A/N: Thanks to my betas and absolutely wonderful friends, Darksupernatural, Merisha, and Soncnica! You guys rock and I still love ya! :) This still would not have happen without you three! And special thanks to SiFiRN for her amazing insight and help on this one! *hugs* :)
A/N: And I love to thank each and every one of ya for the amazing responses the first chapter had gotten! I'm truly astounded by the remarkable feedback, and so I hope this chapter won't disappoint! :)
Disclaimers: don't own 'em
Chapter 2
Sam shivered, not realizing how cold he was when he came to…and not realizing how much he was in pain until his shivering jolted achy parts in his abused body. Slowly opening his eyes to slits and moving his head in order to gather his whereabouts had quickly caused him to shut his eyes as he let out a gasp of pain. Might be a good idea to move slower, he thought numbly as he breathed through it.
Once the excruciating spikes in his head receded to a dull throb, he decided to do a mental checkup of himself. Legs and toes…check. Arms and fingers…check. Okay, so no spinal injury. Ribs…maybe two cracked ones…ow! No three, definitely three cracked ones. After stifling a groan, he then chunked every bruise and sore spot as something that a good R&R could fix. I'm so making Dean take a week off. R&R…
Huh, now why does that sound familiar? Sam thought hazily. With a jolt of panic bringing him to painful alertness, Sam yelled, "Dean!" But his achy body and his tsunami-sized headache protested loudly when he moved too quickly and caused him to yelp in pain. As he dropped his head back on the ground, he closed his eyes and rode out the pain that shot up in his already tortured head.
Breathing and swallowing harshly to repress the bile crawling up his esophagus and keeping the black spots from making a reappearance, he gradually opened his eyes and steadily sat up, using the tree to support himself. Seeing the blood coating the snow, he absently touched the back of his head and winced when felt the gash. Swinging his blood-covered hand in front of him, he groaned inwardly and hoped it didn't need stitching.
Once he was sure he wasn't going to pass out, he started getting to his feet, bit by slow bit. He swayed a little and tiny black dots swarmed in his vision before disappearing.
"Dean?" Sam called softly as he looked around him, hoping to see his brother at the base of a tree like he had found himself. Dean's fine, Dean's always fine. He's always alright, he says so himself. Sam repeated over and over in his mind when his search came up empty.
Catching a small glint of something black sticking out in the snow, Sam wasted no time as he stumbled a few times to reach the forgotten flashlight.
"Dean?" Sam called loudly as he swung the light frantically around. He almost missed the tiny object that the light reflected upon it in his frantic search for his older brother.
Recognizing it for what it was, Sam quickly dashed for it and picked it up, vaguely wondering why it was coated in a glossy pale blue, but no longer caring when his eyes darted to the black abyss on the other side of the mountain.
No, no, no, no, no! Sam's mind kept repeating as panic almost engulfed him, bringing him down to his knees and making it harder to breathe. Tears clouded his vision and black spots made their appearance as he breathed out in harsh gasps. But no, he wouldn't quit now. Not when his brother needed him the most.
Reaffirming his grasp on the flashlight and shaking himself mentally, he steadied his shaky hands before forcefully dragging himself to perch atop the cliff and cautiously looked down.
"DEAN!" Sam yelled as he directed the light to and fro.
"DEAN!" Sam yelled again, hoping against hope that his brother was not down there.
Leaning farther out on the cliff and shining the light further down, he was just about to call out his brother's name when a breath caught in his throat. Twelve feet down and a few inches to the left showed Dean lying deathly still.
"DEAN! Hold on, I'm coming!" Sam called, and not wasting any more time as adrenaline fueled his energy, he scrambled back up. Noticing a rocky incline leading down to the side of the mountain on his right, he sent a silent prayer for help before making his careful hike to his brother.
Slipping and sliding on loose rock and snow, Sam barely maintained his balance as he raced to his brother's side. Several cuss words uttered under his breath as his hands and knees came out cut up and bloodied, but all that didn't matter now when he saw what lay before him in the soft glow of the light.
Time seemed to stop for Sam Winchester when he saw the broken, bloody body of his older brother. Moisture misted his own blue green eyes, making it almost impossible to see the blood-spattered mess, the entangled limbs, and the ashen pallor of his brother's face. Oh Dean, no, no, no, his mind kept saying over and over as he sat back on his haunches and his bottom lip quivered.
"Don't think like that, Sam!" he ground out through clenched teeth and with new resolved, he put his trembling fingers on Dean's throat, expecting the end. His heart skipped a beat and he almost laughed out loud when he felt a faint pulse beneath his fingers. Sam quickly placed his hand in front of Dean's mouth to check his breathing, and soon felt dizzy with relief to find his brother alive.
Dean was sprawled on his stomach, face slightly turned towards Sam, on a snow covered rock ledge that jutted out right beneath where he fell, which amazingly stopped any further progress downward that would no doubt have cost him his life. Sam could see that Dean's left arm was pinned beneath him between the unforgiving cold floor and his own body weight. Any inkling that it might be broken was left unsolved as Sam began assessing the older hunter's injuries.
Holding the flashlight in his right, Sam's left hand gently felt around his brother's scalp for any other injuries other than the one that the blood was leaking from, doing his best to not move the head for fear of causing neck injury. After that, Sam moved onto feeling around his brother's neck and spine, and sighed gratefully when he didn't find anything amiss. Once that task was done, he began feeling around his brother's ribs, finding four of them broken.
As Sam felt the left side of Dean's ribs, his hand contacted with something sticky, warm, and wet. Alarm bells sounded off in his mind, but as he jerked his hand away, he brushed against something solid. Maneuvering around his brother, Sam caught sight of something that made him lightheaded and shoot forward to the side to expel his breakfast and lunch. Eyes closed tightly and breathing deeply through his nose to keep the nausea and dizziness at bay, Sam forced his eyes to open and look at the tree branch that had embedded itself in his brother's side, right below the ribs. "Shit Dean, what else could go wrong?" Sam voiced out loud to no one in particular.
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to do anything until his brother was awake, Sam moved back to Dean and continued on with his assessment, finding just one broken left leg.
"Dean?" Sam slightly shook his brother, "Time to wake up bro."
When that didn't work, Sam resorted to slapping Dean's cheek lightly, "Dean, wake up. Open your eyes. I need you with me bro. C'mon man, don't do this." I need to see that cocky attitude and that arrogant smirk of yours telling me to stop being such a girl, was what Sam wanted to say.
The shaking became rougher and the slaps to the cheek became harder as Sam's desperation became more apparent, "Dean, open those damn eyes of yours now! I need you man," his voice cracked, "I can't do this without you. Please Dean, for me."
As if by some miracle or just sheer Winchester luck, Sam's desperate pleas were finally heard through the wonderful, blissful fog and Dean's eyes opened to mere slits, glassy green orbs swiftly landing on his baby brother, "Ssmmy? 'Ky?" he barely rasped out.
Smiling thankfully, Sam said, "Yeah Dean, I'm okay," then concernedly, "but it's you I'm worried about."
Dean huffed out an almost inaudible "I'm fine", a small semblance of his old self, before turning equally concerning eyes on his brother's long, brown, shaggy hair, matted in crimson, "Blood?"
Sam smiled tightly at him, "It's nothing Dean. Seriously, I'm fine."
The look of pure relief that etched Dean's face just about broke Sam's heart, but the look on Dean's face when he was about to drift off to unconsciousness made Sam rapidly say, "Listen Dean, do you think you can turn your head to the left, facing away from me? I need to turn you over."
Dean blinked several times as he registered what was being asked of him and gave Sam the smallest of nods. Slowly pulling his right arm toward himself and using it as leverage, Dean put all his remaining strength on that arm before a strangled cry erupted viciously and rendered him unconscious.
"Dean?!" Sam started slapping and shaking his brother again.
Dean managed to stifle a moan of pain when he came to minutes later. Suddenly every nerve in his body throbbed unmercifully. Why the hell wasn't I aware of it earlier? Dean groaned, unsuccessfully stifling that one as his body started shaking.
"Dean? Thank God! Here, let me help turn your head to the left," Sam said, extremely guilty for failing to check his brother's broken right arm.
Dean didn't have the strength to answer, or nod, or do anything as sharp needles were ruthlessly stabbing his every cell, but he hoped his unspoken permission was conveyed in his eyes.
Sam nodded his understanding and placed his huge hands on Dean's head, but hesitated for just a moment and wondered if it was bad idea seeing as how Dean's right arm was broken. But at Dean's questioning gaze, Sam quickly and carefully turned his sibling's head to face the other way.
Both Winchesters took a sharp intake of breath for different reasons. For Sam, it was because he didn't expect his brother's head wound to be as bad as the other wounds. Blood coated the massive gash and the entire left side of Dean's face all the way down his chin, and long, ugly abrasions decorated his cheek.
Dean's sharp intake of breath was due to seeing so much blood, so much of his blood. Huh, well at least now I know why it took me a little longer to feel the aches and pains, Dean thought grimly, knowing that hypothermia and shock never went well hand in hand. Shit, I'm cold.
"Um, okay so uh…don't move, okay? I'll…I'll turn you over, but don't move, understand? It's gonna hurt like hell though."
Dean gave Sam a 'Duh!' look, making Sam smile softly. Sam positioned his right arm on Dean's back and braced the fallen hunter's broken limb with his hand, while the other was placed right under his chest. He silently counted to three before swiftly and carefully turning his brother on his back, mindful of the tree branch and the busted leg.
Dean couldn't hold back a scream as he was turned over, and he fought the ongoing dizziness that was misting his exhausted mind. If he felt like crap before the sudden movement, Dean was sure he felt like shit now as every nerve ending in his body was wracked with the agony burning through him. An abrupt ripping sound coming from his brother made Dean turn his pain-glazed eyes on Sam.
Sam didn't waste another minute as he took off his heavy jacket, sweaters and shirts. Pulling the sweaters and jacket back on, he started ripping his shirts to use as makeshift bandages for his brother's wounds. Wadding up some of the cloths, Sam placed them gently but firmly around the branch to stop the bleeding, knowing full well that Dean would surely bleed out and die if he removed the branch. Using one long piece of cloth, he then wrapped it around Dean's midsection to keep the wadded cloths in place. He seriously hoped the branch didn't hit anything vital, but knowing their how their luck runs, he couldn't rule out the possibility.
Going off a short distance, Sam picked up some chunks of wood and hoped they were sturdy enough to use as splints. Returning back to his brother, Sam placed the woods on either side of Dean's left leg and tied them together with the cloths. Using the rest of the cloths, Sam used them for the head wound and a sling for Dean's arm. Thankfully, his brother's other arm wasn't busted up when he inspected it, just awfully bruised.
Sam shivered once he was done. Looking around, he finally took notice of the strong wintry winds violently whipping themselves around them and the increase drop in temperature. As the adrenaline wore off, he became more and more aware of their current predicament. Shit! The snowstorm! Sam thought, panic gripping him and shooting him to action.
"Dean? Hey, Dean?" Sam asked anxiously, looking over at his brother and grimaced when he finally noticed the dark bruises forming on his brother's neck.
Dean didn't move or say anything. Fear gripped the younger man's heart as he frantically searched for any signs of life, all the while cursing himself for not checking on Dean sooner when he no longer heard the wounded man's grunts and groans while he was patching him up. He looked worse than the first time Sam found him as the freckles around his nose became more pronounced and dark circles edged under his eyes.
Checking his brother's pulse, Sam winced a little when he found it a little too fast for his liking, and hearing the short, quick, shallow gasps coming from his brother almost sent him reeling with worry. He hated seeing his older brother hurt. His indestructible brother. The one who practically raised him when their father couldn't. The one he always looked up to, and still did.
"Dean? C'mon man, time to go," Sam said, rousing him.
The older hunter stirred a bit before biting back a yelp as he came to. He breathed shallowly as violent shivers unexpectedly assaulting his weakened body, making him vent out profanities so strong that Sam couldn't help but cringe at a couple of them.
"Listen Dean, we're gonna have to get out of here and find shelter; the storm's getting worse," Sam said as he placed his hand on the base of his brother's neck, feeling the coronary artery as he sought reassurance that his brother's heart was still beating. He frowned when he felt his brother's cold and clammy skin shaking uncontrollably, no doubt due to the cold and shock. His frown deepened worriedly when he felt the artery begin to flutter underneath his fingertips.
Swallowing a thick lump in his throat that tasted horribly like blood, Dean nodded his understanding and mumbled, "Help me up."
"What? Dean, you're hurt. You have a tree branch sticking out of you, broken ribs, and there is no way you can walk on that leg," Sam protested.
"Then what now, Einstein?" Dean argued back tiredly. In the back of his mind he knew something was wrong when he felt a sense of increasing pressure on his lungs, as his breathing became more difficult.
Sam's panic increased ten-fold as he heard the laborious breaths, but kept his fear at bay for the sake of his brother, "I'll carry you."
"Uh uh, no way –"
"Dean! We don't have time to argue!"
"I can walk –" the rest of the sentence was cut off short as Dean started coughing and making choking sounds deep in his throat.
Sam quickly turned his brother to the side while Dean coughed up…blood? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Sam's mind screamed.
Once he made sure Dean was alright, Sam said authoritatively, "I'm gonna carry you and that's that!"
Seeing his brother weakly submitting unnerved Sam greatly, but he pushed it aside as he prepared the long trek up the mountain. Gathering Dean up in his arms, Sam slowly made the hike back up, all the while listening to Dean's tortured breaths. His own muscles ached and the throbbing in his head increased with each step he took, but he managed to shove it all aside for his big brother's need.
Sam exhaled gratefully once they reached to the top, but his relief was short lived when the thing made a comeback. For the second time that night, he felt himself flying through the air and crashing into a tree, falling into nothingness.
Dean gave a surprised yelp as he felt himself falling, but the sudden pressure on his throat told him that the creature managed to grab him before he fell. Suspended in the air and gasping for breath once more, Dean tried futilely to claw its bony hand away from his abused throat. As black spots danced before him once more as his lungs were denied oxygen, he only dimly felt the sharp, excruciating pain flare in his back, but he did hear something snap loudly as his back was slammed against a tree.
Softly choking and chest burning like mad once more, he felt the life slowly ebbing from him as the fight left him; Dean Winchester knew that this was the end. Just as his eyes started to roll in the back of his mind, he faintly heard his baby brother's anguish cry of denial. It's alright, Sam, everything's gonna be alright, was Dean's last thought before letting the darkness claim him.
"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM YOU SONOFABITCH!!!" Sam yelled, and fired one of their discarded shotguns.
The creature let out another ethereal scream as a silver bullet penetrated its back and hit its weak spot. Dropping the young man, the creature fled out into the night.
Sam's heart leapt to his throat at the sight of his brother's motionless form. The horrific sight that met his eyes after he was jerked awake by the awful snapping sound gripped his heart so tightly that for a second he felt he couldn't breathe, but one look at his brother's blue-tinged lips made him move. Frantically looking around, he spotted the guns and his pack that he had no idea he had lost. Without a moment's thought, he scrambled for the gun and quickly aimed it at the thing; heart stopping briefly at Dean's closed eyes. If they ever get out of this, Sam was sure he's gonna have nightmares of this to last him a lifetime.
Crawling on hands and knees because he wasn't sure if his legs would hold him, he swiftly made his way to his fallen brother.
"Oh thank God," he whispered when he found his brother breathing, albeit weakly, "Okay man, I'll get us out of here." Retrieving the guns and his pack, Sam gathered his brother up again, and began walking on unsteady legs.
Minutes seemed endless as he carried Dean, both shivering violently from the cold, bitter winds. Sam was about to lose all hope until he spotted something through his fuzzy mind. A cave. Shelter.
Hurriedly staggering to the mouth of the cave located near the base of the mountain, he gently laid Dean on the ground before going out into the storm to look for anything that could be used to start a fire. The ominous icy tomb was the last place Sam ever wanted to keep Dean safe in, but it was the only option left and he was going to take it. Once he got back in and started the fire, he then began examining his brother's injuries.
The bleeding to Dean's side and leg slowed to a trickle, and the bleeding from the head wound stopped. Carefully lifting his shirt up, Sam gasped in horror at the deep, colorful, grotesque bruises covering his brother's abdomen. He gingerly ran his hand over the damage, and noticed how hard and tender it felt. Remembering that Dean coughed up blood earlier, he fervently prayed that he wasn't bleeding internally. Dean's four broken ribs ended up in God knows where and judging by how only one side was rising and falling, Sam feared that one of his ribs might have pierced a lung. He also knew that the snapping sound he heard earlier was definitely not the tree, but that there was nothing he could do. The gurgling sound deep in his brother's chest accompanied by the thin sheet of sweat coating Dean's pale features, made Sam pray for a damn good miracle.
He needs a hospital, Sam thought worriedly, and with it came a brilliant idea. He knew Dean checked for cell reception earlier, but he hoped that there would be a small chance that he might get one. Just standing an inch from the opening, he flipped open his cell and to his amazement, three bars appeared brightly. Eagerly dialing the first person that came to mind, he waited with bated breath for the person on the other end to answer.
"Caleb speaking," the deep voice of a man in his mid-thirties answered.
"Caleb, its Sam Winchester."
"Hey Sam, how's it goi-"
"Listen, I don't have a lot of time. It's not a black dog anymore, it's something else, Dean's been badly hurt, I'm pretty banged up myself, we're stranded out in the middle of freaking nowhere in a snowstorm, but we've managed to hole up in a cave and –"
"Whoa kid, slow down. Now you said you and Dean are hurt?"
"Can you help h-him?" Sam's breath hitched as tears clouded his vision.
"Where are you?"
Sam fumbled with the compass and map and relayed their whereabouts to their old friend.
"I'll get Bobby and Jim…and maybe that old man of yours, and we'll find you. Just be sure and keep yourselves warm, gotcha?"
"Yeah, gotcha."
"I'd like to see where that college education has gotten you, and I'd like to see that big pain-in-the-ass brother of yours too."
Shivering as he ended the call, he sat near his brother, but far away to leave room to rummage around in his pack. Pulling out the first-aid kit, Sam marveled for a minute at how he didn't think at first to bring it with him when finding Dean on that ledge. Finding some morphine shots in the kit, Sam made a mental note to give them to Dean when he woke up, a hundred percent sure he would be in a lot of pain.
Rummaging around in his pack some more, he made a mental inventory of provisions – something to keep his mind off of his own injuries. Every pained breath he took was close to excruciating as his own chest burned. He was pretty sure the three cracked ribs were now broken from carrying Dean, hitting another tree, and carrying his brother again. And he wouldn't even rule out the possibility that he might have sustained some internal injuries as well. The pounding in his concussed mind was intense enough for him to blackout, but he couldn't. Not when Dean hadn't woken yet.
Sam glanced at Dean then turned his attention back to the inventory…only to have his eyes snap back on his brother. Heart jumping to his throat, he then realized he hadn't heard any noise coming from his wounded brother, not since he called Caleb.
Putting the .45 ammo cases down, Sam shuffled himself a little way closer to his brother. He hissed as he felt a searing pain on his right side. Placing his hand on his side, he felt warm wetness there. No doubt a damn broken rib caused it, Sam thought grimly as he looked at the blood on his hand, but one glimpse at Dean's lips turning that awful shade of blue and the grey pallor tingeing his face had Sam hurrying to his brother's side.
Positioning his ear over his brother's mouth, his heart plummeted when he didn't feel a puff of air coming from his brother. Ah shit! Sam's mind screamed again when he realized Dean wasn't breathing. Sam frantically felt for a pulse and found a very weak and sluggish one, but one nonetheless.
Tipping his brother's head back and pinching his nose, Sam placed his mouth on Dean's and gave two quick breaths, "C'mon Dean, breathe. Don't do this to me." Checking his airway after a couple of more breaths while damning everything he could think of, Sam anxiously wondered why it was taking so long. Maybe his windpipe is more damaged than I thought?!
"Dammit Dean, breathe! Breathe you bastard!" Sam shouted, tears raining down his cheeks and splashing on Dean's face. Two more quick breaths followed before Sam broke, choking on tears, "Please Dean, breathe for me."
A tiny gasp of air was heard coming from the wounded hunter as if Dean had heard his brother's pleas.
"Dean?" Sam asked hopefully, shocked as he looked down at Dean.
"Ssmmy? 'Ky?" Dean grated out from his abused larynx as he settled his eyes on Sam.
"Fine, Dean," Sam replied automatically.
"Good" came Dean's immediate response as he closed his eyes.
"Dean, I don't think that's –"
Sam was cut off by the sound of deep booming rumbling from right above their heads. Without thinking, Sam threw himself over Dean, protecting him, as the rumbling shook the ground beneath them. Both Winchesters never moved an inch, waiting with bated breaths for it to stop, tense muscles expecting the unexpected, and neither flinched when they were thrown into total darkness as the fire died out.
An eternity seemed to pass by when it finally ended, leaving the only sound of their breathing for company. Sam waited a few more seconds before lifting his head and removing himself completely from his brother. After checking his sibling's breathing and pulse, in which Dean had weakly pushed his hand away and mumbled something about 'personal space', Sam pulled out their trusty flashlight and illuminated the interior of the cave.
Swinging the light to the entrance of the cave, Sam saw something that made panic and fear seize him tightly. A groan from his brother made Sam turn worried eyes on him, and judging by the grumpy look on the older man's face, he knew Dean had seen their new predicament, or as Dean would say 'their new shithole'.
Looking at each other, both brothers knew that this would be a long night…but how long they could last in the frosty confines of the cave was the question.
TBC...
A/N: Yep, hurt boys galore! Just enough to satisfy all the hurt Dean and Sammy fans, LOL...but I won't let them survive with just a scratch...LOL! Be sure to look for more hurt boys in the next chapter! Until then...pretty please r&r :) Merry Christmas everyone!!!