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Chapter 6
"This is beginning to feel like a nightmare," Dean mumbled as he slowly returned to consciousness,
"The recurring kind."
He moaned as he realised he was still laying in the same position as before. His hip felt as though it
were on fire. Deans vision was fuzzy. His head was pounding.
"And here I was hoping to wake up in a nice hospital bed, doped to the eyeballs." Dean rolled his
eyes. A sharp light flashed in his eyes. He scrunched up his eyes as the light seared into them. "Hey."
Dean looked up to the source of the light. It was only then that he noticed the small hole in the
wreckage above him had got increasingly bigger. As his hearing adjusted he noted the noise above
him. It sounded as though they were trying to get him out. Dean wondered how long he had been out. He was cold and shivering. Never a good sign.
A face appeared in the hole. It was a woman who was in her mid twenties. She had shoulder length
brown hair. She was pretty and exactly Deans type. "Sir?" Dean rolled his eyes. He recognised the
voice from before. This was the same-stupid question asking voice from before. Dean laughed
inwardly. It was nice to put a face to a voice. Especially with a face like that.
Ignoring the searing pain in his hip he gave a small sarcastic wave. He saw an incredulous look pass
across the womans face. It was like she have never met anyone as arrogant. Then again, she had
never met Dean Winchester. She disappeared out of Deans eyeline for a second. She reappeared
and clumisly passed a blanket down. It landed uselessly on his chest. Dean raised an eyebrow and
shot the woman a look. A look that clearly said, " Fat lot of good that will do me." Dean opened the
blanket out and stretched it over him as best he could.
"Give me a break, I am kind of nervous you know."
"How is my brother?"
The woman looked confused for a second. "They are cutting him out of the wreckage now."
Dean blanched, "Cutting him out? What do you mean cutting him out?"
The woman frowned. She noted how Dean had trouble getting those paniced words out. She could
see each word was a struggle. "Calm down. You need to concentrate on yourself at the minute."
Dean chuckled. "You...you... do not know me very...well. How is Sammy?"
The woman bit her lip and she answered after a seconds hesititation. "He is in a bad way by all
accounts."
Dean closed his eyes in frustration. "Quit telling me that he is in a bad way! How...is..he?I need to
know." Dean was silenced by a fit of coughing. The hole grew sufficiently. The noise stopped for a
second. The woman looked away for a second. Dean guessed she was talking to the guys doing the
drilling. She appeared to be pleased with what she was hearing as Dean could see her nodding. She
turned and gently lowered herself into the hole and let go (it was a drop of about three metres). A
bag was passed down to her as she straightened. Dean barely saw the roughened middle aged man
smile down at him before he disappeared.
"I am Sara" she smiled as she knelt before him. Dean smiled weakly. "My brother.."
"He is not my concern at the minute." She replied curtly. She expertly straightened the blanket
around Dean. She opened her bag. She rummaged around for a second before selecting a syringe
and a glass bottle of clear liquid. She plunged the needle into the liquid and extended the syringe until
it was full. She reached for Deans arm. He jerked it back, out of her reach.
"Do you not need to make sure that I am not allergic to anything before you start injecting me with
stuff."
She raised an eyebrow and grasped his arm again, "It is a generic painkiller. You should be fine with
it until the other EMT's get here."
Dean reluctantly kept his arm still, "If you are sure."
"See? All better." She smirked as she withdrew the needle.
"Hey I may have a piece of plane sticking out of me but do not talk down to me. I want to know
lady. What is going on with my brother?"
The woman smirked, "If you must know, he is dead or very close to it."
"Wha...wha...what?" Dean spat.
"Well, if I did my job right he should be."
Stark realisation flashed through Dean. How could he have forgotten? "Christo" he snarled, waiting
for a reaction. He was not disappointed. The woman fliched at the latin words.
"Hello again." Dean whispered with the bravado he did not feel.