Alright…so Friday I was afraid I was going to die. Then Saturday I was afraid I wasn't. I hate being sick!! My dearest friend thinks I have pneumonia…I don't think it's that bad. Anyway…sickness make it hard to write. I think it starts out bad and ends up good or maybe it's the other way around. You tell me!! Thanks the reviews and well wishes! Keep reading and reviewing! You rock!!!
He lives this life for the ones he loves. Fighting a fight he never got to choose weather or not he wanted to be part of. Sleeping in disgusting motel rooms, drinking in shady bars, leaning into warm women he didn't know, getting his ass handed to him by things no one else believed in. He does it all because no one asked. No one asked because it's his purpose for being.
"Hello?"
"Sam, It's me", Johns gruff voice came over the line, timid and afraid of his son's response.
"Dad", Sam jumped in his skin, expecting the call but surprised to hear his fathers voice all the same. "Where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Sam. I'm with Jefferson and a few others. How are you boys? I've been calling, trying to get through, but there was a storm and I couldn't get a signal, then your line was busy". He wasn't trying to make excuses but he figured Sam would take it as a pile of just that.
"I've been calling you Dad", Sam looked over at Dean then turned and left the room, "It's not good".
"What? What's not good Sammy?" Concern laced John's voice.
"The edema came back…or it never went away. I'm not really sure. Dean's back in the hospital. He uh, he had surgery yesterday to start relieving the pressure in his head. But there are complications Dad", Sam deadpanned. "He needs you here Dad".
"Is he…" Johns voice trailed.
"No, Dad, no. He has some temporary paralysis, but he's okay." Sam stopped and realized that his father had pulled one on him when he answered the phone. "Where are you Dad?"
"I told you I'm with Jefferson", John dodged.
"So you're in Houma", Sam tried to clarify, giving his father the opportunity to come clean.
"No", John took a deep breath, "We're in Texas. We're on its tail Sammy".
"No Dad". Sam pulled his free hand through his hair and clenched his teeth. "You can't do this now. You need to come back here, he needs you to be here right now. We both need you to be here right now." Sam knew he was pleading, not that it was anything new to him. He had lost count of the hours he spent as a boy pleading with John to let them stay in one town, the hours he spent pleading with God to send Jessica back to him, and recent hours he had spent pleading with Dean to hold on and fight and not leave him here alone.
"Sammy, I'm close. It's here in town and I know we can get it this time. I can't just leave now", John would never admit it, but he was pleading too.
Sam took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to stay calm and not blow his top in the middle of the ICU. "Dad he's your son. So I'm going to tell you the same thing you told me. If you leave, you stay gone… I'm giving you twenty-four hours to make your decision. If you're not here by this time tomorrow, don't bother showing up at all, we won't be taking visitors".
"Sam", John's voice was soft and determined.
"No Dad. It's time for you to man up and make this decision".
They both fell silent and Sam was ready to hang up when he heard his father again. "Can I talk to your brother now?"
"Hang on". Sam went back into Dean's room and held his hand over the phone. "Do you want to talk to Dad?"
Dean looked down at the blankets on his bed and studied them carefully, as though he would find an answer somewhere in the cotton. "Teh heem I aseep". Dean wanted to talk to his father but there was no way he'd understand a word that came out of his mouth or the pain he felt in his heart.
Sam nodded and pulled the phone to his ear. "He's asleep Dad. No, I'll tell him when he wakes up. Yeah, bye Dad". Sam hung up the phone and looked at his brother.
No one said anything, but part of Dean knew and he closed his eyes.
"Alright boys", Bobby stood and broke the silence, "I'm gonna head back to the house. You've got the number, so call me if you need anything, I'll try to get back here tomorrow".
Sam turned and offered his hand. Bobby returned the gesture and shook Sam's hand, squeezing it as tight as he could.
"Thanks Bobby", he muttered.
"Yeah, tanks Baa-eeh", Dean added.
Bobby smiled and felt the warmth that had left the room filling his chest. "No problem boys, like I said, family is family". He didn't give either Winchester a chance to respond, just walked out, ready to rip John a new one when he found him.
Sam sat down and was about to try to talk to Dean about the phone call when a thin black woman in pink scrubs walked into the room holding a tray.
"I'll just leave this here", she set the food down on the table and took the remnants of breakfast with her, all smiles and quick movements.
Dean looked at the tray as though it were his enemy.
"Lunch", Sam chirped. "Let's see what you got". He took the top off and started to survey it's contents. Broth, mashed potatoes, jello, milk, apple juice, and a tall cup. Sam eyed the food and felt his stomach jump. He did not want to repeat the scene from breakfast…it had obviously bothered Dean.
"Alright", Sam looked at Dean, "What do you want?"
Dean turned his eyes away from his brother. "Nah hun ree".
"Dude, you're always hungry". Then a protest, "I know you".
Dean couldn't deny it. He ate more than a fourteen year old boy going through a growth spurt. And he really was hungry, but he couldn't stomach being fed like an infant again.
"Whas da", his eyes focused on the cup.
"I don't know". Sam picked up the cup and took off the top. He looked at the thick white substance inside then lifted it to his nose. He sniffed and when he didn't detect anything offensive he put it to his lips and tasted.
Dean stared, hoping it wasn't something degrading like ensure or baby formula. Then Sam smiled.
"It's a milkshake or a protein shake or something. It's good".
Dean looked at him with bright eyes and cocked his eyebrow. "Ow". Yeah, that hurt. No more moving. "Gimme". He put out his hand.
Sam put the top back on and poked it with a straw then handed it to his brother. Dean gratefully took the cup and lifted it to his chest, sucking down the contents. He smiled. It was good and he was hungry.
Ten minutes and the whole thing was gone. Dean held the cup back out to Sam who accepted it and placed the empty container back on the tray.
"What else?" Sam asked.
"Done" was the only word Dean said before he closed his eyes. "You ea?"
"Yeah, I ate a little while ago", Sam pulled the tray out of the way and leaned forward. "Listen we gotta talk Dean".
"Hmmm", Dean did his best to urge Sam to continue, embarrassed still by the sounds coming from his mouth.
"Okay. I talked to Naylor about your…problem. He said they had to remove some dead tissue when they did the surgery and that's probably what's causing this".
Dean opened his left eye.
"He thinks that you should be able to go through some rehab and get through this fine. I think we should stay here when they release you and do the therapy here. Ya know, where they know all the circumstances".
Sam stopped and waited for some protest or dispute. Any sign that the old Dean was in there, locked and loaded, fists tight, cocky comeback. The Dean he knew before the demon attack and the car crash and the edema.
Dean closed his eye, "Bain dea".
"No, your not brain dead, you moron", Sam laughed and Dean grinned. The grin was crooked and weak, but it made Sam's heart surge.
"Bish", Dean muttered.
Sam laughed louder, "Jerk".
But Dean's face changed and his breathing got slower. "Wha abou Da?"
Sam didn't want to tell Dean, but part of Dean already knew Dad hadn't agreed to come, and Sam knew that. So he ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath.
"Dad's with Jefferson in Texas. He found the demon and he wants to go after it". Sam felt his anger and rage rising to the surface. His blood boiling. "I asked him to come, then I told him to come", he looked away from his brother. "I told him he had a day to get here and that if he didn't show by tomorrow not to come at all".
Dean's breaths were coming fast and his heart rate picked up. The heart monitor started to beep and Dean closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself. Sam stood up and put a hand on Dean's chest.
"Relax Dean. Just relax".
"He wen affer eeh?" He huffed and breathed hard against the oxygen being forced into his body. "He's gun gee kill. Why den you sta heem? Sam? Why de you te heem to say gone?" His head was pounding and his heart was racing, the beeping monitors and the weight of Sam's hand on him, not helping the situation.
"Dean, you gotta calm down man. Just try to breathe okay? You gotta relax", Sam pled.
But Dean's eyes squeezed tightly closed and his chest heaved, all the motion making his head hurt more.
Two nurses and Naylor burst through the door, pushing Sam out of the way.
"Dean?" Naylor was barking, rubbing a hand on Dean's chest, "Dean can you take a deep breath for me?"
He tried. But he was so…just so. He counted to ten and blew all the air out of his lungs.
"Good, good. Just take some deep breaths for me, okay?" Naylor reached behind him took the oxygen mask from the nurse. He pulled the tube from Dean's nose and put the mask over his mouth. "Just take deep breaths. Are you in pain?"
Dean could only let a muffled whimper.
"Okay, we're going to give you something, okay? Just keep taking deep breaths".
Naylor turned to the nurse behind him and gave an order for meds, then turned to Sam, leaving Dean in the care of his staff.
"What happened Sam?" Naylor asked, almost accusingly.
Sam couldn't look away from Dean. "We…we were talking about our Dad and he got upset and he just… Jesus, is he okay?"
"Ya know, I didn't think I had to say anything, but maybe I should have. You cannot let him get upset or worked up like that", Naylor huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "You understand me?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry". Sam sat down, the light fading from his eyes, fear and disgust replacing it. 'I did it wrong. I hurt Dean and…Christ. I should've stopped Dad. It's my fault'. The self deprecating pity party was in full swing.
"Dean? That should help. I want you to try to relax, okay? No more stress for today, alright?" Naylor patted him on the chest then shot Sam a look as he followed the nurses out of the room.
Sam slowly walked to Dean's bedside and stood in his line of vision. "Dean?" He urged.
"Go", Dean mumbled under the oxygen.
"Dean, I told you I'm not going anywhere. It's not the deal we made".
"You toll Da to say gun. I whan to be a wone. Peas jus leaf". The oxygen mask fogged when Dean spoke.
"Come on Dean. I know. I know I screwed up. But it'll all work out, I swear. Please Dean just give it a chance", Sam was begging again. Begging for mercy from his brother for his misguided actions.
"I tire Sam. Jus go". Dean closed his eyes and effectively closed himself off from his brother.
Sam could do nothing. He turned and left his brother alone in the quiet he demanded. He walked into the hallway and stopped, leaning one shoulder against the wall. He didn't know where to go or what to do, but he did know that if he didn't make this right, he'd lose both his father and his brother.
Bobby got out of his truck and slammed the car door hard. He had spent too much time helping Johnny and caring for those boys to let him tear apart what was left of the family. He stalked into the house and threw his keys on the table. Cletus bound into the room but stopped short of Bobby, smelling the anger on his master. Bobby shot him a look and he whimpered and ran back out of the building.
"Alright", Bobby picked up the phone and dialed John's number, counting and taking deep breaths as it rang.
"Yeah", John answered.
"What's your damage Winchester? Your son tells you his brother is in the hospital hooked up to machines, a tube coming out of his head, paralyzed…and you go on a hunt? Are you insane? I mean, have you been diagnosed?" He only stopped ranting to catch his breath.
"Bobby, listen", John started only to be cut off.
"No you listen to me jack ass! Your oldest boy is bad off. The worst I've ever seen him. And Sam? Sam is falling apart. He is trying so hard to hold it all together, but it ain't easy for the boy, and there is only so much an old junk man can do. So you put your ass in that truck and come back here before this whole damn thing comes crashing down on all of us".
John's heart was breaking. He had to make a choice, make a move. Dean wasn't dying. He was in good hands…he had doctors and nurses and Sam and Bobby. And John knew he had to do this now or he would lose more than he could replace.
"I have to do this Bobby. I have to get it before it get's him. I can't lose Sammy". John's words were almost tearful.
"What are you talking about? Lose Sam?" Bobby was honestly confused.
Deep breath. "Sammy is different. He has a gift. There are a lot of others like him with these gifts. He gets these visions of people suffering and dying. And he uses them to stop tragedies, to help people. But this Demon wants him to use them for dark things. He's after Sam. He'll turn him or kill him. And if he turns him he'll be just like the things he's hunted his whole life, and he wouldn't want to live that way." John took a breath that the heaven's could feel and hear, "And I'll have to kill him Bobby. Kill my baby boy".
Bobby didn't know what to say. He wanted to believe that John Winchester had finally inhaled too much incense or drank gun oil. Maybe hit his head hard enough this time. It sounded so far fetched…visions and demons and death. But then as the initial shock wore off, it all made perfect sense. The fire in 83', the hunting, the obsession, the rise in possessions, John's abduction, the crash.
"Do Sam and Dean know all of this?" Bobby asked warily.
"Some. Not all", John replied. "They know the visions are connected to the demon. They know it's why Mary and Sam's girlfriend died. Sam knows the demon wants him for some reason. But the rest I haven't told them and they haven't figured it out".
"John", Bobby broke in, "What are you going to do? Exorcise the damn thing? Send it back to hell to piss it off and give it time to regroup and build strength?"
"No. I'm gonna use The Colt and I'm going to kill it. Stop what's coming and save Sam's life. Save Dean's life".
"What do you mean save Dean's life", Bobby wasn't getting it, wasn't putting all the pieces together.
"That yellow eyed freak tried to kill Dean once already. He knows Dean will do anything to save Sam, so Dean will be the first one it targets when it comes for Sammy".
The line fell silent as both men let the weight of the situation hang in the air.
"I've go to do this Bobby. It's not about avenging Mary's death anymore. It's about saving my children. I just need you to hold them together till I can finish this…till I can explain and make amends for what I have done to their lives".
"Okay, okay. I'll do what I can John, but this isn't going to be easy. They are your boys after all. They come with the Winchester chin and the Winchester stubbornness. But I'll do what I can".
Everything was fuzzy and his whole body felt heavy. Drugs are quick. He knew he should be sleeping, enjoying the break from his pain and taking solace in the darkness, but he couldn't. He had closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, shifted his ass in the bed. But nothing helped. Even with the pain meds coursing through him, for the first time in weeks, Dean just couldn't sleep.
Green eyes peeked from under soft lashes. He couldn't move his head, so he shifted his eyes instead. He looked around the room, wanting to see one of them there, knowing neither would be. He was in no physical pain, needed no one to run in and save him, no one to fill him with drugs, or whisper untruths about it'll all be okay. He just needed a break from all the things that were happening, all the things being said and done and forced.
To the left was a small window that offered a view of the parking garage and a wisp of the tiny hamlet the hospital resided in. And when he focused through the blur of his vision he could see the frost on the window. He stared harder and he could see the snow falling outside. He'd always liked snow. It was pure and soft and it comforted him, forcing him to remember his mother on his fourth birthday, all wrapped up in a soft blue parka, throwing fallen snow in the air so it would cascade around him.
He missed her. More than Sammy ever would. More than Dad could understand. He wished she was around now, here to hold his hand and warm the room with her smile. But it was just a pipe dream. So he looked away from the snow and thought of Sam. He knew that Sam was doing the best he could, hiding his own fears and discomfort and trying to be the big brother in this situation. Facing that fact changed the anger Dean had felt. But it didn't change the fact that he wanted his father to be there where Dean could see to it that he was safe and not trying to take on things bigger than he could handle.
The hours were going by, the drugs were wearing off, and sleep was finally calling to Dean. Sam had done as he requested and left him alone in peace and quiet. Five hours ago. What Dean didn't know was that Sam was sitting in a chair just outside of his door, filled with resolve and making plans. Plans to stop worrying over the things and people he couldn't control and start taking action where he could.
"Excuse me?" Sam sat up straight and caught Dean's nurse lightly by the wrist.
"Yes", she looked down at the hand on her arm and back into the young man's eyes.
"I was wondering if you could help me". Sam pointed a thumb to Dean's door behind him and stated his case. "This guy is my brother and he's…well, he's a stubborn man. They have him on some kind of soft diet and I was hoping we could change that. You see, with the paralysis he can't feed himself and he won't let me do it and I'm afraid he's not eating enough. I was wondering if they could bring him some solid food he'd be willing to eat", Sam put on his puppy dog eyes and tried his best to sway the woman to his side.
She sighed and patted his hand on her arm, causing him to drop it. She looked at the name on the door and back at Sam. "Mr. McGulicuty, your brother is on a soft diet because of the paralysis. We don't want him to have an accident and maybe hurt himself".
Sam looked at her completely confused.
"I've seen it a hundred times", she started, "The patient cannot feel their tongue and when they try to eat they end up biting their tongue or their cheek and bleeding. It doesn't sound like that much of a problem, but it can be a set back and it can lead to infection".
"Okay". Sam blew out a hard breath, racking his brain for an answer. "What I need for you to do is make sure he gets things that he can eat without using utensils. I don't know what that might be, but at this point he's had milk, a shake, and some porridge, and he needs to be eating more than that".
The old Winchester charm cranked up and the loving brother puppy dog eyes turned on, the woman caved. "Alright. I'll talk to the doctor and the dietician and we'll see what we can get for him".
"Thank You". Sam stood and faced the door behind him. He looked at his watch. Five thirty. He had been gone long enough for Dean to calm down and sleep through his pain medication. He figured it would be safe to return, so he pushed the door and walked right in.
As expected, Dean was asleep and safe in his bed. Sam thought he looked younger when he slept…not pushing thirty and fighting off pushing up daisies. So Sam sat back in his chair, filled with resolve and excited to face a new day. Until dinner came.
Okay…let me first say I'm sorry this has taken so long. The fever comes and goes, as does my lucidity and the desire to be conscious!! But I'm getting better, so more should be coming. So yeah… I think this one could have been better, but cut a girl a break…I'm sick tries her own Sammy-esk puppy dog eyes By the by Heather...my neighbor really brought me peach pie and I thought of you!!
Please send me reviews…they keep me writing!! OH!! And in my stupor last night I decided how this thing is going to end…Some will love it some will hate it….and I'm rambling…happy hunting!! You guys rock my sox!!
