A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait, I had another story that I needed to finish, but I'm thinking that this one should be all wrapped up in the next chapter. Anyhoo, thanks for keeping up with this story and I hope that you like this latest installement. :D
Chapter 10
Dean was expecting death...a bright white light, angels playing harps and pearly gates opening up or even cold, dark nothingness, but not this. He didn't expect to still be breathing but it didn't take him long to for him to come to his senses and realize that it hadn't been Alicia that fired the gun.
He flung his eyes open and saw the girl lying on the ground, writhing in pain, whimpering and moaning pathetically. As much as his body protested the sudden movement, he gathered what was left of his flagging strength and reached for the weapons she had dropped when she fell.
Vaguely, he registered the sounds of running footsteps heading his way, but it was all background noise to him, his vision had tunneled in on his one source of swelling anger and rage, fixing on the image of the woman trying to get up. From the stains of white powder covering her shirt, he knew that she had only been hit by rock salt and he wished at that moment that Bobby had filled his shotgun with real bullets. She may be in pain, but she could still be a threat and he wasn't about to let her get away.
He struggled to his feet, wavering as he pushed the encroaching greyness away, unwilling to give in to the darkness of unconsciousness. "Don't move." he trained the weapon on her. "or it'll be the last one you make."
"Please, please don't kill me....I only wanted to keep Sam safe, I swear."
"Safe from what? You kidnapped him and tied him up, how is that in anyway safe?" He asked belligerently.
"I was keeping him safe from you!" She spat out, taking Dean by surprise.
"Safe from me? You're buckets of crazy. I would never hurt Sam, ever."
"That's not true...I saw it, felt your anger...I heard it in your head...you think you might have to kill him." Something in her eyes told that she was telling what she believed to be true.
"What are you talking about, you felt it?" He yelled, the gun shaking in his hand, how could she possibly know that? True, he hadn't been able to get his father's last words to him out of his head, but he hadn't told a soul about it, not even Sam.
"When I touched you...I felt you...you're too dangerous to be around him." She hastily spat out. "He doesn't need you ...he needs to be with me."
"Shut. Up!" Dean shouted at her while his finger hovered over the trigger. Anger rolled through him, barreling across his synapses like a freight train and firing in all directions.
"Dean!" Bobby called out, running up to him. "Dean stop!"
Bobby tried to lay a restaining hand over Dean's outstretched arm. "It's over now, son."
"No it ain't, Bobby." Dean shook him off, maintaining his stance over her, the weapon aimed true to her heart.
Dean could feel his restraint slipping from his grasp. One little pull of the trigger and he wouldn't have to worry about this girl coming after Sam again, he wouldn't have to hear her throwing back the words of his father into his face. The rage was blinding and all-emcompassing. She had hurt him deep by taking Sam from him. But she was a human after all, no black eyes, no spewing bodily fluids like a witch, but she was different, psychic maybe, like Max had been...like Sammy?
He felt his anger slowly begin to drain from at that thought. Killing her would only reinforce Sam's belief that he would one day end up like Max or it just might prove to his little brother that he had gone completely off the deep end and become something for Sam to fear. Dean wasn't about to let that happen, he didn't think he could bear to see any mistrust or fear in his little brother's eyes because he had lost control of his anger.
Just then, a sound caught his ears, a rushing of leaves and a voice that had him turning away from the girl.
"Dean!" Sam suddenly appeared from the trees, breathing hard and looking far paler than he had ever seen him before. Relief washed over at him finally seeing his little brother as did a wave of dizziness. He felt the hand holding the gun drop to his side just as his knees buckled, unable to support his weight any longer before ground rushed up to greet his face.
OOOOO
Sam was still focusing on placing one foot in front of the other when he heard the first shot. Before his brain could catch up, his legs had decided to turn over into a full on sprint, propelling him forward with a burst of adrenaline and speed. Another shot rang out and he was in full-blown panic mode.
Surging forward with renewed strength and stamina, he tore up the distance, his once uncooperative and bumbling feet now deftly maneuvering over fallen limbs and slippery patches of leaves. His chest heaved with the exertion until he finally reached the source of the gun fire.
Crashing into a clearing, he saw Dean standing unsteadily, gun in one hand pointing it at a young girl laying on the ground with Bobby next to him, trying to hold him back. His fuzzy brain tried to comprehend the situation until he got a good look at her face, then it started to come back to him in flashes of memory. None of it was clear, but he knew now what he had been doing in a forest during a severe thunderstorm. He knew he had been trying to get away from her, the details were still too far out of reach for him, but they didn't matter, all that mattered was his brother standing only feet away looking as if he was about to drop.
"Dean!" He shouted to his brother. Dean turned at the sound of his voice and Sam saw the blood next as the weapon in his hand dropped to the ground. The next thing he knew, the color drained out of Dean's face and he wobbled before he began falling to the ground boneless.
He was running again as Bobby reacted and caught his big brother's decent before he faceplanted. Sam was by Dean's side in a flash, his eyes were closed, but to Sam's relief, he was breathing normally though bleeding fiercely from his arm, far more than he would have expected from a single gun shot wound.
Gently, Bobby lowered Dean to the ground. Afterward, Sam took over, tapping his face in hopes of rousing him. "Hey...hey, man. I got you...c'mon, Dean, wake up."
A grunt issued from the older man, but still his eyes remained closed. Sam shifted his focus instead on the wound seeping blood through Dean's jacket.
He looked across to Bobby with questions in his eyes, but asked the only practical one. "Bobby, got a knife?"
The older hunter nodded and handed a large hunting knife over. Sam made short work of slitting Dean's jacket sleeve up until he reached the wound. It wasn't a large entry wound, but it was bleeding profusely, spurting a little stronger with each beat of his big brother's heart. Carefully, Sam lifted the arm and checked the underside. He swore seeing the larger exit wound. It was good that the bullet had gone all the way through, yet at the same time, he was alarmed by how quickly the blood was gushing out.
"Damn, it must have hit an artery." Bobby muttered, echoing Sam's own thoughts. They had to stop this bleeding fast. Sam was about to whip off his own jacket to create some makeshift bandages, but Bobby stopped him. "You're soaked to the bone, Sam. I got it, I'll take care of Dean. You keep an eye on the girl."
Sam had almost forgotten about the girl still lying on the ground. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with anger. He had flashes of being tied up, of feeling fear and anger towards this girl. He still couldn't recall why, couldn't even remember her name, but he knew she was one that had caused all of this, who had shot his brother and his blood boiled with rage.
With every intention of coming back to his brother, he stood back up, ignoring the waves of dizziness that assaulted him and turned his attention to the girl. She looked up at him, her lips trembling.
"Sam, please... I had to stop him, it was the only way we could be together. I did it for us." Sam approached her, his fists balling up.
"There is no 'us'." The words spat out of Sam's mouth and with one swing, he laid her out cold. Normally, he had many reservations about hitting a woman, but there were times when exceptions could be made and this was one of those times. It wasn't just his anger fueling the punch though, he had to help Dean and he couldn't do that with that girl stilll awake and capable of bolting or attacking Dean again. He didn't feel good about doing it, but neither did feel guilty.
"Sam..." Sam turned to hear his brother's weak voice filled with pain, but now conscious and he rushed over to him, coming down to the wet ground on his knees beside Dean's side.
"God...you look like crap, Sammy." Dean ground out between his clenched teeth, his eyes glassy, but fixed on Sam. Bobby was still tying up his arm, blood soaking through the bandages he had made out of his own flannel shirt. "Gotta get ya outa here."
"I think it's youcthat needs to get out of here, Dean." Sam grinned seeing his brother grunt as he tried to sit up.
"Will you just hold still, you moron." Bobby groused as he finished knotting the strip of flannel.
"God, Bobby. I'm fine, just help me up." Stubborn as always and unwilling to accept his own limitations, Sam knew that Dean wasn't about to let anyone carry him out of the woods.
"I got him, Bobby." Sam insisted, taking hold of Dean's good arm and hauling him up, both of them groaning and grunting from the exertion.
"Ya sure?" Bobby eyed him with concern as though he was taking in his appearance for the first time. "Dean's right...you look like death warmed over." Sam had to admit that he probably did look a sight. He could still feel the blood dripping down his face from his run-in with the fallen tree and he was shivering uncontrollable now as the adrenaline that had fueled him before seeped out and left him feeling cold and exhausted. But Dean was in worse shape than him and they had the girl to out of the forest as well, something Bobby wouldn't be able to do on his own.
"I'm fine. I got Dean if you get the girl."
"Fine." Bobby grumbled, swearing under his breath as bent over then hauled the unconscious girl off the ground, pulling her into a fireman's carry over his shoulder.
"I don't need to be carried." Dean complained as Sam grabbed hold of Dean's waist, but just as he said that, his knees buckled and Sam had to hold tight to keep his big brother from dropping to the ground again.
"Yeah, right. Just hold onto me, will ya?" Sam came back. Dean grumbled, but put his good arm around Sam's shoulder and allowed his little brother to carry most of his weight.
OOOOO
Some rescue this was turning out to be, thought Dean miserably as the plodded slowly though the woods. He was the one that was supposed to be doing the rescuing, but Sam had managed to get himself out his bonds and escape and now he was the one getting his ass hauled out of the woods by the very brother he was supposed to be saving.
He hated that he needed Sam to provide support for his rubbery legs, but at the same time, he was just glad to have him back by his side.
Sam kept shooting him worried looks like he was going to keel over at any time and while he felt like doing just that, he wasn't going to let himself pass out now. His little brother himself wasn't looking too hot and he wasn't about to let him carry him out of the forest the same way Bobby was carrying that girl out.
Dean glanced again over at his brother. He was worried, the bruise and cut on his head looked pretty bad and given the way that Sam walked unsteadily and tripping over his feet, he might have another concussion. To add to his ratcheting worry, Sam was trembling and breathing hard in a deep, wheezy rasp. They had had to stop a few times already so he cough a lung up and with the heat Dean could feel emanating from him despite the wet clothing, he was even more determined to get the hell out of dodge and back to the motel room where he could properly take care of his sibling like he should after he got him out of the hospital.
"You okay?" Sam asked for about the thousanth time.
"Peachy." Dean came back tersely. In all honesty, it was getting harder and harder to a hold to consciousness. He hurt with every step, his arm throbbed white hot and the nauseous woozy feeling was growing. He couldn't really understand how one little gunshot wound to the arm was fucking him up so, he'd been shot before and while they always hurt like a bitch, he couldn't fathom why he was so weak this time around.
"Almost there." Sam informed him, coughing again before stumbling over yet another branch and almost sending both of them down.
"Jesus, Sam...need a break?"
Sam just shook his head and gripped Dean tighter. God, but the kid was stubborn. Bobby was already to his truck by the time Sam and Dean made it through the woods and was unloading his burden into the passenger seat, tying her hands with a cord as she was starting to come to and cursing Bobby, but the older hunter, slammed the door shut against her tirade.
By this time, Dean's vision was greying and he couldn't help Sam support his weight any longer. He was vaguely aware of Bobby and Sam discussing what to do with the girl and what to do next.
"I'll figure out what to do with her, you get your brother to the hospital and I'll meet you there after I take of her."
Hospital? Dean lifted his head up from Sam's shoulder at that. "I don' need th' ospital." He said, finding it odd how slurred his speech was and how disconnected he felt from it.
"Dean, you're bleeding bad, man. Bobby and I can't patch that up, you hit an artery. You're going." Sam was firm as he guided him over to the El Camino and helped him inside.
"Geez, Dean. Was it too much to ask for to find a car that at least had a door?" Sam complained, seeing the pathetic excuse for a car before him.
"Better n' walkin." Dean mumbled back, feeling more than seeing himself being lowered inside and strapped in tight as if he might fall out. A second later Sam was in the driver's seat and pulling him closer towards him. He didn't even realize that he had begun to close his eyes and lean forward.
"Hey man, stay with me here. Just lean into me, I don't want you passing out and eating asphalt when you fall out."
Dean wasn't sure if he answered his brother with a witty comeback or not, but the last thing he was aware of was his head resting on Sam's shoulder and the rumble of the engine as they took off into the night.
OOOOO
Dean had passed out again, sending Sam's heart into a panic as he drove. So far, he himself had managed to stay with it, to ignore the burning sensation in his chest, the shaking of his hands and the ferocious pounding in his head as he gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline.
Thankfully, Bobby had told him about a shortcut to the local hospital before he took off and giving the way Dean was bleeding all over the interior of the car, every second he could shave off was necessary.
His foot floored the accelerator and he held onto his brother's arm, still worried about him actually falling out the non-existent door as he took a sharp turn one-handed, flying into the hospital parking lot.
He pulled the car up to the emergency entrance and was surprised and grateful to see a man in scrubs just outside the doors. "Please, you gotta help me." Sam yelled as he jumped out of the car and ran to the other side to get to his brother. The man was beside him in a moment's time and helped Sam maneuver Dean out. Together they pulled him out and carried him to the doors. The bright, white light inside almost blinded Sam as the entered, sending a spike a pain into his head, but it was quickly pushed aside as the man helping him with his brother called out for help.
In a flurry of activity that made Sam dizzy, nurses, a doctor and a gurney appeared, loading Dean up and rushing him past him to a set of double doors, He made to follow, but was held back by a nurse with a clipboard and ordered to fill out some forms for treatment.
All he wanted was to make sure Dean was going to be alright, but the woman standing in front of him, blocking his way could have given Nurse Ratchet a run for her money in the intimidation department and was insistent that he sit and fill out the paperwork. Knowing that arguing with her wouldn't get him any closer to Dean led him to comply and take the clipboard the nurse held out to him.
Wearily, he made his way over to a seat then sat and stared at the papers in his hands, the words blurring in front of his eyes, barely making any sense through his muzzy mind.
Suddenly he was just so tired, his head and heart pounded part from pain and part from worry over Dean. Concentrating on forming letters to fill out the paperwork was nearly impossible, even the pen felt too heavy in his fingers and it dropped from his hand several times while he tried to write without letting the trembling in them take over.
"You okay, Sir?" A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up into the eyes of clipboard nurse. This time instead of looking intimidating, her eyes shown bright with concern.
"M'fine." He mumbled, surprising even himself at how difficult the words seemed to come from his mouth.
"You look like you're about to pass out and believe me, I've been working her for twenty years and I know the look. I could have a doctor take a look at that cut on your head."
"Said, I'm fine." He repeated with a little more venom and irritation than he knew he should have. "'Sorry." He apologized to the nurse who had taken on a hurt expression. "I just want to see my brother."
"I'll go see what I can find out. Sit here, you can finish the forms later."
She was gone before he could thank her, disappearing behind the double set of swinging doors that Dean had gone through just minutes ago. He shut his eyes for the briefest of moments as the room had begun to sway like he one too many shots of tequila and he had to force his stomach to keep from revolting.
He must have kept his eyes shut a lot longer than he thought because the next thing he knew a hand was shaking his shoulder and he looked up again to see the nurse had returned.
"How is he?" He asked her.
"Well, he should live. Looks like the bullet that hit him struck the brachial artery which the doctors have clamped for now and stopped the bleeding. He's being prepped for surgery right now and it looks like they're gonna have to put a pin or two to fix his humerus, which was also fractured. All in all though, he should be fine, but he'll be in a pretty hefty cast for a few weeks."
Sam breathed a sigh of relief, triggering a massive coughing attack, this one worse than any he had had before and sending spikes of pain all the way from deep inside his chest up to the top of his head. He gasped and struggled to find his breath again, but he was losing out as the cough just wouldn't quit. Spots danced before his eyes lie fireflies in a dark night. Distantly he heard raised voices until the last thing he felt was a pair of hands catching him by the shoulders before he hit the hard, tile floor.
TBC....