Disclaimer: If you recognize anyone or anything in here I probably don't own them. So don't sue me!
A/N: This plot bunny has been running wild in my head for the better part of the two weeks now and I decided that I should write it out. Please let me know if you like and would like to see a follow up or epilogue of some sort. This will also be AU (hopefully not severely but it will be far off the cannon path). Enjoy and let me know what you think.
Also please be gentle this is my first work in nearly six months! Just let me know if it is good, bad or just plain disgusting. I love you all
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"Everyone put your hands where I can see 'em!"
4 hours Earlier Washington D.C
"Hey ya Sammy," 16 year old Dean greeted as he stepped into the sterile hospital room, "how you feeling?"
"Dean," Sam whispered from behind the oxygen mask, "I thought you had school today?"
Dean sighed his brother was so stubborn. How was he supposed to pay the hospital bills if he was sitting behind a desk, "I sold six more drawings this weekend?" He answered sheepishly sitting down in the worn chair next to the hospital bed and taking a sip from his cold coffee.
"Dean, you know you can't keep skipping school like this," Sam answered as he lifted a frail finger to push his bed into an upright position, "they keep calling asking where you are. They said if you don't start showing up they aren't going to let you graduate."
"I don't care Sammy! I have more important things to do and I can always get my GED or something, right now I need to get some money for us. When you get out of here-"He didn't even realize he was standing and blabbering until he was interrupted.
"Kid you know I'm not walking out of here," The 26 year old answered with brutal honesty, "you have to start taking care of yourself. I won't always be here to do it for you."
"Sammy don't talk like that," wiping at his dripping emerald eyes, "don't talk like that!" He screamed pushing the chair back so it clattered against the wall, "You are going to be fine, you are going to get a transplant and we are going to go back to the way things used to be. I won't let you die."
He watched as his older brother closed his eyes and leaned back in the hospital bed. Sam had gotten so much worse since he was admitted, "Dean-"
"No," Dean answered shaking his head and backing out of the room, "I'm going to go sell more pictures and see if I can't pick up another shift at the café. I'll see you tonight and I'll bring you some of that leafy green stuff you like so much."
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Dean was walking out of the room when he bumped into someone coming in, "Excuse me ma'am."
"Are you family of Samuel Winchester?" The woman, who appeared to be in her late thirties, dressed sharply in a black pantsuit asked as she readjusted her slipping glasses and looked sternly down her pointed nose.
"I am," he answered as he looked back to see if Sam was awake and wasn't surprised when he saw that his brother had already fallen asleep, "what can I help you with?"
He suddenly felt very young, "My name is Sarah Gonzalez and I'm here on behalf of the billing department of the hospital. Do you realize you are behind on payments?"
"Yes, but-"Dean stuttered and nervously pulled on the bottom of his baggy t-shirt.
"I'm sorry but..." she stopped as if waiting for a name.
"Dean, I'm Sam's little brother."
"I'm sorry Dean, but if you can't at least make a small payment by the end of the week we are going to have to ship Sam to the County Hospital. Is there anyone you can get to help you? A parent, friend, any family at all?"
"No," Dean answered shaking shaggy blonde hair, "Sam is my family, we have an Uncle but he is working out of the country right now on an Archeology dig in Egypt."
"Dean I'm-"She started reaching a comforting hand out to land on his shoulder but it was pushed away by shaking hands.
"You don't understand Sam needs the help here," he answered frantically, "I'm selling my drawings every day, picking up more shifts at the café where I work. I'm literally doing everything I can but I don't get paid until the end of the month."
"I really can't push your payment back any further you are already behind nearly six months." Ms. Gonzalez answered pushing back a loose lock of black hair to her otherwise perfect bun, "You have until the end of the week to make a payment before we will be forced to move your brother to County."
"You don't understand it is already Wednesday!" Dean was yelling now as he pulled at his hair and jumped letting his worn out Nikes skid on the floor, "I can't possibly come up with that money in two days. Sammy needs the treatment here or otherwise he will die."
"I'm sorry Mr. Winchester but there really isn't anything else I can do for you." She replied turning to walk back down the hallway they had moved into, "I hope you can figure something out."
Dean watched as the woman marched down the hallway as if she hadn't just delivered a death sentence.
Shaking his head, he shoved trembling hands into his pocket and took the few steps back into Sam's room. Seeing that Sam was awake again if just barely, hazel eyes were squinting in the direction of the door, "Who was that Dean?"
"Nobody important," he answered with a little smirk that had been known to make things drop, "just some jerk who had the wrong room." Slipping to sit on the edge of the hospital bed where Sammy had patted gently careful not to disrupt his IVs.
"Didn't sound like it."
"Let's just say they were persistent," swallowing he continued, "Listen Sam I have to go and run a few errands but I'll be back tomorrow I need to talk to a few people. Take care of a few things."
He watched as Sam let his eyes drop a little further before opening them again, "Dean don't get yourself into any more trouble ok? Just please be careful."
He couldn't help the few tears that were welling in his eyes as he watched his big brother coughed into his mask, "I got'cha big brother don't worry I'll take care of you this time."
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Speeding through the busy D.C traffic on his crappy little motorcycle Dean knew he had one last option. He watched as the buildings changed from the business and metro district into the dumpy, slummy side of town; the side you didn't want to go to in fear of being mugged or involved in a drive by.
He watched as peeling siding and cracked windows flashed by until the familiar fading façade of one apartment building appeared. Making a quick ninety degree turn on the machine he pulled to a quick stop in front of the door and jumped off storming through the creaky, barred door, "I need to speak to Alistair. Now!"
"Sorry kid but you know how the man works," the sleazy overweight man behind the crumbling counter answered, "but you could do me some favors while we wait."
Dean shivered at the implications of that sentence. His eyes roved over the yellowed wife beater, chest hairs poking over the top and greasy slicked back hair, "Think again tubby," he answered swallowing back his lunch as rotten teeth were shown when the man smiled at him, "and I wasn't asking sicko."
Escaping from the lobby he ran up the stairs to the top room in the apartment building and burst through the door.
"Welcome back child," Alistair answered as he spun around from in front of the window, "I didn't believe you would be back so soon."
"I need money Alistair and I need it now." Dean answered stepping forward to face the older man with the nasally voice.
"You know how this works," the man answered coming closer to land a hand on the boy's face, "you have to do your job first before I can get you the money. I already told you what you need to do in order for the money; we are just waiting on you."
"But I can't-"he started as he remembered the first time he had walked the streets for money, "I can't do that again."
"Well then I guess you are going to have to find some other way for money kid," the pimp answered turning back to look out the window and watched his other 'kids' as they left for work, "you know the deal Dean."
"Fine you bastard I'll-"he didn't get to finish as he was backhanded across the room.
"Don't you take that tone with me," he growled as he moved forward and came to kneel in front of Dean who was cradling his face as blood spilled from his nose, "I own you and that hasn't changed. Now if you want your damn money for whatever addiction you need to fill you know the damn deal."
"Fuck you Alistair!" the 16 year old yelled as he stumbled to his feet running from the room and the building.
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Brushing away the tears that were falling from his eyes and down his bruised cheek Dean steered the bike a couple of blocks south before pulling into the driveway of a rundown trailer. Storming up the creaky steps he pulled open the bent screen door and walked into the home he hadn't entered in nearly eight years.
Sitting at the old aluminum dining room table was his mother with her teased hair, heavy makeup and usual needle stuck in her arm, "Hey mom."
Looking up with glazed eyes the blonde woman who was now in her early forties, let out a disgusted sneer, "What the hell do you want boy?"
He didn't even answer her, it wasn't worth it. He was here for one thing and one thing only. Storming into the bedroom area of the trailer he found his Dad passed out on the bed with an empty bottle of whiskey lying next to him. Moving closer he couldn't tell if he was alive or dead, but couldn't care one way or the other.
He listened to the crack and crinkle of old beer cans as he stepped on them walking over to the nightstand next to the bed pulling open the top drawer and reaching for the pistol from his childhood. It was just as he remembered it from the night he left, all chrome and pearl finishing. Just as menacing as when it had been pointed at him on all those drunken nights not so long ago. Letting his head fall to his chest he took a deep breath before sticking it into the small of his back.
"Just as much a pansy as the day you left."
Turning around from the doorway he found his father looking at him with drunken eyes, "Shut the fuck up John."
Walking back down the hallway it was as if nothing had changed since Sam saved him from this house all those years ago. Cheap wane's coating covered the walls, it smelled like sex and cheap cigarettes mixed with that disgustingly fake perfume Mary always insisted on wearing.
Stepping up to the chair where Mary was perched in her tight, strapless dress lost in her high. He got right up into her glazed face and screamed, "Wake the fuck up Mary!" Kicking her chair on the way out he guessed it was some long lost teen rebellion.
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Present time Alexandria, VA
"Yes Kate," Tony sighed as he started to slump up the stairs of the rundown apartment building he was currently residing in, "I know this dinner is important for your promotion next week…"
He leaned against the wall shuffling his gym bag housing his work uniform on his shoulder; all the while listening to his fiancée whine, "I understand that Kate, but I just got off a 24 hour shift and I'm on call all weekend. I just can't make it this time why don't you ask my Dad?"
Looking up he deflated at the thought of climbing the next two flights of stairs, "I understand that I should be the one there with you instead of my father but I'm exhausted and what if I had to leave," he tried to reason as he trudged passed the peeling wallpaper and smoky carpet, "besides you don't need little ole me to get you that job working with the President."
One flight down, one more to go, "I know and I'm sorry I can't make it. You know I would be there if I could."
Finally he was almost to the door, "Yes I love you too Kate," reaching into his pocket he went to grab his key, "Now and forever."
Hanging up his phone he let himself fall through the door and over to his couch where he collapsed in a heap of grimy, sweaty manliness.
Giving a minute to collect himself before he did anything. It had been a long week at DC Metro where he was a lead detective and recently appointed hostage negotiator. Tony Gibbs had everything he needed in life, a beautiful fiancée who he would be marrying this spring, a father who although rough around the edges loved him more than anything and his new step-mom Jenny Shepard-Gibbs. While he was still warming up to the woman she wasn't nearly as bad as the other three evil step mothers he had.
Sighing he leaned back into his worn couch and lowered his eyelids.
No sooner had he closed his eyes and started to let his exhausted mind drift off did he hear the rattle of his door knob and telltale scratches of the key turning in its ancient lock.
Flinging an arm miserably over his eyes as the door opened he smelled the breakfast plate he always ordered from his Dad's favorite diner, "You couldn't have called first?"
"Didn't see the point," Jethro Gibbs answered as he kicked the door shut behind him and set the food down, "I was already at your door besides I figured you would be starving."
Realizing that he wouldn't be getting any sleep, "You could have still called."
"Don't sass me boy," his father replied pulling a long sip from his coffee and plopping down on the couch beside Tony's feet, "you can't tell me you had any other plans."
"I did," he answered taking a generous gulp of his own coffee before sitting up and leaning back against the couch back, "they included me viewing the back of my eyelids for most of the day and then maybe I don't know sleeping some more."
Seemingly ignoring Tony's protests he continued on, "Jenny wanted me to invite you to supper tonight. She is having some of her friends from work over as well as the team."
"Dad I-"the younger man started to complain before he was silenced with a wave of the hand.
"I know you don't have any plans for this weekend except waiting to get called in or trying to work on some cases. Tony your mother and I talked-"
Fuck. He was fucked if his parents were talking about him. Sure he was getting a little involved in his work but he was really trying to get that position internship with the Federal Marshals and with the wedding, "Dad I can assure you I'm fine. Just been under a bit of stress lately."
"I was in your spot once to Tony. I threw myself into work and I almost lost everything important to me. I lost your mother, three wives after and I nearly lost you," Gibbs answered leaning back into the worn sofa, "I lost contact with any family that was still alive. Don't let that be you take time to smell the roses. Be there for Kate, I know she has a promotion coming up. Come to dinner at the house every once in a while. Don't lose yourself in work because it won't always be there."
"Where is all of this coming from?" Tony asked biting into a strip of bacon and nearly spitting it out with realization, "You aren't dying are you?"
He was greeted with a head slap to rival any growing up, "No dumbass I just want to make sure you don't end up like me."
Swallowing his mouthful of food he answered, "I don't know why not you're pretty awesome."
"Just eat your food son," Gibbs ordered as he stood up nearly tripping over an old Chinese food container, "and then we are going to take care of this sty you call a home."
Just as he was about to reply he was cut off by the ringing of his duty phone. Standing up and cracking his back he picked up the backpack he had dropped in his rush to the couch, "Well as much fun as that sounds…duty calls."
Zipping up his jacket he hadn't taken off and slipping his backpack over his shoulder he answered the buzzing phone, "Gibbs."
"Yeah we got a situation at Wells and Fargo on the corner of 3rd and Jefferson. Bank hold up. Perp is late teen and has a gun. We haven't been able to get much out of the couple witnesses we have."
"I'll be there in 10."
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"Hey Mike" Tony yelled as he pulled on his DCPD windbreaker and crossed through the yellow tape to reach the Department tent where he could see his comrades hard at work, "tell me more."
"Tony thank God you are here." Mike answered shaking the younger man's hand before he spun back around to reach for a file.
Mike Denson was the one of the oldest members of the Department and had been Tony's mentor when he first joined after graduating from the Academy and was the one responsible for helping him raise through the ranks as fast as he had. While a generally nice guy he often had a hard time with robberies of any sort, has he had lost his wife and unborn child years earlier in a gas station hold up.
"All we were able to gather is that the young man inside wants money. He doesn't want a free get away, he doesn't want anyone dead or injured. In fact the kid let all the elderly and children out right away."
Well that was weird.
"Did you get a name, age, anything?" The young Detective asked looking over to the other side of the tent where paramedics were treating an elderly couple who looked just shy of prehistoric times and a couple of children who looked no older than 10.
Shit they really did draw the short straw for witnesses.
"Name is Dean Winchester, age 16 and currently living with his older brother Sam Winchester who just so happens to or should I say use to work as Personal Aid to Secretary Jarvis. Sam is suffering from Organ Failure and is on the waiting list for a new heart. No luck so far. Parents are both drug addicts and alcoholics leaving the only other family member as Dr. Robert Singer with the Museum of Natural History and currently out of the country."
Blowing out a breath and running a hand through his hair as he spun to face the bank that looked deserted from the outside but inside held a scared and confused kid with a gun, "Have you talked to him?"
"No," The elder officer answered as he set aside his file, "what are you thinking Tony?"
Looking around he saw the released hostages huddled together fending off the cold with a couple of blankets near the ambulances, he saw the press behind them shouting for answers and lastly he saw the SWAT team bundled in full gear ready to enter the building, "I think I need to talk to him Mike, see where his mind is."
"Tony I don't know what you think you are going to get out of the kid," Mike answered coming up with the phone to call Dean, "but I know you are the best shot we got."
Taking the offered phone he waved a hand up to silence the other busily working Cops and emergency aid workers. He waited for the line to pick up and was surprised when a voice much younger sounding answered, "I just want the money. I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"My name is Tony I work with the Metro Police," Tony answered calmly, "Can you tell me what your name is?"
"Dean," he could almost hear the shake in his breath, "please Mister I just want the money. Sammy is gonna kill me if he finds out I did this."
"Who is Sammy? Is he a friend?"
"You sure are dumb for a Cop," he could hear a chuckle from the other end, "I thought Cops were supposed to know it all."
"Dean I just want to help you," Tony answered sliding to lean against the plastic table balancing computers, phones and more crap then he could ever fathom needing, "you haven't done anything yet. You can still walk away from this."
"I need this money or Sammy is going to die," there was a pause and he could hear yelling in the background, "Do you understand that? My Sammy is going to die because I can't keep paying the bills, it's just me and him. Me and Sammy against the world and now I have to get this money or otherwise he is gonna die."
Pulling the phone away to let out a sigh, "If you let everyone else go we can sit down and find out a way to get you the money. There are grants and loans we can figure something out. This isn't the way to do it; those are innocent people in there with you and they are just a scared as you are right now. Just let them go and come talk to me."
"I don't have time for that! I have to pay the bills by Friday; even if I sold everything I own, stayed up the rest of the week filling out paperwork it wouldn't be enough! Sammy needs the treatment now and I'm his last hope."
Shit this was going to be harder then he thought, "Dean you don't want to do this-"
"How the hell would you know what I do or don't want? You don't me from Adam mister," It started out as a frantic, raised voice before turning to a near sob, "nobody knows me. Nobody but Sammy he saved me and now I need to return the favor."
"Sammy wouldn't want you to do this," Tony was going out on a limb here bringing up his brother and catalyst for all of this, "Sammy would want you to find some other way to find the money to let all of these innocent people go and come and talk to me. Just let me help you. We can speed up the process for paperwork maybe push the deadlines back a little bit. We can figure out what is going on but I need to have you come out here and talk to me."
"I can't," Dean was crying now, "I ain't got nothing to go back to out there all I got is Sam. I ain't walking away from this am I?"
"I said it before and I'll say it again Dean," he looked away from the building to see the SWAT team moving forward before he waved at them to stop, "you can still walk away from this. We can get you a reduced sentence and you are still a juvenile. You have everything on your side right now."
"I'll make a deal," this was it, "I'll let half of them go in exchange for you."
The line went dead
Closing his eyes Tony raised his head to the sky just as the first flakes of a late winter snow began to fall, "What did he say?"
"He is going to release half of the hostages in exchange for me." He replied softly knowing where this was heading.
"You can't be seriously considering this?" Denson yelled loudly enough for the whole tent to quiet, "This is dangerous even by your stupid daredevil standards."
"He is just a scared kid that wants to help his brother," Tony answered pulling off his windbreaker long enough to pull a Kevlar vest on and zip the jacket back up, "I'm going to do everything in my power to help him. He is going to walk away from this or my resignation will be on your desk before dusk."
With that he walked passed the SWAT team still geared to the gills but waiting for the order to continue forward.
In the hundred yards to the front of the building it felt different. It felt like the twilight zone, everything depended on the words he was about to speak. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, the squish of his old running Nikes slushing against old snow, but he couldn't hear the crowd anymore. All that mattered now was him and Dean.
Him and Dean.
He was at the front door now. Looking in he could see a crowd of no more than 15 people grouped together in the middle of the lobby. He could see Dean pacing back and forth near the row of teller desks.
Moving his hand up he knocked twice on the glass and waited for Dean to acknowledge his presence. He watched as the teen made eye contact and split the group in half and escort them towards the door with his gun at the ready. Pushing open the door the released hostages ran across the open area towards waiting paramedics and family members.
Waltzing in Tony looked around and whistled, "Pretty nice place you got here."
"You said you could help me," Dean answered rubbing a hand across his still leaking eyes.
The elder man took a minute to observe his young friend. He found he was tall and gangly (like most 16 year olds he suspected) and was also supporting a fresh black eye and dried blood under his nose, "I see you have already had a little excitement today." He added nodding towards his face.
Dean was getting restless now, "I need your help. I don't want to hurt anyone I'm not asking to get away free, hell I'm not even asking for all the money this place has; I just want enough to pay the bills and make sure my brother lives."
"Come on Dean Lets go and talk somewhere without prying ears," Tony replied nodding towards an empty office he saw upon entering.
"Can't we have to stay where I can see 'em" Dean answered nodding towards the group of hostages left huddling and crying in the middle of the floor.
"Alright we can stay here I just thought you might be more comfortable sitting down" he replied leaning against the marble wall.
The silence was cut through with a sharp whimper from one of the females closest to them, "Please let us go."
"I'm so sorry," Dean apologized letting the pistol fall to his side and letting a new set of tears fall, "I just need the money. As soon as I get it you can go I just need the money."
"Dean," Tony answered trying to gain attention again and glanced at his watch, "If we leave right now we can still get to the hospital before closing and get the paperwork started. We can try and see if Sam's old boss can push forward insurance papers and we can try and get a hold of your Uncle."
That stopped the young man in his tracks, "You would do all of that… for me?"
"Of course I would you deserve to be helped," Tony answered slowly moving a hand forward to rest on a trembling shoulder, "now what do you say?"
It was quiet in the room except for the shuffling of hostages, heaving breaths from Dean and the rustling of the plastic windbreaker Tony was donning.
"Alright under one condition," Dean answered drying the last of his tears, "you let me help Sam before you take me away."
"I think I can arrange that," Tony answered with a smile, "now I'm going to lead out the rest of our friends here," nodding towards the crowd that was starting to stand, "and I'm going to tell them you are coming out and mean no harm. When you come out I want you to keep your hands where everyone can see them and your gun up. There are men and women out there who won't hesitate to shoot you if you look a threat. Do you understand that Dean?"
For the first time since this began Dean looked all of his 16 years. Spikey blonde hair, shiny emerald eyes his old grey t-shirt with drips of blood on it from earlier, "I understand Tony."
"I'll give you a thumbs up when the coast is clear."
He was met at the door by the remaining persons, "It's alright I want you all to follow me and everything will be ok." He was met with nods and quiet whimpers as the doors pushed open and they began their trek across the courtyard and as soon as they crossed into safety they were all bombarded by safety personal.
"TONY!" Spinning around he had Mike embracing him before he could say anything, "what's going on?"
"He is going to come out Mike," he answered escaping from the older man's grasp, "he is going to come out and I'm going to take him to the hospital and we are going to start going over paperwork and applying for loans, grants, anything we can get our hands on and see if we can't get insurance to cover more of the costs and call their Uncle Bobby and see if he can't help."
"Tony yo-"Mike started clearly about to dismiss the whole idea.
"I know he isn't in that much trouble," he answered before starting back towards the edge of the yellow tape in clear view of the door where he could see the edge of Dean standing waiting for the sign, "we can hold off the arrest for a couple of hours and you know it."
"You know I can't do that." The greying man answered with renewed vengeance in his eyes.
"I know that you can and will do that Mike, "he was growling now, "Dean is just a kid who is scared and confused. This won't bring Julie back and it won't change anything in the past we need to help him. He can still change."
"Gibbs I-"
"Just remember what I said earlier." He answered and then made sure he had the teen's attention before raising his right hand in a thumbs up with a comforting smile following before yelling, "Hold your weapons!"
Slowly the glass door pried open and for the first time in nearly five hours Dean Winchester saw the outside world. It was cold now and his skimpy too large shirt was doing nothing to protect against the freak DC snowfall. Slowly he came from under the canopy in front of the building.
"KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"
Dean nodded and as he brought his hands up he slowly raised his weapon into the air to show he meant no harm…
But it was misinterpreted.
Before Tony could say anything he heard two shots from next to him and he watched as Dean stumbled forward and backward with the recoil of the two bullets now lodged in his abdomen.
"NO!"
Tony was running forward before anyone could say anything. Everything seemed to be in slow motion now, he watched as the teen stumbled forward hands coming to his wounds and pulling away to look at his bloodied hands before falling to his knees and then backwards to stare into the grey sky.
Tony got there as soon as the boy fell and started applying pressure to the wounds, "We are gonna get you help. You are going to be ok Dean."
Slowly turning his head Dean looked up with half-mast eyes and a blood bubble on the corner of his lips, "You're a liar."
"I know, I know but you have to know we are going to get you better so you can save Sam." Tony whispered. Damn it what was taking the paramedics so long?
"Give it to Sammy…" Dean whispered before his halted breathing stopped.
Before he could say anything he was pushed aside and paramedics were quickly making up for lost time with chest compressions and rolling him away on a stretcher.
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Tony stood there.
He looked down at his hands covered in red and then to the soft, white snow that was soaking up the crimson puddle by his feet.
Then he looked up again.
He could see the faint red and blue flashing lights as they disappeared around the corner. He could see everyone going back to bustling around the crime scene. Seemingly as if nothing had happened mere minutes before. As if a kid hadn't lost his life or almost done so.
As if Dean was never there at all.
"Tony we need to gather statements and-"Mike grumbled resting a hand on his shoulder pushing him forward.
He had to resist the urge to vomit his lunch, breakfast, hell whatever was still in his stomach all over his stupid, shined police issued shoes, "You bastard"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, "he yelled coming out of his state of shock, "he was going to surrender. His hands were in the air and you still shot him!"
"He held a bank hostage! What did you expect me to do, let him go?"
"YES," he screamed still frozen in space, "that is exactly what you were supposed to do. He is just a kid, a scared kid at that. Dean didn't want anyone hurt or didn't you realize everyone was let go with no harm done."
Before Mike could reply, "I quit! I'm done working with you, I'm done working for this damn department, I'm done!"
Throwing his badge to the ground, splattering into the congealing blood at his feet. He started running towards his car he had to get to the hospital.
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He ran through the automatic sliding doors of the ER like a man fresh out of hell. Pushing passed the sniffling man in PJ pants and the woman with a bloody rag pressed against her forehead, "I'm with DCPD I need to know where Dean Winchester is."
The nurse behind the desk had slid away from the computer with shock as he slammed against the counter leaving bloody flakes all over the counter, "Sir I-"
"I need to know it's important to the case…" He was going to be lucky if he didn't end up behind bars himself.
"ER #3-"
He was running through the flapping doors before she could finish her sentence and running past glass doors that held other injured and sick people.
None as much as Dean.
Just as he pushed the flapping door he caught the tail end, "Time of death 2130"
Death.
He stood stock still as nurses and doctors stepped aside he caught a glimpse of the boy he had tried to help. Blood over skin that was too taunt over bones two jagged holes in the center, a disconnected plastic tube slithering out of his mouth, a shrill beep in the background.
Death. Sam. Heart.
"His heart." It was just above a whisper, but it brought the room to attention.
"Sir you can'-"
"His brother Sam needs that heart," Tony answered coming back, "his brother Sam Winchester is upstairs right now dying from heart failure. You need to give him that heart."
The room was flurry of movement after that.
Prepping Dean for giving Sam his final gift.
One of the nurses, a kindly old gentle man, pushed him back to the waiting room where he was told to sip some water and catch his breath.
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It wasn't until nearly twelve hours later that Tony was briefly informed that Sam had survived the transplant and everything seemed to be taking well.
Nodding his head he stood up blanket sliding to floor and knocking over the water he never touched he stumbled towards the door.
He wasn't sure how he got there even to this day he will never know.
Just that he was knocking on the front door of the home he had spent his first 18 years, he could see the tooth mark from where he had slipped on the frozen wood steps when he was 10, the scratched TG down in the bottom left hand corner from when he got his first pocket knife.
"Tony?"
Looking up he saw his Dad holding the door open in his old USMC shirt and jeans with puzzled expression, "You ok son?"
He could only imagine how he looked. He hadn't slept in who knows how long, covered in blood and shivering from the cold.
Suddenly he couldn't stop the tears, "Dad"
"Come here son"