The Plantation House.

Summary. . . . . . . . . Missing teens, an old slave plantation, what could possibly go wrong? Dean's about to find out as the brother's take on a hunt he was reluctant to pursue. Hurt Sam and Dean.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . Still only playing in Kripkies toy box

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . Still trying to get back into the swing of things writing wise, but I'm slowly getting there. Thanks for sticking with me whilst I struggled along, catch you all again soon, Peanut x

By the time Dean and Bobby had finally made it back to the dilapidated old house, the younger hunter's reserves were almost drained, the lack of sleep coupled with his injuries and shock had created within him a tiredness that was threatening to drag his body completely under; only the fact that they had no idea if Sam was still alive was pushing him on against the pain. He kept up a mantra quietly to himself, a mantra meant to keep him moving, yet a mantra he believed in firmly; he couldn't, wouldn't give up on the hope that Sam was okay, he just had to be. He stumbled up the rotten stairs, brushing off Bobby's offer of help he righted himself before striding with as much confidence as he could muster back into the place that had been his and Sam's prison. He moved quickly through the downstairs of the house this time, not caring at how much noise he made as his need to get to Sam increased, causing him to practically fall down the basement steps in his haste.

He halted at the foot of the stairs, his eyes taking a few minutes to adjust to the gloom, and his mind slow in reminding him of the whereabouts of his cage. Slowly though he began to pick out shapes and he started to move, his way becoming easier as the gloom began to recede and the light in the room brightened. He turned to Bobby wondering if the older hunter had turned on a flashlight, only to find that wasn't the case. Turning back he moved forward with trepidation, his eyes widening as the source of the light became known. A group of spirits surrounded Sam, and Dean for a second was unsure if they meant his brother harm. He lifted the shotgun Bobby had passed him earlier ready to shoot, only to lower it as Coffey's form materialized from the pack.

"E's not doin' so well Mista Dean. E's a 'urtin' bad. Ya gotta 'elp 'im."

Dean rushed forward, ignoring the chills that shook him as he ran through the essences of the spirits, his focus solely fixed on Sam. Dropping to his knees, he reached forward with trembling digits searching for a pulse he prayed to God would still be there, a smile lighting up his face as he found an all be it weak beat beneath his fingers.

"He's alive Bobby." He shouted over his shoulder before turning to his side and with teary eyes adding. "Thank you." To Coffey. "I have to get him to a hospital, but I will return and make sure you and the others are set free from this place, I promise."

"We's believes ya Mista Dean. We's waited this long, we's can a wait a little longer. You's jus' takes care of Mista Sammy. We's a still be 'ere."

Dean turned back to his friend. "I need your help Bobby, I can't lift him on my own." Needing no further prompting Bobby rushed forward and helped Dean lift the prone and unconscious younger Winchester. Together they struggled back up the stairs and through the dusty house, back through the broken off door and down the rotten steps, Dean's feet just touching the first blades of overgrown grass before his own body succumb to weariness, and it was all Bobby could do to stop Sam falling on top of his sibling as Dean crashed to the dew damp earth


Heat. Surrounding him like a boa, constricting all movement, making breathing hard. He wanted to dive back down into unconsciousness and the cooling breeze that lurked there, where everything was pain free and calming; but something niggled at his mind, tugging him ever closer to the heat. He figured he must have mumbled, or moved, or maybe even gasped in pain, because all of a sudden a shadow moved across him blocking the harsh light from his closed eyelids. He felt a hand grasp his and hold on tight, encouraging him to make that final push back into the wakening, but the lull to drop back down was too much and he could feel himself slipping once again; something about the touch though prevented him from falling completely, something oddly unfamiliar, something that told him it wasn't his brother doing the comforting, something that jolted in him a need to find out why and what was wrong. He forced himself back to the surface, and willed heavy eyes to open, forcing them back closed as the brightness of the room ignited pain within him that sent his stomach on a roller coaster ride, that sent it's meager contents gushing for the nearest exit, and fiery spikes of agony vibrating throughout his frame with every heave. He gladly accepted the cool glass of water that was touched to his dry and cracked lips, swilling the vile taste away and spitting it into the bowl that was placed beside him. He took a few sips to ease his sore throat before resting his aching head back onto the softness of the pillow, only when he had done so did he attempt yet again to open his eyes, discouraged and concerned when it was Bobby face that lingered before him and not Sam's.

"Sammy?" He inquired, not missing the hesitant look that crossed the older hunters features before he looked away. " Bobby, what's wrong? Where's Sammy?" His heart beating faster, thumping against his chest so hard he was sure it was about to burst through.

"Dean, son, I need ya to calm down. You aint gonna be any use to Sam if ya take another turn for the worst."

"Where's Sammy?" Dean tried again, managing to calm himself at least enough to get the words out once more, gaining a nod that went over his head from Bobby in return. Ignoring the pain that reignited within him, Dean managed to turn over, capturing for the first time a look at the other bed he hadn't even realized was in the room, and the brother that lay deathly pale and still upon it, surrounded by banks of equipment, IV's running into both arms, and a dreaded tube snaking it's way into his mouth. He tried to get up, tried to make his way over to make sure for himself that Sam was okay, realizing straight away just how difficult a task that was going to be as he meager strength gave out and he crashed back onto the pillow once more.

"Dean, ya stubborn idjit. What the hell d'ya think ya doin'?"

"I need to get to Sam. I need to make sure he's okay."

"He's doing as well as can be expected considering the shit that bastard put him through."

"Tell me!"

"Dean." Bobby drew out.

"Tell me!"

"Dean maybe this should wait until you're feeling a bit better."

"Please Bobby, tell me what's wrong with Sam."

Bobby looked away from eyes, that at times, rivaled Sam's at times. He knew he would have to tell Dean the bad news, but a part of him wanted to keep the news a secret at least for a little while longer. He coughed and cleared his throat before answering. His jaw was badly bruised but luckily not broken; he has deep cuts and burns from the shackles around his wrists; his throat is bruised and swollen, which is the reason for the intubation, they were worried it would swell too much and close of his airway; the knife wounds whilst deep and causing a lot of blood loss, didn't hit any of his major arteries or organs, they stitched them and dressed them and they will heal in time as will the whip marks he sustained to his back, they'll be uncomfortable for him for a while and they look terrible but. . . . . . . . ."

"But what?"

"They're not what the doctors are most worried about."

"And what are they worried about?"

Bobby coughed again before continuing. "They're worried about the head wound and the resulting concussion Dean. They think. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . They think that there could be some lasting brain damage." Bobby watched as Dean paled significantly before him. "He'll be fine Dean, he's a fighter, he'll bounce back."

"You don't know that, you can't tell me that. He couldn't hear me when we were locked up down there. What if. . . . . . . . . . . . . ."

"What if what?"

Dean looked back over at Sam, his eyes moistening as he thought about his siblings plight, he looked back at Bobby adding. "What if it's permanent?"

A.N. . . . . . . . . Okay, so I know you're all gonna hate me but this is where this fic is gonna end. For now! Don't worry though as there will be a sequel, that will deal with Sam's injuries and Coffey. I just need to get a couple more fics finished first so that I can give my whole concentration to it. At least this way they'll be no huge waits for chapter updates. I hope you understand, catch you soon, Peanut x