Death in the Mountains

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Supernatural characters or Ballad novels characters. The only payment I get is the artistic high!


Nora Bonesteel worked her loom while sitting in the bright sunshine of her living room. Nora could feel a storm building, a bad one. The young ones in the valley were already being buffeted by the winds, but they didn’t have enough sense to come inside or ask for help. They were all bounden by their own fears which kept them from reaching out to one another. Nora shook her head. She and Rattler were getting too old to protect these mountains by themselves now; it was time to train up those who were to follow. The young ones were going to have to get over their fears quickly, or it would be bad for all of them.

At least one of the youngsters was coming to visit her today. Not the one she’d hoped for, but at least it was a start. She’d send a thought out to Rattler. This one would be best left best to his hands. Nora would also start cooking a good meal. That got the men folk up here quick enough and this youngster needed calming. She was baking a cake for the Jessup family anyways. Nora needed to get ready for the funeral. Even though she never attended them, Nora stayed at the family’s home during the ceremony and took care of the old customs.

The next morning Dean told Mrs. Rice that Sam was sick. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d bullied Sam into taking some of the narcotic painkillers the ER doctors gave him for his ribs. Sam was sedated and should remain that way for most of the day. He told her that he thought Sam had heat exhaustion. Betsy had immediately made up a plate of sandwiches and a jug of iced tea to take over to him and was more than happy to give the two of them “the day off”.

“We’d have to close down the campground if it weren’t for you boys” Betsy Rice said. Dean noticed that there were tears in her eyes, which made him uncomfortable.

“Is there anything wrong?” he asked carefully.

“I’m just counting my blessings. Kimberly Jessup was found dead early this morning. She was a good girl, just home from college for the summer. I’m just glad to have y’all up here helping and knowing all my grandbabies are safe. I called all my children this morning”

Dean was continuously amazed by these people. Jude Rice was dying of cancer, the only reason their business was staying open was because he and Sammy were there to help out, and now a woman she knew was dead, and even through her tears she was “counting her blessings”? He made a mental note to never use the terms “hick”, “red neck” or “hillbilly” again. Dean found himself actually blushing and ducked his head.

“Well, you’ve been good to us too Mrs. Rice.’ Dean mumbled.

She smiled. “It’s strange and wonderful how the Good Lord can bring folks in need together. You go rest and take care of Sammy.” Even through his stress he had to smile at how she had started using Sam’s childhood nickname.
“I was thinking about going to see Nora Bonesteel today. Could you give me her phone numbers and directions to her place?”

“Sammy still having problems about seeing Katie Wyler?” Betsy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, honey, let me tell you Mizz Bonesteel doesn’t have a phone. She’s the only one who lives up on Ashe Mountain and the phone company has never strung a line up there. You’ll just have to drive up.” Betsy said with a little laugh and gave him the directions. “Y’all be careful at night. I thought I heard a panther screaming in the woods.” Dean swallowed hard. She’d heard Sammy but thought it was a cat.

He thanked her and took the food and tea and headed back to the cabin.

Sam had woken up twice more during the night with nightmares. He hadn’t screamed at the top of his lungs either time but once he barely made it to the door before he puked. The last time Sam had tried to leave, saying that “they” were going to kill another woman. After Sammy had calmed down and taken the pills, he’d turned him over on his side and put the cooler behind his back. Dean then bent Sam’s knees and bunched up other sleeping bags and clothes around him so Sam couldn’t turn over on his back or stomach. That way if he started puking again there was no chance he could choke or drown in his own vomit. Dean was glad that Dad had made them get emergency medical training. He wouldn’t know what to do with Sam if he didn’t. Dean went to check Sam’s skin temperature, pulse and breathing. His skin felt okay, his pulse was steady and strong and his breath was slow and shallow. His eyes fluttered open as Dean was checking his pulse in his neck, but it was obvious that Sam barely knew where he was. Dean picked up a length of rope and looked at Sammy. He was thinking about tying him down. Crisscrossing the rope over his chest and arms, and then securing him to the bed frame so Sam couldn’t get up while he was gone. Dean threw the rope away violently. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about tying Sammy up. He couldn’t believe he’d already drugged him. Nora Bonesteel was his last chance. If she couldn’t help he’d have to take his little brother to the local mental hospital and hope they could.

Screw it. He couldn’t run the risk of Sam sleepwalking out into the woods. Dean trussed Sam up tight and checked to be sure none of the ropes would cut of cirrculation or slip around his throat. Sam struggled a bit, but he was so drugged he could barely move. When he was through, he knelt by the bed and pressed his forehead to Sammy’s. For just a split second he felt like he could touch his brother’s confusion and pain. Dean kissed him on the top of his head and stroked Sam’s sweaty and greasy hair. “I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean whispered. He was using his childhood nickname not to tease him, but because he remembered Dad saying he was responsible for keeping little Sammy safe when they were kids. In a strange way, Sam had been his responsibility since the night Mom died and Dad put Sammy in his arms and told him to run. “I love you Sammy” Dean whispered. It was the first time he had said it to him since they were little. “Love you Dean” Sam mumbled. Dean kissed his brother lightly on the lips.

He stood up and rubbed his cheeks and eyes with the back of his hand. He needed to hurry so he could get up to see Nora Bonesteel and be back before Sam woke up. Betsy had told him that it could take up to an hour to get up Ashe Mountain. Dean took the shotgun he kept next to the bed to lock in the trunk of the car. He’d brought it in last night just in case he could see what was attacking Sam. Dean hoped it was a monster or ghost of some sort and not Sam’s own demons. He turned the air conditioner up to high to be sure Sam didn’t get too hot while he was gone.

Dean stepped outside and locked the door securely. He turned away from the door to find a man standing less then 10 feet away from him.

“Shit!” Dean swore. He couldn’t believe this guy had snuck up on him. He hoped he hadn’t seen Sammy. The man was about six foot two and looked like he had just walked off the set of a bad western movie. He had the long black hair, coppery skin and dark eyes of a stereotypical Native American. He was wearing nothing but leather leggings and moccasins.

“You are wise to go to Ashe Mountain today.”

Whatever Dean was thinking, he certainly didn’t expect this guy to accuse him of being wise.

“Do I know you?” Dean asked belligerently. Who the hell was this guy? Did Betsy tell him about his trip today?

“No Dean, you do not, but you will.” The man was regarding him with a steady gaze that gave Dean the creeps. Besides talking, he seemed to be standing totally still.

“Who are you?” Dean demanded.

“Some call me Ravenmocker, but I am not here to introduce myself to you. I have come to give you some advice. First, although you have had to be harsh with him, your brother will have a chance to heal. Going to Ashe Mountain today is the best way to do this. Second, Sam would have these problems no matter where he was, and leaving here right now would be disastrous. Third, what you were given in Citico is not what you think, but it will still be useful to you and is not harming Sam. Fourth, the scholar has deceived you, but she regrets this. You need her, so remember what I say of her. And fifth, you have the chance to receive the training you need as well as Sam. Sixth…”

“Who says I need training? And what is all this mystic mumbo jumbo?” Dean interrupted.

Ravenmocker looked at him scornfully. “There is more to Hunting than rock salt, shotguns and lighter fluid. Do you want to hear the last of my message or would you rather lose your brother?”

“Are you threatening him?” Dean was getting more and more worked up. Maybe he should just shoot this friggin’ thing.

“No Dean Winchester, I am not. You and your brother are needed here, and that is my seventh message. There are many needs here, both yours and others. You all touch each other’s lives and can meet your needs through each other. Do not let the isolation of your childhood keep you from receiving the help you so often give. Tell those on Ashe Mountain what I have said.”

With that, the Ravenmocker nodded once and walked into the woods.

Dean thought he had seen it all, but this beat anything he’d ever experienced. This was certainly the first time a ghost had given him advice. Well, he thought it was a ghost. He wasn’t sure what Ravenmocker was. Dean scowled. Was it safe to leave Sammy here with that thing roaming around? And what about Katie Wyler? Where the hell is Citico? It sounded familiar, but Dean couldn’t place it. Some of the ghosts they encountered on the asylum job were helpful. Maybe Ravenmocker was one of their kind.

Dean began running up to the campground lobby, the shotgun still in his hand. He slowed down as he approached the office. Dean walked in and Betsy came out to the office to see him.

“Dean, what’s the matter? Has Sammy taken a turn for the worse?”

Dean took a deep breath. “No, he’s okay, just tired. I saw something, though.”

Betsy looked at him cautiously. “What was it?”

Dean told her about Ravenmocker, but left out the advice he gave him. He just said that he had told him that Sam would be ok.

To his relief, Betsy just smiled and shook her head. “Y’all do seem to attract the spirits. I’ve never seen Ravenmocker myself, but don’t you worry about him. He probably just saw Sam out there working and was checking on him since he wasn’t out yet today. Ravenmocker might be a bit of a prankster, but he never hurt no one. You don’t mind him.”

Dean thanked her and turned to leave.

“Dean honey!” Betsy called to him when he got to the door. “Hunting season hasn’t opened yet! It doesn’t start until the end of this month!” Dean looked at her blankly for a moment before he realized he was still holding the shotgun. He looked at the campground’s calendar and was shocked to see that it was well into August. They had been here for over a month!

When he got in the Impala, Dean wrote down everything he could remember about Ravenmocker’s message.

Vera Kesterson was distraught that day but trying not to show it. Her eyes, like so many others, had tears in them. She kept looking for Sam and Dean but they never came in. Vera waited until about 2.30 and decided she was going to have to go find them.

Vera carried a large burden of guilt in addition to sorrow. She’d asked the Gods for help, and when it arrived she was so busy being amused by their naiveté to be honest with them. Maybe if she’d have done things differently Kim would still be alive. Sam needed her help too, and she wasn’t going to let him get hurt or die because of her arrogance. If need be she would swallow her pride and fears and go to Nora Bonesteel. Vera didn’t think that she would deny her help to anyone, even a Wiccan. Even if she lost her job or the locals started harassing her, she’d accept it. Despite the brother’s silly lies she and everyone else knew that they were staying up at the KOA. No one was in the library, so Vera just locked up and put a sign on the door.


Dean had a lot of time to think as he drove up to Nora Bonesteel’s. Sammy seemed to be worried about what he would think of him if he were gay. Two months ago Dean might have been freaked. Now he didn’t care. Dean couldn’t believe that he could ever been concerned about Sam fucking guys. Hell, Sam could have a boyfriend join them hunting and he’d be glad. That would mean Sam was okay and up to hunting again.

He just wanted Sammy to be okay again.


Nora had her cooking done for Dean’s visit and Rattler arrived about a half hour ago. They could see the trail of dust his car was kicking up as he drove up the dirt road. Rattler was carving a rose out of a large piece of cherry wood and Nora was knitting. She had made a full set of baby woolens for Clayt and Kelly Stargill’s baby that was coming at the end of September, as well as an afghan for his crib. She was now knitting a pretty sweater for Kayla Stargill, Kelly’s daughter from a prior marriage. Her no good daddy agreed to give up his parental rights so he wouldn’t have to pay child support and Clayt could adopt her. Kelly was the Wake County dispatcher and Clayt worked for the Park Service these days. The two of them might have a role to play in this before the storm was over. Nora and Rattler were pleased. Little Kayla was strong in the Sight and so was the little one coming. Since both Kelly and Clayt’s parents were dead Nora stood in as the children’s grandmother. Another generation of Guardians was being born. Now all they needed to do were straighten out the Guardians and Hunters that were coming fully into their responsibilities.

Dean was anxious as he pulled his car up to the mailbox. The house looked like it was well over a hundred years old and had a large yard around it. Dean noticed a garden of some sort over to the other side of the house and there were flowers everywhere. On the covered front porch two people sat, both in rocking chairs. One was an elderly woman knitting, the other a slightly younger man whittling.

“Come on up Dean.” The woman called out to him. “I’ll set dinner on the table.” Dinner? It was early afternoon. Dean hoped she wasn’t senile. Then he realized she knew his name too and he faltered for a step. Was everyone in this friggin’ county either a psychic or a ghost?

The woman who he assumed must be Nora walked into the house. The old man laughed.

“Come and sit a spell. We all need to talk a bit. I go by Rattler and the lady who greeted you is Nora Bonesteel. A flatlander young ‘un like you doesn’t drive all the way up here unless he has a mighty big problem. Don’t be too scared of Nora. Everybody here ‘bouts know ‘bout you two. The Rice’s are well liked and they speak highly of you and your brother.” Rattler was trying to make Dean more comfortable. He looked like a frightened bird ready to take off. That wasn’t why Nora knew who he was, but he wasn’t going to tell Dean.

Dean sat down in Nora’s vacant chair, feeling uncomfortable. How could he just blurt out his fears? Or tell them that he had drugged and tied up his younger brother because he was afraid he was delusional and might wander off and hurt himself?

Rattler looked him over with a kindly eye. “Young ‘un, we have a notion as to what’s happen’ here ‘bouts. You ain’t alone in this unless you want to be. You and your poor brother back at the campground are ‘a needin’ our help.”

“I saw Ravenmocker this morning!” Dean blurted out after a few moments, not knowing what to say.

Rattler laughed. “I’m glad to know I ain’t the only one he pesters!”

Dean was saved from responding by Nora coming to the door and telling them to come in for supper. Walking into the living room, Dean was stunned. Most of the back wall of the living room had been removed and replaced with glass that gave an awesome view of the mountains around them. In a corner near the window was a gigantic hand loom. The room was large and sparsely furnished, but even Dean had to admit it was beautiful with its oak wood paneling and floors. Rattler nudged him in the back to get him to follow Nora.

“I am glad you like my home.” Nora said with a rare smile. The kitchen turned out to be another study in simple beauty. Nora motioned to him to sit down in a ladder back chair while serving him cold roast chicken and some sort of vegetable sandwiches. She poured him a tall glass of what looked like pink lemonade.

“The food looks good” Dean said quickly, “but I’ve got to back to Sam.” Haltingly, he told them what he did to Sammy before he left.

“Your brother will be alright” Nora said calmly. “He’s still asleep and will be for a good while now. You don’t need to go charging back before you get what you need to help him. Now tuck into your food.” Dean started eating.

“Dean here says that Ravenmocker a ‘came to see him today. What’d he say?” Dean was glad Rattler took the initiative.

Dean pulled out the list he had written down in his pocket. He quickly went over the list of seven things Ravenmocker had told him.

Nora and Rattler both seemed to consider this for a few moments as they ate. Dean sipped his lemon aid and was surprised by the flowery taste of the drink in addition to lemon. He liked it and found himself slugging back most of the glass. It seemed to fill a deep craving he didn’t know he had. Nora didn’t comment and refilled his glass.

“Thanks.” Dean mumbled feeling embarrassed. He had to get out of here soon. This town was too freakin’ weird even for him. The sandwiches were cucumber and tomato on some kind of home baked bread and were very good too.

Nora and Rattler looked at each other, trying to decide how much he could handle hearing.

“I think we can explain most of what Ravenmocker told you.” Nora said slowly. “Your little brother, Sam, he has the Sight?”

“You mean psychic?” Dean asked. Nora nodded.

“Yeah. Sam seems not to be able to control it. I think it’s making him sick.”

“Those that start using it after their childhood often have problems with it. Can you think of any reason he would try not to use it?” She asked.

Dean swallowed a mouthful of chicken. “Well, we’ve spent most of our lives hunting since Mom died…Sam left us to go to college. He only started again after Dad didn’t come back from a job he was doing alone and his fiancée died. We found out that Dad died in a car wreck while fighting a ghost.” Dean trailed off. How could he explain this to them? He had never talked about hunting to anyone besides Dad and Sam. They only told the people they helped the absolute minimum.

“Those critters y’all hunted scared him bad, didn’t they?” Rattler asked, nodding wisely. Dean was beginning to relax. It was becoming easier to talk with them since he didn’t have to explain every little thing.

“Yeah.” Dean said slowly. He thought it was just normal kid fear. Sammy always seemed more scared of them when they were kids than he was. Maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe he felt them as well as saw them. Dean was feeling guilty about making fun of him for it now. He was probably part of what caused him to try to block his abilities. He’d called him a sissy, a girl and a scardy cat when Dad wasn’t around.

“I think we can help him,” Nora said. “How long has he been having trouble with the Sight?”

“A little more than a month.”

“Good” Nora said. “It will make it easier to get him straight. I was afraid it was longer. We’ll talk about what you need to do with him right before you go so it will be fresh in your mind.”

Rattler nodded. “I reckon I agree with Ravenmocker about Sam a’ leavin’. Folks up here understand these things. I think we can set him right a’ fore too long.”

“Let’s move to the living room since we have finished up. I’ll clear the table later. Bring your drink son, you need it.”

Dean looked at Nora. “What’s in it?” he asked.

“Lemon, honey and lavender from the garden. It is good for stress and worry. You can have all you want. I reckon you need it bad enough.”

Sitting down in the living room Dean had to admit he was feeling less stressed out in days. These two seemed to know what they were talking about.

“Now Citico is easy enough.” Nora said. “There was an Indian city called Citico in what is now Chattanooga. One of the biggest Indian mounds in the country was there before they destroyed it at the beginning of the last century.”

“That’s where I heard about it.” Dean said amazed again. He was beginning to understand. “We killed some kind of dragon down there and this guy gave us some crystals that he said was its scales.”

Rattler sounded amused. “Gave ‘em to you in doe’s skin and told you they needed to be blooded sometimes?”

“Yeah.” Dean was feeling encouraged. He was actually getting somewhere with all these mysteries.

‘Whose blood have you been using?” Rattler asked.

“Mine and Sam’s.”

“Keep them.” Nora said. “They can be useful sometimes. Blood calls to blood. As for the scholar, I don’t know.”

“Me neither” Rattler says. “How long have you and your brother been a ‘hunting again and who taught you?”

“Since mom died when I was about six, Sammy was just a baby. He was still on bottles when we started. Dad taught us.”

“Who taught your Daddy?” Nora asked.

“Nobody. He taught himself. Who else could have taught him?” Dean was confused. Nora and Rattler glanced at each other. Dean saw it and was beginning to worry again.

“There are plenty of other Hunters out there, son.” Rattler began gently. “I’m surprised you never met any of ‘em.”

“You’re not talking about deer, are you?”

“No.” Nora said and picked up her knitting. “There are others that also travel and help folks out with evil creatures. They generally recognize each other and help each other along. Some areas don’t generally need Hunters unless something really bad comes along because they have Guardians that stay in one place.”

“Other hunters?” Dean was feeling dazed again. He was beginning to feel like he needed more than lavender lemonade to keep him calm. Wait, he remembered other people on a few jobs trying to talk to Dad and he had told them to fuck off. They seemed to be talking to Dad about him and Sammy. Were these guys the other Hunters they were talking about? He never saw any kids with them.

Nora nodded. “Since your little brother has the Sight, it should smooth your way. Most Hunting groups have at least one with the Sight. Just you and your brother make up a very small group. Most have three to six people, and like being a Guardian, it tends to run in families. Groups are usually made of brothers and sisters, cousins and parents and aunts and uncles. Not everyone in Hunter families goes out to Hunt, but their children often will. This gives the Hunters a family that understands and a place to rest up. It also gives them a place to retire when they get tired or hurt. There are a lot of marriages between Hunter families. Who else can understand? You and little Sammy don’t have that.” Dean sensed that Nora wanted to say more, but decided against it.

“Now as for Sam. Getting him to sleep today is the best you could have done for him, but I don’t approve of your methods.” Nora pinned him briefly with a stern stare. “There were other things you could have done for him if you would have known.”

“Like what?” Dean was confused again.

“You can put a line of salt in front of your door and a cup of it on the windows of wherever you’re staying. That’ll keep critters out.”

Rattler nodded. “If he has trouble with his mind a wandern’, you can be sure he has a belly full of good red meat. He can still sense things, but they won’t be a getting’ to him as much. Fresh food is good, too. Help keep his mind clear.”

Great, Dean thought, something else to feel guilty about. He didn’t think a constant diet of pizza and fast food counted as fresh food. He felt like he was taking a class in “The Care and Feeding of Your Psychic 101.”

“I made up a batch of tea for you to give your brother a’ fore he goes to bed. It’ll help him sleep but if a critter comes a’ callin' he’ll wake up just fine.”

“I thought tea had caffeine in it.” Dean was wondering if he was ever going to get over being confused and startled by these people.

“This is herbal tea son, chamomile and more lavender.” Rattler explained. “Physical work will help ‘em stay in control ‘til he gets hisself taught.”

Nora nodded. “See if you can get him a quilt, best be in a Star of Bethlehem pattern or a Double Ring pattern to sleep under at night. Those quilts have protective patterns. Finding one for yourself would be good as well.”

“Now, you should be getting back to your brother.” Rattler said. “But a ‘fore you go, there is one last thing we need to talk to you about.” Dean nodded, wondering what they were about to lay on him next.

“Since your Daddy passed, you’re the head of your family now. I know brothers clash with one ‘nother, but you’re the eldest. Now this don’t mean you should order him around ‘cause it sounds like he has a good head on his shoulders. You should listen to him, but you need to be in charge. Listen to him, ‘cause with the Sight he could well keep many folk’s body and soul together. You’re responsible for takin’ care of him when he needs it.”

“He’s gonna love that.” Dean said with a smirk.

Nora smiled. “Bring him up day after tomorrow. I’ll start to work with him. I’ll talk to him about it. You’ve more time Hunting than he does.”

“We’ll go out while they work. There are some things you need to learn.” Rattler said, looking amused.

“Okay” was Dean’s only response. He didn’t feel up to any more shocks today.

Rattler gave Dean a jug of tea and Nora sent him off with a plate of roast beef and fresh vegetables from her garden.

Dean was glad for the long drive down Ashe Mountain. Today had been an emotional rollercoaster. It gave him a chance to think about things before he got back to Sam.


Vera arrived at the KOA. After a brief conversation with Betsy she headed down to the brothers’ cabin. She knew that only Sam was there and resting, so she knocked loudly on the door. Sam heard the knocking, but he was still so dazed form the drugs. He tried to get up, but couldn’t move. His mind told that something was wrong, but he couldn’t hang on to the thought long enough to know what it was.

Vera decided Sam was either sleeping hard or went with Dean after all. She grabbed some things out of her car and decided to get to work and just leave a note.

Spencer had his hands full today. Two of the five missing people had been found in Wake County and one other was found in the National Forest. All three of the bodies were found nude in caves, and like Kim Jessup, their clothes were folded neatly by their bodies and it looked like they had been posed to appear that they were masturbating. Due to most of East Tennessee being made up of limestone, there were thousands of little caves and sinkholes in the area where bodies could be hidden. Spencer was thankful that all three of the dead people were not locals. That should keep the grapevine quiet, at first at least. Martha was off on escort duty for Kim Jessup’s funeral, but he would have her out to the crime scene as soon as she finished. Clayt Stargill had called out the FBI for the body found in the National Forest. Spencer was devoutly glad that Clayt was a local and knew how to keep his mouth shut. While he wouldn’t know the cause of death until the autopsy reports came back, Spencer knew that they were looking at a potential serial murderer. After the autopsy reports came back he’d have to make a statement to let the community know and then all hell was going to break loose.


Dean felt relieved when get saw the cabin as he drove up. The door looked like it was still locked.

But the day wasn’t through with its surprises. As he got closer he saw a multi-colored bundle next to the door. He got out of the car and ran to the porch. He saw a note on the top of what looked like a quilt.


I brought some things out for you. I hope it helps. I wasn’t totally honest with you when you first came to the library. I’m sorry. Please call me!

Vera

There will two phone numbers at the bottom of the note. Dean shook out the quilt and saw that it had a star pattern. Was this the Star of Bethlehem pattern Nora Bonesteel told him about? Then he noticed a line of salt in front of the door. What the hell? He decided that he would figure it out later. He needed to get inside and check on Sammy

Sam was slowly waking up. He had struggled against the ropes but decided they were too tight to get out of them. It looked like he was still in the cabin by the dim light coming in through the curtains on the windows. He felt sweaty and greasy and desperately wanted a shower. His back itched and his stomach churned. Whoever had tied him up had put him on his side, so they wanted to keep him alive. Sam was relieved. He wouldn’t be surprised if he puked the way his guts were feeling.

Then Sam started waking up enough to be scared. He couldn’t remember most of the last day. The last thing he could clearly remember was coming back from the library. How long had he been tied up? Who did it? Sam realized he had a major headache. His stomach started cramping again. He tried to hold back a wave of nausea. Then Sam did throw up, since he had little on his stomach he threw up mainly bile. He spat out as much of it as possible. Great, now he had puke under his cheek and the taste of it in his mouth.

Right when he was about to start shouting for help he heard a key in the lock. He was struck by a surge of terror and a new wave of sweat prickled his skin.

“Dean?” He asked as the door swung open. The light stabbed his eyes and he couldn’t see anything. The door banged closed and the overhead light was turned on. Sam retched again and his gut felt like it was trying to tie itself in a knot.

“It’s okay Sammy, I’m back.” Sam was relieved to hear his brother’s voice. He felt a wet paper towel cleaning up his face and blinked his eyes, trying to let them adjust so he could see. Then he felt Dean begin to untie him.

“What happened? Why am I tied up?”

“We’ll talk after I get you out of this and cleaned up. You’ve had a rough two days.” Dean sounded gruff and Sam could imagine the scowl on his face even if he couldn’t see him well. It seemed to be taking a long time to get him untied.

“I want to know what happened!” Sam was feeling more and more cranky.

“Too bad, Sammy, you’re the one tied up.”

“Quit calling me Sammy!”

“Too bad.” Now Sam could see Dean’s scowl. “After I get you out of this we’re going to get you cleaned up, put on a load of laundry, get some food in you and then we’ll talk.”

Dean finally got all the ropes off him and unzipped him from the bag.

Sam tried to get up all at once and found himself on the floor. Dean caught him and lowered him to the ground and away from the pool of vomit. Dean handed him a bottle of water and some crackers. Then Dean began digging around to find him some clean clothes. After cleaning out his mouth Sam tried again.

“Who tied me up? What’s been happening?” Sam was getting more and more pissed off with Dean not telling him anything.

“After we get you cleaned up and fed.” Was all Dean said. He got together a bundle of clothes and a couple of towels. “Come on, we’re going to the showers. Take it easy getting up.” Sam had an irrational urge to sit there until Dean told him something. Maybe his stink would get him to talk. Finally, he decided to go along with him for now. Sam levered himself up with the help of the bed and staggered a few steps towards the door. Dean caught his arm in a possessive grip to steady him and then pulled him along.

“Let go” Sam snapped trying to jerk his arm out of Dean’s grip.

“I’m not letting you fall on your ass again. Come on.” Dean dragged him up to the showers and put him in the handicapped stall with wall bars.

“Leave the curtain open and tell me if you feeling dizzy again.”

“I don’t need you to baby sit me while I’m taking a shower!”

“Too bad.” Sam glared at Dean before taking his clothes off and turning on the water. He did have to admit that he was feeling much better by the time he finished. It was good to feel clean again. Dean watched him as he dried himself off and put on his clothes. He was uncomfortable with Dean watching him so closely.

Dean gathered up his dirty clothes. “Come on, do you think you can eat?”

“Yeah.” Sam replied with a sulky tone. “I’m not a kid anymore. Tell me something!”

“No, you’re not a kid anymore, but you need to take it easy until we get this psychic stuff figured out. You’ve been sick. You’ll understand things better after you eat.” Dean decided telling him he was sick was better that telling him he had been out of control and he almost took him to the hospital. “You feeling steadier on your feet?”

“Yes” Sam said. Dusk was falling, bringing cooler temperatures. It felt good to be outside.

Dean grabbed a plate out of the car on the way to the cabin.

“Sit down on the porch to eat this, okay? I’ll go in and clean things up.” Dean handed him a plate full of roast beef with carrots, potatoes and green beans. The food was good and he was particularly enjoying the roast beef. Sam noticed the quilt on the porch, grabbed it and saw the note.

“What’s this? Where’d it come from?” Sam asked.

“That’s part of the fun today.” Sam could hear the sarcasm in his voice. “I think it’s a Star of Bethlehem quilt but where it came from I’m not sure.” Dean said as he came through the door with a load of laundry.

“Did you get the note off it?”

“Yeah” Sam said. “Who’s Vera?”

“She works at the library.” Dean snagged the quilt as he headed up to the laundry room.

Sam felt a little disgruntled. He wakes up tied down to a bed and was obviously drugged. Dean comes back, won’t tell him anything but is in one of his weirder moods. He was acting like he had actually been thinking. Today hadn’t been fun for him at all.

Dean came back down from the laundry and sat down on the porch with Sam. Dean looked back over his shoulder and saw a line of salt across the door. He smiled.

“What?” Sam snapped.

‘Okay Sammy, I’m going to tell you what’s going on, but you have to promise not to interrupt me and not try to beat my ass until after I’m done. I’ve found out a lot today.” Dean gave Sam a rare, unguarded smile. He was going to get his little brother back.

Sam bit his tongue at the use of his childhood nickname, and wondered why Dean was worried about him kicking his ass.