A/N -The newest installment of Beginning. Enjoy.-ljae
Something was wrong. Hands grabbed him in the dark. He tried to get upand fight back through pain laced limbs but felt someone strike him. A light turned on. Sam couldn't move at all anymore. Sam forced his eyes open and balled his fists. A figure blocked the light and simultaneously he felt a pinprick on his arm. Sam was dimly aware of something that covered his mouth and nose.
The figure wavered in his focus now. The person moved out of the light and Sam was nearly blinded. He turned his head to one side to avoid the glare. He observed the side of the room without taking anything in. The panicked feeling in his gut told him that something was very wrong. He gasped as his head was moved back so he was staring into the light. Sam blinked lazily, desperately attempting to stay awake.
He didn't know how he knew, but Sam knew that it was important he stayed awake, he knew he was supposed to see something. He didn't have any room in his mind for anything else. With whatever vestiges of strength he had remaining Sam forced his head to the side again. Through confused and blurred eyes Sam caught a brief glimpse; a door inside a door and a glowing red sign. A rough hand grasped his jaw and forced his head away. He began to feel a mild burning in his forearm and he soon found he could no longer keep his eyes open. Sam's clenched fists relaxed as he slipped into oblivion.
He awoke suddenly, extremely thirsty and with a massive headache. He kept trying to remember what had happened but couldn't remember farther than loading his brother into the back of the car. It was clear that something had gone terribly wrong. He sat up and groaned involuntarily. God his head. He touched it tentatively and his hand came away tacky with blood. He gently probed the wound, discovering a new addition of several neat stitches.
He blinked in confusion. Sam glanced about himself, trying to get his bearings. This room was no motel room, nor was it a hospital room. A single light bulb illuminated the enclosed space. Sam's first thought was that he was dreaming, or that this was a vision. Sam wished it were that simple, but past experience told him that this was genuine. No dream, vision or hallucination had ever been this vivid. The walls were painted an off white color and the cell-like room was devoid of all furnishing or embellishments save a door without a handle and a bucket of water.
Sam made for it immediately upon discovery. It was bolted to the floor so he made a makeshift cup with his hands and gulped it greedily. Sam sat back on his haunches as he caught his wavering reflection in the water, he looked like death warmed over. Turning away from his battered image, Sam focused his attention on the only exit to the room. Without a doubt it would be locked. He pushed against it experimentally and any feeble hopes he had were squashed. What the hell was going on? Sam knocked on the door, testing its strength.
Whatever it was, it was reinforced. He stepped back a moment, overcome with a feeling of intense helplessness. Sam took a deep breath. The walls were closing in on him. Sam felt the panic rising in his throat like too many shots of tequila. He had no way of getting out of here. Were Dean and Dad in other rooms like his own? He had to get out of here. Sam had to get to his family. The room was small, but Sam backed to wall furthest from the door and charged, dropping his shoulder at the appropriate moment. He slammed into the door at the best speed he could manage, crying out in pain upon impact. It didn't budge. Stars of pain danced in Sam's vision and he saw black creeping into the edges. Maybe not the best idea. Tears of pain and frustration began to gather in eyes and Sam smashed his fists into the door again and again. "Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Sam continued his assault on the door as his voice bounced back into his face.
Dean relaxed onto the pillow after the tubes were extricated from his throat and nose. He mentally jotted the recent experience as one he didn't want to repeat. The doctor stood at the end of the bed and flipped through his chart, making various marks on the paper. Dean tested his voice but when he tried to speak, to ask if his family was alright all that he heard was a louder version of his regular breathing. The doctor's eyes flicked upwards and met his. " You will be unable to speak for some time. Please don't attempt to talk until for at least a few hours."
Again Dean tried to speak, and this time he managed a faint rasping. Irritated, the male doctor looked at him again. "Believe me, I would love for you to answer many questions, including how you received your particular chest …. Lacerations, in a car accident. But this isn't something that can be rushed. You are also on a heavy painkiller and I want to ask you questions when you are coherent.". Dean's eyes narrowed in a frustrated glare. God this guy was thick. A nurse tapped Dean on the shoulder and Dean turned his eyes to her, "If you can hold a pen, do you want to try to write what you want to say?", she offered sympathetically.
Dean managed a small smile through cracked lips to indicate his assent. He feltwarm plastictouch his fingers and grasped it. Even this small movement sent pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder. Dean ignored his discomfort, his mind again brimming with desperate questions about his brother and father. Dean felt something flat and hard pressing down onto the bed next to him and although he couldn't really move his head far enough to see what it was, he assumed it was a something he could write on.
He soon discovered he had pathetic control of his digits and Dean hoped to God that the one word he had scrawled was legible. The doctor tilted his head to the side and squinted "Family?". Dean's eyes locked onto his. "I wasn't on when you were brought into the ER, I can have Candice inquire at the front desk for you." The red-haired nurse glanced downwards meditatively and then back at the doctor, " That's not necessary doctor, I was on that morning, the-". She was cut off as someone knocked on the door.
Dean chewed the inside of his cheek in frustration as the someone entered without waiting for an answer to the knock. The man was middle-aged and neatly dressed in a somewhat conservative way. Dean knew without him speaking that he was a cop. The sinking feeling had returned to his gut. "Afternoon, Doctor. Detective Nolan.If you are just about finished, I would love to have a chat with the lucky survivor." The detective flashed his badge.
The doctor stood, "Well, he has just had tubing removed and will be incapable of speaking for some time" The cop flashed a practiced smile, one that Dean recognized as similar to one of his own. "I'm sure that we will find some way of communicating." The doctor glanced at his watch and nodded, "Alright," He turned to Dean, "If you required any assistance, please press the call button and Candice will help you out." Dean could have ground his teeth in annoyance but didn't want to show the cop that he was nervous. He wished he knew what story Sam or his dad had fed the hospital, or whether or not they had told any story at all.
The detective seemed utterly comfortable in Dean's room. He glanced at the now empty bed on the other side of the room and flipped through Dean's chart before pulling a chair close to his bedside. The detective moved the call button out of Dean's reach. Dean badly wanted to press it and ask the nurse for more painkillers to treat the sudden pain in his ass. The cop still held onto the chart and continued to look through it.
After a moment, "You know Dean, I have so many questions for you that I can barely decide where to start." Dean started at the use of his real name. "Yes I'm assuming that is your name, although they have you down as John Doe." He paused, and Dean was grateful that he was unable to speak. "I found a lot of interesting things in that car, Dean… some of which could put you in prison for- say, what is this?" Dean followed his line of sight and found the detective looking at his note. "Family eh? They didn't tell you what happened to them?" Dean felt like he was falling.
A/N -Love it? Hate it? Need more? I'm not that sensitive, tell me what you think.-ljae
