AN: This is an AU tag to Croatoan, so I guess you can say I'm taking liberties in certain areas.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Kripke's wonderful creations. However if he ever gets tired of having them on his shelf, I'm more than willing to take them off his hands... otherwise I'm just playing in his sandbox.
The sound of the classic muscle car's rumbling was normally a comforting sensation for Dean, but not today, not right now. All he could concentrate on was getting as far away from River Grove, Oregon as quickly as he could; the damn hunt could go straight to Hell as far as he was concerned. Taking a quick glance to his right he was thankful his passenger was still passed out, but worried about what would happen when that was no longer the case. He didn't want to think about what happened, didn't want to admit how they had walked right into the biggest trap that either one of them had ever seen, and now there was a damn good chance that the one person he could count on was going to die and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
'No… not happening!' he thought angrily to himself. 'There's no freakin' way that Dad's going out like this, he deserves better.'
The road continued to stretch out before him and he could only hope that he made it to their destination before his father woke up, there was no way to know which version of John Winchester he'd be facing then. It wasn't even supposed to be a real hunt, it was more of a joke really; people losing it and killing each other. It happened everyday, and even his dad thought it was a stretch to think that something supernatural was going on. Yeah, until they saw the effects first hand and realized that the whole damn town was infested with some sort of demonic influence that neither of them had ever heard of before. Once they understood what was really going on, both of them knew they couldn't leave until they got to the bottom of it, and wouldn't you know it… that's exactly what the demonic bastards had planned all along. The virus, for lack of a better term, was spread by blood contact and drove the infected into a psychotic frenzy.
Sighing, Dean rubbed his face to help ease the tension there and once again found himself making the toughest decision in his life.
"Damn it Dean, give me my gun and leave!" John shouted as he held out his hand. "I'm not going to turn into one of those things."
"For the last time Dad… no." Dean said while looking at his father with steel determination. "You're all I have left, and there's no way I'm letting you do this. There has to be a way…"
"There's not dammit! Now give me the damn gun!"
Shaking his head, Dean walked around to the side of the bed, the same bed that his father was sitting on when the doctor had informed them that this brave hunter was infected and it was only a matter of time before he too lost his mind, body and soul to this epidemic.
"Sorry Dad." Dean said quietly as he quickly pulled out a syringe and injected the older man with its contents. Seeing the utter betrayal in the eldest Winchester's eyes, Dean could only brace his father's body as it suddenly went slack.
They had no real family, not anymore, so Dean had no idea where to go now. Most hunters that his dad had introduced him to lately were more bloodthirsty than anyone else he'd ever seen and if they got wind of what happened, then they wouldn't have any problems justifying a bullet in the brain. It didn't used to be this way. At one time they had a family, an unconventional one, but one none the less. That was before the big blowout though, when it seemed as if an invisible line had been drawn and those that they thought they knew had crossed it. Now it had been eight years and before now he'd never once looked back, then again he'd never had to face this by himself either.
Sighing, he could remember the times that he had been close to calling their former friends, but each and every time he put the phone down knowing that it would have been an unforgivable offense in his father's eyes and there was no way he was going to follow in his brother's footsteps; one traitor in the family was enough.
"Do you really think you're going to be able to hold me for long boy?" John sneered as he struggled against the handcuffs.
Dean looked at his passenger and instantly knew which version he was dealing with. Drawing in a steadying breath Dean nodded, "Yeah actually I do, so how about you leave him alone and go back to Hell where you belong?"
John laughed until tears leaked out from his eyes. "You really think I'm possessed don't you? You really are pathetic, you know that? To think of all the years wasted on you that you can't even see what's in front of you. This is me Dean, the one and only. So what are you going to do about it?"
That was all the incentive he needed. Not bothering to slow down, Dean quickly reached over and hit his father's body, connecting him with an uppercut to the jaw instantly tossing the older man back into oblivion. "Something that you'd never guess you fugly son of a bitch." He ground out between clenched teeth. He knew that after it was over his father would eventually calm down and forgive him, but he wasn't deluding himself, after this it would be a very long time before he was trusted again.
Bobby Singer couldn't believe what he'd just heard, but then again he really could. He and some others had been getting the word out that there had been small instances of a demonic virus scattered here and there trying to give other hunters a heads up in hopes of avoiding what had just happened to John Winchester. Shaking his head and pulling his cap back, he couldn't understand what the hell John had been thinking trying to take on a town full of demon spawn with only Dean as backup. Then again, it sounded exactly what John would do if for no other reason than for spite.
"Rumsfield, get your lazy carcass in here. Damn fool dog, don't even know when to get in out of the rain." He groused as he held the door open. Normally he would let the mutt stay out in the downpour but something told him that he was going to need all the help he could get before the night was out. With that thought in mind he set to calling a few people who would be more than a little interested to know what was going on. He knew that Jim wouldn't be able to do anything at the moment, but he hoped that both Caleb and Joshua were available and close so they could help decide if they went the next step or not because that was one phone call he really didn't want to make.
It didn't take long to get the once spacious dining room ready for company, anymore it was more or less ready for anything that could possibly walk in the door. However it took him more time and half a whisky bottle to pull himself together so he wouldn't look at the shotgun that he had sworn the next time it was used would be to put buckshot in John Winchester's ass.
The sound of an approaching vehicle made him want to lock the doors and bear arms until he distinguished the sound to be Caleb's jeep. Irritated that he actually was relived that he had some sort of back up, Bobby marched to the door and flung it open yelling the whole time.
"It's about time you idgit, get in here before we don't have any time to figure out what we're going to do."
Caleb stood in the rain and looked at the older man in surprise. He had no idea what exactly was going on, but from what little Bobby had said and from what he'd intuitively pieced together, Dean was bringing in an infected John and no one was happy about it. Not wanting to make things even harder, he reached behind the seat and grabbed his duffle, hoping that he wouldn't have to worry about using half the stuff in there.
It didn't take long from the time Caleb walked into the old farm house before the sound of the Impala was heard from a mile off sending both hunter's on edge; it sounded like Dean was pushing his baby to limit, telling them everything they needed to know before the sleek black car even pulled into the driveway.
Barely glancing at Caleb, Bobby reached for the phone and dialed the ingrained numbers by memory. It didn't take long before a tired voice answered, making Bobby feel even worse for what he was about to do.
"Caleb and I have a situation here; we can only guess it's serious. We'll have the package to you soon."
"Understood, just be careful the roads are getting bad again."
The call was cut quickly both parties knew there was no time to waste on formalities. Bobby nodded to Caleb before answering the unasked question. "Everything will be waiting for us when we get there."
Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, Sam stretched a moment before walking from the clinic toward the back of the house and worked on getting a pot of coffee made; he knew it would be needed soon. It wasn't often that Bobby brought him a "package" but when he did then it was usually something that was considered a lost cause. It was funny in a surreal sort of way, he had spent so many years trying to fight the dead to save the living and now he was brought the barely living so he could figure out how to keep them from dying; either way he was surrounded by death and destruction.
Seeing the coffee was made, he quickly drank two cups and walked back into the clinic to get the back room ready. He had built the addition himself with the extensive help of Bobby, Caleb and Joshua right after he bought the place in hopes of having someplace for injured hunters to come and be treated with the privacy that often didn't come with some of the injuries that occurred during a hunt. He had actually laughed about it, saying that for the amount of money he put into it, it would be a shame that it would collect dust. Little did he know just how often it would be used making him wish that he could go back in time and shut himself up.
Looking at the clock he knew that Bobby would still have at least another hour and a half on the road which left him enough time to go back into the lab and see how his latest attempt was coming along. It was slow going but he was determined to find the key to the virus that was being spread throughout the country, and hopefully find a way to neutralize it before more people inadvertently came into contact with it and killed each other.
As he walked back down the hall, he unseeingly passed by the framed document on the wall from Harvard Medical School for one Dr. Samuel Singer.
AN: Let me know if I should continue it or toss it in a closet and beat it into submission. ;)