Tecumseh

By Tidia & MOG, May 2006

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Chapter 2/18

“Sammy! Jesus.”

Dean dropped down next to his brother, frantically pushing aside a scattering of moldy-scented books. “Come on, Sam.” He shoved at the bookcase but his angle afforded him no leverage. Dean tried to ignore the gash across his brother’s forehead. Blood flowed freely from the wound, spreading like dark oil across Sam’s pale complexion.

“Sam! Open your eyes, damn it!” Dean pushed futilely on the antique wood piece, shouting in frustration as it moved only an inch. A familiar scent caused him to halt his efforts and he looked over his shoulder, praying he wouldn’t see what he expected.

Black smoke was already rolling down the hallway and flames licked up the sides of the closest door and danced wickedly up one wall of the bedroom. The unattended Zippo had done what Dean hadn’t had time to do – send Lincoln Beets’ remains to Hell.

Dean cursed sharply and turned back to Sam. He flung books out of his way and, on his hands and knees, wedged his shoulder under the edge of the bookcase. Sam’s body under the wood piece was the only reason why Dean was able to get any position of movement at all. With a fierce shout, Dean pushed up with all his strength, moving the bookcase over just enough to clear his brother’s body.

Dean coughed as the chemical-filled smoke spread towards them. He pulled Sam over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, snatched up the shotgun and bolted for the staircase. Using the momentum of the stairs’ steep angle, he cleared the steps several at a time to move himself and his brother quickly out the door.

Outside, the cool night air rushed across Dean’s face as he laid his brother’s body on the gravel next to the Impala.

“Sammy? Come, man, time to wake up. You’re gonna be late for school.” Blood from the gash on Sam’s forehead was smeared down the side of his face. Dean swallowed hard as he realized he’d have to get his brother to a hospital if he didn’t regain consciousness in the next minute or two.

He patted down Sam’s body, checking for injuries. For a moment, he paused on his heart, relieved at the regularity of its beating. He remained, unmoving, in that position as he noticed a sensation of warmth emanating from his own palm. He stared at the back of his hand, mesmerized by the feeling that he could take away Sammy’s injuries and pain.

Dean’s breathing grew heavy and a hard shudder coursed through his body. A constricting pain pressed down on him and he gasped for breath. He crumpled to his knees and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the pain increased.

He didn’t see the cut on Sam’s forehead close and the broken skin meld together. He only felt a burning slice on his own face. He fought desperately for a breath and felt his muscles shake violently. Unable to hold the connection with his brother, Dean broke the contact and crawled a few feet away, collapsing onto the gravel drive.

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

Onto Chapter 3

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