Fic: The Adverse Effect
Title: The Adverse Effect
Genre: Wincest
Rating: PG
Spoiler: Ep 7-12
Word count: 2,900
Summary: Written for hoodie_time’s Challenge 6 : A Dean-focused h/c fic and art challenge based on the prompt by maypoles: I’ve noticed Dean seems to have done more time traveling than Sam/other people. Welll, what if there were negative after-effects on the human body and/or mind to this that no one anticipated?
AN: To my betas icelily01, thank you SO much for your valuable input on my writing, and novakev, thank you for your suggestions and lovely words. Love you both so much!
Panicked, Sam hurries to Dean’s side. Chronos is dead but that’s not the most important thing right now. Sam’s seen Dean stop moving, and he’s stopped thinking.
“Dean. Dean!”
Things are a blur as he carries Dean outside, running to their rented car and laying him down carefully in the passenger seat, half noticing someone else is climbing into the backseat.
Single-handedly Sam maneuvers the wheel, his other arm wound tight around Dean’s shoulder while Dean’s head rests unmoving on Sam’s shoulder. The ride to the hospital feels like a lifetime. Sam’s softly humming his prayers and Dean’s name and he runs his fingers in Dean’s hair. He has no idea what’s wrong with his brother; he and Sheriff Mills didn’t stop to check on him for fear of risking his life further. But Dean’s breath has been shallow, he’s burning up, and once every several seconds his body convulses. Sam tries to blank his mind and pushes harder on the accelerator.
Finally, the hospital sign. Sam sighs. At the emergency entrance Sam shouts and nurses and doctors come out with a stretcher. And then more shouts, people carefully moving Dean from the car to the gurney, pushing it past the door, and stopping Sam from going further. Sam combs his hair back, wheezing. A hand squeezes his shoulder from behind. Sheriff Mills. Sam grasps it and attempts a smile.
“He’ll be all right,” she says. Sam can only nod as his throat tightens. “Let’s sit down there while we wait.” The sheriff gently shoves Sam toward the row of plastic chairs lined up against the wall, but Sam shakes his head.
“I can’t. I - I need to be closer.”
The woman quiets, comprehension filling her eyes. Sam looks away. She must have seen how he acted toward Dean just now but he can’t bring himself to care. Chronos must have done something to him but the God of Time died already. Sam feels lost.
The curtain flips open and a young doctor steps out.
“Mr-”
Sam hesitates briefly, glancing at Sheriff Mills, who nods reassuringly.
“Winchester. It’s Sam Winchester. The one in there is my brother, Dean.”
“Well, Sam, I’m Dr. Ashton. About Dean-” A flicker of doubts flashes across his face. Sam tenses.
“What, Doc? What’s wrong with my brother?”
“He had prolonged seizures. We gave anticonvulsant and to avoid hypoventilation we administered the oxygen by nasal cannula, but…”
“But it didn’t work?”
Dr. Ashton scratches his two-day stubble. “He kept seizing, and things got weird.”
“Weird? Weird how?”
“Suddenly Dean started rambling. He was barely conscious, though.”
Sam’s ears perk at that. “What was he saying?”
Dr. Ashton frowns. “It doesn’t really make sense. I mean, Elliot Ness, a vintage car? Was he talking about a movie?”
Sam huffs somewhat in relief. At least the doctor is ready to write it off as something from a movie. But again, the doctor hasn’t finished yet.
“How about this, a time god draining people’s life essence?”
Sam swallows hard. “It’s from another movie?” he suggests.
Dr. Ashton lifts his eyebrows. “Well, all right. One more thing.”
“What?”
“Dean looked as if he was in a great deal of pain.”
~~~
That’s enough. Sam’s not waiting any longer. He brushes past the doctor, striding into the ER, and the sight that welcomes him almost sends him to his knees.
Dean’s seizing hard, held down by some orderlies as he’s wracked by the convulsions.
“Dean!” Sam charges toward him, grabbing his brother’s face as he slides to a halt next to the bed.
Dean groans, unaware of anything.
“God, Dean.” He strokes Dean’s face. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with him?” The next question is directed at Dr. Ashton who’s followed him inside.
“We found nothing in him apart, from the delirium. I’m very much concerned with his pains. We might try painkillers for him, something to get him to sleep now but we can give you the kind that’s not going to make him loopy.”
That might be what Dean needs, Sam thinks. He nods weakly. “Why not just try it, Doc.” Sam moves away to let them prepare the IV drips with the medicine. He goes out to tell the news to Sheriff Mills.
“Will the painkillers work, Sam?” she asks.
“They’re not going to cure him, no, only lessening his pains for a moment. Sheriff, you didn’t notice any gunshot wound or blood on him, did you?”
“No, Sam. Nothing. I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” Sam heaves a sigh. “I just hope the doc’s plan works. I hate to see him like that.”
“Oh, Sam, I’m sorry. Do you think we’re too late pulling him back from the past?”
Sam gazes at her, contemplating her words. “What are you talking about? He’s here with us, right?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Mills shrugs. “I’m not sure how you guys worked things out before. I’m just throwing out ideas. Physically Dean’s back, of course, but maybe, well, something happened to his soul?”
“I don’t know what to say. Do you think it has something to do with Chronos’ death?” His head throbs imagining Dean being in pain when he jumped back to 1944. He locks eyes with Sheriff Mills. “And we left his body in that house. We should do something before someone finds him.” His mind whirls. He gets panicked. He’s never been this careless before. But seeing Dean unconscious made him forget everything else.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re gonna salt and burn him?” Sam gapes.
“Of course not. But I can inform my deputies to handle the body.”
“We have to salt and burn him,” Sam insists, but then he gasps. “No, wait. You’re right.”
“I’m right?”
“Yeah. Better to keep the body for a while. I have a feeling that you’re right about Chronos, too.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“I think we missed something about the god. I need to do more research.”
Sheriff Mills nods. “Okay. You do the research while I’m off making sure no one lays a hand on Chronos’ body.” She moves closer, her arms open. It startles Sam but he welcomes her comforting hug. God knows they both need one tonight.
~~~
Sedated, Dean finally falls asleep. He looks peaceful for the first time since last night and Sam’s desperate for Dean to tell him how he feels. Where he feels the pain.
Sam claimed the spot next to Dean’s bed as his own once Dean was moved to a room. He took his laptop with him, having been browsing for Chronos for almost two hours now. Sheriff Mills returned after convincing her men not to do anything about the body found in the abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of the city. But Sam told her to go home to rest. Sam didn’t even bother entertaining her protest; he can’t have two people, one totally out of it and the other one on the verge of collapsing, on his hands. He just promised he’d contact her if necessary.
Sam massages his brow. He might be the one on the verge of collapsing but he can’t. Dean needs him. He closes down his laptop and puts it on the floor. Reaching out for Dean’s hand, he rests his head on the mattress and presses Dean’s hand to his lips, kissing it. Dean smells like some cologne unfamiliar to him. Perhaps it’s from his Back to the Future journey. Realizing that, Sam gets to thinking that Dean could not have been in pain at that time or he wouldn’t even have bothered using any cologne. Sam smiles to himself, looking over at Dean’s face, the lips, and he takes a deep breath. At least that’s a comforting thought.
~~~
The next thing Sam knows he’s awakened by fingers gently playing with his hair. Sam blinks open his eyes to Dean’s weak smile.
“Hey,” says Dean.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough from sleep. He clears his throat. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I’ve just been trampled by horses.”
Sam sits up straight. “You in pain now? I’ll get Dr. Ashton.” Sam’s been half rising from his chair but Dean grabs his wrist.
“No, please don’t.”
“Dean, he’s just going to give you something that’s not going to make you sleepy. Please. I hate to see you suffer like last night. What if you…”
“I’m going to be fine.”
Sam shakes his head. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Okay.”
“The first sign of pain, I’m calling the doctor.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re not going to fake it, pretending like you’re all right-”
“I said okay, Sam.”
Sam goes silent. “Okay,” he parrots then. “All right.”
“Come here.” Dean pats an empty space beside him, but Sam launches at him instead.
“God, I missed you.” Sam wraps his arms around Dean as much as he can. “I was so scared.”
But Dean tenses, and Sam wrenches back at once. “Is it starting again?” he asks, frowning.
“That’s nothing, Sam. I’m fine.” But the way Dean’s breath hitches says otherwise.
“What did I say,” Sam says.
Dean seems like he’s about say something but a low pained grunt cuts him off. Sam reaches for the emergency button.
It happens so fast. Dean’s as white as a sheet of paper when Sam turns back to him. Beads of sweat break out on Dean’s brow and his lower lip is trapped between his teeth. Sam strokes Dean’s brow, smoothes his hair tenderly, whispering soothing words.
“Sam…”
“Ssh. Doc Ashton will be here soon. You’ll be just fine.”
“It hurts, Sam.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
“Tell me, Dean. Tell me where exactly.”
“All. My head. My back. My - my chest.”
“Chest? Where?”
“My left.”
Sam never ceases with his stroking while his mind goes wild. Dean’s left chest - his heart? It nearly failed once when Dean got electrocuted in that basement. But how is that possible? It happened a couple of years ago.
His thoughts are interrupted when Dr. Ashton comes and adds the meds into the drip. Sam feels relieved and grateful when Dean visibly calms down, the lines on the corners of his eyes smoothing out.
“Thank you, Doc.”
The doctor only smiles and pats his back and is off to do his other duties. They talked earlier of the possibility of Sam taking Dean home and giving him painkillers every couple of hours. But Dr. Ashton didn’t let him. He still wanted to find out what was wrong with Dean.
When Sam takes his seat, Dean is not asleep but he doesn’t say anything, only gazes silently at Sam. Sam doesn’t ask any more questions. Dean needs to rest and he has something to dig through from Dean’s earlier answers.
~~~
“Sheriff Mills?”
“Sam, anything wrong? I’ll get there right away.”
“No, no. Listen. Have you ever heard of the Adverse Effect?”
“Uh, no. Adverse to what exactly?”
“Here. Dean told me just now where he’s feeling the pains.”
“And?”
“They’re everywhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Sam?”
“Well, it means everywhere. Every part of his body.”
“But he wasn’t injured. Or that’s what I thought…”
“No, he wasn’t injured now but he got hurt so many times in the past; once he even got electrocuted.”
“What are you talking about? What do they have to do with his condition right now?”
So Sam tells her about it, the thing they called The Adverse Effect.
“I read on the net that when you travel back in time, your body experiences again what happened to it before, including every injury and pain.”
Sam can almost hear Sheriff Mills wince in sympathy.
“But don’t you think it was supposed to happen when he went to that year, and not when he came back?”
Sam shrugs, but of course she can’t see that.
“I don’t know. It might have something to do with Chronos’ death.”
They both go quiet before suddenly she shouts so loudly Sam jumps in his chair.
“Sam!”
Sam curses silently.
“What, you got an idea?”
“Yes. It definitely has everything to do with Chronos’ death. Dean didn’t get the effect before because Chronos was there, too. Still alive. His existence might protect Dean somehow. But now that he’s dead, no one shields Dean from getting the effect.”
Sam would have shaken her hard for the brilliant idea if she happened to be close by.
“That’s excellent, Sheriff. You are amazing.”
“Aw, Sam,” Mills responds flatly.
“Maybe Castiel being in our time travel has also helped.”
“Who’s Castiel? You’ve been in more time travels?”
“Dean has actually - never mind. We have to think of a way to stop the effect.”
It’s obvious from Mills’ brief silence that she’s still intrigued with their time travel stories. She’s not going to let it slip later.
“The spell you did to send Chronos here…”
“What about it? We’re not calling him back here.”
Sheriff Mills sighs in despair. “It has to be one of those, right? Bobby’s books-”
“Hey,” Sam interrupts. “Think I read somewhere in one of those books about - wait. Right. Protection spell.”
“How’s it done?”
“Umm. Do you know Bobby’s spell book?”
“Sam-” It sounds like a Duh? coming from the sheriff’s mouth.
“All right, of course you don’t know.”
“Just tell me which one.”
Sam doesn’t hesitate. “It’s in a green jacket, kind of old, rather thick. Can you please… Or do you want to wait here while I go looking for it in his piles?”
“I can do it,” she says. “You stay with Dean. Is he okay?”
“The doctor gave him another dose. I think he’s sleepy now. Look, Sheriff. You helped us a lot. We owe you.”
“Now you shut up, Sam, and go back to your brother. You’ve left him for quite some time.”
Sam looks around the parking lot he’s in. “Yeah. I think I have to go back now.”
“I’ll be there with the book.”
~~~
Sam flips over the pages of the book Sheriff Mills brought him and he finally stops about the last quarter of the pages.
“Look. Protection spell. Blood from the one protecting and to be protected.” Sam reads out to the sheriff the other things they are going to need. After some time he looks up. “I have all those things but one.”
Sheriff looks at him. “Chronos’ blood.”
“Exactly. His body must be cold by now.”
They both fall silent, minds busy.
“The twig,” says Sam suddenly.
“What?”
“Where is it? The one I used to kill Chronos. Did you dump it?”
“Well, no. I thought you might need it again someday so I brought it with me in your car.”
Sam slams Bobby’s book closed so hard that Dean stirs awake. “You’re just incredible, you know that?”
“Sammy…”
“Dean.” Sam jumps up. “Nothing happened. Just go back to sleep, all right?” He lands a small kiss on Dean’s lips because he just can’t hold back.
Sheriff Mills fights the urge to smile but she fails. Sam blushes.
“I, uh…”
“Hey, I’m not saying anything or judging you, okay? It’s your and Dean’s lives. Let’s just save him, all right?”
“Okay. I’ll find the twig and get all the stuff. Hopefully there’s still blood on it that we can use.” He puts the book on the side table. “You all right staying here with Dean?”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
Sam smiles.
~~~
He feels relieved to find the wood and see the pointy end dark with dried blood. He slips it into his backpack where he’s put everything else. He will have to cut Dean to get some of his blood, another pain, albeit a meager one compared to the ordeal he’s going through at the moment. Sam pushes the trunk closed. The sooner he gets back, the better. He hates to have Dean depend on drugs.
Back in the room, Sam asks Sheriff Mills to hold a small bowl as he takes Dean’s hand and cuts his palm with their knife. Dean’s breath catches and he sends Sam a dazed look. “I’m sorry, Dean, but we need to do this.” Then he brings the bowl down to the floor, takes some wild herbs, wild flowers, tree barks, a pinch of salt, water, and flakes of Chronos’ dried blood, and begins to chant, “Servo mihi per totus vestri vires, O valde filiolus dies quod nox nocties.”
Half way through the spell Dean begins to groan before he turns into a full-on convulsion.
“Sam,” Sheriff Mills shrieks as she grapples over Dean’s body. Sam’s voice begins to shake. He glances at her and Dean but he keeps going. He just can’t stop, especially now. He goes on chanting, his voice getting stronger.
“Servo mihi per totus vestri vires, O valde filiolus dies quod nox nocties. Sic mote is exsisto. Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum.”
Dean’s groaning gets louder, too.
“Dean, come on.” Mills holds him tight. “You’ll be all right. Hang on, please. Hang on.”
“Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum. So mote it BE.”
Dean screams out as Sam’s voice booms at the last word. Then silence.
Sam creeps up to the bed. Dean’s lying motionlessly, eyes closed, breathing softly.
“Dean?” Sam reaches out and touches his face. Dean’s lids move a little and they flutter open.
“Hey, Sammy,” he says, his voice weak.
“How do you feel?” Sam asks.
“I - I think I’m fine.”
“Oh Dean.” Sam smiles rather tearfully, stroking Dean’s face.
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop it. We have company.”
“Oh.” Sam glances back at Sheriff Mills. “Don’t worry about her, Dean.”
Sheriff Mills smiles at Dean. “Glad to have you back.”
~~~
Genre: Wincest
Rating: PG
Spoiler: Ep 7-12
Word count: 2,900
Summary: Written for hoodie_time’s Challenge 6 : A Dean-focused h/c fic and art challenge based on the prompt by maypoles: I’ve noticed Dean seems to have done more time traveling than Sam/other people. Welll, what if there were negative after-effects on the human body and/or mind to this that no one anticipated?
AN: To my betas icelily01, thank you SO much for your valuable input on my writing, and novakev, thank you for your suggestions and lovely words. Love you both so much!
Panicked, Sam hurries to Dean’s side. Chronos is dead but that’s not the most important thing right now. Sam’s seen Dean stop moving, and he’s stopped thinking.
“Dean. Dean!”
Things are a blur as he carries Dean outside, running to their rented car and laying him down carefully in the passenger seat, half noticing someone else is climbing into the backseat.
Single-handedly Sam maneuvers the wheel, his other arm wound tight around Dean’s shoulder while Dean’s head rests unmoving on Sam’s shoulder. The ride to the hospital feels like a lifetime. Sam’s softly humming his prayers and Dean’s name and he runs his fingers in Dean’s hair. He has no idea what’s wrong with his brother; he and Sheriff Mills didn’t stop to check on him for fear of risking his life further. But Dean’s breath has been shallow, he’s burning up, and once every several seconds his body convulses. Sam tries to blank his mind and pushes harder on the accelerator.
Finally, the hospital sign. Sam sighs. At the emergency entrance Sam shouts and nurses and doctors come out with a stretcher. And then more shouts, people carefully moving Dean from the car to the gurney, pushing it past the door, and stopping Sam from going further. Sam combs his hair back, wheezing. A hand squeezes his shoulder from behind. Sheriff Mills. Sam grasps it and attempts a smile.
“He’ll be all right,” she says. Sam can only nod as his throat tightens. “Let’s sit down there while we wait.” The sheriff gently shoves Sam toward the row of plastic chairs lined up against the wall, but Sam shakes his head.
“I can’t. I - I need to be closer.”
The woman quiets, comprehension filling her eyes. Sam looks away. She must have seen how he acted toward Dean just now but he can’t bring himself to care. Chronos must have done something to him but the God of Time died already. Sam feels lost.
The curtain flips open and a young doctor steps out.
“Mr-”
Sam hesitates briefly, glancing at Sheriff Mills, who nods reassuringly.
“Winchester. It’s Sam Winchester. The one in there is my brother, Dean.”
“Well, Sam, I’m Dr. Ashton. About Dean-” A flicker of doubts flashes across his face. Sam tenses.
“What, Doc? What’s wrong with my brother?”
“He had prolonged seizures. We gave anticonvulsant and to avoid hypoventilation we administered the oxygen by nasal cannula, but…”
“But it didn’t work?”
Dr. Ashton scratches his two-day stubble. “He kept seizing, and things got weird.”
“Weird? Weird how?”
“Suddenly Dean started rambling. He was barely conscious, though.”
Sam’s ears perk at that. “What was he saying?”
Dr. Ashton frowns. “It doesn’t really make sense. I mean, Elliot Ness, a vintage car? Was he talking about a movie?”
Sam huffs somewhat in relief. At least the doctor is ready to write it off as something from a movie. But again, the doctor hasn’t finished yet.
“How about this, a time god draining people’s life essence?”
Sam swallows hard. “It’s from another movie?” he suggests.
Dr. Ashton lifts his eyebrows. “Well, all right. One more thing.”
“What?”
“Dean looked as if he was in a great deal of pain.”
~~~
That’s enough. Sam’s not waiting any longer. He brushes past the doctor, striding into the ER, and the sight that welcomes him almost sends him to his knees.
Dean’s seizing hard, held down by some orderlies as he’s wracked by the convulsions.
“Dean!” Sam charges toward him, grabbing his brother’s face as he slides to a halt next to the bed.
Dean groans, unaware of anything.
“God, Dean.” He strokes Dean’s face. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with him?” The next question is directed at Dr. Ashton who’s followed him inside.
“We found nothing in him apart, from the delirium. I’m very much concerned with his pains. We might try painkillers for him, something to get him to sleep now but we can give you the kind that’s not going to make him loopy.”
That might be what Dean needs, Sam thinks. He nods weakly. “Why not just try it, Doc.” Sam moves away to let them prepare the IV drips with the medicine. He goes out to tell the news to Sheriff Mills.
“Will the painkillers work, Sam?” she asks.
“They’re not going to cure him, no, only lessening his pains for a moment. Sheriff, you didn’t notice any gunshot wound or blood on him, did you?”
“No, Sam. Nothing. I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” Sam heaves a sigh. “I just hope the doc’s plan works. I hate to see him like that.”
“Oh, Sam, I’m sorry. Do you think we’re too late pulling him back from the past?”
Sam gazes at her, contemplating her words. “What are you talking about? He’s here with us, right?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Mills shrugs. “I’m not sure how you guys worked things out before. I’m just throwing out ideas. Physically Dean’s back, of course, but maybe, well, something happened to his soul?”
“I don’t know what to say. Do you think it has something to do with Chronos’ death?” His head throbs imagining Dean being in pain when he jumped back to 1944. He locks eyes with Sheriff Mills. “And we left his body in that house. We should do something before someone finds him.” His mind whirls. He gets panicked. He’s never been this careless before. But seeing Dean unconscious made him forget everything else.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re gonna salt and burn him?” Sam gapes.
“Of course not. But I can inform my deputies to handle the body.”
“We have to salt and burn him,” Sam insists, but then he gasps. “No, wait. You’re right.”
“I’m right?”
“Yeah. Better to keep the body for a while. I have a feeling that you’re right about Chronos, too.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“I think we missed something about the god. I need to do more research.”
Sheriff Mills nods. “Okay. You do the research while I’m off making sure no one lays a hand on Chronos’ body.” She moves closer, her arms open. It startles Sam but he welcomes her comforting hug. God knows they both need one tonight.
~~~
Sedated, Dean finally falls asleep. He looks peaceful for the first time since last night and Sam’s desperate for Dean to tell him how he feels. Where he feels the pain.
Sam claimed the spot next to Dean’s bed as his own once Dean was moved to a room. He took his laptop with him, having been browsing for Chronos for almost two hours now. Sheriff Mills returned after convincing her men not to do anything about the body found in the abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of the city. But Sam told her to go home to rest. Sam didn’t even bother entertaining her protest; he can’t have two people, one totally out of it and the other one on the verge of collapsing, on his hands. He just promised he’d contact her if necessary.
Sam massages his brow. He might be the one on the verge of collapsing but he can’t. Dean needs him. He closes down his laptop and puts it on the floor. Reaching out for Dean’s hand, he rests his head on the mattress and presses Dean’s hand to his lips, kissing it. Dean smells like some cologne unfamiliar to him. Perhaps it’s from his Back to the Future journey. Realizing that, Sam gets to thinking that Dean could not have been in pain at that time or he wouldn’t even have bothered using any cologne. Sam smiles to himself, looking over at Dean’s face, the lips, and he takes a deep breath. At least that’s a comforting thought.
~~~
The next thing Sam knows he’s awakened by fingers gently playing with his hair. Sam blinks open his eyes to Dean’s weak smile.
“Hey,” says Dean.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough from sleep. He clears his throat. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I’ve just been trampled by horses.”
Sam sits up straight. “You in pain now? I’ll get Dr. Ashton.” Sam’s been half rising from his chair but Dean grabs his wrist.
“No, please don’t.”
“Dean, he’s just going to give you something that’s not going to make you sleepy. Please. I hate to see you suffer like last night. What if you…”
“I’m going to be fine.”
Sam shakes his head. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Okay.”
“The first sign of pain, I’m calling the doctor.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re not going to fake it, pretending like you’re all right-”
“I said okay, Sam.”
Sam goes silent. “Okay,” he parrots then. “All right.”
“Come here.” Dean pats an empty space beside him, but Sam launches at him instead.
“God, I missed you.” Sam wraps his arms around Dean as much as he can. “I was so scared.”
But Dean tenses, and Sam wrenches back at once. “Is it starting again?” he asks, frowning.
“That’s nothing, Sam. I’m fine.” But the way Dean’s breath hitches says otherwise.
“What did I say,” Sam says.
Dean seems like he’s about say something but a low pained grunt cuts him off. Sam reaches for the emergency button.
It happens so fast. Dean’s as white as a sheet of paper when Sam turns back to him. Beads of sweat break out on Dean’s brow and his lower lip is trapped between his teeth. Sam strokes Dean’s brow, smoothes his hair tenderly, whispering soothing words.
“Sam…”
“Ssh. Doc Ashton will be here soon. You’ll be just fine.”
“It hurts, Sam.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
“Tell me, Dean. Tell me where exactly.”
“All. My head. My back. My - my chest.”
“Chest? Where?”
“My left.”
Sam never ceases with his stroking while his mind goes wild. Dean’s left chest - his heart? It nearly failed once when Dean got electrocuted in that basement. But how is that possible? It happened a couple of years ago.
His thoughts are interrupted when Dr. Ashton comes and adds the meds into the drip. Sam feels relieved and grateful when Dean visibly calms down, the lines on the corners of his eyes smoothing out.
“Thank you, Doc.”
The doctor only smiles and pats his back and is off to do his other duties. They talked earlier of the possibility of Sam taking Dean home and giving him painkillers every couple of hours. But Dr. Ashton didn’t let him. He still wanted to find out what was wrong with Dean.
When Sam takes his seat, Dean is not asleep but he doesn’t say anything, only gazes silently at Sam. Sam doesn’t ask any more questions. Dean needs to rest and he has something to dig through from Dean’s earlier answers.
~~~
“Sheriff Mills?”
“Sam, anything wrong? I’ll get there right away.”
“No, no. Listen. Have you ever heard of the Adverse Effect?”
“Uh, no. Adverse to what exactly?”
“Here. Dean told me just now where he’s feeling the pains.”
“And?”
“They’re everywhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Sam?”
“Well, it means everywhere. Every part of his body.”
“But he wasn’t injured. Or that’s what I thought…”
“No, he wasn’t injured now but he got hurt so many times in the past; once he even got electrocuted.”
“What are you talking about? What do they have to do with his condition right now?”
So Sam tells her about it, the thing they called The Adverse Effect.
“I read on the net that when you travel back in time, your body experiences again what happened to it before, including every injury and pain.”
Sam can almost hear Sheriff Mills wince in sympathy.
“But don’t you think it was supposed to happen when he went to that year, and not when he came back?”
Sam shrugs, but of course she can’t see that.
“I don’t know. It might have something to do with Chronos’ death.”
They both go quiet before suddenly she shouts so loudly Sam jumps in his chair.
“Sam!”
Sam curses silently.
“What, you got an idea?”
“Yes. It definitely has everything to do with Chronos’ death. Dean didn’t get the effect before because Chronos was there, too. Still alive. His existence might protect Dean somehow. But now that he’s dead, no one shields Dean from getting the effect.”
Sam would have shaken her hard for the brilliant idea if she happened to be close by.
“That’s excellent, Sheriff. You are amazing.”
“Aw, Sam,” Mills responds flatly.
“Maybe Castiel being in our time travel has also helped.”
“Who’s Castiel? You’ve been in more time travels?”
“Dean has actually - never mind. We have to think of a way to stop the effect.”
It’s obvious from Mills’ brief silence that she’s still intrigued with their time travel stories. She’s not going to let it slip later.
“The spell you did to send Chronos here…”
“What about it? We’re not calling him back here.”
Sheriff Mills sighs in despair. “It has to be one of those, right? Bobby’s books-”
“Hey,” Sam interrupts. “Think I read somewhere in one of those books about - wait. Right. Protection spell.”
“How’s it done?”
“Umm. Do you know Bobby’s spell book?”
“Sam-” It sounds like a Duh? coming from the sheriff’s mouth.
“All right, of course you don’t know.”
“Just tell me which one.”
Sam doesn’t hesitate. “It’s in a green jacket, kind of old, rather thick. Can you please… Or do you want to wait here while I go looking for it in his piles?”
“I can do it,” she says. “You stay with Dean. Is he okay?”
“The doctor gave him another dose. I think he’s sleepy now. Look, Sheriff. You helped us a lot. We owe you.”
“Now you shut up, Sam, and go back to your brother. You’ve left him for quite some time.”
Sam looks around the parking lot he’s in. “Yeah. I think I have to go back now.”
“I’ll be there with the book.”
~~~
Sam flips over the pages of the book Sheriff Mills brought him and he finally stops about the last quarter of the pages.
“Look. Protection spell. Blood from the one protecting and to be protected.” Sam reads out to the sheriff the other things they are going to need. After some time he looks up. “I have all those things but one.”
Sheriff looks at him. “Chronos’ blood.”
“Exactly. His body must be cold by now.”
They both fall silent, minds busy.
“The twig,” says Sam suddenly.
“What?”
“Where is it? The one I used to kill Chronos. Did you dump it?”
“Well, no. I thought you might need it again someday so I brought it with me in your car.”
Sam slams Bobby’s book closed so hard that Dean stirs awake. “You’re just incredible, you know that?”
“Sammy…”
“Dean.” Sam jumps up. “Nothing happened. Just go back to sleep, all right?” He lands a small kiss on Dean’s lips because he just can’t hold back.
Sheriff Mills fights the urge to smile but she fails. Sam blushes.
“I, uh…”
“Hey, I’m not saying anything or judging you, okay? It’s your and Dean’s lives. Let’s just save him, all right?”
“Okay. I’ll find the twig and get all the stuff. Hopefully there’s still blood on it that we can use.” He puts the book on the side table. “You all right staying here with Dean?”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
Sam smiles.
~~~
He feels relieved to find the wood and see the pointy end dark with dried blood. He slips it into his backpack where he’s put everything else. He will have to cut Dean to get some of his blood, another pain, albeit a meager one compared to the ordeal he’s going through at the moment. Sam pushes the trunk closed. The sooner he gets back, the better. He hates to have Dean depend on drugs.
Back in the room, Sam asks Sheriff Mills to hold a small bowl as he takes Dean’s hand and cuts his palm with their knife. Dean’s breath catches and he sends Sam a dazed look. “I’m sorry, Dean, but we need to do this.” Then he brings the bowl down to the floor, takes some wild herbs, wild flowers, tree barks, a pinch of salt, water, and flakes of Chronos’ dried blood, and begins to chant, “Servo mihi per totus vestri vires, O valde filiolus dies quod nox nocties.”
Half way through the spell Dean begins to groan before he turns into a full-on convulsion.
“Sam,” Sheriff Mills shrieks as she grapples over Dean’s body. Sam’s voice begins to shake. He glances at her and Dean but he keeps going. He just can’t stop, especially now. He goes on chanting, his voice getting stronger.
“Servo mihi per totus vestri vires, O valde filiolus dies quod nox nocties. Sic mote is exsisto. Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum.”
Dean’s groaning gets louder, too.
“Dean, come on.” Mills holds him tight. “You’ll be all right. Hang on, please. Hang on.”
“Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum. So mote it BE.”
Dean screams out as Sam’s voice booms at the last word. Then silence.
Sam creeps up to the bed. Dean’s lying motionlessly, eyes closed, breathing softly.
“Dean?” Sam reaches out and touches his face. Dean’s lids move a little and they flutter open.
“Hey, Sammy,” he says, his voice weak.
“How do you feel?” Sam asks.
“I - I think I’m fine.”
“Oh Dean.” Sam smiles rather tearfully, stroking Dean’s face.
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop it. We have company.”
“Oh.” Sam glances back at Sheriff Mills. “Don’t worry about her, Dean.”
Sheriff Mills smiles at Dean. “Glad to have you back.”
~~~