I promise, fluff and humor is coming... and I apologize again for injuring our poor little Sammy. Please... requests... I'm starving over here. And reviews. Thanks!
I do not own Supernatural or it's characters.
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Chapter 6 ****************************************************************************************************************************
In desperation he walked back out into the parking lot, searching for a clue, any clue. His foot hit against something and he stopped to pick it up, his gaze meeting a tranquilizer dart. Oh no. Kidnappers.
He tried to calm himself as his throught started to close up. Come on, Dean. Don't panic. Panicing won't do Sammy any good. Think. He looked around, carefully scrutinizing the parking lot, and spotted a CCTV camera. Yahtzee! He grinned. Now for getting a look on the footage... preferably without a replay of the Benders. That was the last thing he needed.
He concidered his options for obtaining them, then bowed his head, "Hey, uh, Cas! Balthazar! Hell, I'd even take Gabriel at this point, but one of you sons of bitches had better get his ass down here! I need help, and some ass-kicking angel action would be really useful right now. So, uh, yeah." He opened his eyes and looked around, then turned back to the motel door when no help appeared. "Yeah. Thanks for nothing, guys," he muttered as he made his way back inside. So he was on his own huh? Well that was just freaking fine with him.
He thought, no invisible angel to get security footage, and he really didn't want to go to the police station. He ran his hands through his hair. Come on, you worthless idiot, think! What if this was a normal hunt? What would you do?
Case the area, see what likely abandoned buildings were around, then start driving to check them. Normally he would have a map, but this time he didn't have time for that. He pulled Sam's laptop across the table.
A few hours later, he sat, with a list in his hand, driving to every abandoned building he had been able to find. He had checked five so far, with no results. He pulled up in front of an old mill of some kind.
He walked through it, forcing himself to go slowly, the way he had been trained, covering himself with his gun and flashlight. He walked through room after room, and finally gave up. It had been ten minutes. This one was a bust too. Cross it off the list. He turned to leave.
"...ean." He froze. It had been almost inaudible, but he could have sworn he heard something. He turned around, "Sammy?" He called.
"Help...ean..." He followed the voice, trying to pinpoint its source. Then he saw it.
If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed it was a pile of garbage. Looking for a person, when he knew they were in the room, he could make out a body, dumped uncerimoniously in a corner. He ran to his brother, "Sam! Sammy. Oh, you're in bad shape." Sam wasn't even looking at him, his head was turned in an entirely different direction, and he was staring at nothing. Dean desperately snapped his fingers in front of his nose, with no response, "Sam. Oh crap, what did they do to you, man? Okay, let's see... um, you need a hospital." He hurredly changed position to slide his hands under him, one under his knees, the other under his shoulders, "Can you hear me? I need you to put your arms around my neck. Can you do that?" Sam's hands moved a couple of inches before he scrunched his face up and stopped, "...hurts..." Dean grabbed his arms and threw them around his neck, Sam finally linking his fingers loosly together, "Okay, that'll have to do. Come on, Sammy." He stood up, and Sam's head fell worryingly backwards. Dean managed to rearrange him slightly so his head rested against Dean's chest. He started for the door, "Bet you're glad for Gabriel now, huh Sammy? I couldn't do this with you as a giant sasquatch."
He made his way to the Impala as quickly as he could, settling Sam in the passenger seat. He floored the accelerater, and silently apologized to his baby as the tires spun and squealed in protest before gaining traction. He looked over at Sam as he drove, "Hey! How many fingers am I holding up?" he said, his hands still gripping the wheel.
"Can't...see. ...spots...colored..." Dean willed the car to go faster.
"So...tired..." Oh no, "Sam no! Come on, don't go to sleep, you hear me? Don't you dare go to sleep!" He reached a hand over to shake his little brother, "We're almost there. Hold on, don't you die on me now! You do that and I swear I will kick your ass! Just a little longer, Sammy. Just hold on a little longer." He pled with him, keeping up a running commentary all the way to the hospital.
He lifted him out of the passenger seat, then ran into the ER, "Doctor! We need a doctor here!" The receptionist looked up, a bored expression on her face, "Sit down, here's some paperwork you can fill out. We'll call your name when we're ready for you." Dean stared at her, "My br- my sister is dying, and you want me to fill out paperwork?" She glanced at Sam, "I don't see any blood."
"You're a freaking receptionist!" Sam moaned, and shifted a little against him, "...ean...hurts..." Dean looked down at him, "It's okay, Sammy, its going to be okay." He looked back at the woman, "Can't we at least have some ice, or asprin, or morphine, or something?" The expression did not change, "I am not authorized to give out medication without a doctor's approval." He started toward her threateningly, "Well, sweetheart, you had better BECOME freaking authorized, because Sam is in pain, and he had sure as hell better not be sometime in the next five minutes!"
"Sir, if you could just calm down."
"Calm down! I am calmed down! My sister is going to die in the damn Emergency Room, and not one of you will even lift a finger to get her some pain meds! I'll tell you what else, if she dies, I am holding each and every one of you responsible, and believe me, you do not want that!"
A fat man in a blue security uniform casually made his way over, "What seems to be the problem?"
Dean glared at him, "The problem? Sam is dying, in horrible pain and agony, and I'm talking to your ugly, fat mug. That's the problem!"
The security guard looked at Sam, "I don't see an injury. Don't worry, she's fine." Dean bounced Sam lightly, trying to get a better hold, "You know what? Screw this." He pushed past the man and walked toward the red double doors of the ER proper, "Don't worry Sammy, this way to doctors. You're not gonna die, not on my watch."
"Sir... Sir!" He turned around and gave the receptionist the finger, before kicking the doors open and going through.
Dean finally managed to get a doctor's attention. Dr. Sean Thomson was walking along and suddunly found himself staring at a person in the hallway, a young man holding a woman, yelling to all and sundry, "What's wrong with you sons of bitches?! Can't you see what's going on?! You're doctor's, dammit! She's dying! Now help!" He moved over to him, "What's wrong?" The man looked at him, a confrontational look on his face that was rather spoiled by the tears welling up in his eyes, "My sister's had an accedent. Please, they won't even give her anything for pain. She's all I have." his heart broke at how pitiful and pleading the last part sounded. He looked down at the girl, studying her for symtoms, "Yeah, the people here can be a bunch of- Oh my God!" He grabbed a nurse, "Get this woman into a room ASAP. Hurry!" The nurse nodded and rushed off for a stretcher. He turned back to the man, "What happened?"
"I don't know. I just found her like this. I got her over here as fast as I could. I've been trying to get help for about the past fifteen minutes." The nurse returned with a stretcher, and, reluctantly, the man laid the girl down on it.
"Good. You've probably just saved her life. Now get back to the waiting room. There's information we need, and we'll alert you if anything changes."
"Uh-uh. I stay with Sam. You want me to fill out forms, I'll do it sitting in the room by her side." Sean stared at the man, then sighed in resignation, "Okay."
Sean walked out of the room. He had been forced to kick Sam's brother out while they hooked up the IVs and other equipment to keep him out of the way, as Dean literally would not leave his sister's side. He was impressed with the pair, with how close they were, and couldn't help remembering how he hardly spoke to his own sister outside of holidays. He approached Dean, who appeared to be praying, a judgement he reconcidered as he heard the rather uncomplementary and angry things coming out of his mouth. The young man jumped to his feet as he approached, "What's the verdict, Doc?"
"Well, she has sustained significant injury, and I have some questions, but she'll live." Dean nodded, then looked at him, "Thank you."
"What happened?"
Dean looked confused, "What do you mean?"
"How did she recieve these injuries? This was... she was electricuted repeatedly for extended periods over several hours. It's the only way I can explain it. And I'll be damned if I can think of a way outside of being interrogated by the gestapo that that could happen."
"Like I said, Doc, I don't know. I came home and she was lying on the floor."
Sean studied the man, unsure if he believed him, "Okay... I'll come to you again if I have any questions. In the meantime, you're welcome to go in."
Dean ran into the room. It was an awful sight, his brother, so small and venerable, hooked up to five different machines. He wanted to kick himself. This was his fault. He had failed Sam again, and now he was getting to see the aftermath.
He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed. It rang a few times before he heard a familiar gruff voice on the other end, "Hello?"
"Bobby?"
"What's wrong, Dean? You sound like your dog just died."
"Sam's hurt, Bobby. It's really bad."
"What happened?"
"I don't know, but my bet is on hunters. They kidnapped him, and I didn't find him again for ages. We're okay now. He's in the hospital."
"I'll be down there as soon as I can. Where are you?"
Dean told him the town and state and the conversation ended fairly quickly. He looked over at Sam.
A faint groan emenated from the bed and he hurried over, gripping the offered hand as hard as he could. The warmth in it comforted him. Not like in those horrible days after Sam died, the days before he sold his soul. This was warm, alive, moving, and- He looked up to see Sam watching him, a faint smile on his face, "Dude, you're crushing my hand." It was clearly difficult talking, and Dean relaxed his grip. Alive, talking, and with the wall intact. That was all that mattered, "So, how you feeling, Princess Peach?" Sam gave him a bitchface.
"What? Would you prefer Mary Sue?" His brother tried to laugh, then stopped with a grimace as he realized how much it hurt. He shifted uncomfortably, "Dean, um..."
"Yeah? You having lady problems?"
"I'm lying on my hair." Dean reached underneath him and grabbed the long braid, pulling it so it hung off the side of the bed. "That better?" Sam nodded, sighing as he relaxed back into the pillows. Dean stared at him in relief, there were so many worse ways this could have gone.
A/N: See? Everything will be fine... The question, of course, is, why didn't Cas show up? And what are the other two up to? Patience... :)
By the way, before any of you start complaining about my portrayal of the medical industry, this was based on my experience a couple of years ago when my Mom broke her arm. We eventually went to another hospital. I pretty much copied the receptionist's and security guard's lines word for word from that experience.
Remember, requests and reviews make Sam feel better.