AN: As promised, next chapter... let's see what happened to Dean. Sorry for leaving him like that earlier.
***SPN***
Sam knotted up his last makeshift bandage, leaving Mary to finish, and got up from his crouch to walk the few steps to Cassie. She had her back leaning on the ballustrade that her daughter was clinging to as she watched what was unfolding in the dust below.
"Come on, Dean," Cadie was repeating like a mantra.
Sam smiled briefly before bending down to offer Cassie a helping hand up. On her feet, Cassie swayed slightly and Sam put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
"Dizzy?" He asked.
"It's alright. Passed already." Cassie looked up at the younger Winchester brother. "Did she call you?" Sam nodded.
"She did. And she's keeping us busy." Sam chuckled and Cassie joined in. But before she could reply, Cadie screamed.
"Dean! NO! Leave him alone you ugly pidgeon!"
In no time both Sam and Cassie were at the ballustrade, Mary not far behind. Immediately Sam saw why Cadie was screaming. The Griffin was nose diving at his brother, who was keeping his position, the golden gleam of the spear reflecting in the light.
"Dean!" Sam's voice boomed across the open just when the bird and his brother collided on the ground, stirring up yet another cloud of dust. Not waiting for it to clear, Sam raced towards the staircase, taking three steps at the time. Reaching the bottom, he ignored the Jeep and instead sprinted the 200 yards to where the dust lifted from the unmoving form of the fallen monster.
As he approached the scene, he heard the still running engine of the bike coming from behind the mountain of blue and green feathers. Please don't let Dean be under that monster, Sam thought as he rounded the downed bird. The breath he hadn't realized he'd held escaped him when his brother's prone form materialized a good few yards from the oppressing weight of the Griffin.
"Dean," Sam called again, jogging the last few steps before falling to his knees next to him. "Hey, Dean," he repreated, gently shaking his shoulder. The older Winchester didn't move, but Sam's eyes were glued on the steady rise and fall of Dean's torso. As long as his brother was breathing, they could deal with things.
A noise to Sam's left tore his gaze off his dust covered brother. A shudder ran through the massive body of the Griffin, one orange eye half opened. Before Sam had the chance to consider what it meant, Mary appeared to forcefully shove the protruding haft of the lance even further into the creature's body. Then she withdrew the bloodied weapon. Her eyes met Sam's when she kneeled down on the other side of her son.
"How's he?" Mary's voice was gentle when she ran the tips of her fingers along Dean's stubbled, dirty cheek.
"He's breathing," Sam shrugged. "He's probably gonna feel like a semi hit him."
"Well, that will need stitches," Mary nodded her head at where Sam's hand rested on Dean's shoulder. Looking down, Sam lifted his hand to inspect it. It came away crimson and only now Sam noticed the blood welling up from a gash that ran from Dean's elbow up to his shoulder.
"Damn, those claws really sliced him good," he muttered, pulling off his plaid shirt to temporary dress his brother's wound. Mary offered her belt and Sam gratefully took it to tighten around Dean's shoulder to slow the blood flow to the left arm.
Mary had noticed a small darkened area in the dirt underneath Dean's right temple and carefully turned his head to reveal a slow bleeding abrasion. Sam had watched her ministrations and sighed.
"He must have dragged his head on the ground. Look at all the dirt in the wound."
"Yeah, he'll love cleaning that out," Mary replied, peeling open an eyelid to check her son's pupils. "He took a solid knock to the head, too."
"Concussion number 877," Sam grumbled. "Let's get the Jeep here. I don't think he needs to be carried back to the car. His ass is heavy."
"No need," Cassie's voice floated over as she stepped around the Griffin with trepidation. Were they sure that thing was really dead? Cadie was right at her side, her eyes narrowing when she took in Dean's battered form. "I brought the Jeep up here. I had a feeling he wouldn't be walking back to the tower on his own two feet after that collision."
A tiny smile tugged on Sam's lips as he ran his hands all over Dean's body to make sure there weren't any more injuries that they missed. By now he knew what Dean had seen in Cassie. Then he scooped up his brother bridal style, making sure his head was tucked against the crook of his neck and carried him the few steps to the Jeep. With Mary's help he wrestled the hunter into the back seat where Cassie squeezed in as well to keep an eye on him.
Sam slid behind the wheel while Mary and Cadie shared shotgun. Driving slowly across the jagged ground towards the paved road at the Needle, Sam stopped short when he saw the blue and red flashing lights of a police car ahead.
"Damn," he muttered. "If they stop us they're gonna ask what happened to Dean. Is there a detour, Cassie?"
"Um, yeah... I think. Turn around and head towards the outskirts of that forest over there," Cassie pointed across Sam's shoulder. "There's a farm road at the southern edge that'll bring you over to next town."
"Right. Let's go."
***spn***
Sam was cleaning Dean's stitched up arm one more time before applying some gauze and bandaging it up. Mary held out a cotton ball drenched in hydrogen peroxide that Cassie had stashed in her medicine box to Sam who used it to dab around the head abrasion. Dean grunted and tried to pull away, eyelids fluttering as he attempted to regain consciousness. Placing his left hand on his brother's sternum seemed to calm Dean down and allowed Sam to continue his ministrations.
"You're a butcher," Dean mumbled barely intelligible.
"Yeah, I think you'll live. You awake, Dean?" Sam tossed the bloodied and dirty ball in the trash and grabbed some more gauze, but Dean cracked open his eyes and swatted his hand away.
"I wou'n't be if your bedside mann'rs were mo' refined," was the growled response.
"You're welcome," Sam said pointedly. Mary smirked briefly at her sons' antics.
"Well, Sam, looks like you can handle your brother. I think I'll go help Cassie clean the Jeep. Someone left a bloody mess there." She patted Sam on the back and left, while Dean started to sit up.
"Whoa... take it easy, dude," Sam exclaimed as Dean screwed his eyes shut, lifting his hands to hold his head. His world tilted precariously in tandem with a vicious pounding in his head. A pained groan told Sam his brother had noticed the stitched up arm. Before Sam could remark on it, however, whatever color had been left in Dean's face, drained quickly to be replaced by a sickly shade of green. All senses on alert, Sam grabbed to bucket and thrust it in Dean's arms just in time. When Dean was done puking up his soul, as Cadie had put it, Sam had next to no resistance in getting him to lay down once more.
"C'ncuss'on?" Dean mumbled tonelessly.
"Number 877. Does it surprise you?"
"N't re'lly," was the slurred reply. "You get th' numb'r of th' truck?"
"Sure, Dean," Sam huffed, patting Dean's hand affectionally. "It was blue and green, with feathers. And it's very dead now."
Dean stifled a snort as he processed the information. For a moment it was quiet. Then Dean seemed to remember something.
"Cassie?" He asked, struggling to sit up again, but Sam wouldn't allow it.
"She's fine. She's unharmed," Sam reassured his big brother.
" 'kay," Dean sighed. "And that other dude?"
"Sent an anonymous tip to the police," Sam supplied.
"P'lice?" Dean wrinkled his forehead. "Why?"
"They were snooping around," Cadie chimed in. "Way cool."
"An' the Griff'n?"
"Still have to take care of that. You were priority, Dean," Sam replied.
"What 'f the cops find it? Wasn't that far 'way from tow'r," Dean frowned and hissed, when his head wound complained. "Damn 't," he muttered.
"Dean, that thing is so big and heavy, they can't just load it up and take it away. And when they come with heavy equipment in the morning, they'll find a smoldering pile of ash."
Dean grunted in acceptance, fingers absently picking on the bandaged arm.
"Hey, quit that," Sam admonished him.
"You're n't my mother, Sammy," Dean scowled but actually complied. Cadie laughed.
"You two are funny," she giggled and sat next to Dean, pointing at his arm. "Does that hurt?"
Dean slowly turned his head to look at her. When she saw her pointing at his arm he blinked and offered her a lopsided smile. "Jus' tickles, kiddo."
Cadie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. I watched Sam poke that needle through your skin. Looked like he was darning socks."
"Hey," Sam protested, offended. "I'm stitching up wounds better than some real docs, so don't come compare it to darning. I might just darn your socks together."
"Are you threatening my girl?" Cassie's voice made all three look up. Contrary to her words, her face was smiling, as was Mary who appeared behind her.
"Hey mommy," Cadie smiled. "Sam was just bragging about his stitching skills."
"As a matter of fact," Mary chimed in, "what I saw he has every right to brag. His stitches are damn neat." At her words Sam actually blushed slightly.
"Yeah, well, Dean's are even neater. He's had a lot more practise," Sam admitted.
"Sam's a butcher," Dean growled with a twinkle in his eyes. Sam opened his mouth to object, but Dean continued. "But... he's my favorite butcher. Would pick him over the finest doc in the country any day."
"Err, Dean," Sam countered. "You sure that isn't because we can't really go to a real doc?"
"Nope. But for your bedside manners, you're pretty damn good."
"Jerk," Sam muttered before grinning at his brother.
"Bit..."
"Dean!" Cassie interrupted the man, gesturing towards her daughter. "There are kids around."
"...ch," Dean finished and then smirked at Cassie. "I'm pretty sure she knows worse, don'tcha, princess?" He winked at Cadie, who returned the gesture. Cassie shook her head, acting exasperated.
"Now I remember why I decided against tagging along, back then. This blooming Winchester stubbornness."
AN2: One more chapter coming up... this weekend. Reviews are still very welcome