Thanks to everyone for the reviews! This is certainly not the first time I've posted, but it is the first time I've posted here, so I really appreciate the response. On with chapter 4!
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The florescent lights glinted off sleek black metal and chrome, the driver walking around the rear of the vehicle he had parked in service entry of the hospital. The car truly was too long to park here, but it was late enough that he didn't care. Why was it always two a.m. when he pulled into a hospital anyway? Guess that part didn't matter. He sighed, scratching fingers through his short grey hair. Sooner I take care of this, sooner I can get some sleep.
Dean pulled into the hospital lot, heart skipping a beat at the sight of the gleaming hearse under the winter haloed lights. Come on, Winchester, there's five hundred patients in there, that's not for Sam. Can't have gotten here too late....
A second man joined the driver as the glass hospital doors slid open, pushing out a gurney draped in a deep burgundy velvet. With practiced familiarity they transferred their charge into the waiting vehicle, the velvet cover never slipping to reveal the form beneath. A rumble of an engine and they were gone.
Ok, pretty much gonna have to let go of the steering wheel to get in there, Dean. Great, talking to myself here. Wouldn't be talking to myself if Sam's ass were in that passenger seat where it belongs. Yeah, yeah I would. Not like I'd be telling my little brother that I think I may be permanently afraid of velvet blankies now. Fearless. Yep that's me. Give me a werewolf, I'm good to go. Make me get out of my own car and walk up to a reception desk, not so much.
His feet finally made the trip to the information desk, confronting a drowsy looking clerk.
"May I help you?"
"Hope so. I'm looking for..." Crap, what name would Sam have used? Maybe I could ask for this Jessica Moore? But what if she's some sort of school administrator or something? Wouldn't be here at this hour. No, from her voice she knows Sam, knows him well. Still, Ms. Desk Clerk here isn't going to have visitor names. And then it finally hit him. Sam wasn't part of his underground hiding out world any more. If Sam was still here, please, please let him be here, it would be as Sam. "Sam, Sam Winchester."
The clerk gave him a quizzical look at the pause, but began tapping at the keyboard. An eyebrow rose. "I'm sorry, but that patient has restricted information. Family only."
Restricted? Dean nodded, producing the only piece of plastic in his bulging wallet that was printed with the words Dean Winchester. "I'm his brother."
She peered at Kansas driver's license and nodded. "Take the silver elevator at the end of the hall to the fourth floor, get out the rear door and turn right. ICU is all the way to the end. You'll need to check in at the desk."
Dean gave her a tight lipped nod. ICU wasn't what he wanted to hear.
The second desk clerk looked as bored as the first, at least until she took the offered ID. "Winchester, huh? I heard he didn't have any family, just the girlfriend. He's in room eight, but next visiting time isn't until 7am. Here you go, times and ICU policies are all in the pamphlet."
Dean automatically took the offered blue paper, shoving it into his jacket. He had no intention of leaving without seeing Sam right now. The clerk was young, if he'd had the energy for a smile, he'd have been past the desk already. He stilled the trembling inside him. Probably just all that coffee. "I just drove thirty-five hours straight to get here. I. am. not. waiting. for. seven. a. m." Dean generally prefered charm to intimidation, at least with the ladies, but at the moment he just wanted in Sam's room.
She sized up the man before her, looking at him for the first time. Exhausted, angry, a little desperate. Trouble in a big way. "You're gonna cost me my job, you know that? Look, five minutes and then you go back out to our waiting room. His girlfriend's out there, she can fill you in." She took another long look at Dean as he turned toward the indicated room, and found she was now talking to the back of a worn leather jacket. "And don't make me call hospital security to get you out of there!"
Dean let the sounds of the room seep in as he edged closer to the bed, the pale form there giving no indication that it still held the ceaseless energy, the nonstop curiosity, or hell the just plain fidgetyness that was Sam. How could this have happened? This wasn't some hunt gone bad. This is where Sam had escaped to be normal, safe. And Dean had let him go. Left him unprotected. Somehow bought in to Sam's idea that he was leaving the danger of their lives behind. Sure Dean had been on ER trips with Sam before, even a couple of overnight hospital stays, but this was the first time he'd seen his brother rendered helpless, invaded by tubes and dependent on strangers for his very breath. Oh God Sammy. I left you alone and look at you. Don't you die.
In the end the clerk shouldn't have worried about her five minute time limit. Dean was bolting for bathroom retching in just under three.
He gave up on splashing water on his face and finally stuck his whole head under the ice cold tap, grabbing a handful of papertowels as he straightened up. Get it together already. A glance in the mirror wasn't particularly reassuring. He took another swipe at his stubbled face and marched out the door.
There were more people in the waiting area than you might expect for the hour, most dozing, a few looking up expectantly at Dean and then deflating as they realized he had no news to offer their families. Only three people were alone, two of those younger women, both asleep. He looked at both, the first a brunette with classical features, pretty in a demure, studious sort of way. Probably right up Sam's alley. The other, well, that was another matter. Willowy with waves of blonde hair, a face that was beautiful even with the livid bruises marring china doll skin. The kind of girl that had always reduced Sam's vocabulary to four or five words, made him flounder to come up with his own name. The kind of girl Dean would be all over. Except.... Except.... Dean couldn't shake the feeling that this was Jessica. Maybe Sam was learning something at this school after all.
One way to find out. Dean walked over to where she slept, curled on her side against the grey tweed chair back, knees pulled up under her chin. He squatted down to eye level, a habit he'd picked up when Sam was a child. Looked less imposing that way. A tentative hand tapped her knee. "Jessica Moore?"
The effect was instantaneous. The name Sam slipped from her lips, but her eyes shot open, catching site of a stranger ten inches away. Her knees pulled in tighter if possible, posture tense and wary. "Leave me alone."
"Hey, easy. You are Jessica?" Life with Sam did provide you with certain freak out prevention techniques. "It's ok. I'm Dean. Sam's brother."
"Dean." She stared at him a minute, then dug out a wallet from the gym bag at her feet. Sam's wallet. She fished out a picture and looked at it, then across to the man before her, slowly nodding. "You decided to show up."
"Of course I showed up. I tried calling Sam's phone about three hundred times on the way here, why didn't you answer it? Had me thinking Sam was d-de...." Dean made an effort to rein in his frustration. "Anyway, what the hell's going on?"
"The police have it."
"What?"
"The police. You've heard of them? They took Sam's phone. Sorry it interfered with you calling for the first time in two years." Jess uncoiled herself in the chair, surprised she'd let her fears loose on Sam's brother. Really wasn't her style. "Look, I wasn't sure you'd come. Sam's, ah, pretty quiet about his family. Not really sure what I should say."
"You mean you're not sure what Sam would want me to know." Damn. She's protecting Sam...from me. "Look, I can't back this up right now, but what you think about our family....you're not right. Sam and I... I'd do anything for Sam." Dean's jaw tightened at thought of his brother in that bed. "Putting him on the bus out here was the worst day of my life, and there have been some humdingers to pick from, believe me. Staying away from him was supposed to make things better, give him a chance to be himself. I thought I was taking care of him. If I could take his place in there right now, I would."
Jess was caught in the jade green eyes, seeing far more there than a moment should be able to convey. She finally broke the gaze, studying her shoes instead. "I believe you. Truce and start again?"
Dean considered the flare of temper her words had provoked and decided it was worry and exhaustion. Maybe a jealous pang. "Truce. You ready to tell me what's going on?"
The story tumbled forth in jerky bits, Jessica speeding up as the blonde, no, he's Pullman she reminded herself, the police said his name was Mark Pullman, grabbed her.
"I fell when he hit me, hit the pavement too hard, couldn't get up. The other two pinned my hands, Pullman had a knife in his hand all the sudden, he was... uhh, he was unzipping my skirt. He... well..... he was going to... and then.... uhh... Sam was just... there. I never heard him until the step before he jerked him off me by the hair and threw him into the brick wall of the bar. Pullman took a lunge at him with that knife, but Sam kicked it out of his hand somehow, pushed him against the wall again and started pummeling him.
One of the others jumped on Sam's back, wrapped an arm around his throat choking him. I was screaming at him; I don't think Sam ever heard me. He was so angry. He's never angry.... He threw his elbow back, hit the guy in the stomach with it, knocked the wind out of him. Guess that loosened his hold on Sam's neck, because then Sam pulled his arm loose, twisted it around. I heard it snap, couldn't believe it. I think that's when the third one took off running.
I kept trying to get up, go get help.... but I was so dizzy.... The one that tried to choke Sam, well after his arm broke he didn't get back up.... kind of laid there on the ground, curled up over his arm rocking. But Pullman, he was still on his feet....
He'd gotten a few punches in while Sam was dealing with the other one, let him slip past him and grab me again.....was trying to pull me up in front of him before Sam could turn around, but he was too slow. Sam kicked him again, came around from the side and took his legs right out from under him. The guy was laying there on the pavement and Sam had a knife at his throat. Told him never to come near me again.....He pulled it out of his boot, Dean.....Sam......My Sam had a knife in a sheath in his boot. Why the hell would it be there? I could see Pullman's face. He thought Sam was going to slit his throat. Guy was begging him not to kill him.
I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. For a minute it wasn't Sam... I thought ... well I'm not sure what I thought. Then Sam grabbed a fistful of his hair, slammed his head backward into the asphalt, knocked him out.....Think I fainted."
Jess looked up with a start, quickly swiping a tear away as she remembered she had an audience. "Where did he learn that Dean? I'm not ungrateful, but I've never seen anybody fight like that, much less Sam. He'd never hurt a fly. Do you have any idea where that came from?"
Dean didn't know exactly how close Sam was to this girl, but their past was obviously a mystery to her. Guess I've never seen him hurt a fly, specifically..."Yeah, I've got a few guesses." Now that he'd gotten her talking there was no need to provide details. "So far I don't see Sam as the one in the hospital. Then what?"
"Oh, those two did end up in the hospital. One of then is still here, had a splenectomy." She caught a sudden nervous look from Dean, misinterpreted it completely. "Don't worry, the police are outside his room. "But Pullman died in surgery a few hours after we all got here. Police said he bled into his brain."
Shit, Sammy killed him. Ok, I would have too in the same circumstances, but Sam? "And?"
"And, Sam and I were both ready to leave here the next morning and we walked out to the car. Almost made it too. Sam must have heard the cocking of the gun. He tackled me just as it hit him." Jess spent the next half an hour describing the events of the last three days in as much detail as either of them could stomach.
"The docs aren't sure now. They say the gunshot wound itself should heal up ok, but his blood pressure got so low from blood loss and the two codes that it created some organ damage. Now I'm supposed to be sitting out here waiting to see if he wakes up. Sometime yesterday afternoon they started giving me the 'need to be ready in case he doesn't' speech. I remember that from my grandfather's stroke. It's like a four day plan. First day you get all the mumbo explanations of what happened, then you get the 'this may not go well' day, third day out everyone gets so nice to you you just want to scratch their eyes out while they're telling you not to hope, fourth day and you're saying goodbye. Tomorrow's day four, Dean and I can't say goodbye to Sam. I love him."
She loves him. Humphfff. Sam really did build himself a life here. "No one's saying goodbye to my brother, Jessica. We'll wait it out together. He will get better, you hear me?" He took her hand to soften the firm tone of his words.
She nodded, didn't pull away at his touch this time. Dean traced a tear down her cheek, wiping his thumb against his jeans. She was crying, but it wasn't the hysterical sobbing Dean might have predicted. She'd been through hell the last few days, but there was resolve in her clear blue eyes, a determination to see Sam through this. I know now what Sam sees in this girl, and it's not the pretty blonde curls.
But why did Sam's last word to me have to be goodbye?
