Notes
This chapter was sort of difficult for me to write. If it makes sense, this is something that cannot be read as easily as I see it in my mind. I write my stories as an episode would play out, and this particular chapter would visually make more sense...if that...makes...sense...-clears throat- aaaanywho.
I hope you all enjoy and let me know whatcha think;)
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"Stood on the edge, tied to a noose. But you came along and you cut me loose."
-Colplay "Amsterdam"
oo-oOo-oo
Chapter 12
He could feel the presence again. Out of nowhere it permeated the darkness and washed over in a blessed feeling of familiarity and comfort. "Sam." The relief was so great that he found he lacked the strength to even whisper the name. He had been on edge and not sure how much longer he could take the torture that that place could dish out. He'd felt like he was actually sinking into the denseness of the air, like he was slowly drowning in the oblivion that was his surroundings. But then the air felt lighter again and he sensed something beyond the seeming-endlessness of his prison. The punishing lightning had not reached out to attack the hope that blossomed inside of him this time, in-fact the lightning had all but stopped and the thunder was at the most a dull whisper of sound. All he really cared about at the moment though was that he could feel Sam.
The presence had faded just as before, but returned a few times, each comeback stronger than the previous. On the final time, the glare of lightning returned full force and surrounded him with blinding light, pulsing in one, constant flash. The thunder roared so loudly it hurt his ears. He felt determination, fear, love, and unbelievable power all in a sudden, overwhelming rush that stole the air from his lungs...but the feelings were not his own. He felt them as if they were in the very air he breathed. Without being able to explain why or how, he knew the emotions belonged to Sam.
He felt the power increase and his surroundings crackled with energy so great it frightened him. It built, strengthened, buzzed audibly through the air. He felt his brother's presence so strongly as if he were right there with him. His stomach twisted and tears streamed from his eyes when he felt pain, not in a physical way, he could just feel it. Could feel Sam in pain.
"Sammy?" He choked out.
The build of energy stopped suddenly, but he could still feel it like a crushing weight in the air around him. He took the moment to catch his breath, somehow knowing that this was just the calm before the storm...he was right. A second later, a loud thudding sound reverberated, sending a jolt of energy across the air. The atmosphere crackled with visible, white static that pulsed through the air, stretching out across the oblivion of his surroundings. It continued and multiplied, building, growing stronger each second. But then the static started to flicker. It blinked in and out like a light bulb using up its final volts of engery. A sudden wave of despair rippled through the air and made him sag against his bonds. Sam was losing. He didn't know what battle his brother was fighting, but he knew somehow that Sam was losing it. As quickly as it had come though, the despair was gone and determination slammed into him like a wall. The static glowed and fizzled, pulsing energy, stronger than before and only growing stronger.
It was then he heard the scream. A painfully familiar scream that echoed about him, wrapping cold fear around his heart. Inexplicably, he knew that somewhere Sam was in excruciating pain. He wanted to shout, to tell Sam to stop whatever he was doing that was hurting him so much. He ground his teeth and strained for freedom again. He didn't expect it to work, but he didn't care. Sam needed him and he'd be damned if he did nothing to try to help. A crippling pain shot through his head suddenly. He gasped out a choked cry of pain and surprise, his entire body tensing, eyes squeezing shut against the phantom agony. A reverberating wave of energy jarred him and suddenly he felt the sensation of falling...upwards. The pressure building inside his head skull reached a blinding height of pain. He couldn't hold it back any longer. A scream ripped from his throat, providing a chilling harmony to his brother's. He felt the energy press against him with an almost unbearable weight and in a flash of blinding light the pain vanished.
Dean arched up and gasped in a deep, cool breath of air. He felt blessed softness beneath him and he allowed himself to fall heavily back against it. He forced his eyes to open, but everything was too bright and he immediately closed them again. He felt pain in his chest, shoulder, back, leg, but it wasn't the same type of pain like he'd before. It wasn't consuming, crippling. It was almost...bearable. "What the hell? Where am I? Where was I?" Panic swept over him, making his lungs feel tight despite the cool air that flowed to them. "Oh God, where's Sam?" Something was wrong. Dean had felt Sam in pain, in need of help. He was in trouble and Dean had to do something about it. He had to go find him. Right now. Protect him, save him. Dean's mind raced with the thoughts and he frantically clawed at what he realized was an oxygen mask then immediately moved to pull at the tubes he felt in his arm. Hands appeared out of nowhere and stopped him. Dean flinched violently away from the touch, surprised by it and angered that it was preventing him from getting to Sam.
"Dean?! Jesus, Dean. Calm down, you can't-damnit! Stop! You have to stay still!"
Dean knew the voice, trusted it, but he ignored it. He didn't care if he wasn't supposed to get out of bed. He needed to get to Sam.
"Dean, it's okay. It's okay just relax."
"Wrs Sm?" He couldn't believe how much effort it took to get the barely-passable words out or how weak his voice sounded.
"Dean calm down. Just-aw damnit!" Resignation sounded in the rough voice.
Dean weakly pushed away the hands, annoyed that he wasn't strong enough to escape them completely.
"What's going- my God!" A woman's voice all but squeaked the cry of surprise.
He felt another set of hand, pushing him down, holding him back. "No. No! Sam's hurt! Let me go!" Dean wanted to scream, but he couldn't find the energy to speak.
"I don't know what happened, he just-"
"Wait outside, sir." The woman's voice pitched lower in authority as it cut off the familiar one. Two of the hands moved away and Dean tried to open his eyes. Everything bloomed in a blinding light that felt like pins in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut again and continued to struggle for freedom. Why didn't these damn people understand he had to find Sam. That his little brother was hurt and needed his help.
"Hold him, damnit!" A new, authoritative voice ordered.
"He's going to crash." Another woman's voice said.
Dean realized the fast beeping noise that had been sounding too-loudly in his ears must be his heart flipping out.
"Push ten milligrams of Midazolan."
He felt a rush of cool liquid in his arm a second later. It spread soothingly through his veins, leaving warmth and forced-calm in its wake.
"In."
"Simon, hey. Just relax, breathe."
"Simon? Who the...who...?" Dean felt himself relax, suddenly exhausted. He couldn't fight anymore and he sagged back against the softness supporting him.
"That's it, son." The voice cooed, having lost it's commanding edge.
Dean blinked his eyes open sleepily, allowing bits of the world in as the drugs carried him away. He couldn't make out shapes, everything seemed to have trails blurring away from it, but he was losing the ability to care with each passing second. Ironically, as bright as everything had been, that's how dark it was now and Dean let himself be taken away by it.
"Heart rate is leveling, doctor." The first woman's voice was the last thing Dean heard before slipping into a beautifully peaceful sleep; a simple pleasure he had not been able to indulge in for what felt like years. He fell comfortably in the beckoning darkness, his last thought being a prayer that Sam was okay.
o0o-o0o-o0o
Bobby paced in front of the emergency room doors. After checking on Dean and finding him back to his sleeping self, he'd run down to the ER to intercept the ambulance Sam would be on. Bobby knew when it arrived the paramedics would bark at him to get out of the way, but he just needed to see Sam. To make sure he was okay or alive, at least. Bobby shook his head. That boy was so damn stubborn; just like his brother and daddy. He had to be alright.
If only Sam had allowed him to help though, maybe he wouldn't be needing an ambulance right now. He had an earful coming his way. The second Sam woke up, Bobby was going to hug him and ream him up one side and down the other; not necessarily in that order.
Bobby's attention jerked back to outside at the sound of a siren. He blew out a withheld breath, mild relief filling him. He knew they didn't keep the siren on if the patient didn't survive the drive to the hospital. The ambulance screeched to a halt in front of the doors. Bobby stood stock-still and watched through the glass as the doors to the back of the ambulance flew open and two paramedics jumped out. He saw the wheels of a stretcher extend below the door and a moment later the whole device came into view. Bobby's heart clenched and his stomach flopped uncooperatively at the sight of Sam's inert body as it was loaded from the van. Red and blue lights danced over the young man's motionless features and an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth.
Bobby moved automatically to the side as the paramedics rushed through the sliding doors, but kept his eyes on Sam, scanning carefully for obvious injury. He quickly located a bandage soaked through with blood on Sam's right shoulder. Miscolored patches of skin on his stomach suggested early signs of bruising, but there was no wrapping to indicate broken ribs. Two squares of gauze flanked both sides of Sam's neck, and the amount of blood drying on his face, neck and bare chest made Bobby feel sick. Now he fully understood why the girl on the phone had gone on about it like she had; Sam looked like he had more blood on him than in him. Bobby jogged to catch up with the stretcher, wanting to get as much information as he could before Sam disappeared through the white double doors that had taken Dean just the previous night.
"What's wrong with him?"
One of the medics half-turned to look at Bobby, but kept walking.
"Sir, please step back."
"I swear the next person who says that to me..." "Not until you answer my question, young man."
The medic stopped, Bobby along with him, and faced him fully. The stretcher and remaining medics and nurses continued on through the doors.
"And who might you be?"
Bobby watched over the snippy man's shoulder until Sam was out of view before answering.
"I'm the boy's uncle. Mind answering me now?"
The medic pursed his lips in an expression commonly known as a "bitch face" and he looked Bobby up and down. Bobby returned the stubborn stare and glanced at the medic's name tag: Ace. "Huh, no wonder he's pissy. His parents named him 'Ace'." Ace broke eye contact first and breathed out an impatient sigh. He looked past Bobby and motioned with his hand. A nurse appeared and handed Ace a clipboard. He glanced up at Bobby once more before flipping through the papers.
"Found unconscious at the scene. Heart beat weak, O2 levels low. He was bleeding profusely from his nose, looks like he was coughing up blood, and there's what appears to be a damn-right nasty looking stab wound on his right shoulder. Bruising on his back and abdomen. He took one hell of a beating that's for sure."
Bobby nodded along with the report, eyes widening minutely when Ace mentioned the nose bleed. "No...he couldn't have..."
"What caused the nose bleed?"
Ace shrugged. "Can't be for sure until some tests are done. The nose itself wasn't damaged or broken, so no one socked him. Could be a brain hemorrhage."
Bobby's head jolted back in surprise. "Brain hemorrhage?"
Ace put a hand up and curled his shoulders in in mock-defense. "Hey, I said maybe. In some cases, head trauma can cause intense nose bleeds. Just sit tight here. We'll know soon enough."
With that, Ace turned and headed towards the doors through which Sam had just disappeared. Bobby sighed and swept one hand under his jacket, resting it on his hip, the other hand reaching up to scratch under the back of his hat. A familiar rumbling sound coming from outside caught his attention and immediately puzzled him. He turned to the doors leading out to the ER drive-up. The ambulance had been pulled away already and parked in its place was the Impala. A young girl, around Sam's age Bobby assessed, stepped out of the car, looking scared and lost. Her dark eyes darted around in an unsure manner as she walked around the Impala towards the sliding doors of the ER entrance. Her body language screamed "freaked to hell." Her shoulders hunched up towards her ears and her arms were locked protectively around her middle.
Bobby approached her as she walked through the doors, coaxing a slightly startled and nervous look from the girl.
"Dianna?" He offered softly.
The girl's expression relaxed a little and she nodded. "You're the guy on the phone."
Her voice sounded almost normal now, though she was still clearly shaken.
"I'm Bobby, Sam's uncle."
Diana smiled shyly and rubbed absently at her arms as if trying to keep warm. Bobby glanced out to the Impala and back at the girl.
"Uh...how'd you-?"
The keys jingled in Dianna's hand as she held them up, the ring looped over her index finger.
"Sorry." She smiled sheepishly. "I found them in his pocket. The paramedics wouldn't let me ride and I just...ya know, wanted to make sure he was okay." Her face fell a bit. "Is he?"
Bobby shrugged and shook his head. "Don't know anything yet."
Dianna's eyes took on a glassy appearance and Bobby motioned out to the Impala, quickly changing the subject. "It's a good thing you brought her back, trust me when I say you prevented a storm."
Dianna smiled weakly and wiped at her eyes with shaky fingers. "He's protective of her, huh?"
"It's his brother's car, but yeah. It's sort of...their...home."
Dianna nodded in understanding, a look of sadness darkening her features. Bobby motioned to a nearby chair.
"I'm sorry, are you alright?"
Dianna gratefully sat down, shrugging at the question. "I...I guess so. I mean I still don't know what happened, but..." She paused a second and looked at Bobby hesitantly. "Sam? Is it?" Bobby nodded. "Did...something...do that to him?"
Bobby tensed. How could she know? Oh God, had she been awake for it? He always hated to be the one to tell normal people whose lives hadn't been torn about by evil that there was a whole mess of stuff out there that they didn't want to know about. He cleared his throat in an act of avoidance.
"What do you mean?"
Dianna's shoulders hunched forward and she rubbed her hands together between her knees. "Well, there was...this stuff set up. LIke candles and freaky symbols and this bowl filled with weird saw dusty stuff."
"Summoning ritual. I knew it." Bobby blinked and looked away; he didn't feel like dealing with this right now. He needed to find out more about Sam and get back to Dean.
"Is Sam a...a Satanist?"
Bobby's eyes darted back to Dianna's dead-serious face, her big eyes cautiously questioning. He couldn't help the chuckle that burst past his lips.
"No, sweetheart. No, he was just...uh...Sam was-"
"Mr. Cash?"
Bobby nearly melted with relief at hearing his name called. Even if it was fake, it still saved him from giving the poor girl an explanation that she probably didn't want to hear. Bobby looked up and saw a small nurse in pink scrubs looking at him. He recognized Jillian, the nurse who had been so kind to Sam. He turned back to Dianna.
"Excuse me."
Dianna smiled softly and sat back in her chair as Bobby stood and approached Jillian.
"I just heard they brought Paul in." Jillian said, her stress-aged face drawn with concern and sympathy. "What happened?"
"Oh, Sam just went off, summoned a demon and may or may not have used his psychic powers to save his brother from Hell. Ya know, your typical ER statistic." Bobby simply shrugged. "I don't know yet. He's got a stab wound and one guy said something about a possible brain hemorrhage, but that's all I've heard."
"Oh dear." Jillian sympathized, a look of true sadness crossing her face.
"Yeah." Bobby concurred.
Jillian reached out and gave Bobby's arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. I'll be sure to keep an eye on him." She finished with a wink.
Bobby nodded and looked down, shuffling his feet.
"I heard Simon woke up."
Bobby furrowed his eyebrows and flicked questioning eyes up to the nurse. "Who?"
"Your other nephew?" Jillian offered.
Bobby inwardly winced. "Smooth, Singer." "Oh, uh yeah. He did."
Jillian smiled sweetly. "If I may say so, you've got some pretty wild nephews, Mr. Cash."
Bobby laughed quietly and shook his head. "You have no idea."
...To Be Continued...
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So if reality existed in Fanfiction, I'm aware that Sam's stab wound would be pinned to Dianna due to the fact that her prints are on the knife (And the knife would go into evidence lock up and Dianna would get into trouble). I'm not sure if any of you may have thought that, but as before...just smile and wave: ) Because this is NOT CSI, or Law & Order or any of the millions of the cookie-cutter crime shows out there...this is Supernatural and a logical explanation is not always needed; )The boys are...well...they're THE boys and they could easily reclaim the knife from evidence lock up if it came to that. They've been in trickier situations. Aaaanywho, I'll stop pointing out the plot-holes of my story. It's about the boys, not technicalities.
Okay, the final chapter will be up tomorrow. I hope it satisfies as a finale. My editor thought parts of it were a bit cheesy, but she is not as into the EMO as some of us are and I refuse to change it cause I feel it is completely necessary. I hope ya'll will feel the same way.
Reviews are like saying "Son of a bitch!"...and I'm Dean: )
Oo-Lil-oO
