A/N: Happy Sinterklaas! Don't forget to put your shoe out...
Dean stood next to his bed, burning the radio with his gaze, daring it to start playing again. His line of sight was taken away from the radio and to the door when a frantic pounding came from the outside of it, Sam's voice calling out, "Dean! Dean, are you okay?"
Dean turned his head and yelled back at the door, "Yeah I'm fine Sam."
Resuming dressing himself Dean avoided the corner of the room that the radio had landed in, giving it a berth of about five feet. Dean made a mental note to himself to throw it out the window if it so much as moved an inch. Not willing to take any chances Dean walked over to the window, looking to see if there was a safe zone he could toss the thing without hitting any one walking below on the sidewalk.
As he was scanning the area Dean noticed a young girl walking by, she was about sixteen or eighteen years old, he couldn't be sure from this distance. What he was sure of was the fact that she was limping, bad, cradling her one arm against her side. She was moving slowly, obviously in a lot of pain.
Running out of him room Dean blew past Sam's door, pausing just long enough to knock and say, "Sam! Need your help! Meet me downstairs." He left before he heard the answer, going down the stairs three at a time, an added bonus about having long legs.
He made it to the door, quickly throwing on his boots and coat, not bothering to do either of them up. He was just about out the door when he heard Elizabeth call out after him, "No Dean! There's nothing you can do!"
Dean ignored her, dashing after the girl as she slowly made her way down the road. She had put a fair amount of distance between herself and the house, apparently able to limp pretty fast.
Dean called after her, begging her to stop. The girl slowed, as if debating whether or not to listen to him. She eventually stopped, turning to face Dean. She had streams of tears running down her face, the flow so constant that there wasn't time for the water to freeze on her face. Her expression was complete misery, her eyes a bitter mixture of sadness and pain. Her hair was a mess; her clothes rumpled and out of place. She was barely held together, and there was no one offering to help.
Dean caught up to the girl, slowing down so he wouldn't scare her off. He stopped a few feet away from her, knowing better than to approach her directly. He looked her over and asked, "What happened?"
The girl's face switched to pure fear, her body starting to shake. She turned away from Dean and started limping again up the road, as fast as she could, which was pretty fast considering her circumstances.
"Wait!" Dean called after her, taking a few steps forward, "Just let me help you!"
The girl stopped again, her back still turned to Dean as he heard her whisper out, "No one can help me."
Dean stayed where he was, glad that he had finally got to the girl, "Just let me help clean you up. See what I can do."
The girl turned to him, her eyes full of confusion, tears finally ceasing to flow. "Why?"
Dean fought the urge to laugh, "Because that's what people do. They help each other."
The girl looked at the ground, her voice soft, "Not around here they don't."
Dean let that one slide, focusing on more important things, putting his questions aside for later. "Well come inside and let me help you. You can trust me."
The girl looked at him again, her eyes calculating and cold. She looked at him for a few seconds before finally relenting, walking towards Dean as carefully as her leg would let her. When she finally reached him Dean slowly put an arm around her, taking most of her weight on him. They slowly made their way back to the door, by now the girl had her face hidden in Dean's arm, tears soaking his shirt.
Sam was in the hallway when Dean opened the door, clearly annoyed with his older brother, "What the hell Dean? You don't just-" He stopped as soon as he saw the girl, quickly going to his brothers side to help him with her. Dean shook his head as Sam came near, a subtle warning for him to back off.
Dean led her into the kitchen, having her sit on the small table that was in the center of the small room. She sat down with a wince, her teeth clenching together with a squeak, grinding them together with a passion against the pain that was pulsing through her body. Dean pushed on the girl, making her lie down on the table, apologizing as he did it, "I'm sorry, but I'm trying to help you."
Tears sprung to the girl's eyes as she lay back on the table, a silent sob coming to her lips. Dean helped her down, one hand cradling the back of her head, making sure not to jar it any more than it actually was. Turning to Sam Dean snapped out, "Bring me a pail of hot water, scissors and a towel. Oh, and one of my shirts too."
"Dean, what's going-" Sam was clearly out of his element, just standing in the door way awestruck.
"Sam! Just do what I tell you okay? Just for one moment of your life listen to me!" Dean turned on his brother, his eyes flaring. Sam took a step back, surprise taking over his features. It dropped fast though, replaced by bitterness, but he did what Dean asked him to anyway, disappearing from the kitchen as he called for Elizabeth, inquiring about a bucket.
As Sam went and got the items Dean had listed off, Dean was asking the girl what all was wrong. She listed them off emotionlessly, trying to cut herself off from what was happening around her, "I think my arm is broken, my leg might be too. My ribs hurt and my back is throbbing. I don't know. I might have a concussion?"
Dean nodded, standing above the girl, "I need you to open your eyes and look at me."
The girl did as he instructed, her eyes meeting his. Dean pulled out his penlight, something he always had attached to his keychain. Moving the light back and forth before her eyes he watched for the contraction of her pupils, making sure that they were normal. "Do you feel nauseous or tired at all?"
The girl nodded, "Yeah. Tired that is."
Dean hummed, clicking the light off, "Well you might have a minor concussion so no matter how much you want to fall asleep you can't okay?"
The girl nodded, her eyes sliding closed. Dean shook her slightly, not wanting to hurt her anymore, "That means eyes open okay?"
The girl nodded again. Sam had come back by now, a large bowl of hot water in his one hand, towel over his arm, scissors in the other and a shirt over his shoulder. Placing them on the counter he went to Deans side, "Is there anything I can do?"
Dean shot him a glare, making Sam take a step back, "Stay out of my way and do as I saw, no questions asked okay?"
Sam swallowed, nodding. Dean held his hand out, saying simply, "Scissors."
Sam handed them over, watching as Dean slowly cut the girls jacket, sweater, and tank top off, leaving her in only her bra. With all the excess fabric removed Dean could see the extent of her injuries, and they were bad. There were bruises all up and down her back, the down coat muffling the beating enough for her skin to remain in place. The deep purple coloring went from her armpit and down her side, disappearing under her. This was all on her right side, her left bare. Dean figured that she curled up on her left side, the road protecting it from getting any of the beating.
When Dean tried to slip the sleeve down her right arm, the girl hissed making Dean stop in his tracks. He took to scissors in hand again, cutting down the sleeve, slicing it in half. Dean could hear Sam gag behind him, most people would at the sight of a radius bursting from a forearm. Dean was surprised that it hadn't ripped through her coat, and that the girl hadn't passed out. She must have been smart enough to keep pressure on it though as it wasn't bleeding profusely, having missed the artery located in the wrist and the one that was located on the radius. Dean didn't know how it didn't break but the girl should be thanking her lucky stars it hadn't. She would have bleed to death before anyone could have helped her.
Dean steeled himself, pulling the fabric away from her skin, the blood still wet enough to take the fabric away without pulling at the broke skin under it. He motioned towards Sam with his hand, beckoning him forward. He could hear Sam shuffling towards him, stopping a few feet away. "Sam, get your ass over here."
Sam appeared at his side, fighting to keep whatever food was in his stomach there. He let out a quick, "Yeah?" before clamping his mouth shut once again.
Dean was moving to the girl's right side, rolling his sleeves up. "I am going to need you to hold her down, she's going to try and get away from me and that can't happen you understand me?"
"What are you going to do?" Sam's voice was a whisper, his eyes wide.
"I need to set the bone, and it is going to be incredibly painful," Dean let the 'I should know' slide. This wasn't the time or place.
Sam placed his hands on the girl's collarbones, trying to find a place that wasn't bruised to place them. Dean took the towel from the counter and placed it in the girl's mouth, telling her to bite down on it. Once the towel was in place Dean put his hands on her arm, taking a deep breath before pulling on her arm, watching the bone slip back under her skin. This was the tricky part, getting the bone back in place without tearing muscle or tissues, especially not getting any caught in between the bone as he put it back. With a practiced hand Dean pushed the bone up then down quickly, clearing the area of muscle before the bone connected with itself once again.
The girl was screaming, the towel in her mouth doing nothing to muffle the animal like cries coming from her tiny body. Tears were rolling down her face again; her teeth bore against the yellow towel, piercing through the fibers. Once Dean had finished her cries stilled, whimpering replacing the heartbreaking noise.
Dean was still looking at the young girls arm when he spoke to Sam once again, "I need a needle, thread, a candle, matches, whiskey, gauze and a iron poker."
When Sam didn't move Dean looked up. His brother had a death grip on the girl's shoulders, hard enough to add the bruises that already covered her body. His eyes were glued to the wound on her arm, drinking in the sight of the blood slowly oozing from it to the table, a small puddle forming beneath the appendage.
"Sam!" Dean's voice snapped him out of his stupor, Sam coming back to reality. He quickly pulled his hands away from the girl as she burned him. He was in shock, not really believing that this was happening to him, that he was helping his brother fix a girl that they hadn't even known existed ten minutes ago. "Sam, did you hear what I said?"
Dean's cold green glare helped Sam get a grip, making him focus on what he was supposed to be doing. "Yeah, I heard you." He turned and went out the kitchen again, looking for Elizabeth one more time.
Dean took the time to cut off the girl's jeans, not knowing if her leg was broken like she had assumed. Once the jeans were cut away Dean could see that her leg was not broken, possibly fractured though. He couldn't be sure, she would have to go to a hospital as soon as she could to get it checked. He would put a splint on her leg, just to be safe.
By the time that he was done checking her legs, Sam had come back, his arms bursting with the supplies that Dean had asked for. Dropping them all on the counter Sam turned to the girl, ready to do whatever was needed. Dean moved back to the girls arm, holding on hand out to Sam, "Whiskey."
The bottle was placed in Dean's hand and he twisted the lid off, holding the rim to the girl's mouth, "Drink." Holding her head up, one hand placed against the back of her skull Dean tipped the bottle into her mouth, the amber liquid flowing down the neck. She took a small sip, coughing at the harsh burn that travelled to her belly.
Placing her head back down on the table, Dean poured some of the liquid on her arm, the girl crying out again as the alcohol hit her blood stream. She became silent again after a second, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Her lips were moving and if Dean had looked close enough he could read her lips forming the words of the Apostles Creed.
Taking the candle from the counter Dean lit it, placing the tip of the needle into the flame, making sure it was black before he took it out again. Waiting for it to cool for a second, he threaded the black string through the eye, tying the ends together so the note wouldn't slip through her skin. Testing the needle on his own finger, Dean deemed it cool enough and slipped the needle through her skin.
The girl bit back a cry, turning her head away from the sight of the metal passing in and out of her skin, bringing the torn muscles and fibers back together. Fifty close-knit stitches later Dean knotted the end of the string, cutting it off with the scissors he had used half an hour ago. The girl was still awake, Sam making sure that she didn't pass out or fall asleep.
Dean took the whiskey one more time, pouring it over the freshly closed wound, sterilizing just to make sure. Dean took the water, more luke-warm than hot anymore, and cleaned the blood off the area around the wound. Wrapping her arm in gauze Dean checked his work over, making sure that he didn't miss anything. The girl was going to be in a lot of pain for quite a while, but she would live, not that anyone had done anything to save her.
Moving to her left side Dean put her good arm over his shoulder, helping her sit up. Looking at Sam he said softly, "My shirt."
Sam handed him the piece of fabric, already unbuttoned. Dean slipped the shirt on the girl, her thin frame covered completely by the oversized clothing. Once she was covered Dean put his arm under her legs, keeping one behind her back and lifted her from the table, carrying her up to his room. He laid her gently down on the bed, placing a pillow below her head. Whispering he said, "Go to sleep, I'll be back to wake you every hour." With that he walked out of the room, shutting the door silently behind him.
Sam was standing in the hallway, still slightly shocked from what had just happened. His eyes were glazed over, as if her was lost in his thoughts. Faintly he said, "Dean, what was the iron rod for?"
Dean ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with his brother as he slipped past him, "In case I had to burn her wounds shut."