waves Hi ! First of all can I offer everyone a huge apology over the crappy state of my responses to reviews. I couldn't answer any (and still can't at the moment) because apparently I wasn't the author of this story…go figure eh..? So I'm hoping that this goes a lot better and a lot smoother. I know a lot of people had problems logging onto the page; hopefully the site is back to normal now.
Anyway enough with the moaning. As always, thank you to those who submitted a review, I have just managed to read them, and as always they inspire me to keep on going. Welcome to the new readers and I hope they continue to stick around.
Ok, a lot of people are asking about the demon…humm….I haven't forgotten about him guys; there is always time for him to show up- including the next story. Oh and as for the doctors….
Anyway, enough chit-chat, Forsaken is almost at an end now, setting the scene for the new story that will follow 'Lying in Wait'.
On with the 'Mission'….
Chapter Ten- Mission
Sam Winchester was a smart boy.
After all he'd been smart enough to get himself into Stanford University, off his own back and earn himself a scholarship into one of the top rated universities in America.
So Sam was smart; the brains of the Winchester household. Well it what's he used to tease Dean with.
Sam was book smart, while Dean was known as street smart. It was just one of those things that everyone who had ever meet either boy, knew.
Same way everyone knew the grass was green and the sky was blue.
They were just plain old boring facts.
So was the fact that Sam Winchester was smart.
Just another boring fact.
Yet Sam Winchester was just a breath away from screaming down the entire hospital.
The youngest Winchester had lost count at the amount of times he had spent riding the elevator up and down, like it was some demented fair ground ride. It was slowly beginning to churn Sam's stomach, or maybe it was the lack of food, or perhaps the medication that been sifting through his veins that were making the twenty-three year old feel like he'd just celebrated his eightieth birthday and was recovering from a replacement hip operation.
How friggin hard was it to find the morgue..?
As Sam was beginning to discover; very hard indeed.
Rubbing his hazel eyes sleepily the dark haired youngster trotted out the elevator and stood gazing around the ground floor of the hospital. Sam was gaining some curious looks and he knew why. As much as he had tried to alter his appearance by changing out the hospital gown that revealed way too much of Sam's modesty, he still looked like a patient, and worse, he still felt like one.
That was one of the main things that confused Sam. Not like the entire ordeal of Dean lying to him over their father wasn't confusing enough, the younger brother was now trying to figure out how he'd managed to lose almost a week and a half of his life somewhere and have no memory whatsoever of it.
That was just plain weird in Sam's opinion.
He should remember something, anything. Where had he been for the last eleven days..?
Sam stared once again at the list of wards pinned to the wall near the elevator, his eyes scanning slowly in case he had missed the location the other eighteen times he'd examined the same map on different floors.
...The basement, the morgue has got to be in the basement...Sam said in a sarcastic tone to himself...For crying out loud Sam, wake up !...
That was the other thing that was bothering Sam. The tiredness. The younger Winchester couldn't ever think of a time a previous to this where he had ever felt so exhausted and tired in his whole life. He felt lifeless, drained. Like he was running on auto pilot and for Sam, having no actual control over his own body left the youngster nervous and uneasy. Sam knew about the crash, knew he was in hospital because of the crash, and knew Dean was there because of the whole damn situation. Sam knew that when he'd woken up he'd seen Dean staring down at him, and while he couldn't bet his life on it, Sam was sure Dean had been crying.
...Maybe my eyes were playing games on me, Dean doesn't cry. Especially over me...Sam thought as he shuffled down the corridor, in search of stairs to take him down to the floor below.
Dean had looked like hell, that, Sam did remember. His big brother, his warrior, his hero looked beat to hell. Sam swallowed as he pushed himself to continue looking around the hospital. He remembered seeing that looked in Dean's eyes. It was a look Sam never remembered seeing previously, but it was a universal look. It was a look of relief.
Or maybe it was a look of fear, or one of sheer happiness. Honestly, it was sometimes hard to tell with Dean, most emotions uttered by the elder man usually came with a wise ass remark or some sarcastic comment.
...That damn mask of his...Sam thought miserably as rubbed his aching head unconsciously as he shuffled down one of the many corridors.
...Only I would be the one born with a brother, where you never knew what he was thinking or feeling...Sam thought as finally paused at a different set of elevators that had been set back away from visitors and patients.
...Then again, what patient wants to find the morgue...? Sam thought as he glanced around hurriedly to make sure no one was studying his movements. Once the doors opened to the wide elevator, the younger Winchester slipped in unnoticed.
The plan was simple, go down hunt through what ever information he could find and see whether or not John Winchester had been booked in somewhere along the line. Of course, Sam was well aware that his father had probably used an aliases, and truth was, that was the part that was worrying Sam the most.
If there was no John Winchester on the list, that would mean that Sam would have to go searching in the fridges.
Sam shuddered unwillingly at that thought.
The younger Winchester didn't have a problem looking at bodies, hell in their line of work, digging up bodies; salting and burning them were all in a days work. Of course, that was a different situation, and those situations always called for different measures. After all most the bodies they got to know, were from owners whose spirits were doing the dirty on whoever got on their nerves.
Those bodies were already dead, buried. They'd just come back spirit wise to drive people mad.
The ones Sam was going to have to examine would have only just died. Still fresh, still free from possession by evil, still, innocent even.
That's what worried Sam.
Digging around in fridges in search of his father… who he knew in his heart was dead.
The thought of finding his father on a slab in the morgue with that disgusting tag on his toe with his false identity on it made his stomach churn).
Even in death the Winchesters couldn't be normal.
Sam shuddered again as the elevator doors opened in the dark, damp smelling basement.
It was cold down in the basement, and while Sam expected no less, he was still taken back by how cold be felt.
"Suck it up Sam; you bought this on yourself..." Sam muttered out loud to himself as he stuttered down the corridor, growing increasingly aware at how wobbly his legs were feeling and how drained he was becoming.
But he had to keep going.
He had to find John Winchester. He had too much to tell him, too much to ask him. Sam needed to know whether his father hated him, he needed to know whether what the demon said was true. Sam needed to know if their father had learnt anything from the demon. Most importantly, Sam needed to know that the demon was wrong about Dean.
"Dean is the glue to this family…" Sam muttered as he walked slowly down the dark halls, "I'll be damned if this demon screws up my whole family because of me..."
Stubbornly, Sam Winchester ignored the panic that was slowly beginning to rise in his chest. He knew he was in the right place, the cold chill alone that shot like a bullet down his spine was enough of an announcement to him.
Yet he ignored it in search of the truth.
...If Dean won't tell me about dad, I'll just have to find out myself... Sam thought, as he slowed his pace to a stand still when he spotted a door inside the wall.
Ignoring the instinct to turn and run, and ignoring the sudden urge of wanting a shot gun loaded with rock salt; Sam continued with his mission.
He ignored everything bad about the entire situation.
Including the pain that was slowly leaking into his head...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Dean Winchester flew down the corridor, the rage he had pent up inside was already dangerously close to exploding; all he needed was an outlet.
And there was Dean's outlet, standing in the corridor looking at the elder Winchester boy with a severely disapproving look on his face.
Dean was going to enjoy knocking that look clean off his face.
He'd never been a fan of this doctor.
In one tiger like move, Dean grabbed Dr. Wallis, his ex-doctor and slammed him loudly and heavily against the wall.
"You better tell me, right now what you've done with Sam..." Dean growled, "And you better believe this, when I was born, my folks installed a bull shitting detector in my head, so if I even smell any crap coming out of your mouth, you're going to need a food tube inserted into that cesspit stomach of yours..."
"Get your hands off me..." Dr. Wallis snapped angrily, "Get your hands off me right now, before I have security remove you from this hospital..."
Bitterly Dean dropped the doctor nosily onto the floor. However, the elder Winchester, clearly livid and fighting desperately not to knock the doctor into the realms of unconsciousness, stood staring menacingly over the doctor.
"If you have laid one finger on my brother..." Dean hissed, "If there is one strand of hair out of place on that kids head..."
"You'll what..?" Dr. Wallis demanded as he picked himself up off the floor. Dr. Kessin grabbed a frazzled Dean and gently pulled him back a step.
"Dean, we need to find Sam..." Dr. Kessin explained, "I know you're worried about your brother, but Dean we're not the enemy, we're not going to hurt Sam. We just want to help him..."
"Help him..?" Dean shouted, "You want to take him off to run tests on him, he'll be scared out his mind, how is that helping him..? The only thing you're interested in helping is furthering your medical careers…"
"Dean, you need to understand, what took place yesterday, with your brother..." Dr. Kessin beamed clearly unable to keep the excitement out of his voice, "It defies medical history..."
"You just don't know Sam..." Dean said with a half baked smile, "He's always doing crazy things..." Dean explained, desperate for the two doctors to leave his family alone.
"So Samuel makes it a habit to come back from the dead...?" Dr. Wallis pointedly asked. "Dean, we're not in the mood for games, so either you tell us where you've hidden Sam, or I'll have security throw you out of here..."
"Dr. Wallis, there is no need for that; I am more than sure that young Dean here is well aware of the how seriously ill his brother is..." Dr. David Kessin said in a sympathetic tone as he studied Dean's confused face.
"Sam's going to be fine, you said so yourself yesterday..." Dean whispered in a small voice, "You said things will be a little shaky for us, but we'll get through it, remember that's what you told me..!"
"Yes, but Dean, Sam needs medical help..." Dr. Kessin explained gently putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, "The boys been in a coma for over a week, his muscles and body are extremely tired and stiff. He's also had major surgery to remove a blood clot that needs to be monitored closely to make sure he doesn't suffer a relapse or a haemorrhage…"
Dean stood staring at the two doctors. His eyes however only spoke to the kind doctor that had worked feverishly to save his younger brother's life yesterday.
"What will happen to Sammy..?" Dean whispered his eyes only on Dr. Kessin.
"It depends Dean; it all depends on how long it takes for us to find him..." Dr. Kessin admitted, "So if you know where your brother is, I suggest you tell us right now.."
Dean swallowed quietly his eyes dropping to the floor,
"I don't have a clue where he is, I left him in the room going to take a nap. I told him to stay here, that stupid boy promised me that he would stay here and he wouldn't leave..."
"Looks like Sammy had his own ideas huh..?" Dr. Kessin said patting Dean's shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry then Dean, if Sam really has taken off by himself, he won't have got far. Tiredness will kick in with him and we'll probably find him asleep in a different ward somewhere..!"
"I'll get a search out for him..." Dr. Wallis muttered tightly, not even looking at Dean as he brushed past him. "I want Sam Turner found. Now..."
Dean watched as the horrible doctor walked over to the nurses' station and was rapidly talking into the phone.
Dean believed Dr. Kessin.
Dr. Kessin only wanted to help Sam, make sure he was going to be ok. Give Sam the medical attention he needed like any good doctor would.
Dr. Wallis was a different prospect completely, he wanted Sam found so his prize wonder patient could make the latest issues of readers digest. Dr. Wallis wanted to be famous in the world of medicine, and Sam was his route to fame.
Dean found his feet moving before his brain had even gone into gear.
He had to find Sam before the hospital staff did...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Sam Winchester looked around the cold, uninviting room he stood in. So far he hadn't bumped into any personnel or security, Sam wasn't sure how long that luck would hold out, so he quickly found himself urgently wanting to get his mission over with.
There was something not so inviting in looking on the other side of the metal doors that lined the wall, in a three up six along motion. The young hunter had no need to touch the doors, he knew they were cold.
They were fridges.
Slowly, Sam scanned the doors and swallowed when he realised that the only thing on the doors were small slits of paper which held nothing but initials. Glancing at the door closest to him, the hunter stared at the initials, F.W.
Could that be John Winchester...?
Sam sighed, so this wasn't going to be as straightforward as he hoped it would be. He was going to have to start looking.
Slowly, he placed his shaky hand on the handle and with every bit of strength he had, pushed down the on the heavy handle, which groaned. Once open, he tiredly pushed the door against the wall, held his breath and his nerves and wheeled out the first body.
Trembling, Sam forced himself to look at the face.
It wasn't John Winchester.
Sighing in relief he hurriedly shoved wheeled the body back and promptly closed the door nosily behind him. He finally let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding.
Shivering, Sam quickly did a calculation to all the metal doors in the room with him.
There were fifty four bodies in the room with him.
Swallowing, Sam suddenly wished that Dean was in there with him. He knew his brother, bold as brass. He wouldn't give a damn about what he had to do, a job was a job. Sam felt his head grow heavy. He longed for Dean's strength and resilience at the jobs they had to do.
But he was a Winchester too, and if Dean could do this job without wanting to pass out, then Sam would do it too.
Truth was though, Sam wasn't sure if he could do it. Everything was hurting, none more so than his head. The pain was unbelievable and he could feel his eyes growing heavy. Although Sam was usual a strong person, mentally and physically he was beginning to cave, and to Sam, it was a worrying feeling.
The urge of wanting to sleep was simply too over powering.
...Search all these fridges and then you can sleep...Sam promised himself...Remember why you're doing this...
Sam sucked in a breath and methodically headed for another cabinet.
He had to keep going, not only for his own peace of mind, but for Dean's. If Dean was lying to protect him from pain, then Sam was going to free Dean from the burden of having to carry the secret; after he'd kicked his ass in for lying to him first of course.
Ignoring the chewing sensation that hammered in his brain, screaming and demanding for him to lie down and go to sleep, to give up and surrender to the world of unconsciousness; Sam kept going.
He was a Winchester, and Winchester's never ever gave up.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Dean Winchester stood numbly by the elevators. It was time to stop thinking like Dean and start thinking like Sammy. The last half an hour spent hurrying from floor to floor, was having a bigger impact on him than the elder hunter would care to admit. He was absolutely exhausted.
Of course, Dean Winchester wouldn't tell anyone, not even Dr. Kessin who could see Dean was growing tired. The idea of a doctor or whoever telling him he couldn't do something was like waving the preverbal red rag in front of a bull. Dean was going to find Sammy, and then worry about the consequences of his actions later.
So for now, Dean was ignoring and more importantly avoiding everyone.
Especially Dr. Kessin.
...Where would Sam go in a friggin freaking hospital for crying out loud?... Dean thought as he scanned the row of wards on the list.
...Man I hate these God forsaken places...Dean thought to himself, anger beginning to steam through... I'm so gonna kick his ass for running off like this, I'll kick his friggin skinny ass...
Dean sighed as he considered his last thought. Why had Sam run off..? Wasn't it obvious, the kid was upset over their father.
Who could blame him, Dean was upset himself.
"Son of a bitch..." Dean muttered to himself as he hammered on the call button waiting for the elevator to come down.
He knew exactly where his little brother had gone.
Sammy had to gone to find the truth.
He'd gone to the morgue...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
He wasn't there.
It had taken Sam almost an hour, but he'd done it.
John Winchester wasn't among the dead.
Exhausted, Sam staggered out through the entrance and nosily shut the door. There was no need to be quiet anymore; truth was Sam wanted to be found.
He had a feeling he needed to be found.
Sam Winchester knew the staircase was just around the turn, yet suddenly that short walk looked like a marathon to him. His legs were like jelly, quivering under him like a new born foal. He felt useless and more worryingly for Sam, he felt scared.
He felt powerless to stop himself from falling to his knees and the younger Winchester soon realised he couldn't walk anymore. Deciding this was as good as anywhere to stop,
Sam dragged himself to the wall and lent with his back against it, dragging his tired legs up against his chest and rested his head on them.
The pain in his head had been a bitch the minute he'd left the bed. He'd ignored the pain the whole way through his mission, but now the pain demanded his full attention and it dually received it.
His eyes growing heavy and the strangest sensation running through his cloudy head, Sam allowed his eyes to close.
A little nap would be ok.
As he felt his eyes close, one thought did invade Sam's mind.
Sam knew Dean. Dean was lying about something. Now if he wasn't lying about the death of their father; then what was his elder brother lying about...?
Sam wasn't sure, but he promised himself that once he woke up, he'd be sure to ask Dean...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Dean Winchester tore down the stairs into the basement.
"Sam..!" Dean yelled loudly, "Sammy, you down here...?"
On hearing no answer, Dean stared down the corridor. Ok, if his annoying little brother wasn't down here, then Dean really was screwed. Other than the morgue, he had no idea where Sam would wonder off to.
Hurrying down the corridor, his hunter skills coming to the fore front of his brain as his eyes automatically scanned the floors and walls for signs of recent activity.
It didn't take the elder brother long to spot a hunched form huddled against the wall towards the end of the next corridor.
"Sam..!" Dean yelled, as he hurried towards his brother, his pace quickening when he spotted no response in his direction, not even a head turn.
" Please be ok..." Dean whispered to himself as he dropped to his knees in front of Sam.
All Dean saw was a mop of brown hair.
Gently Dean reached under the hair and with both hands cupped Sam's face and raised it up so he could see into his baby brother's face. The movement stirred the younger man.
" Hey..." Sam said in tone Dean had to strain his ears to hear.
" Didn't I ask you...-" Dean started to vent, when Sam's quiet voice cut his own.
" You were right..." Sam whispered, his head feeling heavy in Dean's hands which still continued to uphold his head. They were warm and comforting and Sam couldn't help but feel relaxed and safe.
"Of course I was right; I'm your big brother that automatically makes me right..." Dean teased as he gently stroked the hair off Sam's forehead, "You need a hair cut.."
"He's not dead..." Sam whispered, his eyes quickly closing again, "Dad's not dead..."
Dean groaned outwardly unable to hide his disgust at what Sam had come down here to look for.
"He's not dead Deanie..." Sam whispered, as he allowed his eyes to close.
"Oh Sammy, why didn't you just listen to me...?" Dean demanded in an uptight voice.
"I'm tired..." Sam whispered, his eyes closed as he continued the conversation with Dean, "My head hurts..."
Dean swallowed nervously.
This was his chance, nobody knew where they were.
Sam was in his arms and Dean Winchester was sure he could smuggle them both out without being busted by anyone.
His little brother couldn't be taken away by the hospital staff.
They couldn't run tests, not on this miracle patient.
Dean studied Sam's face as he gently played with his brother's dark mane, trying to rouse him. Dean winced when his fingers brushed the padding at side of Sam's head. Dean shuddered when he saw Sam's body automatically flinch at the pain.
Dean swallowed as he looked at the limp, weak form that lay in his arms.
Sam needed medical attention. He needed help. Even Dean could see he was seriously ill.
But was it enough..? Was Sam ill enough to justify staying here in this hospital?
Dean sucked in his breath knowing he was going to have to make this decision without his little brother.
Either stay at the hospital and allow Sam to receive the medical care that he badly needed and risk having the hospital staff and Dr. Wallis run tests on Sam to see how his little brother had come back from dead.
Or grab Sam, sneak away and be prepared to take care of Sam himself and risk the consequences of all the things Dr. Kessin had earlier told Dean about.
He swallowed at the choices.
Both carried heavy consequences.
Yet the pathway for the Winchesters lay at the moment with one brother alone.
Dean.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
It's a pretty straight forward question; if you were Dean, what would you do..? Thanks for reading and as always I would love to hear what you guys think so if you could, please leave a review.