Spn and TW Oneshots Book 2(CLOSED)

Bad time to be single part 3(Stam)

When Sam arrived at the address Stiles had text him, he knew immediately that something was off. Sliding the machete into his jacket pocket and made his way to the front door.

He knocked but there was no answer. Taking a moment to send up a small prayer, he reached for the handle. It gave way with a soft click. He stepped inside tentatively.

"Stiles?"

No answer.

"It's Sam, you here?"

Still nothing.

Sam made his way down the small hallway of the house. When he rounded the corner he saw Stiles passed out on the floor.

"Stiles," Sam made his way to the man's side.

Suddenly a large figure emerged from another room. Sam pulled the machete and swung just as Dalton leapt at him.

The machete sliced across the monster's neck with a sickening thwack.

Sam would never be used to the gore that came with hunting, He tossed the bloody machete aside and turned back to Stiles.

"Stiles," He shook the man gently, hoping he would awaken on his own.

Panic rose in Sam's chest as he dialed Dean.

"Hey, Sammy how'd it go?" Dean asked easily.

"Please tell me there is a cure for the poison," Sam begged as he checked for a pulse on Stiles. Thankfully there was one.

"Yeah, let me see what Garth said, hold on."

Sam brushed the sweat ridden hair from Stiles' forehead.

"Okay, so you need thistle weed and mertensia mixed in three tablespoons of water,"

"Where the hell am I supposed to get that?" Sam snapped. He didn't know his way around town.

"You said the place was crawling with supernatural, I'm sure someone knows where to get the stuff."

Sam huffed as he hung up the phone. He looked around the room as if something there might help. He wondered how much the sheriff knew. He didn't want to waste any more time so he pulled out the business card the officer had given him and dialed the sheriff's number.

"Sheriff Stilinski," The man's voice was nervous and maybe eager.

"Sheriff, my name is Sam Winchester, I'm currently at your son's house. He's been poisoned and I can help him but I need to know where to get Thistle weed and Mertensia," Sam held his breath. He didn't know how the man on the other end would handle the news.

"Allan Deaton," The man said in a quiet tone. "I'll text you his number he'll have what you need. I'll be there shortly."

The line went dead then, followed immediately by a phone number.

Sam called the number, not letting go of Stiles' hand.

"Hello?" A chipper voice answered.

"Allan Deaton?" Sam asked praying this man could help.

"I am."

"My name is Sam Winchester. The sheriff gave me your number. Stiles has been poisoned. I know the cure, but I need thistle weed and mertensia."

"He was poisoned by a lilu," the man hummed thoughtfully.

"Yes, yes, exactly," Sam felt relief flood him.

"I can bring you the anecdote, keep him cool, the colder his body temperature the longer it will take the poison to reach full potency. Where are you?" Deaton spoke kindly but urgently.