-1Bar Fights and Bullets
Chapter 21
The panic in his son's voice at that single word sent a rush of adrenaline through John unlike any he had ever felt before and within seconds he was bursting through the door to Dean's room. The sight before him caused his blood to instantly run cold.
Sam was kneeling in front of Dean desperation in his eyes as he tried to pry the older man's fingers from the object still lodged in his thigh. "Let go Dean… come on…" His voice was no more then a shaken whisper.
"Get out of the way." John blinked swallowing down the questions now arising in his thoughts as he closed the gap between him and his son's practically pushing Sam out of the way and kneeling down.
Dean's eyes were vacant as he continued to stare down at his leg now streaked with his own blood that was continuing to flow from his open wound.
It was only now as his father took control of the situation that Sam glanced down at his hands, his heart forgetting to beat in his chest as he stumbled backward until he was finally rewarded with the cold hard surface of the far wall. Sliding down it he stared in disbelief at his once more blood covered hands a million flashes of not so distant memories filling his thoughts and over taking his mind.
Blood. Dean's blood, was once again on his hands.
Cold.
Lifeless.
He grips his brother's body to him the rain pouring down around them he cradles the older man in his arms praying to feed the strength he needs to survive into him. The sound of Dean's desperate gasps for breath filling his ears and echoing through his entire body.
Blood, so much blood, his brothers blood, bathing him as he helplessly lets tears begin to fall.
His brother is on the verge of death and no matter how hard Sam holds to him, no matter how many prayers he says, there is nothing he can do….
Helpless eyes look at him, burn into him, plead with him to do something, anything, but there is nothing he can do.
The blood on his hands, his brothers blood, his blood, Winchester blood, is thick and rich with life but it pours like a flooded river robbing Dean of each breath, each word…. Robbing him of his existence as his eyes begin to close.
His tears turn to sobs his desperate cries ringing out into the night unheard.
"Dean let go…" John keeps his voice firm and steady even as fear radiates from his gaze.
"Not until I feel it…" His son's words are small and distant.
"You will son… You just need to give it time, now let go and that's an order."
Orders were the one thing that John Winchester's sons knew to obey, they would never question them, they would simply oblige so when Dean's fingers still did not loosen and his hand still did not move, John's frown deepened and the worry inside of him reached new heights. "Dean Damn-it!"
"Sam? What the hell happened here? Help-" John glanced back over his shoulder and his words died off on his lips as he saw his youngest son sitting unbelievably still in the corner his eyes not so much as blinking as he stared down at his hands, or more directly at the blood now covering them. "Sammy?!?!"
There was not so much as a shrug in response. John swallowed hard looking from one son to the other, repeating the motion a few times before finally releasing his grasp on Dean's fingers and crossing the small distance to the other side of the room where Sam was currently placed.
"Sammy…" He said again placing his hand on his son's knee his voice pleading, he was not one to buckle under pressure, he was strong and fearless, he could handle anything…. Anything of course unless it had to do with his sons, they were his Achilles heel one might say.
"Son please…" He gave the knee under his palm a small squeeze and when still there was not a word spoken his worry turned to anger and his head snapped back to look in Dean's direction, "Dean, you snap out of whatever the hell is going on with you right now…" His words were laced with panic.
Hearing the desperation in his father's tone registering his surroundings in an instant Dean's head snapped up and he was again fully aware of the world around him his eyes immediately landing on the figure slumped against the wall only a few feet in front of him… "Sammy???" He swallowed hard and blinked a few times before looking down at his fingers still holding tight to the pen that he himself had driven into his flesh.
Without a second through he pulled it free, ignoring the blood now pouring even faster from his wound he undid his lap belt and was on the floor in a matter of seconds cursing himself and his actions as he made his way slowly to his brothers side.
"Oh god… What did I do?" He whispered under his breath ignoring the look of death he was now receiving from his father as he rested his hand on his brothers chin and forced Sam's face up tearing his gaze from his blood drenched hands.
"Sammy?!?!"
Hearing his brother's voice a shaking whisper in his ears, Sam's vision cleared, the memories in his mind dulling to the same faded painful images that would always remain inside of him.
Dean was okay, Dean was talking, Dean was worried… Not broken… And Sam was angrier than he had ever remembered feeling before.
In unison John and Dean both exhaled in relief as they watched clarity return to Sam's eyes his jaw twitching slightly in response to his brother's hand placed there.
"Sammy I'm so-" Dean's words were cut short as he felt his brother's fist come in contact with his jaw bone hard. Dean had been hit before, harder and stronger, but none had ever been as painful, as the blow Sam had just delivered. He brought his hand to his face and stared in disbelief at his baby brother. Sam, his Sammy had hit him.
Sam's fist remained in the air and he thought momentarily about striking Dean again, his jaw locked his gaze angry as it tore into the older man. Slowly, hesitantly he let his arm fall to his side, but still he did not look away.
Dean could see it, the fire and the fear from his brother's eyes, burning deep inside of him in a place he didn't even remember having before now, there was a pain that ran deeper then any he had ever felt before and a scar had instantly been placed inside of him by the look he had caused to appear on his baby brother's features. The one thing in his life he couldn't do with out, the one person he swore he would never hurt…… the one he was supposed to protect and keep safe…. He had destroyed.
"Sam…." He tried again.
"Don't." Sam's reply was colder then ice as he rose to his feet and stepped around both John and Dean.
John had found no need to speak up until this moment as he watched Sam exit the room and turned to Dean, "What the hell were you thinking pulling a stunt like that?" He tired as best he could to ignore the look of devastation and pain in his eldest boy's eyes, he needed to be strong, he needed to scold him, after all Dean had brought this all on himself. Now he needed to deal with the consequences.
Dean looked away from his father and down toward the carpet beneath him the guilt gnawing at his insides like a vicious hell hound, "I wasn't…"
"Well that's obvious…."
"I-I just… I wanted to feel, I didn't care what the cost was I wanted to feel something, anything,…. I don't expect you to understand…" He fingered a few strands of the carpet in an attempt to avoid the disappointed eyes of his father he could feel still glaring at him.
"Well, it sure as hell cost more then a bet you thought it was going to now didn't it?"
"How was I supposed to know he was going to fly off the deep end like that?" Dean knew exactly the cost his father was referring to and he had to admit his defense was more than lame.
"How the hell was he supposed to react? You know what your accident did to him mentally, for Christ's sake Dean he almost lost you! The most important thing in his life… Your blood was on his hands and he felt it was his fault! And-And now you do this? You put him through this?!"
"I SAID I'M SORRY!!!!" Dean's head snapped up and John swore for only a second his son's chin was trembling before he forced it steady again, "What else do you want me to do?!?!"
"It's to late now… There is nothing you can do…" John rose to his feet halting the conversation. From the look of his son he knew that the scolding Dean was giving himself was far worse then any he could ever administer. "You're going to have to give him time…. Now lets get you cleaned up."
Dean nodded as his father helped him back into his chair and the two of them headed toward the bathroom in silence, in a normal situation, for any other family a wound like the one Dean was currently sporting would require a trip to the emergency room. However, one of the few perks of being a Winchester was that stitches and sutures were more common then a home cooked meal and dear old dad was a pro at playing doctor.
As they made their way down the hallway Dean looked up to see his brother sitting stone faced on the sofa staring at the television which wasn't even on. At least he was still there at least he hadn't taken off in a fit of rage to get drunk again or do something reckless, end up hurting himself or someone else….
Sam saw the two figures pass by out of the corner of his eye and fought against everything inside of him that told him to look their way, to look and see that Dean was really alright, to study him… He couldn't, he was to angry, he didn't care about his brother's pain….. Or at least he didn't want to….
John used his foot to put the break on his son's wheelchair before retrieving the rubbing alcohol, some gauze and a package of sutures from the cabinet. It took nearly 10 minutes just to get Dean's pants off the blood both dry and fresh mixing, causing the fabric of his jeans to stick to his flesh. It would have been much easier had Sam been there to help, but asking for that was currently just about as useful as asking for a miracle.
"You got yourself good…" John cleared his throat after a minute unable to any longer stand the silence thickly surrounding them.
"Yeah well, you taught me never to do anything if I'm going to do it half assed…"
John nodded as he unscrewed the top from the alcohol bottle and looked up, "With all the knives we have in this house… With so many other options, couldn't you have picked something a little cleaner then a pen?"
Dean shrugged and smirked uncomfortably, "Spur of the moment idiocy has no limits I guess."
"Yeah well… Next time try to plan out your stupid moves better will you? They'll be a lot less messy that way…."
"How about if there is just no next time?"
John sighed and shook his head, "Don't get me wrong, this is probably the stupidest thing you have ever done… but we all do things we regret son, we all do things that don't exactly prove us to be the sharpest tool in the shed."
"I don't!"
"Oh no?"
"Well… not usually."
"It's part of life, the day we stop making mistakes is the day we land ourselves six feet under."
Dean thought about retorting but simply let the silence once again devour him, the only thing he could think about was how he was going to make things right again with Sam, they were a team, he needed him, he couldn't make it through this without him, and now he had pissed him off and ruined him without even giving it a second thought.
John shook his head before turning his attention back to the task at hand and pouring the rubbing alcohol into the wound decorating his son's leg. He knew that Dean couldn't feel it, but that didn't make it anymore comfortable for him. Every stitch he had ever driven into either one of his sons, every cut he bandaged. Every wound he tended to hurt him far worse then it would ever hurt them.
Leaning back in his chair Dean closed his eyes trying to will his thoughts blank, trying for only a second to stop thinking about what he had just done but it was no use, he had screwed up.. Big time.
His closed lids shot open only seconds later as a stinging burn quickly wracked through his lower left limb and he bit back a scream instead releasing a small noise that was half yelp and half grunt followed closely by a few short and broken intakes of breath.
Pain… true burning and breath choking pain was devouring his body.
John pulled back slightly as the leg he had been tending to trembled accompanied very shortly after by the sound of his son's ragged breaths. "Dean?" He looked up again to find his son looking down at him through half open glazed over eyes his face contorted into a look of discomfort that could only be the result of real physical pain.
"God…." Dean breathed out the joys of feeling his limb currently over shadowed by the pain residing there…
John drew his lip into his mouth his feelings mirroring those of his son's as he inhaled deeply. "You're okay…" He tried to sound reassuring.
Dean had been bandaged and stitched so many times he was like a walking map of previous injuries but never, never did he remember feeling a pain this deep and this strong…. "Stop…" He begged almost sobbing, a very un-Dean like gesture, still attempting to catch his breath, "It hurts…"
"I have to stitch it up…." John tried to keep his own fear at bay, Dean was not the type to cower in any painful situation, he would stand up and take it like a man, to see him hurting, to see him near tears was enough to break the stubborn man's heart.. He had no choice, he needed Sam.
"SAMMY?!?!?!"
Sam's head snapped up toward the sound of his name ringing through the house from the bathroom toward the back and hesitated shaking his head.
"No, not this time…" He whispered to himself trying to hold his ground and his grudge, he was not going to give in that easily he was not going to pretend like nothing had happened.
"SAMMY… PLEASE!" Came another call louder and more desperate then the last, Sam felt himself faultier and he was on his feet, standing at the bathroom door before he could stop himself, his hand on the knob he stopped.
"What?!" He made sure the agitation in his voice was evident
"I need your help… Please?" John knew that his youngest son's temper was still delicate but looking at Dean placed before him, there was no way either one of them was going to get through this alone. John needed his son, and Dean needed his brother no matter how much anger was currently resting between them.
Sam growled and reminded himself to stay angry, that no matter what he found beyond the door before him, no matter how pathetic his brother looked or what help he needed, he was going to stay angry. He had to Dean deserved it….
Reluctantly he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Hey Sammy…" At the sight of his little brother Dean threw on as much of a cocky smile as he could muster, but even as he tried to steady his breathing he only found his breaths coming out more and more ragged as he bit back the pain.
"What the… what's going on?" Sam's brow rose in confusion.
"It….It would appear as though your brother has come down with a case of the I can feel it's" John looked to his youngest.
"What?!?!" Sam looked from his father to his brother, "Really???"
"Does it look like I'm faking to you?" Dean tried not to sound so snappy as another sharp pain interrupted his bantered retort. "AH, Good lord."
Sam smiled inwardly as he kneeled down next to his brother the anger he had sworn to hold on to no matter what happened slowly moving to the back of his mind…. "Well… that's great."
"Yeah.." Dean words were not as optimistic as he nodded sweat sliding down his forehead, he found himself subconsciously reaching over and gripping with all his strength on to his brother's forearm that was resting on his chair as John began stitching him up.
"Deep breaths." Sam demanded seeing the pain this situation was causing and jumping into sooth mode putting his hand over his brothers in a swift mindless motion "In and out…. He'll be done before you know it…"
Dean looked to Sam and chuckled a little even in his current pain filled state he couldn't ignore the irony in this situation. "I-I guess…. This gives whole new meaning to the phrase ask and ye' shall receive doesn't it?"
"I guess it does…" Sam shook his head and snorted a little.
"I was expecting a tingle… or a dull ache not a full on tear you apart and eat your insides out pain…"
"Yeah well, no offense but you deserve it jerk."
"Look…." Dean drew in a breath that was shaky this time not from the pain, but rather from what he was about to say… Apologies were definitely not his forte even when they were well deserved "I-I'm sorry…. You're my brother, and what I put you through, what I did to you…. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair…. I uh, I couldn't have pulled through any of this without you and I just…." Dean's words died off as he watched his brother's eyes visibly soften.
"Is this the pain talking?" Sam scoffed jokingly trying to lighten the mood.
"Shut up!"
"Just don't go stabbing yourself anymore alright?"
Dean smirked and looked down at his leg with a nod as his father finished the last stitch into his flesh. "Alright."
Eh, I'm not to keen on this chapter, but I wanted to thank you all for your wonderful replies to the last one! You are the reason that I keep this one going so please let me know what you think, the good the bad and the ugly I want it all.