Rescue Mission 3/5

[soncnica]

Title: Rescue Mission 3/5
Author: soncnica
Rating: PG-13
Genre/pairing: gen, h/c
Characters: Dean, Sam, Bobby
Word count: cca. 2.192 this chapter, the whole story has around 13.041 words.
Summary: Dean has been kidnapped. Taken. Gone for four days and three nights. Sam's on it. He's gonna find him. He is. Just watch him. This continues my story Intro.
Spoilers: Umm for S4, S5. So if you haven't seen those seasons...
Warnings: Ummmm, none? If you find anything, do tell!
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is not mine!
A/N: I used Breaking Benjamin's song called 'Away' for, huh, idk how to call it... chapter descriptions, idk... those sentences in italics... idk, LOL but whatever you wanna call it, I do not own those.

I feel you…

Dean's hair was wet; lying down in defeat like cut grass.

His clothes or what was left of them anyway, were wet too; he still had his gray T-shirt on and his jeans, but his boots, socks, over shirt, jacket… it was all missing.

He still had the amulet around his neck, the bracelet around his wrist, the watch that still kept time and Sam thought that maybe those things were what kept Dean… going. A connection to the 'real' world, not the world that seemed to exist in the cave, the well.

Sam closed his eyes for a second. Just one second to get his mind back to the task at hand. Get Dean out, no matter in what state he is. Everything can be fixed. He has to believe that. He believes that.

Because this… this just wasn't happening. Dean was not… like this. He was never affected like this by anything they ever came across. With all the hunts they did over the years, Dean was never this… out of it. And there have been hunts where his brother could've easily slipped into insanity. But he didn't then, so why did… should he now?

Sam put the back of his right hand to his nose, trying to keep the awful smell away from him… but it was all in vain. The smell just kept on coming, kept on suffocating him.

Man…

He shifted on his feet, slid closer to his brother's back.

"Okay, okay… Dean… I gotcha, I gotcha, man."

He lowered his voice… still wanting that silence, not wanting to spook Dean out with yelling, not wanting to lure those shadows to them. He could still feel fear and doubts sneaking into his mind. He won't let them win.

But, he still needed to say something, make Dean hear, realize… that he was here and that he wasn't going anywhere. That Dean wasn't alone anymore. That there was no need to attack him again, but he already knew that Dean wouldn't do that again… his brother got what assurance he needed to believe Sam was Sam. Or at least Sam hoped that was the case. But, he's been living on hope for the past four days. And it didn't fail him. Yet.

There was some water dripping down from the ceiling, hitting a spot right beside Dean's bare feet. He looked down, noticed Dean's feet were wet, dirty and a little bloody, red toes curled in. Cold.

The sound of dripping, splashing drops of water was pure torture and Sam was amazed that his brother didn't go insane. Or… maybe he did and that's why he was like he was; not opening his eyes, protecting himself… and here he goes again. Stepping into territory, he really didn't want to go in, but kept going anyway. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts just kept on coming to the same things.

Those shadows were dangerous. The darkness was poison.

Shit…

He forced Dean to lie on his back again and where he touched his brother's shoulders to do so, he could feel him shivering; saw Dean's cheek covered in blood and dirt; saw how he was protecting his stomach with his left hand; saw how he had his legs bend by his knees… Sam saw it all and it made him wanna hit something. Preferably those, who did this to Dean; the demons, the shadows. Doesn't matter.

He touched Dean's chest, felt his heart beating strong and fast under the thin, wet cotton and shook him a little.

"Dean? You with me, man?"

Dean still hadn't opened his eyes, if anything… him touching his chest made Dean squeeze them together even tighter.

They looked okay to Sam before, so… why wouldn't Dean open them up again and look at him?

"Dean, open your eyes, man. Come on."

He wanted to pry them open, had his fingers almost touching Dean's eyelids, when his brother's water and blood cowered right hand shot up and grasped his. But it wasn't a gesture of attack, or so it seemed to Sam, it was more like Dean was trying to figure out… reality.

"Dean? Can you hear me?"

Dean's hand was crawling up Sam's forearm, his fingers bunching up the material of the hoodie.

His brother's fingers were trembling when they hit his skin; the touch made chills spread up all over his arm.

"Dean?"

Dean kept sliding his fingers down Sam's forearm, spreading goosebumps wherever they went and when they landed on Sam's wrist, Dean squeezed them into a grip… tight grip, bone breaking grip.

"Hey, you're okay. Dean?"

Nothing. Just whispers of 'Sam… Sammy.'

"Dean… come on, we need to go."

He gripped Dean's slippery hand, tried to pry him away from his wrist, but his brother was relentless. He was showing such strength that it made Sam wonder how he could still be so strong after four days of being in the well, in this cave, lying on the floor. And then he wanted to hit his head on the ground, just because of thinking such things.

Dean showing strength was a good thing. It was a great thing. It meant that he wasn't as hurt as Sam thought he would be. This was good. This was… it was great. And it just made him realize, that Dean really could have choked him before, but didn't. Why? Well, Dean will just have to explain that one to him, because he's out of answers to complicated questions.

"Dean, you hurt?"

No answer, just Dean's lips moving in silent 'Sam'.

"Dean, where are you hurt?"

He ran his free hand over Dean's forehead; cold, clammy, dirty.

He felt Dean tense at the touch.

"'m not going to hurt you."

Down his cheek; bloody, wet, cold.

Down his throat; felt the pulse at the side of his neck. The strong fluttering of the vein made him sigh in relief.

"'m not. Alright?"

Made his hand travel lower, down Dean's chest; rising up and falling down okay.

Dean squirmed.

Sideways to his ribs; applying some pressure there, he felt just how much weight his brother had lost while being down here.

Down to his stomach; moving away Dean's hand, he slipped his hand under Dean's wet T-shirt, wet palm to wet skin and applied some pressure to it but Dean didn't even flinch. But the skin was warm… Dean was sick, feverish.

To his legs that were still bent by the knees; thighs, calves. All okay. No flinching, no sounds other then 'Sam'.

To his feet; freezing cold, numb, dirt behind toenails.

And through all that, the only thing that he could determine was that Dean was okay physically. There were no apparent injuries anywhere and even the hidden ones… well Dean would make some kind of a noise if he would hit anything broken or… damaged.

He couldn't be sure about how… damaged Dean's mind was, but his brother's strong. Everything can be fixed. He believes that. He has to.

So… the question was… if Dean isn't hurt hurt... then where's all that blood coming from?

He wasn't sure he wanted an answer to that.

"Dean, okay… we really need to go."

Dean finally let go of his wrist and slid his hand up Sam's forearm again, bunching up the material of his hoodie, right up to his elbow. The feel of Dean's cold hand send shivers up Sam's back. His brother's fingers were clenching and unclenching on his skin, as if feeling if he was real. As if making sure that the skin and bones he was feeling were real.

"Sammy… Sam… Sam… Sammy…"

Dean's lips were moving, forming only two words – Sam and Sammy – and Sam was seriously getting freaked out. It was not like Dean to keep… repeating his name like that or touching him like that. It was kind of creepy. Real creepy.

"Okay, okay… let go of me… this is… Dean, man. Come on. Dude," he laughed, "you're creeping me out here."

The repeating of his name and Dean touching him… was really starting to make him uncomfortable.

The water from the ceiling was still slowly dripping down, hitting a white stone. The sound was starting to drive Sam insane. He was amazed that Dean… no, Dean is not insane. He is not. He's just… he needs to be taken away from this place. That's all. Everything will be better once they get to the Impala and go far, far away from this place.

Dean's eyes were still closed, he was touching Sam as if trying to determine if what he was feeling, touching, sensing was real or not and he talked, almost chanted Sam or Sammy like if he stopped, he would die or float away.

Sam adjusted his body a little bit; as much as he could while being almost pinned down by Dean's arms, because now Dean's other arm was sliding up his leg, gripping his jeans tight. Tighter then tight.

"Dean, can you hear me?"

"Sam…"

"Yeah, man… it's me… 's me. Open your eyes, man. Come on."

Dean rolled on his right side again, pulling Sam's arm with him.

"Can't…"

It was so soft, Sam wasn't even sure he heard it right. It was a different word, a word that was not Sam or Sammy. It was even more creepy then everything else.

"Can't?"

"Sam…" a breath that sounded more like a wheeze, "ya real? If ya're not j'st stop," a breath, "go 'way."

Sam would laugh at the 'are you real' question, if Dean hadn't said that like he was four years old, trying to get his parents to stay in his room for the night, to keep him safe from monsters.

What the Hell happened to him?

"Dude, you're getting bruises all over me. I think 'm real, man."

Dean breathed out and squeezed Sam's forearm again, setting his nails in the veins there, almost drawing blood. But Sam said nothing, did nothing, just let Dean do what he needed to do… let him draw blood if that would make him see that he is real, that everything is real.

"Ow man… 'm real, I am. Dean, trust me. I'm real."

He said when Dean really made it hurt, sticking his fingernail into Sam's skin.

Sam looked down at his arm, his mouth already open in protest and then he noticed it. He saw. He saw the reason why Dean was bloody all over… he had no nails on some of his fingers. It looked like they were pulled off, cut off, scratched off… who knows. That's just one more thing that Dean will have to explain to him.

Sam counted three fingers that were missing nails and that was just on Dean's right hand. There was just soft, red, inflamed skin where the nail should be. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see Dean's left hand.

"Oh man…"

He remembered that particular Christmas and hissed at the memory of how much that had hurt.

What the Hell?

Dean opened his eyes, blinked a few times, rolled his head to his left and groaned out: "T'e wat'r… stop. S'm... stop."

"Huh?"

He was still lost in the memory of that Christmas and flinched when Dean's whisper reached him.

His brother's eyes were shiny with tears and Sam didn't know what he would do if they would fall.

"Water? What water? Dean? Hey…"

Dean gripped his forearm tighter and groaned.

"Make... stop. If real, make...stop."

Dean's words were coming out clipped and slow, accompanied with soft and quick breaths through his open mouth.

"What? Dean… I…"

"Make," a breath, "it stop. Make it stop" a breath "Sammy."

He let go of Sam's arm and leg and put both of his hands over his ears, tugging at them, almost like… trying to rip them off.

"Dean, stop that!"

"Make it stop!"

Okay, that was loud. Dean's voice was deep and the words boomed around the cave, making Sam flinch. Dean sounded pissed. Sam didn't know if that made him happy, sad or scared. Probably a little of everything.

"Stop, stop, stop..."

Dean was muttering under his breath, still firmly holding his hands over his ears. Sam tugged on them, but man, Dean was strong.

"Dean! Hey," he tugged on his brother's hands again and got his left one off his ear, "hold my arm." He placed Dean's hand over his arm, not caring, barely noticing when Dean pushed his remaining fingernails into his skin.

"Ow, damnit…"

"Stop it… the water, stop it," a breath, "Sam."

"Wha…?"

Then it hit him straight in his ear… the water. The dripping sound of the fucking water.

"Dean, 'm gonna make it stop, I promise, but you have to get up and walk with me, okay? Can you do that?"

"Stop, Sam… please. Make... stop."

His brother whispered to the floor and hissed as another drop of water fell on the stone and splattered all over the floor. Some of the tiny drops of water hit Dean's bare foot and he… was that a sob?

'coz you won't stop touching my skin…

TBC…

Chapter 2 II Chapter 4

Comments

[darth-firefly.livejournal.com]

Oh wow... this is just.... damn. Looking forward to more! Excellent stuff.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

hey!

thank you so much for stopping by and reading! and leaving an awesome comment! :)
There will be moooore, I just don't know when.... but sometime this week for sure! :)))

S.

[gambitmoon.livejournal.com]

woohoo update! 2 at once for me and was sooo on a roll didnt want to stop reading cant wait for the next chapter gettin interesting! is Dean nyts or is there summat supernatural in the water?????? ahhh update soon please! oh n ta for the friend x

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

hahaah, yup an update and you got to read 2 chapters at once! :) THAT is why I always wait for the fic to be finished and then I read... coz I just don't wanna stop and wait for updates :)

hmmm, well the water is more like a torture thing, you know? when the water drips and drips and drips... you can go nuts! :) LOL

I'll update sometime this week :) dunno when yet :)

you're welcome and thank you :)

hugs,
S.