*REVIEWS = Love, Thanks to film princess for being my beta and basically boosting this thing out XD. Dedicated to: Merisha, Mad Server, Enkidu07 & Sarah!
Warning: This fic does contain some "bad words".
Setting: Pre-series
Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of the characters. (Though I wish I did XD)
Summary: A deer runs into the road and Dean, desperate to avoid the collision, swerves
to avoid it but swerves right down a deep hill while John is following them.
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"Save the eulogy for a dead person, ya idjit. Or at least wait till the kid's awake!" came a voice from the doorway.
John turned around and smiled in recognition. "Bobby."
John started to get up and speak but Bobby raised a hand, silencing him. "It's been a long time, John. Sit down and keep yer trap shut. There'll be time for talk later."
Bobby winked at John and walked quietly over to the chair next to Sam's bed and sat down. He opened the bag he had brought with him, pulled a small journal out and started writing in it.
John sat in silence for several moments, staring at his ill-fated son. He eventually couldn't conceal his fear and anger any longer. "Damnit, Bobby! Why did he hide such a serious injury? Why did he so blatantly ignore the fact that he was dying! He must've felt it!"
Bobby just turned to John and silenced him again with a look. "There'll be time for questions later, John. Right now they need their rest."
John glanced back and forth between his two boys, unsure of where he was needed the most. Bobby spoke up to save him from choosing. "I've got the squirt. You keep an eye on the brat."
The room was blissfully quiet in the hours following this encounter. The two men kept vigil over the boys as the hours slowly ticked passed.
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The first thing Sam was aware of as he opened his eyes was a blurry dark figure standing next to him.
He kept perfectly still, unsure if it was friend or foe.
Bobby noticed the slight change in Sam's demeanor and smiled as he moved himself to be more centered in Sam's vision. "Just me, Sammy," he stated softly. "He's wakin' up, John."
Sam's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Bobby?"
"No, Santa…" he joked with a lighthearted smirk.
Bobby watched Sam carefully. Noting the confused expression on his face, he asked softly, "Do you remember what happened, kiddo?"
"Not really…" Sam struggled with his thoughts, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. "I…I remember wetness…and my head hurt really bad…"
"Speaking of which, how's your head feelin' this mornin'?"
"Sore, but not as bad as yesterday," Sam responded, then suddenly shot bolt upright in bed. "DEAN!" he screamed.
"Woah, woah, woah! Easy, kiddo!" John told him as he quickly made his way around to Sam's side.
"Your brother's gonna be fine. He's just restin' right now."
"No, something's wrong, dad! I can feel it!" he insisted, trying desperately to get out of bed and to Dean's side. Bobby and John kept Sam right where he was though, not allowing a single toe off the bed.
Dean, however, remained motionless in the bed a few feet away, trapped in a vivid nightmare.
"Deeeaaaannn…DEEEEAAAANNNN…!" playful voices taunted him from a distance.
He tried to shove them aside, but they grew in intensity, determined to be heard and preventing him from letting the darkness consume him.
He slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. It was at that moment he realized he was upside-down and staring at the roof of the Impala. Shattered glass covered her twisted frame and scraped against Dean's knuckles which hung loosely above his head.
The voices became muffled, then gave way to the sound of pouring rain beating against the pretzeled metal of the car. "Oh, god… What did I…?"
Dean snapped his head to the right, his brother's name dying on his lips when he realized Sam was no longer in the passenger seat. He contorted his body, trying to see whether or not his father's truck had pulled over nearby. "Dad???!!!!"
He tried to unclip his seatbelt but it wouldn't budge. His head was starting to throb from being upside down for so long. He gave up after a few tries. "Damn it…"
Dean fumbled in the dark for the interior lights and accidentally turned on the headlights instead. When he glanced through the pouring rain, he saw his father and brother staring at him with sightless eyes.
They were pinned to a giant oak… by the Impala.
"NO!!!!!! OH MY GOD, NO!!!! DAD?!! SAM??!!! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!!! SAM!!!!!!!!"
John quickly glanced over at Dean and noted that he was still sleeping peacefully despite his youngest's claims. "Sam, what are you talkin' about?"
"Something's wrong, dad! You've gotta trust me!" Sam yelled as he yet again made another desperate attempt to get to his brother by practically throwing himself off the bed.
Bobby and John tightened their grips, unsure what to believe now. Sam was clearly upset about something. "No! Let me go! DEAN!"
"Sammy!!! Oh my god, what have I done? Dad! Sammy, wake up! Please, Sammy! Dad, don't leave me!!"
He closed his eyes in frustration trying to remember what happened. Were they on their way to a hunt?
Suddenly, the car began to shake. Dean's injuries made themselves known and he gasped in pain and fear, clutching on the wheel in front of him for stability. The last thing he remembered feeling was a white-hot pain as the car began to thrust viciously from side-to-side.
Then everything went dark.
John knew better than to ignore the connection his boys seemed to share. He released Sam into Bobby's restrictive embrace, then walked quickly over to Dean's bed.
John reached over and gently shook Dean's shoulder. "Hey, kiddo, gotta wake up for a sec."
He hadn't expected an immediate response, but was hoping for maybe a twitch or something so he would know that his son was merely resting. Dean didn't budge in the slightest. John's heart began to speed up. Oh come on! Cut us a break for once!
"Dean?" he shook his son's shoulder a little harder and called his name with more urgency. Still nothing. "Damnit… Bobby! What's wrong with 'im?" John pleaded. "He's not responding.
Bobby told Sam to stay where he was and ran quickly over to Dean's side. He lifted Dean's eyelids, checking to see if the boy was conscious or not, and then tried pressing hard on one of Dean's nail beds. He anxiously waited a moment before he spoke.
"John, I think you'd better get a doctor in here ASAP."
"Why, Bobby? What's wrong? Talk to me, for Christ's sake!"
"Son of a bitch, John, just call him in! Now!"
John ran into the hallway. "HELP! I need some HELP IN HERE!"
His calls were soon answered by a passing nurse. "Sir? What's going…." her voice trailed off as she glanced in the room to find Bobby desperately trying to wake Dean up. "I'll get the doctor!" She hit the page button on her waist as she made her way across the room to Dean's bed.
She quickly got a set of vitals and the doctor breezed in the room shortly after, demanding her to report her findings.
"BP's 90/60, respirations are 14 and weak, pulse is 89 and thready," she rattled off.
"Has he shown any signs of coming around?" Dr. Kline asked of the anxiously awaiting family members.
"None that either of us can think of," John told him after sharing a look with Bobby.
"What's wrong with my brother?" pleaded Sam from his bed.
"We're going to need to ask everyone to clear the room. We need to run some tests," the nurse told them, trying to usher John and Bobby out, but the doctor stopped her.
"I see no harm in letting them stay with the other son," he stated as he pointed towards Sam. "Just stand behind the curtain and don't interfere."
Bobby and John quickly walked over to Sam's side of the room and tried to console him as best they could. Their hearts clenched as the curtain was pulled closed, sealing off their view of Dean.
They heard the doctor ordering various blood tests and portable scans.
The curtain was opened shortly after. "Mr. Singer and Mr…." the doctor trailed off, unaware of who the new stranger in the room was.
"Singer," Bobby filled in for him. "I'm the boys' uncle."
"If you two gentlemen would follow me out into the hallway for a moment, I believe there are some things we need to discuss."
John and Bobby started to stand up but were stopped by Sam's desperate pleas. "Wait! Please, if there is something wrong with my brother, just tell me!"
John looked between the doctor and Sam. "He's right. He needs to know whatever's going on with his brother."
"Well, I'm afraid the news isn't very encouraging. After running extensive testing, it has been determined that your son has some slight ICP, or intra-cranial pressure. Right now the pressure is not at a dangerous level, but it's bad enough that your son has slipped into a coma. Now comas are not uncommon with this type of injury, but the next 48 hours are critical. We will continue to monitor him closely."
"Oh my god….He's in a coma?" John fell heavily to his knees, causing both the doctor and Bobby to become alarmed.
"Mr. Singer, are you okay?" The doctor took a step forward, ready to assist if necessary.
"Am I okay? You're telling me my son is in a coma and you're askin' me if I'm okay?
What do you think?! Son of A BITCH!" John punched the floor as hard as he could, needing an outlet before he exploded.
The doctor backed away, stunned.
Bobby held up a hand in a placating gesture, afraid the doctor might go alert security.
"He'll be okay. Just give us some time."
The doctor nodded. "You can have me paged at the nurses' station if anything changes." He quietly stepped out of the room, leaving the distraught family to pull themselves back together.
"John, you're gettin' too old for this. Now let me see your hand, ya idjit. Could've broken the damn thing…"
John allowed Bobby to pull him unsteadily to his feet and look at the rapidly swelling limb.
Bobby palpated it gently. "Well, seems you were lucky this time. It's not broken, but I'm gonna run down to the nurses' station and see if I can get you some ice."
"Thhanks, Bobby." John gave him a half-hearted smile, glad he didn't have to go through all this alone.
Sam, who had been sitting stunned on the bed and now had tears streaking down his face, crawled out of bed and into his dad's open arms. They sat like that for awhile, basking in the warmth of each other's grasp.
Bobby walked back in the room to find John and Sam both stretched out on the hospital bed, fast asleep after all the excitement from earlier. "Damn Winchesters," he smiled sadly. "Closer then any of 'em will ever admit."
He put the ice gently on John's hand and then walked over to sit near Dean.
"You can never do anythin' the easy way, can ya? I wish I knew how the hell to get you out of this. Your dad and brother really need ya right about now."
Dean sat up slowly, blinking hard and trying to bring his surroundings into focus.
"Where am I?" he thought aloud. He then remembered the accident in bits and pieces.
The Impala…dad…Sam…crushed….
He closed his eyes in frustration, shame and sadness. "Oh god, I killed them…I killed all the family I had left."
"That's not true, Dean."
The voice came out of nowhere and made Dean jump.
"Wh-who are you?" Dean asked, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
"You don't really know me son…" the voice said, sounding closer this time. "But I know you and your family."
Dean looked up and saw a beautiful woman, probably in her 30's, with long chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. She looked vaguely familiar. He could remember seeing her, or a picture of her somewhere…
"Who are you?" he repeated, his voice stronger this time.
"My name is Catherine," she told him. "But you can call me Katie."
Dean thought about this for a moment. "Katie…" He looked up at her in shock. "Wait, Katie Singer?"
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