"I think you cheated." Mitch said, barring Dean from exiting the pool hall.
"I don't cheat. I'm just good." Dean sneered, sliding into his jacket.
"Dean, let's just go." Sam said. He looked at Mitch, whom he matched in height, and the man stepped aside. They boys started back the two blocks to the motel. Sam wanted to tell Kira goodnight, if she wasn't already asleep.
"Man, Dean, they were mad. It didn't help, you were a smartass."
"They'll be okay. They'll cry in a few more beers and stumble on home."
"You're right. We'll be okay. But you won't." Tony menaced as he came around the corner of a building in front of Dean. He had an aluminum baseball bat in his hands. Mitch followed with a very wicked looking knife.
"Guys, you're not being very good sports." Dean said chuckling. Man, he's drunk. Sam thought. This is gonna end badly.
"Dean, shut the hell up!"
"Yeah, Dean. Shut the hell up." Mitch rumbled as he advanced on Dean with the knife raised. Sam had his hands full with Tony and the bat. They were evenly matched in height and muscle, but Tony was heavier, thanks to the beer gut he sported. He swung the bat at him. Sam dropped and the bat hit the brick wall where he'd been, jarring Tony's arms and eliciting a growl from him. Sam caught him with an uppercut as he stood. Tony reeled but stayed on his feet. He swung again and missed. Sam spun and knocked his feet out from under him. He was up in no time.
Meanwhile, Mitch was brandishing the knife, grinning like a madman. Even drunk like he was, Dean easily dodged every thrust. He waited until Mitch overextended and brought his elbow down on the back of his neck. Mitch hit the ground and grunted, but was on his feet seconds later. Mitch then swung an empty fist at Dean and caught him in the stomach. Dean gasped and doubled over. Mitch plowed into him with the force of a rhino, slamming him into the wall of a building.
Sam dropped Tony, like a hot rock, with a kick to the head; and glanced at Dean just in time to see him get bowled over. Sam grabbed Tony's bat and rushed to help his drunk, stupid brother. Dean was sitting awkwardly against the wooden wall, mostly blocked from Sam's view by the big townie. He came up behind Mitch, and with a swing of the bat, put him out of commission. Dean groaned.
"Dean, what the hell were you thinking? Man how…" Sam started to chastise Dean, but stopped his tirade short when he noticed how pale Dean was. Sam gasped in horror when he saw the knife sticking out of his big brother's chest, on the right side just below the collarbone.
"Oh my god, Dean!" Sam dropped to his knees beside his brother.
Dean smiled weakly. "What a time to be beaten sober, huh Sammy?"
"God Dean, that's not funny. How bad is it?"
"Put a hole in my leather jacket."
"Dean, would you please stop being an ass?" Sam moved leather aside as gingerly as he could. The six inch long blade was buried to the hilt. Dean grimaced blood was flowing freely. Man, I haven't seen this much of my own blood since dad was possessed.
"I don't think it hit your lung or anything. You need a hospital."
"No, Sam. Cops."
"Fine. No hospital, if we can get the bleeding stopped. Come on. Let's get you back to the room." He started to haul Dean to his feet. Dean screamed.
"Sam stop!"
"What?"
Dean was sweating profusely now. "You gotta pull the knife, Sammy."
"What? No! You'll bleed too much."
"Sammy, dammit listen. The blade went clean through. Damn things got me pinned to the wall. You gotta pull it."
"Oh god."
"Yeah, tell me 'bout it." Dean's speech was beginning to slur.
"Okay Dean, just hang on." Sam reached into both back pockets, pulling out his leather wallet and the clean handkerchief he carried.
"Bite down." He said as he wedged the wallet in his brother's mouth. At least that will keep him from screaming…or biting through his tongue.
"Ready?" Dean nodded nervously. "On three. One…Two…Three…" Sam pulled the huge blade from Dean's shoulder. Dean moaned, turned three shades of white and collapsed in Sam's arms as blood covered Sam's hand and the pavement. Sam caught Dean before his head hot the ground. Feeling for a pulse, he found one; a little weak for his liking.
"Hang on Dean." Sam put the handkerchief between Dean's shirt and jacket and hefted him. Making his way- too slowly it seemed- under the extra weight back to the motel.