A/N: Okay, here's a quick one shot for a great person. Merisha, this one is for you as a thank you for that great sketch you made for me that I just can't look at enough. It made the perfect cover for the story that I will start to post on Wednesday. Made my day getting that first look at something so awesome. Here's a little hurt Dean with a side of angsty Sam for you. Hope you enjoy.
To everyone else out there: check out Merisha's homepage to see a sneak peak into a scene for the fic Somewhere in the Mist. I look forward to hearing from you and don't forget to drop her a line and let her know what you think of that picture! Thanks guys. Enjoy.
Stumbling into the Eye of a Storm.
It was raining hard. The gutters were spewing water out into the sidewalk of yet another crap motel in a crap town. Water ran in rivulets along the cracked sidewalk of the motel, pooling in low spots in the parking lot and rushing into storm drains that lined the road leading out of town.
"Look Dean, I checked the laptop. There's not anything even registering on the radar that remotely looks like a hunt. No one has anything. I talked to Bobby too."
"So what, freakin demons decided to take a vacation?"
"They don't like the rain?" Sam snarked.
"Cute. Damnit, I'm climbin' the walls here. This room sucks, this motel sucks. This whole freakin town sucks! I mean, jeez, what the hell we are supposed to do, count the raindrops. Blow our brains out after infomercial overload?" He watched with disgust as the clock radio by the bed turned to read nine p.m.
"Y'know, we could relax for a while." Sam said, watching his brother pace the threadbare carpet, his features darkening as he was affected by Dean's agitation. His eyes followed his brother on his ninth trip across the room. "Dean." Dean didn't acknowledge Sam calling his name. "Dean." He tried again. "Damnit Dean, would you please sit down!?"
Dean stopped pacing and glared at his little brother. "What the hell has you so bitchy?" Dean resumed pacing again.
"Maybe the fact that I can hear the carpet screaming in pain beneath your feet? Or that you're so eager to hunt something that I'm thinking of going dark side so that you can take a shot at me!"
Dean stopped dead, his face going stormy. "Screw you Sam." Dean said with deadly menace.
"Look Dean, I'm sorry man but you were makin' me crazy here."
"So you go and turn something like that into a joke? That's low. You know you're a real piece of work Sam. Y'know what, you want peace you can have it. I'm goin' out." Dean swung his jacket up over his back and pushed his arms into the familiar leather.
"Dean wait!" Sam stood from the table and moved to stop his brother, using his long legs to beat him to the door. "Man, I'm sorry. It was stupid. I don't like the thought of you going out in this rain Dean. You can't see more than twenty feet and the car is starting to need tires pretty bad."
"Oh so now you're freakin' raggin' on my car?" Dean said, glaring at Sam from where he had blocked Dean's exit. "Move the hell outta my way Sam."
"I. Said. Move. Your. Ass. Sam."
"No man. I don't like where your head is now. I'm not… Ungh." Sam stopped with a grunt as Dean got him by the shirt collar and propelled him backwards into the motel room's front door.
"You don't like where my mind is right now, huh? You put my freakin' mind there Sammy! Now move your ass. Me and my car that needs tires are going out." Dean spun Sam away from the door and bodily sent him across the room in a stumbling bundle of lanky arms and legs. "ALONE!" Dean growled as he threw open the door to the pouring rain and slammed it loudly behind him. The wall shook and a faded picture of a field of wildflowers crashed to the floor, the glass splintering.
"DEAN!" Sam called after his brother, straightening out and working the pain out of his back from where it contacted the hard door frame. Barely ten seconds later, he heard the engine rumbling and tires spinning on wet asphalt as the Impala pulled out. "He'll go blow off some steam and come back when he's had a few beers and hustled someone out of a few bucks. He'll be okay." Sam spoke aloud, the words doing little to ease the spike of discomfort that lanced through him. He forced himself to sit back down at the table and place his hands on the keyboard of the laptop. He cleared his mind and began to look for another hunt. Maybe I haven't looked hard enough. If I find something and call him, he'll come back and we can just forget this town, that stupid fight and just move on. Man why the hell did I say that? I should have gone with him. Dean, god, I'm sorry. Please, just come back okay tonight.
Dean cranked the stereo, Metallica doing nothing to soothe his jangled nerves for the first time in his life that he could remember. Go dark side, so you can take a shot at me. Go dark side. Dean's thoughts soon blocked out the blaring music as they took on the beat of the wipers against the windshield. Go. Dark. Side. Shot. At. Me. He heard Sam's voice in his head and it was making him crazy. Dean shook his head and looked down at the stereo, cranking the music as loud as the stereo would go. He glanced up to find the neon signs of the bar coming into eyesight through the pounding rain. He applied the brakes and had to counter steer as the Impala fishtailed on the wet pavement. Maybe it is about time for new tires. He pulled into the gravel lot of the bar, a seedy little joint called Roxy's and put the car into park, the thought of a few shots and a game of pool becoming just what he needed. He took in that the lot was nearly full as he stepped from the car, popping the collar on his jacket to protect his neck from the cold rain. He swaggered through the door of the bar, intent on forgetting about his brother for a few hours.
Dean stepped from the bar four hours later and two hundred dollars richer. He realized he never even finished his first beer while he was whipping the ass of a man everyone in the bar knew to be a hustler. He was finally relaxed, having blown off the steam that was keeping him wound tight. He palmed his keys and realized that the rain had slowed to a heavy drizzle. Maybe we can get the hell outta this town and go someplace sunny. Dean's haze cleared a little as he dwelled on the word he'd used. We. He and Sam. Maybe it was time for a break. Go to Bobby's. He could work in Bobby's Salvage yard; maybe help the old man restore that Chevelle he's been driving that's four different colors. God only knows what he sees in that car. Dean got behind the wheel and fired his baby's rumbling engine. He jumped when the music came on ear splittingly loud and turned it down to a bearable level. "You'll get me to the motel won'cha girl?" Dean said, as he patted the dash and pulled the gearshift back to drive. He pulled out and turned down the road in the direction of the motel. The thought of facing his brother dulling his good mood. Dean tapped his hand in rhythm to the music feeling better that it was finally working to bring him down, probably along with the necessary venting, and started making his way the several miles back to the motel.
After a few minutes of driving he looked ahead in the still falling rain to see something on the road. He slammed on the brakes, bringing the long heavy car to a stop sideways in the road. The front tire went off the shoulder and Dean heard a hiss as the broken pavement flattened it. "Damn it!" Dean said as he got out of his car. He looked at the damage, taking in the cords that were sticking out of the shredded rubber. He pulled his flashlight and looked at what was lying in the road that he'd been forced to avoid. He couldn't tell quite what it was through the falling rain. He walked over slowly, slowing further as the object took on a human appearance. It was still. Dean felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck and he reached into his waistband, feeling for his Colt.
"Hey?" Dean called out, wondering if the person in the road was one of the many drunks that had left before he did. He moved to see the figure laying on the pavement better. Long dark hair was draped over a face he couldn't make out. The hair and clothes were sodden and Dean realized that this person had been out in the rain longer than he had. He crouched down and scrutinized the figure, not touching so as to leave no fingerprints. He wasn't that drunk.
"Hey!" He called out a little louder and was rewarded with a moan. A feminine moan. The figure stirred and Dean reached out a hand to help. "You okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" He asked her as she sat up with his assistance and brushed wet hair back from a pretty face. She had olive skin and large dark eyes. Dean helped her to her feet and she moved slightly away from him. "Hey, you need help?"
"No." She said as she squared her shoulders. "You will though, Dean." She said as her eyes turned black. She waved an arm and Dean went flying. He impacted the side of the Impala and slid to the ground, coughing as the wind was knocked from his lungs. His legs splayed out in front of him awkwardly, his back arching away from the hard metal as pain flowed through him.
"Aww, did that hurt Dean?"
"Ummm-mm. What do you want… you black eyed skank?" Dean ground out between clenched teeth as he fought to quell the pain welling up inside him. The force the demon used to hold him tight against the car intensified as she stepped closer. He hand shot out and she gripped his throat. She lifted him one handed, her demonic strength crushing any hopes he had of catching his breath. The toes of his boots barely skimmed the dirt beneath his feet.
"What do I want? Huh, let's see." She stuck the forefinger of her empty hand against her chin and looked up at the night sky as if she were thinking. "Oh, I know. I want you to see that what Sammy said all those months ago is true. You really are worthless, Dean. You see, and I do happen to know for sure, he wants to leave you. He wants to go back to being Joe College, playing b-ball with his buddies and banging the girl down the hall from his apartment. He doesn't want you. He wants White. Picket. Fence. I want you to see what he said is true, even if I made him say it." She tucked her knuckles against her lips as she held him higher, his grip on her wrist weakening as he fought for air and against the despair her words were forcing to the surface. "Oops. I guess I gave myself away." She slackened her grip enough for him to draw a rasping breath.
"Meg." He gasped out on the exhale as he drew another ragged breath.
"Oh, score one point for Deanie. My, my, you sure were mean to your baby brother back there. Drive the wedge a little deeper, why don'cha? You figure if he hates you it'll be easier for him to give up in a couple months do ya?" She tightened her hand over his throat again, raising him above her head as she straightened out her arm. He gurgled, his face going quickly to a mottled shade of red-purple. His feet began to twitch and kick feebly as he began to slowly strangle. Suddenly she launched him through the air several feet. He landed on the Impala's hood, buckling the metal as he rolled down over the nose, his head connecting hard with the shiny chrome bumper. Dean landed hard on his shoulder and hip, the broken pavement biting into his flesh in several places as it tore his jeans. He saw stars that weren't the ones trying valiantly to peek out from behind the dark clouds in the night sky as he struggled to breathe through a throat that was already closing off. He rasped and drew as much air into his lungs as his battered body would allow. The colt that he loved had skittered from his waistband after the initial impact had driven the cold metal deep into his back over his right kidney. He felt a harsh pain that was centered deep in his body.
Meg, in the body of the black haired woman, advanced on him. She stooped and grabbed a hand full of Dean's spiky hair. She jerked his head up off the pavement, his hiss of pain making glee dance like flames in her black eyes. She stared hard at him and he felt pain dance in his head as she broke through his defenses. The rain pounded down, invading his senses until he heard nothing but falling water and felt nothing but helplessness. He locked his green eyes with hers and tried to remember the words that would stop her. They swam around in the murky waters of his mind before slipping away, lost in the sound of the storm.
"That's just sad. I honestly don't get how someone as lowly and pathetic as you could've sent me back to hell once and out of my body the second time. Oops, I mean Sammy's body. And boy was that a smokin' hot body." Meg ran a small hand down over the woman's curves, a lascivious grin plastered on the once beautiful but now twisted face.
"You must…be gettin'… rusty there…skank." Dean ground out, his eyes flaring.
Meg growled low in her throat and punched Dean hard in the jaw, his head snapping to the side and leaving some of his hair grasped in her hand. Blood gushed from his mouth.
"Guh!" He cried as he fell hard to his back on the pavement. He felt blood trickle down his cheek and into his ear. Dean forced his protesting eyes open, staring up at her as she straddled him, standing straight and looking down at him as if he were a bug she was about to squish. He raised both feet and used his knees to knock her forward. She staggered, caught by surprise that he still had any fight left in him. He rolled over, biting back a groan as he forced himself to his knees before she stopped her stumble and rounded on him. "Exorcizo te, immundissime spiritus…"
She moved forward too quickly for him to counter and caught his neck in her hands. Meg jerked him forward and propelled her knee into his ribs. "Oh no you don't."
"Uhnnggh." He cried, amidst the breaking bone. She slammed him to the ground, asphalt lacerating his cheek and chin as he felt more of his lifeblood begin to mingle with the still falling rain. He curled in on himself involuntarily as she kicked him hard, hearing another bone snap even as he groaned. She smirked and toed him from his side to his back, stepping hard on his shoulder to pin him beneath her. He lay there writhing in pain as she glared down at him and ground the heel of her black boot deeper into his shoulder.
"Y'know, if you and Sammy hadn't had your little spat, you'd be with your brother right now. But I have to thank you for being the hot head I knew you were. It would have really put a damper on the fun I've had for tonight if you hadn't come out to play. Here's the best part of the evening. I'm going to let you live. Poor Sammy is going to find you like this and while you're fighting for your useless, pathetic life he's going to be all lit up with guilt and pain."
"What?" Dean gasped out, blood leaking from his mouth.
"Huh? Oh. He's going to feel guilt because of his smartass mouth and a few careless words said all because of too much time in too close quarters. You wanna know where the pain comes in?" She lifted his head again by his hair. His eyelids fluttered, blood caking one nearly shut. "The pain will come in because while you're spending your last couple months getting better, his life, his slice of that big apple pie, will be pushed away yet again. All because of his self imposed obligation to stay with your sorry ass."
"No…" Dean whispered. "Not…true…lie."
"You'll see, Deano." Meg aimed a well placed boot as she dropped his head again to impact the pavement. The boot connected and Dean's head snapped back, sending him crashing into the beckoning darkness as blood gushed from a cut that ran from his temple to his cheekbone. He was still. She nudged him again, the momentum carrying him off the edge of the shoulder and down into a ditch that ran parallel to the road. He hit bottom about five feet down. She walked to the edge to see him laying on his back in water about eight inches deep and moving swiftly. Blood mixed with the water to color the bottom of the ditch a sickening pink. His head, bleeding profusely now from the front and back, rested on a large rock. She smirked and kicked some loose gravel from the narrow shoulder onto his still form. Then she moved off to carry out the rest of her plan.
Walking over to the sleek black car, she ran a hand along the contours before stepping back. She wanted it to look like he was drunk and suicidal, not like it was the work of her kind. She wanted Sam to squirm, thinking he was responsible for his brother being so grievously injured. She wanted to watch the Winchesters break, crash and burn.
Meg stepped up to the minimally damaged Impala and looked it over, taking in the hood that had buckled under Dean's weight. She lifted a hand and the car moved, shuddering on wheels that didn't turn as she pushed it into a utility pole, leaving skid marks that looked as if he'd slammed the breaks and skidded. Next she swatted a hand and the windshield exploded, looking like a projectile had gone through from the inside. The car now faced the ditch that Dean lay in. The icing on the cake was that a crossroads was not twenty yards ahead. Meg laughed aloud and turned away from the scene, disappearing into the still falling rain.
Sam sat up in the chair with a start, trying to piece together what had woken him. He felt stiffness in his neck and shoulders from the position his relaxed body had taken as he'd slumped over the laptop at the chipped table. "Damnit." He said aloud as he raised his had to look at the silver watch that rested on his wrist. He saw one a.m. come in. Sam stood and worked the kinks out of his back. He turned and expected to see Dean asleep, flopped haphazardly on the bed, probably with his boots still on, because no doubt he was as drunk as he dared be and still drive. The bed was empty.
"Dean?" He called, turning to take in the rest of the room. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. Unease sank its claws firmly into the youngest Winchester. "Dean!" He pulled his cell phone and looked at the screen. No calls. He flipped it open and did what he should have done as soon as his brother had pulled out in a flurry of flying water and spinning tires. He called Dean. The phone rang in Sam's ear. Once. Twice. Three… He could imagine Metallica's Enter Sandman jarring Dean from whatever barstool he presently occupied. The fourth ring sounded in Sam's ear as he heard the click that signaled a connection. He heard nothing else. Not a drunken 'Hey.' Or even a 'What the hell do you want?'
He heard a moan on the other end and fear blossomed in his chest. "S-Sam-my?" Dean whispered raggedly.
"Oh God. Dean, what's goin' on?"
"Hurt." Dean groaned and coughed, a wet sound that made Sam want to be sick.
"Where are you man?" Sam said, gripping the phone so tightly he feared he might break the plastic even as he shrugged into his jacket and tucked his Berretta into his waistband. The line was silent. "DEAN!" Sam heard a noise on the other end and Dean's voice came back on.
"Okay, I'm comin' to find you. Just keep the line open okay? Dean!"
"'kay." Sam heard Dean's whispered reply. Sam heard wheezing through the line and took a small comfort in the sound. At least his brother was still breathing. Sam grabbed the med kit that they'd taken to bringing into their room with them at every stop and headed for the door. He ran to the motel office and barged through the door to find the night manager, a young woman that they had met when they first checked in five days ago, sitting behind the desk watching a TV that was mounted to the wall.
"Hey." She said, putting her feet on the floor from where they had rested on the desktop.
"I need your car."
"What? You're crazy!"
"My brother is hurt. He's out there now." Sam pulled the pistol and leveled it at her. "I need your car."
She handed over the keys. He snatched them and ran out into the parking lot, revving the engine of the Jeep ten seconds later. He was on the road and heading south when he put the phone back to his ear. "Dean? Hey man, you still with me?" He asked when he heard nothing but silence. "Dean, c'mon. Don't do this man."
"Thank God. Okay, I'm headed south of town now Dean. How far out are you?"
"Roxy's…two miles… stopped. Sammy?"
"Yeah man, I'm here."
Sam punched the gas again. The v-6 engine responded well to Sam's growing panic and the vehicle plowed ahead on the rain slick road. "No Dean. Don't you say that! Dean don't you…. I'm not accepting your apology. Not like this. Not over the damn phone, you hear me? You keep talking, damnit, but I'm not listening to you telling me you're sorry. You hear me, Dean?" Sam stepped on the gas again when he heard no response over the phone. He scoured the road ahead in the darkness for some sign. "Please…please. There she is!" Sam said with relief as the vague glint of black paint shone in the distance when the clouds finally broke to allow the waning moon to show through.
"Oh God!" Sam cried, jamming on the brakes as he came up to the car. The red Jeep lurched to a stop. The Impala was up against a utility pole, her front end dented. Sam could see that it was facing a deep ditch, glass glinting in the headlights of the pilfered vehicle as he noticed the windshield was broken out. The left front tire was shredded too. "DEAN!" Sam yelled into the still night as he flipped his cell shut. The sound of running water caught his attention and he walked to the shoulder of the road. Scuff marks in the gravel drew him forward. He cast his eyes to the ditch. "Oh God!" he breathed. "Dean! Dean, hey." Sam scrambled down the short embankment, his feet sending up a splash as he landed in water up to his shins. Dean was on his back at the bottom of the ditch. Water flowed around his unconscious brother. Dean's phone was on his chest, laying under a limp hand. Sam's own was shaking as it reached out and pulled the object from Dean's chest, pocketing it after he snapped it closed. He then fell to his knees and reached again to touch the bloody mess that was his big brother.
"Hey. Hey, Dean, wake up for me? C'mon Dean." Sam stroked Dean's blood covered cheek. "Please." Dean moaned and angled his head into Sam's hand, pain crossing his features before they went lax again. Sam pulled his phone again. He dialed 9-1-1 and listened to the dispatcher speak.
"I need help." He barked over the line. "My brother wrecked his car. He was ejected. He's unconscious and bleeding from several bad lacerations." He listened again and answered the man's question. "We're seven miles south of town along route 22. Look for a black Chevy. We're near the crossroads. My brother is in the ditch. I'm with him." He listened enough to hear the dispatcher tell him help was coming before he pocketed his phone again.
He reached out and felt his brother's pulse. It was weak, but there. Blood covered Sam's hands now from the contact with his brother. "Help's on the way man. Just hang in there. I'm not leavin' I promise." Dean was starting to shiver, his clothes soaked through and clinging like a second skin. Sam quickly pulled off his jacket and placed it over his brother. "I'm sorry man. I don't know how bad you're hurt. Can't take the chance of movin' you."
"Nnnn." Dean moaned, once again moving his head into Sam's caress.
"I take it then you're neck isn't injured." Sam muttered as he stroked Dean's cheek again. "Dean… Dean, can you hear me?" Sam watched hopefully as Dean's eyes, or rather the eye that wasn't matted shut with blood, opened to a careful slit. "That's it. Easy Dean."
"Oh, hey. Yeah. I'm here. Dean, how bad are you hurt?"
"I know. Dean I need to know if your back or neck hurt. If they don't then I can get you out of the water and get you warm."
"Not…broke." Dean whispered, his strength leaving him again as his eye slid shut.
"Dean! Hey Dean!" Sam cried, tapping Dean's cheek. "Need you to stay awake for me. I'm gonna get you out of the water."
Sam crouched close to Dean and carefully lifted his bleeding brother into his arms. Dean stifled groans to the best of his ability but still Sam heard; his heart breaking as he felt his brother shaking against his chest. "It's okay. It's okay." Sam whispered, placing his mouth against Dean's ear. Dean shuddered as Sam stood with his weight in his arms. Sam stepped forward slowly, feeling the uneven ground surface and water lapping at his legs. The water that had drenched his brother's clothing was seeping into his own and it was cold. Sam finally made it to the edge of the ditch, now hearing sirens in the distance. "Dean, I can't climb out of here with you in my arms. I'm standing at the shoulder of the road. I'm gonna put you down." Sam moved to lower Dean to the gravel shoulder but stopped when he heard Dean's gasp and felt his fist tighten in his shirt.
"No Sammy…don't go."
"I'm not going anywhere Dean. I need to get out of the ditch." Sam lowered Dean fully to the ground as gently as possible. He pulled his arms out from under his brother, still supporting his head as he climbed up onto the shoulder himself. He crouched on his knees next to Dean, who whimpered and pulled Sam closer. Sam lifted Dean against his chest again. "Shhh, shhh. Helps comin'. You hear the sirens?" They were blaring now, still slightly distant, but so loud that Sam could barely hear Dean's next words.
"Don'…leave me… Sammy." Dean said as his eyes closed again. Pain crossed his features as the rain started in his head again, the storm growing to a roar, like a hurricane.
"Shh, shh I won't. You gotta stay awake Dean. Please." Dean forced his eye open to a slit again, the other one too blood caked and swollen to respond. His mouth moved as light from the ambulance's headlights washed over them as it pulled to a stop. His next words were drowned out by the sound of doors slamming.
"Said you would." He breathed before his eye slid closed and he went limp in Sam's arms.
"What?" Sam asked, stroking Dean's cheek, and blinking back the tears in his eyes. The paramedics pried Dean from Sam's arms and the next few moments were a blur of rapidly fired words, deft fingers stopping bleeding and applying medicine and bandages and questions about what happened, why Sam moved his brother and that he couldn't ride along because of the necessity of stabilizing Dean.
The last one penetrated his haze clearly. "Yes. Hell yes I'm riding along." Sam moved to follow Dean's backboard laden stretcher up into the back of the ambulance and was stopped.
"You have to follow behind. We need the space you'll take up." The paramedic pulled the doors shut in his face. Sam stalked to the jeep and climbed inside, intent on giving the EMT a piece of his mind. He pulled out behind the ambulance and tailed it closely to town. Several minutes later the sirens died off as they pulled into the ER entrance. The ride had been uneventful, the paramedic spent the time taking Dean's vitals and making sure blood flow was stopped. Sam jumped from the Jeep and followed Dean closely through the doors. He was met with a team of Doctors and nurses and whisked away while Sam was laden with paperwork. He wrote mechanically, only paying attention to the things he knew were vital to Dean's treatment and the name on their latest fake insurance card. Passing the papers to the nurse at the station, he began to pace. His mind was racing until he was startled by the musical blare of Enter Sandman from Dean's phone. The haggard looking mother who was the only other occupant of the waiting room glared balefully at him when the baby in her arms whimpered. Sam walked quickly to the other corner as he silenced the phone by answering it.
"This is Sam."
"Sam? What are you doin' with Dean's phone?" Sam looked down at himself, inwardly cringing when he faced the prospect of explaining to Bobby why he had Dean's phone. He saw he was dappled with Dean's blood and felt nauseated. He shoved it back and spoke.
"Bobby. Am I glad to hear from you! Where the hell are you?"
"Sam, you and Dean okay? What's goin' on?"
"Uh, we're in Washington State, Southworth. Dean, he's hurt. Like ER hurt. Where are you?"
"I'm only about two hours away. I'm coming to you Sam. Dean gonna be okay?"
"I haven't… uh, I haven't heard anything yet. Hey, the Impala. It's wrapped around a utility pole on a pretty busy road about seven miles south of town. Think you could pick her up and take her to our Motel. We're staying at the Redwood Acres Lodge. Room 12."
"I'll drop her there before I come to the hospital. Wouldn't want Dean frettin' over his baby. You don't think he wrecked her do ya Sam?"
"I'm not sure Bobby. He said something to me before the ambulance showed up and I…I don't know what he went through. I have a bad feeling about this."
"We'll figure it out Sam. I'll be there in a couple hours."
"Thanks Bobby." Sam hung up the phone and resumed pacing. The words that Dean said that he didn't quite hear weighing heavily on his mind.
"Family of Dean Waterston?" someone called out as the doors opened. Sam recognized the name and stopped pacing.
"I'm Sam. Dean's brother. Our uncle is on his way."
"Is there any other family?" The matronly nurse asked with a kind voice, smiling at Sam from behind fashionable glasses.
"No. Just us and our uncle."
"Okay. Doctor Neilson is on his way out. He wants to speak with you privately about your brother before any decisions are made."
"Decisions? What decisions need to be made?" Sam asked, feeling his heart jump to his throat.
"Whether or not I call the police." A voice said from behind him and Sam turned to face a man several inches shorter than him. The doctor had a kind face topped with unruly brown hair and kind blue eyes. His tone scared Sam. He was deadly serious.
"You're brother was badly beaten. Two of his ribs are fractured. The injuries, the contusions, lacerations and other injuries that he sustained were systematically inflicted. They were the result of a very bad beating. Now, do you want to tell me what happened? Your brother had alcohol in his system but was nowhere near the level of intoxication. The paramedics said he was ejected from the car he wrecked through the windshield. It didn't happen. There are no cuts from glass, no shards, nothing. Can you tell me what happened or do I call in a forensic team?"
"I honestly don't know what happened. As far as an investigation, my brother and I are investigators." Sam pulled one of his badges from his wallet, the thin ID being one that they use on a regular basis to get into higher security situations. "We'll find out what happened ourselves. Please."
"Alright. Would you like to see him? He's groggy but we've cleaned him up. He has some deep bruising we want to keep an eye on and his knee is sprained so he'll have crutches for a couple weeks. I'd like to keep him for a day or so to make sure there are no complications from the bruising. The majority is centered over his right kidney. He also had several lacerations on his face that I called in a plastic surgeon to fix with minimal scarring."
"Thanks for that." Sam said. The doc nodded and Sam followed him to a small room. Dean was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. He knew his brother wasn't asleep by his controlled breathing. Dean was in pain and hiding it effectively from everyone but Sam. "Dean?" Sam watched as Dean cracked his lids to reveal hazy green eyes which he turned to Sam.
"You're here?" Dean asked him. Sam was confused.
"Dean, of course I'm here. Why wouldn't I be?" Pain crossed Dean's face as he began to hear the falling rain. The sound drowned out his thoughts and made him feel cut off and angry.
"You don't want to be."
"Dude, I'd rather be anywhere else." Sam said as he gestured to the stark white hospital surroundings.
Dean's eyes hardened. "Leave then." The rain turned to a storm in his mind, the anger building to hurricane force.
"What? Dean what the hell? What's goin' on with you man? Are you still pissed at me for that wise ass remark? I said I was sorry. I mean it man. It was stupid and wrong."
Dean put a hand up to his head as if it hurt. "You wanna leave." He made it a statement.
"No. I don't Dean. What the hell gave you that idea?"
"I just added it up. You've been different lately. Distant. You wanna go someplace else. Go. Don't let a couple busted ribs and a few weeks on crutches hold ya back on my behalf."
"Dean… What's up with you?" Sam asked, eyeing his brother suspiciously as Dean's hand rubbed his temple. Dean pulled his hand away and glared at his brother, his green eyes going stormy.
"Maybe I just realized I'm holding you back from your life."
"No. Dean, dude, you are my life." Sam pulled up the hard plastic chair and sat down. He pulled Dean's cell phone from his pocket and put it on thetray table beside the bed so Dean would have it if he needed it.
"Yeah right. Say anything to make the needy feel better and then go back to your daydreams of happy places."
Sam got angry, standing from the chair. "Look, I don't know where this is coming from, but the doctor told me you were beaten. You didn't get hurt by wrecking your car. Something is wrong here and I'm gonna find out what. We're gonna figure out what's happening here and then we're gonna stop it and then we're gonna have a serious talk. I called Bobby after we got here. He's gonna tow the Impala back to the motel and help me…."
"Boy, you just don't want me to have anything. No brother, no car. What's next, you gonna kick me outta the bed next to the door?" Dean growled, pushing himself up on the bed, wrapping an arm around his middle.
"I don't know what's gotten into you but I'm gonna stop it." Sam growled as he walked from the room. Dean's hands shot to his head as the rain sounds stopped abruptly, leaving him in pain. He slid down to rest on the bed on his side.
"Sammy," Dean whispered brokenly, "I don't know what's happening to me. Please don't leave. Don't leave me man. She said you would. I don't wanna believe her…" Dean cried silently, the pain in his head soon overriding his consciousness as he fell into an exhausted slumber.
Sam slammed the door of the Jeep as he climbed into it. He rammed the key home and fired the engine. Pulling out, he gunned the powerful engine and headed back to the motel. He got back to the motel just as Bobby was pulling into the lot with the Impala hooked to the cable of his blue tow truck. The car wasn't seriously damaged Sam noticed as he looked at it. The windshield was broken out along with a window, the hood was buckled across the driver's side corner and the bumper was dented and scratched. Bobby jumped from the truck and rushed over to Sam.
"I'd ask how Dean's doin' but we got bigger problems." Bobby said as he gripped Sam's shoulder.
"I'm not so sure Bobby. He's not acting right. Something's wrong."
"I know there is." Bobby turned to the car and ran his hand along the sharp curve, the "hip bone" near the side of the rear windshield. His hand came away covered in a damp yellow powder. He showed his fingers to Sam under the light of the motel's sign. "Sulfur."
"Oh God. Bobby, we have to get back to the hospital. NOW!" Sam ran for the motel office and hastily threw the keys to the Jeep at the girl he'd brandished a gun at to get them in the first place. She stared at Sam when she saw him covered in blood and scared out of his mind. She changed her mind about calling the police to report her car stolen. Sam ran back to Bobby's tow truck where he was lowering the car back to all four wheels and unhooking it after he'd put it in park. Sam climbed in the passenger seat and Bobby got behind the wheel, firing the rumbling engine of the truck. They hurried back to the hospital. Barreling down corridors and narrowly missing busy nurses and doctors, even patients walking the hall for therapy or just to ease the boredom, they rushed to Dean's room. Sam stopped in the doorway, his heart stopping as they found the room empty. "Dean?" Sam called out.
Bobby turned from the door and stopped the first person he saw. "The young man in this room, you know where he went?"
"Tests, maybe. I'll find out for you." She smiled and walked off.
Bobby turned and walked into the room to tell Sam he had someone looking into Dean's whereabouts when he heard Sam cry out. "DEAN!"
"Sam, what is it?" Bobby rushed forward and spun the young man, who was staring at his upraised hand as if it was on fire.
Sam swallowed hard, "Sulfur."
Sam's cell phone rang. He answered right away. "Dean? Where the hell are you?"
"Oh, you're close Sammy." A female voice purred over the line. "He's about as close to hell right now as he'll be until the hounds come."
"Who. The Hell. Is this?" Sam menaced over the phone.
"Think real hard. It'll come to you."
"Meg?! Where is my brother?"
"Thinking you left him. Thinking what I want him to think."
"I'll never leave Dean. Tell me where my brother is, bitch."
"Ouch. That hurts Sammy. Come to the crossroads. You just might make it in time."
"You hurt him and I'll send you back to hell in pieces." Sam growled.
"You're the one hurting him Sammy-boy. He thinks you want to leave his pathetic ass. HE thinks you want the better life. He's going to kill himself. He's so lonely right now. It's precious really. He sold his soul for you and thinks you still left him. He's got nothing left. Listen for yourself." He heard the phone moving and heard heavy breathing come over the line.
"Dean! Dean, don't listen to her. I'm not leaving. I'm coming to find you. Bobby's with me and we're coming to find you. Don't you let her win!"
"Sam, why are you telling me this? Don't lie to me. I know you're planning to leave. Ungh, My head hurts. I hear rain, so loud. Sammy. I can't be alone Sammy. Please don't leave me."
"So sad." Meg said as she came back over the line. "He's just so lost without someone to follow around. Ten minutes Sammy. The rain is making your brother fidget. His finger's getting itchy." click.
"God." Sam turned to Bobby, pocketing his cell phone. "The bitch. Meg. She took Dean. She's doing something to him, controlling him somehow. We've gotta get back to that crossroads."
Sam ran for Bobby's truck, Bobby right behind. They roared back out of town as the rain began to fall. Several minutes later they came to the crossroads, the headlights highlighting a scene that made Sam's heart stop. Dead center in the crossroads sat Dean, on his knees with a gun, his Colt Sam saw, in his right hand. His head was bowed, his fingers playing with the barrel and grip of the pearl handled chrome gun. Sam bolted from the truck as Bobby applied the brakes. He ran forward to be stopped as Meg stepped out of the darkness, in the body of the black haired woman, to put a hand on Dean's wet hair. She stroked his head and glared at Sam, her black eyes dark holes in the night.
"How good of you to come, Sam. So nice of you to tell Dean goodbye."
"Sammy?" Dean asked, his fingers stilling on the gun, as he looked at his brother. Tears streamed down Dean's face, mingling with the rain water as it came down in torrents now. Dean's empty hand shot to his temple. "So loud Sam. The storm is so loud." Dean said brokenly, rubbing at his temple. Meg stroked his head again and he looked up at her before casting suddenly hard green eyes in Sam's direction. Sam brushed his wet hair out of his eyes and watched as Dean growled low in his throat, looking past Sam to see Bobby step up to the crossroads.
"Dean, son. Put the gun down." Dean lifted it higher.
"You! You gave Sam the idea to leave me. You told him that we should stop hunting. Now he wants to leave. I wanna keep going, do something good with the last of my time. Save people. No! YOU WANT HIM TO LEAVE ME!" Dean fired the gun, aimed at Bobby.
Bobby dropped in time to avoid a bullet. Sam jumped into action, tackling Meg as she smirked. He held her down to the wet ground, his voice ringing out as he pinned her. The shock of the exorcism rite holding her prisoner. "Exorcizo te, immundissime spiritus, omnis incursio adversarii, omne phantasma, omnis legio, in nomine Domine nostri…" Sam grunted as Dean rose up and pistol whipped him, rage clouding his features. Sam jerked and stopped speaking.
"YOU JUST CAN'T LET ME HAVE ANYTHING CAN YA?" Dean shouted as the rain poured down. "SHE SAID SHE'D STAY WITH ME. SHE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME. YOU CAN'T EVEN LET ME HAVE… Uhngh!" Bobby rounded on Dean and punched him hard in the jaw, his voice finishing the exorcism as Dean fell to the ground unconscious.
" jesu Christi eradicare, et effugare ab hoc plasmate Dei. Qui cum Patre et eodum spiritu sancto vivit et ragnat Deus per omnia saecula saeculorem." Meg's shrieked and black smoke poured out of the woman's mouth as the demon was cast out. Lightening forked as the smoke rose into the sky and a disembodied shriek sounded out as the smoke exploded into a fireball. Sam flopped off the now unconscious woman and moved to lift Dean into his arms. Dean stirred and moaned, blinking against the now gently falling rain.
"Dean?" Sam said, reaching up to wipe blood from his cheek where it had dripped from the cut the whipping had opened above his ear.
"Yeah Dean. I'm here. Not leaving either."
"I know Sammy. I know." Dean whispered as his eyes slid closed. Sam and Bobby moved to get him out of the rain. Once in the truck, Sam held Dean's head against his shoulder as he called the hospital. It was going to be a long night with two Winchesters needing medical attention and a nameless woman being brought in unconscious by ambulance.
A/N: Review for me, please? I'm sorry if it seems rushed or not quite right. I'm not very good at hurting Dean, impromptu exorcisms and rain storms. A one shot is a one shot after all. Love you all.