Warping to Destiny - A Supernatural FanFiction

Chapter 84 - Rings and Stones

Sam and Dean

Sam woke up first, feeling hazy and disoriented. Tarsa was at his side in a flash. "Take it easy Sam," he said, "You're gonna be okay."

"What the... hell happened?" he asked, his voice thin and whispery.

"You and Dean were stabbed in the back," Tarsa answered.

"What? Dean..?"

"Dean's fine. He's still unconscious, but you are both out of the water. It was real close though."

"Who…?"

"We don't know yet. I suspect it was one of us," Tarsa said, sorrow evident in his voice. "I'm looking into it."

He pulled up a chair and sat close to Sam's bed so he could speak softly. "Sam," he said. "I'm sorry to bring this up while you're recovering, but I fear it may be too important to wait." He took Sam's hand in his. "No, don't speak unless you have to. But There's something going on with Dean that my healers can't explain, and can't help. And I'm wondering if somehow my enemies have discovered some new way to hurt the two of you."

"What is it?" Sam whispered uneasily.

"My healers tell me there is a darkness in your brother, a darkness perhaps around his heart, and they have no idea what it could be. It's not physically hurting him that they can tell. It's not interfering with their healing of him. But they are worried."

Sam shook his head. "It may not be from here," he whispered. "I think.." It was very hard for Sam to talk, and his sentence died away.

Tarsa patted Sam's hand. "This is too much for you to deal with just now, I'm sorry I brought it up. You keep resting and healing. I'll be back to check on you later." Sam nodded weakly and fell back to sleep.

When Dean woke up a few hours later, also groggy and disoriented, Sam was sitting up in bed eating some soup. Apparently they had a form of chicken soup they used for sickness as well. Maybe chicken soup is just one of those things that transcends universes.

"Sammy?" Dean said weakly.

"Welcome back, dude," Sammy said, with little more energy than Dean had.

"Why… Why are we here?" Dean asked through a parched throat.

Tarsa got up from the chair he was sitting on and went to Dean. "Save your breath, Dean. Here, drink some water."

Dean took a few sips of the water, but couldn't hold up his head for more than a few seconds. He looked at Tarsa, the question in his eyes.

"You were stabbed in the back, both of you," Tarsa said.

Dean frowned at that. "We were…" he shook his head in puzzlement. "Friends," he said. "We were with… friends."

"It wasn't your friends. But someone knew where you were, slipped in among your group of friends, stabbed you, and slipped back out," Tarsa explained. "It happened really fast. Some of your friends were able to describe it, but it happened too fast for anyone to actually get descriptions. But we are investigating, you can be sure of that."

"How long?" Dean asked.

"It happened about eight hours ago. Your brother's quick thinking was all that saved you. He was able to get the orb and activate it to bring you here. We had healers on you for about six hours. They will be back to give you more in a few hours. They need to recharge." Tarsa patted his arm gently. "Now you just rest. You're out of danger, but you're still hurt and you're still very weak. So right now your job is to rest okay?"

Dean nodded slightly, looked over at Sam in the other bed, and closed his eyes in sleep.

Just then the door opened, and Andro indicated he needed to speak to Tarsa.