A/N: Hi! Sorry, haven't updated in a bit! I've been writing some Harry Potter fanfiction, and I started writing a book! Wonder if I'll actually finish it this time…
I apologise for the cliff-hanger I left you all with last time…=P
Enjoy!
Previously:
Adam's eyes widened dramatically, and he continued to scream, his muffled yells increasing in volume. It was so loud that neither of the two heard the door open on the roof, and Sam, Dean, Bobby, Jo, Ellen and the cops poured through, blocking the only safe exit.
Steve whirled around, Adam thrashing on his shoulder, shouting and reaching out his arms and his eyes found Sam and Dean. But they could not move. It was the clichéd television scene – one wrong move, and the bad guy would jump, seriously harming the victim. It wasn't a high jump, but it could still do some serious damage. With an evil smirk, and another muffled yell from Adam; Steve raised the boy above his head, and placed one foot over the edge of the motel roof.
Chapter 8 - I Guess You Can Say Things Are Getting Pretty Serious.
Dean lunged; throwing himself at them, arms reaching out in an attempt to grab Adam's outstretched hands as the youth tried to scrabble over Steve's shoulder, determined to escape from his tight hold.
Sam stood there in shock, mouth open as he thought up some way; any way to help that wouldn't involve the death of any member currently on the roof.
Ellen, Jo and Bobby simply stared at each other, tears flowing down their faces as they realised that everything had suddenly gone wrong as Steve turned around, tried to push Adam towards Dean, but his foot slipped on the edge of the roof, and the two males plummeted down onto the tarmac, tortured bellows and shrieks the only sounds heard until a large crack echoed across the skies.
XXX
The waiting room was pretty much empty; Dean was pacing up and down, up and down. Every so often, he'd stop, glance out of the door when a nurse hurried past, then he'd resume his pacing. Sam was currently slouched in the creaky, plastic chair, his hands buried in his hair, his head buried between his knees. Bobby was sipping out of a foam coffee cup, not really tasting it, but nevertheless drinking it for the sake of something to do. Jo was staring into space, Ellen's hand on her shoulder as she too, gazed into space, as if the action itself would produce the answers they so desired.
They all jumped simultaneously as a young nurse – probably just out of med school – practically ran into the room, paperwork piled in her arms as her eyes focused on each individual in the room.
"Parent or guardian of Adam Milligan?" She asked, frowning as Dean strode up to her, his jaw locked and a worried scowl plastered on his face as he growled, "Adam Winchester-"
"Sorry, sir, but it says-"
"I don't care what it says. His name is Winchester, notMilligan-"
"Dean! Will you stop creating battles, and let us just find out how Adam is, please?" Sam begged, as he joined his brother in front of the nurse. "I'm sorry, miss, but could you please tell us-"
"He's alive." She stated as everyone in the room nearly wept in relief, "But he's in a bad way, critical but stable."
"Is he awake?" Ellen questioned.
"Not at the moment, he's just come out of theatre, but he should wake up soon, hopefully some time tonight, if all goes well."
"Theatre?" Dean demanded as his eyes widened.
"Yes, he was really quite badly injured. He only survived as he landed on top of the other man, but he will be in a lot of pain when he wakes up. He has a broken arm, three broken ribs, a bruised stomach, a broken leg and numerous other cuts and bruises. His head injury was not too serious, but we're still constantly checking on him, simply as a precaution. It's a miracle he survived-"
"What about Steve?" Jo interrupted, "Did that….thing, survive? If he did…I'll kill him myself."
"Get in line, sweetheart," Dean snarled, "Me and Sammy…we'll get him first."
"Yes, Steve Carter survived. Or rather Steven Singer did."
"Steven Singer?" Dean demanded, turning curiously to Bobby, who had rapidly gone pale, all the colour instantly draining from his face.
"Stevie?" He whispered hoarsely, "But they told me…"
"He never died, Robert." A cop explained, walking through the door. "Detective Constable Thomas McGee," he introduced himself as he became the main focus of curious stares, "I was in charge of his case many years ago, when his entire family were killed under mysterious circumstances. He survived but was brought in here in critical condition. He was treated but we believe he was referred to a psychiatric institution-"
"Wait! You mean to say this guy, that complete and utter-", Dean made a frustrated noise; "They let him out when he was quite clearly not right in the head? So not right in the head, that he got hold of my little brother and nearly murdered him!"
The policeman stared wordlessly at Dean before stuttering out, "With all due respect, sir, that was down to the institution he was residing in, but from what I've managed to find out, he actually escaped just over a couple of years ago, got a job using his fake alias, and seemed quite normal until just a year ago, when he met Kate Milligan, fell in love and was all set to settle down into the family until she was killed-"
"We need to talk to you about that, actually," Sam interrupted after a nod from Dean, "Adam admitted to us that Steve killed his mum, and that he was abusive to both him and his mum."
"Steven Singer killed Kate Milligan?" The policeman stared at the men before pulling out his walkie-talkie and proceeding to explain the new revelations to his superior.
XXX
The nurse from earlier charged back into the room, panting for breath and eventually managed to gasp out, "Adam's awake…thought…let ...you…know," She sank into the chair, breathing heavily.
Pausing only for a second to shrug off the woman's unprofessional manner, they both charged down to the Intensive Care Unit where they skidded to a stop outside the swing doors and gazed in, followed shortly by a panting Bobby and Ellen and Jo; both of whom were only slightly out of breath.
They all peered in the window, where a small figure was mostly covered in various tubes and wires, a tuft of dirty blonde hair the only recognisable feature of the youth due to the battered and bruised appearance he was now showing.
Sam and Dean entered first, followed moments later by the others, as they all approached the bed – Sam moving towards Adam's left side, Dean to the right, and the others hovering awkwardly near the foot of the bed.
Dean – showing a rare moment of affection – placed his hand on top of Adam's, being overly cautious of all the wires sticking out from his little brother. He stroked some hair from Adam's forehead, and noticing a large shaved section on the side of his head. He turned curiously to Sam who muttered, "Head injury. They would have had to shave his hair off to operate."
Adam's eyes fluttered open and he groaned weakly as he glanced around the room.
"Adam? Oh, thank god, buddy! We were so worried!" Dean burst out, "Are you ok?"
Adam nodded, grimacing when the movement aggravated the head wound and many of his other injuries. "Ok," he whispered hoarsely, "Where am I?"
Dean glanced worryingly at Sam, before explaining, "You're in the hospital, you had a bad fall."
Recognition seemed to flash in Adam's eyes, and he murmured, "I remember. Is Steve…what happened to him?"
"He's alive. The nurse said he's in a bad way as he took the most impact from the fall. The cops arrived too; one of them explained some stuff to us."
"About…Steve?" Adam asked curiously, stopping when he was overcome with a coughing fit, and he graciously accepted a glass of water from Sam and groaned with relief as the ice-cold water cooled down his fiery throat.
"Yup. Turns out he's not Steve Carter, but Steven Singer," Here Adam turned his head and gazed at Bobby in confusion, "And your mom treated him after his family was killed. He got a bit obsessed with her, but was referred to a psychiatric institution but he escaped and ended up with your mom."
"I didn't know." Adam murmured, face going even paler. "I don't think…my mom never said, so I don't know…" he weakly shrugged. "Bobby?"
"I know what you're going to ask, boy. All I can say is, yes, he was my brother, but I thought he'd died when his family were attacked. I didn't know anything about him being institutionalized and I certainly didn't know he'd end up in your family. I'm sorry, Adam. If I'd of known-"
"Not your fault," Adam murmured, sleepily "His. He shouldn't have escaped. How'd his family die?"
"Papers said bear attack. I think it was a werewolf. Never got thee chance to investigate. Spent ages here waiting to see if Steven was ok." He sighed wearily, dragging his hand over his face, "I'm so sorry, boys."
"What did Adam just say, Bobby?" Sam demanded, "It wasn't your fault. There's no way you could have known what he was capable of."
"I know. Doesn't mean I still don't feel responsible." He shrugged.
"Who are they?" Adam suddenly demanded, pointing a shaking finger at Jo and Ellen. "Are they friends of Steve's?"
"God, no! Hi, kiddo, I'm Ellen, and this is my daughter, Joanna Beth-"
"Jo, momma, I told you, no full names unless I'm in trouble!" Jo snapped.
Ellen rolled his eyes, and approached Adam, placing a hand on his arm and gazing maternally at him, "I'm very sorry about everything that's happened, Adam. But if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to complain to about those idgit brothers of yours, I'll be on the other end of the phone, waiting for you."
Adam couldn't explain it, but suddenly his eyes were filled with tears and he had extreme difficulty from preventing them from overflowing and soaking his bruised cheeks. Perhaps if was because this woman that he'd never met before was being so damn nice to him, and she never even knew him. She was similar to his mom, he realised. Not in looks – his mom was small, skinny and always smiled….until Steve arrived, that is. This woman was taller, more muscled and looked as if she could be quite fierce. She was smiling at him now though, and that filled his heart with joy and relief that she'd be willing to accept him as he was, without questions or weird looks. He was proud to be a Winchester if that meant he could be with all these people. He may only be directly related to two of the people currently hovering near his bed, but the other three proved the point that blood didn't always matter, and although he could choose his friends, but not his family…he knew that if he could…he'd choose all of them to be both.
XXX
A/N: Not a particularly long chapter, I apologise! We're also near the end I think! I'm aiming for around 10 chapters, if I can think of more ideas, so not long left!
Please review! And I'd like to thank everyone that's reviewed, and added me and World's Apart to their favourites and alerts! It's amazing and means a lot, and it's great to see the same people review and also, new ones as well! So, thank you!
And when the nurse came charging into the room to tell them Adam was awake, did anyone else have the urge to shout out, "TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROOOOOLL IN THE DUNGEON! Thought you ought to know!" No? Ok, just me that's insane then =P.
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P.S. Song title I Guess You Can Say Things Are Getting Pretty Serious is by Forever the Sickest Kids.