Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the following story. All characters belong to Eric Kripke and co. Any references you recognize obviously do not belong to me either. No money was made and no Winchester was actually hurt in the making of this little ditty.

Author's notes: This story is unattached from any of my other stories and does not make any real references to anything. No spoilers here folks.

The story came about between the hours of 2am and 8am sitting in the waiting room of the local emergency room. My father is fine now but the minutes seemed to take an ungodly amount of time to get through. Thankfully he's fine but this is what my mind does in times like that - spin a tale of silly and weird improbabilities. This is a very different version of the original as there will be no flying monkeys or dancing donkeys in this story. LOL. Enjoy the following.

Dazed and Confused

By infinite shadow

"Just take a seat out here and I'll update you on your brother's condition in a moment," the nurse said as she waved at some chairs in the waiting room.

The teen watched the woman, Heather? Nancy? Betty?, walk away with a glassy glare before taking a seat. His heat hurt, hell his whole body ached. What was it that made every spirit want to slam him into bookshelves anyway?

He stifled a groan as he rested his sore head in his hands and closed his eyes. He didn't want to be here. He absolutely loathed places like this but he'd been beyond treating his wounds let alone his brothers.

His head felt thick and thinking felt like swimming through chocolate pudding. He blanched as his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at the mere thought of the sweet desert. Letting go of a quiet belch he swallowed hard against the nausea that continually threatened to creep up his throat, then straightened up in the seat. The boy sighed heavily as he slowly came to a sad conclusion. Dad was gonna have his head on a pike. There was no question about that. Then again that might be an improvement to how his head was feeling at the moment.

Right now he was very afraid of his own father, a fear that he felt was completely rational and justified. Partly because he'd let his brother get hurt and partly because both brothers were currently confined to quarters after the last prank went wrong.

He gave a soft snort and a slight shake of his head. Dad just had to pick up the paper that had been doctored with a colourless and odourless heat activated dye. Their father's hand ended up neon green and remained so three weeks later. The grounding was to continue until the horrific colour was gone from their father's hand. To this day it still looked rather bright and ridiculous.

Which was why, in a short moment of clarity, he'd given them Bobby's number to call and not his Dad's. Regardless Bobby was closer than his father was at the moment. He also knew Bobby would give him some time for his head to return to normal before giving him the hell he deserved. And it was deserved. It was his research that had led them to the job tonight which had obviously been lacking in a few details.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he looked over hoping it was the nurse. What he saw was an orderly mopping down the floor back and forth in a rhythm to the music in her headphones. Swish to the left. Swish to the right. Swish, swish, swish. Side to side. Over and over. The young man gave himself a shake as he found himself mesmerized by the actions.

He looked straight ahead and saw vending machines. Just the usual ones you'd expect in a place like this. There was one for coffee and one for candy and snacks. He frowned as he started at the candy and snack machine. Something was way off on it but he couldn't seem to put his finger on it.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face then winced at the fresh pain that little move caused. He bolted up from his seat when he saw the nurse come out from the restricted area that he was not allowed to go.

"M'brother?" The teen asked anxiously.

"Have a seat Mr. James. Sam is going to be a while yet," the nurse said then looked down at the file in her hand.

Dean wanted to press, hell he knew he should be busting down the double doors and finding his little brother to make sure he was going to be ok. But he was suddenly distracted as the vending machine began to hum. The eighteen year old frowned heavily. Was that Metallica?

"Cindy Walker?" The nurse said as she looked up from the file to the only other person in the waiting room.

A very pale young woman holding a bloody towel to her arm struggled to stand up.

Dean's attention turned back to the nurse as she quickly grabbed a wheelchair and hurried over to help the woman. With an odd detached feeling he thought he should be helping her somehow but he didn't. A moment later the girl was seated and they hurried past him disappearing behind the double doors that he wasn't allowed to cross.

Momentarily confused as to what he should be doing right now he scratched at his cheek. His fingers came away slightly wet with blood. Dean swayed slightly as he stared at the shiny redness on his fingers. Frowning he looked up hoping that Dad or Sammy would hand him a bandage.

"Hey kid," a gruff voice said from behind him. "Think you'd best be sitting down."

Dean turned a little too quickly in surprise. He gasped as the room tilted and spun dangerously around him. The next thing he knew Bobby was kneeling in front of him and he was sitting in a chair.

"B-bobby?" Dean asked as his slightly foggy mind tried to figure out how the junk yard man knew they were there. Then stopped. Thinking just made his head hurt worse. His friend was here who cares how he knew.

"Yeah," the man answered guardedly as he watched the boy in front of him with concern. "How ya feelin'?"

Dean sighed and was prepared to tell him the usual lie of I'm fine but surprised himself. "Don't feel so good."

Bobby nodded sympathetically. "That would explain why you look like crap."

"Ha-ha," Dean replied with a half hearted glare.

"So where's Sam?" The man asked softly still looking worried.

Dean shrugged and bit back swear words as pain lanced through his shoulder, arm, back and chest. His breathing hitched painfully as he tried to ride out the pain.

"Lemme guess," Bobby drawled. "You got tossed into a bookshelf which dislocated your right shoulder, broke your hand and bruised some ribs with a possible concussion?"

Slowly the teen's eyes opened. "Got it in one."

The older hunter nodded and with a heavy sigh stood up. "So where's Sam," he asked again.

"Dunno. He's somewhere back there," Dean waived at the doors that said no admittance. "Nurse said he'd be a while."

"Ok then," Bobby said as he held out his hand. "Then you'll have time to tell me all about it while we clean you up."

Dean frowned as he blinked up at his friend.

"The side of your face has dried blood and dirt on it and the other side is bleeding outright, among other things," Bobby said pointedly. "Let's go kid."

Dean blinked sluggishly for a moment before realizing Bobby wanted him to go wash his face. Ok, he could do that. The bathroom was only a few steps away and Bobby could tell him if the nurse came with information on his little brother.

A half hour later with a new bandage on his cheek Dean was sitting in the waiting room with Bobby. The hunter was thumbing through a magazine next to him and the teen couldn't take his eyes off the machine directly in front of them.

The coffee machine didn't bother the young man. It served up a horrible cup of coffee that Bobby was having difficulty getting down. It was normal for that kind of machine. Dean knew. He'd sucked back enough of the vile liquid in similar situations before in different waiting rooms all over for most of his life.

The problem was the snack machine. It blinked at him. He knew things were fuzzy but he knew without a doubt they weren't supposed to wink at you. Two little yellow lights just above the dollar bill slot were winking at him. A set of two blinks, then a pause, then they would wink at him and then go through the cycle all over again.

The teen knew that it wasn't normal. It was just plain wrong. He knew without a doubt that he was a fine looking man, but never had a machine winked at him before. He blinked and suddenly there were three machines. They were multiplying!

"Possessed," Dean muttered. He could fix this. He just needed to get the right weapon out of the trunk. He slumped forward in order to get up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bobby asked as he put an arm across his chest to stop the boy from moving.

Dean looked over at the man. He couldn't be serious. Couldn't he see what was going on here? "Didn't ... I mean just look at it... We havta deal with it Bobby before anyone else comes in."

Bobby looked over at the machine that had the boy so agitated. "Dean if you're hungry we'll make a run to the cafeteria."

"No," Dean hissed in reply. "They're multiplying!"

"Uh huh," the man said as he took a closer look at the boy. Uneven pupils, pale, sweaty and double vision. Yup Dean was definitely showing signs of concussion.

"Bobby," Dean hissed again then looked over as an ambulance crew came through the emergency doors and into the no admittance area.

With a slight sigh Bobby moved his arm and put it around the kid's shoulders. "Kid just lean back and relax. Maybe you could get some rest before you're brother's released."

"But the machine," the teen tried to protest.

"Trust me boy there's nothing wrong here except the nasty blow you took on your noggin," Bobby said.

Dean looked from his friend to the machine and back. He did trust Bobby without question. With a tired sigh he shifted down his the chair a little and closed his eyes.

Bobby waited a few minutes before Dean's breathing evened out and shifted the teen against him in a more comfortable position. He held his breath as the boy stiffened slightly and mumbled something unintelligible before relaxing again. He glanced at the clock and made a mental note to wake him in an hour.

It was almost two hours later before Sam was brought out to the waiting room.

"Uncle Bobby?" Sam said pleasantly surprised and relieved to see their family friend waiting for him instead of his father. Then did a double take as he realized his big brother was sleeping with his head against Bobby's chest.

"Hey Sammy," Bobby said warmly with a concerned grin.

"Is he concussed?" Sam asked knowing his brother didn't snuggle up to anyone without huge breasts and long legs. He smiled slightly thankful that his brother hadn't had to spend all this time alone. Too bad he didn't have a camera though. The precious moment in front of him could be great fodder for torment later.

"Yeah. You?"

Sam sighed tiredly. "Nope. Just lots of stitches all over and uh this," he said and held up a hand. His middle finger and ring finger were bound together in a metal splint.

"What are we gonna do with you two?" Bobby said.

"Nothin," Dean mumbled as he groggily sat up. "Dad's gonna skin us alive f'sure when he findz out. So you don need ta do nothin."

Sam's eyebrows went up slightly. "Unless you called him?" He asked and silently prayed the man hadn't.

"Well the hospital did call me and I did try to call your old man cause if you guys are actually seeking medical help it's serious, but he's conveniently out of cell range," the man replied. "Come on you two. We'll get your stuff from the motel and you can stay with me for a while."

"Really?" Dean said as he staggered to a standing position. Bobby's place was a playground of car parts, hunting stuff and more importantly really neat shiny weapons. "Cool."

"Yeah cool," Sam agreed looking forward to some down time at Bobby's. As an added bonus there was a reprieve from facing Dad who was going to go absolutely ballistic when he found out what happened.

Bobby grinned slightly and shook his head at the reaction of the two boys. As Dean began to slip back he reached out and steadied the older boy. He looked over to see Sam holding up his brother on the other side as well. While the younger brother looked completely exhausted and bruised he seemed otherwise ok.

After exchanging a nod with the younger boy the three hunters headed out the door and into the cool morning.