The Devil Inside
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"So, how violent, is violent?" He asked.
The Charge Nurse looked him up and down before replying.
"Nothing you need to worry about, I'm sure. But, I still want Virgil and Todd to come with you. Brother or not, I don't want your death on my work sheet tonight. I have an allergy to paperwork, you understand." The nurse flashed a dead eyed smile at him. Confident in his authority.
The Brother loosened his shoulders and breathed out. His attempt to calm himself. He followed the nurses down the corridor. He watched them open the hatch and both peered into the room before glancing at each other and unlocking the door.
Inside was grey. A grey floor, leading onto grey walls with grey padding up to head height. In one corner was a grey blanketed bed, and in the other corner sat the patient, on a plastic chair. The only colour in the room appeared to be the dried blood spots on the floor that he walked through to enter the room.
With a sigh, Virgil turned towards the brother.
"Someone here to see you, Sam." He gestured for the brother to approach. "Talk to him if you want...he doesn't speak."
The Brother only half heard him. His gaze was focussed on the patient. The shape of his head. The gentle slope of his shoulders. Inside, a mixture of heartfelt joy and sad concern.
"How did you know his name?" The Brother asked.
"It was the only thing he said. Some people are so distressed, all they know is their names." Virgil answered.
He softly walked forward and stood by the bed. At this angle, he could see his face. A burst lip. His knuckles scabbed over. Remnants of the violence the Charge Nurse had warned him about. The Brother licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.
Ten months and three days. That's how long he had searched for him. Ten months and one day ago, he'd woken up in a hospital ward aware that his brother wasn't with him. That something was wrong. Very wrong. And now that he'd found him – things were still wrong. This wasn't the brother he remembered. This wasn't the brother he'd lived and worked with. Laughed and cried with. No sarcastic wit, no brightening smile. Just dead eyes gazing into the wall in front of him.
He searched for the end of the bed with one hand as he sat down, his gaze never leaving his brother's face.
"Hey..." his voice was barely a whisper.
No reaction. No movement. No recognition. The silence was deafening, his audience with high expectations. He tried again.
"You...you don't look like a Sam, " a feint smile crossing his mouth. "See...I've always known you as Dean." He thought he'd never say that name to his brother again.
No reaction. Not even a flickering eye movement.
Virgil and Todd exchanged a glance.
"Is this your brother, Mr Winchester?" Virgil asked.