by Ally Blue
Dean was beside him in a matter of seconds. “I heard you yelling. What happened?” He knelt on the rocks beside Sam and handed him the open umbrella. “Hold this over us. I need to examine him.”
“A portal opened. I don’t know how, or why, other than it was nothing I did this time.” Sam watched, shivering, as Dean shone his light into both of Bo’s eyes, then pulled the raincoat down to sweep the narrow beam over his body. Bo didn’t respond, and the cold knot of fear in Sam’s belly grew. “I called him, and he turned around, but he wouldn’t answer me. He seemed completely out of it. Then that…that thing attacked him right before I sent it away. I think it cut him.”
“I’ll say.” Dean was gazing at Bo’s back, where he had his light trained. “His back’s sliced up pretty badly. If whatever cut him had hit him in the front, it would’ve torn him open.” Dean glanced at Sam, his face solemn. “Looks like you saved his life by getting him to turn around like that.”
Against his better judgment, Sam leaned over to look, and instantly wished he hadn’t. A deep gash ran from Bo’s right shoulder diagonally to his left hip. Blood poured from the wound to form a red river that trickled over the rocks and washed away in the rain.
Sam sat back, fighting nausea. “We need to get him to the hospital.”
“I know.” Jumping to his feet, Dean hurried around to kneel at Bo’s other side. He pulled his T-shirt off and used both forearms to press it hard against Bo’s back.
“How are we gonna get him out of here? The gate’s locked.” Sam’s eyes widened as he realized what would have to happen. “Shit, Dean, we’ll have to get the police or somebody to open it. They’ll find out Bo broke in.”
“And us,” Dean added, his face grim.
“They’ll arrest us all. Fuck.” Sam grimaced. “But we don’t have any choice. We have to get him out of here, fast.” He reached for his cell phone.
“Wait.”
Sam looked up at Dean, eyebrows raised, one hand curled around the phone in his pocket. “Yes?”
“There’s a spot about twenty feet up the inland side where the fence has been cut.” Dean nodded to a spot behind Sam and a bit to his right. “I noticed it the other night when we were investigating out here. Call Kyle first, tell him to meet us there with the car. There’s a road to the right of the gate that goes straight down this side of the fence. We’ll call the ambulance, then take Bo out through the break in the fence.”
Sam took his phone out of his pocket and was already dialing while Dean talked. Kyle picked up on the second ring. “Sam?”
“Yeah. Listen, Bo’s hurt. Dean says drive down the side road to the right of the gate. We’re on the other side of the fence, near the end. Dean says there’s a place where the fence is cut. I’m not sure where exact—”
“I know the place,” Kyle interrupted. “I’m on my way.”
Sam clicked the phone closed. “He knows where the cut in the fence is. He’s on his way.”
Dean looked surprised, but pleased. “Okay, good. You go ahead and call 911, then we can carry him out to Kyle’s car.”
Nodding, Sam fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. He wished his hands wouldn’t shake so much. He told the operator Bo had been attacked by an unknown assailant, with what Sam believed to be a knife, just outside the fence on the north side of Fort Medina. It surprised him how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. Maybe because Bo’s injury and his unconscious state—and Sam’s resulting worry and fear—were all too true.
Once the operator hung up, Sam clicked his phone closed and pocketed it. “They’ll be here in five minutes. I hope this place isn’t far.” He glanced toward the road, which lay about twenty yards away on the other side of the chainlink fence.
At that moment, Bo stirred and opened his eyes. He blinked, looking confused. “Wh…? Where…? S-Sam?”
“Right here.” Giddy with relief, Sam leaned down to kiss Bo’s brow. “Bo, we need to move you, okay?”
Bo’s throat worked. “Sick.”
For a second, Sam had no idea what he meant. He got it just as Bo turned his head to the side. Sam held Bo’s head off the rocks while he threw up.
When he finished heaving up the contents of his stomach, Bo curled into a ball. Violent shudders shook his body. His lips looked almost purple, and Sam couldn’t tell if it was just the faint, sickly yellow light or something more sinister.
“Hurts,” Bo whispered, his voice raspy.
“I know it hurts.” Sam stroked Bo’s shoulder. “An ambulance is on the way. We just need to move you a little ways before they get here, all right?”
Bo nodded, his eyes fluttering closed. Dean, who still had his T-shirt pressed to Bo’s back, glanced toward the road. “Kyle’s coming. I can see his headlights. Let’s go ahead and start moving. We need to get Bo in the car and out of the elements. We’ll do what we can for that wound while we wait for the ambulance to get here.”
The thought of tending the bleeding slash in Bo’s back made Sam’s stomach roll, but he nodded. Moving as carefully as he could, he slipped an arm beneath Bo’s shoulders and hauled him into a sitting position. Bo let out a soft whimper.
“Sorry, baby.” Sam pulled Bo flush against his chest. Bo’s chilled cheek lolled on his shoulder. “Put your arms around me, okay? Hold on to me.”
With slow, obviously painful movements, Bo wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck. His ribs heaved in rapid, shallow breaths. Digging his shivering fingers into Sam’s shoulders, he buried his face in Sam’s neck. Icy lips brushed Sam’s skin.
Worried, Sam glanced up at Dean. “He’s really cold.”
“I know. It’s kind of strange.” Dean frowned, shifting along with Sam to keep the T-shirt pressed to Bo’s back as Sam hooked his other arm under Bo’s knees. “Or maybe not. Depends on how long he’s been out here. It’s not cold, even with the rain, but being out in it for a while could’ve dropped his temperature enough to be dangerous.”
Sam didn’t answer. A renewed fear for Bo’s life gave him the surge of strength he needed to stagger to his feet with Bo in his arms. Dean kept both arms pressed to the wound in Bo’s back.
Together, they made their way off the rocks and diagonally across the wide strip of grass to their destination. As they approached, Sam could see the place where a corner of the fence hung loose at the bottom next to one of the metal support poles. It wasn’t as far as he’d feared it would be, for which he was grateful. Bo was shorter and slimmer than Sam, but not by much, and Sam’s body was feeling the strain.
By the time they reached the spot, Kyle was there and had pulled a section of fence nearly as tall as himself loose from the pole. Long fingers hooked into the links, he lifted the loose part up and out as far as possible. “It was already loose when the guys and I found it last week,” he explained, looking guilty. “There were just a few pieces of wire twisted around to hold it down and make it look like it hadn’t been cut.”
Dean shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks, babe.”
Puffing with exertion, Sam shuffled through the opening. Dean moved with him, hunched over to keep from scratching his bare back on the broken ends of fence wire.
“Kyle, can you open the car door?” Dean lifted one arm a bit to check Bo’s wound. “Shit. This thing’s bleeding really bad. Kyle, babe, take this raincoat and lay it on the seat. Then get the blanket out. We’ll need to cover him.”
Kyle scrambled to do as Dean said. Pulling the raincoat off Bo’s legs, he flung the back door of his car open and spread the coat on the seat. He snatched a dark blue blanket off the floorboard and jumped out of the way.
“Dean, you’re going to have to move,” Sam said. “There’s not room enough for both of us in there.”
“You’re right. Hang on, I’ll get in on the other side and help you.”
Dean ran around to the other side of the car, his bloody T-shirt clutched in one hand. Grunting under the strain of Bo’s weight, Sam bent down and laid Bo’s upper body gently on top of th
e raincoat. Bo let out a little pained noise when his torn back came in contact with the wet plastic. By that time Dean was kneeling on the opposite seat. He grabbed the raincoat and pulled, sliding Bo fully onto the seat. If Bo’s sudden agonized cry affected him, he didn’t show it. Sam watched, wishing he could stop Bo’s suffering and hating that he couldn’t.
With one hand on Bo’s hip and the other beneath his shoulders, Dean rolled him onto his side, facing the back of the seat. “Kyle, hand Sam the blanket, would you please?”
Sam took the blanket from Kyle and tossed it over Bo’s legs. Dean arranged it so that Bo was completely covered except for his back. “Kyle, keep an eye out for the ambulance. Make sure they see us when they drive up. Sam, you try to keep Bo awake and talking. I need you to brace his chest too, so I can keep holding pressure on this cut.”
While Dean knelt on the floorboard, both forearms pressed to Bo’s back, Sam sat next to Bo’s head, leaned over and planted both hands on the vinyl between Bo and the back of the car seat. He stiffened his arms so that Bo’s chest was sandwiched between Dean’s arms and Sam’s. Bo gasped, his body going tense.
“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.”
Bo’s head tilted back, his eyes opening to fix on Sam’s face. “S…Sam. There was…a portal. I, I couldn’t…couldn’t stop it.”
Dean glanced at Bo, then Sam. He raised his eyebrows in question, but said nothing. “The portal’s closed,” Sam told them both. “I sent the thing back and closed the portal. I think it might be closed permanently. It feels the same now as the one at Sunset Lodge.”
A tiny smile curved Bo’s lips. He didn’t answer, but his shaking eased. He closed his eyes again.
Sam studied his face in continued concern. His lips didn’t look purple like they had outside, but the car’s bright overhead light showed a worrisome bluish tinge, and his face was gray beneath his normal dusky complexion. The parts of his skin not covered by the blanket were cool and mottled.
“Bo? You having any numbness in your hands or feet?” Dean’s voice sounded tight, and Sam figured the effort of keeping pressure on Bo’s wound must be tiring him.
Bo shook his head. “No. Cold. I’m cold. Not numb though.”
“Good.” Sam planted a kiss on Bo’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be all right, Bo.”
“You’ll probably need a blood transfusion.” Dean tossed his dripping hair out of his eyes. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. But I’m not seeing any sign of infection like we did with that bite, so that’s good.”
Bo licked his lips. “I f-feel. Weird. Wrong. Felt it…all night.”
Sam stared at Bo’s ashen face, heart racing. Instinct told him Bo’s feeling of wrongness had as much—or more—to do with his recent behavior as with the injury he’d sustained. And he had a sinking feeling it was all related somehow to the portal which had unexpectedly opened where there had been none before. The juxtaposition couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.
He felt as though his subconscious mind knew what the link was, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. If I could just think of it, maybe it would help Bo. Think, Sam, come on…
The sound of approaching sirens startled Sam out of his thoughts. He glanced up. Lights flashed red and white through the back window. Relief washed through him. “Thank God.”
Outside, Kyle ran toward the approaching ambulance. Sam could see him out the back window, waving his arms. The siren cut off. Sam heard the hiss of tires on the wet road, followed by the sound of the vehicle’s doors slamming.
“Bo?” Sam stroked Bo’s wet hair. “Bo, the ambulance is here. We’re gonna get you to the hospital now.”
There was no answer. As Sam watched, Bo’s body began to shake. Frowning, Sam looked more closely at Bo’s face. His jaw muscle was twitching, and this time there was no mistaking the alarming purple hue to his lips.
Sam shot a panicked look at Dean. “He doesn’t look very good.”
Dean craned his neck to look at Bo’s face. His eyes widened when Bo’s tremors spread into his arms. “Shit. Sam, you need to get out of the car now.”
Before Sam had a chance to ask why, a large hand grabbed his arm and yanked him none too gently out the door. “Sorry, sir, but I need to get in there.”
Sam stumbled out of the way and stood there trying to make out what was going on. The tall, broad-shouldered paramedic who’d pulled him out of the car was hunched over Bo’s upper body. On the other side of the seat, a young woman—the big man’s partner, evidently—straddled Bo’s legs. She took a syringe out of what looked like a toolbox and dipped out of view. Sam could see Bo’s arms and legs jerking, but he couldn’t see Bo’s face, and he was unable to tell what the paramedics were doing to him.
After what felt like years but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, Dean squirmed out through the front seat and came around to stand beside Sam. “He’s having a seizure,” Dean explained before Sam could ask. “I was able to tell them he’s not allergic to the medicine they needed to give him to stop it, but I didn’t know if he has anything else in his system or not.”
The look in Dean’s eyes was enough to tell Sam what he meant. Sam shook his head. “No, he didn’t. At least that’s what he said when I asked, and I believe him.”
“Good. We can let the paramedics know once they have him stabilized.” Dean lowered his voice until Sam could barely hear it above the wind. “I told them the same thing you told the 911 operator. That Bo was attacked and that you were here and witnessed part of it, but couldn’t see exactly what happened because he was under the trees where it was dark. Other than that, I told the truth.”
Nodding, Sam squeezed Dean’s arm. “Thank you.”
Kyle edged up to join them, shoulders hunched against the windblown rain. “Dean? Do y’all need me to drive you to the hospital?”
“Probably so, yeah. I don’t know if Bo has his car keys with him or left ’em in the car, but either way we don’t really have time to find out. They’re gonna be loading him into the ambulance any minute now.” Dean took Kyle’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Do you mind? If you can’t drive us that’s okay, we’ll get a cab or something.”
“No, I don’t mind at all.” Kyle glanced at his car, chewing on his bottom lip. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
Dean didn’t answer, and Sam’s heart clenched. If Dean couldn’t muster enough optimism to reassure the boy, Bo must be worse off than Sam had thought.
Don’t think about it. You’ll drive yourself and everyone else crazy if you do.
As Sam watched, the two paramedics eased Bo out of the backseat, lying strapped in on his side on a narrow gurney. The folding legs of the gurney snapped open, the wheels hit the wet pavement, and the medics rolled it toward the ambulance. The man held an IV bag in one hand, feeding fluids into a vein in Bo’s arm. Clear tubing ran from an oxygen mask over Bo’s nose and mouth to a green tank sitting on the stretcher beside him. A large bandage was secured to Bo’s back with what looked like elastic tape.
Sam trotted over, Dean and Kyle at his heels. “Is he okay?”
The female paramedic—Julia, according to the nametag pinned to her shirt—glanced at Sam while she and her partner loaded Bo into the ambulance. “He’s breathing and his vital signs are stable, but he’s unconscious. That’s probably partly the seizure and partly the lorazepam we gave him to stop it.”
“Your friend there said Bo was unconscious for a little while before the seizure,” the man said from inside the vehicle. “Did he hit his head when he fell?”
“No. Well, not that I know of,” Sam amended. “The…um, the attack happened right after I got here. I’d just spotted him. But I caught him before he hit the ground so if he did hit his head it wasn’t then.”
“What about the attacker? Did they hit him in the head?”
“I don’t think so. I just saw…a shadow behind Bo. It looked like whoever it was stabbed him with a big knife or something. Oh, and he has
n’t taken any medications or anything. Dean said you asked.”
“We did, thank you.” With Bo safely in the ambulance, Julia turned and touched Sam’s arm. “We’re taking him to the hospital in Foley. It’s about thirty miles away, but it’s the closest one we can get to from here. Y’all know how to get there?”
“I do.” Dean grabbed Sam’s elbow, stopping his protest. “We’ll follow you as far as we can, but if we lose you I can get us there.”
The young woman nodded. “Good. Oh, are you relatives of his?”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other. Dean grimaced. “We’re just friends. He’s divorced, his sons are minors, and I have no idea how to get in touch with his parents. Hell, I don’t even know if he has brothers and sisters.”
“Three sisters,” Sam added, wrapping his arms around himself. “I don’t know how to reach them, though.”
“Hm. Well, it’s okay for right now, but you may need to find his next of kin if he doesn’t come around.” Julia slammed the ambulance doors shut. “We’re going. We’ll tell them you’re on your way. What’re your names?”
“I’m Dean Delapore,” Dean said. “This is Sam Raintree and Kyle DuPree.”
“Got it.” She gave them a smile. “Try not to worry. We’ll take good care of him.” She turned and jogged to the driver’s side door.
Sam followed Dean and Kyle to Kyle’s car and climbed into the backseat. A few drops of blood dotted the gray vinyl seat. It amazed Sam that there wasn’t more. Most of it seemed to be puddled on Dean’s raincoat.
Picking up Dean’s ruined T-shirt from the floorboard where it had fallen, Sam wadded it into the middle of the raincoat. The blanket seemed to be largely blood-free, so he left it on the floor. He told himself he was trying to keep Kyle’s car as clean as possible, but the truth was he didn’t think he could stand to look at Bo’s blood any longer. It made him focus on the fact that Bo was gravely injured, and there was no guarantee he’d be all right.
This is exactly what I was afraid of. Exactly. I know he shouldn’t be here. I knew we should’ve left. Why didn’t he listen to me?