"Cliffhanger"
Chapter 2
Notes: Okay, so here's Chapter 2, not such a long wait, but only because I want to post it on the same day as the "Season 4 Premiere" hears drum-rolls in background – It is going to be the best season ever! (are you seeing a pattern here? Do I seem a little obsessed?) ROFL. Next chapter will be up next week Thursday and then every Thursday after that … unless I'm threatened … it is called 'Cliffhanger' after all ;0)
For those of you who are wondering … this is set somewhere before Sam goes to college, so Sam is about 18, Dean 22.
Thanks as always to my beta's Phoebe and Amarintha who manage to calm me down when I'm having one of my panic attacks … writing fanfic is nerve wrecking damnit LOL ;0) – And to everyone who's read, fav'd, alerted and reviewed … you guys rock! (excuse the pun)
Warning: Language … still 'fudging' away … it's fun actually ROFL ;0)
Dean's POV
The incessant ringing pulls me from deep sleep.
"Jus … five more … minutes …"
I take a shallow breath, feeling strangely detached from my body. Can barely hear my own voice … the ringing doesn't stop though … frickin' alarm clocks.
Cold.
Shit it's freezing ... and I'm tired … crap, I'm seriously exhausted … must've been a rough night. A heaviness pushes on my chest … feels like someone's lying over me.
Damnit Sammy …
"Get your … own bed … Sasquatch!"
Breathless. Oh god … headache … starting to pound behind closed eyes … I seriously need a Tylenol.
Need to move … get up … that's what I need.
OWMOTHERFUCKER! My eyes fly open and then instantly shut again. Okay, okay … not such a good idea to move.
The sudden onslaught of pain brings instant awareness as I bite back the urge to scream at the top of my lungs. But that's gonna hurt. Instead I groan loudly, my nose flaring as I take slow, steadying breaths. Something shifts inside my chest … SONOVABITCH! … that's unpleasant … and to make matters worse my body starts shaking involuntarily, sending more ripples of little agonies through every cell … just frickin' peachy!
Okay breathe … just need to breathe … ahhh … shit!
What the hell happened? I try to focus, slowly opening my heavy eyelids again … vision's all blurry, fading in and out. I'm looking up … at a metallic grey sky, soft white flakes drifting down towards me. Strange frickin' ceiling. What hellhole did we book into this time? Can taste the sickly, coppery tang of blood pooling at the back of my throat. I frown, pulling my face in disgust as I'm forced to swallow. Blood? I fight the sudden urge to gag. Something wet behind my throbbing head … probably more blood … not a good sign. Okay, so I'm not in Kansas anymore. I tentatively move my hand … cold surface … mountain … then panic … heartbeat races … falling, I remember falling … Sammy?
"Sammy?"
Ow! Ow! Okay … move slowly dumbass …
"Sammy!"
My voice croaks as I carefully turn my head to look at him. Oh god! Oh god! He's lying next to me … my body still half wrapped around his. From what I can see we're so close to the edge that just a small shove could send us both plummeting down the cliff again. I swallow uncomfortably as I try to look around and get my bearings. I can't see much, can barely move, but I guess we landed on one of those ledges I saw earlier, fairly wide by the looks of things, but right on the edge. I almost laugh out loud … holy crap … we actually survived that fall? Wait … Sammy … he's lying deadly still in the crook of my completely numb arm. Holding onto him like this is the only thing that's keeping him from falling.
I panic again, instinctively wanting to pull him to safety … but everything hurts, joints are stiff and aching. I'm going to be one big bruise in the morning. I try to see his face, his long hair falling loosely over his eyes, but I still notice the sticky redness splattered along his pale skin. Oh shit, this is so not good. I hold my breath, relief suddenly flooding me as I feel the soft puffs of air hitting me on my cheek … at least he's breathing, mean's he has a heartbeat … thank god … but I know we're both in the deepest kind of shit over here. We need to get out somehow …
The ringing starts again … the phone … it's still working. At least something survived the fall in one piece, but that also means I can get help. I move my hand slowly to reach into my jacket pocket, feeling the pull of bruised muscles and possibly broken ribs … I twist slightly … OW FUCK! … yup … definite broken ribs. I close my eyes, huffing through the sharp stabs as I reach for the phone again, pressing the answer button before trying to hold it near my ear with a very unsteady hand.
"Dean … where the hell have you boy's been, I've been calling you for over an hour! What did I tell you about answering the damn phone?"
"Dad …?"
"I've just left that things lair, no sign of it, just old bones and the stench of decay … I'm headed in your direction, did you find anything?"
"Dad … I …?"
"I don't need to tell you that if that thing gets away again, it's going to kill a whole lot more innocent people!"
Yeah, well no need to worry Dad …I killed it … just like you taught me.
"…we … got it!"
I feel lightheaded, the effort of saying those few words, completely taking what little breath I have away. But I have a bigger problem … Sam needs help, I need help … just need to tell Dad …
"Okay … good. Great work son … where are you … I'm on my way …"
"Dad …?"
I don't miss the irritated huff … the pang in my chest becoming more than just broken ribs.
"What?"
"Dad … Sammy …"
There's a deadly silence but it's short lived. He automatically knows when something's wrong, 'specially when it comes to Sammy. I haven't forgotten that incident with the Shtriga, a lesson I'll never forget in a hurry. His stern commands start barking across the line, I was expecting this … I almost move the phone away from ear again … my head buzzing loudly, a strange pressure somewhere in my skull, behind my eyes … I'm pretty sure my brain's coming loose from it's fittings ... feels like it wants to explode.
"What is it Dean? Where's Sam? Is he hurt? What happened? Answer me damnit … did he get hurt?"
Too many questions, dude … one at a time …
"Yeah … I'm sorry, Dad … I tried … to pull him up …"
"Oh god … oh god … Dean, how bad is it, where are you?"
His voice is rough and deep with a mixture of anger and concern. I swallow the lump in my throat, bitter tears threatening to overwhelm me …
"Fell Dad … I couldn't stop it, I tried … I held on …"
"SHIT DEAN!"
I jump slightly, cringing as the jarring movement sends more spikes of agony through my battered body. I can hear him fighting for control … oh yeah, he's so going to tear me a new one.
I think I must've blacked out for a few seconds because I realize he's been talking to me and I've missed about half of what he's said, rattling off instructions with rapid fire, so I try to concentrate … listening … knowing that what he's saying is important.
"Dean … you hear me?"
"… Yessir."
"I need you to pull yourself together okay, your brother needs you to be strong, you can't fall apart now … where is he?"
My brow furrows … what? Fall apart? He thinks I'm having some sort of nervous breakdown? Well maybe I am … but seriously, dude? I'd snort in amusement if I didn't think it would hurt.
"Cliff … on a ledge … we landed on a ledge."
"Cliff? He landed on a ledge? Okay, okay …"
I feel like Lassie trying to relay a message, he doesn't seem to understand ... I need to try and explain ... but I don't feel too good, my mouth just moving soundlessly. Want to just close my eyes for a little while, but his commanding voice won't let me.
"Dean … you listening?"
"Yes … sir …"
I can almost hear him running his hand through his hair irritably, probably imagining a bunch of scenarios in his head, calling on all his experience as a Marine medic.
"I think I know where you are, it's that climbing spot on the east side, right? There's a climbing path down the face of the mountain somewhere close by. Popular with hikers. It's treacherous, but it will come in handy. Make your way to your brother Dean and I'll make a pass by the campsite to get our gear … call for a rescue team."
"Yeah … but ...
"Listen to me son … you look after your brother until I get there. You get to him, but for godsake be careful … give him what first aid you can, keep him warm, everything I taught you … look after him and keep him alive! You hear me Dean, his life is in your hands … I'm on my way!"
I pull in a shaky breath in an effort to speak, if he'd just let me get a word in edgeways …
"Kay … but Dad …"
A hollow click echoes in my ear as he cuts me off. He doesn't hear my answer … I look at the phone stupidly … he cut me off ... I blink, trying to clear the haze of confusion.
Okay, guess I'll just have talk to him later.
I close my eyes, just wanting to drift back into the beckoning call of sleep, but they instantly fly open as I remember … need to keep Sammy warm … first aid … keep him alive … his life is in my hands …
I turn my head slowly once more to look over at my little brother … god … he looks like all kinds of crap. His skin is pasty … bruises crawling across his face … a mixture of his and my blood everywhere … I need to get up … need to help him …
"I won't … let you down again … Sammy ... I promise."
I lie still for another minute, trying to gather my thoughts. Okay, need to first do a quick self check. I move each appendage carefully, testing them. Right hand and wrist moving. Right arm moving. Right foot and ankle moving. Right leg moving. Left arm … not so much. Left leg … hard to tell, can't feel anything past my throbbing knee … in fact, most of my left side is completely numb, if you don't count the blinding pain in my chest every time I inhale.
I don't let that stop me though. I slowly start pulling myself, and Sammy by proxy, as I drag our asses painstakingly slowly away from the edge. Sore and bruised muscles making each movement a little taste of blinding hell. I don't know how long it takes, but I'm sweating heavily, breathing hard, and coughing up blood by the time I've moved us far enough to be at a safe distance from the edge.
It takes me a lifetime to carefully lift Sammy's head from my seriously damaged shoulder. I know it was dislocated before I fell, but something else is loose now, an educated guess telling me it's probably a broken collar bone. Can't really tell, can't move my neck enough to look down and see. I can only thank whichever gods are looking out for us today that there's no pain accompanying the unnatural angle of the bone. The same goes for my leg. My left knee is so swollen it's stretching my jeans, but there's no pain, thanks to Sam's weight numbing the area. But I'm pretty sure that when my arm and leg decide to wake up and join the party in my chest, I'm definitely going to have to pass out.
I use my good arm to sit up but can't find a comfortable position. I bite my lip, scrunching my eyes tight, as I try to compose myself. It's official … I really hate pain ... even more than rats. I shift carefully … hearing a muted squeak ... instantly on alert, scanning the area … shit wish I had my gun. I sigh in amusement, almost faint with relief when I realize it's just the heel of my boot that's made that noise … okay, maybe not more than rats. I can't help but snort at my pansy-ass-self. Sammy would rag me no end if he'd seen me right now.
My arm is trembling violently under my weight. Passing out is already starting to sound like a good plan and my consciousness weaves in and out at that thought … but I need to make sure Sam is okay first.
I manage to shrug off the 3 layers of my jacket, shirt and undershirt with careful precision, using my own stubbornness to fight off the urge to just collapse right here and leave things the way they are for Dad to handle. But Sammy needs me. I can't get them off my left arm but I pull them down as far as I can and wrap them gently around Sam, cocooning him as best I can. I'm left with my tee and thermal vest … I'm also wearing the matching thermal undies under my jeans … something I was hoping not to share with Dad or Sam … but they're so awesomely warm, something the 'boys' seriously appreciate, cause it's freezing up here at night. I grin at that thought, definitely delirious over here.
My next plan of action ends up becoming a blank stare. I blink in confusion. I'm in shock, body wants to shut down. Need to concentrate. Need to check Sam for damage. He needs my help, I need to keep him alive. It becomes my mantra as I tear a piece of my shirt with my teeth. I use it as a compression over the sluggishly bleeding head wound behind Sammy's head. I cringe as I feel the huge egg shape bump there. The whole side of his face a mass of swelling bruises. His right eye already swollen shut from the trauma of the impact. The thought makes me ill and I find myself praying …for Sammy, for his life. I don't really believe … but now, it just somehow seems like the right thing to do.
"Hmmm …"
Hope warms my trembling body as I watch his eyes moving slightly behind closed lids.
"Hey? Sammy … you with me?"
Lines of pain etch their way along his brow.
"Dhn…"
His voice is barely a whisper but the relief is instant … I'd enjoy it more if everything would stop spinning for a second.
"Yeah … it's me, kiddo … can you open your eyes?"
He attempts to move, the squelching, sticky sound of the blood beneath his head nearly making me throw up.
"Don't move, Sammy … stay still … can you do that … for me?"
"Kay …"
The rattling in his chest as he exhales is matching the sound coming from my own. God, I hope someone comes to rescue us soon … I hate hospitals, but I'd love to see one round about now. Sharp stabs are starting to run up my arm, the blissful numbness slowly disappearing just as I feared.
"Hey Sam … try to open your eyes … for me."
He groans, barely audible, before frowning … opening his one eye briefly before shutting it again.
"Sam … please buddy … try to look at me."
I'm huffing out each word … my own breathing becoming more labored, but he doesn't respond. My heart starts hammering in panic until I see the awkward rise and fall of his chest. He's just unconscious again … he's still alive.
It takes a moment, but I finally find the strength, a second breath in my waning energy. I roll up my shirt, and careful slip it under Sam's neck, for support and to open his airway to assist his breathing. I test his ribs, letting my sensitive fingers find any possible breaks. I try to catalogue what I know of his injuries … Dad will want that information. I continue to work methodically … blocking out everything else … a remoteness settles on me as I administer what little first aid I can to my seriously injured brother.
"DEAN … you down there?"
I jerk slightly as Dad's voice suddenly booms from somewhere above me.
"Yeah!"
It comes out so softly, I have to try again.
"YEAH!"
I cough, feeling warm blood bubbling up my throat. I quickly lean forward, half crawling, half dragging myself, before letting my head hang over the side of the ledge as I vomit. The pain is as intense as I suspected, but thankfully it doesn't last long and I watch sickly as streams of blood and what was left in my stomach, fall to the treetops below. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, huffing as I try to compose myself. I manage to pull myself slightly upright, leaning on my good arm. I watch Dad moving with speed down a rope ladder that I didn't even notice him throwing down. He jumps onto the ledge and instantly rushes to Sammy's side.
"Sam … oh god … son?"
I suddenly feel like I'm in the way, Dad needs to check on Sam, so I slowly pull myself over to the rock face. I lean back as the world suddenly tilts. Everything's okay now … Dad's here.
But he doesn't look at me, his focus is completely on Sam … blocking out the world around him. I watch him work in silence. He's brought his rucksack, which he rifles through, pulling out the first aid kit, followed by bandages and swabs and everything else he thinks he'll need. He's fast and efficient, he starts talking to no one in particular, listing all Sam's injuries and asking me the odd yes/no questions.
"Has he stopped breathing."
"No …"
"Has he woken up at all?"
"… Yes"
"Dean, get with the program. I need you to answer my questions."
"Yessir … but…"
He quickly spares me a tentative glance over his shoulder, frowning as he looks me over.
"Dean … you okay? … you look like crap …"
He watches me worriedly, but at least he doesn't sound angry. I'm suddenly relieved … I was beginning to think he might throw a punch my way.
"… you hurt yourself?
"Yeah …"
He stops for an instant, looking at me strangely again as I tentatively hold onto my injured and now violently throbbing arm.
"Damnit, Dean … how bad?"
He's still not shouting, just checks Sam's pulse again, before gently brushing his bangs off his face … then he stands and moves towards me. He kneels in front of me, his hand reaching for my forehead just as I close my eyes at his deep scrutiny, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.
"Shoulder … dislocated … and …"
"Okay, well just sit tight, kiddo, I'm going back up to get the rest of our gear and when I get back I'll take a look at that arm of yours. There's no way we're getting off this mountain tonight, not with that storm coming in. I spoke to one of the Rangers and he says the winds are too strong to attempt a rescue."
I shiver. Don't feel good. I'm going to be sick again. I swallow back the burning sensation threatening to make its way back up my throat.
"Besides we can't move your brother, I don't know the full extent of his injuries, and I don't think you'll be climbing out of here on your own steam either at this rate. We'll have to make camp. I'll try and get a signal up there, check that weather forecast and see when the helicopter can make it up here to fetch us."
He looks up at the darkening sky, the wind has picked up and the snow is falling in stronger drifts. I still look at him nervously … I'm pretty sure I can climb out of here and walk ... I don't need a helicopter … I lift an eyebrow in dazed confusion … okay … I think I'm losing it a bit …
"Just keep an eye on your brother, he seems stable but his breathing is kinda off … and hold your arm as still as you can, it looks bad, I won't be long."
I barely have enough energy to nod, let alone talk. My head rests against the rock behind me, while I try to relay my feelings with a look but he just nods at me instead, quickly making his way back up the rope ladder with amazing ease. I watch him disappear above me. He didn't let me finish … again … the man's on one of his missions, still a Marine through and through.
He hasn't noticed, can't see that I'm barely staying conscious, he doesn't know me, not well enough … I mean I spend every waking moment with the man, and he still doesn't know me … unshed tears sting my eyes as I swallow down my self pity.
My chest hurts like a mother, my breaths are more labored and slow … but I'm too exhausted to call after him … besides I need to watch over Sammy … that's all that matters now …
I try to move forward, needing to be close to the one person who does actually know me, but that becomes a bad idea as black spots dot my vision. I quickly lean back, taking slow, deep breaths, the numbness in my leg has also become a dull ache, frickin' marvelous. I close my eyes, hoping not to pass out just yet, I still have a job to do.
"Dean?"
Shit, I think I blacked out again … can feel the blood draining from my face as I open my eyes. I look at Dad, I need to tell him … he needs to listen this time … I seriously don't feel so good.
"Dean … you sure you're okay?"
I haven't been okay Dad …
"I … didn't …"
I try to push myself upright, a horrible sense of vertigo assaulting me as I put a steadying hand on the surface beneath me, still feeling my body toppling over. Dad is next to me in an instant, managing to stop my fall, but I yell out in agony as he grabs my broken ribs, feeling them move as he carefully positions himself half behind me and lowers me down, cradling me in his arms. The world fades out for a second as I try to remember how to breathe. He slaps my cheek as I try to focus on his face.
"Dean? … shit! What is it?"
I can see the panic in his eyes, I have to tell him something ... but I can barely think straight, trying to draw oxygen into my starving lungs …
"Dad … I didn't … I didn't, let go …"
The impact of my words finally seem to sink home, his eyes widening in shocked understanding … but I don't care anymore … just need to sleep … everything will be better when I wake up … I don't fight as my eyes roll back, the darkness pulling me under …
"Dean … look at me … please keep your eyes open son … DEAN! … DEAN!"
I try … for Dad, but I'm just too tired … his frantic shouts disappearing into the distance with my final whisper …
"… I didn't let go …"
TBC