Dean sped into the hospital parking lot, tires squealing as he turned in, receiving several, warranted dirty looks. He pulled into the emergency parking and Sam jumped out, scooped up the girl, who was still unconscious, and made his way confidently to the desk.
"Hi, yes. I need help. Now." Sam demanded of the nurse at the front. She glanced at the bloodied, bruised, sleeping girl before asking if she had any immediate injuries. Sam nodded.
"Blood loss, she won't stop." The woman nodded, made a call, and within a few minutes the girl was on a stretcher with an IV and was whisked off into some room, Sam trailing behind. Two nurses swarmed around her, hooking up machines and inserting needles. Sam had hardly noticed Dean come in, and both stood helplessly to the side.
"What happened to her?" a nurse asked them.
"Don't know, found her on the side of the road," Sam lied. "Is she going to be alright?" The nurse shook her head.
"Only the doctor can talk about those things."
"But you know something," Dean said. "I mean you went to school for this, you have experience, you know something so just answer the question. Is she going to live?" he demanded.
The nurse gave him a pitying look, which only served to anger him more. "The doctor will be here soon; he can answer that."
"Listen, Sweetheart-," he started, but Sam shook his head.
"Maybe you should go take a walk, Dean."
Dean looked at him for a minute, frustration mixed with panic in his eyes. "Fine. But call me the minute the doctor gets here." Dean slipped out of the room, in search of some coffee.
Dean got back just as the doctor was coming in. After examining the girl himself, he confronted the two men sitting in front of him. "She has some bruising, a broken ankle, a concussion, and serious blood loss. I can set the ankle, give some pain medication for the bruising, and stop the immediate bleeding." Sam and Dean shared a look of relief. "But she's not out of danger yet. The real issues are the concussion and lack of blood. We will need to do a blood transfusion. She needs blood immediately, problem is we don't have enough for her."
"What?" Dean stood up. "Your a hospital, how can you not have enough blood?"
"You see, sir, her blood type is the most rare, AB-negative. We don't have a large supply because of the limited number of people with this blood type."
"I'm AB-negative. Use mine. Problem solved," Dean said.
"Well, that only fixes one problem. There's still the concussion," The doctor said. "The concussion, paired with the blood loss, caused a coma. Hopefully the blood transfusion will help her wake up, but even then it's possible she won't."
Sam had his head in his hands and Dean was still standing, glaring at the doctor.
"So what can we do right now?" Sam asked, lifting his head to look at the doctor.
"The blood transfusion. So if you, sir," he pointed to Dean "will come with me, we'll get your blood taken, tested, and go through with the transfusion." Dean nodded and followed the doctor out of the room.
Sam looked over at the girl, the first time he had really taken the time to see her. She was painfully thin, her face gaunt and arms limp. He slowly picked up her hand, lightly running his fingers over her bandaged wrists before peering closer for a better look at her face. Her brow was furrowed in a well-known look of frustration, and as he examined her, he saw the familiar shape of her nose. He shook his head and sat back against his chair, sure he was just imagining things.
About five minutes later, Dean came back with a Band-Aid in the crook of his elbow. Sam nodded at him as he sat in the chair on her other side. Both sat in silence, just watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest. When the doctor returned, carrying several tubes of blood and closing the door behind him, they looked up expectantly.
"This is going to work, right?" Dean asked.
"Oh yes. The procedure pretty straight forward. And the paternal bond helps." The doctor went about getting ready for the blood transfusion, ignorant to the brothers' identical look of disbelief.
"What? No. No, no. No, you're wrong." Dean shook his head. "I'm not a dad. I'd know, okay?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but the tests showed it. You are this girl's father. Oh, and her name's Guinevere Noelle Theton. Sixteen years old. Her mother's Ellie Theton," said the doctor, watching for Dean's reaction.
"Theton… Ellie Theton… Oh. Yeah…" he glanced over at Sam, who had been quietly watching all of this go down. "Demon case in Dayton, Tennessee," he whispered to him. "You were gone at college and Dad was off on his own hunting trip."
Sam nodded slowly. "I can't say I'm surprised. She even looks like you." Dean sat down hard in his chair, and rubbed his face while the doctor hooked up yet another tube to Guinevere.
"But Guinevere, though?" Dean protested.
"Did Ellie have a thing for the renaissance?" Sam asked.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know, man. Let's be honest, I didn't take time to get to know her. I mean, it's pretty but not…" He trailed off. "I wouldn't have named her that. "
"That's not really your choice, though is it?"
Dean sighed. "I need to get outta here or I'm gonna go insane. I'm going for a drive."
Sam scooted his chair closer to Guinevere, his niece, once the doctor was gone. That freaked him out a bit. His niece. He knew Dean always messed around too much and knew it could get him in trouble sometime. But a daughter? That was hard for him to wrap his head around, he couldn't imagine Dean having to take that in right now. He shook his head, as if to clear it, before standing up and heading to the cafeteria.
Dean flew down the road, having no idea where he was or where he was going and not caring. The more thoughts that flooded his mind the faster he went, so when he sped past the police officer on the side of the road, he didn't even try and get out of being pulled over, which was a first for him. He knew he should be getting back, but instead going to the hospital he headed to a bar he passed when they first came into town two days before.
At the bar, he tipped back whiskey after whiskey until he felt a soft hand on his arm. The arm belonged to a gorgeous brunette, wearing in a scanty dress, who asked him if he was alright.
"I'm not sure how you could be, I've lost track of how many drinks you've had. So what is it? Was she sleeping with you best friend?" She took his drink from him and sipped it herself.
Dean shook his head and scoffed. "No. If only it were that easy."
"That's your view of easy? What is it then, baby?" She got Dean a glass of water, still nursing his whiskey, gazing at him seductively.
"I have a daughter." Dean looked at the mystery woman. "Can you believe that? A daughter. A beautiful, unconscious, tortured, sixteen year old daughter."
The woman nodded slowly at that before sighing heavily. "I'm gonna go then. You've got your hands full. I should've known, really. Only guys with issues go to a bar on a Thursday afternoon."
"Yeah, that's probably true." Dean nodded at her. He gulped the rest of his water before heading back out to Baby. He didn't get to the hospital until around five in the afternoon to find Sam passed out in a chair, a styrofoam container full of untouched food abandoned on the table next to him. Sam stirred as Dean shut the door behind him.
"Hey." Sam rubbed his face before checking his watch. "I figured you'd head back to the hotel and I'd stick around here."
"Nah, you need your sleep, I can stick around." At Sam's concerned look he scoffed. "What could possibly go wrong? Come on, get going. Get some sleep, Sammy." Sam dumped his food in the trash as Dean took his seat next to Guinevere. Dean waited until Sam had shut the door behind him before pushing the chair closer to the bedside. "Alright. So. You're my daughter." He rubbed his face. "Um, okay, some things about me. My name's Dean, if you didn't know that. Dean Winchester. That was Sam there, my little brother. Your… uncle I guess. He's a good guy, better than I will ever be. I spent my whole life looking after him, protecting Sammy. And he's protected me just as many times. That's what we do, we save each other. And others; the world really. We're hunters, not like that guy who killed Bambi's mom. Like demons, werewolves, vampires. They're all real, which I guess you know. That's how we found you, in a vamp's nest. I guess I should start at the beginning, though, if I'm gonna do this right."
For the next two hours, Dean told his daughter what the past ten years had held. He told her of all the pain, death, and loss, ending with: "I probably shouldn't have told you all that. In fact, I really hope you can't hear all this. If it was my choice, you'd never know about the crap that went bump in the night. You deserve better than that. But it's not my choice, huh? Some vamp got to decide for me. Anyway, I just wanted to… I don't know tell you. I don't even know you but I just wanted you to know what's happening. And I want you to know I didn't expect all this. So if I'm a jerk, which I can be, don't ever think it's because I don't care about you or some crap. I do, even if I'm just some random guy. You're my daughter and I'm gonna keep you safe and protect you with everything I've got. And I always will."