Chapter 9

Dean calmed himself down long enough to find a way out of the ropes. Sam's screams threatened his focus, but he managed to stay calm. He noticed a knife sitting on the table. He didn't know where the knife came from, but he was grateful it was there. All he had to do know was edge the chair over to where the knife was. Slowly he managed to hobble over to the table. He blindly fumbled for the knife. He stole a glance at John who was busy shouting obscenities at Sam. He felt his blood start to boil again. He started to become livid again. Calm down Dean, otherwise you will not be able to help Sammy. One thing at a time, let's get the knife and cut the ropes. Then you can kill John. Dean said to his self. After several unsuccessful attempts, he managed to grab the knife and cut the ropes.

"John!" Dean screamed and John turned, "I am gonna fucking kick your ass!"

John pulled himself out of Sam, causing Sam to collapse on the bed in a bloody mess, and laughed.

"I would like to see you try, Dean. You forget, I taught you how to fight."

"You fucking bastard!" Dean screamed and lunged at his father for a second time that night.

John grabbed Dean and threw him against the wall. Dean groaned but managed to stand just as John grabbed him by the neck. Dean smirked and kneed John in the balls.

"Bet you didn't see that coming."

While John stood dazed and clutching his balls, Dean came swinging. He punched his father in his face causing John to stagger. John managed to rectify himself and landed a punch on Dean's face. Dean tasted blood. Dean gave John a sneer.

"That's best you got? Looks like someone's a bit rusty," He said and landed a kick to John's abdomen.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," John breathed.

"Bring it on baldy," Dean smirked.

John lunged at Dean and managed to get him in a chokehold. Dean couldn't breathe and weakly tried to grab John's hands. Sam, pulled his self weakly off the bed, grabbed a book and smacked John on the back of his head. John stood dazed for a few seconds causing his grip on Dean to weaken. John spun around and grabbed Sam by the neck and threw him across the room. Sam hit a wall and fell and blacked out. This caused Dean to see red again. He lunged at his father again.

"You sonavabitch!" He screamed.

Dean punched John again and again until he was barely conscious. He grabbed his gun from the floor, where he dropped it earlier.

"Dean, wait!" John cried.

"You fucking bastard! I told you I will fucking kill you if you touch him again!"

"Dean…"John started.

Dean shot his father in his chest twice. Most people would feel bad after shooting a parent, but Dean didn't. He felt relieved. He rushed over to Sam.

"Sam?" Dean called lightly shaking his brother.

When he didn't respond, he put his hand on his chest and felt his weak heartbeat, but noticed that Sam wasn't breathing.

"Sammy? Sam! Hold on kiddo." Dean picked up his almost 6ft, 20 year old brother and cradled him like he was a baby and carried him to the impala. Carefully situating him in the backseat, he got behind the wheel and drove to the nearest hospital. Again.

*SPN*

Dean sat next to his brother's bed waiting for him to wake up. It had been 3 hours since he brought his brother to this hospital. The doctor just left after telling Dean that his brother had to have at least 30 stitches in his anus, and that he had broken ribs and a broken right arm. There was nothing left for him to do except wait for Sammy to wake up, so he sat holding his brother's hand. He was tired and hungry, but he didn't want to leave the room until his brother woke up. Several hours later as Dean had started to doze off; he felt a twitch in his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw Sam's hand start to twitch.

"Sammy?"

Sam moaned and opened his eyes. He blinked several times trying to focus. He was confused, where was he and where was Dean?

"Sammy?" Dean called again.

Sam turned and saw his big brother sitting next to him holding his hand. He smiled, he felt happy whenever his big brother was near.

"D'n," he said his voice hoarse. Why couldn't he talk?

"Hey, Sammy. How you feel?"

Sam scrunched up his face. Then he pointed to his throat, "H'r's."

Dean nodded, he understood. Sam was saying his throat hurt. "Ima get the nurse and see if we can get something for your throat. Okay?"

Sam gave his brother the thumbs up sign. Dean walked out the room and returned several minutes later with a nurse in tow. The nurse checked his vitals and poked around his belly. Sam moaned and tried not to cry.

"Can you not do that? He's in a lot of pain," Dean asked the nurse.

"Sorry, hun, but we need to make sure there are no other internal injuries besides his ribs."

The nurse finished poking around and gave Sam some pain medicine to take. Of course Sam refused. Dean sighed.

"Sammy, take the medicine, okay? Then I can give you some water for your throat."

Sam nodded and took the pills. Satisfied, the nurse left and Dean gave Sam some water. Sam gave a happy gurgle. The water soothed his throat.

"Feel better?" Dean asked.

Sam swallowed and nodded. He relaxed into the pillows then shot up in his bed.

"Whoa, easy, Sammy. What's wrong?"

"Pain," he grimaced.

"Where, buddy?"

"Here," Sam said and pointed to his anus.

Dean nodded; of course he would feel pain there. "Let's turn you on your belly, okay, kiddo?"

Sam nodded and Dean carefully helped his brother turn over onto his stomach.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam was about to ask a question when a doctor and nurse came into the room.

"What do you think you are doing? He shouldn't be on his stomach. Are you trying to bruise his ribs some more?" The nurse screeched.

"He was in pain, in his ass. I don't think he should be laying on his back." Dean replied.

The doctor nodded, "That's true, but his being on his stomach can cause more bruising on his ribs and other places as well. I think the best option for the kid is to lay on his side."

The doctor and nurse turned Sam on his side. Sam moaned the whole time.

"Take it easy kid, everything is going to be fine," the doctor said trying to calm Sam down.

Sam wasn't convinced. He wanted to go home with his big brother. He moaned again.

"Poor kid, he must be in a lot of pain. Maybe we should give the kid some more medicine," the nurse cooed.

Dean pinched his nose, "His name is Sam, not kid. And he's not in pain, he want to go home."

The doctor nodded, "I understand, but because of the pain he's in and the broken arm, ribs and anal tearing, he won't be able to leave for a couple weeks."

Sam looked frightened; he didn't want to be here.

"Dean?"

"It's okay, kiddo. They just want to make sure you're getting better. Trust me."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The doctor and nurse nodded and left.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Where's Dad?"

"Dead."

"What?"

"I killed him, Sammy. I told him that if he ever touched you again, I wouldn't hesitate to kill him. That bastard won't ever touch you again."

Sam just nodded. He reached for Dean's hand and held it tight as he fell asleep.

TBC...

So, John's dead...or is he?