I Knew You'd Come

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SONCNICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here it is my present for you. I hope you'll enjoy it. I just can't believe it had been nearly a year since we met and become really close friends (and I thank to whoever is listening for every single day I get to enjoy your friendship). I can only hope for lots of more years togeher. You're a great friend. Please, don't change. Love ya Ally.

Rating: T

Summary: Dean Winchester wasn't angry. He was well past pissed. Somebody had took his brother and he was going to pay for it. Just wait. HurtSam and angry/protective Dean.

Spoilers: This story happenes in the first season. I don't think there's any spoilers, but I'm warning to be safe.

Warnings: In this story, there's lots of blood, cursing words, violence and some graphic details about injuries and torture. If you don't like this kind of things, please, don't read any further.

Disclaimers: I don't own anything!! All the things that you recognize belong to the show and its owner. I made this story for fun and not for money. The only thing I own is my dreams and my crazy imagination. I own Doctor Delis, his character is based on the best mentor I have ever had so far. He's one of the best doctors out there.

Author's note: I would like to thank Newspaper taxis for lots of things: For including me in this "challenge", for being my beta, for helping me to write the torture scene (God knows how bad I'm at them), for showing me the right way when I have lost myself in my crazy ideas. And the most important thing, for putting up with me and my thousand mails and for having faith in me. You've been great this week and I hope that we can keep the contact and get to know each other best.

THANK YOU!

Now with the story..........

Dean Winchester, one of the best hunters of the supernatural out there and awesome big brother, was quite angry. Well, not just angry, he was well past pissed, to say the least. He hasn't had a good week and something, or, preferably, someone was going to pay for it.

It all started when he and Sammy had to drive over 300 miles to get to the coordinates their missing father had sent them again, Sam sulking and ranting about their father's methods every inch of the way. Don't get him wrong...the kid meant the world to him, but all of this shit between them was getting a bit old and he was sick and tired of being the one stuck smack in the middle, forced to choose sides.

Then, he had spent a couple of days locked in their motel room at a small boring town. For Heaven's sakes, Three thousand inhabitants and not even one bar. Seriously? Dean had griped while they conducted some research. It seemed that something was abducting people and torturing people to death. Then, the corpses appeared without any blood left in them.

After all that, they had to go through the forest for hours under the blazing sun, sweating like pigs, looking for the forest spirit that was responsible of all of this.

And it all culminated when he made the mistake of splitting up with Sam hoping to ambush it. Only the "it" had been a "he," in the form of a crazy, sadistic wizard who was waiting for them. Everything had been a trap and by the time Dean had realised his mistake, his brother was gone.

So, yeah, he was pissed and that fugly was going to pay, you just wait.

Now, a day and a half later, and still no sign of his brother, Dean was fuming while going through the forest following the strange symbols carved in the trees and rocks. He was hoping they would lead him to the ritual place where he could find Sammy. Alive.

He was once again contemplating how he was going to rip apart every limb of that bastard when he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Something that froze his blood and make his heart drop to somewhere in his stomach.

Something so painful that made him want to curl up in a ball and howl.

It was a scream, but not any scream. It was Sammy's. Loud, terrified, and full of pain.

And he was calling for the only thing he needed in that moment.

"DEAAANNNN!!!!!!!"

Then, silence fell upon the forest.

And Dean ran.

Sam Winchester was way past hungry or thirsty or feeling pain. He had been hanging from this tree for God only knew how long and now he just didn't care anymore. Even his bloody wrists and dry cracked lips didn't bother him anymore. He knew he was going to die, it was only a matter of time.

That man—or if you can still call him human after knowing what he does—had appeared from nowhere, knocked him unconscious and dragged him to this clearing with a lonely tree in the dead center of it. And after hanging him by his wrists, he just disappeared, leaving the young man under the blazing sun.

He had thought that he was just going to wait for his brother to come to the rescue. But he had been wrong.

So wrong.

When the wizard returned, some time later, all hell broke loose.

Sam would never remember, later, exactly how the wizard got into the space. One minute the clearing was empty, the next, the robed, hooded man was standing a whisper away from him. Silently, the wizard reached up a hand and broke off a branch from the tree. Taking several steps away from him, the wizard suddenly whirled, swinging the branch like a baseball bat. It smashed into Sam, the force of the blow taking all of his breath away, and splintered. Gasping, blinking grey from his vision, Sam knew that he had felt something more than the branch break, that his side was now radiating red-hot pain.

"Why?" He breathed out, struggling to understand.

The wizard said nothing and just tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. When he pulls them out, they are bright with fire and Sam screamed as the flaming hands pressed against his torso. Then nothing…

But the evil bastard didn't stop there. No, first he brought Sam back to awareness by dumping a bucket of cold water over his head. Sputtering and gasping, still feeling the effects of the broken ribs and subsequent burning, Sam was lucid enough to notice on the long, skinny, black whip in the wizard's hand. But Sam was so focused on trying to manage the pain that he was barely conscious of the hot, hard whip singing in the air before it landed on his open back, slicing it open and causing excruciating pain with each impact. Sam had no idea how many he withstood—Three? Five? Ten?—before plunging into the sweet, merciful darkness of unconsciousness.

When the wizard grew tired of the game, he just left, leaving Sam bloody and weak. As night fell, Sam shivered in the merciless cold brought by the rising moon, his only company.

Sam passed the next day all alone under the unforgiving sun, praying to God that Dean had a plan and was coming because he didn't know how much more he could endure. But there was no answer and the wizard came back at nightfall with a sharp silver dagger with him.

At that moment, Sam lowered his head, resigning himself to his fate. But the wizard hadn't finished with him yet. Now, that psychopath was carving some signs in his chest and belly while his blood poured from his body and pooled under his feet. All the time, he was chanting something in a strange language.

Despite the hot knife, Sam refused to scream and give the wizard the pleasure of knowing how much he was hurting him. He was a Winchester and Winchesters always went down fighting and with dignity. Sam could feel himself rapidly fading, bright spots dancing in front of his vision, and he thought of the one person who would save him.

Dean. His big brother.

That thought make him smile a little despite the blinding pain he was in.

"What are you smiling about, boy?" the wizard had finished his chanting and was now looking intently at him.

"My brother."

"He's not going to arrive in time. There's nothing or nobody that can stop me."

"It doesn't matter. He'll come, and when he gets here he's going to rip you apart." Sam paused to draw a painful breath and, then, a childhood memory popped up in his mind, feeding his last forces, "He's Batman." And he gave the wizard the patented sarcastic Winchester smirk.

"You can smile all you want boy, but I'm finished here and once I have spilled all of your tainted blood in this sacred ground, the devil that inhabits this forest will recompense me."

Suddenly, the wizard stabbed Sam in his left shoulder, thrusting it to the hilt, twisting it, and finally drawing it out slowly. Immediately, a thick river of dark blood began to leave the young hunter's body while the puddle of blood at his feet spread with each passing second. The pain that filled him was so intense that his last defences crumbled down. So, in his last moment, before consciousness fully left him, the only thing that Sam could do was release a last cry for help:

"DEAAANNNN!!!!"

And darkness claimed him.

When Dean arrived at the opening, he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing: Sam, unconscious and hanging from a tree by his wrists, feet not touching the ground, covered in more blood that he had ever seen and that son of a bitch with a dagger in his hand ready to give the fatal blow.

And Dean saw red.

"You son of a BITCH! Get the hell away from my brother!"

The older hunter threw himself at the wizard, his only goal was to kill the bastard who had hurt—not killed, because he couldn't stand the idea of being too late—his little brother.

The two men began a long and merciless fight, one with a bloody dagger in one hand and other with nothing but his bare hands—he didn't need anything else. There were punches, kicks, cuts. For a time, the two were evenly matched, but, with a well aimed thrust at the wizard's nose, the crunch of bone, the dagger switched hands and was now in the power of one very furious big brother. One thing was sure; the now bloody and trembling wizard had never known a rage like that.

"Please..." he begged, but it was no use, the hunter wasn't having anything to do with it.

"Nobody hurts my brother." And with that, Dean stuck the dagger deep in the wizard's heart, the fugly dead before he hit the ground.

Now that the threat was over, a new adrenaline rush hit Dean like a punch followed by a wave of panic.

"Sammy!"

He took off his leather jacket and laid it on the ground near where his brother was hanging and then he approached his still form, not knowing if he was still alive. He cut the ropes and lowered him down to the ground gently, lying him on the jacket so his sliced back wouldn't touch the dirt, all the time muttering softly his brother name over and over again.

"Sammy, Sam, Sammy..."

The older brother would have almost liked to take him in his arms and cradle him like he did when they were really little and Sammy was sick or scared, but his brother's injuries required immediate attention and if he was rocking him in his arms, they couldn't be treated properly.

Pressing his fingers to Sam's pulse point, Dean prayed silently to whoever was listening that he haven't been too late, and for the first time in a long time someone had been listening because he could feel the faint and way too fast pulse. That meant his brother was going to shock, but at least he was alive.

Then, visually assessing his brother, he began cataloguing Sam's injuries, trying to work efficiently without giving into the growing panic. If he hesitated, his brother would die. Dean was very sure of it.

God, there's so many injuries and so much blood...please Sammy, don't leave me, not like this, not just after finding you, please... Dean thought while he tried to decide where to start.

The most obvious being the stab wound on the left shoulder. The older hunter didn't think it had hit anything vital, but it was bleeding like hell, so he stripped off his flannel overshirt, ripped it apart and wadded it and pressed it hard on the wound with one hand hoping to stop the blood flow. This last action made Sam groan and his eyes slid open, vague and unfocused.

"Shhh tiger, it's OK. I gotcha. I'm here, OK?"

"De..." a coughing fit interrupted him, and Dean tried to steady him so he wouldn't injure himself further "Dean, don't leave me please."

That simple plea broke the older brother's heart and threaten to bring tears to his eyes, but he blinked them back. Dean Winchester didn't cry specially if his brother needed him, so he tried to soothe him, running a hand across his hair while with the other one was still applying pressure.

"I'm here Sammy. I'm right here OK? You're not alone anymore."

"Hhhuurts..."

"I know, but I'm gonna stop the bleeding ok? So be still and stay with me. No sleeping on the job, OK?"

His brother only nodded, too weak to do or to say anything more and he tried bravely to stay awake, but with each passing minute, Sam's eyes became glassier and less focused. Five minutes later, blood loss and pain overwhelmed his system and he lost consciousness again. The only signs Dean had that his brother was still alive were his raspy breath and his weak, thready and way-too-fast pulse.

"Hey. Come on, wake up." He tried to rouse his brother, but Sam was out for the count.

Meanwhile, thanks to the pressure Dean was exerting on the wound, the bleeding has nearly stopped so he tied the shirt, using the sleeves as a tourniquet, to Sam's shoulder, so not to disturb the scab that was forming on the wound. The other injuries had already stopped by their own, so the bruises, cuts and burns were non-life-threatening and could wait until Dean got them to a more suitable place. The only other serious injury was Sam's back, it was a mess with lots of cuts that criss-crossed every bit of his skin, several of them deep enough to need stitches, but there wasn't anything the older hunter could do about it right now.

When he finished everything he could do he sat his brother up against his chest and covered him with his now bloody, leather jacket to conserve Sam's body heat and to prevent the progressing shock, because Sammy was already shivering, pale and sweaty.

Then he picked him up in his arms and began the way back to the Impala. It was time to leave this hell behind them so Dean could seek medical help and look after Sam. Dean was very aware that Sam was still very hurt, but he was sure he was going to be okay. He had to.

The journey back to the car was painful and difficult for both brothers because with every step Dean took, Sammy let out a gasp or a moan which dug deep into Dean's very core. But, the older hunter was determined to get his sibling out, so he picked a steady pace and never hesitated, Sam's weight and height no longer an inconvenience.

Finally, they arrived to the Impala, still parked and waiting on the side of the road, where Dean had left it.

Dean laid his brother gently on the backseat, placing Sam onto his back. He was aware that this position was probably painful given the cuts there, but it was the best he could do. Then, he grabbed a blanket from the trunk and proceeded to put it on top of his leather jacket to try to warm Sam up. He's shivering so badly...

When he was sure Sam was safe inside the car, Dean slid into the driver seat and started the engine, ready to drive as fast as he can to the nearest hospital or clinic. He would usually take care of the injuries by himself but Sam lost a lot of blood and it was possible that he had internal injuries from whatever the wizard did and those were something Dean did not want to mess around with.

Just as he was starting to drive the car a horrible reality about their situation struck him so hard that left him gasping and he had to stop the car.

There were neither hospitals nor clinics in at least 75 miles. Only rural doctors, because they were in the middle of nowhere.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, he's gonna die. Dean was beginning to seriously freak out as he was listening to his brother laboured breath. He can't go that far in the state he's in, he's too weak. Shit! What do I do now? God he's gonna die.

Dean was losing it and panic was blinding him, so for a moment he felt so lost and desperate that the only thing he wanted to do was curl up beside his brother and wait for death to claim both of them.

Get a grip, Dean. Sam needs you.

Dean didn't know where that thought came from, but it sounded a lot like his father's voice and it gave him the calm and security he didn't think he had anymore.

OK. It's OK. Take a breath. This panic isn't helping either of us.

Dean restarted the car as he made his mind and took off so fast that it seemed that every demon that existed were chasing them.

"Hang on. I'm going to get you some help, OK?" he was talking out loud more to calm his nerves than to his brother who was deeply unconscious and fighting so hard to keep breathing.

"I'm going to look after you now, all right? Don't worry. I gotcha."

Although the reassuring words fell on deaf ears, Dean kept driving as fast as his baby let him.

TBC

Here it goes the first chapter. The second part will be up in a few days. Please, review. Your opinions make me HAPPY.

Ally