Chapter 29

The painkillers Laney had been given helped her fall asleep quickly, but within a short time she found herself awake and in pain again. She could only catch 20 or 30 minutes of sleep at a time. Sam had taken first shift and was asleep in the chair next to her – looking incredibly uncomfortable – his enormous frame crumpled up like a pretzel.

Her leg throbbed, her abdomen ached, and her head pounded. After her breakdown during her shower Rachel had helped her get dried, dressed, and resettled. When she got back into bed, she realized that it was pretty obvious her brothers had heard her little breakdown. There was an awkward and uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. She was eternally grateful that they had chosen to pretend they hadn't heard a thing.

She was also horribly embarrassed. She'd had a purely selfish pity party about her current physical state. She knew it was temporary and that eventually she would get better, but it bothered her in an unexpected and extreme way. After all the wishing she could become a real hunter – not just a research lackey – she wondered how that would ever be. She had visions of being left behind while her brothers hunted because she was too physically damaged to be of any use in the field. And she was absolutely terrified of being without them. She used to think she knew her path – that she had it all laid out – but now the future seemed unknown.

She was bothered too, by the fact that she had yet to really cry over her father's death. It still didn't feel real to her. As difficult of a recovery she faced with her injuries, she at least knew that she would get through it. She had a goal and with enough work she could reach it. But her father – he was gone – and there was nothing in the world that was going to bring him back.

Laney attempted to readjust herself in the bed which sent a jolt of pain through her leg that left her breathless. After waiting a few minutes for it to settle down – and it just staying the same – she reluctantly pressed the nurse call button. She couldn't handle it anymore. She waited and waited and pressed the call button again.

It must be broken.

She'd been moved to the regular medical unit shortly after her shower. Her new nurse had the personality of a rock and no one seemed to give her more than a momentary glance. It was a far cry from the nurses in the ICU. At least Rachel had promised to come visit her between her shifts.

When it became clear that no one was going to be coming to her rescue, Laney went through a series of breathing exercises that Pamela had taught her. But it didn't help and although she mentally kicked herself for it, she started to cry. Maybe she deserved to suffer. Maybe she'd brought all of this on herself. If she hadn't been so stupid and let herself get caught by Meg, her father would have never delivered himself right into the hands of yellow-eyes. This whole chain of events wouldn't have been kicked into gear. Her father would be alive.

No, don't think about Dad.

Laney put the brakes on the spiral in to self-pity long enough to stick her hand out and shake Sam's knee. He was awake instantly. He scrutinized his sister. Her face was just barely illuminated by the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, but it was enough to see that her face was wet with tears.

"What's the matter baby?" he asked, clicking on the light by her bed. He frowned when he got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and puffy – she'd obviously been crying for awhile.

"I'm in a lot of pain," she said apologetically with a sniffle. "And I keep pressing the stupid call button, but no one answers."

Sam got up from his chair and wiped away his sister's tears with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'll go track someone down. Relax. I'll be right back."

Laney nodded and wiped at her nose. She hated being such a baby.

Her brother was back in less than a minute, an annoyed looking nurse in tow.

"You're in pain?" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. I can't sleep," answered Laney, softly.

Sam frowned. She sounded so sorry about it, when she didn't have a damn thing to be sorry about. He and Dean were going to have to have a talk about that. They didn't need her feeling guilty for anything.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, what would you rate your pain at?" the nurse asked, tonelessly.

"A nine," said Laney. Rapidly approaching a ten.

The nurse sighed heavily. "I'll have to put a call in to your doctor."

"Why?" asked Sam.

"I have to have an order from the doctor Okaying it. She's not due for more pain meds until morning."

"Until morning?" asked Sam, incredulously. He looked at his watch. Morning was still a few hours away.

"We can't have her doped up all the time. These are powerful pain meds and very addictive. We're supposed to be weaning her," said the nurse with more than a little attitude.

Laney looked up at Sam with a silent plea for help. The look on her face was heartbreaking.

Sam shook his head and looked back at the nurse. "Well call her doctor. I know my sister, if she's in enough pain to ask for medication, then it's really bad. She's not making it up to get some kind of high."

"I'll try, but I can't make any promises," said the nurse, who turned on her heels and walked out the door in a huff.

Sam glared at the nurses back.

"I guess they don't teach people skills in nursing school," remarked Laney, breathlessly.

Sam returned his gaze to his sister's face. It was etched deep with pain. She was taking deep breaths in and out.

Can't make any promises? Yeah, we'll see about that, thought Sam.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. The call was picked up on the first ring.

"What's wrong?"

"Dean, we need you here."

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"Miss Winchester? Miss Winchester?"

Laney awoke groggy and confused to an unfamiliar voice. When she managed to pry her eyes open she was met by the stare of an older heavy set woman dressed in a business suit that was a size or two too snug. She had some sort of official looking I.D badge attached to her lapel.

"Hi Delaney. I'm sorry to have to wake you, but I really need to speak with you."

"It's Laney…nobody calls me Delaney." Except my father.

Laney pushed back the creeping sadness.

"Well, then Laney. My name is Cheryl Wiseman. I'm the social worker assigned to your case."

Laney's eyes widened. "Where are my brothers?" she asked in a panic.

"They are having a little meeting with hospital administration. Apparently your brother Dean got a little aggressive with some of the staff last night."

"He was just trying to help me," said Laney. Dean had arrived at her room barely 10 minutes after Sam's phone call and raised holy hell on the medical staff until she got her pain medication. She was blissfully asleep and mostly pain free until she was just so rudely awakened. Like her oldest brother, she had a very special distaste for officials of any sort.

"What do you need to talk to me about? And why do I have a social worker?" she asked, as she shook with a chill. The room seemed to have grown colder. But that could just be that the woman left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Did your brothers not explain the situation to you?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"They told me that they got you the required legal documents you needed to see that Dean is my legal guardian now. As far as I know there is no situation," Laney bit out.

"The validity of those documents are not in question. But just because that's what your father dictated in his will, does not automatically mean that's what the state thinks is best for you."

"Why would the state think my brother's not what's best for me?" asked Laney, her voice going up a notch.

"We have some concerns we need to address without your brothers present, so that you won't feel pressured to – well so that you'll feel you have the ability to be open and honest with me about your situation, should there be anything you might be afraid to talk about."

"Are you nuts lady?" demanded Laney, sounding for all the world, like Dean.

"Uh – no – I – uh – I am simply concerned for your well being," she stuttered.

"There's nothing to be concerned about," scoffed Laney, with a dismissive wave.

"Well, when you were brought in and evaluated, the emergency room personnel noted some injuries on your body that they didn't feel were consistent with the accident you were in; some healing superficial scratches covering your arms and legs and particularly severe lacerations on your chest that were already sutured."

Laney kept her expression neutral despite the panic that was flaring in her gut. She'd forgotten about the injuries that Meg had inflicted on her, what with all the other shit that had happened in the short time since. Even worse than that – her brothers hadn't mentioned any issues the social worker was talking about, so she had no idea what might have been said – if anything. She was going to have to tread very carefully.

"Cut to the chase. What are you implying?" asked Laney.

"That the injuries are consistent with methodical abuse or torture."

"Torture? Are you freaking kidding me?" asked Laney, barely restraining herself from screaming.

"No, Miss Winchester I am not kidding you," said the social worker, in a serious tone.

"Listen, Ms. Wiseman? I was in a car accident and I have no idea what you are talking about."

The social worker set her briefcase on the edge of Laney's bed and pulled out a thick file folder.

"I did some research into your history. Your family moved around a lot, never really settled anywhere. You did most of your education through correspondence and homeschooling, with fleeting attendance in regular schools. I know that your mother died in a fire when you weren't even a day old and at one point when you were still an infant, you were pulled from your father's care by child protective services. No one seemed to be real clear on what your father did for a living. And there are no tax records for your father or siblings."

Laney took a deep breath. Her anxiety level was spiking. The fact that this woman had poked into her past scared the living crap out of her. She didn't like anyone digging around her family business and she especially didn't like what this woman was implying.

"I'm trying to help you. If you've been abused or mistreated or neglected, you can feel safe in telling me. I will get you help."

"Are you out of your mind? Abused? My father never laid a hand on me! And Dean pretty much raised me and Sam while my Dad worked. He has never and would never hurt me. It's none of your business what my family does or doesn't do!"

"Miss Winchester, I feel with the info I've gathered that I have enough to show cause to open a formal investigation into your case in family court to establish the fitness of Dean to be your legal guardian."

Laney couldn't help the tears that sprung to her eyes. She started breathing heavily and could feel the bile rising in her throat. She was on the verge of vomiting then and there.

"I believe that you've been abused – horribly – and you're afraid to turn your brother in or admit what your father did. "

"Get out! Get out!" yelled Laney as loud as she could. She'd heard enough. She was pretty certain that if she had a weapon on her, she would have used it.

"Miss Winchester you don't have to cover for them," said the social worker, ignoring Laney's outburst. "If it was your father that did this to you then it's okay now. He's passed away and if Dean proves to be a competent guardian, then you'll be fine and we can provide support services to deal with the trauma you suffered."

"How dare you insult the memory of my father by insinuating he abused me! My father was a good man. He never hurt me!" yelled out Laney with a sob. Her body reverberated with pain.

"Then explain your injuries."

"I don't know! I don't remember! I've had brain trauma. I don't remember anything!"

"Exactly – so how can you be sure?"

"Because I know! I don't remember the accident – but I remember my whole life before that, so I know they never hurt me! Please – please – I want my brothers. Dean! Sammy!" she cried out in frustration and fear.

"Laney please calm down before you hurt yourself."

Laney was sitting nearly upright with her good leg dangling off the side of the bed. She was about to get out of the bed and remove the woman herself. Even though she knew she wasn't physically capable. It didn't stop her from trying.

"Get out!" yelled Laney, almost falling to the floor. She grasped the side table with her good hand, holding on with what little strength she had.

Dean and Sam came rushing in through the door. One glance at their sister and they could see the terror written all over her face.

"What the hell is going on?!" shouted Dean.

He glared at the social worker. He had a feeling after their last meeting that he hadn't seen the last of her. But why was she harassing his sister?

Sam rushed over to his sister's side and put his arms around her. He gently eased her back onto the bed. "Baby, what's the matter?"

"That bitch thinks you guys or Dad abused me! She's trying to get Dean declared unfit to be my guardian."

Sam put his arms tighter around his sister, as if someone was going to rip her away right then and there. He glanced at Dean, whose jaw was clenched tight – the vein at his temple throbbing.

"You're trying to do what?" asked Dean, in a low but menacing tone. He had to keep his wits about him. Tact was not necessarily in his nature, but he knew how to keep a cool head in a fight – and this – this was a fight.

"Mr. Winchester," she started, her voice faltering just a tiny bit in response to Dean's glare. "I have reason to believe that your sister may have been abused or neglected. As I was explaining to Delaney, she had some injuries that were inconsistent with those obtained in the accident. They were methodical and seemed to be intentional. I've had a lot of experience with victims of abuse over the years. I know when something is accidental and when it is not."

"I wasn't abused!" shouted Laney, her voice hoarse with tears.

Sam squeezed her and rubbed her back. He exchanged a brief glance with his brother. This was about the injuries Meg had inflicted on their sister.

"We took photographs of your injuries for documentation."

"You what?" asked the siblings simultaneously.

"After she was initially stabilized I was called in, I took photos to document the injuries to use in court."

Laney shivered. It was enough that she'd been violated by Meg, but this actually felt worse.

"My sister says she wasn't abused. Why don't you believe her?" asked Sam, through clenched teeth.

"She said that she has no memory of how she received the injuries, so I have to believe that she either she really doesn't remember or she's just trying to protect her family. I see it in cases of abuse all the times. The victims always protect the perpetrators, especially when they are related."

"Why were you even questioning her without the presence of a lawyer or advocate? I happen to know that's illegal," spat out Sam.

"That's right, you were pre-law at Stanford," said the social worker thoughtfully.

Sam and Dean's eyebrows both raised in shock.

"She was digging into our records," said Laney.

"I thought it in her best interests to research her past history. It's sketchy at best, which is another cause for concern."

"Unless you can prove a thing I don't give a shit what your concerns are," snapped Dean. "I think you need to leave now."

The social worker grabbed up her briefcase and files. The Winchester men looked like they were going to snap at any second and she wasn't going to overstay her welcome any longer.

She paused at the door before turning back to address them. "My office will be in touch. We will be pursuing this through the court system."

The bitch turned on her heels and walked out the door with a haughty glance.

Dean rubbed his hands through his hair. Why? Why couldn't people just leave his family alone? Why is everyone trying to rip away everything he has in the world?

"Dean," cried Laney, "You can't let them take me away. I can't live without you guys. I don't want to live without you guys."

Dean walked over to his sister. "Laney, no one is taking you away from us," he assured in a stern voice.

"Not a chance baby," added Sam, hoping his voice sounded convincing. The truth was that he was feeling pretty scared. He knew that an overzealous social worker could make their lives miserable. One look at Dean's face and Sam saw that that was never going to happen; so he allowed himself to relax.

Dean put an arm around his sister. She threw both of her arms around him and crushed him to her with all the strength she could muster.

"Whoa, easy there kiddo, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I don't care," she answered. And she didn't. Pain be damned, she needed to hold on tight. She couldn't stop her tears and suddenly the nausea she'd been keeping at bay was no longer willing to be ignored. She quickly pulled back from her brother.

"I'm going to be sick," she said, flailing about helplessly.

Sam grabbed a bucket from her bedside and quickly placed it under her face, pulling her hair back. Dean changed his position to support her as she leaned over retching violently. He winced with each heave as he rubbed her back in comfort and worked to keep his anger at bay.

"It's okay baby, get it all out," said Sam. He exchanged a worried glance with his brother. It hurt them to see their sister hurting so much – physically and emotionally.

"What are we going to do?" Laney whispered through her tears, as she pulled away from the bucket. She leaned back against her brother sweaty and flushed.

"You're going to take a few minutes to calm down and then we'll talk about it," said Dean, sternly.

Laney breathed deeply willing calm. Another chill passed through her. The room seemed to be colder than ever.

"You cold?" Sam asked.

Laney nodded.

Dean scooted off the bed carefully and gently got her to lay back against the bed. He pulled the covers up, tucking them in around her. Sam handed him an extra blanket and he added that to the pile.

"Thanks," she said with a sniffle.

Dean sat on the bed next to his sister and put a hand to her forehead. She felt warm, but he attributed it to her emotional state.

"What are we going to do?" she asked again, her glistening eyes staring Dean straight in the eye.

Dean sighed.

"I think you should rest," he said.

"I can't rest until we figure out what we're going to do," Laney insisted.

Dean was going to argue with her. But it would be a losing battle. Maybe they wouldn't figure out exactly what they were going to do, but maybe he could provide her some comfort to at least get her to relax. Her eyes were bright with pain and her color left a little to be desired.

"Okay, kiddo. Walk me through everything she said to you."

Laney took a deep breath and began.