Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way! This story was requested by Emerald-Water.
Summary: Sequel to Sacrificial Son. It's been ten years since Sarina, but a new hunt involving the bodies of teenage boys lined up on a river's edge is bringing back horrible memories for Dean; just what he needs after losing his father.
Tag to Bloodlust. WILL HAVE SPOILERS FOR THIS EPISODE!
Dean is 27 and Sam is 23.
Dean blinked in confusion as the Impala slid to a halt on the side of the road. "What are you…?"
"Go ahead, Dean. Get out if that's what you really want. How long are you gonna keep runnin' away from your feelings, huh? How long do you think you can keep this up before it catches up to you and bites you in the ass? I can't make you open up to me, Dean, and I can't stop you from takin' off cause I can't baby-sit you twenty-four seven. So if you want to go at it alone and self-destruct, far be it for me to get in your way."
Dean gaped at his brother, fumbling for words. He was pissed at Sam for calling his bluff, he was hurt, and above all, he was scared. He didn't want to deal with this alone. He didn't want to go back to traveling the states without Sammy. Just the thought made his stomach clench, and boy was that unfortunate after all those shots of whiskey…
He lunged for the door with his left arm, taking a few tries before he was able to kick it open.
For one heart-stopping moment, Sam thought Dean was actually going to follow through with his threat of taking off. That is, until Dean took two steps and sank to his knees in the dirt, retching painfully.
Sam threw open his own door and raced around the car, dropping to the ground by his brother's side. "Dean? Hey, take it easy, man. You've gotta calm down."
Dean clenched his left fist in Sam's over-shirt, using his brother as an anchor and making sure Sam wouldn't be able to leave him there by the side of the road. With the way Dean had been acting lately, he felt he certainly would have deserved to be abandoned.
"S-Sam…"
"I'm right here, Dean. It's okay."
Dean retched again and was forced to let go of Sam in order to wrap his arm around his busted ribs as the muscles in his abdomen contracted painfully, making the bones shift beneath his skin. He lurched forward again and Sam's hand shot out to steady him, gripping on to his good shoulder.
Sam's eyes zeroed in on his brother's attempt at controlling his pain. "Move your arm, man."
"'s fine."
"Move your arm and let me see, Dean. Now's not the time to be stubborn."
Feeling like a little kid being scolded, Dean moved his arm away from his body, using it to lean back on instead in hopes that the new angle would help to uncoil his clenching abdominal muscles and make it easier to breathe. Sam reached forward and carefully lifted the hem of his brother's under shirt. Dean shivered as the cool night air hit his bare skin.
Even though it was dark on the side of the road, the deep purple bruises that were already showing up stood out significantly against Dean's otherwise pale skin. Frowning, Sam inched closer to get a better look. With his other hand, he began gently prodding the black and blue area spanning the length of Dean's rib cage.
Dean hissed as his brother's fingers neared one of the breaks and he swallowed hard to control his stomach before spitting into the nearby grass to clean out his mouth.
Sam pressed a little harder until he felt the bones give beneath the force, confirming that at least two were broken before Dean jerked away.
"Ah! Damn it, Sam… Watch it!" Dean's hand returned to his side protectively, knocking his brother's prodding fingers from his ribs.
"Sorry. Had to know the extent of the damage. We've gotta get those wrapped soon, Dean."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
"How's the breathing?"
"… Manageable."
"Uh huh." Sam glanced around the area, making sure they were alone before turning pleading eyes back onto his big brother. "No one else is out here, man. Will you let me fix your shoulder now?"
"I'll take care of it later, Sammy. Stop crowdin' me."
Stubborn pain in the ass… "Fine, but at least let me help you back onto your feet."
Dean tried to think of how he could accomplish this task on his own before coming to the aggravating conclusion that he couldn't. He begrudgingly nodded his acquiescence.
Sam quickly slid in behind his brother, wrapped his left arm around Dean's upper chest for support, then without warning, grabbed Dean's busted arm and pulled hard. The joint snapped back into place, Dean shouted in pain and surprise, and then fell into his brother's tight embrace.
"I've got you, man. It's okay. Just breathe…" Sam gently eased Dean backwards until his big brother was leaning against his chest. A small whimper escaped Dean as he clutched at Sam's supporting arm, desperate for the shooting pain to let up soon.
At the sound of Dean's distress, Sam started to gently massage his big brother's newly repaired shoulder, knowing exactly how painful it was to have the stretched muscles trying to contract back to their original alignments. He'd put some muscle relaxant cream on it when they got back to the motel. Until then, Dean would have to settle for the makeshift ice pack.
The boys remained entwined until Sam felt the muscles in Dean's back start to unfurl against his chest and his brother let his head roll onto Sam's shoulder as the initial pain finally began to ease.
"God… damn," Dean forced through gritted teeth.
"How're you doin', Dean?"
"Just… peachy," he grunted in between pants as he tried to get his breathing back under control again. Sam winced in sympathy.
"Sorry about that, man. But you know as well as I do, the longer you leave it dislocated, the longer it'll take to heal and the more damage you can do to it."
"Yeah, yeah…"
"Try not to move it too much for the next few days, okay?"
"I know the drill, Sammy. 's there any ice left?"
"Let me check. Can you sit up on your own or do you want to lay down for a minute and rest?"
"Nah, 'm good."
"Kay." Reluctantly, Sam helped ease his brother off of him until Dean was kneeling upright again. When the cool air hit Sam's chest, it was a huge contrast to how warm Dean's body had been against him and he shivered.
Then he realized his shirt wasn't just cold now, but tacky and damp. Glancing down, he saw multiple red splotches contrasting against the light gray cotton tee he was wearing. "Dean…?"
"Huh?" Dean blinked heavily at him over his shoulder, trying to keep his brother in focus. Regardless of what he told Sam, the broken ribs were making it difficult to breathe, and the lack of sufficient oxygen was making his head spin.
"You're bleeding, dude! Why didn't you say anything?"
"'m wha'?"
"Blee-ding. What happened? I thought you said they didn't get you with the blade?" Without waiting for a response, Sam reached towards his brother once again, pulled the back of his shirt up, and grimaced.
There were multiple lacerations crisscrossing Dean's skin, some of which still had glass and wood debris in them from the shattered drinks and broken table, not to mention the boot-shaped bruise near his spine, compliments of Mohawk. "Jesus, Dean…"
"'s okay. Doesn' even hurt, Sammy."
"Probably cause you're goin' into shock. It looks like you've lost a good amount of blood, man. Are you feelin' light-headed?"
"Not sure. Jus'… tired." Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Dean was starting to drift in his pain-filled haze.
"Hey hey hey… Look at me, Dean." Sam scooted around until he was in front of his brother. Bleary green eyes blinked owlishly back at him in confusion. Sam reached out and put a hand to his brother's forehead. "Crap. You're burnin' up."
"Nuh uh. Your hands're cold."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, tough guy. We've gotta get you back to the room and cleaned up. Wait here a sec. I'll get a wrap for your ribs before you do anymore damage to them. Don't move."
Sam stood and quickly made his way to the trunk of the Impala. As he fumbled around in the dark looking for their medical kit, a bright light illuminated the surrounding area and the whir of an approaching engine alerted him to the light's source. He turned, hoping the vehicle would just pass by and leave them to their business, but since when were the Winchesters ever that lucky?
The truck pulled off the road a few yards behind the Impala and the high beams were turned on. Sam lifted his arm and squinted against the bright lights. The driver's door opened and a relatively short man hopped out, but aside from his height, Sam couldn't get any other details as the new arrival remained shielded by the darkness.
"You boys alright?" a friendly enough voice called out.
"Yeah, we're fine, thanks," Sam called back. He shot a glance over to Dean who was trying to get back on his feet so he didn't garner too much attention from the stranger. "My brother just got a bit carsick is all." Sam quickly made his way to Dean's side and helped him off the ground. For once, Dean didn't complain about the assist.
"How unfortunate for the poor lad. I've got Dramamine in my traveling kit if you'd like some. It works wonders on car sickness." The man was already heading for the truck bed.
"Seriously, I think he's gonna be just fine. Thank you for the offer though," Sam tried again.
"Oh, nonsense. He may be fine now, but a few more miles down the road and he just might get sick again!" came the response as the man rifled through his belongings.
Sam shot Dean a look, saying maybe we should just humor the guy and he'll go away. Dean frowned. "Sam, no. Just get in the car and let's hit the road."
"Here they are! I found them!"
Sam forced a smile onto his face as the man leaned around the back of the truck and waved the small container in the air. "Great! We uh… We appreciate it." He helped Dean over to the side of the Impala so his brother had something else to lean against. "I'm gonna go get it from him so he doesn't get closer and see how banged up you are. If he did, he'd probably call the police on us or somethin'."
Dean grabbed Sam's forearm. "Don't! Come on. Let's just leave, Sammy." Somethin's not right about this guy. I can feel it.
"It'll only take a sec, man. Just… wait here, okay?"
Sam broke free of his brother's grasp and strode over to the other man's truck. He had his arm up again in front of his eyes so the high beams weren't so brutal. Unfortunately, his impaired vision cost him dearly.
As he strode past the passenger side of the vehicle on his way to the bed of the truck, the door swung open and a heavy metal object collided with the back of Sam's head, instantly dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Sam's vision swam mercilessly, but he clung onto consciousness with all he had.
Dean heard the metallic thud followed closely by Sam's grunt of pain and his protective instincts took over, allowing him to push his pain to the back of his mind so he could concentrate better on the situation at hand.
Releasing his death grip on the Impala, he raised his good arm to shield his eyes, trying to spot his brother in the darkness just beyond the intense lights. "Sam?" he called out, hoping like hell he'd get a response. None came. "Son of a bitch…" he muttered to himself.
Anger firmly back in place, he gathered all the strength he could muster and started making his way towards the truck. Once he passed through the beams of light, the full scene came into focus and Dean saw red. He also saw Cliff standing over Sammy, tire iron in hand.
TBC
Hey loyal readers! Life has hit the fast lane recently, so I might not be able to update as often as I have been, but I will try to keep up! Thanks for being patient, and please keep those reviews coming! They're much appreciated.
