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IMMUNE
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( Croatoan )
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"THEY'VE GOT ONE! In here!" Mark shouts from the next room over. Bek, Sam, and Dean share a look before going to him. "What do you mean?"
"The wife — she's infected. We've got to take care of this, we can't just leave her in there. My neighbors — they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Mark claims.
Dean doesn't hesitate to cock his gun and run past Mark and into the room with Amanda and Pam. Bek and Sam close behind. "You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" Pam asked them, shocked.
"Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?" Sam hoped but Doctor Amanda stayed quiet in her spot.
"Can you cure it?" Dean asks.
"I don't even know what it is." Amanda exclaims.
"It's only a matter of time before she breaks through." Mark says, keeping a gun on the door of the room Mrs Tanner was in.
"Just leave her in there. You can't shoot her like an animal." Pam cries out.
"Sam." Dean says and walks up to the door. Sam and Mark following him, Sam opens the door and the other two step inside pointing the gun at the infected wife. "Mark. What are you doing? Mark, it's them. They locked me in here. They tried to kill me. They're infected, not me. Please, Mark," Mrs Tanner cries, "You've known me all your life. Please."
A gunshot goes off from behind Dean and Mark, both flinching and covering their heads, not expecting it. Bek grits her teeth, after firing two more shots to make sure she was dead, she lowers her gun. Mark and Dean turn to her. "If you're gonna shoot then shoot."
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THAT NIGHT, EVERYONE IN THE medical center was still very cautious with their surroundings.
Bek sat on a seat in the lab room with Pam and Amanda. "How long have you been in the FBI?" Pam asks her, grabbing a tray of blood they had used for labs. Bek chuckles. "Too long," she nods and then Pam trips, dropping the small glasses of blood, causing them to hit against the ground and break. "Oh, God! Is there any on me?! Am I okay?!"
"You're clean, you're okay." Amanda walks up to Pam, assuring her. Sam, Mark, and Dean walk into the room. "Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go." Pam begs.
"No we can't, cause those things are everywhere." Dean speaks up.
"Oh, god. Why is this happening?" Pam bends over, placing her hands on her knees.
"Just take a breath," Bek says and stands from the seat, walking over to Sam and Dean. "She's right about one thing. We can't stay here. We've got to get out of here, get to the Roadhouse, let people know what's coming." She tells them, placing her hands on her hips.
"That's a good point. 'Night Of The Living Dead' didn't exactly end pretty." Dean comments.
"We gotta act fast. Lots of folks up here are good with rifle. Even with all your hardware, we're easy targets. So, unless you've got some explosives . . ." Mark whispers.
Sam looks around and spots some alcohol on top of a metal cabinet. "We could make some," Sam walks toward it and grabs a bottle. At the door, someone begins to knock on it. "Let me in, please!" They shout. The four run out there.
"It's Duane Tanner." Mark announces. The man they had came to town in the first place to find. Mark opens the door. Duane walks in and past the three hunters. "Duane, you okay?" Mark follows him.
The three hunters share a look. "That's the guy that I uh . . . " Dean makes a noise with his mouth and drags his thumb across his throat. Sam nods, "Yeah."
"Who else is in here?" Duane asks.
Dean takes charge and grabs him by the elbow. "Woah, now buddy. Doc, how about you check Duane here?" Duane follows Amanda into the lab. "Pam." Amanda calls out for some existence. Dean, Sam, Bek, and Mark follow them. "Who are you?" Duane looks over his shoulder at Dean.
"Nevermind who I am. Doc." Dean insists.
"Duane, where you been?" Mark asks, leaning against a metal shelf. "I was on a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I saw Roger Mills being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives. I ran. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?" Duane looks around the room.
"Awkward," Dean says under his breath. No one answers him, instead Amanda notices blood on his pant leg. She bends down with rubber gloves on and touched it but it's a hole in his pants that leads to an even bigger cut. "You're bleeding."
"Where'd you get that?" Dean asks.
"I was running. I must have tripped." Duane says.
"Tie him up. There's rope in there." Dean orders.
Duane stands but Dean points a gun at him. "Sit down!"
"Sorry, Duane. He's right. We've got to be careful." Mark says and walks into the other room. "Careful? About what?" Duane asks.
"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asks.
"No! What the hell, no!" Duane shouts.
"Doc, any way to know for sure? Any test?" Sam asks.
"I've studied Beverlys blood work backwards and forewords," Amanda shrugs, sighing sadly, "It took three hours for the virus to incubate. Sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then. So, no, there would be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane . . . turns."
"Dean, Bek. We need to talk, now." Sam says. Mark returns with the rope. They close the door behind them as they exited the room. "This is my vision, guys. It's happening."
"Yeah, I figured." Dean nods.
"You can't kill him now. Okay? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not." Sam says.
"I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, cut on his leg, his whole family is infected." Dean says.
"Then we should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see." Bek suggests.
"For what? For him to hulk out, infect somebody else? No, thanks. Cant take that chance. Look, I'm not happy about this but it's a tough job, and you know that." Dean says.
"It's supposed to be tough. We're supposed to struggle with this." Sam says.
"What does that buy us?" Dean asks.
"A clear conscience, for one." Sam says.
Dean scoffs. "Well, it's too late for that one." And he tries to walk past Sam but he stops him. "What the hell has happened to you? You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't even act like yourself anymore, Dean. You're acting like one of those things out there." Dean grits his teeth and shoves Sam out of the way, stomping past Bek and into the other room and locking the door behind him.
"Dean. Dean!" Bek shouts trying to unlock the door.
"Dean, open the damn door." Sam growls.
Dean ignores them and walks away, pulling out his gun. Duane sits in a chair, tied with the rope Mark had found. Dean closes the door behind him. "No, no! I swear! It's not in me!" Duane says.
"Oh, God. We're all gonna die." Pam says.
"Maybe he's telling the truth." Mark tells Dean.
"No, he's not him — not anymore." Dean cocks his gun and walks up to Duane.
"Ask her! Ask the doctor. It's not in me!" Duane cried out with tears falling down his cheeks in fear that he was gonna die. Dean looks up to Amanda. "I . . . just . . . I can't tell."
"Please, don't. Dont. Please. I swear it's not in me. It's not in me, I swear. I swear, it's not in me." Duane sons.
Dean raises his gun. "I've got no choice," Duane sobs but keeps his eyes shut and his head down. Dean readies his fingers but can't bring himself to pull the trigger as he thinks about Sam's vision. "Damnit." He cursed lowering his gun. Duane raised his head, panting.
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BEK FURROWS HER EYEBROWS as she stared down at the explosive she was making. It was like riding a bicycle for her. They were all silent and didn't speak about Dean almost shooting Duane Tanner.
Amanda walks into the room. "It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's alright."
"Yeah," Sam answers after sharing a look with Dean.
"You know I'm gonna ask you why." Sam says, speaking to Dean who was inspecting his explosive in the making.
"Yeah, I know." Dean says softly.
"So, why? Why didn't you do it?" Sam asks.
Dean clears hot throat. "We need more alcohol." Sam sighs and walks out of the room. Bek sends Dean a look and he looks away with a frown. "How are you holding up, Pam?" Sam asks the assistant.
"Good. It will all be over soon," she says and goes up to the door, closing and locking it, "In fact . . . I've been waiting for this the whole time."
"For what?" Asks Sam.
"To get you alone," she smirks before attacking Sam and throwing him to the ground. Hearing the commotion from outside the room, Bek, Dean, and Mark run up to the door, trying to get it open. Pam straddles Sam and punches him across the face before slicing his chest with a knife. She sliced her hand and placed it against his cut, making sure their blood was connecting.
Dean finally was able to open the door and he shot Pam twice causing her to fall off Sam. Sam groans holding his chest and he breathes heavily. He then holds his hand up to be helped up and just as Dean goes to, Mark places a hand on his shoulder. "He's been infected. He has the virus."
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THEY STOOD AROUND SAM WHO sat on a metal table, feeling hopeless. Dean walks around him in a circle. "Doctor, check his wound again, would you?"
"What does she need to examine him for? You saw what happened." Mark says.
"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Amanda asks him.
"Come on, of course it did!" Mark shouts.
"We don't know that for sure." Bek says.
"We can't take a chance. You know what we have to do." Mark says.
"Nobody's shooting my brother." Dean tells them.
"He's not gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself." Duane says.
"Nobody's shooting anyone." Dean says.
"You were gonna shoot me!" Duane yells.
"If you don't shut your pie hole, I still might!" Dean raises his voice, pointing a finger at him. "Dean, they're right. I'm infected. Just give me the gun, and I'll do it myself." Says Sam.
"Forget it." Dean and Bek say in unison.
"I'm not gonna become one of those things." Sam says.
"We've still got some time." Dean argues.
"Time for what? I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry. But i'm gonna take care of this," Mark pulls out his gun but before he could make another move, Bek pulls out hers and points it at him, not hesitating. She stares at him with a stone cold face, daring him to make another move.
"I'm gonna say this one time; you make a move, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. Do I make myself clear?" Dean raises his voice.
"What are we supposed to do?!" Mark shouts. They were terrified, there was no doubt and they were using their fear and turning it into anger. Dean pulls out his keys and tosses them to Mark. "Get the hell out of here. That's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives. There's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You got enough firepower to handle anything now," Dean pauses and looks at Bek, "You too, Bek."
"No, Dean." Bek shakes her head and lowers her gun. She was not gonna leave the brothers in a situation like this, especially Sam who she had grown close with over the past couple of months they have been together. "Bek, go," Dean stares at the girl with all seriousness.
Bek held back the cry she wanted to release and then nodded, running her hand around her nose. "What about you?" Mark asks Dean and in response, he just stares at him. "No, Dean. No. Go with them. This is your only chance." Sam says.
"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy." Dean shakes his head, "No, he's right, man. Come with us," Mark says but Dean stares at him, coming to terms with their decision, "Okay, it's your funeral." Amanda goes to the door. "I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, Marshals."
"Oh, actually, we're not really marshals." Bek spoke up from beside of Sam. Amanda looks at her and she furrows her eyebrows. "Oh." With that, the doctor leaves the room leaving Bek and the brothers alone. Bek leans into Sam, wrapping her arms around the youngest Winchester, receiving a hug in response. It would be the last time she spoke to Sam Winchester — the man who had been there for her since they met.
She pulls away and places both her hands on his face before placing
a soft kiss against his forehead. She then looks back at Dean who stares at the girl in awe. They never got along, no matter what it was. Maybe for a few minutes, but not for a whole day and it's something they had both come to regret. She walked up to him and immediately wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her.
A tear had escaped her eye as she clung onto him for dear life. After a few minutes, she pulled away, leaving a hand on his chest. Standing on her tippy toes, she placed a long kiss against his cheek before pulling away.
As she stepped up to the door, she turned back and looked at the brothers and a small smile formed on her face. She raised her hand and gave a small wave before turning and leaving the building. Dean locks the door behind her. Sam stared at his brother with tears in his eyes. "I wish we had a deck of cards. Or a foosball table or something," Dean chuckles.
"Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here. please." Sam begs.
Dean ignores him, making the boy mad. "Give me my gun and leave."
"For the last time, Sam. No." Dean says and turns, walking to the other side of the room. Sam slams his hands against the metal table. "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done." Sam says.
"I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?" Dean cracks a joke.
"Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't havent to be for you," Sam says as tears fall down his cheeks. He was scared. "Who says I want too?" Asks Dean.
"What?" Sam asks. Dean turns his back to them and sighs, pulling out his gun. "I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job . . . this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it."
"So, what? So, you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with dad had —"
"You're wrong. It's not about dad. I mean, part of it is, sure —" Dean cuts him off.
"Then, what is it about?" Sam asks.
Outside the door they hear footsteps. Amanda knocks on the door and Dean unlocks it. "You better come see this," Dean and Sam follow Amanda outside where Bek, Mark and Duane stood. It was quiet. Too quiet.
"There's no one, anywhere. They've all just vanished." Amanda claims.
Hours later, they sat in the medical center. Amanda peered down into the small microscope, staring at Sam's blood cells. "Well, it's been five hours, and your bloods still clean. I don't understand it but I think you dodged a bullet." She looks back at Sam.
"But how? I was exposed. How could I not be infected?" Sam asks.
"I don't know, but you're just not. I mean, when you compare it with the Tanner samples — what the hell?" Amanda peers back into the tiny microscope. "Their blood — there's no trace of the virus. No sulfur. Nothing."
The next morning, Duane and Mark were packing up their belongings into the back of a truck. Amanda stands in the door watching them. "The Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here. Heading south. You should come." Duane says.
"I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me." Amanda says.
Mark and Duane wave goodbye to everyone. Bek, Sam, and Dean stood at the Impala. "What about him?" Bek asks, tilting her head toward Sam. "He's gonna be fine. No signs of infection." Amanda nods before she turns and walks back into the medical center:
Dean and Bek look at Sam. "Hey, man, don't look at me. I've got no clue." Sam says.
"I swear, i'm gonna lose sleep over this one," Dean comments. "I mean, why here? Why now? Where the hell did everybody go? It's not like they just freaking melted."
"Why was I immune?" Sam asks himself.
"Yeah, you know what. That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away." Dean says.
They get into the Impala and drive off. As they're driving, Bek can't help but think about how she almost lost two of the most important people in her life. Although there was nothing normal about hunting . . . she felt normal with it and with them. If she lost them, she'd be lost herself.
Mark and Duane are in the truck, driving along the road. "Do you mind pulling over up ahead there?" Duane asks, pointing. Mark nods and done as told. "I've got to make a call." Duane claims.
"No phone out here."
"I got it covered." Duane pulls out a small bowl and a knife.
"What the hell is that?" Mark asks and without hesitation, Duane reaches and pulls the knife across Marks neck, slicing it and placing the bowl underneath, catching as much blood as he could.
Duane sticks his hand inside the blood and makes a circle. The blood forms into a swirl pool. "It's over. You'll be pleased. I don't think any more tests are necessary. The Winchester boy — definitely immune as expected. Yes of course. Nothing left behind." Duane says and his eyes turn black.
edited on june 18th of 2022