Rock Paper Scissors Chapter Nine
Summary: Sam should've know Dean would pick scissors. He always picks scissors...
"Hookers?" Bobby repeated as he leaned back in his chair at his desk, holding the receiver to his ear.
"Scantily dressed women..." Sam said from the other line, "Who may or may not have been selling themselves for money, at the time of their death...yes."
"And they had the same marks on 'em as they gave Dean?"
"As far as I could tell."
"Was there any way their bodies could still be in that alley?"
"From what I saw, other than a dumpster, it doesn't seem like there's any place they could be."
"Ya said Dean's cold," Bobby glanced around in thought. "If he's experiencing what they did before death, it's possible that the place they spent their final moments, was in some place cold."
"What happens if I don't find it?"
Bobby ran a weary hand down his face and took a breath, "Odds are, whatever they did to Dean, could be their misdirected revenge on whoever did this to them. Depending on how long it took them to die, however it was that they died, I'd have to assume that that's how long Dean's got..."
"Are you tell-" Sam paused, and Bobby heard a rustling sound on the other line, before what sounded like a door closing, and Sam continued in a quieter voice, "Are you telling me that Dean could die, Bobby?"
"I can come out there and help you..."
"It's like fourteen-hundred miles, Bobby. It'd take a straight day for you to get here, and we don't know that he's got that long."
"I can fly out there..." Bobby could almost hear the thick uncertainty and waves of panic coming through the phone line. "Look, Sam... Those things are tethered to that alley. You go in, you go prepared, this time; especially since you're goin' alone. Ya might be able to spot somethin' without havin' to step into the alley at all. Maybe you can find it before I get in, then we'll go take care of it."
Sam was silent for a moment, but eventually replied, "Okay."
"If I've got anyone out that way, I'll see if I can't send 'em by. I know you don't wanna leave Dean by himself, and I don't feel right about you goin' out there by yourself, either."
"I gotta go, Bobby," he said, suddenly. "Let me know, okay?"
"Sure, son. And uh...happy birthday...for what it's worth."
"Thanks. Night, Bobby..." The other line went dead. Bobby hung the receiver on its cradle before slumping back in the chair again with a heavy sigh. It was late, and calls needed to be made. He'd been a bit worried about Sam, before all of this. But now, they had even more piled on their plates. There was more than one reason Bobby was worried for the younger Winchester, now. And it didn't look like there was much he could do, sitting at his desk...24 driving hours away from his surrogate sons...
________________________________________
Sam quickly ended the call when he realized Dean was still fairly violently shivering under the multiple layers of covers. Dropping the phone on his own bed, he made his way to his brother's bedside. "Dean?" The only reply he received was a short grunt; seemingly the only thing he could respond with.
"Dean, I'm not sure what to do..." he hesitated, then thought to climb under the covers beside him.
"S-s-so c-c'ld, S-Sam-my..." Dean stuttered out in a whisper.
"I know," Sam pulled Dean flush against him and wrapped his arms around his shaking body. His own body shivered at the sensation of pure cold that seeped quickly through his own layers of clothing. "Gonna try and warm you up," he told him, "Then go out and find the remains and get rid of them. That'll fix this..."
"Can't...g-go 'lone, S'my," he replied, burrowing against his brother, seeking the warmth.
"Don't really have much of a choice, now do I?" he let out a light snicker.
"M-m'nt m-me," Dean replied. "Don't w'nna g-go...'lone..."
Sam flinched at the sudden realization of what his brother was saying. He thought he was dying? "You're not goin' anywhere, Dean," he reassured him. "I'm gonna figure this out." But he could feel the change in breathing pattern in his older brother. He was panicking.
"Sam..."
"You're gonna be fine, Dean!" he pressed.
"Sam,...can't...can't breathe..."
Sam pulled away just as Dean started taking struggled gasps for air; panic becoming more and more evident on his face. "Dean?" he bolted upright in an instant, throwing the blankets off of Dean. He tried not to panic as he turned Dean onto his back. "What do you mean, you can't breathe?" he asked as he checked the pulse at Dean's neck.
"Can't get...'nuff air," he explained between breaths. "'S like I'm...suf'cating..."
Sam's eyes darted around the air between them, and he swallowed down the fear that was threatening to spill over. "I'm gonna go find the remains," he said, standing from the bed.
"No-"
"Dean, you could die!"
"'xactly," he breathed. "No time..."
"If I leave now, I might be able to..."
"Don' wanna...die 'lone, S'mmy," Dean begged. "Please... You won't...make it. An' I'll die...alone...an' then...so will you..."
Sam hesitated; his breaths coming as fast as Dean's, but for a completely different reason. Part of him knew Dean was right. But the other part was screaming at him to do something; anything. Anything but stay there and...
"Please, Sam..." Dean's voice pulled Sam's eyes back to him.
"I don't wanna watch you die, Dean," he told him, his eyes stinging. "Not if there's a chance that I might be able to save you..."
"And get your...self killed...in the process?"
"Dean-"
"No, Sam!" his breath quickened with his panic. "It'd take...a miracle...for you to...find them..."
Sam shook his head, defiantly, trying to find some way to convince him that he could do this."A miracle..." the thought crossed his mind. New hope graced his features. "Castiel!" he shouted. "Dean, you gotta call him!"
"He's...finding...out...'bout...wall..."
"Castiel, we need you!" Sam ignored his brother's ridiculous argument. "It's an emergency! Life and death! Dean's in trouble, Cas!"
There were several long seconds that passed. Enough to make the worry reignite in Sam's heart. But then he heard the flap of wings behind him. "What's happened?" the angel asked.
"Ghost sickness," Sam tried to give the short version. "We need to find the remains...Dean could die!"
"Where? Where did this happen?" Cas asked as he approached the side of the bed. Dean's eyes were heavy-lidded, now; seeming less aware of his surroundings.
"Couple blocks west from here; alley way," Sam told him. Without warning, Castiel was suddenly gone. Sam's eyes refocused on his brother, who had suddenly gotten a lot quieter. He rushed to Dean's side when he saw how still he'd become. "Dean?" he slid into the bed beside him and grabbed his shoulder.
Sam could only make out very small breath sounds wheezing from his brother's chest. Dean's eyes were unfocused and lethargic. Sam felt a horrid feeling of dread wash over him, and he pulled Dean up to lay back against his chest, as he leaned back on the headboard. He held onto him, perhaps in an attempt to give some of his own strength to Dean.
"It's gonna be okay, Dean," his voice cracked. "Everything's gonna be okay..."
He hoped that he was right...
What seemed like hours later, but was actually less than a minute, Dean suddenly sucked in a deep breath; his body stiffening from it's previously slackened state, and his hands gripping onto his brother's legs on either side of him, perhaps to ground himself.
"Dean?"
"Sammy?" he grounded out.
Then Castiel was suddenly before them at the edge of the bed...
Chapter Ten
"Hookers?" Bobby repeated as he leaned back in his chair at his desk, holding the receiver to his ear.
"Scantily dressed women..." Sam said from the other line, "Who may or may not have been selling themselves for money, at the time of their death...yes."
"And they had the same marks on 'em as they gave Dean?"
"As far as I could tell."
"Was there any way their bodies could still be in that alley?"
"From what I saw, other than a dumpster, it doesn't seem like there's any place they could be."
"Ya said Dean's cold," Bobby glanced around in thought. "If he's experiencing what they did before death, it's possible that the place they spent their final moments, was in some place cold."
"What happens if I don't find it?"
Bobby ran a weary hand down his face and took a breath, "Odds are, whatever they did to Dean, could be their misdirected revenge on whoever did this to them. Depending on how long it took them to die, however it was that they died, I'd have to assume that that's how long Dean's got..."
"Are you tell-" Sam paused, and Bobby heard a rustling sound on the other line, before what sounded like a door closing, and Sam continued in a quieter voice, "Are you telling me that Dean could die, Bobby?"
"I can come out there and help you..."
"It's like fourteen-hundred miles, Bobby. It'd take a straight day for you to get here, and we don't know that he's got that long."
"I can fly out there..." Bobby could almost hear the thick uncertainty and waves of panic coming through the phone line. "Look, Sam... Those things are tethered to that alley. You go in, you go prepared, this time; especially since you're goin' alone. Ya might be able to spot somethin' without havin' to step into the alley at all. Maybe you can find it before I get in, then we'll go take care of it."
Sam was silent for a moment, but eventually replied, "Okay."
"If I've got anyone out that way, I'll see if I can't send 'em by. I know you don't wanna leave Dean by himself, and I don't feel right about you goin' out there by yourself, either."
"I gotta go, Bobby," he said, suddenly. "Let me know, okay?"
"Sure, son. And uh...happy birthday...for what it's worth."
"Thanks. Night, Bobby..." The other line went dead. Bobby hung the receiver on its cradle before slumping back in the chair again with a heavy sigh. It was late, and calls needed to be made. He'd been a bit worried about Sam, before all of this. But now, they had even more piled on their plates. There was more than one reason Bobby was worried for the younger Winchester, now. And it didn't look like there was much he could do, sitting at his desk...24 driving hours away from his surrogate sons...
________________________________________
Sam quickly ended the call when he realized Dean was still fairly violently shivering under the multiple layers of covers. Dropping the phone on his own bed, he made his way to his brother's bedside. "Dean?" The only reply he received was a short grunt; seemingly the only thing he could respond with.
"Dean, I'm not sure what to do..." he hesitated, then thought to climb under the covers beside him.
"S-s-so c-c'ld, S-Sam-my..." Dean stuttered out in a whisper.
"I know," Sam pulled Dean flush against him and wrapped his arms around his shaking body. His own body shivered at the sensation of pure cold that seeped quickly through his own layers of clothing. "Gonna try and warm you up," he told him, "Then go out and find the remains and get rid of them. That'll fix this..."
"Can't...g-go 'lone, S'my," he replied, burrowing against his brother, seeking the warmth.
"Don't really have much of a choice, now do I?" he let out a light snicker.
"M-m'nt m-me," Dean replied. "Don't w'nna g-go...'lone..."
Sam flinched at the sudden realization of what his brother was saying. He thought he was dying? "You're not goin' anywhere, Dean," he reassured him. "I'm gonna figure this out." But he could feel the change in breathing pattern in his older brother. He was panicking.
"Sam..."
"You're gonna be fine, Dean!" he pressed.
"Sam,...can't...can't breathe..."
Sam pulled away just as Dean started taking struggled gasps for air; panic becoming more and more evident on his face. "Dean?" he bolted upright in an instant, throwing the blankets off of Dean. He tried not to panic as he turned Dean onto his back. "What do you mean, you can't breathe?" he asked as he checked the pulse at Dean's neck.
"Can't get...'nuff air," he explained between breaths. "'S like I'm...suf'cating..."
Sam's eyes darted around the air between them, and he swallowed down the fear that was threatening to spill over. "I'm gonna go find the remains," he said, standing from the bed.
"No-"
"Dean, you could die!"
"'xactly," he breathed. "No time..."
"If I leave now, I might be able to..."
"Don' wanna...die 'lone, S'mmy," Dean begged. "Please... You won't...make it. An' I'll die...alone...an' then...so will you..."
Sam hesitated; his breaths coming as fast as Dean's, but for a completely different reason. Part of him knew Dean was right. But the other part was screaming at him to do something; anything. Anything but stay there and...
"Please, Sam..." Dean's voice pulled Sam's eyes back to him.
"I don't wanna watch you die, Dean," he told him, his eyes stinging. "Not if there's a chance that I might be able to save you..."
"And get your...self killed...in the process?"
"Dean-"
"No, Sam!" his breath quickened with his panic. "It'd take...a miracle...for you to...find them..."
Sam shook his head, defiantly, trying to find some way to convince him that he could do this."A miracle..." the thought crossed his mind. New hope graced his features. "Castiel!" he shouted. "Dean, you gotta call him!"
"He's...finding...out...'bout...wall..."
"Castiel, we need you!" Sam ignored his brother's ridiculous argument. "It's an emergency! Life and death! Dean's in trouble, Cas!"
There were several long seconds that passed. Enough to make the worry reignite in Sam's heart. But then he heard the flap of wings behind him. "What's happened?" the angel asked.
"Ghost sickness," Sam tried to give the short version. "We need to find the remains...Dean could die!"
"Where? Where did this happen?" Cas asked as he approached the side of the bed. Dean's eyes were heavy-lidded, now; seeming less aware of his surroundings.
"Couple blocks west from here; alley way," Sam told him. Without warning, Castiel was suddenly gone. Sam's eyes refocused on his brother, who had suddenly gotten a lot quieter. He rushed to Dean's side when he saw how still he'd become. "Dean?" he slid into the bed beside him and grabbed his shoulder.
Sam could only make out very small breath sounds wheezing from his brother's chest. Dean's eyes were unfocused and lethargic. Sam felt a horrid feeling of dread wash over him, and he pulled Dean up to lay back against his chest, as he leaned back on the headboard. He held onto him, perhaps in an attempt to give some of his own strength to Dean.
"It's gonna be okay, Dean," his voice cracked. "Everything's gonna be okay..."
He hoped that he was right...
What seemed like hours later, but was actually less than a minute, Dean suddenly sucked in a deep breath; his body stiffening from it's previously slackened state, and his hands gripping onto his brother's legs on either side of him, perhaps to ground himself.
"Dean?"
"Sammy?" he grounded out.
Then Castiel was suddenly before them at the edge of the bed...
Chapter Ten