I do not own Supernatural. If I did, Jess would still be alive and Dean would be an uncle by now.
My thanks to Fanpire101 for beta-reading this chapter and for helping me with John Winchester, who is even more of a pain in the ass than his sons. Any remaining errors are mine.
I also appreciate the comments from Fanpire101 and Marblewolf on the previous chapter. :)
Cross-posted at Archive of Our Own.
Sam sat in the waiting room of the surgical wing with a clipboard of papers in his lap and Jess by his side. The first few pages had been easy - he could rattle off Dean's age, birth date, and medical history without too much trouble. He used Bobby's salvage yard for Dean's home address. Normally, the Winchesters filled out hospital forms to fit the profile of whomever they were scamming for the week, but not this time. Jess' father worked at this hospital and that posed a huge problem for Sam. He studied the blank page of insurance information with a deep frown. He touched pen to paper at the line marked "responsible party", looked at Jess, and then looked back to the paper. This went on for several minutes until Jess spoke.
"Sam, what's wrong?"
He sighed. "Dean doesn't have any medical insurance."
She shrugged. "So? He can pay out of pocket. You can set up payment plans. I heard my Dad talk about it one time."
The father in question had already called Jess once to check on Dean, and Sam knew that he would personally oversee the care of his baby girl's soon-to-be brother-in-law. On one hand, Sam was touched that Jess' dad would make the effort. On the other, he knew this summer was a test drive with her family to make certain that he was good enough for their little girl. Sam couldn't stomach the idea of leaving this equation in Dean's hands.
"Jess, his job doesn't pay very well. Like at all." Sam chewed his lip.
"What are you saying?" Jess studied her fiancé's troubled expression.
"He needs the surgery." Sam pulled out the puppy dog eyes and Jess frowned.
He saw the exact moment realization hit because her eyes widened like saucers. "Sam, you set that money aside for our wedding! You can't be serious!"
The door to the surgical wing swung open and a harried nurse in blue scrubs called out, "Mr. Winchester? Is there a relative of Dean Winchester here?"
Sam stood and walked over. "That would be me. I'm his brother. Is there a problem?"
The nurse shook her head. "Come with me." She turned and began to walk back toward the swinging doors.
Sam's hands flailed at her as his eyes widened. "Is he okay? What's going on?"
The nurse stopped to look at him and gave a slight chuckle. "I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester. Didn't mean to frighten you. Your brother is fine. But now that we gave him something to take the edge off and he's properly hydrated, he's refusing to consent to surgery. He's lucid enough to make that decision, but it's a bad idea. We were hoping you could talk some sense into him."
Jess charged over to Sam and tugged at his sleeve. Sam held up a hand to the nurse and turned his attention back to his fiancée. "What?" he barked.
"Maybe Dean has a point."
"What? Why?"
"Maybe we should wait until you make contact with your Dad. He might know of a cheaper place to get this done. Plus, it doesn't make sense for you to be liable for him, Sam! That's your dad's job! Didn't you say your brother works for your dad?"
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Jess, you don't understand."
She folded her arms and glared up at him. "I understand that your dysfunctional family turned up and now you're trying to play the savior. Sam, this is our future! Dean's medical bills could bankrupt us! We hardly have anything saved back as it is! You don't have any idea how much all of this is gonna cost!"
"He's my brother, Jess! I can't believe you would even suggest this."
"A brother you haven't spoken to in three years, Sam! Not once, in the whole time we've been together."
"Jess, please. It's complicated." He reached a hand to her as she pulled away from him, not realizing that the nurse was still watching this interplay.
The older woman sighed. "We'll get your brother stabilized as best we can, Mr. Winchester, and draw up his discharge papers, but he's going against medical advice. That arm is ripe for infection. He needs immediate surgical treatment." She stood her ground, clearly wanting a different outcome.
Sam looked between his fiancée, who had walked over to the bank of windows in tears, and back at the impatient nurse. A growing pit of despair filled his stomach.
The elevator dinged at that moment and a bearded man in heavy flannel walked toward the awkward little group. He addressed the nurse. "I'm looking for my son, Dean. I heard he was brought up here for surgery."
Jess watched the color drain out of Sam's face.
"Dad?" he whispered.
"Sam." John acknowledged his son with a barely visible tip of his head, but no other outward reaction.
Sam folded his arms around himself, shoulders slumped. He was still clinging to Dean's clipboard of paperwork.
Jess frowned as she watched her fiancé. This is the father he hasn't seen in three years? Not even a handshake?
His face blank, Sam's eyes darted around the room as he gaped like a lost fish. Jess inched closer to Sam, feeling protective of him despite her earlier annoyance.
"How did you know Dean was here?" The worried wrinkle in Sam's wide forehead peeked out beneath his bangs. Jess reached a tentative hand in Sam's direction and he grasped her fingers in his like a drowning man.
"Heard a report of an abandoned Impala on the police scanner. I knew your brother would never leave that car, so I did a little digging." He tipped his head at Jess. "And who might this be?"
Sam's head was down, hair in his eyes. "Dad, this is Jessica Moore, my girlfriend. Jess, this is my father, John."
Jess pressed her lips together, stung that Sam hadn't introduced her as his fiancée. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winchester," she squeaked out, and John returned the handshake without a word.
The grumpy nurse cleared her throat. "Touching as all this is, Dean Winchester needs to authorize surgery or we're going to have to release him."
Both Sam and John moved toward the swinging doors, Jess tailing after them. The nurse blocked their path. "Only one of you can go back."
The Winchester men stared at each other and Jess could feel the tension radiating from Sam. It was obvious that he didn't want John involved in making Dean's medical decisions, but she wasn't clear on why.
"Sam," John said, taking the clipboard out of his son's hands, "this doesn't concern you." He nodded at the nurse.
Sam bodily blocked the swinging doors, his large frame preventing anyone from moving forward. "No, Dad. Let me handle this."
John raised an eyebrow at Sam. "What?"
Sam's face pinched in, contorted in defiant anger. "My family works here," he said, and Jess felt a surge of pride. He bit his lip and stared at John. "Your insurance isn't good here."
John nodded. "Then we'll get him taken care of somewhere else." He tipped his head at the nurse a second time, but once again, Sam threw himself in front of them, blocking their path.
"No, Dad, you won't. I know you. You'll try to reset his arm on your own. Just like last time." Jess felt her own face pale and the nurse's expression shifted from annoyed to concerned. Both women stared at the Winchester men. "He needs the surgery," Sam continued, defiantly. "He could lose use of that arm."
"Samuel." John's voice was cold and deep. "This is neither the time nor the place."
"And that's where you're wrong, Dad," Sam argued, his voice rising. "This is exactly the time. Dean needs you to make the best decisions for him when he can't. Not what's convenient for you or what's least expensive!"
Sam's words rang in the air like a punch. John looked like he might hit Sam, and Jess found herself backing away. The nurse scurried over to the receptionist on duty, no doubt looking to call security.
Nostrils flaring, Sam refused to turn his back to John. He ripped the clipboard from his father's hands, signed his name on the line reading "responsible party", shoved the paperwork at the nurse, and barged through the swinging doors.