A/N: Thanks again to everyone that's following and reviewing this story. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, it turned out to be a real pain in the butt to write and I'm a little worried about it, but hopefully it's not a complete dud.
Chapter 6
One Hour Later
Sam was a lot heavier than he looked. Despite how slim he appeared and how easily Dean's arms wrapped around his little brother's waist holding him up, supporting him as they made their way out of the forest was a backbreaking challenge even with his father assisting on the other side. Especially now that Sam held almost none of his own weight anymore making the going very slow.
On top of that, the rain refused to stop its endless, cold deluge and Sam to shivered uncontrollably while he made loud, clicking sounds as his teeth rattled together and chattered. Dean had given his coat to Sam before they set off, but it didn't seem to be helping much and he could feel every tremor that passed through him. He wanted to go faster, to get Sam to warmth and shelter as soon as possible, but the injuries he had sustained during his tangle with the wild cat made the going frustratingly slow.
Dean maintained his focus straight ahead, trying his best to avoid looking at the brutal wound on Sam's leg. Dad and Caleb had done their best to clean and dress the leg with only their meager supplies, but Dean had caught a glance at it before they had finished, leaving him feeling nauseous at the sight. What made it all the worse were the terrible screams Sam let out while they worked on making the leg secure enough for travel and they way he grabbed Dean's hand so tight that he could still feel the bruises he had left there.
There really hadn't been much Dean could have done to make his brother's pain go away, the best he could do was try to comfort him as best as he could and reassure him that their trek wouldn't last forever, but as they slowly fought their way back to the cabin, he didn't think his words were ringing so true anymore. It felt like forever to him, so how much more so did it to Sam?
"We're not too far now, Sammy." Dean heard his father grunt out beside him. He honestly had no idea how close they were to the cabin, but trusted his dad's words, giving him some hope that they would soon be safe and warm in the shelter. Walking Sam like this the eight miles back to their car would never be possible while he was in this state, but at least the cabin would give them some protection from the elements before help could arrive.
All they had to do was get there, which was easier said than done. Dean chanced a glance at Sam, who's face was obscured by his overly long bangs while his chin touched down to his chest, his head lolling from side to side as they continued onward. Despite being only half-lucid, Sam still managed to keep moving with him and his father. Every now and then he would whimper or moan, but he hardly spoke, which worried Dean to no end.
He just hoped to God that Caleb had been right about there being a ranger's station a few miles north of them. He had left for it at the same time he and his father helped Sam off the ground, hoping to find someone manning or at the very least a radio that could help them get his brother off the mountain and to the nearest hospital.
"Hey, Sammy...how ya doin'?" He asked, seeing Sam's eyes were closed while they walked.
"Uhhhnnn" Sam mumbled, opening his eyes slightly. "D-d-don' wan' p-pancakes."
"Pancakes? Dude, you really have no idea what you're saying, do you?" Dean replied with faked cheeriness all the while clamping hard down on the growing twist In his stomach.
Sam wasn't making much sense anymore whenever he checked on him. Sometimes he would respond clearly and then there were the times like these where he was so out of it that he said the most random things, but at least he was still awake enough to make some kind of sign that he was still with them, which was good enough for now, in Dean's opinion. Hopefully, he'd come back around once they got him wrapped in some blankets to warm him up and they could treat his injuries better.
"There it is." Dad announced, his voice betraying his own weariness, but his relief at seeing the welcome sight of the cabin was one that Dean shared with him.
Even though they had come within eye-shot of the shelter, it was then that Sam decided that then was a good time to go completely limp in their arms.
"Sam? Sam...c'mon, buddy. Not yet...you can rest when we get inside." Dad stopped their forward momentum, while Dean took to tapping Sam on the face, hoping to wake him up enough so that they wouldn't have to carry him completely the rest of the way.
"Open you eyes now, Sam!" Their father ordered and that seemed to have some effect on the youngest as a moan issued from deep within Sam's throat.
"C'mon, Sammy...that it. Just a bit further." He cajoled him softer this time and Dean felt some of the weight lift off his shoulder as Sam took a step forward with his good leg and he grinned, feeling a swell of pride in his brother's stubborn tenacity.
They continued on, step after step until mercifully, they were at the door to the cabin and Dad was swinging the door wide open. It was a mess inside the small shack with blood on the walls, furniture over turned and debris strewn about from the havoc Caleb and Dean had unleashed on the werewolves living there. But on top of that, there was the all-pervasive smell of body odor. Obviously the previous tenants of the place didn't believe in bathing or personal hygiene.
"Wow...these guys lived like animals." Dean muttered, helping his father haul Sam towards a cot on the other side of the room, trying to mask his feelings of unease with a little humor. It didn't help much, only earned him a sharp look from his father and he immediately shut up and concentrated on getting Sam on the bed as gently as he could.
Dad let go and allowed Dean to finish sitting Sam down on the cot and guiding him with an arm around his back to lay down. The harder part came next as Dean picked up Sam's good leg and lifted it onto the bed. He hesitated before touching the injured one, knowing that moving it would cause his brother more pain, but it had to be done.
Sam's eyes snapped open as soon as Dean picked up the foot of his wounded leg and he let out a heart-wrenching whimper and clenched his teeth tight, but didn't cry out.
"I'm sorry, Sam" He apologized for the forced movement, but was as gentle as he be getting the leg on the bed. Once finished with the agonizing task, Dean started unbuttoning and stripping Sam of his wet clothes while violent tremors and shivers took over his body. In the mean time, his father found a kerosene lamp and lit it, filling the room with a dull, orange glow. Grim faced, he joined Dean in helping take off his brother's clothes, finding a pair of scissors in their first aid kit in order to cut away his jeans without hurting him any further.
Dean quickly went about the cabin, finding as many blankets as he could and gathered them in his hands, bringing them back to the cot where his father had Sam stripped down to his underwear. Wordlessly, He took the blankets from Dean and began piling them onto his shivering son.
"We need to get a fire going." His dad spoke up and stood, heading for the back door. "I'm gonna get some wood. Stay here with him."
Dean nodded while he tucked Sam deeper into the blankets. There wasn't much else they could do now except wait and hope Caleb could find some help.
Sam looked up, a hand pulling the top blanket up to his chin, his eyes closing sleepily. Dean was afraid of letting Sam drift off, not wanting him to lose consciousness to the point where he couldn't wake him up again.
"Hey, dude...stay awake for now, okay? Just until some help arrives, then you can sleep."
"M'tired."
"I know ya are, Bro. Just try to stay with me here, will ya? Talk me..."
"Bout w-what?"
"I dunno, anything...What about that girl? Rachel, right? She was pretty hot, huh?"
A ghost of a grin passed over Sam's face, his eyes opening further, but with a sheen of glassiness to them. "Sh-she's nice...Sh-she helped me..."
"Helped you with what?" Dean prodded, trying to keep Sam engaged in the conversation.
"T-test..." Sam simply answered, confusing Dean.
"Test? Since when did you need help with tests, Sam?"
"You d-don't understand...I was t-ten dollars short day of the t-test...she loaned it to me." Now Dean was even more confounded.
"Why would you need to pay for a test? Unless of course you were paying someone to take it for you. But, that sounds more like something I would do and not you, nerd-boy."
"It was the SAT." Sam mumbled back and at first, Dean wasn't sure he was hearing him right.
"SAT?" Dean suddenly had a sinking feeling creeping up in his chest. "Why would you be taking that?...That test is for college, Sam." He gulped when the whole picture came together for him and hit him square between the eyes. "Whoa...whoa...wait a sec here...are you telling me you want to go to college? Are serious? Why didn't you tell me?"
Sam's eyes flicked open wide as though he was just as surprised as Dean for letting his secret out.
"Was gonna...B-but...I didn't know how." Sam choked out, his chattering teeth settling down somewhat and his voice gaining some strength now that he was warming up. However the lines and creases in his face gave away the fact that he was still in a terrible amount of pain, even if it all wasn't physical.
"We could have at least talked about it...I would have listened."
"Would you? Would Dad?" Dean couldn't answer that, he knew full well what their dad would say and God only knew how much he himself wanted his family to stay intact.
"I g-got in though, Dean...got a full ride to Stanford." Sam let out a short, weary and humorless laugh. "But, I guess it doesn't matter now anyway...N-never gonna go...gonna die in this smelly cabin."
"Sam...say that one more time and you will die because I will kill you." Dean shot back. "You're not gonna die in here. We're gonna get you patched up and when you're all better we can talk about this whole school thing, got it?"
"Y-you don't mean it...you don't want me to go, do you?"
"It's never really mattered what I want, man. But I promise..." Dean swallowed, ready to say almost anything right then if it meant Sam wouldn't give up, even if it meant tearing his own heart out of his chest.. "You get better and I'll talk to dad...if you still really want to go..." Unless Dean could convince him to stay somehow, he thought.
Sam slowly blinked, his eyes reddening. "You'd do that?"
"I don't make promises I can't keep, Sammy. You know that."
Sam allowed a tear to slip out and nodded, closing his eyes. "Just don't tell dad yet...I have to do it."
"Tell me what?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere until the dark silhouette of their father entered the room carrying a load of wood and eyeing his sons suspiciously, knowing intuitively that Sam had been asking Dean to keep something from him. Dean hated lying to his father, but letting Sam down would be worse.
"Nothing, Sir." Dean replied a little too quickly, but covered his ass with just as much speed. "Sammy's just talking gibberish again. He's still kinda out of it, ya know?"
Dad didn't appear to believe it for a second, but he didn't press the issue, instead he walked over to the fireplace and dropped the wood into it, gathering up some kindling and lighting a fire.
Dean turned from his father while he stoked the fire and looked back down at Sam, the appreciation in his eyes almost as warming as the fire that started burning brighter and brighter across the room.
3 hours later
Caleb thanked the Army Rangers for his land navigation training all those years ago for without it, he might not have been able to find his way through the dark and rain drenched forest and to the door of the tiny outpost. Covering treacherous ground at night was never easy, but unlike the times he spent trying to make his way through the wilderness while he was in the Army, he at least had a flashlight this time, had been through this forest several times before and knew the general direction in which he needed to be heading. That being said, it was still no simple task leaving John, Dean and Sam behind when the youngest was so badly hurt and the way was agonizingly slow as hills and dense brush prevented him from going at full-pelt towards the ranger station.
He doubted it would be manned, at least not at this time of year. Small outposts like these were usually only occupied during fire season and when he finally reached the tiny cabin that served as the station, he wasn't surprised to find it empty.
The good thing about these places however, was even if they were deserted, they usually still had a radio with which to call for help and that was his only focus as he swiftly picked the padlock on the door and burst in. Glancing about, he searched the small building. It was mostly empty save for a green, fabric cot and a knotty pine roll-top desk which he went straight towards. Thankfully, it wasn't locked and the top rolled up easily for him. Inside the desk, he found the radio sitting in the middle of the table and inside his chest, Caleb felt a great weight lift.
Wasting little time, flicked on the power button, pleased beyond measure to see the thing come to life and to hear static come through the speaker. Grabbing the handset, Caleb scanned the channels, sending out a distress call to anyone that might be listening.
For way too long, all he heard was static coming back at him, but he refused to give up. The radio was his only hope of getting help quickly for Sam.
He switched the radio over to the next frequency and repeated his plea for help. He wasn't expecting a reply to come right away, but when a matter-of-fact voice suddenly came over the other end, he couldn't help but nearly laugh in relief.
"This is Montana State Police Dispatch responding to your distress call, please state your emergency, Sir."
OOOOOOOOOO
"Sam...Sammy? Open your eyes, kiddo."
Sam groaned when John placed his hand on his clammy forehead. Heat came off of him in waves and from touch alone, he knew the fever wracking his son was sky-high and his stubborn as ever boy remained as he was with his eyes shut. He never was one to do as he was told without question and even now in his precarious state he had to struggle to get him to obey.
Dean came in closer and eyed John worriedly. He wished he could offer him some reassurance that Sam was going to be alright, but he wasn't going to lie; John had checked the large wound on his leg and knew gangrene when he saw it. Swollen, angry, red skin with weeping yellow and green pus was something he'd seen before in combat and he knew from experience that the infection that had settled within him was stronger than anything they had on them to combat it. Given how rapidly it had developed and spread, he was well aware of the consequences letting it go untreated was, but all he could do was hope help would come in time; he was powerless to do much else.
"C'mon, Sam...I need you to drink something." John moved his hand from Sam's forehead to the back of his neck and encouraged him to rise enough for him to place the canteen full of water up to his lips so he could drink. Sam offered little resistance and opened his mouth fractionally, allowing John to pour some inside. The hard part was getting Sam to swallow without choking or spitting up the water again like he had already several times before.
Thankfully, this time he kept the water down with little mess and John was causiously pleased, but still had to push down that little voice in his head that said that his son was in dire straights; he wouldn't allow himself to go there, he couldn't. He had to focus on keeping him hydrated for now.
"There you go, Son...just a little bit more..." He tried again ply more water into him.
Sam shook his head. "N-no...m'kes me s-sick." He croaked out weakly.
"Sam...c'mon, man..." Dean spoke up to encourage his brother. "It's just water, you puke it up and it's not a big deal, alright?"
Somehow Dean always had the right words to make Sam comply. He opened his eyes to mere slits, eying his brother and took another sip from the canteen. John had to admit at times to a small bit of jealousy whenever he saw the bond his kids had between each other in action, but if it helped keep Sam alive, he would never begrudge it, even if it made him feel like an outsider looking in on his own family.
John wasn't oblivious to the fact that Sam and Dean were so close because of his own failings as a parent. He had never been prepared to raise the boys on his own and though he believed he was doing the right thing by hunting down every single supernatural sonofabitch out there, he always had this underlying guilt for leaving his kids on their own so much, for not letting them live a normal life and for piling so much responsibility on Dean's shoulders. But, in the long run he was proud of them, of how they took care of each other and one day when he was gone, when his dangerous job finally took him out, he was confident that they'd be able to handle anything that came their way without him and that knowledge alone trampled over any regrets he had in bringing them up.
However, those guilty feelings were coming back with a vengeance now as he watched Sam struggle to just keep down the small sips of water he was now taking. Sure, it wasn't his fault that a mountain lion had attacked him, but it was his actions and his words that drove Sam away in the first place. John had been hard on him, but he just didn't know of any other way to prepare him for the dangerous life they led.
He wouldn't kid himself into thinking that something like this wouldn't happen again. Sam always seemed to have one foot out the door, ready to bolt from their life and from his under control, but he knew he had to find a way to stamp that out before he ended up hurt again.
In his mind, he made a pact with himself that when his son made it through this...and he would make it through this... then he'd tighten the reigns on him, keep him close, even if he chafed against it. This whole situation only drove home to him that Sam out in the world on his own would only end up with something like this occurring again and he wouldn't let that happen; not while he could still help it. His youngest wouldn't be leaving his line of sight any time soon.
John helped Sam lay back against the pillow after he started coughing up more of the water than he was drinking and took a second to smooth back his sweat-matted bangs that were covering his face. Sam's pained features smoothed somewhat under his gentle ministrations and John realized then that it had been far too long since the last time he had touched his son with such affection and that sent another stab of regret into his heart.
"Hey, Dad? You hear that?" Dean asked then suddenly stood up and ran to a window. The first few beams of morning light were just beginning to peak out from behind the dissipating rain clouds, giving off a pink and orange glow that flooded the cabin when he pulled back the dirty curtain and looked up at the sky.
John stood still and tried to pick up on what Dean was hearing. It took a moment for his ears to finally catch up with his son's, but when it did he felt a heavy burden lift from his shoulders. It was a welcome sound, the sound of hope; of helicopter blades cutting through air and coming closer.
To Be Continued...
