Larry finally dies for good. Sam & Bobby continue looking after the still sick Dean.
It was midnight when Sam woke up to see Bobby struggling to keep Dean in the bed.
"WE... WE HAVE T-TO EXORCISE HIM!" Dean was yelling as he fought against Bobby.
"Dean, will ya stay in the bed, ya frigging lunatic. Yer sick."
"What's going on?" muttered Sam, sitting up, and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
Bobby sighed, and placed both hands on Dean's shoulders to keep him in the bed. "He thinks we should exorcise the lamp. I keep telling him the lamp is gone, but he won't listen to me."
Sam rolled his eyes, and turned to Dean. "Hey Dean, how are you feeling?"
"Yogi won't let... let me ki-kill Larry," moaned Dean, looking up at Sam with a miserable expression.
"That's because Larry's not real," Sam told him, running his fingers through Dean's sweat-soaked hair.
"He is... He ke-keeps laughing at me."
"Who? Yo... I mean Bobby or the lamp?" Sam had to ask.
"L-Larry. We have... have to kill h-him again, Sam... before he kills u-us all." Dean grabbed Sam's wrist, and held tight. "H-He's tried to kill you... you before. He's evil, S-Sammy."
"Er... When did the lamp attack me?"
"W-When... When we w-went back... home," Dean told him with a sad expression. "S-Saved you from La-Larry."
Sam frowned, trying to work out what his insane brother was going on about, and suddenly remembered the tightening around his neck as he was strangled by a lamp cord. "Oh right. That was Larry, was it?"
"Y-Yeah," answered Dean, nodding. "And now he wan-wants to kill me. He... his body died... but he didn't. Goes to an-another."
"A lamp demon? I've heard it all now," Bobby muttered to himself.
"Dean, it wasn't the lamp that was alive, it was the spirit in the house, remember?"
"NO! H-He's real, Sammy," Dean croaked in a hoarse voice, eyes shining with tears as he pleaded with him. "T-The lamp is evil... P-Possessed. Please don't let him... ki-kill me."
Sam closed his eyes, and silently counted to ten so he didn't end up killing him himself.
"P-Please Sammy. Please."
Sam opened his eyes, and looked down at him. The expression on Dean's face broke his heart; he looked like a child asking his parents to get rid of the monster in the closet. "Okay," he sighed, stroking his hair soothingly, before looking over at Bobby. "Get the holy water, the book, and start an exorcism."
Bobby stood staring at Sam, wondering if he had finally lost it too.
"It's the only way, Bobby. Otherwise, he'll never get any real rest if he keeps getting paranoid about a killer lamp."
"Fine," he agreed, shaking his head. "Where's the bag?"
"Under my bed," answered Sam, sitting closer to Dean, and adjusting him so he could sit in his arms. "Hey Dean, we're going to get rid of... Larry for good, okay?"
Dean nodded, and nuzzled his face against Sam's cool neck. "Mmmm. Thanks S'my."
"You're welcome," whispered Sam, tightening his grip slightly.
Bobby grabbed the bag, and placed it on the bed. After taking out the things he needed, he brought the lamp out from under the bed, and placed it on the kitchen table.
"B-Burn in... hell, b-bitch," rasped Dean, shivering in Sam's arms.
Bobby chuckled, and opened the book to the right page. Leaving the cap on the holy water, he pretended to sprinkle the water over the lamp, and began the exorcism.
"Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino qui fertis super caelum caeli ad Orientem Ecce dabit voci Suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem Deo..."
In Dean's delirious mind as he watched the exorcism, he saw the lamp shake, and heard him screaming, begging Dean for help. An evil smile, saved only for Demons, crossed his face when he saw a dark cloud leave the lamp, and slowly start drifting upwards.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..."
Dean shivered violently, and looked up at the ceiling. "H-He's gone," he whispered, relaxing against Sam, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"Thank god," sighed Sam, hoping now the lamp was 'exorcised', it would be the end of Dean's ramblings about it trying to kill him.
Dean swallowed heavily against the sudden sickness he felt. "I-I don't feel..." Before he could finish, Dean threw up all over himself and Sam, missing the bed entirely.
"S-S'ry," mumbled Dean, his stomach rolling and once more sending the muscles in his already sore throat convulsing as he started dry heaving.
"Hey hey, take it easy," soothed a worried Sam, rubbing circles on his back. His other hand cupped Dean's burning sweaty forehead, bracing his body, so he didn't collapse forward into the sick.
Leaving the things on the table, Bobby joined his boys, and tried to help by rubbing Dean's stomach gently. "It's alright, boy. We've got ya. Shh."
Dean whimpered, his stomach feeling like it was trying to retch up his organs, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his face pale and sweaty. This always felt even worse than actually being sick.
The violent heaving finally subsided a couple of minutes later, leaving him exhausted. "Ugh," he moaned, collapsing back against Sam.
"Here, drink this," Sam told him, holding a glass of water in-front of him.
Taking a mouthful of water, Dean swished it around his mouth, and spat it back out in the tissue that Bobby was suddenly holding. "Thanks," he whispered, taking a proper drink to soothe his throat.
"Get him in the bathroom to clean him up," said Bobby, placing his hand on Dean's trembling back.
Sam looked worriedly at Bobby, and nodded, before placing the glass back on the bedside table. "Okay. Come on, big brother. Let's get you cleaned up."
"I've got him, Sam." Bobby gently grabbed Dean's shoulders, and pulled him away from Sam, so he could get up from the bed.
Dean grinned up at Bobby, and croaked in a weak voice, "Y-Yogi... Can I have a... a bear hug n-now? Sammy said you would."
Bobby chuckled, and wrapped his arms tightly around the sick young man to give him a big hug. "There ya go, ya idjit."
"Right, you've had your hug," said Sam, coming to stand by the two. "Come on."
"Noooo. I like Y-Yogi," said Dean, snuggling closer to Bobby's chest. "H-He's my friend now... He k-killed Larry."
A soft smile crossed Bobby's face as he held Dean, ignoring the fact that he was covered in sick.
"Dean, you've got sick all over you," Sam told him, putting his hands on his hips. "We need to get you cleaned up."
Dean pouted, but moved away from Bobby slightly to look up at Sam.
"Hey Bobby, can you get me a clean pair of clothes, and get Dean a fresh pair of boxers, while we're in the bathroom?" asked Sam, wrapping Dean's arm around his shoulders, and gently lifting him from the bed. "I've got you." As soon as he got Dean on his feet, Sam put his arm around his waist, and slowly helped him to the bathroom.
"I'll be there in a sec, Sam."
Making it to the bathroom, Sam made Dean stand in-front of the sink. "Hold onto the sink, okay? I'll clear the stuff from the toilet seat, then you can sit down."
Hands gripping the sink, Dean nodded, closing his eyes against the dizziness. "Kay S'my," he whispered, opening his eyes to see a pale freckled face staring back at him, which was identical to his own. "Sammy S-Sammy Sammy... There's a sh-shapeshifter..." As he spoke, he noticed the other one copy him. "Sammy."
"What are you talking about now?" asked Sam, coming to stand by Dean. He saw what the problem was, and sighed. "It's not a shapeshifter,"
"He keeps... co-copying me," Dean told Sam, pointing a trembling finger at the other Dean, who was pointing back at him. Luckily, Sam was holding him up, otherwise he would have fallen to the floor.
Sam stared at him. "Er... Dean? That's a mirror. The other Dean is you, it's your reflection not a supernatural monster, you weirdo. Look, there's me..." He waved his free hand, and the reflected Sam waved back.
Dean blinked a few times, looking the picture of confused.
"Sit down, come on," said Sam, walking Dean over to the toilet, sitting him down carefully on the seat. He was glad Dean didn't try and punch the mirror, he didn't want to add a shredded hand to Dean's list of symptoms.
Bobby came into the bathroom with the changes of clothes. "Get yerself cleaned up," he said, soaking a towel in the sink. "I'll clean Dean up."
Sam looked down at himself, and reluctantly left his brother in Bobby's care. "I'll just be a sec, okay Dean?"
Dean didn't answer, he was busy smiling dopily at Bobby.
"Here we go," muttered Bobby, wiping the sick from Dean's chin and chest. "I bet that feels better, huh?"
"Mmmm," agreed Dean, reaching out his hand to touch Bobby's bearded face, making the older man smile.
Changing his clothes quickly, Sam appeared beside the toilet, grabbing hold of Dean's hand. "How are you feeling now?"
Dean shrugged, closing his eyes as he started listing to the side.
After cleaning and changing Dean into another pair of boxers, Sam manoeuvred him so that he was in his arms, an arm across his back and the other under his knees as he lifted him from the seat. "Let's get you back to bed."
"Not... w-with you," mumbled Dean, hiding his face against Sam's neck.
Sam laughed. "Don't worry, you're not my type," he told him, placing him in the bed, and covering him up.
"Are ya hungry, kid?" Bobby asked Dean, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"No." Dean started rubbing his eyes with his fists, looking like a child at bedtime. He flinched when he suddenly felt something wet on his cheek. Moving his hands, he looked up to see Sam running the wet cloth over his face.
Bobby turned on the lamp, which he had put back on the bedside table. "Take these," he said, shaking out two aspirins, and holding them out to the sick young man with a glass of water.
"Thanks. Ugh... Uh." Dean took the water in a slightly trembling hand, and swallowed the pills. Passing the glass back to Bobby, Dean's nose started scrunching up as he felt a tickle in the bridge of his nose. "Uhhh. A-A-A-Huh..."
"Are you alright?"
Sniffling, Dean pointed at his nose, shaking his head. "Can't... HUH-Heh... HuhhHHH... ugh. Huh-ehhhHH... Sn-Sneeze." Growling, he threw his head back on the pillows in frustration, he hated when he needed to sneeze but he couldn't.
"I've got an idea," Sam announced, getting in Dean's face. "BOOOO!"
"Er..." Dean and Bobby stared at Sam, wondering if he had gone mad or something. "What the hell was that?" asked Bobby, eyebrows so far up, they disappeared under his hat.
"I'm trying to scare him, to make him sneeze."
"That's hiccups, ya damn moron. Ya can't scare someone into sneezing."
Sam blushed slightly. "Oh yeah. I always get those mixed up."
Dean had his own idea, and looked up at the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. After a few seconds of staring, it worked. "Het-ktchsh-CHUH! Huhh…PTSHCH-eh! Hptch-shuh! Huh-ETSHCHSH! HTCHSH-uh." After his sneezing fit, Dean sighed, and closed his eyes with a smile.
"How did you do that?"
Dean shrugged, and looked up at Sam. "D-Dunno. Looking at a bright light a-always makes me sn-sneeze."
"Huh. That's weird. Do you want to watch some TV?"
"Kay," nodded Dean, laying back against the mountain of pillows.
Bobby sat on Dean's other side with the bowl and cloth, trying to get his temperature down. He tried not to listen when Sam started talking to Dean in a low voice.
"Get better soon, big brother. You hear me," Sam whispered, ruffling the sweat-soaked hair.
Hope you like
This time Larry's finally dead, lol. I knew Dean wouldn't let it go until they did an exorcism.