Close Encounter of the Hunted Kind - Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Erik Kripke's world of the Supernatural
Dean was exhausted; he needed caffeine. The head night shift nurse didn't like him. She'd taken exception to his insistance of staying with his brother. He couldn't count on a nurse to help him. He'd slip out for a bit and find a cup. He'd only take a moment. "Sam. I'll be back in a minute; I need to get something to drink."
Sam was sleepy. He kept dozing trying to get the drugs out of his system. He'd told the doctor to cut back on the dosage of morphine. He was afraid to be unconscious but he couldn't pinpoint what was making him so nervous. Pain radiated along his left side, but he hated feeling woozy. Dean wasn't talking much and since they still didn't know who had fired upon them, Sam wanted to be as alert as possible. Of course, alertness was hard to come by. He kept thinking he was closing his eyes for a moment and waking up to see that the shadows had shifted on the wall. Now that it was night, he had no way to track time. It would have been extremely frustrating if it didn't feel so distant. "Sure, Dean, I'm not going anywhere." He shifted in the bed and a stab of pain shot through him intense enough to bring tears to his eyes.
Jonas had been waiting a long time for this. The older Winchester was finally leaving his brother alone. He slipped in through the door of the hospital room. Sam's eyes glittered from the sunlight slanting across his pillow. Jonas saw what he wanted to see. Just as Gordon had said, Sam was connected to a demon. "How are you doing today?"
Sam relaxed a trifle. The man was wearing scrubs and had an ID; it escaped his mind how easily obtained things like that were. He should know. Closing his eyes briefly in anticipation of pain, he took a tentative breath before answering. When a hand covered his mouth, Sam's eyes flew open with shock. The gaze that met his was implacable. "I'm sorry I missed. It was supposed to be as painless as possible. You had to move." Jonas noticed the boy's eyebrows drawn downwards in confusion. Good actor. "Gordon told some of us about you. He may be out of circulation but there are others who think like he does. Guess you didn't count on that."
Sam tried to shake his head in denial. If he could keep this guy talking, Dean would return and he could take care of this guy. Sam attempted to lift his body off the bed; the man shoved him back down. Sam struggled but almost blacked out when the man dug his fingers into Sam's back right where the bullet had penetrated. White lightening sheeted across his vision. He dimly heard the voice continue.
"It's hard to believe that John Winchester's son could be connected with a demon. What did you do? Make a pact with it while you were away at college?" Jonas' thumb pinched the boy's nose shut as well. Sam struggled under his hands but the struggles became weaker; the hands pulling at his arms loosened their grip before finally falling away. Sam didn't blink. Jonas lifted his hand and a final breath was expelled from the boy's lungs. He waited to make sure his job was done.
ooooOOOOoooo
Dean had succeeded in his quest for coffee. That cheerful little redhead had wanted to talk to him some more since Nurse Ratchet was in another wing, but he wanted to get back to Sam. Pushing the room's door open, Dean noticed a nurse standing at his brother's bed. His eyes narrowed, rounds weren't for another hour yet in this hall. Looking at Sam, Dean noticed his eyes were only partially open but they didn't move or blink. The man stepped back. Dean saw blood on his right hand as the left picked up a gun that was lying on the bed. Jonas was fast. Dean was faster. His gun still smoking, Dean leapt towards Sam's bed. He wasn't breathing. "Come on, Sammy, breathe for me." Jostling Sam didn't work so Dean began administering CPR. Not now. Not when Sam was getting better. Dean's guilt for leaving his brother's side consumed him. Only focusing on resuscitating Sam stopped his thoughts from yammering and deafening him.
A nurse, drawn by the gunfire eased open the door. "What's going on?" she quavered.
"Sam's not breathing. That guy did something." Dean paused only long enough to spit out the words.
"Code blue" the nurse yelled over her shoulder before joining Dean at his brother's bedside. Another nurse nudged him over and Dean reluctantly relinquished his spot next to Sam. He stumbled over against the wall and watched and pleaded silently. His intensity was finally rewarded.
Sam blinked his eyes and began to cough. "What? Dean?" His voice was barely above a whisper. The oxygen mask covering his mouth muffled sound.
"I'm right here, Sammy." Dean stepped forward, ignoring the nurses, to clasp his brother's shoulder.
"Guy. . .Gordon's friend. . .said. . .I'm. . "
"Relax, Sammy. He won't be coming after you again." The finality in Dean's voice told Sam exactly what had happened. He closed his eyes. He hated the thought of Dean killing someone. Dean had once been amazed at what he would do for Sam. Not anymore.
Sam nodded before a spate of coughing took all his attention. Knives of fire lanced through his back, and he could no longer draw a full breath. Sam coughed again as spittle laced with blood dribbled down his chin. The doctor motioned for a nurse to assist in lifting his patient; the blood on the bandage told him the wound was open again. "Let's get him back down to surgery."
Before either Winchester realized it, Sam was whisked down the hall. Dean tried to follow but was stopped by a security guard who had followed the crash cart into the room. Gunfire had been reported. "You want to remove that hand before I remove it," he growled. He needed to follow his brother, make sure no one else tried to hurt him.
"Look, son, your brother is going to be in surgery so whether you wait here or down in reception will not speed things up." He watched the man to see if his words would have any effect. The floor nurses had reported how concerned he was about his younger sibling. "What the hell happened? Who is this guy? Your brother said the name Gordon. Is. . . was this Gordon?" He looked down at the body admiring the perfectly placed heart shot. The man had good aim.
"I don't know his name." Dean knew he had to tell something, so he told what he had seen from the moment he opened his brother's hospital room door and then, "We had a run-in in a while back with a Gordon character. I pissed him off but we left and thought that was the end of it. Apparently not."
"Do you know where this Gordon is now?"
Displaying his best poker face, Dean denied any knowledge of the whereabouts of Gordon Walker. He would be cooling his heels in jail for a long time.
"Well, if you can tell us anything else, let us know. Why don't you head on down since this room is now a crime scene. I'm sure they'll put your brother in another room when he's out of surgery." Dean brushed past the security guard, giving a nod to show that he'd heard. Time to wait again. Time to berate himself again. Watch out for Sammy. He hadn't, and now Sam was hurt again. Dean ignored the redheaded nurse's question about his brother, ignored her hand on his arm, ignored everything but how much he'd failed Sam.
ooooOOOOoooo
Once again, Sam was in a room after recovering from surgery. There was no way Dean would leave his side until Sam was discharged from the hospital. Dean looked down at Sam's wan face. His hands shook as he took out his cell phone and dialed Harvell's Roadhouse.
"Harvell's"
"It's Dean Winchester. I need a favor," he said with no more preamble.
"What is it?"
"I need you to tell anyone who Gordon considered a friend to stay the hell away from me and Sam."
"What happened now?" Ellen was startled by Dean's voice. It was shaking. As he continued to speak, she realized it was with rage and not fear.
"Someone shot Sam." Dean ignored Ellen's shocked exclamation. "He musta been a bad shot because he didn't kill him. I got him to the hospital and he was recovering until…"
"What, Dean? What happened?!" Ellen felt her heart plummet. Those boys were good boys. She'd learn to respect their skills and liked them.
"I left to get coffee. When I came back, this guy was standing over Sam. Sam. . .his eyes. . ." Dean's voice shook. "That guy smothered him. He pulled a gun on me and I shot him. The doctors were able to resuscitate Sam and then they had to take him back to surgery. That bastard had dug his fingers into Sam's back where he'd shot him." Dean pounded the wall next to him with his fist. It had been close. Sam's unblinking gaze haunted him. Would continue to haunt him for a long time. "Just get the word out. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt Sam. Anyone! I don't care if they're a hunter or something evil; they will go down."
"All right, Dean. I'll pass it on but how do you know Gordon was involved?" Ellen hoped it wasn't so but she had little faith in the matter.
"Sam spoke before they took him to surgery. He said Gordon's name so I assume he had some part in all this."
"He told that guy. . .about me." Sam's voiced croaked from the bed.
"Gotta go. He's awake."
"Tell. . ." The dial tone was her only answer. Ellen would wait to call and find out more information later. For now, she let the boys be.
Dean strode over to Sam's bed. "How long have you been awake?"
"A bit. You killed that guy?"
"He had just killed you Sam! He drew on me. I wasn't going to see if he could be reasoned with."
One more death chalked up to him. Sam was so tired of it all. Sam's gaze blurred. His mouth quirked in a mirthless grin. Dean could no longer deny that all the death surrounding Sam was not his fault. Guilty at causing his brother more pain, Sam closed his eyes in hopes of finding oblivion. He succeeded. Dean settled in to watch his brother sleep. The sounds of the monitors were his only companions.
A/N: Thanks for reading the story this far. Hope you are enjoying it.