Sorry it took me sooo long! You guys have been so great with reviews and stuff, and I appreciate all the comments. Life found its way to me--stupid crap! but okays, here is an update and I hope its worth the time you spent waiting!
Snowed In
Chapter 3
"Dean, its okay," Sam murmured, using his long, trembling fingers to wipe the thick black from the corners of his brother's eyes and placing his free hand on Dean's chest in effort to monitor the wheezing breaths Dean was barely managing to draw in. "Sshh, you're okay, its okay."
Dean lifted his head slowly as if it weighed over a ton and managed a weary roll of his eyes as he choked on an exhale. Sam couldn't help but to smirk and grabbed one of the forgotten towels from earlier, running it across Dean's face which earned him a less than favorable glance from his brother. "Okay, so it's not all okay, exactly. But I'm handling it, got it?"
"S-sure," Dean heaved, shifting slightly on the bed and groaning pitifully.
"You need anything?" Sam offered quickly, grateful that the barking coughs had dissipated and snatched the towel he'd draped around Dean's head moments before, replacing the now dry cloth with his sweaty palm. "You feel cooler."
"Gross," the older brother whined, jerking away from Sam's idea of a thermometer. "Satisfied?"
"Hardly," Sam shot back and Dean quirked an eyebrow. The younger brother straightened up, slinging the towels over his shoulder as he headed back toward the living room and noticed the two pills half crushed on the cabin floor. "I'll be right back with some pills, okay?"
"M'kay," Dean muttered, his heavy eyelids drooping closed as he wrapped his arms protectively over his torso and fought a shiver. It was freezing.
Sam returned within seconds, and gave Dean's shoulder a light shake to awaken the snoozing man. Dean jerked back, regretting the motion with a pained cry when his eyes flew wide open and Sam's outstretched hand filled his vision.
"Take these," Sam ordered, and waited for Dean's arm to snake tiredly out and his hand to open. The younger brother dumped the pills in Dean's palm and rushed off to the bathroom, returning with a half glass of water.
Dean's outstretched hand was shaking horribly and Sam set the glass down on the floor, closing his brother's hand into a loose fist so the pills would stay, and placed his arms under Dean's. "Going to help you sit up. You ready?"
Dean shook his head, a whimper escaping his sealed tight lips. Sam released his hold and walked around the side of the cot, carefully maneuvering himself onto it behind his brother. The worn excuse for a bed groaned under his additional weight and Sam grimaced, praying silently that the damn thing would hold.
"You got to sit up," Sam whispered gently, "You need to take the Tylenol and drink something. Please, Dean. C'mon."
The sick man didn't offer any sense of reply, but allowed Sam to situate and prop up him against his chest. Sam braced Dean with a solid grip and leaned his upper body over, his free arm finding the discarded water glass and brought the half-full drink to his brother's parched lips.
Dean's mouth didn't readily open and Sam's brow furrowed in concern. He immediately noticed that his older brother's eyes had slid shut and Sam sighed, gently nudging the cool glass to Dean's lips again. "Dean, wake up. Just one sip and I'll leave you alone, I swear."
"Whu--?" Dean muttered, entering a quickly fading sense of consciousness, teeth clinking against the too close glass.
"Drink," Sam ordered softly, elated and terrified when Dean responded without comment.
Dean's throat moved painfully slow as it worked to swallow the liquid and Sam grimaced sympathetically when the muscles refused to further the motion and Dean gagged. Sam leaned his brother forward, bracing his heaving chest, until all the water had been spat back out onto the floor.
"C-can't," Dean murmured wearily, his eyes brimming with unshed tears from the hacking.
"It's okay," Sam comforted, knowing full good and well it sooo wasn't. "We'll try later 'cause it went down a bit with the towels."
Sam's comment was lost on deaf ears as Dean's eyes were already shut and his sawing breath evened out as the older brother lost himself in exhaustion. The younger brother gently slid off the cot, doing his best not to jostle his brother, and laid Dean back down on his side, covering his shivering form with the tattered blankets.
For a moment, Sam stood, frozen in place, watching the god-like brother of his tremble uncontrollably through a sheen of sweat. He wasn't going to make Dean suffer any more than the man already was. Dean would be fine. They'd gotten through a hell of a lot of stuff before, and he could figure this out. Sam knew he could.
First things first though. He was going to have to ransack the car for liquid medication because no way was Dean ever going to be able to down Tylenol when he couldn't even swallow water
XXXXXX
Sam slammed the front door of the cabin hard. Frustration had set in seeing as how he'd practically tore the Impala, med kit, and empty cupboards for liquid meds and found nothing. There was no way he could shovel out the six foot snow bank covering the drive.
Clutching the laptop closer to his freezing body, Sam knew his only option was research at this point. The cool towels would have do for now, and hopefully would hold Dean's fever to a reasonable level until he found out what they were dealing with.
Making his way to the back of the cabin, Sam shuffled quietly to the bedroom, satisfied that Dean was still snoozing fairly peacefully and although, he still felt like an oven, the temperature had remained somewhat cooler. Settling in on the stripped bed across from his brother, Sam opened the laptop and clicked on his browser.
The computer screen went white and the blinking notice that his connection was disabled flashed tauntingly. Sam sucked in a halting breath, closing the browser window and trying again. The same message appeared and the younger man fought back bitter tears as he tossed the useless computer aside, his hands flying rapidly for his phone.
Sam scrolled down the list of contacts, the sound of shaky inhales and choked sobs accompanying the cellular devices beeping alerts as the names displayed. Joshua had helped before…maybe now….
Sam selected the name and nearly chucked the phone across the room when he realized cell reception was zilch. He silently resolved to try every corner of the god-forsaken cabin, and even stand out in the blizzard if it got him answers at this point.
He searched the whole cabin to get a single bar of reception in the farthest corner, between the heater and the wall. Sam dialed anxiously, keeping his body deathly still in fear of losing the signal as he listened to the steady ring tone.
Hello?
"Joshua!" Sam half-yelled in relief, "This is Sam Winchester. I need your help."
"Okay, Sam," Joshua replied, and Sam could hear the clutter of things being shuffled around. "What's the problem?"
"It's Dean," Sam answered, blinking back fresh tears.
Static hung between the two lines, and Sam was about ready to scream into the phone before Joshua's deep voice barreled through the line. "Again?"
"Yes," Sam snapped, irritation fraying his already over taxed nerves. "We were on a job and the creature got him. But now he's got an infection or something, I dunno, but there's this black stuff coming out the wounds and—and his eyes. My computer isn't working and I—I--"
"Okay, okay," Joshua broke in, relieved he heard Sam draw in a breath across the line. "What type of creature was it?"
"Dean and I thought werewolf," Sam revealed, knowing it sounded weak, but they hadn't been entirely sure of anything except the damn thing had killed—mutilated—at least six people. "But we shot it with iron and silver rounds and killed it. So I don't understand why Dean's sick."
"Don't think it was a werewolf, Sam," Joshua chimed in.
Sam rolled his eyes. "You think?"
"Hey, boy," Joshua chided, although his tone held no real heat, "You're the one that called me here."
"Right," Sam muttered, "So what do you think it could be?"
"Maybe a demon," Joshua suggested.
Sam mulled the thought over, his lips pursing in confusion. "Demon?"
"Yeah, pestilence, disease, that kind of demon," the other hunter continued, "Maybe whatever it got Dean with is used when it takes its prey. Did any of the other victims have the same thing happen or the same black stuff around?"
"There wasn't much left to tell," Sam pointed out, scratching his head. They were so screwed if Joshua couldn't come through. "It looked more like a creature. I mean, like a supped up wolf, you know? I don't think a dem-"
"You ever read the Bible, son?" Joshua interrupted tersely, "Demons possessed pigs, what makes you think they wouldn't take to some other animal? I'm just saying that if this Demon wants to kill, an animal might be the best choice for the environment it resides in. Where'd you say you were?"
"I didn't," Sam rubbed his throbbing head, "We're in Resida, Colorado. Squatted in a cabin on the north side of the Jamestown Reserve."
"Alright, I'll see if I got any contacts up that way, and they can get you some help," Joshua replied, sighing before continuing, "You got holy water, Sam?"
Sam's eyebrows rose questioningly. "Yeah, why wou—No! Joshua, he's already sick enough, I can't dump holy water on him."
"Unless you want to bury him, you will." Joshua shot back, total low blow but the man never was one to mince words. "Look, it's the only way to really know if you're dealing with a demonic sickness, and if you are, well, Sam, the holy water will curb it a bit. And you know as well as I do that a demon ain't dying 'cause of iron and silver rounds. And you boys both shot it up, so…"
"I get it!" Sam barked back, biting down on his tongue lest he rip the fellow hunter a new one for being so damn blunt at a time like this.
"I'm going to do my best to get help to you, Sam." Joshua soothed cautiously, "But you have to do what you can to keep Dean in the best shape you can manage until it gets there."
"And if it's not some demon thing?" Sam protested fiercely, "Then what?"
"Then you call me back," Joshua stated firmly, "And Sam, if the holy water works, don't panic. Just make sure you use enough to keep it from getting worse—if it gets worse you call, got it?"
"Yeah," Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he heard the other line click and the dial tone began its hum. Grabbing his jacket off the edge of the bed, Sam shouldered it on and tugged at the pockets, nervously casting a glance at Dean's sleeping form before retreating back to the cabin's entrance and exiting into the frigid cold in search of the sacred water that determined the course of Dean's next hours.