Zoë and Tate walk into the main entrance of Massachusetts General Hospital. She doesn't care if it looks ridiculous, but she's walking on bare feet, unable to walk for an half an hour on her killing stiletto's. She's also wearing Tate's tuxedo, which he offered her, since she was quite cold. As she walks up to the helpdesk, she glances down the hallway at the waiting area where she sat down after Sam was brought in, but Dean isn't there. A nurse looks up as soon as she reaches the desk.
"Can you tell me where I can find Jake Fogerty? He was brought in about an hour and a half ago", Zoë asks her.
The nurse checks her computer for information on Cindy's husband and then faces her again.
"He moved up to the ICU, Blake building, twelfth floor", the kind woman tells her.
"Thank you", Zoë says grateful and walks further, tailing Tate who already moves down the hallway. She follows the signs to the Blake section of the huge hospital. Hallways seem endless, all the same mint green shimmering floors and soft colored yellow walls. In the Blake building they wait for an elevator as Zoë scans the sign next to the big steel doors. Her breath stops for a short second when she reads what's on Black 12; the Neuro Intensive Care Unit. She sighs deeply, because she can conclude two things from this. If he's been brought to the NICU, it means that his breathing problem is under control, so that they can now concentrate on the next problem. Sam's brain has been almost completely cut off from blood and air for quite some time now. She hopes that it doesn't come with consequences, but fears the worst. Deep inside her gut, which feels like twirling inside of her, tells Zo that things are not good, but she can't give in to that intuition. Several scenarios and outcomes haunt her, please don't let her be too late. Finally the elevator arrives and they get in.
"I hate hospitals", Tate breaks the silence.
Zoë huffs, from a doctor-to-be point of view ready to criticize that statement, but she changes her mind when it sinks in that the only reason why Tate dislikes hospitals, is because even here they can't help his father, who probably was examined at the same Neurological Unit as they are heading for right now. It doesn't surprise her that the young Hamill knows where to find the helpdesk on the 12th floor; he probably knows this place like the back of his hand. A bit nervous, anxious to know what happened after she lifted the curse, she follows Tate to the helpdesk of the ICU, which is a lot smaller than the one in the main hall downstairs. Before Tate asks one of the nurses where he can find Jake Fogerty, Zoë spots Dean through the large window of a private room on her left side. He's standing at the end of the bed, his hands in his pockets, staring at the motionless body of his little brother in front of him with a shallow gaze. Silently she enters the room and hears several rhythmical beeps when she opens the door. Sam is intubated now, a monitor registers his heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen, which all seems fine. Though Dean seems like his world just came down. He doesn't even respond to her entrance. His eyelids are red, almost as if he has been crying. His state confuses Zoë, she has never seen him like this before. His depressed mood causes her to grab the chart from Sam's hospital bed and she reads through it. Blood rates, X-rays, CT results… there she stops and rereads the line. No activity in the alpha theta delta frequencies. Unable to speak she looks up at Dean, who's waiting for her to realize what's going on. Her mouth slightly opens and her gaze shifts to Sam. Zoë knows what that means, there's no other possibility. Talking about worse case scenario. She can't go against test results; Sam's brain is dead. Again she reads the charts, not willing to believe it. Her eyes aren't deceiving her and neither are Dean's, which are filled with sorrow. The Dean she knows, the perky macho, the womanizer who likes to tease his little brother and always sees the world in a bright light, there's nothing left of him. And all this time he doesn't speak, he just stands there. Zoë knows his pain, she felt it too.
"Dean, I… I'm so sorry", she stammers, looking up from the papers.
He swallows apprehensively, but doesn't react to her words. He seems to have become numb, struck by lightning but unable to get furious or burst out into tears.
"Have you talked to a doctor yet?", she asks, trying to think rational.
"Yeah, he ehm… she wanted to talk to you", he says with raspy voice.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head in disbelief. At that moment she hears a soft knock on the door and sees a woman in a white doctor's coat at the other side of the glass. It's only until now that Zoë realizes that she has the authority to decide what happens to Sam, considering he's listed as her husband, thanks to the false ID's they kept using within these hospital walls. How difficult it might be, she has to play the game. After giving Dean a last look, she walks out with the doctor and spots Tate down the hallway. He remains seated, knowing it's not his place to listen in. So she looks the female doctor in the eye, she's about an inch or two shorter than Zoë and has brown short hair like herself. It's strange, but it's almost if she's facing what she could have become.
"I'm Dr. Thurston. We managed to intubate your husband, Mrs. Fogerty", she starts.
Now comes the 'however', Zoë has heard speeches like these a hundred times, even had to give one herself every now and then.
"…however, the lack of blood flow and oxygen in his brain caused it to shut down, after which he drifted into a coma. There's no activity in the brain. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid he won't wake up".
There she has it, right on her plate. A final confirmation of what she already knew. Shocked she covers her mouth with one hand, unable to say anything. It's not even that hard to act upset. She is, although she didn't even knew him that well.
"I know this is a very difficult thing to think about right now, but one way to salvage something positive out of this is to donate Jake's organs", the doctor carefully Zoë looks up. Although she knew it was coming, she wasn't prepared for it. She knows she has to speak from Dean's behalf now and she's quite sure he isn't willing to call it.
"No, he's still alive. I can't do that", she stammers with difficulty.
"Mrs. Fogerty, if that's the case, I'd ask you to consider signing a Do Not Resuscitate order, that way if Jake's heart fails eventually, we won't subject him to overly aggressive procedures, by prolonging his life in a vegetative state", the doctor tries to press on her with a friendly tone.
"I want you to keep him alive. I can't make this decision now", she states upset, but clear.
"As you wish", the doctor lays it at rest. "If you have further questions, just let me know".
With those words she continues her way down the hallway, leaving Zoë restless. Crap! This just sucks! Sam is a good kid, he doesn't deserve to die like this. And Dean might be a pain in the ass every now and then, it doesn't mean he has to be tortured by watching his brother drift off further and further. Tate throws her a questioning look, which she eventually spots.
"I'll be right with you", she lets him know before she enters the private room again.
Dean waited for her to return, but she can see from the devastated look upon his face that he knows she won't bring good news.
"What did she say?", he asks.
"Believe me, you don't wanna know", Zoë sighs.
"I do", he presses on her.
Although his voice is weak and everything but convincing, Zoë can't keep this from him.
"She told me this is the end of the line", she tells. "And a whole bunch of other stuff about organ donation and DNR".
"I, I…", Dean has to pause, unable to pronounce his words. "I can't…"
Zoë doesn't let him finish. "I know, I didn't sign anything".
He nods, somewhat glad to hear that and glances at his helpless brother again. She can see that he swallows back the tears, remaining strong as he gathers strength to overcome this. He looks around and eventually faces Zoë again, two powerful and determined eyes stare into hers.
"We have to finish this case", he states.
Zoë sighs, she knows it won't do no good. "Dean…"
"No, don't object. We have to finish it. Maybe, maybe he'll miraculously snap out of it, I don't know. But I'm gonna pull every string here to get him back", he returns fierce.
He steps closer to her and points his finger at Sam. "That, right there, is my little brother. The only person in the world I am responsible for, my family".
"I know", Zoë assures. "But finishing this case isn't going to help. I already lifted Sam's curse".
"I can hope for a miracle, can't I?", Dean asks her. "I'm not gonna sit on my ass and do nothing. Sam and I, we only just started to get along again, like the old days. I'm not gonna let go of that, not now".
She has to say, he's got willpower. There's absolutely no cause, but she would have done exactly the same thing for her sister Abigail if this situation had ever occurred. So she agrees with him.
"I'll talk to Tate Hamill. He knows everything about everything in his gallery, he might be able to help", Zoë offers. "What are you gonna do?"
"I dunno, make some calls", he makes up quickly.
Under the circumstances, she decides to accept that vague answer. "Alright. If anything comes up, call me".
He nods and watches her leave the room. For a second he waits until she's out of sight, than he looks over at his brother. With a deep sigh he sets foot to the door himself and silently exits Sam's room. He can hear Zo and this Tate guy talk in the waiting room, but he can leave the floor unseen. In the elevator he takes out his cell phone and as he moves down quickly, he looks up his Dad's phonenumber. As he walks out of the hospital through the main entrance, he places the call. Restless he waits, listening to the beep that rings in his ear every now and then, until the phone switches to voicemail.
"This is John Winchester…
"Crap!", Dean curses.
Not that he expected anything less, Dad never picks up the phone. But as he said to Zoë before, he's hoping for a miracle here. Impatiently he waits till the message is finished.
"… If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235".
A beep sounds and Dean swallows with difficulty before he starts to talk. Even now that he really has to say something, he's not sure what's best, he knows he won't find the right words, but he has to try anyway. Oh well, here goes.
"Dad?", he starts. "I know I left you messages before… I'm not even sure if you get them, but… something happened to Sam, somethin' bad. He's in hospital, Massachusetts General in Boston, and the doctors, they say they can't save him".
He pauses, trying to keep his voice under control. "The thing is, I don't know what to do. I tried so hard to protect him, Dad, but I couldn't stop this".
Tears fill his eyes as he looks up to the sky, trying to prevent a tear from rolling down his cheek.
"So, whatever you're doing, if you could get here… Please. Last time the three of us were together you and Sam didn't hit it off that well and I though you might wanna, you know… see him".
Failing to keep a grip on himself, he stares into the distance, he knows his soft sobbing will be hearable on the message, but he can't help himself.
"I need your help, Dad", he admits. "I'm sorry".
For a second he considers to say more, but he just can't get anything else out of his mouth. So he hangs up and angrily wipes the tear away that managed to find its way down his cheek. There, he said it. The cat's out of the bag and he knows Dad's gonna kill him if he'll ever run into him again. He says if, for a reason. What he's about to do is stupid, foolish, but he is desperate, just like Zoë was five years ago. He walks over to the parking lot, which seems deserted at this hour. Determined he opens the trunk of his beloved Impala, takes out a steel case and gathers some black cat's bones, herbs and other ingredients in it. Then he takes out a fake ID card and throws it in as well. He stops in his tracks. Dean, what the hell are you doing! Sam doesn't want you to go to hell for him, you looked those God damn hell monsters right in the face and you're actually considering this? Still, there's one other voice in his head that seems stronger, the voice of John. I want you to look after Sammy, he's your first priority. If anything ever happens to Sam… Dad never finished that line, he didn't have to. Dean knows what needs to be done, he knew it then and he knows it now. He glances over the top of his car at The Hill Tavern across the street, which is still open at this hour. Then he puts the tin case in his pocket and crosses the street. Before he goes to find himself a crossroad, he'd better have a drink first. Because one way or the other, this is going to be a very long and unpleasant night.