Tony burst through the doors to the hospital lobby and raced up the stairs to the third floor. He all but threw the door to Sam's hospital room open.
Tony's exuberant entrance doing nothing to capture his attention, Sam stared at the wall opposite his hospital bed with unfocused eyes.
"Sam!" He stepped up to the bedside and grabbed the larger man by his broad shoulders, shaking him a bit. "Not again, man," Tony whispered, arms dropping to his sides. Dropping unceremoniously into the hard- backed chair sitting nearby, Tony ran a hand through his hair and inwardly cursed the dizzying sense of deja vu brought on by the sight of Sam's pale face and blank stare. "They said you were getting better," he grumbled to no one in particular.
Tony had been so surprised last week when he cautiously opened the door of his apartment to reveal a bedraggled looking Sam standing alone in the threshold. "Sam," he said, brows drawn in confusion. "Where's Dean?"
Sam squeezed his eyes shut and visibly composed himself before answering. "I don't know, Tony." He shook his head. "I have no freaking clue," he continued, voice cracking and fists clenching.
"Okay, it sounds like we're gonna need the hard stuff," Tony said, mind spinning with questions.
"You got that right." A wry grin appeared on Sam's face, replaced by a grim expression a second later.
"But first," Tony said, pulling a flask out of a hidden pocket in his suit jacket. He took a swing and passed it to Sam. "Best holy water on the east coast," Tony assured him.
Sam rolled his eyes and took a drink. "Satisfied?"
"Not quite. You know the drill," he answered, bending down to retrieve the small silver knife from his right shoe. After both had made superficial cuts on their left forearms, Tony stepped back to let Sam pass and went in search of wash cloths, gauze, and tape to clean up with. When he returned from the bathroom, Sam was looking through his extensive movie collection.
Sam glanced at Tony and gestured to the shelves of DVDS. "Where do you find the time?"
Tony shrugged and handed him the supplies. "You know how it is. You don't exactly get the best sleep when you know that nightmares are real. Add the crazy people I encounter on a regular basis to the mix, and it's a miracle I sleep at all."
Sam nodded and a brief silence ensued as the two men dressed their wounds.
"You up for that drink now?" Tony asked, securing the small gauze pad with tape.
Sam nodded. "Don't go easy on me, now," he called as Tony searched his kitchen cabinets. He walked past the sitting area, perching himself on a stool in front of the kitchen island.
Tony finally located some whiskey on the top shelf of a high cabinet and poured two tumblers full of the stuff. He took one for himself and passed the other across the counter to Sam. They both took rather large gulps of their drink.
Tony grimaced at the burn in his throat. "Strong enough for ya?"
Sam grunted noncommittally.
Tony took a breath and asked the question they'd both been dreading since Sam showed up at his door: "What happened? I know you guys headed off to gank this Dick guy, but…"
Sam took a deep breath and started in on the whole mess. A whole lot of minutes and a couple drinks later, Tony was caught up on the situation. Sam's voice shook by the end.
"So, I have no idea where to even start looking for Dean or Cas, and you're…" He paused, eyes widening, "the only one left standing," Sam finished, turning pale at the realization.
"No that's not true, Sammy—"
"Don't lie to me, Tony." He drained the remainder of his glass and set it on the counter with a trembling hand. "Mom, Dad, Jo and Ellen, Ash, the Campbells, Bobby, Cas…" His voice gradually rose as he recounted the list of the dead, stopping abruptly when he could think of no one but his brother. Sam took a deep shuddering breath. "They're gone, Tony," He whispered, staring at the empty glass in front him.
"Not him, Sam. He won't be gone forever," Tony said decidedly, draining his own drink.
But Sam wasn't listening. He was growing paler by the second and mumbling something Tony couldn't hear.
"Sam!" Tony yelled, stepping up to his side. "Sam, what's wrong?" He asked desperately, holding the man by his shoulders.
"Dean's gone," Sam whispered before collapsing into unconsciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, Sam didn't say a word.
Dr. McBride entered Sam's room at a brisk pace, startling Tony out of his reverie. "Didn't expect you here so soon," he said, unclipping Sam's chart from the end of the bed and flipping through the first few pages.
"Why wouldn't I be here?" Tony asked
"Well, I was under the impression that you had a job…"
"I do. It's just, this is Sam," he said, gesturing toward the bed.
"You are aware that Sam's doing fine, right?"
"I don't know what you're seeing here, doc, but this doesn't seem 'fine' to me. And the nurse said something changed."
Dr. McBride replaced the chart at the end of the bed, and took out a small flashlight, moving up to check Sam's pupils. "Yeah, well something did change. He slipped back a little, but it's not unexpected." He held Sam's eyes open as he checked the reactions. "Didn't the nurse tell you that?"
Tony glanced down at the tile floor and huffed before he answered. "Well, she might have if I hadn't hung up and rushed over here before she could explain."
"Yeah, that might've helped," he said, pocketing the flashlight. "Well let me assure you that Sam's doing fine. He could probably even go home soon, as long as he's under supervision of course. He'll probably slip in and out of this blank state for some time before he's ready to come back to the land of the aware."
"How long do you think it'll be?" Tony asked. "You know, before he comes back?"
"Hard to tell. Sam came in here severely dehydrated and exhausted. He has recovered from those things as far as I can tell, but he's retreated into his mind. He's not going to come back until he feels safe again. Until he decides to come back."
Tony doubted if Sam had felt safe in a long time. The man "made a living" putting himself in harm's way. "So not for a while, then?"
Dr. McBride picked up the chart again and made a notation on it. "That depends on the circumstances surrounding the incident. Since you've refused to give any sort of definitive commentary on the subject, I can't even begin to guess at a prognosis."
"That's not my story to tell, doctor." And you wouldn't believe me if I did tell you, he added silently.
Dr. McBride replaced the chart. "Well he's certainly not talking." He gestured to Sam, who still stared blankly at the white wall in front of him. Dr. McBride's pager beeped and his eyes widened when he checked it. "Gotta go," he said, exiting the room at an almost-run.
Sam's heart monitor beeped steadily for a few moments before Tony decided his next move. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
(SPN/NCIS)
Gibbs walked into Director Vance's office, ignoring the half-hearted protests of his assistant. "Why is the FBI trying to take over my case?" he asked, sounding more demanding than questioning.
Vance suppressed a sigh, opting instead to take a breath before answering. "The killer's a serial, Gibbs. The M.O. matches a case that the FBI's been working on for months. It was all I could do to get them to let you stay on."
Gibbs opened his mouth to respond, but the tinny tune of the Ghostbusters' theme blared from somewhere behind Vance's desk. The odd ring tone coupled with the worried expression on the Director's face caused Gibbs to stay quiet.
Vance pulled his cell phone out of a pocket inside his gray suit jacket. He flipped it open. "Director Vance."
"Someone there, Vance?" Tony asked from his end of the line.
"You could say that, yes," he answered, almost smirking at Gibbs' curious expression. "In fact, I was just about to ask Gibbs to leave," he said pointedly, raising his eyebrows at the man. Gibbs walked slowly toward the exit, still listening to Vance's side of the conversation.
"Gibbs is there? Is he mad at me for leaving the crime scene?"
"Oh, he's mad about something," Vance said, purely for Gibbs' benefit. "But not at you, I don't think."
Gibbs had reached the door and paused briefly at Vance's statement, turning back and tilting his head slightly in confusion. Vance pointed at the door, and Gibbs reluctantly exited the office.
"If he's not mad at me, who is he mad at?" Tony asked.
"The FBI mostly. The victim at the park could've been done in by a serial killer they've been trying to catch for a while. They're taking over the case."
"That doesn't bode well for anyone involved," Tony said, flinching a little in anticipation of Gibbs' inevitable bad mood.
"That's an understatement," Vance said, adjusting his tie. "Now, what is it you really called me for? Is Sam okay?"
"Sam… well, he's as good as can be expected." Tony glanced at the now- sleeping man in the hospital bed next to him and sighed. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Okay," Vance said, unsure where this was going.
"Sammy's gonna be stickin' around for a while, so I'm thinking we're gonna need to up our game."
"Up our game?"
"Yeah, too many people are getting curious already. We need a back story for our boys. It won't be long before Gibbs starts looking for answers. McGee and Ziva too. Fake names aren't enough for this."
Vance fiddled with his tie some more. "I agree that we are going to need something more here, but why the both of them?"
"Because it'll make the story more believable. I've been thinking about this for quite a while, but to pull it off we'll need some pretty convincing files. That's where you come in…" Tony launched into the cover story he'd concocted, barely stopping for breath while he talked. Vance helped iron out some kinks and got to work entering the fake information into the database. All that was left was to cross their fingers and hope that it threw Team Gibbs off the scent long enough for Sam to recover.
A/N: In case you care, I am sorry for the delay. Life happens. Anyway, Vance's involvement wasn't planned. I didn't even know I was going to continue this, but my muse wouldn't let go of it, and Vance just sort of popped in there. I hope you liked it, even though it's mostly a setup chapter. We'll get some action in the next chapter, I promise. Thank you for the encouraging reviews and follows and everything.