Coma
Chapter Ten
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural – as much as I would like to – and I'm not making any money from this fic. Any character you don't recognise from the show, I probably own
Warning(s): Spoilers; some swearing; angst; a small(!) amount of making out; some violence; some bits that could be seen as scary/horrible
Author's Note: -Hugs everyone who's read and reviewed this fic-. You're all really great! I must admit to some surprise here with the amount of people adding this to story alert lists and things. Hm… I wonder how many reviews there'd be if every person who read this fic left one.
Oh, well… It doesn't matter. As I said before, so long as there's at least one person reading and enjoying this fic, it'll likely continue. But as I have also said before – I welcome constructive criticism. If there are things readers think could be better or done differently, then by all means, point it out.
Having said that – I guess I must be doing something right with this fic. Now to keep the readers interested…
Brief recap of previous chapter: Sam talked to Missouri on the phone, and agreed to pick her up at the airport that afternoon. He then talk to Amber, and attempted to persuade her to come to Rockford. After hanging up, he then collapsed.
At the hospital, Doctor Nelson revealed to Jody and John Winchester (going by the name of Doctor Herring) that he had found large quantities of alcohol and sleeping pills in Dean's stomach.
Meanwhile, Dean attempted to persuade Sam of the other world of the existence of parallel universes – this ended with Sam walking off. Before Dean could go into the library, though, Amber called him…
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He opened his eyes as he felt soft hands stroking his face and heard a voice whispering softly in his ear. He didn't recognise the words – but he wasn't worried. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle touch.
"You haven't been paying any attention to me…" He could hear the pout in her voice, and he released a sigh, opening his eyes to look up at the woman whose lap he was resting in.
"I'm sorry."
"You should be." She smiled, and gently smoothed his hair. "I don't know why you stay in that world, though…" she continued, pursing her lips slightly. "Isn't it much better to be here with me, where there's nothing to concern you? No hurt or rage exists here in this world…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, and then she lowered her head to kiss him gently, holding him close.
He returned the kiss, ignoring the slight niggling sensation at the back of his mind that seemed to suggest something was wrong. He drew back as he pushed himself up, and wrapped his arms around the slim form in front of him, needing to be close to the woman. He kissed her again, deepening the kiss and pushing her back against one of the trees.
She didn't taste like water anymore… He couldn't have described what the sensation was like, but it seemed to be a combination of all the scents and tastes he had ever enjoyed in his life. He pressed nearer, needing more, wanting more. Right then and there, all he wanted was to stay there like that with her forever. He could have forgotten about everything else – he wanted to do that.
But something was still trying to get his attention…
He frowned, pulling away from her arms. "There's something I have to find…" He made no attempt to hide the urgency in his tone. There was something really important to him – and if he didn't find it, things were going to get even worse.
The woman frowned, and reached out for him. "Forget about it…" she said. "It's not important."
He was trying to dispel the fog that had taken hold of his mind, but it was quite strong. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't pierce it through completely.
But he did realise that, whoever this woman was, she wasn't a friend.
"Stay away from me…!" Sam exclaimed, backing away from her. "You… did something to me! What did you do to my mind!"
"Nothing that you didn't want," the woman replied, watching him closely. "I made the pain and guilt go away… Why don't you say thank you? It was what you wanted!" She took a step towards him, and then paused as Sam began to back away. "I'm not going to give it back to you."
Wake up! Sam mentally ordered himself, hoping against hope that it was just a dream… But nothing was working. He wondered if he should pinch himself – but he was worried that it would actually hurt. Apparently, he had to find some other way of waking him up – but one thing he wasn't going to do was go anywhere near the woman if he had any choice in the matter.
I can't find a way to wake up until I remember what I've lost, though…
As if reading his mind, the woman commented, "You're not going to be able to get away from me. But I'm not going to hurt you. If you do what I tell you, your life will be perfect."
Sam shook his head, backing away even further from the woman, not caring that he was just moving deeper into the dark forest. He wanted to get away from the woman, and he wanted to find what he had lost – but it seemed like neither of those things was possible.
Why can't I remember…? What's the use in being a psychic if I can't even break something like this?
"I can give Jessica back to you."
Sam hesitated in spite of himself. The woman's words were surprising in just how tempting it was to stay and listen to her. He knew that it was probably some kind of trick, but he couldn't prevent himself from listening.
Almost unconsciously, Sam took a step back towards the woman, in spite of his realisation that bringing someone back from the dead was impossible.
The desire to see Jessica, to hold her – even if it was for only one last time – was intense. Sam started to reach a hand out to the woman.
I wouldn't do that.
Sam paused, coming back to himself suddenly and violently. Four simple words – and yet, they stopped the fog that had started coming with the woman's mention of Jessica.
Seriously, I wouldn't, the voice continued. You don't know where that bitch has been, or even if she's had all her shots.
Sam was almost afraid to turn round, to turn his back on the woman, in case it was some kind of trick. But the woman's face was turning hard and cold, and Sam was beginning to remember what he had forgotten, what he had lost. As he turned round, he clung to that voice like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline, offering a silent prayer to whatever god watched over his family.
Dean hadn't changed a lot – certainly not as much as he should have done, with him being in a coma. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his eyes were focused on Sam. The younger Winchester thought he saw a flicker of… something cross his brother's face, but he couldn't be certain.
"Dean…?" Sam whispered. "Does this mean that you're…?"
"Sorry, little brother," Dean replied, his tone and face sympathetic. "This is your subconscious – you've just conjured me up."
Sam frowned, and turned back to the woman. "Does this mean that I've also conjured her up?" he asked. In a way, that could be a good thing – that this was the product of a mind hurting too much with grief and guilt to deal with what was going on in real life. Sam realised that he had to face up to what he had done, though, no matter how tempting it was to dump the responsibility onto someone else's shoulders.
But Dean was shaking his head. "I'm afraid not, Sammy," he replied. "This kind of demon feeds on the fear and grief that people are suffering. The emotions give them their power. Remember, you read up on these types of demons a while back." As he spoke, Dean walked up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother.
Then and there, Sam didn't care that Dean was only awake and well in his subconscious. It felt better than he could say to have his brother standing next to him, supporting him, just like he always had done. Dean had always been willing to protect Sam, to give up his own life and happiness if it meant that his little brother could be safe.
Sam had always thought that the same had been true for him…
The woman was hesitating. With each second that passed, Sam could feel his mind growing sharper and sharper. Something was also beginning to occur to him about the demon – the Vereor demon, if he recalled right. It created a form of mind control in order to keep its victims calm and docile while it fed.
But once the mind control was fully broken, it temporarily stunned the demon…
"Very good, little brother." Dean raised his hands to applaud Sam, but didn't take his eyes off the woman. "You know what you have to do now, little brother? Keep as far away from her as possible until you're woken up." He raised his eyebrows at Sam. "I mean… Tell me you at least have a pretty woman with you who'll make sure you wake up. No? Then at least tell me you did something freakishly boring like set your alarm."
"I sort of fell asleep before I had the chance to do anything like that," Sam answered, ignoring the first comment about the pretty woman.
Dean rolled his eyes, and sighed. "You're falling apart without me there…" he commented. "Better get moving, you know. I'll hold her off."
Sam hesitated a moment, then, "Won't it affect me if something were to happen to you?" The demon still seemed to be stunned, and Sam was gradually beginning to get suspicious. Surely it wouldn't be lasting this long?
Dean turned, and smirked at Sam. "Oh, nothing's going to happen to me," he replied. "But it'll be you who gets hurt anyway."
Sam suddenly realised that the demon hadn't been stunned at all. It had allowed him to remember what he had lost – his brother – simply in order to be able to attack him from a new angle.
Sam backed away, no longer feeling safe around this Dean. It wasn't even Dean at all, but some kind of illusion created by the demon. He couldn't prevent the feeling of despair that washed over him. That must have been the demon's intention, but Sam couldn't figure out a way of breaking the hold. He continued to back away, but his efforts were futile.
And the demon knew it.
Before he could do anything else, the form of the demon began to melt away, revealing something that was truly horrible.
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Doctor Nelson turned round with a slight frown, watching his niece with slightly narrowed eyes. "Why would you ask that?" he questioned. "Do you really think it's an appropriate question to ask right now?"
John Winchester glanced at Jody, and then over towards Doctor Nelson. "The other people in comas? Is there something connecting them?"
"Just some… fancies of a reporter," Doctor Nelson replied. "You know how it is. People die in this hospital – but there are those who see some big conspiracy theory. It's always very sad – but what are we supposed to do? I'm afraid that this reporter was trying to discredit the hospital, and she managed to persuade my niece to her point of view."
John frowned slightly as he turned his attention back to Jody, who wasn't saying anything. She had her head down, and was alternating between fidgeting with her hands and shuffling from one foot to the other. Apparently, she didn't know what to say to the doctor's words.
I've no idea what's really going on here… I should try and talk to Jody alone to find out what she knows.
Doctor Nelson didn't look like he was about to leave the room, though – and John wouldn't expect him to. It was the doctor's job to take care of his patients, even more so when the patient was John's son.
"Why do you ask about memory loss?" John immediately drew Jody's attention. Before she could say anything, he continued, "Has something happened to his brother? I generally tend to find that it's the people who have been in the coma who suffer from the memory loss – not members of their family."
Doctor Nelson frowned as John spoke, and shot him a look as if to say not to encourage his niece. He didn't say anything, though, and walked over to check the IV sticking into Dean's arm and then the level of fluid entering his body.
Jody hesitated, glancing towards her uncle, and then back at John. "Um… Not really," she replied. "Sorry, I just noticed something strange about him… But I guess it must be something like stress." She attempted a smile, and then cast a glance at her uncle, biting her lip and narrowing her eyes slightly.
John immediately followed Jody's gaze, and frowned, noticing the pale skin, and the sheen of sweat on Doctor Nelson's face. As he reached for the clipboard by Dean's bed, his hands shook, and as he brought one up to wipe across his forehead, John couldn't help noticing that his eyes were unusually bright.
"Are you all right?" John asked, wondering if he was missing something. Jody wasn't saying anything, which suggested that either she didn't care about her uncle possibly being sick.
Or she already knew about it…
"Yes, I'm fine." Doctor Nelson smiled – although it was a poor attempt. "It's been quite a wearying time lately."
John nodded slowly, understanding that. His gaze turned once again to Dean's limp form as he wondered whether his oldest son could hear what they were saying or not. He had mixed feelings about that, mainly since he was going to have to leave before Dean woke up. And he refused to even consider the possibility that his boy might not wake up. This was Dean. Nothing could happen to him.
I don't want him to feel like his brother's abandoned him…
The trouble was, as far as John was aware, it was possible that Sam had abandoned Dean, in a way. Probably not deliberately – but it had been clear from the message left on John's cell phone that Sam blamed himself for what had happened to Dean. Sam tended to beat himself up about things that weren't entirely his fault.
Dean wouldn't let him blame himself…
"I'd like to look at some of the other cases of coma victims," John said out loud. "Just to see if there's anything that could be applied in this case." It could also serve the purpose of discovering how much danger Dean was in, if any, of course.
Doctor Nelson turned towards Jody. "Would you find the reports for Doctor Herring, please?" he requested. "I should talk to one of or two of the nurses who have been tending to Dean Winchester."
Hot nurses? John wondered. He'll be really annoyed when he wakes up if there are hot nurses looking after him and he hasn't seen them…! John looked towards Jody; sure that his face wasn't showing even a hint of what was going through his mind. "Yes, please do show me the reports," he requested. Although, if Sam was staying at Jody's apartment, John really felt that she should be making sure he was all right.
"All right," Jody replied as she turned to leave the room. Just before she walked out, though, she said, "I think I may need to go back home after that, though… I thought I was better from the bug that hit me this morning, but I'm actually beginning to feel much worse now."
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It wasn't until Dean got to the apartment that it occurred to him that he didn't actually have a key to get inside. When he'd asked Sam about getting to the library, it hadn't even crossed his mind that he'd need a key to the apartment.
It's probably because I don't feel like I belong here…
Well, unless Amber had suddenly decided that she absolutely had to go out, she should be inside to let him into the apartment. But he was going to have to find the key this world's Dean had to have. It would be quite ridiculous if he had to rely on Sam or even Amber or Jessica to get inside the building.
Dean raised his hand, and pressed the doorbell harder than was really necessary. He heard the sound resonate inside, and grimaced slightly. The sound of a doorbell ringing could be quite annoying when trying to concentrate on something. But it was a great tool to annoy other people with.
After a moment, Dean heard the sound of someone opening the inner door. He could just about make out a certain hesitation in the movements, though – as if the person was nervous about who might be at the door.
Dean tapped his foot, and rested his arm on the wall as he waited for the front door to be opened. Patience might be a virtue… But I have plenty of virtues – I don't need patience as well.
Finally, the door was opened by Amber. For a moment, she just stood there staring at Dean. Then, her shoulders slumped slightly, and she sighed. "Come in…" she mumbled, taking a step back from the doorway.
"Hey, you're the one who asked me to come by." Dean stepped through the doorway, and closed the door behind him. "So what happened? You weren't very clear on the phone."
Amber flushed, and looked down a moment. "I just freaked out at getting a prank call," she admitted. "Calling you was the first thing that occurred to me, and there likely wasn't any reason to do so. Sorry. Were you doing anything important?"
"Really just trying to find any information on parallel worlds," Dean answered. "Well, I'd been about to do that – but you called before I could go into the library."
"Right…" Amber turned to walk through the hallway. "Are you hungry at all? I made some breakfast, but after the call, I sort of lost my appetite… I fed Brownie the bacon, but there are still some pancakes and eggs left."
Amber's voice sounded flat and emotionless, and Dean wondered if she was talking in an effort to avoid thinking. He hadn't eaten breakfast that long ago – but he was hungry again. "Yeah, I'll finish it off," he said. "Where's your dog at the moment? He's not making a very good guard dog if he's left you alone and unprotected…" I wonder, do you still feel safe around me?
"He's asleep. Animals need sleep a lot. Sleep and food. I envy them, in a way. They don't have any cares in the world…"
Dean didn't know what to say to that. He had never been too good at comforting words. So he just stayed quiet as he followed Amber into the kitchen. The plate of food was on the side, and Dean immediately started picking at it, not caring that it wasn't exactly hot anymore. He had to keep his strength up, after all…
Amber opened the fridge, and took out a bottle of red wine. She found two glasses in the cupboard above the sink, and, after taking them down, poured the wine almost to the brim in each.
Huh… Someone apparently needs alcohol to calm the nerves. I prefer beer, or whiskey, myself…
"Here." Amber offered Dean one of the glasses, her fingers brushing lightly against his, and then leaned back against the counter with the other glass. She took small sips of the wine, her face pensive.
Dean lifted his glass silently to Amber. Then, he drank some, and couldn't help but be impressed. The cool liquid slipped down his throat, feeling like the smoothest velvet. For a moment, he closed his eyes, savouring the taste. I must remember to get some of this wine when I return to my own world…
Dean opened his eyes again to find Amber watching him. The wine seemed to have gone straight to his head. He felt almost… woozy. His first thought was to wonder if Amber had somehow drugged him – but he doubted that. Maybe he was just feeling a bit strange from everything that had been happening?
Amber set her glass down on the side, and approached Dean. She twined her arms together behind his neck, and leaned in to kiss him softly.
Dean was only caught off guard for a moment. Ignoring the gut feeling that was telling him this wasn't right, he brought his arms around Amber, and deepened the kiss, making it clear to her that he was the one in control.
However, as Amber moved her hands to start trying to take off his leather jacket, Dean caught them in his, coming back to his senses. He pulled away from Amber, and pushed her, though gently, backwards.
"Dean?" Amber frowned.
"Hey, I'm all for making out," Dean replied, moving his arms back to his sides. "But I do not agree with my partner thinking about someone else while this is happening – even if it's another version of me." Despite the strangeness of it, it was true that Dean felt something connecting him to this woman. It was probably something to do with Other-Dean – but Dean objected to making out with a woman who already had feelings for someone else.
Amber opened her mouth, and then paused, glancing towards the kitchen door, as Dean heard the sound of glass smashing.