Okay, here is another one!
I feel I have to warn you as it gets a bit (read; very) dark towards the end of this chapter... (It doesn't get more graphic, but it gets DARKer)
Once the wound on his upper arm was properly dressed, Dean started to get up. Only to be held down by Ron.
"You really shouldn't be moving around, really… You should lay as still as you possibly can!" his voice was stern and it held some kind of authority, but Dean didn't care.
"I've got to find my little brother!" he winced as a jolt of pain hit him, "He's out there on his own! I've got to find him!"
"Look, your dad trained him too, right?"
"Yeah! 'Course he did!" Dean answered a bit irritable.
"If he is just half as skilled as you… I bet he's just fine!" Ron said, "And if you're lucky, he's not as daring as you are…"
"He is good! I know that! But I've still got to find him!" Dean said and pushed past the hand that held him down.
His stomach churned as the pain hit him. He had to stop and lean on the closest chair to catch his breath, stop the world from spinning, you name it… He needed it!
He swallowed some bile that threatened to escape his lips. He gasped for air, and clutched the back of the chair as hard as humanly possible.
"Okay… I'm good! I'm good…" Dean said as he regained control over his body again.
Jake looked at him with a worried and pained expression. He almost felt Dean's pain. But he knew that there was nothing he could do, except for supporting him. Literally.
Dean kept the hold of the chair for another minute or so. He knew time was a luxury he might not have, but he also knew that he would be no good to anybody if he passed out.
He released his grip of the chair and set his mind on limping over to the door. He couldn't put any weight at all on his right leg, well he could rest it on the floor without collapsing… That was better than to try and keep it elevated. A couple of HEAVY limping steps later, someone ducked under his right arm to support him.
Dean hadn't even realized that he had been holding his arms out from his body to keep his balance and was sure surprised when he realized that someone was helping him.
"I've got you buddy!" Jake said when Dean met his eyes. He had only taken about five steps away from the chair, but he was already panting, more out of pain than exhaustion… He was getting tired, hell, who wouldn't…? But the pain was worse than the fatigue…
"Thanks…" he smiled, a little more out of breath than he would like…
"Where do you need to go?" Jake asked as he took a better grip around Dean's torso.
"Find. Sammy." Full sentences was just beyond his reach at the moment.
"Where to first?" Jake asked paused, "to the library or another classroom first?"
Jake stopped, so that Dean would have to let himself rest for a few seconds.
"I think I'll go to the library first, you should stay here!" Dean said when he realized that Jake wouldn't move, or release his hand before he answered.
"No, I'll come with you!" Jake said with a stern voice.
"No, I can't take responsibility for you! Not now, not today!" Dean freaked a bit, he wouldn't let his new friend put himself in harm's way because of him.
"Well, TOO DAMN BAD! Huh…? 'Cause I sure as hell can't let you go out there by yourself! I can defend myself just as good as you can right now! Maybe even better! You can't walk! And you sure as HELL can't run!" Jake raised his voice with every sentence he spoke.
"You can get yourself killed! You know that!?" Dean almost yelled back.
"And I might get myself killed right here! You might get yourself killed by blood loss and stubbornness, you might get yourself shot, again, and killed!" Jake stared at Dean with cold hard eyes, before he lowered his voice again. "If I let you go out there, and you get yourself killed. That is something I'm sure I won't survive, maybe I would manage a week, a year, maybe even five… But it would eventually kill me. And I would have big problems for whatever time I could hold on… If I go out there with you, and we both get killed. It would suck… But I wouldn't have to live with the same guilt that I see in my father's eyes every damned day!"
They just stared at each other for a little while.
"We've both got a better chance if we both go…" Jake added with an ice-cold voice after a few silent seconds.
Dean swallowed hard, he knew the sight of that guilt.
He knew the guilt too…
He knew that guilt all too well…
Only 18 years of age, but he was sure some part of his soul had been around since the first break of dawn… He knew there were people, dead people, he could have saved if he had only…That thought that always came to him; 'If I had only…'
Those four words could break a man down from the inside, and leave him a walking corpse…
"Looks like I don't have a choice then…" Dean said and looked down at his boots. His right boot was soaked in crimson liquid. He recognized it as what it was… Blood…
His own blood…
"But if I get shot, and can't keep going, you run as hell! You hear me?"
"I won't promise that."
"Well… It was worth a try…" Dean ran his left hand, covered with dried blood, through his hair.
"Ready to get moving?" Jake asked. His heart was beating out of his chest, even though he had been standing still for the last two minutes. He figured it was the situation…
Dean just nodded and braced himself for the pain to follow.
…
They made it through the hallway in a pace that Dean wouldn't have thought possible for a few minutes ago.
Don't get me wrong, he thought he was about to puke his guts out, or pass out for every damn step they took. But at least it was quick!
As they moved through the corridor, they checked every door they could find. Just in case Sammy was hiding in the little girl's room, or something…
…
As they rounded another corner, they almost stumbled over something that set them both out of commission.
It had probably happened to quickly for her to feel anything. That was the only consolation… But the sight and the knowledge that somebody could do something that cruel to a girl whom still wore her pigtails… That was just too damn rough.
Dean could handle more than most people his age… More than most people ANY age… But the sight of this young girl, whom someone had shot with more bullets than he had heard all day set him on the sideline…
After a few long seconds Dean untangled himself from Jake, and reached down to close her eyes. He was still not sure why he always had to do that, but it was just one of those things he had to do…
Like when he was younger, and always checked for monsters under Sammy's bed TWICE, before he tucked him in…
…
"This is bad…" Jake spoke with the smallest, most fragile voice you could imagine coming from an 18 year old boy/man. (Whom, just like Dean, already had the ability to sport a five o'clock shadow like a grown man… Not that peach fuzz thing most guy's got going by that age… )
"Yeah… It is…" Dean answered in an equal somber tone. This was BAD, with a capital F…
The realization that someone had a gun with a silencer, sent chills down his spine… That meant that there could be many more casualties than he had prepared himself for…
Hopefully it was just one of them that had a silencer…
They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity… It wasn't before the sound of another piercing shot rang through the air that they figured that they had to get going.
Dean prayed that his Sammy was all right, as they hurried TOWARDS the sound of the shot.
'Only madmen does this…' he thought as they scurried along.
Okay... We made it through another chapter together!
I hope you're still with me... And that I didn't cause any damage...
I hope you 'enjoyed' this chapter too, even though... Well you know...
...Sorry...
