Chapter 2

The first thing Dean's fuzzy mind registered was the searing pain engulfing him.

Desperately, he tried to breathe through it and flow with it.

He had been in intense pain often enough in his life to know it was the only way to survive its assault in the long run - or in a dangerous situation.

Although he tried hard to gather intel about what was happening the persistent agony blocked most of his efforts.

He was hovering in a grey mist of desperation, not able to open his eyes, sense his surroundings, remember where he was, or what had happened.

Panic mingled with the aches and heightened them.

"Dean, slow down, boy."

Bobby's voice.

A rush of relief went through him.

If Bobby was there it was only half as bad as it could be. Bobby had experience, he'd take care of things.

Bobby wouldn't let them die.

Bobby would help him, protect him… them.

Where was Sam?

When he tried to open his eyes once more, something beat him to it.

Rough hands lifted one of his eyelids, then the other, and he was gasping from the additional pain a bright white light caused by mercilessly burning right into his brain.

He tried to batter the hands away but he found his movements were so weak it barely had any effect.

"That's it, come on. Wake up."

Someone was slapping him.

Since the pain from his leg was keeping him from breathing properly, the minute pain took a moment to register.

His leg…

With an uncomfortable rush the memories came back.

Sam was in danger!

They had fled from Sioux Falls Hospital in an ambulance. Only minutes after he had woken up, Bobby had entered his hospital room and given him quite a shock.

Now he experienced that shock of realizing his surrogate father was alive a second time. The relief once more made him gasp.

"You're alive," he slurred.

"I thought we already pinpointed that," came the gruff reply.

Dean managed a weak smile, glad to have the older man around and taking care of things.

Right, they had managed to sped away from the Leviathan-driven meat suit of a former doctor who was trying to kill them.

"Sam?"

"Still out."

Dean tried to sit up, he needed to make sure his sibling was alright.

But he couldn't, he felt weak as a kitten, his hands were trembling.

"Hush, stay down for a bit longer, or you'll pass out again."

It took him a moment to remember that when they had left town he was about to read Sam's medical report, but before he could do so the obnoxious rushing sound of approaching unconsciousness had distracted him.

While his vision had started to develop growing black spots he had desperately tried to fight the approaching darkness, but in the end it was no use.

After a few more moments that felt like an eternity he had blacked out, unable to stop it, at the end of his tether.

"Sam…" he tried to sit up once more.

"He's alright," Bobby mumbled while he held Dean down, who now realized he was on a very uncomfortable uneven surface, one leg dangling, bent at the knee.

When he finally managed to force his eyes open he saw he was still in the ambulance, spread across both front seats, his head on the passenger seat, his butt half on the driver seat, half under the steering wheel.

Kneeling on the seat on one leg was Bobby, leaning over him.

The pain in his broken shin seemed to get even worse.

He closed his eyes again, trying in vain to keep the agony at bay.

Bobby reached for his wrist and checked his pulse, unnerved, he tried to jerk his hand away but was unable to succeed.

"His head… what ab't his head?" Dean slurred, trying to focus on something more important.

"It's going to be alright, just a bad concussion…"

His tone of voice was indicating Bobby was trying to soothe him – rough and tough Bobby, who rarely wasted time with such nonsense.

But it made Dean feel even more pathetic.

"How bad is the pain?"

"'ve been better."

"Alright, I need you to sit up – slowly. Don't need another swan dive here."

Without waiting for an answer Bobby slowly started to pull him into an upright position, supporting his shoulders.

Dean groaned in pain before he could shut his mouth. His ribs were protesting viciously, flooding him with even more pain.

"Yeah, sorry. Couple of fractured rips," Bobby said, empathy in his voice.

"Hit one o' your f'ckin' jun'cars," Dean managed to press out through clenched teeth.

"Here, swallow these."

Bobby held out two round pills and a small bottle of water.

"Painkillers?"

The older man nodded, "Fast acting. Come on."

When Dean tried to pick them up he almost dropped the pills, his movements were clumsy and out of sync.

The other man helped him by dropping the pills into his open hand and guiding the hand to his mouth, he then unscrewed the bottle and held it to Dean's mouth, allowing him to take small sips.

"Alright," he said as soon as Dean was finished. "Let's get you inside, son. Sam's already there."

It seemed to take ages until Dean was standing next to the bulky vehicle, one arm over Bobby's shoulders and then they started hobbling towards the motel room.

The ambulance was parked with its back right in front of the door, but the twenty feet to the door turned out to be quite an obstacle. Luckily the parking lot was completely empty and the view blocked with quite a lot of overgrown un-manicured vegetation. The motel looked rundown even for Dean's standards.

While trying to get into the ambulance in haste, Dean had let the crutches fall to the ground, so now he had nothing to lean on except the other man.

When they finally reached one of the queen sized beds in the room Dean was bathed in sweat and panting heavily.

The intense pain made him feel sick.

Nothing new, this happened when it reached a certain level.

With great effort he managed to fumble for Bobby's sleeve, he didn't dare to open his mouth, afraid he'd hurl right then and there.

Bobby must have understood because a moment later something was placed in his lab and his head was pushed over it not too gently.

Dean was barely aware what was happening around him in the minutes that followed, the one thing he felt for certain was a strong arm behind his back, holding him upright and the dim realization that he was puking his guts out for what felt like hours.

"There goes the painkiller," Bobby mumbled nearby.

Finally, what must have been a trashcan was taken away.

With great care Bobby helped him remove his jacket and shoe, then supported his head while he lowered him down. A pillow was shoved under the heavy cast.

The bone deep aches in his leg and torso were robbing him of the ability to think clearly. And also to move properly.

It fucking hurt!

But there were more pressing matters.

"Sam?" he croaked.

"He's on the gurney, next to you. He's gonna be fine. Don't move!"

Dean turned his throbbing head and blinked a few times until his vision was clear enough to see his baby brother strapped into a gurney that was parked behind the other bed.

"You stay where you are, I'm gonna search the ambulance for more painkillers."

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I'd love to get feedback.

I'm not a native speaker and trying to improve my English. Hope it was not too hard to read with all the grammar mistakes.

If you like this story you might also like my other two stories, because I am a H/C junkie and love to use that in my writing.