Disclaimer: Still don't own.
I actually have an update for you all. Sorry this took so long. I don't really have an excuse, other than school and real life. Thanks for sticking with me.
If you reviewed and I never go the chance to answer, I'm sorry. I appreciate everyone.
There was nothing Dean Winchester hated more than being treated like an invalid, and this was the beginning of the second day that he was stuck in the infirmary.
He knew that Gray and Sam meant well, he did, but he never did well with too much time on his hands and there was nothing to do here. His friend didn't make him lay in bed all day, but he wasn't allowed to go further than the front porch. He threatened to just leave, but Gray had the upper hand and told him that he would suspend him from all official duties, because he needed to make sure the kids were safe. That had seriously pissed him off, that Gray would do that do him. He'd never put the kids in danger.
So if he wanted to keep his job, he had to be a good little boy. He stayed put, ate the meals Gray bought and took his injections, all six of them.
Yes, six. Gray felt that Dean would do better if he spread his injections out more throughout the day. Apparently, it was supposed to give him greater flexibility with when, how much and what he ate. Treatments sure had changed since he was 16, and he almost wished he could go back to that, but what could he do?
His campers came by to visit him frequently, and Dean did appreciate that. Jill, the counsellor for the 10 year old girls, came by to see him as well. She seemed quite concerned about his welfare, and Dean had had a few suggestions on how she could make him feel better. It had worked when she slipped him a copy of her schedule of off days. So it did give Dean something to look forward to, if he ever got out of here.
He was leaving tomorrow though. He didn't care if he got fired, enough was enough, because if he didn't get something else to focus on, he was going to hit someone, and most likely that person's name began with an S. Ever since he'd had that argument with Sammy, his mind kept drifting to a certain name on his cell phone.
Damn it! He was going to kill Sammy. Why the hell couldn't he have just left it alone? Dean had convinced himself that it was for the best, but there were so many times he had wanted to call, especially after his dad had started ditching him. There were cold, lonely nights in the Impala, when he had no money for a hotel room, that he had just wanted to drive to Bobby's and sleep in a warm, soft bed, and eat a meal that hadn't been nuked in a convenience store microwave. Mostly, he missed that Bobby could always make him feel important and needed, even if his own family didn't feel that way.
He wasn't used to feeling this insecure and he didn't like it, but the whole diabetes thing was playing on his mind. He knew how hard it had been to regulate when he was 16, but now it was a whole different ballgame. He couldn't stay in one spot and he had a ghost to put down. How the hell was he going to do that when he couldn't even sleep through the night without a problem?
No matter what, Bobby had always made him feel that everything would be okay. He wished desperately that he could hear his voice. God, just how sad and pathetic was he?
Great, he had wanted to hear Bobby's voice so badly he had convinced himself he was. Maybe he should just ask Gray to transfer his ass to the nearest psych ward. He clearly needed it.
"Dean," the voice said again, this time more forceful.
Reluctantly, Dean turned his head toward the door, and was startled to see a man that looked just like Bobby standing in the doorway, right down to the greasy trucker hat and beard. He had really lost it now. The hallucinations were starting.
"You just gonna stare, or are you gonna say hello, ya idjit," Bobby grunted, his tone full of affection.
"Bobby," Dean said hesitantly. So now he was talking to said hallucination.
"Yeah, it's good to see you." Bobby took a few tentative steps toward his wayward nephew. He was still unsure of how he would be received.
"You too," Dean replied genuinely, a huge Crest commercial grin suddenly adorned his face, as he allowed himself to believe that Bobby was really standing there.
Bobby was just glad that Dean hadn't told him to get lost. The whole way here, he had planned what he was going to say to the young man. He had this whole big speech planned, with how sorry he was about the miscommunication, and how proud he was about what Dean had done, but all that flew out of his head the minute he sat on the edge of the cot were Dean was lying. The next thing he knew, they had both reached out and wrapped their arms around the other.
Okay, Dean decided that maybe he would let Sam live, but he still owned him a serious beat down.
When they let go, neither man said anything, for which both was grateful, but Dean did have one thing he needed to address.
"Bobby, about the amulet..."
That was as far as Bobby would let him get. "I didn't get upset when you declined to wear it when I first got it for you, so I would never be mad for what you did with it now. It's yours to do with as you see fit. That's all we're going to say about it." He dropped the part about how proud he was of what Dean had done; because he had a feeling the young man was sick of hearing it.
"Thanks Bobby," Dean said sincerely.
"Now, I believe we have a ghost to get rid of," Bobby said, effectively changing the subject.
"We should wait for Sam. He's got a break in an hour. He got access to Gray's computer last night, so I think he has some stuff as well."
"Okay," Bobby agreed. "Where's Gray?" Bobby asked. It had been years since he had seen the young man.
"He'll be here shortly. It's almost time for my insulin shot."
"It'll be good to see him," Bobby admitted and Dean couldn't help the small flair of jealously that welled up in him. Yup, pathetic didn't even begin to describe him.
Bobby went to put his notes on the little table by Dean's cot. "What's this?" he asked curiously, holding up a bunch of papers.
"Nothing," Dean said, suddenly embarrassed. A red flush started climbing up his cheeks as he tried to grab the papers out of his friend's hand. If Bobby realized what they were, he would never hear the end of it.
The statement 'I must not hide symptoms' was scrawled over and over in Dean's neat handwriting. "Are you writing lines?" Bobby asked incredulously.
"Gimme," Dean said and made a grab for them. "It's a cabin rule, okay," he huffed. "I make my campers do it, if I catch them. They insisted that it was only fair that I did it too."
Bobby couldn't hide his laughter.
The hilarity was short-lived however, because Dr. Manning, who had been at the desk, took a phone call, and then all of a sudden he grabbed his med-kit and took off out the door.
Bobby and Dean's eyes met, and both had an uneasy feeling. Was it the ghost or just an accident? Neither would have laid money on it being a simple accident. "The Ghost," they said in unison.
As worried as he was about the return of Dean's diabetes, the mechanic knew they both needed to check this out. He handed Dean his shoes and both of them took off a few minutes after the doctor.
Gray wished that he could say that he had been having a good day, but that would be a lie. Patrick had started to assign more and more administrative duties to him. While he understood that it had to be done, he missed spending time with the campers.
Then there was the ongoing problem that he and Kim faced over Zack's health. He was perfectly healthy, sure, but that was the problem. People were starting to notice.
They couldn't send Zack to his previous daycare. How did they explain to the teacher that he didn't need handfuls of enzyme pills to digest his food anymore, or why his percussion therapy was no longer needed? The five year old had pitched a fit because he didn't want to leave his friends.
How long were their close friends and family, who were all commenting on just how well Zack was doing, going to buy 'he's having a really good day?'
What about Zack's check up next week? What were they going to tell the doctor when he discovered that his boy's lungs were completely clear?
Grateful for the break from his thoughts and paperwork, Gray looked up to find Sam standing in his office. "Bad time?" Sam inquired.
"No, perfect timing actually," Gray said as he pushed everything to the side. "There was something I need to talk to you about."
"Dean's okay, isn't he?" Sam asked worriedly.
"He's doing okay. His numbers are still a little sporadic, but nothing outside of what you would expect in a new diabetic, which is how I'm treating him."
"How long are you keeping him?" Sam wondered. He knew how much Dean hated being cooped up.
"Not much longer. I'm letting him go after supper tonight. I'm sure he's been there long enough to learn his lesson. Besides, we have the big camp bonfire tonight and I want to use it as blackmail to get him to play guitar for us tonight."
"Dean doesn't play guitar," Sam said in confusion.
"Didn't he learn on that job you guys did? Where was it again...?" Gray paused trying to think of the place. Dean had spent part of the last couple of days telling him about some of the jobs he, Sam and their dad had done. "Nashville. Ghost or something at the Grand Ole Opry."
"It must have been when I was at Stanford." Sam wanted details about that one, but unfortunately now wasn't the time. Bobby had called him and had said that he had gotten in, so Sam figured he had gone straight to the medical cabin, and Gray needed to know. "You said you had something to talk to me about?"
That was when Gray filled him in on everything that had been going on with Zack, but Sam really didn't have too much advice for him, other than moving and starting over in a town where no one knew them. Gray didn't want to and he knew Kim didn't either. They had their friends and family and their professional reputations, and it would be tough to start over, but neither could see any other option.
"There's something else, I was wondering if I could ask you, Sam. It's kind of personal but..."
"It's okay. With what we told you over the last few days, I don't think anything's personal anymore."
"This might be, and I know that I have no right to ask…"
'You're starting to worry me," Sam said honestly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Gray said apologetically. He wasn't really sure how to phrase his question, though. "Well, the other night, Dean was having a nightmare, and he mentioned a couple of troubling things. I know that his sugar levels could have had something to do with that, but I trust my instincts and I think it was more. Then there was that time you guys were leaving South Dakota, and Dean had that bruise on his cheek. He said something fell on him, but I know what an injury from a fist looks like and..."
"Gray," Sam said holding up his hand to stop him. "Thanks for looking out for Dean. God knows he doesn't. No, dad never hit us," Sam confirmed. "Except for that one time. Dad was hard on us, but no, I promise he wasn't physically abusive."
"I noticed you said physically," Gray pointed out.
Sam felt himself getting defensive, even though he knew that Gray wasn't just being nosy. He genuinely cared about both of them, but his father was a touchy subject. "What's this, psych 101? Let it go. Dad loved us." Sam could admit that.
"I..." That was as far as Gray got when the one of his staff ran past him, telling him they needed him at the stables immediately as there had been an accident.
It was the only way to describe the scene before them. Adults were trying to calm frightened children. One little boy was holding his arm and hollering in pain, and if Gray had to guess, he would say it was dislocated. Another counsellor was carrying a little girl, whose ankle looked swollen and was probably broken. Another was tending to several kids with cuts and bruises.
There didn't seem to be any critical injuries, but by far the worst problem was the horse. The harness had broken when the wagon tipped over and the Bay was running wild and frightened. The stable hands were trying to catch the wayward animal, but they didn't seem to be having much luck.
Sam and Gray were a little worried when they saw Dean and Bobby approach, but neither could really question it. They needed all the help they could get.
"I'll go help with the horse," Dean tried to offer.
"No way," Sam said firmly. "You're better at first aid then me. I'll go. Jess was a big horse girl, I, um, have a bit of experience." It was a lie. Sam had no experience, but felt it would be better if Dean wasn't running around. He took off before anyone could stop him.
"Sammy," Dean called to his brother's back.
"Dean, I need you here," Gray said firmly with a restraining hand on Dean's arm. "Get all the kids into the tack room and take a head count, we need to make sure they are all accounted for."
The young hunter knew this wasn't a time to worry that he was being given an easy job. The kids were more important than his pride. He got right to work.
Dean realized just how lucky they were, when he was talking with Jill, who had been on scene when things had gone down. The group had returned from a hayride, and a counsellor was helping the kids out of the wagon when the horse, who Jill described as being "bomb proof", which meant that a bomb could go off next to the animal and it wouldn't blink an eye, had suddenly spooked at nothing. He had reared up and bolted, knocking the wagon and breaking the harness. There had only been two kids left in the wagon, the ones with the shoulder and ankle injury. Jill had a gash on her forehead that looked like it would need stitches, but she hadn't lost consciousness.
As they worked to keep the kids calm, Dean questioned Jill further. He knew that animals and children were sensitive to spirits and it would explain why the horse had spooked.
"Can weather cause the horse to bolt?" Dean asked. "If there was a strong breeze or something got knocked over and caused a loud noise?"
"Some horses are skittish," Jill admitted. "It was cold, but I didn't really feel a breeze and Oscar is about as calm as they come. Even the rocks falling didn't bother him."
"Rocks?" Dean questioned. It was looking more and more like the ghost was responsible. He had to talk to Sam and they needed to put that bitch down. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt.
"Yeah, we were out at the South Field and I heard something like two rocks being rubbed together. I know there's a rock wall not far from the trail. It's off limits to the campers and staff because sometimes rocks just let go."
Scratches and cold spots were signs of a malevolent spirit. All the pieces fit. Where was Sam? Dean was more worried than ever because instinct was telling him they were all still in danger. He had learned to always trust his instinct.
But he couldn't leave right way. The kids still needed to be taken care of. They were all still upset. He would just have to trust Bobby to keep Sam safe. "I need your help," Dean said to all the kids. "If you have any aches or pains, line up with Jill. If you're just scared and worried about your friends and counsellors, line up with me." Dean was shocked when all 10 kids ran over to him. "Gray, um, Dr. Remington is taking care of all of them. Now, it helps to talk about what scared you. I want you guys to take turns telling me what you saw. I don't care if you think you imagined anything. Tell me everything."
It was the ninth child that gave Dean the information he was looking for. A little boy named Joe swore he saw a man approach the horse, but said he looked away and when he looked back, there was nothing there.
With the kids under control, Dean said he would be right back. He wanted to check on his brother. He stepped outside and things seemed much calmer. The little boy and girl had been taken to the hospital, and one of the other counsellors said they had the horse cornered in the pasture
Dean knew they were in trouble as soon as he stepped out of the cabin. It was a warm day but he felt the temperature drop. Then he saw the horse rear up and bolt again, with Sam directly in its path. Dean saw his brother fall and not get up.
"SSSAAMMMMYYY!" He took off at a dead run toward the pasture.
"Dean, would you please sit down before you fall down," Bobby insisted.
"What's taking so long? It shouldn't be taking this long," Dean huffed as he walked up to double doors they had taken Sam behind.
The last hour had been like a nightmare for Dean. In his haste to get to Sam, the horse had almost taken Dean out as well. They also needed to get Sam to safety, but one the first rules of scene management during an accident was not to move the victim.
Fortunately, Gray's wife turned up shortly afterward and was able to give the horse a tranquilizer. The ambulance quickly had an unconscious Sam on a backboard and left for the hospital. Bobby had had to physically restrain Dean from trying to get into the ambulance with Sam. Gray had gone instead. Bobby and he felt it was better for there to be a doctor to treat Sam.
"Gray didn't think Sam had a life threatening injury," Bobby tried to reassure the distraught man.
"But he doesn't know," Dean countered. "He could have internal injuries or bleeding. What if he has a brain injury? What if he..."
Bobby could see his adopted nephew getting more worked up with every word. He got up and quickly closed the gap between him and Dean. "Stop," he said firmly. "Sam's going to be fine. Don't borrow trouble. Now, come over here and sit down," he ordered.
"You're not my father," Dean snapped. "Where the hell is Gray?" He eyed the door again.
Bobby didn't need to be psychic to know that Dean was about 5 seconds away from breaking through it. "I know you're worried about Sam, I am too, but I trust Gray and I know you do too. He wouldn't lie to you, Dean," Bobby said switching tactics and making his voice gentle. It seemed to work as Dean pulled his eyes away from the door and looked at Bobby.
"I just got him back," Dean admitted softly.
"I know, kid," Bobby said sincerely. "But we..."
"Bobby, Dean, Sam's gonna be fine," a voice said joining the group. They looked up and saw Gray walking toward them.
"Oh, thank God," Dean said sagging with relief. He slumped into a chair, dropped his head into his hands and took a couple of deep breaths, as if trying to gather his strength. His head popped up. "I want to see him," Dean insisted.
"He's not awake..."
"You said he was okay!" Dean fired back without giving him a chance to finish.
"He is," Gray said firmly and sat down beside his friend. Dean didn't look too good. "Honestly, I think I'm more worried about you right now. You feel okay?"
Dean's answer was predictable. "I'm fine. Sam's the one you need to worry about."
"Sam's not diabetic. When was the last time you ate?" Gray also knew that Dean missed his insulin shot in the chaos.
"I don't know," Dean said impatiently. "This isn't about me. What about Sam?"
Gray sighed in frustration. He didn't want anything to happen to the man he considered a brother and so far, Dean had shown no signs that he was willing to take his illness seriously.
Bobby recognized Gray's emotions. He had them too, but ordering Dean when your name wasn't John Winchester often had the opposite effect. He laid a hand on Gray's shoulder. "Tell us about Sam, let Dean see him, and we'll go to the cafeteria. Okay?" he compromised.
"Alright," Gray agreed it was the best he was going to get, but he did have one more condition he was going to insist on. He looked around for a nurse. "Miranda, can you grab me a glucose meter, test strip and lancet please.
"Right away, Dr. Remington," Miranda said pleasantly and disappeared into the medication room.
"I'm not a kid. Stop treating me like one. I can make up my own God damned mind," Dean insisted. "I don't want my blood sugar checked. I'll check it when I'm ready."
As much as Gray wanted to point out just how much Dean sounded like a kid, he refrained because it would only cause him to dig his heels in more. "Sam has a mild concussion and a broken ulna, the lower bone in his right arm. We need to take him to sur..."
"Why the hell does he need an operation?" Dean interrupted. "Where is my brother?"
"So help me, Bobby, if you tell me to calm down, I swear I will kick your ass."
"I'm telling you to calm down," Gray interjected authoritatively. "Listen, Dean. I get that you're worried about Sam." He reached out and laid a hand on Dean's arm. "This is a hospital and we have sick people here. Now, I told you Sam would be fine and I wouldn't lie about that. The reason for the surgery is that the ulna heals better when it's fused with a plate. It's a routine surgery."
"Here you go, Dr. Remington," Miranda said bringing the supplies Gray had asked for.
"Thanks," Gray said accepting them and passing them over to Dean. He knew better than to try and do if for his friend. "Here, you know what to do."
Dean accepted the stuff but made no move to use it. "After I see Sam."
"Fine," Gray snapped. There was not much point in arguing any more. "Go see Sam, but if you pass out in the hallway, I'm telling the staff to leave your ass there."
"You do that," Dean snapped back and got up from his chair. Neither Gray nor Bobby missed Dean's slight sway when he stood up, or the steadying hand that went to the wall as he walked toward the treatment area where Sam was.
"I don't remember him being like that," Gray said in frustration.
Bobby shrugged. "It's a different story when his dad's here. He's the one person Dean will listen to without argument."
"Maybe we should give Mr. Winchester a call. He needs to take care of himself. I don't want..."
"It's okay, son. I'll take him to the cafeteria. I'll throw him over my shoulder kicking and screaming if I have to. Does he need an injection?"
"Yeah. The dose would depend on what he eats. Have me paged when you get back, and I'll get it for him. Look after him, okay. Someone has to."
"You got it."
It was a half hour later and Bobby sat across the table from Dean. It had been a battle of wills the entire time. Dean had wanted to go up to the surgical floor and wait for Sam. At this point, even Bobby knew he on the verge of passing out. He put his foot down and literally dragged Dean to the cafeteria and then had to talk him out of eating only coffee and M&Ms. Right now, Dean was only picking at his clubhouse and fries.
Bobby's hand was in his pocket, fingering his cell phone and calculating the odds of getting a hold of John Winchester. He didn't think Gray's idea was a bad one.
By the time Bobby got back to camp, he was exhausted. With Sam out of commission, Bobby had been dubbed a temporary counsellor.
He was seriously ready to throttle Dean. It has been one battle after another. Getting Dean to leave for the night had left Bobby contemplating homicide. Dean needed his rest, and he wasn't going to get it sitting next to Sam's bed. Fortunately, Sam had regained consciousness. He was groggy, and in some pain, but he assured Dean he would be fine and tried to get his brother to leave. Finally, Gray put his foot down. He told Dean that he either had to leave, or he was getting admitted, and he was going to the regular floor. He wasn't staying in Sam's room. Dean's response would have made John Winchester blush, but he eventually agreed to leave with Bobby. Gray tried convincing Dean to spend the night at the medical cabin, as he wasn't happy with Dean's numbers and at how little he had eaten. Dean put his foot down and threatened to quit.
It was Bobby who came up with the compromise. The CIT from Dean's cabin was moved to Sam's and Bobby would spend the night to keep a close eye on the stubborn Winchester.
Dean objected, of course, but the kids fell in love with Bobby, much to the elder hunter's chagrin, and wanted him to stay. Bobby sat back and watched Dean talk to the kids about the events of the last couple of days, and address all their fears. It struck him that Dean would have made a great father if circumstances were different.
When Bobby awoke the next morning, Dean was gone. He had left a note to say that he had gone to the hospital. He cursed himself, as he hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he had been travelling all day, and if he had to guess, he would lay money on the fact that Dean hadn't stopped at the medical cabin for his needle.
He didn't want to do it, because Dean was finally speaking to him after what felt like an eternity, but he couldn't let the idjit risk his health. Taking a deep breath he picked up the phone and dialled.
This is John Winchester; I'm unavailable but if you need help, call my son Dean at 254-555-1536. He can help.
At least he got the machine. "Pick up your phone, you son of a bitch," Bobby growled as a greeting. "It's Dean that needs your help." Yup, Dean was going to kill him.
The senior hunter took his campers to the arts and crafts cabin and said he would be back later to pick them up. He then went to the admin cabin looking for Gray. He had to talk to him.
"You okay?" He asked in concern when he found the young physician behind his desk. Gray looked dishevelled. His tie was askew; he had dark circles under his eyes, and looked like he hadn't slept all night.
"Boy, don't even think of saying fine. Idjit!"
"Okay, everything's going to hell. How's that?"
"Everything. I had two parents call and want to pull their kids out of camp. I have state inspectors calling, wanting a full background check on my staff. I hired two people that don't technically exist and it won't matter that Dean's the most popular counsellor here. If it comes out that I knew they lied on their applications, I will lose my job and most likely my medical license. I'll be dealing with lawsuits out my ass, and that will be the end of the camp. If, by some miracle, I can keep the camp from closing, I won't be here to help run it next year, because more and more people are starting to notice how healthy Zack is. Plus, he's only five. He doesn't quite understand the need not to take his necklace off, or not tell people his CF is all gone. Not only that, but I need to start making arrangements to sell our house and cabin, when neither Kim nor I really want to move, but we don't see any other choice."
"First, son, you need to calm down. What's this inspector's name? I'll take care of that. Don't worry."
"Aaron Moore. How are you..."
"Don't worry about that," Bobby assured him. "Everybody's got skeletons in their closet. It's just a matter of finding them. You did nothing wrong. Sam and Dean only want to help."
"Dean was here this morning. He took my lap top. He wants to go over some stuff with Sam and see if they can find the ghost. I can't believe I just said that."
"How was he?"
"I don't know," Gray admitted. "I was on the phone with the inspector. I also need to speak with Patrick. We have to decide if we are closing the camp early. I can't take any more chances with the kids. I'm worried about him, Bobby, but I don't have the time to stand watch over his shoulder 24/7," he added a little defensively.
"Calm down, kid. I know that you got a lot on your plate. I'll do whatever I can to help."
"Thanks Bobby," Gray said sincerely.
The next two days were tense for everyone. Sam was released from the hospital, but with one arm strapped to his chest, he couldn't resume full duties. Gray still wasn't happy with Dean's numbers, or the way he was looking after himself, and Dean soon found himself reduced to second in command in his cabin. He wasn't happy with his friend. Gray had hoped it would be a wakeup call of sorts, but it only served to make him dig his heels in harder. It was actually the kids in his cabin that dragged Dean for his injections and to meal times. It was getting to the point where Gray was ready to pull him off staff.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't spend all his time worrying about his friend, there were greater concerns with the camp itself. Most of the kids expressed their opinion that they didn't want to go home. This was the one place they had to be kids, and Gray could understand their reluctance to leave. It was why he had started the camp in the first place. There were only a few people that knew that Gray was a major financial contributor. He had wanted it that way because he wanted to work with the kids, not handle paperwork. Yeah, that one worked out well. The guy he hired to run the camp had hired him as backup.
The kids saw the incident as an accident. The parents saw too many accidents and 7 more parents had called him to say they would be picking up their children. He already had 8 cancellations for the next session. Normally, he dealt with people desperately wanting their children to get a spot. He really didn't want to lose the camp.
But no matter what, he was going to, because he had to leave the camp he had started. Zack was more important than anything, but leaving was harder than he thought.
Bobby Singer had been a godsend. The inspector went away, and Gray really didn't want to know how he had managed that one. He kept Sam busy, and he fussed at Dean about looking after himself.
"I think I have something," Sam said looking up from the computer screen. He looked up and couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face when he saw his brother. Dean was sound asleep on the couch with Zack sprawled on his chest, drooling on Dean's shirt. Sam pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. It was good blackmail material.
He and Dean were spending their evening at Gray's babysitting. Neither was sure how they had been roped into it, but Gray and his wife went out to dinner to just forget about their troubles for awhile. Or, Dean entertained Zack while Sam used the computer.
He didn't want to wake his brother, he needed the rest, but he had no choice. They needed to take care of this ghost. If Sam was right, they were only a few days away from another incident. He decided that he would call Bobby and ask him to come over. He would let Dean sleep until Gray got home, but he needed to eat something and it was time for his needle. Sam wanted to get this particular battle over with.
"Dean, time to get up, man," Sam said softly, so he wouldn't wake Zack.
"What?" Dean asked in slight confusion. "Time izz it?"
"9:00. You need your in..."
"I just got up," Dean huffed defensively. It seemed every time he turned around, someone was in his face telling him to take a needle or eat. He was getting sick of it. He had hated it when he was younger and he hated it now. Why the hell couldn't they just leave him alone? He could take care of himself. He knew what was at stake if he didn't.
He managed to get up without waking his young charge. He got up, gently picked up Zack and went to tuck him in. Sam didn't miss the fact that when Dean left the room, he swayed slightly and put his hand to the wall for support. "Make sure to check your blood sugar," Sam reminded Dean. That was where Sam, Gray and Bobby seemed to be having the biggest battle lately. Dean was taking his meds, and eating, not enough for Gray's liking, but he rarely tested himself unless forced. With his new medication schedule, dosages were supposed to be adjusted based on his blood sugar level. With Dean not checking his levels as often as he should, it was making his disease harder to regulate.
"Yes mom," Dean sniped.
When his brother came out of the bathroom, Sam slipped in behind him. He found a used syringe in the container Gray had put there for him, but no lancets or test strips.
In the living room, Dean hid his own smile as he wrapped the used supplies for proper disposal back at camp. He knew what Sam was doing in the bathroom, and sometimes he felt the need to mess with his brother's head.
He knew he wasn't doing everything he was supposed to, and he hadn't been feeling the greatest lately, but there was a hunt and kids were getting hurt. Sometimes other things had to take priority.
It was just after midnight when Gray and Kim got home. The men retired to the back porch. They wanted beer, but were drinking diet soda. Alcohol played havoc with Dean's blood sugar and Gray wouldn't let him have any.
"I think I found the ghost," Sam informed the group. "There was a man named Alexander Cagney. He was a wealthy landowner."
"I've heard of him," Gray spoke up. "He wanted the land the camp was built on. He wanted to develop it into some resort."
"There was an environmental group that wanted to block his bid. They didn't want the area destroyed."
"We had problems with them too," Gray said. "They argued the kids would destroy the woods and the lake. I'm all for protecting the environment, but these guys were extreme. Is one of those guys sabotaging things?" Gray asked.
"I don't think so," Sam replied. "From what I gather, it's the ghost of Alexander. He had some city planner in his pocket and his bid was approved, far below market value."
"I knew we were competing with him," Gray replied. "But I never got notice that my bid was rejected."
"I'm guessing his bid never made it," Bobby guessed.
"He went missing the day the decision was made."
"Do I even want to know how you found this information?" Gray asked.
"No, you don't," Dean said. "Was he killed by this environmental group?"
"That seems to be the case. According to police reports, Mitchell Abraham, the leader of the eco group, was their prime suspect. They could never prove it. Cagney is buried at the cemetery just outside of town."
"So we go and burn the bones. Problem solved," Bobby said.
"I don't know," Dean added. "Something doesn't fit. I mean, the first few attacks were against counsellors. The last few were against kids. Why would this Cagney guy go after the kids?"
"He's a ghost that wants his land," Sam guessed.
"What happened to Abraham?"
Sam punched a few commands into the computer. "He's missing."
"I wonder if someone from Cagney's group offed Abraham as revenge, since the legal system failed. Gray, you said yourself that Abraham was worried about the kids wrecking the place."
"It makes sense," Bobby said. "The problem is we don't know where the body is. We need his remains."
"I think I know," Dean said. "One of the campers said he thought he saw a man approach the horse and Jill said she felt cold and heard scratches by the rock wall. I bet anything his body's out there. Jill said it was dangerous and almost nobody went in that area."
"So there's a good possibility we have two ghosts," Bobby replied in a worried tone. Normally, he would offer to take care of one, while Sam and Dean took care of the other, but neither was in top form. Sam only had one hand to work with, and Dean was usually one step away from keeling over. Neither was really in any shape to back the other up. They could go take care of one ghost one night and the other another night, but the longer they waited, the greater chance of another accident.
Gray came to the same conclusion as Bobby. There was one obvious solution. "I'm going with you," he announced.
This was one thing Bobby, Sam and Dean could all agree on. "Oh, hell no!" they all exclaimed at once.
Thomas Gates sat at his desk, staring at his phone. It had been weeks since he had hired Dante to find the amulet. He had already given him a large sum of money and he was wondering if he had been scammed. He wanted to call, but Dante made it quite clear he didn't tolerate people wanting updates.
He was just getting ready to leave when his phone rang.
"We need to arrange the second part of the payment. I've found the amulet."
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