I Never Meant You Harm - Prologue
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Dean hated hospitals. He hated everything about them. The smells, the noises, the sick people, and the doctors. The doctors were the worst. The doctors asked questions. Questions, that Dean could live without answering. Questions, that Dean didn't want to answer. Dean would love all to well, to just tell the doctors to mind their own damn business. Dean hated hospitals.
Dean sat slouched in a hard green plastic waiting room chair. Dean sat waiting. On the list of things Dean hated, waiting was number one, and hospitals number two. Dean wasn't a patient person. As he sat against the hard chair, Dean longed to stand up, or move. Anything but sitting and waiting. He wanted desperately to just jump up, and demand someone tell him something. Dean wanted to demand some kind of action from the doctors.
The crowded waiting room kept him seated. Causing a scene wouldn't help matters. It would only cause more problems, bigger problems. Dean had already done enough already to make matters worse. He didn't need to add fuel to the already blazing fire.
Dean was trying to wait patiently. Dean was trying to not glare. Dean was trying to keep his leg from jerking. Dean was trying not to clench his fists. Dean was trying.
"Winchester!" A nurse yelled out over the noisy waiting room. The sound causing Dean to jump up immediately.
"Yes," Dean answered, as he approached the nurse.
"Winchester?" The nurse asked for confirmation.
"I'm his brother," Dean offered.
"Follow me then," the nurse turned, and led Dean down a long hallway.
The hallway seemed to go on for miles. Door after door passed by, until it felt like one of those cartoon chases, where the background keeps repeating. Dean followed the plump nurse until she stopped outside one of the doors.
"In here," she motioned, as she opened the door. "The doctor will be with you in a moment."
Dean entered the room, and heard the door close behind him. Inside was an office. The plate on the desk showed that it belonged to a Dr. Willard. Other then the desk, the only other furniture was a chair on one side of the desk, and two hard plastic chairs on the other. Dean sat down in one of the hard chairs. Slouching down, he prepared himself for more waiting. A moment in doctors terms could be anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours. Drumming his fingers on the arm rest, Dean almost gave into the urge to start pacing the room.
Just when Dean felt like he was ready to lose his mind a doctor entered the office, causing him to jump up from the chair. The man seemed to be in his forties, a rather tall man, his hair starting to grey, and a pair of round glasses perched on his nose.
"Mr. Winchester," the doctor asked.
"Yes, I'm Dean," the man spoke, as he shook the offered hand.
"Please have a seat," Dr. Willard motioned.
Dean sat down once more against the chair, fighting the urge not to slouch this time. The doctor also took a seat, and began thumbing through a folder. Dean caught a glance of the name Winchester. This continued for several minutes, the doctor looking at the papers, and Dean fighting not to strangle the man.
"Please," Dean finally barked. "Tell me, how is my brother? How is Sammy?"
The doctor took off his glasses, and fixed Dean with a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry Dean, but I have some bad news concerning your brother."
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