John hurried to the hospital after receiving a text from Dean. He was pacing the corridors of the hospital. He had asked the receptionist if his sons were brought in but she told him that no teenagers, no one matching Sam's or Dean's description were brought in but she told him that they were bringing in someone and he could stay and wait. So that's what John had been doing. Waiting. Calling Dean's cell. Cursing and silently going nuts.
The doors of the ER opened and a gurney was pushed in. One look was all it took for John to know that it was his eldest.
"DEAN!" John quickly made his way over to the gurney. Dean's face was a mess. One eye swollen shut. Bruises and blood covering his entire face.
"Sir." Someone was pulling on John's arm.
"That's my son. Please. What about my other son?" The paramedics exchanged glances.
"Sir, we only found him. He was unconscious when we found him. There was no one else there."
"Dean, where's Sammy? Dean!" John asked his unconscious son.
"Sir, he's been unconscious the whole ride. He's showing signs of internal injuries and he's got a concussion, possible skull fracture."
Dean could hear people talk but couldn't make out the words. Nor did he recognize the voices. He had no idea what happened. Something was wrong. Where was Sammy? He heard a familiar voice. Dad. His dad asked him something. And he said his name in his drill instructor voice and Dean wanted to comply. He really did but found his body uncooperative.
"Dammit Dean, open your eyes. NOW!" That got a reaction out of Dean. He started to stir and opened his eye. His eye was glassy and unfocused. It kept drooping but Dean was trying.
"Da'." Dean's voice was weak and sounded so different.
"Dean, what happened?"
"D'no." Dean's speech was heavily slurred.
"Where's Sam?" Dean thought long and hard but he couldn't reach that memory. He saw flashes.
"Sir, we need to check him out. His blood pressure is low. His breathing is not good. His heart rate is fast."
"But I need to know where my other son is." John said his voice steady and commanding but the doctor clearly did not give a crap 'cause they started wheeling Dean away.
Dean was wracking his brain. A face. Sam yelling. Someone took Sam.
"S'my. Da'." Dean yelled. And John was by his side in an instant.
"Dean?" His hand clawed at John's arm.
"T'k S'm." Dean's words were barely understandable.
"Who took Sam?" John demanded to know.
"Sr'y." Dean was tired. He wanted to close his eyes, eye? Slip back into that blissful unconsciousness.
"It's okay Dean. Who took your brother?" John's tone became softer.
"Hunt'r"
"A hunter took Sam? Someone we know?"
"No. sr'y." The last word was heavily slurred and Dean's eyes rolled back in their sockets and alarms started wailing.
"He's crashing." They quickly walked away while someone straddled Dean's legs giving him CPR.
"No Dean." John wanted to follow but was stopped by a nurse flanked by a security guard.
"You'll have to stay here and fill out these forms." She handed him the forms and pen. John took it and slid into one of the chairs. Someone took Sam. He buried his face in his hands. He must've sat there for at least fifteen minutes when someone started talking to him.
"Sir?" John raised his head. "Hi my name is sheriff Hudson. Your son was brought in severely injured. We also heard that someone else is missing. Your other son?" The sheriff introduced himself.
"Euh, yeah. Sam." John was a little shell shocked. Seeing Dean like that nearly brought him to his knees.
"How old is Sam?" The sheriff asked.
"Fourteen."
"Can you think of anyone who would want to do you or your sons harm?" John thought about that. Yeah, there are like a million fuglies who would want to harm us. We're hunters and we hunt everything supernatural. But actual people? A fellow hunter? No, after Anderson no other hunter showed up with a particular interest in Sam.
"No sir. I can't think of anyone. I mean because of my work I travel around a lot so we're not anywhere long enough to make enemies." John said.
"We'll continue the search for your son and see if we can find anything. We hope your son pulls through. If there is anything you can think of that might help please let us know." John nodded. He was trembling badly. He made his way over to the chairs and collapsed into one. He couldn't think. Sammy was missing, Dean was at death's door. This wasn't supposed to happen. The boys just went to get something to eat. John shook his head and buried his face in his hands. John had no idea where to look for his youngest. Dean's condition was worrying in itself. His son stopped breathing when they whisked him away. The sheriff told him that someone called 911. He asked if they found Dean's cellphone but the sheriff said that they didn't find anything. John asked where they found the car. Abandoned along the side of the road with no houses in a 20-mile radius. John was losing it. So he called Bobby. Panicked and not making a lick of sense. Bobby yelled at him for being an idjit and something about shooting his ass full of rock salt. John didn't care and Bobby promised him he was on the way. John glanced at his watch.
Two hours passed before someone came to talk to John about Dean. Something about internal bleeding, broken ribs, cracked skull, severe concussion possible brain damage, collapsed lung and other things but John couldn't listen anymore. He just wanted to see Dean. Numb from the pain and worry they led him to the ICU. Dean was barely recognizable. A large tube shoved down his throat. More bandages than John had ever seen, covered basically every piece of skin. He noticed the cast on his left hand. The bruises on his face were swollen and changing to an angry color purple. This person looked nothing like Dean. And tears were rolling down John's cheek. He wanted to touch Dean so badly but every inch of skin was covered in bruises. His knuckles were bruised and swollen. Whoever attacked Dean was sporting bruises of his own. John sat down on the chair and covered Dean's right hand with his own.
"God Mary. What happened to our boys?" He whispered softly.
