Thanks for your loyalty, thinking of all of you faithful reviewers, keeps me writing. Now on with the story.
Dean drove the way back to the hospital in record time. Although, if anyone would have asked him, he would have to confess, that driving the direct route, rather than drifting around without a goal, might have at least something to do with it. Now he was standing in the hallway of the intensive care unit, in front of his brothers room. For some reason, he suddenly hesitated, reluctant to face his father and most of all his brother. What, if Sam was alright and, after seeing him, he couldn't find the courage to leave his brother again? Just as he was ready to turn around, he made himself stop. He had to see for himself, because if the kid wasn't okay, he needed his big brother in there with him.
He walked toward the room, when the door opened and an aide appeared. Catching it just in time, before it closed again, he gave her a smile, then stood in the doorway for a moment. His breath caught, when he heard the words, coming from his father's mouth.
"Jim, I don't know, what will happen, if Dean doesn't find his way back here soon. As long as Sammy thinks it is his fault. his brother left, he is not going to fight this infection."
He watched as the priest put his hand on John's shoulder, seemingly looking for words of comfort, words, which just wouldn't come to him this time. Both men looked drawn and like they were at the end of their rope, which made his guilt feelings return with all their power.
Letting out the breath, he had been holding, he stepped forward, "How is Sammy?"
The question was whispered, but elicited an immediate response.
"Dean!"
John took the few steps towards his oldest and wrapped his strong arms around him, holding him, like he was the lost son from the bible. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked several times, trying to control them. Grateful for the gift, he'd been given, he sent a silent prayer to heaven and as his eyes locked with Jim, he could tell, the other man had just done the same. Only after holding on for another few moments, did the father let go of his son.
"It wasn't your fault!" He said, knowing, his words wouldn't give Dean the absolution, he was looking for, but hoping it would help him, at least until his Sam could give him his.
The younger hunter just nodded, then walked over to the bed. Grabbing a chair, he sat down and took hold of his brother's hand.
Leaning forwards, he said, "Listen to me Sammy, it wasn't your fault, that I left. You didn't do anything wrong."
Seeing Sam trying to turn his face away from him, he gently put his hand on his fever hot cheek and turned it back.
Not letting go, he continued, "Don't do this, kiddo. I'm alive, I'm okay and you had no control over what you did."
He could see tears forming in Sam's hazel eyes and had to listen closely to understand the words coming from his lips.
"You are my brother and I tried to kill you,... twice!"
"Okay, let's get this straight, for one, it was only once, the second time, it didn't even hurt. The only reason I even fell that time, was because you caught me off guard."
"But all those things, I said..."
Dean gave him his biggest grin, "Dude, you were so out of it, I don't think you had any idea, who Dad or I were. You thought, we kidnapped you or something, so I can't blame you for being mad at us."
For the first time the glassy eyes cleared a little, "You're sure?"
"Absolutely, little bro!"
Sam looked into Dean's eyes and any doubt he still had was wiped away. His brother truly didn't blame him. He didn't leave because of what he did. Relief flooded him, yet at the same time, somewhere in his feverish mind, a question formed, one, which he needed an answer to. The need for it was so great, that even his weakness and almost overwhelming urge to give in to the approaching darkness, became meaningless beside it.
"Why did you leave, if it wasn't because of what I did?"
Now it was Dean's turn to try and avoid fessing up, yet Sam was just as determined to find out, what bothered his brother. Unable to make the older hunter look at him, he instead used his best pleading voice to convince him.
Please, Dean, I really need to know!"
The desperate request and the unsteadiness of the voice, revealing to him, how ill his brother really was, went straight to Dean's heart.
Unable to refuse him any longer, he said, "What happened to you was my fault. Rebekah didn't want you, she just used you, because of your psychic powers. Your dying would have allowed her to take over your life force and come back. The man, that she wanted to live with, was me."
He let the last sentence stand in the room, watching for his brother's reaction. Yet, if he expected anger or at least shock, he was disappointed.
"So what?" There was no hesitation in Sam's voice, "she couldn't use you to come back, it had to be me. And if you wouldn't have been with me, she would have found some other poor fool."
Although at this time way beyond exhaustion, he couldn't help but jest, "She would have been sorely disappointed with you, after all, you are not a one-woman-man."
Dean grinned at his brother's comment, appreciating the humor more than Sam ever would know. He took the words for what they were, full absolution from any fault.
Realizing how much strength it took his brother to stay awake, he hurried to say, "Thanks, I take that as a compliment."
"No more leaving?"
"No more leaving, I promise!" he vowed.
He smiled, as Sam's eyes flutter a few times, trying to fight against the fatigue, before they finally closed and sleep swept over him in a giant wave, hurling him into an ocean of darkness, where resistance no longer was possible.
Pulling the blanket a little higher around the younger man, Dean used his only free hand. Desperate for his brother's presence, Sam wouldn't let go of his other hand, even in sleep.
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Dean Winchester felt content, when he looked at his sleeping kid brother. Now he was glad, he didn't go through with his plan to leave. No matter, what he thought, Sam needed him here and if he was honest with himself, he couldn't stand the thought of being separated from his pain in the butt little brother. He would have to thank the old guy at the motel, as soon as he would go back for his bag. But that could wait, right now he was exactly where he needed to be. And if he would have needed any further confirmation for it, he got it, when the nurse started the treatment for Sam's infected leg.
The older Winchester brother noticed her injecting morphine into his younger sibling's IV line, before she started, although Sam was sleeping. Giving her a questioning look, she explained.
"These treatments are rather painful and Dr. Gonzales ordered the morphine to be given routinely before each of them."
Shaking the youngest Winchester very gently, she warned him of the approaching procedure. Dean could tell, that the medication was already taking effect, because his brother's eyes were unfocused and slid shut before she turned away to get her equipment ready.
For a moment he considered to ask her, what she was going to do, but then decided, he really didn't want to know before hand. Instead, he held on tighter to Sam's hand. Without being disturbed by the close observation, the nurse started to carefully peel of the old dressings. Getting to the last layer, she tore the encrusted gauze off, with what seemed to Dean, no mercy.
Even after being dosed with the narcotic, Sam moaned and his eyes flew open in distress. Only Dean's fast reaction, prevented from moving jerking his leg, possibly hurting himself even more. By looking at him, the older hunter very quickly realized, the medication affected the younger man enough, that even with the prior warning, he didn't understand, what was going on, yet the effect was not quite enough to completely take the pain away.
"It's okay, Sammy, I'm right here with you. I know it hurts, just hold on to me and let the nurse here do her job."
Once again, Sam's mind was too muddled, to really understand the meaning of the words, yet he didn't have to, because it was Dean's voice talking to him and it gave him the security to let go again.
Only after his little brother settled down again, did the older brother turn to the medical professional again and give her an accusing look.
"Did you have to be so rough?"
Her eyes turned sad, "I know, it seems cruel, but this is the only way to get the diseased tissue separated from the healthy."
Dean noted the putrid smell and the bleeding from several areas of the injury, "But you made it bleed!" He said, trying to hold back the nausea, the odor caused.
"I know, this looks bad to you, but you have to understand, bleeding is good, because it means, there is healthy tissue involved. As long as there is only dead and infected cells, there is no chance for healing. Only if we expose the viable areas with good circulation, can we expect to see any healing."
She pointed at some parts, which had a deep red color and the appearance of raw meat.
"See this? This is what we call 'granulation tissue'. It contains clean, healthy cells, that are ready to regenerate. As soon as the whole area looks like this, we can do a secondary closure."
Although still distraught by the hurt this caused to Sam, the young hunter was grateful for the detailed explanation, as it made him understand, why pain and further injury was sometimes necessary to promote healing. Still holding on to the younger man's hand, he stroked his head with the other, while whispering words of reassurance in his ears.
The nurse continued her ministration by flushing the wound with copious amounts of saline solution, before carefully applying a thin layer of cream, which she explained contained enzymes, that would kill the dead layers of infected tissue. After that she covered it with several layers of gauze before finishing up with thick pads, that reminded Dean of extremely small diapers. And to secure all of this, she carefully slid a net like tubing over the dressings.
"All done!" she said, pushing some of the stray hair out of Sam's sweat soaked face, "I'm sorry, I will ask Dr. Gonzales to increase the morphine dosage, before the next dressing change."
It was very obvious, that she felt bad about having to inflict this much pain to the youngest Winchester. Dean was grateful for her concern, as he also found it difficult to watch the agony visible on his siblings face. After his initially attempt to fight the treatment, Sam hadn't moved or even made a noise, yet his brother didn't need any of these things, to know the pain, he endured.
Now that the it was over, Sam revealed his glassy eyes for just a moment, casting Dean an expression of thanks, before he allowed the narcotic drug to take him under again.
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There was no doubt in Jim Murphy's mind, who was responsible for the improvement in Sam's condition. The credit went solely to Dean. Ever since the older brother returned, two days ago, the youngest Winchesters temperature slowly, yet steadily, returned to a normal level. Even Dr. Gonzales was surprised and initially didn't belief the reports of the nurses, that the infection in the leg had almost cleared. Only after removing the dressings herself and making a visual inspection of the leg, was she convinced of the truth.
"I still can't belief it." She exclaimed, almost too overwhelmed, to find the right words, "I never seen anything like this! After everything Sam has been through, I really didn't have any hope for his leg. The infection was so severe, that I didn't think his body would have the strength to fight it off, even with the large doses of antibiotics we gave him."
The priest looked from a peacefully peacefully sleeping younger brother, to a protective older sibling by his side. A smile played on his lips, as he paused a moment to enjoy the sight, before turning to the physician.
"You know, no matter what people belief, there is a God out there, that looks at us all with mercy and whenever it seems, that there is no way to go on, puts big brothers in our path, that build bridges over the abyss for us."
The physician was getting ready to answer, when Dean interrupted her.
"Okay, so can we just forget about the chick flick moments and get on with it? What's going to happen next for Sam?"
Ready to take exception to his rudeness, the Hispanic doctor suddenly paused and smiled, as it dawned to her, why the older brother had done so. In his eyes, this was nothing special, it was something, he obviously had done before and would very likely do again. There was also no doubt in her mind, that the younger was just as devoted to Dean, as the older was to him. They truly had a special bond, something that reached beyond just a psychological connection, into a physical one, that brought healing and well-being to each of them.
For just a second, she consider the implication this could have to the medical community, should the brothers ever be subject to study. Yet she threw out the thought as quickly as it had come to her, knowing it would bring only pain and suffering to either one of them. Instead she answered the stated question with a steady voice.
"I want to wait a few more days, then we will close the wound and continue with the antibiotics until we are sure, there won't be any more complications. I plan on moving Sam to the surgical step down unit as soon as he recovered from the surgery, which hopefully won't take more than a day or two."
Her eyes moved over to the bed again, where a pair of hazel eyes now had joint the green ones already starring at her.
"I also want you to get out of bed as soon as possible after that. I know walking won't be on the agenda for quite some time, but just getting you up in the chair and later in a wheelchair, will make you feel a lot better."
"What about all those tubes sticking out of me?" The youngest Winchester ask her, while giving her his biggest puppy eye look.
"Well, the two chest tubes are already out." She said, knowing well, he was talking specifically about the Foley catheter and the picc line. Seeing the pleading look on his face, she decided to go easy on him and said, "The Foley can come out, as soon as the bleeding from your kidney is gone. Until then, it will help us to monitor it. The picc line will have to stay longer, but as soon, as you can eat and drink enough, we will disconnect the continuous infusion and just flush it. I don't want to remove it, before you are healed to the point, where we don't have to be afraid of any further infections."
Although not quite happy with the answers, Sam understood her concerns and decided to be content with what he could get. In a way, he was glad, because food was really not something, that was very high on his agenda yet. It involved being propped up, chewing and swallowing, all tasks, which took a lot of effort and pain and still tired him out. Right now, he rather spend his awake time talking with Dean, his dad and Pastor Jim.
TBC
Okay, so what do you think? Let me know, please. Next chapter will bring a little more about the old man at the motel. Hugs, Vonnie