45. Pestilence

In the end, Brady gave us Pestilence's location. And as you could easily guess, the Winchesters—Sam in particular—had the honor to off the demon. He didn't seem bittersweet about it either, when he stabbed the demon hard in the stomach until he didn't move. It was the first time I stood back and observed the brothers. They were hardly normal by any means, and I didn't mean by their profession and lifestyle. Their behavior wasn't natural. I guess that came with the business. Mine couldn't be normal either, as I was still hanging around.

So after the thing with Brady, the three of us had headed back to Bobby's. We'd rested for a day or two. Well, everyone but me really rested. My thoughts went back to Sam's ridiculous idea. To his knowledge, only Bobby and he knew. Little did anyone know that I had listened in. I still wasn't sure when there would be an appropriate time to address his plan.

But I didn't have to worry about that, because about two days after the thing with Crowley, the Hellhounds, and Brady, Sam decided to voice his "genius" plan, letting Dean finally hear it.

Naturally, like anyone who heard it the first time, he wasn't happy.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean demanded of his younger brother.

"Dean—" Sam tried to explained.

"No, don't 'Dean' me. I mean, you—you have had some stupid ideas in the past. But this—d-did either of you know about this?" Dean looked from me to Bobby.

I kept my mouth shut and looked to Bobby.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"About Sam's genius plan to cram the devil down his throat."

Bobby only nodded.

"Well, thanks for the heads up!"

"Hey, this ain't about me."

Dean looked to his brother. "You can't do this."

"That's the consensus."

"All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion." Almost as if on cue, Dean's phone rang. "This isn't over. Hello?"

I just barely heard the voice at the other end: "Dean?"

"Cas?" I found myself saying the angel's name along with Dean.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked.

"We all thought you were dead," Dean said into the phone. "Where the hell are you, man?"

"A hospital."

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"You want to elaborate?"

"I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead."

"S-so, a hospital?"

"Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I'm told it upset the sailors."

"Uh, well, I got to tell you, man—you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box."

"How?"

"It's a long story, but, look—we're going after Pestilence now. So if you want to zap over here..."

"I can't 'zap' anywhere."

"What do you mean?"

"You could say my batteries are—are drained."

"What do you mean? You're out of angel mojo?"

"I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm that I'm just incredibly..."

"Human," I whispered. My eyes widened. I guess it's possible.

"Human," Dean repeated. "Wow. Sorry."

"Well, my point is—I can't go anywhere without money for...an airplane ride. And food. And more pain medication, ideally."

"All right. Well, look, no worries. Uh, Bobby's here. He'll wire you the cash."

"Dean, wait."

"I will?" Bobby asked.

"You said 'no' to Michael. I owe you an apology."

"Cas...I-it's okay."

I rubbed my face. So, Cas was human, we had to find Pestilence, and now everyone—except Cas—knew about Sam's "brilliant" idea to defeat Lucifer. Why did everything seem to be going in a downward spiral? Like things haven't been before? I asked myself.

* * *

"Let me handle this, boys," I said as we approached a security guard. The address Brady had given us led us to a nursing home in Davenport, Iowa. I exhaled a deep breath before addressing the guard. "Hey. Hi. Uh, I'm looking for my Nana. Uh, her name is Eunice Kennedy."

"Go around front and see," the guard instructed us.

"You mind helping me out, sir? Uh, she's about, uh, comes to about my shoulder and has gray hair, wears diapers."

I jumped back as Dean slugged the guard, knocking him out.

"Eunice Kennedy?" Sam probed me.

"The girl's becoming a natural." Dean beamed at me. "That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth."

We started down the halls. The atmosphere reeked of depression and illness, proper living quarters for a horseman named Pestilence.

"So, what are—Hey." Sam nudged Dean, who looked to be drifting off to sleep mid-walk. "What are we even looking for?"

"Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick."

"Everybody looks sick," I pointed out.

We brandished our weapons as we rounded a corner. Sam was armed with the usual knife, Dean was armed with a rifle, and I was with my usual small handgun. All the white doors were shut, leaving us with an open hallway.

A wave of something hit me full force in the chest. It didn't knock me down, but I started coughing terribly. The boys were starting to do the same. My head felt fogged up, like something was rapidly attacking me without me being aware of it.

I started tottering slightly between the boys. I fought to keep myself straight, but it was difficult with the halls and doors being blurred and distorted. I coughed violently again, and this time covered my mouth. I let out a strangled squeak when I saw my palm was dotted in red.

My eyes looked past my hand to see a doctor and a nurse dead on the floor before us. Dean, Sam, and I all continued to hack away like we couldn't shake off the cough.

"Ugh," Sam groaned. "Must be getting close."

"You think?" Dean muttered. He was using one side of the hall for support. I teetered so that I fell in behind Sam, who seemed to struggle with standing up as well. I felt like the world was spinning, and I just felt overall sickly.

I felt something trickle from the corner of my mouth—blood probably. He's got to be very close. I began to tremble and wished that my legs caved under me. I suddenly just wanted to be put into a coma. I rarely got sick, I hadn't been homeless long enough to really get a nasty batch of illness. I could thank my breaking-and-entering for giving me shelter from Mother Nature.

This was the worst thing ever.

"D-Dean?" I coughed as I saw him brace himself against a counter, hunched over.

"Y-you still here, Kota?" Sam grunted.

"B-barely." I wanted to slide down the wall.

"Here." In my distorted vision, I saw Sam reach a hand behind him for me to take. Practically blinded by my awful vision, I found his fingers as he led us past the bodies. I sniffled, feeling the temperature in the room rise. Or is it just me? Am I running a fever? "Don't let go."

"No—promises." I used my free hand to cover my mouth. Through my eyes, I saw Dean still in his position. "C-come on, give me a h-hand, Sam."

I was practically an infant animal with how my legs propelled me forward: in a tangled mess. I dragged Sam with me, and we both pulled Dean away from the counter. I let go of Sam's hand on accident as he tried to get his brother standing. All it did was land the both of them into the opposite wall I took perch against. Dean knocked into the wall, taking Sam down with him, both of them coughing heaps.

"K-Kota, the door," Sam coughed. I barely turned my head and couldn't recognize the room number. I tripped into Sam, who had his knife out as he got the door open for me. Behind us, Dean still continued to hack. How long will it be before we're done for? How are we still functioning?

My shaking hand pulled my gun up at seeing a dark-haired female nurse. I blinked my eyes a few times, but my vision wasn't improving. My arm became lead, and I felt myself fall forward, right at the nurse's feet.

"The doctor will see you now," she said in a sickly sweet voice. Yeah, this must be it. Come on, Sam. Stay awake...stay...

Before I fell under, I heard his body collapse beside me.

* * *

I almost thought I was dead, I should have been with how much was going on in the air. I still felt like death was about ready to finish me off. He was already damaging my vision, and I felt like he was destroying my body from the inside.

I could barely lift my head, but I felt myself being dragged along the tile flooring of the room. I groaned lowly once I came to rest between the boys. I could hear their wheezing and coughing, so they weren't dead yet.

"Hmm," came a new, male voice. This has got to be the big boss. Pestilence. "You boys don't look so well, neither does your friend here. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever. Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That's no fun." I hissed as Pestilence grabbed Sam by his hair, pulling his head up. "However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?

"Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself...Very...Pure...Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose—divide and conquer." I heard a foot step on some flesh. Pestilence had to be right over us, probably on one of Dean's hands. I gritted my teeth. "That's why, in the end...It always wins. So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy...and weak. It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time.

"Now...On a scale of one to ten, how's your pain?"

Above my bone-rattling coughing, I heard the door open.

"Cas?" Dean grunted. I rolled onto my side to see our good former-angel-now-human Castiel. He's our saving grace. Well, he will be once he deals with this.

"How'd you get here?" Pestilence snarled.

"I took a bus," Cas replied. Somehow, I scoffed at that. "Don't worry, I—"

"Cas!" I coughed as I heard him fall to the floor, coughing, just like Sam, Dean, and myself.

"Well, look at that," Pestilence said, amused. "An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that's fascinating. There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?"

My eyes bulged as Cas grabbed something—Sam's knife—and lunged for Pestilence. I made a face mid-cough as I heard Pestilence scream bloody murder.

"Maybe just a speck," Cas growled.

While Pestilence cradled his ring-less hand, the nurse went for Cas. She tackled him to the ground, but judging by the dying gurgle in her throat, she didn't survive.

And just like that, as though the blanket over us was thrown off, every symptom disappeared. Dean was the first to get to his feet, running for Pestilence's ring. As I got on all fours, I looked up to see Pestilence covering his missing finger with his other fingers.

"It doesn't matter," he said softly. "You're too late."

Like angels and demons, Pestilence disappeared in the blink of an eye. I sat up, inhaling deep breaths.

"Kota?"

I turned my head to Sam, giving him a weary smile. "I'm okay...mostly." I yawned. "I think I need a nap."

"So, that's what? Three down, one to go?"

"Thanks for coming when you did, Cas," I told him, smiling faintly. "So, bus travel, huh?"

"Not my preferred method of transportation," he admitted. "But it was the best thing I could do."

"Without you, I'm not sure we would have gotten the ring."

"Ye of little faith, Dak," Dean snapped lightly at me. "We would've gotten the shot."

"So what were you waiting on?" I raised an eyebrow.

Dean stared at the ring he held. "The right moment."

"You missed it."

"You know what? I agree, you should take a nap."

**[does a quick count] so, we're starting to wind down with this story. 

I know, I know, crazy, right? At chapter 45, things are starting to wind down. 

But, we've still got a little bit of story left. Plus, I've got a few surprises up my sleeve which you'll see ;)

Anyway, in an odd sort of way, describing the sudden illness attack was rather...interesting to write. Almost fun, actually.**