Dean woke up in the backseat of his Impala. He tried to put together the broken pieces of his memory of how he had gotten there.
The boys had rescued their Dad from the demons. They had gone to hide in some shack way out in the boonies hoping to be safe from The Demon; but it had been a trap. The Demon had possessed their father and tricked them. The same demon that they had hunted all of their lives- The Demon. It had asked Dean for the colt and he almost gave it to it, but something inside him had said no. Something in his gut told him that this wasn't right, this wasn't his father and it had been right. 'Oh God,' he thought. John was going to be furious that he hadn't followed his instincts and shot the demon, he'd hesitated. 'Damn it,' he thought to himself. Rule number one, shoot first, ask questions later. The next thing he remembered was bleeding; a lot. He pleaded with his father to regain control but he couldn't, or did he? Dean couldn't remember, he thought he had heard a familiar tone in John's voice, but it was soon gone. Dean remembered hearing a shot fired and he felt himself fall. Sam rushed over to him to check him, he was barely alive let alone conscious. The only thought he had was to check Dad.
"Oh, God, you've lost a lot of blood," Sam said as he examined Dean.
Sam seemed more concerned with Dean than with their father. Dean had to struggle to speak. He needed Sam to check John more than Sam needed to check himself.
"Go check on him," he ordered weakly. Sam tried to protest a little but was interrupted.
"Please, go check on him," Dean was barely holding on, but he needed to know his Dad was alright.
Dean was barely awake enough to hear his father to beg Sam to shoot him. Dean remembered saying no, but it only came as a whisper. Like him, his brother hesitated and then he lowered the gun. Sam couldn't do it. The room suddenly began to spin and he heard his father let out an agonizing scream. And then it was dark.
Suddenly he was here, in the backseat, Dean heard his favorite tape playing, the one Sam hated the most. He must have been carried to the Impala while he was out. He looked up into the rearview mirror as he heard his father scold Sam for not killing the demon when he had the chance. He saw Sam shoot a worried glance into the mirror. A look of relief crossed his face when he saw that Dean was awake, if you could call it that, "No sir, not before everything." Dean listened to the words that were being exchanged in the front seat and then... nothing. Just the darkness of unconsciousness that was too familiar lately.
His head was still swimming with all of this information and he needed to rest. Trying to remember everything was giving him a bigger headache than the one he already had. Dean fought against the need to sleep, but quickly lost the battle.
Dean awoke minutes later to the sound of sirens. His strength was slowly returning, that little nap seemed to do wonders for him. He got out of the car, and strangely he was the only one left in it. He looked back at his car and said one thing, "I'm gonna kill him for this." He then turned back around and saw Sam with a bag of ice stuck to his head come out of the ambulance. 'Thank God,' he thought when he saw that his baby brother was no worse for the wear. Then he noticed the stretcher where his Dad was.
Sam walked over to his father as quickly as his body would allow. John looked up at him with concern.
"Are you all right Sammy?" he said hoarsely.
"I'm fine Dad, I'm alright. Don't worry about me, worry about yourself," he quickly assured. After a pause he smiled and said, "After all, in case you didn't notice, you have a bullet still in your leg and not to mention that a semi-truck just sat on top of you." John let out a small chuckle, but it was too painful.
"I want you to stay with your brother, no matter what," he managed to get out before the paramedics put an oxygen mask over his face. John then blacked out.
"Yes sir," Sam said. He wasn't going to disappoint his father again.
Dean walked over to where his brother was standing. He noticed that there was another ambulance for the trucker and he was on a stretcher a few feet away. Sam was looking down on John with concern and worry.
"Sam?" Dean asked to try and assess his brother's mental state.
No response.
"Sammy?" Dean said. But then he looked down at the man on the stretcher. He had to look away. There was so much blood on his face where the oxygen mask and tubes didn't cover the face. 'Sam is going to be messed up for a long time,' he thought.
Dean walked over and put his hand on Sam's to try and calm him ; he could tell that he was worried just by how tense he seemed.
Sam jumped when he felt something touch his hand, but quickly turned his attention back to the figure on the stretcher.
"We need to go now, will you be riding with us?" a paramedic asked.
"Yes," Dean and Sam said in unison.
They climbed into the back of the ambulance and left the horrible scene.
In the ambulance, some of Dean's injuries started to catch up with him. He felt light headed and his body started to ache just a little. He quickly pushed it into the back of his mind. He had bigger problems. Suddenly they heard the heart monitor flat line.
Sam's eyes grew wide as he grabbed his hand and yelled, "No! Don't you do this! You can't leave, not yet."
"Dad!" Dean yelled, as the paramedics started CPR.
He saw Sam look up at him and for a moment Dean saw fear in his brother's eyes. The monitor started to beep again and Sam looked back down. They finally arrived at the hospital and went into the waiting room. Dean left Sam to give all of the medical information and fill out the forms required. Sam was always better at coming up with stories to explain injuries. Dean knew that a gunshot wound couldn't just be passed off as an accident. The hospital would be required to report it to the police.
Sam filled out the medical forms quietly. He flipped through the various fake insurance cards for the newest. He wasn't going to add insurance fraud to his list of worries. It was all good until he had to explain the gunshot wound. And then it came to him.
Are there any injuries that involve a weapon? Yes
If yes, please explain. Hunting accident.
Sam almost laughed a little at that; it was as close to the truth that he could get. He handed in the forms and settled in the waiting room.
A few hours later, a nurse came out through the doors and called "Salpeter?"
Dean watched as Sam stood, he had wondered what name Sam had given the hospital.
Sam and Dean didn't speak to each other while they were in the waiting room together. In truth, Dean didn't know what to say to Sam, 'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'Sammy probably has a lot to process right now.'
They headed over to the nurse together.
"He's still unconscious, now but you can go and see him if you want," the nurse said softly.
"Do you know when he's going to wake up yet?" Sam asked anxiously.
"No, he has a long road ahead of him, but we think that the worst is over."
Sam let out a relieved sigh and they followed the nurse into a small room.
Dean walked in the hospital room and saw a spectacular array of machines and monitors.
"It's not as bad as it looks," the nurse assured. "He's breathing on his own and he has a steady heartbeat. I'll give you some time to be alone before I send the doctor in."
"Thank you," Dean said as she left.
Dean sat in the corner and watched his brother as Sam pulled up a chair next to the bed and held his hand gently.
Dean didn't approach the bed. He couldn't look at his father's face, not like that in his weak state. He had never seen his father injured this badly and although he didn't show it, it scared him. Even if he could bring himself to face his father, what would he say? That was always Sam's specialty. Sam always knew what to say. He was the catalyst for every chick flick moment in their family. Dean avoided them at all costs.
So he sat and watched and listened as Sam began to speak.
"Please," is what Sam finally said after a few moments.
"I know we haven't always gotten along or seen eye to eye," Sam paused, "And we've had our disagreements in the past, but you have to wake up."
Dean laughed a little at the statement, disagreements! That was the understatement of the year, they had wars.
After a pause he saw his brother look away from his hand and into the man's face and say, "I need you."
Dean sat up at this, he had waited to hear Sam say that for years. He knew Sam needed his father, but never in his life had Sam admitted to it.
"If you wake up," Sam gulped at what he was about to say, "If you wake up," he said the next part slowly and deliberately, "I give you my word that I will hunt with you until there's nothing left to hunt."
And with that Sam put his head down and Dean remained silent, shocked at what his brother had just promised. Sam was going to give up the thing he wanted most for this family.
Hours later, the doctor had come and gone and explained the entire situation to them. Dean didn't listen to a word though, neither did Sam he thought as he looked over and saw Sam's eyes glaze over. He never really could pay attention to long speeches anyways. Dean followed the doctor out. He needed to walk a little, figure things out, or at least stretch his legs that had started to cramp.
Dean was also anxious to leave because he knew it wouldn't be long before the police showed up. He figured it might be a little awkward because he's legally dead and has been wanted for murder.
Sam met with the police a little while after the doctor left.
"I'm sorry, but it's protocol. We have to fill out a report with gunshot wounds," the officer said.
"It's alright, I understand," Sam paused and looked back to the bed, "It's just... Can we make this quick?"
"Of course, just start off by telling me who shot your father," he instructed.
"I did," Sam said quietly with his head down, "But like I said before, it was an accident."
"What were you doing when this happened?" he asked.
"My brother and I, we were hunting," Sam paused to think of what to say next, "It was supposed to be just us and Dad was going to stay in the cabin..." He forced his voice to break a little at this. Sam deserved an Oscar for this performance.
"But he came out to find you didn't he?" the officer asked.
"Yeah," Sam was making it up as he went and was willing to use anything, "I knew where Dean was and he startled me when he came out in front of me... I must have shot him then. The next thing I remember is driving to the hospital..."
"It's ok. It looks like you have a small head injury. It might take a while to put the pieces together," the officer assured.
"Anything else?" Sam asked hoping that the officer would believe his lie.
"No, I believe you. I think it's safe to say that we're done here," the officer said as he got up to leave.
As soon as the officer was gone Sam let out a sigh of relief. He now focused all of his worry on his family. 'Damn it, why couldn't I have paid more attention to the road,' he thought to himself.
"I can do one thing right at least," Sam said as he reached for his duffel bag and grabbed the salt. He carefully lifted the lid and made a ring around the bed.
Dean looked around. He found the vending machines but he wasn't hungry. He was still beating himself up about not shooting the demon, if he had just followed his instincts, none of this would have happened.
"Damn it," he said in vain. He gave a frustrated punch into the wall that made everyone nearby jump and look up. Dean walked away embarrassed and angry.
He started walking back to the hospital room and noticed a beautiful woman sitting next to an elderly man's bedside. She had green eyes and brown hair, it reminded Dean of milk chocolate, she wore a white sun dress that looked good on top of her tan. 'Probably her grandfather,' he thought to himself. He watched her for a moment and the look on her face as she held his hand. She looked so sad, and then Dean noticed that the heart monitor connected to the man was on mute and he had flat lined and passed. She looked up at Dean and he was suddenly embarrassed, she had a look of shock in her eyes and Dean realized that he had intruded on a deeply personal moment for her. He quickly turned away and continued walking back to the room. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that racked his brain.
When he arrived in the room he noticed that Sam had salted around the bed and he was now reading a magazine with a fresh ice pack against his head.
"Why didn't I think of that?" Dean scolded himself. The salt would keep any demons from possessing Dad while he was unconscious and it would keep his spirit from wandering. Dean stomped over to his chair, it was his job to look out for the family and what had he done instead? He had gone out for a little stroll. 'Good job genius,' he thought. He watched as Sam seemed to be getting a headache, but it quickly passed as Dean's anger turned to concern.
Dean was really starting to worry about Sam. They hadn't really spoken a word to each other, they had a lot on their minds. It wasn't like Sam to be this quiet.
Sam looked at his magazine, he wasn't really reading it as much as he was looking at the various ads and pictures absent mindedly. He thought he heard the door open but he didn't look up. He had a huge headache, but he was thankful that it was just a headache and not another vision. He comforted himself with the idea of how Dean was going to kill him for messing up the Impala when this was all over. He put the magazine down to go back to the side of the bed.
Although he didn't show it, he worried about his Dad. He kept replaying their last conversation in his head.
"I want you to stay with your brother, no matter what," is what he'd last said to Sam and so far, he had kept his promise. Sam looked at the clock on the wall and he realized that he hadn't slept and it had almost been a full day since his father had said those words to him. Sam was beginning to miss the sound of his father's voice and wondered when he'd get to hear it again. Sam knew that John wasn't in great shape, but neither was Dean. Sam had fought off sleep as long as he could, but it finally over took him as he almost collapsed back into the hard chair.
Dean watched his brother go back to the chair and instantly fall asleep.
"Good," he said to himself glad that Sam was finally getting some sleep. "Now all I have to do is get him to eat," Dean worried. He knew that Sammy didn't eat when he was caught up in everything and stressed. 'How did he ever survive finals at Stanford?' He thought to himself half laughing.
Dean leaned back into the chair to get some rest.
He was startled hours later to hear the signs of Sam having a nightmare.
"Rise and shine Sammy," he said to his brother, but that didn't wake him and the nightmare only got worse.
Dean got up and walked over to Sam and said, "Wake up Sammy," as he put his hand to Sam's head.
A wave of dizziness caught Dean suddenly and he fell to the floor. He quickly stood up but he realized that he was no longer in the same room. Something caught the corner of his eye, it was Sam. He watched through the window as Sam was at his father's bedside, he was trying to say something but all that came out was, "Dean," in a voice that cracked. Dean looked and saw that his father was awake. The looks on their faces were one's of complete sorrow and sadness.
Suddenly, Sam stood and left the room nearly running into Dean.
"What the hell is going on here?" Dean said surprised and confused.
Sam quickly turned on his heels to face Dean and a look of shock was on his face.
"DEAN?" he yelled. He lost his balance fell to his knees.
Dean rushed over to his brother and held him. "What's wrong Sam?"
Sam looked up at Dean. His face was grave as he said, "Dean, your supposed to be dead, you died fighting a demon that tried to possess me," he paused before he added, "God I'm sorry. Dean, it's all my fault if I had just-," he was cut off but Dean.
"What are you talking about? I'm here, I'm fine," he quickly assured Sam.
It was then that Dean realized where he was, he was in Sam's dream.
"Sammy!" Dean tried to get Sam to look at him again, "Sam you gotta listen to me," he said. He tilted Sam's chin up to force his gaze. "Are you listening?"
"Yes," Sam whispered.
"Sammy, your having a nightmare, you have to wake up," Dean instructed. "Listen Sam, I came over to wake you up and I touched you to get you to come back to reality. It looked like you had enough lollipops and candy canes," Dean explained. "That's how I got here," he finished.
"No," Sam said shaking his head, "I saw you, I watched you die, you killed the demon. You saved Dad and me," Sam said.
Dean shook Sam and said, "No Sam, It's just a nightmare. WAKE UP!"
Suddenly Dean was back. He saw Sam wake up with a gasp and yell out, "DEAN!" It worked.
"That was... weird," Sam said finally.
"You don't have to tell me, I was there," Dean said with a groan as he got up off of the hard floor.
Sam suddenly got up and leaving Dean behind as he left the room, he needed a break from all of this. Not to mention his stomach had started to protest from hunger hours ago. He was breaking his promise to his father, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Sam beat himself up over letting his father down yet again as he went in search of the vending machines.
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TBC... Chapter 1 out of 4. The more reviews I get, the faster I post Chapter 2. Evil grin And trust me, you want to read Chapter 2.
Motivate me...