AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think we can all agree that the Season Finale of Supernatural was pretty intense-I laughed, I cried, I yelled at my television! Without trying to spoil anything, all I will say is that so many characters on the show have died and come back with amazing frequency that I'm not too bothered. I have no plans to bring Adam (John Winchester's son) into the story as of now. Other characters that have been asked about, yes... However, the Winchesters and the Braedens need to settle in and get used to each other, and Charlie and Ben need to get up to some shenanigans (and trouble)!
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"All right, can you sit up, Charlie?" Imani said. She reached down and took my hands, and pulled me up to a sitting position. When our hands touched, I saw an older African-American woman in a hospital bed, with her eyes closed, and I blurted, "It doesn't matter how much you sit with her, she's still going to die."
Imani stopped what she was doing and stood still for a moment.
"She left you everything anyway because you're her favorite," I said.
Imani looked at me then, and I could see tears in her eyes. "Do you have The Sight?" she asked me in a low voice.
I heard the door open, and Daddy's voice called, "Where's my girl?"
I had started to cry without realizing it. "I'm sorry," I said to her, "I don't- I mean, I-"
Daddy hurried over. "What's wrong? What happened? Why is Charlie crying?" he asked in a concerned voice.
I looked at him. "I held her hands, and I saw-"
"Oh, sweetheart," Daddy said, and he hugged me. Then he pulled back and looked at Imani. "She didn't do it on purpose, she just—knows things sometimes, when she touches people-"
"I'm not offended," Imani said, straightening up. "I come from a long line of people with Gifts. I didn't know she had The Sight, and it surprised me."
"Imani, we've touched a lot, how come I never got anything from you before?" I asked her. She put her hands all over me when she was massaging me and exercising me.
"Well, I'm sensitive too, so I put up a wall, just so I don't take on other people's...stuff," she explained. "But right now, I'm tired, and my defenses are down today. My Nana is in hospice, in between this world and the next, and it's hard to see her that way," she looked at me. "That's who you saw."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She shrugged. "Death is a part of life," she said. "Thank you for telling me about her."
"O-okay," I said. Having people thank me for telling them what I knew was a new experience, and I wasn't sure how to handle it. I had gotten in trouble so much in the past about it that I automatically expected anger and scolding.
She brought the wheelchair over and put the locks on the wheels. "All right, let's get you set," she said. She walked over to a cabinet and took out a plastic bin, and brought it over to me. "What do you want today?"
I looked at all the candy in the bin, and chose a lollipop. "Thank you," I said. Daddy helped me off of the table and then sit in the wheelchair, and then he buckled the straps around my waist and torso.
"We'll see you in a couple of days," he told her.
"Bye, thanks," I said to her. She waved, and put her hand on the counter, watching us go to the door.
"How was it today?" Daddy asked as he pushed me back to the room. "You tired?"
"Yeah," I said.
"You want your lollipop after your nap?"
"Yeah," I yawned. He pushed the door open and wheeled me over to the bed. "Need to go to the bathroom?"
"Uh, no, I went during PT," I said. He unbuckled me and then lifted me onto the bed, taking the lollipop out of my hand and putting it in his shirt pocket. Then he tucked me in.
"Can I have the t.v. on?" I asked him.
"No, it'll distract you. Remember the doctor said that sleep is helping you heal, so you need to take good naps with no distractions."
"O—kaaay," I said. I reached for my Hello Kitty and MaryBear and pulled them next to me, and closed my eyes.
I don't know how many days it had been since I'd started getting the prickling in my hands, but by now I had gotten the feeling back in most of my body. I could move almost everything, even though some of my movements were jerky and I wasn't strong enough to hold things for very long.
My feet and lower legs didn't have much feeling still, and I kinda had trouble staying upright. But Imani had said that that was partly because of the muscles in my back and stomach getting weak from laying in bed. Every other day I got taken out of my bed to go to physical therapy now, and I had to do exercises with little weights and things like sit-ups and stretches. I had to be strapped in to the wheelchair so that I didn't fall over because my muscles were still weak.
Once I was able to sit up on my own, and then move my legs and feet better, the doctor had said I could start using a walker instead of a wheelchair. If someone held my hands and walked in front of me and led me very slowly, I could walk short distances. Daddy walked me to the bathroom at least once a day. I was able to go on my own, and deal with all that, I just needed someone to help me get up and he usually carried me back to my bed. Every once in a while when I was tired I wasn't able to tell I had to go and I had had two accidents where I peed on myself, which had humliated me, but the doctor said that that was normal. She said that I was lucky because sometimes with people who were paralyzed from accidents didn't get any function back over their bladder and bowels and had to wear a diaper. That would have been really embarrasssing if I had to do that.
When I had been getting the feeling back, it had been hard to deal with all the prickly pins-and-needles feelings. I had not had a good night's sleep in all this time, and was so tired when I came back from PT that I took a nap. The lack of sleep at night and the naps during the day and the exhaustion I felt after exercising all combined to make me cranky and emotional, and sometimes my mood would go from annoyed to weepy in a couple of seconds.
I woke up hearing low voices talking, and opened my eyes. Uncle Sam and Daddy were standing near the door, deep in conversation. I grabbed onto the bed railing and turned my body towards them, and Daddy saw the movement.
"Hey, baby girl," he said, coming over to me with a smile, "How are you feeling?"
"Okay," I said, "Can I have my lollipop?" I picked up the remote and turned on the t.v., finding the cooking channel to see if one of the contest shows that I liked was on.
Daddy grinned at me. "Well, okay, Little Miss One-Track-Mind-"
"Wait," Uncle Sam had come over to stand next to Daddy. "I have something to show you, Charlie."
He had been trying to get me interested in home-schooling, but it was too hard for me to hold the books, and I couldn't turn the pages. I got frustrated very easily these days, and I had accidentally ripped a couple of pages when my hand jerked, and then I had cried about it for a long time.
He showed me a tablet and put it in my lap. "I was able to find an online home-schooling program, and this tablet has the option of making the keys big, so you shouldn't have problems using the keyboard. And it will help the fine-motor function in your hands too, I checked with Imani."
Daddy looked at Uncle Sam. "You...checked with Imani?" he asked, with a slow smile coming to his lips.
Uncle Sam cleared his throat. "Yeah," he looked down, and it seemed like his face got a little bit red.
Daddy punched Uncle Sam's shoulder. "Sam, you dog! What'd she say?" he grinned.
"Dean..." Uncle Sam said.
"No, really, I wanna know. Was it a yes?"
"No, she said that she doesn't...fraternize with families of patients," Uncle Sam glanced at me.
"Well, you'll just have to ask her again when Charlie's out of here," Daddy said confidently.
"Ask who what?" I asked, looking back and forth at them. "What are you talking about?"
"Never mind," Uncle Sam said, pressing the on button on the tablet. "Look-"
"So I can use the tablet for my homeschooling stuff?" I asked. "Are there any games on here?"
Uncle Sam glanced at Daddy. "Yes, I downloaded a couple of games. But they're for after you get your work done, not just for any old time, understand? And getting to play games is a priviledge, and it can be taken away if you don't behave or do your work."
"Geez, Sam, way to put a wet blanket on things," Daddy said.
"I want her to know the rules going into it, so she's not surprised later," Uncle Sam said. "I expect her to do the work, and to listen to me and do what I tell her. I'm not going to let her slack off on this, this is her education."
"I know, I know," Daddy said. "Just be aware that she works hard in PT too, the poor kid needs a break sometimes!"
"And she'll get a break," Uncle Sam said. "After she's done her school work."
Daddy rolled his eyes and then winked at me. "Stick with me, kiddo, and I'll let you have all the breaks you want."
"Dean, I don't want you to undermine what I'm-"
Daddy interrupted Uncle Sam. "Sam, chill out, okay man? I'm joking around. I just want to make sure that my baby girl gets some down time."
"Oh," Uncle Sam said, opening his messenger bag. "I also charged the Kindle and put a couple of your books on here, the most recent Warrior Cats books, so you'd have something to read."
He handed the Kindle to me, but it looked different. It had a cloth cover on it that had Hello Kitty on it! I looked up at him and gave him a big smile. "Thanks, Uncle Sam!" I said happily.
"And..." he pulled something else of out his bag with a flourish. "It's a matching cover for the tablet!" He grinned at me and his dimples showed.
"Wow, thanks!" I said, holding my arms up to him. He leaned down and hugged me, chuckling a little.
"You're gonna have Hello Kitty everything one of these days," Daddy told me.
"I wouldn't mind!" I said, rubbing my hand across the cover. The Kindle cover was pink and had Hello Kitty in a pink dress, holding a book. The tablet cover was red and blue and had Hello Kitty wearing red and blue overalls, with a red bird on her paw and a blue bird on her shoulder.
"I'm also figuring out how to fit the Warrior Cats books into the curriculum so that you'll have something enjoyable to read," Uncle Sam told me.
"What's cur- ik-you-lum?" I asked slowly.
"The subjects you're going to be studying," he explained. He leaned over and tapped the tablet, and a screen came up with a list on it. "Look, I've downloaded the course work for Language Arts, Math, Science-"
"Uhhh, Uncle Sam, I, uh-I- oh NO!" I burst into tears, realizing what the warm sensation on my legs was.
I covered my face with my hands and heard Daddy asking, "What? What's wrong? Charlie, are you in pain?" I felt his hands on my wrists, trying to pull my hands away from my face.
"I—I peed on myself again!" I wailed.
"All right, shh," Daddy soothed. "It's all right, let's get you cleaned up." He leaned down and picked me up in his arms, carrying me to the bathroom. There was a square tub/shower stall in the corner.
"Daddy, you'll get wet!" I protested.
"It's okay, baby," he said. He set me down in the tub and started to take my clothes off, and called over his shoulder, "Sammy, can you grab a nurse and ask for some fresh towels?"
"On it," Uncle Sam called back.
Daddy started the water and looked at me as the water level slowly rose. "Is that okay? You doing okay?"
As long as I was leaning back, I was fine. "Yeah," I said, sniffling. I still felt humiliated when I had an accident.
He leaned over and picked up the bottle of body wash that he had brought in for me.
A nurse came to the door of the bathroom. "Ohh, what happened here?"
Daddy turned to her. "She didn't catch herself in time, and had an accident."
"Oh, dear," she stepped into the room. "You want me to take over here, Dad?" She laid down a small stack of towels and washcloths.
Daddy shook his head. "No, I'm fine."
"Well, you know, I can bathe her-" the nurse had an uncomfortable look on her face.
"It's fine, I've done this before," Daddy insisted.
The nurse stood there looking at him, and then me, for a long moment. "All right," she said doubtfully, and then left the room.
"Don't know what that's about," Daddy muttered, turning back to me. He took a washcloth and wet it, then poured some soap on it and started washing me. When he was finished, he let the water out of the tub, and then wrapped a towel around me.
"Hey, Sam," he called. "She's done."
Uncle Sam came in carrying a hospital gown, and he helped me stand up while Daddy dried me off.
"Can you step in?" Daddy asked, holding my underpants open. I was able to lift my feet and step into them instead of him having to move my legs and put my feet into the holes.
"When can I wear real clothes again?" I asked as Daddy slid the gown onto my shoulders and tied it closed.
"Dr. Miriam said that if you keep improving the way you're going, that you can start wearing regular clothes by next week and then possibly look at getting out of here the week after," Daddy told me.
"I'm tired of always wearing this," I pulled on the neck of the ugly gown.
"I know, sweetheart," Daddy said. "You just have to be patient. Oh wait, you are. Get it? Patient? As is, you're already a patient?" he grinned at me.
"Dadd-yyy," I rolled my eyes, and Uncle Sam shook his head. "Dean, that was a really bad one," he said.
Daddy laughed. "I thought it was pretty good myself!" he said. "Ready?" he took my hands.
"I don't want to walk," I whined. "I'm tired."
"How can you be tired, you just woke up from a nap?" Uncle Sam asked.
Daddy bent down and scooped me up into his arms. "That's okay, I'll carry my girl," he said, carrying me back out to the room. The sheets on the bed had been changed, but the bed looked different.
"What's this?" I asked, noticing that there was a new blanket on the bed.
"Oh, the nurse brought this in when she brought the sheets, said it had been left at the front desk," Uncle Sam said. He handed me a little card. "This came with it."
I looked down at the blanket- it was a soft fleece blanket with little Hello Kittys all over it! I opened the card. It said, "Hopefully this will make your room a little bit more cheerful, Love, Ben and Lisa."
I looked up at Daddy. "It's from Ben and Lisa!" I said excitedly.
"That was nice of them," Daddy said with a smile. "Hey, did you get a weird vibe from that nurse that was in here before?" he asked Uncle Sam.
"Oh, yeah," Uncle Sam agreed. "She kinda...hinted...that she thinks it's 'inappropriate' for us to be bathing Charlie and all that."
"Oh for crap's sake, she's eight years old!" Daddy said with annoyance. "What the hell is wrong with people?"
Uncle Sam shook his head. "I don't know, Dean."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Nothing, Charlie, don't worry about it," Daddy said.
"Stop telling me that!" I flared. "How come you keep saying that?"
"Because, little girl, you don't need to know about every little thing that we talk about," Daddy said to me.
I folded my arms and frowned at him, and he chuckled. "Don't make that pouty face at me."
"I'm not pouting!" I grumped.
"Yeah, you are, and stop it," Daddy said, and pulled a strand of my hair.
There was a knock on the door and a nurse brought in my dinner tray. She set it down on the little tray table. "Here you go," she said with a smile.
"Thank you," Daddy said to her. She left, and he looked at me. "Dr. Miriam also said that you might be able to go down to the cafeteria for meals once you're walking better, too, as exercise."
"Okay!" I said, smiling at him.
"Don't get too excited, cafeteria food isn't that great," Uncle Sam told me.
Daddy took the top off and looked at the plate. "Hmm, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, salad and Jell-o. That meatloaf looks kinda good. See if they have that at the cafeteria for me, Sam."
"All right," Uncle Sam said.
Daddy picked up the fork and began to cut the meatloaf into little pieces.
"Shouldn't you be letting her do that?" Uncle Sam asked him.
"Oh, yeah," Daddy stopped, and looked at me. "You want to try?"
"You cut it up for me, I want to feed myself," I told him.
Ten minutes later, I was ready to cry with anger. Uncle Sam was showing Daddy how to access stuff on the tablet, so they weren't really paying attention to me, which was okay with me. I felt embarrassed when they watched me try to feed myself.
I had dropped two pieces of meatloaf already, and one of them had gotten gravy on my new blanket, which had annoyed me. Then the lettuce wouldn't stay on the fork. I was going to feed myself, though, I had to do it for myself- I wasn't a baby anymore!
I pushed the spoon into the mashed potatoes and then tried to bring it up to my mouth; my hand shook so hard that I couldn't get it close to my face and a blob of potatoes fell onto the bed.
"Dammit to all hell," I gritted out under my breath.
"What did you just say?" Uncle Sam asked. Both he and Daddy turned their heads towards me.
"I—I can't do it!" I yelled, lifting my hand up and throwing the spoon angrily. It felt good to throw something and express the frustration that I'd had inside all this time.
The spoon whizzed right by Uncle Sam's head and a small clump of potato that had been left on the spoon fell onto his shoulder. He and Daddy were looking at me with identical shocked looks on their faces.
"Charlotte Anne!" both Daddy and Uncle Sam said at the exact same moment, and they hurried over to my bedside.
"You do not throw things like that!" Daddy said, at the same time Uncle Sam was saying, "No throwing things, and watch your language!"
I stared up at them, and then I burst into tears. "It's not faaaaaaaiiirr!" I wailed, covering my face with my hands.
I felt the bed give as someone sat down. "What's not?" Daddy asked gently.
"I can't—I can't do anything!" My mood was ruined now, and I felt like giving up. I leaned into Daddy's chest.
"Sweetheart, you have to give yourself time. You haven't been using your muscles and you have to- to kind of re-train them to get used to doing what they did before," he explained. I felt his hands on my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. He tilted my head up so that I was looking in his eyes.
"Give yourself a break," he said. "You're not going to be back to normal right away." He picked up a napkin and wiped my face off, and then stood up.
Uncle Sam had walked across the room and picked up the spoon. He came out of the bathroom, drying it off with a paper towel, and put in back on the tray.
"Maybe you should let your Dad feed you for now, honey," he said.
I glared at him, getting angry all over again, and grabbed the spoon. "Maybe you should shut up," I snapped.
He gaped at me. "What did you just say to me?" he looked at Daddy. "Dean? Are you hearing this?"
Daddy looked uncomfortable. "Charlie-" he said.
Uncle Sam leaned over and picked the remote up off the bed next to me. He pressed a button and turned off the t.v. "No t.v. for the rest of the evening," he said.
"Hey!" I complained. "You can't do that!"
"I just did," he said in a hard voice. "What do you have to say to me, young lady?"
"I—I-" I glared up at him. "You're mean! Gimme the remote!" I tried to pull myself forward using the bed railing.
Uncle Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what's going on with you, young-"
"This isn't fair!" I yelled. "I—I hate this, I couldn't move at all, and now I can't hold on to anything and my hands go all over the place-" I clenched my fists and drummed them on the bed next to me. I tried to kick my feet too but I could barely move my legs, which made me feel more upset.
"Charlie-" Daddy was saying, holding his hands up.
Uncle Sam put his hands on his hips. "You need to apolog-"
My fist hit the edge of the tray table and I wasn't expecting it, and a wave of pain shot up my arm from my hand. "OWW!" I screamed, and burst into tears again. The dishes clattered against each other when my hand hit the table, and Daddy leaned forward and caught the dish of Jell-o that almost fell off.
I grabbed my hurting hand with my other hand and held them to my chest. Daddy sat down again and then took me in his arms, rubbing the back of my head and my back.
"Shh," he said, "It's okay, you're going to be okay. I know it's frustrating, sweetheart," He pulled back and took my hands. "Let me see, what did you do?"
I looked up at him through my tears. "It hurts a lot, Daddy," I said pitifully. He held my hand up and kissed it, and then hugged me again. "You've got to be careful, baby."
"Dean-" Uncle Sam said, looking down at us.
"Sam, back off, would you? She just got hurt, and she's having a rough time!" Daddy snapped at him. "Why don't you let me feed you now, hmm?" he asked gently.
"No, I'm not hungry any more," I sniffled. "I just want- just leave me alone."
"You sure?" Daddy leaned down and looked at my face.
"Yes!" I snapped, pulling my hands away from him. I laid back and turned my head to the side, away from him, and stared at the wall.
After a moment, he sighed, and then got up. He moved the tray table away from the bed, and then he and Uncle Sam walked over near the door and began to talk in low voices again.
Uncle Sam left the room, and Daddy walked over to the cot and sat down, putting his head in his hands. He sighed heavily, and I felt bad for him. He had been in this room with me pretty much the whole time I had been at the hospital, and he had only just started to leave me when I went to the physical therapy room.
"Daddy-" I said to him, and he raised his head and looked at me. His eyes were tired and he had wrinkles in his forehead. I held my arms out to him, and he got up and came over to me. Then he leaned down, picking me up and putting me on his lap, and snuggled me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned my head on his chest again.
"We'll get there, baby girl," he said quietly. "We'll figure this all out."