**A/N: Here is part three! I hope you all enjoy it! Title of this chapter is a song by Green Day (if anyone was wondering :p) As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!**
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“What do you mean gone? Did someone take it?” Sam questioned calmly. He knew he needed to be the calm one in the situation, because there was no way Dean could.
Sam pulled out his cell and dialed 911, keeping a hand on Cass’s pulse. “Hello? Yes, we need help. Our brother is hurt badly, he’s bleeding heavily; from his head. I think someone attacked him. We’re on Evergreen Road, in a dark blue station wagon. Please hurry!”
“Sam,” Castiel murmured, his words slurred. “M’sorry I yelled at you. I dn’know what got into me. Didn’t feel like me.”
Sam rested his free hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to apologize to me Cass.” He paused, a realization suddenly hitting him like a Mac truck. “Cass, I need you to open your eyes for me.”
Castiel shook his head and winced at the pain it caused. “No … hurts too much.”
“I know it hurts, but you gotta do it for me. I need you to open your eyes and look at Dean,” Sam repeated more forcibly. “When he does, tell me what you see Dean.”
Castiel slowly moved his arm from his face and opened his eyes, searching out Dean’s face. “Dean … m’head hurts. Can’t see straight.”
Dean reached out and placed a hand on Castiel’s leg. “I know it does buddy. You can close your eyes again.” He looked up at Sam after he was sure Cass couldn’t see him, and shook his head grimly. “His pupils are completely blown out. What’s wrong with him Sam?”
Sam’s reply was cut off as Castiel started seizing violently. “Shit! This is what I was afraid of!” Sam cursed as he pulled his hand away from Castiel’s neck.
“Do something Sam! Help him!” Dean cried, pleading desperately to his little brother.
Sam looked at Dean, completely thrown off guard by this vulnerable side of his brother he’d never seen before. “There’s nothing I can do right now Dean. We have to wait and let the seizure run its course. But I think it’s an aneurysm. The signs are all there: traumatic head injury, severe headache, trouble speaking, dilated pupils, blurred vision, and seizure. But the ambulance is on its way. Cass is going to be fine, Dean. I promise.”
“Why would someone want to hurt Cass like this?” Dean muttered to no one in particular. He was speaking the question that hung in the air between them. Speaking what neither of them really wanted to hear the answer to. There was a long list of creatures hunting Castiel, both good and evil, but the boys didn’t know anyone who would steal his Grace and then torture the Angel with a slow, agonizing beating.
“I wish I knew Dean. I wish I knew.” Sam rested his head against the car and took a deep breath as they waited for the seizure to subside. Dean kept his eyes closed, tears streaming down his face. The 911 operator had told Sam that the nearest hospital was at least half an hour away and there was no way he could tell Dean that. It would break his brother.
When the seizure finally subsided, Sam checked Castiel’s pulse again. It was as much to assure Dean, as it was to assure himself that Cass was still with them. The pulse he managed to find was weaker than before, and Sam bit back a sob. “Hang in there Cass. Help is on the way, and we’re right here with you. We won’t leave you Cass … ever.” Sam kept a comforting hand on Castiel’s back, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
Sam listened to Castiel’s shallow, uneven breathing even through two bouts of vomiting, until the shrill sirens broke the silent air a few minutes later. It seemed that they were closer than Sam initially thought. He stood and moved to Dean’s side, allowing the two EMTs who jumped out of the back of the ambulance room to work. Sam pulled Dean away from the car and out of the way.
“What happened here?” One of the medics questioned as they began working to stabilize Castiel.
“We’re not entirely sure,” Sam stated. “He called us about 20 minutes ago saying that he had a headache and he didn’t know where he was or remember how he got there. I was able to track the GPS on his phone and that’s how we found where he was. We found him like this. His pupils are blown out and … he had a seizure not long before you showed up.”
The medic nodded at Sam’s explanation. “How old is he?”
“He’s 27,” Sam supplied. “Is he going to be okay?”
“It’s too early to say for sure, but we’re going to do everything we can for him. Do you know what he was struck with?”
“I-I think so. There’s a piece of wood covered in blood by the back tire. I saw it when I walked up.” Sam put his arm around Dean’s shaking shoulders as he told the medics everything he knew.
“He’s stable. Let’s get him loaded up,” The medic stated to her partner.
Dean looked up at her words and spoke for the first time since the EMTs arrived. “I’m riding with him.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s not enough room for you to ride in back with him,” She explained. “You’ll have to follow in your car.” The two medics slid a backboard under Castiel’s unmoving form and moved him onto the stretcher. They rushed the stretcher to the back of the ambulance and loaded it quickly. “If you’re going to follow, you better get in your car now. We’re leaving.”
Sam grabbed the car keys from Dean’s pocket; his brother was in no position to be behind the wheel. The younger Winchester’s mind was racing a million miles a minute as he struggled to stay calm and not rip his hair out. His long legs felt full of lead as he pulled Dean back to the Impala. He stole glances at his brother as they slipped into the front seats. Dean had a dull “thousand yard stare” in his usually bright green eyes, and looked permanently on the verge of having a full-blown mental break.
“Cass is going to be okay Dean. He’s a fighter; he’ll come back from this,” Sam said softly. He needed to hear the words as much as Dean did, and though his voice was steady and sure, Sam didn’t feel any less worried. He cranked the engine and followed the ambulance as it headed south.
“He’s dying Sammy,” Dean whispered, his voice trembling. “Two days ago, we were hunting a Windigo, and now … now Cass is … dying. What do we do, Sammy?”
Sam stole another glance at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Dean rested his head against the window and stared out the windshield, not looking at anything in particular. I wish dad was still here. He’d know what to say. He’d know how to get Dean to calm down. I’m no good at this.
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**Well there it is. I realize that this isn't how Dean usually acts, but it is for this story. It'll start to make more sense in the upcoming chapters.**
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Not While I'm Around
Fanfiction**Originally titled Your Guardian Angel** Sam and Dean Winchester are hot on the trail of the Colt, but before they can reach the small town of Lynden, Washington where the gun was last seen, a terrifying phone call starts a chain reaction that not...
