A hunt gone wrong is set to change Sam's life forever...
I do not own Supernatural
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Sam lay in Dean's arms... a dead weight.
"Hey Sammy, you with me?"
"S..sure. Sure."
"Good. Great buddy, you keep talking okay?"
"He... he got me, huh?"
"Yeah, Sammy. He did. I'm sorry, I..."
"Don't... don't say that"
"Yeah, well... "
"You...you get him...after? "
"No, buddy. I will do. Just... when you're better, okay?"
"The bullet... is..is it deep?"
"Na. He scratched ya. I'll patch you up."
"Yeah. Sure. So..so you called 911 for a... scratch?"
"Yeah, well. It's been a while since I saw anything apart from your ugly mug. Need me some pretty nurses, Sammy. Perfect excuse."
"Uh huh."
It had been a slip-up. A minor slip-up that had escalated all too quickly. Dean out of bullets. Sam being heroic. A shot in the lower back meant for Dean. By a fellow hunter with a grudge, no less. There was a frightening amount of blood which looked far too dark next to the white of Sam's face.
None of the details seemed to matter... not even the bastard who had run as quickly as he had shot. All that mattered was Sam. Everything else could wait.
Sam suddenly let out an involuntary scream.
"Hey, hey, hey... buddy, I got you, okay. I got you." Dean willed his hands to stop shaking.
"Oh God, it... it hurts, it hurts, oh shit..." Sam's face scrunched up in pain.
Dean grasped frantically at Sam's back. Why had the pain suddenly become so intense? Was the bullet moving? Where the hell was the ambulance?
"Shhhhh" Dean rocked Sam softly, trying to keep the catch out of his voice. "Shh, it's okay, you're going to be okay, I promise...you hear me, Sammy? I promise."
Sam continued to scream. Dean continued to make soothing sounds and rock his brother, one hand on the flowing bullet wound, feeling completely helpless. If he could have transferred the bullet into his own back at that minute, he would have done. It took all his strength not to cry himself and throw up the contents of his stomach.
"Sam? Sammy? Just look at me okay?"
Tears and sweat spilled down Sam's face but his eyes tried to focus on Dean's.
"That's it, that's good Sammy, really good. You hear me okay?"
Sam's teeth were chattering now and Dean could feel his little brother's body begin to jerk involuntarily. Despite it all, Sam's eyes locked on Dean, wide and frightened.
A little brother.
How long does a freaking ambulance take?
Sam was jerking, he could no longer could keep eye contact with Dean and Dean wasn't even sure Sam could hear him anymore... pain had taken his brother over.
No matter how many times he saw his brother like this... the fear, the desperation... it never got any easier. Yet this time... what else could Dean do to save his brother? And would Sam forgive him if he made another deal, risked another life?
Something about this time... it seemed final.
Dean leaned forward, his mouth by Sam's ear.
"Don't you leave me, jackass, you hear? Don't you dare... don't you freaking dare."
Sam had become quiet. His body had stopped jerking and an almost peaceful expression passed over his traumatised face. He grabbed at Dean's hands.
"Dean?" a tear traced its way down Sam's face.
"Hey, hey..." Dean brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. "You back with me?"
"Dean..."
"I'm here, Sammy. I can hear the sirens. They'll kick some morphine into ya. You'll be flying."
"Dean... I... I can't feel my legs."
