasn't too bright to sleep with. Not only that, but it appeared to be almost accidental-it didn't look too much like Sam had left Dean an intentional night-light. With everything finally in place, Sam rubbed his face a final time before collapsing onto the cheap mattress. His eyes had been closed for only a few seconds before he remembered.
Cas.
In some kind of effort for self-preservation, Sam had written off the strange call as an awkward communication. Moments before sleep, though, Sam began to let panic creep in. What did Cas need to share with Sam but not Dean? Knowing from experience that fears shouldn't be allowed to fester, Sam stopped himself from hypothesizing and instead stepped outside to call the angel. The temperature was surprisingly comforting to Sam-a mild evening with a cool breeze...enough humidity that it wasn't too dry. Allowing himself a rare moment alone, he took a deep breath before pulling out his cell. Finally dialing, Sam waited two torturous rings before Cas picked up.
"Sam. Is everything still alright?"
"Cas, man, you gotta cut the cryptic tone, ok? You're really starting to freak me out."
"I'm sorry. I'm...concerned about you two, about Dean, about Heaven-I'm just having trouble keeping everything straight."
"Cas, is something happening in Heaven? Is M-" Sam couldn't bring himself to finish the name and Castiel did him the courtesy of not finishing it either.
"Nothing to do with him. Not directly anyways. Anytime an archangel dies there is just an...an unbalance that occurs in Heaven. A ripple, if you will. There isn't anything to do, Heaven is just readjusting."
"But that's not why you called me."
Sam was growing impatient and his active imagination was generating scenarios of such horror that he desperately needed Cas to just break whatever news he had.
"Is Dean-" Cas trailed off again, waiting for Sam to fill in the necessary information.
"He's fine and he's asleep. Cas, what the hell is going on?"
"When I spoke to Dean at the bunker." Cas ended his first sentence prematurely. "I offered to try and heal him. Not truly heal him, but temporarily ease his pain."
Sam listened patiently, working on preparing himself for tragic news.
"And I saw inside his head. Briefly. At first, I only saw what I'd seen before...the crack that-Michael- left...what it did to Dean. But then I saw something new. A kind of scale, if you will."
"Cas, what are you trying to say?" Sam asked.
"In Dean's mind there is a balance. A balance between light and dark, joy and tragedy, pride and regret, physical and mental...they're a series of scales that exist within every mind. And when he left, he disrupted the scales. Dean's mental and physical balance was dismantled and Dean's body, whether or not he's aware, has been attempting to regain that balance. But Michael's power is still alive in Dean. Just a trace, but enough to continue disrupting the balance."
"Cas, please. What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I'm afraid Dean's mind is so focused on regaining its balance, it may worsen his mental state in order to match his physical one."
Sam's chest tightened and he stumbled back. The wind had been knocked out of him. His knuckles turned white clutching the phone and a dry lump formed in his throat.
It was the feeling he got before he cried.
Cas was silent on the other end of the line, trying desperately not to let his own emotion rule his words. The angel's wings had always been heavy with burden but never as much as they were after Dean's possession. An angel, one of the only creatures capable of pulling a soul from hell; an angel, one of the only creatures capable of truly damning one. And Cas, at the end of the day, was an angel. His title always laying heavy on his wings.
"Sam. I'm not saying this will happen. I have no idea, I truly don't. But after all we've been through, you deserve to know all that I do."
Regaining a sliver of composure, Sam willed himself to asking a question.
"Does...does Dean have any control over this? Is it a part of his mind that-" Sam struggled. "Cas when we found him locked away in his memories-the bar where he hid Dean. Dean could control that. Is this something he can control?"
"Hypothetically, yes. But much like his fake memory, he can't control it if he isn't aware of it. I would have to show him the scales. But showing him that...it risks disrupting the balance even more."
"Ok well we'll just-" Sam's voice broke. "We'll just have to figure it out as we go."
"Sam-" The angel began to protest but Sam cut him off.
"I promise to check in soon, ok? I need to get some sleep." Sam wouldn't be able to sleep. Not tonight. But he needed the space.
"Yes, I understand. Call me for anything. And obviously I mean the cellphone but...I'm listening for your prayers too. Always." The angel let the point hit home before adding a concluding thought. "The both of you are my 'go-to station.'" Cas attempted levity and actually succeeded in making Sam grin. Despite the circumstances, the Winchester was grateful that Cas had become such a brother.
"Dean will want to hear from you. Call again tomorrow."
"I will. And hopefully with good news."
"Thank you, Cas."
"Anytime."
With that, Sam hung up the phone, headed back inside, and sat awake on his bed. Attempting tirelessly to fall asleep, exhaustion finally won. For the first time in months, no nightmares came. Sam didn't know what that meant, but allowed himself to feel a twinge of hope. Dangerous, yes, but Sam couldn't survive without it.
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Stirring from an unexpectedly peaceful sleep, Sam glared at the alarm clock through squinted eyes. 3:43am. Looking to the other bed, Sam saw Dean resting fitfully. The covers had been kicked to the end of the bed, his leg was bent at what must have been an uncomfortable angle, and though a subtle movement, Sam could see Dean's bad shoulder flexing. Despite the apparent discomfort, Dean was lightly snoring. Sam took the peaceful moment to reflect on what Cas had told him; Dean might get worse. Much worse. So much worse that Dean might start to not seem like Dean anymore. It terrified Sam more than anything had. More than death, more than the cage, more than the apocalypse. It was all Sam could do to remind himself that nothing was set in stone. Cas wasn't sure of anything. And besides, how many times had the Winchesters been told that something was fate, destiny, unavoidable, inevitable...and how many times had that truly been the case? Of course, there was also a small piece of Sam that felt guilty for being so terrified of Dean's mental capabilities slipping. He knew it wouldn't mean that he'd love his brother any less, it wouldn't change all that they'd been through… But it would mean that new routines would need to be made, new memories would need to be created, and new identities taken up. Sam would miss the ease of their relationship. He was too selfish to be okay with starting over.
But he would.
Of course he would.
In a heartbeat.
The clock, now reading 3:51am, encouraged Sam to try and fall back asleep. Tomorrow would be another long day. Not only that, but he'd have to try and bury what Cas had told him. Dean couldn't know lest it worsen his state unintentionally. Until Sam and Cas found a way to tell him safely, it would have to be kept under wraps.
When did that ever usually work out for them?
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Sam, still in the motel bed, startled awake to the sound of Dean's hoarse, throaty shrieks. Sam had been conditioned to learn the difference between his brothers' intentional, conscious noises, and the ones he made unconsciously. This sound, in all its horror, was the result of air being forced through Dean's vocal chords as his diaphragm seized. It had been a while since Dean had a seizure in his sleep, or right after waking up, but Sam wasn't thrown. The number of hours he had spent memorizing and familiarizing himself with all kinds of symptoms and diagnosis and conditions and syndromes had prepared him for anything.
Rapidly moving from his place in the bed, Sam approached Dean and gently rolled him on his side. Already stiff, Dean's body was in its tonic phase and Sam waited for the jerking to begin. On cue, Dean's form shook with continuous clenching and relaxing. All the while, horrible sounds emanated from his throat. Despite the seeming chaos, Sam was hopeful that this wouldn't be a long one...that Dean would wake up a little drained, but ready to get on with the day. Sam's hopes were shot down by the sight of Dean's darkening pants, and the wetting of the sheets. Dean would be furious at the whole situation, embarrassed, and understandably upset. Excusing the irony of the metaphor, Sam watched the day's positivity get flushed down the proverbial toilet.
Thankfully, though, the fit slowed and Dean went into a clonic state: his body falling entirely limp on the bed.
Almost entirely, that is.
Sam bowed his head at the sight of Dean's involuntary erection. Once upon a time, Sam would have gone red-faced with embarrassment and would have wanted nothing more than to maintain privacy. Now, all it was to him was a symbol of how broken and depressed Dean would be for the rest of the day. No amount of reading and doctors and medical professionalism could convince Dean that it wasn't a big deal. Dean had never been shy about his body or sex or anything of that nature, but somehow, when it related to his current state, he couldn't stand it. Sam hypothesized that it was because it reminded him how little control he had over his own body. Puberty may have created similar circumstances (Dean having re-lived that too, not long ago), but it was different as a grown man. Dean was losing control of himself much earlier than he was supposed to; losing control of the most intimate part of himself. It stood for the possibility of what else he might lose; a possibility that now seemed more terrifying than ever.
Sam understood Dean's attitude about the whole thing, he really did. But he also wished that his brother could learn to exist with one less burden on his shoulders. Of all the things to worry about, a seizure-induced boner was not one of them.
For both their sakes, Sam prayed that it would go away before Dean woke up.
Of course, Sam wasn't so lucky.
Dean's eyes flitted open and his head moved back and forth a few times before settling on Sam's face.
" 'sz' 'n ma sl'p?" Seize in my sleep?
"Yeah. I think you were about to wake up."
Dean shifted a little on the bed, his face falling immediately.
"S' w'et. S'ry." It's wet. Sorry
"I don't care. C'mon. Let's get you up."
Sam leaned in to help Dean sit up but before any moment occurred, Dean let out a discouraged sigh.
"W'ss…'t's n'ot 'nly 'ing at's up." ...Not the only thing that's up
Sam didn't have a response at the ready and certainly not one that Dean wanted to hear. Leaning in once again, Sam was met with resistance.
"F'ee'l f'ne. J'us l't me d'eal w' 't m'self, ok?" I feel fine. Just let me deal with this myself, ok?
"You sure you d-" Sam didn't come close to finishing before Dean's anger cut him off.
"W'ld you j'us g've me s'me sp'ce? a-alone? E'ryt'me I p'ss t' b'ed you h'afta b-e w'tchin? H'fta h've you s'it 'an w'tch my b'dy...my s'ex l'f-" Would you just give me some space? Alone? Every time I piss the bed you have to be watching? Have to have you sit and watch my body, my sex life-
Dean stopped himself before saying things he didn't want to hear himself; stopped before saying things he regretted. Sam stood dutifully; puppy eyes mourning the positive steak they had just broken. The sight of what Dean perceived as Sam's pity only enraged the older man more. Why didn't Sam defend himself? Why didn't he tell Dean to screw himself-to go to hell? Why did Sam have to be so good at taking care of him?
"J'us y'ell 't me. P'lse. T'll me w-at a j-rk i'm b-bein." Just yell at me. Please. Tell me what a jerk I'm being
"I'm not doing anything wrong." Sam made the assertion sternly and Dean accepted it with gratitude.
"F'inally. G't a n'rmal r'action o'ta you." Finally. Got a normal reaction out of you
But Sam wasn't finished with his thought.
"I'm not doing anything wrong but neither are you. We're just doing the best we can. Like always. So I'm gonna go get breakfast and coffee and you can take care of whatever you need to."
Dean nodded in agreement but the shadow of fear across his face was noticeable from a mile off. As worried as Dean was to be left alone, Sam was twice as afraid to be the one leaving him. But progress had to be made. And Dean had made good points...his mental state couldn't benefit from being coddled or from being watched. Distance had to be allowed for. Luckily, there was a safeguard.
"Cas is always around. He'll come if you need."
Sam extended the invitation even though Dean was always aware.
"I k-n-o-w."
Sam sighed and grabbed his coat as Dean lumberingly sat up.
"Pancakes good?"
"A'w'ays." Always
With that, Sam left the room, and Dean let an emotional sound emerge from his chest. This, unlike other sounds, was intentional. It was something between a sigh and a laugh...not fully formed and not premeditated. It was purely reactionary.
They really were getting better.
And with Jody's visit on the horizon, they'd finally have someone to share it with.
( ) ( ) ( )
Pulling into the driveway, Dean turned off the sound of the country station. Half an hour into the last leg of their trip to Sioux Falls, Dean's guilt had reached a point where he allowed Sam to take over music selection. Despite his excitement, Dean was also nervous-he couldn't help it. No one besides Sam and Cas had seen him since the incident. And while he trusted Jody, it was still hard for him to show weakness to anyone. Sam turned the ignition off and wordlessly exited the car, coming around to the passenger side. Opening the door for Dean, he waited for permission to physically help him up.
"Your leg still bad?" Sam questioned, knowing that it had been acting up since last night.
"I'live." I'll live
Dean gestured casually for Sam to extend an arm and Sam complied. Their weights properly balanced, the boys made it out of the car safely and began the short walk to the front door. Limping, Dean looked to the couple of porch steps with defeat.
"It's only a few steps, Dean. You'll be fine."
"J'dy b'tter n't b'e w'tchin 'through 'h win'dow." Jody better not be watching through the window
"Oh yeah. I'm sure she's got a camera and everything. Just waiting to watch you fall on your ass."
"W'ldn't b'lame 'er. I'm t'mping 'tat way. V'ry p'hto'g'nic." Wouldn't blame her. I'm temping that way. Very photogenic
"If you're that interested in Jody I'd be happy to be your wingman."
Sam smirked, swallowing a childish giggle.
"Oh s'hutup." Oh shut up
Arriving at the base of the steps, Dean leaned heavily on Sam as he maneuvered his heavy boot up onto the concrete step. Repeating the process, both boys were standing on the bland welcome mat and Sam extended his fist to knock on the door. Waiting for Jody to arrive, Dean's arm clenched against his chest-the nervous reaction he'd developed. Footsteps on the other side of the door indicated her approach. A moment later, the front door swung open to reveal Jody Mills in her standard plaid shirt-smile wide on her face.
"It is so good to see you boys." She reached out to hug Sam and the male hunter swore he felt a tear fall from her face onto his shoulder. By the time she retracted though, there was no trace. Imperceptibly waiting a second to gauge Dean's attitude about physical contact, she concluded that a hug was, in fact, in order.
"Oh Dean. I am so happy to see you, you've got no idea."
Hugging her back with the one arm he had free, he noticed that she wasn't putting any weight onto him-looking out for him as usual.
"R'eal g'ood t' s'yu t'oo, J'dy." Real good to see you too, Jody
Dean dry swallowed in reaction to his imperfect speech. It was understandable, he hoped, but he knew he could do better. Waving them inside, Jody slipped into her familiar disposition.
"You boys better be hungry because I have three chickens marinating, more pounds of potato than should be legal to keep in a single household, and as a welcoming present I'm also making Claire's favorite: my macaroni and cheese." As she spoke, she waved for them to sit on the couch and even though he'd been sitting for most of the past few days, Dean rested thankfully. Sam, on the other hand, stood stretching his legs.
"Don't treat me like a stranger! Sam, you can sit on my couch. Even Dean knows I don't have cooties."
Saving Sam from having to come up with a polite defense, Dean just told Jody the truth.
"H's b'e-en d'oin a'll t'the d'r'iving. C'ou'ld p'ro'b'ly u'se to s'tre'tch." He's been doing all the driving. Could probably use to stretch.
Dean tried his best to annunciate but it was already becoming tiresome. Jody didn't seem to have any trouble understanding, though, and she let the moment pass.
"So how have the girls been? You run into any problems here?" Sam questioned genuinely.
"Alex and Claire are off on a college tour road trip which means a college-party road trip but they've been checkin' in every day so I can't complain. And things have been quiet here. No dead cows, no electrical storms, no bodies drained of blood...all is quiet on the Sioux Falls front. What about you? Anything interesting?"
"Not much we've heard about." Sam replied.
"E'x'c'pt…" Except…
Jody smirked and looked back and forth between the boys.
"What am I missing?"
"On the way here we may have-"
"W'w d-i-d-" We did
"We saw some claw marks in the woods just outside of town. Dean nagged me to look up any strange reports and well...three old men went missing. Haven't been found."
"I'm gathering that you two think those things are related."
"Dean thinks it's an Adlet." Sam snapped his head to one side and raised his eyebrows on the end of the phrase in an attempt to lightly mock Dean's theory. Sam believed Dean was right, but he also liked being in a jovial mood and poking fun was a part of that. Jody's lips pursed lightly and she stared at the wall before summarizing.
"Now I'm also gathering that these Adlet things are bad and that I now have a job to work." She paused as Dean and Sam made apologetic glances. "You're magnets for weird, I swear. Remind me not to invite you boys over anytime I'm using vacation days."
"We'r- n't j'st d'ump'n c'se on y, J'y. W'r g'n w'rk 't w' y-ou." We're not just dumping the case on you, Jody. We're gonna work it with you
The moment he finished speaking, he recognized the look on her face; the expression people made when they felt bad that they didn't understand him. Before Dean tried again, or before Jody made the awkward confession, Sam swooped in and saved the day.
"Dean and I have been talking about hunting again but we don't have a plan yet we're just gonna take things one step at a time."
"Well...can our first step involve you helping me destroy Claire's high score on Wordscapes?"
"Wordscapes?" Sam questioned
"T's l'ke a c'rss b'e'tw'n sc'rabble 'an w'ord s'earch." It's like a cross between scrabble and a word search
Sam shot Dean a puzzled look-they spent nearly every hour together and Sam had no memory of Dean ever playing the game. Giving an endearing response, Dean shrugged and looked to Jody as an audience member.
"Y'ou ne'ed to s'leep s'ome'time." You need to sleep some time…
Sam acted mock-offended, but was honestly a little curious.
"You have a game you play specifically when I'm sleeping?"
"S'nds c'reep'y'en y'ou p'ut 't l'ke 'hat." Sounds creepy when you put it like that
Jody interrupted, then, and turned the conversation back to its initial point.
"So I'll take that as a 'yes.'"
With that, she sat next to Dean and pulled her phone from her pocket.
( ) ( ) ( )
"How do you see the word 'Czar' first thing?" Sam complained.
"It's a g'ft, S'mmy." It's a gift, Sammy
"I, for one, am just glad that Claire and Alex will be too busy trying to catch up to my new high score for them to fight with each other." Jody smiled and left her phone on the coffee table, saying that she was going to put the chickens in the oven. In the moment she was gone, Dean slumped a little further into the couch and even closed his eyes. Worried, Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Dean? You ok?"
"G'ttin d'zzy. L'ttl w'ped." Getting dizzy. Little wiped
"You probably need to hydrate. I'll get you some water, ok?"
Dean nodded before sinking even deeper into the cushions. Sam quickly went to the kitchen and tried giving Jody a quick update without freaking her out too much.
"Hey-Dean's not feeling great. I'm gonna run to the car and grab some things. He'll be ok but keep an eye."
Jody's brows raised in concern and apprehension but her mom, Sheriff poker face was slapped on immediately afterwards.
"Should I do anything?"
"He's probably embarrassed so just keep an ear out. I'll be right back." Sam turned to head out the front door and Jody snuck a glance into the living room; Dean had laid himself on his side, still on the couch, and made a few smuttering breaths. Her worry growing, Jody crossed the threshold and approached the prone man.
"Dean?" The woman, filled with empathy, couldn't come up with anything more to say. In response, Dean moaned and tried sputtering out a warning. All embarrassment thrown out the window.
"Eeeze."
Despite Jody's lack of practice in understanding Dean's speech, she put it together instantaneously. Seize. Her motherly instincts kicked into overdrive, she approached him and reached out to roll him on his side.
"SAM!" Jody called loudly for the other man but her voice soon dropped to a soothing tone. "Sam's coming back in, you're gonna be fine. I'm right here."
Sam came barreling into the house and went directly to the couch where Jody was hovering over Dean. His eyes were closed and he was pale, but a seizure hadn't begun.
"Did anything happen?" Sam asked.
"No, nothing happened he just said he was gonna seize. I rolled him on his side, I thought-" Jody tried calmly explaining but was cut off by Sam's reassurance.
"That's fine. That's normal. You did everything right. Thanks." Jody nodded and made space for Sam.
"Is there something I should get? Anything I can do?"
For the moment, Dean was still conscious and Sam ignored Jody's question, electing to ask Dean directly.
"You need anything?"
Dean's speech was particularly bad but Sam still managed to make out most of it. Before words came, however, there was a pained sound. Sam's heart leapt.
"Uhgah-l'gss 'r'l b'dd. H''pp 'b'd 'n's'd." Leg's really bad...Hip? Side..?
"You wanna be on your back? Hip bad?"
Dean responded with a positive sounding groan of affirmation and Sam made the executive decision that it was best to move him to the floor.
"Jody, we're gonna put him on the floor. Grab his feet. Careful of his right leg."
The two moved in sync and got Dean to the floor with still a few moments to spare. Jody felt like she was definitely invading their privacy but it wasn't in her nature to run away-not if there was anything she could do. As if he was reading her mind, Sam made a request.
"Jody, can you get a small pillow or towel or something?"
The Sheriff responded wordlessly by disappearing into the hall. Before she returned, Dean's tonic phase began and his body stiffened. Jody came back to a slightly blue-faced Dean and couldn't help but react.
"Oh my god-"
"It's ok. When his diaphragm seizes he can't move air but it'll relax again. Just wait."
So they waited.
And waited.
And Dean began jerking.
And his face remained blue.
"Sam?" Jody's voice cracked in panic.
Sam bent over Dean, helpless. But by some miracle, the seizure ended and color returned to Dean's face.
Drained from the scare, Sam fell back onto the ground and hung his head. Jody looked on in bewilderment.
"He'll be fine...he'll be fine." Sam muttered the phrase a few times.
He wasn't talking to Jody anymore.
He was talking to himself.
Waiting for Dean to wake up-to make a joke-to whine or complain or cry or scream or anything. Sam spoke again,
"He'll be fine. He'll be fine."
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A/N: sorry to end on a cliffhanger but I promise that this coronavirus quarantine will allow me to get the next chapter posted soon. Hope everyone is staying safe.