Title: So Damn Lucky

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: A quiet night becomes a blur of destruction with no warning…this story brought to you by a happy, bouncy plot bunny. Post 2x02 ELAC

Author's note: Last chapter. :D Hope it was worth it for everyone. I certainly had fun chasing the bunny. Lol Thank you all for the fabulous reviews!

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P


Dean crawled his hands up Sam's right arm and got a grip under his shoulder. He bit his lip against the pain flaring in his stomach. "Come on, Sammy. Help us out here." Sam was dead weight. "Almost…got him. Pull harder!"

Bobby tugged on the shoulder and then reached further in to wrap his fingers around the back of Sam's belt in his pants.

At that moment the air in the hall suddenly chilled. "Aw come on!" Dean shouted angrily and then yelled in surprise when Sam was jerked in his grasp. "Bobby?"

"I don't know!" Bobby kept a firm grip in Sam's belt and felt the young man pulled again, as if something below him was trying to pull him back in. Sam was jerked harder and Bobby's grip slipped on the belt, sliding out of his grip.

"No!" Dean shouted and strained to pull backward and take his brother with him. "Sammy!"


Dean fought to hold Sam's weight. His hands slipped from his shoulder back up his arm and over the blood slicked skin until he was tightening his grip around Sam's shredded wrist. "Dammit!" The force that had hold of Sam gave another mighty pull and Dean would have gone down into the car with his brother if not for Bobby.

Bobby wrapped his arms whip like around Dean's shoulder and stopped him tumbling over the edge. He pulled Dean back up. "What the hell's down there?"

"Go get the salt and the lighter fluid." Dean ordered harshly. "I'm not leaving him there and this son of a bitch isn't gonna let us leave with him." He went to the edge and brushed off Bobby's restraining hand. "Go!"

"Dammit." Bobby watched Dean swing his legs over the side and drop down into the elevator car. He slid Dean's shotgun over the side with him. "You better not die on me, you hear me?" He turned, grabbed his shotgun and broke into a run.

Dean dropped into the car and hunched over his stomach for a minute with a groan. "Damn." He jumped when he felt something hit his back and turned to find his shotgun. "Heh. Thanks Bobby." He knelt and hovered over Sam. "Sammy?" His brother moved slightly and Dean smiled, thinking he was waking up. "That's it, buddy. Wake up now." He put a hand on Sam's arm. Sam moved again and Dean scowled. The movement wasn't right. It was more like a ragdoll being pulled.

"Sammy?" He fumbled his flashlight out of his pocket and clicked it on, playing it over his brother. "Shit!" Wires were wrapped around Sam's legs and another was snaking its way up his body toward his neck. Dean followed the wires with his light up to the destroyed mechanism. "No you don't." He brought his shotgun up and fired into it. The sound was deafening but as the rock salt penetrated into the metal, the wires seemed to lose their grip. Dean ripped them away and pulled Sam with him. He sat with his back to the wall and pulled Sam in against him, keeping the shotgun trained on the wires. He wrapped his other arm around his brother's chest and held him up.

"Ok, buddy. Anytime you wanna wake up." Dean said softly. Sam's weight against him was actually providing some much needed pressure to the wound on his stomach, lessening the pain. Sam stirred again. "Sam?"

Sam groaned and blinked his eyes open. To his dismay he wasn't out and safe; he was still in the car and he groaned again. "No. No. No."

"Hey, hey. Sam." Dean tightened his arm around him. "I'm right here, dude. Come on."

Sam startled and yelped in pain as his shoulder moved. He let his head roll to the side until he could just make out Dean's face over his right shoulder. "Dean."

"There you go." Dean smiled.

Sam dropped his head forward. "You stuck…in here…with me?"

"Nope I jumped in." Dean said ruefully and chuckled when Sam snorted.

"Dumbass." Sam said through clenched teeth.

"Takes one to know one, chief." Dean moved his arm and heard Sam hiss in pain again. "Dude, what is wrong with your shoulder?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't…I don't know. It's not dislocated." He put his head back onto his brother's shoulder and closed his eyes, breathing through it. "Can't even touch it."

"Damn." Dean moved his arm down slightly so it rested over Sam's elbow rather than his shoulder. "We're gonna get you out of here. Soon as Bobby comes back." He glanced above them. "Bastard's bones are on top of the damn car."

"Seriously?" Sam asked in surprise and shook his head. "No wonder he's so…so damn strong…in here." He coughed and moaned.

Dean had a nice up close view of his brother's neck and resisted the urge to swear. There were multiple grooves in the flesh, each of them bleeding sluggishly onto his shirt. He felt Sam stiffen as the air grew colder. "Easy, buddy."

"He shoots into you." Sam said hurriedly and used his good hand to raise the barrel of Dean's shotgun higher. "You'll only have…have a second….before he comes at you. Don't miss."

"I won't." Dean slid out from behind Sam and leaned him gently back against the wall. "You keep it together."

Sam nodded shakily. "I'm good." He cradled his left elbow to keep his arm still while his breath puffed out in front of him. "Froze me last time."

"Not this time." Dean growled and stood clear. "Not if I can help it." Dean hoped that since he was there and standing, the ghost would come for him first. Sam didn't look like he could take much more.

"You ok?" Sam asked from the floor. "Last time…I saw you, you were under…under the damn car."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Paramedics pulled me out. I'm good."

"You're bleeding." Sam nodded toward his stomach and Dean cussed.

"Ok, I got stabbed a little." Dean admitted. He shivered as the air cooled even further.

Sam laughed softly. "Stabbed a little. Nice." He worked to push himself up the wall.

"Dude, whoa. What the hell are you doing?" Dean put a hand on his good shoulder and pushed him back down. "Stay there dammit."

The spirit chose that moment to appear, shifting through the wall behind Dean. Sam's eyes widened and Dean spun, bringing the shotgun up. He fired and dispersed the ghost while rock salt rained down on the floor.

"Gotta get out of here." Sam got to his knees cradling his arm and stood unsteadily. "Dean, we need to get out."

"Dammit, Sam. We will." Dean took his elbow to steady him.

"No. Now." Sam was adamant. The spirit knew they had a weapon now and Sam knew he wouldn't make the mistake of showing himself next time. He eyed the wires stretched across the floor warily. "He can drop this thing Dean."

"Crap." Dean groaned and slapped himself for not thinking of that sooner. "Ok. Change of plan." He pulled Sam over to the door. "I'm gonna boost you up. You climb out. I'll be right behind you."

Sam nodded and reached his good arm up to the ledge. He groaned as his left shoulder shifted. "Crap."

"Just hold on another minute." Dean urged. He bent, set the shotgun aside and picked Sam's foot up, clasping his hands around the sneaker and heaved. "Dude…more salads…holy crap." He grunted with the weight and the pain that stabbed into his stomach.

Sam used his arm to pull himself up over the edge and crawled out into the hall. His shoulder screamed agony at him as he rolled and he ended on his back staring up at the ceiling as his vision greyed out.

"Sam?" Dean watched his feet roll out of the way and heard a sort of choking gasp. "Dammit." He bent to retrieve the shotgun and clamped a hand over his wound. More blood had soaked through his shirt. "Bobby's gonna be pissed at me." He slid the shotgun up onto the floor above and grabbed the edge to pull himself up. He got his shoulders out into the hall and groaned. Sam lay a couple feet away. His face was white and broken out in a sweat, no doubt from the pain of whatever was wrong with his shoulder. He kicked his feet against the wall and managed to get the rest of him out and on his back.

"No more…motels…facing the damn road." Dean groaned and grabbed the shotgun before rolling to his side and crawling over to sit next to his brother. "Sammy?" He tapped Sam's cheeks, wary of shaking him and was rewarded with a low moan.

"Dean! What the hell happened?" Bobby's shout made him jump.

Dean watched him jog down the hall toward them and rolled his eyes. "What? You'd think we can't take care of ourselves or something."

"Well past experience…" Bobby said with a smirk. "Holy hell." He dropped next to them and got his first clear look at Sam.

"Don't touch his left arm." Dean warned as Bobby reached out to him.

Bobby rested a hand on the side of Sam's face instead as he moaned again and opened his eyes. "Hey, Sam."

"Bobby." Sam said softly and smiled.

"One crispy serial killer ghost coming up." Bobby told him and turned to the bag he'd brought.

"Serial killer?" Sam asked of Dean and got a nod.

"Long story." Dean patted his good shoulder and brushed the long hair out of his brother's eyes.

Bobby went to the elevator shaft with a can of salt and upended it; letting it pour down on top of the skeleton draped over the roof of the car. It sounded like rain as it hit and scattered. "Surprised he hasn't shown back up yet."

"He did." Dean said darkly. "Gave him a face full of rock salt." As he spoke Bobby's EMF meter started to whine in his pocket. "Looks like he's back for more. Hurry up."

Bobby nodded and dropped the can, pulling out the lighter fluid. He squirted it down the shaft as well doing his best to cover the skeleton. "Balls!" Bobby shouted as he felt his right leg yanked out from under him.

"Bobby!" Dean scrambled over to him and saw wires wrapped around his ankle and creeping quickly up his leg.

"Light him up already!" Bobby yelled. He planted his left leg on the wall to stop his forward slide into the car.

Dean fumbled in his pockets and finally came up with the zippo. He spun the wheel and it sparked but didn't light. "Oh you little bastard!" He jumped as a shotgun blast went off beside him and looked up in time to see the ghost burst apart in a cloud. Sam dropped back to the floor and let the gun fall from his fingers. "Nice!" Dean spun the wheel again. The flame caught and he leaned out into the elevator shaft. "Burn in hell you son of a bitch!" He dropped the lighter and grinned as the flames caught the skeleton below and roared into life.

Bobby felt the pull on his leg vanish. He yanked it out of the shaft and hastily unwound the wires. "That's gonna leave a damn mark." He groused and pushed back until he was sitting next to Sam.

"Tell me about it." Sam said wearily.

Dean watched the bones burn for a minute more and then turned to sit with his back against the wall. "How you doin', Sammy?"

"Peachy." Sam retorted. He let his head thump into the floor. "Hospital now?" His voice was resigned. He didn't want to go but whatever was wrong with his arm wasn't something an aspirin and a good night's sleep would fix.

Bobby nodded. "Hell yes. For both of you." He glared over at Dean and the hand covering the disturbingly large blood stain on his shirt.

"Help me up." Dean let Bobby pull him to his feet. Together they got Sam to his feet and Dean pulled his arm over his shoulders. "Ok, buddy. Three flights of stairs. No big deal."

"So you say." Sam rolled his eyes and leaned heavily on Dean.

It took them twenty minutes to get out of the building with the frequent stops they had to make; for Sam when his arm was jostled or for Dean who'd lost enough blood that vertical was becoming a problem.

"You two idjits wait here. I'll bring the truck over." Bobby shook his head. "Can't leave 'em alone for five minutes." He grumbled as he jogged across the street.

Dean leaned back against the wall of the building with Sam beside him. "You holding up?"

Sam nodded but didn't manage to get his eyes open. "Want…my arm back."

Dean snorted. He got them both moving as Bobby's truck rumbled up to the curb. He pulled the passenger door open and had to half push Sam up into the seat. "Make room, dude." Dean pulled himself up into the seat and sighed as he shut the door and let his head drop back. The cab was a tight fit for the three of them.

Sam bit off a cry of pain as Bobby's elbow bumped his arm when he shifted into gear. "Ah god, Sam. I'm sorry!" Bobby watched as Sam's eyes once more rolled and he started to fall forward into the dash.

"Crap!" Dean caught him and eased him over so he was resting against his left side. He turned worried eyes to Bobby. "How fast can you drive?"

"Fast enough." Bobby hit the gas.

Dean held Sam's head up against his shoulder. "Damn I'm sorry, kiddo." He said softly.

"Now you know damn well he'd tell you it wasn't your fault." Bobby chastised him gently. "You were under a car for cryin' out loud. What the hell were you supposed to do?"

"Protect him." Dean said simply, angrily.

"You saved him. Pretty sure that counts." Bobby retorted and missed Dean's slight flinch at his choice of words.

Save him or kill him, Dad had said. Dean shook his head. "I've got you, Sammy."


Bobby staggered back into the hospital under Sam's weight. He'd draped him over one shoulder since Dean was barely walking himself. "Hey! Could use some help here!" He shouted and gratefully let the orderlies who swarmed them pull the unconscious man off his shoulder. Dean batted away several helping hands and tried to keep pace with the gurney currently holding his brother.

"Dean Singer." The doctor who'd seen them before strode into his path. "I seem to recall telling you bed rest and lots of it. You don't seem to have listened. Nurse?" He waved a hand and Dean found himself held between two strong men and being summarily lifted onto a gurney of his own.

"Hey! Lemme…where's Sam?" Dean struggled vainly. He'd lost enough blood his head was foggy and the only thought willing to stay in it at that moment was not losing Sam again.

"Dean!" Bobby took hold of his face. "Take a breath, son."

Dean stared at Bobby and tried to find calm again. "Sorry. Just…I wanna stay with him."

The doctor sighed, seeing the exchange and motioned the nurses to follow the other gurney. He tapped Bobby's arm as Dean was wheeled away. "That's the 'Sammy' he was calling for?"

"His little brother. Yeah." Bobby nodded. "You know what's good for your sanity you'll keep 'em together."

"I'm beginning to get that yes." The doctor smiled. "What happened to the other one?"

Bobby, ever fast on his feet, had a story ready. "The guy that crashed the car into their room?" The doctor nodded. "Well he obviously couldn't get at Dean but he grabbed Sam. Had him tied up in this old building across the street." He didn't have to fake the dangerous glare that overtook his face.

"I see." The doctor nodded and his eyes softened as he looked on the two brothers. "Do you know what he did to him, apart from the obvious?"

"Something's wrong with his left shoulder. We even touch it he passes out." Bobby hung back as the doctor moved to Sam. "Strangled."

"Several times from the look of these wounds." The doctor shook his head sadly. "Poor kid." He felt gently around Sam's left shoulder and frowned. "The joint is swollen but in place. Let's get him into x-ray stat. See what we're dealing with then we'll get these ligature marks cleaned up." He put a firm hand on Dean's chest when he tried to rise and follow as Sam was wheeled quickly away. "You stay."

Bobby smirked at the firm tone and no nonsense glare the man gave Dean. "Best listen to him, son."

The doctor tugged Dean's shirt up, took hold of the bandage and peeled it back from his stomach. "Been tearing up my handiwork." He turned a disapproving look on the young man. "Not amused."

"Uh…" Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair and finally gave up. He dropped back onto the bed. "Hell. I'd do it again to save him."

"Just lie back please." The doctor looked over to Bobby and smiled. "You should probably have a seat out in the waiting area."

Bobby growled but took the hint and went out. He'd only be in the way he knew but he didn't have to like it. He found a chair and dragged it close to the doors, sat down and let his head rest on the wall behind him and closed his eyes. "One hell of a damn night."

He jerked upright at the touch on his arm and found the doctor standing over him with a smile. "Mr. Singer."

Bobby rubbed a hand over his eyes and looked up. "How long was I out?"

"It's been about an hour, give or take. I'm Doctor Nelson by the way." He sat beside Bobby. "Dean is fine. I've redone his stitches. He's lucky he didn't need another transfusion."

"What about Sam?" Bobby leaned forward and caught the frown on the doctor's face.

"That was a little more complicated." Doctor Nelson leaned back. "His shoulder was dislocated during the crash. He woke up enough at one point to tell us that." He sighed. "Probably when the car initially hit him. I'm guessing the impact with the wall that knocked him out popped his shoulder back in to place. The problem is that when it did, it caught the Brachial Plexus inside the joint."

"Brachi-what?" Bobby was more familiar than most with medical jargon, a hazard of Hunting, but that was a new one.

"It's the bundle of nerves that controls the shoulder, arm, forearm and hand." Doctor Nelson pointed to an area just under the shoulder joint. "It was pinched, if you like, inside the joint causing him extreme pain every time he tried to move his arm. We had to re-dislocate his shoulder and go in surgically to pull it out."

"Balls." Bobby breathed. "But he's ok? His arm I mean? He can use it now?"

"He should be fine. We'll know more tomorrow once the swelling has gone down." Doctor Nelson smiled. "It was a minor procedure. He probably won't even have a scar from the incision. His other injuries were much easier. A minor concussion which we'll keep an eye on him for overnight but really there's no worry there and the wounds on his wrists, ankles and neck." He scowled. "The man who did this to him. He won't be coming after him again I hope?"

Bobby shook his head firmly. "No way."

"Good. I'll take you back to them if you like." The doctor smiled now. "I took your advice and put them in the same room. Come on." He stood and led Bobby down the hall.

Dean rolled off his bed and wheeled the IV stand with him over to his brother's. Sam was twitching in the bed and let out something that sounded close to a whimper. His left arm was cocooned in a sling and strapped to his chest to protect it from movement. Bandages wrapped both of his wrists and around his throat and the white only emphasized how pale he was and how dark the shadows under his eyes were.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean slid a hand across his forehead and brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. "Sam. Wake up." Doctor Nelson had told him everything, most of which he even understood. The gist being that Sam's left arm was toast for a week at least; the mother of all dislocations. He was supposed to let him sleep but there was no way he was letting a psycho ghost haunt him even in his sleep. "Sammy."

Sam thrashed once and then jerked upright suddenly, nearly colliding with him. "Dean!"

"Easy, buddy!" Dean grabbed his good shoulder. "It's alright. You're alright. We're in the hospital."

Sam was panting for breath and could still feel the close air of the elevator car and the wires tightening around his throat. He raised his good hand to his neck. "Crap."

"Don't play with it." Dean pulled his hand away from his neck. "You're good and serial ghost is toast." He smiled.

Sam nodded, feeling the panic begin to recede. He let his head fall forward to thump into Dean's chest. "Thought you were dying under that car."

Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and didn't push him away or make fun of him. He figured after the night he'd had, Sam had earned a minor chick flick moment. "You got help. I'm good." He squeezed the back of his brother's neck reassuringly. "Doc was kinda pissed at me for popping his stitches all over the place."

Sam nodded again into his chest and decided he just didn't have the energy to raise his head. "Can't 'member if he told me…earlier. M'I gonna lose my arm?"

Dean chuckled. "No such luck. I don't get to make one armed bandit jokes." He patted Sam's back. "Sadly. I was looking forward to that dammit."

Sam snorted softly. He felt the artificial lassitude of pain killers creeping up on him again and didn't fight it. He was exhausted.

Dean felt him grow heavier and sighed. "Dude. No sleeping on the invalid."

"I'm'a invalid." Sam muttered sleepily into his brother's shirt.

Dean laughed softly. "Ok, come on sasquatch." He gently supported Sam back until he was lying on the pillows once again. He patted Sam's chest and sat on the edge of the bed as he drifted back to sleep.

"I'm going to have your brain dissected for physical signs of inability to follow a doctor's orders."

Dean jumped and turned to see Doctor Nelson and Bobby come into the room. He grinned sheepishly. "I'm in bed."

"Your bed please." Doctor Nelson rolled his eyes.

"I will." Dean gave Bobby a nod but didn't move. He kept his hand on Sam's good shoulder. "Soon as he's good and asleep." As if to prove his point, Sam twitched and muttered his brother's name in his sleep. "Easy. Right here, Sammy."

Doctor Nelson sighed and shrugged. "At least lay down next to him then so you're not putting undue stress on your wound."

Dean rolled his own eyes but nodded. He nudged Sam over a little and stretched out beside him, leaning up against the wall. "Shut up, Bobby."

Bobby grinned. "Aww, I'm gonna go get my camera." He patted Dean's knee. "You boys haven't looked this cute since you were toddlers."

"Dude, I will hurt you." Dean warned and Bobby laughed. "Bite me."

"We should let them rest." Doctor Nelson smothered his own laughter and smiled before leaving.

"You boys get some sleep and I'll be back in the morning." Bobby looked them over and took a deep breath, smiling. "Try not to get run over while I'm gone."

Dean chuckled as he left. He leaned his head back onto the wall and rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Night, Sammy." Save him, Dean thought, every damn time.


The End.