++++++++++++++++++++++++++SPNSPNSPN++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Sam couldn't have been happier to see Dean when he turned up before noon with 6" Chicken Mayo subs and single serving cartons of cloudy apple juice. It was like his big brother knew psychically that Sam was having a 'hungry day'. Sam had snagged a granola bar by asking a student nurse to go to the vending machine for him, but it was like Lola was sucking the food right out of his stomach. Dean unwrapped his offerings and stood by the over-bed table to eat with Sam.
"Divine," Sam hummed around his first bite.
Dean chuckled. "Was gonna bring homemade. I put the ingredients by the bread maker last night, but Cas and I got delayed this morning. He was nearly late for school, ran out the door with his blue tie undone."
"Delayed? Or The Laid?" Sam snorted at his own joke.
"Huh, the second one." Dean grinned.
"You are insatiable."
"Naw, I'm adorable. But Cas does a pretty good job in the 'sating department'."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"How you doing today? What are the vital stats? And… any new delectable nurses?"
"Good. Had a nosebleed last night after y'all went home."
"Geez." Dean gritted his teeth and hissed.
"Hold up. It wasn't the end of the world, though you'd think it was from the way Nurse Laura ran to get the doctor on duty. It stopped all on its own and I'm fine."
Sam watched while Dean rooted in his duffel to find the blood stained nightshirt. His brother held it up in silent condemnation of Sam minimizing his condition.
Sam shrugged his shoulders, "Seriously Dee. I'm good. BP is stable this morning. Honest. And, dude, there is a new student nurse, but she's shy, so no flirting."
"Ah Sammy," Dean whined as he folded and replaced the soiled clothing. He was letting Sam off the 'lecture' hook. "I'm in a flirting groove."
"No you are not. You are hopping from one leg to the other. You can't even mention Pawpaw's arrival, can you? You are so keyed up?"
"So what if I'm eager to see him." Dean said defensively.
"I'm not criticizing Dee. I'm nervous too." Sam blew a long exhale. "I don't even have any memories of them, but hell, he's our family, y'know, Lola's great-granddaddy."
"Unless he's had a personality transplant, you have no reason to worry. Pawpaw is… I dunno. Memories of him and Mom… You'll see."
Sam nodded. Dean might not be able to find the words to express his loving memories of their Pawpaw but Sam could read Dean's face like a book, and he saw the childhood adoration of a beloved kind grandparent.
Their anticipation was interrupted by the arrival of a huge bouquet of flowers with attached balloons. Sam stared at it quizzically, unable to believe it was for his room, but the card was from all the guys at The Gates of Hell.
"Sheez," Dean huffed, "Celestine asked me if you were permitted flowers in the room. I think she wanted to do you up an arrangement. But I didn't know."
"That's real nice of her, but tell her to wait until I have Lola in my arms." Sam responded.
"Yeah, I don't think that'll fly. She liked you Sam and according to Inias they couldn't move from flowers when they had Poppy."
"Hmm, well, fingers crossed I'll be gone home before she gives you some. Ooof." Sam winced.
"You alright?" Dean hovered over him, brows clenched.
"Fine, fine." Sam reassured quickly. "Big kick. I'm telling ya, she's gonna win soccer medals."
"Maybe she doesn't like chicken." Dean worried.
"She might be a vegetarian." Sam teased knowing his brother's love of meat.
"Don't even say it."
"Nick used to be vegetarian, for ecological reasons." Sam stirred the pot.
"You saying its hereditary? Like floppy hair and huge feet?"
"Dean!" Sam yelped, "Don't you curse my daughter with huge feet."
"You know what they say about huge feet?" Dean teased.
"What?" Sam asked with extreme suspicion, "Manhood for guys? Width of pelvis?"
"No… hairy toes." Dean chortled before running for the door.
"Get back here." Sam yelled. "That's not fair Jerk. I can't get out of bed."
But Dean had disappeared, like a hyperactive kid.
"Don't listen to your silly Uncle Dee." Sam rubbed a hand over his bump, "I'm sure you'll have beautiful toes."
Veronica, the nurse, had come to check in with him and had left with his urine samples before Dean gingerly stuck his head around the door frame.
"Is it safe?"
Sam harrumphed. "Come on back in. I should throw a pillow or a bucket of water at ya, but get in here and keep me company."
"Judge Judy's on." Dean suggested, making a grab for the remote.
Sam looked skyward for inspiration, "That's always on. None of your soap operas either."
"Dr Sexy MD is not a soap opera. It is a television serial medical drama."
"Ah-ha, that's why it's on in the middle of the day after The Bold and The Beautiful?"
"What'd you want to watch then? And don't say rolling news."
"I dunno. Leave it off. They'll be here soon."
Dean cell started up with Led Zeppelin's 'The Rain Song'.
"Hey Cas, you on break?" He asked, "Yeah.. hummm, no I'm not sore."
"Take it outside," Sam hissed, "I don't want to know about your ass."
"I'm with Sammy." Dean said with a hand raised to acknowledge that he was ignoring that directive. A flush rose on his cheeks. "I'm wearing them. No don't. Stop Cas. I hope you're in the staff restroom."
"Dean!"
"OK," Dean nodded briskly, "And then?... Yeah… You are ace… I'll tell him. Thanks babe. Yeah Sam's good. Pawpaw will be here soon… See you on Friday. Oh I put the leftovers in the refrigerator for you so you don't have to cook tonight. Yeah. Me too."
Sam approved of Dean's plans to stay for their Pawpaw's visit, but he knew he'd miss Castiel during the week.
"Cas says hello. He made it on time for first class. He was checking I was good."
"I gathered that much." Sam pursed his lips.
"He made some calls to Stanford in his free period. All sorted. He talked to someone he knew in the Dean of Students office and they gave him the extensions for Anthropology and Admissions. I need to call over and collect an 'Emergency Deferral Application' and your doctor'll need to fill a section of it, but it's all good."
Sam sank back into the pillows. It was a relief. He didn't like the idea of falling behind in his degree but Lola was a damn sight more important, and he would catch up even if he graduated a semester later than his most recent life plan.
An orderly came with the lunch Sam had selected off the choices sheet at breakfast. Dean snorted at the salad plate but everything was fresh and the lettuce was crunchy as Sam preferred. Dean stole the slices of cheese. Sam tactfully ignored the furtive grabby fingers.
Sam's phone rang with the generic ringtone. Wondering if it was their grandfather calling from arrivals, and hoping that Nick was waiting as promised to collect him, Sam answered the phone to Brady's voice. When Dean crestfallenly realized it wasn't Pawpaw he gave Sam some privacy to chat. It seemed that someone at The Gates had called Brady about Sam being in hospital. Sam could barely get a word in to tell Brady the crisis was over, between being scolded for not telling his friends, reprimanded for not taking care of himself, and Brady threatening to come back a week early to punch 'Lucifer' for overworking 'Samael'. Finally, Sam was able to ask for an update about Brady's boring summer job at his father's law firm. Brady's droll exaggerated moaning about being a glorified filing clerk and his plaintive whines about his immediate supervisor's hay fever and sniffling allergies, had Sam knotted with laughter. When Brady had to return to his work, Sam thanked his friend for doing him good and extracted a promise that they'd meet up when Brady got back to California.
When he ended the call Sam saw he'd missed a text from Nick. He was trying to find parking.
"Dean! They are here." Sam drew his brother back into the room. "Do I look alright?"
"What are you Sam? A big giant girl?" Dean laughed as Sam wet his hands on a wipe and tried to tame his hair with damp hands.
"The last time our grandfather saw us, I was in diapers."
"Probably a stinky one. You had the stinkiest diapers." Dean wrinkled his nose.
"Dean!" Sam yelled in protest. He was delighted to see his brother in such high spirits. Dean could tease but he had dressed up for the occasion, in his new burgundy shirt over his flattering brown Henley and dark blue jeans.
A single knock on the door announced the arrival of Nick, whose arm was linked by Dean Campbell. Sam smiled brightly at the grey haired gentleman who leaned more on Nick than on the walking cane in his other hand. Pawpaw was shy of six feet tall, maybe 5' 10", Sam estimated. He was slender and had an upright carriage despite the cane. He wore a brown tweed suit which didn't look new but was well cared for. Under that he had a crisp white shirt, a green and brown striped tie, and brown wingtip oxfords polished to a high shine. Quick as anything, he handed Nick his cane and held his arms open.
"Deanie."
Dean made an audible emotional gasp as he flew into his Pawpaw's embrace. The older man stroked the short hairs on the back of Dean's head and kissed his cheek. Then he pulled out of the hug and gripped Dean by the shoulders.
"Let me look at you…. never lost our freckles I see." He tipped the side of Dean's nose and then pressed a finger along his own cheek from his eye crinkles inwards, "but this scar is new and I know there are more, my poor darling boy."
Tears welled up. Dean wrapped his grandfather in another longer trembling hug. The joyous reunion was shadowed for Sam by the bittersweet fact that for so many years grandparent and grandsons had been denied any contact.
Still held, the elder Dean said, "It feels so good to have you in my arms Deanie. Although I could pick you up and carry you on my hip the last time I saw you."
"I re..remember." Dean choked out. "I lo..loved that. Felt so tall."
"And then Samuel would take you on his shoulders and tell you that you were 'King of The Castle.'"
Dean swallowed hard again, in the way Sam knew signaled he was battling his emotions for speech. "Or you'd le..let me sit on the kitchen dresser while you cooked."
"Shush, Deanie." Dean Campbell smiled widely, "Don't rat me out to the new parents. Grandparent spoiling is an indulgence."
Nick approached Sam's bed, visible affected by the two Deans' reunion. Sam tugged on Nick's arm to get him to lean in for their first kiss of the day.
"Your grandfather gave me the 'talk'. I'm a little scared of him." Nick whispered. "As it should be."
"And Baby Sammy," Dean Campbell said as he took a step towards them, "having his own baby. How life flies by."
Nick moved to offer the walking cane, but the senior shook his head, "Thank you, but I only use it to lean on when the pins get weary. Samuel says it is for show, to make me look regal. A load of baloney."
Sam could see the faded freckles on his Pawpaw's face as he got closer and Dean pulled over the chair for him. Pawpaw had told them how Samuel was bald as a coot. Sam was glad to see there were other genes on his family tree because although Pawpaw's forehead was high, he had a full head of grey hair in that natural ash blond grey that suggested he had been ginger or dark blond in his youth.
"How are you Sam?"
The question was asked full of concern and sympathy. Sam's hand was taken and patted. It was a simple gesture but the warmth of the touch brought a lump to Sam's throat.
"Improving. Honestly Pawpaw. I'm hoping they won't keep me in much longer."
"And the little one?" He reached a hand over tentatively.
Sam nodded and lowered the hospital blanket so his Pawpaw could place his palm over the rounded bump. Lola was not co-operating with the perfect reunion script. She didn't kick on cue. Sam wondered if she was asleep, as she hadn't been active for a while.
"Show Pawpaw the latest ultrasound pics." Sam said to Nick, who rooted in Sam's bedside stand for the print outs.
"She is a swell little girl." Dean Campbell held the photograph close to his face, suggesting he used reading glasses. "Isn't technology amazing? To know the sex of your child, to be able to see them before they are born, and with newborn boys they can do one of those MRI thingies now to see if they are carriers."
Sam agreed that it was.
The afternoon flew by. Nick had to disappear to Menlo Park for a spell to deal with financial matters at the restaurant. Dean Campbell was happy to take the nursing chair and chat with his grandsons. The nurses were charmed when the older gentleman was introduced as Lola's great-grandfather. An extra portion of the afternoon snack was delivered specially for him. Dean and Sam were regaled with stories about extended family members they never knew. They had two Campbell cousins, Mark and Christian, serving in Iraq and a branch of Pawpaw's distant family lived in Argentina.
"Coming here, Pawpaw?" Sam asked a question that had been preying on his mind. "Has it scuppered your annual vacation?"
"Coming here was mine and Samuel's decision. You didn't ask me. I'm the one imposing my presence on you." He twisted to look at Dean. "I was this close to asking Gwen to book flights when you boys were attacked by John, but Sam convinced me he had the support of his partner. You had Sam and your own partner, Dean, and we could only have visited you for an hour each night. I hope you don't think badly of me that I came now."
"No Pawpaw." Dean gasped. "No way. You being here is awesome."
"Well I am glad." Pawpaw smiled tenderly at Dean's expressive face, "Vegas will have to suffer the loss of the annual Campbell Pilgrimage for one year."
"You go to Vegas?" Sam grinned, conjuring an image of Pawpaw in a tux at the card tables.
Dean was opening and closing his mouth in wordless awe. He proceeded to ask at least twenty questions about the Nevada resort. Sam thought he'd warn Castiel of Dean's interest in Vegas. His own mind drifted as Lola moved round causing some lower pressure. When he returned from the restroom with his obligatory sample, the two Deans were talking about a cabin set in pastures.
"Where?" Sam asked as he carefully wheeled his IV pole to a stop. He threw his legs back on the elevated mattress. Dean helped to fix his pillows and to slip on the fingertip pulse oximeter that had replaced the cardiac monitoring.
"The Campbell Cabin." Pawpaw explained. "It's an old farmstead that's been in the Campbell family for generations. I was telling Dean that Samuel and I will most likely take a week there before the weather turns, and reminding him that we all went there one summer when he was a toddler."
"I don't remember it," Dean grimaced as if he was trying to search his uncooperative brain for any memories. "I never knew I went on a vacation with Mom and Dad."
"You were so cute. Samuel took John hunting and Mary and I taught you how to make mud pies. You wanted to eat them and got upset when you couldn't. Then you kept your pudgy little hand in a fist for ages until Mary convinced you to show her the mud you were saving to give John when he got back. Those pies are a cabin tradition. I always brought play clothes for Mary when we'd go as a family. She and her cousin, Gwen's Dad, used to end up covered in mud and Samuel'd hose them down. I swear those two did it just for the hosing on baking hot Kansas summer days."
Dean had his hand pressed to his chest at that story. It evoked such feeling in all three of them and poignantly told Sam that there was a time before his mother died when Dean could hope for a more loving reaction to trying to please John. He imagined Dean brimming with happiness at giving his Daddy his gift and maybe John thanking him and kissing the little blond toddler's forehead. It was a jarring portrait when held against the violence of later years.
The heavy silence that had fallen was broken by Dean Campbell coaxing his grandsons to entertain him with the stories of how Dean had met Castiel and how Sam had met Nick. His eyes misted up when Dean revealed how he had been able to speak with Cas right from the start. Pawpaw gripped Sam's hand deathly tight when he spoke of how supportive Nick had been when Sam had returned from Arkansas with Dean.
By early evening Sam could tell his grandfather was flagging. The older man must have risen at the crack of dawn for his flight to San Francisco. Sam had learned that Pawpaw usually took an afternoon nap, when they discussed his own enforced bedrest.
Taking control of arrangements to guarantee considerate and premier hospitality, Sam sent them on their way, with instructions to stop for a meal at The Gates and settle Pawpaw in at the house. He extracted an easy promise from Nick to look after their treasured guest, before Nick headed out first save Pawpaw's legs by bringing the Lexus close to the hospital door. That gave the elder Dean a chance to finish his story of how Deanie wanted a blue cake and tipped his crayon into the batter when Mary and he were distracted. Dean was blushing but eyes were fixed devotedly on his Pawpaw.
Sam reflected that this lovely elderly gentleman was a new person in his life, almost a stranger, but if family was something tangible, then Dean Campbell evoked that sensation. As when talking on the phone together, there was some sort of magic that made Sam feel comfortable and a sense of belonging. He had very little reference for it in his life. Dean had been his everything growing up. Bobby was like a surrogate uncle, but he was Bobby Singer, unique onto himself. When Sam had made good friends like his college mates and at various schools, there had grown a companionable affection between them. It was different with Nick too. He and Nick fitted together, slotted pieces into place and fused whole. Sam figured that with Pawpaw he was getting to experience something Dean had known and lost, the unconditional kindness and love of an elder family member.
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On Tuesday morning, Sam could hardly believe his eyes, and was very glad he'd been permitted to shower and change into clean PJs. Mr. Wyatt arrived to see him almost immediately after breakfast had been cleared away. The anthropology lecturer bore a fruit basket against his sweater vest. He came with the best wishes of the other faculty members who knew Sam.
"When I returned Mr. Fletcher's call, he filled me in on your drama, Sam."
Sam hadn't known that Cas had sought out his faculty advisor to update him personally. He resolved to thank Castiel for being so conscientious on his behalf.
"They have me under control now." Sam jerked his head towards the monitor and IV. "As long as I do nothing, we hope for the best."
"I'm glad to hear it." The academic pulled over the chair Nick normally used. He looked towards the door, "I'm not taking your visitors' chair?"
"No. They are due here soon. My grandfather flew in from Kansas yesterday and I made them promise to give him a good breakfast. I'd say there's a kitchen battle between my brother's French Toast and my partner's Huevos Rancheros."
"Sounds like a great argument." Mr. Wyatt chuckled.
"I'm real sorry we won't be working together Mr. Wyatt." Sam offered a regretful grimace of a smile.
"First, we are going to be working together. I will ensure I can take you on when you return for the spring quarter. Second, please call me George."
"Thank you George." Sam felt slightly awkward using his advisor's first name, but he guessed they would build a strong working relationship. Mr. Wyatt was already his favorite lecturer and he had been chuffed to get his agreement to supervise his degree.
"From my limited understanding of bedrest, I gather you can't engage in any physical activity, but I would wager that you'll keep your mind active."
"Oh Lord I hope so." Sam huffed, "I already fear I'm turning to mush with daytime TV and the boredom, and I'm only three days in."
"I guessed you'd feel that way," George grinned. "Maybe you'd like to keep a toe in."
Sam drew his brows together in question. He presumed the man knew he couldn't attend classes.
"I mean keeping up to speed. Perhaps you'd like to subscribe to academic journals." George dipped into his book bag, "I've brought you the latest copies of American Anthropologist and Anthropological Quarterly."
"Oh," Sam exclaimed with reaching hands, "Thanks. I mean, wow. Are these your copies, Mr. Wy…George? I can get Nick to mail them back to you."
George ran a hand through his dark hair and laughed, "No Sam. They are faculty staff copies that I am reallocating as I see fit."
"I never thought of getting the journals for myself. Y'know, I think of them being in the library, but it's a brilliant idea. I'd like to take a few more titles." Sam bit his bottom lip trying to think of the ones most relevant to his preferred areas of study.
"I can e-mail you a list of the best in each anthropology discipline."
"That would be great." Sam beamed.
"There is no pressure here, Sam." George clarified. "This isn't a requirement from your advisor. If you don't read a word until you return to Stanford, I'll help you get back up to speed. I'm suggesting this for your pleasure."
"Oh I know," Sam was quick to respond.
"Good, because you have given the impression that you have a love for anthropology and I think you will find some very stimulating papers in the latest journals."
"I've been thinking of doing an undergraduate thesis." Sam confessed.
"You have?" Mr. Wyatt's eyes widened in enthusiasm. "Have you thought much about the area you wish to address?"
"I have."
"It's a great idea. You can be doing some research at a relaxed pace as your health permits. Are you ready to tell me your topic?"
Sam was slightly reluctant, even shy, to put it out there, but this was his advisor. "I have the title and roughly where I want to go with it."
"Sam, I'll be available if you want to e-mail me questions or ideas. You don't have to reveal your title today. And you certainly don't have to stick to anything discussed at this early stage."
"Anthropology of the Road." Sam said with more confidence than he felt, then blew an audible huff.
"Like Kerouac?"
Sam shook his head. "No. More like families and people with no fixed abode."
"The homeless?"
"Not that either. Kind of military brats, seasonal farm laborers in developing countries, diplomatic corps families, travelling musicians, theatre groups and roadies."
"Carnies? Circuses?" Mr. Wyatt suggested.
Sam shuddered, "Ah, no circuses. Sorry no clowns. I can work around the lack of circuses." He recovered his composure. "I mean, Dean and I, we were raised on the road."
"I like it," Mr. Wyatt rubbed his chin in thought, "It is original and you have a unique perspective. I can see you could have a lot to say. My main role may be helping you to cut and edit, rather than like many students when I help source material for them to include. You may find the word limit constraining, but that will be the challenge."
The reception to his academic hopes had been good so far. Sam risked a further admission of his dreams, "I might want to develop it. For maybe my Masters, I hope."
"Don't stop there Sam. Your Doctorate." Mr. Wyatt smiled sincerely.
Nick spied the journals as soon as he entered the room. He whispered a question of if Sam had sent one of the friendly nurses into the campus for them, when he bent to plant a good morning kiss on Sam's cheek. With amusement Sam noticed that Dean had dressed smartly again while Dean Senior wore a different classic suit in cream.
"Looking snazzy, Pawpaw." Sam complemented.
"I told him he looks like Peter O'Toole," Dean said.
Pawpaw inclined his head at the repeated compliment. "Says the young Guy Madison."
"Who?" Sam asked, feeling slightly like Castiel must when he didn't catch on to the Winchester's multiple TV references.
"The most delicious star of the 1940s in my humble opinion. You should have seen him in 'Honeymoon' next to Shirley Temple." Pawpaw gave a half smile.
Sam sat up straight to receive one armed greeting hugs from Pawpaw and Dean. Then Sam filled them in on Mr. Wyatt's visit. Without prompting Nick warmed Sam's heart with his comment that the mailman would be kept busy. Sam knew that meant Nick would help arrange all the journals he wished for. His whole situation made Sam feel pretty helpless but at least he could help by doing nothing. He figured Nick must be chomping at the bit for ways he could help or ease the way. If he was a manipulative fiend, Sam reckoned he could ask Nick for a Bugatti or a top of the range Rolex and he'd find either waiting for him when he got home. However Sam would have everything he wanted if they could get Lola safely into the world.
Nick sourced another supportive chair so that Dean Campbell could relax comfortably. Dean flicked on a morning rerun of Dr Sexy MD, for background noise, he said. Sam gave him a look, heavy with the unspoken knowledge that with the sound muted and his chair turned at the right angle, his brother wanted to ogle Dr Sexy.
"You have a lovely home, Sam. As a landlocked Kansan, I must admit dropping off to the sound of the ocean was as exotic as the chocolate martinis that Nick made for our nightcaps."
"Crème de Cacao, Grey Goose, and a wisp of Baileys." Nick explained.
"OK." Sam licked his lips. "I want to know why I never got one of those and for you to put me down for one later."
"Much later," Nick breathed into Sam's lips as he rubbed their noses together.
"I'd say get a room," Dean snorted, "But I guess we're invading your room Sammy."
"Did you call Grandpa Samuel?" Sam enquired.
"I did." Pawpaw nodded, "He has managed to reheat tuna casserole and make a bowl of cornflakes without blowing up our kitchen. He sends his thoughts."
"I made pancakes for breakfast." Dean chipped in.
Sam gifted Nick with an appreciative smile, as he thought of his earlier pondering about what was going on in their own kitchen.
"They were swell." Pawpaw patted his waistband. "I overindulged."
"Can't have too many pancakes. 'S impossible." Dean grinned.
Movement at the door made Sam turn his head to see Anna and a younger blonde junior doctor who had come on rounds before.
"I need a few minutes with my patient." Anna declared.
Anxious heated trembling caught Sam's breath. Each person looked up in surprise.
"Dr Milton this is my grandfather, Dean Campbell," Sam introduced, "Pawpaw this is my great obgyn, Anna Milton."
"Please to meet you sir," Anna reached out for a handshake but Dean Campbell smoothly turned her hand and kissed the back of it.
"Charmed to meet you, my dear. Sam says good things about you."
Pawpaw was a charmer. Sam watched as his professional consultant melted under old-time manners and charisma.
"Mr. Campbell perhaps your other grandson might like to take you for a coffee?"
"Please my dear, call me Dean. I won't be scandalized by anything you say." Dean Campbell laughed lightly, "I'm their birth-grandparent."
"You are a carrier?" The younger doctor blurted.
Anna glared at her.
"Odd man out," Nick spoke up jocularly, breaking any tension by pointing an obvious finger at where his slight paunch rounded his tee, "Good living bump only."
"Come on Pawpaw," Dean picked up the walking cane and offered his elbow for the senior to link his arm. Sam smiled. It was something to see Dean standing tall, walking confidently, in the role of assisting their grandfather.
Nick stayed but took a spot leaning against the wall out of the doctors' way. Sam was subjected to what felt like a full health check, everything from listening to his chest and Lola's heartbeat, to taking more bloods.
Just as he was empathizing with lab rats and guinea pigs, Sam saw Anna make some notations on his chart and send her junior away with the samples. Dr Milton took a seat, flicked her red hair over her shoulder and placed her hands hanging between her knees.
"I'm satisfied that you have sustained improvement. I think it is time to make a deal," She smiled relieving Sam's nerves. "You follow every instruction I give you down to the fine print, and you give me back that bed for a new patient."
"I can go home?" Sam beamed, catching Nick's eye.
"Don't have any doubts, Sam that if you are in danger, we will re-admit you and deliver your baby. Each week, each day, you stay below dangerous levels will increase Lola's chances as a preemie newborn. But yes I'll discharge you tomorrow. I want another 24 hours monitoring to be on the safe side. Only, and I mean this, only if you promise me faithfully you will take bedrest. Every day, Sam. The mornings you wake chock full of energy, you must use it playing Tetris on your laptop, planning all you'll have to do when Lola arrives, or making phone calls to your friends, all while staying at rest. You understand?"
"We do." Sam and Nick both promised.
"OK then. Ground rules." Anna clasped her hands together. "Bed. Bed. Bed. Preferably in the left reclining position, but you can be propped up with pillows and use more cushions to elevate your legs simulating how we deploy the hospital bed."
"Got it." Sam nodded.
"No stress. No working yourself up about anything. Be prepared for boredom and feeling tetchy because of it." Anna looked pointedly at Nick, "And be prepared for a frustrated partner. The grouchiest patients I've known have been those on bedrest."
Nick hummed and squeezed Sam's shoulder.
"Do you really mean I've gotta stay totally in bed?" Sam checked. "Like I can shower right? Putter around for a short while if I'm feeling good?"
"Yes. No." Anna responded. "Yes you can shower, go to your dining room for a hot meal, sit outside on a recliner to get some fresh air, and maybe take a very gentle stroll for 15, 20, minutes. I'll get physiotherapy to call in and show you some in-bed muscle and joint exercises. No way will you putter around, cleaning, going shopping, washing your car, mowing your lawn, cooking, socializing, visiting Stanford…. None of that. Are there stairs in your home?"
"Yeah." Nick answered.
"In that case I want you to limit the number of times you use them, Sam. A couple of times per day preferably and not running up them. If you are going to lie on the sofa, then bring everything you need. No taking trips back to the bedroom. Same if you are in bed. Some people use a mini-fridge or cooler, so you don't have to trek to your kitchen for snacks or lunch. A phone and a set of take out menus are good too. If you are home alone, you should have our number and that of a neighbor or friend on direct dial as well as Nick's in case of need. And never be afraid to call 911 in emergency."
"OK."
"And it may be tempting to do more if you are feeling well, but you'll end up back here, either on inpatient bedrest or in the delivery suite with a very small preemie girl fighting to breathe and live."
Sam puffed at the blow her words delivered. His hand strayed to rest on his bump. "If you said lie there and have Nick give me bed baths, I'd do it."
Nick quirked a sneaky grin at Sam, who suspected there might be an X-rated version of a bed bath in their future.
Sam cleared his throat, "What about, huh, about sex?"
"No." Anna looked between both men, "Off the agenda."
"What if I take care of Nick?" Sam asked.
"Sam!" Nick objected, "You make me sound like some jerk who'd take pleasure where none can be given."
"What if it gave me pleasure to take care of you?" Sam ducked his eyes from Anna's gaze. He wasn't embarrassed per se. Anna was his doctor. He'd lost track of the number of times Nick had gotten on his knees and blown Sam's mind. If they'd been keeping tallies then Sam playing that role was surely overdue. "Could I give Nick a BJ? Oh my god that sounded so cold. I mean, if we were in the mood could I use my hands or my mouth?"
Talking about this was cringe worthy, but he needed to hear Anna's answer.
"You are not to exert yourself Sam, and intercourse could bring on labor, but in the privacy of your own home if you can ensure that you work around these limitations it is between you and your partner."
"Good." Sam nodded satisfied with the response.
"We are going to talk more about this." Nick spoke low into Sam's ear. He didn't sound all that pleased. Sam guessed it wasn't very romantic that they couldn't mutually get aroused and come, but he didn't see why Nick should have to suffer blue balls.
"Any other questions? Similar ones?" Anna wiggled her brows.
"Will I have to come in for tests often?"
"I'd like to see you twice a week at the moment. I'll have my secretary pencil you in. If need be we can schedule daily checks or as I have said you can return as an inpatient. You be sent home with a set of urine sample jars, and a Home BP kit, which I want you to use every two hours. They don't give exact calibrations but you will notice an increase in readings, perhaps before you become symptomatic. When you come in for your appointments bring a book or some music as you'll be lying down for three hours for monitoring." Anna made eye contact with each of them, "Any reservations?"
Sam licked his lips, "I don't want to be a burden on Nick or Dean. I don't want to be babysat."
"Never a burden." Nick muttered as he squeezed Sam's arm again.
"I didn't say you needed a sitter. You'll need help and you'll need to allow your family to do a lot of small everyday tasks for you. But I have explained what to do if you are alone for a time." Anna stood to go, "Any symptom however slight you must call or come straight to the hospital. And avoid diuretics so no coffee."
Sam huffed wryly, "No sex, no coffee, no exercise. I'm gonna be one of those parents who regularly embarrasses their children with unending pregnancy and birth stories."
"I look forward to it." Nick laughed.
They exchanged a smile both imagining a teenager flouncing off to her bedroom when they'd begin to reminisce with rose tinted glasses about the trials they currently faced.
"Sam," Anna stood to go, "Anything at all. You contact us. I can't stress this enough. Racing heartbeat, nausea, swollen feet, dizziness, headaches, or a nosebleed. Let me or the doctor on duty decide if you need to come in."
"I promise."
"We promise." Nick added to the departing doctor.
"I can go home," Sam gulped. "I can come home while Pawpaw is with us. I'm stoked. I mean, I'm dreading the bedrest, but being able to spend time with Pawpaw and Dean out of hospital. It's magic."
Sam sank into Nick's sideways embrace.
"My Sam." Nick shuddered against him. "I had such nightmares. You can't imagine."
Sam could. He'd had them too. He gulped back a wave of emotion, "I get to come home. I get to sleep in our bed and curl into you, my love."
Nick made soothing noises as he promised they would be OK. Sam felt both drained and contented when the others returned. They were all overjoyed at the news that Sam was well enough to be discharged. Dean whipped out his cell to text Castiel.
Pawpaw rubbed his hands together at the prospect of being able to help out at their home for the few days before he headed back to Kansas. Dean had taken him out give him a guided tour of the Impala and all the memories Baby held in her metallic frame. Dean did a hilarious impression of Pawpaw's face, the previous evening when he recognized the Impala as John's car. Sam got a stitch in his side from Dean's take off of Pawpaw's repetitive "Oh My" while he had related how important the car had been as his lodestone growing up.
It was Pawpaw who was perceptive of Sam's dip in energy and suggested giving Sam a break. Sam blamed the anti-hypertensive drugs' side effects for his lethargy, although they started to lower his dose and phase them out over the previous day. He didn't think he was believed, judging by the squinted eyes of his family.
"Perhaps we'll go for that coffee now?" Pawpaw suggested to Dean. "What was the name of the place you met your man?"
"Light Up Your Beans." Dean grinned, "But I call it Beans. I'd love to show ya, and I'll drive the 'Pala round Cowper Street to show you Sam's old student house too."
Nick followed Sam's direction to pack up his soiled clothes and items he wouldn't need again before going home. Sam asked him to dim the lights, then he was sent off to throw the duffel in his trunk, drop off the 'emergency deferral application' at Stanford, and to buy Sam's hastily scribbled list of green and organic produce to restock the kitchen.
Sam couldn't nap. He reclined on his left but his mind raced with the prospect of going home. Pawpaw was the first to return and check if Sam was awake. Dean was down the corridor, having a fight with the vending machine over a bag of chips.
"I don't know how he can eat chips out of vending machines." Sam huffed, "It's like getting 'em out of a fridge."
"He has a healthy appetite, doesn't he?" Pawpaw commented, "We had portions of pecan pie at the coffee shop."
"I think he has a second stomach specially for pie." Sam chuckled.
Pawpaw sat close to Sam's bed. "You would you be offended if I asked some pointed questions, while we have a moment alone?"
His mind rebooting to full awareness Sam shook his head to the enquiry.
"You know Sam that I'm of a different time."
Sam snorted. "Sounds like you're out of a historical novel."
Pawpaw smiled gently in affirmation, "In my day, carriers and their partners would come before a judge, or their pastor if their religion recognized unions, and formulize their standing before commencing a family." He raised a palm, "Don't think for a moment I am criticizing your relationship, Son. I'm planting seeds that you might think of for the future. Would you like to be married Sam? Are you nervous about Nick being an older man?"
Sam tried to keep his face calm but he could feel the stretch of his skin as his eyes widened and his nostrils flared in irritation.
"Now don't fuss. Please. I'm not condemning you or Nick. Who am I to do that? Samuel and I faced our own critics, as did my parents. I can see your love for each other and I pray you'll be blessed with many years of happiness."
"Thanks Pawpaw." Sam breathed, all annoyance draining away.
"Good," Pawpaw smiled softly as Sam relaxed, "I'd hate to have distressed you. There are challenges in every relationship and maybe your age gap will prove to be one, or maybe it never will. You've told me how your love grew for Nick, and he has told me how he fell for you in a sudden rush. The conventional love story of teen sweethearts being forever in love, certainly doesn't always end in real happiness."
"Like my parents." Sam mumbled.
Dean Campbell nodded sagely, keeping his soft voice low and an eye out for Dean's return, he admitted, "I was thinking of Mary."
Sam could see that pain was as fresh now as twenty years ago.
A hankie was produced. Pawpaw dabbed at his eyes. "You know, you have a look of her. Deanie does too in different features, like you both inherited parts of my girl."
"What was she like Pawpaw?" Sam dared to ask.
"She was bright. So bright and beautiful. Headstrong and stubborn. Caring. Sweet. A wonderful mother. I was proud of her. It tore at my heart when she'd turn up at the door with Deanie on her hip because John was drinking or…" Pawpaw bit his lip.
Sam couldn't ask. He didn't want to know if his Dad had been violent before Mary died. He didn't think his grandfathers would have allowed spousal abuse to continue, but he was left pondering how much Mary told her fathers.
Dean entered displaying his bag of Fritos like a trophy. Pawpaw caught Sam's eye. The older man was just as good as his namesake at silent communication. It was plain he did not want to upset Dean by evoking long lost unpleasant memories. Instead Pawpaw changed the subject by engaging Dean in a lively debate as to the best pie that they could bake together to treat Sam when they were back at Moss Beach. Sam didn't get a word in edgeways, but that didn't matter. He'd eat any flavor and enjoy every bite just to see and hear, Dean and Pawpaw with their eyes sparkling and laughter sounding.
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