Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Special Thanks: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, also, I would like to apologize if I insulted anyone when I made my comment last chapter about having only one reviewer, it's just that, since it was only one reviewer I figured I would just the name. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
Dean sat ramrod straight next to his brother in the back seat of the Impala, Sam's head resting in his lap, their hands clamped firmly together. They had been driving for almost sixteen hours already and Dean had only taken his eyes off Sam once and that was to run to a gas station washroom. He hadn't wanted to. As uncomfortable as it would have been he had been prepared to wait the whole trip but John had insisted and sat with Sam for the minute and a half he had been gone.
John knew he owed it to Sam to stay with him. Sam had tried to tell both John and Dean that there was something else in the gorge but neither of them listened and Sam had paid the price.
The Impala bounced as it hit a pothole and Sam gasped in his sleep, as though he was in pain and couldn't breathe. He had had difficulty breathing as Dean carried him back to the car, and Dean had nothing else to do for those long hours but to feel him shift and shudder and gasp for air and listen to him struggle when he couldn't get a breath.
Much to Dean's horror, instead of getting better with the Hag dead, Sam seemed only to get worse with each passing hour until it sounded like Sam was breathing through a straw and would cough up blood all too often.
When the family finally pulled into Singer Salvage and Sam was resting a little more comfortably in the guest bedroom, Dean was about to crack. He sat at the bedside, refusing sleep or food or a break from either Bobby or John.
After several minutes of unsuccessfully trying to reason with Dean, who was impossible while he was in Protective-Big-Brother mode, John made his way downstairs and into the living room that was filled with books. He sat down with a tired sigh on the chesterfield and gratefully accepted a beer proffered from Bobby.
"So, do I have to ask or are you going to tell me?" Bobby blurted out gruffly after a minute of silence.
John set down his beer and put his head in his hands. "Sam knew there was something wrong with the hunt but I didn't listen, I never listen… It was a Hag. I didn't even know what it was when I saw it. Sam did. I just knew how to kill it, but Sam… he knew what he was dealing with. He was so brave. He didn't scream or cry and he just kept fighting…"
Bobby was silent for a minute, processing all this information. Normally, John wasn't quite as forthcoming but he chalked that up to his exhaustion. "They're a type of shape shifter. That's why silver killed it."
"It wasn't doing any shape-shifting, Bobby. All it did was blind Sam and make it damn near impossible for him to breathe."
Bobby nodded his head. "Think back on the case, what were the werewolf victims missing?"
"There was a heart -"
"Right and I'm guessing somewhere in the articles someone was missing eyes."
"No. There was a dead stag."
"Right. Well there you go. That's what the Hag used then," Bobby said simply downing his beer and retrieving another.
"I… I don't understand," John admitted sheepishly. His head was so foggy from lack of sleep and he just couldn't connect the dots Bobby clearly thought were lined up neatly in a row.
Bobby sighed and muttered under his breath about 'Winchesters and their damned fabled smarts being a whole damn lie' and then turned to John. "They use the pieces of other victims as … sacrifice … and they are able to shape shift whatever piece they sacrificed. They like to use young people… for longevity's sake. That's why she took Sam, he's young and alone and vulnerable.
"It doesn't matter if you had listened to Sam and let him come with you on the hunt, it would have been him that the Hag went after anyways."
John nodded his understand and drank from his bottle deeply. "Why isn't Sam getting better?"
"That I'm not so sure about. From what I've read they work serious spells that aren't voided the moment the monster is killed, it sticks around for a while. Depending, he should be better in a week or it could be a month, hell it could be a year for all I know. But he will get better," Bobby told him. "Now since you idjits decided to barge in at God – knows – what – hour, I'm going back to sleep."
He left the eldest Winchester knowing the man would get no sleep that night.
As he walked past the room with Sam and Dean he stuck his head in quickly to check on the boys. Dean's silent vigil had finally changed to sleep and he sat slumped over onto the bed. When Bobby laid a blanket across Dean's back he woke and blinked sluggishly at the older man then turned back to Sam and promptly passing out again.
Bobby stood quietly in their room for a little while longer, just listening to their breathing. Dean's were soft and even and Sam's was harsh and painful. He ached for the boy. Bobby would give anything to switch positions with the boy.
Finally, he went to bed. The next day was going to be just as tough and stressful and he needed all the energy he could get.
1) Thanks again to AlElizabeth
2) I hope that cleared everything up for everyone. There is lore on the Hag – and I'm sure it is in no way similar to what I wrote – but that's what artistic license is for…. :D
3) Only one more chapter everyone!