Supernatural: Fighting for You
Disclaimer: I really wish I owned them... :/
A/N: :)
Everything went by in a blur as Sam pulled up to the hospital, the emergency staff meeting him at the door as he frantically described the injury. They lifted Dean out of the car and onto a stretcher and Sam tried to see if Dean was conscious.
Dean had stopped groaning halfway to the hospital and Sam knew that was a bad sign. Standing in the doorway as they rushed his brother back, every emotion he had felt since realizing his brother was dying hit him in full force. His heart was having difficulty process all of the overwhelming emotions.
Fighting through the emotional ups and downs, he focused on the fact that Dean was back. Dean was better off than he had been an hour ago, but there was a sense of foreboding that had settled in Sam's gut after hearing what the demon had said.
They were once again caught between heaven and hell. And now everything wants to kill us. Sam smirked and shook his head as he corrected himself. Everything that already wanted to kill us is now more motivated.
Running his hand down his face, he reluctantly pulled himself away from the emergency room. He needed to park the impala and call Jody. He was beyond grateful for what Castiel had done and that an angel would be coming to help protect Dean, but he wasn't sure he completely trusted them. Especially after everything they'd been through and the thought that heaven was somehow stronger with Dean's death.
With a sigh, he moved toward the impala, weariness strongly reflected in his posture, a hand going to his ribs as they made their discomfort known.
Grunting, he settled into the driver's seat and moved her to the emergency room parking lot. Getting out and opening the trunk, he grabbed the hex protection bags and the flasks with holy water. Moving towards the front of the car, he placed one around the rear-view mirror. Putting one around his neck, he put the other in his pocket and closed and locked the impala.
Walking back towards the hospital doors, he spoke briefly with Jody. She promised to be there within the next three hours.
His mind replaying the events over and over, he turned the corner that would take him back to the emergency doors, and barely reacted in time to avoid having his head smashed in.
"Woah!" he grunted, the black eyes of a demon flashing in the face of a perfect stranger.
Swiftly, he grabbed the demon knife he'd stuffed in his waistband and stabbed the demon in the heart, looking away as the demon fizzled out.
Carefully moving the body, grateful to have been in a blind spot for the security cameras, no doubt intentionally done by the demon, he stashed it behind some bushes and underneath some mulch.
Dusting his hands off, he felt a rib shift and grunted through the agony.
Placing the knife back in his waistband, he quickly checked the area to see if there were more. Reason told him that if one demon had found him, others were sure to follow, but there was nothing he could do about it now. They would just have to prepare for them when they came.
Making his way inside the hospital more cautiously, he bypassed the nurse's station, grabbing a white coat and making his way into the back of the hospital. If there was a demon outside, there might be one inside.
Checking several operating rooms, several occupied with various surgeries and a few empty, he finally found the one his brother was in. Grabbing a mask and eye protection from a nearby cart, he casually walked in, doing his best to ignore the urgent tones and medical jargon surrounding the still form of his brother.
Dean was on his stomach, a blue surgical cloth draped over his body, a large square in the middle revealing the pale skin of his back, areas of it orange from what he would guess to be iodine and red from dried blood. The surgeons were busy repairing the damage, bloody scalpels and tools laying on a table to the side.
IV lines were hooked up to Dean, pumping blood back into his body along with saline. Sam observed the leads coming from his brother and attaching to various machines. The realness of the fact that his brother had died, come back, and was now in surgery freshly inserted itself in his mind.
Giving himself a mental shake, he walked around the urgent bustle of people surrounding his brother and, acting like he completely belonged there, bent down and placed a hex bag under the surgical table. Looking up from where he was crouched, he coughed a Christo. No one flinched. Breathing a sigh of relief, he took in the slack features of his brother's face, so close to the same expression Dean had worn in death.
Clenching his hands tightly, he forced his mind to the present. Dean is alive. We're in a freaking hospital. I will not lose him again.
Carefully getting up, Sam took one last look at his brother, nodded at one of the aids who had looked up at him, and walked out of the operating room. No one the wiser of the protection he had just given his brother.
Throwing the gloves, mask and eye protection away, he deposited the white coat on an empty stretcher and made his way back to the waiting room. Dean was in good hands, now all he had to do was wait.
The first thing he was aware of was bone-deep pain. He wanted to ignore it and fall back into the darkness, but he felt something move off to his left and his hunter instincts went to high alert. Something was weird about the air. It was clean, sterile; definitely not the last place he remembered being.
Memories fluttered into his consciousness. Vampires, something sharp in his back, Sam's face saying it was okay. Crap. I was dead. Again.
His mind flashed to seeing Bobby in heaven, his emotions mixed. He'd been happy, but unsettled. He heard a low groan and only faintly realized it was him as his mind recounted Cas showing up in the impala telling him he could come back.
He remembered breathing for the first time, the blood still in the back of his throat, and then warmth spreading through his body, grace healing him. His brain gave him pause, it still felt like he'd been stabbed. The pain wasn't as great as it had been when he'd first been impaled, but it was definitely still there.
Doing his best to take stock of himself, still debating about whether he wanted to open his eyes or fall back into the darkness, he shifted his shoulders. His breath caught as he could feel stitches pulling.
Thanks, Cas, I guess the healing mojo just ain't what it used to be.
Voices slowly filtered in, questioning and persistent; he tried to open his eyes.
"Mr. Winchester? Can you hear me?" A female voice asked him directly before muttering something to someone else in the room.
A callused hand grabbed his and he instinctively knew it was Sam. Relief washed through his system.
Struggling, he felt his eyes flutter. They were so heavy, it was like his mind was wrapped in cotton. I friggin hate drugs. With great effort, he managed to get one open. Carefully peering at the blurry figures in the room, he grunted in acknowledgment.
"Dean, can you hear me?" Sam asked, his tone concerned.
"S-sam?" He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper and sounding like he'd swallowed two handfuls of gravel.
"Yeah, it's me," Sam breathed a sigh of relief, "how's the pain?"
"I-I'm ok..." Dean mumbled, his breath hitching in his chest as a cough forced its way out. Clenching his eyes shut, Dean did his best to mask the pain, but Sam and the nurse had already seen his reaction.
"I'll notify the doctor and see about upping his pain medication." The nurse said before walking out the door, Sam nodding his appreciation.
"C-cas brought me back?" Dean asked, still barely managing to get the words out, "-I...I told y-you no deals."
Sam almost started to reason out why he did what he did when he caught the small smirk on Dean's face. Dean felt himself relaxing back into the darkness as he saw Sam's expression go from cloudy with a retort on his lips to amused and relieved.
"Jerk," Sam breathed out, a small smile pulling at his lips and the worry that had pushed his brow together dissipating.
The nurse walked back in with a syringe and as she inserted it into his IV, Dean gave Sam a weak and careful laugh, letting his eyes fall shut when the medicine hit his system, the darkness offering a healing rest, "Bit-"