We're not calling it Babe 18/?
Chapter 18
"Sammy?" Dean adjusted Mac's limp body on his forearm and reached with his free hand for Sam. "Wake up."
He gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze, knowing better than to jostle him around in his condition, and with a groan Sam tried to lift his head.
"D'n?" The word came out in a slur and Dean only understood his name because what else would Sam say?
"Yeah, it's me. Time to wake up. You're frightening the nice vet." Dean tired to make it sound like a joke but it didn't feel like one. She was hovering in the background and now Dean became painfully aware of all the blood. He was covered in it and Sam who had been lying on that blood soaked floor in the trailer didn't look better. A pig of Mac's size didn't have enough blood to explain this.
"What is with him?" The vet asked, stepping closer. "Is that his blood?"
Dean wasn't sure if the alarm in her voice meant that she was about to call the police or an ambulance, he didn't know which, probably both, or if she was considering breaking every rule and risking her job by treating a person.
"Not his." Dean answered. He kept his hand on Sam's shoulder to prevent him from falling out of the chair while Sam fought his way back to consciousness. This was not good. "He got hit over the head. Probably has a concussion."
He had a sleeping Mac in his arm, a vet slowly working her way into panic in his back and a barely conscious Sam in front of him. Where was his luck when he needed it?
He glanced down at Mac. Maybe he needed to be awake to work his magic. And not being busy staying alive, that would probably help too.
"What happened?" The doc finally asked. She was still giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe because of Mac. What cold-blooded killer had a pet pig?
I have, Dean thought bitterly and to buy himself some time he gently put Mac down in the chair next to Sam. By now his brother had his eyes open and followed every move Dean made without moving his head too much.
"We got attacked." Dean finally answered. "The guy with the cleaver hit Sam over the head first and then went after Mac."
Now that he had both hands free, Dean held Sam by the shoulders and crouched down to get to eye level with him.
Sam's gaze was clear, both pupils were the same size and his eyes were focused on Dean. He didn't want to play twenty questions in font of the doc, though. They should drop in at the next ER but it didn't look like it had to be in this town. Dean would like to bring a few miles between them and the bodies he'd left behind before Sam got stuck in a hospital for a few days. If it really was this bad. Maybe a few days in bed would do the trick.
"I'll call an ambulance." She said and hurried over to the front desk.
"Wait." Dean called after her and she froze with a whimper. Slowly and clearly shaking she turned around to face him.
"Please." She said, eyes too bright. Her gaze flickered over Dean, lingering on … it took him a second to notice that in his crouched position the gun in his waistband might be visible.
Yep, she was definitely not ogling his ass.
She looked ready to bolt but she had to get past Dean to get to the front door. And to the back she had a long way before she could duck into a room that wouldn't be a dead end.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Dean said, still crouching in front of Sam and he hoped that he looked less threatening this way. Minutes ago she had been helping him and now she thought she wouldn't survive the night.
His words did nothing to calm her down but they had some effect on Sam. He snapped to attention and sat up straighter, eyes scanning the room for a possible threat. Dean let go of him and when he was sure that Sam could hold himself upright on his own, he stood up.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated with his hands open at his sides to show her that he meant no harm. "I'll just take my brother and my pig and then we'll leave."
Which was a good plan but it held some logistic problems. Mac was still out and even if he was awake, he was in no condition to walk out on his own.
With Sam Dean wasn't sure. He would like to have both hands free just in case his brother decided to face-plant on his way to the car.
The last thing he wanted to do was to leave one of them alone, though.
He looked over at the vet who watched him with big eyes.
"Could you carry Mac to the car while I take my brother?" He asked and almost laughed at her expression.
"I … you … what?" She stammered.
"I know you won't hurt him." Dean shrugged, not showing how much he hated the idea. He just wanted to leave. "And I'm less likely to hurt you while you have him, right?" He tried to make it sound lighthearted but failed miserably.
"Dean." Sam's fingers dug into his shoulder while he hauled himself to his feet. "You carry Mac, I'm fine." The way he used Dean as a crutch for standing alone showed how not fine he was but Dean didn't point it out.
"It's okay. I can take him." The doc hurried to say, a worried eye on Sam. If she saw him as an additional threat or was just worried that he would puke on her floor Dean didn't know.
Without letting Dean out of her sight, she stepped over to Mac who was peacefully sleeping through all this.
That was the moment Sam made up his mind about the puking thing.
"Eww." Dean made but had Sam in a practiced grip at the same time. Ignoring the mess on the floor he maneuvered Sam back into the chair where he slumped down, elbows resting on his knees and head hanging with strings of bile still hanging from his chin.
"Here." Suddenly a small basin and some paper towels appeared under his nose. Followed by a cup of water.
"Thank you." Dean smiled at the vet who gave him a shy smile in return. He still didn't know her name. "What's your name?"
"Amanda." She answered. She stepped back, awkwardly rubbing her hands at her jeans.
"I'm Dean. This is my brother Sam." He said while he placed the cup in Sam's shaking hand. Most of the water ran out of the corners of his mouth but he got enough into his mouth to rinse it.
"I'm sorry for the floor." Sam said around the paper towel Dean was using to clean up his face. He looked exhausted with dark smudges under his eyes and the flakes of dried blood in his stubble did nothing to make him look less homicidal.
"He has a concussion at least." Amanda observed more focused on the injured man in front of her than anything else. "We need to call an ambulance or you drive him to the hospital yourself."
This was the professional talking and at least temporarily her fear of them was forgotten. Almost. She still kept her distance and her eyes kept flickering over the gun hidden in Dean's waistband and their soiled clothes.
"I'm fine." Sam insisted and not only Dean rolled his eyes at him.
"Better let you get checked out. Just in case." Dean cupped Sam's neck and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The muscles under his hand felt tense and the skin was clammy with cold sweat.
"Dean, we have to leave." Sam said with a glance at Amanda. His speech was almost clear which Dean took as a good sign.
"Doesn't mean we can't get you checked out." Dean replied easily.
Next to him Amanda sighed. "You're not going to our hospital, aren't you?"
With two bodies and a trailer full of blood and body parts just waiting for somebody to find, sticking around was a bad idea. Dean would risk it if Sam was in immediate danger but chances were good that this was just their usual concussion and even if not, there were other hospitals elsewhere.
He knew that Sam was thinking along the same lines, maybe not that coherent but still, and he trusted Sam to tell him if things were really bad. They both had their fair share of concussions and they knew not to treat them lightly. But they also knew the difference between "Hospital. Now!" and "Just let me sleep it off.".
Another sigh and then Amanda straightened up as if she'd come to a decision.
"Let me at least have a look at him, then." She said. "And if I say that he needs a hospital now, you bring him in. It's not far."
Dean just stared at her.
"No, it's fine. I'm good." Sam hurried to say and to prove his point he tried to stand up again. "We'll just leave."
"Oh, for Christ's sake." She huffed and grabbed Sam's upper arm to stabilize him. "This way."
Together they got Sam into the room where Mac had been treated not long ago. Sam was more or less steady on his feet but Dean didn't loosen his hold on him just in case.
"I'm not a doctor." Amanda said while she was gathering her things. "And I highly recommend seeing one as soon as possible."
She came back to Sam who was sitting on the steel table, looking miserable. Dean stood at his side but was ignored for now.
Amanda did some simple tests and asked the standard questions like name, date and home address.
Sam was there enough to leave out Winchester, name the right date and come up with Bobby's address in Sioux Falls.
She even did some x-rays and as far as she could tell - "Still not a people doctor" - there was nothing broken and it didn't look like Sam was bleeding inside his skull.
Dean had seen enough pictures like this to agree with her but he also knew that x-ray was not the best way to diagnose that.
So far it looked like Sam just needed a few days of rest and if they were lucky that was it.
Speaking of lucky …
"Where is Mac?" Dean looked around but didn't see the pig.
He found Mac where he'd left him, asleep in one of the chairs in the front of the clinic. Dean carried him outside and put him in his usual nest in the foot room of the passenger side. Mac didn't even stir and Dean hurried back inside to get his brother.
He came in just in time to hear Sam saying: "Thank you. For helping us."
"It looked like you needed some help." She said as if she still couldn't believe what she just did.
"We're not the bad guys." Dean said when he entered the room. "But if you get in trouble for this, just tell them that we forced you."
He hated that once again they would be the bad guys in the story but he didn't want her to get in trouble or even lose her job over this.
Sam walked out on his own and the second they were out of the door, Amanda locked it behind them. Dean wasn't surprised.
"What now?" Sam asked while he tried to arrange his legs around Mac.
"Stop at the motel to get our stuff and then we're outa here." Dean closed the door for Sam and walked over to the other side. "I'll drive through till morning, then we'll see, hospital or motel. Either way, a few days of downtime for you."
"Sounds like a plan." Sam agreed, slumping deeper into the seat.
Chapter 19
Masterpost