Riding Out the Storm Chapter Ten
Summary: The Winchesters travel to eliminate a deadly apocalypse-freed entity. But will they be able to stop it before it stops them?
"Sammy? You with me? Gotta get you outta here," Sam heard Dean's voice somewhere above him. He opened his eyes. He was in the grass, in the field. He turned his head to the left to see the burning corpse, then turned back to his brother.
"Don't think I can...get up," he said.
"That's what I'm here for," Dean helped him up, though he nearly collapsed again.
"Can't..."
Suddenly, the flaming corpse of Lucy Bennett was rising up off the ground and flying straight toward Dean. Dean shoved Sam out of harm's way, sending him falling back onto the ground. Sam watched in horror as Lucy descended upon him.
"No!" Sam yelled out.
But Lucy struck him over and over; Dean fighting defensively, unsure of what to do at this point. But Lucy suddenly stopped, and was simply holding him down now.
It wasn't until Dean started screaming out in pain, that Sam realized what was happening... "No! No, you leave him alone!" he yelled out, moving his own battered body toward his brother.
Lucy turned her head to face him, smiled grimly, and then dissipated into ash...
Sam scrambled for Dean as the older Winchester began to convulse and turn over onto his side, facing Sam; his eyes pleading, helplessly He reached out to him. Sam reached back, trying like mad to get to his brother's side.
Then, suddenly, Dean grew sickeningly still...his hand dropping to the ground. "No..." Sam gripped the earth in his hands and pulled himself toward Dean until he could pull him into his arms. "No, please...please don't..." Don't be dead, he thought...
He peeked his head over Dean's shoulder to see the bloody hole that now lay in his back, and he knew what had happened...
She'd killed him... Dean was dead...
________________________________________
"Sammy, c'mon," Dean spoke softly against the lump in his throat, as he continued to gently rock his distraught brother in his arms.
Bobby had retreated back downstairs, a few minutes earlier, to gather up some cold compresses. Sam's fever seemed pretty high to him. And Dean could feel it, hot against his chest where Sam's head was planted. He could feel it on his arm where it wrapped around Sam's back to hold onto him.
Part of him was relieved that he could, at least, be with Sam while he suffered; do something besides wait it out in another room. When Sam was detoxing from the demon-blood, he was locked away in the panic room, and Dean couldn't be there with him. It would've been too dangerous.
Not that this was any easier, though. If anything, it was even more difficult. More difficult for Dean, that is. And he was okay with that, if his presence could help in any way at all...
"Dea-?" Sam's voice pulled Dean from his thoughts, and halted his mantra of soothing speech. He pulled his hand from Sam's head so he could see his eyes.
"Sammy?"
And suddenly, Sam was repositioning himself and pulling Dean into a tight embrace, weeping for reasons Dean didn't really understand, in that moment. All he could do was hug him back.
"It's okay, Sam," he told him. "It's okay... It was just a nightmare. Everything's gonna be okay..."
"It felt r-real," he replied, his breath shaking from the exertion of tears. "I felt everything...and I w-watched you...sh-she killed you..."
"She didn't kill me, Sammy," he stroked his back, trying to get him to calm down; to stop shaking so badly. "I'm alive, see? I'm right here...Everything's okay..."
Bobby was standing in the doorway, probably longer than Dean had even realized. But he finally looked up to meet the older hunter's eyes. That's when he realized that there was something more pressing that needed to be dealt with.
"Sam? You're running a pretty high fever," he told him. "We need to cool you down, okay? So, I'm gonna help you back into bed. Think you can make it?"
He felt Sam nod and slowly begin to pull away. Sam glanced around before looking briefly back at Dean. "We at Bobby's?" he asked.
"Yeah, kiddo. You've been out since halfway through our trip," he gave him a small smile before ruffing Sam's brown mop of hair.
Sam's eyes darted away, suddenly feeling sheepish and embarrassed at his previous bout of weeping in front of his big brother. "I'm sorry, Dean," he said in almost a whisper.
"Hey, hey," Dean took Sam's face in his hands so that he'd have no choice but to look at him. "You've got nothin' to be sorry for. Got that? You didn't ask for this to happen."
"You shouldn't have to do this," Sam replied.
"It's my job, Sammy. I'm supposed to take care of you. I want to. Don't you know that? You're my baby brother..."
Sam's face became a bit pensive before replying, "I'm not a baby..."
Dean smiled at him. "Okay, Sam, let's get you up," he said as he stood, then grabbed Sam's arms to help hoist him upright. That's when Bobby came into the room the rest of the way. He pulled the tangled covers from the bed so that Sam could get in.
As he laid back down in the bed, he met Bobby's eyes and tried to give him a small smile.
"How ya feelin', Sam? You in any pain?" Bobby asked.
Sam shook his head. "Did you figure out how to help me? How to make this go away?" Sam inquired.
Dean shot Bobby a look, then answered for him. "We're gonna get you through this," he told him. "What's happening to you is all after-effects of that thing that was in you. The pain, the nightmares, the fever, everything... Bobby said it might last a few days. But we've got everything we need, to help you get through it."
"If it gets too much for you," Bobby interjected, "I've got sedatives. We can knock you out, if you want it."
"No," Sam replied without hesitation. "I don't wanna sleep. I don't- you can't stop the nightmares," he shook his head, "And I don't wanna go back there..."
"Okay, Sam," Dean said, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed. "We won't give you anything you don't want. But you can't stay awake for the next few days."
"I can try," he retorted.
"Yeah, ya can. But it won't last long. Just listen to me, okay? You fall asleep and some bad things start happening, just remember it's only a dream. Anything bad that happens, equals Sammy's asleep...none of it's real."
"Easier said, than done," Sam replied.
"Well, if you keep sayin' it over an' over, chances are it'll get drilled into your head," Dean told him. "And when somethin' bad pops into that imagination, you'll remember it. It's worth a shot, Sam."
Sam looked at him for a long moment before nodding and letting his head fall back on the pillow.
"You're not gonna like this," Bobby told Sam. "But we're gonna have to use this cold compresses on you, to get your body temp down."
"Do what you have to," Sam replied, stoically. Bobby placed one of the compresses behind Sam's neck, watching Sam grimace a bit at the cold. Then he handed one to Dean, placing the other under Sam's armpit, signaling for Dean to do the same.
Sam let out a squeaking sound in response.
"You okay?" Dean asked.
"Jus' cold..." Sam replied, shortly. "I'm okay."
"You want somethin' to drink? Tea or somethin'?" Bobby asked.
"Water," Sam replied.
"I'll get it," Dean said, moving to stand, but Sam grabbed his arm.
"No...stay," Sam pleaded. Dean furrowed his brow as he sat back down, then glanced to Bobby, who nodded and left to fetch it, himself.
"Sammy, you said you weren't in pain..."
"I'm not," he replied. "I just...please, can you stay?" the pleading in his eyes couldn't be ignored by his older brother.
"'Course I can stay, Sam," he told him. Dean stood and moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing in to sit back against the headboard. "If you want, I might be able to scrounge up a crossword book or somethin' for ya?"
"It's okay, Dean. I can't even think straight right now. I just feel better knowing you're right here," he told him. Dean glanced down at his brother's face and saw his eyes start to droop closed. He smirked for a moment, thinking about how Sam insisted on not wanting to go back to sleep. But it faded with the memory of the moments before, when he was so lost from that nightmare... Hopefully, that wouldn't happen again. Sam had already been through enough.
But Dean would stay by his side, every moment he could be there...
Chapter Eleven
"Sammy? You with me? Gotta get you outta here," Sam heard Dean's voice somewhere above him. He opened his eyes. He was in the grass, in the field. He turned his head to the left to see the burning corpse, then turned back to his brother.
"Don't think I can...get up," he said.
"That's what I'm here for," Dean helped him up, though he nearly collapsed again.
"Can't..."
Suddenly, the flaming corpse of Lucy Bennett was rising up off the ground and flying straight toward Dean. Dean shoved Sam out of harm's way, sending him falling back onto the ground. Sam watched in horror as Lucy descended upon him.
"No!" Sam yelled out.
But Lucy struck him over and over; Dean fighting defensively, unsure of what to do at this point. But Lucy suddenly stopped, and was simply holding him down now.
It wasn't until Dean started screaming out in pain, that Sam realized what was happening... "No! No, you leave him alone!" he yelled out, moving his own battered body toward his brother.
Lucy turned her head to face him, smiled grimly, and then dissipated into ash...
Sam scrambled for Dean as the older Winchester began to convulse and turn over onto his side, facing Sam; his eyes pleading, helplessly He reached out to him. Sam reached back, trying like mad to get to his brother's side.
Then, suddenly, Dean grew sickeningly still...his hand dropping to the ground. "No..." Sam gripped the earth in his hands and pulled himself toward Dean until he could pull him into his arms. "No, please...please don't..." Don't be dead, he thought...
He peeked his head over Dean's shoulder to see the bloody hole that now lay in his back, and he knew what had happened...
She'd killed him... Dean was dead...
________________________________________
"Sammy, c'mon," Dean spoke softly against the lump in his throat, as he continued to gently rock his distraught brother in his arms.
Bobby had retreated back downstairs, a few minutes earlier, to gather up some cold compresses. Sam's fever seemed pretty high to him. And Dean could feel it, hot against his chest where Sam's head was planted. He could feel it on his arm where it wrapped around Sam's back to hold onto him.
Part of him was relieved that he could, at least, be with Sam while he suffered; do something besides wait it out in another room. When Sam was detoxing from the demon-blood, he was locked away in the panic room, and Dean couldn't be there with him. It would've been too dangerous.
Not that this was any easier, though. If anything, it was even more difficult. More difficult for Dean, that is. And he was okay with that, if his presence could help in any way at all...
"Dea-?" Sam's voice pulled Dean from his thoughts, and halted his mantra of soothing speech. He pulled his hand from Sam's head so he could see his eyes.
"Sammy?"
And suddenly, Sam was repositioning himself and pulling Dean into a tight embrace, weeping for reasons Dean didn't really understand, in that moment. All he could do was hug him back.
"It's okay, Sam," he told him. "It's okay... It was just a nightmare. Everything's gonna be okay..."
"It felt r-real," he replied, his breath shaking from the exertion of tears. "I felt everything...and I w-watched you...sh-she killed you..."
"She didn't kill me, Sammy," he stroked his back, trying to get him to calm down; to stop shaking so badly. "I'm alive, see? I'm right here...Everything's okay..."
Bobby was standing in the doorway, probably longer than Dean had even realized. But he finally looked up to meet the older hunter's eyes. That's when he realized that there was something more pressing that needed to be dealt with.
"Sam? You're running a pretty high fever," he told him. "We need to cool you down, okay? So, I'm gonna help you back into bed. Think you can make it?"
He felt Sam nod and slowly begin to pull away. Sam glanced around before looking briefly back at Dean. "We at Bobby's?" he asked.
"Yeah, kiddo. You've been out since halfway through our trip," he gave him a small smile before ruffing Sam's brown mop of hair.
Sam's eyes darted away, suddenly feeling sheepish and embarrassed at his previous bout of weeping in front of his big brother. "I'm sorry, Dean," he said in almost a whisper.
"Hey, hey," Dean took Sam's face in his hands so that he'd have no choice but to look at him. "You've got nothin' to be sorry for. Got that? You didn't ask for this to happen."
"You shouldn't have to do this," Sam replied.
"It's my job, Sammy. I'm supposed to take care of you. I want to. Don't you know that? You're my baby brother..."
Sam's face became a bit pensive before replying, "I'm not a baby..."
Dean smiled at him. "Okay, Sam, let's get you up," he said as he stood, then grabbed Sam's arms to help hoist him upright. That's when Bobby came into the room the rest of the way. He pulled the tangled covers from the bed so that Sam could get in.
As he laid back down in the bed, he met Bobby's eyes and tried to give him a small smile.
"How ya feelin', Sam? You in any pain?" Bobby asked.
Sam shook his head. "Did you figure out how to help me? How to make this go away?" Sam inquired.
Dean shot Bobby a look, then answered for him. "We're gonna get you through this," he told him. "What's happening to you is all after-effects of that thing that was in you. The pain, the nightmares, the fever, everything... Bobby said it might last a few days. But we've got everything we need, to help you get through it."
"If it gets too much for you," Bobby interjected, "I've got sedatives. We can knock you out, if you want it."
"No," Sam replied without hesitation. "I don't wanna sleep. I don't- you can't stop the nightmares," he shook his head, "And I don't wanna go back there..."
"Okay, Sam," Dean said, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed. "We won't give you anything you don't want. But you can't stay awake for the next few days."
"I can try," he retorted.
"Yeah, ya can. But it won't last long. Just listen to me, okay? You fall asleep and some bad things start happening, just remember it's only a dream. Anything bad that happens, equals Sammy's asleep...none of it's real."
"Easier said, than done," Sam replied.
"Well, if you keep sayin' it over an' over, chances are it'll get drilled into your head," Dean told him. "And when somethin' bad pops into that imagination, you'll remember it. It's worth a shot, Sam."
Sam looked at him for a long moment before nodding and letting his head fall back on the pillow.
"You're not gonna like this," Bobby told Sam. "But we're gonna have to use this cold compresses on you, to get your body temp down."
"Do what you have to," Sam replied, stoically. Bobby placed one of the compresses behind Sam's neck, watching Sam grimace a bit at the cold. Then he handed one to Dean, placing the other under Sam's armpit, signaling for Dean to do the same.
Sam let out a squeaking sound in response.
"You okay?" Dean asked.
"Jus' cold..." Sam replied, shortly. "I'm okay."
"You want somethin' to drink? Tea or somethin'?" Bobby asked.
"Water," Sam replied.
"I'll get it," Dean said, moving to stand, but Sam grabbed his arm.
"No...stay," Sam pleaded. Dean furrowed his brow as he sat back down, then glanced to Bobby, who nodded and left to fetch it, himself.
"Sammy, you said you weren't in pain..."
"I'm not," he replied. "I just...please, can you stay?" the pleading in his eyes couldn't be ignored by his older brother.
"'Course I can stay, Sam," he told him. Dean stood and moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing in to sit back against the headboard. "If you want, I might be able to scrounge up a crossword book or somethin' for ya?"
"It's okay, Dean. I can't even think straight right now. I just feel better knowing you're right here," he told him. Dean glanced down at his brother's face and saw his eyes start to droop closed. He smirked for a moment, thinking about how Sam insisted on not wanting to go back to sleep. But it faded with the memory of the moments before, when he was so lost from that nightmare... Hopefully, that wouldn't happen again. Sam had already been through enough.
But Dean would stay by his side, every moment he could be there...
Chapter Eleven