Shut The Gates At Sunset 7/21

[soncnica]

Title: Shut The Gates At Sunset 7/21
Author: soncnica
Rating: PG-13
Genre/pairing: gen, h/c
Characters: Dean, Sam
Word count: cca. 3.045 this chapter, the whole story has around 48.040 words.
Summary: Shut the gates at sunset, after that you can't get out. A case finds Sam.
Spoilers: Umm S1?
Warnings: Maybe I can warn for catatonia and abuse but not Sam or Dean... and dunno, blood lose. And Sam has a lot of erm embarassing moments in this fic. Poor kiddo, I made him suffer from something kinda... odd. Let's call it... supernatural injury.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is not mine!
A/N: The title and well the summary come from a song called Enjoy The Ride by Morcheeba. Erm, the song has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it would be an appropriate uh name for it.

Dean reached his hand towards the door and made a fist. Two lion heads were flashing their teeth, eyes drawn together in anger, daring someone… anyone to enter. It sent a chill down Dean's spine.

"Hey, maybe I should knock one of those lions out, huh?"

He turned around and looked at Sam. He plastered on his familiar smirk that visibly relaxed Sam and brought him out of his worry over what they'd find in there.

The door opened with a crack and Sam thought for just a microsecond that the Impala's door was being opened.

"Yes?" came a voice from behind the crack opened door.

After what felt like minutes, a little woman came in their line of sight; a short mop of red curly hair resided on her head, her wide eyes were glistering blue oceans. The little make up she had blended gracefully with her wrinkled skin.

"Hi, we're…"

"Come in boys, its cold outside, you'll catch a cold." she said with a high pitch voice.

She waved a hand in a welcoming gesture, her other hand still supporting the heavy door.

Dean gave Sam a look that Sam interpreted as 'Ooooookkaaaaaayyy, what the hell'?

Sam shrugged and remained standing there like a piece of wood. He was unwilling to move, unable to think, fear already sneaking into him. Everything just felt... off. Sure he dealt with weird things all his life, but this… this was really starting to affect him. It was personal. It became personal the moment 'the accident with the wet pants' happened.

Dean, providing him with some encouragement, tugged his jacket and pulled him roughly inside and stopped him from dwelling over the situation. For now anyway.

They both stumbled inside where they met a huge lobby, white walls, bright lights and a massive staircase right across from them. Their ears met creepy silence, while their nose bathed in the smell of cooked food, alcohol and an all-around hospital smell.

It was cold but still warmer than outside and Sam pulled his hands out of his hoodie. They followed the petite woman all dressed in white with blue nylon stockings decorating her legs. Her skirt was dancing around her little legs, her hips rocking with the sound of her heels tapping on the marble floor until she stopped behind a wide round counter and slipped behind it.

Dean leaned on it with both of his hands while Sam stood behind him.

Sam either felt something wrong or…

"Excuse me," the woman raised her head and looked at him, "could you just point me to your bathroom?"

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You alright honey? You look a little pale."

Her voice gave away her fifty something years of experience.

"Yeah I'm fine. It's just been a long drive you know."

He tried to give her his best 'nothing's wrong' smile that never worked on Dean, but seemed to work on her.

"Just go down this hall," she rose on her tiny little legs and pointed her index finger down the hall on their left, "and then the sixth door on your left. You'll see the sign. Don't worry sweetie."

Dean wanted to throw up with all the sweeties and honeys going on but he knew that, deep down, Sam needed it. He was always the type to need that… a little sugar with a sentence.

"Thank you."

He smiled and walked down the hall.

Dean stared after Sam, noticing his little brother's twitching shoulders and defeated walk. He frowned but then shrugged, deciding to ask about it later and turned to task at hand.

His head turned towards her but his attention never left Sam. He could hear his sneakers squeaking along the marble, see him in his peripheral vision and that presence of sound and blurry figure was the only thing making him concentrate on his job.

"Too much coffee."

He smiled, feeling he needed to offer an excuse for his brother's rather hasty retreat.

She smiled a broad smile stretching from one ear to the other, parting her red lips to show her brownish teeth with some red lipstick still sticking to them.

Too much coffee for you too, lady.

"So boys, what brings you here?"

"We came to visit Ryan Hicks." Straight to the point, no need to lie.

"Family?"

"Cousins."

He offered praying it would be okay.

"Aha."

She typed away on an ancient-looking, dusty piece of plastic that was probably a computer. It looked like one anyway.

"Peter and Lucas?"

She turned her wide oceans to his green plains and waited. Sam had disappeared behind a door and that connection was gone. He was on his own now.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, whatever, "we just wanted to see how he's doing."

The lies were just flying out of his mouth, it was the most natural thing for him. Lying is a skill that comes from experience, one that he had plenty of.

"Do you have any ID's?"

"We just came, you know. It was a spur of a moment thing. We left them in our car, I can go and get them," he started to turn around to walk towards the exit, "if you want to see them." He smiled his big 'I'm the boy you want next door and I wouldn't dream of lying to you' look.

She studied him. She probably knew all the lies, had seen all the smiles, and knew every one of those looks.

"No, that's alright. About your cousin I'm afraid he's not improving, his status is still the same. We're doing everything we can to bring him back, but you know," she sighed, "it's a struggle. He had another episode yesterday and we had to sedate him. But he's awake now, so…"

Dean nodded to the information given to him and plastered on his worried look. And he wasn't lying. No one deserved to be sick, hurt, struggling, having 'episodes', being here…

"Can we see him?"

We really need to see him, lady.

She was still studying him, trying to penetrate his eyes, define the smile.

Come on woman, we're nice, ain't gonna hurt you.

"Sure, darlin'." she said with a sweet voice, maybe even with some pity hiding in there.

Well and I thought that was reserved for Sam.

"Where can we find him?"

Shit, she's studying me again. God, lady I won't murder him. I might do you in though, if you don't let me see him.

"Weren't you here already, visiting him?" she raised her eyebrow.

Crap. Think Dean. Now.

"Yeah, I just thought that you moved him or something, you know."

"Oh no, of course not dear."

Uf, good, damage control… checked.

"He's still up those stairs room 1275."

Jesus, women how many rooms do you have in this place?

"Thank you. I'll just go," he pointed towards the way Sam went, "grab my brother."

"The sixth door on your left."

Yeah lady I got it, if not I'll just look for the sign.

"There is a sign, you can't miss it."

"Thank you."

Shoot me.

He left her standing there, felt her eyes on his back while he walked away from her and it crept him out. His boots created a heavy, thumping sound that echoed up and down the hall, matching the thumping of his heart. He kept his eyes trained on the hallway straight ahead, counting the doors.

"This is one long hall."

The words were a mere mutter but they lost their privacy in the echo that followed.

"They all are, you should know that."

He stopped on his track, his heart fell down into the pits of his stomach.

Jeez lady, trying to give me a frigging heart attack.

"I forgot about it." He rolled his eyes pretty sure she couldn't see that. Like 99 percent sure.

There was no reply to that and he resumed his walk down the hall.

It was a long one. Miles and miles added up in his head. He smiled to himself as he remembered how Sam almost gracefully ran down the hall toward the bathroom.

Miracle he made it.

There were windows both sides of the wall, his reflection looking back at him every few steps, the gray morning penetrating into the hall making everything look dead… deader.

The absence of voices or any kind of noise for that matter made his senses tingle.

Got to get to Sam.

'Looneyville' was the only thought swimming in his mind. The thought of Sam was frontrunner in his mind but today it had a companion.

Hm, Looneyville and Sam, huh, it fits.

He wavered from his path towards one of the windows, the worry about Sam becoming louder and louder. The urge to get irrational and start shouting or tearing things down was almost overwhelming, but he had a job to do.

Everything looked like it was fall instead of summer. Leaves on the floor, faded light, no sun, no warmth, just cold and echoing footsteps from somewhere in the distance.

One light turned on in one of the windows, his eyes traveled into the distance where the Impala sat faithfully waiting.

"Hi, baby."

Seeing the car was the only thing keeping him from losing it. And Sam.

Need to get to him.

He smiled as his eyes met the bathroom sign hanging above the door.

Wow, well, at least she wasn't lying.

He pushed down the handle and opened the door. The smell of urine and some sort of detergent hit him and the combination made him gag.

"Sam."

He closed the door. It was a big bathroom, long and wide. A long line of urinals decorated her right and a line of doors her left wall. The tiles on the floor were a puke inducing green color, a gray and shadowy light coming from the far windows gave the room a grim appearance.

Not that bathrooms generally are a display of hearts and fountains.

"Sam, come on. Zip up. Let's pay the boy a visit."

Nothing.

"Sammy?"

Silence drowned his heart.

"Sam? Come on. Where are you?"

The worry that crept in his voice was iron hot.

"Sammy?"

Iron hot turned to blind panic.

"Sam!" he tried louder this time.

He began pushing the doors of the cubicles inward and when he opened the fifth door and still saw no sign of his kid brother, the panic broke into a white fear.

"Sammy!"

Reaching the eleventh door he pushed it in and hit something solid.

"Sam," he fumbled with the door, trying to make his way inside without breaking it down. It was fear and desperation combined with 26 years of honing breaking-and-entering skills that got him inside.

"Sammy, hey, hey, Sam."

Leave you alone for a minute…

Sam was slouched between the toilet and the wall, sitting on the dirty floor, bundled up in his hoodie. His face was white as the wall behind him used to be, he was sweating buckets of water, his mop of hair plastered to his forehead and blurry eyes blinked slowly up at Dean. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms encircling them.

Dean crouched in front of him and put his hands on Sam's knees both to steady himself and to feel Sam alive and warm.

He could see straight into Sam's eyes, saw the tears gathering, saw him trying to divert his gaze when shame started to crawl in. He glued his eyes to those of his little brother and spoke.

"Sammy, hey. What's wrong?" He tried to sound soft, reassuring, soothing so he lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Dean."

"'S okay, you're alright, you're fine. What happened?"

He could feel Sam trembling beneath his touch.

"I ah," he drew a breath, "came in here and I just," he let go of his knees and brought his hands up to his face wiping the sweat, and are those tears Sammy, "and it hurt."

"Sammy?"

He searched Sam's face looking up and down but Sam showed nothing. Nothing but the constant look of shame and embarrassment.

"Sammy? What?"

He raised his voice, the soft tones doing nothing to help his brother.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter, I'm fine." a response when his brain started to rotate again.

"Sam?"

"'M fine."

He looked at Dean square in the eye and lied.

Dean looked at those eyes and, through a painful smile said: "You're not fine, Sammy. I know you. You are so far from being fine, it's not even funny anymore."

Sam lowered his hands and tried to get up.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back on the floor.

"Dean, let me go… come on..."

He wanted to fight, to shrug Dean off, but he was too weak.

Even though the floor was wet and dirty, Dean needed answers. Needed them now and never mind the smell that made him gag more and more as the clock ticked by. Never mind the scattered toilet paper around them, never mind the green mold on the walls near Sam's head. Never mind the leaking toilet, never mind… just never mind.

"Sam you're not fine. You said it yourself. Now tell me what hurt you."

"I'm fine."

He tried once more to get up and Dean shoved him on the floor again.

"Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what hurt you."

He narrowed his eyes in anger, but he knew Sam would see for what it was. A need to know… to make it better.

"Dean, come on let me up."

He hoped that his eyes would tell Dean what his voice couldn't.

"Sam."

He let go of Sam's right shoulder and grabbed him carefully by his wrist.

"Is it your wrist? Does it hurt?"

He looked at it. No blood, bandage still tightly wrapped.

Okay, not that.

"No more than before." A low growl came out of Sam's mouth and he looked down on his lap.

"Are you gonna make me guess? You'll be sitting on this floor for a long time to come, Sammy, you know how bad I am at guessing."

Okay, a little lie, I always guess right with you Sam, I just need a clue.

No answer from Sam, whose eyes were still glued to his lap, gave Dean all the encouragement he needed.

"Okay, I'll guess. Did you have a vision?"

Nothing.

"Fine. It's not your wrist."

Nothing.

"You saw a mouse?"

Nothing.

"Someone stepped in here while you were peeing?"

Nothing.

"Ah, you saw an itsy bitsy spider?"

Nothing. Not even a smile.

Oh this is bad. This has to be something bad.

"Did you," running out of options he shrugged, "slip?"

Nothing.

It was then that Dean noticed where Sam was looking.

"Okay, hmm, did you pee your…"

"It burned when I peed."

He spoke the words with a voice that formed low in his throat and got lost in the small space between them and Sam hoped that it would stay like that. On second thought; it would be better if the floor would just open up and swallow him.

"Sammy."

No wise remarks, no words of wisdom, nothing but the only word that could soothe them both spoken in the same soft whisper Sam's words were.

"Can we just go," he looked up from his lap, still avoiding Dean's searching eyes, "and talk to the boy?"

Dean's mind was occupied at the moment with Sam's words 'It burned when I peed', repeating over and over again like a broken record.

Okay, it could mean Sam's sick, or it could just be him peeing too much. A doctor, that's what he needs.

No, the feds, shit, can't take him to a hospital. How do you fix something like that on your own? Sam's sick, he's hurt, he needs to be okay. He hasn't had a drink in a while, where's all the fluid coming from? Shit, Sammy what have you, we, gotten ourselves into this time? Okay think. Sam's visions, the boy, Sam's wrist, him peeing every 15 minutes, give or take, it has to be connected. Jesus, Sammy. Okay, okay you'll be fine. I'll fix this, I'll just…

"Trust me Sammy, okay. You'll be fine, alright?"

He captured Sam's face in between his hands and made him look up.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" He saw that Sam meant it, but had to ask just to be sure.

"Yeah."

"Alright then, let's get you up from this floor and let's pay Ryan a visit."

"Yeah."

There was something in that word that stopped Dean.

"Sam?"

"I have to…"

"Again?"

Sam nodded. He really didn't want to but the burning sensation was less painful that the pain of a full bladder.

"Alright, I'll wait outside. Just take your time. Don't rush it."

"I know. I just wish it wouldn't fuckin' burn."

"Just take it easy, alright?"

Dean exited the cubicle with one last glance at Sam and leaned on the small patch of wall dividing the cubicles.

"Sam, I was thinking," he could hear Sam mutter through clenched teeth, probably chewing his lips to divert the pain 'That's never a good thing' and smiled, "I think," hope more likely, "that the wrist and the, hm, peeing are tied to Ryan and your visions."

"I was thinking the same thing." He managed to say through a few shallow breaths.

Sam exited the cubicle and went to the basin to wash his hands. As he turned his back to Dean, Dean saw the defeat lurking in his features. His jeans were wet where he sat on the floor and around his ankle where he stepped in the puddle. Shit, he must be cold.

"Sam?"

Sam turned around from where he was washing his hands and sprayed some water on his hoodie. Great.

"What?"

"Maybe we should go to the motel, get you changed and come back later."

"What? Get me changed? Am I a baby now?"

"You know what I mean."

"No Dean, we're here, we'll go talk to the boy."

And then we'll never step in here again.

"You sure? Sam, you're not okay, you can get sick, err, sicker…"

"Dean... the sooner the better and all that crap." There was a defiance in the voice, one that Dean could never say no to.

"Alright."

He turned around and heard Sam follow.

TBC...

 

Comments

[lazy-8s.livejournal.com]

Loved the update of these last few chapters! Sam continues to be tortured with both physical and emotional pain, and Dean cannot figure out what is happening. Can't wait to see what happens next.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

hey!

yeah I HAD to put up 3 chapters, coz I was away for so long... :) and on Sunday I'll put up chapters 8, 9, and 10 :)

AND

LOL, yeah the boys NEED to figure out what is going on soon or else...

thank you so much for reading!!!!

S.

[vonnie836.livejournal.com]

Oh my, this is getting worse, isn't it? Now Sam is having burning when he pees and he is definitely not doing well at all. Dean was really awesome though. But I can't wait for them to see Ryan and maybe find out a little bit more. Thanks for posting three chapters today. I really was waiting anxiously for this update. Loved it a lot. You sure know how to write. Hugs, Vonnie

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

ahhahaha, it'll get even worse before it gets better... 's always like that :)

Ryan will come soon... actually on Sunday I'll put up chapters 8, 9 and 10 so... yeah... :))

so sorry... I was away for awhile so I put up 3 chapters as an apology! :)

thank you so much!

hugs
S.