I'm back... and I know this chapter isn't long at all, but I'm setting up the next scene! You guys rock, thanks for the support and enjoy!

Warnings: Injuries, swearing

Enjoy:


When Doves Cry

Chapter Two


Consciousness was a slow going process for Sam Winchester and confusion seemed to push down on him as he peeled his eyelids open. A gasp left his lungs as he surveyed the metallic mess that surrounded him.

It wasn't until he really looked around that Sam realized how bad the situation was. "Oh my god," he muttered breathlessly. The seatbelt strap that harnessed him back against the seat seemed to be more restricting than it should.

With sudden clarity, Sam remembered his friend that had been driving the crumpled metal. His head shot to the side and he moaned as an intense pounding rippled through his head. "Quinton," he mumbled softly.

Quinton was sprawled limply over the steering wheel, facing away from Sam.

Was he dead?

Sam shivered and cursed the rain as he moved his hand towards the seatbelt buckle that kept him trapped to the seat. He pulled on the metal clip to try and loosen it, but to no avail. The metal clip wouldn't unlatch itself from the locking mechanism. It took several minutes, but Sam was finally able to pull the clip from its lock.

Turning his attention to Quinton, Sam reached over to feel for a pulse.

"Ahh!"

Sam slammed his eyes shut. He hadn't even made it to Quinton when the sharpest pain shot through his lower legs. His eyes searched the darkened area where his legs were and realized they were pinned beneath the dashboard that had been crumpled backwards and down onto his legs when they hit the tree. His head swam and the dizziness became inebriating.

"Dean," he cried out pathetically.

The rain refused to cease, dripping down through the broken windshield and on to the two young men trapped in the car.

Sam's body became a dead weight, forcing him to lean back against his seat for cushioning. "Somebody help us."

The darkness became suddenly quiet and Sam knew no more.


"You think he's having a good time?"

Caleb Reaves raised an amused eyebrow to the random question. "Has he been on your mind all night Princess?"

Dean scowled and raised his beer glass to his mouth.

The older man laughed a bit and shrugged. "I may be psychic, but I'm afraid my gifts aren't that specific." He stared down his young friend and could feel the uncertainty radiating from his form.

"You're like a parent on prom night, waiting for your little flower to come home untouched." He received another dirty look, but continued the one-sided conversation. "All this time I thought you wanted Sammy to even up with the big boys."

"He's fine," Dean said aloud. "He's done this before,"

"But never without you, or both of us to have his back," Caleb pointed out.

It seemed the few words made Dean all the more jumpy.

"Maybe I should call him, you know, just in case."

Caleb could only imagine the scenarios that Dean was playing around with in his mind. It was a good thing he learned how to better block the emotion that ran rampant through the Winchester's psyche, if he hadn't, he imagined his would have exploded by now.

"Just in case," Caleb repeated with a knowing roll of the eyes. He pulled out his cell phone from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. "Use mine."

Dean reached and picked up the phone, staring at it. He weighed his options, he could allow Sammy to be a big boy and leave it until he got home… or he could check up on his little brother. He opened the phone, and then quickly shut it. "I can't."

Caleb rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone from Dean's hand calling him a pussy as he did so. "I'll do it."

"No," Dean stopped him. "Let's get back to Jim's, maybe he's already home."

"Knowing Sammy… he probably is." Caleb looked at Dean seriously and added, "Let's just hope papa bear is tucked away for the night."

Dean couldn't agree more. His father didn't accept a lot of free enterprise in their lives, there wasn't room for screwing up or being careless, if John did, they'd all be dead.

"Damn rain," Caleb cursed while flipping his windshield wipers on high to clear the droplets of rain that cascaded down onto his jeep. Next to him, he heard Dean exhale tensely. "Deuce, calm down. Sammy's fine, if he needed help you would be the first he'd call."

"It was a bad idea," Dean told himself. "A very bad fucking idea. I knew better… I know better."

"Are you fucking serious?" Caleb asked and shot a look at Dean before returning his attention to the road.

"Quit reading me asshole or I'll tell your daddy and he'll ground your stupid ass," Dean said in an irritated voice.


Sam searched through a fog, and new he'd been here before but he couldn't remember anything about it. He distantly heard his name being called and followed the voice. His eyes snapped open and he tried to move, and agonizing pain shot up through his legs causing him to cry out in pain.

"Sam, thank god!"

The young Winchester recognized the voice and slowly turned his pounding head.

Quinton was staring at him through wide eyes. His face was scratched up and his nose was more than likely broken from the impact with the steering wheel's airbag. His eyes looked to be having a hard time focusing on Sam, looks like they both were sporting head injuries.

"You're alive," Sam slurred out. He caught himself and wondered how hard he'd hit his head.

"Yeah, last time I checked I was still amongst the living," Quinton said with a shake of his head and a light moan. "What was that jackass doing? He could have killed us!"

"We're not out of the woods yet man. Last time I checked we were still trapped inside the car," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah," Quinton agreed with a sigh. "It's freaking freezing. My poor car!"

Sam smiled to himself, Quinton almost sounded like Dean. That's what drew Sam to at least stomaching Quinton's company; sometimes he just said things that reeked of his older brother's personality.

"Can you get out?"

Sam turned and looked at Quinton with tired eyes. "My legs are stuck; I can't even feel them anymore."

Quinton's eyes shot down to where Sam's feet disappeared under the dashboard.

"Your phone," Sam said suddenly.

"I tried," Quinton explained. "It's broken… what about yours?"

"It's down by my feet; I don't think it made it."

"We have to get out of here Sam; no one knows where we are."

"I know," Sam sighed and looked down at his feet. He really didn't want to touch them but knew deep down that it would be something he would have no control over.

Do or die.

"Let's do it."


TBC...