Legalities, as always Sam and Dean and all things Supernatural do not belong to me. They are the property of the CW and Kripke Enterprises. I wish they would share, but I don't think that is going to happen so I guess I will simply play in their sandbox for a bit.

Rating MA: For language and injured Dean and Sam throughout the storyline, they will also be M/M pairing although they are not brothers in this story. Pairings won't happen till later chapters, so be sure to review the warnings before reading.

If you don't like this type of thing, then don't read this story I am sure there are ones that would be more pleasing to you.

Author's Note: This story will follow Sam and Dean they continue their lives and try to deal with the challenges of their own pasts and tragic past of a child named Adam Milligan. This ride will get bumpy before it gets smooth, so be prepared.

Chalked full of angst and hurt Dean and worried Sam

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, so if there are errors, I apologize ahead of time.

Chapter 6

Rescue

Sam nearly collapsed against the unmovable door in a desperate kind of frustration; his shoulder was definitely bruised at this point. He couldn't hear Dean anymore and that was causing his brain to conjure all sorts of horrific scenarios that might actually be happening on the other side. Sam knew that Dean was hurt, and he knew that if he didn't get Dean to help soon…then he may not make it. No…I will not think like that. I cannot lose him, not because of something so out of our control. I can't. He thought.

"Edison!" He called in desperation. "Are the men with the jaws here yet?"

Edison turned sad eyes in his direction and shook his head as he furrowed his eyebrows in sympathy. He wanted Dean saved too, this man had earned that. Sam blew out a shaky breath as he leaned heavily against the door, his eyes suddenly catching on something that glinted in the light on the floor about 5 meters from where he was standing. He cast his flashlight beam in that directions, the light fell across a bar…a crowbar. Son of a bitch, maybe I can jimmy the door open. He thought as he moved quickly to the metal piece and grabbing the object of his thin hope from the floor then rushing back to the door.

He wedged the bar between the door and the doorjamb, and started pushing with all his considerable strength. For one heartbreaking moment nothing happened, and then he felt just the tiniest hint of give. He gasped in surprise and then pressed even harder against the bar providing leverage between the door and the warped sides of the walls.

"It's moving Edison." He said as he continued to press against the thing.

"Can we help?" the man asked as he stepped closer to Sam.

"Just be ready to help Dean as soon as I get this fucking thing open!" he called out, his voice strained with the effort of pushing against the unforgiving metal. Sam felt his hands slip as the sweat built up and then the twist as he repositioned his palms and felt the edge of the metal cut into his palms. The sweat combined with the blood and made for a very slick surface as he grunted with the stinging pain now pulsing through his palms.

"Dean!" he called in a desperate attempt to give the other man some hope, "I'm gonna get you out Dean." He finished, his voice cracking on the name of his soul-mate.

Suddenly the door gave…or the lock…whatever had been holding the door in place broke loose and it swung violently inside, slamming into something on the floor and stopping abruptly. Sam stumbled as his balance took him, uncontrolled, into the room and caused him to sprawl across a large metal shelf that had obviously been blocking the door only moments before. He felt more than heard the raspy intake of breath as his body came to rest painfully on the unit. He looked down and was horrified to see Dean lying, pinned, beneath him. "DEAN!" he cried as he scrambled up off the storage unit. Oh God…I landed on Dean. What if I made it worse. His thoughts were scattered but he pushed himself out the door and gestured frantically for Edison to come help him remove the thing pinning Dean against the floor. He threw his eyes back at the still form of Dean and he was getting more frantic as he saw the state of the room, his eyes flickering from side to side. Sam didn't have a clear view of Dean yet, there was still too much stuff between them. Edison stepped through and whistled low in his throat. Sam turned incredulous eyes at him and Edison just shrugged in frustration as he reached down to help lift the thing up off of the doctor.

Sam felt his hands slip momentarily as the blood created a slick surface, but he simply readjusted and wiped his hands on his jeans before wrapping his long fingers around the shelf and lifting with all his might. The thing was heavy…like really fricken heavy, but Sam didn't quit and they were eventually able to reposition it so that they could get to Dean, the metallic scent of blood was heavy inside the room and it was making Sam a little sick…because it was Dean's blood.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he took in the still form of Dean. He was lying in a large puddle of blood, his head still oozing slightly from the wound at his hairline; it was about four inches long. But what had Sam trying desperately to maintain his control over his now violently rolling stomach was the 10 plus inches of silver shining metal that were protruding from Dean's chest…exactly where Sam assumed his heart should be. "Oh God…." He whispered.

Edison took instant control of the situation and dropped to his knees next to Dean's chest, headless of the blood that was now caking his knees. He placed slightly shaking fingers against Dean's throat, praying silently that he would find a pulse. After a couple of seconds he felt the flutter of a faint and rapid pulse. But he also felt the tremors tripping through Dean's body and the too hot feel of the skin on his neck. Great…possible infection too. He thought as he wondered just how in the hell they were going to stabilize Dean enough to move him.

He pulled out his walkie and called the scene commander, "Thomas, this is Edison. We have a survivor…but he's bad. We need immediate extraction or this will be a recovery and not a rescue." Edison looked straight into Sam's eyes as he finished, hating that the guy had to hear that last part, but knowing that they desperately needed help…now. Sam was now kneeling on the other side of Dean, gently grasping the hand of the doctor, tears now flowing freely down his face. He wasn't even trying to hide them at this point, just trying to keep it together long enough to get Dean to medical care. A soft groan caught their attention and Sam's eyes flew to the glassy moss green eyes of a very confused doctor. "Dean?" he whispered as he reached up and gently ran his fingers down Dean's face, careful of the gash in his head.

Dean couldn't figure out how Sam was with him...had he died? No...because he still hurt too much for that to be a possibility, so they must here to recur him...right? He was frustrated that he couldn't hold onto any thoughts, his brain kept shifting and then the pain would pull him back. So instead Dean tried to focus on Sam's worried face and his intense eyes as he held onto Deans cold fingers. Dean hoped that this wasn't his mind playing tricks on him...because he wasn't sure he could handle that right now. He wanted to say some thing to Sam, to let him know that he knew he was there...but he could not make his voice work, all that came out was a groan. Well hell..that wasn't what I meant. Damn head injury anyways. He thought in frustration.

Dean just blinked at him, the movement was slow and sluggish…but it at least gave Sam some hope. He knew that Dean was a fighter and that he would give everything he had to live for Sam.
The next 45 minutes were the longest of Sam's life…unless you counted that time when Dean left him kneeling in the parking lot watching the tail lights of the Impala pull out of his life. But this was a close second. Dean's eyes had fluttered closed minutes after opening, his only indication that he was still in the land of the living was the ragged rise and fall of his chest. Sam was cringing every time he heard the slight wheeze in Dean's intake of air and the puddle of blood beneath Dean was growing steadily larger. Edison had slowed the fluid as much as possible with a pressure bandage at Dean's back and then wrapping the metal spike carefully to avoid any more shifting. Dean had already slid down the damn thing so there wasn't a lot more that they could do. God knew that they couldn't pull the damn thing out; Dean would bleed to death in minutes.

By the time the additional rescue personnel had arrived, Sam was ready to crack skulls, he knew that there were a lot people injured in the blast, but he only really cared about the one lying directly in front of and clinging desperately to life. The four men expertly lifted Dean and laid him in the basket; it was complete with a back board and a small pole for an IV line, which was currently pumping much needed blood into Dean's arm. He had wanted to scream at them when they had jarred Dean and he had gasped in pain, his face twisting in agony as he clenched his eyes shut. Sam watched and he had never felt so helpless. He helped to carry Dean to the hole and watched as they hooked up the lines and then began expertly pulling Dean from the blasted apart basement of the hospital. Once they had Dean securely at the top, Sam, Edison and Jackson had clambered up the ropes and pulled themselves onto the dusty shelf of concrete and rebar. Sam rushed to Dean's side and gently took his hand, his own trembling as fear washed through him at the paleness of Dean's face and nearly blue tint to his usually pale pink lips.

Edison laid a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed gently, "He's going to make it Sam." He said simply. Sam knew that there was no way that Edison could guarantee that, but he needed to believe so badly that he would have taken words of comfort from anyone and believed them with every fiber of his being. He nodded silently and then moved so they could life the litter and carry Dean from this God forsaken hell-hole, and get him to the medical care that he so desperately needed.

Sam was so glad to see the light at the end of the tunnel as the group climbed the last steps and stepped out into the now noon day sun. It was a beautiful day in LA, it belied the hell that Sam was going through and he squinted to allow his eyes a moment to adjust, he looked down at Dean and got his first really good look at the man…and his heart nearly stopped.

Dean looked like a version of a zombie off the 'walking dead' or something. He had dried blood caking his face, and a nasty gash that ran across his hairline and stopped near his left ear. The bruises that were already forming on his face and neck were a plum color already and only looked as though they would darken with time. His eyes dropped to the silver stainless steel 'spike' that was impaled into Dean's chest and he couldn't hold his stomach any longer. He turned in an instant and heaved his dinner and the coffee he had drank earlier onto the asphalt. Sam continued to dry heave until his sides were spasming and his breath was coming in short pants as his head exploded in pain. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a man place a plastic bottle of water within easy grabbing distance and step back, trying to allow Sam some privacy as he tossed his cookies all over the parking lot.

"Thanks." He managed around the dryness creeping up his throat and settling in his mouth along with the bitter taste of bile.

"Sure man." The guy said and then stepped away.

"Hey you coming with this guy or not?" A paramedic asked as he looked from where they had already loaded Dean to Sam's current position on the ground.

Sam's head came up and he pushed his hair out of his eyes as he nodded and stood up slowly, his knees threatening to buckle, but he willed them into a locked position and they actually held. "Yeah…Yes, I'm coming with you." He answered quickly, climbing slowly to his feet and closing the distance in three long strides.

"Let's go man." The paramedic said and gestured toward the back of the ambulance.

Dean was strapped into a stretcher on the mattress and there was now a saline drip in addition to the blood still running sluggishly into his veins. Sam climbed into the vehicle and settled on the empty seat next to Dean, gently taking his hand and holding it without putting pressure on the IV imbedded in the top of his hand. Dean's heart rate monitor was too slow for Sam's comfort, he was obviously fighting really hard, but Sam was just plain scared at this point. He knew enough about medicine, because of Dean, that this type of injury was more than just a little life threatening. He was lucky that he hadn't stumbled upon Dean's dead body when that door gave in. His breath caught in his chest as his mind flashed that particularly devestating scenario in front of his eyes. Sam that already knew how he would handle Dean leaving him, he had experienced that first hand that dreadful day at Stanford. But this wouldn't be like that, Dean would be gone...forever.

Sam closed his eyes and scrubbed his other hand down his face in an effort to clear the scenes from his mind's eye. They were awful; he couldn't imagine what he would become without Dean. He was the glue that held Sam together at this point; he guessed that if someone asked Dean then he would say the same. There was no way that one could exist without the other; they were two sides of the same soul…at least that was how Sam knew that they both felt. He knew that it sounded clichéd and that people would look at him like he was a complete idiot, but he didn't think that he could survive Dean's death. And he knew that Dean wouldn't survive his…without the other person there just wasn't anything to push on for.

The constant slow beeping gave Sam some hope that Dean could pull out of this, with proper medical care that he could make it through this day…and many more to come. Their prompt arrival at the emergency room in a hospital that Sam wasn't even sure of the location, gave him some indication of just how badly Dean was hurt. He was whisked through the double doors into the back and then fifteen minutes later he was in emergency surgery and Sam was left alone in the waiting room. He sank into the nasty little chairs and dropped his head into his hands, his hair falling forward in waves, his elbows resting on his knees, he was so tired and yet every time he closed his eyes all he could see was all the blood and that damn stake sticking up out of Dean's chest. He was not above praying to every deity on the face of the planet that Dean's heart wasn't injured. Sam knew that it would be a miracle if it hadn't been…but hell, I figure that the universe owes Dean a miracle after what he's been through. He thought in anger. The sudden ringing of his cell phone pulled him out his prayers, "Hello?"

"Sam? Did you find Dean?" The almost frantic voice of Dean's sister, Anna coming through the tiny speaker. Sam wanted to kick himself for not calling her immediately, but he had honestly forgotten in his concern for Dean.

"Anna, I'm so sorry I didn't call you. Yes we found Dean he is in surgery at Sacred Heart memorial hospital." Sam said quickly.

"Sam, is he okay?" she asked quietly, obviously if he was in surgery there was something wrong. She just hoped that it wasn't life threateningly serious.

Sam inhaled sharply, "No Anna. He is most definitely not okay. You should probably get over here, sooner rather than later."

It was Anna's turned to pull in an unsteady breath, "Okay…Sam. Castiel and I are on the way. My neighbor will watch my daughter until later. I don't that it would be good to have her in the hospital."

Sam chuckled, but there was no humor in the action. "No it probably wouldn't be." He said.

"We'll be there in less than 30 minutes okay?" she said in soft voice that broke slightly on her words. Anna was trying desperately to hope it together, but Sam knew here well enough to know that she wasn't doing well at all…good thing that it would probably be Cas driving the car.

Anna and Cas arrived and sat quietly in the chairs next to Sam, they didn't really try to talk to him, probably because he was staring at the floor most of the time. Nearly four hours later a doctor in green scrubs came out of the double doors and nodded in their direction. Sam sprang to his feet and was immediately in front of the doctor with hope reflecting out of his blue-green eyes as he waited for the verdict.

TBC…

Author's Note: Yeah, Dean got rescued, but recovery is going to be hard on him and Sam. I'll get that chapter up quickly.

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