4.
Dean lay on the floor of the basement, his body virtually hidden by the seething mass of brown rats crawling all over him. Sam could see blood pooling on the floor where Dean had already been bitten. It looked as though the rats were literally eating his brother alive.
As Sam stared in disbelief, he saw one of Dean's arms move slowly, as if Dean was trying to push himself up from under the heaving bodies. Sam's heart skipped a beat as Dean's arm went limp again. The sight finally broke Sam's trance like stupor and, knowing he was likely to injure Dean as well but having no other immediate option, Sam raised his shotgun,
Sam silently prayed that his brother would be protected from the worst of the impact by the bodies of the rats moving over him and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the gun firing filled the basement and the effect of the rock salt on the rats was both immediate and satisfying. Nearly half the rats disintegrated on impact, leaving no trace what-so-ever. The rest rolled or leapt screeching off Dean's body, many of them with smoke curling off their pelts where they had been caught by the salt shrapnel. Sam raced down the stairs, his only thought to get to his brother.
As he knelt by Dean, Sam's eyes took in the tattered state of Dean's clothing where it had been torn and shredded by the rats. Spots of blood merged to cover almost the whole of Deans back. Sam could see scratches and torn flesh on both of Dean's hands and rivulets of blood trailing down the back of Dean's neck,
"Jeeze, Dean."
Sam glanced around the basement, searching for any immediate threat. There were no rats to be seen, anywhere. Sam returned his attention to his stricken brother. Laying the shotgun down he gently and, as carefully as he could, rolled Dean onto his back.
As yet Sam had seen no signs to reassure him that Dean was still alive. Sam's terror that he may be too late to save Dean threatened to overtake him. Sam noted the sizable bruised bump and the long, bloody gash to the side of Dean's forehead. Moving Dean had elicited no reaction from his brother and Sam's hand shook as he reached to feel for a pulse at Dean's neck.
Sam's head dropped in relief as he found a pulse. It was rapid, but it was there. He cupped Dean's cheek in his hand,
"Dean? C'mon Dean. Wake up man, you've gotta wake up now. We've gotta get out of here."
A slight frown briefly creased Dean's forehead in response to Sam's voice, then it was gone.
"No. Not good enough brother. I need you awake."
Sam patted Dean's cheek, talking to him all the while, his tone becoming more forceful,
"Dean….it's me, Sam. Open your eyes. Look at me Dean….Dean Winchester, Isaid open your eyes!"
Finally Dean responded with a soft moan. Slowly he opened his eyes and tried to focus on Sam's face. He felt pang of guilt when he recognised the signs of concern and worry in Sam's expression.
"That's it Dean, look at me. I'm here. I'm sorry I left you alone man and, really, you can chew my ass for it later; but we have to go Dean."
Dean blinked hazily,
"Sam?"
"Ten out of ten. Dean. I need to get you sat up. I'm sorry if it hurts but we got no choice."
"Rat."
"I know. I shot at them and they've gone, but we have to move or they might come back."
Dean shook his head as Sam put his arm under Dean's shoulders, getting ready to sit him upright,
"No….no….Rat!"
Sam realised Dean was staring at a point somewhere behind Sam. He slowly turned to look at where Dean was focused; then he let go of Dean and slowly slid his hand towards the shotgun.
The rat sat watching them was the biggest Sam had ever seen. Jet black and with dark red eyes. The end of it's tail twitched, hitting the floor rhythmically. Sam found himself thinking of someone drumming their finger nails on a table top. He heard Dean's breathing getting faster, signalling Dean's increasing anxiety. Sam closed his hand around the shotgun. In one fluid movement he tuned his body to face the rat and brought the gun up, finger already pulling back the trigger as took aim, at an empty space.
Sam blinked in surprise. The rat hadn't scurried away; it simply wasn't there any more. Not about to waste time pondering, Sam turned back to Dean. He noticed the sheen of sweat standing on Dean's forehead and upper lip,
"Ok Dean. Time to go."
Dean nodded and reached up to put an arm around Sam's neck. Sam made no comment at the expression of pain on Dean's face, or the shudder that he felt go through Dean's upper body as Sam helped him into a sitting position. Once sat, Dean closed his eyes briefly and he paled as Sam watched,
"You ok?"
"Bit dizzy, s'gone now."
Sam nodded his understanding, wishing he didn't have to force Dean into movement so soon,
"Take a couple of deep breaths…you ready to stand now?"
"M' fine. Jus' wanna go."
With Sam supporting him, Dean put both feet to the floor ready to push himself upright. As he did so, he let out a sudden cry of pain as one ankle collapsed under him, sending him straight back to a seated position. He hung his head and Sam could hear the whistling sound caused by Dean pulled air in through his teeth, trying to ride the sharp, lancing pains that were shooting up the full length of his leg from his ankle.
Sam gently raised the leg of Dean's jeans. He could see dark bruising around the top of Dean's boots along with clear signs of swelling. The depth of bruising suggested the ankle was more than likely broken. Sam considered his choices, finally opting for leaving Dean's boot on in order to provide support for the ankle until they were out of the building. Sam looked at his brother,
"Dean, I think it's broke. As well as that there's a goose egg and a nasty gash on your forehead. Do you remember falling at all?"
Dean considered briefly,
"Yeah. Tried to jump down the stairs but didn't quite make it. Felt my ankle go. Don't remember anything after that but think I must've hurt my back too."
"Erm…your back?"
"Uh huh. Feels….tight, an' stingy…My clothes feel sticky. It kinda feels like someone stabbed me all over my back with a fork, then bit me round the back of my neck an'….Sam? Why you looking at me like that?...Sam?"
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