Chapter 6, Lieutenant Harry Stamper had been a firefighter for most of his life. Options

[Ithiel Dragon]

Lieutenant Harry Stamper had been a firefighter for most of his life. His father had been a firefighter. So had his grandfather. His two younger brothers had joined the force as soon as they were old enough, and even his son wanted to go into training once he was out of school. So it was safe to say that he and his family had seen their share of disasters over the years.

But this... there was just something unearthly about this fire.

The apartment buildings just outside the college campus were cheap for a reason, most of the students attending Stanford University spent all their hard earned money on school and there wasn’t much left over for other expenses. Still, while the apartments were cheap they were maintained well and were well up to regulations. However between the time the station got the call and they arrived at the site, nearly the entire building was consumed in flames. The fire spread so quickly it was like the walls were made out of cardboard rather than plaster and cement.

The hoses were barely able to beat back the flames before more rose up in their place. They’d called in another truck to help, but Harry wasn’t certain that it would arrive in time before the building came down on top of itself. The best they might be able to hope for is to try to keep the fire from spreading to the neighboring buildings.

At least the fire had happened in the middle of the day in the middle of the spring break, most of the residents were not home when the fire broke out. Many of the residents who were home had managed to get out by themselves, but could only stand and watch helplessly as what little they owned went up in smoke. Other firefighters had gone in and pulled out a few more residents who had been trapped inside, but thankfully the worst injuries so far seemed to be a few second degree burns.

They were still searching for anyone who might be trapped inside, but the structure was becoming increasingly unstable. He would be forced to call off the search soon or risk his own men being buried inside the flaming rubble when the building came down.

At this point the last thing Harry would have expected was a young man pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered and running past him, heading towards the burning building. The lieutenant was so shocked he didn’t react for a split second and then barely managed to catch the young man by the arm and stop him before he got himself killed.

"You can’t go in there son! The building is coming down!" Harry yelled the obvious over roar of the flames.

[BlackRain88]

When Sam saw the state of the building he used to live in, a total wave of shock enveloped him, freezing him in place. It was covered in flames. At first, he couldn't believe it. No, it couldn't be... it just couldn't be. The bright light of the flames burned into his eyes as he just kept staring. It was all he felt he COULD do. It was so surreal. It almost felt as if he was floating above his own body and not watching the circumstances around him.

Then fear snapped through his body. It felt sharp, hot, as if he'd grabbed the bottom of a frying pan with his bare hands. He looked around sharply, eyes searching for any sign of his brother or the love of his life. Nothing. They weren't amoungst the other observers. Oh god! What if they were in the fire!? He had to save them! He bolted for the burning building then without a single thought about his own safety. Only one thing mattered to him. Getting Jess and Dean back to safety. He had to hurry as well, before the whole thing collapsed and if he died in the process... so be it.

Then there was someone grabbing at his arm, trying to stop him. He let out an animalistic scream and fought against them, only to have the arms tighten around his frame. He kicked, bit, and clawed at whoever the hell was keeping him back, keeping him from SAVING the two people that mattered most to him in the world.

"I HAVE TO SAVE THEM! LET ME GO!!!" he screamed.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Blood...

Blood on his hands. Blood on his face. Covering him. Covering the floor. Covering the sheets. His own. The girls. It was like a dream... the dream... but not.

In the dream all he could smell was blood, heavy and metallic, in the air. But now all he could smell was the thick black smoke that filled his lungs with every shallow inhale. Choking him. In the dream all he could feel was the sticky wetness of the blood on his hands. Tasting it. But now all he felt was heat and all he could taste was ash. In the dream he’d felt satisfaction looking down at the girl’s dead body, knowing he’d killed her, but now all he felt was... burning... pain... fear...

The fire... it had all happened so quickly...

Dean blinked his eyes open slowly, his eyes stinging and watering so badly he could barely keep them open. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the flames or the blood dripping into them. He coughed. Trying to clear his lungs, but it didn’t help. He had to get out. He had to... he pushed himself up from the bedroom floor, his fingers sliding against the bloody knife when he moved but he ignored it. He crawled weakly, coughing, unable to breathe, and only made it as far as the living room before he collapsed again, his vision swimming in and out of focus.

He thought he smelled burning flesh. He wasn’t sure if it was his own or the girl’s. The way she’d screamed... Dean had almost felt sorry for her...

He was going to die. The monsters would finally get what they wanted. Sam... Sam...

[BlackRain88]

Sam struggled against the firefighter's hold even more. This person, whoever the hell he was, was NOT going to keep him from the people he loved, the people that were dying. NO NO NO! Finally, he turned and kicked. He heard a satiisfying crunch and slight noise of pain. Then... a loosening grip. With a cry, he pushed himself from the other and threw himself into the building, running, running.

Heat... everywhere. All he could feel was heat. All he could smell was smoke. He took his shirt and covered his nose, still running. Wouldn't be good if he couldn't breathe long enough to save them.... In his periphrial vision, he saw flames lickign the walls, thick and bright orange, like monsters.

They didn't matter. All that mattered was Dean and Jess. Them. He ran... ran... ran. FInally, he saw a door, THE door. He threw it open and ran inside. He saw him on the floor. DEAN! He wanted to scream his name, but his voice caught in his throat. He couldn't say anything, only move, and move he did. He ran to Dean's side, turned him over to see if he was alive. He was, but covered in blood. SO MUCH BLOOD! He sobbed, but Dean was moving. Thank God!

He picked him up. Where was she? Where was Jess? He had to save her too! He ran into her room and saw... her body... It was covered in flames... blackened... sticky... the smell. OH GOD! The horrible smell of burning flesh filled his lungs. There was no way she was alive. She was quiet blackness and burning bones... flesh, and blood. He sobbed, standing still for precious seconds before survival instincts kicked in when a flame eaten part of the ceiling fell in. Not for him though, for Dean. Dean had to live.

Holding Dean like a precious doll, he ran from the building, covering Dean's nose with his shirt to breathe through. He ran ran ran. More ceiling fell in behind him. He ran faster. His legs stumbled and almost tripped on his way down the stairs, but somehow kept him upright. FInally, he was out.

At first, when they tried to take his brother from him, he screamed, the first real noise leaving his lips in the last couple of minutes. He kept him from them, trying to somehow fight them back. Then some sane part at the back of his mind told him that these people would help Dean... Help him live.

They wanted to take him too. Aparently he was coughing a lot and had burns on his arms... He hadn't noticed, hadn't cared. Hell, he hadn't even felt them. THey put him in the ambulance with Dean as they drove off.

Finally, the world caught up with him. He felt pain in his muscles. His arms were sore and blistered. His whole body.... And he was coughing... a lot. There was a mask pressed over his mouth. At first he tried to get it off, but then he breathed in clean air. He sucked at it desperately. His eyes shifted over and locked on Dean as the paramedics put a mask over his own face and checked him for injuries.

[Ithiel Dragon]

The roar of the flames was almost deafening. It sounded like the vengeful cries of all the monsters that Dean had killed. Laughing. Jeering. As the flames licked at his flesh, burning him, and Dean tried to crawl away but the flames were everywhere and he was so damned tired. Everything was dark despite the brightness of the fires surrounding him. Every shallow inhaled breath was a struggle. At first, he thought he only imagined the feel of strong hands turning him over. The sudden movement made him cry out in pain but it caught in his throat and only came out in a low moan instead, easily lost in the fire along with everything else.

Sam? Was it Sam? He thought he saw his brother’s terrified face swimming in and out of the darkness in front of him, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was only what Dean wanted to see. But, no, Dean didn’t want Sam here. If the fire didn’t get his brother, then the monsters would. Sam had to leave, he had to leave now. Dean tried to tell his brother to leave, but no sound would come out of his closing throat other than another low moan when Sam picked him up.

Everything happened in a blur then, or maybe he simply passed in and out of consciousness. Sam holding him carefully as he ran through the flames… Dean kept expecting Sam to drop him because he knew how heavy he was, but Sam never let him go. Then suddenly they were outside. He only knew because the afternoon sun practically blinded him, since the heat and smoke didn’t feel any less. Maybe they were still inside, in the fire, after all and he was just hallucinating? Or dying?

No, he wasn’t hallucinating or dying. They were really outside. Sam was safe. Thank god… but why was his brother screaming? Dean heard the voices of others, even though he couldn’t understand what they were saying, felt their hands on him, and he wanted to fight them, to stay with Sam, but he was so weak he couldn’t move. He could still barely breathe…

He felt like he was floating, then he was moving again, but it was different. Something was pressed over his face, and the sudden rush of oxygen being forced into his lungs was painful and he started to cough, but little by little his breaths came easier. It was amazing how something so simple like breathing could be so exhausting. He wanted nothing more than to sleep but… Sam…

Dean managed to turn his head slightly, and even though he could barely see in blurry images he knew it when his eyes fell on Sam. His brother was here. Sam was safe. Dean would keep his brother safe, always.

It was his last thought before Dean finally lost consciousness.

[BlackRain88]

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam vaguely remembered slight pain and being given pills for... hell, he hadn't been paying attention, so he wasn't quite sure. Probably something for pain. Pain... If only they could take away the pain on the inside, then Sam could maybe find some use for them. Right now, his arm could have been falling off and he wouldn't care.

All he cared about was finding Dean. As soon as they let him out of his room, he raced over to him. Was he awake? Was he conscious? He asked the doctor standing in his brother's room. Pale, chapped lips started moving to form words. he tuned out, only catching words out of the sentences.

"Burns... treatment... lucky... if you hadn't found him..."

Sam turned away, taking Dean's hand in his, being careful not to move the bandaged arm to cause pain. Dean's eyes were closed anyway. Would it have mattered to him?

"How long does he have to stay?"

"We'll have to keep him here for a week at least."

Sam nodded.

"When will he wake up?"

"It's hard to tell."

Sam nodded again numbly. This was all his fault. He houldn't have freaking left. If he hadn't, none of this would have happened. He took a seat and just waited. Waited for his brother to just... open his eyes. Sorrow and guilt ran through his body and got locked in his stomach, making him want to throw up. He didn't know how long he waited there, but it seemed like an eternity and at the same time, as if no time had passed at all. Eventually, he tarted talking.

"I'm sorry... I wasn't there for you. I should have been there. I should have... taken care of you better."

A tear or two slipped from his eyes and down his cheeks. His lips parted into a sad smile and he wiped them away, his expression changing into one of misery and regret.

"You came to me for help and instead of helpig you, coming to me almost got you burned alive."

His voice broke, taking a tearful tone to his dialogue.

"I want to help you so bad. You seem so... broken all the time. So angry and lonely... I want to fix you... just... make everything better...." He sobbed. "Don't know why I'd ever think I could... Hell, I can't even take care of you like Dad could... God, I miss him... I miss him so much... You're all I have left. I don't want to loose you because I fucked up..."

Oh God, and on top of everything, Jess was dead. His love was dead.

"Everything's goingso crazy... falling apart..."

He stopped talking then, fading into silence. Dean probably wasn't awake anyway. He grabbed a tissue and blew his nose, continuing to cry for everyone he'd lost... and almost lost. He kept telling himself that he still had Dean, but... what if Dean was already gone? After that argument with Jess, after everything that happened between them, would Dean even want Sam to stick around?

Sam didn't really care about that though. If his brother was angry or even hated him, so be it. All he wanted right now was for his brother to be OKAY.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Oddly enough, the first thing he became aware of was smells. Cold, sterile, antiseptic smells. Smells he knew well. Smells he hated. Beneath that however were fainter smells, clinging to his hair and skin like a ghost shroud. The smells of smoke and ash, burnt wood, and burnt flesh…

The next thing he became aware of were sounds. A faint steady beeping keeping the same rhythm of his heart. The mechanical whoosh of the machine feeding oxygen into his lungs. A soft voice, hurting, full of pain… but he heard all these things as though they were very far away. At the other end of a long dark tunnel…

After that came the pain. Pain in his arms. Pain in his legs. Pain in his chest. Pain in his head. He hurt everywhere. The skin under the wrappings on his arm he knew was blistered. His lungs still hurt with every shallow breath he took from the smoke that had filled them. A migraine like headache pounded behind his closed eyes.

Voices. Machines. They seemed closer now than before. One voice in particular. The only voice he really cared about.

Sam…

“Sam…” His brother’s name escaped his lips barely louder than a breath. Dean didn’t want to open his eyes, he knew his head would not thank him, but he had to. He had to see…

[BlackRain88]

A faint sound met Sam's ears. A whisper, if that. It was his name. Dean? Was Dean awake? He leaned over, taking his brother's hand and giving it a gentle touch. Was it really Dean? Was he awake? Did he just speak to him? It could have just been his imagination. After all, he wanted to hear Dean's voice so badly it could have been his mind trying to give him some comfort from the despair Sam seemed to be stuck in.

"Dean?" Sam asked, wanting desperately to hear his brother speak again. Say his name, insult him, anything, just speak again.

He traced the tips of his fingers along the back of Dean's skin delicately, as if the man before him would shatter if he weren't too careful. Silence... Maybe it was just his imagination... maybe...

"Dean? It's me, Sam. I'm right here for you Dean. I'm right here."

He cleared his throat slightly. His voice was so damn emotional. Dean would probably mock him for it in some way. Sam realized he didn't care about that either. As long as his brother said ANYTHING, he would be happy. Just a word, one more whisper.