Five Hours to Broken Arrow 4/?
Title: Five Hours to Broken Arrow
Genre: Gen H/C
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Castiel, others
Rating: R (language and gore)
Length: 4/?
Summary: "I swear to God, I will hunt you down and I will kill you." That's what he said. That's what he said before he killed my brother. Hurt!Dean, Soul!Sam. Covers all seasons.
Chapter 4
*
*
The call continued to ring out.
Sam was out of reach.
Bobby frowned as he watched Castiel lay Dean onto the sofa bed.
The kid looked beat up and spat out.
“Where the hell was he?” Bobby said. He watched Castiel lift Dean’s burnt hand and examine it, like a child.
“Trapped. Someone had purposely trapped him. “ As he spoke Bobby deftly moved around his kitchen gathering items. A bowl of water, a clean cloth, his med kit. He pushed the angel aside and sat down beside the unconscious hunter.
Both eyes blackened, a burn to his left hand, now seeping and raw. Cheekbones prominent, his skin dry and pale, his leg torn and dried black with blood and grit. The smell of sweat and piss rose up to meet Bobby and he pressed his wrist against his nose for a beat.
“Did you get him? Did you see the bastard that…”
Castiel shifted his gaze from Dean.
“No one was there. Dean was alone.”
Bobby smoothed Dean’s brow and felt his pulse. The fever would be from the burn infection. The high pulse was the result of the fever. His entire left side was mottled with bruise upon bruise. He looked gaunt and dehydrated.
Bobby stopped his examination and turned back to Castiel.
“Grateful as I am that you got him here…you’re gonna fix hi- ”
He looked back at an empty room. The angel was gone.
No one was going to fix Dean Winchester.
Just him.
SN
SN
SN
SN
SN
No signal.
Sam cursed under his breath and glanced at his watch.
This whole thing was jacked.
He doubted he’d even recognize this Jennifer chick.
Didn’t even know why he’d agreed to meet. Just the fact that she’d spotted Dean in the area should be enough for him to begin his own investigation. Instead he’d already lost an hour of his life he and Dean could ill afford.
The dust blew up from the derelict yard and made him squint at the dull colored pick up that swung through the gates. It stopped as if the driver was surprised to actually see him, and then rolled to park nearby.
Jennifer hopped out from behind the wheel but left the door open and the engine still on.
Sam recognized her straight away.
“Hey, Sam,” she said.
“Jennifer, “ he pressed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for coming. So, what’s the story?”
Jennifer hesitated.
“The story?” she asked. “Ain’t no story I got to tell…I don’t think.”
“Uh…yeah, the one about Dean. You called me here for the lead.”
Jennifer suddenly looked scared. Her eyes flicking around behind Sam. Unsettled and ready.
“Okay. When…when did I call you?”
Sam stilled. His shoulders dropped. “You didn’t call me.”
“The Vermont Vamp’s nest was the last time…and that was two years ago.”
Sam glanced around them, suddenly aware of the potential for catastrophe here.
“Okay, it’s a set up. Jennifer, I’m on a case involving a gold standard shapeshifter…I thought you’d seen…I mean, I…” He stopped himself from telling her. Couldn’t be sure.
She studied him hard. Crossed her arms.
“Where’s Dean?”
“Another case. We split up if the jobs come too fast.”
“You answered that one too quick, dude.”
“What?”
“Nothin’. She sensed his hesitation. “You don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine. And for your information, you called me twice. Told me you and Dean had a big Silkie thing goin’ on and you needed more ammo..?”
Sam shook his head.
“It…it sounded like just like you.”
“You and me…we must’ve met him…it before. He’s obviously one of the new breed that can shift without killing. Dean and I had a case like that a few months back. I just…I…” Sam trailed off.
There were no signals. No signs. This could be the shape shifter standing right in front of him.
If it was, it wasn’t going to tell him where Dean was. In fact, it might have already killed him and be looking to capture Sam to complete the Winchester set. He could pull out his knife and slit its throat right there in the yard.
On the other hand, it could just be Jennifer…
He dry scrubbed his face and sighed.
“Looks like we’ve both been had,” he said casually.
“Yeah…” Not so confident now. No doubt she was thinking the same thing.
In unison, both hunters took a step back.
“No harm done,” she said, tense and unsmiling.
“Good to see you’re…still going strong,” he smiled, raising a hand and half turning. Jennifer scanned the deserted yard one more time then, stepped back towards the open door of her pick up.
Sam watched her slide up onto the seat. She nodded once, then closed the door. Jammed the gearbox into reverse.
“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself. His heart was beating somewhere around his throat, but he felt he’d kept a casual enough pose.
His cell jumped into life and the moment it took him to glance at the screen was enough time for Jennifer to lift the gun up onto the door sill.
One shot.
And Sam Winchester was down.
SN
SN
SN
SN
“Don’t touch me..! Don’t…!”
Wild fists flew out at Bobby, his own hands grasping to avoid the heavily bandaged hand flicking out at him like a scene from a Sam Peckinpah film.
Cool water splashed on hot skin and clean sheets. Dean, wild eyed and staring. But not at Bobby.
“Dean! Dean, it’s me. Come on, son.” He kept an eye on the cannula in Dean’s good arm…now hanging by a thread. At least the fluid had brought him around…kind of…
Dean arched his back to buck off Bobby’s weight. “Get off me…piece of shit..! “ It was clear to Bobby that Dean wasn’t in a safe place…in his mind.
“M’okay…I’m gonna -“
Bobby dodged a head butt, then another - his own arms beginning to weaken against the hyped up strength of a delirious man.
God, how he wished Sam was here.
Spent and muscle-tensed, Dean stilled for a second. A hot breath wheezed out from him in his grit-teeth pain. The heat that sparked off him was unbelievable. The last hunter Bobby had seen this bad had died before sunrise.
“Dean,” he said softly, quietly. “Have to tell you…I’m getting too old for this, I ain’t got much left, here. You gotta calm down. You’re out of there. Castiel brought you back. You’re safe -”
Eye contact. At last. Bobby raised his eyebrows in anticipation.
“Sam? Sam!” A broken voice. “Don’t come here. He’s…” It was the voice of someone cracked and sore. A tear streaked down Dean’s temple and his chest heaved with a sob that almost undid Bobby. He wasn’t going to finish the sentence. The death grip on Bobby’s shirt slackened and fell. Heavy lids sunk over bloodshot eyes.
He sighed and squeezed Dean’s hand before getting up from the edge of the bed.
Time to try Sam again.
The phone was ringing before he even got there.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
More silence. Someone was there. Bobby knew it.
“Dean? Is this Dean Winchester?” An unknown voice. Male. Bobby searched his brain for recognition.
“It might be.”
“Well, maybe you know him, then…”
More silence.
“I have some information he might want to hear,” the voice continued.
A silent beat.
“Who is this?” Bobby snapped impatiently.
“Dean Winchester knows who I am,” the voice said.
Bobby nodded as if the caller could see him.
“Tell him, Sam Winchester came looking for his brother today and now he’s dead. Tell Dean, I swear to God I will hunt him down and I will kill him.“
TBC
Chapter 5
Back to Chapter 3