Woah! That's not quite the interaction I was hoping for with you, sweetheart. Quite some wakeup call you got goin' on there.
Damn it – didn't even get her name. Maybe Sammy caught it. Come to that, where is Sammy? And when did it get dark out there? I only closed my eyes for a minute. Was that window there earlier? Whatever these drugs are – they're good. Feeling a little lightheaded over here. Could really do with Sam coming back from wherever he is. Ha ha – bet he hooked up with that cute little thing from earlier. About time too Sammy. God, what I wouldn't give to be in your shoes right now.
Aw, Sam. What're you doing back here? You should be out getting laid, not looking at me like that.
"Dean. God, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd wake up before I got back. I shouldn't have left you. I'm so sorry." Here he is, coffee in hand. At least I think it's coffee. Oh, now it's on the table and he's reaching out to me. If I could just get this damned arm up off the bed I might stand a chance of deflecting him. Nope, too slow Dean. Gotta work on that speed. Probably ought to answer him too.
"I'm good Sam, it's okay." Time to sit up again. Going to do it slowly, like before. Sam's already in position. The way that boy reads my mind – downright creepy at times. A little huffing and puffing and I'm up. Room doesn't seem to be moving too much. My head must be getting better. Sam's face is right in front of mine.
"Dude, personal space." He's got the grace to look apologetic at least and he's backing away. Don't go too far Sammy, I've still got too many questions here. Okay, he's getting comfy. That's good. That means he's staying. No way I'm going to be needy here but if he's got nowhere else to be I don't mind him hanging out here.
"Do you remember what happened, Dean?" Don't be silly, Sam, I can't even remember what day it is. My face must be more expressive than I give myself credit for. Sam sighs and leans forward, elbows on knees, chin resting on his hands, hair – God, that hair needs sorting out.
"Millie?" He looks kinda hopeful and disappointed all in one. How does he do that? And what the hell does 'Millie' mean? Is that supposed to bring it all back to me? I've never heard of Millie, or at least, I don' think I have.
"Is she hot?" I know I'm smirking, I can feel the muscles in my face moving and Sam's looking exasperated now. It's awesome how I can do that to him, even on my worst day. That boy needs to lighten up – I keep telling him that.
"Dean." That was more of a whine than anything. He sounds about seven. "You don't remember Millie? She called us two weeks ago. We've been here for ten days already. You don't remember any of that?"
Well Hell, no, Sammy. If I remembered any of it do you think I'd be looking at you like this?
"I guess you're just going to have to clue me in a little here, Sam." And he's going to have to make it quick. Those painkillers are wearing off and my head is starting to make it's presence felt again. All of a sudden there seem to be two of him and, woah, right in my face again.
"Dude, you okay?" No, not okay Sam, not okay at all. He's reaching for the call button and I really, really don't want him to do that but the pain in my head is getting worse. I'd like to know what I did to it to make it so bad but I guess that's going to have to wait because here's that nurse that's got her eye on my little brother. Have to say, if he's gonna go for it, then she's the one.
She takes one look at me and I can see the sympathy in her eyes. It seems that even she knows more about what happened than I do. I'm starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and I don't think it's got anything to do with the concussion anymore. Millie is coming back to me and I don't want anything clouding my mind. I need my head in the game now. There are snippets at the edges of my memory that I can't quite grasp.
She checks my vitals, gently manoeuvring Sam to one side so she can get to the IV in my hand. Her hand is wrapped round my good wrist and she's counting in her head. She smiles at me in the way that nurses always smile but just this side of patronising. I catch a glimpse of her nametag – Kirsty. That's good to know.
"How's the pain, Dean?" she asks, the epitome of efficiency. "Scale of one to ten."
Are we talking everyman scale, or Winchester scale? Cos on the Winchester scale it's about a 'fine'. On the everyman scale I'm pushing a ten, no problem. I go for the middleman.
"It's been better, I guess." Uh oh – I'm thinking that by the look on Sam's face, that was the wrong answer. Before I know it he's right beside me again, looking at that cute nurse. I wish I could see his eyes cos I'm pretty sure that there's something going on between them. She smiles reassuringly.
"That's to be expected. After a fall like that, you're bound to have a concussion. It's not the worst I've ever seen but it's not far off." She turns to Sam. "I've upped his dosage so the pain should be manageable. Keep an eye on his speech and don't wear him out."
Hello? Right here, remember? No need to talk about me as if I'm a child. But at least I've got some idea of the cover story Sam's spun. I had a fall apparently. I wonder how much of that is based in truth.
Kirsty's gone. She must have those magic slippers that just transport people cos I sure as hell didn't notice her leave. Maybe that upped dosage has something to do with it.
Sam's looking at me, again. Man, I should get him a picture. Lasts longer and I wouldn't have to concentrate for so long. Hey, weren't we having a conversation? About Millie? Crap, Millie. It's coming back to me in bits and pieces. And I don't like what I can remember.