And the Ground Shook (21/22)
May. 17th, 2007 07:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sams1raCharacters: Hurt!Dean, John, Sam.
Comments: Are loved and coveted. Seriously, you'll get cookies.
And the Ground Shook
Chapter Twenty One – Rebuild
"Dean? You with me, kiddo?" John asked urgently. A whimper was his only answer, but for the moment, it was enough. John ran his hands over his son's body, trying to figure out if Dean was hurt. He pushed Dean's shirt up and felt a lump of tears stuck in his throat, choking him.
The Leech was gone.
John hesitated a moment longer, before reaching for the scepter. He touched it gingerly, quickly pulling his hand away, but nothing happened. He touched it again. Still nothing. He turned it over in his hands, studying it. Nothing. So he put it back in its place. The Leech was gone now, no reason to take the scepter away from the symbols protecting it, if there was even anything left to protect.
He slipped one arm under Dean's knees, the other under his head, and lifted him, cursing, because Dean may have lost weight recently, but he was still damn heavy. It didn’t matter though. John needed to get his son to safety, and nothing was going to stop him.
Half way back to the car Dean started stirring, and John put him down, bringing the bottle of water to his son's lips and coaxing him to take a small sip. Dean coughed, opening his eyes half-mast as he took inventory of himself.
He hurt everywhere, but the pain was fading. There was something missing though. Dean's lost something, and now there was this hollowness, this emptiness inside him. He forced his eyes open, looking around, and recognized nothing.
"Dad?" Dean asked hesitantly, hoarsely, and started coughing. He grimaced at the pain in his chest.
"Dean? Are you okay? How are you feeling?" John asked worriedly. Dean licked his lips, tried to moisten his dry mouth.
"What happened?" he asked in a weak, gravelly voice he didn’t recognize as his own. Everything was different, yet somehow familiar. He'd been here before, or at least he thought he had. This looked like the tunnel they passed through on their way to the scepter. Only it was darker now. It didn’t send his senses on edge anymore. He couldn’t feel the power he had felt before.
Maybe it was nothing.
Or maybe, by touching the scepter, by taking it from its place, he had released something… Dean's heart started racing. "Did we let something out?" he asked anxiously, trying to prop himself up on his elbows, "Is it a demon?" John pushed him back down.
"Stay down, son. You need to rest."
"No. No, I'm okay." Dean said, but then the world got all smudgy again, and he was really getting tired of it doing that. "What happened, Dad? What did we do?" he insisted. Something was wrong, something was missing. Everything felt… different. There was this feeling, down in his gut, that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. John stroked his cheek gently with him thumb.
"Nothing, buddy. Bobby was just being paranoid. We left the scepter where we found it. Apparently, we didn’t need to take it away for it to work." John said, "It's still protected, Dean, it's okay. You need to rest now." He added. Dean closed his eyes for a second, before opening them again. There was no sign of supernatural activity. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything.
"Are you sure?" Dean pushed. "You sure I didn’t activate it or something? That I didn’t…"
"I'm sure." John stopped him. "I'm sure." He repeated. "You just… you got it." John said, scratching his beard, "I guess the Leech was more literal than we thought." He suggested, "The deal was for you to get that scepter for the witch. And you did, you got it. It's done." Dean blinked owlishly at his father for a long moment, before scrambling his shirt up and trying to take a look at his chest. All he managed to do was make himself dizzy.
"It's gone?" he asked, making sure. John gave him a small smile, which died on his lips as Dean frowned.
"What's wrong?" the older hunter asked. Dean shook his head slightly, closing his eyes again. Something was still wrong. Something was missing. It felt like someone had reached inside him and… "Dean?" John sounded worried.
For a moment, Dean just lay there on the cold ground. Why? He couldn’t help but wonder, why would she do that? What did she get by doing this? Did she somehow get it for herself? Whatever it is, was, that made him able to feel those things, sense the supernatural, did this thing enable her to get that for herself?
That was one hell of a price to pay. Everything he was, his hunting skills, his everyday decisions, they all depended on that gut feeling he had, that freaky sixth sense that told him it's safe or there's something here or Sammy's in danger. It was gone now. And it left him hollow and cold inside.
But it was okay, he figured. It's the price he had to pay to keep his brother safe, the price he had to pay to make sure he would still be there to take care of his little brother, to protect him. A price he paid for his family, and he will never regret that.
This hollow feeling inside, the pain of losing something that's always been there, it didn’t matter. His family was safe now, and as long as he had his family, he had something to fill that emptiness with. As long as he had Sam and his Dad with him, it wouldn’t hurt.
"Dean? What is it?" his father repeated. Dean turned on his side, trying to prop himself up to an awkward sitting position.
"Nothing." Dean said, wincing. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted. "We have anymore water?" he asked. John was quick to find the water bottle, intending to hold it to his son's lips, but Dean just took the bottle away from him with a shaky hand. "I got it." He said, taking a few tiny sips, before trying to get to his feet.
"Whoa, wait a minute young man," John tried to stop him, but Dean just used the rocky wall to push himself to his feet.
"'M okay." He said, forcing his eyes to stay open. The pain was fading slowly, but so was consciousness. Dean felt tired and heavy. "I can do it. Walk." He said, raising a hand to stop his father's protest. "I really don’t think I can climb up though." He added. "That way, right?" Dean pointed and started walking on wobbly feet. John just sighed, shaking his head, and followed his stubborn son.
He didn’t let Dean walk on his own, though, and snaked one hand around Dean's waist, holding him up. Dean managed walking without any real assistance for about two minutes. By the time father and son reached the rope ladder, Dean was leaning heavily on John, his head drooping against his father's chest, eyes barely open.
"Dad!" Sam's head appeared from the gap in the ceiling, the boy looking frightened and more then a little worried. "Dad, you okay?"
John was too busy to answer his youngest. He made quick work of tying the rope around Dean's waist, checking the knots, before holding Dean firmly and climbing the first couple of rungs as Sammy sent tiny grains of sand and dust down on top of them.
"Sammy, get in the car, put it in reverse so it'll pull us up and out of here." John cried out to his youngest, entangling himself in the ropes while keeping a firm grip on his oldest. Dean was conscious enough to tangle one arm in the rope and hold onto his father.
John's heart was racing a mile a minute as he heard the truck door open and close and the engine roaring to life. Holding onto both his son and the ladder as the ladder was being pulled out the hole wasn’t easy, especially as they dangled dangerously in the air. Sam stopped the car before they were out of the hole, but that was just as well, because with all the rocking, John wasn’t sure they'd make it through without being dragged across the bumpy ceiling, and there was always the chance the friction will tear the ropes.
Sam's head reappeared in the hole as he peered into the darkness of the caves. "Dad?"
"It's okay, Sammy." John said, trying to sound reassuring as he dangled in midair, holding onto his half-conscious son. "Try to pull us out, we can't climb up." John said, "And be careful." He added.
"Is Dean…?"
"'M fine Sammy." Dean muttered weakly, "This thing gonna keep swaying like this, I'm gonna puke all over Dad." He added with a groan.
Sam heaved them up, helping John get Dean out first. Once out of the hole, Dean stumbled on his hands and knees, crushing to the ground, exhausted, as his father climbed out of the hole.
"Dad, what happened?" Sam asked anxiously. "There was a really strong earthquake just a few minutes ago. Did you feel it? I was so nervous, I thought the whole thing was going to cave in or something…" Sam was rambling, a sure sign that he was scared.
"Just help me get Dean to the car, Sammy." John said, brushing dust and dirt out of his hair.
"Is he okay? What's wrong?" Sam asked nervously. "You got it, didn’t you? You got the scepter, right?"
"Yeah, Sammy." Dean said weakly, trying to push himself up, but failing miserably. He still managed his cocky smirk. "We got it. 'Ts over."
"Dad?" Sam turned to his father, unwilling to allow himself any hope until Dean's words were reaffirmed by his father. The older hunter gave a slight nod.
"Just help me get your brother to the car, alright?" he repeated, and Sam sprung into action.
Dean's legs refused to support him. His vision tunneled. He held onto his father and brother like a drowning man held onto a floating log. Between them, Sam and John managed to get Dean in the back seat of John's truck, Sam getting in with him, Dean's head in his lap.
"Dean, hey, stay with me, okay?" Sam asked as Dean's eyes rolled back. "Dad?" Sam's voice hitched. John scrubbed his face. He was tired, exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a nice, soft bed and sleep for a week, knowing both his boys were safe and within his reach. But right now, he had to get Dean checked out. He had to get him to a hospital.
"The Leech is gone." The eldest Winchester told his youngest somberly. "But it's possible it attacked him again before it… disappeared."
"We're getting him to a hospital?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's slurred protest. John nodded, looking around. The sky was gray with the nearing dawn. The national park was still, with no visitors or rangers anywhere near them. Heavy clouds nearing ominously from the south, wind blowing dust and sand everywhere. Closing the back door and circling the car, John got into the driver's seat. The car was still running. He put it in gear, driving away. Away from Death Valley National Park, away from this place and the sight of his boy writhing on the cold ground as something was ripped out of him, causing the earth to shake.
Something was ripped out of his child, and it rocked the freaking earth. Literally.
It was too mind-boggling to comprehend, so John decided not to think about it. Not yet. Not before he knew Dean was alright and had at least twelve hours of sleep, a long shower and a good meal.
Something was forced out of his son by this scepter, and it made the ground move.
Jesus Christ.
"Dean? Dean, stay with me! Dean!" John glanced in the rear view mirror, his heart in his throat. He relaxed a little, his lip quirking upwards at the colorful curse Dean bestowed on his younger brother. John decided to let it slip. Just this once.
"And other than that, he's fine?" John asked for the umpteenth time, making sure. The doctor sighed.
"Yes, sir." He said, readjusting his glasses farther up on his nose, "The IV should get him hydrated quickly. His blood work shows some electrolyte imbalance, but the results are much better now than they had been when he came in. In time, he should be fine." The doctor reassured. John ran his hands through his hair, letting out a breath of relief.
"When will we be able to take him home?" he asked. The doctor hesitated.
"Well, considering it's a recurring problem, I want to have him admitted. Forty eight hours at the very least." He said.
"But you said he was okay!" Sam chimed in.
The ride to the hospital had been extremely long, even at the breakneck speed John was driving. Sam was having more and more trouble keeping Dean conscious and alert, finally settling on conscious. Sam nearly freaked out when Dean closed his eyes and wouldn't open them again, relaxing a little when Dean told him he was too tired to keep them open. The slur in Dean's words was getting much heavier, and Sam grabbed his big brother's hand.
"Fine," he had said, "Just squeeze my hand, okay? You can close your eyes as long as you keep holding my hand." Sam insisted.
"Dude, you're such a girl." Dean smirked, eyes closed, and yelped and cursed when Sam squeezed his hand hard enough to bruise.
Dean was whisked away the moment they got to the hospital, and it was a nerve wracking two hours before his father and brother were allowed to see him. That was almost nine hours ago. Dean has yet regained consciousness. Another case of severe exhaustion.
Dean was hooked up to an IV, a nasal canula helping him breathe. They've run several blood tests, and after hearing of Dean's liver and kidney problems, he had undergone another extensive set of tests. The results were better than John dared hope. Exhaustion, severe dehydration, borderline anemia. The doctor had warned them of possible complications, but said chances were Dean would be alright once he had time to gather his strength. Dean was having some difficulty breathing, but the nasal canula helped fix that.
Sam looked at his pale brother, then back at the doctor. "You said he's fine!" Sam accused.
"Not yet." The doctor corrected, "But he will be." He finished quickly.
"Why do you want to keep him here if it's just dehydration and exhaustion?" John asked.
"Well, I'm guessing he's a very stubborn, independent young man, can't stay put for long." The doctor said, stuffing the chart he was holding under his armpit. "Right now, what he needs most is rest. If he can't be trusted to rest at home, we can make sure he sleeps long enough for his body to recover." A hint of a smile ghosted the doctor's lips. John gave a slight nod.
"He's not gonna like it." Sam muttered. The doctor exchanged glances with the eldest Winchester.
"We've actually gotten quite a few complements on the food here." The doctor said with a smile before he left the three Winchesters to themselves.
Dean was more than itching to get out of the hospitals. Three more hours left to his forty eight hour stay, and if he had been given a choice in the matter, he would've been long gone by now. But he wasn’t given one. Even after the sedatives wore off, and he reminded his father of the fact that he was, after all, over eighteen and was legally an adult, both his father and brother promised him hell if he didn’t suck it up and stayed in bed. By the looks of them, they meant it, too.
"And there's nothing else wrong with him? His kidneys? Anything… new?" John insisted. Two days later, and he still couldn’t get the image of that blue…something being torn out of his son's body. The news reported a 5.9 earthquake.
"There's nothing wrong, not that we can tell." The doctor said exasperatedly. They've been through this before. "You still need bed rest, young man, for at least another couple of days. And then you're gonna have to take it easy. No going to the gym for at least another week, and even then, I'd take it slow." He said, looking at Dean now.
"You sure you don’t need some more tests? He did pass out a few times…" Dean glowered at his father. This fussing thing was getting irritating.
"Dad, would you stop?" he snapped. "I've done my best pin-cushion impersonation, I don’t need any more tests. There's nothing…" he left that sentence hanging, because he couldn’t say it. That he was all right, that there was nothing wrong. He couldn’t say it and mean it. Not yet. Because yes, the pain was gone, and he was feeling stronger, but there was something else gone, too.
The emptiness inside him didn’t go away. Whatever the witch had taken from him… it changed him somehow. He didn’t know how, or why, but he felt different. The world seemed different. He couldn’t immediately tell when danger was near. She had taken it from him. He was just like everyone else now. He wasn’t special anymore, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
"Mr. Winchester, nothing I've seen so far indicates there could be something wrong with your son. Is there any reason for you to be so anxious? Is there something else I need to know?" the doctor asked. John bit his lip, but shook his head lightly, running a hand over his beard.
"I just want to be a hundred percent sure." He said tiredly. The doctor turned to Dean again.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, a slight smile on his lips.
"Tired." Dean admitted, "And a little worried." He added. The doctor frowned.
"Worried?" He exchanged a glance with the eldest Winchester.
"Well, you told him I have to stay in bed." Dean said seriously, looking at the doctor, "Now he's gonna take it literally and make me stay in bed and watch daytime TV." Dean smirked. "Seriously, doc, you gotta give me something for the pain…" but the doctor just rolled his eyes and turned to leave the room as John rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "No, really, come on, hook me up with some good stuff." Dean cried after the doctor, "Seriously, man, have you ever watched daytime TV?"
THE END
Epilogue to come. Oh, and it won't be fluffy, so hold on to your seats ;)
Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9 >> 10 >> 11 >> 12 >> 13 >> 14 >> 15 >> 16 >> 17 >> 18 >> 19 >> And the Ground Shook
Epilogue
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-17 02:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 05:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-17 02:05 pm (UTC)Will he get it back?!
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Date: 2007-05-21 06:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-17 05:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 06:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-17 06:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 06:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-18 02:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 06:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-19 02:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 06:13 am (UTC)Hi
Date: 2007-05-20 09:22 pm (UTC)Sams1ra, thank you for sharing your talent and imagination with us.
Hope you don't mind I friended you because I don't want to miss out on your delicious stories.
I also just read your Wee!Dean store, "Picture Perfect." And it was 'perfect.' I'm with Dean, no Bath but hiding and camaflouging from the enemy in the tub. Good idea there, John.
take care,
hugs
Angela
Re: Hi
Date: 2007-05-21 06:16 am (UTC)I'm really happy you're enjoying my fics. THanks for your kind words.
Re: Hi
Date: 2007-05-23 03:11 am (UTC)Thank you again for sharing your imagination and creativity with us.
take care,
hugs
Angela
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 11:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 12:12 pm (UTC)I have the day off in a couple of days, I'll have time to edit it then, and then I'll post it. It's ready, I just have to check for spelling mistakes/typo's.
Soon, I promise (if you promise not to hit me after you read it ;) )
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 03:05 pm (UTC)(In or causing pain?)
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Date: 2007-05-21 02:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-21 05:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-22 05:48 pm (UTC)No death - check (you did promise no death - you do recall that don't you??)
Feeling a little nervous here.... (worries and frets)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-24 04:35 am (UTC)