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Okay, so I read IT, and thought to myself "How hard can it be?" So I dressed up in a clown suit, faked some deaths and crap (Talk about that costing a pretty penny!) and pranced around some fair. Next thing I knew, I was being shoved into some really small car with about twenty other jerks that had the same idea as I did!!
I really appreciate the reviews I received on the last chapter, even the constructive ones! Knowing that you all are enjoying the story really does make me write all the faster. Thanks so much to all of you that have offered your continual support (you know who you are) it honestly makes me smile whenever I see your replies. So … without further ado, unlucky number 13. And … Katie … there is one part in this just for you. And Rachelly … I dedicate the last half of the chapter to you!
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"Of all the stupid things you've ever done, Sam!"
"Dean, I…"
"No, Sam, no! This one took the cake!"
"But Dean, I … "
"No, Sam, just shut up, cause I'm pretty pissed at you!"
"Dean … ?"
"WHAT?!"
"I'm gonna pass out now…"
Later, Dean would have sworn that when that first gunshot echoed in the room that his heart exploded with what could best be described as panic … pure and utter panic. The room slowed, everything froze for one minute, only Dean being able to interact with anything, though that was pointless considering everyone and everything else was frozen and Dean himself was too stunned to move.
Then another deafening crack resounded in the room, sending blinding white light to burn up his side and get Dean's legs moving.
Sam.
His heart slammed against his chest and once again the room was a flurry of motion that could best be described as chaos. The arm around his brother's neck tightened as the man holding him captive fell backward. Sam, unable to support his own weight much less pull against a force drawing him down, swayed for one brief moment, his eyes becoming totally coherent for that split second that he remained upright … then he fell backward, his fall only being cushioned by the sick bastard that had tried to kill him.
"Damn it, Joshua … "
Bobby's voice barely registered in Dean's mind as he dropped to his knees, the gasp from his brother bringing Dean's awareness back to focus as Sam struggled to breathe, the burly arm of Allen still pinned around his neck.
"Let go of him, you sonofabitch!"
The initial crunch of bone hitting bone was distinct and drew the attention of the other three that entered the room, but Dean paid it little mind as his fist flew again and again … the crunch being replaced a sickening squish sound as bone gave way to the fatty tissue it was trying in vain to protect. Blood splattered with the next hit, spraying his face in a way Dean had become quite used to. But, as his arm drew back for another punch to the fallen man, something hooked under him and dragged him back.
"Get off me!"
"Dean, let Joshua help Sam."
The reasoning voice of Bobby did little to calm Dean's seething emotions that had, since this whole thing began, been pent up to fester like an infection harboring beneath the surface, only to erupt in a primal rage that wasn't easy to control in the best of circumstances.
This was hardly the best of circumstances.
"Where's he hit?"
Gary's voice broke through his anger induced fog that saw but one thing … Allen's bloodied face. He didn't see Joshua drag Allen's arm off of Sam. He didn't see Gary pull Sam from the tangle of limbs where he'd fallen. He didn't even see Sam take a gasping breathe of air.
What he saw was blackness dancing across his vision, threatening to take away his coherency … threatening to take away Sam.
"Dean … ?"
He shrugged off the weight on his shoulder, not fully comprehending that it was Bobby's hand resting there, and crawled toward Sam.
"Sam? Can you hear me Sam?"
Reaching his baby brother, Dean reached out with his hand, shaking fingers finally making contact with Sam's cheek. Warm … he was warm. Then moved upward to brush sweat soaked locked from Sam's brow. "You never do things halfway, do you Sammy?"
"Dean, you're bleeding."
Suddenly it dawned on him how still his brother was. How utterly still and helpless looking. Blinking, Dean nudged his face with his fingers. "Sam?"
"Dean, let me take a look at your side."
He searched Sam's face for any sign of stirring but found none, so he grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "Get up Sam!"
"Dean, let me see how badly you're hurt."
With no reaction from his brother, his baby dying brother, he lightly slapped his cheek. "Don't you do this to me, Sammy, do you hear me!" He shook him again and went for a third when a hand caught his wrist, drawing him out of the Sammy's dying vortex.
"He's not dead, Dean, but you will be if you don't let me look at your side!"
Dean finally pulled away from that black fog that had been trying to envelop him and glanced down to the blossoming flower of red that coated his side, then to Sam and the identical bloom of red on his side.
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As the gun behind him fired, Allen pulled the trigger on his own weapon, meaning to take out his hostage with him, but the impact of the bullet piercing his brain jerked him in a dance forward. The movement altered his deadly move, his aim skewing as his arm jerked, and the blast meant for Sam Winchester's back hit his side. The bullet ripped through the youngest Winchester's side in a deep flesh wound before stopping as it impacted in Dean's side in another flesh wound that left both brothers bleeding. A small price to pay considering the alternative.
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"How is he, Joshua?"
The dark haired hunter lifted his head of his perusal of Sam to glance to Bobby. "I could ask you the same."
Both hunters were in the midst of damage control on their charges, Joshua working on Sam while Bobby worked on a rather testy Dean.
"How's Sam?"
Dean's demand had Bobby grumbling and Joshua glancing over before turning back to the youngest Winchester. "He's alive, Dean." It was really the best he could give him considering he wasn't a doctor. Ironically, it was a doctor that did this to him.
"Time to go, gentlemen."
Everyone but Sam (who was still mostly out of it) looked up as Gary entered the room after going to inspect the grounds for any more signs of trouble.
"Cops here?"
"No, but if my guess is correct, they won't take much longer. So if you pansies are ready …?"
Joshua turned back to Sam and patted his cheek. "Come on Sam, time to wake up." For all his effort, the elder hunter received not even a groan. Sam Winchester was down and out for the count, and Joshua's words weren't doing a thing to rouse him. "Come on Sam, we'll let you sleep in the car, but right now I…."
Suddenly Joshua was pushed to the side as a distraught Dean came to settle by Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?"
With no response, Dean's voice grew more agitated, more concerned. "Come on Sam, you gotta get up."
With still nothing, Dean took on that authoritative tone that their father used to use when he meant business. "Get up Sam!"
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Pain exploded in his back and Sam was once again thrown into a wall, only to plummet to the floor with a thunk.
"Sammy?"
He barely had time to catch his breath before he was ripped from his resting spot to slam into, of all places, the ceiling. Hitting with a groan, he stared in horror as he hovered there a few minutes, as if the ghost was taunting him into some false sense of security. Then the force that held him relinquished its control and Sam fell to the floor with a sickening thud.
Blackness started to take control, though somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a wail from the ghost in its last efforts to stay on this plane of existence. Good, Dean got the fucker…
"Come on Sam, you gotta get up."
He tried ignoring the voice; the one that calmed him when he'd had a bad dream and was now urging him to face something he most definitely did not want to face … pain. Clenching his eyes closed, he tried pretending that it didn't exist, that his very world was not centered on that voice.
"Get up Sam!"
The blackness ebbed enough for Sam to realize one thing … he hurt! His mouth opened and closed, and finally he squinted his eyes open to spy a blurry figure.
"Sam?"
"Dean … ?"
As the outline of his brother's face began to take shape, Sam smiled in relief, then immediately regretted that small movement. Even something as simple as a smile was sounding out the drums of war in his head.
"How … ?"
"I had my Sammy radar up!"
Sam closed his eyes again, his security blanket once again enveloping him with Dean's presence.
"No no, Sammy, you gotta stay awake."
"Jes five more minutes Dean…"
"No, Sam, up!"
That urging demanding call had Sam's eyes opening again, and once again he was greeted with the blurry shape of his brother.
"How ya doing, kiddo?"
Sam opened his mouth to speak but suddenly Bobby's face was seen looming over Dean's shoulder.
"I hate to break up the reunion, but we need to high tail it for the hills. We've overstayed our welcome."
Dean's brows furrowed as he looked to his kid brother. Sam knew that look … whatever they were going to do, it was going to hurt. Swallowing, he nodded very slowly to try and stop the rumble in his head from happening.
"Let's go…"
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Getting Sam up was easier said than done. While he had gotten on his feet on his own since being shot, the wound in his thigh sent a lightening bolt up his limb to his stomach as soon as Dean (with the help of Bobby) got him on his feet.
The groan (along with that sudden green color he was sporting) was the only warning before Sam was listing forward, the nothing he had in his stomach trying to come up in waves that had his back and stomach muscles clenching so painfully it brought tears to Sam's eyes. Squinting them closed, one lone tear escaped the corner of his left eye to trail down his already sweat soaked cheek.
Leaning forward, he barely registered the strong hands holding him up as he heaved again; the only sound registering was the sound of his own retching as his gut heaved painfully.
Slowly, however, something worked its way through the fog that was Sam's pain; something soothing, calming … something so utterly familiar. While strong hands held him, it was the methodical rubbing at his back that began to ease the pain that had been merciless in its intensity until that moment.
"It's okay, Sam."
The words were low, murmured, and while no one else in the world might have taken heed to them, to Sam Winchester they possessed a sort of magic that no other sound in the universe could have accomplished. It wasn't the words themselves, but rather the voice the man behind the words.
"You're going to be okay."
Slowly his stomach calmed, though it never fully relaxed, and his mind cleared enough to be able to nod his head, to acknowledge that he was okay. That hand on his back kept rubbing for a moment as both men at his side waited until Sam regained his breath and gathered his bearings before they started to move.
"Where're we going?"
Bobby's voice barely registered as he and Dean talked over him. Sam just concentrated on his next step, on the next move that shot pain up his leg.
"I hate to say it, but the hospital."
"We can tend to him in … "
"His hand's broken, we can't fix that."
Sam didn't notice Bobby nod. He barely heard their words. Just that voice. The one that chased all the demons away. "Can I sleep in your bed Dean?" The one that put the world back on its axis. "Sure Sammy…" The one that had Sam Winchester closing his eyes and just breathing through the pain. "You're going to be okay." All because Dean told him so.
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Okay, one more chapter to go! It's sort of an epilogue, but finishes up everything. I'm really ecstatic at the reviews I've been getting, not to mention the people that have given me continual support! It means so much. I also have that little tickle in my head for another story! So, as soon as I wrap this one up, I'll be working on it. It might take a week or so, as I have TONS of things that I am behind on. Did I mention computer crashes suck? Sam and Dean should HUNT my old hard drive!
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