Thanks again everyone for your wonderful reviews, can't help but say they give me a little tingle every time I read them. I especially love the reviews where you guys actually voice what you love/hate about where the plots are going. Also a huge thanks to those who answered my little question about what Dean should do; well you're about to find out Dean's decision :o)
Ok this is the penultimate chapter, so 'Lying in Wait' will be following pretty soon and I sincerely hope that you guys will stick around to find out what happens with the boys and John.
Thanks for reading as always and now on with 'This Decision'….
Chapter Eleven- This Decision
Dean sunk onto the bed with a smile on his face. It couldn't be helped; the look on Sam's highly drugged face was a picture that brought an instant smile to Dean's face. Sam was incredibly high on painkillers that were being fed back into his body on the newly inserted drip line.
"You just get some rest..." Dean said trying to suppress a chuckle as Sam's goofy face turned in his direction.
"That's right, plenty of rest and no more out of ward excursions for you young man…" Dr. Kessin said with a grin. "The only way you are going to get better is with lots and lots of rest..."
Sam nodded slightly over exaggerated and then turned to Dean who was seated at the end of his bed and sighed loudly. Dean gave him a little wave.
"Hi..." Dean said trying not to laugh at his brother, but it was becoming more difficult by the second.
"Deanie..." Sam sang loudly, "Look at the baggie that's hooked to the tubbie..."
"Baggie, hooked to tubbie huh...?" Dean said moving closer to Sam on the bed, "Man you're never gonna believe this when I tell you this later..."
"Tubbie going into armie..." Sam said with a roll of his head as his glazed, heavily drugged hazel eyes studied his brothers. "Deanie, do you want a tubie, or a berry...?" Sam mumbled.
"A berry..?" Dean asked as he caught the smile on Dr. Kessin's face. "Dude I don't do fruits..."
"Good for growing boys..." Sam sang out loudly, which caused both adults in the room to laugh.
Dr. Kessin set Sam's notes back down at the foot of the bed, and turned to Dean.
"Could I have a word with you..?"
"Sure…" Dean said with a nod, as he promptly turned back to Sam, who was fighting to keep his now droopy eyes awake. "Last time I left you alone in this room, you went walkabouts. Try and actually stay this time..."
"Walkabouts..? We got a dog..?" Sam asked, his face a total look of deadpan expression. "Where is it, I want to play with it...!"
Dean turned and sent the doctor a desperate look.
"He isn't going to stay like that is he Doc..?" Dean asked in more hopeful tone than worried, "Because as funny as it is, this could get old, real quick..."
Dr. Kessin chuckled again and opened the door letting Dean leave in front of him. The doctor paused on closing the door to hear Sam break out in song with 'One man and his Dog'.
Dean grinned and looked at the doctor.
"Isn't there like a shot you can give him to, well, bring him down off loopy cloud nine..?" Dean asked.
"Dean it's just temporary, by the time we're finished talking, Sam will be fast asleep..." Dr. David Kessin reassured.
"That's good to know, because while I love the little man, I might have to suffocate him if he kept singing that song all night.."
"There is something about 'One man and his Dog' that sounds like a cat scratching a black board..." Dr. Kessin agreed, which made Dean nod furiously at.
"Have a seat Dean..." Dr. Kessin said, as he pointed to a row of seats not too far away from Sam's room. Dean purposely sat in the seat that faced Sam's door directly.
Dean also couldn't help but notice that Dr. Kessin's mood had changed.
"Is something wrong..?" Dean asked trying to erase the worry in his voice that had quickly begun floating around the pit of his stomach.
"No, nothing per say..." Dr. Kessin reassured as he patted Dean's shoulder.
"Sam's fine...?" Dean asked again, he wanted it spelled out to him in black and white, no technical jargon that he could misinterpret.
"He will be Dean, with time he will be..." Dr. Kessin said.
Dean studied the doctor's face; his features warm his eyes trusting. The doctor genuinely did care about what happened to both Sam and himself; that much Dean could tell.
"There's a but coming isn't there..?" Dean said in a small voice.
" Dr. Wallis wants to start running tests straight away..." Dr. Kessin explained. "Now Sam's my patient, and tests can't be run without my say so..."
Dean's eyes dropped to the floor. He knew what the next question would be.
"Dean, you tell me why I shouldn't run the tests and I won't run them..." Dr. Kessin said in a matter of fact tone.
"Sam's just a normal, average boring human being..." Dean lied, "I don't understand why everyone is so desperate to run tests on my brother..."
"Sam died, Dean..." Dr. Kessin explained, "He was dead for over forty minutes. Yet he's inside that room singing 'One man and his dog'..." Dr. Kessin said pointing to Sam's closed door. "You don't find that strange at all..."
"It was a miracle..." Dean said flatly.
"Miracles don't happen in science, science happens in science..." Dr. Kessin explained, "And I am a man of science..."
Dean stayed silent, not knowing what to say. It was a Kodak moment. It was rare that Dean Winchester was ever lost for words.
"Who are you...?" Dr. Kessin finally asked. "Who are you people..?"
Dean's eyes suddenly raised up, unable to wash the look of surprise off his face.
"What you think I'm an alien or something..?" Dean muttered, "Now that's hardly science based now is it doctor...?"
"I'm trying to help you Dean..." Dr. Kessin said with a sigh, as he noticed that Dean was stubbornly keeping quiet. "Well, answer me this, why was Sam downstairs in the morgue..?"
"Sam's a forensics student..." Dean lied, "He has a paper due, must have thought he could sneak down and take a look around..."
"Looking for a homicide body was he..?" Dr. Kessin asked folding his arms across his chest, clearly not believing a word Dean was telling him.
"Exactly, you know what kids are like these days..." Dean said with a sniff, "Always taking up strange careers.."
"I called the police today Dean..." Dr. Kessin explained, " The crash you and your brother were involved in.."
"Why did you call the police..?" Dean suddenly asked as he could feel that sinking feeling being replaced by the feeling of the titanic.
"The semi that hit you..." Dr. Kessin said ignoring Dean's question, " Why wasn't the other driver hurt. In fact where did the other driver go..?"
"Well, don't ask me, I was too busy being unconscious..." Dean muttered as he jumped to his feet. "When are you starting the tests..?"
"Tomorrow morning..." Dr. Kessin said in a plain tone, "Dean I'm trying to help you here, but I need you to level with me..."
"I don't need your help..." Dean said angrily, "If you really want to help us, then call these tests off and let Sam recover like a normal patient..."
"But Sam isn't normal, is he..?" Dr. Kessin pushed, "And neither are you..."
"And by whose example of normal are we supposed to be following here..?" Dean spat as he turned back towards his brother's door.
"I had a look at your file Dean..." Dr. Kessin said causing the elder hunter to pause, "That slash you have across the heart, the blood loss you suffered; that wasn't from the crash..."
"You have a very active imagination Dr. Kessin..." Dean said, never turning to look at the doctor. "Thanks for you everything you've done for Sam..."
"He won't get better..." Dr. Kessin said his voice cutting into Dean as his hand rested against the door handle. "Sam, he'll never get better..."
"Of course he will..." Dean said turning angrily and looking at the doctor, "You said so yourself, just a little time off and rest and he'll be back to his annoying little self..."
"He's suffered a massive head trauma Dean, you take him out this hospital before these tests and you'll be signing your brother's death sentence..." Dr. Kessin said in a cold tone. "You can not take care of your brother..."
"You're wrong; I can take care of him..." Dean whispered his voice tight and strung with emotion.
"Where's your father Dean...?" Dr. Kessin demanded, "Considering he came in here with you, he's pretty much left you all alone to carry this secret and protect your brother and yourself..." Dr. Kessin pointed out abruptly, "Will you be willing to carry the consequences as well...?"
Dean stood rigid as he thought about his father. Now wasn't the time. Now wasn't the time to smash this doctor's face in or smash the entire the corridor up. Now certainly wasn't the time to crawl under the orange plastic chairs and cry himself to sleep. Dean couldn't allow his brain to think. He was afraid of what he might do or say if he was given the opportunity to think about what he was really feeling.
"Good bye Dr. Kessin... Dean whispered as he silently opened the door to Sam's hospital room and silently closed the door back.
Dr. David Kessin watched as he door to Sam Turner's room closed.
These were special people, the doctor wasn't sure how or why, but that much he knew.
He was also sure that this would be the last time he ever saw these special young men ever again.
"Good luck to you boys..." Dr. Kessin muttered as he turned and headed down the corridor towards the nurse's station.
He had a feeling the boys would need it.
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Dean paced silently back and forth in Sam's room.
Sure enough Dr. Kessin had been correct. Sam was fast asleep in a drug induced sleep and Dean was now beginning to wonder how long it would last.
Time was running out. Fast.
Walking over to Sam, Dean reached down and gently, stroked Sam's hair.
"I'll be right back Sammy..." Dean said quietly.
The elder brother strode towards the door, his hand on the handle. His body froze.
He couldn't open it.
It wasn't locked, but Dean simply couldn't leave Sam.
Not yet. It was too soon.
Dean felt the nerves dancing around his body. His aching limbs screamed for sleep and some decent food but for now Dean couldn't bow to any of their commands, not yet at least.
"I'm coming back Sammy, I promise..." Dean whispered out loud, more to reassure himself than his sleeping little brother.
Gritting his teeth, Dean snapped open the door and forced himself onto the other side of it and quietly closed the door behind him.
His heart was already racing violently. This wasn't normal. None of these feelings of panic and fear was normal for Dean Winchester.
Swallowing the fear and panic like a bitter pill, Dean Winchester stalked towards the elevators of the fifth floor ICU.
He had work to do...
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Silently Dean sat in the 1967 Chevy Impala, his pride and joy, his baby; his car.
Well not exactly true. It was his father's car, but little details like that didn't matter between families.
It hadn't taken Dean long to spot the black beauty of a car sitting lonely in the long term parking lot of the hospital.
...Family...Dean thought with a sniff as he sat in the driver's seat, his hands running over the steering wheel.
It felt clean, new, and tidy. In fact, it felt a little too clean for Dean's likeness. The Impala needed to be lived in, owned by people who loved it, drove by people who cared.
Dean cared. Sometimes a little too much about the Impala. It was a running joke between Dean and Sam, usually Sam always pointing out to his big brother that if it came between choosing who to save, the car or him- Dean might struggle with the decision.
Decisions, they could be a bastard as well.
Dean had too many to make tonight and nobody there to help him make them. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he had spent too many years of his life following what his father told him to do instead of making his own decisions.
What Dean wouldn't do to have someone make this decision for him tonight?
Sighing out loud, Dean studied the interior of the car. It was perfect, just like the exterior was. Even the devils trap was still engraved on the trunk, trapping evil out and leaving the weapons protected in the back. Dean had been thorough, going through everything in the trunk and mentally taking note of everything that still remained.
Almost everything had been where it was supposed to be. Everything but one piece. A pistol.
The Colt.
...Looks like daddy dearest didn't want to leave it in our hands... Dean thought miserably...He probably thinks I would have wasted the last bullet...
Dean sighed loudly, his voice echoing around the car, the smell of fresh wax piercing his nose. Dean's hazel green eyes fell on the glove box, it was the only place left for Dean to look in.
Sucking in a breath and glancing at the time, Dean noted that he'd already been gone exactly forty-seven minutes.
Within that time, he'd headed about ten miles south and booked a motel room and headed back to the hospital.
Now he sat in the parking lot of the hospital and even though he'd made all these decisions by himself so far, the biggest one still needed to be made.
...Come on Dean... Dean thought as he reached over to the glove box and opened it. Watching the trap drop open, his hazel green eyes stared at the worn book that sat waiting to be discovered.
Sighing out loud, Dean gingerly reached forward, his heart racing and pulled the book out.
It was John Winchester's Journal.
Dean sucked in his breath, his heart hammering in his chest, to the point where his stitches actually hurt.
Finally he opened the first page and there it sat.
A crisp clean page clipped into the book for either Sam or Dean to find.
Dean stared at his father's hand writing and his heart ached furiously. He was so angry, so angry with his father.
Reluctantly, Dean pulled the clipped page out and opened the A4 page slowly, wondering what kind of letter sat on the white clean page.
Dean's heart plunged to the pits of his stomach. Any ounce of hope he had been clinging onto self destructed as soon as his eyes fell on the page. All hope, any hope was gone.
Co-ordinates.
That was all.
Co-ordinates.
Dean felt the tears burn in his eyes, and he hadn't even realised they'd started to fall until they littered the clean, crisp white page he held.
Worthless.
That was all Dean could think. It was the only word that echoed about Dean's head. That's how he felt. Worthless to his father. No longer a son, just a commodity in the fight against evil. No love, no emotion. No nothing.
Nothing but a bunch of co-ordinates.
No, I'm sorry Dean for leaving you without saying goodbye. No, I'm sorry Dean for running off and leaving you with the responsibility of having to look after your brother. No, sorry for taking off and leaving you broken by your brother's bed side, while he lay in a coma. No, I'm sorry for not being there to take care of you when you needed me. No, I'm sorry for never showing you that I loved you. No, I'm sorry for never being a father to you.
No, I'm sorry for never telling you that I loved you.
Dean finally allowed the tears to fall from his corrupted soul. God the tears hurt. The abandonment. The loneliness. Everything buried out of Dean's body like an illness.
After what felt like a life time, Dean finally lifted his head from the steering wheel. His eyes felt raw, his head ached and his face felt dry.
He needed to get back to Sam.
Taking in a shaky breath, Dean opened the car door and stepped out into the cool evening breeze. He locked the car, and glanced at the paper that still housed his father's co-ordinates.
Dean didn't care where they led to. Or more importantly, he didn't care who they led to.
Sam was the only thing that mattered to him now. Sam was all Dean had. He'd lost him once; he was never ever going to lose his little brother again.
Dean ripped the paper into as many angry pieces as he could. He then opened his palm and watched as the cool evening breeze blew the pieces away, scattering them around the parking lot.
Sam couldn't see him weak. Sam couldn't see him defeated. Sam could never know that John Winchester never loved them or wanted them back in his life.
Dean would keep the memory of their father, a good honest hunter alive for his little brother forever, well, for as long as he mentally could before he broke down.
Sam would need him strong, and there to help him get better. Crying over a father, who didn't love you; that Dean didn't have time for.
With new resolve and a shaky breath, Dean marched back towards the hospital.
The decision was made. They were all wrong. Dean could take care of Sam.
And he'd prove it.
As he wondered back towards the hospital, Dean wondered whether or not there was a jail sentence for kidnapping your own brother...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
...He's the key...The demon whispered venomously...Dean's the key to you...
Sam stared at the demon, its yellow eyes burrowing a hole into the very depths of Sam's soul. Sam struggled furiously with the hand snaked around his neck.
...Leave Dean alone...Sam begged...He's not a part of this fight. You have me, just take me and do what you want with..-
...And what would be the fun in that Sam...The demon chimed...Nope, sometimes you need a key to open a lock...
Sam stared at confusion at the demon, trying to ignore the swagger in its voice.
...Dean...Sam yelled loudly, his eyes darting around furiously looking for his brother...DEAN...!
...Sam...The demon mimicked only calling for the younger hunter...It's useless you piece of shit, he can't save you. Not this time...
...DEAN...Sam screamed...
...Sam...The demon yelled.
"Sam...?" Dean said gently sitting down on the end of his brother's bed, "Sammy..?"
Sam's eyes snapped open at a force he was sure was inhuman. As soon as Dean's concerned face adjusted in his vision, Sam finally relaxed. It was then Sam actually realised how terrible he felt.
"Hey Sammy..." Dean said now moving from sitting at the end of the bed to by the side of his brother. The room was dimly lit, Dean only having switched on the small bed side lamp.
Sam studied his brother's face, "Are you ok, your eyes are red..."
"Just a bit tired.." Dean admitted with a sigh as he tucked one of his legs under him trying to relax his fidgeting body.
" Tough couple days huh...?" Sam whispered as he stifled a yawn. "What time is it..?"
Dean glanced at his watch, "It's almost midnight..."
"You ok...?" Sam said in a tired tone as he saw the look on Dean's face.
" I'm fine Sam, it's you I'm worried about..." Dean admitted, " Can't have anything happening to my baggie tubbie friend, now can I..?"
"What..?" Sam whispered as he looked at Dean's grinning face, and a small weak smile baited to his own face, "I thought I imagined that..."
"Did you also imagine the whole 'one man and his dog' scene...?" Dean said with a grin, "Because, I got to tell you something Sammy, I'm keeping the bragging rights to this one..."
"I'm such a moron..." Sam said rolling his eyes, which he regretted.
"Not a moron, just a majorily doped up idiot..." Dean said with a dry chuckle.
A silence fell between them, and Dean sat staring at Sam's face. Sam could feel his eyes closing off.
"Hey, come on, don't go to sleep on me..." Dean said, unable to stand the sight of watching Sam sleep. He knew that was going to haunt him for a very long time.
Sam sleeping.
It reminded Dean a little too much of what Sam looked like when he was dead. Dean shuddered involuntarily at the memory.
"You ok..?" Sam asked, his voice now slurring.
"Yeah, I'll be just fine, as long as you don't go to sleep on me..." Dean admitted. "I just want us to talk..."
"I'm sorry..." Sam said in a tired tone.
Dean was beginning to feel for the little guy, it was hard enough just trying to keep your eyes open when you were naturally tired, never mind having a neurotic older brother on your tail telling you to keep awake while being heavily doped up on sedatives and painkillers- however to Sam's credit, he was trying.
"Sorry about what...?" Dean asked confused, "You got..-"
"About not believing you Dee..." Sam said as he tiredly raised his hand and gently let it rest on top of Dean's. To Sam's surprise Dean held tightly onto his hand.
"It's ok Sammy; I know why you did it..." Dean admitted, "But I promise you things will be ok, you just have to trust me..."
Sam nodded quietly and left his hand in his brothers. He couldn't fight the pull for sleep anymore. He was too exhausted.
Dean studied Sam's face. That wasn't exactly the reaction he was hoping for when he had asked Sam whether or not he trusted him.
"Sam...?" Dean asked again, this time his free hand reaching up and moving some hair from his brother's forehead, "I'm talking to you..."
"I'm listening..." Sam managed to say, his voice almost vacant. "How's dad...? When's he coming..?"
"Soon..." Dean said in a shallow voice, plunging his guilt further. "Dad's coming soon Sammy..."
He was going to hell, straight to friggin hell.
"Sam, I need to know if you trust me..." Dean asked again, "Sammy look at me please, I know you're tired little man, but I need you to talk to me please..."
Sam forced his tired eyes open; it felt like someone was rubbing raw white onions in his eyes. It was just painful.
"I trust you with my life..." Sam whispered as he almost gasped when his eyes took in Dean's tear ridden face. " Dean, what's going...-"
"Then I need you to do something for me..." Dean said trying to ignore the fact that somewhere along the line, his body had deceived him and the tears had stared to fall from his eyes.
It was bizarre the things your body did when it was tired. Well, it was the excuse Dean was going to keep driving home to himself.
"What do you want me to do..?" Sam asked as worry swept through him, "Dean you're scaring me, what's wrong...?"
Dean bent down and picked up the black duffle bag, opened it and begun to take out a pair of jogging bottoms, t-shirt, underwear and socks.
Sam stared at the clothes and then slowly, Sam's tried eyes found its way to the tear brimming eyes of his elder brother.
"We got to leave..." Dean explained in his own special way, "We got to go now..."
" Hang on, Dean, whoa slow down here..." Sam said as he tried to push Dean's hurrying hands off him. "What about the tests and stuff tomorrow...?"
Dean clicked his tongue as he stood back and looked at his brother, "You heard that huh..?"
"Dean, I need to know what is going on..." Sam asked again, he was passed worrying about how Dean took what he said, the truth was; this Dean in front of Sam was scaring him.
"I know you need to know what's going on, but truth is, I don't have the time to explain it to you..." Dean admitted, "We need to leave now. That's why I'm asking you to trust me..."
Sam slowly looked at Dean's face who was hurrying around the room trying to collect every scrap of evidence that showed sign of any Winchesters ever being present at this hospital, and especially this room.
"You're scared..." Sam finally said which caused Dean to pause.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but..." Dean's voice broke off as he stared at Sam, "This decision, I couldn't risk, I can't..."
"It's ok..." Sam finally said as Dean watched as Sam groggily and tiredly tried to pull himself unsuccessfully into a sitting position on the bed. Dean went to his side and helped him sit up. Sam grabbed Dean's hand and held it tightly in his. Sam was surprised that Dean was trembling under his touch.
"You'll tell me later...?" Sam whispered, "When we get out of here, you promise to tell me what this was all about..?"
"I promise you Sam, I'll tell you everything..." Dean said with a furious nod of his head.
"I trust you Dean..." Sam admitted, "I do trust you..."
To both Sam and Dean's surprise, Dean threw his arms around Sam and hugged him tightly.
Sam couldn't understand why, but he had a feeling this hug was significant, he couldn't remember the last time Dean had actually hugged him.
Dean clung tightly to his younger brother, both in happiness and in sadness.
Happiness that Sam trusted and loved him enough to put his faith in him.
Sadness because Dean Winchester prayed that this decision to get Sam out of the hospital before the tests were done; wouldn't come back to haunt either of them. He was playing with his brother's life.
Literally.
Only time would tell if he had made the right decision...
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(sniffs) They hugged ! Well, I had to put something in there, after all Dean is upset and feels a little abandoned by John and poor old Sam, well, he just misses Dean. Thanks for reading and please don't forget to leave a review….