Broken Promises and Shattered Hearts Ch. 12

Disclaimer. See chapter one

Author's Note: Please remember I have no medical knowledge and forgive any errors in treatment or symptoms.

Previously: "But Sammy is out of da-danger right?" Dean asked, his concern for his brother skyrocketing as he listened to the words that Jefferson said to Bobby.

"I wish I could say yes Dean, but I just don't know. There is a small chance that Sam could suffer a stroke or heart attack as he goes through withdrawal from the stress it puts on his body and heart. Either way, Sam is definitely in for an extremely uncomfortable recovery." Jefferson answered as gently as possible

"But how can that be Doc? Sam wasn't missing long enough to become hooked on some damn drug. He was only gone for a few hours before we missed him. Sure, by the time we found him it was probably around six hours or so, but…" John trailed off as his mind tried to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

"John, I know it doesn't seem plausible, but a person can become addicted after only one dose depending on the type of drug, the amount used, the route of administration, and the individual themselves. It is possible that Sam could have a genetic pre-disposition to dependency and addiction," Jefferson informed the angst filled father as gently as he could.

"How long before we know that Sam is out of danger zone?" Bobby queried anxiously as he tugged his ball cap off his head and twisted it anxiously with his fingers. "I mean, what's the time frame here?"

"I wish I could answer that for you Bobby, but I just won't know until I get the results back from the bloodwork. It all depends on what Sam was given and the amount of the drug used," Jefferson answered as he placed a comforting hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"Hey Doc, not to interrupt you or anything, but I think Sammy is waking up," Dean stated hopefully as Sam began to squirm about a little on the hospital bed.

Focusing his attention on his youngest upon hearing Dean's words, John reached out to palm his son's sweaty cheek and then stroked it with his thumb. "Sammy, can you hear me, son? I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me, Tiger?," he inquired in a low voice.

"Da'ad?' Sam mumbled incoherently, fighting to open his eyelids which seemed to be cemented down for some reason.

"Yeah, it's me kiddo. I need you to open your eyes for me son," John reiterated as he grasped Sam's right hand in one of his and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Da'ad…hurts,' Sam whimpered breathlessly as he began to toss about a little more fretfully on the bed.

"What hurts, Sam?" Jefferson asked with concern as he stepped around to the other side of the bed where he could assess Sam better. He didn't like the way his patient was taking such shallow breaths.

'Ev-everything," Sam answered nervously, raising his hand to rub at his chest to help quell the pain he could feel building there. He wanted to say more, but his mouth was too parched and felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls. Licking his lips to wet them, he suddenly felt the rise of hot bile making it's way up his throat. "Si-sick," he groaned as his face took on a greenish hue.

Jumping into action immediately, Dean quickly rolled his baby brother onto his side just before vomit began to spew forcefully from Sam's mouth, his sibling struggling to breath as he was hit by wave after wave on unrestricted nausea. "S'okay kiddo, I've got you, just let it all out," Dean soothed in a calming voice as he rubbed circles on his little brother's back as Sam gagged on the bitter taste of vomit.

"De, som-something's wr-wrong," Sam gasped upon finishing, feeling a sense of unexplained dread just before his muscles stiffened, causing him to cry out as a seizure took hold and he lost control of his bladder.

"Sonuvabitch," Jefferson swore as a Grand mal seizure took hold of his young patient and Sam's body began to seize violently upon the bed. Moving Sam as gently as possible to the middle of the bed to keep him from falling off of it, Jefferson placed his hands on either side of Sam's head and cushioned it to kept it from jerking too badly.

"Jefferson, what the hell?" John gasped as he reached out to try and restrain Sam to keep his youngest from hurting himself.

"John stop!" Jefferson warned strongly as John grasped Sammy and started to apply pressure to hold him still. "You could do more harm than good by restraining Sam. I've got things handled," Jefferson stated as he supported Sam's head to keep it from banging on the hospital bed.

"But Jefferson, Sammy's hurting, you've got to do something," Dean yelled anxiously as he watched his brother thrashing about like a fish out of water. "Shouldn't you put something in his mouth before he bites his tongue off or worse?"

"Dean, I know it's looks scary and that you're worried about your brother, but if we put something in Sam's mouth, he could inhale it into his lungs or it could block his airway. And don't worry about him possibly swallowing his tongue, it's medically impossible." Jefferson told Dean, as Sam entered the clonic phase of seizing where his muscles started rhythmic contractions, alternately flexing and then relaxing.

"Surely you can give Sam something to keep him from seizing can't you?" John queried as he wrung his hands together, his nerves getting the better of him.

"That won't be necessary," Jefferson informed the concerned father. "Most seizures only last a couple of minutes and then subside on their own."

Breathing a sigh of relief as the convulsions began to stop with Jefferson's words, Dean was about to walk over to the small bathroom to get a washcloth and towel to clean his brother up when noticed Sam's eyes begin to roll in the back of his head. "Sonuvabitch, don't tell me it's about to happen again," Dean gasped uneasily, truly fearing for his brother's life.

"Calm down Dean, everything is fine. Sam is entering what we call a state of postictal sleep due to the sheer physical exhaustion the seizure put his body through," Jefferson placated as he placed a calming hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Posti-what?" John asked as he reached out to card his fingers through a slumbering Sam's hair.

"Postictal Sleep," Jefferson answered as he pulled his stethoscope from around his neck so that he could listen to Sam's heartbeat. "Basically, it's an altered state of consciousness that a person enters after suffering a seizure. It usually lasts anywhere from five to thirty minutes and leaves the victim feeling disoriented upon awaking."

"Is that the worse we can expect?" Bobby asked, a nagging suspicion telling him there was more than what Jefferson was telling.

"Well, along with the confusion, Sam could experience hypertension, migraines, or memory deficits as his brain recovers from the trauma of the seizure," Jefferson admitted somberly.

"Damn it, why can't the kid ever seem to get a freaking break for once," Dean swore as he walked over to the wall and punched it to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.

"I know it's hard, but you need to try and relax Dean. You don't want Sam to sense your anxiety. It could make things worse for him," John lightly chastised as he walked over to where his oldest was shaking out his fist and wrapped an arm around him. "He'll be okay Ace, you just got to give him some time to recover."

"I hope you're right Dad, because I've got some major apologizing to do. I really need to make things up to the kid for forgetting his birthday," Dean whispered as he took a deep, calming breath.

"Now, if you gentleman don't mind, I'd like for you to leave the room so I can fully assess Sam's condition, clean him up and do a rape kit on him just in case," Jefferson told the group of hunters as motioned them to towards the door.

"You're crazy as hell Doc, if you thinking I'm leaving my baby brother alone for even one minute after everything that's happened," Dean enunciated as he walked over and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Dean…"

"No Dad, I'm staying. I've already let the kid down once and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. He may wake up and need me while Jefferson is performing his assessment," Dean stated vehemently.

"It's okay John, he can stay," Jefferson voiced, giving his permission for Dean to be there while he evaluated Sam's condition. He didn't want to cause any more tension between the family than they were already feeling.

Knowing there was no use in arguing, John nodded his head giving consent for Dean to stay and then walked out the door, followed by Bobby. He couldn't help but pray that Sam would remain asleep throughout the exam so that he wouldn't be any more traumatized than he already was by the day's events. Taking a deep breath as he leaned against the wall, he closed his eyes to rest them for just a moment, only to open them once again as he heard the sound of the clinic doors opening.

"Hey Caleb, did you get everything squared away?" John asked, gracing the other hunter with a weak smile.

"Yeah. You don't have to worry, that bastard will never go after Sammy again," Caleb answered, his expression taking on a worried look by the way John and Bobby were acting. "I-Is everything okay with the runt?"

"He suffered a Grand mal seizure earlier. Jefferson is in there examining him now," Bobby answered gruffly. "He's also doing a rape kit on the kid."

"What?" Caleb bellowed in surprise before lowering his voice. "Surely you don't think…" he trailed off not wanting to say what was on his mind.

"It's possible Caleb. The man was a pervert after all and there's no telling how long Sammy was with him before we found him," John replied in answer to the unasked question.

"Damn it," Caleb groused as he leaned against the wall to wait with the others, silently sending up a prayer that Sam hadn't suffered such a horrendous indignity.

Thankfully, Jefferson stepped out of the room approximately fifteen minutes later to talk with the worried hunters. "John, I think you an relax as far as the worry about whether or not Sam was raped. I didn't find any bruising around the genital area and there was no signs of tearing in the rectal area. I did take some tissue scrapings just to be on the safe side and will have them evaluated to be one hundred percent sure about my findings."

"Thank God," John whispered reverently. "Can we go back in to see him?"

"Sure, just try to be as quiet as possible. Sam's going to need all the rest he can get," Jefferson answered with a wan smile before leaving to take the evidence bag to the lab to be tested.

Walking into the treatment room, John and the others strolled over to Sam's beside, forming a protective barrier around the young teen as they watched him sleep, each one fervently praying that Sam would survive the fight ahead.

TBC

Author's Note: It could be a few days before I post again as I have a bowling tournament this weekend and will also be watching the Super Bowl.