yippee, an update. I wasn't sure about continuing this story (was going to make it an angsty oneshot), but a lot of people seemed to want more...and well it was pretty unresolved :P therefore I had much wiggle room to keep it going. Before getting into the next chapter I must apologize for almost killing some of my readers lol. Had some (lovely) reviewers who complained about losing their breath while reading. I didn't mean to try and kill you I swear :)
[] Whatever You Do, Don't Panic []
This was gonna be a bitch.
Dean lay on the ground, the gurney wheeled next to his body. Red -he'd appropriately named her -was shuffling around him, grabbing the back board, as Paul kneeled at Dean's head, rhythmically pumping the ambu bag that was delivering oxygen to Dean's lungs.
Yup. This was gonna be a bitch.
"Sam" -a pause.
"Sam!" and Dean noticed the second time was repeated much harsher, as if snapping his brother out of a trance.
Which made sense. Kid always did have his head stuck in the clouds.
"Give us a hand for a minute. When we roll him on his side I need you to slip the board under him okay? Sam? Come on, hurry now son"
Dean sensed movement, his body tensing when he felt hands grasp below his knees.
Paul set the bag he was pumping in the crook of Dean's neck as he paused squeezing it and placed his hands on Dean's shoulder and waist "On three" he said before he began counting the numbers.
'Good god, at least knock me out' Dean thought, knowing that an onslaught of pain was about one second from coming his way.
"three" came Paul's voice from beside him as he felt his body being rolled onto his side.
Dean would have gasped if he could have made a sound slip out past the tube choked down his throat. Instead he found he was left to suffer in silence.
'Holy Mary and hell fire' He thought to himself as his brow bunched up in agony, crinkles forming at the corners of his green eyes. Intense pain shot up his side and worked it's way around his belly before he felt the board nudge softly against his body. Chancing a look down before being rolled onto his back, Dean arched his neck forward, mentally cursing himself when he felt the uncomfortable shift of the tube in his throat. 'Stupid'.
His eyes widened slightly when they rested upon his stomach. Blood was pooled on the ground below him, the gravel soaking it up. Four large, deep, slashes ran from just above his right hip, diagonally across to just under the left side of his ribcage. The crimson was oozing out of him as he lazily drew his hand beside one of the wounds, weakly cupping his fingers, as if catching the blood pouring out of his body would do any good.
[][][][][]
It was supposed to be an easy hunt. Find the thing and burn it. Burn it and move on to the next hunt.
But Dean had wasted his flare and Sam had almost gotten killed. Damn thing moved faster then Dean could pull the trigger.
'Aim where the target is going to be, not where it's at' His father's voice echoed in his head. But when Dean saw the creature send Sam flying backwards against a tree, and move towards his little brother he hastily pulled the trigger, missing his target by inches.
That was it for Sam. The wendigo was almost on top of him, clawed hands ready to end his life, when Dean yanked the knife out of the sheaf attached to his ankle and sent the blade hurtling towards the creatures back.
An angry hiss moved through the creatures lips, the knife doing nothing but pissing it off as it turned towards Dean. But Dean had accomplished exactly what he'd wanted. The thing was now after him and not Sam. So sparing one last glance at his little brother slumped against the tree, whose eyes were watching him in worry, begging Dean not to do anything stupid, Dean turned and hightailed it in the opposite direction. One angry wendigo hot in pursuit.
He'd been running towards the impala. Branches whipping against his face as he moved probably the fastest he'd ever moved in his life. Well except that time when I got caught with Cindy Sullivan. He mentally laughed to himself. Man was her dad a beast.
He broke through the trees and stopped at the gravel crunching under his feet. He was on a road. Good. Great. Car. He thought as he looked left and right, then left again, not knowing which way his baby was waiting. But before he could even make up his mind about a direction to take he felt an immense force throw him across the road. He was airborne, body twisting, before his side was brutally impacted against a tree.
Air left his lungs as he tumbled to the ground below him. If that wasn't good for some broken ribs then he didn't know what would be.
He pushed himself onto his knee's and elbow's. Staggering and fighting to remain conscious as the wendigo moved towards him. Slipping a bloodied hand into his waist band he pulled out his gun. The weight felt good in his hand, the engravings on the handle feeling familiar to his touch, before he pushed himself onto his knees and emptied the clip into the creatures chest.
Sure. Dean knew that bullets wouldn't kill a wendigo. But the fact was that Dean was out of options. He'd had no other choice. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
His arm sank in defeat to his side when the barrel of his gun was empty. He looked up to the creature looming in front of him as he swayed on his knees in the dirt. With one swift swipe of the wendigo's arm, Dean felt claws dig into the flesh in his stomach before he was being hurtled into the middle of the road, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.
He thought things were surely over for him until he heard the hideous screams coming from the wendigo. Burning flesh filled his nostrils, as the wails became less and that's when he heard it.
"Dean. Dean?"
Little Sammy Winchester to the rescue.
'Boy am I glad to see you brother'
[][][][][]
Dean didn't recall blacking out, but it was clear that he had. The last thing he remembered was being rolled onto his side in the middle of the road, body being in intense agony. But now, now he was staring up towards a white ceiling.
'Hospital?'
His body jostled underneath him as he furrowed his brow trying to catch up with the events that he'd missed. His ears were ringing as he blinked and felt the gurney beneath him give another lurch. Ahhh, ambulance.
"Dean!" it was a restrained shout as Sam leaned forward from above him into his line of vision. Relief flooding his little brother's eyes as he looked down towards Dean.
'What the hell' Dean thought as he followed Sam's arm to the bag that he was pumping just above Dean's face.
Sam gave a barely noticeable shrug of his shoulders as he continued to pump air into Dean's lungs "Were kind of short on hands" his brother replied barely above a whisper. And Dean didn't miss the fact that Sam looked like a kicked puppy.
Dean felt a poke in his arm as he glanced down towards Red who was sitting there with a needle in her bloodied hand. Which meant that her partner was driving Dean thought as his body was yet again roughly jostled and he could hear medicine bottles in the ambulance cabinets clanking against each other.
'Easy on the damn bumps there Need for Speed'
The wailing of the siren was beyond irritating. It made his head pound relentlessly. Which sucked because Dean was really already in enough pain.
'Jesus! Better go back, I think you missed a hole' Dean angrily thought. Everything was aching and the pressure was returning to his chest. He went to lift his hand towards the burning pressure in his chest when it was met with resistance. The black strap of the backboard was tightened tightly around his wrist. He felt his chest clench at the feeling of being tied down. The straps ran across his chest, thighs, and calves, and he continued to pull against there hold.
"It's ok Dean. It's ok" he heard the rhythmic chant coming from Sam's lips as he felt his brothers free hand reach up and gently squeeze his shoulder. Sam knew how he was feeling. Hunters didn't like being tied down. Bad things happened when you were tied down.
"Dean?" questioned the red haired girl as she moved towards his face "Glad to see you back with us" she continued as she lifted the small penlight.
The click rang in Dean's throbbing skull, the light brutally stabbing pain into his retina's as she moved the light in and out of each of his eyes a couple times.
'Seriously lady, I am this freaking close-'
His eyes squeezed shut. His fists clenched. His body went rigid.
He could hear the heart monitor beeping out a rapid irregular rhythm as he choked against the tube, his tongue pressing against the intruding plastic.
"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brothers frightened shouts "What's going on?"
Dean was trying to focus, trying to stay conscious, but the building pressure in his chest had reached new heights. His chest felt full and tight and his lungs had literally stopped working.
He felt tugging on the tube in his mouth as the bag was unhooked and disregarded to the side. He was still fighting for air as he made dry gagging sounds around the tube in his throat. No air in. No air out. He was suffocating.
"What's happening?" he heard Sam cry out again as he looked towards his worried face.
He wanted to tell Sammy that it was okay. That he was okay. But the truth was Dean was not okay. His chest was on fire and he felt like he was being strangled. His brother looked down towards him, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks as he placed a gentle hand on Dean's forehead.
"You can't leave me like this Dean"
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