by: sifi
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"WHERE THE HELL ARE MY SONS!" the furious booming voice shook the bones of the unfortunate nurse who'd landed this shift.
"Mr. Stuart?" another nurse approached, grasping his elbow gently.
He nodded curtly.
"I'll take you to pediatrics… we'll bring you the paperwork to fill out there alright?" she nodded at the nurse at the station who put together a clipboard with the necessary forms on it.
"How are my boys?... What can you tell me?" he nearly choked on the words as she led him down the corridor.
His eyes were red and glassy, his face and hair damp with sweat and he could smell his own fear. Something had happened to his boys, something that landed his firstborn in the hospital and apparently in very bad shape.
When the nurse finished running down the list of traumas his son had suffered John leaned against the wall, his hands pressed hard and scrubbing his face, he felt dizzy and really needed to sit down, but he needed to see his boys with his own eyes even more.
"Oh God… please…" he muttered behind his hand while he collected himself just outside the door to Dean's room. "Sammy's with him?" he asked.
The nurse nodded grinning sheepishly, "Nothing and no one could tear him away… Sarah tried to bring him home with her but he wouldn't have it…" she smiled and patted the man's shoulder, "It's going to be hard to see him like that Mr. Stuart, but just remember, he's going to be fine… it's just going to take some time, and don't forget, either talk to him on the left side or straight ahead… for the time being he's not going to be able to hear very well on the right."
John nodded, took a moment to sniff back his tears, scrubbed his face briskly and forced himself to stand as straight as he could before striding into the room. His head cocked to the side and the tears threatened again as he took in the sight of his youngest curled around his big brother's unfettered left side, his arm protectively wrapped all the way over his belly and his head smashed between his arm and chest wall. Then John saw the tubes, lines, and cords that were coming from his son and felt the world tilt under his feet. He clutched at the doorjamb while the nurse zipped past him, moved the chair to the bedside and guided him into it.
He smiled gratefully, choking on his heart, his hand vibrating like a guitar string as he reached out, wanting to, but almost afraid to touch his eldest who lay sleeping through the drugs in his system.
"Oh God…" he breathed, "…my boys…" he was up in a flash, around to the far side of the bed where he sat and twisted so he lay gently across his two sons, one hand on either of them, stroking their hair while tears re-wet his face. He didn't care, these were his boys, everything in the world to him that mattered was laying here.
"No! I won't leave!" Sam tossed himself into John protesting before he could come fully awake. His eyes opened and his jaw dropped in disbelief, "Dad?!"
John pressed his lips together, unable to speak at all. He nodded and gasped when Sam's arms came tight around his neck and squeezed like there was no tomorrow. Never before had he been so grateful for a hug that choked him blue.
"They tried to make me go, and they took him away from me for a while… they had to operate… and took out his pendix, they said it popped… it was an ogre dad… it kicked him and it broke him… he was kind of okay before that but then he couldn't breathe… and he had blood coming out of his mouth like that time you did… and they wouldn't let me stay with him, but they made a hole and they said if I promised not to go on his right I could stay with him… I think Pastor Jim told them to let me stay…" he stopped and gasped for a breath then sighed such a sadly grown up sound it made John wince through his sad, shaky smile.
He watched as Sam turned toward Dean and brushed his hair off his face, "He opened his eyes once already… they said he'll wake up by tonight…"
"You did good Sammy… you did real good…" John smiled holding back his tears, this time of pride as he looked into his baby's blue-greens, "…I need you to tell me everything you know…from how this started, right up to now okay?... can you do that?" he asked.
Sam nodded and blew a shank of bang out of his eye as if relaying the story once more was such a chore, but this time he didn't have to worry about hiding the truth about Sandy's dad. This time he could tell the whole story.
--
I'll be back as soon as I can Sammy… you keep an eye on your brother, John thought pressing his lips to Sam's forehead before gazing at his eldest and running a hand down the dry, peeling skin of his cheek, Dean… you just rest and heal dude… I love you son… and I promise I'm gonna get that son of a bitch… he leaned over and kissed the fevered face before pushing himself off the bed and walking purposefully to the nurses station.
"I'll be back shortly, Sam's with his brother… the family pastor is on his way," he informed the duty nurse and strode down the corridor before questions could be asked.
How did you know he was an ogre? John heard the conversation with his youngest replay in his head, 'Sandy said he was…'
Did he look any different?
Sam shook his head, No, he just looked like a big mean, stupidhead! Dad that's not what's m'portant… he had Dean and he was hurting him! It didn't matter who he was but it's okay, he's the one who's hurt now… the steel burned him up real bad in places.
I'm proud of you Sammy… you did real good looking after your big brother… he ruffled his hair and hugged him tight, his heart glowing warmly with all the love he had for both of his boys. You don't have any reason to feel proud John… Dean's the one who inspired that kind of loyalty in Sam… NOT you… Oh God my boy could've been killed and all I can think about is hunting that son of a bitchin' thing down and killing it! It needs to be killed! That thing can NEVER be allowed to hurt another kid! NEVER!... Oh that's convenient John… that way you don't have to see the accusation in Sam's eyes huh? That, 'Why weren't you there?' look… and what about Dean? What am I going to see on his face after the smile fades and he opens his eyes for more than five minutes… what am I going to see when he remembers that I wasn't there for him? … I don't know… I just have to make sure he understands WHY… that's the important thing… that he understands WHY this is so important… yeah… but he didn't feel any better as he crept stealthily toward the shack. Fortunately the Sheriff's search party had fanned out from this general area and it was currently unmonitored. The litter left behind by the forensics team told John all he needed to know for the moment. They were done here, and though it was a 'crime scene' as denoted by flapping yellow plastic banners, they most likely wouldn't be back any time soon.
Now was the time to learn what he could about this creature that had dared to lay its hands on John Winchester's son.
--
Over the last eight years John's Marine training had served him well, today was no exception. Wherever he found bits of flesh, blood, tattered remnants of clothes or any indication of what his son had been put through, it was that training that kept him from falling to his knees and cursing whatever powers there might be, hadn't his family been through enough?! Hadn't they survived their fair share?
But while it would have been convenient and just a little too easy to blame everything on the demon that shattered his family's life, or on God, or whatever, he had to admit and acknowledge his own part in the creation of the present. His obsession with finding and killing his wife's murderer, his growing need to eradicate as many unnatural and evil things out there that existed, to protect those ignorant innocents… he couldn't turn his back on them, just because they didn't know what was out there didn't mean it wasn't a danger to them. He knew if he turned his back on the fight, he'd be no better than those evils.
And of course, his boys, giving them all the tools they'd ever need to fight those evils when he was no longer around to do so, to protect the people who couldn't protect themselves, and to ensure that their own families wouldn't endure the same pains his had. These were his motivators, these were his reasons for doing what he did, they were the reasons his firstborn was laying in a hospital bed unconscious, traumatized horribly and quite possibly irreparably psychologically scarred. No… Dean is strong, he'll come out of this just fine… he's strong and…he's just a little boy…No! He's a young man now…He's MY SON… he's MY little boy…and someone hurt him… he'll be alright, he's got the strongest heart I've ever known…something hurt my son…he's my first blessing and someone hurt him… he shook his head forcing down all that conflict, forcing it into a place inside where it could rattle around and he wouldn't be weakened by it, a place where his love was safe and his boys were so much more than he and Mary had contributed to them, a place where he could force himself to function without those feelings of fatherly fear running the risk of tripping him up.
Don't you worry Dean… I'm gonna kill this son of a bitch for you! He'll never hurt anyone again! he vowed crouching before the stove, turning a patch of dark brown dirt that told him someone had bled here.
To his far right a rank and festering stink drew his attention to a plastic mop bucket, sneering distaste he peered over the edge, the bubble of stench, having been breached by his motion poked deep into his nose, a combination of ammonia and decay. He turned his head to the side and drew in a clean breath, holding it in his lungs and mouth he looked once again and grimaced. White squirming larvae salted the largely unidentifiable glut of putrescence and not even the flies seemed inclined to leave their disgusting little hunting ground. Are those?... Is that?... he wondered and looked from the four tracks he saw gouged into the slop, to his own cupped fingers, Yeah… something or someone scooped out handfuls of that shit... was no ogre though… small hands… a child's hands… his heart gave a horrible squeeze while his imagination ran away with him, Oh God my baby! What did that bastard do to you?... God help my little boy… he prayed for the moment forgetting that there had been a young girl, in the clutches of that same gleeful evil as his own son.
--
"Noh…nuhdunt…STOP IT!" Dean shouted gasping hard for breath. The buckles for the woolly padded restraints clanged against the frame of the bed while his hands flailed, trying to brush away those tiny gnawing teeth that were relentless in their quest for his innards.
"Dean?" Sam questioned softly while dabbing at his forehead with a cool cloth, "It's okay Dean… you're in the hospital… there's no rats here…"
His big brothers' eyes fluttered open then wafted closed before they came open again. Sam noticed Dean didn't seem to be registering his surroundings. He grabbed his big brother's face, one hand on either cheek and looked into his eyes until he felt him KNOW what he was looking at.
"No rats?" he questioned trying to look around, those buckles clanging again.
"No Dean, not here…"
"Don't be 'fraid Sammy…just don't let 'em bite you… it hurts…" Dean muttered looking around, not understanding why robots were surrounding him.
Sam shook his head while tears fell hard again from his eyes, his big brother, the one he could always count on for order and strength, the one who would never let him down was scaring him by not being able to see that he was okay now, Sam sniffed hard and shook his head, his lips no longer existent they were pressed so tightly together, "I won't..."
Dean's face crumpled and tears slid down the sides of his head, "I think…I think they're inside me Sammy… the rats got inside… don't let them inside you Sam… promise…" he mumbled reaching for Sam's head but the restraints keeping him just short.
Sam nodded and lowered his head so Dean's hand could cup his cheek. He was still sniffling back his tears and trying not to let his big brother see just how scared he was.
"…p..promise…"
He sniffed hard once more and steadied himself. He reciprocated the gesture with his own hand, "Don't worry Dean… they didn't get in you either… I'm making sure they don't… you can sleep again, I'll watch and make sure they don't get in you…"
"Really?" Dean slurred, his mouth turned up in a half smile with a spocked eyebrow to match.
"Really," Sam nodded.
"You're good brother runt… best…" he sighed then closed his eyes and let himself drift back to sleep while Sam sobbed. He was more scared now, by this altered state of mind, than he'd been in the presence of the ogre. Hurry up dad… kill that thing and get back here, Dean needs you…well okay… I do too… so hurry.
--
tbc.
Please R&R… am I doing the Winchester men justice? All of them? Let me know what you think okay? Please.