I´m back:)

Thanks to everyone, who took the time to read and review, I really appreciate it.

Once more thanks to the amazing Soncnica, who helped me salt and burn some plot holes in this one:)

Warnings for blood, swearing and maybe medical procedures(Is that a thing?Idk)

Set in Season 2, after "Nightshifter", so while the FBI is already searching for the boys

Looks like old McQuire had been right about the storm.

The old man claimed to be a veteran in both the Vietnam and the Korean war, which could be true enough, but then again, he also claimed he once spend the night of his life with Marilyn Monroe in a drug store´s backroom in Vegas. Whichever the case may be, Timothy Mcquire was a harmless old fellow with second stage lung cancer who had charmed his way into the hearts of nurses and doctors alike and whenever she had taken his readings or administered another dose of morphine in the last couple of days he had told her that he could feel a storm coming, could feel it deep in his bones right where he'd „caught a bullet" back in 1952.

And here it was.

It was only five in the afternoon, the end of her twelve hour shift at the Chicago General, and the strength of the wind caught her completely off guard when she left the air-conditioned building. It whipped her hair into her face and swept the harsh coldness of approaching winter under her coat in seconds. Dark clouds loomed threateningly over the skyscrapers, as if daring them to touch, just one little scrape and the floodgates would burst open. And open they would eventually, there was no doubt about it. The way it looked right now, she´d consider herself lucky if she reached her car without getting drenched.

Determined, she tightened the grip around her bag and quickened her steps, turning to the right towards the nearly empty staff parking lot. She didn´t look right or left, eyes fixed on the shape of her beat-up Corsa, second last on the right side, beside the ancient oak tree management promised to cut down every autumn before it resigned itself to its fate and took innocent cars (or their owners) with it.

When she felt cold steel pressed to her spine she barely suppressed a sigh. Stupid, Caroline, fucking stupid.

This was Chicago, after all, 2nd biggest city on the eastside and half the folks who landed themselves in the ER round here sported knife wounds or bullet holes. So far she´d been lucky, never walked the wrong street at the wrong time, but living in this city, she figured it would happen sooner or later.

"Okay, don´t move, don´t scream, okay?"

There was a hand on her shoulder now, not pushing or pulling or squeezing, just resting there as if to keep her in place.

"I got it"

Hoping to sound more confident than she felt, she began to mentally calculate the amount of money this would cost her. Not much regarding cash, and it wasn´t like she brought jewellery to work, but damn, that phone was new!

"You`re a nurse, right?"

Huh. Not the question she expected from someone who was pressing a gun to her back.

As a nurse she knew that appearances were nothing but deceiving, but her attacker´s voice sounded completely normal. A little raspy maybe, like its owner couldn't really afford cough syrup, but that was it. No greed, no threat, no triumph.

"Yes, I am." What was the point in lying anyway?

Her would-be robber/kidnapper/murderer took a deep breath "Okay, put your hands were I can see them and turn around slowly."

She obeyed silently, dropping her bag, stretching her hands out in front of her and turned around as slowly as she could.

Younger than I would have guessed. Younger than me, in any case. Fucking huge, and isn't that just perfect, she thought with a surge of resignation as she gave up on her last hope of escaping.

He held the gun with the kind of confidence that spoke of experience, but if she didn`t know better, she´d say there was something apologetic about his stance. He regarded her carefully and she forced her chin up, staring right back.

Upon closer inspection he looked worse than some of the cases she´d seen on the examination table today: Red-rimmed eyes, purple bags beneath, ugly bruises forming all over his pale face. His shirt was darkened by something that looked like dried blood to her eyes and she would know, but he held the gun steadily pointing at the centre of her chest.

"I need you to come with me."

She swallowed hard. Her money he could take, her phone, damnit, the car if he wanted but she wasn´t going to be kidnapped right now, during the daylight in a hospital´s parking lot with cars rushing behind them on the road and people talking and just no, no way, no…

"No, not like that! I promise I won´t hurt you."

She saw his mouth moving but it took awhile until the words penetrated the fog of panic in her mind. Not gonna hurt me, right.

As if reading her thoughts the guy lowered the gun a little. "I mean it. You gotta believe me."

"What do you need me for?"

It had been her voice saying that but she felt strangely disconnected from her mouth, like this wasn´t happening to her at all.

But with that one sentence the balance between them shifted. She was still the one being held at gunpoint but all of a sudden it felt like he was the vulnerable one.

"My brother. He´s badly hurt and he needs more help than I can give him…"

He didn't need to say the „And we can´t afford to go to the hospital" for her to hear it. No insurance, criminals, apparently, maybe even wanted, but while her mind was still processing this information, something deep within her already knew the answer and it had nothing to do with the gun.

"Show me"

The rain began to fall in earnest as they started to make their way over the parking lot and into small side roads leading away from the hospital. Tall Guy, as she decided to call him for a lack of a better term, had tucked the gun away for now but he was always walking half a step behind her and she had no doubt that he meant business. If all this really was about an injured brother, and her gut told her he hadn't lied about that, she could actually sorta understand the guy. She´s seen people die, seen their families in the waiting room and knew what they would have given to avoid that, what everyone would give. It was only two years since her Jonny lost his fight and if there had been a gun lying around back then, God knew what she would have done.

"You can have my jacket if you want."

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Tall Guy suddenly broke the silence. It took her a few seconds to process his offer and register that she was indeed shivering. What now, a criminal with manners?

„No, thank you." This is so surreal.

He led her around another couple of corners into a part of the town she had never been to. Every second window was barred up or broken, the walls filled with crude words in all kinds of languages, some of whom she couldn´t even identify. They didn´t meet many people but those they came across lurked in the alleyways and leaned on the dumpsters and it all looked so much like a cliché she wanted to believe it was fake.

What was odd, however, was the way her captor always made sure to keep his body between her and everyone else, as if to shield her. There were no words spoken, no obvious movements and at first she didn´t even realize he was doing it at all, but after awhile she noticed the pattern, the way he always managed to stand between her and possible danger and she had to admit to herself that she was impressed. There was something about him that set him apart from everyone else and even though there was something undoubtedly predatory about him she instinctively knew that she wasn´t the one that needed to be afraid.

"Right over there."

He came to a stop in front of a rundown abandoned store building. The front door had been broken out of its hinges and the walls had deep cracks and all in all it looked like the kind of place you wouldn´t leave with all your body parts attached.

Her captor didn´t hesitate to step through the door, not even looking behind himself as if he was completely certain she´d follow him anyway and before her mind could fully realize her chance for flight her feet had already carried her over the doorstep.

It was dark inside, the remaining daylight easily swallowed by thick stone walls. Outside, she could hear the rain beating down on concrete as her eyes adjusted. She stood in a long hallway with doors on both sides and she had to squint to make out the form of the guy that brought her here, hurrying down the corridor with increasing speed, leaving a trail of water that dripped from his soaked clothes.

"It's down here" He called over his shoulder, his voice bouncing off the walls as he beckoned her to follow,

She took off after him, stepping through puddles and over bottles and plastic bags and then she saw him disappearing through the last door on the left side.

There was a sharp intake of breath, a muffled curse and then

"Hey, hey, hey, Dean, what are you doing? I told you to stay down and wait, come on, stop it!"

She could only hear a low groan before she stepped around the corner.

To be honest, she didn´t really know what she expected. Something bad, obviously, since her captor wouldn´t have bothered threatening her with a gun for a paper cut. But this…

She didn´t want to imagine how this even happened.

Tall Guy was leaning over a man who was laying on a couple of dirty blankets, hands on his chest and shoulder to stop him from struggling while keeping up a constant litany of "It´s gonna be okay, Dean" and "Quit movin, you idiot!".

"Dean" didn't really listen to him. From her position it looked like he didn´t even fully realize there was someone in the room with him, but after one closer look she had to admit she was surprised he was conscious at all. His face was covered in cuts and bruises; there were several smaller bandages on his right leg where his jeans had been cut open. And then there was what looked like second degree burns that covered his entire left torso, running from the shoulder down to his hipbone.

"Smmy, tha´you?"

His voice was gruff and slurred and the words more a whisper than anything, yet they froze both her and her captor to the spot. Dean had stopped struggling to stare at his brother, eyes fogged over with confusion, but for a few moments he seemed able to focus on the face in front of him and he lifted a shaky hand to grip the taller one´s shoulder.

"Yeah, man, it´s me. I brought someone here to help you."

She could see the cords in his neck straining as he slowly turned his head and squinted in her direction, then his eyes widened.

"No, no… told you you shouldn´t… is too dangerous…" His slurring became more and more agitated, his hand grasping at his brother's shirt as if he would shake some sense into him if he had the strength for it.

"Hey calm down, it´s alright, it´s taken care of; no one will know we were here."

She couldn´t make sense of what they were talking about and so she just blocked the conversation out. She was here for a reason, after all and she intended to get this done. And try not to think about what would happen to her after closer, she could feel her brain switch into triage mode, eyes methodically roaming over her patient's body to locate every hidden injury, in order to be able to determine what would kill him first.

"Okay, what injuries did you find?"

She dropped down next to the brothers, interrupting their conversation and stared at Tall Guy imploringly.

He immediately straightened up and gave her a run down: Multiple small cuts and bruises on his legs and arms already wrapped, black eye, assumed concussion, two cracked rips and excessive burn marks on his torso, basically what she expected. He talked without hesitation, all the while keeping a reassuring hand on his brother´s arm.

Definitely not his first ride.

"Look, I would have done this himself, honestly, but the burns are too deep and widespread for me to deal with I didn´t know what else to …"

He trailed off, looking at one of the puddles on the ground and if she could forget that he threatened her with a gun that was still hooked in the waistband of his jeans she might even feel sympathy for the guy, even though it was a little too late for apologies now. She turned back to her patient.

"Okay, Dean, I´m quickly going to check you over, try to stay still and tell me if I hurt you."

Dean´s eyes had slowly closed during their conversation and he didn´t seem to even register her words, but when she carefully placed a hand on his leg he shot up straight, eyes filled with panic "No, no, please! Not Sammy, no, I won´t let you,I won´t-"

"Dean, calm down, it´s okay! It´s done, remember? I´m fine, thanks to you. You´re with me, alright?"

While she froze to the spot at his obvious distress his brother had leaned in closer, placing both hands on either side of Dean's face. "You are okay, big brother, just a little banged up and I brought someone here to help with that, okay? Dean?" They stared at each other in silence, Dean´s frantic breathing slowing down with every passing second until he sagged forward in exhaustion, only kept up straight by his brother's hands.

"Are you with me now?"

"Yeah, I´m with you" Dean´s voice was wrecked and bone tired but he actually sounded coherent.

She watched the exchange in silence , giving them space, because she didn´t know this guy, had no idea what he had done, how he had come to where he was now, but she has worked this job long enough to know what trauma looked like.

She stopped judging her patients long ago. Taking heroine, getting in knife fights, drinking yourself to a coma, those things would get you hurt, but recognizing that was the responsibility of the person on the examination table. Her job was the fixing up; giving them the chance to actually come to that conclusion. So to her it didn´t really matter what this Dean guy got himself into, she would do her job as best as she could.

She remained motionless until the younger brother turned his eyes to her, because another thing she had learned to recognize over the years was when she couldn´t help, when her patients needed something or someone else to ground them and it was obvious that Dean needed his brother. Once he gave her a nod, she turned back to the injured man in front of her. "I will make this gentle and quick, tell me when you need a break." She held his gaze until he nodded and then got to work.

She quickly patted him down, checking the blood circulation in his limbs and his pupil reaction for signs of brain injury and taking his pulse. Her patient remained silent during the whole procedure, only speaking to answer her Who, When and What questions with monosyllable responses, never even flinching away and while it made her work easier, there was something deeply wrong with somebody being this unfazed by being in obvious pain.

"Okay, like your brother said, you are sporting heavy bruises on both of your legs, but there is no muscle or bone damage from what I can tell. Your temperature is elevated but not yet dangerously so. Eye reaction is fine and you´re oriented enough that we don´t have to worry about any dangerous brain injuries right now."

She turned to the younger brother "It goes without saying that this is field triage at best and all of this should be checked out in an actual hospital."

"Yeah, I know" He looked down at his knees, voice cracking a little and she fought the sudden urge to tell him everything´s gonna be okay. A nurse cannot allow herself to make promises like that.

"And you were right to worry about the burns. What first aid supplies do you have?"

He hurried over to the corner and brought a big first aid kit with him that she didn´t notice before simply because it was so old it was barely recognizable as such. Its contents consisted mainly out of gauze and bandages that looked at least as old as the thing itself. She didn´t need to look at the expiration dates to know that none of them should be used on open wounds anymore, but there was nothing she could do about that now. At the bottom of the kit was a smaller box containing all sorts of half empty pill bottles, some pretty heavy pain killers, others prescription antibiotics. Definitely not your average family med kit, but the only thing that counted for her was that it was all still usable.

"Do you have clean water?" She turned to Tall Guy who nodded and reached for one of several sealed bottles standing close to the wall.

"Soak these" She held out a couple of bandages. He wordlessly complied.

"We need to clean the wounds before we can start wrapping them." She explained to both brothers. "It´s not gonna be pretty, but we´ll be quick."

She slipped on a pair of surgical gloves that was still in her pocket before taking one of the soaked bandages that Tall guy handed her. "You ready?"

"Will you two stop now when I say no?" Dean managed a crocked grin that she couldn't help but return before she shook her head. "Didn´t think so", he mumbled before closing his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. She looked up at his brother and was momentarily taken aback by the mixture of adoration, affection and concern that warred on his features. She cleared her throat and he snapped to attention. "We´ve got work to do."

They worked mostly in silence, Tall Guy carefully peeling his brother´s tattered shirt away from the skin and she cleaned as best as she could. The burned skin was already starting to peel of, blisters forming all over while she carefully tried to wash the worst of the grime away. Dean took it all without complaining, clenching his teeth whenever the pain got too bad. Whenever he tensed up his brother would place a gentle hand on his body or mumble something under his breath and Dean would relax a little. It took them what felt like an hour until they could start wrapping the burns with bandages covering his complete torso. When they were finished Tall Guy produced a couple of old moldy blankets they wrapped around him carefully.

It was only when she took Dean´s pulse while his brother put the last of the stuff away, satisfied that it was much slower than before, that she became aware of the silence. The rain had stopped and the sound of her patient´s labored breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room.

"What do you think?"

She stood up from where she was crouched next to Dean, discarding her gloves and putting them into her pocket.

"The biggest danger right now is a possible infection. He needs stronger stuff than what you have here; he needs warmth and an actual bed." She felt a pang of regret at her harsh words when she saw Tall Guy sinking into himself, but the truth was rarely pretty in her profession.

"I know, and believe me, if I could take him to a hospital, I would-"

"Well, if you care about him, then you damn well should and damn the consequences! In jail he would at least have an actual bed to lie on!"

Why are you doing this, Caroline?It´s not your problem, just leave it-

But she couldn´t, it went against her every instinct. Maybe she made a vow to herself not to get involved into her patients shit but no one could ever accuse her of not caring about them.

Tall guy laughed then, a harsh, bitter sound. "You have no idea what you are talking about." His voice dropped into a dangerous growl, but she wasn´t scared, not when there was only sadness in his eyes.

He turned away from her, gaze lingering on his sleeping brother´s form.

"There are things out there killing people. Dean, he tried to protect someone from them, that´s how he got hurt."

He turned his eyes back to her. "If we go to the hospital, they will find us."

She stared at him, trying to comprehend what she just heard. "What do you mean with: things that hurt people?"

Tall Guy rubbed a hand down his face, apparently fighting with himself before he sighed.

"Look, it´s complicated and I know it sounds insane, but it´s the truth. You got to believe me."

She´d heard a few crazy things in her time, that was for sure, but for a second she was convinced that it would be the best course of action to call her colleagues from the psychological department to make two more beds ready.

What´s that even supposed to mean: things?Are we talking monsters here?

On the other hand there was the fact that she had always prided herself in having good instincts when it came to people and after everything she´d seen of this guy, he just didn´t appear to be insane. Scarily good with a gun, utterly protective and in way over his head, yes, but not crazy.

She took a deep breath, the ache in her temples reminding her that this day had already been long enough as it was and made her decision.

"You know what? Fuck it. I don´t care. I can´t just say I believe you, but you don´t exactly scream "bat shit crazy" to me either. So, there´s that."

She swallowed, steeling herself. " What´s gonna happen now?"

Tall Guy actually looked confused for a second before catching on. "Nothing. You can go."

Wait, what?

"Aren´t you scared I´m gonna call the police or something?"

Wow, smooth. Why are you not offering to shoot yourself to save him the trouble?

"Sure, but I guess that´s the risk I gotta take."

Part of her was still waiting for him to break out laughing anytime, but he looked completely sincere. Well, that sincerity won´t keep his brother alive if he gets an infection.

She turned around and made her way over to the entrance where she had dropped her bag when she arrived. "Make sure he stays warm, try to get him to drink and take some antibiotics." She took a deep breath. "I´ll see you tomorrow."

She wanted to turn and leave, but there was a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Thank you. Really, thank you so much for your help. I have no idea what I would´ve don-"

Up until this point in her professional life, no one has ever looked at her as incredibly grateful as this run down, dirty street guy and that was enough to know she´d made the right call here.

"Save it, kid. It´s my job, now, isn´t it?"

"My name is Sam."

Sam, huh? Alright, Tall Guy.

She reached for his hand. "I´m Caroline."

I can´t really believe I´m doing this.

The next evening she saw him directly after stepping out of the hospital. He was leaning against a lamppost on the other side of the street, huddled deeply into a sweater.

She hardly slept the night before, going over and over her decision in her mind but in the end she just couldn´t bring herself to forget about them. She should be more professional than this, of course she should, but Sam´s grateful words, the fear in his eyes and the feeling of Dean´s burning skin under her fingers just wouldn´t leave her mind and so when the time came she opened the medicine cabinet in the nurse´s room and slipped a couple of clean bandages, an IV set and some heavy-duty antibiotic in her bag. She was the station´s head nurse, which meant it wasn´t that much of a problem to cover for the missing supplies and even though the endless mantra of "I could loose my job" followed her all day she didn´t put them back into the cabinet.

She wordlessly followed Sam, who took a different route than yesterday, through the endless maze of dark alleys and poorly lit streets. Dean looked somehow even worse than yesterday and that was enough to make her forget all about the trouble she could get in for taking the meds. Like she had feared, the wounds were getting infected and what little medicine Sam had managed to give him was clearly fighting a loosing battle. She changed the soaked through bandages, set the IV up and dosed him up with the antibiotics she´d brought. Sam let her do it, one hand on Dean´s shoulder, the other absentmindedly ruffling his brother´s hair.

"He hasn´t been lucid since yesterday"

She was almost finished changing Dean´s bandages when his brother first spoke up. His voice was heavy with exhaustion and worry and she heard the plea in it, the unspoken please tell me he´s okay, say it´s gonna be fine.

"That doesn´t have to mean anything" Not really an answer, but she couldn´t bring herself to say that it didn´t look good. Dean´s temperature was too high and his heart rate too low and if this antibiotic currently running through his veins couldn´t fight the infection there was not much left that she could do here.

"Have you slept at all tonight?"

A change of topic was in order, even though one look at how Sam was swaying even where he was sitting made her question unnecessary.

"I had to make sure Dean´s ok."

And damn if that didn´t make her eyes burn. Thirty years she´d been working in health care now, caring for people everyday and watching them suffer and watching them die and sometimes it was hard; hard to remember that there was a reason to all of it. There was a reason to keep fighting for every patient, simply because there were people who love each other like that. Simply because of that kind of devotion that was in every word Sam said about his brother.

Please, don´t make me loose this one.

"Well, I can take over for a while. Lay down before you fall down, kid."

Sam muttered his protests and shook his head but before she was completely done with the bandages he had sunk down next to his brother, shoulder to shoulder, fast asleep.

She sat next to them silently until night had completely taken over the room, her phone screen the only source of light.

When Sam woke up, Dean´s temperature had started to go down somewhat and when she left, he walked her all the way back to her car.

The next day she looked for him when she left her work, but he wasn´t there. She waited for over half an hour before she reluctantly drove home, trying not to think about what this could mean. He didn´t come the day after that and the day after that she decided she´d had enough.

It took her two more days of searching the city after hours until she´d found the old warehouse again and when she stepped through the door she could already tell they were gone. She didn´t realize she was holding her breath until she stepped into the last room on the left and didn´t find Dean´s body.

Instead, there was a single white piece of paper in the place where he had been. She picked it up to see a phone number.

If you ever need help.

Sam and Dean

Alright, there you have it. Reviews are love:)