Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading, reviewing, and sticking with this story. This chapter is a bit long compared to other chapters. I could have split it in two, but I promised action in this chapter. Enjoy!
Dean spent another restless night in the chair next to Sam's bed, and Bobby – after an even longer argument than the previous night – spent another night in the hotel room. Sam was spending an incredible amount of time sleeping, and though Dean knew his body was just recovering from the trauma, he still worried. Sam's vision hadn't improved over the past 24 hours, but Sam had a test scheduled for later that day, and Dean was anxious to know if Sam's eyes would ever be the same.
Other than for bathroom breaks, Dean had only left Sam's side once – to get a chicken sandwich at the cafe on the first floor – and his stomach was protesting loudly from the lack of food. He wanted to get something to eat, but he wasn't comfortable leaving Sam. He considered calling Bobby, but it seemed stupid to make the man drive over to the hospital just to sit with Sam for a few minutes while Dean scarfed down a meal. He sighed and shot his sleeping brother an impatient glance, which he immediately scolded himself for. It wasn't Sam's fault they were here. Dean's restlessness was just getting the better of him. He stood to stretch his muscles and winced when his body protested the movement.
"You know I give a hell of a massage."
Dean spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. When he saw the familiar blonde nurse standing in the doorway he relaxed and couldn't resist mirroring her smile.
"What a coincidence." Dean said with a smirk. "I happen to be excellent at receiving massages." He folded his arms across his chest and almost rolled his eyes at his own lame line.
Julia snorted and brushed past Dean to attend to Sam. "I think it's sweet that you're staying here with him." She said as she gently pushed a bit of loose hair away from Sam's eyes.
"He's my brother." Dean said simply, as if that fully explained any questions or concerns that Julia might have.
"Yeah." Julia wrote down some numbers from the monitors near Sam's bed and switched out the old IV bag with a fresh one. She turned and narrowed her eyes at Dean, as if she were studying him. "You know, you should get something to eat."
"Our uncle is going to be here later. I'll go then." Dean replied, remembering that he had told Kendall that Bobby was their uncle.
She folded her arms, imitating Dean's pose. "I can stay with Sam for a bit."
Dean couldn't help it, but he was instantly suspicious. Why did she want him to leave? Did she want to get Sam alone so she could hurt him? No, Julia was just trying to be nice. Dean studied the young nurse for a moment. Her smile was so genuine, it was hard to believe that she could hurt anyone. But that's how the good ones get you – they build your trust and then cut your legs out from under you when you least expect it.
The internal debate continued on for a few seconds longer, and Julia eventually cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.
"Dean." She said with a snap of her fingers. "I think you should get some food. I'll stay here until you get back. Everything will be fine."
Dean nervously ran a hand through his hair – and god, he needed a shower too. Julia was looking at him expectantly, and his stomach growled loudly – casting it's vote to take Julia's offer and get some food. "He'll be okay." Dean said, mostly to reassure himself.
"Of course he will be." Julia looked a bit confused, but offered Dean an encouraging smile. "He probably wont even wake up."
Dean bit his lip and nodded. "Okay. I'll be right back."
Dean possibly set a new record for ordering and eating a meal, and when he rushed back into the room, Julia was sitting in what Dean had dubbed 'his chair' and humming happily, and Sam was still asleep. Dean exhaled audibly and Julia looked up at the noise.
"That was fast." She looked between Dean and Sam and looked like she wanted to say more, but decided against it. Instead she hopped up out of the chair and walked past Dean to the door, pausing in the doorway to turn and face the room. "You know, that chair really isn't very comfortable. How about I get you that bed." It wasn't a question, and Dean didn't answer. Julia turned and left the room.
In the afternoon, Julia came back to check on Sam and wake him up for his eye tests. She introduced herself to Sam – since he had been asleep every other time she had been in the room – and then carefully escorted him into a wheelchair with a little help from Dean. Sam bit his lip and held an arm over his broken ribs as he positioned himself in the chair, and Dean put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and pushed him out of the room. They followed Julia down the hall to an elevator, which they took up to the fourth floor, and finally stopped in front of a room labeled 'optometry'. In the center of the room was a chair surrounded by strange machines with dials and magnifying glass. Dean and Julia slowly helped Sam into the chair, and then Julia left them alone in the room with the promise that the doctor would be right in.
Dean watched his brother as he looked around the room and tried to focus on the objects surrounding him. Sam squinted in an attempt to see better, and Dean wondered suddenly what Sam was seeing. Shadows and shapes, he had described it as. Like a poorly lit room, too dark to make out any details. He took a seat in the chair adjacent to Sam's and tapped his thumbs impatiently against the cushioned arm rests.
"So your nurse, Julia." Dean said conversationally, and Sam turned his head toward him. "She's nice."
Sam wrinkled his face into a quizzical expression and frowned. "Sure. She seems nice."
Dean nodded and looked to his lap. Why was this weird? It was Sam. He tried again. "Sam, everything's gonna be okay... okay?"
Sam's expression softened and he also looked to his lap. "Yeah. Okay." He said softly, but his tone wasn't convincing anyone.
Dean was about to say more when the doctor knocked and a few seconds later entered the room. He was a thin Korean man with a pointy nose and a receding hair line. He ignored Dean and walked directly to Sam, taking a seat in the wheeled office chair and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fingertips, palms pressed together.
"Hello Sam, I'm Dr. Pahn." He said, and Dean heard no trace of an accent in his words. "I understand you're having some trouble with your vision. Let's take a look."
The optometrist pulled out a small flashlight and shined it in Sam's eyes, then gave him some eye drops meant to dilate his pupils. He looked at Sam's eyes through his machines and continuously changed the magnification levels. He made soft 'hmm' and 'uh huh' sounds, and Dean started to play with his bracelet nervously. The more time that passed, the more Dean was sure Sam's condition was going to be irreversible, and by the time Pahn finally straightened and pushed the machine out of Sam's face, Dean was about ready to shoot someone.
"Well, Sam." Pahn started, and Dean held his breath. "As I'm sure you know, your condition is being caused by the sodium hydroxide you ingested. You see, sometimes poisons can damage the optic nerve, causing sometimes permanent damage –"
Dean seriously wished he had his gun. He figured that this must be what TV show contestants feel like in finales when they just want to know who won the prize and the host drags it out. He forced himself to listen to what Pahn was saying.
"– call this optic atrophy. The main symptom is loss of vision. Sometimes colors may be washed out, or sometimes vision may appear blurry. In your case, signals to the retina are being blocked, causing your vision to be dark and lacking detail. Fortunately, I'm confident that your vision will improve with time, and eventually return to normal."
Dean and Sam both let out the breaths they were holding, and the doctor stood.
"In the mean time, I suggest protecting your eyes from bright light. Wear sunglasses outdoors. You're eyes will not know when they are getting too much light, and it could end up damaging them further." He brushed his palms on his pants and held out a hand for Sam to shake. It took Sam a minute to realize the doctor wanted a handshake, but he eventually offered his own hand in return.
"Thanks." He said, and Pahn nodded. He turned to Dean and nodded once more before leaving the room.
"See, man? I told you everything would be okay." Dean couldn't help the relief and excitement that overpowered him when Pahn announced that Sam's eyes would go back to normal, and by the looks of it, Sam was feeling pretty good about the news as well. He grinned at Dean, and even chatted with Julia as they helped him back into the wheelchair and brought him back to the room.
Three weeks passed slowly. On the third night, Julia had delivered on her promise and smuggled an extra bed into Sam's room for Dean to sleep in. She showed up early every morning to check Sam's vitals and write in his chart, and every morning when she came in the room Dean would wake up and flirt shamelessly with the young nurse. She started bringing Dean coffee, and Dean thanked her with crooked grins, witty jokes and classic Dean Winchester charm. Sam didn't sleep as much. Sometimes Dean would turn on the TV, despite the fact that Sam couldn't see the picture – he didn't seem to mind just listening. In the afternoons when it was nice out, Dean would load his brother into a wheelchair and bring him outside where they would walk through the garden or just sit on the patio. Of course Dean always made sure Sam wore his sunglasses outside, even when it was cloudy.
Sam's vision was improving – incredibly slow, but improving nonetheless. Pahn said that he was still considered legally blind, but Sam told Dean how things seemed a bit more detailed and colorful every day. On the tenth day, Sam started physical therapy with Dr. Kendall. It was slow moving – Sam still had broken bones – but he seemed to look forward to the sessions, and Dean knew that every little step was progress. Every day, Julia would come in the late morning to escort Sam to his physical therapy sessions. Dean came along the first few times, but quickly realized that it was the only time Sam got away from him, and after a couple days he let Sam go alone. He took advantage of the hour – sometimes he ran down the block to Bobby's hotel and showered, sometimes he grabbed a bite to eat at the cafeteria, and sometimes he just took the Impala out for a drive around the town.
Bobby visited every day. He would always offer to stay with Sam and give Dean a night off, and Dean always refused. This wasn't a job. He wasn't saving up vacation hours and waiting for his nights off. Sam was his brother, and this was just the way things were now – for both of them. Though, sometimes Dean did leave Sam with Bobby, just for an hour, to go sit with Julia on her break. He had grown quite attached to the quirky blonde nurse, and though he flirted with her shamelessly, he thought of her more as a younger sister than someone he wanted a relationship with.
Of course, despite the positive outlook on everything, Sam and Dean both grew restless and impatient at times, and the topic of their father's last words came up often. It was never sorted out properly though, and usually ended with Sam clamming up refusing to talk until he eventually fell asleep, or Dean stomping off down the hall to get a cup of coffee and just sit away from Sam for a while. Each time they had the argument, Dean realized more and more that this needed to be sorted out calmly and thoroughly, without one of them opting out as soon as things got heated.
It was a rainy Tuesday when the conversation finally happened. Sam had made some snide remark and it had set things off. After a few minutes of pointless arguing that got them nowhere, Dean took a deep breath and instead of leaving for a cup of coffee, he sat down in the chair and rested his hand on the bed next to Sam's.
"Listen, Sammy." Dean said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I know I should have told you what Dad said, but I was trying to protect you."
Sam started to protest and Dean made a sharp noise to stop him.
"You have to know, Sam, that I would never –ever – do anything to hurt you. Dad didn't know what was going to happen any more than we do. Maybe he had some leads that we don't know about, but the only reason he said that was because he didn't know. You know how Dad was. Revenge and the hunt came before everything – before us – before family." Dean paused for a moment and was happy when Sam didn't immediately start arguing. "But that doesn't mean he should have said what he said. He had no right, Sam. No right. You don't put that on your kids. Sammy, it doesn't matter what he said, because there's no way in hell I'm listening to him, and you shouldn't either."
Sam was quiet for a long moment, staring intently at the wall. Finally, he looked at Dean. "I don't need you to protect me." He said with a frown.
"I know. You can more than handle things yourself, but regardless, your my brother and... you know, I..." Dean fumbled over the words. They didn't usually show this kind of emotion, and Dean wasn't exactly comfortable with it.
"Yeah." Sam said, saving Dean from having to finish the sentence. "Me too."
The unspoken words said more than either of them could ever say out loud, and the words didn't need to be said for either of them to understand what the other was trying to say. They were brothers, and they always looked out for each other.
Julia came in to bring Sam to physical therapy before things got too post-chick-flick-moment awkward, and they both smiled at her when she entered the room.
"Hey Jules." Dean said affectionately, and Julia smiled at the nickname.
"Boys." She greeted them, and pushed the wheelchair to the edge of Sam's bed. At this point, Sam could walk if he wanted to, but not for long periods of time, and Julia didn't see the point in walking Sam to physical therapy where he would just be exerting himself even more. Dean immediately jumped up to help Sam into the chair. It had all become so routine, Dean almost didn't remember what life was like before Sam was hurt. While Sam was gone, Dean showered and grabbed a bite to eat.
After that, things were better between them. They talked more openly, though neither of them had much to talk about – being holed up in a hospital for the past three weeks. Still, it was nice to know there was no lingering animosity between them. Kendall was confident that Sam would be able to go home after two more weeks, and they were just waiting it out. Sam was still sore, but pain killers would help with that. He had limited energy, couldn't walk for long periods of time, and slept more than a normal, healthy person would. Bobby offered to let them stay with him for as long as it took Sam to recover fully, and Dean agreed. At Bobby's, Sam could rest as much as he needed and Dean could do physical therapy with him daily. Sam was up to eating soft foods. Apple sauce, yogurt, ice cream, and even cereal – if Dean let it sit in the milk long enough to make it soggy. Dean had been watching Julia carefully, keeping track in his mind of the things he would need to help Sam with once they were out of there.
On Thursday, an unfamiliar nurse came into Sam's room in time to bring him to physical therapy. Dean tensed and lowered his eyes suspiciously, but Sam smiled.
"Who are you?" Dean asked, trying to sound polite, but knowing that he failed.
The nurse looked surprised and almost sad at Dean's rudeness. "I'm Chelsea." She said shyly. She looked at Sam's charts for his name. "Mr. Page's regular nurse called in sick today. I'm filling in."
Dean eyed her and she squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.
"Knock it off, Dean." Sam said, already starting to push himself to the edge of the bed and into the wheelchair. "It's fine." He smiled warmly at the new nurse. "Don't mind him. I'm Sam."
Chelsea relaxed and smiled back. "I'm just here to bring you to physical therapy." She explained, and Sam nodded.
"Maybe I should come with today." Dean suggested, and watched Chelsea for any sign of suspicious activity. She just smiled and waited for Sam's answer.
"It's fine, Dean." Sam said, sounding annoyed. "I got it."
Dean huffed and folded his arms, but sat back down in the chair to let Sam leave. "Fine, but when you get back we're watching Overhaulin' on TV."
Sam rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air dismissively. "Yeah, fine." He said, and Dean watched the nurse wheel him out the door.
Bobby showed up while Sam was away, and Dean noticed the older hunter was tense and looked upset. "What's got you all worked up?" He asked. Bobby fidgeted and Dean knew whatever it was, it was bad. "Bobby, what?"
"Rufus called." Bobby met Dean's eyes. "Marcus has been spotted in town."
Dean's breath caught in his throat. "This town?" He croaked, but of course Bobby meant this town. They had been expecting this. When Bobby rescued them, Marcus got away with just a shot to the shoulder, and on top of that, his son Nick was now dead. Marcus would be out for blood, and he would be coming after Sam – it was just a matter of when and where.
"Sorry, boy." Bobby said.
Dean brought his fist to his mouth and bit at his knuckle nervously. "What are we going to do, Bobby? We can't just sit here and wait for–" Dean stopped as a thought occurred to him. He exhaled sharply and dropped his hand.
"What?" Bobby asked. "Dean?"
"Oh no." Dean felt lightheaded. "Sam!"
Dean tore out of the room and down the hall, almost knocking over a nurse pushing a tray of food. Bobby followed behind Dean, calling frantically after him, but Dean didn't have time to explain. How long had Sam been in physical therapy? Twenty minutes? Longer? That nurse – why hadn't Dean seen her around before? Oh god, he was so stupid. He should never have let Sam go with her alone.
Dean rounded a corner and slammed into a solid body, sending him stumbling backwards. He started to apologize but froze when he saw who it was.
"Doc?"
Kendall noticed the urgency in Dean's voice and titled his head, concerned. "Something wrong, Dean?"
Dean's mind was like a broken record. Oh god, oh god, oh god and stupid, so stupid. This confirmed it then. Sam was supposed to be in physical therapy with Kendall right at this moment, and yet here Kendall was standing in front of Dean with a confused look on his face. Still, Dean had to ask. "Get done early?" The words were barely a whisper, and he closed his eyes as he waited for an answer. Hoping against all odds that was the case – they just got done early. Please.
"I'm sorry?" Kendall was looking more and more confused each minute.
"Sam." Dean snapped. "He's supposed to be with you right now in physical therapy."
Kendall looked taken aback and shook his head. "I... Sam didn't show up today. I was just coming to check on him."
Dean cursed loudly. Behind him, Bobby groaned.
"Is something–" Kendall started, but Dean was sprinting down the hall before he had a chance to finish, Bobby on his heels.
He approached the nurses station, where an older, dark haired woman looked up at him with frightened eyes. She looked like she was considering running away, and Dean supposed that he looked like he was ready to kill someone. He took a breath and tried to speak calmly.
"Julia. Is she in today?"
"I'm sorry." The woman said meekly. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Julia Ford!" Dean all but shouted, and the nurse flinched away. "Did she call in sick this morning?"
The woman typed into her computer while shooting Dean nervous glances. Finally she looked at him with a frown and said, "No, I'm sorry, she hasn't signed in today, and I have no record of her calling in."
Dean slammed his palms on the counter. "And nobody thought that was strange?"
The woman cowered, and Dean thought she had a damn good reason to be scared. If he didn't get some answers, he was going to shoot up the entire hospital.
"Dean." Bobby said from behind him, and Dean turned to face him.
"What are we going to do, Bobby?" Dean demanded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. "I let him go. I let her take him. And now Marcus has got him, and we don't know where he is. What the hell are we going to do?"
"Just calm down–"
"Don't tell me to calm down! He's going to kill him!"
"Alright." Bobby said, raising his hands in surrender. "Let's just think about this a sec."
Dean breathed heavily and his mind raced for a solution. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to focus, but all he could think was Sam's gone, Julia's missing, they both might be dead, Marcus has them, and I didn't even see which way– "Wait." He said as a thought occurred to him, and he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner. "Security cameras. This hospital has security cameras, right?" He turned to the woman at the desk and she nodded hastily. Dean tapped Bobby's chest with the back of his hand. "Come on, we gotta check out the security footage."
He turned once more to the woman behind the desk. "Where can I see the tapes?"
She pointed down the hall, and Dean noticed that all the fear was gone from her face. She seemed excited to help. "Take the elevator to the basement. There's a security room there."
Dean didn't bother thanking her. He took off down the hall to the staircase – in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator. The man in the security room insisted they call the police before they could see the footage, and Dean didn't have time to argue, so he knocked the guy out with one swift punch and lowered him gently to the floor. Bobby shot Dean a disapproving glance, but didn't say anything.
It was easy to find their floor and rewind the tape a half an hour to when the fake nurse took Sam out of the room, and Dean watched with clenched fists as Sam was wheeled out into the hallway. "There they are." He said to Bobby, and they watched as the fake nurse sneakily pulled her hand out of her pocket and stuck a needle into an unsuspecting Sam. Sam's head fell forward immediately and the woman wheeled him down the hall, nodding politely to other nurses as she passed.
"What the hell was that?" Dean asked angrily, and switched to the parking ramp footage once Sam and the woman were out the door. Dean and Bobby watched as the woman brought Sam to a green van, and a man that Dean didn't recognize came around from the driver's side to help throw Sam into the back. Dean winced, knowing that his brother's ribs weren't fully healed, and the toss had to have done some damage. The two kidnappers left the wheelchair and pulled slowly out of the parking spot and onto the street.
"Damn it!" Dean yelled. "Nobody even questioned her!" He ran his hand across his face. "Bobby, can you take this tape and try to get the license plate number off that van?"
"I'm on it." Bobby answered, ejecting the tape and shoving it in his jacket. He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Don't do anything stupid, Dean. Call me if you get any leads. We're going to find him."
Dean nodded and didn't answer, and Bobby left. Not sure what to do next, Dean went to the parking lot and found Sam's wheelchair. He looked out into the bright sun and for a moment was caught up in an irrational fear that Sam's eyes would be damaged because he wasn't wearing sunglasses. He had to remind himself that there were more important issues at hand. "Where are you, Sammy?" He whispered to the empty parking space.
Just then, his phone rang. Dean looked at the caller ID – unknown. He flipped the phone open immediately and put it to his ear without saying a word.
"Hello, Dean." A familiar, deep voice said through the speaker. "It's so nice to talk to you again." The sound sent chills down Dean's back, and he gripped the phone tighter until it was in danger of being crushed from the pressure.
Dean kicked the wheelchair in frustration and lowered his voice threateningly. "Marcus."
Marcus laughed. In the background, Dean heard someone scream.
Sorry for the cliffhanger! I hope things are getting exciting again. Remember, reviews make me want to get the next chapter up sooner! ;)
