Broken Chapter 7
Tim glared at the x-ray film once more, as though daring it to defy him. But there it was; the first bullet. Sighing in frustration he learned closer as if further scrutiny would change things for the better.
A knock drew him out of his thoughts and he turned to find Bobby Singer's anxious face peering round the door. "You wanted to speak to me son?"
"Yeah. Thanks. Please come in." Tim indicated the chair opposite his. "Take a seat. Where's Dean?" His sharp, overly-professional manner already clued Bobby in.
"He didn't want to leave Sam so I said I'd fill him in later." Bobby replied as he sat down. Then he leaned forward studying the young doctor's face as closely as Tim had studied Sam's x-ray. "I'm guessin' by the look on yer face, and that you've fiddled endlessly with your stethoscope since I stepped in the room that it aint good news." Bobby raised an eyebrow enquiringly.
Tim gave out a nervous chuckle as he hastily took the stethoscope from round his neck and shoved it in his pocket. Not wanting to delay Sam's treatment any longer he wasted no more time. "You're right. It aint good news..."
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Dean yawned lazily. He reached up and scratched his chest, tried but failed to stretch, and promptly fell off the seat.
Seat? What the hell am I doin' sleeping on a seat? And one that likely came from a store called Hell's Furniture: Come and get your very own haemorrhoids while you sit!
Thinking that maybe it was time to open his eyes, Dean took the plunge.
Hmm. That's why. He got to his feet then stood and leaned over his little brother, watching his features carefully. Sam was out for the count, not one muscle twitching, not even in his face. He was sound asleep. After the suicide attempt one of the nurses had suggested placing Sam in soft restraints for his own good, but Dean had hotly protested. He didn't want to see his normally strong and proud brother chained up like some kind of animal. No. Dean decided to stand as Sam's own personal guard dog; Sam had had enough control over his body, his life, ripped away from him as it was. Tying him down just seemed too cruel and undignified. Sam's doctor, whom Dean was fast becoming fond of and already had a mountain of respect for, had agreed. Tim had popped in from time to time whilst Sam was sleeping and they'd had some pretty decent chats. Dean found that Sam's doctor was easy to talk to, and soon realised why Bobby trusted him so much.
Nurses, specialists, and doctors alike were going to have to get used to Dean being there. Wherever Sam went, his older brother would shadow him. Dean was determined to be involved every step of the way, and not just to make sure Sam got the best treatment to ensure his recovery. It was Dean's way of proving to Sam that he wasn't going anywhere.
When Sam made a soft sleepy noise Dean reached through the bed railings and grasped his hand.
"Hey kiddo. There's no rush ok? Take as long as you need. I'll be here when you wake up." As desperate as he was to talk to his brother, to kick start the healing process Dean knew these things couldn't be rushed. Sam needed to rest, and Dean, still reeling from the events of the last few days, needed some quiet time of his own.
Thinking didn't seem like such a hot idea right now, but it had to be done. Dean felt his heart clench and unclench with each and every near miss. Dropping Sam to the floor, unknowing of the devastation it would cause. Sam's ghastly appearance as he emerged from the ambulance, his doctor announcing a bleed, emergency surgery, Bobby's account of what happened at the gas station six months ago, Sam's account of it, Sam's nightmares and calling out his brother's name, Tim's revelation that Sam probably wouldn't walk again, Sam trying to kill himself...
Jesus! Much more of this and Dean was gonna be a heart attack victim by the time he hit thirty. But the part that was bugging him the most was the gunman. He'd shot Sam in the back, twice. Dean wasn't sure why but he was pretty certain Sam had seen his attacker's face, but why would Sam lie about it? And if it were true, was Sam still in danger? Supposing the guy came back to finish what he started?
His previous conversations with Sam had created more questions than had been answered.
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Sometime later it was a more-sombre-than-usual-Bobby that made his way back to Sam's room. Dean glanced over at him as he entered, and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
Bobby stared hard at Sam for a second then turned to his older brother. "Maybe we should talk outside."
"No way." Dean immediately shook his head. "I'm gonna be here when we wakes up. Just talk quietly; he's dead to the world right now anyway." And winced when he said that.
I sure hope we can look back on this and laugh one day, though somehow I doubt it.
Bobby huffed and leaned against the wall. "Tim's been looking at Sam's latest x-rays. He had some more taken just after Sam...well...ya know."
Dean nodded. Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was completely another. It was so unlike the Sam he knew to give up and try taking his own life. But there was no time to brood. Judging by Bobby's demeanour, there was a serious issue lurking in the wings.
"I'm not sure I understand all the terminology here, but it seems as though the bullet is in a precarious position." Bobby continued in a low voice. "It's unstable, and if it shifts again not only will it cause worse damage to Sam's spinal cord but it may kill him outright. It's too close to one of the major blood vessels, and with the angle it's at any movement could cause a massive bleed, one that could make the one he's already had look like a trickle." Bobby shifted his weight a little under Dean's worried stare. "And apparently it won't take much to shift it. A small knock, a sudden fall, or even just over-exertion could trigger it."
"What's Tim wanna do?" Dean asked, his voice tight with anxiety. He already knew the answer but wanted to hear it for himself.
"More surgery. He believes that bullet has to come out; it's essential now to save Sam's life." Bobby stared out the window expectantly. He knew Dean well enough to predict how he would react to that.
"For God's sake Bobby! Sam's already had major surgery and he's not even close to fully recovered from it!" But Dean's explosion was a quiet one, unwilling to disturb his brother. He got up and, predictably, paced.
But quietly.
"Yeah. Tim aint too happy 'bout that either. But he thinks we can't afford to wait much longer. It's plain ol' catch twenty two."
If Sam didn't have the bullet removed he stood a huge chance of dying, but the surgery itself wasn't without danger: it was just as risky as letting the bullet remain. Bobby followed Dean's movements with his eyes. This was gonna be a tough one to bring up. "He suspects the bullet moved slightly after the overdose, probably when Sam was lowered to the floor. Then, of course, he had a stomach pump which didn't help."
Dean halted. "How much more crap am I gonna put on Sam before he winds up dead 'cos of me?!"
"Now hold on son, don't get carried away. Tim aint sayin' it's your fault. Just the opposite in fact. You stormed into Sam's room and discovered what he'd done before it was too late, you acted quickly and saved his life." Bobby grabbed Dean's shoulder before the pacing could continue. "But that aint the issue now. Tim's gettin' scrubbed up as we speak and the nurses are preparin' the OR, so let's just..."
"No."
Dean and Bobby's heads shot round in shock. They hadn't realised Sam had woken up, and it was clear by the dull expression on his face that he'd heard everything.
Dean hung his head for a second before sitting back down. "Sam..."
"No." Sam whispered again. "No more surgery."
Sighing in frustration, Dean glared at Sam. He was trying hard not to be angry but his little brother was trying his patience. "Without it there's a good chance you'll die. I know that's what you wanted but I had high hopes you'd changed ya God damn mind by now!" He replied more bitterly than he'd intended.
"Dean..."
"You're having that surgery Sam, if I have to forge your signature on the consent form and knock you out myself!" Ok, so he'd wanted Sam to get some sense of control back but not at the expense of his life. Dean loomed over his little brother threateningly, "I'm not letting you give up! You're not throwing your life away!"
He expected a reaction, a scowl, a glare, an angry retort, anything. But what he actually got was...nothing.
Just a sad, steady gaze that shocked Dean into silence. It was loaded with weariness and when Sam spoke softly once again, he had to look away.
"I can't do this anymore Dean. There's been too much false hope and denial, too much pain and suffering." Sam reached out and gently touched Dean's arm. "I just don't think I can go through it all again. I don't have any more to give."
Dean looked down at his brother's hand, then reached out and gripped it tightly before fixing Sam with an equally steady gaze. "Maybe I have enough for the both of us, Sam. Just...please... have the surgery. Don't give up Sammy. We can get through this, but you gotta have faith in yourself." He gave a faint grin. "And me."
Sam sighed a little and stared at his hand clenched in Dean's. He got the sudden weirdest feeling that the gesture was almost symbolic. They'd come full circle once again.
No matter how far apart they were, no matter how far one of them strayed, they always found themselves back at this point.
Sam really didn't think he had the emotional resources to deal with all this again, but Dean obviously did. And that gave Sam back a little of the hope he thought had escaped him.
But he also realised that he couldn't do it to his brother. They'd both lost so much, and Dean had almost lost him. Sam was finally starting to understand what Dean had been trying to tell him. He'd never hated him; leaving Sam sixth months ago was just anger and fear manifesting in self-protect mode.
Slowly raising his head, his eyes connecting with Dean's, Sam swallowed hard.
Then nodded.
"I'll try, but I can't make any promises. And for the record," Sam gave a slight, sad smile. "I never lost faith in you Dean. I just got a little outta my depth."
His brother squeezed his hand tightly again before smiling back, though it didn't reach his eyes. "That happens again? You talk to me ya hear?" His voice became hard with desperation. "Don't go hurting yourself again. 'Cos when you do that? It's not just you you're hurtin'. Understand?"
Nodding again, Sam squeezed back.
"Bobby? Can you let Tim know Sam's ready?" Dean glanced over to see Bobby watching them with barely concealed affection.
"I'll be back in a sec." Just as he turned to go, Bobby called out softly. "You're making the right decision Sam. I'm proud of you."
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Tim hadn't meant to eavesdrop but as he'd approached the door to Sam's room there was no helping it. He'd held his breath when Dean was trying to talk Sam into having the surgery, and breathed out in relief when it worked. If it hadn't then he was right behind Dean on the forged-signature-knocking-him-out plan, even it was unethical. He shook his head, then quickly stepped back when he heard movement behind the door. When Bobby peered out at him, Tim got the distinct impression the older man knew exactly what he'd been doing. An appraising stare and a quick grin confirmed his suspicions, and Tim grinned back.
"I take it that my patient is ready? Great. Dean can accompany him to the waiting area outside the OR but after we anaesthetise him, he'll have to leave." Tim smiled apologetically. "As soon as we're done I'll come see ya both."
"Any idea how long it'll take? Or is that a stupid question?" Bobby asked, leaning against the door frame.
"God knows!"
"So, stupid question then?"
"Yup."
The two men stood there for a moment in silence. Both were worried about Sam and what lay ahead for him, but now they were also worried about his brother. Tim had spent some time listening to Dean talk about Sam when he was growing up, and it was obvious that the two of them were close. Tim was a good listener in every sense of the word, and didn't miss the subtle signs of a strong brotherly bond, in spite of all the ups and downs that accosted most, if not all sibling relationships.
Sam was Dean's best friend. And from the way Sam had spoken about his older brother in the past, it was a friendship that was clearly reciprocated.
Tim suddenly felt the world come to rest heavily upon his shoulders.
If something went wrong during the op, he'd never forgive himself.
Damn shame there was so much to go wrong.
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Dean followed Sam's gurney right up 'til they reached the doors of the OR, and never once let go of his hand. He could tell that Sam was scared, and that made him smile. If his little brother was scared then that meant he truly hadn't given up hope. He wanted to live.
"Ok Sammy, here we are." He brushed a strand of hair from Sam's forehead and smiled into his eyes. "It's all up hill from now on kiddo. You're gonna get through this ok?"
"Yeah." Sam whispered back nervously. He was lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side so he could keep his eyes on his brother. "Look Dean, if anything happens..."
Dean cut him off with a stern scowl. "Don't you talk like that. You're comin' outta there alive and breathin' or I swear I'll kill you myself!"
Sam smirked a little at that, but it soon faded as his eyes darkened with fear once more. Dean stroked his thumb over Sam's knuckle.
"I'll still be here when it's over." Both boys had lost count of the number of times he'd said words to that effect, but Sam felt safer every time he heard them.
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Bobby was angry, no furious was a better word. He'd spent months trying to keep Sam's identity and whereabouts out of the press. And now this.
He slammed the newspaper down on the waiting room table in front of Dean, who stared at the headlines through bleary eyes.
Local hero tries to take his own life. True identity revealed.
Twenty four year old reporter Nick Harper became a hero sixth months ago when he saved a young girl's life during an armed robbery. He was shot in the back and left paralysed from the waist down. A subsequent leak to this newspaper has revealed that Harper's real name is Sam Winchester, formerly of Stanford, California, whose brother Dean Winchester was shot dead in St Louis a few years ago. Dean Winchester, of no fixed abode, had been wanted for kidnapping and murder.
The claim continues that Sam Winchester was admitted to the local hospital four days ago. It is firmly believed that the young man in question suffered a psychotic break and tried to
commit suicide by taking a cocktail of illegal narcotics. Due to some quick thinking by his Uncle, Mr Winchester survived the attempt and is likely to make a full recovery...
"What the f...?"
"Keep it down!" Bobby glanced around the waiting room, relieved to see they were alone.
Dean lowered his voice. "What the hell's goin' on Bobby?"
Bobby stared at the news rag in utter disgust. "I wish I knew. But I do know that aint no damn leak!"
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Author's notes:
Well, well, well! What do we have here?
Just as things seem to get worse for Sam, Dean steps in and makes him see sense, but whilst he's lying on the operating table once again, the press have been fed some semi-false information about Sam and Dean, but to what ends?
For any medical experts and critics out there, before you start turning red and frothing at the mouth, yes. I am quite aware of how farfetched this is with regards to Sam's medical status.
But isn't that the point of Supernatural fan fiction in the first place?
I stole the name of Nick Harper from Kris Marshal's character in My Family.
Hope you enjoyed this and it isn't too boring for you. I know some of you out there are probably dying for some action. Well here's the good news.
It's coming. I'm just not promising when!
Many thanks for your kind reviews so far, and I promise, as always, to reply to any I've missed. My thanks are of course extended to all anonymous reviewers.
Kind regards,
ST.xxx.
