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Title: Prisoners of War 2/5
Author: *bright
Rating: Gen. R (extreme violence, language)
Spoilers: Hints from throughout the series up to 3.11 – Jus in Bello.
Character: Sam, Dean. Cameos - Ruby, Ellen, Bobby and Missouri (in order of appearance).
Category: Angst, h/c and demonic action.
Summary: The boys get hurt on a hunt; demons follow their trail to finish off the work. And Dean learns things about Sam that breaks his heart. Set between Jus in Bello and Ghostfacers.
Author's note: I just wanted to fill the void the writers' strike caused.
Words: part II - 4187
Disclaimer: Me own zip and nada, ‘cept an over-active imagination. Everything belongs to Kripke & Co.
Dean was ready to kill the bitch standing in the middle of the road. As soon as he got his heart down from his throat, he'd step out and strangle her with the shoulder leash of the bag she was carrying.
Ruby walked up to the car and jerked the driver's door open, never minding that Sam was about to fall out of the car. Steadying the unconscious man against her hips, she bent over him and reached for the handle to lower the back of the driver's seat.
“You're getting sloppy,” she remarked. “You just killed the host of an upper grade demon, probably Lilith's, but I'm not really sure who the hell that was. Grapevine's going haywire these days, you can't even keep track on who's siding with who any longer. Rumor has it she's had it with you two, so if that one was one of hers, she'll find you and kick your asses. Stupid, just stupid! I can't say you surprise me, but Sam?”
Dean was searching for a pulse on Sam's neck and didn't bother answering because what he found was too weak and thready for his liking.
“I tidied up for you,” Ruby continued. “But being that I had to torch the sucker, someone will spot the fire and you'll not just have Lilith tagging you this time if we don't get this car and your asses away from here. We better get Sam in the backseat on his right side, don't like the way he's breathing. How's the pulse?”
Dean glanced up at her, hating to admit that he needed help. “All over the place.”
Ruby nodded and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, watching Sam concerned. “I got some medical equipment in the bag. I'll hook him up to an IV and get some fluids into him. You better keep an eye on his breathing.”
“Whoa! Where did you get your MD? Off the back of a cereal-box?” Looking at Sam, he knew she was right. Finally getting a good look thanks to the lamps, he realized that his brother was worse off than he had thought. The wheezing sounds of his breaths were accompanied with a reddish foam appearing at the corner of his mouth with every exhale.
“Holy hell,” Dean felt his heart miss a beat. “Damn Sammy, why didn't you tell me?” He reached out to wipe his brother chin when Ruby opened the back-door and grabbed Sam.
“You're gonna baby-sit till we get some real help. I'll get you some pain-killers when we're set. You don't look so hot but I read on the back of the cereal-box what meds you can give the evil-assed, smart-mouthed and concussed.”
The bitch told him to look out for Sammy? Like he needed to be ordered to? He resented the superior tone of voice but he knew when to pick a fight and now wasn't the time. But still, he couldn't resist snarling irritably. “Gee Sam, you're a walking attraction for the buckets of crazy!”
Ruby gripped Sam's coat by the shoulders and looked at Dean, her eyes demon black. “You jealous?”
With one smooth pull, she had Sam on his back on the back-seat, inching herself in between the seats she had him on his side, with another lift-pull before she adjusted his legs to fit on the seat. Ruby proceeded to pull of Sam's coat, exposing the damaged side and Dean felt his stomach turn into a hard knot. There wasn't too much blood, except from a few scratches, but his collarbone was broken, that much was clear from the bone sticking trough the skin and the coagulating brood around the bone-pipe. Sam's shoulder fell to the back of the seat in an odd angle and Ruby rolled the quilt they carried behind his brother, to keep him somewhat steady. Sam's hand looked mangled, like every bone in it had been crushed. Ruby draped the coat over Sam, blocking Dean's view. When she looked over her shoulder at Dean, her eyes were the normal blue-green shade.
Dean arranged himself to sit with his back to the road, his leg stretched in front of him between the back of the seats. His hand found Sam's pulse-point and he curled his fingers around the wrist, which was undoubtedly broken too. How the hell had Sam managed to even stand up?
“Open and swallow,” Ruby ordered rummaging around in her bag.
“The hell?” Dean snapped.
“Hey shortbus,” Ruby growled, “I'm not gonna go all Mommy on you too and trick you into popping these with grated apples. You're gonna hurt Sam if you remove the hand and you need the other to hold the water bottle.”
Dean hated the way she looked down her nose at him but he opened his mouth and took the offered water-bottle. Swallowing the pills with a grimace, it struck him that she might just as well be poisoning him. He wouldn't put it past her.
“You know I'm gonna have to kill you for this bossing around,” Dean snarled while watching Ruby cutting Sam's sleeve up to the elbow.
”If he starts trashing around, push this into the IV:” She handed him a filled syringe and her eyes turned black when she proceeded to insert an IV-port into Sam's vein. She taped it in place and fastened the tube to the bag and hung it on the coat-hanger before she emptied another syringe in the port and turned around to face Dean.
“I gave him a shot of adrenaline, he may wake up for a short while. I suggest you tell him whatever you need to, in case this goes south.”
“Shut up, bitch!“ Did she have to actually point out what was painfully obvious? The chick thrived on kicking him in the worst places possible. “He's fucking gonna be alright, you're just jinxing him. That right, Sammy? You're gonna help me kick her ass, won't you bro?”
Ruby was already in the driver's seat and had the engine running. When the Impala eased out on the dirt-road and picked up speed, Dean groaned. He was awkwardly draped over the seat, his knee and ribs protesting wildly at every pothole on the road. And Ruby was finding them all.
Sam's face was just a pale blotch in the dark car but Dean immediately picked up the flicker of his eyelids.
“C'mon Sammy! Nap's over and your demon-bitch is driving my baby. I'm not forgiving you for this, dude!”
Sam's eyes opened to slits, pupils dancing under the lid.
“That's my Sammy,” Dean grinned and regretted his chick-flick moment when he heard Ruby snort sarcastically.
“Dude, you're ruining my rep here.” He put the syringe and the water-bottle on the seat and reached around it to wipe the spit and snot from his brother's face. “I'm so putting this on the ever growing you-owe-me tab. And stop drooling! Remember that awful bag Dad had me carrying around? In front of - what was her name - Meredith? That fugly thing with the diapers, water-bottles and rags? I'm telling you, I wish I had it handy now coz' you're slobbering all over my baby, you big freak.”
Sam blinked and his eyes finally focused on Dean's.
“Aw, Winchester sweetness, just kill me now,” Ruby mocked and revved the engine.
Sam was convinced he needed a few screws tightened when his vision finally cleared enough for him to see he was in the Impala. Crammed up in the back-seat, Dean watching him from the passenger side. Ruby's voice had trickled in through the pounding in his head, but this? Ruby at the wheel of the Impala? Dean's shit-eating grin meeting him despite his baby being molested by a demon? Ruby, who last time they'd met up, Dean had tried to finish off permanently? This was wrong on so many accounts that he felt like the famous elevator stuck between floors.
How exactly did he get into the car? When did Ruby show up and how come Dean hadn't shot her on sight? And why was he so goddamned sore and tired? Who had stuck his arm into a meat-grinder and why was there a knife stuck into his side?
He tried to reposition himself to at least get some air but Dean's hands were there, holding him still.
“Whoa, Sam! Don't move!”
Damned if he was able to make out if Dean was kidding or not. Being cramped up like this was killing him. It wasn't like he was five and fit on the back-seat anymore. And whatever was sitting on top of him and stabbing him with the knife needed to go.
“Take it away, Dean,” he tried to ask nicely but it came out like a muffled slur.
“What?” Dean furrowed his brow, looking at him like he really was the chicken short a Sunday picnic.
Sam tried again to free his hand and get at what was pinning him down so hard he wasn't even able to breathe. Dean's hand around his wrist wouldn't let go and not one muscle was obeying him.
“I think he's hallucinating. Would you step on it already?” Dean sounded pissed off when he shot a glare over his shoulder.
“Sure, because a car like this handles so beautifully on slippery dirt-roads. Ever hear of four-wheel drives? Things like traction control?” Ruby sounded her usual self, not able to help herself, she continued jabbing at Dean. “That all you have to say to him? Your brother? You're so badly scrambled that eggs are more eloquent than you,” Ruby snorted derisively.
“Not half as badly scrambled as you'll be when I'm finished with you,” Dean promised venomously, turning his head back to Sam. “Look what you've stuck me with, dude! So getting you for this.”
“How about asking him how he is?”
Dean's hand tensed around his wrist when he moved away and lowered his voice. Sam tried to breathe through the pain
“The dude can barely breathe and is spitting blood and you want me to ask how he is? If you weren't so dense it'd be fairly obvious how he is.”
Sam closed his eyes.
“And you're too tight-assed to tell him you love him? Your own brother? What's wrong with you?”
They hit a pot-hole hard and what little air Sam had left in his lungs was pushed out. The world started spinning violently again and he tried to hold back the bile rising in his throat. The pain exploded in every cell of his body; throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat, tearing at this flesh like it had claws.
Dean cursed out loud. “Would you fucking look where you're driving, woman?”
“Oh, so I'm upgraded from bitch?”
Dean's hand was back, gripping his chin. The warmth penetrated through the blinding pain, easing it off and allowing him to pull in some air.
“Sammy, open your eyes, and please no more puking, Sammy? Don't clock out, I can see the main road. Not long now! Hey, you just can't ditch me here with this bossy bitch!”
“Good thing you told him, Dean. Kudos for spilling the beans and admitting you actually care for someone.” Ruby sounded far away but the genuine disgust was obvious.
Sam forced his eyes open and searched for Dean's. It was too dark to see and he cursed his own inadequacy. He needed to calm Dean down, get him out of the black hole he'd slipped into. Sam could tell from the tenor in his voice and the barked words. Dean needed to relax before he blew his fuses.
“I know, Dean,” Sam tried to tell his brother but had no idea what actually came out because Dean's hand twitched and he mumbled something Sam wasn't able to make out.
Sam watched the scratched up face, seeing only fractions at a time, like a puzzle. But he knew Dean was in pain and that he was falling apart. He wished he'd be able to mock his brother about cat-fights with demonic chicks. Wished he'd be able to conjure up enough of wits to say anything to alleviate the pained expression. But Dean's face kept fading out on him and the hand around the nape of his neck felt safe and strong enough for him to close his eyes. He'd rest, just for a while.
Dean kept talking to him, he wanted to understand and reply but he was just too damned tired.
His brother was out again, jaw slackened and features more relaxed as he lost consciousness and with it the sense of pain. Dean was relieved and terrified at the same time. Relieved that Sammy wasn't hurting like hell and terrified he wouldn't open his eyes again, ever.
“You're fucking killing me, Sammy!” he told his brother, wiping blood from the cold chin, yet again. “You gotta stop dying on me, my ticker can't take it.”
“He out?” Ruby asked.
“Yeah,” Dean exhaled painfully.
“Good,” Ruby stated calmly and steered up on the asphalted road. “I'm gonna put the pedal to the metal now so you better hold onto that old ticker of yours. Wouldn't want to scare the shit out of you, I may need you yet.”
Few times in his life had he been dependent on someone he hated as much as the bitch that currently drove his car. She was blatantly using them for her own needs, and the smugness that oozed from her had his fingers itch to put them around her neck and squeeze the life out of her. He'd never hit a woman in his life, but this one? This one he'd gladly send back to hell with no return-to-sender address on her ass.
“Which is the nearest hospital?” Dean asked, trying hard not to let the panic seep through the words. He went for Sam's cell-phone, ready to dial 911. Having an ambulance meet up with them was the best course of action because he feared Sam wouldn't make it much longer.
“Don't!” Ruby ordered curtly. “Put the phone away, no calling 911. You might as well shoot him yourself if you make that call.”
“You've been looking too deep into the paranoia-bottle, sweetheart?” He held the phone to his ear and waited for the operator to pick up. Ruby jerked the phone out of his hand and closed it.
“Look, the moment one of Lilith's goons see an ambulance they will put two and two together and have the grapevine sizzling. Sam will be dead within twenty-four hours, and you too. Ever think how easy it would be for one of them to possess a nurse or a Doc and take you out? And believe me, since they can't possess you, they're itching to put your carcass six feet under and that sorry excuse of a soul where it belongs.”
“Sam will be six feet under if he doesn't get help now!” Dean growled. “Or did you forget that I have no soul left to bargain with and you probably never had one to begin with.”
Ruby threw him another glance. “Sam didn't tell you, did he?”
“Tell me what?” Oh, he knew Sam was keeping things from him, he'd sensed it for a while. Dean hoped it was because Sam was fretting over the deal and avoiding to burden anybody with his own problems. That was so fucking like him. He wiped the blood from Sam's face and shuddered at how cold he was. Almost like last time, when he laid on the bed, gone.
Ruby made a turn onto a highways and the streetlights illuminated Sam's pale face.
“Didn't you ever wonder why Jake, a trained Marine had to stab Sam twice and even turn the knife before he went down? I'm telling you, one stab like that is instantly lethal. It went in through his -”.
“For fuck's sake Ruby, shut the hell up already. I was there, I know what happened!” Dean felt a wave of nausea run through him.
“And it never bothered you that Sam stayed alive that long?” Her voice sounded genuinely surprised.
Dean closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the back of the seat, not wanting to remember, never wanting to remember. “I wasn't exactly standing there, counting the seconds till Sammy died.”
“Dean, with the injuries he has now, he should already be dead.”
Dean felt bile rise to his throat and he had to go for the water-bottle. Cold sweat ran down his spine, the throbbing in his head taking on another dimension, involving every fiber in his body. He'd seen things in Sam that he'd wondered about; the coldness at the killings and the emotionless resolve. The raw strength he'd witnessed when Gordon met his fate.
“What are you not telling me?” he finally asked, not entirely sure he really wanted to know.
“Not my place to tell,” Ruby replied. “I don't even know if Sam knows, but he should. He's sharp enough to have figured out that something is off.“
Dean looked back at his brother's pale face. What Ruby didn't know was that something had always been off with Sam. Dean wondered if he had known all along and that was why he ran off to Stanford, desperately wanting to be normal. He had been an A student who moved from school to school, never having the home most kids had. Still he managed to ace every test. That had been the first alarm clock that went off for Dean, long before their father ever told him that Sam was different. Sure, the kid always had his nose in a book and seemed to pick up intel like he breathed air but still, it shouldn't have been possible. Even as a little geek he had startled Dean with what he found out all on his own. The deductions he made, even if Dean tried to shield him from knowing anything at all. He'd wanted Sam to have what he'd had until that fateful night; a childhood. And maybe his brother had known all along that he was different? Was it Dean's wish for Sam to be the normal kid that had forced Sam to seek a normalcy he'd never be able to have?
“Didn't mean to mess you up, kiddo,” he moved the silly girly bangs away from his brother's closed eyes, just in case the hair was irritating him. They had so much to do still, and so much luggage that needed sorting out.
Ruby called his name, needing his attention. “The ER is about half a mile from here. I'll try and get you fake, out of state, IDs with excellent medical insurance, so let me do the talking now. I'll clue you in when it's arranged. You're shocked because you were attacked by a bear. You don't remember anything. Gimme half-an-hour to sort things out. I'm suspecting they're gonna want to operate on our knee, looks pretty banged up to me, so you just zip it until I have things under control.”
“And you're supposed to be?”
Ruby smiled a devilish little smile. “I'll have to be Sam's wife, no? All those documents to sign and all.”
“I knew you wanted to jump his bones. All you demons have an itch to get your hands on him.”
He turned back to Sam, the pulse under his fingertips suddenly vanishing. His own heart sped up, thundering away in his chest when he leaned in closer, listening for breaths and hearing none.
“Shit Sammy, not now! We're almost there!”
Dean got up on his good knee, placed his hands on Sam ribcage and pressed twice before he pulled Sam's head back, closed his nose between his fingers and breathed for him.
The Impala's tires screamed when Ruby made a turn to the left and cursed out loud before another left turn almost threw Dean off balance. He barely had time to glare at her before he pushed at Sam's ribcage again, hearing himself self babble incoherently.
All his concentration was focused on Sam and the CPR. He counted the pushes to the heart silently, meticulously keeping the rhythm and watched for movements of the chest every time he blew air into Sam's lungs. When a horde of green and white-clad people clinched his arms and pulled him out of the car, he screamed Sam's name, fighting whomever was holding him back. He watched with absolute horror how Sam was pulled out of the car and laid on a stretcher just as he was wrestled down onto one himself. Strong hands held him down, lights were shone in his eyes and he just tried to roll to his side, wanting to see what was happening to Sam.
He heard Ruby's voice at his side, asking them questions, but nobody seemed to have answers.
Clothes were being pulled off him, fabric cut and he felt a sharp sting on the top of his hand. He tried to jerk it away and move enough to catch what was happening to his brother.
“It's his brother,” Ruby spoke. “He's all he's got left.”
When Dean heard someone say she got a pulse and that the sat was rising with 0-neg going in with a rapid infuser just before the rattle of the gurney indicated that it was being taken away, he stopped struggling.
A blond knock-out chick leaned in over him, smiling. “We'll take care of your brother. Just lay still, the anxiolytics will probably put you to sleep in a while and you're in good hands. We're just going to roll you in and have a look at your injuries.”
They took him though a corridor with blinding white lights, people all around him, someone taking his boots off while they were still rolling, the sound of scissors cutting up his favorite jeans didn't even bother him. Normally he'd be up and protesting but now all he could think about was looking for his brother.
Someone held his head up and a glass of water was pushed to his lips.
“Just rinse, I have to see where all this blood is coming from?”
That's when he tasted the salty iron and realized he had Sam's blood in his mouth. It all come rushing; the nausea, the fear and panic. He gagged into the silly bowl under his nose. Was this all he'd have left of Sam? The taste of his blood in his mouth?
He worked to swing his legs over the bed, he wouldn't lay here while his brother may be dying on him.
“Push another two of Diazepam!” The blond chick ordered while more hands held him down. His body got heavy and uncooperative. Spotting Ruby at the end of the gurney, he growled at her to get to Sam.
When she looked at him, he realized it was the first time he'd seen pure fear in the blue-greens.
Maybe there was some humanity left in her after all was his last thought before everything went black around him.
White light exploded under Sam's eyelids when his body cramped. Voices barked orders around him and something seemed stuck in his throat, pushing cold air into his lungs. Searing lights dug first into one eye then the other and it hurt like the dickens. God, he wanted away from all this, he just wanted to sleep. Check that Dean was okay and then he wanted to sink into oblivion. The world was going crazier and crazier on him, he had no control over anything right now, not even his own body. How was he supposed to get Dean off the deal like this? Last time he died it hadn't gone on for this long, and it didn't hurt this much. He should have stayed dead, he should have spared Dean.
There was probing in his mid sector and he wanted to scream.
He had stood by Dean twice, watching him fight for his life. It was something he didn't wish on anybody. He'd seen him die over and over, unable to stop it. Fucking Trickster to make his life hell. Still, managing to die in your brother's arms should be legislated against. If someone was stupid enough to let that happen, someone should put you out of your misery. Someone should put him out of his misery. He'd never really know what it had done to Dean, he just knew what Dean dying had done to him. It was hell, and he was probably putting Dean there all over. He was such a shit of a little brother, just fucking worthless.
His heartbeat dwindled down and he was floating, a sense of peace trickling in and relieving the pain. He remembered that sensation.
Someone screamed about more epi and to defribrillate before his body cramped, throwing him into a black void.