CHAPTER FOUR
Sam comes face to face with the driver. Sam & Bobby watch over Dean.
"YOU SONOFABITCH!" yelled a furious Sam, launching for the guy and grabbing him by the throat, squeezing tightly.
The cuffed driver was helpless as he was slammed against the drinks machine violently, leaving a huge dent.
"YOU NEARLY KILL MY LITTLE BROTHER AND YOU'RE LAUGHING?"
"I-I didn't mean-" He didn't get any further when Sam's fist slammed into his face, the force breaking his cheekbone instantly.
Sam's lips twitched in a satisfied smile when he felt the bone crunch against his fist. He grabbed him by the throat again, forcing the driver to look him in the eye. "You better remember my face, because I swear to god, it'll be the last thing you ever see before you wake up in hell," he threatened in a low voice, before he drew his fist back again and hit him in his mouth, sending the drunk driver reeling.
The two officers and security guard attempted to pull him away, but Sam was beyond furious and fought against the three men with everything he had.
The driver wiped the blood from his mouth, and smirked at Sam.
Sam growled, and launched for him again. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he shouted, fists slamming repeatedly into the drivers face, not caring when the guy lost consciousness and slumped against the wall, face swollen and bleeding.
"SIR!" yelled one of the officers, grabbing Sam around the waist, and pulling him away. "CALM DOWN!"
"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" screamed Sam, pulling away again, and slamming the driver into the wall where his head collided against the wall, leaving a trail of blood as he slid down to the floor. He didn't notice another man joining them, trying to pull the furious Winchester away.
"SAM!"
A couple of nurses and others from the waiting room who were all watching the sight in-front of them in fear, sighed in relief when Sam was finally restrained by four men.
"LET GO OF ME!" yelled Sam, fighting against the hands holding him. "I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" His struggles intensified, and he kicked his legs out, his right boot connected with the guy's mouth and knocked his two front teeth out. "GET OFF ME!"
"Sam calm down," said Bobby in a quiet voice. "If ya don't, yer going to get kicked out."
"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!"
"Sir, if you don't get a hold of your temper, we'll escort you from the building."
The drunk driver moaned, which somehow pissed Sam off even more. As the men tried to keep a hold of a furious Sam, Bobby tried to get through to him the only way he knew how- Dean. "Sam, listen to me, I know how ya feel, but if ya get thrown out they'll stop ya from seeing Dean. And that kid needs his big brother now more than ever. So get hold of yerself right now. Dean needs ya."
Sam was breathing heavily, trying to get control of himself. He looked murderously at the unconscious driver, and spoke to him as if he could still hear him.
"Fine. But if I lose my little brother, or if anything happens to him... I'm going to hunt you down and kill you. And compared to what I do to you, hell will seem like a trip to Disneyland," he said, shrugging away from the men holding him. "Let me go. Dean needs me." With another hateful glare at the bloodied heap on the floor, he turned and walked back to Dean's room. "He's lucky I wasn't carrying my gun."
"Sorry about that," Bobby said to the officers and security guard. "But that guy almost killed his little brother."
"We understand that sir, but any more outbursts like that, and we'll have to arrest him. This is a hospital."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Bobby assured them, looking at the driver with pure hate when the two nurses went to check on him.
A young mum and her little girl walked up to Bobby. "Do you know that man? He should be locked up, acting like that in-front of children."
"He deserved everything he got," Bobby told her, gesturing behind him. "That asshole got into a car while drunk, and seriously hurt his three year old brother. The little boy still hasn't woke up yet. So excuse him for not inviting him for coffee, and doing a damned happy dance."
"Oh my god," she gasped, hand going to her mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry. I hope he's alright."
"Me too. I've got to get back," Bobby told her, before turning to walk in the same direction as Sam.
Sam raced into Dean's hospital room, worried that Bobby had left him on his own. He sighed in relief when he saw the young nurse stroking his brother's cheek and singing to him softly.
"Hey," she whispered, looking up at Sam, who was staring at his unconscious brother through tear-filled eyes. "Your uncle Bobby asked me to sit with him while he went after you."
"Thanks," said Sam, sitting on the side of the bed.
The nurse stood up. "I'll leave you alone with the little cutie. If there's any change press the button, okay honey?"
Sam didn't answer, he was looking down at his injured brother, tears spilling over his eyes and down his cheeks, but he refused to wipe them away. "Hey little brother, you're going to be alright, you hear me? Please wake up. Please."
He laid down on the right side of the bed, and carefully curled himself around Dean's tiny motionless body, holding him gently. "Shh," he soothed, kissing his cheek. "Sammy's here. I'm going to protect you."
He reached over, and turned on the CD player. "There you go," he whispered when the room filled with the quiet sounds of the sesame street characters. "I don't want to make you cry with my terrible singing."
When Dean continued laying there motionless, Sam closed his eyes and held onto his beloved brother. "Anybody who wants to hurt you again, will have to get through me first. I'll be right here with you... I'm not going anywhere until you wake up. Can you hear me?"
Bobby stood silently at the door, tears filling his own eyes as he watched the heartbreaking scene before him.
"I love you so much," Sam whispered, stroking the bruised and swollen face gently with knuckles that were also swollen and already bruising.
Later, Sam had Spongebob on the TV, and was telling Dean everything that happened. He wanted him to know he was right there with him, so Sam never stopped talking.
"Patrick's a big silly, isn't he?" he asked with a smile, shaking his head. He heard movement at the door, and looked up and said hi when he saw the nurse from earlier come in to check on Dean.
The nurse smiled at him, before turning to the unconscious child on the bed. "Hey little cutie, let's check you out and see how you're doing, huh?" she whispered softly, before picking up the chart and reaching down to check Dean's pulse and his breathing.
Sam stood up and watched her every move with narrowed eyes. He relaxed slightly when she touched his brother gently and told him everything she was doing. She sighed when she saw there was no change, and wrote his vitals down on the chart.
"How is he?" asked Sam nervously when the nurse was done.
"He's still hanging in there, honey. Make sure you don't put any pressure on his left side."
"Does he..." Sam bit his lip and ran his fingers through Dean's fringe. "Is he in any pain?"
"No. The meds are taking care of that. I'm sure he'll be okay."
"If he was okay, he'd be awake right now."
The nurse walked over to place her hand on Sam's arm. "Keep talking to him, I'm sure he'll hear you. All you can do is be there for him until he decides to come back to you."
Sam nodded, and sat back in his chair. He took Dean's tiny hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it gently.
"I'll tell you what, I'll bring you some children's books so you can read to him. I know kids like stories."
Sam smiled, and looked up at her. "He loves it when I read to him. He won't go to sleep unless I read to him or sing his bedtime song."
"What kind of books does he like?" she asked, looking down at Dean with a smile.
"Different kinds, but he loves books with talking animals. I always do funny voices for them, they always make him laugh."
"Okay then, I'll make sure the books are all about animals. You never know, he could hear you reading and wake up, laughing," said the nurse, gently squeezing Sam's arm comfortingly.
"I really hope you're right. Thanks."
"You're welcome. I'll be back soon with the books. You know what to do if anything changes."
A couple of hours later, there was a knock at the door. Sam and Bobby looked up to see one of the police officers standing there.
"Mr Chester?"
"Yeah, that's me," answered Sam, holding Dean's limp hand in his.
"I've come to let you know that you won't be arrested for your actions earlier. You were very lucky not to be, the driver suffered a severe concussion and fractured skull, and some bones in his face were broken including his nose, and he lost two teeth... and he still hasn't regained consciousness yet."
"What a shame," said Sam emotionlessly as he stared at the little boy.
"You almost beat a guy to death, Mr Chester. The only reason we didn't arrest you for assault is because me and my partner have children of our own about Dean's age, and if this happened to any of them, we'd do the same thing." The officer's expression turned angry as he looked behind him to make sure no nurses were around, before turning back to the two distraught men. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but if I have to be honest, he deserved it. When we escorted him from his room to where you saw him, he kept laughing and making jokes like what he did was the funniest thing in the world. He's seriously lucky I didn't hit him myself... or shoot him."
"You should have."
"Don't do anything like that again, okay? Otherwise we'll have to arrest you."
'I can't promise that,' thought Sam, but remained silent, so Bobby said "Thanks," for both of them.
The officer nodded, and looked down at Dean with sympathy in his brown eyes. "How's he doing?"
"He's still the same."
"I'm sure he'll wake up soon, and if he's anything like my boy, he'll be a little monster, terrorising the place," he joked, making Sam smile slightly. "I have to get back to the station, but I just wanted to stop by. Bye guys."
"Yeah, see ya," answered Bobby. "He seems like a nice guy."
"Mmm," murmured Sam, still not taking his eyes away from Dean, it was as if he was afraid his brother would leave him if he so much as blinked.
"He'll be alright, Sam. We know what a stubborn little guy he is."
"I hope you're right, Bobby."
*TWO DAYS LATER*
A couple of days later, Dean still wasn't awake. Bobby and Sam were worried sick about him, but at least he no longer needed the oxygen mask; it had been replaced by a nasal cannula because his breathing was still a little ragged.
The two men stood beside the bed, looking down at the bruised form, as if they were standing guard over him, trying to protect him from anything which threatened to harm him.
That part of the hospital room was now covered with little teddies and 'get well' balloons from the nurses and even Neil the paramedic. It seemed that Sam and Bobby weren't the only ones who were worried about the young Winchester.
Sam sniffed, and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
"Hey, are ya alright?"
"It's been nearly three days now, Bobby. What if the doctors were wrong? What if he's even more hurt than they thought? What if... What if he doesn't wake up?" he asked, voicing his worst nightmare.
"Don't think like that, Sam," said Bobby, placing his hand comfortingly on his shoulder.
"I can't help it. Even the doctor said he should've woke up by now when he checked on him last night. They're taking him for tests this afternoon. It's his birthday in a couple of days, he can't miss that." He paused to wipe his eyes again. "I swear, I'd do anything... even sell my soul just to see him open those big green eyes and smile at m-" he broke off, a weird expression crossing his face.
Bobby saw the look, and slapped him around the head. "Don't even think about it."
"OW!" said Sam, rubbing his head. "What the hell was that for?"
"Ya know what it was for, Sam."
Sam sighed, and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his fingers through the floppy blond hair, which fell across the white bandage covering the injured forehead. "Hey, do you want another story, Gizmo?" he asked, reaching over to pick up one of the books on the bedside table.
Bobby smiled, and watched Sam get comfortable and open the book to the beginning.
"This one's about a baby frog." Sam cleared his throat and began, his fingers continued stroking through his brothers blond hair. "Freddy was a lonely little frog, he was bullied by his brothers and sisters because he couldn't jump high like they did..."
Bobby sat down on the other side of the bed, and listened to the story, never taking his eyes off Dean.
That afternoon, the doctor took Dean for some more tests to see if there was something wrong; a reason Dean still hadn't woke up yet.
Bobby sat on his chair, eyes following Sam as the worried Winchester paced around the room, holding Mr Fuzzy wuzzy tightly in his arms. He had been pacing for the past hour, and was starting to get on Bobby's nerves.
"If ya don't sit down, I swear I'll tie ya to that chair," Bobby threatened the younger man who was nervously chewing at his lower lip and continuing to pace. "SAM!"
Sam still didn't react, too wrapped up in his worries about his little brother.
"Sam," said Bobby, getting up from the chair, and walking over to put his hands on his shoulders. "Hey Sam."
The now older Winchester finally stopped in his tracks and looked at Bobby, the devastated expression almost breaking his heart. "What?"
"Try to relax," Bobby told him, squeezing the shoulders gently. "Dean's going to be okay."
"Everyone keeps saying that, and yet he's still unconscious. How the hell can he be okay?"
"Don't yell at me, boy. I'm just as worried about him."
Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, and sighed. "I know... Sorry." He looked down at the teddy in his arms. "I want him back. I'm his big brother now, I'm supposed to look after him."
"And yer doing a great job. Ya haven't slept or hardly left his side since he was brought in here." Bobby smiled sadly, and led Sam over to sit on the chair. "Sit down, before ya fall down," he said, sitting beside him.
As they waited, neither man spoke, both as worried about their little boy as each other.
Awhile later, two nurses finally wheeled Dean back into the room, followed by the doctor.
As soon as he saw Dean, Sam shot up and ran over to the bed. "Here you go," he whispered to his motionless brother, gently laying the teddy in the crook of his good arm. "He's been waiting for you." He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on the bandaged forehead.
Bobby smiled down at Dean, then looked up at Dr Gregson. "How is he? Why won't he wake up?"
"The tests revealed a slight change; there's now a little swelling but luckily no bleeding in his brain. We also noticed that he has a small linear fracture in his skull in the same place he hit his head. So those combined with his severe concussion, would account for his lack of consciousness. But I'm very optimistic he will make a recovery. He's a strong little guy."
Sam closed his eyes, and grabbed hold of Dean's hand. Bobby went to stand on the other side of the bed, and started stroking Dean's hair.
The doctor watched the scene in-front of him with a sad smile, and a sympathetic look in his eyes. "Try not to worry too much. I'm sure if he keeps hearing your voices, he'll know you're both here with him, and wake up. I've seen it happen on many occasions, all you have to do is wait, and don't give up hope."
The two men didn't answer him, they were busy talking to Dean in low voices, pleading for him to wake up.
"I'll leave you both alone for now. But I'll be back later to check on him," he told them, nodding at the two nurses, and leaving the little family alone.
Standing at Dean's bedside that evening, Sam once again felt guilt overtake him as he watched his unconscious little brother. His eyes wandered over Dean's pale face, taking in those loved features, the long eyelashes brushing against his pale cheek, his freckles adorning his tiny nose and cheeks, his lips parted as he breathed with a little help from the cannula.
Sam took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his messy brown hair. "I'm still here, you know... Waiting for you to wake up and give me one of your cheeky grins," he said with a fond smile. The smile dropped after a few seconds, and he sighed, shaking his head.
"I'm really sorry. It's my fault you're laying here all bruised and broken, I should've left you with uncle Bobby... I don't think I can forgive myself for this."
Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I saw the guy who did this to you a few days ago. If it wasn't for uncle Bobby, I would've killed him. He was... He was joking and laughing like it was a big joke." He looked away with a little smile. "Well, he's not laughing any more, he's still in hospital too."
"I hope you're having happy dreams in there. Because I don't want you to be scared... even if I am," he confessed, taking the limp hand gently. "I'm scared you won't wake up." Sam struggled to keep his emotions in check and not cry, even though he wanted to. He had cried enough in the past couple of days, he had to be strong for Dean.
"It's your birthday soon, and I promise that after you wake up and aren't in too much pain, we'll take you to this place where loads of animals are," he whispered as if it was a secret. "There are horses and little ponies you can ride on, and even baby tigers you can hold. Would you like that?"
The only response he got was the beeping of Dean's heart monitor, the sound almost mocking him. The tiny Winchester remained motionless on the bed.
"Please wake up," Sam pleaded, lowering his head, another tear falling down his cheek. "Come on. I... I miss you. Uncle Bobby misses you too," he whispered, his tearful eyes wandering over the little face. "Please come back."
After wiping the tear, Sam looked over at the window. The cartoon curtains were open, so he could see the dark sky. "Hey, the stars are out... Do you want me to sing your bedtime song?"
Running his finger down Dean's freckled nose, Sam softly started singing. "When the sun goes to sleep, and the moon lights up the skies, it's time for Deanie to clo..." Sam shook his head, and changed it slightly. "...To open his eyes," he sang, hoping that instead of helping Dean sleep, this time it would help him wake up. "When the stars wake up, looking like speckles, it's time to kiss Deanie's freckles..." He paused to gently kiss Dean's freckled cheeks, before continuing to the end.
After the bedtime song still didn't work, Sam took a deep shuddering breath, and finally broke down. "I'm so sorry," the distraught Winchester sobbed, falling to his knees at Dean's bedside with the uninjured little hand still wrapped in his. "Please don't leave me. I-I love you... Just... please." Sam took one of his hands away, and gently started stroking Dean's hair.
Receiving no answer, he sighed and did something he hadn't done for a long time. He closed his eyes, and prayed.
"H-Hey mom... if you're up there... please watch over Dean. Don't let him die... please. God can't have him, he's mine. I've lost everyone else I've ever loved, but I can't lose him... I can't. If god takes him, then he'll have to take me too because I can't live without him. Just... just look after him until you can bring him back to me. Please."
Sam leaned over his brother, and gently kissed his pale cheek. "I'll be right here when you wake up, Deanie. And I'm going to give you the biggest hug ever and never let you go again. You hang in there, you hear me?"
Sam closed his eyes. "Please wake up, little brother," he pleaded, bursting into fresh tears.
He didn't even notice Bobby had come into the room until the older man knelt beside him, wrapped him in his arms, and held him to his chest.
"Shh, I've got ya, Sam. Our boy's going to be okay... He's a fighter."
Sam didn't answer, he cried like his heart was breaking, even more than it was already broken.
That night Sam finally got some sleep for the first time in nearly three days. As him and Bobby slept, none of them saw the blond figure standing beside the bed.
"Wake up honey," she whispered, running her fingers softly down the uninjured cheek. "Sammy's waiting for you." After laying a gentle kiss to his lips, she closed her eyes and vanished, leaving them alone.
Dean moaned in pain, his right eye fluttering open. "S'my?" he mumbled, looking around the decorated room with his one good eye until he landed on Sam's head laying beside him. His hand tightened on the big hand wrapped around his as he whimpered in pain. "Sammy Sammy ouchie... Ouchie Sammy."
Sam heard a child's voice, and felt the little hand move in his, and his eyes opened. "Dean?" he asked, his head shooting up from the bed, his body almost falling off the chair. Sitting up straight, he looked into the one green eye of his little brother.
"Dean? Oh my god, it's a miracle," said Sam, a joyful happy smile on his face as he climbed onto the bed, and pulled Dean into his arms to give him a gentle hug. He was being very careful not to squeeze him, or hurt the broken arm and his entire left side. It was hard, because all he wanted to do was give him the biggest hug in the world.
"Ouchie," moaned Dean, the sound both breaking Sam's heart and warming it at the same time at hearing Dean finally speak.
"Shh. It's okay. Sammy's got you," soothed Sam, reaching over for the call button, before laying kisses all over the badly bruised face gently. "Oh god, it's so good to see you awake," he whispered, tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks once more- this time in relief.
"Hurt, Sammy," cried Dean through sobs, squeezing Mr Fuzzy wuzzy with his good arm. He hurt everywhere, and he was so scared. "Ouchie."
"Shh. The doctors coming. He's going to make it better," he whispered, relishing the feeling of holding an awake and moving Dean in his arms. "Oh, I'm sooooo glad you've decided to wake up. I've missed you so much."
"W-Weally scareds, Sa-Sammy."
"I know Gizmo, I know. But you're awake now, that's all that matters."
As he soothed his brother, Sam swore he heard the faint fluttering of wings in the distance.
TBC
Hope you like
