'Boxing Day' will tie into this story eventually. Since Gordon and what's his name - Kreichek…Kreegan…whatever - are out of the picture now I'm going through a 'Winchesters are in deep doo-doo' otherwise known as 'imminent peril' withdrawal.

I'm making the medical stuff up as I go along so if it's wrong…eh c'est la vie. I guess I could ask my SIL who is a trauma room nurse down in Dallas, Texas but that would take out all the fun in making this stuff up and getting frustrated when I can't find the info I want on-line.

A Hunt Gone Wrong

Ordered chaos was the norm in the Emergency Room of the Tri-County Hospital, even at 0300 in the morning. Victims of drunk driving accidents, bar room brawls and school rivalries outnumbered most of the other people in the Waiting Room at this time of the morning. Therefore, it wasn't unusual for police officers to follow EMTs as they brought in a stabbing victim. "What do we have Troy?" asked Dr. Therésa Ralston.

"A male in his early to mid-twenty's, found out on the highway with two stab wounds to his lower right back, one stab wound to his lower right abdomen and a deep laceration above his left eyebrow. He's hypothermic and we've got him on a warmed IV of Ringer's lactate," Troy answered as they rushed the unconscious man into an exam room. Transferring the patient from the gurney to the bed he added, "he also has a laceration on his right forearm."

"What's his temp?"

"Ninety-one point five," replied Troy pulling his gurney back out of the room.

"Start him on warmed O-two," said Dr. Ralston as a nurse cut off the man's soaking wet shirts. "Somebody really worked this kid over," she commented while examining the bruises and abrasions covering his chest and stomach.

Dr. Javier Frye gently pressed down on the ribs, "luckily it doesn't feel like any of his ribs are broken…wait I think I spoke to soon…" he probed the left side of the rib cage more thoroughly, "yep at least one rib is broken."

Dr. Ralston listened to his heart and lungs, paying a bit more attention to the lung sounds on the left side, "Renée what's his pulse and blood pressure?"

"Pulse is thirty-six and BP is….eighty-five over twenty-two."

"Crap it's to low. Start another warm IV and Jace type and cross match him and bring in two units of O-neg," Dr. Ralston ordered before rubbing her knuckles hard over her patient's breastbone, "Sir can you hear me? I'm Doctor Ralston. Sir?" The pain elicited a low moan. Dr. Ralston rubbed harder while Dr. Frye pulled the blood soaked bandages off the abdominal wound. When he probed the wound their patient suddenly bucked up, striking and kicking out.

"Sir, please hold still!" exclaimed Dr. Frye, as he held down the arm that had hit him hard in the chin.

"Sir your safe," yelled Dr. Ralston. While the nurses held down his legs and other arm, she grabbed ahold of the man's rolling head and looked into his barely open eyes, "you're safe. Doctor Frye needs to check your wounds." The man stopped kicking and grabbed hold of the bed's rails. Groaning in pain he clenched his eyes shut and tipped his head back, breathing heavily into the oxygen mask affixed to his face. "Sir what's your name?"

"Sssam," he groaned out through clenched teeth.

"Sam what?"

"Mmmh..."

"Okay Sam." Brushing Sam's wet bangs out of the way, Dr. Ralston pulled his eyelids apart and shined her penlight into his eyes, "pupils are equal but sluggish," she called out and continued to question her patient, "how old are you?"

"Twe…twenty-four," Sam gasped out, breathing heavily.

He pulled away when Dr. Ralston gently pressed down around the laceration above his eyebrow. "Do you remember how you hurt your head Sam?" He hissed when she pushed down to hard on the large, darkening bruise covering his right cheekbone.

"Nnnno," Sam's teeth clattered together as violent shivers wracked his body. He started to pull up his legs so he could curl into a ball but stopped when one of the nurses pushed down on his injured knees. "Shiiit."

Dr. Ralston sliced open his jeans, "try to relax Sam," she said examining the bruised and swollen knees. Sam tried to glare at the doctor but gave up when he couldn't keep his head up and muttered incoherently instead. He groaned and scrunched his eyes shut when Dr. Frye pressed down on his stomach near the stab wound.

"A bit tender there Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Shay, we're going to need x-rays of his chest and abdomen," he said glancing at the x-ray tech.

"And his left knee," added Dr. Ralston. "Are you allergic to any medications? Taking any drugs?"

The nurses pried his fingers from the bed rails and rolled him onto his left side, "nno drugs…al…allergic to ampicillin. AAAHHHH!" Sam screamed, arched his back and started hyperventilating when Dr. Frye probed the wounds on his back.

"Sam, Sam calm down," Dr. Ralston squeezed Sam's shoulder, "take slow, deep breaths…" Sam's eyes rolled back into his head as he passed out. "Crap! Renée call up Surgery see if they're ready for him." She listened as his breathing slowly returned to normal. "Justine what's his pulse ox?"

"Ninety-six percent"

"Okay, put him on a CO-two re-breather and check his level in five minutes."

"The wounds are deep but it doesn't look like anything vital was hit but it's difficult to see with all this blood. The surgeons could find something I missed," he replied pressing gauze down on the slowly bleeding wounds. "Therésa didn't Troy say he had a cut on his forearm?"

"Yeah he did." They rolled Sam back onto his back, covered him with warmed blankets and turned his arm over to get a better look. "Justine I need a couple of alcohol wipes please," Dr. Ralston said glancing over at the nurse at the head of the bed. Wiping the mud away, she could see the red, puffy edges of the cut crisscrossed with new scrapes. "Doesn't look to bad, you can see where it's started healing, it just needs a thorough cleaning and some antibiotics."

"Ouch dude."

"Javier, what?"

He pointed at Sam's finger, "his fingernail's been torn off."

"Dee…"

Dr. Frye asked, "what Sam?"

"Dee…nnnh."

"Dean? Did you say 'Dean' Sam?" The two doctors glanced at each other than back at Sam.

"Dean."

"Did Dean stab you Sam?" Dr. Ralston prompted as Sam cracked his eyes open again.

"Guh…" he groaned.

"Excuse me Docs but I need to talk to your patient," interrupted one of the police officers that had accompanied Sam and the EMTs into the hospital. He stood over the bed and looked down at Sam. "Sir, I'm Deputy Pendergrass from the Charles Mix County Sheriff's Office. Can you tell me what happened to you?" Sam slowly looked around the room before closing his eyes again. "Sir!"

"Deputy Pendergrass please don't yell at him," admonished Dr. Frye.

"Doc you know I need to get his statement."

"We know Deputy," replied Dr. Ralston, "he said his name was Sam and he mentioned the name 'Dean'."

"Did he say if Dean was the one who stabbed him?"

"We asked but he wouldn't answer."

Deputy Pendergrass continued to write in his notebook. "Do you think he'll make it?"

Dr. Ralston glanced at the heart monitor showing the slow but steady beat of Sam's heart. "Hopefully. If they can get his blood pressure up and the bleeding stopped."

Shay interrupted, "Doctor Ralston they're ready for him upstairs."

"Okay," replied Dr. Ralston getting the tubes and wires attached to Sam situated for the short ride up to the fourth floor, "let's get him up there."