Two Brothers 16/?
Chapter 16
"What the hell is a Manticore?"
I thought I'd heard that name before - something out of Greek mythology? - but I couldn't place it.
"It's a monster." Sam answered with a weak smile. "Something right out of nightmares."
He described a beast with a vaguely humanoid head, the body of a lion, wings of a dragon and a scorpion's tail and during all that he sounded damn serious.
"You're yanking my chain here, right?" I nearly pleaded when the description formed an image in my mind. Something like that couldn't be real. On the other hand I had been the one who had sewn a torn up Sam back together. Torn up by some scary big claws.
"You asked." Sam shifted in his bed to find a more comfortable position. The way he was holding his midriff he was thinking about big claws, too.
"Why would anybody in his right mind even go after a thing like that?" I blurted out and had to sit down in the chair that was usually Dean's. Dean who probably sat in another chair at another hospital bed right now interviewing a woman about her encounter with the human/lion/dragon/scorpion thing she had barely survived.
"Who said we're in our right minds?" Sam joked but he seemed more worried than amused. "It's killing people, somebody has to stop it."
"Why you?" I just had to ask. I remembered the young man I had known at Stanford, a brilliant mind with a bright future ahead. And I saw what this young man had become. An outlaw, wanted for capital crimes if he hadn't been presumed dead, multiple times. A man who stayed at shady motels and had to use fake insurance to get his injuries treated. Injuries he'd gotten fighting for the greater good.
"It's kind of the family business." Sam let out a sigh. "My mother was killed by ... something supernatural when I was a baby, that's how my father became a hunter. Dean and I were raised to this life."
This was the short, cleaned up version of his life, I got that, and by the way Sam stared into nothingness for a long moment I knew that there was so much more behind this short statement.
"You were a baby?" I tried to imagine how it would be to grow up like this, knowing that monsters were out there, fighting and killing them. How old had he been when he started hunting monsters himself? I didn't dare to ask.
"Stanford was my first real try on a normal life." Sam said, now with a rueful smile. "It never worked out."
Stanford had ended with his girlfriend dying in a fire, an accident as we'd thought back then but later over that one weekend it became clear that Jess had been murdered.
"Did you ever catch Jess' killer?" I hesitated a little bit to ask that but I wanted to know. She had been a friend of mine, too.
"Yeah, we did. Dean killed it." His expression became unreadable with too many emotions flashing over his face.
"That's good." I wanted to know more, ask more questions but one look at Sam's face and I changed the topic.
"So this Manticore." I said instead. "You don't want to go after it again, don't you?" It had done quite a number on Sam, it would be an insane move on his part to face it again. But he was hospital bound for at least a few more days anyway and after that no strenuous activities for a couple of weeks at least, doctor's orders. And I knew I had Dean on my side with this.
"Somebody has to stop it." Sam shrugged. "It is wounded but no way I'm going to let Dean go after it alone."
"Ain't there somebody you could call in for help?" I asked and wondered if there were more hunters out there. Thinking about it, it made sense.
"Not anymore." A shadow darkened his face for a moment but then he shrugged off the dark thoughts. "Don't worry, Dean won't let me do more than providing back-up anyway. I swear, he's like a giant mother hen sometimes."
That wasn't exactly my impression of Dean but then my eye fell on the plush giraffe on the nightstand and I remembered the fruit salad. Apparently bad-ass monster hunters could turn into mother hens. On occasion. When little brothers were involved.
"I should get out of here soon, anyway." Sam continued. "Don't want to get you into more trouble than necessary."
"I want you under observation for at least another 48 hours." I informed him in my doctor's voice and he didn't have the strength to argue right then. He tried to hide it but I could tell how tired he was and how exhausting our little conversation had been.
"Okay, my shift is starting in five minutes. I better get going and you should rest." I stood up and had a quick look at his vitals. "I think we can get you off the hook here. I'll send Nancy in."
"Thanks, Luis." Sam had already relaxed into the pillow and watched me from behind half-closed lids.
I didn't have time during my shift to check on Sam but there was no emergency call so I was sure that everything was fine with him.
It was late in the evening, the nurses had just made their round, when I came back to Sam's station. Nancy's shift was long over at that point but Chris was there and he assured me that Sam was fine and that he'd even managed a bathroom trip under his own steam.
Happy with the progress I went for Sam's room to pick up Dean. I hadn't seen him all day and I figured I had to pry him from Sam's side myself to get him to sleep in my guest room again.
When I entered the room there was no Dean in sight. Instead I found Sam sitting on the edge of his bed with the bandages ripped of his head, leaving the short row of stitches in the open. He had ditched the hospital clothes for his own shirt and now he was struggling to get his legs in his jeans.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked louder than I intended and Sam froze at my sight.
continue to chapter 17
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