A/N: alrighty folks – I wasn't too sure about this chapter, being that I wrote it at 3 AM and that usually doesn't bode well for grammar and such…so I've edited it and fixed a bit with the Dean Characterization.
Hope you like it, and remember: Feedback is rewarded with lots and lots of candy!
Brightly lit and impersonal, the emergency room was nearly empty. Industrial Vinyl chairs were bolted to tidy metal bars, and a tiny TV in the corner replayed the latest football game.
The glass doors slid open in front of the trio, the girl from the highway barely reached Dean's armpit as she hobbled forward, leaning against him. Her eyes stared off unblinking and remote. Dean could feel her shivering violently, but her face was blank – eerily calm – silent and half-dead looking under the glare of the halogen lights.
The low humming of computer terminals and the buzz of the TV filled the stale hospital air. Sam wrinkled his nose, and remembered once again why he didn't like hospitals – they all smell the same – like antiseptic.
"Okay, I need to know your name so the nurse can admit you," Sam said, his hand light like a bird on her waist, barely there, but reassuring.
"What?" It took her a moment to realize what he'd asked. "Oh. It's Sasha."
Her eyes wandered to her hand as it hung loosely by her side, shaking. Sasha's eyebrows knit together, staring at it in an aggravated sort of puzzlement. She shook it briskly and clenched it into a fist. "Umm – It's Sasha Keynes."
"Alright," Sam took her fist, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm just gonna talk to the nurse."
"Okay," she murmured, taking an uncertain step toward the blue-green vinyl seats.
"Whoa," Dean breathed, his large hands catching her about the waist as she faltered, wincing. "Careful okay? You're already broken enough."
He took her hand and placed it on his hip so she could support herself, wrapping his arm roughly under her shoulder. "Just stick with me alright? We'll get you there."
The nurses sat behind a tall off-white counter, flipping intently through a clipboard. Sam leaned forward, "Hi – umm, my friend is really hurt – she's bleeding and I think she's in shock,"
The nurse flicked her eyes upwards, her glasses sliding down the perch of her nose. Hastily she put her index finger against the bridge-piece and pushed them up. "And her name is?"
"Sasha Keynes," he answered, his too-long hair falling into his eyes. He brushed the strands from his vision and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"What happened?" The nurse, whose tag said Loretta, questioned, glancing past him brusquely, then returning to her clipboard, where she scribbled Sasha's name.
"I don't really know – but she's bleeding all down her arms and her lip's split open and I think she has a cut on her head – she uhh... well, she didn't get home and we got worried and went out to look for her – we found her wandering on the highway."
"Did she say anything?"
Sam shrugged, glancing over his shoulder to where she sat, knees drawn up to her chest, hugging them to her – contained, except for the hand Dean held, resting between the edges of their seats. It dwarfed hers, made it look small, like a child's. "No – nothing – I think she's in shock."
"Alright – well we're gonna Amtrak her, and a Doctor will be with her shortly," Loretta replied, scribbling some more on the admittance form, "just through those doors there," she pointed with the pen.
"Thank – you," Sam told her, turning around.
Sasha sat numbly on the edge of the gurney, her forearms bandaged with gauze, The Doctor pressing an ice-pack to her left cheek-bone. "Just hold it like that Sasha; can you do that for me?"
She nodded, taking the ice-pack. The Doctor was in his sixties, the hair at his temples going grey. Tall and broad, Dr. Tersher was an athletic man gone to seed, his bulk collecting around his belt.
The boys watched him as he busied himself cleaning her cuts, and his eyes bore a look of concern. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm just going to pick up her x-rays."
They nodded her assent, watching him saunter down the corridor. The glaring light cast odd shadows on the linoleum. Sam tapped Dean lightly on the shoulder, motioning for them to step back to the corner near a sterile looking medical cart. "You think this is our thing?" he whispered, sneaking a glance at Sasha's back.
"Did you see her arms? Those freaky looking tattoos?" Dean questioned, peeking over his shoulder. "I think I've seen some of those symbols before – and I don't think she gave those tats to herself."
Sam nodded. "Someone did that to her."
"Well she sure as hell didn't do it to herself."
Sam nodded again, moving to Sasha. "Can you tell us what happened?"
She readjusted the pack, "I don't even know really…I was on the computer, and then I heard someone open the door, and I thought it was Nina – my roommate. But then this guy – he just barged in and grabbed me."
She shifted slightly as Sam came around the and sat down beside her, Dean hovering nearby.
"I must have hit my head or something. The next thing I know I was in this chair and my hands were tied, and this guy made me take these pills and it all gets kinda fuzzy from there – I remember being dragged into this big white room with this big table covered in black, and there were all these guys in hoods – it was so dark," Sasha's voice grew strained and quiet, breaking as she continued, "and uh, there were candles everywhere and they were singing something – chanting. And I just remember feeling really heavy and hot and my arms stung. And then there was this guy behind the table and he grabbed me and um – he uh, he threw – threw me onto it…"
She trailed off, biting her lip so hard the skin around it turned white. A tiny sob escaped. "And umm – he climbed – well, he climbed on top and started pushing my dress up."
Sam reached over and to her free hand, patting it gently, glancing at Dean – the muscle in his jaw twitched, like he was clenching his teeth hard. A violent shudder tore through her, and tears rolled down her face as she hiccoughed, wiping at them with her hand, "I tried to push him off, and I was screaming, but someone grabbed my hands and I – I wasn't strong enough."
She put her head down, pressing her palms to her eyes hard, the ice pack forgotten beside her. Sam put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"He wasn't – he hadn't – umm… just pushed my dress up, they were chanting – and I must have started hallucinating, because it was like this big dark cloud kinda twisted all around him, and some other guy brought out this bowl and knife, and I got really scared, and I started to really freak out – I must have grabbed it."
She heaved in a breath, sobbing. "And I, umm… I must have used it. I think I cut people. I don't know – I can't even think how I got out or where I was until you guys came." She finished, wiping her nose with a broad swipe of her hand.
"I'm so sorry," Sam breathed, squeezing her shoulder.
"Aww, Kid," Dean murmured, bending slightly as he picked up the ice-pack. "here," he put the cold compress to her cheek bone, harder than he expected, because she winced, her eyes squeezing shut painfully. "oops." He muttered, stepping back as soon as she took it from him.
"Now you keep that on there, okay? Or else your face is gonna swell up like a chipmunk."
Sam sighed in exasperation, shaking his head at Dean. Taking the ice pack from Sasha's trembling hands, he held it lightly against her bruise.
"What?" Dean questioned, annoyed, "and your Nurse Rosetta?"
Sasha managed a brief half-smile. Flicking her eyes up to glance at Dean, she mumbled, "Alice Cooper,"
Dean chuckled lightly. "I like this kid."
Sam grinned. There was a movement in his peripheral vision. It was the doctor.
"he's back – lets see what he says."
Dr. Tersher motioned the boys over to the x-ray panel. "It looks like a mild sprain."
Clearing his throat, he hazarded a glance toward the girl, "If I may ask – what happened here tonight?"
Sam coughed. The air hung heavily between the boys and the Doctor. Dean sighed. "Her ex-boyfriend. He's crazy. We should have taken better care of her." He let his eyes fall, staring at his shoes. "She wasn't home when she said she'd be. I mean – I knew he was bad news, but I never thought–"
Sam caught on, shaking his head. "The guy was always dangerous."
The doctor nodded, removing the x-rays. "And what's your relation to her?"
"Brothers," Dean said,
"Friends," Sam replied at the same time. They looked quickly at each other, "Friends – but we're like her brothers."
"Practically grew up with her," Dean added, throwing in a smile for good measure.
Dr. Tersher's gaze shifted from the two of them. "She should be fully coherent by the morning, after a good night's sleep. I suggest someone keep an eye on her tonight, and I'd minimum exertion."
"Yes sir," Dean returned, nodding deferentially.
He nodded back in awknowledgment, and turned on his heel without so much as a goodbye.
"A dark shape?" Sam whispered lowly. "Possession maybe?"
"Could be a lot of things Sammy."
"What are we gonna do about her?" He asked as they reached her.
Dean looked over his shoulder for the Doctor. He was no where in sight. "Sasha? Is there some place safe we can take you? A friend's?"
She shook her head. "I don't know anyone outside of Residence. And someone gave that guy the door code – and I just – I uh, I just don't feel safe there. What if they're waiting for me?"
Dean looked at Sam, looked at him like he couldn't do anything else. Sam sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess your coming with us."