Come For You

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, or the David Cook song, or Common Law nor am I making any profit from this story.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Chapter Five: I'm Permanent

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

If Dean had any doubts about how weak he currently was, they were shattered when Dom's meaty paws slapped away his flying fist and yanked him out of the bed by his arm like he was a fifty pound grade-schooler. Toppling over the chair in the room to collide painful with the floor, he lay gasping for breath around the agony spiking from his side, had a random thought that he was glad it was just an IV and not a catheter he was just brutally discounted from.

Grabbing Dean's clothing from the closet, Dom threw them down into Dean's face. "Get dressed or I'll get that nurse back in the room and you can watch me take my anger out on her."

Not trusting Dom's threat to be hollow, Dean growled, "Alright! Alright! This doesn't involve anyone but us." Bracing his back against the leg of the overturned chair, he began drawing on his jeans. Found it a study in pain management to pull the black t-shirt over his head and Dean suspected that the hole and dark blood stain in the fabric wouldn't even draw attention in this era of ripped jeans and grunge being the new chic.

When Dom crouched down to be eye level with him, Dean refused to shirk back in fear.

Pulling his gun out of an interior pocket of his coat, Dom leveled the .45 Colt at Dean's chest. And the fact that Winchester looked so freaking calm about it, gave him some amused smirk, it pissed him off even more than he already was. But letting Dean see that he was getting to him was no way to win this fight. So he returned Dean's unruffled expression with one of his own. "You wanna be the hero you always claim to be? You wanna save people? You get on your feet right now and walk out of here without making a fuss and I won't hurt anyone but you…Well, you and your brother," he amended, felt vindicated when he saw a crack in Dean's cool façade at the threat to his little brother.

"Leave Sam outta this. I killed Michele," Dean snarled, didn't know if he had great odds against coming out on top against Dom but wanted his fellow hunter's hatred to remain fixed on him, to not wander to Sam for even an instant

But Dom's face shaded with incredulousness. "While pinned to the warehouse floor?!" Leaning closer, he coiled his hand around Dean's throat.

Dean felt a moment of déjà vu of when Michele had done the same thing, pissed him off that both hunters had the knack of cramping his ability to draw in breath. Though on a plus side, Dom didn't have claws to sink into his neck. "What can I say, I'm amazing," he bragged, though the wheezy hoarseness of his voice took some of the sharp edge off his claim.

"No, Dean, you're just a piss poor liar," Dom retorted coldly. "I know your brother killed Michele. Bad news for you is, I think turnaround's fair play. Let's see how your brother enjoys watching me kill you right in front of him. I think I'll let that pain sink in, give his guilt time to rip him apart. Take my time killing him." Then Dom commanded, "Now on your feet!" When Dean moved too slowly for his liking, he assisted that process by grabbing Dean's arm and tugging the wounded man off the ground.

Not that he wasn't grateful for Dom's aid, (and he really wasn't), but Dean didn't find standing up to be all that rewarding. Straightaway he bent over and pressed a hand to his wound to try and assuage the agony shooting through his side, had to throw a hand out to the wall to steady himself as lightheadedness joined his body's physical assault on him.

Uninterested in letting Dean adjust to the change in attitude, Dom mercilessly jammed the barrel of his gun in Dean's wounded side, growled in the man's ear, "She was better than any of us and you and your brother killed her."

From his bowed position, Dean shot a condemning glare at the incompetent hunter. "No, Dom, you killed Michele when you let her get turned into a vamp." And though he braced himself for Dom's predictable reaction, the fist slamming into his stomach still managed to drop him to his knees. Curled over in agony on the floor, head nearly resting on the ground, teeth gritted to make sure the cry of pain never escaped his throat, Dean wasn't up to caring that the barrel of Dom's gun was pressed to the back of his skull. But he could feel the black boil of rage surging in him, longed to rip Dom's throat out with his bare hands. Felt a momentary appreciativeness that he was hurt too badly to act on the Mark's murderous whispers.

But Dean realized it wasn't just Dom's murder that the Mark had in mind, it was his own too. There was a disturbing murmuring in his head that he should want Dom to kill him, that there was a world of freedom waiting for him if he did, a world without pain, a world without guilt, a world that he could rule…like he had in Hell and Purgatory. That if he just admitted he had loved being a demon, that he had found that it fit him, he wouldn't have to fight who he was anymore, didn't have to be restricted by morals, wouldn't be ripped apart by the need to be loved, could stop being ashamed of the deep seated evil inside of him and instead, let it loose, be free to show on the outside what he was on the inside. Dark Dark Dark.

Dean didn't think it was his imagination that he felt a wave of power surge through him at the thought of giving in, that his pain seemed to lessen, that his muscles felt stronger, that his head cleared, knew the words poised on his lips would push Dom into pulling the trigger and setting him on his path. All he had to do was open his mouth… 'And abandon Sam.' Because that's what he would be doing if he listened to the Mark, let himself die here, become a Knight of Hell again: He would be deserting his brother. 'I'd be forcing him to either be my jailer or my killer. Or worse yet, Sam will become one of my victims.'

And he wouldn't hold that hammer for a second time, swing it for his brother's skull, never wanted to feel all over again that spark of regret at failing to take his own brother's life. So he crammed down the Mark's scripted dialogue, spoke words that were his own, spoken more for Sam's sake than his own. "Gun fire in here might make it a little tricky for you to get out of the hospital," he counselled Dom as he sat back on his hunches, didn't wince as the gun barrel pressed harder into the back of his head. But Dean couldn't help tagging on, "Especially for a hunter with your less than awesome skills," because, come on, he had to enjoy himself a little bit. Then he waited, hoped Dom wasn't so devastated by Michele's death that he didn't mind going out in a blaze of glory running from a hundred cops surrounding the hospital. He had his answer when Dom roughly grabbed him by the arm, pulled him again to his feet and shoved him toward the closed room door.

Not entirely sure how he was going to sell it to the nurses that he was A OK to leave, Dean, nevertheless, put on his game face and opened the door. To his relief, no nurses were at their station. So with Dom at his back, his gun digging into his spine, Dean started to walk down the hallway. Only got three steps before Dom grabbed the back of his t-shirt and spun him to the right.

"Elevators are to the right, dipwad," Dom lowly snarled, giving Dean a prod in his lower back to keep moving.

Set on his new path, Dean snarked back, "Well, excuse me. I was unconscious when they wheeled me in here, didn't get the 'your exits are here' speech by the flight attendant." All the while, he concentrated on keeping his legs from crumbling under him, decided it was a safer bet to navigate the middle of the tilting hallway he was traversing.

"Always with the smart comebacks, huh, Dean. Bet you weren't laughing when Michele was going to make you her lunch, when you were stuck like a pig on that rebar, bleeding out. Were just wetting your pants, wishing against hope that your little brother would come save you from the big bad monster," Dom harshly spat in Dean's ear, shoving him around the corner, glad the bank of elevators were finally in sight. "You're nothing without your brother."

"You finally got one thing right…I am nothing without my brother," Dean candidly agreed, hoped he got a chance to tell Sam that one day. As it was, he was almost as glad as Dom to see the elevators, to know, at least, that they were leaving this floor of the hospital without casualties. But then that bad luck thing of his kicked in, had Dr. Conner turning the corner at that very moment, his eyes going wide at seeing his seriously wounded patient, not only upright, but heading for the elevators, seemingly intent on leaving.

Unknowingly putting his life on the line, the doctor stepped in front of Dean, barred his entrance to the elevator. "Whoa, whoa. No way should you be up and no way am I signing your release papers."

Dean gave a fake smile he hoped the doctor believed. "Ah, family emergency, doc. Gotta get back home, pronto. But thanks for all your help patching me up. My local MD will take over my recovery from here."

But the doctor's eyes were skipping from Dean to Dom, as if he was sensing something was rotten in the state of Denmark. 'Or, if he mistook Dom for Sam, he's trying to see the family resemblance between us,' and that thought almost made Dean laugh.

"I….I'm not comfortable with you leaving without me at least prescribing you some antibiotics and painkillers," the doctor stalled, not moving from his stanch position in front of the elevator, definitely settling on the notion that something was wrong with the situation before him.

Sensing Dom's raising anger at his back and not putting it past the hunter to simply shoot the doctor, Dean quietly muttered, "Doc, don't take this personally…" before he unleashed his right hook on the doctor, felt the Mark's glee at his outburst of violence. Then the doctor was falling and Dean seemed likely to follow suit, his equilibrium forfeited for the tactic to save the doctor. But Dom derailed his path to the hallway floor by shoving him into the opening elevator doors. Dean instead landed in a graceless heap on the elevator floor.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

His head snapping up when the interrogation room door abruptly opened, Sam wasn't expecting a county uniformed officer to enter rattling keys, felt his stomach drop at the harsh reality that he was being moved to a cell, that his get-out-of-jail-free venture had failed. That he wasn't going to see Dean, wasn't going to be at his brother's side when Dean woke up, with green eyes not black, in the ICU, in pain. Wasn't going to be there to do anything and everything to ensure the Mark didn't take over his brother, that all his sneaking around behind Dean's back with the Book of the Damned and Rowena was for nothing. He wasn't getting a cure for the Mark, not locked away in prison, wasn't even going to be around to bind Dean to the bunker if the worst happened again. Dean would be on his own, fighting the Mark, drowning in despair and guilt, his goodness slowly being suffocated by evil.

'I have to be with Dean, I have to be there for him. I have to save him this time. Not fail like all the times in the past.' Tensing as the officer approached, Sam knew what he had to do, that he had wasted enough time here, being forced apart from Dean, that no one was keeping him from his brother, not for a minute more, surely not for years.

So as the officer unlocked the cuff anchoring him to the table, Sam fisted his free hand, almost started his windup for his infamous right roundhouse when the officer announced, "You're free to go." Stunned, Sam barely noticed when he was wholly free of the cuffs, snapped out of his stupor enough to grab the officer's arm before he could walk away. "Did you bring in Dom? Did he confess?" he insistently interrogated, hated that his gut was screaming at him not to trust this good news, that things didn't usually turn out to be this easy for them.

"Patrol cornered him but he fled the scene, assaulted the officers in the process. I guess the Troopers think his guilt is now a foregone conclusion because they authorized me to set you loose," the officer supplied, pulling his arm from Sam's bruising grip.

"Wait, he fled the scene? Did they..did the officers tell him what they were arresting him for?" a bad feeling settling in Sam's gut.

"Strange you should ask. They said for murdering his girlfriend and he freaked, went all wild on them, busted one officer's nose and broke another's leg, stole the cop car, had the balls to call into dispatch to get a twenty on you."

"A twenty on me….. what about on my brother?" Sam demanded breathless, felt an onset of a panic attack at the idea of Dom going after a vulnerable, maybe still comatose Dean.

"Your brother? Who's your brother?" the officer asked, clueless to the intricacies of the case.

Not willing to waste any more time, Sam shoved his way past the officer and exited the police station at a run.

"And everything, it will surely change even if I tell you I won't go away today

Will you think that you're all alone

When no one's there to hold your hand?

And all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary rest your head

I'm permanent "

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Knowing Dean's enjoyment of pie and hoping the gift bought him a little forgiveness from his friend, Cas was pulling the takeout container from his trench coat pocket as he entered Dean's hospital room but he came up short when he found the room empty, the bedsheets on the floor and the chair overturned. Thoughtlessly dropping the pie, he rushed to the nurse's station, leaned over the counter and demanded, "Where's Dean?" At the nurse's stupor, he pointed to Dean's room, his voice rising with his worry. "The man in that room, he's not there and the chair is overturned."

"Overturned… I don't know.." the nurse stammered in confusion before an older nurse who Cas had met earlier approached, supplied to Cas, "I was going to take him down to have an MRI when he had a visitor. Your brother said it was his insurance agent, needed to talk to him about what procedures were covered by his policy before he got the MRI..but…he didn't look like any insurance agent I ever met…more like a loan shark's henchman in one of those mafia movies."

"Tattoos, shaved head…muscles?" Cas listed the characteristics that Sam had once used to describe Dom. He was running down the hallway before the nurse finished nodding her head, didn't waste time calling an elevator but burst through the stairway door and started taking the stairs two at a time. Suddenly, he truly missed his ability to simply wish himself from place to place without any physical effort, especially now when the situation was dire, when every second counted, when his arriving late could mean the loss of Dean's life, of Dean's very soul.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

As the elevator began its descent, Dom kicked Dean in the chest, his version of an 'up and at 'em' goad for Dean to get to his feet. "Up, Winchester. Show me how tough you are."

"I'm tough…just having an off day," Dean wheezed, threw a hand up to wrap around the elevator railing and used it to lever himself off the floor. But his work was almost undone when the elevator jerked a little as it settled on the main floor, forced Dean to lock his legs, brace his back against the wall of the elevator and white knuckle his grip on the railing. Then the doors were opening and Dom was using the gun as a prodding rod in his side again.

And as much as Dean wanted to give into his body's idea of blacking out, the busy hospital lobby made that option a no –go, not if he didn't want Dom to hurt more people. So he told his body to stop whining and he continued to put one foot in front of the other, suspected that he was doing a bit of a drunken stumble when a few people in the lobby gave him a suspicious look. Then the electronic doors to the outside world opened and a gust of wind blew into his face, gave him more of the oxygen his lungs were straining for. Dom apparently wasn't as much of a nature lover because he gave Dean a shove forward even as he kept a fist full of Dean's shirt to make sure the man didn't escape his sphere of control.

Dean's head was down, his eyes focused on the curb he was supposed to navigate without tripping, was probably why he ended up hearing Sam's voice before he saw him.

"Dom, let him go!" Sam harshly commanded, slowing his run until he came to a halt fifty feet from his brother and Dom. His jaw clenching in fury as Dom wrapped his arm around Dean's waist, roughly cinched his hostage tighter into his hold. Sam felt sick when a groan of pain escaped Dean's Fort Knox like defenses and his brother's face blanched further than it already was at the new abuse to his wounded side.

Pressing the barrel of his gun under Dean's chin, Dom taunted as if he was amused by Sam's demand, "Let him go …or what?" He let that hang in the air between them for a moment before he pointed out, "You don't have anyone that I care about to trade for his life, you took that last person away from me. Now I'm going to return the favor," his finger applying more pressure to the trigger, the gun barrel digging even more painfully under Dean's chin, forcing Dean to raise his head to compensate.

"Shoot him, Sam," Dean unemotionally instructed, his voice a little off due to the gun under his chin and yeah…the pain and weakness but Sam would get the point. Meeting his brother's eyes, he said again, "Shoot him." But his eyes narrowed when, instead of producing a gun, a chagrinned expression appeared on his brother's features.

"I don't…I don't have a gun," Sam uncomfortably confessed to his brother, didn't give a crap that he was giving Dom an advantage. This was between him and Dean at the moment. 'About my ineptitude,' he bitterly categorized before letting out a silent string of curses at his helplessness.

"You…you what?" Dean stammered, angry reprimand growing in his tone, eyes searing into Sam, not because his brother wasn't able to free him from Dom but because how the heck did Sam expect to protect himself from Dom without a weapon.

His brother's censure had Sam spiritedly defending himself. "I just came straight from jail, Dean! Don't know if you know this or not but they don't let you keep your weapons when you go there. And I didn't think I had time to get the Impala out of impound, find my .45 and then come see if Dom thought he might like to kill you."

Dom gave a dark chuckle, settling Dean closer to him, "I like this, you being pissed at each other 'stead of all that fake brotherly concern." He said lowly by Dean's ear, "That you'll go out with little bro all mad at you, I'm enjoying that, a lot. Least Michele and I went out on good terms."

Sam gave a scoffing snort, "Good terms? She wasn't going to trade you for Dean. Only agreed when I threatened her niece." Looking to Dean, Sam asked curiously, like they were engaged in a round of polite chit chat, "And Dean…I forget, did she ask for proof of life for him? I remember asking for proof that you were alive but I'm a little hazy…"

"Ah..that would be a no. No proof of life required," Dean supplied merrily before he gave a fake but goading chuckle, and tilted his head back to see Dom's profile. "All the crap about living happily ever after vampire style …that was just so you didn't waste her when she went vamp on you. She was gonna ditch you from the start, was content with her new fanged family but when I took them out…all she had left was you, she had to settle for you. Yeah, her and I had a great little chat while she decided if she wanted to eat me or turn me. Guess you weren't man enough for her, wanted me to be her forever-after dude."

"Shut your mouth!" Dom thundered. Forgetting about Sam in his rage, and blinded by the need to inflict pain on Dean, he yanked the gun from under Dean's chin, brought the butt down onto the side of Dean's head.

And Sam wasn't going to miss the opportunity Dean had made for him, was going to tackle Dom and Dean…when another pair of voices entered the scene.

"Hold it right there!" Wes shouted, gun pointed at Dom's head as he and Travis joined the hostage negotiation.

Sam cursed viciously as the gun was now back under his brother's chin, his window to take out Dom having vanished right before his eyes.

Dean matched Sam curse for curse under his breath before he eyed up the newcomers. "Great, Hansel and Gretel are here. Finally followed the bread crumbs. That'll be impressive…if you weren't like two days too late."

Ignoring the hostage's strange hostility toward them, Travis directed at Dom, "Put your weapon down!"

"No, not happening," Dom drawled, his eyes leaving the cops and going back to Sam. "This morning I said that I was glad my life wasn't in your hands…well, now it's your brother's life in your hands. So what are you going to do, Sam? What are you willing to do to save him?"

"You better pray you never have to find out," Sam menacingly replied, his face a mask of unholy resolve, giving Dom a taste of the lines he would cross to keep Dean safe. Sam didn't dare look at Dean, afraid Dean would see it on his face, the truths he had been keeping from him, that his brother would somehow guess how far he would go, what he had done already to try and save him: not burning the book of the damned, asking for Rowena's help, springing Metatron from heaven's jail.

Wes tried to be the voice of reason. "Everybody just calm down. No one needs to get hurt."

"Get hurt?!" Dom incredulously repeated before he snarled, "They killed Michele!" taking out some of his fury on Dean by landing another blow to his wounded side.

At Dean's cry of pain, Sam almost charged in blind rage, would have if he knew Dom wasn't a hairsbreadth away from pulling the trigger. Left with no physical offensive moves, Sam resorted to a verbal assault. "Dean didn't kill her, I did. Me…the guy you were supposed to keep sidelined. That's all she trusted you with…keeping me occupied and you couldn't even do that right," he railed, gradually stepping closer to Dean and Dom as he talked. "You're the weak link in all this, you're the reason your girl's dead." Halting when Dom took notice of his closeness and yanked Dean back a few steps, Sam threw down his challenge. "So if you have the guts to avenge her, I'm the one you need to take out," raising his arms to his sides, making himself a target, goading Dom into exchanging the focus of his hate from Dean to him.

But Dom barked out a laugh at Sam's suggestion, dug the gun barrel harder into Dean's chin. "And what? Let Dean go?! Don't you get it yet, Sam?! He's the one I want dead most of all. All this time I was afraid that something was going on between him and Michele and now I learn that Michele was thinking of turning him into a vampire. That I wasn't good enough for her."

Sam shot Dean a pissed look for having put that thought into Dom's head. Dean gave a little shrug of apology for satisfying his need to verbally strike out at Dom earlier, a deed that was now making things harder for Sam. Changing tactics, Sam countered, "She thought Dean was a jerk. She was never gonna keep him alive. Was just going to turn him as a punishment to Dean, to me."

"No, the kicker is, Sam, that Michele didn't want you hurt by our plan and you're the one that killed her. She thought you were a hapless victim to hero worshiping your brother, that you were only in this life because your brother was. She didn't even know that I was framing you up for the murders," Dom enlightened his audience, enjoyed the stunned expressions that took over both Winchester's features at Michele's insight into their brotherly bond.

"Didn't want me hurt?! She was gonna kill my brother?!" Sam savagely hurled back, knew by too much firsthand experience that there wasn't anything that would hurt him more than losing Dean.

"In her mind, she was freeing you from Dean's hold," Dom explained, relished seeing the flicker of emotional pain in Dean's face before the other hunter could stifle his reaction. "Dean's got you so convinced that you can't make it on your own. Michele found that pitiable. Me, I just think you're a gutless wonder who can't stand up to your big brother. But I'm about to give you your freedom." Then he hissed in Dean's ear, "Any last orders for your brother, Dean?"

Dean's eyes held Sam's, for all the things he wanted to tell Sam, he didn't know which should be the last this side of being a demon again. "Sam, I…

But Sam decisively talked over Dean, his words not for his brother but for Dom. "Did you want your freedom from Michele? As much as she gave you direction, purpose, hope, loved you…she kept you in this life when you would have left it long ago." At the subtle flinch in Dom's features that spoke of a direct hit, Sam said, "Yeah, I sensed that…she probably did too. But she didn't let you go. Did you hate her for that?"

Without waiting to see the reaction his words had on Dom, Sam shifted his look to his brother, hated that Dean's eyes reflected sorrow, like Dean didn't know that Sam wasn't condemning him for doing that all but was grateful. "Did you hate her for loving you enough to fight with everything she had to keep you both alive? For knowing you better than you knew yourself, for realizing that this life….it's the only one that could fill the void in you. You don't walk away from someone that knows the real you and still sees something redeemable there, a goodness that they do all in their power to keep alive inside of you." Watching as Dean's sorrow turned to surprise as his brother understood his words were for him, Sam turned his focus back to Dom.

"Even when Michele turned, you still thought she was more righteous than you were," Sam surmised, didn't need an outward show from Dom to know he was right. Sam understood that feeling only too well because when Dean was a demon, it was him who sacrificed a human life to try and get his brother back.

Dean joined Sam's tactics, "But she wasn't in the right, Dom," his eyes on Sam, knowing that Sam was still taking his accusation flung at him while he was tied up in the bunker all black eyed as truth, thought that he condemned Sam for Lester's death when it was his hand that killed him, was Lester's decision to barter his soul away. Then he turned his head, met Dom's eyes. "She had to be stopped….just like that thing that killed your best friend had to be stopped. When they take human lives without remorse, someone has to stop them. Hunters have to stop them. That's what Sam did today. He did what you couldn't do. And hey, I get it. I do. The love you have for someone doesn't just vanish, even when that person's goodness does."

"She still had goodness in her! She still loved me!" Dom growled, hated the doubt of that conviction that was growing inside of him, that the Winchesters words were creating. And he wasn't going to listen anymore, was going to shut them up. Would silence Dean first and, if he was quick enough, then Sam. Wouldn't let them take away the only thing he had left of Michele: his belief in her love for him.

Suddenly Sam read Dom's resolve and his eyes widened in fear, knew Dom was about to make his move, was about to shoot his brother. And if Dom did that, if he killed Dean, Sam would have to face his brother as a demon or….make sure Dean simply stayed dead. Knowing that he couldn't bear either of those outcomes, Sam abandoned all tactics and, some would say all common sense, and ran straight for Dom.

At Sam's kamikaze approach, Dom knew he had to change tactics, had to kill Sam before turning the gun on Dean. Ripping the gun from under Dean's chin, he sighted it onto the charging Winchester, his finger squeezing the trigger.

And though he managed to give a weak shove to Dom's gun hand in the hopes of throwing off the other hunter's aim, Dean knew his efforts were in vain, weren't good enough, that the bullet, when it erupted from the gun, would unerringly hit Sam, would deliver a killing blow. "NO!" Dean screamed, planned to use the last of his strength to try and body slam Dom but Dom was already countering his intent, dug his fingers into his wound, sending a tsunami of agony that whited out his vision, had his legs crumbling under him.

Sam knew he wasn't going to be fast enough, that the Troopers didn't have a clear shot at Dom, not unless they didn't mind killing Dean, that Dom would pull the trigger before he could reach him. And it didn't change Sam's decision, didn't cause him to relent on his charge. He wasn't going to just quit on Dean, instead vowed with his last breath to save his brother. Even as Sam ran forward, all the while he expected to hear a gunshot, to feel a burning pain in his chest at any second…wasn't prepared to watch Dom surprisingly drop his gun and his hold on Dean, grab his head and sink to his knees with a cry of pain.

Not bothering to figure out the whys of what was happening, Sam finished his charge, tackled Dom to the ground and delivered a right cross, followed by a left. Didn't care that Dom's blood was coating his hand as he rained down another blow and another. Then he was being bodily pulled off Dom by Travis, numbly watched as Wes rolled the mostly unconscious Dom until his back and handcuffed him.

Jerking out of Travis's hold the next moment, Sam didn't go after Dom again as the Trooper feared but instead dropped down to kneel beside his brother, who was struggling to slip an elbow under his weight to lever himself upright. Latching onto Dean's elbow, Sam, instead of aiding Dean in his efforts to sit up, slid his other hand behind his brother's back and levered Dean back down to lie full out on the ground. Could tell by the way Dean was blinking up at him that his brother was fighting hard to not pass out.

"Hey, hey, you with me?" Dean heard Sam beckon from a distance and it took a herculean mental struggle to staff off unconsciousness but Sam's tone going all panicky, "Dean! Dean, don't pass out on me!" was like a jolt of adrenaline, had Dean's eyes going wide and he drew in a deep breath that brought back some clarity to his foggy brain. He met Sam's eyes with stunned confusion and overwhelming relief: they were both alive, by some miracle. Then the miracle joined them.

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas anxiously asked, coming to a crouch by Dean's other side, his hand falling on Dean's shoulder, reassured by the physical connection to his best friend.

Instead of answering, Dean asked a question of his own, "Your work?" eyes tracking to Dom, who was being roughly pulled off the ground by the Troopers.

Cas gave a non-bragging shrug. "I didn't want to do anything too unexplainable in front of all these witnesses."

"Right, unexplainable," Sam bitterly scoffed because they had passed that gate a while back. "We just talked about vampires in front of the Troopers and, of yeah, I confessed to killing Michele." Pissed at himself for the lapse, for not modify his speech, and yet the little voice in his head railed at his own rebuke, 'Excuse me for being more worried Dom would put a bullet in my brother's head than what some cops overheard.'

Wearing his determined angel face, Cas abruptly said, "Wait here," before he stood up and went to the troopers. Then in a move Dean was all too familiar with, Cas put his fingers on each cop's forehead. Whatever Cas said after that, Dean and Sam couldn't hear but then Cas was dropping his fingers and giving a civil nod to the officers, who simply blinked then continued hauling off their suspect to jail.

When Cas rejoined their twosome, Sam asked, jerking his head toward the departing Troopers, "What was that about?"

"I wiped their memories of your confession of killing Michele and any mention of vampires. As far as they are considered, you two are innocent of all wrong doing," Cas announced like it was nothing, eyes on Dean, concerned about the renewed pain he felt pouring off his friend. But sensing the brothers' silence meant something other than their humble gratitude, he looked up and, for a moment, didn't understand the twin stunned looks his action invoked from the Winchesters until he surmised their unspoken question. "You're wondering why I didn't erase the police officers memories when I arrived in town and have Sam released from jail right then."

"Ah..yeah, kinda," Sam hedged, didn't want to lay blame on Cas, especially since he had just saved the day, but the question seemed valid.

Cas gave a sigh of discontentment. "While my grace is back, it's not at the strength it once was. I would not have been able to change all the people's memories who knew you were arrested, Sam."

"No, hey, we get that," Sam readily accepted and dismissed any regret Cas had for not being able to convert a whole town into thinking he hadn't been found in a warehouse splattered with blood with a headless corpse outside and blood trails inside. "Getting my confession wiped from the two Troopers' memories right now, getting us to look innocent, that's good enough.

Dean chose that opening to chime in. "Yeah, us innocent…wow. Quite the feat. Maybe you should be my attorney next time I'm on trial, Cas." Dean shot a smirk to his brother, waiting for his objection… that came almost instantaneously.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam laughingly retorted even as Cas was trying to talk his way out of taking up Dean's suggestion.

"Dean, I don't think I understand the intricacies of the law to properly…"

"He was kidding, Cas," Sam explained, enjoyed the flash of relief in the angel's eyes. Then, reaching out, Sam squeezed Cas's shoulder. "Thanks for saving the day."

But instead of basking in Sam's gratitude, Cas' face fell and was marked with shame. "It was my job to keep Dean safe, to stay with him and I didn't do that. I am sorry, Sam."

Dean immediately jumped into the conversation to defuse any blame to Cas. "No, I sent you for coffee, Cas. You wanted to stay, alright." Knowing it wasn't just Cas he had to convince, Dean looked to Sam, explained so his brother understood the fault wasn't with Cas, "Seriously, he got all authoritative and then whinny in front of the doctor. Really embarrassing. So he wanted to stay but I made him leave, Sam."

"But Sam trusted me to make sure nothing happened to you…" Cas interjected as the brothers' gazes remained locked on each other and he began to fear Sam wouldn't forgive him this mistake. However, there wasn't blame but a twinkle of mischief in Sam's expression when he returned his attention to him.

"Cas, that wasn't a fair request. I mean, Dean's like impossible to keep out of trouble. It's not your fault he rubs people the wrong way and they want to track him down and rearrange his face," Sam allowed, fighting back a smile.

And right on time, Dean complained, "Hey! Injured guy here. Can you save your bashing until I'm at least coherent enough to think up a sparkling comeback."

"Sparkling comebacks like you used with Dom, yeah, that was helpful," Sam drawled in reprimand, because Dean pushing Dom's buttons, making the musclebound hunter want to kill him on the spot, so wasn't something Sam wanted to forgive his brother for, certainly wouldn't forget for a while.

"What? I wasn't just gonna take his crap," Dean grumbled. It was bad enough he was the hostage in the situation, the friggin' damsel in distress…again. Friggin' town sucked as far as he was concerned and he couldn't wait to put it in the Impala's rearview mirrors.

"Course you couldn't," Sam mildly conceded, because that was Dean just being Dean, fighting verbally if he couldn't fight physically, never giving up… and Sam had so missed seeing that fire in his brother, it was a welcome sight. Well, now that he knew Dean's smart mouth hadn't gotten Dean dead it was a welcome sight. And as if he needed to reassure himself Dean was alive and well in his hold, he began scanning his brother and tallying up his wounded: bruises on his paper white face, purple and green bruising and small puncture wounds on his neck courtesy of Michele's vamp claws, a small trickle of blood running from a cut on the right side of his forehead and worst of all, the hole in the t-shirt showing where the rebar had impaled his brother…a hole that was even now being rimmed in a dark liquid. "Oh crap, Dean, you're bleeding…." Found himself uncertain if he dared press on the wound to staunch the blood and risk breaking any additional stitches.

Sam's statement had Dean dropping his head down to look at his side. "Yeah, kinda felt the stitches go." Lightly pressing his hand over the wound to try and minimize the pain, which didn't work, he lifted his hand, grimaced at the blood now tacky against his palm. And he really didn't want to wipe it on his jeans because the blood stains already there were gonna be a bite to get out.

Sam almost jumped when he found someone was daring to breach their protective circle. Instinctively he threw his hand out to bar the man from touching his brother a second before it registered with him that the man was wearing a doctor's coat, had a name tag on declaring him as "Dr. Conner".

Understanding his mistake, Patrick rested back on his hunches, put his hands up placating. "Whoa, whoa! I'm here to help Dean. I'm his doctor, Patrick Conner. My guess is, you're his infamous little brother Sam."

His eyes meeting Cas' across Dean, Sam waited until the angel backed up the doctor's story with a small nod before he dropped his arm barring the doctor from Dean.

The doctor didn't waste any time. He pressed his fingers to Dean's wrist to measure his heartrate as he lifted Dean's shirt, scowled at the blood soaked bandage.

"Hey, doc, sorry about…" Dean began in apology, broke off in surprise when Dr. Conner's eyes rose to meet his and he saw a smile gracing the doctor's face.

"Popping me one in the face to save my life?" Patrick wryly said, wanted the man to know he understood his actions. Well, understood them once he picked himself off the ground, noted the drops of blood on the ground that he knew were a trail of Dean's progress from his hospital room. Then he was tearing down the stairs in pursuit of his AWOL patient only to be stopped by security at the entrance, found that he was cursed with a backstage pass to the events happening just outside the hospital doors. "I'd like to say we're even for the agony I put you through in the warehouse but I think you'd have to run me over with a car yet to even things up."

"Make that a semi-truck and we'll call it even-steven," Dean taunted back, happy at the doc's willingness to let him off the hook for the whole punching-him thing.

Patrick chuckled at his patient's ante to his offer. "Ok, well…honestly, I'm not really interested in getting even but I'll throw in an x-ray, a CT scan and more sutures to your already scheduled MRI trip just because I'm feeling generous. "

"Ah, doc, you're killing me with kindness," Dean grumbled, wasn't looking forward to any part of that medical marathon. But the doc was already looking behind him, instructing an orderly to get a stretcher. Before their space got any more crowded, Dean turned his attention to his brother, wanted to make sure Sam was ok because, it was kind of its own miracle his brother was there, wasn't still in jail, but then again, Sam was always there when he needed him.

Sam was watching the approach of the stretcher with trepidation. Yes, he knew Dean needed to be examined, that his wound needed new stitches, that Dean shouldn't walk into the hospital, heck, shouldn't walk anywhere. But knowing he was about to get pushed aside again, like he had in the warehouse, was about to get separated from Dean, like the troopers had physically done hours ago, it had his chest tightening, had his breathing coming out in a rush, his right hand fisting possessively in the front of Dean's shirt and his left clamping down hard on Dean's forearm. It was only his brother's voice that managed to break through his building panic attack.

"Sam? Hey, Sam? Sammy?!"

Eyes snapping to Dean, seeing his brother's concern for him, Sam swallowed down his panic. Last thing he needed was for Dean's big brother protective instincts to kick in like they did in the warehouse, for Dean to divert any of his strength to making sure he was ok, because he was…ok. 'Because Dean's ok, will be. The doc's not acting rushed, just proficient so Dean's gonna be just fine,' he reassured himself before he drew on his nothing-fazes-me Winchester face and loosened his hold on his brother from clingy-four-year old little brother to simply-supportive-cool-as-a-cucumber adult little brother. "Whatever tests they want to run, they're running, Dean," he deemed as law, wasn't about to let Dean sweet talk his way out of any tests, or pain meds or his hospital stay, had spent all day worrying that he was going to or even had lost his brother and he wasn't going to let any of that became reality, not when he was there to stop it, was there to force Dean into doing what was in his best interest.

It was instinctive to resist, not only any medical advice, but Sam's you're-gonna-do-what-I-tell-you-to-do-or-else tone, and Dean was going to follow standard operating procedure, until he took a hard look at his brother's worn features, noted the smudges under his brother's eyes that bespoke of missed sleep, remembered how hard Sam had gripped his arm a moment ago before getting himself back under control. Knew that he wasn't fighting the Mark alone, that Sam was waging his own battle for him unseen, that his brother was worn thin too. And today's crapstorm of Michele's vampire dating game, Dom's frame job on Sam, the cops' arresting Sam and Sam worrying about him, it had all knocked down another level of Sam's fortification. Dean refused to add another sledgehammer blow to his brother's besieged wall. He owed Sam that much.

"Did I complain? Did I say one word about not taking any test?" Dean replied as if he was insulted Sam would think such a thing of him.

"You were about to," Sam predicted then set down the law, "so don't."

"Dude, jail makes you grumpy. Next time go for a white collar crime frame up. Those cons get yoga classes and you love all the breathing, Zen, locust position chick crap," Dean joked, trying to get Sam's blood pressure down from the red zone.

But Sam was having none of it. "Jail doesn't make me grumpy, Dean! Thinking you were dead or dying all day long and then showing up here and having Dom threatening to give me a front row seat to you getting a bullet in the brain, that makes me grumpy."

The orderly chose that inopportune time to arrive with the stretcher and Dr. Conner's announced, "Ok, Dean, time to get you back inside."

But Dean dismissed the presence of the doctor, the orderly, Cas and the curious onlookers, focused fully on Sam, because though Sam had pulled on his game face, had erased any outward show of vulnerability, Dean had seen it and refused to let his brother stew in his funk while he got dragged off to be tested for stupid crap. Patting Sam on the chest, he teased, "Sammy, can I leave you alone for a few minutes without you getting arrested again? Because, if it comes down to splurging on buying pie or using my hard won funds to bail you out of jail, dude, I'm pretty undecided right now."

"Jerk," Sam laughingly shot back even as he knew Dean wouldn't just bail him out of jail. No, his big brother would stage a prison break or something even more dangerous to rescue him. But he decided to let Dean keep his tough guy reputation in front of their audience, gave his own threat instead, "Just remember what paybacks are...meaning I'm not hauling you out of here AMA."

Dr. Conner couldn't let that statement go without making his own comment. "Yeah and I gave you one free punch but the next time I see you going AWOL, I'm gonna be the one taking a swing. Now let's get you on the stretcher..." But Dean gripped the doctor's wrist, forestalled his reach for his arm, causing the man's startled eyes to snap up to his.

Looking to Sam, not his doctor, Dean declared, "Sam's got this."

A wave of warmth washed over Sam at Dean's insistence that he would only accept his help, of the trust Dean was offering him. 'Yeah, Dean I got you', he vowed silently as he and Dean worked as one to get Dean aboard the stretcher with a minimum of pain. Then before the doctor and orderly put the stretcher in motion, Sam purposefully wrapped his hand around his brother forearm, right over the Mark, and gave a reassuring squeeze, silently vowing that they'd handle the Mark together too. Reading the acknowledgment of the gesture in his brother's eyes, Sam gave a reassuring smile before he paced the stretcher, unshakably remained at his brother side, right where he was meant to be.

"I know he's living in hell every single day

And so I ask oh God is there some way for me to take his place

And when they say it's all touch and go I wish I could make it go away

But still you say

Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand?

When all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary, rest your head

I'm permanent" *

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks for reading and reviewing! A final chapter to wrap up loose ends will follow. Besides, Jody didn't get to see Dean yet!

* David Cook's song "Permanent"

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.