Dream On

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: Ridley is all about The Brotherhood and Kripke is all about Supernatural. I do not profit from either.

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

Chapter 5/6

Pastor Jim smiled at the youngest Winchester. "Are you playing a game?"

Caleb could feel the nervousness emanating from Sam. Reaves looked at John. "No, they aren’t. Deuce isn’t with you?"

"Not with me." Jim replied, his face frowning in worry. "I went from visiting the parishioners to pick up Mac."

"I can see that." John put down the beer, and looked out the kitchen window. "I assumed he was going with you. . ."

Caleb filled in his father and the pastor. "He stayed behind to work on the Chevy."

"I swear I will kill him if he's off with Hensen's girl." John growled, finding a plausible explanation. For three years Dean had been trying to impress one of the farmer's daughters.

Jim picked up the phone and dialed the number from memory. "I'll call Tobias and see if he's seen Dean." Patiently, the pastor went through the pleasantries. He shook his head at the gathering of hunters. "Hasn't seen the boy."

"We should probably check the property. . ." Caleb went to one of the kitchen draws, the steaks forgotten, and pulled out a few flashlights. "I'd get a vision if he was in trouble-Right, Dad?"

"Let's calm down." Ames felt he needed to be the voice of reason. The youngest Winchester was chewing on the side of his thumb in nervousness. "Do we have something that belongs to Dean?"

"His jacket!" Sam ran upstairs and brought the garment to the doctor.

Mackland sat down at the kitchen table, placing the jacket in his lap. He concentrated on the jacket and on Dean. He grimaced when his vision revealed Dean's location. "He's in the barn. We need to hurry."

Caleb made it to the barn first with Sam on his heels. He pulled the door open, not comprehending the scene before him. The 1961 Chevy truck was tilted at an awkward angle over the pit.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, running past Caleb, figuring out that his brother was trapped beneath in the pit.

"Oh dear Lord," Jim uttered.

"Dean, can you hear me?" John yelled out, coming to stand next to Sam. "We need to move this."

"I'm calling 911. We're going to need an ambulance." Mackland ran back to the house after confirming his vision was correct. He knew Dean was unconscious and needed medical attention.

"John, we need some planks. If we don’t do this right-it'll fall in." Caleb said as he circled the truck, utilizing his architecture skills.

The men moved fast, gathering what they needed. Mackland returned, and kneeled down next to Sam who had been calling his brother's name over and over again, waiting for a reply. "Is Dean going to be okay?"

Ames hated to make promises, but Sam needed assurances. "You know your brother. This won't keep him down." Mackland knew Dean would always fight to be there for his younger brother.

Caleb, John and Jim returned with wood planks. Caleb directed the hunters on their placement, then backed the Impala into the barn. The black car had a V-8 engine while the Jeep was only a six cylinder. They needed the extra engine power to pull the truck out.

John looped a chain around the bumper of the Impala and then attached the other end to the truck's front fender. "Sammy, I'm gonna need you to drive car."

The youngest Winchester nodded. John escorted him to the car. "Press on the gas nice and gentle. We're going to be pulling so that the fender doesn’t fall off."

Sam slid into the adjusted driver's seat. John started the engine. "Ready?"

"Ready," the boy replied.

"Wait until I tell you." John got into his position with Caleb behind the Impala. Mac and Jim were near the truck ready to push.

"Go!" John yelled out to his son who tentatively applied pressure on the pedal.

The wood planks creaked and the truck groaned. Finally, with the hunters help, the truck moved forward and cleared the pit. Sam placed the car in park and shut it off, running to join the other men.

Mackland jumped down into the pit as did John. Dean was lifeless in the corner. The root cellar gave off an odor of beer, wine and oil. It was not a pleasant mix. The lights in the barn cast an eerie glow to the pit, making the teenager look as if he was some grotesque extra in a horror movie.

"I'm going to make sure the ambulance finds us." Pastor Jim interrupted the tense silence. "Sam, come along."

The boy stood next to Caleb. His eyes fixated on his brother. "I want to stay here."

"Sammy, let Mac work and help Jim." Reaves pushed the boy towards the minister. When Sam and Jim were out of the barn, Caleb crouched down. "Dad?"

"We need a backboard down here." Mackland replied. It was tempting to move the teen, who was sitting against some crates unconscious. Ames had to be wary because of a possible back injury. "He's breathing. Probable concussion, broken arm. . ." He gently probed Dean's arm. "He's too cold, maybe hypothermia. And he may have drunk quite a bit."

"Are they here yet?" John yelled, remained close to his son, but gave Mac room to work.

The answer came from Sam who ran in. "They're here!"

The two EMTs followed Jim into the barn. They jumped in the root cellar, and John came up, giving the medical professionals more room. Carefully, Dean was strapped to a blue backboard and a collar placed around his neck.

"We're going to need some help in lifting him out." One of the emergency workers stated. He had four sets of hand at the ready. "Okay on three."

Dean was lifted up into the lighted barn. Unmoving, even when an IV line was started. Sam knelt by his brother's side. "Please, Dean, please."

Caleb rested a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Call the clinic and tell them we need an orthopedist." Ames ordered as he checked over the patient, covered him with the blanket and kept up with the gurney. "I'll be going with you."

The other hunters ran behind them.

One of the EMTs shook his head as they reached the ambulance. "Sir, there's no room. . ."

"I'm Doctor Mackland Ames."

Caleb mimicked his father. The name sounded impressive.

"Right, okay." The EMT shrugged at his co-worker and allowed the tall doctor access.

"We'll meet you at the clinic." John said as he closed the ambulance door.

"I'm driving." Jim announced as they rushed to the Impala.

"Jim, no offense, but the speed limit is only a suggestion." Caleb stated, going towards the driver's side.

John gestured to the backseat. They piled into the Impala, John taking the driver's seat and following closely in the ambulance's wake.

The local clinic was small, but the closest trauma hospital was two hours away. Mac banned the hunters from entering the triage room, and told them to be patient.

Inside he concentrated on Dean and directing the doctor on duty. Dean's clothes were cut away and x-rays taken. As the x-ray of his chest was taken, the teen moaned.

"Dean, Dean, you're in a clinic. I need you to wake up." Mackland lightly tapped Dean's face to bring him around.

The teen complied, blinking slowly. "Mac?" He asked. He looked around wildly; the heart monitor recorded an increase in Dean's heart rate.

"It's okay, Dean. . ." Ames tried to soothe the teen, wishing he hadn’t banished John to the waiting room.

"I'm gonna be sick." Dean tried to lift his head. His stomach was churning.

"Turn him," Ames ordered, making sure the vomit was away from him. He had paid his dues as an intern a long time ago.

"Oh God." Dean groaned as he spewed the liquid contents of his stomach. The teen closed his eyes. The liquid burned his throat and mouth. He would never drink again.

Mac knew his patient had a concussion and it was difficult to bear the dizziness and nausea. The fact Dean had also drank quite a bit didn’t help the situation. He gestured to the clinic personnel to give the patient some space. He knew the teen got overwhelmed when crowded. "Dean, stay with me. What hurts?"

Dean opened his eyes again, blinking slowly. "Ribs, back, arm, head…I don’t know everything."

Mackland did a quick test of the teen's reflexes. "Can you feel this?"

"Yeah." Dean swallowed.

"Good boy. You're doing great." He gestured for a nurse to come closer. "We're going to clean you up, and get you fixed up as good as new."

The other doctor had started a hydrating IV, putting in antibiotics and a mild pain reliever. With the concussion and alcohol consumption the doctors had to be careful.

"This is Doctor Michaels. He's going to fix your arm, and I'm going to stitch up that hard head of yours." Mackland introduced the other man, as the nurse carefully cleaned the arm of oil and debris.

"Dean, it's a clean break, and I'm going to set it, but it is going to hurt." The bone had to be manipulated into place, and the flesh was already swollen.

The teen nodded. Mackland grabbed his left hand, and gave it a light squeeze to give permission to the boy to take the pain out on Ames's hand. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, and tears rolled down as the doctor set the arm. He tried to roll away from the pain, but Mac kept him still. "He's all done, he's all done." Mackland repeated to the teen, trying to help him ride through the pain.

He gave time for Dean to settle down once more before he started working on the scalp lacerations. "Not to bad at all. No stitches needed."

"That's good. I really don’t want a matching set."

Mackland saw the faint scar of the baseball injury. In another year there would be no mark left. The nurse helped clean some of the blood away and then Ames sealed the wound and wrapped a bandage around it.

"Caleb's going to have a field day." The teen commented, feeling the bulky bandage winding around his head.

Mac chuckled, knowing his son too. "I'll threaten to take his trust fund away if he teases you."

And within fifteen minutes it was a one-sided conversation. Dean succumbed to the trauma of the injuries, his exhaustion and the mild sedative. "Let's bind his ribs, and then take a look at that back."

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

Onto Chapter 6

Home



Uploaded by Majs