Coma

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic. Any characters you don't recognise from the show, I probably own – oh, and I guess maybe the plot of this fic belongs to me as well, maybe, kind of, possibly.

Thank you again for the reviews for this – and kudos for the puppy suggestion . It gave me an idea… Hehehe…

Oh, yeah – shameless plug. Please check out my website! And leave feedback, of course.

Also, I probably won't be able to update this for at least three weeks, since I'll be going away in about a week's time for two weeks, and I don't think I'll be able to get chapter five completed before I go.

Brief recap of previous chapter: Sam finally talked to the police, and had to lie to them since he couldn't exactly admit the truth – that he had been the one who'd shot Dean.
Back in the other realm, Dean had decided that he had obviously gone mad, and that he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. He then found a photo of Mary Winchester with him and Sam as adults…

Sam walked into Dean's room with heavy, slow steps. The conversation with the police officers had gone better than he had hoped, in spite of the fact that his grief over what had happened with Dean meant that Sam wasn't as good at making up stories as he usually was.

At least they'll probably think that my fractured story is a result of my grief over what happened to my brother, Sam thought. Well, that was partly the truth – just not the whole story, and with a few slight details changed.

There was no one else in Dean's room, and the younger Winchester was actually rather glad of that. He wasn't feeling up to trying to make polite conversation with a doctor or nurse while his brother lay in a coma. He wouldn't be responsible for what he might say or do…

"Hey, Dean." Sam slowly sank down into the chair next to his brother's bed, and reached out to place his hand over Dean's – the one that didn't have the needle sticking out of it. "I just spoke to the police, and told them what happened. You'd have been proud of me; I didn't slip up on the details once." Which, if Dean was awake and well, he'd understand to mean that Sam had succeeded in lying.

Of course, maybe Dean wouldn't want to listen to anything Sam said if – no, when – he woke up…

Sam cast a glance back over his shoulder, and was relieved to see that there was no one looking like they were about to come in. His grip tightened on Dean's hand, and he leaned forward slightly. "Dean… you have to get better," he pleaded. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean any of it, I swear." Tears pricked at Sam's eyes, and he dashed them away with his other hand, then went still.

For just a moment, Sam could have sworn that Dean's fingers had flexed slightly. Holding his breath, not even daring to hope, Sam stared at his brother.

Dean didn't move, only the slight rise and fall of his chest even showing that he was alive at all – and there were no signs that he was close to waking up at all. However, Sam somehow had the feeling that a part of Dean could hear him… He couldn't have said how or why – but he grabbed hold of that hope with both hands and just held on tight.

It's got to be a good sign… Right?

For a moment, Sam wondered if he should call Doctor Nelson and ask about what he was sure he had just felt. However, Sam was pretty sure that he knew what the doctor might say to that – something to do with reflexes, he guessed. But Sam didn't want to hear that. He just wanted to keep hoping that Dean was going to wake up soon.

No matter what the doctors might say about it…

Sam took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "You know, Dean, you'd probably like this hospital," he commented. "If you were awake, that is. You've always said that the things that make a good hospital are the 'hot' nurses – and there are plenty of those here." He smiled, but his mouth was trembling a little, and he wasn't feeling at all happy. "Actually, I think one of the volunteers gave me her phone number or something." As Sam said this, he remembered the slip of paper he had been handed.

I'm pretty sure that it is only a phone number… But she was very secretive over giving it to me, so maybe I'd better have a look.

Sam slipped his hand into his pocket, nudging aside the card with the phone number of the police on, and took out the folded-up piece of paper. For a moment, he just looked at it, unsure of what he really wanted to do. If it was the volunteer wanting to get to know him better, it would be easier for Sam to turn her down if he didn't know what the note said.

Then again… it might not be that at all, Sam thought. It's not like I really know much about how other people's minds work – I might be psychic, but it doesn't automatically give me insight into the female mind.

Sam unfolded the piece of paper, and read it with a gradually growing frown.

Look up the names 'Allyson Wilcox' and 'Jason Myers'. There are others, but those are the main ones.
I'd talk to you face-to-face, but it's not necessarily safe in or around the surrounding area of the hospital.
Jody.

Sam read through the note twice, and then tore it in half, putting it back into his pocket. He really didn't know what Jody meant by those words. Had something happened in the hospital? From the tone of her note, it seemed like there was something strange, and probably bad, going on here.

"Well, this doesn't make much sense," Sam commented, partly to the limp form of his brother, and partly to himself. The sense of urgency on the note came through fully to the younger Winchester, so he didn't go into any detail at all about what had been written there.

The note itself had been written with a rather neat hand. That was quite surprising, since for years Sam had believed that having unreadable handwriting was a job requirement for doctors. But maybe it was different for assistants and volunteers.

I guess I'd better try and talk to her about this… But away from the hospital.

Sam kept his hand over Dean's, willing his brother to wake up, to open his eyes, to show some sign of consciousness. If I have any powers at all, then surely they must be able to do this one little thing for me. Please.

"Please," Sam repeated, out loud this time. "What's my life going to be like without my annoying, pain-in-the-ass big brother? Who's gonna pick me up when I fall? Dean, you have to wake up. I can't do this, any of it, without you." Sam hoped that Dean still cared enough not to ignore a heartfelt plea from his younger brother.

"It's a good thing that you're talking to him – even if there's no response that you can see."

Sam jerked slightly, and then relaxed, recognising the voice as belonging to Doctor Nelson. He looked up at the doctor. "He's going to wake up." It wasn't a question – Sam was clinging to that hope, and wasn't about to let himself think any different. He couldn't handle losing his brother.

"Yes, we're doing everything we can," Doctor Nelson replied. "I promise. Anyway," he continued. "I thought that I should make sure that you have someplace to sleep. Your brother won't be happy if you end up wearing yourself out."

"I'm staying at a motel…" Sam replied, but without much interest. What did he care if he ended up being completely shattered? But then… Dean would care, so he guessed that he maybe should as well. "It's near the hospital," the younger Winchester continued, as if that made all the difference in the world.

Doctor Nelson gave a slight frown. "That's not really the best of arrangements," he said. "Especially since we're not sure when your brother will wake up. The money will certainly be a problem."

Sam managed to refrain from commenting that cash wasn't that much of an issue, and instead asked, "What do you suggest, then? I can't very well stay at the hospital."

"My niece has some room in her apartment," Doctor Nelson answered after a moment's thought. "I'm sure Jody won't mind if you'd like to stay there for a little while – if you can put some money towards the rent and bills, of course, while you're there."

Jody? Sam thought. The same one who passed me that note? If it was her, then that would take care of two problems at once. She'd have to tell him what she meant with the note if he was staying with her.

But then again… things are drawn to Dean and I like moths to a flame. How do I know that I won't be putting her in danger by staying in the same house as her? Sam wasn't sure he could put anyone at that kind of risk. Getting other people involved in the war against the evil supernatural beings had always been a big no-no. They even tried to keep people already involved out of harm's way.

No way am I gonna start putting people in danger now

"Mr. Winchester?" Doctor Nelson questioned, watching Sam carefully.

"It's all right," Sam replied, looking up at the doctor, keeping his face carefully expressionless. "I wouldn't want to put you or your niece to any trouble. Money's not that much of a problem, honestly."

Don't be such an idiot, Sammy. The man's offering you an easy way out. Take it, you jerk.

Dean's voice sounded so clearly inside Sam's head that the younger Winchester actually had to look over at his brother's still form just to check that he hadn't woken up and Sam had missed it. Oh, great… Now I'm hearing voices. That is so not what I need.

"It's not like it would be a problem," Doctor Nelson replied with a slight shrug. "But, of course, it is up to you."

"I'll think about it," Sam said, not making any promises. Truth be told, he didn't want to accept this at all. However, he was sensible enough to see the pros as well as the cons. Maybe it would be all right if it was only for a short while… Trouble was, Sam had no idea how long Dean was going to be in a coma for, how long before the doctors decided that he wasn't going to wake up and…

Stop it, Sam told himself, clutching his hand over his brother's. He was just making himself feel even worse, and how could that help Dean? The doctor's right. I need to take care of myself as well. Maybe if it's only for a couple of days… until I can make arrangements… "I have a… friend of the family coming here in a couple of days," Sam said, suddenly thinking of Missouri.

"I'm sure that there wouldn't be a problem with putting up your friend as well," Doctor Nelson replied. "Oh, but perhaps you should talk to Jody about it first before I make any agreements for her."

"Maybe… You could send her in here, if you like," Sam offered, before he really thought about it. After all, Doctor Nelson hadn't actually said for sure that his niece worked at the hospital – Sam had just assumed that Jody the niece and Jody the volunteer was one and the same person.

Doctor Nelson looked towards Sam, raising his eyebrows. "Hm? How did you know that she's here?" he asked.

"Oh, I just met a volunteer when I was coming in who I think is called Jody," Sam answered. "I just assumed that it was the same person… She was late from her lunch break or something, I think." Truth be told, he hadn't really been that interested.

"That sounds like her," Doctor Nelson commented, walking over to check on the wires that hooked Dean up to the life support machine. "It's not really that she makes a habit of it – just sometimes that she loses track of the time. Your brother has quite a strong heart," the doctor continued, changing the subject. "From what I can tell, he has plenty of will to live, something that's always important in a situation like this."

Sam blinked, glancing up at the doctor. Something in the man's tone had caught his attention. What was it? Sadness, fear, anger? All three? However, the doctor's expression looked pretty normal, and Sam wasn't sure if he had simply imagined the strange tone of his voice. If he hadn't, was it something to do with the note he had been given?

Of course… the people here might just be insane. That was always a possibility. Sam was just going to reserve judgement on what was true and what wasn't until he'd learned more about the whole situation. And the best way of doing that was to do research. At least it'll keep me busy, he thought. "Is there a library near here?" he questioned out loud. That would be the obvious place to look, after all.

"Yes, there's one in the next street," the doctor replied. "Huge building – you can't miss it. Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Nah, just want to do some research while I'm here," Sam said. Until he had something concrete to go on, he didn't want to talk about the contents of the note with anyone. "I think I'll go take a look now," he added, straightening up. "I won't be long. Let me know if anything changes. Here's my mobile number." He scribbled it down on a slip of paper, and handed it to the doctor, before heading over to the door.

Keeping busy is probably the best thing to do right now, so that I don't lose my mind…

"I'll get Jody to call you if she finishes work before you get back," Doctor Nelson offered.

"Sure, whatever," Sam replied without turning round.

Well, I'm not sure I really want to do this, Dean thought, as he slipped his hand beneath the blankets.

The older Winchester brother's hand closed around a sheaf of papers. With a slight frown, he carefully drew them out, casting a glance towards the door as he did so. Could these hold some kind of clue?

A glance down at the sheets revealed that they were letters. Dean bit his lip slightly, getting a very bad feeling about this. Don't suicide victims sometimes leave notes for their families? Of course, there was no way – not in a million years – that Dean would ever want to kill himself. Leave his little brother alone against all of those evil things that existed in the world? Not a chance.

But the letters seemed to suggest something different…

The first two were addressed to Dean's Mom and Dad, and talked a bit about regrets, but didn't really mention anything about dying. No surprise there. Dean had always felt a lot closer to his brother than his Dad. If it came to a choice between them, Dean would choose Sammy every time.

And Sam was the only person Dean felt that he could trust with his life, even when Sam had left him to go to Stanford.

So what's going on in this life? It seems so perfect… And yet, from the tone of these letters, it seems like I was unhappy enough to kill myself…

After another glance towards the door, Dean settled back a little to read the letter his 'other self' had written to his brother.

Sam.
I'm sorry for doing this to you. Bro, you know that leaving you is the last thing that I want to do, but I can't handle this. This life of ours grates on my teeth – there's not much here that interests me. I know that you're happy, Sammy, and I used to think that I was as well. But… well, I simply can't cope with this anymore.
I'm really sorry, Sammy. Please be happy, for me.
Dean.

Dean stared at the letter for a long moment, unable to believe what he was reading. The evidence was there in front of him, and yet…

There was another piece of paper, but all that said was Forgive me. It didn't even have a name on it, but Dean somehow had the feeling that his parallel self – if he wasn't mad or dreaming – had intended that note to be for Amber.

Oh, man… Looks like it wasn't just beer that was being consumed last night.

Sam might have been the one who'd gone to college, but that didn't mean Dean wasn't smart. If this was some kind of parallel world, then he guessed that there had been some kind of gate opened. He didn't know for sure, but he somehow had the feeling that, at the same time he'd been shot, other Dean had attempted to kill himself, and a weak point had been created.

So… two questions remain. Firstly, how do I find out if my theory is correct? Secondly, how do I get back to my world? Oh, wait… There's a third question. What about the demons and the other evil things? Do they still exist?

If his and Sam's mother was still alive, then it was probable that they'd never found out about the supernatural. They'd lived practically normal lives, and both Dean and Sam had gone to college.

And this Dean had tried to kill himself…

Is this what would have happened if Mom had never been killed? I would have died instead?

One thing was clear – until Dean knew for certain what was going on, he was going to have to stick with the partial amnesia theory. It was painful to realise that he couldn't even talk to Sam about the whole situation without his little brother thinking that he was insane. The best thing that Dean could do was to do everything he could not to let this Sam find out what had happened, and hope that, once he returned to his world, things here would get better.

But it wasn't really any of his business…

Dean was just contemplating the pros and cons of burning the letters when he became aware of the sound of something moving around under the bed. Dean being Dean, he automatically assumed the worst, and scrambled up, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, and letting loose with a few choice curses when that fact registered.

Oh, come on… Wouldn't other me still carry a gun around with him? Surely I'm not that different!

As it turned out, what was under the bed wasn't a demon or a ghost or some other supernatural entity. No, in fact it was so much worse.

A brown Springer spaniel puppy crept out from underneath the bed. As brown eyes met Dean's hazel ones, the puppy let out a series of sharp barks, and ran over to jump up at Dean, trying to lick his face.

Dean had never liked dogs, mainly because a dog had gone for little Sammy years ago, but also because of the whole werewolf thing – both were canines, after all. This dog had better not belong to the Dean of this world!

Dean shoved the dog away. "Stop it! I'm not your owner!" he exclaimed, raising his voice.

The dog let out a little whine, and dropped down, looking up at Dean out of soft eyes. A moment later, though, it was up and trying to get to Dean again.

"Argh!" Dean ducked to the side. "Stupid dog! Didn't I house train you!"

"Dean?" It was Sam's voice at the door, and, a moment later, the younger Winchester walked into the room. "What's wrong?" He looked at the dog. "Oh, so that's where Brownie went."

"Brownie!" Dean glared at Sam. "What's a dog doing in my room?"

"Oh, the dog belongs to Amber," Sam replied with a slight shrug, apparently accepting it as commonplace that his brother had partial amnesia. "She brought him with her when she moved in. Are you all right, bro?" Sam asked, peering at Dean. "You look kind of pale." His eyes moved to the papers that Dean had dropped onto the floor. "Here, I'll get those for you."

"Stay away from those!" As soon as the words had left Dean's mouth, he regretted them. His tone had been unnecessarily sharp.

Sam shot his brother a slightly stricken look, and backed away slowly from the sheets of paper. "Dean, what's wrong? You're acting really strangely…"

Dean took a deep breath, and prepared himself to lie to his brother. It's for his own good. But Dean still felt bad about it… "Sorry, I guess I'm just feeling a bit out of it right now, what with having lost part of my memory," he answered with a slight shrug. "Anyway… Those notes are private. They're birthday present ideas," he added quickly, suddenly struck with an idea.

Sam gave his brother a rather odd look. "No one's birthday is that close."

Well, other Sam's birthday isn't that far away… But maybe today was a different date than he remembered? Then again, Sam's birthday date may have been changed…

Dean shrugged, and gave a small smirk. "I like to be prepared," he responded, moving over to pick up the papers. Well, he couldn't exactly burn them now, so, after a moment's hesitation, he shoved them inside the nearest drawer.

Hey, I never claimed to be organised.

"Well, I'll go and take Brownie back downstairs," Sam said, picking up the dog, who immediately licked his chin. The younger Winchester grimaced slightly, and then turned towards the door, reaching out to open it one-handed. "I'm going to have to change my shirt now," he muttered.

"Whatever." Dean shoved the drawer closed. Well, obviously the Sam Winchester of this world isn't all that observant… He was looking for my boots under the bed, and he didn't see the puppy there? Well, unless Sam had deliberately not said anything about Brownie just to see how Dean would react to finding the dog.

Some things never change…

After a few moments of searching, Dean managed to find his black jacket. He slipped it on, and then walked out of the door and made his way back down the stairs.

Jessica was standing near the foot of the stairs, her back to Dean. "Hey, are you all right…?" Dean made his way over to her, fighting down the urge to stay as far away from her as possible.

She's not dead in this world…

Jessica turned round, and Dean couldn't stop his eyes from widening in shock.