Closer: Bay City Paranormal Investigation, Book 4

fear seeped away. “In the living quarters. The last room on the east end. There’s a little closet-sized room off to the side.”
“I know the place, Andre and I were there last night. I’m on my way.” Dean was already shouting instructions to Andre before the radio cut off.
As Sam set the radio on the floor beside the camera, Bo stirred in his arms. Brown eyes blinked and snapped into focus. Bo glanced around, looking confused. “Sam? Why are we on the floor?”
Sam smiled, dizzy with relief. “You passed out. Scared the crap out of me.”
Bo’s brow furrowed. “But why would I—?” He stopped, understanding dawning on his face. “Oh. I remember now.”
“You had one of those visions, didn’t you?” Sam stroked a stray lock of ebony hair from Bo’s face. “Are you okay? What did you see this time?”
“That’s not what happened. I just suddenly felt really weak and dizzy. Maybe I’m coming down with a virus or something. I feel a little feverish, actually.” Bo sat up, one arm winding around Sam’s shoulders. “Help me up?”
Sam stared into Bo’s eyes. Bo’s gaze skittered away, telling Sam all he needed to know. Bo had always been a terrible liar.
Then again, Bo had always been a terrible patient as well. Maybe he just didn’t want Sam to see how bad he actually felt.
Not that that scenario was any more comforting.
“Stay there,” Sam ordered. “Dean’s on his way, let him check you over before you try to do anything.”
Bo shook his head, but didn’t argue. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m not sure my legs’ll hold me up at the moment.”
Concerned, Sam laid a hand on Bo’s forehead. The skin was damp with sweat and surprisingly hot. Maybe it really is just a virus. A fever can make you feel pretty weird.
It was almost enough to convince Sam he was wrong. Almost. The juxtaposition of the ominous psychic disturbance he’d just experienced with Bo’s most recent lapse in consciousness practically screamed danger.
Footsteps pounded through the doorway of the larger room at Sam’s back. Dean came flying into the little room and dropped to his knees beside Bo. “Hey,” he panted. “Sam said you passed out. What happened?”
“Sam and I were…” Bo glanced at Sam, his expression unreadable. “We were talking. And I suddenly felt very weak, nauseated and dizzy. I knew I was about to pass out, but I couldn’t seem to move. Luckily, Sam caught me before I could fall.”
Pursing his lips, Dean shone his flashlight on Bo’s face. “You look flushed. How do you feel now?”
“Still weak. Shaky. But not sick or dizzy anymore.”
Dean pressed two fingers to Bo’s wrist. “Your pulse is awfully rapid.”
“He said he felt feverish,” Sam supplied. “He does feel pretty warm to me.”
“Hm.” Dean held the backs of his fingers to Bo’s forehead. “Yeah, you definitely feel like you have a fever.”
“So you think that may have been what caused me to pass out?” Bo’s gaze remained fixed on Dean, but his hand crept onto Sam’s knee and gave a comforting squeeze.
Dean shrugged. “It’s certainly possible. If you’re coming down with a virus, that on top of the run in the heat this morning and being out in the sun most of the afternoon could have dehydrated you enough to cause a syncopal spell.”
“A what now?” Sam asked, confused.
“Passing out.” Bo rubbed his thumb over the curve of Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sure that’s exactly what happened. All I need is some fluids and a little rest, and I should be fine.”
Sam laid his hand over Bo’s. “Should he go back to the house, Dean? I know it would set y’all back some, but maybe someone could drive Bo and me back. I could stay with him.”
“There’s no need for that,” Bo protested. “I could stay at the table and monitor the remote cameras via the laptop. I feel okay sitting down.”
Sam still itched to get Bo out of the fort, but the need to leave didn’t feel as urgent as it had a few minutes ago. Plus, he had a feeling trying to talk Bo into going back to the house would cause another argument, and instinct told him he needed to avoid anger between them right now. Whatever it was that had prodded at the margins of his psychic senses a little while ago, it had seemed somehow connected to the anger and frustration spiraling out of control inside him.
It reminded him too much of Oleander House for comfort. Just because he hadn’t accidentally opened a portal since then didn’t mean