'witch...pain...fire, burn bitch...cops...Sam...my car...blood' thoughts slammed into Dean's head from all directions. Swirling streams, flashes of light, and annoying beeping nosies assalted his senses. 'fuck' was the last thought he had when he tried to open his eyes, he kept them closed. He sensed that he was in a hospital, he had been in more than his fair share to know the feel and smell of a hospital. He recognized the beeps and buzzes, the smell, and the feel of the beds. 'why did they all feel the same?' amused he tried not to think of why he was here. 'what happened...' he could not remember anything after telling Sam to go. His thoughts were fuzzy, something about apathy.
'got to find Sam' was an overwhelming urge to move, Dean realize that he could not sit up. He opened his eyes then, saw that he had bandages from elbow to fingers on both arms, and that he was strapped down to the bed. "What the fuck?" he whispered, looking around to find something go get himself out of the bonds.
"Ah, I see you are awake, good," a doctor with concerned, but tired eyes came into Dean's room and started checking his vitals. "You gave us quite a scare when they brought you in." The doctor looked at one thing then another, writing stuff down in a chart.
"What? Why am I tied down? Let me out of here," demanded Dean, looking at the doctor, straining against the staps.
"Calm down, you have to rest to recover after what you tried to do and what we had to do," the doctor said as he checked that the reatraints were still secure but not binding.
"'Calm down'?" Dean bit out, "how am I going to 'calm down' when you have me here tied to the damn bed!" he was nearly shouting, rage taking over. "What do you mean 'what I tried to do?" He started to thrash about, trying to loosen the bonds. Remaining calm, the doctor pressed the call button then went to the door to talk to a nurse. "Don't leave me here, you bastard, let me go! Wait, keep that shit away from me, I don't need your drugs!"
Coming back with a syringe, the doctor inserted it into the IV leading to Dean's right arm. "This will help you sleep. I know you are hurting, you need to rest." Trying to placate the enraged man, "You were found in the abandoned apartment building downtown, apparently tring to commit suicide. I don't know what is going on with you, but killing youself is not the answer."
Dean stopped at this, listening to the words coming out of the doctor's mouth, his eyes wide. 'suicide? what the fuck! I was not commiting suicide...that witch bitch scratced me' he looked down at his arms again. 'shit, that's what this stupid bastard believes.'
"I wasn't commiting suicide," he stated dryly. He was starting to feel the affects of the drug, his eyelids sliding closed. From a distance he heard that hissing voice, 'you cannot get away.' Opening his eyes wide, he wildly looked around the room. 'shit it's her' remembering that he was still trussed up, he had no way to defend himself.
"The police have your knife and shotgun. I do have to ask, how affective is rock salt as buck shot?" chuckling, the doctor walked to the door to leave. "We have a fine staff here to help you through this, hopefully you will take advantage of it. By the way, what is your name, we did not find any identification on you."
"Help me, Sam..." he whispered as he drifted off to the drug-indused sleep, trying to fight the injection. 'help me Sam,' his mind pleaded, 'she's not gone.'
The doctor wrote down "Sam" as the patient's name, made sure that the patient was asleep, then contiued to make his rounds.