Return of the Sam 9/?

Sep 27, 2014 18:03

Chapter 9

Crowley was right, Sam Winchester was standing right behind our attacker. Judging by the horrified look on the demon's face, this came close to his worst nightmare, it probably was his worst nightmare, but before he could do as much as blink, Sam had his forearm across the demon's chest, holding him close.

"Bad move." Sam snarled and a second later the demon flashed in strange light before he fell bonelessly to the ground. Dead.
Making sure he was dead for real Sam watched him for a second, bloody knife in hand, ready to strike again if necessary. That was the hunter Sam, the man I barely knew, but when the body on the ground stayed on the ground, Sam changed back to the friendly college boy I knew.

"It's going to be alright." He spoke directly to me despite the fact that I wasn't in charge. Which probably was a good thing, this way I only felt the agonizing pain in my chest as a distant thing I could easily ignore.

Then Sam's face hardened.

"Get out of him. Now!" With the knife he gestured towards the unconscious body in the ambulance but Crowley showed no intention to take his old body back. He still clung to the door of the car and with the immediate danger gone he just focused on getting the pain under control. I sensed how hard he was fighting and I felt his grip on me loosen but not enough for me to take back control over my own body.

However, the main reason for that wasn't his weakened status, it was my low tolerance of pain because whenever I pushed forward, I felt more of the pain and I shied back.

"Can't." Crowley squeezed the word out.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, demand an explanation, when behind him another person approached us. For a second I feared it was another demon but then I recognized Dean's hunched down form. Why was he even out here? He should have stayed in bed at least for another day or two. For sure he shouldn't be out here, carrying a shotgun and an expression that promised a painful death.

"We got your body." Dean cut his brother off before he even could say a word. "Take it and go."

"I can't." Crowley sounded as breathless as Dean. "And I won't." He swallowed thickly, speaking spiked up the pain but he ignored it.

"What do you mean?" Sam stepped closer, the wicked looking knife loosely in his hand but it was there, an unspoken threat. Would he really stab me? He had killed the demon without hesitation and wasn't bothered in the slightest by the body on the ground right next to him.

"He shot me." Crowley even managed to sound offended. "There's a devil's trap carved in the bullet. I can't leave this body."

"Of course." Dean cussed under his breath but it lost its impact when he needed to lean on the side of the ambulance to stay on his feet. The shotgun stayed steady in his hand, though.

"Let's dig out the slug, then." Dean suggested.

Now Crowley pushed away the pain and straightened up as far as he could.

"Even if you do that, I won't leave this body." He said matter-of-factly, looking Sam in the eye who was still dangerously close with that knife of his.

"Why not?" Sam frowned at him but seemed willing to listen.

"Because he shot me in the chest, moron." He gestured at the obvious hole in our chest. "I'm the only thing, keeping dear little Luis alive right now."

If my heart had been beating in that moment it would have stopped. But paying attention to it and not my whole chest for once I realized that my heart wasn't beating. With raising panic I waited for the next beat, tried to will it to beat, but it didn't move.

Stop that. Crowley snarled at me. You're making it worse.

"Super." Dean threw is free hand up as far as he could without jarring his shoulder wound and then looked at his brother who seemed just as clueless as the rest of us.

"Back to the bunker?" Sam suggested. "Sort it out there?"

I could tell that Crowley wasn't fond of that idea. The bunker was the last place he wanted to be right now.

"Cut it, Crowley." Dean said. "Bunker. Now. Before more of your friends show up." With that he banged the barrel of the shotgun against the side of the ambulance. "Get in there."

We got in first, followed by Dean who needed his brother's assistance to get in the back of the car and then we sat there face to face with Crowley's body between us.

Sam drove like a granny but he had three injured people, one with a loaded shotgun, in the back so I didn't blame him. I still felt every pothole.

By now Crowley had the pain more or less under control, the bullet still a throbbing hot poker in our chest, but I could feel him carefully taking stock of our situation.

I don't want to worry you. He finally said to me. But this isn't looking good for you.

What do you mean? I felt an icy fist in my stomach. Chest wounds were never good news.

The bullet went through your heart. He stated in a clinical way. I'm keeping the heart from beating right now but the second I leave it'll start moving again. You'll be dead within seconds.

I think I passed out at that revelation.

I came to to a beeping and for a second I just cursed at my alarm clock. Then I realized two things. I couldn't stretch out my arm to find that damn clock and for some reason it sounded more like a medical alarm.

Awake in a second I bolted upright. Only with a delay I noticed that my body actually had followed through with that move but then my focus was on the man lying on the stretcher in front of me. His condition hadn't been good from the beginning but now the portable life-support system told me that he got worse.

I shoved everything else aside and just focused on the task at hand. The man was dying. I was a doctor.

Dean's eyes were on the patient, however, he clearly didn't know what to do. He still held that shotgun, though.

"Dean." I bellowed. "Put that thing down and give me a hand."

He threw me an annoyed glance but then something changed in his expression.


"Stop wasting time and help me." I didn't have time to wonder why I was back in charge now. And for once Crowley didn't interrupt me with snarky comments.

The man's heart stopped at some point, just like mine but I refused to think about that. For now.

I managed to stabilize him. Also for now.

While I worked on him I noticed several wounds on his torso.

I could give you a list, Crowley offered.

It would be good to know what kind of damage I was dealing with but I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear it. This was hitting way too close to home.

Sam parked the ambulance and then we rushed our patient on the stretcher back to the medical area.

Crowley used the time to provide me with the details of the injuries he'd collected over the years and I had to admit, there was nothing I could do. The body was closing down and at this point the only thing I could do was to take away the pain and let nature take its course. I doubted the man would gain consciousness again which in this case was a good thing.

I'm proud to say that I hesitated. I could, should, let him die. Everything else would only prolong his suffering.

I'm not so proud to say that a second later I faltered. Crowley needed a body to return to. I needed this body to stay alive for a little while longer.

Better him than another poor bastard. Crowley agreed. And I've to say, I got used to that face in the mirror.

"That should do it." I stepped back from the bed and had one last look at the screen showing the vitals. Not great but he was alive. With any luck he would stay that way for a while.

Only then I really noticed that we weren't alone anymore. Sam had given me a hand while I worked on my patient so of course he was there.

Dean sat on his bed, slumped down and clearly in pain but for now he refused to lay down.

Castiel and Kevin were there as well, watching in silence and with worried expressions on their faces. With the angel I wasn't sure if it counted as worried, though.

"What happened?" Kevin broke the moment of silence and I've to admit I'd no idea at which point he'd joined us and if anybody had filled him in by now.

"Crowley got shot with a special bullet and we have to get rid of it before he can leave Luis." Sam summed up the situation.

He doesn't know, I realized.

You want to tell him or should I? Crowley offered. He had stayed quiet and let me work but now I felt him taking over again. I fought him, of course, but in the end he overpowered me and I was back to being a passenger in my own body.

"This was Luis right now, wasn't it?" Kevin asked with a gesture in the general direction of me and my patient.

"I let him come out to play for a little while." Crowley said and Kevin flinched back at his voice. "But I'm in charge now."

"You're next." Sam came up close behind us and I wondered where he'd left his knife. He jerked his head in the direction of a fresh bed, at this pace we'd run out of fresh beds soon here. "Lay down."

"Oh, Sam." Crowley turned and faced him with a mock amorous voice. "I didn't know."

"To get the bullet out." Sam clarified with a face clearly telling Crowley that he had enough of this shit.

"I don't think so."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Castiel stepping closer. He didn't say anything but he didn't need to, the message was clear.

"Don't get your feathers ruffled." Crowley easily dismissed him and turned his attention back to Sam. Out of all the persons present Sam was probably the one most willing to listen. "I'm trying to save your friend's life here."

"What do you mean?"

"The bullet went through the heart." Crowley spoke to him like Sam was a five-year-old. "I'm keeping it still because every beat would rip it farther apart, pumping blood everywhere except for where it should go. You putting you Cro-Magnon paws in there?" He shook his head. "Not a smart move."

"Okay, then." Dean tried to hop from the bed but only managed to not so gracefully stumble to his feet. Kevin was at his site in an instant but Dean swatted his helping hand away. "Trip to the hospital."

"Ahh." Crowley made a weighting motion, his hands raised like scale pans. "Bad idea."

Being an ER surgeon I saw the problem here. By now I could think about my situation in a more clinical way. Crowley was right, if my heart started beating again I would be dead within seconds, the wound was fatal. And the first thing they would do in an ER was to try to get my heart back to beating.

They would need to perform surgery in my current state, I realized. Which was fucked up by the way.

Good luck trying to explain to a doctor that he shouldn't be worried about the cardiac arrest and just do the surgery, I thought. I'm so screwed.

Chapter 10

sam winchester, kevin tran, stanford friends, original characters, dean winchester, bunker, season 9, outsider pov, crowley, castiel

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