I'm back! Did ya miss me?
I don't own Supernatural.
The number on the sign almost glowed in the headlights' glow.
"This is ridiculous. We are not doing this."
"Aw, come on, Sammy. I could have dragged you to a faith healer."
"How is this not like going to a hospital?"
"I bet it will be cheaper. And I doubt they'll have our record on file."
"I'm not calling."
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out his own phone. "Fine." He dialed the number, making sure to *67. It rang an incredibly long time before a tired female voice answered.
"'Lo?" she asked groggily.
Dean threw the phone at Sam, who scrambled to catch it.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" The voice sounded annoyed now.
"Um, yeah, uh, hi." Sam glared at Dean.
"Who is this?"
"Uh, this is Dan. Smith. Dan Smith. Is this Dr. Taylor?"
"Yes. Is this an emergency?"
"Yes, I." Sam looked to Dean for help, but he just shrugged. "My dog. He was hit by a car."
"How long ago?"
"I don't know. I think an hour. He just came back home."
"How is he acting?"
"Acting?"
The voice sighed and a shuffling sound came over the speaker. "Yes. Is he walking? Crying? Bleeding?"
"Uh, he isn't using his arm, er, leg."
Dean helpfully made his impression of a whining dog.
"And he's crying." Sam shot Dean another look and moved away. "Though he does that a lot. He's a bit of a baby."
"Well, he did just get hit by a car. Where are you right now?"
"At the office."
"Okay. I'll be there in ten minutes. Try to keep him calm." The call ended abruptly.
Sam snapped the phone shut and turned to his brother with a very exasperated bitch face. "I cannot believe we are doing this."
"You wanted me to get help."
"But she's not going to help us."
"Sure she will."
"You are not a dog, Dean. We have no animals at all. Why would she help us?"
Dean shrugged. "We'll think of something."
"You'll think of something. This is your master plan. She's probably going to call the cops as soon as she sees us."
"I'll just wait in the car then. She'll trust you. You have that," Dean gestured up and down Sam's length. "Trust me thing." He went and laid down across the Impala's front seats as Sam perched himself on the hood. He was exhausted, but was trying to hide it. He used to be able to go days on only a few hours of sleep, but now it seemed like he needed a nap every few hours. He hated it. But he couldn't stop himself from dozing while they waited, his arm cradled to his chest.
His thoughts drifted back to the crash. The accuracy of the pipe. Sam had said that Father Gregory had been at the church until he was successful given last rights. Even ghosts couldn't be in two places at once.
A tap on the window alerted Dean to the vet's arrival. He stayed down, listening as the car door slammed and footsteps approached the Impala.
"Is he in the car?" the muffled female voice asked.
"Yeah," Sam replied. For lying to people on a daily basis he was having real trouble with this charade.
"Alright, well, get him out and bring him to the back room." The bell above the door jingled as she entered and the beginnings of an alarm could be heard before she shut it off.
Sam jerked the door open and Dean looked up at him. "I hope you have a plan."
Dean slid out and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "'Course I do."
The pair entered the office, the bell jingling again.
"Back here!" she called from down the main hallway. "Hurry!"
The brothers exchanged a glance and Sam gestured for Dean to go first. He walked down the hallway, past the two dark exam rooms with glinting metal tables, to the back room that looked like a surgery. The tile floor was cracked in places and the walls looked off white in an old sort of way.
"Put him on the table." Dr. Taylor didn't look up from where she was busily working. She was old and tiny, maybe five foot, but had an air of authority. Her white hair was cut short to her chin and was perfectly straight even though she had just been woken by the brothers less than half an hour ago. "Come on, I don't have all—" She turned and froze when she saw the two men filling the doorway. She stared for a moment, taking in the lack of dog and appearance of Dean. "There isn't a dog, is there?"
Dean shook his head.
"What are you? Druggies? All the good stuff's locked up and I'm not giving you the key."
"What? No," Sam began.
"We just need some help." Dean supplied.
"Why? Can't go to a people hospital?"
"Uh, no." Sam glanced at Dean.
The doctor's eyes narrowed.
"We don't have the money. We're desperate." Dean supplied.
"Well, I'm not a human doctor. Didn't you see the dog on the sign?"
"Please." Sam took a step forward.
"Don't come any closer." She revealed a large syringe in her right hand. "I figured something was up. There's enough tranquilizer in here to kill a horse."
"We don't want any trouble." Sam looked back at Dean with the look of 'now would be a good time for that plan of yours.'
"I've had a very long night. I tailed a creep, saved a girl's life, and I think I broke my arm in the process. I can't go to the hospital because I don't want to deal with the cops."
The woman stared at him without blinking. Dean didn't like her scrutinizing gaze, but refused to squirm. "You look like shit." Dean had to admit he was a little taken aback by the language. "You said you hurt your arm?"
"Yeah."
"Well, get over here so I can take a look."
Dean hesitated at the still brandished syringe.
"I promise not to drug you." She placed the syringe on the table behind her and reached out to take Dean's arm. "Come on." Dean slowly moved toward her, ready to jump away at the slightest sign of foul play. She pressed lightly around the bruise and toward the center. Dean flinched when she got too close to the center. "Hold still, now. I know it hurts." Dr. Taylor carefully extended the arm as far as Dean would let her and attempted to rotate his hand. She picked the syringe back up and lightly jabbed at his fingers. "Can you feel this?" Dean nodded. "Good." She released Dean's arm and he pulled it back to his chest.
"What do you think?" Sam asked.
"It's broken. Need an x-ray. I already had it all set up for Fido. Might as well use it for you." The doctor moved behind a giant machine that looked like it was older than the office. She flipped it on and it whirled to life, a light shining on the table it hovered over. "Put your elbow right under that shadow X. Flat as you can against the table." She jerked her chin at Sam. "Hey, Lumberjack, you might want to wait in the other room. This machine could mess with your manhood."
Sam's eyes widened and he shot a look at Dean before backing out of the room.
"Should I be worried?" Dean asked.
"Do you plan on procreating?"
Dean opened and shut his mouth.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Don't move."
She clicked the button and the machine clicked before Dean could change his mind. "That wasn't so bad, right?"
"Yeah. Sure." Dean shifted uncomfortably.
"This isn't a new machine so I'll have to develop the film myself. You two stay put. And better get a story straight. I'll be expecting one." She disappeared into a small darkroom.
Dean got up and went to find Sam who had not only left the room but stepped out of the hospital entirely. "You can come back in."
"Can't be too safe."
"Yeah, well, I apparently wasn't a concern at all," Dean said dryly.
"Where is she?"
"Developing the film. She's gonna wanna know what happened."
"What are we going to tell her?"
Dean shrugged. "I was hoping you had some ideas."
I am so sorry this is later than I said. Finals caught up with me. That is all over now though so things should be fine.
Hope you enjoyed this, it's a bit longer. And what can I say, I have a soft spot for sassy old ladies!
Read and Review!
~abrokencastiel
