Once more thanks for the reviews.
Rage
Chapter eight
The Bar
Dean walked over, sat down at the bar, and ordered a double. He gulped it down then ordered another. He could feel the liquor burn his throat then settle in his empty stomach. He wanted to hurt….Sammy was hurting and he wanted to too. In his mind he knew there was nothing he could have done, he had tried to stop the thing from taking over his body and hurting Sam but he couldn't. But in his heart…it was another story. He had shot his little brother, a brother he had tried to protect all of his life. He had shot him, and could have killed him. He downed his second drink and ordered a third. He could feel the alcohol doing what he wanted it to, numb him. Dean took out his cell phone and looked to see if he had any messages, he didn't. He once more dialed his dad, and shook his head annoyed when the voice mail once more came on.
"Dad where the hell are you! Sammy could have died tonight and you don't even call to see if he's okay! What's going on Dad? Don't you give a damn about us anymore? Why won't you call us?" Dean hung up then sat there looking at his phone. Why the hell was their Dad ignoring them? Sammy had called him when he thought Dean could die when his heart was damaged and now when he called him about Sammy being shot…. He knew his dad always checked his voice mail. He had been with the man all his life and knew that was one thing he did constantly. But why didn't he call them back, just to make sure they were okay? Dean was tempted to throw the phone against the wall but thought better of it and shoved it back in his pocket. He finished his drink and ordered another.
"Don't you think you've had enough buddy?" The bartender said.
"I'll let you know when I've had enough." Dean reached in his pocket and threw some money on the counter.
"Well I'm telling you you've had enough. You just drank six shots of whiskey in about five minutes."
"I just need one more." Dean hoped one more drink would dull the pain in his heart.
"Sorry, but you're not getting it here."
Dean stood up and fell against the bar as the drinks hit him all at once. He headed for the door; he needed to be near Sam. Three men seeing him stagger immediately went to his aide.
"Here buddy we'll help you." They grabbed him and helped him toward the door.
"I'm fine; I'm just need to get back to the hospital." Dean mumbled as the men led him outside. But instead of leading him to the hospital they took him into the alley. One of the men punched him in the stomach while the other reached for his wallet. Dean grunted and went down to one knee but quickly recovered. He managed to punch the man in the face and he too went down. But Dean was in no condition to fight and soon was overpowered. He lay in the alley while the men emptied his wallet then tossed it down at him. The last thing he saw was a shoe flying toward his face.
The next morning
Dean woke up groaning.
"Oh man…." He reached up and touched his jaw which felt like it had been disconnected from his head. He slowly sat up and leaned against the dumpster. What the hell happened? He put his head in his hands trying to remember how he had got there. Then he thought of his brother. Sammy! He sat up and looked around
"Sam! Sam you there?" He called out. He looked around expecting to see Sam lying somewhere near by. He struggled to his feet then reached down and picked up his empty wallet. Did we get jumped? "Sam where the hell are you?"
He swayed a little, and leaned against a wall. Damn he thought. I've had hangovers before but… Then it was as if a light went off in his head. Sam's in the hospital….I shot him!
He headed out of the alley; his only thought was to get to Sam as quickly as possible.
Hospital
Dean hurried down to the recovery room. It was the last place he remembered seeing Sam. He went to the nurse's station.
"Excuse me, my brother's in recovery and I wonder if you could give me an update on his condition."
"What's the name?"
"Sam Conners." Dean said using the name on the fake medical ID card he had given the hospital.
The nurse looked at her chart and then looked up at him. He could tell something was wrong.
"What's the matter?" He said his heart pounding in his chest.
"Let me get the head nurse." She walked away and returned with the nurse who had met him in the recovery room.
"What's wrong? How's my brother?" Dean's heart felt like it was going to break through his chest.
"Where were you? I kept calling for you."
"I went out for a while."
"Yeah, I can see that." The nurse could smell the alcohol on him and looked at him angrily.
"Is something wrong with my brother?" Dean swallowed hard, scared of what she might say.
"Your brother woke up and was asking for you. He became very agitated when we couldn't find you and he tried to get out of bed, apparently he thought you were in some kind of trouble. He fell and ripped open his incision. We had to take him back to the operating room."
Dean felt a cold chill run through his whole body. Sam had needed him and he wasn't there for him.
"Is he going to be okay?" He could barely speak.
"I don't know….In his weaken condition…" She shook her head sadly. "I just don't know."
TBC