A Storm Is Going To Come (Brotherhood AU)
A Storm Is Going To Come
Author: Lamia Jade
Summary: BROTHERHOOD AU. It was supposed to be a simple hunt but after an unforeseen attack things are going downhill fast for one of them. Something's out there and determined to kill. A race against time begins. Hurt/sick!Caleb Hurt/Sick!Dean. Dean 19 & Sam 15
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst
A/N: Welcome to round two! :)
A/N: I don't know why but everytime I try to post this chap LJ shows an Error Message about a too long post. *sighs* So no confusion - I splitted the chapter into two parts.
A/N: My hugest thanks to Enkidu07 for beta'ing this despite major time issues. Honey, you rock! And I really don't know what I would do without you! *smishes you* And a special thanks to The Kritty! <3
Disclaimer: See chap one.
Have fun reading and please let me know what you think about it. *puppy dog eyes*
Previously: "It's going to be okay, Dean, I promise we'll figure this out. Just have faith, boy. And call me if something changes. " The pastor assured warmly and hell, Dean really wanted to believe that.
"Yeah. Bye Jim." The middle Winchester mumbled, ended the call and shoved the cell back into his pocket.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Dean, what the hell…?" Sam snapped.
"Jim will be here in the morning. He also tries to reach Dad and Mac." Dean informed his still fuming brother.
"Dean nothing about the wound is okay. Okay, the bleeding has slowed but we can't be sure that there's not some internal damage."
"Sam…" Dean said wearily, his right hand rubbing unconsciously over his left arm, soothing the small cramp that had started there. "Pastor Jim said we should clean the wound with holy water. If this stuff goes apeshit we sit this one out at the motel. But if nothing happens we drive to the closest ER ASAP, okay?"
It was the closest thing he could offer as a peace offering.
He knew Sam was as worried about Caleb as he was so he couldn't blame the kid for playing momma bear though it was slowly but surely getting old to be treated as the enemy here.
"Okay, Sammy?" He asked again when his brother didn't answer.
The youngest Winchester sighed, his gaze going back to Caleb's fitful sleeping form.
"Okay." The kid eventually agreed in a soft voice. Again Dean could see Sam de-aging in front of his eyes, becoming the lost child again.
"It's going to be okay, Sammy. Damien's gonna be fine. You know him, stubborn as hell. He'll beat this crap - whatever it is." Dean assured confidently. He couldn't say who his words should reassure more - Sammy or him.
Through the curtain of rain he could make out lights on the horizon. Maybe five more minutes and they were back at the motel.
ooooooo
"Come on Damien, a little help here would be great." Dean groaned while dragging a semi-conscious Caleb through the still pouring rain into their motel room.
Sam had already opened the door and was now helping his brother to get the hurt psychic inside.
Caleb groaned in pain, his head had come to a rest on his chest, his pale face hidden by his way too long hair.
Together they settled the psychic on the bed furthest from the door. Caleb didn't show any reaction at all which really worried Dean.
He ran a hand through his still damp short hair, tried desperately to calm his racing thoughts. One problem at a time.
Dean exhaled slowly and focused his gaze on Sam who was hastily rifling through their bags in search for the first-aid kit.
Sam's clothes were still soaked to the skin. Come to think about it - they all were still soaked. An involuntary shiver ran through Dean's body and re-woke the gash on his arm.
Absently he stretched and flexed his fingers to ease the sudden pain.
"Sammy go get changed before you catch a cold or god knows what else. You're soaked." Dean said, his big-brother-instincts kicking in full force.
"Dean, it's okay. We have to take care of Caleb first and you need help if you want to clean the wound with holy water." Sam said, gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering.
"Come on, Sammy, I can see the shivers from here so don't be stupid." He said gently and took the first-aid kit out of the boy's hands, briefly squeezing his arm in a reassuring manner.
With a serious look on his face Dean added "Besides, I can't deal with both of you down for the count."
"Dean…"
"Because dealing with you sick and cranky and bitching is a fulltime job as it is." Dean grinned and went back to the bed where Reaves shifted slightly. "So you better hurry."
Sam only rolled his eyes and went with a pile of dry cloths into the bathroom. "You're unbelievable." He muttered under his breath before shutting the door.
Eventually alone in the room Dean's grin faded quickly. A concerned frown appeared on his face as he eyed his best friend closely.
Caleb seemed even paler than before, the fevered flush on his cheeks stood in a stark contrast to it. Sweat plastered strands of his hair to his face but they couldn't hide the pain lines which were visible even in sleep.
Dean swallowed hard. God he wished his Dad were here. Or Mac, or Jim, or Bobby, or - anyone.
He shook his head slightly. Hell, what was wrong with him? He had to get a grip for god's sake. He couldn't let Damien down and him freaking out wouldn't help Sammy either.
Caleb moaned softly, his eyes moving rapidly under closed lids.
Dean slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand gently slapping the older man's cheek. He cringed at the warmth that was seeping into his palm.
"Come on, Damien, nap time is over." Dean said but got no reaction. He tried it again, harder this time. "It's time to wake up, Caleb. Come one, man, this is so not cool." God, he felt like ten again. But this time he got the reaction he had hoped for - Reaves's eyes fluttered lightly before opening to mere glassy slits.
"Hey, you with me Caleb?" Dean watched the unfocused amber eyes roaming through the room, trying to make sense of everything, and finally coming to a rest on him.
Caleb sluggishly blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision. "Deuce?"
"The one and only." Dean grinned, relieved to see the psychic awake.
"W-whr?" Reaves's eyes drifted through the room again though Dean doubted that he was really seeing something. " 'spital?" He got even more agitated.
"Whoa there, Damien." Dean placed a hand on Caleb's chest to keep him from bolting upright. Okay, so maybe not so awake then.
"It's okay, Caleb calm down. We're back at the motel. You fainted during the ride home." He saw his words slowly sinking in, felt the psychic relax beneath his hand. Dean waited for a smart-ass remark about the fainting-part but nothing came.
"Caleb, we have to clean the wound. And I think it needs stitches." Dean carefully lifted the damp shirt. The gauze was bloody but it seemed that the bleeding had slowed.
Reaves nodded slightly, his eyes barely open and fixed on something only he could see.
"G-get it … out. 's burning… H-hurts…"
The knot in Dean's gut twisted painfully. Concern and fear battled for the upper hand inside his chest. He had never seen the older hunter this vulnerable before and it scared him.
"Easy. It's okay. I'll take care of it but you have to calm down, okay?" Dean soothed. For a second time he felt Caleb relax underneath his hands.
As carefully as possible he removed the bandages.
The wound was ragged and angry looking. The bleeding had slowed to a sluggish trickle but it still needed a few stitches to fully stop it.
Dean fished the Peroxide and new gauze out of the kit.
His left hand shook slightly, the pain the gash was causing slowly increased. He pushed the pain into a far corner of his mind. He would clean it later.
ooooooo
Dean was through the second round of cleaning the wound with Peroxide when Sam emerged from the bathroom.
The middle Winchester cast a quick glance to Caleb whose eyes were closed again, though Dean could tell that he wasn't sleeping or hadn't passed out yet.
"How is he?" Sam came to a stand next to Dean, his gaze locked on the psychic's pale face.
Dean looked at his brother before refocusing on the task at hand. "Same as before. Can you get the holy water from the duffel?"
Tiredly he rubbed a hand over his face. He so didn't want to do this.
A frown appeared on Sam's brow. "Dean, you're bleeding." He grabbed for his brother's arm to get a better look at the wound but Dean stopped him mid-motion.
"It's okay. It's just a scratch. Probably some stupid branch that grazed me on the way back out."
Sam didn't seem convinced. The frown on his forehead deepened. "But this looks deeper than just a branch that grazed you."
"Sammy, come on, it's nothing, just a stupid scratch. I'll take care of it in a bit. Can we please focus back on Caleb now? I'd prefer to be done with this. I'm still wet and cold and I just want to hit the shower." He knew it was a low blow but it was also a tactic that always worked.
"Sure." Sam nodded and went for the flask of holy water. Dean didn't miss the lost puppy look on his face. Damn.
"Sammy…" He didn't know what to say exactly. Sam wasn't a kid anymore. A few nice words and a hug wouldn't be enough to make it all better anymore.
Sam showed Dean a shaky smile. At this moment he looked so much younger than his fifteen years. Maybe to just be Captain One-helluva Big Brother would still be enough to make things at least a little better.
Sam sighed and sat down on Reaves's other side, one hand gently placing on the older hunter's forehead. He cringed at the warmth he felt.
"Dean, we need to get the fever down." Sam said alarmed.
"Yeah, but one problem at a time." Dean took the flask Sam handed to him and unscrewed it. "First we need to take care of this." He shook his best friend's shoulder. Reaves's eyes fluttered slightly before they opened to mere glassy slits of amber. "Hey, you with us?"
Caleb blinked a few times to clear his bleary vision though it didn't look like it worked well.
"Caleb can you hear us?" Sam asked worriedly, one hand squeezing the older hunter's shoulder lightly.
"Loud … an' c-clearly, 'specially when … y' practically … yell into … m-my ear." Reaves's mumbled hoarsely and blinked again. His lids seemed to weight tons.
Sam grinned sheepishly and squeezed Caleb's shoulder again. "Anything that works."
"Damien, listen, we need to clean the wound with holy water. If this is really some kind of supernatural shit it's not going to be fun." Dean said seriously.
"J-jus' get it … done. C-can't … get much …. w-worse than this." Reaves's pressed out through gritted teeth, his eyes closing again.
Dean nodded slightly, his eyes locking with Sam's. "Hold him down. Like I said, if this is some supernatural crap …" He tightened his grip around the flask.
Sam moved behind Caleb, his hands tightening their hold on the older hunter's shoulders.
Dean exhaled slowly and then dosed the arrow wound with holy water.
The reaction was instantly, the holy water acting like pure acid.
Reaves's back arched from the bed, his legs kicking out in a desperate try to get up.
"Sam, hold him down!" Dean swore. He had a hard time doing the same with the psychic's legs.
Reaves's yaw clenched shut tightly in an attempt to suppress a scream. His body rigid with pain.
"Damnit, Caleb breathe!" Dean yelled emphatically, his own panic audible in his voice. He shared a quick glance with Sam, not liking the kid's huge eyes.
Ever so slowly the reaction of the holy water subsided and Reaves relaxed back onto the bed. His breathing coming in long ragged gulps of air, his face even paler than before, eyes clenched shut. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead and temples.
Sam let out a shaky breath and loosened his hold on Caleb's shoulders a little. "Guess you were right about the poison."
Dean eyed his little brother for a brief moment, silently asking if he was okay.
Sam nodded slightly, letting out a shaky sigh.
"Damien, you still with us?"
"That was … fun…" Reaves's gasped, his face a mask of pain.
"You know we're not done yet, don't you?" Dean ran a hand through his short hair, still trying to calm his racing heart.
The psychic nodded, preparing himself for the next round of agony.
"Sammy, you ready?"
The boy tightened his hold again. "Think so." He didn't sound convinced.
"One more time then we're done." Dean couldn't say who he tried to reassure. He so didn't want to do this. Hurting his best friend more than he was already. But it had to be done. And the holy water would hopefully slow down the spreading of the poison.
The reaction was still the same except that this time Caleb couldn't hold back a scream.
The pure agony in his friend's voice made Dean's blood ran cold.
"Come on, Damien, it's okay. It's going to be okay." The middle Winchester's words a mumbled mantra of soothing nonsense.
Suddenly Reaves's body went limp, relaxing back onto the bed and into Sam's arms.
"Dean?" Sam's wide eyes went from Caleb to his brother, his voice shaky with fear.
"It's okay. It's probably the best for him. At least he's not feeling the pain anymore." Dean said calmly. He tried his best to ignore the slowly blossoming panic inside his chest. Damn, they needed help. Real help. Not somebody on the phone.
"Sammy, can you call Jim again? Tell him that we used the holy water. And ask him if he had heard something from Dad so far." Dean angled for the first-aid kit again but never taking his eyes of his brother's face.
Sam nodded but didn't move. His gaze still rested on the psychic's lax features.
"Sam!" Dean said louder this time, more forcefully. It got the wanted reaction. Sam flinched slightly, his eyes finally meeting Dean's.
"Call Jim again, okay? I'll take care of the rest here." The middle Winchester repeated. He held his brother's gaze a moment longer, watched him nodding and crawling from the bed.
Dean sighed softly and rubbed a hand over his forehead. A headache slowly started pounding behind his eyes.
"Shit, Damien, hang in there, okay?" He mumbled softly.
ooooooo
John Winchester slowly slid behind the steering-wheel of his truck, successfully ignoring the many pains and aches which were spread all over his body.
God this hunt was fucked up from the get go. Sure, they got the damn Shtriga in the end but its death came still too late for a few of the kids.
He threw a quick side-glance to Mac who was pinching the bridge of his nose with forefinger and thumb. His eyes were closed and a concerned frown slowly deepened on his brow.
"Mac? You okay?" John squeezed his friend's arm slightly to get his attention.
Mac's head shot up with a startled gasp.
"Whoa, there, tiger." Winchester eyed him concerned. "You okay?"
Mac blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "I don't know." The Scholar frowned. "I…" Mac's gaze got distant again.
"Damn it, Mac, don't you dare zoning out on me." John shook his friend roughly. "Come on, talk to me. What's wrong? Do I need to search for the next ER?"
Mac eyed the other hunter with wide eyes. "John, I … I think something's wrong with Caleb. I think he's hurt."
"What?" John asked shocked. "Did you …" Whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the sudden ringing of his cellphone.
oooooo
TBC…
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