Sick Days - Chapter 8
Title: Sick Days
Summary: Dean's obsession with apparently random medical deaths mirrored from his past lands him and Sam in the middle of a deadly epidemic.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Up to and including 'Born Under a Bad Sign'
Word Count: 4,103 for this part
Author's Note: Takes place in 2007 post 'Born Under a Bad Sign' with flashbacks to 1987. Many thanks to Amberdreams for the wonderful editing assistance. Master post can be found here.
~~~
Continued from Chapter 7
Sam could finally breath again as he drove the Impala back towards town. It hadn’t been easy getting Dean to leave the old sanitarium empty handed. If Dean had been healthy then there would have been no way to force him out of there, but on the other hand, if Dean hadn’t been so sick Sam wouldn’t have had a problem with sticking around to look for more evidence.
Something was there and it was packing a lot of juice. It was just hard to say how much and what it was. He was going to need to go back, but not until Dean was somewhere safe. Of course he hadn’t told Dean that he was planning on ditching him to deal with this alone and he had no intention of telling him. All he had told Dean was that they would go back before morning and that figuring out what they were dealing with was their only hope of stopping it.
When Dean had related to him what he remembered from the past it was about as clear as it got that this wasn’t just some ghost. He still didn’t get how Dad fit into any of this. Dean swore up and down that he had seen Dad as a ghost but that the next thing he remembered was finding Dad on the side of the road somewhere. It was hard not to think that some of what Dean was coming up with was just his mind trying to fill in some painful gaps.
As easy as it was to chalk it all up to invented memory, at least some of it was real. Before they had left the basement Dean had come up with a .45 Smith & Wesson that Sam hadn’t seen before. When he’d asked Dean about it his brother hadn’t said much but once they were in the car he’d fallen asleep with the thing cradled in his lap.
“Stop the car!”
Instinctively listening to his brother’s order, Sam slammed on the breaks without knowing why he was doing it. A second later the reason was clear. The pistol was thrown onto the car floor and Dean barely waited for the car to stop lurching before stumbling out. He walked a few steps off the shoulder towards the forest’s edge before he bent over with his hands braced on his knees facing away from Sam.
Sam pursed his lips before killing the engine and getting out himself. Dean had already made it clear that he didn’t want him hovering so he forced himself to remain back. He leaned against the hood of the car with his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Dean wretch. Slowly his brother straightened and paced some uneasy steps along the foggy highway.
Maybe Dean was right. Demons were better than being sick. At least with demons there was something to fight, but he was tired of watching Dean be a pigheaded moron. He knew that between everything going on with the case and his body giving out Dean was just frustrated. He was too, but at times when Dean wouldn’t step up and be the big brother, Sam had to.
“Dean this is stupid. You need to be in bed.”
There was a long moment of silence as he watched Dean take a few more staggering steps. Sam pushed himself away from the hood as he saw Dean sway.
“You’re right,” Dean finally gasped in reply.
“I am?” Sam knew he was right. He was just shocked that Dean was saying it.
“Yep,” Dean replied with a strained voice. “But maybe we should go to the hospital first.”
It was Sam’s excuse to move in. In an instant he was at Dean’s side, reaching out to offer him support. “You okay?”
“Get your freakin’ hands off me,” Dean said as he swatted at Sam. “Do I look okay?”
Dean really couldn’t look further from it. The moon was out in full force now lighting up the fog around them. The pale light made Dean look all the more like a ghost. But then Sam’s eyes caught the stark contrast of the dark, thick, glossy liquid coating Dean’s chin.
“Now I’m coughing up blood,” his brother admitted.
“Dean, get in the car.”
~~~
Outside Green Bay General Hospital
It was a couple of stops later before they made it to a hospital, but once they were there Sam second-guessed whether or not he had remembered the location correctly. The place had been empty when they had come the other day and now he couldn’t find a parking spot on what should have been empty streets.
There were people milling around the hospital building in a chaotic line up that stretched out to the street. Either the hospital was holding a convention or all those people were really trying to storm the small facility. It was pretty clear that it was the latter when Sam caught sight of the local officers that were trying to manage the crowd.
Sam glanced at his watch. It was 1:30 AM. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. The number of cases had risen by only two when he had last talked to Dr. Hammond this afternoon and if Dean was right in his theory there should have been only two more after that to get sick before this was all over. Maybe this was something else and a plane had crashed or a hotel had collapsed while they were outside of town.
Those were the best case scenarios he could come up with, but Sam knew that him, Dean and the rest of these poor people weren’t that lucky. If this was what it looked like, Dean was right. There sure was something happening in this town. It just wasn’t what Dean had expected.
Sam flipped on the police scanner as he took the car once more around the block. At the stop sign, he tuned into the local police frequency. As the crackling chatter began, Dean shifted in his seat. His brother stared blankly out the window for part of the trip around the block but then looked as bewildered as Sam felt.
“What the...is the circus in town?” Dean asked with a scratchy voice.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Sam replied.
He turned the volume up on the scanner. It only confirmed that something big was happening. He had driven these streets the other night and they’d been stone empty. Now the hospital was loaded, there were cars lining the streets and the scanner was buzzing with bits and pieces of calls that didn’t add up to anything but bad news.
He sent a troubled look towards Dean. “Something’s wrong.”
“You think?” Dean rasped back. He could tell there was more his brother wanted to say, but it was obvious by the expression on Dean’s face that it was hurting him to talk.
Before Sam could make sense of the reports they were listening to, a spot near the front of the hospital finally opened up. It wasn’t actually a parking spot, more like a neighboring plot of grass that the person before them had decided was good enough for parking. Sam couldn’t agree more. A ticket would be the least of their problem right now and he was pretty sure that the cops also had bigger things on their hands.
He could tell that Dean wasn’t thrilled about where he’d parked the Impala, but right now he couldn’t care less about the nasty looks Dean was sending him. Sam got out and hurried over to the passenger side. Dean had already thrown open the door and shot Sam a lethal glare as he moved towards him.
“Touch me again, Sammy, and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Dean hissed.
Sam halted his approach, but his eyes pleaded with Dean. “You’re sick. It’s okay if you need help.”
The fact was that his fussing over Dean wasn’t because he thought it was what Dean wanted or needed. He knew full well that Dean would literally rather die than be doted over by his little brother, but he felt painfully helpless here and if he could help Dean walk then at least he would be doing something.
“You’re worried - I get it,” Dean replied as he rubbed his eyes before meeting Sam’s, “But I’m having enough trouble breathing without you suffocating me, alright?”
Reluctantly Sam nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thanks.” Sam raised his brows as Dean continued to just sit there. “Now help me up, will you?”
Sam wasn’t sure if his brother had changed his mind because he knew how badly Sam wanted to help or if Dean had realized he didn’t have the energy to get up. He was hoping like hell that it was the former.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Finally feeling like he had something to do, Sam reached in to give Dean a hand. It ended up being that he practically had to haul Dean out. It was a long moment before Dean got his own footing and even then Sam couldn’t tell if he’d really remain upright without support.
“Okay. Now get your hands off me,” Dean ordered.
With a concerned scowl Sam took a token half step back. Dean really had just needed the help to get up. He just wished that Dean would get it through his thick skull that getting assistance now didn’t make him weak.
“If you were hurt you’d let me help.”
Dean sneered at him as he used the car to steady himself. “If I was hurt, I’d need your help. This is totally different.”
“How’s this different? Hurt or sick it’s the same damn thing, Dean.”
“No. It’s not.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s just not!”
The hoarse shout was probably the last thing Dean had needed to do. A pained grimace washed over his brother’s ashen features and Dean’s hands blindly grasped for anything that would keep him from falling. Sam was there in an instant clutching Dean tightly against him as his brother coughed and gasped desperately for air. Dean’s chest was still heaving as he spat a mouthful of blood onto the sidewalk.
Sam didn’t wait for Dean to catch his breath enough to protest before he slipped his arm around him and hurried his brother as fast as he could move him towards the hospital doors. As they approached the entrance they were having to work their way around a lot of angry people, but Dean’s pale, blood splattered face did well to get people to give them some room if only because they didn’t want Dean anywhere near them.
“Sorry...excuse me,” Sam said for what had to be the hundredth time before he hit a group, probably a family, that blocked him from getting any further. “I gotta get my brother...”
This time his words hitched in his throat as he realized that the man before him didn't even notice that he was there. The father was cradling a young boy that likewise had blood trickled down his mouth. Only he was afraid that the small boy’s chest wasn’t moving. It was the first time that he really looked at the people that surrounded them.
There were more than a few in his immediate vicinity that looked as bad or worse than Dean. Panic surged through him as the implication hit, but as Dean started coughing again he stopped thinking and forced the rest of the way through the protesting crowd.
More than a couple of the people pushed him back and while he could have easily taken them, he wasn’t here to hurt anyone or start even more of a panic. Besides, he would have to let go of Dean to fight and there was no way he was putting his brother down. Luckily he didn’t have to. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the badge he had been waving around last time him and Dean had been here.
“Center for Disease Control - we need to get in the building,” he called towards those that still blocked his way.
Of course not all those who heard the declaration cleared the way. Some swarmed towards him demanding an explanation that he wished he could give them.
“We’re working on it,” was the best he could say to any of their desperate requests for answers.
Finally he made it inside the packed lobby where he instantly looked for somewhere to let Dean rest. The best he could come up with was propping his brother against a wall.
“I’m going to get help. Are you going to be okay for a minute?”
“I’ll be super,” he replied hoarsely though his sunken eyes and short, shallow breaths screamed that he was anything but okay.
It was the first time in hours that Sam had seen Dean under bright light and he realized that now Dean's face was slick with sweat. His brother was trying uselessly to fumble out of his jacket. Ignoring Dean’s silent protest, Sam helped slip Dad's old jacket off of Dean. Taking it under his arm, he patted Dean on the shoulder before heading to the front desk.
The staff at the front desk was already surrounded, but he caught sight of a nurse that was trying not to be seen on her rounds and ran towards her. “Hey, we need some help over here.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait,” the flustered nurse replied.
She tried to walk past him but Sam blocked her progress. “This can’t wait. My brother can’t wait,” he urgently insisted. “He can’t walk, he can’t breathe and he’s coughing up blood. A lot of blood.”
“As scary as that can be, there are actually a lot of reasons why someone could be coughing up blood and they’re not all serious. I have patients that have been waiting. You’re going to need to wait in line and talk to the front desk about our emergency procedures.”
He knew she was just doing her job and was obviously way in over her head to say the least, but for all he knew his brother was dying so right now he could give a crap about her need to do her job.
“Look at him.” As her eyes remained impatiently on him, he clutched her arm and his tone took on a fiery intensity that would have made Dean proud. “Look at my brother!”
“I will call an officer over here.”
“Just look at him, please,” Sam begged once more with a quiet desperation that finally convinced the older woman’s eyes to move to Dean.
When he too looked at Dean he wasn’t actually sure what his brother was doing. While he remained barely propped up against the wall Dean’s brow was creased in apparent confusion. He seemed to be closely watching something to the side of him, but there was nothing there. Sam cringed as Dean suddenly leaned over towards the potted palm at his side and resumed hacking up a mucus mix of blood onto the dirt of the pot.
“Are you telling me he doesn’t need medical attention?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He let her arm go as her eyes softened. “He’s obviously very ill, just like everyone else here and I'm sorry.”
“But you won’t help him?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that we can’t help him.”
“What?”
“Sir, this is a small community hospital. We don’t have the capacity to house half of this town. We don’t have a chair for your brother, let alone a bed, monitoring equipment or a doctor.”
“Where’s Dr. Hammond?”
“She’s not currently available.”
“Is she sick?”
“No, she’s working with the federal authorities to deal with this situation.”
“How many people are sick?”
“Sir, I’m sorry, I can’t share that information with you.”
Sam didn’t try flashing his badge again, because at this point it sounded like the real thing was in town. “Fine. Where’s the next closest hospital?”
“I’m going to have to ask that you just take your brother home and keep him well hydrated. I’m also going to need get your address.”
“He doesn’t need water, he needs a hospital.”
“We’re the only hospital within the quarantine area. Additional facilities are being set up at the high school and we will notify you...”
“Quarantine area? You’re saying we can’t leave.”
“For the safety of the surrounding communities as of fifteen minutes ago the road has been closed until further notice. Now if I could just get your address and have you fill out this form...”
But by the time the woman looked up from her clipboard, Sam had disappeared into the crowd. He walked swiftly back to Dean’s side, ignoring any attempt the nurse might have made to call him back. Dean caught on a moment later that they were heading for the exit, not for a room.
“They won't help me?” Dean asked groggily.
His grip on Dean tightened as they moved back through the wall of the sick and confused people. Dean was becoming too exhausted to mask his fear about what was happening to him and that scared the hell out of Sam. But the nurse had been right.
“No. They can't help us, ” Sam replied as he led Dean back towards the car.
Dean was quiet as they squeezed through the crowd. He looked bewildered and was probably focusing on trying not spew on the people they hurried by. For the most part Dean was basically letting Sam carry his weight and it was freaking Sam out. He was rushing his brother away from the only people who could have helped. What was he supposed to do with him now?
“Did you get a copy of the patient records?” Dean asked as they made it to the car.
Maybe he’d just have to kill him and put them both out of their misery. Sam couldn’t believe that Dean wouldn’t let go of this. Even if he couldn’t walk, Dean was still every bit as stupidly stubborn as usual.
“Dean, forget the case. It’s over.”
Sam shifted his hold on Dean so that he could open the passenger side door. At that moment Dean pulled free. His brother just managed to catch the top of the car for support.
“What? Look at all those people. This thing’s just getting warmed up.”
“Twelve people. You told me this thing only took twelve people a decade. I saw the nurse’s clipboard. They’ve had over forty six families in there so far tonight.”
“Son of a bitch. Obviously it just stepped up it’s game. You need to go back in there and get a list of who’s sick.” Dean stopped to cough and grimaced before continuing. “There’s enough victims now there’s no way even you’ll be able to miss the pattern.”
“No,” Sam replied firmly. “Look, you were right, Dean. There’s something at the sanitarium - it’s a legit case. But this...” he said with a motion towards the crowd outside the hospital, “there is no pattern. This is not a vengeful spirit or witchcraft and it’s not your fault. This is a real, honest to god outbreak and we’re right in the middle of it.”
“You’re wrong. This is no damn coincidence and we’re not walking away from these people. You understand me?”
“You are one of these people, Dean, and I’m not going to watch you die. Not like this. Get in the car or I’ll put you in it.” It could have been a long stare off but Dean’s knees looked ready to buckle.
“Like to see you try,” Dean huffed as he collapsed into the seat.
As soon as Dean was in, Sam slammed the door shut behind him. He opened the back passenger door, tossed Dean’s jacket on the seat and dug around for anything that resembled a viable liquid. Finally he found yesterday’s unfinished Dr. Pepper. Hopefully Dean would be desperate enough to get the taste of blood out of his mouth that he would down it regardless of the taste.
He settled in the driver’s seat and couldn’t figure out what was with the look Dean was giving him. Now instead of looking frightened or worried his brother looked pissed again.
“Why are the keys still in the ignition?” Dean asked with a venomous glare.
“Excuse me if I’m a little too busy trying to get you some help to keep track of a stupid set of keys.”
“Get your priorities straight. I need to know you’re going to take care of my baby.”
“Don’t even start,” Sam warned. “Here, you need to drink.”
Dean looked ready to argue but again apparently couldn’t come up with a valid defense. He snatched the plastic bottle from Sam’s hand, twisted the top off and greedily downed a gulp. For a second Sam thought he was going to have to take it away from Dean if he didn’t slow down, but before he could Dean kicked the door open and spit it out on the grass.
He made a face at the bottle. “Dude, that’s nasty.”
Sam shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve got bottled water and it’s two in the morning. It’s that or beer until we find a vending machine.”
“Well give me a damn beer. I could use a drink.”
“You haven’t eaten in two days, I’m not giving you a beer.”
Under his breath Dean muttered something mocking that Sam didn’t quite catch. Dean closed the car door, but rolled the window down. “At least drive so we can get some air moving here and give me my jacket.”
If Dean was so hot there was no reason why he would need his jacket and if he was so cold there was no reason to put the window down and let in the cold night air. Sam gave him a suspicious look but snatched the jacket off the back seat for his brother. He stopped short of giving it to him and first dug the whiskey flask out of the pocket. Sam flashed it to Dean before stuffing it far under the driver’s seat.
“Oh come on,” Dean grumbled.
“Still want the jacket?” Sam asked as he dangled it between them.
“Screw you too.”
Looking away from Sam, Dean played the petulant kid for a few moments longer before giving up and returning to the Dr. Pepper. He took a swig, but then returned the cap and set it aside. Sam could tell by the face that Dean made that it wasn’t the taste, but the pain in swallowing that had made him discard the bottle.
Dean didn’t say anything further as he leaned back in the seat. The full extent of his exhaustion was obvious as his head lolled to the side. Sam almost thought that he had passed out when Dean spoke again.
“You going to check out those symbols?”
“No. I’m getting you out of here.”
The main road might be blocked but there had to be more than one road out of this place. It wasn’t like Sam was just going to take Dean back to the motel room and watch him die.
“You think we just leave town and this just goes away? Wouldn’t that mean I’m right?”
“This isn’t a competition and this isn’t going to just go away. You’re the one that said you’re just sick. I’m taking you to a hospital.”
“Sure. Great plan. After all, this one did such a bang up job of fixing me.”
He was done arguing with Dean. The more he said the more it encouraged Dean to say and his brother couldn’t talk without a seriously pained look on his face. As Sam drove back down the street he saw Dean’s eyes flutter closed.
“You’re wrong, Sammy,” Dean mumbled on the edge of passing out. “I saw ‘em.”
“You saw who?” he asked patiently.
“Spirits...crowd was full of ‘em...”
Sam’s sweaty palms gripped the wheel tightly as Dean’s head fell forward. His brother was out for now while Sam’s mind was racing faster than ever with the possibility that Dean’s weird fascination with empty spaces in the hospital and crowd outside hadn’t just been feverish hallucinations.
He trusted Dean implicitly. The only reason he was doubting him on this case was because Dean was so emotionally tied into it. But what if Dean was right? He either had to get Dean out of town or he had to stay and deal with this thing. He couldn’t do both and only one of the choices was going to save his brother.
Continue to Chapter 9
Summary: Dean's obsession with apparently random medical deaths mirrored from his past lands him and Sam in the middle of a deadly epidemic.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Up to and including 'Born Under a Bad Sign'
Word Count: 4,103 for this part
Author's Note: Takes place in 2007 post 'Born Under a Bad Sign' with flashbacks to 1987. Many thanks to Amberdreams for the wonderful editing assistance. Master post can be found here.
~~~
Continued from Chapter 7
Sam could finally breath again as he drove the Impala back towards town. It hadn’t been easy getting Dean to leave the old sanitarium empty handed. If Dean had been healthy then there would have been no way to force him out of there, but on the other hand, if Dean hadn’t been so sick Sam wouldn’t have had a problem with sticking around to look for more evidence.
Something was there and it was packing a lot of juice. It was just hard to say how much and what it was. He was going to need to go back, but not until Dean was somewhere safe. Of course he hadn’t told Dean that he was planning on ditching him to deal with this alone and he had no intention of telling him. All he had told Dean was that they would go back before morning and that figuring out what they were dealing with was their only hope of stopping it.
When Dean had related to him what he remembered from the past it was about as clear as it got that this wasn’t just some ghost. He still didn’t get how Dad fit into any of this. Dean swore up and down that he had seen Dad as a ghost but that the next thing he remembered was finding Dad on the side of the road somewhere. It was hard not to think that some of what Dean was coming up with was just his mind trying to fill in some painful gaps.
As easy as it was to chalk it all up to invented memory, at least some of it was real. Before they had left the basement Dean had come up with a .45 Smith & Wesson that Sam hadn’t seen before. When he’d asked Dean about it his brother hadn’t said much but once they were in the car he’d fallen asleep with the thing cradled in his lap.
“Stop the car!”
Instinctively listening to his brother’s order, Sam slammed on the breaks without knowing why he was doing it. A second later the reason was clear. The pistol was thrown onto the car floor and Dean barely waited for the car to stop lurching before stumbling out. He walked a few steps off the shoulder towards the forest’s edge before he bent over with his hands braced on his knees facing away from Sam.
Sam pursed his lips before killing the engine and getting out himself. Dean had already made it clear that he didn’t want him hovering so he forced himself to remain back. He leaned against the hood of the car with his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Dean wretch. Slowly his brother straightened and paced some uneasy steps along the foggy highway.
Maybe Dean was right. Demons were better than being sick. At least with demons there was something to fight, but he was tired of watching Dean be a pigheaded moron. He knew that between everything going on with the case and his body giving out Dean was just frustrated. He was too, but at times when Dean wouldn’t step up and be the big brother, Sam had to.
“Dean this is stupid. You need to be in bed.”
There was a long moment of silence as he watched Dean take a few more staggering steps. Sam pushed himself away from the hood as he saw Dean sway.
“You’re right,” Dean finally gasped in reply.
“I am?” Sam knew he was right. He was just shocked that Dean was saying it.
“Yep,” Dean replied with a strained voice. “But maybe we should go to the hospital first.”
It was Sam’s excuse to move in. In an instant he was at Dean’s side, reaching out to offer him support. “You okay?”
“Get your freakin’ hands off me,” Dean said as he swatted at Sam. “Do I look okay?”
Dean really couldn’t look further from it. The moon was out in full force now lighting up the fog around them. The pale light made Dean look all the more like a ghost. But then Sam’s eyes caught the stark contrast of the dark, thick, glossy liquid coating Dean’s chin.
“Now I’m coughing up blood,” his brother admitted.
“Dean, get in the car.”
~~~
Outside Green Bay General Hospital
It was a couple of stops later before they made it to a hospital, but once they were there Sam second-guessed whether or not he had remembered the location correctly. The place had been empty when they had come the other day and now he couldn’t find a parking spot on what should have been empty streets.
There were people milling around the hospital building in a chaotic line up that stretched out to the street. Either the hospital was holding a convention or all those people were really trying to storm the small facility. It was pretty clear that it was the latter when Sam caught sight of the local officers that were trying to manage the crowd.
Sam glanced at his watch. It was 1:30 AM. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. The number of cases had risen by only two when he had last talked to Dr. Hammond this afternoon and if Dean was right in his theory there should have been only two more after that to get sick before this was all over. Maybe this was something else and a plane had crashed or a hotel had collapsed while they were outside of town.
Those were the best case scenarios he could come up with, but Sam knew that him, Dean and the rest of these poor people weren’t that lucky. If this was what it looked like, Dean was right. There sure was something happening in this town. It just wasn’t what Dean had expected.
Sam flipped on the police scanner as he took the car once more around the block. At the stop sign, he tuned into the local police frequency. As the crackling chatter began, Dean shifted in his seat. His brother stared blankly out the window for part of the trip around the block but then looked as bewildered as Sam felt.
“What the...is the circus in town?” Dean asked with a scratchy voice.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Sam replied.
He turned the volume up on the scanner. It only confirmed that something big was happening. He had driven these streets the other night and they’d been stone empty. Now the hospital was loaded, there were cars lining the streets and the scanner was buzzing with bits and pieces of calls that didn’t add up to anything but bad news.
He sent a troubled look towards Dean. “Something’s wrong.”
“You think?” Dean rasped back. He could tell there was more his brother wanted to say, but it was obvious by the expression on Dean’s face that it was hurting him to talk.
Before Sam could make sense of the reports they were listening to, a spot near the front of the hospital finally opened up. It wasn’t actually a parking spot, more like a neighboring plot of grass that the person before them had decided was good enough for parking. Sam couldn’t agree more. A ticket would be the least of their problem right now and he was pretty sure that the cops also had bigger things on their hands.
He could tell that Dean wasn’t thrilled about where he’d parked the Impala, but right now he couldn’t care less about the nasty looks Dean was sending him. Sam got out and hurried over to the passenger side. Dean had already thrown open the door and shot Sam a lethal glare as he moved towards him.
“Touch me again, Sammy, and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Dean hissed.
Sam halted his approach, but his eyes pleaded with Dean. “You’re sick. It’s okay if you need help.”
The fact was that his fussing over Dean wasn’t because he thought it was what Dean wanted or needed. He knew full well that Dean would literally rather die than be doted over by his little brother, but he felt painfully helpless here and if he could help Dean walk then at least he would be doing something.
“You’re worried - I get it,” Dean replied as he rubbed his eyes before meeting Sam’s, “But I’m having enough trouble breathing without you suffocating me, alright?”
Reluctantly Sam nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thanks.” Sam raised his brows as Dean continued to just sit there. “Now help me up, will you?”
Sam wasn’t sure if his brother had changed his mind because he knew how badly Sam wanted to help or if Dean had realized he didn’t have the energy to get up. He was hoping like hell that it was the former.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Finally feeling like he had something to do, Sam reached in to give Dean a hand. It ended up being that he practically had to haul Dean out. It was a long moment before Dean got his own footing and even then Sam couldn’t tell if he’d really remain upright without support.
“Okay. Now get your hands off me,” Dean ordered.
With a concerned scowl Sam took a token half step back. Dean really had just needed the help to get up. He just wished that Dean would get it through his thick skull that getting assistance now didn’t make him weak.
“If you were hurt you’d let me help.”
Dean sneered at him as he used the car to steady himself. “If I was hurt, I’d need your help. This is totally different.”
“How’s this different? Hurt or sick it’s the same damn thing, Dean.”
“No. It’s not.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s just not!”
The hoarse shout was probably the last thing Dean had needed to do. A pained grimace washed over his brother’s ashen features and Dean’s hands blindly grasped for anything that would keep him from falling. Sam was there in an instant clutching Dean tightly against him as his brother coughed and gasped desperately for air. Dean’s chest was still heaving as he spat a mouthful of blood onto the sidewalk.
Sam didn’t wait for Dean to catch his breath enough to protest before he slipped his arm around him and hurried his brother as fast as he could move him towards the hospital doors. As they approached the entrance they were having to work their way around a lot of angry people, but Dean’s pale, blood splattered face did well to get people to give them some room if only because they didn’t want Dean anywhere near them.
“Sorry...excuse me,” Sam said for what had to be the hundredth time before he hit a group, probably a family, that blocked him from getting any further. “I gotta get my brother...”
This time his words hitched in his throat as he realized that the man before him didn't even notice that he was there. The father was cradling a young boy that likewise had blood trickled down his mouth. Only he was afraid that the small boy’s chest wasn’t moving. It was the first time that he really looked at the people that surrounded them.
There were more than a few in his immediate vicinity that looked as bad or worse than Dean. Panic surged through him as the implication hit, but as Dean started coughing again he stopped thinking and forced the rest of the way through the protesting crowd.
More than a couple of the people pushed him back and while he could have easily taken them, he wasn’t here to hurt anyone or start even more of a panic. Besides, he would have to let go of Dean to fight and there was no way he was putting his brother down. Luckily he didn’t have to. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the badge he had been waving around last time him and Dean had been here.
“Center for Disease Control - we need to get in the building,” he called towards those that still blocked his way.
Of course not all those who heard the declaration cleared the way. Some swarmed towards him demanding an explanation that he wished he could give them.
“We’re working on it,” was the best he could say to any of their desperate requests for answers.
Finally he made it inside the packed lobby where he instantly looked for somewhere to let Dean rest. The best he could come up with was propping his brother against a wall.
“I’m going to get help. Are you going to be okay for a minute?”
“I’ll be super,” he replied hoarsely though his sunken eyes and short, shallow breaths screamed that he was anything but okay.
It was the first time in hours that Sam had seen Dean under bright light and he realized that now Dean's face was slick with sweat. His brother was trying uselessly to fumble out of his jacket. Ignoring Dean’s silent protest, Sam helped slip Dad's old jacket off of Dean. Taking it under his arm, he patted Dean on the shoulder before heading to the front desk.
The staff at the front desk was already surrounded, but he caught sight of a nurse that was trying not to be seen on her rounds and ran towards her. “Hey, we need some help over here.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait,” the flustered nurse replied.
She tried to walk past him but Sam blocked her progress. “This can’t wait. My brother can’t wait,” he urgently insisted. “He can’t walk, he can’t breathe and he’s coughing up blood. A lot of blood.”
“As scary as that can be, there are actually a lot of reasons why someone could be coughing up blood and they’re not all serious. I have patients that have been waiting. You’re going to need to wait in line and talk to the front desk about our emergency procedures.”
He knew she was just doing her job and was obviously way in over her head to say the least, but for all he knew his brother was dying so right now he could give a crap about her need to do her job.
“Look at him.” As her eyes remained impatiently on him, he clutched her arm and his tone took on a fiery intensity that would have made Dean proud. “Look at my brother!”
“I will call an officer over here.”
“Just look at him, please,” Sam begged once more with a quiet desperation that finally convinced the older woman’s eyes to move to Dean.
When he too looked at Dean he wasn’t actually sure what his brother was doing. While he remained barely propped up against the wall Dean’s brow was creased in apparent confusion. He seemed to be closely watching something to the side of him, but there was nothing there. Sam cringed as Dean suddenly leaned over towards the potted palm at his side and resumed hacking up a mucus mix of blood onto the dirt of the pot.
“Are you telling me he doesn’t need medical attention?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He let her arm go as her eyes softened. “He’s obviously very ill, just like everyone else here and I'm sorry.”
“But you won’t help him?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that we can’t help him.”
“What?”
“Sir, this is a small community hospital. We don’t have the capacity to house half of this town. We don’t have a chair for your brother, let alone a bed, monitoring equipment or a doctor.”
“Where’s Dr. Hammond?”
“She’s not currently available.”
“Is she sick?”
“No, she’s working with the federal authorities to deal with this situation.”
“How many people are sick?”
“Sir, I’m sorry, I can’t share that information with you.”
Sam didn’t try flashing his badge again, because at this point it sounded like the real thing was in town. “Fine. Where’s the next closest hospital?”
“I’m going to have to ask that you just take your brother home and keep him well hydrated. I’m also going to need get your address.”
“He doesn’t need water, he needs a hospital.”
“We’re the only hospital within the quarantine area. Additional facilities are being set up at the high school and we will notify you...”
“Quarantine area? You’re saying we can’t leave.”
“For the safety of the surrounding communities as of fifteen minutes ago the road has been closed until further notice. Now if I could just get your address and have you fill out this form...”
But by the time the woman looked up from her clipboard, Sam had disappeared into the crowd. He walked swiftly back to Dean’s side, ignoring any attempt the nurse might have made to call him back. Dean caught on a moment later that they were heading for the exit, not for a room.
“They won't help me?” Dean asked groggily.
His grip on Dean tightened as they moved back through the wall of the sick and confused people. Dean was becoming too exhausted to mask his fear about what was happening to him and that scared the hell out of Sam. But the nurse had been right.
“No. They can't help us, ” Sam replied as he led Dean back towards the car.
Dean was quiet as they squeezed through the crowd. He looked bewildered and was probably focusing on trying not spew on the people they hurried by. For the most part Dean was basically letting Sam carry his weight and it was freaking Sam out. He was rushing his brother away from the only people who could have helped. What was he supposed to do with him now?
“Did you get a copy of the patient records?” Dean asked as they made it to the car.
Maybe he’d just have to kill him and put them both out of their misery. Sam couldn’t believe that Dean wouldn’t let go of this. Even if he couldn’t walk, Dean was still every bit as stupidly stubborn as usual.
“Dean, forget the case. It’s over.”
Sam shifted his hold on Dean so that he could open the passenger side door. At that moment Dean pulled free. His brother just managed to catch the top of the car for support.
“What? Look at all those people. This thing’s just getting warmed up.”
“Twelve people. You told me this thing only took twelve people a decade. I saw the nurse’s clipboard. They’ve had over forty six families in there so far tonight.”
“Son of a bitch. Obviously it just stepped up it’s game. You need to go back in there and get a list of who’s sick.” Dean stopped to cough and grimaced before continuing. “There’s enough victims now there’s no way even you’ll be able to miss the pattern.”
“No,” Sam replied firmly. “Look, you were right, Dean. There’s something at the sanitarium - it’s a legit case. But this...” he said with a motion towards the crowd outside the hospital, “there is no pattern. This is not a vengeful spirit or witchcraft and it’s not your fault. This is a real, honest to god outbreak and we’re right in the middle of it.”
“You’re wrong. This is no damn coincidence and we’re not walking away from these people. You understand me?”
“You are one of these people, Dean, and I’m not going to watch you die. Not like this. Get in the car or I’ll put you in it.” It could have been a long stare off but Dean’s knees looked ready to buckle.
“Like to see you try,” Dean huffed as he collapsed into the seat.
As soon as Dean was in, Sam slammed the door shut behind him. He opened the back passenger door, tossed Dean’s jacket on the seat and dug around for anything that resembled a viable liquid. Finally he found yesterday’s unfinished Dr. Pepper. Hopefully Dean would be desperate enough to get the taste of blood out of his mouth that he would down it regardless of the taste.
He settled in the driver’s seat and couldn’t figure out what was with the look Dean was giving him. Now instead of looking frightened or worried his brother looked pissed again.
“Why are the keys still in the ignition?” Dean asked with a venomous glare.
“Excuse me if I’m a little too busy trying to get you some help to keep track of a stupid set of keys.”
“Get your priorities straight. I need to know you’re going to take care of my baby.”
“Don’t even start,” Sam warned. “Here, you need to drink.”
Dean looked ready to argue but again apparently couldn’t come up with a valid defense. He snatched the plastic bottle from Sam’s hand, twisted the top off and greedily downed a gulp. For a second Sam thought he was going to have to take it away from Dean if he didn’t slow down, but before he could Dean kicked the door open and spit it out on the grass.
He made a face at the bottle. “Dude, that’s nasty.”
Sam shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve got bottled water and it’s two in the morning. It’s that or beer until we find a vending machine.”
“Well give me a damn beer. I could use a drink.”
“You haven’t eaten in two days, I’m not giving you a beer.”
Under his breath Dean muttered something mocking that Sam didn’t quite catch. Dean closed the car door, but rolled the window down. “At least drive so we can get some air moving here and give me my jacket.”
If Dean was so hot there was no reason why he would need his jacket and if he was so cold there was no reason to put the window down and let in the cold night air. Sam gave him a suspicious look but snatched the jacket off the back seat for his brother. He stopped short of giving it to him and first dug the whiskey flask out of the pocket. Sam flashed it to Dean before stuffing it far under the driver’s seat.
“Oh come on,” Dean grumbled.
“Still want the jacket?” Sam asked as he dangled it between them.
“Screw you too.”
Looking away from Sam, Dean played the petulant kid for a few moments longer before giving up and returning to the Dr. Pepper. He took a swig, but then returned the cap and set it aside. Sam could tell by the face that Dean made that it wasn’t the taste, but the pain in swallowing that had made him discard the bottle.
Dean didn’t say anything further as he leaned back in the seat. The full extent of his exhaustion was obvious as his head lolled to the side. Sam almost thought that he had passed out when Dean spoke again.
“You going to check out those symbols?”
“No. I’m getting you out of here.”
The main road might be blocked but there had to be more than one road out of this place. It wasn’t like Sam was just going to take Dean back to the motel room and watch him die.
“You think we just leave town and this just goes away? Wouldn’t that mean I’m right?”
“This isn’t a competition and this isn’t going to just go away. You’re the one that said you’re just sick. I’m taking you to a hospital.”
“Sure. Great plan. After all, this one did such a bang up job of fixing me.”
He was done arguing with Dean. The more he said the more it encouraged Dean to say and his brother couldn’t talk without a seriously pained look on his face. As Sam drove back down the street he saw Dean’s eyes flutter closed.
“You’re wrong, Sammy,” Dean mumbled on the edge of passing out. “I saw ‘em.”
“You saw who?” he asked patiently.
“Spirits...crowd was full of ‘em...”
Sam’s sweaty palms gripped the wheel tightly as Dean’s head fell forward. His brother was out for now while Sam’s mind was racing faster than ever with the possibility that Dean’s weird fascination with empty spaces in the hospital and crowd outside hadn’t just been feverish hallucinations.
He trusted Dean implicitly. The only reason he was doubting him on this case was because Dean was so emotionally tied into it. But what if Dean was right? He either had to get Dean out of town or he had to stay and deal with this thing. He couldn’t do both and only one of the choices was going to save his brother.
Continue to Chapter 9