Summary: Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a garden variety ghost when a drunk driver derails their plans and may just change their lives forever. Sam suffers a debilitating injury and Dean is left to pick up the pieces.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I gain nothing from this story but the pure enjoyment of putting this idea out there. I don't have any power over the show, it's wonderful characters, or franchise and take no gratuity in return.
Chapter four:
The room was quiet, save the unmistakable sound of wet snoring off to his left. It was about time Dean got some sleep, Sam thought, shifting under his thin, sanitized covers. The bed, if you could call it that, was lumpy and unnaturally stiff. The product of mechanical interference. Hidden hydraulics and mechanized gears the main makeup of it's skeletal structure.
He had stayed in a lot of dingy hotel rooms in his lifetime, decorated with shoty bedding and thin mattresses, but even the worst paled in comparison to the hospital. No matter where the hospital was, each one had the same nauseating amenities and attributes. His blankets and pillows were nothing more then overrated cheese clothes. Used and washed to the brink of extinction.
Sam hated hospitals for many reasons. Sure, with the job, the Winchesters had been subjected to quite a few in their travels and he knew he wasn't alone in his distaste, but what really made Sam's stomach turn each time he came across one, was the knowledge that not everybody that entered, came back out again. Both a comforting recollection and a disturbing one, the occupants were there for natural reason's rather then that of supernatural interference and he would be the first to admit it bothered him. Sam could only remember once or twice he had been a tenant for something other then supernatural intervention, however, so that to was a crucial factor.
Their whole lives, the brothers had sought to save human life, to eliminate the unnatural threat of evil hanging in the shadows. That's what they'd been raised to do, honed and conditioned for. Knowing that a hospital, advertised as a safe haven to heal, was actually the harbinger of death made Sam terribly un-comfortable and unavoidably edgy. A feeling which only worsened after the Impala was demolished by a demon controlled semi and he'd been faced with loosing, not one, but both, of his remaining family members.
The sting of seeing his father, the great John Winchester, crumpled and helpless, on the dirty hospital linoleum was still so fresh in Sam's mind, it haunted his dreams with unrelenting persistence. The recollection sent chills down his spine each time he accessed the memories, something Sam had been continually combating ever since he arrived at his newest place of residence. Even if he couldn't see the surroundings; the noises and smells brought forth the memories and kept them at the forefront of his thoughts.
There was a loud, fluid filled snork from the snoring mass off to Sam's left and it quickly brought his attention back to the present. Suddenly, as if someone had slapped him in the face, he realized the smell radiating off this person, wasn't that of his brother. It was similar, but unmistakably different. There was a musty quality to it and a distinct hint of something else, what he couldn't quite place.
Sam prayed when he opened his eyes he'd see something; light or shapes or anything other than the darkness he'd grown so accustomed to over the last few hours. Anything just so he could identify who was in the room with him. He took a slow breath and opened his lids. The disappointment radiated throughout his body like an electric shock as he realized his situation was unchanged.
Sam's body visibly tensed. Who was this person? He mentally cursed his useless eyes. Where was his brother? He could only sense, feel, hear, smell, whatever, one person in the room and he was sure, now, it wasn't Dean. Was it a demon laying in wait for its opportunity to torture him while he was conscious to feel the pain? Was it…Sam froze momentarily as the person, thing, roused.
There was a guttural growl as what Sam assumed was a chair, creaked underneath its occupants uneven weight. Sam was desperate for something, anything to protect himself with, but was quickly assured he was nothing more than a sitting duck. Exposed and helpless to what ever had just woken up.
"Sam good to see ya awake kid. Dean thought you were gonna sleep all dam day." A gruff, gravely voice announced shattering the mystery.
A smile immediately filled Sam's relaxing features. The smell, the one he couldn't pin point just then, was oil, sulfur, and gun powder. An odd mixture for anybody not in his line of work, but for him, a familiar and comforting aroma.
"Bobby." Sam expressed, relief clear as the vibrant sapphire sky outside. "Where's Dean? What time is it?"
Bobby cleared his raspy throat. He glanced down at his wrist and located the watch resting securely on the crick of his arm. "Ten Thirty four. And your bro…" Sam cut him off.
"Thought you weren't gonna be here until after mid-night Bobby? How'd you get here so dam fast, what'd ya do fly?" Sam didn't mean fly in the literal since, of course, but still that would have made more since to him then the confusion currently running through his brain.
Bobby chuckled quietly to himself. It was easy to see Sam's puzzlement in his creased brow and wrinkled forehead. The kid's face was so dam expressive. His facial features like an open book to anybody who knew how to read it.
"It's ten thirty in the morning Sam, I got here around one last night. Took quite a bit of convincing but I finally got your brother to go see Jake and check on the Impala. Besides, Bobby shrugged, you needed something to wear once you were released so I told him he should go get your bag. Tried to remind him you only had a blood stained shirt and jeans. Didn't think the hospital gown they gave ya would work, even if it is hot as hell outside."
Sam shook his head trying to process what he'd just been told, absentmindedly touching his current outfit. It was morning? Bobby had been here for hours? Dean had left?
Bobby sensed Sam's inner dilemma and continued. "I had to push your dam idiot brother out the door. Kid thinks you'll fall apart with out him nipping at your heels. Although, considering how the two of you are when your separated, I can see his point. When I got here you were dead to the world. Your brother Dean was barely conscious in this dam lounge chair determined to not nod off. And your doctor had just removed your IV since you finished the last of the meds."
He had, Sam thought subconsciously. He touched his arm expecting to find the IV but found only a small bandage in it's place.
"I guess your brother, sneaky son of a bitch, convinced them to slip ya something in the IV after dinner so you'd get some sleep. He was afraid you'd try to stay awake for him. Doc thought it was a good idea and had one of the nurses slip you a mickie."
Sam shook his head half in disgust, half in complacency. Yep that was his big brother, always the deviant. Dean's way or the highway using the "I'm older" card as a defense. If he couldn't get Sam to comply by asking, he'd do what he had to, to insure his safety whether Sam liked it or not. Dick. He quietly thought, his mind a carnival of disdain and admiration for his manipulative older brother.
"So how long's my big pain in the ass brother been gone anyway?"
Bobby let out a strangled chuckle. "Oh bout ten minutes I'd guess. I practically had to pry his hands off the dammed door frame. You two boys are the stubbornness pains in my ass I've ever come across. Worse then two year olds or Mule demons. Bunch of igits." He finished under his breath.
That caused a chuckle to escape Sam's lips. Mule demons were close to tricksters in their arrogance and disregard for authority, but what made them worse was that no matter what you did, or tried to do to them, they wouldn't budge. It was their way or the highway just like their namesake, the mule.
"So Dean's probably going to be gone for a while, then, huh?"
Bobby nodded then spoke. "I suppose so."
"Have you gotten any sleep Bobby, cause really, I won't break if I'm left alone, I promise."
"I will when your brother comes back. Promised him I'd stay with ya while he was gone."
Sam rolled his eyes. Typical. Just typical. Had everybody forgotten he was 26 years old and able to look after himself. "Well geeze Bobby at least go get something to eat. You don't have to sit here staring at the blind guy the whole time. I can hear your stomach growling from here, so don't lie to me and tell me you've already eaten."
"Blind or not Sam Winchestor your intuitive, I'll give you that. Even more so then your brother or your daddy. Ok. I'll wait until your doc comes in to check on you and then I'll head down to the cafeteria and grab something." Bobby adjusted his dirty hat. It was kind of disconcerting to see Sam's eyes looking at him and know he couldn't actually see out of them. Heartbreaking as well, as Bobby knew just what it must be doing to the kid.
"You want anything? Something to drink at least?"
"Nah I'm sure they'll bring me something if I need it."
"Ok."
"Hey Bobby, thanks, by the way."
"For what, Sam?"
"For giving us actual insurance for once. Putting us on your policy. It's kind'a nice to know I don't have to hightail it out of here because the insurance card's flagged. And, uh, thanks for coming. It means a lot." Sam displayed a strained, tired smile across his thin, dry lips. His face showing the turning tides of purplish bruising. "Especially since dad's, you know, gone and all."
"You boy's are the only family I have. I'm there for ya when ever you need me, just like you two are for me. I know you appreciate it, you don't have to thank me, it's implied. On another note, Sam, how are you doing with all this?" Bobby decided he'd bite the bullet and ask the question he'd been holding onto. "Hanging in there?"
Sam's face blanched and he grimaced. "To tell you the truth, not really. I don't want to freak Dean out, you know, but I was kind of banking on my vision being back when I woke up. The fact that it's not, is pretty scary. Way worse then any demon or ghost that's for sure."
"Yeah I bet. But just remember we got options others in your position don't have. You know your brother won't stop looking until he finds something to fix this."
"I know, Bobby, thanks." Sam's smile was weak, drawn. He tried to be convincing but you could see right through it.
A knock on the door caused both men to shift towards the sound. "It's Dr. Miller Sam. Just wanted to give you a once over before I sign your release papers. Plus I'd like to get you down for one more MRI just to confirm what we already expect."
"Which is?" Bobby inquired, his eyebrow lifted in question.
Dr. Miller displayed a genuine smile. "That the swellings gone down even more then what the scans showed last night. I'm pretty confident Sam's cranial pressure is back to normal."
Dr. Miller shifted his gaze from Sam to the older man perched in the lounge chair. His clothes soiled and crumpled as they covered him. The man looked exhausted, stressed, and drained of poise or pleasantries.
"I'm Sam's neurologist, by the way. You must be the uncle Dean was telling me about yesterday."
Bobby stood and took the outstretched hand offered by the physician. "I am. Names Bobby Singer. So Sam's brain should be back to normal now?" A hint of worry in his cautious words. Sam seemed to show the same level of concern.
"The swelling should be gone by now, yes. But the damage to Sam's optic nerve, as I explained yesterday, could be permanent or it could take a while to resolve. There's no quick fix with this one I'm afraid." The doctor released a sympathetic breath. "It all depends on time and resulting damage at this point, could be a few months before we have a definitive answer." The man paused, as he wanted the information to absorb. "Every case of Cortical Blindness is unique to the person afflicted by it. The guidelines and recovery time are exclusive to the individual. No set protocols past what we've already recommended and discussed. The brain is a very interesting organ that we are only now truly beginning to understand."
With that the doctor walked closer to Sam. "I'm going to examine you now Sam. Do you still have a headache?"
A cold hand pressed against Sam's forehead causing him to cringe and squint his useless eyes. "Yeah. Not as bad as when I first came in, but definitely still there."
The Doctor took out his pen light. His hot breath showering Sam's face with moist intensity. Sam was glad the man's breath was under control or he might have had a slight panic attack.
"I'll send you home with some painkillers so you can keep the pounding to a minimum. Unfortunately, you're probably going to have the headaches for a while. A nice souvenir of the shock your brain took. Ok, Sam, I'm going to shine a light in your eyes. You tell me if you see anything, got it?"
"Yeah." Sam replied.
It was several minutes of his eye's being preyed open and manipulated. Dr. Miller asking him to look left, right, up, down and forward before he was satisfied and the examination was concluded. Through it all, the only thing that Sam got out of the exercise was a increasing headache. A small fire igniting into a raging inferno in the recesses of his brain. Attacking his already abused receptors and sore neurons.
"Well nothing yet Sam." The neurologist commented patting his shoulder. "But don't let that discourage you. It might just take time. Until then, though, I'd like you to speak to somebody. I would have mentioned her yesterday, but I thought she was on vacation and considering your brother said you guys would be heading back to South Dakota once your car got fixed, I thought it a moot point. But, he took a long breath, one of the nurse's informed me she was available so I called her in."
He noticed both Sam and Bobby's perplexed expressions. "Her name is Vicky Sunders. She's the resident mobility instructor for this region. She'll give you a few pointers to get you started and she also said she has some info on rehab facilities in South Dakota. It's a good start to help you around and help you adjust. She's been doing this kind of thing for 20 years and is, in my opinion, the best in the business."
"So what exactly is a mobility instructor?" Bobby asked, having an idea but wanting clarification for himself and the petrified young man sitting in the bed next to him.
"A mobility instructor takes visually impaired people, like Sam here, and teaches them how to function in a sighted environment. They offer pointers on everyday activities and how to do things like order in a restaurant, deal with the public, or work on a computer." The doctor saw Sam's increasingly darkening glare. "I know it's not what you wanted to be doing right now, Sam, but it's something your going to need to face whether your condition is permanent or not. You're going to need the basics to get by, regardless, until things change."
Sam took a deep breath trying to calm his mounting nerves. Meeting with this Vicky person would make the whole thing real. That was something Sam really really didn't want to have to face. Not now, not ever.
"I asked Vicky to wait until after I'd spoken to you in case you had any objections. As long as you are willing I'll send her in. She's right outside in the hallway and very eager to meet you. She even cut her vacation short. I'll give you about an hour with her and then we'll take you down to radiology for the scans. You should be paroled by three at the latest."
The doctor gave a warm comforting smile even though he knew it was lost on his patient. He felt the attitude and demeanor of a persons physician was very important in patient care. No matter if they were aware of it or not, he knew it made a difference.
Sam cleared his throat. The words he was trying to use wouldn't leave his lips. Stuck in the back of his mouth like a ball of dry cotton. "Ah, um…O-ok."
"Great!" Dr. Miller exclaimed. "I'll go get her. Don't worry Sam she's very easy to be around, she'll put you at ease in an instant." Sam couldn't help but wonder if the good doctor had a little crush on this Vicky person. The way he accentuated her attributes so admirably, wasn't even remotly lost on the blind hunter.
Sam gave a less then convincing smile as he heard the hard shoes of the doctor leaving his room. This was so not going to be a day he would remember fondly. Not only did he have to re-learn things he should have no problem with, but he was also going to be released from a hospital he'd never seen, discharged by a doctor he only knew through sound, and released into a world once familiar, but now dark and foreboding. He would have to face the fact that he could no longer see his surroundings or have the advantage of sight when trying to do the simplest of things. Yep, today was gonna thoroughly blow.
"You look like your trying to solve the why are we here problem all by your self in that large head of yours Sam. Wanna tell me how you really feel about this women?" Bobby's voice was soft but cut through Sam like a dagger.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know, Bobby, like I'm twelve years old again begging my dad to go to the movies with out my big brother. Learning how to get around? Order in a restaurant? Use a fricken computer? This is all stuff I mastered a long, long time ago. I feel like a dam helpless kid again. It's just…Sam took a second to think of the right words. It's fucked up, just fucked up."
Bobby nodded. "I can only imagine, Sam, but don't forget what we were talking about earlier, you have options. Options that others don't. There's still a lot that can be done regarding this blindness of yours. So until we figure it out this lady and her training can't do anything but help."
"I couldn't agree more." A light, smooth voice replied from the forgotten doorway. "Training is not the enemy it's just another weapon to fight the war. You two must be Sam and Bobby Singer. Dr. Miller told me that a very protective big brother by the name of Dean should be coming along shortly as well. I have a bit of training for everybody, but if it's ok with you, Sam, I'd like us to start first."
Bobby took this opportunity to stand and go for that coffee Sam had suggested he get earlier.
"Well Sam, I'm gonna head down to the cafeteria and get some rotgut hospital coffee to keep me from falling over. I'll be back in a little while."
Sam gave his "uncle" a dirty, you bastard don't abandon me and leave me with this women, look. Bobby just snickered at the response and took his exit before Sam could protest. He gave the athletically built, well proportioned women with deep brown eyes and long dark hair a respectful smile. Tipping his hat, bobby quickly nodded and fled the now electrically charged room. It didn't take sight to realize Sam was left to this pictureless stranger, his mobility teacher, and the task at hand with no backup at all.
Vicky chuckled softly. "Some peoples children, huh, Sam." She offered, her squeaky tennis shoes revealing she was moving closer to her charge.
Sam smiled, but didn't appear at all relaxed or at ease. A look Vicky was more than familiar with. A smooth hand reached out and took Sam's, a tight but gentle grip guiding a handshake.
"I'm Vicky Sunders. I'm the regional mobility instructor for this county. I'll give you some fly by the seat of your pants pointers and a few suggestions to help you out until you can get into a rehab facility and find a local instructor in South Dakota."
Noticing Sam's unease she offered an icebreaker. "I'm not going to bite, Sam. I know this is a lot to take in and a lot to absorb in such a short amount of time, but hopefully I can help you out a little and give you a few tools to get you by. We'll do nothing more then what you are capable of, but I'm going to push you in the time we have together. I am very down to earth girl, but not naive, so you should know that right off the bat."
Sam nodded silently. This was just too much for him. Here, standing in front of him, was a lady that he would never see, talking to him about stuff he didn't even want to discuss with Dean, let alone a total stranger. A small spike of rage flooded his body. How dare she intrude on him and his personal space like this? How dare she profess knowledge of what he was going through? How dare she…
"Sam, should we get started?" The velvet voice asked interrupting his thoughts of malice.
Sam bite his lip. Better just get this over with he concluded. Then I can get the MRI and get the hell out of this place.
"I guess." Sam tried another smile, but between his sudden anger and large, complacent sigh, he was less then enthusiastic or convincing.
"Well don't give me all your excitement all at once there, Sam. Save some for later, ok." Vicky teased, patting Sam's tense, but incredibly muscular shoulder. They grow them big in South Dakota she thought taking in the sight of her newest student.
Shaking his head, Sam made an effort to look her in the face, or better yet, where he thought her face was. Dam dead eyes.
"I'm sorry I'm just a little edgy today. I have a headache and I just want to get the hell out of here and head home." Wherever home really was, Sam added to himself.
Vicky pursed her lips. "Very understandable." She turned and grabbed something out of the bag she'd laid on the near by chair. "I brought you something to help you get around. Here!" Something metallic and folded was thrust into Sam's unsuspecting hands.
Sam fumbled slightly with the intrusion before getting his bearings enough to examine what he had been given. It was cool to the touch, with three segmented smooth portions bundled together with some kind of strap. Each segment was connected to the other with a smooth elastic band. The ends, however, were different. One had a round knob of some kind, plastic he thought, and the other was a slightly textured object of some sort, wrapped in what he could only imagine was leather or pleather as it was. It had to be a handle, Sam thought, his brain still trying to identify what was in his hands without the advantage of sight. Sam's blood froze as realization dawned. He felt all the wind leave his body and go someplace he wished he could follow.
"Do you know what that is?" Vicky asked.
Sam rolled his lifeless eyes and answered. "Yeah, it's…" A pause and a breath to steady his mounting nerves. His heart clenching tightly against his failing ribcage. "It's a cane, for the…bli…another swallow…blind."
"Yes it is, very good. It will become your new best friend over the next few weeks. Since you can't see where things are, this neat little invention will find them for you." Vicky smiled at Sam's obvious green pallor.
"It's not the end of the world Sam, I promise, it's just a different step. Now speaking of stepping how about we take your new toy out for a test drive and ware it in a little. That's pretty much all we're going to have time for, but it'll be a good start and help you out on the trip home. Aaanndd, Vicky drawled, if you do well and catch on quick, like I think you will, I'll try and sneak a couple other things in too. Are you ready to get this party started?"
Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. Momentarily mute. I can't fucking do this, Sam thought. I can't go out there with a cane. Exactly what he envisioned when talking to Dean last night played in his head like a bad movie. There'd be no way to hide the fact that he was blind if he used that thing, no way to stay in the shadows and avoid speculation. No! He thought. I don't want to do this, I don't want to walk around with this invisible lady learning how to make it down a hospital corridor on my own. That's just ridiculous. 26 year olds didn't need people to show them how to get from point A to point B. When did his life get so dam messed up?
Vicky put her hand on his shoulder to ground him and give him some since of where she was at. She could feel the slight tremble under her small fingertips and hadn't missed the fact that Sam's already green complexion had turned a new shade when she mentioned going outside. It also didn't escape her attention that Sam's large hands where gripping the cane so hard his knuckles were turning white from lack of blood supply. Or that he was switching the offending object from palm to palm like it was on fire.
"Words usually work better if you say them out loud, Sam."
Sam swallowed the lump of saliva that had cultivated at the back of his tightening esophagus. "I don't think I can do this, you know, right now. Maybe later. I have a headache."
"Sam this is the only time we have and excuses don't work on me. Now come on. Whether you like it or not you have to do this and the sooner the better. Besides it's not as bad as you think. Your not the first person I've trained. Certainly not the youngest. The faster you realize this is your reality for now, the faster you'll heal. Now come on. Get up and lets get started. Vicky looked down at her watch perched on her creamy wrist. "Now we're down to 50 minutes."
With a forceful shove Sam was brought to his feet, and before he knew it, he was being hustled out the doorway. For a tiny little women she sure had a lot of power. Maybe she was possessed, Sam thought, the image giving him a small chuckle.
**********************************************************************
Dean couldn't believe how long it had taken him to speak to Jake and get the Impala. He'd only intended on being there for, at most, ten minutes, but the guy was long winded and Dean did appreciate the fact that he'd worked all night on his car, so he didn't want to rush the conversation. The impala was perfect too, Jake was truly a master. Couldn't even tell the poor girl had been hurt at all. He just hoped that, that would be the case for his brother as well. He knew Sam had to be awake by now and pissed he was gone. Drugged or not his brother wouldn't sleep this long.
Bobby had forced him out the door with threat of bodily harm. He'd intended on staying until Sam woke up, at least, but the old coot wouldn't hear of it. Their earlier conversation flooded Dean's mind.
"You need to get your ass over there and take care of business, Dean." Bobby had said gruffly. "Do you think for one second I'd leave your brother alone at a time like this? He'll be fine with out you for an hour. Hell, he might not even wake up while your gone. Kid's had a pretty rough 24 hours. Could sleep all dam day for all you know. And you, Bobby pointed at him. You look like shit. You need to get out of this place and take a breather before you start in on Sam." At Dean's beginning protest's Bobby stuck a finger in his chest. "And don't say you wouldn't because we both know when your upset, Sam's your first target. Especially when he's sick. So just don't! Give yourself a little time to decompress and process what's happened. And, Dean, you gotta get Sam some clothes. The kid can't walk out of here in a hospital gown. Thing only goes to his waist for God's sake. I think he might object to that."
"He's got the clothes he came here with, Bobby, I just want to wait until he's awake. I want him to know I'm here incase…" Dean stopped. He didn't want to utter the words, didn't want to push them out of his mouth and make them real, permanently giving them form and wait.
"Yeah Dean?" Bobby asked his eyebrow raised in question. Dean needed to say it whether he wanted to or not.
"Incase Sam still can't see, ok, Bobby. Incase he wakes up and he's still blind." Dean's face blanched as he uttered the last word. He looked like he was trying to cough up a bolder. "I just want to be here, incase." Bobby stood up and moved towards Dean who took an automatic step backwards.
"Your brother can't ware bloody clothes, Dean. You igits don't even have a motel room and we're planning on leaving for my house as soon as Sam's released. Now take my dam car and get your crap. If the car's ready then pick it up and bring it back here. You can drop me off after Sam's outta here to get mine. Now dam it, Dean, go!" Bobby, who had yet to remove the finger he kept poking into Dean's chest, gave one finale shove, forcing Dean backwards towards the open doorway.
Dean, usually filled to the brim with cocky comebacks, stood in stunned silence. He was so exhausted from the last few hours of test's, diagnosis', and doctors that he just didn't have the gumption to fight back and obediently took the keys thrust into his callused palm. He snuck a glance at this brother then put his hands up in a surrendering motion as Bobby started to block his view. Sam was fast asleep. His mouth slightly opened pushing hot air into his so called pillow. The light cream hospital sheets washing away all the color from his brothers almond complexion.
It was so unreal that Sam couldn't see. He looked fine. Normal. Almost peaceful. And as much as Dean wanted to stay, as much as he felt he should, that Sam was his responsibility, the out Bobby was offering was an inviting distraction. Dean knew if he really wanted to fight, Bobby would give in, but he realized quietly that he needed to get away and get his head straight before dealing with his brother's situation. Before reality set in for the both of them. If Sam still couldn't see, the first and the last place, Dean wanted to be was with him when he realized it. He would have given anything to save Sam from this kind of pain, but he knew, at least right now, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Ok Bobby, I'll go, but tell Sam I'll be back in no more then half an hour and I have my cell." Dean's eye's narrowed. "Got it old man."
Bobby sneered at the age related comment and pushed Dean the rest of the way out the door.
"See ya in an hour Dean, don't hurry back, we'll be fine."
To Dean, the morning's events seemed like eons ago; all a blur of minutes ticking away as his sleep deprived eyes ached for a soft pillow and an inviting mattress. His tired legs dragged his weary body towards Sam's room with staggered grace. Every twitch and prang of pain from their last hunt coming back to haunt him and reek havoc on his decision to avoid real sleep in a motel the night before.
Dean half expected to see Sam sitting at the edge of his bed, a sour grimace on his face the direct result of Dean abandoning him, anxiously awaiting the approval to leave. Bobby trying to coax his little brother back into bed until the doctors gave the all clear. What He found, however, was not at all what he imagined.
The single bed hospital room was empty. It was clear that both Sam and Bobby hadn't jumped ship as their stuff still decorated the interior, but there was no Sam and there no Bobby. Panic flashed through Dean's tensed muscles. Did something happen? Did they have to get out in a hurry? Were they attacked? He nervously pulled his sleeping cell phone from his jeans pocket and stared at the vacant screen. Nobody called. What the fuck was going on?
Taking a deep breath, Dean gripped his brother's duffle bag and turned in the direction of the nurses station. He was going to get an answer from someone and if they wouldn't give him what he wanted, he was going to raise hell.
Before he could open his mouth, Dean heard his brothers voice resonating from around the corner. He gave his best charming smile to the nurse that had just looked up from her computer screen and turned towards the familiar melody, relief flooding his body. At his approach what he saw made his stomach tangle into tiny, jagged knots.
Sam was gracelessly walking alongside a slender, athletically built women in her mid thirties or very early forties. His brother's gargantuan physique towering over her like the empire state building to a travel trailer. The women's sleek black mane brushing subtly along Sam's dingy hospital robe as they moved down the hallway. The younger hunter was sweeping a long white cane out in front of him, with the women's delicate hand clasp around his elbow. For the first time in a very, very long time, Dean, recognized the look of helpless uncertainty in his younger siblings expressive eyes. You could tell he was concentrating on walking while also trying to listen to the women's soft voice and keep from falling on his ass. The scene made Dean's heart drop to his toes and left him with a terribly bitter taste of bile in the back of his mouth.
This was it, no matter what happened from this moment on, if Dean was able to find a solution for Sam's handicap or his brother healed naturally, he would never be able to remove the image of his blind brother searching an open hospital hallway with that long white stick. The light extinguished from his vibrant hazel eyes by a senseless accident. The picture was forever burned into to the recesses of his hollowing retinas like the shadow of something desecrated by the flash burn of nuclear war.
Sam was handicapped. Blind. Helpless against the constant threats and predicaments brought forward by their rather unusual and unconventional lifestyles. The words stuck in the back of Deans throat like undercooked noodles. His brother was blind. Helpless against the everyday threats they and those like them faced on a daily basis. Their lives had just got a lot more complicated and considering who they were that was saying a lot.
A/N: Ok, I know that I said I was going to put the hint of what supernatural venue I was going down in this chapter, however, I didn't feel it should be brought up at this point in the story and I didn't want to make everybody wait EVEN longer for a chapter I'd hoped to have out over a week ago. **I did put Bobby in though!**
I hope that you are all still with me and are still enjoying this story. I am really enjoying writing it and, as always, I appreciate the reviews and suggestions. I'd love to see the review number go up on this story and get more emails that it has been added as a favorites or alerts. I don't know how long this story is going to end up being, but I know, at this point, it's far from over. Please stick with me and I'll really, really try to get another chapter out sooner then this one was posted. I hope the length of this will make up for my misgivings. J
**To all the reviewers, Thank You and sorry for not replying. I live for them and love them but I'm having some troubles with my system, so thank you again. I want to reply but that is proving mildly difficult. All I can say in my defense is that I'm new to all this. Dam new people, huh?**