Chapter 6

Sam was impatient, fidgeting, as he waited for the sun to rise. He paced along side the police vehicles as the group formulated their plan for the search. Once they agreed there was enough light, they dispersed to their vehicles. Carol motioned for Sam to enter her squad car. Sam shook his head.

"I'm going to take her car." He said quietly, but forcefully. Carol looked at another officer who shrugged his shoulders.

"We've gotten what we need from it." He said sympathetically.

"Okay, Sam. But follow us." She paused as Sam stood outside the Impala. "Is that really Dean's car?" She asked. Sam nodded. "If it is, then she's one tough chick, Sam. She'll be okay. We'll find her."

"I hope." Sam mumbled as he sat down in Dean's baby and joined the caravan of police cars. He followed as they drove about twenty miles outside of town. He wondered where they were when they stopped.

Sam joined the group. "Why here?" He asked Carol.

"There are groups of houses, cabins and shacks in this area. We have had trouble from these parts before. It seems like the best place to start." She looked intently at Sam. "Now, I know you won't stay back here and let us conduct the search."

"No, ma'am...I won't." Sam responded.

"You stay BEHIND us, Sam. You got that?"

Sam managed a smile at the maternal tone in her voice. "Yes, ma'am."

The search was entering it's fourth hour. Sam was growing more desperate with each passing minute. They had entered many abandoned cabins and a few occupied ones. Their search was fruitless thus far. Sam's fear for Dean was eating at him. He could barely concentrate as he thought what was happening to Dean at this very moment. He tried to focus, trying to 'feel' her, but to no avail.

A male officer walked up to the next house on their path. They all were hopeful when they saw a light on. Perhaps the occupants had some information for them. He knocked on the door. He heard some faint noises inside. He knocked again. The noises increased and he heard a small crash. The officer reached for his gun. He turned around and motioned for some of the other officers to go to either side of the house. He knocked a third time. In a loud voice, he announced his presence. "POLICE. OPEN UP."

Sam was a few hundred feet away. He stood straighter as he saw the officer pull his gun.

"THIS IS THE POLICE. OPEN YOUR DOOR OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO KNOCK IT DOWN." He knocked for a fourth time.

Suddenly, everything was a blur. A man in dungarees peered out from the side of the house and shot an officer in the leg. As the wounded officer cried out, another man appeared as well. Carol and the others rushed each side of the house and for a few minutes, all Sam heard were gunshots. And as soon as the popping began, it stopped as abruptly. When Sam felt like the immediate danger had passed, he rushed to the front door. He heard Carol call his name out, trying to make him stay put until the house was truly secure, but he ignored her. He was singularly focused on finding Dean. He pushed his way through the front door that seemed to be barricaded by a chest of drawers. The dingy, foul smelling house was poorly lit. Sam had to wait a moment for his eyes to focus. He immediately began searching each room. He found nothing. He kept looking and finally came to a door that seemed to lead to a cellar. The door creaked open. Sam slowly made his way down the steep stairs. He shivered slightly as the temperature was significantly cooler in this area.

His eyes peered in each direction looking for any clues. He gasped as his eyes turned the corner. Bathed by a minimal amount of sunlight, the tiny, bruised, naked body of Dean lay quietly. "DEAN!" Sam shouted as he rushed to her side. She lay in a fetal position, wrists bound tightly with duct tape. She was in a pool of her own blood. Her grayish skin was marred with bruises. Sam knelt by her, almost afraid to go near her. His hand shakily touched her. "Dean?" Sam asked as tears poured from his eyes. She did not respond. He placed his hand near her mouth and was encouraged to feel the faintest whisper of her breath. Sam turned suddenly when he heard multiple footsteps coming down the stairs. Carol stood at the foot of the steps.

"Sam." She looked horrified at the state of Dean. "The ambulance is coming."

"I need a knife...someone...please!" He said in desperation as he turned back to Dean. He tried with his own hands to free her from her bindings, but to no avail. Someone handed him one, and he carefully cut away at the duct tape. Her small, delicate hands were white as it had nearly cut off her circulation. He quickly ripped his coat off and wrapped her and made to pick her up.

"Sam, don't move her. We don't know what kind of injuries she has."

Sam nodded absently as he tried to envelope her as best as he could. "Hold on, Dean...okay? Just hold on...I've got you...I'm here...Sammy's here..." He said over and over again as he stroked her cheek.

After what seemed to be an eternity, an ambulance crew arrived on the scene. They placed her carefully on a backboard and started securing a neck collar on her. An oxygen mask was placed to attempt to improve her color. They covered her in many blankets to try to prevent any further cooling of her body. They loaded her gently into the ambulance. As Sam stepped up with them, he was stopped by the paramedics.

"I want to go with her." He said strongly, his eyes never leaving Dean.

"I understand that, sir," the paramedic replied, "but she is very ill and there is a lot we can do for her on our way. We need room."

Sam reluctantly agreed and stood watching the unconscious Dean as they closed the door in his face. He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Follow us to the hospital, Sam." Carol said kindly as the ambulance pulled away, lights and sirens blazing.

When Sam arrived at the hospital, Dean had already been ushered to a room. The curtains were drawn and the glass doors were closed. He felt useless standing there, not able to help her. The guilt he felt over her injuries was nearly overwhelming. He sat with his head in his hands; a feeling of nausea consuming him.

Carol sat down next to Sam. She offered him a cup of coffee which Sam refused. After some time, he turned to her. "Where are they?" Carol knew what he was talking about.

"They drew guns and fired on officers of the law. We shot and killed three suspects."

"Were there any more?"

"We don't think so; but, we'll stake the place out for a bit."

Sam grabbed Carol's hand. "Thank you." He said quietly as his eyes welled up again.

"She'll be okay, Sam. She'll be okay." She squeezed tightly.

After nearly ninety minutes, a doctor exited Dean's room. Sam stood expectantly as he walked towards him. Sam met him half way. "How is she?" He asked in a rushed tone.

"I'm Doctor Parsons. Are you a relative?"

Sam nodded. "I'm her brother, Sam." A feeling of dread spread through him at the serious look on the doctor's face. "How is she?" he repeated in a more forceful tone.

"Sam. She is very ill. Our first concern was her breathing. There appears to have been some strangulation-type injury and that, coupled with severe hypothermia made me worried about her airway. So, we put a breathing tube down her so I could ensure that she is receiving an adequate amount of oxygen." He paused at the pained look in Sam's eyes. "We ran a Cat Scan of her head and and belly so see if we could find any internal injuries. She appears to have some blood around her liver and spleen."

Sam's mouth was so dry. He could barely talk. "What does that mean?"

"It means, she had some blunt trauma to that area. Luckily, there are no tears in those organs. Her blood pressure is slightly low due to the blood loss, but is responding nicely to intravenous fluids. It will need to be watched closely to see if any other intervention is needed."

"She didn't respond to me when I found her. What does that mean?"

"Your sister is very ill, Sam. I won't lie to you. Perhaps the strangulation trauma, blood loss, or the hypothermia has contributed to her coma state."

"Coma?" His eyes widened in fear.

The doctor reluctantly nodded his head. "She needs to rewarm and stabilize before making any predictions." He paused. "Because she is critically ill, we are going to transfer her to Los Angeles Memorial Hospital. They will be able to evaluate and manage all her injuries. We are focused on her life threatening injuries at this point. There are world renowned intensive care doctors that will take good care of her there. I have already contacted them."

This had to be a bad dream. Sam knew he was talking and having a conversation, but it all seemed surreal. "How will she get there?"

"'Life-Flight' Air medial service is sending a helicopter momentarily. They will fly her there."

"Can I go with her?"

"There is a minimal amount of room, Sam. Just enough for the pilot, two nurses, and your sister. She'll be in good hands." Sam felt weak in his knees. He reached out behind him and nearly collapsed into a chair. The doctor placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Do you know how to get to LA?" Sam nodded. "We have a map to give you exact directions to the hospital. Do you have any more questions right now?" Sam shook his head. The doctor was about to walk back to Dean's bedside; instead, he turned back around. "Is there any one else my staff can call for you?" He knew when family were this despondent, the support of other members and extended family was helpful.

"No. There isn't anyone else." Sam said softly.

Sam sat alone until he heard the whirl of a helicopter landing at the hospital. Two flight nurses entered Dean's room and shut the door. Sam wanted to yell and scream at them. He wanted to see her, but they would not give him a chance. After thirty minutes or so, a nurse came out from the room. She spoke kindly to Sam and told him that when they wheeled Dean out, he could say goodbye. Sam stared at Dean's room as the nurse tried to explain to him what he would see. He was barely listening to her. As the flight nurses opened the curtain and began pushing Dean towards the exit, Sam jumped up and ran to her side. All he could see were tubes in her mouth, her nose, and IV's in each arm. "Dean..." His voice choked as he touched her face, trying to be careful not to hurt her.

He only got a glimpse of her; she was soon ushered towards the helicopter. The pilot helped the nurses load their precious cargo, and soon the engine roared back to life. A security guard gently held Sam back as he tried to inch closer to the copter.

Sam stood silently, his overgrown hair swirling in the wake of the wind, and watched as the helicopter slowly took off. Sam continued to follow it as it disappeared in the distance.

He forced himself to walk to the Impala. He wasn't sure how he made it back to their hotel, but he did. He began the task of packing up their things. He finished his bag quickly and started on Dean's. As he folded her shirts, he stopped and held one to his face. It made him feel closer to her, even for a moment. He forced himself to focus. His vision was blurry with tears that threatened to fall.

He took one last look around the room. When he assured himself that he had everything, he grabbed their two bags and turned the main light off. He sighed and gazed down as he opened the door. He gasped when he raised his head. His bags dropped to the ground. He stood with his mouth open at the vision before him. "Dad?"

TBC...