Session 2: Chapter 3
Session 2
Chapter 3
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Rating: Pg-13 to R
Characters: Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo
Disclaimer: I own nothing, no money was made
Word Count: 3128
Summary: Sequel to Session 1. After finding a way to temporarily stop a sinister force from getting its way, Sam and Dean are both of the road to recovery with Dean forced to see a therapist. Their problems with the demon were only temporarily solved as the threat once again rears its ugly head.
Author’s note: Betaed by the lovely Jess (starxd_sparrow)! She probably thought she was free when I finished Session 1, poor girl. Anyway she is fantastic and I couldn’t do this without here. I want to send out a thanks to the people who poked me for a sequel. I really wasn’t planning on writing one and even told several of you that, but my muse especially loves to contradict me so here it is, the start of the second part of this story. I hope you guys enjoy. Remember comments are love.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Chapter 3
Three hours earlier
Sam rubbed his forehead and sat up. There was a lingering ache right behind his eyes, but otherwise he felt mostly okay. He tried to blink the sleep away, but everything was still a little fuzzy. What time was it anyway? The sunlight was streaming through the drapes covering the windows, and from the quiet of the house, it wasn’t likely Dean was home.
There was a sudden rap on the door that grabbed his attention. That must have been what woke him from his sleep-not that he even remembered falling asleep. He’d come home after a rough physical therapy session and he must have just…crashed.
The knocking on the door was persistent, and finally Sam pushed himself to his feet and shuffled into the living room. He peaked through the peephole in the door before turning the deadbolt and opening up. "Jo?"
"Hey," Jo replied, giving him a sort of half smile he was used to seeing from her.
"Been a little while," Sam commented, rubbing his bed hair absently. Brandon stepped into his line of sight a second later, giving Sam a perfunctory nod before entering as well. "So is this a social call?"
"Bobby called, asked us to swing by, see how you were doing," Jo said pointedly. "He wouldn’t say much else beyond that."
"Yeah, I bet," Sam mumbled, moving towards the kitchen. "You guys thirsty?"
"I’ll take a beer," Brandon called.
"One beer it is. Jo?"
"I’m fine, Sam," Jo added quickly.
"Alright. One beer and one nothing." Sam returned a moment later and handed off the one of the brews Dean kept around. His older brother didn’t drink much, but after three years of sobriety in that damn asylum, he needed one every now and then at least.
"So what’s going on, Sam?" Jo asked, crossing her arms over her chest while Brandon popped the tab on his can of beer.
"We were heading to a hunt, this one’s a little pissy because we got pulled off it for babysitting duty," Brandon commented, quirking a smile. He took a long gulp of his drink and gave Sam a quick nod of approval at his beer choice.
Jo shot Brandon a warning look but didn’t comment; instead she pressed for information. "Bobby wouldn’t say much, Sam. What’s so bad that he asked us to come 150 miles out of our way to check up on you?"
"I don’t really know," Sam shook his head. "Bobby shouldn’t have called you off whatever it is you were doing though."
"He was worried," Jo supplied, her tone softening some.
"Yeah well, so am I. Still, I don’t think there’s much you can do."
"Why not?" Brandon asked.
"I don’t even know what the hell happened last night. Something bad. Look, you guys ought to just get out of here, get back to your hunt. Dean and I got this from here."
"Where is Dean?" Jo asked.
"The garage…or maybe he’s still at his doctor's. What time is it?" Sam turned to find the clock on the microwave, but his vision blurred, making the numbers impossible to read and amplifying his headache just for trying.
"You alright?" Brandon asked.
"Fine," Sam said, gritting his teeth to try and push the pain back, but it was growing, filling his skull until he didn’t think he could take anymore. "Shit."
"Sam?" Jo asked worriedly, stepping towards him. Her hand touched his arm, but he pulled away quickly, the soft touch of her hand sending shock waves of pain through him. And then Sam felt something snap inside, like the flood gates broke, and the pain was draining out of his body again. His vision turned white, and it was a fight not to fall over. He reached out blindly, a hand finding a wall to keep him upright until everything but the headache started to fade. When he was finally able to focus again, Jo was trying to lift Dean’s dresser from where it was now resting in the living room and her voice was shaking in a panic.
"Brandon! Brandon, stay with me! Sam!"
Sam moved quickly, staring down in surprise when he saw Brandon’s body lying beneath the heavy oak dresser Dean’s social worker had gotten for him when they first moved in. Solid wood. Solid, heavy wood that was crushing Jo’s partner. "Oh, God," Sam breathed out, hands grabbing for the edge and lifting it with Jo’s help. It took several attempts to move the piece of furniture before Brandon was freed from under it. After the dresser was out of the way, Jo dropped to Brandon’s side, checking vitals and trying to get him to wake up.
"Brandon? Brandon open your eyes!"
"We need to get him to the hospital," Sam said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he watched the scene unfold before him. He didn’t have to remember throwing a dresser with his mind to know that that was exactly what had happened. His head was throbbing again but it was a different kind of pain. Like when you had to hold your breath too long and you nearly passed out from the lack of oxygen.
"Sam what the hell happened?!" Jo yelled, not facing him, keeping her entire focus on Brandon. "Brandon, wake up. Shit. Sam?"
"I don’t know. Oh God, I don’t know, Jo. Come on, we need to get him to the hospital," Sam said, kneeling on the other side of Brandon and lifting him up. The guy was heavy; his stocky build made him unwieldy. The only way Sam was able to hold all his weight was to put Brandon over his shoulder.
"Get the door," he ordered, and Jo obliged as they headed down the three flights of stairs to Jo’s truck. With each step, Sam felt his guilt build. He’d done this. Whether he intended to or not, he’d done this. If Brandon didn’t pull through, Jo would never forgive him-hell, Sam didn’t even know if he’d forgive himself. He knew that stuff was happening around him. After what Dean had told him yesterday, he should have never even answered the door, but he had, and maybe it had just cost someone his life. Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to live with that.
They reached the ground floor and headed out the back. "Careful, Sam," Jo said as she opened the door. As cautiously as he could, Sam set Brandon in the passenger seat. A groan escaped the hunter, and both he and Jo took that as a sign that maybe it wasn’t too late. She ran around to the other side of the truck and started it up.
"The hospital is on the corner of Ninth and Pleasant. Just take this down to Ninth and take a right; it should be two blocks down. I have to go, Jo. I’m so sorry, God…I’m just so sorry. Call Dean, tell him what happened; he’ll know what to do." Sam gave Jo and Brandon one last look before closing the truck door and backing away.
"Sam, get in the truck!" Jo called, climbing out and watching him as he moved away.
Sam swallowed a heavy lump and shook his head. "I can’t…it’s not safe around me. Just go. He doesn’t have much time. Tell Dean I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here."
"Sam!"
Sam turned and headed toward his car and got in. He started up the engine and pulled out. Really he had no idea where he was going, but it had to be away from here. Until he could figure out what was happening he needed to stay away from the people he loved.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Dean hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Ellen said to let them worry about finding Sam, but that wasn’t going to happen. How was he supposed to sit here and do nothing while his brother was God knows where doing God knows what? He had to find Sam before something else happened.
"Dean?" a quiet voice behind him called.
Dean turned around and was taken aback by Jo’s tear stained cheeks. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but didn’t have to. It was written all over her face, from her blood shot eyes to the way she was biting down on her lip to keep from crying. And he didn’t want to believe it, for her sake or Sam’s, but the truth wouldn’t be denied.
"How? He was fine when I left," Dean said quietly
"He crashed a few minutes after you went outside. He crashed, and they couldn’t bring him back. Too much internal bleeding, they couldn’t repair all the damage," Jo explained quickly, coldly. "He’s gone."
"Jo-"
"What the hell happened back there? Answer me, Dean!" Her tone went from flat to angry, and she was hurling hot, tearful words at him. "What the hell happened that five hours ago I was heading to a hunt, and now my partner is dead?"
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but words wouldn’t form. What could he say? There was nothing that was going to make this better. Nothing that was going to bring Brandon back or fix what was happening with Sam.
"I’m so sorry, Jo," Dean said, his voice steady and strong, though his insides felt like they were all twisted around.
Jo stared at him long and hard before shaking her head and moving to go past him. Dean caught he before she could get by, pulling her to him in a tight hug that she fought for only a moment before eventually giving in. He could feel her hot tears soaking through his shirt, but she didn’t make a sound as she cried. Maybe that was most heartbreaking of all.
When she was done, she pulled back, wiping her wet cheeks and looking off towards the parking lot. Her whole demeanor was hardening right before his eyes. She was building up walls to protect herself. Dean could understand that. When she spoke, it was with a solid, unshaking tone.
"We need to salt and burn Brandon’s body, and then we’ll find Sam." There was no suggestion in the words; she was just stating the facts. This was how it was going to happen, end of story. All Dean could do was nod.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
He didn’t want to leave Jo alone, but there were things that needed to be taken care of. Dean left her in the capable hands out Nurse Maria who was helping her sign out Brandon’s body for a private burial. It would take some time to get all the paperwork together though, and Dean had things that needed to be taken care of. Without much of a goodbye, Dean had headed out to the parking lot and climbed into his Impala to head to his social worker’s officer.
The drive was short, and Dean found his mind wandering to the few memories of Brandon he had. He hadn’t known the guy real well, but he’d been there for Jo for a long time now. Dean respected that.
He parked in the small parking lot before heading inside the office building and immediately seeking out Janice Wyler’s office. This was a sort of unannounced meeting; he could only hope she had time for him because he didn’t have a whole lot of time to linger around. He knocked twice on the office door and breathed out a sigh of relief when she opened and he saw no one was in with her.
"Dean," she smiled softly, motioning for him to come in before moving back around her desk to take a seat.
Dean smiled back as best he could. He and Janice had always gotten along well. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes. No supermodel or anything, but she had a quality about her that was very attractive. She was sweet too and seemed to really look out for him, though he was fairly certain he could take care of himself. All in all, he liked Janice; he just hoped today she didn’t give him a reason to change his opinion.
"This is unexpected. Everything going alright?" she asked, motioning for him to take a seat. He did, if only to make her feel more comfortable.
"Not exactly alright, no," Dean shook his head. "A friend died a few hours ago."
"A friend?" Janice asked. "That’s terrible. Death can be difficult to deal with, and I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean. Would you like me to set up and extra session with Dr. Crosier? I’m sure she could fit you into her schedule."
"That’s not really why I’m here," Dean shook his head. "The burial is going to be in Boston. I need to leave town for a few days to go."
"You know the conditions of your parole," Janice said slowly, leaning back in her chair.
"I do. Which is why I’m here. I need to go. I need to say goodbye," Dean insisted.
"What’s your friend’s name?"
"Brandon Carl. You can check with Mercy hospital. Jo Harvell is taking charge of his body for a private burial in Boston. You can check it all out, I’m not lying."
"I believe you," Janice assured. She let out a long breath and tapped her pen on the desk for a moment before finally nodding. "Okay, Dean. How long do you need?"
"A week at least. I’m driving out there. It’s not a short drive either," Dean replied quickly.
"Alright. I’ll clear everything with Dr. Crosier. I’m going to want you back in town by next Tuesday. That means in my office and accounted for at 9am sharp."
"I’ll be here," Dean said, standing up and moving towards the door.
"And Dean," Janice called to him. "If you need an ear…I mean, I know you have Dr. Crosier, but if you just need someone to listen and not analyze, I’m here."
"Thanks." Dean nodded before turning and heading out the door.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Ellen paused in what she was reading, her eyes going over the words once again to make sure they were right. When she was certain she read them correctly, she leaned back in her chair, taking a steadying breath. "Bobby, come here and read this," she called, standing up and moving away from the large book to give the other hunter a chance to read through the text.
Bobby stepped away from the scrolls he was going through and moved to take her vacated seat, his eyes scanning the old parchment. It took him a few minutes to read over, and she could see him double checking that he’d read correctly before he finally spoke. "Shit," Bobby mumbled. "You don’t think-"
"It’s the only logical explanation," Ellen cut him off.
"Call Dean, let him know." Bobby continued to read the book while Ellen reached for her cell phone.
"He’s not gonna take this well," she said, deciding that someone had to say the obvious.
"Like it or not, he needs to know."
XOXOXOXOXOXOX
Dean pulled into the hospital parking lot and got out of the car. As he headed inside, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he stopped just outside the ER, flipping the thing open. "Got anything?"
"Dean, where are you?"
"Just outside the hospital," he replied.
"Jo?"
"Not good, Brandon didn’t pull through," Dean replied solemnly.
"Jesus," Ellen whispered. And what else was there to say beyond that?
"I know. We’re going to salt and burn his bones and then start looking for Sam."
"How’s Jo handling it?" Ellen asked.
"She could be better…she could be doing a lot worse too. I was just about to head in there. You call for a reason?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, yeah actually I did," Ellen responded. "Dean...I don’t know how to say this."
"Just spitting it out usually works best for me."
"You might wanna sit down."
"Why don’t you just tell me, Ellen."
Ellen let out a long breath over the phone, he could tell she was apprehensive about saying whatever it was she was about to say. It was starting to put Dean on edge.
"Ellen?"
"We think we know what’s happening with Sam."
"What? What did you find out?"
"We think he’s turning, Dean."
"What do you mean? Turning into what?" he asked, confused. He could guess and speculate, but he needed to hear it from her mouth.
"A demon. It explains the outburst of that he’s having, he’s only going to become more and more dangerous as the outburst become more powerful and more frequent."
He could hear the apology in her voice, but he couldn’t concentrate on that now. Right at that moment, he needed to know everything Ellen knew. "How? How is this happening?" Dean demanded to know. "I stopped the ritual. Sam should be fine! What the hell went wrong?"
"We can’t be sure, Dean, but it looks like whatever the demon did, he anticipated you finding a way to beat him, maybe he was even counting on it, I don’t know. But he put a kind of lock on Sam, I don’t know how else to explain it. What he started, only he can stop. Once the ritual was started, it had to be reversed or else the changes would continue, even if the ritual was interrupted. Even if you kill this thing, Dean, it won’t save your brother. The demon has to be released and he has to reverse this himself."
"No." Dean shook his head. "No, we can’t just free this guy."
"I’m not suggesting you do," Ellen said quickly.
"Then what are you suggesting?" Dean snapped.
"We need to find Sam, and we need to find him fast."
"We have to stop this, Ellen. We have to. I can’t loose Sam again. I don’t care how many fucking books you have to read or how damn long it takes, find an answer!"
There was a long paused before Ellen spoke again. "We’re trying, Dean."
"Well try harder!" He snapped the phone closed and looked down at the ground for a moment, taking calming breaths. What the hell was he going to do? Even if he released the demon, what were the odds he’d reverse what it'd done to Sam? The demon wasn’t going to be satisfied with letting the Dean go either. There was one thing this demon wanted, and it looked like Dean was going to have to give it up.
Pushing the thought aside, Dean headed inside. The hospital was big, but he had to track Jo down. First they’d take care of Brandon, and then they’d find Sam.
Chapter 3
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Rating: Pg-13 to R
Characters: Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo
Disclaimer: I own nothing, no money was made
Word Count: 3128
Summary: Sequel to Session 1. After finding a way to temporarily stop a sinister force from getting its way, Sam and Dean are both of the road to recovery with Dean forced to see a therapist. Their problems with the demon were only temporarily solved as the threat once again rears its ugly head.
Author’s note: Betaed by the lovely Jess (starxd_sparrow)! She probably thought she was free when I finished Session 1, poor girl. Anyway she is fantastic and I couldn’t do this without here. I want to send out a thanks to the people who poked me for a sequel. I really wasn’t planning on writing one and even told several of you that, but my muse especially loves to contradict me so here it is, the start of the second part of this story. I hope you guys enjoy. Remember comments are love.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Chapter 3
Three hours earlier
Sam rubbed his forehead and sat up. There was a lingering ache right behind his eyes, but otherwise he felt mostly okay. He tried to blink the sleep away, but everything was still a little fuzzy. What time was it anyway? The sunlight was streaming through the drapes covering the windows, and from the quiet of the house, it wasn’t likely Dean was home.
There was a sudden rap on the door that grabbed his attention. That must have been what woke him from his sleep-not that he even remembered falling asleep. He’d come home after a rough physical therapy session and he must have just…crashed.
The knocking on the door was persistent, and finally Sam pushed himself to his feet and shuffled into the living room. He peaked through the peephole in the door before turning the deadbolt and opening up. "Jo?"
"Hey," Jo replied, giving him a sort of half smile he was used to seeing from her.
"Been a little while," Sam commented, rubbing his bed hair absently. Brandon stepped into his line of sight a second later, giving Sam a perfunctory nod before entering as well. "So is this a social call?"
"Bobby called, asked us to swing by, see how you were doing," Jo said pointedly. "He wouldn’t say much else beyond that."
"Yeah, I bet," Sam mumbled, moving towards the kitchen. "You guys thirsty?"
"I’ll take a beer," Brandon called.
"One beer it is. Jo?"
"I’m fine, Sam," Jo added quickly.
"Alright. One beer and one nothing." Sam returned a moment later and handed off the one of the brews Dean kept around. His older brother didn’t drink much, but after three years of sobriety in that damn asylum, he needed one every now and then at least.
"So what’s going on, Sam?" Jo asked, crossing her arms over her chest while Brandon popped the tab on his can of beer.
"We were heading to a hunt, this one’s a little pissy because we got pulled off it for babysitting duty," Brandon commented, quirking a smile. He took a long gulp of his drink and gave Sam a quick nod of approval at his beer choice.
Jo shot Brandon a warning look but didn’t comment; instead she pressed for information. "Bobby wouldn’t say much, Sam. What’s so bad that he asked us to come 150 miles out of our way to check up on you?"
"I don’t really know," Sam shook his head. "Bobby shouldn’t have called you off whatever it is you were doing though."
"He was worried," Jo supplied, her tone softening some.
"Yeah well, so am I. Still, I don’t think there’s much you can do."
"Why not?" Brandon asked.
"I don’t even know what the hell happened last night. Something bad. Look, you guys ought to just get out of here, get back to your hunt. Dean and I got this from here."
"Where is Dean?" Jo asked.
"The garage…or maybe he’s still at his doctor's. What time is it?" Sam turned to find the clock on the microwave, but his vision blurred, making the numbers impossible to read and amplifying his headache just for trying.
"You alright?" Brandon asked.
"Fine," Sam said, gritting his teeth to try and push the pain back, but it was growing, filling his skull until he didn’t think he could take anymore. "Shit."
"Sam?" Jo asked worriedly, stepping towards him. Her hand touched his arm, but he pulled away quickly, the soft touch of her hand sending shock waves of pain through him. And then Sam felt something snap inside, like the flood gates broke, and the pain was draining out of his body again. His vision turned white, and it was a fight not to fall over. He reached out blindly, a hand finding a wall to keep him upright until everything but the headache started to fade. When he was finally able to focus again, Jo was trying to lift Dean’s dresser from where it was now resting in the living room and her voice was shaking in a panic.
"Brandon! Brandon, stay with me! Sam!"
Sam moved quickly, staring down in surprise when he saw Brandon’s body lying beneath the heavy oak dresser Dean’s social worker had gotten for him when they first moved in. Solid wood. Solid, heavy wood that was crushing Jo’s partner. "Oh, God," Sam breathed out, hands grabbing for the edge and lifting it with Jo’s help. It took several attempts to move the piece of furniture before Brandon was freed from under it. After the dresser was out of the way, Jo dropped to Brandon’s side, checking vitals and trying to get him to wake up.
"Brandon? Brandon open your eyes!"
"We need to get him to the hospital," Sam said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he watched the scene unfold before him. He didn’t have to remember throwing a dresser with his mind to know that that was exactly what had happened. His head was throbbing again but it was a different kind of pain. Like when you had to hold your breath too long and you nearly passed out from the lack of oxygen.
"Sam what the hell happened?!" Jo yelled, not facing him, keeping her entire focus on Brandon. "Brandon, wake up. Shit. Sam?"
"I don’t know. Oh God, I don’t know, Jo. Come on, we need to get him to the hospital," Sam said, kneeling on the other side of Brandon and lifting him up. The guy was heavy; his stocky build made him unwieldy. The only way Sam was able to hold all his weight was to put Brandon over his shoulder.
"Get the door," he ordered, and Jo obliged as they headed down the three flights of stairs to Jo’s truck. With each step, Sam felt his guilt build. He’d done this. Whether he intended to or not, he’d done this. If Brandon didn’t pull through, Jo would never forgive him-hell, Sam didn’t even know if he’d forgive himself. He knew that stuff was happening around him. After what Dean had told him yesterday, he should have never even answered the door, but he had, and maybe it had just cost someone his life. Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to live with that.
They reached the ground floor and headed out the back. "Careful, Sam," Jo said as she opened the door. As cautiously as he could, Sam set Brandon in the passenger seat. A groan escaped the hunter, and both he and Jo took that as a sign that maybe it wasn’t too late. She ran around to the other side of the truck and started it up.
"The hospital is on the corner of Ninth and Pleasant. Just take this down to Ninth and take a right; it should be two blocks down. I have to go, Jo. I’m so sorry, God…I’m just so sorry. Call Dean, tell him what happened; he’ll know what to do." Sam gave Jo and Brandon one last look before closing the truck door and backing away.
"Sam, get in the truck!" Jo called, climbing out and watching him as he moved away.
Sam swallowed a heavy lump and shook his head. "I can’t…it’s not safe around me. Just go. He doesn’t have much time. Tell Dean I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here."
"Sam!"
Sam turned and headed toward his car and got in. He started up the engine and pulled out. Really he had no idea where he was going, but it had to be away from here. Until he could figure out what was happening he needed to stay away from the people he loved.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Dean hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Ellen said to let them worry about finding Sam, but that wasn’t going to happen. How was he supposed to sit here and do nothing while his brother was God knows where doing God knows what? He had to find Sam before something else happened.
"Dean?" a quiet voice behind him called.
Dean turned around and was taken aback by Jo’s tear stained cheeks. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but didn’t have to. It was written all over her face, from her blood shot eyes to the way she was biting down on her lip to keep from crying. And he didn’t want to believe it, for her sake or Sam’s, but the truth wouldn’t be denied.
"How? He was fine when I left," Dean said quietly
"He crashed a few minutes after you went outside. He crashed, and they couldn’t bring him back. Too much internal bleeding, they couldn’t repair all the damage," Jo explained quickly, coldly. "He’s gone."
"Jo-"
"What the hell happened back there? Answer me, Dean!" Her tone went from flat to angry, and she was hurling hot, tearful words at him. "What the hell happened that five hours ago I was heading to a hunt, and now my partner is dead?"
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but words wouldn’t form. What could he say? There was nothing that was going to make this better. Nothing that was going to bring Brandon back or fix what was happening with Sam.
"I’m so sorry, Jo," Dean said, his voice steady and strong, though his insides felt like they were all twisted around.
Jo stared at him long and hard before shaking her head and moving to go past him. Dean caught he before she could get by, pulling her to him in a tight hug that she fought for only a moment before eventually giving in. He could feel her hot tears soaking through his shirt, but she didn’t make a sound as she cried. Maybe that was most heartbreaking of all.
When she was done, she pulled back, wiping her wet cheeks and looking off towards the parking lot. Her whole demeanor was hardening right before his eyes. She was building up walls to protect herself. Dean could understand that. When she spoke, it was with a solid, unshaking tone.
"We need to salt and burn Brandon’s body, and then we’ll find Sam." There was no suggestion in the words; she was just stating the facts. This was how it was going to happen, end of story. All Dean could do was nod.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
He didn’t want to leave Jo alone, but there were things that needed to be taken care of. Dean left her in the capable hands out Nurse Maria who was helping her sign out Brandon’s body for a private burial. It would take some time to get all the paperwork together though, and Dean had things that needed to be taken care of. Without much of a goodbye, Dean had headed out to the parking lot and climbed into his Impala to head to his social worker’s officer.
The drive was short, and Dean found his mind wandering to the few memories of Brandon he had. He hadn’t known the guy real well, but he’d been there for Jo for a long time now. Dean respected that.
He parked in the small parking lot before heading inside the office building and immediately seeking out Janice Wyler’s office. This was a sort of unannounced meeting; he could only hope she had time for him because he didn’t have a whole lot of time to linger around. He knocked twice on the office door and breathed out a sigh of relief when she opened and he saw no one was in with her.
"Dean," she smiled softly, motioning for him to come in before moving back around her desk to take a seat.
Dean smiled back as best he could. He and Janice had always gotten along well. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes. No supermodel or anything, but she had a quality about her that was very attractive. She was sweet too and seemed to really look out for him, though he was fairly certain he could take care of himself. All in all, he liked Janice; he just hoped today she didn’t give him a reason to change his opinion.
"This is unexpected. Everything going alright?" she asked, motioning for him to take a seat. He did, if only to make her feel more comfortable.
"Not exactly alright, no," Dean shook his head. "A friend died a few hours ago."
"A friend?" Janice asked. "That’s terrible. Death can be difficult to deal with, and I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean. Would you like me to set up and extra session with Dr. Crosier? I’m sure she could fit you into her schedule."
"That’s not really why I’m here," Dean shook his head. "The burial is going to be in Boston. I need to leave town for a few days to go."
"You know the conditions of your parole," Janice said slowly, leaning back in her chair.
"I do. Which is why I’m here. I need to go. I need to say goodbye," Dean insisted.
"What’s your friend’s name?"
"Brandon Carl. You can check with Mercy hospital. Jo Harvell is taking charge of his body for a private burial in Boston. You can check it all out, I’m not lying."
"I believe you," Janice assured. She let out a long breath and tapped her pen on the desk for a moment before finally nodding. "Okay, Dean. How long do you need?"
"A week at least. I’m driving out there. It’s not a short drive either," Dean replied quickly.
"Alright. I’ll clear everything with Dr. Crosier. I’m going to want you back in town by next Tuesday. That means in my office and accounted for at 9am sharp."
"I’ll be here," Dean said, standing up and moving towards the door.
"And Dean," Janice called to him. "If you need an ear…I mean, I know you have Dr. Crosier, but if you just need someone to listen and not analyze, I’m here."
"Thanks." Dean nodded before turning and heading out the door.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Ellen paused in what she was reading, her eyes going over the words once again to make sure they were right. When she was certain she read them correctly, she leaned back in her chair, taking a steadying breath. "Bobby, come here and read this," she called, standing up and moving away from the large book to give the other hunter a chance to read through the text.
Bobby stepped away from the scrolls he was going through and moved to take her vacated seat, his eyes scanning the old parchment. It took him a few minutes to read over, and she could see him double checking that he’d read correctly before he finally spoke. "Shit," Bobby mumbled. "You don’t think-"
"It’s the only logical explanation," Ellen cut him off.
"Call Dean, let him know." Bobby continued to read the book while Ellen reached for her cell phone.
"He’s not gonna take this well," she said, deciding that someone had to say the obvious.
"Like it or not, he needs to know."
XOXOXOXOXOXOX
Dean pulled into the hospital parking lot and got out of the car. As he headed inside, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he stopped just outside the ER, flipping the thing open. "Got anything?"
"Dean, where are you?"
"Just outside the hospital," he replied.
"Jo?"
"Not good, Brandon didn’t pull through," Dean replied solemnly.
"Jesus," Ellen whispered. And what else was there to say beyond that?
"I know. We’re going to salt and burn his bones and then start looking for Sam."
"How’s Jo handling it?" Ellen asked.
"She could be better…she could be doing a lot worse too. I was just about to head in there. You call for a reason?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, yeah actually I did," Ellen responded. "Dean...I don’t know how to say this."
"Just spitting it out usually works best for me."
"You might wanna sit down."
"Why don’t you just tell me, Ellen."
Ellen let out a long breath over the phone, he could tell she was apprehensive about saying whatever it was she was about to say. It was starting to put Dean on edge.
"Ellen?"
"We think we know what’s happening with Sam."
"What? What did you find out?"
"We think he’s turning, Dean."
"What do you mean? Turning into what?" he asked, confused. He could guess and speculate, but he needed to hear it from her mouth.
"A demon. It explains the outburst of that he’s having, he’s only going to become more and more dangerous as the outburst become more powerful and more frequent."
He could hear the apology in her voice, but he couldn’t concentrate on that now. Right at that moment, he needed to know everything Ellen knew. "How? How is this happening?" Dean demanded to know. "I stopped the ritual. Sam should be fine! What the hell went wrong?"
"We can’t be sure, Dean, but it looks like whatever the demon did, he anticipated you finding a way to beat him, maybe he was even counting on it, I don’t know. But he put a kind of lock on Sam, I don’t know how else to explain it. What he started, only he can stop. Once the ritual was started, it had to be reversed or else the changes would continue, even if the ritual was interrupted. Even if you kill this thing, Dean, it won’t save your brother. The demon has to be released and he has to reverse this himself."
"No." Dean shook his head. "No, we can’t just free this guy."
"I’m not suggesting you do," Ellen said quickly.
"Then what are you suggesting?" Dean snapped.
"We need to find Sam, and we need to find him fast."
"We have to stop this, Ellen. We have to. I can’t loose Sam again. I don’t care how many fucking books you have to read or how damn long it takes, find an answer!"
There was a long paused before Ellen spoke again. "We’re trying, Dean."
"Well try harder!" He snapped the phone closed and looked down at the ground for a moment, taking calming breaths. What the hell was he going to do? Even if he released the demon, what were the odds he’d reverse what it'd done to Sam? The demon wasn’t going to be satisfied with letting the Dean go either. There was one thing this demon wanted, and it looked like Dean was going to have to give it up.
Pushing the thought aside, Dean headed inside. The hospital was big, but he had to track Jo down. First they’d take care of Brandon, and then they’d find Sam.