Warnings: PG for language and scenes of violence
Disclaimor: I don't own 'em *pity* but if I did, I'd love the stuffing out of Sammy and Dean
Beta: The fabulous Raven!
Summary: This is the long-awaited follow-up to Accident, and, obviously, follows the aftermath of the car crash. In the heat of the moment, the Winchester's find their strength in each other, but what happens after the adrenaline high wears off? What's left behind?
Author's Notes: The original was a prompted fic in which the prompter wanted something 'non-supernatural' and 'hurt!Sammy.' I believe I have continued on in the same spirit. *wink* This will be a bit longer though, at least 3-4 chapters. And best of all, it's all written already! So I just have to finish with editing and having my awesome beta look it over!
Chapter 1 - Confusion
"… fifteen-year-old male, traffic accident, side … shattered *leg bone*, disloca …"
Ambulance.
Sam tried to understand, struggled to focus on what was going on around him, but his eyes refused to open.
Accident?
Dad!
He tried to move his hand, grasp one of the working hands of the EMT, but his body wasn't obeying any commands to move either. They must have somehow sensed he was conscious, because he next felt a warm weight against the arm that wasn't … there? His other arm was … oh, there it was – his mind helpfully connected him with the dull, throbbing agony that was his other arm.
"Hey kiddo. It's goin' to be just fine. Don't worry about anything, buddy." Easy for him to say. Sam opened his mouth, intending to ask about his dad, but found his voice only a bare whisper locked behind lips that barely opened. Something happened outside his line of sight and the ambulance shook for a moment, followed by the sudden presence of someone at his side.
Damn, but he wished he could move. His body wouldn't do what he wanted it to, and his head was hurting so bad … he closed his eyes, whining unconsciously as the pain throughout his body threatened to pull him under.
"Dude, it'll be okay. Sammy?" Dean? Of course Dean was here … he struggled to open his eyes for his brother, but found it harder to accomplish than he remembered. "Sammy, I swear it, bro, Dad's goin' to meet us at the hospital, dude. I just gotta drive the Impala and I'll be right there. Hell, I'll probably beat you. Yeah, hey, race you, yeah?"
Was Dean in the accident? Did he get over the head too? He mumbled something in answer, already sliding under, thoughts still swirling in his head as he fought the darkness.
Was Dad hurt? Shit, his head was gonna' explode ... He tumbled into darkness as the machines around him screeched in warning.
Sam roused to a bright light that ratcheted up the pounding in his head. He was only vaguely aware as his eyelids were painfully stretched open and the bright light shined directly into his non-existent vision. He might have moaned; he wanted to scream.
His eyelids were finally released and he sighed at the blessed relief as his head pounded marginally less with the action. He felt like he was floating on a sea of pain, though, as he became more aware.
" … them that the OR needs reserved for the orthopedist, and where the hell is my O-neg?"
"He's partially responsive, doctor."
Sam groaned weakly, stomach rolling as he bordered on full consciousness. He tasted bitter bile and swallowed convulsively, delaying his body's reaction to the action occurring around him.
"Blood pressure's spiking!"
"Too high! It's too high! Someone get me 10 cc's of Ativan, NOW, people!"
"…"
What happened?
"This one was wearing his seatbelt. It broke clean through, can you imagine? Poor kid."
"At least the dad was mostly fine …"
"Yeah, but I heard the idiot that rammed into them? Crossed the median and …" Something pinched on Sammy's arm and he flinched, surprised he could feel something small when he felt like he was broken all to pieces outside. "It's okay baby, just an IV, yeah, just relax now. And, Sue, can you believe they only had a few scratches. Can you believe that?"
"Blood pressure's still not stable, O2 is falling. Get me a mask over here …"
"Nasal, or …?"
"No, mask … push 2 liters and …"
"…"
What happened?
Dad?
The sheer amount of motion around him was dizzying, compounded by the knife someone was stabbing straight through his fuckin' head …
"10 more cc's of Ativan, pressure's still not stable."
"He's goin' to need more O2, go up to 3 liters."
Oh, man. Where …? He couldn't open his eyes, though not for lack of trying. The light was too much, now, even against closed lids. The light left him gasping for breath, remembered snapshots slamming into him
Blinding headlights.
Scraping, screeching, and scratching along the side of the truck … all he could hear.
Weightless, stomach rising and …
Trees?
Branches snapping, impact lashing him front, back, until, with a final blur …
"… me where the hell my son is!"
Dad!
His eyes flew open, though his body was still unwilling to move in the slightest. He whined slightly, swallowing and licking his lips in an attempt to speak, call out to his Dad.
Was his Dad okay? They were in a …
An accident.
They were in an accident! Was his Dad hurt?
Dad?
He whimpered against his will, struggling to move his head toward the yelling, angry, but oh-so-welcome voice of his dad echoing down the hallway. He was already overwhelmed by bright lights and constant motion, and his body succumbed to the strain, stomach churning as he gagged. Oh, shit, I'm gonna'…
Faceless hands turned him as he vomited, the mucous-y fluid whisked away as the fast movement and resulting agony made him gag again. Oh, man.
The voices around him buzzed annoyingly in the background, the pain an ever-increasing vortex, sucking him in until he crested on the verge of that black void yet again. He welcomed it, falling into darkness that beckoned.
He'd been right behind the ambulance when it arrived at the hospital, bearing his brother into the ER and out of his line of sight. Dean was shaking slightly, the extra adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
"Shit!" He looked over at his Dad, who stared, dazed out the door of the Impala, his face was a wreck, with blood smeared in some spots and still dripping lazily from a cut along his hairline. "Dad?"
He was pretty sure his Dad was mostly okay, but the way he was acting right now he was a little unsure of his first impression.
"Dad?"
John startled, looking around at Dean as though he were seeing him for the first time.
"We here already?"
"Yeah, got here just behind the ambulance. You okay?"
"Yeah, just a little banged up. I'm fine." John had insisted that he was fine; he pushed one EMT away from him hard enough for the man to stumble back, but, hell, Dean got it. He did. Sammy was hurt. He was hurt bad.
He swallowed.
Damn.
"Weapons?"
"I got 'em out of the truck just before the cops showed up, dude. Let's get in there." He glanced at his Dad out of the corner of his eye; he wouldn't dare to suggest his father should actually get checked out while they were in the hospital anyway, but his dad looked like shit. Maybe one of the nurses would go pit bull on him.
"Shit. Sammy." His Dad's voice was wrecked, and if Dean didn't know any better he would swear his father's eyes were bright with tears.
"Dad, come on!" Enough of the dazed and injured civilian routine, time to get in and see to Sammy. He was satisfied when John nodded halfheartedly, wrenching his door open in time with Dean. They were Winchesters, time to act it.
He met his dad on the other side of gleaming metal and caught him before he stumbled, forcing a shoulder under his Dad's arm and damn, but his Dad was a huge ass.
Between the car and the entrance to the ER, John straightened, his steps more purposeful as they both strode into the bright building and up to the sweet thing sitting behind the front counter eying them like she wasn't sure if she should be calling for help or security. Dean smiled slow and wide and she relaxed slightly, looking at him expectantly.
"My little brother, he was just brought in. Sam Conners? Traffic accident on the old bridge?" Her eyes grew wide and shit, but that was never a good thing.
His dad didn't bother with little lady, moving purposely around the Triage station and striding toward the double doors that marked the actual ER. Other people in the waiting room watched with half-interest, trying to look as if they weren't.
Dean shrugged and followed after him. If Dad didn't have to play the rules why should he have to? An elderly man in a disheveled, loose uniform stood in front of the doors, knees knocking together as he tried to stop them. Like that was going to happen.
"Sir! Hey! You guys can't go back there!" the old fart didn't have much of a choice, as they split and just walked around him, banging the doors open. Dean smiled as his Dad finally let his temper loose.
"I just want to fuckin' know where the hell my son is!"