Title; Wires
Author; Ninja's
Fandom; Supernatural
Characters; Dean and mentions of Sam.
Pairing; Dean/OC
OC name; Jenny Fox
Summary; from the usage of the song by Athlete, and a lot of watching of Frankenstein's Wedding… Live. I got this idea; Jenny Fox knows she's dying, and Dean thinks that she'll get through. How wrong he was. (One-shot)
You got wires,
Going in,
You got wires,
Coming out of your skin,
You got tears,
Making tracks,
I got tears,
That are scared of the facts.
Dean watches the fluids fall into her, drop by drop. Her eyes stare out the window as the fourth round of antibiotics flow; she knows that this time around it might not work like it had the first time, or the second time. Jenny feels the fluids fall into her, drop by drop.
She stares outside, out into the ignorance of the outside world. Where no one cares or no one knows about the others afflictions. But she can't see past the window pane. She can't see anything past the water cascading down the window. She can't see past the tears making tracks down her face.
"All done," The nurse says with a false smile. The drip isn't taken away; it's left for the next round that'll come soon. Jenny looks at Dean, his hand clamped tightly around hers; he's scared of the facts that stare him right in the face.
Jenny's going to die.
Dean's phone rings, once, twice, three times. In a row, but Dean ignores it. Nothing, not even the end of the world will tear him away from Jenny. Dean's mind is in tatters, his only thoughts are 'what happens if…' A million of them float around his mind. Each one as relentless as the one before. He shakes his head, as for the fourth time his phone rings.
"It's okay; you can take it if you want…" She smiles and waves him away. Dean knows the difference between her smiles; this one is as fake as the make up that covers her skin to hide the sickly colour of it. "Go," she says, cocking her head at the door. He glances at the caller ID before giving her a quick kiss good bye and answering the phone at the door.
"What…?" His voice sounded rough and irritated… Sam gave him the details of another gruesome death, just a few blocks away, Sam had said. The words and the prospect of a good hunt was all it took for Dean to tell Sam he would meet him there.
Not before he left his cell number with nurses at the front desk.
Running down corridors,
Through automatic doors,
Got to get to you,
Got to see this through,
The first night of your life,
Curled up on your own,
Looking at you now,
You would never know.
Dean only remembers a few words from the phone call; in fact it's only two words. And those are Jenny and coma. Dean didn't have to say anything to Sam, he just said it was a simple salt and burn he could handle it. Dean nodded, leaving all the things that Sam needed to get rid of the ghost. Before climbing into the Impala and driving away, back to the hospital.
When he gets there he can't remember the room she was in. He runs through corridors and through doors that open automatically, but instead he gets lost; it takes a nurse who pity's him before he actually finds his way back to her room. When he looks in, he doesn't like what he sees.
Wires and tubes and all sorts go in and come out of her. It takes everything to stop himself from breaking down… He analyzes what's going on in the room; the soft hiss of the ventilator that pushes air into her damaged lungs, the just audible peep of the BMP machine, the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the way Jenny looks so peaceful, as if she were asleep.
But all the cold, dull machinery scream at him that she's not asleep, but stuck in limbo. Stuck between life and death…
Dean looks down on Jenny, her chestnut brown hair fanning out around her head like a halo; but yet it still manages to frame her face perfectly. Tears spill from his eyes at this point… nothing left to say that hasn't been said… nothing that he isn't scared of. Nothing that he wants to tell her. And everything that he wishes he could stick's on his tongue and won't un-stick.
"I gotta see this through, I gotta see you again," Is all that Dean can manage.
You got wires,
Going in,
You got wires,
Coming out of your skin,
There's dried blood,
On your wrists,
Your dry blood,
On my fingertips.
Weeks go by and Jenny didn't wake up, she was still ill and the Doctors said it was only a matter of time. Dean hardly ever saw Sam; he only came in to see if he was alright and if there was any change in Jenny's condition. There never was… Dean one day said that there never might be.
The wires were changed for fresher ones, new drugs and new – stronger – antibiotics were given to her. Dean watched over Jenny like a hawk, waiting, vigilant by her side. He could tell her things that he would never tell anyone else; he hoped that she never remembered them but… with these thing's it was anyone's guess.
Sometimes Dean would fall asleep half way through a retelling; his embellishments were always the same sort of thing, like a .50 cal here and .45 there, no one ever saw past the fact he could probably write a Stephen King novel without having to think about it. Dean hated falling asleep because it could mean missing something detrimental.
In fact one time it did, if it hadn't been for the frantic peeping of the BPM machine. She was ripping the canellas from her arms, skin ripping. Muttering something about getting out of there. But where could she go? She caught sight of Dean, grinned and tried to get out of bed; Dean grabbed her arms and restrained her. He tried explaining to her that she was ill and that she was in hospital.
"I know, Len, I know." And with that she went back to bed and slipped away from him. For ten minuets she had been so lucid, so full of life, so real. And she slipped back in to that deep sleep that only the doctors could wake her from.
He sat back in the chair he'd vacated only a few minuets before. Len? Dean thought about why he knew that name, it only took a few moments. Len had been the name of her foster carer that had gotten possessed by a demon.
Dean sat and watched the nurses come in and wipe the blood away from her arms and put new canellas in, clean and clear, more drugs, that drop by stinking drop, it fell into her. He looked down at his hands, fingertips stained with her blood, he stood up and walked away to wash his hands.
Running down corridors,
Through automatic doors,
Got to get to you,
Got to see this through,
The first night of your life,
Curled up on your own,
Looking at you now,
You would never know.
Dean had only been ten minuets when alarm bells rang out near the nurses' station. He ran back to her room, doctors and nurses crowded around. All of them talking in medical jargon. Not all of it Dean understood, but some of it he did. It sounded bad.
Bells and chimes rang around the room, voices all melted in to one, but one thing stood out the most, the way Jenny's eyes stared sightlessly at the cold white ceiling. Dean wanted to go in so much but an orderly stopped him.
"Best not go in there, mate," He had said, "It might get messy." And Dean let himself get lead away.
If it hadn't been for the she had been found on prom night, curled up in the dumpster on her own. She wouldn't have met Dean. She might not have this blood disease. She might not be in there… He remembered her how she was – looking at her like that; in Dean's mind's eye, you would have never known what Jenny Fox had been through
Cause I see it in your eyes,
I see it in your eyes,
You'll be alright,
Cause I see it in your eyes,
I see it in your eyes,
You'll be alright,
Alright…
Dean falls asleep thinking about Jenny's eyes. How beautiful they were, how when they were filled with tears, they shone with all the emotions she was feeling. How when she had told Dean about her blood disease, they had shone with fear and sadness.
But he could see it in her eyes that she wouldn't go down without a fight. That's what she was doing; fighting for every single thing she had fought off before. Dean could see her beckoning him towards her in his dreams. Everything was perfect. Just how he had remembered her…
Then the dream turned into a nightmare, her porcelain skin turned paler and lost its lily white colour. Her hair still framed her face, but it was lank and greasy. Her eye's stopped shining with any emotion, and her skin looked drawn and dark circles appeared under her eyes.
"Don't remember me like this," She whispered. Before she reached out to touch his cheek. Her skin was freezing, dead cold. "Please Dean, don't remember me like this." She repeated. Dean didn't understand. She smiled, but the tears said everything. Her hand fell away from his face and she started to fade away. He colours returned to her skin. The last thing he heard before some one was shaking him awake… "Thank you."
Dean sat in the empty room, Sam at the door way. Stranger things have happened. Dean stared at the empty bed, where Jenny should have been, alive and awake. They were going to have a life, get away from hunting, from everything. They could have had a normal apple pie life with two point five kids and a white picket fence.
But maybe something's aren't meant to happen…
END