Disclaimer: I own nothing. Whedon and Kripke created the characters, the pictures came from Google Images.
A/N: All secrets eventually have to come to an end. Timeline for this is roughly six months after The People That Make Us Strong, beginning of Season 2 for SPN, the episode "In My Time of Dying". Things are fairly AU after that, if I continue this anyway, which I’m thinking now that I will… Hope you likes!
Sam stared at Dean, lying motionless in the hospital bed, the quiet beeps of the machines counting off his heartbeats. His tough older brother was pale and still, hooked up to way too many wires and tubes, a ventilator breathing for him and Sam finally had to look away. He picked up Dean's cell phone from the table beside the bed, turning it on and wondering if there was someone Dean would want him to call. He scrolled through the contacts on the touch screen, recognizing the names of other hunters, a few people they'd saved in the past, Bobby of course. The ICE contact, as in "In Case of Emergency" caught his eye and Sam opened it. Sam's number was first, then John's and Bobby's. The fourth number didn't have a name and Sam clicked on it. A beautiful brunette lounging on a bed in black lingerie appeared on the screen, looking back over her shoulder at the camera.
Honestly, a picture of a half naked girl on Dean's phone shouldn't be surprising, but the fact that there was no name and that the number was an emergency contact had Sam baffled. Hesitating only for a moment, he hit send and dialed the number. Two rings and a husky female voice answered.
"Damn, Winchester, it's been two weeks," she said, with just a hint of a Boston accent. "Wondered when the hell you were gonna call."
"Um," Sam said and there was a moment of silence before the voice returned and gone was the flirty tone. In its place was pure steel and not a little distrust.
"Who the hell is this? Where's Dean? How'd you get his phone?" she demanded.
"This is Sam, his brother. Dean- He's been in an accident. I found your number in his phone, but- well, there was no name. Who is this?"
She hesitated before answering.
Faith scribbled the name of the hospital on the first thing she could find, her hand and then she hung up the phone, her heart pounding so hard in her chest that it hurt. She was in her room at Slayer Central when Dean's ringtone had sounded and now she ran down the hall to the library, knowing she'd find what she was after there.
"Red!" she shouted and sure enough, Willow popped her head up from behind a stack of books.
Sam had no idea where Faith had come from, but she appeared in the hospital with a red haired girl only an hour after he'd spoken to her. She was just as beautiful as her photo on Dean's phone, but instead of dark lined bedroom eyes, the look she gave him was serious and worried.
"You're Sam," she said and even though it wasn't a question, he nodded. "Where is he?" she asked and Sam led her a few yards down the hall and pushed open the door to Dean's room.
Faith approached the bed slowly. The sight of Dean lying there was making her stomach clench. It seemed wrong for him to be so still. She'd had Willow transport them with a spell and now, standing over Dean, she was glad Red was there with them. She had a feeling they were going to need a little magical help.
"The doctors say he's not going to wake up," Sam was saying and Faith spoke without turning.
"Yes, he is. Red, what can you do?"
It was a good thing John Winchester was still confined to his hospital bed, because Sam was fairly sure his father would blow a gasket at the sight of the witch casting spells on Dean. Still, Sam was open to anything that might help and, given what he’d seen on Faith’s face when she looked at Dean, he didn’t think it could hurt. It was a little surreal, watching the small red haired young woman draw symbols on Dean’s bare chest with lipstick (the only thing they could find that would write in red) and chant in a language that was close to Latin, but different, older, more primal. Sam stood back, but Faith didn’t bother, sitting as close as possible to Dean without touching him, watching his face, her eyes sharp for any change.
The witch, Willow (“Only Faith and Spike call me Red”) chanted louder, her voice raising in a crescendo and Sam could feel a pressure in the room, not unlike an altitude change. Just when his ears were starting to hurt there was an almost audible popping and the pressure was gone, Willow was slumping over, apparently exhausted and Dean began to cough and choke as his eyes flew open and he fought to breathe around the tube in his throat.
His voice was gravelly, rough, from the tube, but no sound had ever been so sweet. Sam had started to call for the nurse when he woke, but Faith didn’t wait, simply grasped the end of the tube and drew it smoothly out of his throat. He gagged and coughed, but the horrible tension left his body and he let his head fall back against the pillow, taking several deep breaths before he spoke.
“Faith,” he said, looking up at her, then over at Sam and finally down at Willow. A familiar and very welcome wry smirk twisted his lips then and Faith had to grin back when he raised an eyebrow at her. “Guess the secret’s out, huh?”