Not Like This – Chapter 2
Thank you to everyone for all the positive reviews – hope I don't disappoint anyone!
The medics arrived within minutes and by then the fire was almost out. Dean was too wrapped up in Sammy to notice the strange looks he was getting and stayed kneeling by his brother's side. Sam was still vomiting, empty dry heaves and, to Dean's concerned hands, his skin felt cold and clammy. Sam's face was white and his breathing laboured. He seemed fevered, almost out of it, his eyes fixed, blearily, on Dean's anxious face.
"Can you tell me his name" a young female medic tapped Dean on the shoulder as she leant over Sam "And his symptoms"
"His name is Sam – Sam Cleaver – he's my brother" Dean added, even though he hadn't been asked "He seemed hot, his head hurt and he's been vomiting. I don't know what else – he" Dean felt a stab of guilt "He didn't tell me anything – he's good at hiding things" he bit his lip hard "Especially from me"
"Alright Sir – we are going to get him stretchered up and take him to the hospital – it's only about 10 minutes away – have you a car sir? Can you follow us?"
"Please" Dean gripped her arm "Please – let me come with you – he's my brother, he's all I have – I can't leave him"
"There isn't much room Sir" the girl looked at him, sympathy in her eyes, "But if you promise not to get in our way – then we can fit you inside" she turned her attention back to Sam, who had stopped vomiting. His brother's eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, his mouth moving but no words could be heard "We have to go now sir" she said kindly "Everything will be fine"
Dean forced a smile, tight and unbelieving, somehow he doubted it.
Dean sat in the waiting room, Sam's jacket clutched in nerveless fingers, rubbing the material between the tips, smelling the familiar scent of after shave, sweat and something that was just Sam. Dean swallowed, determined not to cry; he had to be strong, had to keep his game face on, even though there was no one here to care or to impress. He watched the door, willing it to open, wanting to know just what was wrong with his baby brother.
The doctor had mentioned a lumber puncture and had muttered complicated medical terms such as analysis of cerebrospinal fluid. Dean didn't know what this meant; he didn't understand; all he knew was that his brother was seriously ill and he couldn't help him, couldn't save him.
Dean stared mindlessly at the yellow walls. He was dog tired, his limbs aching. He felt strange, a mixture of anger, concern and grief. Why didn't Sam tell him just how sick he felt why hadn't Sam come to him and asked for help, they had just started to be honest with each other again, why the fuck couldn't Sam trust him?
"Mr Cleaver?" Dean's head snapped up. The doctor looked weary and her face was pale
"Yeah – my brother?" Dean rose to his feet "Sam – how is he?"
"Mr Cleaver – your brother has Bacterial meningitis – the lumber puncture confirms it, although when I saw the rash on his body I was pretty sure" she looked at Dean, trying to gage his reaction "We've managed to get some antibiotics into him and we are going to continue this treatment – Sam isn't conscious and he is very, very sick. Hopefully we have caught this in time but we can't be sure. The next twenty four hours will be crucial – but Mr Cleaver – this is a very serious illness, it can cause septicaemia, brain damage and in severe untreated cases can lead to death" she put a steadying arm on Dean's shoulder "I'm sorry Mr Cleaver"
"Sam – he's – he's going to be ok right?" Dean tried to get his head around the doctor's words, tried to understand what was being said. This was Sam – his Sammy – his little brother who had survived two fires, who was immune to some fucking demon virus and who was now dying of a bacterial infection. He swallowed back an hysterical laugh and stared at the doctor, shaking his head "Please – he is going to be alright?"
"Mr Cleaver – Sam is very sick – we have him in ICU and he is being constantly monitored – I wish I could tell you more – but we are doing all that we can"
"Can I see him?" Dean gripped her arm "Please – let me see him"
"Of course – but Mr Cleaver – this is a very infectious disease – we are going to have to give you a dose of protective antibiotics through an injection – we need to protect you"
Dean shook his head; he didn't need protecting, he just wanted to go to Sam. He remembered his brother sitting in the lab, remembered waiting to kill Sam if he turned into a monster. He was ready then to kill Sam and himself. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked hard. Part of him wanted to refuse the injection, part of him wanted to be left alone; if Sam went, Dean wanted nothing more than to go with him. He didn't want to be protected, it was his job to protect Sam and part of that job meant that he would follow Sam anywhere, he didn't want Sam to be alone, he'd promised to look out for Sam and he didn't want to break that promise.
ICU was dim, lights muted. Dean could hear the soft hum and thud of the monitors, feel the cloying heat, smell the bitter scent of disinfectant and illness. He moved over to Sam's bed and stared down at his baby brother, his heart clenching.
Sam lay as still as death, the rise and fall of his chest his only movement. His eyes were shut, his mouth closed. His casted arm lay on the coverlet and his too long hair clung to his white face. There were tubes in his nose to assist breathing, IV's in his hand. Dean perched on the seat near Sam's head and stroked his brother's hair "Oh god Sammy" his voice broke "Please – not like this, please not like this"
Sam felt as if he were floating; his body was light and weightless and he was finally without pain. All around him was white, white ceilings, white floors, and white walls. It was peaceful, it was calm and he liked it. There was nothing to worry about here, nothing to bother him. He could stay here forever, rest here; the demon couldn't get him, he couldn't harm anyone, he was safe and secure. Sam smiled to himself, yeah; maybe he'd just stay here. He drifted on, happy, at peace, unconcerned as a gentle silence ruled and he slept. TBC