Broken Chapter 8
Bobby set about explaining the aftermath of the shooting.
Since the armed robbers had managed to escape the clutches of the law, he'd taken it upon himself to protect Sam's identity. Bobby had no idea at that point just how much Sam knew or had witnessed, but the CCTV footage of the robbery had revealed nothing of direct interest.
Except for one important detail.
Bobby had seen the footage several times and never failed to wince at Sam's shooting. But as Sam lay seriously injured face down on the floor the gunman appeared to raise his ski mask before taking aim one final time, intent on killing the young Winchester.
Unfortunately, the gunman's back was to the camera, so the only person who could possibly identify him was...
"Sam," Dean breathed out his little brother's name anxiously. He nodded. "So he was lyin' to me." He murmured almost to himself.
Bobby gave him a sharp glance. "I don't know about that Dean. Not so much lyin' perhaps as genuinely confused and can't remember. We couldn't tell from the footage if Sam was even conscious at that point."
"Maybe." Dean got up and started pacing again, much to Bobby's irritation but he let it go; Dean had been given more than one reason to be worried about his brother and was trying to think it through. Suddenly Dean stopped and swung round to face him. "You said the gunman was about to take a final shot. What stopped him?"
Bobby shrugged. "The only person who can answer that is Sam." Then he added "and the gunman of course. All you can see in the footage is the guy aiming his weapon at Sam, only nothing happens. It's pretty grainy, not a clear image, but it looks like he says something to Sam then just backs away before disappearing out of view."
Dean felt like throwing up. The bastard who shot his little brother meant to finish him off, but for some reason stopped. Why? Did he run out of ammo? Did he change his mind? Did he think Sam was dead already and didn't want to waste the bullet? Whatever the reason, Dean found himself shaking with a mix of belated fear and relief for Sam.
He couldn't understand why the guy revealed his face to a hostage in the first place, and said as much to Bobby.
"To taunt him perhaps?" Bobby mused. "He was about to kill Sam outright so I guess it didn't matter. Sam had just really pissed him off by helping the youngest hostage to escape. And, contrary to popular belief, most criminals think kids make far more valuable hostages than adults, mainly 'cos they're easier to intimidate but also the cops are far more likely to co-operate when there's kids involved."
Dean thought that one through for a second. "Bobby, you said it was two hours before the cops were able to storm the building and rescue Sam and the other hostages." When Bobby nodded, Dean continued. "But the bastards managed to escape. How long before they found a way out?"
Bobby sat back in his seat. "According to the other hostages, the two men left them tied up and exited the building via a door to the basement in the main office at least an hour before the raid." He shook his head. "It took the cops way too long to realise there was no one to negotiate with. They kept on calling and calling the office, but no one answered. After a
while, they decided to storm the place. Turns out they cut a hole in the basement wall and made their escape through the sewers."
Dean stared at him in amazement. "That's a hell of a lot of trouble to go to just for the few lousy bucks a gas station might make in a day!"
Bobby shrugged in agreement. "Yeah, and professional too. But that gas station's positioned on a busy main road, especially during the tourist season, and makes over a hundred an' fifty thousand dollars a week at the peak of trade. And the owner, who incidentally was the father of the girl Sam saved, only had the security van's visit twice a month for the takings. They got their timin' just right." Bobby paused to scratch the back of his neck. "Sure hope he's learned his lesson from all this."
Huffing a little, he carried on with his explanation.
"When they called to tell me about Nick Harper, I recognised that name as one of Sam's aliases, so I kept up the pretence until I had the full story."
Bobby went on to explain that at the time Sam was admitted for emergency surgery, only two other people knew his real name: Tim Rogers and the cop in charge of the investigation into the robbery, Detective Graham Lightman. He was an old friend of Bobby's and once the CCTV footage had been viewed, he'd agreed to keep Sam's identity out of the public eye.
"Has Sam seen the footage?" Dean interrupted briefly, when Bobby shook his head he looked at him questioningly.
"He had enough to deal with, but now that you mention it. Perhaps we should've asked him to take a look." Bobby replied.
During the aftercare it was decided that Nick Harper would just disappear up North in order to recuperate, whilst one Sam Winchester, victim of a horse riding accident, came to stay
with his Uncle Bobby and receive physical therapy at the local hospital, under the watchful eye of Dr Tim Rogers.
By this point the OR team had changed and at least two members of staff had left to take new jobs on the other side of the country. Anyone else was sworn to secrecy. No one should have been able to identify Sam as Nick Harper.
Dean frowned. "Why not stick with his alias?"
"'Cos if word got out that Nick Harper was here, we worried that the gunmen would come lookin' for him. But also because it would make things easier for Sam. He was pretty confused and in a lot of pain and shock after the surgery. I didn't think it would be fair to load him up with an identity change in his state."
"Ok. That makes sense." Dean nodded his agreement, but was feeling a little angry all the same. "But what doesn't make sense is that we've been hangin' round this place for four days, and you didn't see fit to tell me!"
Bobby glared at him. "I think we had slightly more pressing issues going on at the time, and I thought Sam was safe 'til I saw that damn headline! I was gonna tell ya later."
Both men sat in silence for quite some while.
"I'm not sure Sam's safe here." Dean said quietly.
Bobby shrugged. "Yeah. I know. But I think we should hang tight and let this blow over. Sam won't be fit enough to leave yet in any case. We'll just have to be extra vigilant; make sure he goes nowhere alone, and keep strangers well away from him."
Dean heard what he was saying in case the gunman gets wind of this and comes back to murder the one person that could identify him.
"The other important point to mention is that Dean Winchester is supposed to be dead," Dean chewed on his bottom lip.
"Yeah, but only Tim knows who you are. We were both careful not to refer to you as Dean in front of anyone else."
Dean turned to Bobby for a moment. "You sure have placed a lot of faith in Sam's surgeon. What aren't you tellin' me? What else have you told him?"
Bobby sighed. "Nothin' much, but Tim's trustworthy. His mother was a hunter, before she was slaughtered by a wendigo when he was six years old. I didn't mention it 'cos it wasn't my place to, and frankly he doesn't like to talk about it." He glanced at Dean, who frowned again. "Somethin' I thought you of all people would understand."
Thinking of his father, Dean nodded. He did understand. He remembered the tension between himself and his little brother after his father gave up his life for Dean, how Sam wanted to talk, but Dean refused. Sam had been just as hurt by John Winchester's death, but for different reasons.
He grinned a little, "Nowhere alone." Suddenly thinking of Sam's independent nature. "Boy! Is Sam gonna be pissed!"
They lapsed into silence again, both feeling uneasy about their hastily prepared plan.
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Tim squinted a little. "Ok, I need more light over here. That's it...right there."
One of the surgical team held a swab in a pair of forceps, and began gently mopping up some of the excess blood.
Tim looked over at the anaesthetist, who nodded back at him over the top of his surgical mask. "He's a little more restless than I'd like, but otherwise he's doing just fine."
Tim glanced briefly at Sam's profile. Apart from the slight eye movement under the lids, his patient seemed peaceful enough for him to continue.
Taking a deep calming breath, Tim carried on. "Ok. We're through...I can see it!"
He handed back the scalpel and a set of forceps immediately replaced it.
"Ok Sam. Let's hope your luck's taken a turn for the better huh?" He muttered, and began the procedure, occasionally pausing for suction to clear the blood so he could see what he was doing.
He spoke way too soon. As he started gently working and easing the bullet out, blood started welling up at an alarming rate, and he heard one of the nurses gasp a little.
"It's ok. I expected this..." his eyes widened, "... but definitely NOT THIS! Get a clamp in here NOW!"
As if on cue, the cardiac monitor started blaring out its warning and someone called "BP dropping! Sats already down to seventy eight percent!"
"Shit!" Tim dropped the compacted bullet into a kidney bowl and concentrated on trying to save his patient's life. "Get him on one hundred percent oxygen. I gotta stop the bleeding and close this up before it gets outta hand."
The team hurried round the room, collecting various implements and hypodermics to assist their doctor, and Tim worked feverishly trying to halt the shocking blood loss.
"Haematology got that cross-match ready?" At a nod from his intern, Tim carried on barking orders. "Right. Let's get three units of blood into him. I think I've got this under control..."
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Tim removed his latex gloves and dumped them into the nearest clinical waste bin, before loosening the mask. He was shattered and felt much older than his years.
It was close. Sam had needed a further transfusion; two more units of blood, but he was losing it faster than the team could keep up. Eventually they'd had to call Sam's brother into the donor room. Dean had the same blood type as Sam, which was a blessing. Since the scare over BSE, new variant CJD and a host of other infectious diseases, blood donations had dropped in the last year, and reserves were running low. Dean had given two units and was prepared to give more, but Tim wouldn't hear of it. One unconscious Winchester was quite enough, thank you!
Sam's haemoglobin was still a little low, but the anaemia hopefully wouldn't last. He had enough to see him through until his body was able to build up to normal levels. His renal function tests had revealed a slight kidney impairment, the urea and creatinine levels a little high, but Tim hoped that would eventually resolve itself without too much intervention.
Sam was stable for now and was currently being cleaned up, but Tim was worried. There could still be complications, something could still go wrong even though he'd checked and rechecked everything before, during and after the procedure.
But the kid was alive and that had to be enough for now. Only time would tell.
Tim made his way out to the donor unit where Dean was...well...being forced to lie still and recover. Knocking tentatively on the door frame he smiled at his patient's older brother. Dean was asleep on the reclining donor chair, face still a little pale.
"How's he feelin'?" He asked Bobby who was sat on a sofa reading a car magazine, waiting for Dean to wake up.
Bobby grinned, confirming Tim's earlier thoughts about unconscious Winchesters. "He fainted not long after givin' blood. I just caught him in time before he brained 'imself on the table." He chuckled. "Damn fool kid. I tol' 'im to sit and rest, but he's just like his daddy. Stubborn as a goddamn mule!"
"I guess he's just desperate to hear how his brother's doing." Tim joined him on the sofa.
"And?" Bobby closed the magazine, placed it back on the table, then turned to face Dr Rogers.
"It was a massive bleed as you know, worse than before. The next twenty four hours are gonna be critical, and Sam's gonna be under very close observation." Tim prayed he wasn't jinxing anyone with what he said next. "But...I think he'll be ok."
"That's good. That's better than good." Then Bobby pulled out the newspaper and handed it to Tim. "'Cos we could have big problems."
Tim stared at the paper in shock. "Holy Shit!"
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Once Sam had been removed from recovery and transferred back to his room, Dean joined him. He was still feeling a little groggy and intensely embarrassed at his fainting spell.
"Dude, I didn't faint! Girls faint! I passed out!" Was ringing in Bobby and Tim's amused ears as they headed for the staff room.
Tim had arranged to call all the ward staff together for a meeting, and Bobby was going as the Winchester's representative. Tim was convinced that someone on his staff had somehow leaked the information to the press; after all, no one else could've possibly known that Sam Winchester was Nick Harper, hero of a gas station robbery from six months ago. He was particularly annoyed because reporters from newspapers all over the state had been calling the hospital, badgering the staff for more information. A few even showed up in reception, pretending to have an appointment with Sam's doctor.
Bobby was still just as convinced it wasn't a leak, that it had been done with deliberate intent.
Upon entering the room, Tim invited Bobby to take a seat then called for quiet amongst the muttering doctors, nurses and other staff that worked on the ward.
"As you all probably know, the press had quite a lot to say about one of our patients. The information was grossly incorrect and the patient's family may well be considering legal action for defamation of character. I refer of course to the circumstances surrounding Sam Winchester's admission to this hospital earlier in the week; false allegations regarding illegal drug use have quite understandably upset the young man's family." He stared long and hard at his audience, his gaze sweeping the room for full effect. Bobby was more than a little impressed with the bluff. "I want to reiterate the importance of patient confidentiality, and any breech of our data protection and integrated care record policies will not be tolerated. A full enquiry will be launched in conjunction with a legal investigation. If necessary all email accounts will be checked. However," Tim paused, and Bobby kept
his face emotionless. Voice softened a little, Tim continued, "I'm sure such unpleasantness can be avoided. If there's someone here that has any relevant information, you have twenty four hours to come forward. And I will endeavour to speak on your behalf to the medical board. But rest assured, we will find out."
Bobby, eyes narrowed, watched the staff members carefully.
Whose lookin' guilty?
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Dean was staring out the window, still wondering, worrying...watching. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was coming. In spite of Tim's assurances that it was probably an accidental leak, and Dean had to admit that it was likely, it didn't stop the thoughts racing through his mind. Even if it was perfectly innocent, the potential consequences bothered him greatly.
Once the gunman found out who and where his brother was, there would be trouble on the way.
How the hell am I gonna protect Sam from that?
And how the hell am I gonna get him to open up to me?
"Dean?"
Sam's voice sounded so pitifully weak and childlike that it took Dean back about fifteen years to a younger Sam. His Sammy. He was by his side within seconds, sitting on the bed and leaning over his brother, brushing the hair out of Sam's sleepy eyes.
"Hey kiddo. How you feelin'?"
Sam blinked slowly up at him and frowned. "Dean? You look pale man. You ok?"
Dean smiled. It wasn't his cocky, I'm the King-of-the-Crap-Heap grin, but a reassuring smile that spoke volumes. It was the facial equivalent of a hug. "I'm fine dude." He dropped the smile in favour of mock-annoyance. "But you owe me some blood little bro." He held out his hand in a 'gimme' gesture. "Now pay up!"
Sam produced a weak smile of his own. "I take it that the surgery had some complications."
The smile returned, but this time there was a tinge of fear and worry attached. "Yeah, just a few. But you're gonna be ok." Dean gently grasped Sam's hand in his. "Just...try to think before you go saving pre-pubescent girls in distress huh?" He smirked at little, "At least make sure she aint jail bait, and her bra size? It helps if it's bigger than her shoes!"
Sam chuckled. He couldn't help himself. It was such a relief to listen to Dean's warped sense of humour again. Pain flared in his back, and he grimaced and let out a small hiss.
"Sam! What's wrong dude? You ok?" Dean reached for the call button but Sam stopped him.
"I'm...fine. Just...try not to make me laugh too much ok?" Sam smiled at Dean for a moment, then sadness took over, and he spoke haltingly, finding the words hard to get out. "We're...good, right? You don't hate me? For what I did sixth months ago...for what I...tried to do yesterday?"
"Sammy..." Dean sighed as he dragged a chair closer, got off the bed and sat, then gently laid his free hand on Sam's shoulder. "I never hated you for what you decided back then; I just felt angry that you wanted to go back to a normal life. I was childish, yeah sure, but I never hated you for it. As for what you did yesterday?" Dean hung his head for a second, then raised it and locked his eyes with Sam's. "The only way I can promise to never hate you for that, is for you to promise you won't ever do that again." He strengthened his grip on Sam's shoulder, desperate eyes boring into his. "And mean it, Sam! I need you to mean it."
Sam stared back at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I promise." He whispered.
And he meant it.
Nodding and smiling, Dean patted his brother's shoulder. "Now get some rest Sammy. We got a lot to talk about, but you need to rest up first."
As Sam closed his eyes, Dean sat back in his seat.
There was a lot to talk about, but Sam wasn't up to it yet. In the meantime, Dean wondered what was being said at Tim's staff meeting. He'd wanted to be there, but he needed to be with Sam.
So he let Bobby deal with it. He would fill him in later, but for now Dean was still Sam's personal guard. No one was getting to Sam without coming through him first.
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"So, in closing. I ask you all to remain vigilant. If you don't feel safe challenging any strangers that come on to the ward, then call me, or better yet call security." Tim finished up with another stern glance around the room. "Remember. Twenty four hours."
Bobby stared at everyone that filtered passed him as they made their way out.
Tim turned to him. "Well? What do you think?"
"I..." Bobby was interrupted by a small voice from the back of the room.
"Dr Rogers? I think I know what happened."
Tim recognised the nurse that cautiously approached him. It was the same young woman that had gone into Sam's room to administer his medication the day he tried to commit suicide.
"Miss Henley. Susan isn't it?" Tim's voice and expression remained neutral, though he could feel his blood boiling already. "What happened exactly?"
The nurse looked down at her feet. "I didn't leak anything to the press. But..." She glanced up sorrowfully, big brown eyes filling with tears. "I think someone else did. Someone I know."
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Author's notes:
Ok. So we're getting closer to who went to the press, and Sam is still in a serious condition.
Bobby has revealed the existence of CCTV footage, along with his reasons for keeping Sam's identity a secret, and Dean's more worried than ever.
So? What dya think? Personally, I have a feeling I've made it a bit too complicated and now have a few inconsistencies here.
Really need to stop doing that! But then that's what happens when someone like me is allowed to write anything that springs into my insane head.
Hope you liked it, tough shit if you didn't 'cos I aint goin' back and changing it now!
Kind regards,
ST.xxx.
