AN: This chapter has some suicidal ideation/planning in it. Nothing too extreme, but I wanted to warn anyone who might need to know.
It was the soft beeping of the heart monitor that filtered into Dean's consciousness first. Then the smell. Hospitals everywhere always had that tang of antiseptic in the air and the cloying scent of bleach on the sheets. Finally, he felt the pressure of a finger oximeter and the heavy weight of a cast on his arm. He didn't bother to open his eyes yet. It was nice to drift in this quiet, peaceful fog. The fact that he wasn't in pain meant that he was doped up on some of the really good drugs. Thankfully, Dean knew from experience that they didn't make him loopy and silly like they did Sam.
And then it hit him. Sam was dead. He had seen Death herself take his soul. Suddenly his heart felt like it was constricting within his chest, and he couldn't breathe. One of the monitors started to beep more rapidly. How could he have forgotten, even for a second, that his brother, his very reason for existing, was gone? Death had said that he and Sam were important in some way to 'the larger picture' but he didn't trust Billie. His mind began to race. He had to get out of here, find some way to get to Sammy, to bring him back. On the edge of panic, Dean struggled to push through the fog, trying and failing to force his body to move. Then there was a cool hand on his face.
"Dean? Honey, you need to calm down." He recognized the soft voice and with an effort opened his eyes.
"Mom," he tried to say, but his words failed him. His mouth felt full of cotton as his eyes met hers. Mom was leaning over him. She seemed tired, but so beautiful, her hair falling around her face like a blonde veil. It tickled at some long-forgotten memory of his childhood. She stroked a thumb across his cheek tenderly brushing against the fine coat of stubble.
"It's okay Dean, you're going to be okay. Just breathe," she murmured to him, searching his eyes. It took a minute to slow down his breathing, but eventually he gave her a tiny nod and she smiled at him. With a last caress, she stepped back and gave Dean his first look at the room.
It was a hospital room, both bright and drab and no different from dozens that he'd been in before. If he turned his head, he could see that his left shoulder was immobilized by a sling, his right wrist was encased in a thick plaster cast. Mom was standing on one side of the bed patiently waiting as he got oriented. On the other side was Cas. The angel looked even more rumpled than usual but gave him what passed for a smile.
"Hello Dean," he grumbled with his broken glass voice. Dean struggled to push aside the groggy feeling from the drugs and the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Cas. I saw Billie… she took Sam." He choked over the words and Mom put a comforting hand on his bicep above the cast, so he turned to look at her. "I couldn't stop Michael," he confessed to his mother. Her eyes were warm but sparkled with unshed tears.
"I know Dean. It's going to be okay." At that he had to shake his head. Death had taken Sam; it was so very far from okay. He shook his head harder even though it awoke a vague ache that made it arduous to think clearly.
"He's gone, Mom. I'm so sorry."
She brushed her hand through his hair like she had when he was a child. "Oh honey, you have nothing to be sorry for." Cas cleared his throat slightly and Dean realized that someone else had come into the room. The doctor stepped up to the bed and gave Dean the professional look of sympathy that meant bad news was coming.
"Mr. Campbell, I'm Doctor Choi. How are you feeling?" It was a stupid question, so Dean pointedly ignored it. The doctor was ostensibly used to this kind of reaction because he carried on anyway. "Mr. Campbell, you have a number of extensive injuries that we've done our best to treat. I'd like to fill you in on your condition if you're feeling up to it?" Dean found he really didn't care. Sam was dead and he'd promised that if they died, that they'd go together. So, the fact that Dean was still here was a failure, one that he intended to fix as soon as he got the chance. The doctor seemed to take his silence as permission but before the doc could start, Dean needed some space.
"Um, would you guys mind stepping outside for a minute?" he asked, swiveling his gaze from Mom to Cas.
xxxxxx
Mary was pacing the hallway while Doctor Choi was in with Dean. She didn't like him hearing about his paralysis alone, but he had asked that she and Castiel leave the room, and she couldn't think of a good reason to deny him. Still, she had a bad feeling about his state of mind. The only bright side to his injuries was that he couldn't get out of bed and do anything rash. At least she hoped. Every time she thought something was impossible, her sons proved her wrong. If even half of what Cas had told her about what Sam and Dean had lived through was true, she would be a fool to underestimate either one.
In this case that only made her worry more. Dean didn't seem like himself. When she'd first come back, and they had discovered that Sam had been kidnapped, Dean had been determined, forceful and intense. Now he seemed distraught, broken in a way she hadn't expected. A tiny voice in her head reminded her that she didn't really know her eldest child, but she silenced it quickly. Admittedly she hadn't spent a lot of time with Dean. She found it easier to try and find the sweet boy she remembered in the world-weary hunter rather than get to know him as an adult. That was her fault, one she had hoped to begin to fix if he gave her a chance. But one thing she did know beyond a shadow of a doubt was how much Dean loved his brother. It was in everything he did for Sam, every fond look, every protective gesture. She was worried about her son.
"Mary," Castiel held out a hand, stopping her from completing another aimless loop of the corridor. "Dean will be okay. He is strong, and once Jack heals him; we can tackle how to get Sam back together." She appreciated the angel's reassurance. If anyone truly did know her boys, it was him. Over time she had grown to care for their strange, serious friend. He may be an angel, but he was also a good man and oddly she considered him almost like another son. Patting his arm in acknowledgement, she leaned against the wall beside him.
Dr. Choi exited Dean's room and made his way over to where they were standing. Instinctively they both straightened, bracing for more bad news, but the doctor gave them an encouraging if practiced smile.
"Dean seems to have taken the news quite well. I have outlined a number of treatments that we can pursue once the swelling goes down and his arm injuries heal. He shows signs of amazing progress with his head injury and although they will be slow to mend, his ribs are stable. Should the paralysis of his legs be permanent, with time and physiotherapy we can hopefully help him to regain some mobility and adapt to his new circumstances. It's important to have a positive attitude and the support of his…" at this the doctor paused and glanced at his clipboard. Mary knew that he was trying to identify their relationship to Dean.
"We will be here to help Dean with whatever he needs," she rescued him. The less thought he gave to their thin cover story the better.
"Good, a solid circle of support will be vital. Well, if you'll excuse me." The doctor slid past them and headed back to the nursing station. Mary started towards Dean's room, when Castiel snagged her sleeve.
"Mary, you look exhausted. You've been here all night, why don't you take my car and go home. You can check in on Jack and make sure Rowena isn't plundering the Bunker. I'll stay with Dean." Her first reaction was to reject his offer, but then she thought about it for a moment. She hadn't really slept or eaten in over a day. As a mother she wanted to stay, but as a hunter, she knew that sometimes it was the smarter move to let someone else take watch.
"Okay, Castiel. Thank you." He handed her his keys. Now that the decision had been made, she felt the lack of sleep weigh on her.
"I'll tell Dean that you'll be back later. And I will call you if anything happens," he promised. Impulsively, she stepped closer and gave him a quick hug before heading towards the elevator.
xxxxxx
Alone in his room, Dean didn't spend very long thinking about what the doctor had said. He'd nodded and acted like he cared, but it didn't matter. What he needed to figure out was how to get what he needed. Ideally, he'd steal enough drugs for an overdose. It had worked before and this time he wouldn't need to worry about the aftereffects of naloxone. But he couldn't currently move his legs, so breaking into the drug locker wasn't an option.
Maybe he could palm a scalpel or other sharp blade. It would be bloody, but if he did it late at night just after the nurses did their rounds, he could bleed out before they found him. A small part of him was disgusted at this kind of thinking. Winchesters didn't quit. But he was so damn tired. If there was a chance to get Sam back, he'd do anything, give anything, but there was no getting his brother back this time. Death would make sure of it, and without Sammy, what was the point of fighting anymore? They had rescued Mom, Lucifer was dead, Cas had Jack, so once they got over the shock, they would all see that it just made sense. He'd done enough, sacrificed enough and he just wanted to follow his brother into the afterlife. Was that so wrong?
There was a soft knock on his door and Cas peeked his head around as he opened it. Now that Dean was feeling calmer, it was good to see him. Maybe he couldn't take the risk of saying goodbye, but just knowing that Cas was going to be around to look after things made him feel a little less guilty about what he was planning to do.
"Hey Cas," he greeted the angel.
"Dean," Cas intoned in his familiar rumble. "I suggested that your mother go home and get some rest. She'll be back later." Dean felt a pang of regret. He had hoped to see Mom one last time, but maybe it would be better this way. Mary Winchester had hunter instincts and it would be tough to hide his plan from her. It was going to be hard enough to sell the bluff to Cas. Gripping the end of the bed frame, Cas stood watching him as the awkward pause grew.
"Good, uh, that's good. Mom needs her rest. Hey, are you alright?" Dean asked his oldest friend. In replaying the fight in his head, he realized that Cas spent most of it either knocked out or slumped over some injury.
"I'm fine. The wound Lucifer gave me is almost gone. I just need to give my grace some time to regenerate." He hung his head, avoiding eye contact. "I uh, I took the liberty of doing what I could to fix the damage from the concussion you sustained, but I don't have enough power to remedy your other injuries."
"Forget about me. What happened to your grace?" Dean knew that with his tenuous link to Heaven, Cas' powers were not always at full strength.
"Michael consumed it in order to revive himself after Jack's attack. But he did not take it all, so it will renew itself eventually."
Dean felt sad for his friend. Sam had told him once that for an angel, having grace removed was agonizing. Thinking of Sam was a bad idea because now Dean had to swallow down a wave of emotion. Maybe some of what he was feeling showed on his face because Cas frowned at him.
"Dean, you do know that once Jack recovers, he will heal you? This paralysis isn't permanent." The words tumbled out in a rush and Dean held up a few fingers to stop him. That was the least of his concerns right now. Apparently, he'd missed a lot of what had happened after Lucifer had tossed him around.
"Wait, tell me about Jack?" The kid had a good heart. He was a bit impulsive maybe, but so was Dean sometimes. After everything that had happened, it was obvious that Sam was right. Jack wasn't evil, just young, powerful, and easily manipulated, but Cas would look out for the boy.
"I'm not certain, but it appears that when Jack killed Lucifer and Michael, he absorbed their essences. And because Michael had recently taken my grace, he absorbed some of mine too. I speculate that his human side couldn't cope with so much at once. But he is resting, and I believe that he is on his way to adjusting." There were far too many unknowns in that explanation for Dean's taste, but then he reminded himself of his plan. Whatever was going on with Jack, wasn't going to be his problem to deal with.
Cas abandoned his spot at the end of the bed and moved a little closer. "Are you okay?" the angel asked, then shook his head. "Sorry, foolish question. Of course, you're worried about Sam. But Dean, we will find a solution to bring him back."
Dean found himself reluctantly meeting the angel's blue eyes. It was kind of Cas to try and reassure him. The thought of leaving his best friend behind brought an uncomfortable stab of guilt. There was so much he wanted to tell Cas, to thank him for, but instead Dean lied to his face. "I know, Cas."
xxxxxx
By Sam's estimate, he and Leah were left in that shed for at least an hour, maybe more. He had simply lowered his arms and listened carefully to be sure no one was coming, but nothing he said to Leah would persuade her to do the same for more than a few moments. She seemed convinced that somehow Abraham or Damaris would know that she had disobeyed. Her fear of her parents was all encompassing and had kept her trying to hold the pose for much longer than Sam would have thought her young muscles could take. When Damaris opened the door, Leah's arms were visibly shaking with the intense strain and she was swaying on her knees, sweating and weeping softly. Sam, even though he had conserved his strength by defying their orders, still had aching knees and shoulders from the small amount of time he had held the position.
Damaris glared at them. "Alright, I hope you both have learned your lesson and have confessed your sins." The woman had them collect and restore the gravel to the bucket and hang the crosses back on the wall. Sam felt stiff and sore although he imagined that the young form he was currently inhabiting would bounce back much quicker than his 35-year-old body would. When she was satisfied that the outbuilding was pristine, she led them back to the house. Thankfully, they were assigned a seat at the table with some of the women working in the kitchen and after a lengthy prayer, provided with a meal.
After lunch Damaris led them back to the barn where they rejoined the other children for lessons. They were divided into two groups based on gender and a woman Sam hadn't seen before proceeded to teach the boys an appalling mishmash of middle school material soaked through with religious dogma. According to this woman, the earth was only about 6,000 years old, and all evolution took place in a seven-day period. When she described dinosaurs as dragons that were killed in the flood that floated Noah's ark, Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Trying to ignore the teacher, Sam schooled his face in what he hoped was mild interest and spent the time planning his next move.
Sam had heard some of the other children talking about camping out and had gleaned that the boys were going to be sleeping in a set of tents that had been set up behind the barn. He figured that once everyone was asleep, he would sneak out and make his way to a telephone. Ideally, he could creep inside again and find the phone, but he couldn't risk getting caught again. Instead, he would make the trek to the nearby town of Elden. One of the teens had commented that the farm they were on was only about three or four miles away which, although tough on foot at Noah's age, was walkable if he timed it right. Part of him wanted to boost one of the cars and just drive himself home, but he doubted that a 10-year-old could make the 15 or so hour drive without attracting attention.
The other factor that was holding him back was what would happen to Leah if he disappeared. If this morning's punishment were any indication, she would be subjected to further abuse. Until he could get help, or take her with him, he wasn't just going to leave the girl behind. The dreary teachings finally came to an end with a lengthy discussion of "character," which preached submissiveness and warned that any negative emotions were an affront to God. Sam had never spent a more frustrating afternoon in his life, but he felt more confident that he had a working plan.