It's a new story…YAY! does a terribly awkward dance of joy
It's different from anything I've written before, but it's been in the back of my mind for at least a month now and it just has to get out. I hope you can all enjoy it! And please know that it's gonna be long…I'm not very good at stopping myself when I start one of these things! It's all mapped out already and there will be a few more people thrown in the mix. I think it's going to be good…but hey, I'm a little biased.
I love reviews…they make my muse do his own little dance, and we like it when he does his dance because he looks a lot like Ackles. I know, drool now So please send me reviews… they make the story better and the author write faster (as soon as the muse stops dancing).
(I know it's a little raw, right now, but give me a chapter to find my mojo again.)
Anyhow, please enjoy and let me know what you think!! Now go on, read the chapter…
He sat quietly replaying that night over and over again in his mind; cold, sanitized hospital air chilling his bones. In two weeks he'd found no answers to any of his questions, no reason for the turn their lives had taken and no explanation for the mess they were in. After it happened he'd spent two days denying to himself that he may not be able to fix anything and a dozen after that afraid that he was right. He rarely left the room lest he miss something, and until this morning had only spoken to Bobby, now Ellen as well. It had been two weeks of fear and denial and searching and digging and still he had nothing. But something in his heart told him that if he looked hard enough, turned over enough stones, poked into the right corners something would come up.
"Water," the frail but familiar voice broke the silence and dragged Dean back to reality. He got up and crossed the room to Sam's bedside.
"Water. Water." He droned the single word over and over, an improvement from the silence of last week.
Dean poured water from a pitcher into a blue plastic cup and held it to Sam's lips, "Here you go Sammy". He tipped the cup and Sam started to drink slowly. "Alright," he pulled the cup away from Sam and watched him smile. The empty smile of someone who wasn't there anymore.
"You want to eat something? The nurse brought your favorite, grilled cheese." Dean pushed for his brother to eat. Sam didn't say anything or even turn to look at the food, just opened his mouth.
"No, I'm not gonna feed you Sammy. You're a big boy, you can do it yourself. Here." He held a triangle of sandwich out to Sam and sighed when he took it. He put a straw in the tiny milk jug and placed it in front of his brother, "Don't touch it Sammy, just drink through the straw."
Sam didn't respond, he never responded. Dean sat back under the window leaving Sam to the task at hand. He pulled the sandwich to himself, hand shaking and lips twitching, and missed his mouth. The second try he got a bite and chewed up the sandwich like a starving man.
Dean watched with a broken heart as his grown brother fought against himself to accomplish the simple task of eating. It took nearly thirty minutes and almost all of his energy for the food to disappear and for Sam to fall back asleep. When he was sure his brother was out cold, Dean snuck out to get his own sandwich and coffee.
He was barely gone ten minutes, but when he came back Ellen was sitting at Sam's bedside, not touching or talking to him, just watching him sleep.
"Hey Ellen", Dean whispered.
"Dean Winchester," she said, and if he didn't know better he'd think she was chastising him. "Are you okay?"
He slowly started to cross the room and she met him half way, folding him up in a hug filled with warmth and maternal concern. "Yeah, I'm okay," he lied, holding onto her a moment more than was absolutely necessary.
She stood back a step and looked him over, head to toe. "No you're not boy. Don't lie to me. Now sit down and tell me exactly what happened."
Dean put the coffee and wrapped sandwich down on the table like they weighed a ton and ran a hand over his unshaven cheeks and chin, "That's the thing. I have no idea."
"Okay, well start at the beginning and we'll figure this out." She dragged him to sit down next to her in front of the window, holding tightly to his trembling arm.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and cradling his face in his hands. "We were a few towns over working a simple salt and burn. He'd been getting bad headaches for the last week, no visions or anything, but enough to knock him on his ass for a few hours. Anyway," he shook his head to clear the cobwebs, "We were done with the job and he was exhausted and his head was hurting, so I gave him some painkillers and told him to lay down while I went out for food. So I left to grab burgers while he stayed at the motel to sleep."
"What motel?" Ellen asked, as though it mattered.
"The uh, the Magnolia Inn on highway 260. When I left his was asleep in the bed. He was fine." Dean turned his face to look at Sam, "he was fine."
"What happened after that?" Ellen was pushing him, searching for anything that would help her find the answers Dean couldn't.
"I was gone about twenty minutes to the burger shack up the road. When I got back, he was laid out in the parking lot. He was on his back and his eyes were open but he wasn't looking at me or anything else. I called his name and I talked to him but he wouldn't answer me, shit… I thought he was dead."
"Anybody at the motel know anything?" Ellen pressed.
"No," Dean scoffed, "story of my life, no one saw or heard anything. So I brought him inside and checked him over for any wounds or bumps on his head, but there was nothing. I laid him on the bed hoping it was a matter of time and that maybe he'd snap out of it. I ran the EMF meter in the room and the parking lot, but there was nothing there."
Dean got up and paced over to Sam, running a hand through his long brown hair, "I put him in the car and brought him here when he wet the bed." Dean closed his eyes when he heard Ellen exhale slowly. "He's twenty-four and wet the fucking bed".
"What do the doctors say?"
Dean turned around and faced Ellen, "They can't find anything wrong with him physically. They've done scans and blood work and x-rays. They've poked him and manhandled him and had shrinks talking to him like he's a freaking kid. But there's nothing. He's just not there."
"Then why are they still keeping him here?" She questioned.
"They're not, I am, I don't know what else to do. They said I can take him home, but home is the back seat of a forty year old car and he needs better than that. I just…" he hesitated and stared Ellen in the eye, "I don't know how to take care of him and they do and I can't figure out what happened. He just can't tell me, ya know?"
"Okay," Ellen looked around the room, eyes settling on a notepad on the table. She got up and grabbed it and a pen as well. "Go. Sit in the cafeteria, sit in the parking lot, sit on the roof, anywhere but here. I want you to clear your mind and write down every place the two of you have been in the last month and all the things you hunted. I want the names of victims and survivors, the locations of all the places you stopped, diners you ate at, motels you stayed in. I want to know every detail. If you got friendly with the gas station attendant, I wanna know his name. You understand?"
"Yeah, but I can't leave Sam alone that long." He had only left him long enough to get food and take a leak. What Ellen was asking would take at least two hours.
"He won't be alone. I'll stay with him." She smiled and waited for the young man to give in.
"You'll call me as soon as he wakes up?" Dean pressed.
"The second those eyes open, you'll know," she promised.
"Alright". Dean took the pad and pen from Ellen and tousled Sam's hair a little, careful not to wake him. "I'll be back soon Sam. Ellen's gonna sit here with you, but as soon as you wake up I'll be back."
He did his best to smile for Ellen as he left the room.
She married a hunter, raised a daughter, patched up broken men, delivered babies, rebuilt homes, and saved lives. So in the grand scheme of things, finding a way to help the Winchesters was simple.
As soon as Dean was gone she got on the phone and started calling in every favor she had on the line. She contacted every hunter whose number she had and fed them what little information she had. She called Charles Ballard, whose daughter had recently left home for college, sending her father on a never ending road trip in search of anything evil he could kill. She worked the details out with Charles and immediately got on the phone with Bobby, filling him in on the situation and asking him to do the boys a few favors.
She had just hung up the phone when Sam woke up. She walked over to him and gently placed her hand over his. "Hey there sleepy head," she smiled at him even if he wasn't looking at her.
"No," he said.
Ellen was a little surprised and confused, but kept going anyway. "How you feeling, Sam? Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No. No. No. No." He grew louder each time the word passed his lips. His hands curled into fists around the sheet and he continued his mantra. "No. No. No. No."
"Okay, okay," Ellen raised her hands in surrender and backed away. She grabbed her phone and dialed Dean, Sam still muttering in the background.
"Dean," she gasped when he picked up the phone. "He's awake. And I think you need to get back here."
He said something she didn't quite understand and the line went dead. She turned back to Sam, whose eyes had never strayed from the wall in front of his bed, and calmly talked to him. "It's okay. You don't have to get upset sweetheart, your brother will be back any second."
And as the words left her mouth the door swung open and Dean barreled into the room. He was next to Sam in a second, grabbing at his shaking hand and holding it tight. "Hey man. Calm down, it's okay. I'm right here. You're okay." He stood there telling Sam it would be okay, stroking his hand and bringing him back down. It took fifteen minutes.
"I'm sorry," Ellen said as they both sat back down, "He woke up and before I could call you he lost it and started yelling no."
"Yeah, he does that," Dean told her.
She glared at him incredulously then laughed, "You could have told me that."
"Yeah, I could have," he joked.
Ellen left soon after, Dean's list tucked into her jacket. She hugged him again, imploring him to hold on a little longer and promising him that they would find the answers. And as she walked out Dean admitted to himself that he believed her.
Dean slept that night better than he had since the whole thing started, about four hours, but it was better than nothing. When the morning finally pushed it's way in Dean got up and showered and got things ready. He had a new resolve and was determined to get Sam back on his feet. He watched his brother go through the demeaning task of feeding himself breakfast, then kicked things into gear. He ran a bath in the tub and found the clothes Sam hadn't worn in weeks.
"Alright Sammy. We're gonna take a real bath this morning and get dressed okay?"
Sam didn't look at him, just smiled.
In the bathroom Dean striped his brother of the awful blue hospital gown and eased him into the water. He kept reminding himself that once upon a time he was the one who bathed a little boy with curly brown hair and that this was really no different, jus the proportions had changed. He washed his back and under his arms. He scrubbed his face and behind his ears. He told Sam to close his eyes and poured water over his head, washing the mop of thick brown hair.
When the bath was over he dried and dressed his brother and led him back to the chair by the door. 'He's not sick, no more bed.' He slipped a pair of giant boots on Sam's feet and straightened his jeans over the ankles.
"Ready to go for a walk, big guy?"
Sam smiled, looking at his clothes and shoes in some sort of awe. He stood when Dean stood and allowed himself to be led out of the room. Dean held him by the belt loop and they walked the halls. Up and down the elevator, down to the maternity ward and through the cardiac unit. Dean kept talking to him like he was Sam. He reminded him of all the adventures they'd been on together and watched Sam's eyes light up when he embellished their victorious endings. It was two hours before Sam started to sag, the walking clearly too much for someone who'd spent weeks doing nothing.
They stopped at the cafeteria and Dean bought Sam an orange soda. They sat in the far corner, Dean talking about Bobby and Ellen and all the hunters they knew, when Sam got excited and knocked over his cup.
"It's okay, don't worry about it, we'll get you a new one," Dean soothed as he wiped up the orange colored liquid with a handful of napkins. He got up to get a new soda and was only a foot from the table, keeping an eye on his brother, when he heard the sweetest sound he'd been privy to since the day in Cold Oak that he found Sam alive again.
"Dean." It was nothing spectacular, just one syllable, the name he'd heard a million times. But this time was different. This time it came from Sam and it meant he knew who Dean was.
Dean rushed back to the table and squatted down next to his brother. "Yeah, Dean." He smiled and pointed to Sam's chest, "Sammy."
Sam turned and looked at Dean, right in the eye, then reciprocated. He poked Dean in the chest and said it again. "Dean."
In the back of Dean's mind he was sure this was something you would see on the Lifetime channel, but he wouldn't cheapen the moment with misplaced humor.
"Come on," Dean said standing up, "Let's get you another drink and we'll head back up stairs to your room."
Sam didn't meet his eyes, just stood and followed Dean to the soda fountain, then back to the elevator.
In Sam's room they both ate lunch, Dean talking all the time, convinced he could bring Sam out of it if he could make him remember who he was.
Sam's only response was to smile when he caught Dean's eye and repeat their names, clearly impressed with his own new trick.
And that's how it continued for two days, baths and walks and sodas. Sam never said more than their names, but it was enough to make Dean feel like he had a chance in this fight.
On day three Ellen showed up again. She entered the room quietly with a smile on her face and a pile of papers under her arm.
Dean introduced them again, "It's Ellen Sammy. You remember, she has the Roadhouse where we would get a drink after work?"
Sam didn't look convinced, but smiled anyway.
"Glad to see you Sam. You look better than you did last time I was here." She fawned over him.
"So what did you find out?" Dean asked.
"Well," Ellen sat down and put the papers in her lap, "Bobby and some others are looking into the people you had contact with. He thinks it could be a curse or something but he hasn't found anything yet."
"So we're still at point A," Dean huffed.
"No, not really," she told him. She put the papers in his lap and dropped a key on top.
"What's all this?" He was very clearly confused.
"Key to your house and all the papers we need you to sign to transfer the title." She beamed at him.
"A house?" He looked at her like one of them had lost their mind and he wasn't sure who.
"No, not a house, your house."
Dean shook his head, the cobwebs making things hard to understand. "I'm sorry. I don't follow."
"Charles Ballard isn't using his place anymore, it's just been sitting empty for months now. He owed me a favor and your father his life, so he's given you the house. It's really not much, but it's enough for you two," she explained.
Dean looked at the papers and palmed the key. "I can't accept a house Ellen."
"It's not up for discussion Dean. He owed and when I explained the situation he offered it up himself." Ellen reached into her pocket and produced a pen. "Now sign these papers and we'll get to work on him checking out next."
Dean looked at Ellen, ready to hand back the key and papers, then Sam spoke up. "Dean."
And that was all he needed. He signed the papers and handed the pen back to Ellen, who just smile at him and said, "Good boy."
Getting Sam out of the hospital as easier than Dean would have thought. There were no A.M.A. papers to sign, only insurance forms and pamphlets about taking care of someone in Sam's condition. Dean scribbled an unreadable name on the dotted lines and turned back to Ellen.
"Well, we've got it all ready for you two. An account at the local bank with a small fortune in it. Food in the pantry and beer in the fridge. Bobby brought an extra bed in and put a TV in the living room. You two just follow me there. It should take a couple of hours to get there, but you'll be between Bobby and I where the house is, surrounded by help," she told them.
When Dean and Sam made their way into the parking garage, Dean held Sam by the arm, steering him out of harms way and toward the impala.
Sam stopped a few yards from the car and smiled. "Baby," he said.
Dean spun on his heels to look at him. "What?"
Sam kept smiling but was headed toward the car now, "Baby," he said again.
"Yeah Sammy," he chuckled, "That's our baby."
SO???? What did we all think? Good? Bad? Boring? The computer deserves a salt and burn? Like I said, this thing is all mapped out already and it's going to be long, so now would be the time to stop me if this is total hooey.
Hope you liked. Now go and send me reviews!