Summary: The world seems to be conspiring against Sam and Dean. Will they survive the elements, their memories and a certain Yellow Eyed Demon? Conclusion to the They're Here Trilogy (They're Here and We're in for a Bumpy Ride) which are set post ELAC.
Chapter 3
He could hear a faint chirping noise that kept getting louder as he rose out of unconsciousness. The sound intensified the pounding in his tender head.
He slowly became aware of general discomfort throughout his body. Every large muscle group ached. His hands and forearms tingled. Something pinched the skin on the inside of his right elbow. Mild pressure thrummed against his left index finger. His nostrils twitched in irritation as something hard rubbed the tissue raw.
He braced himself before squinting his eyes open. Light filtered past his eyelashes and assaulted his brain. He turned his head to escape the brightness and his eyesight slowly came into focus. Someone was sitting next to his bed.
He tried to moisten his dry lips. "Sammy? That you?"
That someone stood up and towered over his bed. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his vision. "Just relax, Dean. I'll keep watch over you."
Bobby. He'd recognize that low, raw voice anywhere.
Dean was crushed. He wanted to see his brother. Instead Bobby was hovering over him with concern apparent in his crinkled brow while he twisted his baseball cap in a wringing motion with both hands.
He closed his eyes as exhaustion flooded through him.
-0-
The first thing he noticed was that he was soaked through. Misery penetrated deeply, burrowing into his bones, shivers racking his body.
He was lying prone on the mushy ground with his right cheek pressed tightly into the mud.
He could barely hear the traffic whirring close by through the relentless pounding in his head. Nausea churned fast and hard while bile climbed first into his throat and then mouth. He rocked and pushed off his arms in an effort to raise his body. The motion was abruptly halted as his right arm blazed with blinding pain. He collapsed back onto the soft ground and curled onto his left side while his stomach clenched and purged.
His stomach finally settled enough to try moving again. Moisture drained from his nose and eyes as he flipped onto his back.
He tried to catch his breath. His ribs ached from the abuse of emptying his stomach while the blood pounded through his ears in time to his heartbeat. He was still faint and nauseous but he needed to get off the damp ground. He rolled onto his knees cautiously, folding his right arm tightly against his stomach. He blearily noticed a white, chalky residue smeared across the appendage.
He gathered his strength before lurching to his feet. The weak sunshine pounded angrily into his eyes as he staggered up an incline toward the sounds coming from the road.
Something large hurtled at him from his left side and he barely had time to raise his left hand up to protect his face as a strong rush of air pushed him back. He tumbled backward, unable to regain his balance and landed on a hard, unforgiving surface. He was grateful for the reprieve from pain when he blacked out.
-0-
Dean was curled on his side, eyes clenched shut in denial.
Bobby shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Dean. There's been no sign of your brother. The forensics team is combing through the wreckage to find evidence of S…well, evidence that would help us figure out what happened to the boy."
Bobby's voice was low and mournful. And the way he pussyfooted around his words sounded like pity to Dean's sensitive ears.
Dean couldn't stand it. He didn't need anyone's pity. Sam wasn't dead. He'd know, somehow, if his brother had died.
Bobby cleared his voice. "I do have some good news. I had the Chevy towed to my place and it looks like the damage is pretty much cosmetic. I'll probably have it fixed up by the time you get out of here."
Good news. Good news would be having a plan to find Sam. Sure, he loved the Impala but the wheels paled in comparison to his brother. Not that he would ever tell his brother that. He didn't want Sammy getting a big head.
He kept his eyes closed and submitted to the awkward pat on his shoulder by the man who had self appointed himself Dean's guardian in his time of need. He was grateful for the support but what he really needed was someone who would help him find Sam.
Someone who thrilled at a challenge. Someone who had the equipment and know how to be really useful in tracking down obscure leads. Someone who also cared for Sam.
Ash.
He rolled over, careful not to put pressure on his forearms as he stretched for the telephone on the night stand next to his bed.
-0-
Gentle but insistent hands rolled him over onto to his back. Startled, his eyes snapped open and he found curious but compassionate brown eyes staring down at him. He didn't recognize the tall, red headed man sitting back on his heels next to him.
He felt blind panic well up, bile building in his throat, threatening to choke him. He not only didn't know the man staring at him but he also had no idea who he himself was. His own name was a blank.
He saw the man's lips moving but he couldn't understand a word he was saying. Maybe the man was speaking a different language. If he concentrated with all his energy he still couldn't figure out what he wanted; he only noticed a loud ringing in his ears.
The man grabbed him around the upper arms and tugged him upright. He couldn't suppress a gasp as pain shot through his right arm. Dark spots invaded his vision and he felt himself sag into the stranger. A strong arm wrapped around his waist. His thoughts scattered as he was drawn forward.
-0-
Dean impatiently cursed the burns on his arms and the persistent throb at the back of his head. He needed to get out of the hospital and start looking for Sam but he couldn't even dress himself right now. And Bobby, the traitor, refused to help him.
At least Ash was on board. He'd agreed to start searching the surrounding area via his trusty laptop for anyone resembling Sam's description.
Ash had been subdued as Dean had described the pyrotechnics at the gas station and Sam's disappearance. Maybe he'd underestimated Ash. He wasn't a shallow tech geek, interested only in playing with his toys. He wanted to help Sam.
And now Dean was at the mercy of Bobby. He couldn't go out and actively search for his brother unless Bobby helped him into his clothes and out of the hospital.
He tried to turn his puppy dog eyes on Bobby but he couldn't pull it off; Bobby remained steadfast in his refusal. "Dammit, Dean, you were unconscious for two days. Two days! And those are second degree burns we're talking about. The doctor said you're at risk for infection. Just slow down a minute, would you?"
Dean wasn't stupid. He knew second degree burns were only life threatening if they became infected. The blisters were painful but that's why there were good drugs. His head was a different story. He knew he wasn't operating at full speed but he couldn't slow down. "I can't. Sam is somewhere out there and I need to find him."
It was hard to put into words just how badly he needed to find his brother. He'd wanted a few moments to himself, just a small break from all of the drama surrounding his brother, and now that his wish had been granted he was lost. He simply needed to find Sam or he would go insane.
-0-
He blinked his eyes awake as the semi truck rolled to a stop. He didn't know where he was but he didn't feel safe. He threw open the heavy passenger door and tried to make an escape but he was held down, immobile. He struggled against his bonds in vain, panting with exertion.
The large, red-headed man loomed next to him as he appeared in the open door. He reached up and over and efficiently hit a latch so that he was free. He tilted forward at a crazy angle but the man was there to steady him. He pulled his legs out of the truck and grasping him around the waist, helped him slide onto the ground. "Easy, son. I've got you."
He startled as he heard the stranger's deep, rumbling voice. The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Can you hear me?"
He opened his mouth and tried to speak but no sound emerged. He raised his left hand and indicated a little. He could understand the red-haired man but his voice wasn't very loud and he had to strain to hear him.
He stood there swaying, light headed. The man easily dwarfed him but he no longer felt threatened. This was reinforced when the man spoke again. "You can call me Red. What's your name?"
He racked his brain but he was still drawing a blank. He felt lost and alone. And then Red was speaking to him again and he felt a little better. "Don't worry about it, I think I'll call you Nick until we can get things sorted out."
Nick. It didn't sound right but he'd grab on to anything right now to keep from drowning in his unease. "Come on Nick, I want to introduce you to someone. I think he can help you out."
And with that Nick found himself being pulled toward the back entrance of a restaurant. He was too tired and dizzy to fight it and found his feet shuffling after Red.
-0-
Dean was staring up at the white ceiling. His vision blurred as moisture flooded his eyes. The doctors told him to rest but he couldn't. He just knew Sam wasn't dead. He was out there. Alone. And he needed Dean.
His cell phone rang and Dean awkwardly retrieved it from the tray table. It was Ash. "Please, give me some good news."
There was a pause and a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Dean. Nada. I've checked the hospitals and clinics in a sixty mile radius and I'm coming up snake eyes. But I'm no quitter and I'm just getting started. I'll keep you posted."
Dean disconnected the call without saying anything further. He was crushed. It had already been two days since his brother went missing and he was slowly losing his mind.
He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and waited for the dizziness to pass. Doubt and pain hammered at him and he found himself folded over at the waist, his head hanging down. He didn't know what to do anymore. But it was up to him to keep his brother safe and so far he'd failed miserably.
A hand awkwardly patted the back of his shoulder. He automatically stiffened, ashamed that he hadn't heard someone enter his room. "Come on, Dean. Let me give you a hand."
Bobby had returned. He couldn't keep the belligerence out of his voice and it shook with frustration as he glared at the older man. "Are you going to help me find Sam?"
The older man took his baseball cap off and scratched at the top of his head. "Um, well, you know I'll do what I can. But how 'bout we get you settled first?"
Dean could see dark shadows under Bobby's baggy, red eyes. Bobby really believed his brother was gone and was mourning him.
Dean refused to give up hope. The alternative was too painful to contemplate.
-0-
Red had introduced him to a pleasant blond man named Dan, owner of Danny Boy's Diner, and manager of the local homeless shelter located down the road. He wasn't sure why Red thought Dan could help him but he didn't have any options.
He tried to listen as the two men bantered but his head ached and his vision was blurring. He forced his eyes opened and blinked as his confused mind tried to follow the conversation. Dan caught him staring and in response he smiled more widely which exposed white, pearly teeth and made his eyes crinkle in the corners. He resembled someone.
He closed his eyes and tried to picture another blond man. Short hair. Wide smile. Jovial. His mind was a blank, gaping maw where the memory should have been. The conversation swirled around him, breaking his concentration.
Red's deep voice boomed so loudly he jumped. His ears perked up as he heard his name. "I decided on Nick. Just look at him! He's a tall, good looking kid. Might be deaf. Definitely mute. You know, just like in The Stand."
Dan shook his head with affection, his blue eyes twinkling. "Red, you're incorrigible. Next thing you'll be telling me this kid is some kind of psychic sent here to save us. But as a favor to you, I'll take young Nick under my wing and see what I can do for him."
Nick. He still didn't think that was right. But he lacked the ability to deal with it and quietly acquiesced. His energy was completely tapped out and he was left swaying in place.
He heard Dan barking out orders as if from afar in a tone that brooked no argument. To look at the man he wouldn't have guessed he had it in him.
And then he was floating, suspended in midair. Someone was holding him. He recognized Red's voice next to his ear just before his mind snapped off. "You want him in the single room with the lock?"
TBC
A/N: Many thanks again to Gidgetgal9. She has a very creative mind and was invaluable in helping me figure out the direction of this story.