Disclaimer: I don't own Bobby, Dean, Sam, or anything else you recognize. I know that the conversation with John and Dean last chapter seemed over the top and out of character, but I always figured if his kids were hurt he'd be different; plus, he's totally freaked out.
Dean was scared.
The last thing he remembered was talking to his Dad, having a total chick-flick moment; then he woke up in his room, confused, exhausted and surrounded by doctors. They were talking in long medical terms, the kind of words that annoyed him because he was only in the third grade and he didn't know what they were saying
"Hey Dean, you with us?" Kelly asked, straightening his nasal cannula.
"Yeah," Dean answered. "What happened?"
"You had a seizure," she answered-he liked that she was being honest. He hated when the doctors tried to sugar-coat things because he was young.
"Did Sammy see?" he asked, worried; the last thing he wantd to do was scare his little brother.
"Dean, he's fine. Let's worry about you for a little bit, okay?" Dr. Riley chimed in. "I'll be right back; I've got to talk to your father about doing a few tests.
XXX
John was sitting with Sam in a room directly across from where Dean was, waiting for an update and consoling his youngest. Sam was throwing up-maybe because he was sick, or maybe because he was worried about Dean. John said and did all the right things, but it was so hard to make himself feel sorry for him.
When Dean's doctor walked into the room, John practically attacked him.
"How's Dean?" he asked.
"Stable. We want to give him an EEG and an MRI to see exactly why he had a seizure, but we need your consent," Dr. Riley answered, handing him a paper and a pen.
John scanned it; it might as well have been written in Chinese, because he didn't understand a word it said. He signed and handed the paper back.
"We've got the results on your boys," Dr. Riley answered. "It's meningococcal meningitis. Dean probably gave it to Sam through sharing a drink, or even a toy. Because neither boy had a vaccine, they were already at a higher risk. We've already started Dean on Ceftriaxone, and we'll switch Sam over immediately."
"What are their chances?" John asked, running a hand through his youngest's hair; his kids meant the world to him.
"Meningococcal meningitis has a fatality rate of anywhere from five to fifteen percent, and we'll know more about Sam and Dean's chances after about a day on the new antibiotics," he answered. "If it's working, their fevers will go down, they might start asking for food instead of us having to make them eat, and they'll just appear to be more healthy. It's not going to happen overnight; they'll be in here for about another four to five days at the least."
"Okay," John replied, although it wasn't okay. How could anything be okay, when his kids were sick because of him? Dean could've caught the virus from any one of the people at the crappy diners and fleabag motels that they visited, and Sam probably got it when John had made them share a drink at the diner, because he was running short on cash.
I'm sorry, guys.
XXX
Getting an EEG done was extremely boring.
When the process has started, the first thing that the doctor had done was attach all sorts of little electrodes to Dean's head; they would measure the electrical impulses in his head. Then, they had turned on some flashing lights, hoping to provoke some weird activity in his brain. He had to sit there for what felt like forever, until finally they had taken off the electrodes and brought him to the MRI.
They made him take off his watch and everything else that was metal before they slid him onto the table; then, the table moved into the huge magnet.
Inside, it was loud and cramped; he had to stay still, and it was long. Every now and then, the machine would make a loud bang, and he would flinch.
"Okay Dean, we're done. We're taking you out now."
The table moved out, and he was back in the open room, able to breathe.
"We're going to bring you back to your room," Dr. Riley told Dean as he inserted his IV. "This medicine is different from the stuff we had you on before, it should make you better much more quickly."
"Hey, Dr. Riley?" Dean asked. "When am I getting out of here?"
"Soon, Dean," he replied. "Really soon."
Reviews? Sorry about the short chapter, I'll update soon if you're still interested. It's coming to a close; the next chapter's going to be the last.
