AN: Heh. I was supposed to post this last night and totally forgot about it. *fail* What I post tonight might be the end, or there might be another short chapter afterword, depending on how wordy I get.
ScealaiTheRakker: Thank you so much! And holy plot bunny, Batman. It makes me very, very happy. Mind if I take that idea and run with it? I'd love to throw a one-shot out there.
BitterSweetJoy: Yes! I'm glad you like the humor. Sometimes it sneaks into my writing without permission.
Franki3Winchester: I'm so happy that you're reading! Please let me know what you think!
Shazza19: I'm always so excited to see your name when I read the comments. I like the tree hugging too. I added a bit with the little girl just for you in this chapter.
Blondie: Sending socially distant hugs for your fabulous comments! I like big monsters and I cannot lie. The comment about the tree loving being kissed made me laugh so hard!
Kathy: Hey there! I'm glad you're looking forward to more.
Zoe: Oh, thank you! How nice!
Paramedic Gail Mueller was not easily riled. It was important to her job to keep her head in all kinds of situations. But her equanimity was being severely tested right now.
They had a large number of people to help – so many that they had called for help from across the county. There were people suffering from dehydration, exposure, and other relatively simple issues, but there were also a lot of people with mauling injuries, and a few who appeared to have been beaten. Something terrible had happened here, in her town. And though they knew for a fact that there were more victims still in the woods, the sheriff himself had forbade her from going to in find them and help.
It got worse. She was facing the most mulish, stubborn person she'd ever had the misfortune to lock horns with, including her 93-year-old grandpa, who made obstinance an art form . She took a deep breath and tried to reason with him again. "Agent, your injuries are significant, and probably infected. In addition, you are obviously dehydrated and weakened from your ordeal. I have to insist that – "
"Insist nothing, girlie. I ain't leavin' until I see the boys are safe." The grizzled, older man couldn't even stand, but Gail felt it would take a crane or possibly an act of Congress to move him.
"Leave him alone, Gail," said the sheriff tiredly.
"Look, it's bad enough that you won't go to the hospital to get checked out, Greg. Agent Allen has serious injuries!"
"Gail, Bobby's not going until they come out."
Gail rolled her eyes. For whatever reason, the two men had bonded and were ganging up on her. She looked back at the other three paramedics who remained, but they avoided her gaze, intimidated by their patients.
The bearded agent grunted in agreement. "Damn straight."
Dawn was just sending a few long fingers over the horizon, but darkness still ruled the sky. In the pale light, Gail, Greg, and Bobby suddenly saw a figure stumbling out of the trees. No, two figures. The taller one's head hung low, and he didn't seem to be helping their progress. He might not even be conscious. The other wasn't moving well, either, and both were absolutely covered in dark stains. Gail stared, her mouth open. From his position on a stretcher, Bobby spoke with a level of emotion even Gail, a total stranger, could sense was unusual for him.
"Boys!"
Gail's training kicked in as the two, finally out of the trees, toppled slowly to the ground. Then it was the organized chaos she was used to – shouting for her guys, triage, stabilizing, a quick drive to the hospital. She hoped the patients would behave better for the hospital staff than they had for her.
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Dean was having a hard time waking up. Drugs. Hospital. Yeah, and he hated both of those things. The lack of control. Weakness. He struggled to wake, hating the impersonal touches he couldn't see coming, even knowing they were to help.
But then came a different kind of touch. Feather-soft, whispering across his cheekbone. Somehow it cut through the pain and the grogginess. Dean opened his eyes to see a face pushed too close to his own. It was blurry, so he blinked a few times, and a little voice, tinged with awe, said, "Mommy, it worked!"
It was Kelly, looking a lot cleaner than the last time he'd seen her. She disappeared suddenly, scooped up by her mother, who looked really embarrassed. "Agent, I am so sorry! Kelly wouldn't believe that you were okay until she saw you, but I brought her to the door, she ran right in and kissed you before I could stop her."
"I was really careful, because your face is all purple," Kelly informed him archly.
"Kelly!"
Dean blinked a few times, willing his brain and his eyes to catch up. "It's okay. Really. I'm glad she's okay too."
"I had to kiss him," Kelly was insisted, squirming to get away from her mother. "It's how I help!" She twisted harder. "I have to kiss him too, Mommy." She pointed and Dean saw for the first time that there was a second bed in the room.
"How – do you know how he is?" Dean stretched for the water on the tray, but the movement sent a bolt of pain through his other arm, almost sending him back under.
The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I can, uh, find a nurse for you. We won't bother you any more. Just…thank you for bringing my family back to me."
"Can you see if you can find an actual doctor?" asked Dean, carefully toggling his bed to a more upright position with his left hand. "And, let her give him a kiss. Maybe it will work again." Kelly's smile made all of the pain worth it. Her mother carefully lowered her over Sam so she could press a kiss on his cheek without touching him anywhere else. It didn't work, but Kelly was undeterred and blew kisses over her mother's shoulder as they left.
"Thanks, princess," called Dean.
"I'm not a princess!" crowed the little girl, even as they went out of sight. "I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaatman!"
A doctor did come, and the sheriff too, though the latter was actually far more informative. Despite Dean's exhaustion, he had many questions for both of them.
The doctor explained that Dean had needed surgery on his arm, to clean it and repair damage to the muscle. He didn't listen to much of the rest of the recitation of his myriad of injuries: concussion (duh), many contusions requiring stitches (double duh), deep muscle bruising (no shit), blah blah blah.
"And my brother? Don't tell me you can't say, because yes, he's my brother. We keep it quiet because we work together, but I am his power of attorney, so spill."
"Brothers? That must be why the other agent insisted you share a room."
Good old Bobby.
Dean listened a lot closer to Sam's litany of injuries than he had to his own. It was a very similar list, minus the arm and the surgery, plus a whole lot of tearing around his ankle. Dean frowned (wow, that hurt – note to self: no frowning) as the doctor finished. Sure, that would be impressive to most people, but honestly, they'd had worse. "He been awake at all?"
"Not yet, but his body has been through a lot. We're not concerned about it."
That's because you don't know Sam. He does everything early: walk, talk, and most of all, heal. "He's not on anything that would keep him asleep?" Dean pursued.
"No, though the pain medications might contribute to it."
The sheriff asked if he could enter right after the doctor left and Dean sent away a nurse who really felt that he should have more pain meds himself.
Greg was…not what Dean had expected. He expressed his gratitude and asked what he could do for the brothers. He'd already made sure the hospital and motel bills were covered, and written up a statement that the public could swallow, or at least better than trapped supernatural wolves had been snatching people for a sacrifice. He'd painted a tale of a sociopath who kidnapped people and used a pack of trained dogs to keep them contained. Bobby had directed him to go back and burn the gwyllgi bodies during the day, so he and Matt – Kelly's father – and Darren – the surprisingly brave teenage boy who'd been taken – had done so.
Bobby, it seemed, was quite ill with an infection, but would be fine. "He's terrorizing the hospital staff," grinned Greg. Dean could believe it.
But even so-called successful hunts had a cost. Jim Marovic had lost his leg, and in addition to the older man who had died while captured, three more people hadn't made it out of the woods. Dean's heart dropped to hear that one of them was Fay, the retired nurse who'd been the de facto den mother to a group of scared, trapped people. Dean saw the guilt he was feeling reflected on Greg's face. The sheriff grew silent for a few minutes.
"I'm sure you're tired." Greg stood to go. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yeah." Dean swallowed against the pain that was growing in his arm and somehow spreading throughout his body. He might not be able to watch over Sam the way he wanted to, but that didn't mean he was willing to stand down completely. "Slide my bed over there."