WINCHESTER BOND
DISCLAIMER
Instead of Dean falling into a coma, Sam does. Belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. I realize this may read like another fic on the site, but I actually got part of the plot from the Jake 2.0 episode "Dead Man Talking" and I use some lines from "In My Time Of Dying".
CHAPTER ONE: WINCHESTER SILENCED
The first thing John Winchester was aware of when he woke up was the excruciating pain.
"Dean? Sammy?" he asked. Just then, he heard footsteps approaching the car. With a groan, he unbuckled himself and leaned over his son to clutch the Colt in his hands.
"Stop right there," he told the demon.
"You won't use that on me. Not when you're saving it for someone else," thing responded.
"Just try me," John dared, cocking the gun. Yeah, he'd hate to use the very last bullet on some lower level demon, but when it came to his boys, he'd take the risk. Sensing that it was in danger, the demon poured out of the trucker's mouth.
"Oh, my gosh. Did I do this?" he asked in horror as John fell back on the seat. As the trucker dialed 9-1-1, the man checked on his sons.
"Dean, you okay?" John asked, shaking his shoulder. His oldest moaned as he was awakened. "You okay, Dude?" he checked.
"Yes, Sir," came the automatic response. "Man, what hit us?" John ignored the question and turned to his youngest.
"Sammy?" he questioned. To his horror, there was no answer.
"Sammy?" Dean asked. Again, only silence.
"SAMMY!" father and son yelled. Seconds later, a helicopter airlifted them all to the nearest hospital.
"I'm fine! I just want to know about my brother!" Dean exclaimed a few minutes later.
"Son, you need surgery. It looks like someone used you as a scratching post," the doctor said.
"I'm not your son! Now let me see my brother!" Dean snapped, trying to rise.
"Dean, let them work on you, and I'll go check on Sammy," John ordered.
"Yes, Sir," Dean sighed, flouncing back.
"Sir, you can't go-" the doctor began to object.
"You wanna work on my son or not?" John interrupted. "Trust me, this is the only way he'll agree to it," he continued.
"Will you at least take a wheelchair?" the doctor requested.
"Fair enough," John agreed. He waited until they had procured the transportation, and then gave them his credit card, allowing himself to be wheeled to his other son's room.
"How is he?" John asked.
"Well, all of his vitals are working normally, but there was some cerebral hematoma from when he hit his head," the doctor answered.
"So you're saying he's got a brain clot?" John asked. The doctor looked at him.
"Marine," was the explanation. The doctor nodded.
"Presently, it's just a matter of giving him time. Hopefully, he'll wake up soon," the doctor said. John nodded silently. "I'll leave you two alone," the doctor said. He walked away, leaving the two by themselves.
"Hey, Sammy. So, you got a clot, huh?" John asked. "Thought you had a harder head than that." He chuckled uncomfortably. "Sorry Kiddo. Bad joke." He blew out a worried breath. "Come on, Kiddo. Wake up. Please? Dean's worried sick…and so am I." The following silence was deafening. "You gotta wake up, Sammy…please." He blew out a breath and dropped his head into his hands.