Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry everyone, for taking so long to update! RL has been nuts. I had final exams and graduated university and am trying to join the Navy.....so not much time for writing. But here's the next chapter. Chapter 11 will be two weeks in coming, at least. I won't have time to do it before that. But anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine *le sigh*
Bright sunlight was streaming in through the window when Sam opened his eyes, taking a minute to blink everything in focus. A warm hand in his reminded him that Dean was back and he smiled slowly, stopping at a small grimace when his dry, chapped lips pulled painfully. He looked across the small space between the beds and contented himself with watching Dean sleep while Dr. Lacey moved quietly around him. Dean's face was relaxed and contented with no evidence he was in any pain. He looked so much younger in his sleep, Sam thought. Peaceful like he didn't look when he was awake and with a vulnerability he wouldn't normally let people see.
When Dr. Lacey looked over and saw he was awake, he smiled. "Good morning. Feeling better?" he asked, setting down Dean's chart and coming over to his bed.
Sam just nodded yes since his throat was too dry to talk and obediently rolled onto his back with only a small grunt of pain when the doctor prompted him too. He didn't want to; it felt too good to be lying on his side after three weeks on his back. It surprised him it didn't hurt as much as he knew it should to move, though it hurt more than it probably should too, and he wasn't fuzzy or confused. The past few days even the slightest movement had hurt like hell. He gave the doctor a questioning look.
"We cut down on your pain medication. I figured you'd be willing to let us give you something now that Dean is back, but Sister Mary Catherine explained things to me. It's not enough to make you say things the drugs confuse you into thinking you mean. You'll be a little sleepy but your mind should stay much clearer than before." He patted Sam's leg kindly and did his check-up while he talked.
"How's Dean?" Sam asked when Dr. Lacey finished with him and moved back to the older Winchester brother, finishing the exam he had been doing when Sam had woken.
"I'll know more after some x-rays and an MRI to check his head but I think he's going to be ok." He paused and gave Sam a long look tinged with considerable worry. Behind him Sam saw Sister Mary Catherine enter with their breakfast. "Any idea how your brother got these injuries? He was fine when he left the hospital, I know that."
There wasn't really anything he could say; he didn't know what his friends or Dean had told the doctor, and he didn't want to lie, to either Dr. Lacey or Sister Mary Catherine. He and Dean had come to like both of them immensely so it wouldn't be fair to lie. Yet he couldn't tell them the truth either, so he'd settle for being vague. "We have a pretty rough job. That's why he had to leave, he said so last night. He probably got a bit banged up."
Dr. Lacey seemed to buy the explanation, nodding and going back to examining Dean, who was starting to wake up. Groaning, the older hunter blinked open his eyes, cringing against the light and blinking a few more times before focusing on Sam. "Sammy? You ok?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
Sam nodded tiredly with a faint smile, squeezing Dean's hand that was still held in his. Trust Dean to ask about him before anything else. "I'm ok, Dean. Now that you're back." He wasn't ok, not after what he'd said to his brother, but there was plenty of time to say he was sorry later.
Dean squeezed back and stared at him for a few minutes while Dr. Lacey finished checking him over, looking like he was trying to formulate a response to Sam's chick-flick moment. Sam had thought he'd get a snarky comment back but it didn't come. It was getting creepy how emotional and open Dean had been lately. He vowed they'd talk about that later too.
Finally, Dr. Lacey stepped back and smiled. "Looks like you're going to make it Dean. I'm going to send you down to radiology for an MRI and some x-rays to find out what's up with your back and chest. I suspect you've got a couple of broken ribs, and I want to see about your knee too." As the doctor spoke an orderly walked in with a gurney. "Ah, and speak of the devil."
Letting go of Dean was easier this time knowing that he would be back, and after a brief squeeze Sam let Dean's hand drop, watching as his brother was transferred to the gurney and wheeled out of the room. Sister Mary Catherine stayed with him, setting a bowl of oatmeal and some juice down and helping him eat as much as he could, which only ended up being a few mouthfuls. Then, with an admonishment to drink all the juice he was left alone. His eyes quickly closed as exhaustion pulled him under again.
It was four hours later before Dean was brought back in, his eyes drooping at half mast and his wrist encased in another cast. Sam gave him a good look-over once Dean was back in his bed, propped up again by pillows. The lazy smile that was much too big to be real, and which Dean gave everyone, was a clear indication that the elder Winchester was doped up on the good stuff. His knee was also tightly wrapped in an ace bandage, the bumpy marks of wrappings showed on the front of his hospital gown around his chest and his face was a little bruised, but otherwise he looked fine.
Dr. Lacey followed the gurney in and smiled at Sam. "Dean will be fine. He's got two cracked ribs on the front and two bruised on the back, but his wrist hasn't been damaged anymore and his knee is just sprained." Doing a quick check to make sure Dean was comfortable he gave Sam a pat on the leg before slipping out.
Sighing in relief Sam stared at his brother, watching as his eyes slowly closed before letting his own do the same, following Dean into sleep.
~* ~~ ~*~ ~~ *~
"Come on, Sam. Just a few more steps and you can go back to bed."
Sam groaned and resisted the urge to tell Sister Mary Catherine what she could do with those few steps. He was pretty sure channelling Dean again and insulting a nun wouldn't get him any brownie points, especially not with this particular nun.
"Yeah, Sammy, just a couple more steps. Mark and Josh are having fun." Dean's annoyingly perky voice made Sam grit his teeth and send his brother a look that told him exactly what he could do with himself. He would have given Dean a visual suggestion except he was sandwiched between Mark and Josh, two burly orderlies that were helping him walk across the room and back. And Sister Mary Catherine was in the room. She'd caught him flipping Dean off the day before and threatened to break his fingers if he did it again. Dean's laughter and joking comment about Nurse Ratchet meets the holy oath had earned him boxed ears and no coffee until he was released, pure torture for Dean Winchester.
It had been three days since Dean had returned, and while they hadn't talked about what had happened Sam knew they would. Dean had made it clear that they would talk eventually but until then both brothers had fallen back into their usual banter while they concentrated on recovering, though Dean was still being unusually affectionate and gentle. Sam usually woke up with his brother's hand in his and sometimes Dean's fingers carding gently through his hair, and twice more he'd felt his brother brush a kiss across his forehead when Dean thought he was asleep.
He'd finally had the surgery for his liver and Dr. Lacey had pronounced it a success, the small bleed stopped completely. His abdomen was doubly tender, and his new stitches were painful and itchy, but he didn't mind them.
Currently Dean was sitting in a chair in the corner, dressed and with a burger in his hand, having been released only a couple of hours previously. A cane rested against the wall beside him and his leg was stuck out in front of him, bulky bandages stretching his jeans tight.
Gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the fact that he was wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown while two large guys had their arms wrapped around him, Sam forced his left leg to support as much of his weight as possible. He swung his casted right leg forward, cringing when it thunked on the floor sending a jolt of pain up his damaged limb. With Mark and Josh's help he moved his left leg forward, shuffling along at a snail's pace until, four agonizing steps later, he was being eased gently back onto the bed.
Walking across the room and back had been a lot harder than he'd expected it to be, he thought miserably as Sister Mary Catherine pushed a syringe of painkillers into his IV. Flopping back onto the bed, he watched through half closed eyes while Dean and the nursing sister settled him back in. He didn't have the energy to help them. His leg was settled back onto the pillows and he was swiftly wiped down and put into a clean, non-sweaty gown, having thoroughly soaked the first one with the effort of taking only a few steps.
"Now, you rest and get some of your energy back, you did good sweetie." Sister Mary Catherine praised him, patting his arm. "I'll be back with some dinner for you in an hour or so."
Once the nursing sister was out of the room, Dean stood up and limped his way out of the corner, climbing up and sitting on Sam's bed at his brother's knees. "You ok?" he asked with a worried frown.
Opening his eyes Sam nodded. "Yeah, just tired. Didn't think it'd be so hard to walk across the room." He couldn't help the hint of annoyance in his voice. Dr. Lacey said he was healing very well considering his injuries and the strain so much damage was putting on his system, but he'd been in the stupid hospital for three and a half weeks already and was only out of bed for the third time. He still wore a catheter and oxygen cannula and two IVs, he had trouble keeping down more than a few mouthfuls of food at a time, and his gut killed, not to mention his bruises were only half healed. That had worried him the most, but he'd been told the severity of them meant it would take longer than usual for them to heal.
"Relax, Sammy. Dr. Lacey said you're doing great, you just have to be patient. You almost died, dude, it's not like you can get up and walk away from that in a couple of days," Dean spoke with the unusually gentle tone he'd been using lately, whenever Sam started to get frustrated, and it helped. Sam found himself relaxing into the bed, closing his eyes and sighing.
"I know, but I'm getting sick of being in a hospital. I swear I'm gonna sign myself out if he doesn't spring me soon," Sam groused halfheartedly. He knew Dean would never allow it even if he wanted to. "It's boring in here. If we stay much longer I'm gonna start putting pictures up and choosing paint colours for the walls."
The drugs were starting to take effect and while they were nowhere near as strong as they had been before they were combining with his exhaustion to pull him under. His words slurred towards the end, and he fumbled around until his hands touched the fuzzyness of the grizzly bear. Pulling it towards him, Sam wrapped his arm around it before fumbling again. He met Dean's hand as his brother settled something heavy and warm over him. Knowing what it was immediately Sam grabbed a fistful of the leather jacket and held onto it as his eyes drifted closed.
~* ~~ ~*~ ~~ *~
Watching Sam fumble around for the leather coat, after having found his grizzly, Dean smiled and reached for the garment lying on the end of the bed. He draped it over Sam and watched as Sam grabbed a handful of it before he fell asleep. Over the past week and a half, since Sam had woken up from the coma, he hadn't gone to sleep without the bear or coat. Not even the three days Dean had been gone, he'd been told. They had become comfort items for his little brother, which he thought was adorable, not that he'd ever tell anyone he thought that. He still didn't think Sam realized it, though. The younger Winchester hadn't given any indication that he'd noticed falling asleep holding the coat and bear and waking up practically cuddling them to his chest. Dean couldn't wait until Sam noticed, actually, and realized what he'd been doing. It would be priceless; he could picture the embarrassment on Sam's face already.
Grinning, he tugged the coat up a little higher when Sam shivered slightly in his sleep. The kid had been cold constantly since waking up, a side effect of the stress put on his body, Dr. Lacey had said, as well as one of the medications that he was on that apparently caused chills. It sucked for Sam, big time, he thought, in the air conditioned hospital.
He was paying so much attention to his brother he didn't notice the door open or the soft pad of sensible shoes across the floor. It was a shock when something slapped the back of his head and a voice demanded "What are you doing on that bed, young man? I've told you to stay off it! They're made for one, not two!"
Turning and sending Sister Mary Catherine a mock grimace, then smiling when he saw the humour in the woman's eyes, he shrugged. "Just making sure Sam has his blankie and teddy bear before bedtime." He replied.
Sister Mary Catherine set the tray she was carrying on the table beside the bed. "Well, I'll let him sleep a little longer then, it hasn't been more than half an hour since I left last. I've brought him some broth and pudding, try to get him to eat as much as he can." She held out a second pudding cup and spoon with a fond smile and a conspiratorial wink. "It's chocolate today, so here you go. Don't tell the other patients I snuck you some."
"Sister, I love you." Dean cracked, taking the pudding and spoon and grinning. After a minute his grin faded and he turned serious. "He's still cold all the time."
"It's ok, his body will be a little out of sync for a while yet. It's the same as the low fevers he's run twice already. His body just isn't sure what's what right now. I'll bring another blanket for him." The nun gave Dean a reassuring pat on the arm. "Don't worry honey, he's doing fine. We're all proud of how well Sam's recovery is going. He's moving along much better than a lot of people with the injuries he has would be."
A little reassured Dean watched Sister Mary Catherine leave. Turning around and scooting up so he was leaning beside Sam on the bed, he grabbed the remote for the TV and set it to Stargate Atlantis, then leaned back and dug into his pudding.
It was three hours later before Sam showed signs of waking. Another nun had come in and taken away the broth, returning only a few minutes before with a fresh bowl so it would be warm when Sam was ready to eat it.
"Hey, about time Princess, nice of you to grace me with your presence." Dean joked when Sam's eyes opened. He stood up from the chair, having long since switched positions from the bed when his ribs protested the way he was lying, and moved the tray of food over his brother's lap. "Dinner has been waiting for you, broth and pudding. And dude, its chocolate."
Sam just stared sleepily for a few minutes before nodding. "Sure, Dean." He let Dean raise the head of his bed a little more and let his brother spoon the broth into his mouth. The process was slow, taking almost an hour since he had to stop and let his stomach settle, but Dean could see the determination to eat all the food. If he couldn't eat properly he wouldn't be allowed to leave.
Eventually he managed to get all the broth and half the pudding down, along with half the cup of apple juice before shaking his head to indicate he couldn't eat anymore.
"You did good, Sam. More than you've eaten so far." Dean moved the tray away, setting it by the door where the nurse would look for it when she came in to check on Sam and record what he'd eaten. "How's your stomach?"
Sam had fallen back onto the bed and closed his eyes, one hand pressed to his stomach. "Not bad, I'm not gonna puke this time." He replied after a few tense seconds in which Dean was sure Sam was going to bring everything he'd eaten back up. He could tell it was only sheer determination that kept him from doing it.
Relief washed over him and he grinned. "Good, 'cause dude, that last time was a really nasty Linda Blair. I mean, seriously, you almost hit the wall."
Sam cracked one eye and glared at him. "Dean, go to sleep, would you? I did not projectile vomit. I'm tired and sore and really want to go back to sleep, so do you mind?"
Sam's snarky comments had stopped bothering Dean, so he just shrugged and pulled himself up onto the opposite bed, resting against the pillows with a sigh. They'd told him he could use the extra bed when it became clear neither brother was willing to be separated again. "Sure, Sam. Goodnight."
