Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Dean’s woozy. He has a splitting headache, and there’s something warm and wet dripping down his face. He’s got the feeling you have when you know something’s wrong, terribly wrong but you just can’t put your finger on it. The white lights of dizziness swim over his eyes, and they begin to focus slowly but surely.
That stupid deer is the first thing that comes to his mind. That stupid fucking deer. It just jumped out in front of them, like it had been thrust from the sky.
Dean looks about, reveling in the sight around him. A hard pressure is pulling him and a heavy feeling of dread pounds him in the chest. The truck is upside down. He’s flipped the fucking truck.
Goddamn it, Dean! He can hear his father’s voice ringing in his ears. Sam. He’s got to make sure Sam is okay. Following the directions his father drilled into his mind from the moment Sam was born, Dean reaches over to grab for his younger brother. He touches just air.
Panic racks his body. “Sam?” Dean calls to him, his voice cracking slightly. Don’t be scared, Dad didn't raise a pussy.
Dean notices there’s a gaping hole in the windshield and he reaches forward, attempting to crawl forth from the truck. Useless. He’s still buckled up. He unlatches the only thing that allowed him to cling to life, and pulls on the truck’s door-lever with ferocity.
The gears click into their right places, but the door refuses to open. He pushes desperately against the door with all of his might, to no avail. The door doesn't budge.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice, usually upbeat and chirpy, is masked with the thickness of pain. Dean’s ears perk up, and his heart jerks to attention. “Sammy?”
Dean returns his brother’s call with a sense of false hope, that everything is okay. “Dean, I’m hurt.” The panic that was in Dean’s chest tightens up through his lungs, to grip his throat. “Sammy, it’s alright, I’m coming to get you, okay? Just stay where you are.”
Dean attempts to move his leg, to kick out the door, until he realizes the bone of his knee is protruding from the side of his right leg. It’s impossible for him to bend it.
Dean reaches down and drags his hurt leg closer to the door, using his left leg to physically kick the door open. Glass shatters from the top of the door, scraping the ground, as Dean crawls on his hands and knee, dragging his right leg, out of the truck. Dean grips the bottom of the truck door, attempting to stand; he falls, after putting the slightest bit of pressure on his right knee.
Sam groans from about ten feet away and Dean just aborts his plan of standing, for one of dragging himself, by his well-toned arms, to his injured brother.
Dean reaches Sam with a grunt, having left a speckled trail of blood, from the glass in his palms, on the cement. Sam is a gruesome sight. His intestines spilling from his waist, head cracked and bleeding profusely. Sam coughs up blood, before attempting to shift closer to the elder sibling.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice is raspy with pain, and the scent of blood hangs thick and coppery in the air. Dean leans down to rub his palm over his brother’s forehead, freeing his hair from the clotted blood at his temple. Sam shivers at his brother’s touch and a small tear slips from his eye.
Reaching up, Sam touches beneath his brother’s eye and realizes he’s crying. Squinting he looks closely at Dean, his breath ragged. “Don’t cry Dean, it’s okay.”
Dean reaches down with the hand that isn't stroking Sam’s forehead and touches underneath his eye, just as Sam had done to him. “I could say the same to you, little brother.” That earns a sickening chuckle from Sam, but the small laugh is interrupted by Sam’s wet, coughing, and a bit of blood, dribbles from the side of his mouth.
“Don’t tell Dad, Dean. Don’t tell him that I cried.” Dean shakes his head, flinging tears from his face, they’re falling freely now.
“I won’t tell him Sammy, but you’re going to be fine.”
Ignoring the fact Sam must have forgotten their father has been dead for three years; Dean emphasizes the word fine with a gentle rub of his thumb across Sam’s cheek.
“Dean, I’m dying, I know. And it’s okay, I’m not afraid, it doesn't even hurt that much…”
Sam’s voice trails off and Dean begins sobbing, moaning his name. “Sam! Sam! SAM!” He’s shaking his brother’s shoulders with all of his might, attempting to get him to wake up.
“Sammy, Sammy wake up! Sam, wake up right now, goddamn it!” Dean collapses over Sam’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably…