Chapter Nineteen
Sam cursed as he rushed to the couch and helped Jo carefully roll Dean onto his side, grabbing the blanket and jacket off his legs to keep him from getting tangled in it. Once Dean was safely situated, they stepped back just far enough to give him room but close enough to grab him if he started to fall off the couch. They watched in silent horror as Dean convulsed violently, the seizure causing him to vomit what little substance was left in his stomach. It took every ounce of constraint Sam had to keep himself from trying to comfort his brother, from trying to hold him still. But he could do nothing but watch as the seizure ripped through his brother's tortured body.
After two agonizingly long minutes, the convulsions slowed to tremors, then finally stopped altogether. Dean lay on the couch, breathing heavily, his exhausted muscles still trembling occasionally. When he was sure the seizure was over, Sam tentatively walked up to Dean and placed his hand gently on his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Dean didn't react to the touch. His eyes were open, staring blankly ahead, not comprehending what he was seeing.
"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice quiet and worried. Dean didn't respond, just continued staring without unseeing and gasping for breath. Fear clenched Sam at the sight of his brother's unresponsive body.
"Here," Jo said, coming up beside Sam and handing him a warm washcloth. He hadn't even noticed she had left the room.
Sam took the washcloth and started cleaning up the bile off Dean's chest as Jo re-situated the blankets and jacket.
"He's never had a seizure before," Sam spoke quietly, fear evident in his voice. He was trying hard to keep it together, to not break down. That seizure had scared him more than he was willing to admit. If only Dean would react somehow, show some sign that he was aware of what was happening, anything….
"When I first found him, there was a shock collar around his neck," Jo said softly. "The demon shocked him a couple of times while I was there, and judging by his reaction, the voltage was pretty high." She didn't say any more. She didn't have to; the implication was there. Who knew what damage that much electricity had done to Dean's nervous system?
Dean suddenly moaned and turned his head. "Dean?" Sam asked gently, not sure what state of mind his brother was in at the moment.
Dean's unfocused eyes started flitting frantically around the room as though trying to take everything in at once. He moaned again and tried desperately to get up.
"Dean, you need to stay still," Sam said urgently, putting a hand gently but firmly on Dean's shoulder. With all of his wounds, trying to stand up and move around was the last thing his brother needed to do.
Dean flailed his arms out at Sam's touch, batting weakly at his hand. Sam released his grip and Dean squirmed away, cowering into the couch, eyes still darting around wildly.
"Hey, Dean, it's ok, it's me. It's Sam," he said soothingly, holding his hands up where Dean could clearly see them.
Dean's eyes slowly focused on Sam. "Sammy?" he whimpered.
"Yeah, Dean. It's me." Dean reached his hand out toward Sam, grabbing his arm in a vice-like grip. He held onto it desperately, like it was a lifeline keeping him anchored while he tried to comprehend the situation.
"Where we?" Dean sounded confused and worried and his tongue was thick and unresponsive. His eyes still darted about frantically.
"We're in a cabin in the woods. It's ok, there's nothing to be afraid of," Sam replied gently. It took a moment for Dean to understand what he was saying, but when he did he seemed to relax a little. They sat in silence for several minutes, Dean's grip on Sam's arm never loosening, neither of them speaking, neither of them moving except for Dean's wide eyes.
When Dean seemed to be relatively calm again, Jo brought him a glass of water. "Here. I crushed some painkillers in it." She gently lifted the cup to his mouth and he drank tentatively, still clinging to Sam's arm. After he had drained half the glass, Dean stopped and laid his head back, his eyes drifting close. Soon after he fell into a fitful slumber.
Sam let out a shaky breath, gently easing his brother's hand off his arm. That was an experience he'd rather not have to witness again. He'd rather face off against a whole horde of vampires or pack of werewolves than have to see his brother like that again. Hell, he'd rather take on a gang of clowns.
"He pulled some stitches," Jo said, helping Sam to focus on the still-pressing issue of his injured brother. "Is there any more thread?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "There might be some hidden somewhere in the trunk, but it's not likely."
"Can't hurt to check." Jo started to walk out of the room.
"Wait!" Sam called after her. Jo stopped and turned. "Let's fix your shoulder first."
"I'm fine, Sam. It can wait."
"You're fine, right. That's why you've been walking around with your arm pressed against your stomach and wincing every two seconds."
Jo sighed, and relented. "Make it quick. Dean still needs help."
Sam positioned himself behind her, one hand on her dislocated shoulder, the other on her back. "On three. One…" He abruptly twisted the shoulder back into place. Jo let out a yelp and doubled over, clutching her shoulder.
"I hate it when you do that," she groaned through gritted teeth.
"How're the cuts on your arm and side?"
"They're fine. I patched them up already." She pushed her sleeve up to show him the bandage on her forearm. "It'll need a few stitches later, when we have the supplies, but its fine for now. How's your arm?" she countered, glancing at his blood-soaked sleeve.
Sam had forgotten about his own injuries. The bullet graze and the knife stab in his left arm had both stopped bleeding, but the stab wound would also need stitches. For now, he settled for letting Jo quickly clean and bandage it. She then went out to the Impala in search of more thread.
As Jo left, Sam paused to collect himself while he had a moment alone. Taking several deep, steadying breaths, Sam steeled himself, putting memories from the seizure behind him. His breaths sounded offensively loud in the sudden quietness of the room. Of the too quiet room…
Head snapping up, Sam rushed back to the couch. The heavy breaths that his brother had been taking had stopped, filling the room with a deafening silence. Placing a finger under Dean's nose, Sam felt a faint, uneven breath and heaved a sigh of relief. The quiet was due to Dean sleeping, nothing more. Sam was getting jumpy, the strain of finding and caring for his brother finally catching up to him.
Looking at Dean's face, Sam thought that maybe his overreaction wasn't without reason. Dean's skin was pale and waxy, his breath was ragged, and blood was already seeping through several of the bandages. He was alive, but he was fading. The excursion of the seizure had taken a lot out of him that he didn't have. He's lost too much blood Sam thought desperately. Ellen should be bringing more. How long did she say she would be? Three hours? Can he last that long?Sam knew Dean was strong and wouldn't give up easily. He would fight death tooth and nail if he had to. But everyone had their limits, even his superhero brother.
Sam was so lost in his worried thoughts that he didn't hear Jo re-enter the room, and he jumped when she spoke.
"Sam, are you and Dean the same blood type?"
"Yeah, why?"
Jo held up an IV line triumphantly. "I think I just found Dean some more blood."
Overwhelming relief flooded through Sam. Something's finally going right. "Where'd you get that?"
"You tell me, it was in your trunk." Jo grinned. "Let's get you hooked up."
Sam didn't know where the IV line had come from. He didn't remember it being in there the last time he checked. Then again, Dean was always picking up useful items whenever he could, a habit he had gotten from their father. Apparently that brilliant son of a bitch had managed to swipe an IV line from a hospital somewhere.
Sam gently lifted Dean up and slid behind him. Since he was going to have to sit still for the blood transfer, he might as well lend Dean his body heat at the same time. Sam winced as he felt the welts and cuts on Dean's back.
With his unhindered hand, Sam helped Jo clean off the rest of Dean's chest wounds. Once the blood and gore was cleared, they were finally able to see the extent of the wounds.
"These look like tally marks," Jo pointed to the parallel slashes. "36 of them. Why 36?"
"That's the number of victims Ryan and Rachel murdered before we found them last time," Sam answered despondently.
They continued tending to Dean in silence for a while, Jo stitching and cleaning, Sam warming and transfusing. After about 30 minutes, Jo glanced at Sam and cursed.
"Crap, Sam, you're really pale. We need to get you off the line."
"No!" Sam yelled as Jo moved to unhook the IV. "Dean still needs blood."
"So do you. You'll be no help to him if you pass out from blood loss."
"I'm fine. I can keep going."
"Sam, you're pale as a ghost. If I didn't know any better, I'd shoot you full of rock salt. Now let me take out the damn line before you pass out and I have two unconscious Winchesters to tend to."
Sam relented, knowing she was right. He was already feeling light-headed from blood loss, and knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. At least Dean's lips weren't blue anymore.
Sam swayed as he stood up. Jo put out an arm to help steady him.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, just a little dizzy. Give me a moment." He leaned over, putting his head between his legs and taking deep, steady breaths. The sudden dizziness reminded him that he hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours. None of them had.
Once the dizzy spell had passed, Sam rummaged through the duffel bag for something to eat. His efforts were rewarded with two brightly-wrapped protein bars. Handing one to Jo, he quickly unwrapped his own and ate half of it. He saved the other half for Dean in case he was hungry when he woke up. Hopefully Ellen would bring more food.
Their hunger slightly sated, Sam and Jo went back to tending Dean with their limited supplies, praying for Ellen to get there soon.
A/N: I am by no means a medical expert, so I hope what Sam and Jo are doing are correct. I've never seen anyone have a seizure before, but my dog has seizures, so I based Dean's seizure on my experiences with that. My dog always lies unresponsive for a minute or two before getting up and exploring the house as though he doesn't remember it. He's always really thirsty, pants a lot, and then sleeps for a while. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Thanks again for following the story and for the reviews, they mean the world to me and motivate me to write more! The next chapter should hopefully be up in the next few days. I'm not sure how many more chapters this story will be, but don't worry, it shouldn't be much longer.