Dean called Bobby several hours later, standing in the hallway outside of Sam's room, wearing a fresh t-shirt and jeans from some kind of "clothes closet" the hospital apparently kept stocked with new donated clothing for patients and their families.
At first, Dean had been reluctant to accept when Rebecca had made the offer. But he couldn't deny how good it would feel to wear clothes not stained by his brother's blood. There was already enough to remind him of what had happened earlier that evening without having to see those rust-red smears every time he looked down.
Rebecca had beamed at him when Dean had finally agreed, and had stayed with Sam as her patient's brother had quickly changed in the bathroom.
When Dean had emerged, he had decided it was time to call Bobby...which was why he was standing in the hall now, holding the phone and watching Rebecca through the window as she tended to Sam.
The big brother not quite sure what she was doing but appreciating how gentle she was treating his kid.
That automatically won bonus points with Dean.
He smiled his appreciation as she glanced at him, and then refocused on the phone as Bobby answered on the fourth ring.
"Yeah..."
"Bobby."
Dean could hear Bobby blink, the older hunter having not expected Dean's voice on the opposite end of the line.
"Dean? Didn't recognize the number..." Bobby commented but didn't sound concerned, especially since the brothers changed phones with the regularity that most people changed underwear. "You boys headed back home?"
And of course Bobby would ask that.
Because that was the plan the last time he had talked with them – to kill the shifter and then get back on the road, headed to Bobby's...headed home.
But life had thrown a curveball.
Dean hesitated. "Uh, no. We're still in Wisconsin."
Bobby immediately sensed trouble, hearing the worry in Dean's voice. "What's wrong? Where's Sam?"
Dean smiled at how well the older hunter knew him...and then felt startled by the urge to cry. "Bobby. It's bad."
Dean could picture Bobby processing those two words, detecting his fear and hearing his voice shake with raw emotion.
"Where are you?" the older hunter asked, moving through his house.
"ICU at Geneva Falls General," Dean answered, pressing the hospital phone closer to his ear – the one Rebecca had allowed him to use at her station – and glanced over his shoulder as another patient's monitors began to blare down the hall.
Dean frowned, instantly turning to check on Sam, to make sure Sam was still stable.
Rebecca was staring straight back at him through Sam's window as if she had anticipated Dean's reaction, giving the big brother an "ok" sign.
Dean's gaze swept over Sam's body, satisfied that his kid was indeed just as he had left him minutes before.
"I'm on my way," Bobby told Dean over the sound of keys being snatched from their hook and a door slamming behind him.
More than six hours later, Bobby was walking down the hall of the Intensive Care Unit with a duffel slung over his shoulder.
Out in the parking lot, his tow truck was waiting to retrieve the Impala from wherever Dean had left her.
But the old girl could wait.
First, Bobby had two boys he needed to see.
The old hunter quickened his pace at the thought, heading toward Sam's room and attracting the attention of a young nurse whose expression and ponytail were both entirely too perky for 3am.
"Hi there," she smiled and stepped forward to block Bobby's path, polite but firm in her position. "I'm not sure how you accessed this unit, but visiting hours are over."
Bobby arched an eyebrow. "Are they?"
The nurse followed the newcomer's gaze and glanced over her shoulder at her patient's brother asleep at his bedside. She smiled at the sweet scene and then refocused on the man in front of her, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Because this was none of his business...
"That is a special situation. He has special permission to stay. You, on the other hand..."
Bobby chuckled at her response, having an idea of Dean's aggressive, vocal, potentially violent reaction when he had been told to leave Sam for the night...and how "special permission" had quickly been granted to calm the raging big brother and thus deal with this "special situation".
And if Bobby knew his boys, he suspected Sam had reacted badly to the attempted separation as well.
"Let me guess..." Bobby drawled, knowing what he was about to say would change the nurse's opinion of him for the better. "When you announced it was time for him to leave, Dean told you to fuck off, and Sam's numbers went through the roof the second he lost contact with his brother."
The nurse blinked at the near perfect description of what had happened several hours before – Dean becoming pissed and defiant, his hand slipping from Sam's as he had stood in his anger...and then Sam's monitors had started to blare. Her patient undeniably reacting to the absence of Dean's touch since Sam had leveled out just as quickly once Dean's hand was back in his.
Bobby chuckled again. "That's what I thought," he commented, knowing he was right by her silence.
The nurse tilted her head. "Who are you?"
"Their uncle," Bobby answered without hesitation, unsure if Dean had mentioned him to this nurse but...
"Oh my goodness," the nurse gasped, her demeanor instantly changing as her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Of course. Uncle Bobby," she said as if it was all so obvious now. "Dean called you earlier."
Bobby nodded, feeling the warmth in his chest that always occurred whenever it was confirmed that his boys had not only mentioned him, but had called him by name and claimed him as family.
The nurse smiled. "Please forgive me," she told Bobby. "I was expecting you, just not so soon. And well..." She shrugged apologetically. "I can be a little protective of my patients. Especially this one..." she added, glancing again over her shoulder and through the window of Sam's room. "Sam is so sweet. He's not even awake, but I just know he is. I can sense it. And Dean...Dean is so good with him. I've never seen brothers so close."
Bobby nodded once more, feeling a burst of love and pride as this nurse gushed over his boys. "They're quite a pair," he agreed, smiling at her. "And don't worry about before. Anybody who's protective of Sam and Dean is alright by me."
The nurse turned back to Bobby. "Same here," she replied with a wink and extended her small hand. "I'm Rebecca."
Bobby shifted the duffel on his shoulder and shook her hand. "So, Rebecca...are uncles covered by this special permission to stay?"
Rebecca smiled. "Absolutely." Her bright expression faded. "They need you."
She could sense that, too.
Bobby felt his heart twist at the sadness and concern in her voice.
There was a beat of silence between them, the hall filled with the mechanical sounds of equipment keeping patients alive along with the hushed voices of other nurses in the unit.
"How is he?"
"He's holding his own," Rebecca replied, assuming Bobby was asking about Sam, though the statement could describe both brothers.
They were both holding their own in this impossibly difficult situation – Sam remaining stable, Dean remaining strong.
Rebecca sighed. "Go head," she urged Bobby, stepping aside and gesturing behind her. "Check on your nephews. We can always talk more later."
Bobby nodded, intending to take her up on that offer, and crossed to Sam's room. The old hunter standing in the doorway and watching his boys sleep.
Dean sitting by the bed and slumped forward at an awkward angle, his head resting on the mattress beside Sam's hip; his hand loosely holding his little brother's.
Sam was settled against a bank of pillows, pale and barely recognizable beneath the bruises and scratches and swelling combined with the wires and monitors and tubes seeming to cover him.
His right arm was casted, his forehead had been stitched in two separate places, and his mouth was stretched wide to accommodate the ventilator tube currently causing his chest to rise and fall.
And although all of that was upsetting, it was what Bobby couldn't see that caused his heart to pound.
Because the older hunter could clearly see the outline of Sam's right leg stretching long and straight beneath the sheet...but he couldn't see the same on Sam's left side since the kid's left leg now ended at his knee.
Bobby swallowed at the realization, at the undeniable fact that half of Sam's left leg was gone.
The older hunter shook his head, his eyes seeing...but his mind, his heart struggling to believe.
No wonder Dean had sounded so worried, so scared over the phone.
It's bad.
...which was the kind of understatement people made when they were overwhelmed by the reality of how bad a situation was, how severe.
Because this was a catastrophic, life-changing injury...and the boys would be counting on Bobby to help see them through it, to walk beside them as they navigated this unexpected path and found their new normal.
New normal.
Bobby swallowed, thankful he could walk again but remembering when his "new normal" had involved paralysis and wheelchairs and so much anger over what had happened to him that most days he had considered just ending it.
But the boys had stuck by him. During one of the worst years of Bobby's life, Sam and Dean had loved him through it. Had refused to give up on him, had refused to let Bobby give up on himself. They had been there, had been what Bobby had needed, and he damn well was going to be there for them now.
Bobby nodded, accepting his role – whatever the brothers needed, he would always give them – and consciously rearranged his expression, determined to remain strong for his boys.
The older hunter sighed, soundlessly entering the room and sitting on the opposite side of Sam's bed; his gaze scanning the monitors before checking the kid and then settling on the kid's big brother.
It was easy to see that Sammy was a mess...and that Dean hadn't left his side.
Bobby smiled softly, leaning back in his chair and helping to keep vigil as he waited for at least one of his boys to wake.
Dean woke to the sound of voices whispering and lifted his head from the mattress, feeling tired and stiff and achy as he squinted in the glare of the sun peeking through the thin, curtained window and tried to orient himself.
All at once, the events of the previous night rushed back to him.
The car accident, ICU, Sam...
Dean instinctively tightened his hold at the thought of his brother, relaxing when he felt Sam's hand still grasped within his own, and turned to look at his kid.
Sam still laid motionless in the bed. His eyes still closed, his face still bruised and swollen, his breaths still mechanically regulated by the tube resting in his throat.
And the lower half of his left leg was still gone.
So much for hoping it had all been a bad dream...
Dean sighed, feeling freshly gut-punched by that bitch named Reality, and glanced across the bed, blinking as he finally saw the source of one of the voices that had woken him.
"Bobby?"
Bobby smiled. "Morning..." he greeted and shifted in his chair, sympathizing with Dean's sore muscles.
Dean continued to blink. "When did you get here?"
Bobby shrugged, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Few hours ago."
"You should've woke me," Dean told him, sitting up a little straighter in his seat but maintaining his grip on Sam's hand.
The big brother determined to keep contact with his kid, to assure Sam that he was there. That Sam was not alone, that Dean was waiting for him on the other side of the darkness.
Bobby shook his head. "Nah," he dismissed about his option of waking Dean when he had first arrived at the hospital. "You needed to rest." He paused, glancing at Sam lying in the bed between them. "You both do."
Dean followed Bobby's gaze, staring at his brother. "I guess you saw..."
"Mmhmm," Bobby hummed and waited for Dean to lead the conversation.
The older hunter not missing the big brother's rigid posture or the way Dean kept his attention on Sam's face, seeming to refuse looking at the lower half of his brother's body.
Bobby sighed, recognizing the signs of grief associated with amputation...and it seemed Dean was firmly camped in stage one – disbelief and denial.
Maybe if he didn't look, it wouldn't be true.
Bobby sighed again.
The silence stretched, filled with the cadence of the monitors surrounding Sam, with the steady whoosh of the ventilator doing its job.
Dean cleared his throat, glancing at Bobby. "Who were you talking to?"
Bobby arched an eyebrow. "When?"
"Just now," Dean replied. "When I woke up, I heard two people talking."
"Oh..." Bobby commented and gestured toward the hallway. "Shift change. Sam's new nurse was introducing herself and checking his vitals."
Dean nodded and watched Sam's chest rise and fall.
Bobby continued to sit and wait.
Dean inhaled a shaky breath. "Do you know what happened?"
"I do," Bobby confirmed, having charmed Rebecca into letting him read her patient's chart in order to spare Dean the task of reliving the nightmare.
Dean arched an eyebrow at Bobby, suspecting what the older hunter had done.
Bobby shrugged. "What can I say? The ladies love me."
Dean smiled, thankful for the light moment, and then refocused on Sam; his thumb rubbing over his brother's scraped knuckles as his smile dissolved.
"I don't know what we're going to do," he confessed quietly. "When Sam wakes up...when he realizes...when he knows..."
Dean trailed off as his voice cracked.
He shook his head.
"I don't know what we're going to do," Dean repeated, tears stinging his eyes.
"I do," Bobby returned confidently, looking calm and collected as he continued to lean back in his chair on the opposite side of Sam's bed.
Dean looked at him, waiting for the answer.
"You're gonna be there for your brother," Bobby told him. "And I'm gonna be there for both of you. And we're all gonna get through this together and move on with our lives. That's what we're gonna do."
Dean allowed Bobby's words to wash over him, soothing him and reminding him they were a family...and they could handle anything as long as they were together.
...even this.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, his thumb still rubbing over Sam's knuckles as he held his brother's hand and waited for his kid to wake up.
END
