And the earth -- Chapter 02
“Dean.”
Bobby’s hushed voice penetrates the fog clouding his brain. He doesn’t want to wake up, not now. He is too tired.
“Dean, wake up.”
Bobby again.
It takes too long to force his eyes open and when they finally do all he can see is black. There is something covering the upper part of his face. It smells familiar (leather, oil) and he realizes it’s his jacket. Right, the friggin’ light wouldn’t let him sleep.
“They caught him.”
Who?
Bobby wouldn’t wake him for anybody and there’s only one of them left still out there-
No.
“Dean, they got Sam, wake up.”
Nononono.
Heart hammering in his chest he sits up before Bobby can shake his good shoulder again. His weary body protests against the sharp movements, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t notice how reality gets fuzzy around the edges. Bobby is staring at him worriedly. The room’s single light bulb makes him look pale, the torn baseball cap casting a deep shadow over his eyes. For a moment they look almost black and Dean wants to recoil-demons, they’re here, inside him, RUN-but then it’s Bobby again, still looking upset.
“You okay?” Bobby’s whispered words remind him of the others inside the room and he makes an effort to move as silently as possible. He doesn’t want to wake the kids, they need the rest.
And then Bobby’s earlier words come back and he forgets about everything else.
Sam, they caught Sam.
“Which gate?”
Dean’s voice doesn’t quite want to cooperate. He gasps when he moves the wrong way and his shoulder explodes in agony. Fuck. He tries to breathe through the pain while simultaneously getting up from his cot. It sucks to find out he isn’t strong enough to do both. The world takes a lazy turn to the left and he is falling. A hand grabs hold of his left arm-the good one-and keeps him steady.
“Easy, son.”
He barely waits until the air is back in his lungs before he rasps out again, “Where are they bringing him, Bobby?”
“The Northern Gate.”
Fuck. And again, fuck.
“Fuck. How long?” He fights for his balance, gets his feet under him and makes it off the cot, swaying slightly. He blinks up at the older hunter through squinted eyes, feels his stomach drop all the way down to his boots when Bobby shakes his head slightly.
“Thirty minutes, maybe less.”
Fuck it. They won’t make it; it takes at least 40 minutes to get to the Northern Gate from where they are, no way they gonna get there in time. Bobby doesn’t meet his eyes but there’s worry written all over his face. He almost chokes on the helplessness that wells up inside him before he can stop it. No, he won’t have that, failure is not an option, not this time. He’s going to get his brother back.
He moves toward the hole in the wall they generously call ‘the door’ with determination, careful not to stumble over the many sleeping-bags. Bobby is right behind him, following silently.
They are almost out when he catches movement out of the corner of his eyes. Yannick-Yanni for his friends-is watching him worriedly, hair sticking up in all directions. He is fighting off a yawn but his eyes are wide awake, scanning the room with a familiar intensity. Although his hair is the brightest blond Dean has ever seen, the way the unruly strands stick out in all possible directions painfully reminds him of his brother. He doesn’t fight the smile that starts at the corners of his mouth. He takes a second to mouth ‘it’s okay, get back to sleep’ and follows that with what he hopes is the correct sign for ‘sleep’. He knows the teen won’t buy it and he is right; Yanni gives him a yeah, right look, but lies back down obediently. His hands move swiftly in a familiar pattern he can read easily.
[Careful.]
Dean nods at him and he and Bobby are out of the door.
They don’t talk on the way to the car, keeping the noise to a minimum. Dean is waiting for his brain to get back online, cursing at the painkillers he took earlier. He feels weird, detached from reality, not really there. The night’s chilly air rouses him a little and helps with the headache, but it’s only when he can finally sink down on the passenger’s seat of Bobby’s truck and lean back for a moment that he is able to catch his breath.
Sniffing sounds from behind make him turn his head and he looks at the two Rottweilers watching him from the back of the truck. A sigh escapes his lips and he groans; Bobby’s expecting trouble then. The next moment the driver’s door is opened and the older man slides in next to him, already starting the car before the door has closed behind him.
“Bobby…” He starts, knows what he wants to ask but for some reason the words won’t come.
“I don’t know.” Bobby’s voice sounds grim, worried. He nods at the glove compartment and Dean fumbles for a moment before he pulls Bobby’s spare gun out. He knows it’s pretty useless since he is a lousy shot with his left hand, but still its familiar weight comforts him. He leans back and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“We gonna make it in time?”
They both know the answer and they both know that the other knows. Bobby’s only reaction is to put his foot on the gas.
Hold on, Sammy, please, just hold on.
chapter 3