A/N:
I would like to say 'Thank You' to all of you who reviewed my story. I really appreciate every single comment. Special thanks to (Evergreene) for the helpful tip.
I scribbled this chapter down quickly, so there is probably a massive amount of mistakes down there. I will edit it as soon as I can.
Unconditional
Part 2
Dean was practically chewing on his fingers, seething with impatience as he sat in the back seat of the hired cab. He desperately wished he still had his most precious, most reliable Impala. With everything that's been going on recently, he hardly had time to mourn the loss of his staunch companion.
Dean sighed and for the hundredth time since he got in the car, urged the driver to speed up. The driver threw him an annoyed look that clearly said 'if you say that again, I'm gonna throw you out!', but Dean didn't care. All he cared about, was to get to his brother, and if that man was going to stand in his way, then he'll simply kick him out, and drive to the place himself.
His fingers tapped his thigh nervously as his mind stormed with thoughts that tore him apart. Dean's mind and hunter instinct screamed that it was a trap, but his heart told him otherwise. His hand, absently, checked the guns he had on him, and closed his eyes with a tired sigh.
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"Hey mister, we're here."
Dean snapped his eyes open, and practically jumped out of the car. "Wait out here."
The driver snorted, but nodded anyway. Looking around, he huffed, "This place is deserted, you sure this is the right place?"
Dean ignored him as he made his way through the dark street, taking a turn on the leery looking alley. The driver watched as Dean slowly disappeared from view, and shook his head in wonder. Yet another crazy customer!
Dean took one careful step at a time, gun drown and ready. His eyes skillfully scanning the area around him for any sign of his brother, or any other presence. At first, nothing caught his attention, then out of the corner of his eyes and under the pale light from the old street lamp, he caught a glimpse of the long limbs. Dean's heart thudded painfully against his chest as he drew closer, and sure enough, what appeared to be his brother was sprawled limply against a wall, head dangling over his chest.
"Sam?" Dean called softly, hoping for a sign, any sign, from the still figure.
The figure moved, and the head slowly rose. Dean watched as his brother stared up at him with pain-filled eyes.
"Sam?" Dean asked again, still not entirely sure if he should trust that the person in front of him is really his brother.
Sam inhaled sharply. "Dean, ...I."
As their eyes locked, Sam began to shake and the corners of his mouth started to tremble and curl downward, a sign Dean recognized since they were children. And then, there was no doubt in his mind that this was his brother.
Dean hurried and knelt by Sam's side, his hands instantly flew to hold his brother's shoulders. Sam tried to speak, but the next thing he knew, he was embraced by Dean's strong arms as his older brother gathered him in his arms and hugged him tightly. "It's allright, Sammy. I got you now," Dean kept repeating, and Sam didn't know whether Dean was trying to comfort him or himself, but he didn't care either way. Being in his brother's arms, although painful to his battered body, felt extremely good.
Dean felt Sam shake against him, and felt raw anger toward the one who caused his brother to be in such a state consume him. Dean held Sam close, and tried to calm himself down and force his mind to register that his baby brother was finally safe in his arms. He felt Sam sigh and lay his head against his shoulder. Dean held him, until he felt Sam stop shaking, and then he slowly drew away.
"Sam, talk to me. You okay, little brother?"
Sam breathed sharply, and managed to shake his head.
"Where are you hurt?" Dean could see the alarming amount of dried blood that covered the side of Sam's head and his clothes. He felt his stomach churn in worry.
"Everything," Sam blurted softly, "My back mostly."
Dean's frown exposed his worry. "Can you stand, Sam?"
Sam took a moment to consider that, before answering quietly, "I don't know."
"Here, let's get you up," Dean decided it was best if he hurried and got Sam out of here, so he put his arms under Sam's shoulders and lifted gently with a grunt, "There is a cap waiting for us."
Sam gasped, as pain shot through his back and legs, and when Dean managed to get him halfway up, the pain became just unbearable, and he screamed in agony, sending Dean into a frenzy of panic and worry. He instantly laid Sam back, as gently as he could muster. Sam kept huffing and panting excitedly as he struggled to control the pain that was shooting through his body and consuming his mind. His hands were clutching and clawing at Dean's arms painfully, but neither of them noticed. Dean shook himself from his panic, and snatched his cell phone from his pocket. One hand kept a steady hold on his brother, while the other shook as he dialed for an ambulance.
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Later at the Hospital:
"Dad," Dean spoke quietly into the phone so not to disturb his slumbering brother, not that Sam was likely to be disturbed with all the drugs he's been bumped with.
Dean could hear voices on the other line, indicating that his father was in the middle of some crowded place.
"Son, any news?"
"I found Sam."
Dean could hear John's quick intake of breath as the information hit him.
"Is he ..okay?"
"He's in bad shape," Dean revealed grimly, "His body is filled with massive bruises and cuts. He has a severe chest injury that's affecting his back and spine. They tell me he's going to be in a lot of pain for a long time. They also say, that it's going to take him a long time to recover and get back on his feet."
"Dear God, how long?"
Dean paused then slowly sighed, "Six months, maybe less."
Silence.
"How did you find him?"
"He called me."
"How did he get away?"
Dean sighed again, throwing a quick glance at the still figure of his brother laying on the hospital bed, "I didn't get a chance to talk to him yet, dad."
Silence.
"Are you coming?" Dean wanted to know.
"No," John said resolutely.
"But dad, Sam ..."
"I'm so close to finding that bastard, Dean, I could feel it."
"Dad, you can't do this. You can't face it alone, especially now after we lost the colt."
"I can't risk losing this trail, Dean."
"It's not safe. Besides, how can you kill it?" Dean pushed.
"I'm working on it."
"But, dad ..."
"Listen son, this thing is after Sam, you heard it. Your brother isn't safe. That demon will never leave him alone-will never leave us alone. Now more than ever we know we must kill it. It's the only way."
Dean stiffened, and his eyes turned hard.
"Keep an eye on your brother."
Dean nodded into the phone, struggling with a sudden lump that rose to his throat.
"Dean," John paused, "be careful son. We don't know what that son of a bitch did to Sam. As much as I'm glad he's gotten away, I don't see how he could've managed to escape the clutches of that demon. Dean, it could be a trap. Just keep your eyes open, and keep me posted. Try to talk to Sam as soon as you can."
"Yes sir, I will," Dean promised as he cast yet another worried glance his brother's way. "I will."
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