Part 5

Mac stood, waiting for the Impala's return to the underground garage. The black car pulled up fast as it cleared the open gates. Dean roughly placed the Chevy in park next to the Range Rover.

"He needs help," Dean said as he got out of the car.

Mac opened the passenger side door and saw an unconscious Sam with blood coming down his face. "Did he regain consciousness?"

"Yeah, he moaned and helped us get him to the car." Dean answered, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulder as Mac did the same.

"Sam, come on, time to wake up." Ames patted the young hunter's face and Sam responded by opening his eyes. "Stay with me." The youngest Winchester nodded. "We're going up the service elevator. I already dismantled the cameras." Mac pulled Sam's hood up over his head, and then led the way to the elevator.

In the apartment Mac sat Sam down on the edge of the bed. Dean pulled off his brother's shoes. Ames had his kit set up in the bedroom already. He checked Sam's eyes for pupil dilation. With Dean helping to keep his brother in a sitting position, Mac put on the blue non-latex gloves and cleaned out the wound, determining suturing would be necessary. Ten stitches later with the wound wrapped he allowed Sam to lie down.

The young hunter was blinking, wanting to give into sleep. "Sam, you need to stay awake a bit." Mac rubbed Sam's shoulder to bring his attention back to the room.

Sam swallowed and licked his lips.

"Are you going to be sick?" Dean noticed the change in his brother. He rolled Sam to his side while Mac brought a trash can over.

After a few moments and deep breaths Sam spoke, "No, I'm good."

The doctor continued his examination. "Okay, tell me if you feel this?" The doctor poked Sam's palms and then the soles of his feet.

"Yeah."

"How many fingers to you see?"

"Double vision," Sam slurred.

"Okay, Sam, rest up. I'll check on you later." Mac pulled off the gloves, tossing them in the trash. He shut the light and escorted Dean from the room. Sam needed peace and quiet.

The older Winchester brother sat on the leather sofa with a groan. "I screwed up."

"Dean, in this line of work, injuries happen. . .granted, more to your family, but I believe it is because you have to do everything with gusto." Mac said with a smile. He sat across from the other hunter, a glass of brandy in his hand. "It's a concussion. He'll be fine with some rest and a limit on activities for awhile."

Dean nodded, then wiped down his mouth with a shaking hand. "It's not that. I haven’t read the journal, Caleb's journal . . . I want to be able to help him."

"You do, and there's always time to read the journal." Mac placed the drink down and leaned forward. "You're worrying about this."

"I worry about a lot of things."

"You have always made the best of a bad situation. It was something I found rather admirable." Mac understood why Jim had chosen Dean as his successor to the position of Guardian.

Dean's eyes flared. "Sam was never a bad situation," he said vehemently.

"No, but growing up without a mother, with an absentee, driven father and taking on a parental role with Sam. . ."

"Dad was a good father." Dean shifted on the couch as he defended his father.

Mac gave a tense smile. John had kept a tight rein on his children. But, he missed his friend too. John, for all his faults was loyal. Most of all he had accepted Caleb. Ames wiped his eyes, feeling moisture well up. "I know."

"I've made mistakes."

"We're all fallible, Dean. You aren’t held to a higher standard." Mac got up and went to sit down next to the other hunter. The younger man seemed troubled. Ames knew some of the pressures facing Dean and wanted to try to help. "That boy made it this far because of you."

"I've broken rules-nature's rules." Dean didn’t look at Mackland instead he gazed out into the living room. "I shouldn’t be here."

"Dean talk to me, if not me then to Caleb." Mac would track down his son if it could help this young man. "We want to help."

Dean shrugged, then looked down to his lap. "Broke that rule of yours."

Mac frowned in puzzlement. "Which one?

"Blood."

Ames recalled the rules he had set forth for the brother's stay in the apartment. But, Sam had localized bleeding in his scalp. "There wasn't much of it." He tried to reassure the other hunter he would never abandon them, especially for a small infraction.

"Not Sam." Dean opened his jacket showing the saturation of his shirt and pant leg.

"Damnit Dean!" Mac pulled off the jacket and then lifted the shirt. The entrance wound was at the hip.

Dean hissed, and shrank back away from the probing hands. "You know you and your son seem to think that's my first name." He cleared his throat. "Can we keep this quiet Mac? I don’t want Sam to hear."

"I heard." Sam said from the doorway, gripping the frame to keep himself upright. "Damnit Dean."

"You too?" Dean asked at using the expletive with his name.

Mac brought his arm underneath the young hunter's. "Let's get you to a hospital."

"You can't." Dean gasped. He had been sitting for awhile and the blood had congealed making his pants stiff and pulling on the injury.

"Mac, can you help him?" Sam stepped forward, but then had to grip a chair in the hallway. "We take him to the hospital and the police will investigate. He's on the FBI's list." He explained.

"Damnit Dean." Mac glanced at each brother, wondering how they had gotten into so much trouble. The Brotherhood should have intervened. He relented. "Your father always wanted me to do surgery on the kitchen table." He half carried, half dragged Dean to the bedroom, giving a warning to Sam too. "You, stay put."

Sam slumped down in the chair, holding his head.

Mac shook his head. He would go back to get Sam, and bring him to Dean's room so he could watch over both.

He settled Dean in bed. He needed to get his kit. The orange EMT box was still in Sam's room. He took Dean's pulse first, noticing the fast rate.

"That's one of Caleb's mother's paintings." The lighter haired hunter commented, looking straight ahead at the swirling painting.

"Hmm, yes." Mac replied, more concerned for his patient than wanting to get into a conversation about his son. "Sit tight."

Sam still remained in the hallway. Mac fetched the kit first, then helped Sam along into Dean's room. He settled the younger Winchester in the recliner. He had hated the recliner when Caleb had installed it in his room, but now was thankful it would allow Sam to relax. "You rest."

Dean lifted his head up. "Sammy, Mac's a freakin' neurosurgeon, go back to your room."

"I'm fine here." Sam pulled the knob on the recliner to lay himself back. "You should've said something."

"How did it happen?" Mac asked as he cut away the shirt. He needed some towels to soak the pants before cutting them away them.

"Fatal attraction." Dean put his head back down. He felt as if body had been pressed to its limits. He didn’t blame Celia. She has been possessed after all.

"Not too fatal." Ames quipped, hoping he had everything he could possibly need for the situation. He left the room to get some towels, water and the coat rack.

Sam had noticed Mac's worried glances. He wanted to keep Dean talking until the doctor returned. "Jesus, Dean. You should have said something."

"Had to take care of you first," Dean replied in a low voice. "I was still conscious."

The youngest Winchester's hand went to the bandage on his head. It was already itchy. He wished his brother hadn't felt the need to always be the hero. "We got to work on that complex of yours."

"Was that a compliment?" Dean asked with a groan.

Mac returned, letting the towels soak the pants to make the blood more pliable. Using the coat rack, he set up a saline solution, and inserted the IV into Dean's arm. He kept the kit well stocked.

The jeans were well saturated now; Mac cut away the material with trauma scissors.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed as it felt like his skin was being ripped away.

"Almost there," Mac replied as the pants cleared the wound.

Finally, he was able to ascertain the damage. Blood had hardened around the point of entry, and was still oozing. It was a jagged cut, and Mac followed it, seeing the exit wound on the other side, which was also bleeding. "If he's lucky then it hit nothing and just followed the hip bone."

"We're so due for a little luck." Dean replied, grimacing from the pain at having the injury probed.

Mac removed an ampoule of morphine and a needle from the kit. Carefully, he measured the dose and then injected it into the IV.

Dean watched as the doctor worked. "The good drugs. I'm jealous of Caleb's first aid kit."

Mac set up a few needles of Novocain and began injected the entry and exit wound of the site. He would have to wait 20 minutes for it to take effect. He placed a hand on Dean's forehead. "Don't fight it."

Dean gave a dry chuckle. "We've been raised to do that all our lives."

Mac shook his head, but could see the morphine was making Dean drowsy. He waited, knowing the blood loss, and the exertion of the hunt would eventually cause the oldest Winchester brother to sleep. Fifteen minutes later Dean gave up the fight.

"He going to be okay?"

"Seems to have avoided any major organs, but he'll need to rest just like you." These two boys, so broken, needed more than suturing.

Mac washed out the wound using saline, cleaning the wound until the bloodstain was gone. The injury still needed to drain as it healed, so he used surgical tubing and closed the exit wound around it. He then packed gauze against it. The point of entry was a larger injury.

He spared a glance to Sam, who he had assumed had fallen asleep. "You're quiet," he stated when he noticed wide eyes watching him. "How's the headache?"

"Bad," the youngest Winchester admitted.

Mac knew a headache, dizziness and nausea had accompanied Sam's concussion. "It will get better."

Sam shifted in the recliner, which was able to accommodate his large frame. "Will it?"

His role as Scholar did not prepare him for these questions. He had to give hope, which was difficult when he dealt with facts and information. "It's the nature of things. Things have to get worse before they get better. You don’t appreciate the good until you've experienced the bad. . ."

Sam snorted. "Are you channeling Pastor Jim?"

He wish the Guardian and the Knight were still with them. Mac sutured the injury, making small stitches to lessen potential scarring. "It's been a rough year, for everyone. You're hurt and tired, and everything seems insurmountable."

"Dean's tired. I don’t know how much more he can take."

Mac placed gauze on the stitches then bandaged the wound. He was always amazed at the concern the brothers showed for each other, and wondered if that would of occurred if they had a normal upbringing. "He's worried about you too."

"I know." Sam couldn’t provide any words of comfort. He had a grim future if the demon's plans came to fruition. "The demon has plans for me, to be one of his soldiers."

"The demon has plans, but I would say that you have plans that are different." Mackland looked at the IV lines, making sure everything was flowing properly.

"You don't seem surprised." Sam frowned, but the facial movement brought a stab of pain, which he tried to rub away. "Did Dad tell you?"

"No, Caleb always worried about his heritage and then you showed psychic abilities and . . ." He walked over to the young hunter.

"So Caleb knows too?" Sam confirmed.

The doctor nodded. "I believe most of the inner circle does, but we don’t talk about it." He crouched down next to the recliner where the youngest Winchester sat.

Sam bit his lower lip. "There's more-Dad told Dean that he would have to save me, and if he couldn’t then he would have to kill me."

Mackland covered his mouth in disappointment. John's legacy to his eldest was to burden him with additional weight. "I'm sorry." Ames apologized for their father, and placed a hand on Sam's arm. "Doesn’t mean anything Sam- it is still about choices. Your brother knows that." He looked at Dean. Sam's destiny was on his shoulders. Mackland knew there would be trials, but ultimately it was Dean who would make the difference and save Sam. Egyptian legends, Indian lore and The Bible referenced one brother saving another. Although Ames dealt in reality, he also knew there was a basis of truth to be found in myths-supernatural battles had been going on since the start of man.

"He won't kill me Mac, and it may come to that." Sam failed to mention he had exacted a promise from his brother.

It would never come to that conclusion. He had been putting as many resources of The Brotherhood into helping the Winchesters. Good would win. "Have some faith, Samuel. I know it won't come to that. And I do not make promises lightly." Ames waited until he got a nod of acceptance from Sam before returning to his other patient.

Mac removed one more vial from his kit. He knew Dean was allergic to penicillin and used an antibiotic substitute, injecting it into the line. He checked Dean's color. The young man was still pale, but his vitals seemed strong.

Ames left the room, returning with a chair. It was going to be a long night. He had to wake Sam up on an hourly basis due to the concussion and he needed to monitor Dean as well. He placed the chair by the bed, and propped his feet up. "Get some rest, Sam, and we'll talk more about this in the morning."

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