Sick Cycle Carousel
By Kayla020

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Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but I wish I did. However, all the mistakes are unfortunately mine.

Summary: Sam and Dean have found another hunt, but all is not what it seems when something unexpected happens to the younger brother. Can they fix it in time to kill the spirit, or will there be a debt to pay?

Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, and I do not know how long it will go for. If people enjoy the story and want more, I'll be more than happy to continue! The start is slow, but it will pick up. I'm so nervous about posting this, don't be too harsh?

---

"If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine.
If it had a home, would it be my eyes?
Would you believe me if I said I am tired of this?
Well, here we go one more time."

---

Gage had been busted, and he knew there was no excuse or lie he could tell to turn everything right side up. His throat was dry, lacking the fluids he needed to produce speech. He had never seen his girlfriend so riled up, with fire blazing in her chocolate eyes. Flames of fury surrounded her petite body, the conversation heating up. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean,” Gage fumbled with his words, stopping when Linda held up her hand. He gnawed his ivory teeth down into his lower lip, grasping onto how much trouble he was in.

“You’re sorry? You slept with her, Gage! How could you?” she screamed as she stomped her foot. Linda was actually grateful that they were inside, that way, they wouldn’t make a spectacle of themselves. Tears would soon start trickling down her roseate cheeks, and she knew she wouldn’t able to stop them.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Linda stole one last glance at him, then turned her back. She disregarded his last mumbled apology and walked out of the apartment. The brunette haired woman crossed her arms across her chest as she jogged home, releasing her pent up emotions along the way.

Gage stood still with his mouth gaping open, his limbs paralyzed by shock and dismay. He wanted to go after her and tell her to come back, but the damage had already been done. The twenty three year old released a heavy sigh as he rubbed a callused hand over his clean shaven face. He finally moved after five minutes of staring at the freshly painted door. Each step was broken and unnatural, his once proud shoulders slouched over. Cold air penetrated his pores when he went outside, his mind pulling a blank as to where he was actually headed.

He hit the bar, drinking excessively until he was kicked out for a minor bar fight. His anger had to be taken out on something, and that happened to be the haggard male that was sitting beside him. Gage staggered up the sidewalk, taking a shortcut through a desecrated warehouse. Broken shards of glass lay scattered across the graphitized floor, crunching when under weight. The door suddenly slammed shut, and the drunken man was trapped inside the building.

He pursed his lips and pivoted on his heel, nearly falling. Gage chuckled to himself, only quieting when he felt a frigid breeze brush against his back. “What wa’ that?” He turned his head to look over his shoulder, noticing an unfamiliar woman hovering inches off of the ground. What the hell? His reactions were too slow, a rusted knife plunged into his chest before he could attempt to run. “Betrayer,” his assailant shrieked as she twisted the blade, crimson blood spilling out of the open wound.

Gage gargled on the liquid filling his mouth before falling to the ground with a dull thump. The spirit cackled, the clamorous sound reverberating off of the walls. A malevolent grin crossed her pallid features as she stared at the carcass sprawled across the floor. The scene was an elegant painting, the blood resembling thick coated paint. She was satisfied with her work, a feeling of accomplishment overwhelming her as she disappeared into the night.

---


Thick droplets of rain pounded against the small diners glass windows as streaks of lightning lit up the darkened sky. All the customers were too engrossed in their conversations and meals to pay any attention to the fast approaching storm. Natures fury was nothing of great attraction to the people of Lacon, a small town in Illinois that only had a population of two thousand. Sam and Dean Winchester were just passing through, the eldest's patience waning away as his food took longer and longer to arrive. Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean's eyes as he noticed his attention stray towards the unmoving doors of the kitchen, again.

"Could you at least act like you care?" Sam stated, his tone rising and falling at the perfect moments to emphasize his annoyance. He firmly regretted sitting so close to the chefs work area.

"Dude, you don't have to make eye contact for it to be qualified as listening," Dean grumbled as he grudgingly turned around to face his younger brother. He heard bits and pieces of what was said, his stomachs roar practically overruling Sam's voice.

“Whatever.” Sam sighed a heavy sigh and lifted up the local newspaper, reading the fine print beneath the main headline out loud. “Gage Newton, a twenty three year old local, was found stabbed to death in an abandoned warehouse. His girlfriend was interviewed after they found the body and she said that they got into a fight earlier that evening. The crime scene was clean of all fingerprints, or any evidence for that matter. Four deaths have been recorded like it in the past.” Sam inhaled deeply once he was done, letting the long article drop back down onto the wooden table.

“Have any idea what’s going on, college boy?” Dean asked, purposely lacing his voice with curiosity.

“It’s hard to tell now, it can be anything.” Sam was quick with coming up with theories, it was only a matter of them being correct.

“Keep working on it.” Dean smirked at his sibling, a grin hiding beneath the trademark expression. He slowly rotated his body away from Sam and back towards the inviting smell of cooking fries and hamburgers.

---

Inside the kitchen, cooks hustled to get orders filled. They were each assigned their own jobs, some failing miserably to get them done. Timothy was usually the most efficient, but today, he was lagging behind. He didn’t want to go to work, but he knew he had to in order to pay rent. His nose was stuffed, throat was sore, and he felt a sneeze building. He didn’t have time to cover his mouth, all the germs spraying onto an uncooked hamburger patty. Timothy was far too tired to make another, so he put it on the grill. There wasn’t a single person that noticed, or cared.

---

The food arrived after ten minutes of waiting, Dean’s boredom quickly subsiding when he saw the packed meat sub. He picked it up and took a bite, nodding his head vigorously to show to his approval. The flavor was more than delightful, especially to his deprived taste buds.

Sam followed Dean’s lead by taking a bite of his hamburger, unaware of the ingredients used to make it. Some ground beef, with a side of germs. He would pay a heavy price later, his money cashed in right when bit into the bun.

---

To be continued? You decide!

The lyrics on the top are Sick Cycle Carousel by Lifehouse.

great start plz add more soon

Sick Cycle Carousel
By Kayla020

--

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, unfortunately.

Author’s Note: This chapter is pretty slow, and I apologize. I don’t want to move the story too fast, and I wanted to get this update out. Everything will start to come together next chapter, promise!

---

“Rain rain go away, come again another day.
All the world is waiting for the sun.
Is it you I want?
Or, just the notion of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around?”

---

The local newscaster's high pitched voice blared through the television's speakers, breaking the silence that laid over the room. Sam was uncomfortably seated on his bed, laptop rested against his propped up knees. They wouldn’t be able to make any advancements in their latest hunt if he neglected researching. Since Lacon was already beginning to get on his nerves, he wanted to make their stay as short as possible. Though it hadn’t even been a complete day since their arrival, the constant downpour of rain and the overly chipper citizens drove Sam insane. Just leaving the diner, they got more than the average dosage of goodbyes. Both boys saw it as overly ominous, rather than warm and sincere.

Dean, not thinking about the negatives of the town, was situated on the bed closest to the door. The sleeping arrangement was an old habit carried on from their childhood. His duty was to protect his kid brother, and he figured that if someone or something were to break in, he could block them from getting to Sam. He would shield his brother from the world if it kept him from getting hurt or injured.

Sleep was definitely less stressful if he knew Sam was safe, if his main creases of worry were smoothed away.

---

Sam had only been five years old, his youthful innocence still completely in tact. Dad had gone on another hunt, leaving the two boys alone. They were used to the long weeks out and the sudden departures, and had grown quite accustomed to the cheap motel they were staying in.

They both lay sound asleep in the back bedroom, the moon casting an iridescent glow on the closet doors. Dean was snoring boisterously, but Sam remained completely oblivious to the additional noise. He was usually a light sleeper, but had been knocked out cold by exhaustion.

Loud bangs jolted Dean back to consciousness, his hands automatically reaching down to yank the covers off of his growing body. He slid off of the mattress and looked over at Sam, relief flooding through his bones and joints when he saw that his eyes were still firmly closed.

He didn’t want to deprive Sam of anything, even if it was something as simple as a good nights rest.

Dean snuck out of the room, grabbing a gun that was normally hidden on his way out. He knew how to shoot, and would if he saw danger lurking behind the walls.

He passed through the kitchen, still not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Dean thought he had imagined it, until he heard it again. His motions stop, his tough demeanor diminishing when he realized the person, or whatever it was, could already be in the motel. Tremors shot up and down his spine, the thought chilling him to his very core.

Fear scratched and bathed Dean’s heart with hesitance, immediately causing his mind to go into a state of turmoil. He really wasn’t prepared for an intruder, despite all the training his father had put him through. When images of Sam’s face passed through his head, he sprung into action. Sam was his best friend, and thinking of him had given Dean a spark of confidence.

Dean sidled through each of the rooms, stopping every time he heard another bang. When he was almost done searching the entire motel, he found the exact cause of all the racket. Loosely hinged shutters were hitting the frame of an open window. He laughed to himself, letting out a breath of air that he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

They were going to be okay. Most importantly, Sam was going to be okay.

---

“Dean, you still with me?” Sam questioned, studying Dean’s concentrated and dazed expression.

“What?” Dean answered absentmindedly, shaking his head to clear the memory. “Sorry, what were you saying?” He ran a hand through his short sandy hair, then shifted his awkward sitting position.

“All of the victims have been males in their twenties, with completely clean records. They haven’t been busted for any crimes, or anything else that’s kill worthy.” Sam huffed, irritated by the drought of information. He knew it would take time, but he feared that they had none to waste.

“Houston, we have a problem.” Dean laughed at his witty remark, always the one to shatter a serious moment into shambles.

“This just means we’re going to have to talk to the families of the victims, smart ass,” Sam said, wrapping the sentence up with a poke to his brothers ego. The corners of his lips curved upwards into a smile that wasn’t deprived of happiness.

“I’m not dealing with another Stepford family, a little too creepy for my taste.”

“Creepy is normal for us, Dean,” Sam replied, envisioning all the creepy and freaky creatures they had dealt with. The list never seemed to end, and only got longer with each passing day.

“Touché,” Dean retorted, averting his attention back to the television as Sam started his research process back up again.

---

Sam woke up early due to a rhythmic pounding in his head, each beat in tune with his pulse. He figured it was just because he had been staring at a computer screen all night long, straining his eyes. That was a logical reason, and he was going to stick with it. He wouldn't dare think it was something more.

In hopes of ridding himself of the sudden headache, he gently massaged his temples.

His efforts came up short, the blows only intensifying. He knew he would be completely and utterly useless if he didn’t overcome the newest obstacle, so he got up unsteadily to search for a pill. He found one in a kitchen cabinet and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it dryly. Sam was left to ride out the twinges and aches until the medication started to work.

Pain was a fighter, but he wasn’t going to let it pull him down. He was going to assert equal force and shove back.

He shuffled his feet across the floor after punching agony square in the gut, careful not to topple over. His vision was swaying like the deck of a ship, the room an angry swirl of colors. His hands were holding onto anything that was near with a vice like grip, knuckles turning white. He didn't know how he was going to manage to wash up, but knew he had to since first impressions were important when meeting strangers.

---

When Dean heard water steadily running he quickly jumped out of bed and ran up to the bathroom door. He repeatedly rapped his fist against the white washed wood, trying to get Sam’s attention. Dean knew that he wouldn’t get a warm shower if his brother stayed in there long enough.

Sam got out of the shower as soon as the knocks started, getting dressed before coming out. He had managed to regain his equilibrium, and for that, he was proud. He didn't want to show any signs of weakness to his older brother, because then he would hover over him like a mother hen.

“It’s all yours.”

Dean scowled and stalked into the bathroom, giving the appearance of a six year old who hadn’t gotten their fair share of presents during the holidays. He knew all the hot water had been used, just because of the mist that clouded the surfaces of the mirrors.

Sam had forgotten to dry his shaggy hair in the haste of the moment, which was a good sign when he was going to be standing out in the pouring down rain. His immune system was already breaking down from the virus he had contracted, and the frigid weather would only make his condition worsen. He was digging himself a deep hole, and he didn’t even know it.

---

Read and review, pretty please?

The lyrics on the top are Rain by Breaking Benjamin.

This is good - please keep going with it.

Very nice job on your first fic, and welcome to the crazy world of writing fanfiction.

I just fell into this one by accident, and I'm very glad I did. Can't wait to see how you are going to put poor Sam through the ringer with this virus.

And the fact that he falls into the age group of the victims is going to be doubly angsty.

I think our boys are in for a rough ride.... :o

Jules :cloud9

Caught the first 2 chapters on ff.net and am really enjoying the start of this story! :)

Totally gross image of sneezing on the burger though, will think twice before ordering one in future! :rotfl

Jules is right though, Sam falls into the category of the deceased and he also has a clean record and Dean doesn't so that should rule him out! :huh:

Loved the little flashback of Dean's too! :)

Looking forward to reading more! :)

Sarah

Aw, thank you so much! I'll try to get the update out as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I have seven dance shows this week. I wish that was an exaggeration.
I should have it by Sunday or Monday, maybe sooner! :)
I don't want to make the time span between updates too long!

No problem - we'll happily wait for a few days.

Whew - sounds like a busy schedule - don't forget to take some time out for yourself in there somewhere.

Jules :cloud9

Uh oh...well this just doesn't look well at all.

I gotta tell you the name and the lyrics at the beginning were what caught my attention. Did Three Days Grace do a remix? The song I know is by Lifehouse. Hmmmmm...I should try to find that CD....I suddenly really want to listen to that song now. And great choice with Breaking Benjamin! *wink wink*

Yes, welcome to the wonderful world of fanfic. Awesome work so far for a first piece, I'm intruiged to read more. You've got the boys spot on so far, and the bit about the cook sneezing into the burger was just gross!

*shudders*

Gotcha gotcha that life's busy, but we all like to hang out and lay around while waiting, so you're good there. :)

Kris

great update i love it add more soon

That was actually a mistake on my part, my bad! :unsure: It is by Lifehouse! It really is an amazing song, so, I couldn't go without putting the lyrics on. :D

Thank you so much for the reviews everyone, they're greatly appreciated!

Sick Cycle Carousel
By Kayla020

---

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, unfortunately.

Author's Note: I know, this update was too slow. Life got in the way, and took away from my writing time. Seven dance shows drained me of all my energy, and I didn’t want this chapter to be to horrifically terrible. But here it is, finally! I should be getting updates out faster, now that I have winter break.

---

“Heaven bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire.
Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight.
Truth be told, I've tried my best.
But somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer.”

---

Although Sam’s tan jacket was thick, it didn’t protect him from onslaught of water falling from the sky. Tremors ran up and down his spine, shaking his lengthy frame. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, locked in a fisted position. They had gone completely numb, each muscle frozen and immovable. He wouldn’t be surprised if his lips were tinged blue, at the rate he was going. God, he just wanted to go back inside and let the warmth of the heater lull him into a painless sleep. Usually he wasn’t so fussy, but the headache he had woken up with hadn’t gone away.

Dean looked at Sam, worry evident in his eyes when he saw how worn and exhausted he looked. He was shaking like a cat getting read to take a bath, his shoulders rounded towards the thoroughly soaked sidewalk. They hadn’t bothered to drive, since each one of the houses that they had to pay a visit to were within close proximity of each other. Dean now wished that they had, his anxiety only growing stronger when he noticed their pace steadily slow. He knew Sam hadn’t injured himself, so he reluctantly gave up with his ministrations and just decided to ask the question that was biting at his throat.

“Sam, you okay?” Dean slowed his steps and turned to face Sam, making it more difficult for him to lie about his condition.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Sam tried to keep his shivers to a minimum, his jaw clenched shut with the effort.

“Uh, maybe it’s because you look like you’re going into shock. I don’t know, might be something else.” Dean placed his finger against his chin and angled his eyes upwards towards the furious heavens, pretending to think.

“I’m fine,” Sam ground out, aiming to discontinue the conversation. He was sick of all the questions, and really wasn‘t in the sharing sort of mood. He started to walk away, covering his mouth to stifle a cough when he was a few feet away. Dean didn’t hear him, or he didn’t show that he did.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Dean called out, jogging up to Sam. He had never seen Sam so irritable, and hoped that it would come to an end.

---

Sam and Dean visited four houses, only to confirm that all of the victims were innocent. The parents were still torn up, and unable to form coherent sentences between the nose blowing and tears. Even it was a year or two years later, they were still overwhelmingly sensitive. Their sadness was normal and typical, heartbreaking all the same. Sam didn't look down upon them and curse their lack of helpful information, even if it did render their trip useless and force them to research more at the local library.

They drove, since Dean didn’t want Sam to be out in the rain any longer. There, they pulled out old newspaper articles.

Each deceased man had gone to a local bar before they were murdered, locals claiming that they hadn’t been their exuberant selves. The bodies were found in a warehouse just a block away, just at different times. Unfortunately for the hunters, all of the deaths were sporadic, holding no specific pattern. That was only going to make their job harder in the end, not knowing when the killer would make another appearance.

They stayed at the library for a few hours, leaving when they couldn’t find anything new. Sam still felt like crap by the time they got back to the motel, but he wasn’t going to let that interfere with their plans for the night. They were taking a trip to the infamous bar, then starting up the actual hunt.

---

The stench of beer filtered through Sam and Dean’s nostrils right as they walked into Wilson’s, their eyes catching sight of many drunk individuals. Sam rolled his eyes, as Dean grinned from cheek to cheek. They moved in unity, strides even and well matched. Only a few stools were open, and they took them both. Dean slapped his hand against the counter to get a bartenders attention, which wasn’t a hot female that he could scan from head to toe. Oh, c’mon, this guy looks like Raggedy Anne’s best friend. He tried to hide his disgust as he ordered a bottle of beer. Sam decided against drinking for the night, just firing questions at the red headed worker.

“I heard that Gage Newton passed through here, did you get the chance to talk to him?” Sam was straight forward, and didn’t care what people thought of him anymore.

The bartender shot Sam a peculiar look, still managing to speak through his confusion, “Yeah, yeah I did. Kid was real down on himself, rambling about how he wronged his girlfriend or something like that.”

Sam became more interested, leaning forward against the granite top counter. “Wronged his girlfriend, you mean cheated on her?”

“That’s what I mean, why you askin’ anyway? You a cop?”

“I went to school with him, everyone’s been wondering what happened.” The bartender went to go serve other customers, leaving Sam in the dust. He had something to work with now, something that he could build off of. Sam gently tapped Dean’s shoulder, signaling that they should leave so they could talk.

Sam hadn’t interrupted anything, since Dean hadn’t been talking to any girls. They paved a path through the crowd, the fresh air outside coming as a huge relief. Sam held back a cough, which he had been doing quite often when he was in his brothers company. He had constructed a façade, to hide how he was getting sick. He had tried to tell himself that he wasn’t, but he couldn’t anymore, not when he felt fatigued and tired every waking moment.

“Turns out, our friend Gage did have some dirt on his sleeve. He cheated on his girlfriend, and I’m guessing that they got into an argument and that’s why he was moping.” He needed to learn sign language, because his words were like swords, slicing at his already painfully sore throat.

“Hot damn, guess we should get going then.” Dean felt accomplished, in turn, transforming him into an overly enthusiastic child. He ran up to the Impala and opened her trunk, pulling out some rock salt rounds and two shotguns. Dean handed one gun to his brother as he silently thanked the clouds for not releasing anymore rain on them. Normally, they would’ve been more cautious about pulling weapons out for public display, but there was no public to display the weapons to.

They began to jog up the street, Sam slightly lagging behind. He was calling on energy reserves he didn’t have, which only made him struggle more to keep up. Dean didn’t stop once, too determined and focused to reach the warehouse. Soon, the decrepit building came into view, Sam finishing the race in second place.

“Ready?” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to answer, already opening the barely hinged door.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Sam said, in between his gasps for air. He didn’t want to stress Dean out, but it was getting more difficult to hide how under the weather he really was.

Sam and Dean crept through the emptiness, ready to aim and fire if they needed to. Sam wanted to hold his chest, because he felt like his lungs were coming apart at the seams. He kept his cries of agony to himself, just wanting to get the job done without any mistakes or mishaps. His legs felt too weak and unsteady to go onward, though, and his vision started to waver. He was drowning in his own misery, unable to speak up. Sam didn’t expect for it all to assault him in one wave, but it did, and it was relentless. Darkness began to cloud the edges of his brain, succumbing him to unconsciousness.

“Come out come out wherever you are,” Dean yelled into the darkness, hearing a loud thump come from behind him. He cautiously rotated on his heel, only to see his brother fallen on the ground in one boneless heap. The spirit appeared right above Sam‘s prone form, “get away from him, you bitch!” Dean shot a round into the spirit, watching as she dispersed. He rushed to Sam’s aid, unease clenching his pounding heart.

He pressed his index finger against Sam’s neck, searching for a pulse. “Thank you, thank you,” Dean stated when he felt a slow and steady bump beneath his finger. The temperature of Sam’s skin didn’t come as a surprise to Dean, and neither did Sam‘s lie. I’m fine, right. Dean put his arms around Sam‘s waist and shoulders, lifting him off of the dirty ground. He supported the weight, which he refused to refer to as dead. He couldn't stand associating that word with his brother, even if it was just to describe how heavy the kid was.

Dean rushed to get back outside, but the spirit had other plans for them. All possible exits were firmly closed by an invisible force, trapping them inside. “Not now. Please, not now.“ Dean wasn’t the praying type, but now, it seemed like it was time to start. He needed to take care of Sam, and a warehouse wasn’t the place to do it.

---

The lyrics on the top are Heaven by Sarah McLachlan.

And he's down for the count!

Very nice job of describing the slowly increasing signs of the virus rampaging through Sam's system. And now Dean's stuck in the warehouse with the ghost, and an unconscious and very sick brother.

Nice way to ramp up the tension.

And don't worry about the update, Kayla - it was well worth the wait. Sometimes real life has to get in the way, darn it!

Very good job....more please! :lmao

Jules :cloud9

Great chapter Kayla! :)

Just how much more trouble could the boys be in! :huh: Trapped in the warehouse with Sam getting sicker by the minute :o Not that he was fooling Dean with his insistence that he was fine when he certainly wasn't but there is no way he can deny how he is feeling now that he has collapsed! :rolleyes: And that damn spirit seems to have its eye on him as well! :thud

Sarah

Sick Cycle Carousel
By Kayla020

---

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, unfortunately.

Author's Note: This update took longer then expected too get out, and I’m not really happy with how it turned out. It seemed to be tougher for me to write, no clue why. I also went on vacation for four days, so, factor that in! Please don’t let my slowness put you off! Keep the reviews coming, they really are my motivation.

---

“I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing.
With a broken heart, that's still beating.
In the pain, is there healing?
In your name, I find meaning.”

---

Dean was freaking out, to say the least. He had tapped Sam’s cheek many times to try and elicit a response, but didn’t even get as much as a twitch. It had been a total of five minutes since he had collapsed, but it felt like years to the distressed older brother. He hadn’t been desensitized to seeing Sam in pain, and his suffering only ripped him to shreds. The worst part was, he couldn’t do anything about it. Dean had no medical supplies at hand, and nothing to cool Sam down. The kid was a furnace, his skin emanating more heat than any well functioning human should. His cheeks were flushed, sweat dotting his brows.

Sam looked peaceful and serene, his forehead cleared of all creases. He wasn’t moving, though, and that was what bothered Dean. From the day Sam was born, he was constantly fidgeting. He would always wake up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, and was just to hyper to sit still and relax during the day. Sam was a ball of energy, and lit up the room when he walked in. He was someone who would cheer you up with out even trying, with absolutely no effort. Dean admired him, and that went without saying.

Looking at him at him so pale and lifeless, Dean couldn’t help but stress. He kept himself on high alert, still paying close attention to his brother. He refused to set him on the ground, knowing that the ghost wanted Sam to become her next victim. His eyes ricocheted back and forth in their sockets, trying to cover all of the space in the warehouse. He was only one person, and he couldn’t do it by himself. Dean was still going to try, bent on keeping Sam safe.

It would have been easier if he had a bag of salt on hand, then, he could draw a protective circle around them both. Dean hadn’t come as prepared as he thought he had, and that made him feel even more guilty. Guilty for not catching onto Sam’s lies sooner, and guilty for not being able to give him the help he needed. He mentally apologized to his younger sibling, pulling him closer to his own body.

Cackling disrupted the quietness, the spirit appearing right before the two men. Is she stupid? I would’ve snuck up from behind. Dean quickly listed off her physical appearance descriptions in his head, including her dark hair and the blood soaked white shirt. He lifted his gun to shoot several rounds, then lunged for the door. He didn’t have a plan, but what his capricious idea worked. Dean was able to distract the spirit from keeping her hold on the door, giving him enough time to get outside.

The weight was uneven when he launched himself through the open door, but he was able to catch his balance.

Sam started to sink towards the ground, his chin connecting with his chest. He was unable to control his own limbs, still swimming through blissful unconsciousness. Dean lifted him back up easily, and carried him all the way back to the Impala. He didn’t complain once, even if his shoulders ached.

---

Medical supplies were strewn across every flat surface in the motel room within seconds after their arrival. Dean was gathering wet towels in the bathroom, not happy with Sam’s temperature of 101. 2. He was on edge, hands shaking as he turned on the faucet. There was a tingling sensation in his gut that told him he couldn’t fix the damage, and that terrified him. The feeling plagued his mind, even as he walked out into the main room with cold cloths in hand.

He began to droop towels over Sam’s forehead and chest, which was now bare. Dean wanted to keep Sam’s temperature from rising any further, and the extra layers of clothing wouldn’t help. He watched Sam’s face contort, a low groan emitted from his lips. “Wake up, Sammy.” Sam’s eyes slowly flickered open, their appearance both glazed and glassy. He began to search the room, his head tossing from side to side.

“Deeean..” Sam blinked lazily, his speech slurred. It was more of a question then a statement. He needed his brothers comfort, and needed to know that he was beside him. Dean was his guide, and without him, he was blind.

“Right here, Sammy, right here.” Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, forgetting about the ‘chick flick’ moment rule. Sam instantly relaxed, and silently fell back to sleep after a mumbled goodnight.

“Goodnight, Sammy.” Dean brushed the chestnut hair out of Sam’s face, having been slicked down due to his excessive sweating. He was going to keep watch all night, not letting Sam out of his sight.

---

Dean applied new towels after every hour, sometimes sooner. He wasn’t going to play with his brothers health like it was a game of Russian roulette. His eyes were glued on Sam’s prone form, waiting to see him open his gentle hazel eyes again. He had dragged a chair over to the bed, where he sat stationary, like an eagle watching after its newborn. Dean refused to look away, because that would require taking Sam out of his line of sight.

Reluctantly, he started to fall asleep, but was jolted back to awareness by the rustling of sheets. He stood up and ran to Sam’s side, studying the pained expression on his face. Why doesn’t he ever get a break, why can’t it be me? Dean placed his hand on Sam’s cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing gesture. Sam unconsciously turned towards Dean’s touch, in turn, causing Dean to smile.

He thought that the tossing and turning would stop, but he was wrong. Sam’s legs started to kick under the covers, his lids snapping open right after. His chest was heaving, as if there were an air pump beneath the flesh and muscle tissue.

“Hurs’..Deaaaan,” he ground out, tears ready to parade down his pallid cheeks.

“What hurts, Sammy? Talk to me, kiddo.” Dean wanted to remain calm, but he couldn’t find the energy to do so. He couldn’t build up those brick barriers to keep in the flood of emotions threatening to release.

“Don’ feel goo’..” Sam tried to reach for the trashcan, but it was already on his lap. Thank you, big brother. He gagged, all of his stomachs contents expelled into the bin. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, back contracting and relaxing with each heave. When it was finally over, he fell back against his pillows, his breaths coming in heavy pants. He wasn’t getting better, only worse.

---

The lyrics on the top are Broken by Lifehouse.

Can't understand why you are not happy with that chapter Kayla it is awesome, really well written and well thought out! :clap

Great that Dean shooting the spirit managed to release her hold on the door, enabling him to get himself and Sammy out of the warehouse! :)

Not good though that Sam seems to be getting worse instead of better, and now is throwing up, poor Dean is desperately worried for his little brother! :(

Loved that update, you got their characters spot on, really enjoying this intriguing story! :)

Hope you had a great Christmas and that 2008 is a fantastic year for you :)

Sarah

I really loved those two lines. Something about your describing Sam's hair as chestnut really appealed to my sense of aesthetics - call me crazy ( I know Sarah will....but she knows me well, so that doesn't count...)

And Dean watching over Sam like an eagle over its newborn - so very true on so many levels. A parent watching over his sick kid.

That was a very wonderfully wrought chapter. I loved the descriptions, and I could really feel for Sam, especially since I have the flu myself at the moment. Not throwing up like poor Sammy, but still feeling miserable, as it's also summer in this part of the world, and there's nothing worse than a summer cold.

Kayla, this was very well done. You should be proud of it.

Hmm - suppose when the fever has run its course, they still have to go back and finish off the ghost. But I hope they stay away from that diner.... :blink:

Awesome

Jules :cloud9

Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I needed those confidence boosters! :) I'm glad the story is still enjoyable!

Jules, I hope you get over your flu soon! Those are never fun! :(

No way would I ever call you crazy Jules, you are a fantastic and wonderful friend and a great author, who also knows awesome writing when she sees it! :) I totally agree with what you said about Kayla using the word chestnut when describing Sam's hair! :)

Have confidence in yourself Kayla your writing is amazing and way beyond your years, you have a great talent! :)

Sarah

You called me crazy when I posted two updates in one week, Sarah..... :P

*ducks swipe by wooden spoon* love ya, sis :hug:

And I agree with you on Kayla's writing skills - just awesome.

Jules :cloud9

I wish I could post two updates in one week! I tend to over think, a lot. :P

I'm not good with the whole confidence thing, but, that means so much to me that you would say that. I think that, right there, gave me a boost. :hug I'll take it to heart! :)

Worrying you actually remember everything I say Jules, I don't recall that particular occasion! :rotfl I wouldn't have meant you were crazy but being crazy for posting twice in one week when you had agreed to Friday's only! :wacko: Rapidly digs self out of big hole! :rolleyes:

Talking of Friday's, it is Friday in Australia so have you updated 'Broken Images' yet! :hide :rotfl

Sorry for hijacking your thread Kayla! :)

Sarah

Oh, not at all! It makes me look way more popular. Totally kidding. :P

this is a great story. you are a great writer-descriptive, well-thought and true. the lyrics at the beginning are great. :cheer loved it plz update soon... Thanks Jules for hooking me on this story :D Great now I am hooked on three great stories all at once.

Great story Kayla I haven't been reading a lot of fics lately but when Jules recommended it I had to check it out. I'm glad she did it has been really enjoyable. But man when you described the thing about the burger and the guy sneezing on it...that made me want to be sick. Talk about disgusting...poor Sam. Now he is really sick and Dean is worried sick about him. And there is the whole hunt that still has to be dealt with. Hmm...it is going to be a rough ride for the Winchesters can't wait to find out what happens next.


*Tosses Sarah a rope* Man you are calling Jules crazy for updating twice in one week...that isn't nice I'm trying to get another one before next Friday since she left it at a not nice place...sheesh...now I'll need to add double the Dean pics to my bribe...there goes my storage bin. LOL.

I am not calling Jules crazy Candace, honest! And as for Jules updating once a week, it is something we came up with to keep her as stress free as possible, as work/real life have a habit of throwing a curve ball when least expected, so this way if it does (and fingers crossed it doesn't) Jules doesn't have put pressure on herself to write a chapter, there should already be one in the bank! :)

And what did you want me to do with the rope anyway, hang myself with it! :rolleyes: :jest or maybe tie Jules up :unsure: :unsure: :unsure: :jest :jest

Sarah

Sarah why would I want you to hang yourself that is so dumb...and as for tying Jules up...that isn't very nice. It was to help you out of the hole you dug yourself into. LOL. When I read that I choked...sheesh what are you trying to do...kill me? LOL. And I understand about the stresses of life and everything...it gets hard so as always I'll be waiting somewhat patiently...LOL. Ok I'm done now.

*sigh*

Here, Kayla,

Have some Sammy/Jared pics while we wait for the great debate to finish.... :lol:

Oh, and it's not a bribe for an early update, honest..... :rolleyes:






Jules :cloud9

I almost have a page done! I had to start working on some of my finals, so, that slowed down the process a bit!
It should be here sometime soon! :D

Could Jared get any cuter? :wub: Aw, the broken arm! Sometimes I think he should be wrapped up in bubble wrap. :lol:

LOL bubble wrap!!! to cute

Ya got a great story here

cant wait for an update

doing a great job :clap



:skip

:clap Great Story :clap

So when are we getting more :P

I see that Mum has gone picture crazy :D

And do I even want to know why Candace and Sarah are going on about a rope and you mum <_< probably not :lol:

Phew, glad the rope was only to help me Candace! That is a relief! :rotfl Just as an apology this is for you, and for Jules too, of course!



And just to balance it out! :)



No pressure Kayla, just update when you have time!

Sarah

Apology accepted although I don't know what you're apologizing for...oh well...pictures are always nice...*goes back to staring at yummy pics*...:)

Hi kalya
Jules recomended your stroy and im glad she did. Great little story you got going here, im a huge sammy fan so im loving sick sam and big bro in action. I am also a fan of stories that are about things either then demons will be watching for updates for sure, congrads on writting your first story it is well done your doing a great job.

Good news! I'm almost done with the update! :) You've all been so patient, and I thank you for that!
Finals are giving me a tough time!

I havent been on fanfics for a little while and just found this story, its awesome and I cant wait for more, absolutely love it Kayla :) :) :)

( PANT, GASP...OK LIGHTS CIGGY) I'M HEREEEEEEEEE!!!! OK MY SIS JULES TOLD ME BOUT THIS STORY....UR DOING FANTASTIC GIRL, DON'T DOUBT URSELF
NOW...MY SAMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO...OK HURT HIM :rotfl

ALREADY PUT THIS ON ALERT GIRL...KEEP IT UP


SARAH SIS....THOSE PICS GUHHHHHHHHH.....CRAP SHOWER TIME!!!! :drool2



LUVS
LORRIE :evil :fire :drink

Sick Cycle Carousel
By Kayla020

---

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, unfortunately.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! They really do help me out so much more than I let on. Please keep them coming! I just recently had finals, and was a little too stressed out to write. I’m back now, though. Don’t let my long absence put you off! This chapter is short, but, I felt it was a logical ending for it!

---

“I hurt myself today to see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hold, the old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything.”

---

There was a raging war being fought inside of Sam’s body, his immune system losing miserably to a puissant virus. Spears of bacteria were thrown into his lungs, heavily affecting the way he breathed. Claws scraped and tore at his dry throat, irritating it more than it already was. He was weakening, not able to grab onto the safety device his brother had thrown out to him. Waves of sickness repeatedly washed over him, pushing him farther away from the shore. Sam was starting to sink under the surface, clouds of darkness shrouding his vision.

“Sammy, stay awake. Don’t do this, man,” Dean begged, giving Sam a light shake. He knew that there was something else wrong with his brother, something that he couldn’t fix. Dean wasn’t a superhero, despite what Sam had told him when he was a little kid. He always seemed to mess up in some way, shape, or form. He couldn’t even keep Sam from getting sick, and that was what agitated him the most.

Sam wasn’t someone who would complain about a few aches, he was tough. He never got as much credit as he deserved. He had been through so much, and still managed to keep going. Sam kept himself together, each fragmented piece of his heart glued in place. His soul was beaten and battered, but he still had the power to survive.

Circumstances had changed, and now he felt like he was knocking on deaths uncordial door. Sam’s pulse was erratic and out of control. It acted as if it were on a high speed chase, trying to pursue the bacteria that had created all of the chaos. His skin glistened like a thousand tiny diamonds, the shimmer noticeable even without much light. His appearance resembled the way he felt, worn.

Dean’s fear stricken voice finally infiltrated Sam’s subconscious, causing him to wake. His unfocused eyes silently pleaded for help and relief from all of the hurt. He was a lost man, his face holding a look of confusion. Sam didn’t know where he was, and who was with him. He mind was a clean slate, all memories lost under the veil of disorientation.

“...Dad?” Sam croaked, as if he actually believed that their father was still alive and kicking. Dean sprung into action right after he heard Sam’s meek voice. He wrapped his arms around his siblings torso tenderly, sitting him up. He was dragging him to the hospital, and that was final. His criminal record wasn’t clean and he was taking a huge risk, but he needed to get Sam on the road to recovery. He’d do anything for Sam, anything in the entire world, and if it meant getting arrested, so be it.

They had been like two peas in a pod ever since they were young, sticking to each other like glue. The bond had never faltered or snapped apart, staying strong even during the worst of times. One of those times happened to be now, with Sam suffering an overpowering illness that could only be cured with the help of some local medics.

---

Speed limits didn’t exist, not when a life was in the balance. Dean’s face became the home of sheer determination, the neighborhood nothing more than a cluster of unstable feelings. He drove his vehicle as if it were racecar, pressing down on the accelerator, almost shoving his foot through the floor. His leg was close to cramping up, but he didn’t stop. He would stop for nothing but an illuminated sign that read emergency room.

Approximately five minutes later, the car came to a screeching halt in front of two automatic opening doors. He hurriedly jumped out of the car and ran into the building. It was a wonder that he didn’t do track in high school, because he got his feet were moving.

“My brother, he needs help. Please.” He was barely able to string a sentence together, his words chopped into pieces. He watched with desolate eyes as doctors raced out towards the black car with a stretcher. Sam was getting tended to, but that didn’t make him happy. It just outlined how severely he had screwed up. His baby brother needed professional attention, and that didn’t sit well with him.

He refocused his attention to the body being wheeled through the door, his Sammy’s body. Dean dazedly tried to follow, but was stopped midway. He tried to fight off the strong hands that kept him from going any further, but his muscles just wouldn’t cooperate. Dean couldn’t make sense of anything, especially with everything pummeling into him at once. He didn’t get any sleep, Sam was unhealthy, and the ghost was still on a killing spree.

“No, Sammy. Let me go see Sammy, please.” Dean made another attempt to push through the brick wall of white coats, but he couldn’t do it. His knees buckled and his legs gave out, doctors breaking his fall. Sam’s name lingered on his lips as he welcomed bittersweet darkness. He had lit the wicker rope of survival on both ends, and had gotten burned in the process.

---

The lyrics on the top are Hurt by Johnny Cash.

:cheer :cheer THAT WAS FANTASTIC....AND HEY IT WASN'T SHORT!!! MY POOR BABY ALL SICK...GOOD THING I'M THERE W MY NURSES UNIFORM ON :D , CRAP DEAN WENT DOWN FOR THE COUNT...OK JULES GIVE HIM CPR...I KNOW..I KNOW...U WOULD SOOOOOO HATE TO DO THAT BUT HE NEEDS U :D , I LUV THE WAY U DESCRIBED THE ILLNESS, DEAN'S WORRY AND NOT EVEN LETTING WANTED BY THE FEDS KEEPING HIM FROM TAKING SAM TO THE HOSPITAL...GIRL U HAVE TALENT...STAY W IT :D
SARAH SIS, I MIGHT NEED SOME HELP W SAM, GET THE RAGS....FORGET THEM, LETS GET HIM IN THE TUB TO COOL HIM OFF...FOR MEDICAL REASONS ALONE MIND U...


OH I LUV UR BANNERKAYLA :D

LUVS
LORRIE :evil :fire :woohoo

Thank you so much, Lorrie! :D That really did put a smile on my face, you saying I have talent! I appreciate it! :)
Aw, I love your banner, too!

HEY U DO HAVE TALENT GIRL...U KNOW I JUST NOTICED I HAD THIS ON ALERT ON FFNET :rotfl BUT U DON'T NEED ME TO TELL U BOUT UR TALENT, U HAVE ALOT OF VIEWERS

AWWWW THANXS BOUT MY BANNER :D MY BUNNIES R ALLLLLLL OVER THE PLACE HERE....LONG STORY UNLESS U READ THE FICS :rotfl FOR SOME REASON PPL THINK I GET INTO TROUBLE...DON'T KNOW Y



LUVS
LORRIE :evil :fire :drink