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Chapter Seven
Drifting
By Dawn Nyberg
" 'cause you have been drifting for so long. I know you don't want to come down, but somewhere below you there's people who love you, and they're waiting for you to come home, please come home …" Lyrics excerpt by Sarah McLachlan, Drifting
Dean studied the grounds of the Center as they pulled down the long driveway. The driveway was lined by manicured tress and scrubs, and had long rolling green grasses, and concrete walking paths that Dean noted were wide enough to accommodate two wheelchairs side by side if need be. "The grounds are nice," Dean commented idly.
"They focus on the human side of care here," April began. "They try to make it comfortable for the patients. There's the Center." Dean turned his eyes away from the passenger side window. He was surprised, it didn't look like a hospital at all, and there wasn't a sterile look to it. It was a long sprawling structure that had a large glass atrium at the center of the building, and looked inviting, well, as inviting as a care center could, Dean surmised. There was more landscaping and colorful plants that adorned the lobby area, and spanned the front of the center.
Twenty Minutes Later
Dean followed April through the center, "This is the therapy gymnasium," she pointed to the empty room that spanned a large area. There were mats, and equipment. "It's evening, so that's why there isn't any PT going on."
"Yeah," Dean commented as he looked over the equipment finding himself looking at every detail. Were the floors clean? The equipment new? He ran through mental questions in his head as he looked around to answer his mental questions. "What about hydrotherapy?"
"Through here," April pointed and Dean followed. She pushed the door and it opened into a vast area that contained a large indoor swimming pool. "The separate hydrotherapy tubs are this way," she commented. "This is for basic water therapy." Dean walked with her and examined the hydrotherapy room with the hot jetted tubs that helped Sam's muscle spasms at the hospital.
"So, Sam will still have this, right?"
"Yes, and regular pool therapy as well."
"What will they do for him here?" Dean asked. "I mean, I know you said he needed speech therapy and other stuff."
"He'll get it all here Dean. I promise you this is the best place for Sam to achieve his full potential in his recovery. My aunt has made sure that the programs here focus on Core Therapies."
"Core therapies? What are those?" Dean wanted to know everything.
"Well," April began. "It's a large set of rehab steps that each patient gets as they are ready for a step. The core therapies are: nursing, physical, speech, occupational, therapeutic recreation, neuropsychology, and social work." She saw Dean's eyebrow lift at the words social work. "Now, I don't mean you're going to have to deal with a social worker in your face," she smiled. "It's sort of an advocate for Sam and for your behalf should you need to apply for government funds after he is released from the center. They can find financial assistance to help should he need it." Dean nodded.
"Sammy will get all of those therapies?"
"Yes, as he can handle them. Once he starts engaging his environment there are things his PT will be able to do to stimulate him further, and try to draw him further into his environment."
"I know I all ready said thanks, April, but this is more than I could have hoped for."
"Not a problem. Don't you want to see his room?"
"What? Its' ready?"
"Well, this place is usually full, but the patient that had Sam's room was discharged yesterday, and I'm sure it's ready. I think you'll be pleased. They really try to make the rooms homey. My aunt hates decorating ala hospital décor."
"How many patients does Sam have to share his room with?"
"None," April answered bluntly. Dean looked at her with surprise.
"My aunt believes residents should have their own space, so everyone has their own private room, no sharing."
"How many residents are here?"
"Well, there's usually more traumatic brain injuries here than spinal trauma, but there are 110 patient rooms here. But, some patients are here for only a couple weeks depending on the rehab required, and some are long term residents that will have extensive rehab. I got lucky with Sam getting in because of the vacancy, and his case put him at the top of the list."
"What if there hadn't been space?"
"My aunt would have admitted him as soon as there was an opening. Worse case scenario I would have helped you find an interim facility that could have cared for him until a room opened. And, if they hadn't provided regular PT, I would have gladly donated my time."
"Thanks."
"Stop thanking me. And, anyway we don't have to think about that scenario it's not happening. Sam has a place here, and as of Friday Ivy Ridge will be home sweet home until he's ready to leave."
"This is his room?" Dean looked around surprised. He was hoping that the rooms would be a change from the hospital and they were.
"You don't like it?" April sounded concerned.
"Huh? Are you kidding its great," Dean walked around. The room wasn't huge, but it was still roomy, and it had a private full bathroom that was handicapped accessible. There was a bay window with a small sitting area. A TV mounted from the ceiling, and the bed although it had all the elements of a hospital bed the call buttons, and up and down motorized controls, and bed rails that could raise or lower, it looked like a real bed. There were soft pale green sheets on the bed, a pillow, and a soft colorful quilt expertly placed on top with a corner neatly folded down. It looked very inviting and safe. Dean glanced up to the ceiling, "a ceiling fan?"
April smiled. "Well, the A/C is more than enough, but they find that constant air flow is comforting and helps increase a patient's comfort. The fans are cleaned of dust every couple days and actually cleaned with disinfectant, so you don't have to worry about it as a health hazard. "So, you like it, huh?"
"It's great April. I couldn't have ever dreamed this place up for Sam's recovery."
"Good. I think Sam will make real progress here," she assured. "My aunt usually stays late on Wednesday nights, and I told her we were coming, so I want you to meet her, and there is some paperwork to fill out." Dean nodded. "And, as soon as the paperwork is filled out and signed, she will fax the transfer paperwork to Sam's doctor and that will be that, he'll come here on Friday."
Meanwhile, Sam's Hospital Room
John sat down at Sam's bedside; his son's eyes were closed in sleep. "Hey, Sammy," John's voice was soft. "I was hoping your brother would take a breather, so I could talk to you alone." John looked down at his hands trying to find the right words. When he looked back up Sam's eyes had opened and resumed their vacant, blank stare at nothing. John still had trouble dealing with that, but he just reminded himself that those were his baby son's eyes, and the idea he was seeing them at all was a gift.
"Hey, buddy," John practically cooed. He tried to put himself in Sam's line of sight, to make him see him, but it was like his son saw through him. "Sammy, I wish I knew what to say. I didn't want to put you in Meadowbrook, but it's the best thing for you, or at least I thought. I just knew your brother and I couldn't care for you like you needed. Please, don't think I wanted to throw you away," his voice pleaded on deaf ears. He was certain Sam wasn't hearing him, but he had to hope there was some place that still survived inside his son's head that could understand, even on the simplest level. "I shouldn't have been surprised that you listed your brother on your paperwork. I mean, he's been a part of your life every day practically for the last year." He paused. "It's not that I think your brother won't find a place for you I think he will, it's just … dammit, Sammy," John's voice was frustrated. "I know you wouldn't want Dean to spend his life looking out for you every day. I love you, son," he looked anywhere in the room, but at his son. "but, he just can't let you go, and I guess I shouldn't fault him for it, but I can't help wishing he'd see what all the doctors are saying, and know it's true. Sam I know you tried son to come back, I know you did. But, the doctor's made me see that you've done all you're going to do. I don't want to let you go either, but I know it's what you'd want for your brother and me."
And, long minutes later, there was a noise at the entrance to Sam's room that made John turn his head. "Sorry, I just needed to check his fluids, and turn him." Sam's evening nurse entered.
"It's okay." He watched her begin to turn Sam. "Need any help?" She paused looking at John.
"Sure." And, she proceeded to talk him through the procedure of turning Sam onto his side, and placing the pillow between his legs, so that it would reduce pressure point irritations from his legs laying on one another. "You did just fine," she encouraged. He offered her a mild smile and sat back down in his seat. Before she left she turned back around. "Mr. Winchester," she began. John met her eyes. "We received his transfer paperwork a short while ago and Sam's doctor is preparing the orders for Friday."
"Transfer?" John hoped that Dean had come to his senses about Meadowbrook. "Where?"
"Actually," her voice holding a hint of surprise. "Ivy Ridge Rehab Care Center, it's one of the best in the country. The paperwork was personally submitted by the Director of the center Dr. Rose Myers, and she is a top neurologist, and has signed off on the paperwork as your son's attending physician which means she's accepted his case personally."
"Rehab center, are you sure? I thought my son didn't qualify."
"Well, technically he doesn't, but Dr. Myers runs the facility and she was given access to your son's scans, records and PT care notes. And, she is known for being a bit more liberal in her evaluations of traumatic brain injury, so..."
"One of the best in the country, you say?"
"Yes. Well, if you have any questions you can speak with Sam's doctor. I mean, I've been told about the switch in power of attorney, but you're still allowed to be informed."
"Thank you." John turned his attention back to Sam that had closed his eyes once again, and smiled. "Well, Sammy it looks like your brother pulled a rabbit out of a hat on this one. He got you into a rehab. I just hope that when they decide they can't help you progress any further that it doesn't destroy your brother."
"Get out," Dean's voice grounded out in a hushed venom. John spun around. His eldest child had been very quiet in his approach. "Don't say things like to him."
"I'm not leaving until I'm ready."
"How long have you been sittin' here fillin' his head with this crap?" Dean maintained his hushed voice.
"You're setting yourself up for a big fall Dean, and for your brother to fail. And, when all is said and done you'll have no one else to blame, but yourself."
"I'm not setting Sammy up to fail, no that's what you were doing with that hole called Meadowbrook. Sam has a chance now, and I'm giving it to him. Just get out."
"He's not going to get better Dean, Christ why can't you see that." Dean would have exploded on his father, but he wouldn't in front of his little brother.
"You keep your voice down," he warned. John cast a look at his sleeping son, and lowered his voice for Sammy's sake, not because Dean ordered him to. "And, where do you get off, anyway? You're bailing out just like you always do. I'm not asking you to give up shit for Sammy. This is my life, and my brother, you want to write him off then fine … I said it before and I'll say it again … we don't need you. We do fine on our own."
"You know in a month or two when they come to the same decision about Sam that the hospital did, what are you going to do then, huh? You'll have to find another place for him when they make him leave."
"You don't have a clue about anything," Dean warned. "They believe in Sam, even after you and all these damn quacks have written him off."
"If and it's a big if, but let's say they do advance him just a fraction more, he'll never have a meaningful recovery Dean, and you're going to have to let him go."
"Screw you, you lousy bastard," he hissed under his breath. "You know even if the only advance Sam makes is to focus his eyes on something, anything or to be able to turn himself in his own bed then it's better than what you wanted for him in that crap facility."
"You're wasting your life," John yelled now. "He's gone Dean!"
Dean eyes shifted back to Sam and could see that his brother had opened his eyes once again. "It's okay, Sammy," he comforted as he ran a hand through his brother's bangs. "Dad, didn't mean to raise his voice."
"You see that's what I'm talking about. You coddle and comfort him Dean, and he doesn't even know your there. The doctors know he can hear, but they say he can't even cognitively process the words, so essentially we're just like white noise to him. You're not comforting him because Sammy isn't there to comfort." John paused and then a sentence left his mouth that even he couldn't believe he was saying, but deep down based on the medical staff prognosis for his baby son, he believed was true. "It would have been better if Sam had died. At least it would be over for him, for us." He heard a deep guttural growl growing in intensity from Dean, and then the boy exploded.
He launched himself at his father and slammed him against the far wall in Sam's room. "I'll kill you," he spat, as he proceeded to grab his father's throat. John struggled with his son, and managed to break from Dean's grip.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" John panted knowing his mistake. "It's just…"
"Get out before I kill you Dad." Dean's eyes blazed with fury. "I never want to see you again. Am I clear?"
"Dean, Sam is my son and if I want to see him I will." John kept his distance from Dean not wanting security to show up and haul either one of them out of the room and call the police.
"If you believe what you've been saying to me about Sam all ready being gone then walk away Dad, you've got nothing to visit because according to you Sammy is dead."
"Dean…" John's voice was soft. He watched his firstborn walk toward Sam.
"I'll be back in a minute Sammy." John watched Dean walk out to the nurse's station. "I want to remove my father from Sam's approved visitors."
"But…" the nurse started to say.
"Look, I have power of attorney over my brother's care and it's my decision to allow visitors in his room, and I want him removed. I don't care if you have to post security at my brother's room."
"He can't do this can he?" John asked quickly.
"I'm sorry Mr. Winchester, but he can."
"I'm his father. I have rights."
"Yes, but unfortunately, if your son here is choosing to invoke visitation limitations he can." She looked at Dean. "Are you choosing to limit information access, as well?" Dean contemplated that for a moment.
"No, I don't care if he's given status reports, but I want him away from my brother." John decided he'd have to bite his tongue in this one and actually ask Dean to reconsider.
"Dean," he purposely softened his voice. His son turned hard eyes to his father.
"What? I've said all I plan to … to you."
"Can I have one minute in private with you," he hesitated a moment. "Please," he hated sounding like he was begging.
"Fine," Dean glared at him. "I'll be back in a minute," he said to the nurse. She nodded. Dean went to their familiar corner off the busy hallway, the place they had had their last confrontation when he had punched his Dad. "What is it? You have one minute." He spat.
"I'm sorry for what I said, I was wrong. I'd rather have Sammy anyway he came rather than no Sam at all," John offered. "And, it's clear you and I both think differently about Sam's condition. I can respect that," he offered. "Look, he's going to be headed to that rehab you found for him on Friday, and I'd like to have what time there is left to visit with him. Please, don't take that away from me Dean." He paused a moment. "Don't take it away from Sammy. If he can hear and understand like you think he can then let me have these last couple days with him. It's really just another day, I mean … todays over anyway. Let me … for Sammy…" Dean stood there processing what his father had said. He wasn't stupid he knew his Dad was working an angle. He wanted to see Sam, and he was using Sam to get what he wanted.
"Look, just so we're clear, I know I'm being played. But, because as much as you don't deserve him, I think Sammy would want you here. But, I'm not kidding, you say one more negative thing in front of him, I will have your ass hauled out by security if you don't leave when I tell you to. Understand?" John gave his son a curt nod. "And, I don't want you coming to the rehab center to see him."
"I won't," John's answer was fast and blunt. And, Dean couldn't mask his surprise. "I may call on occasion to see how your brother is doing, but I won't visit. I can't stand to see him put in a place like that, and fail."
"But, you'd rather see him regress to a drawn up shell of himself locked in some fetal position like that Kyle kid they discharged the other day to an institution? Because he'd get worse, you know that right? No PT, no stimulus. Sam isn't like that Kyle kid, and I won't let him become like that, I can't."
"Dean, son … have you considered that this may be beyond your ability to help Sammy?"
"I'm not giving up on him. I won't." And, that was that. John Winchester heard the finality in his son's voice. His oldest child wasn't ever going to leave his little brother, his Sammy behind, not now, not ever. And, he blamed himself for instilling such protectiveness in Dean where Sam was concerned, but what was done was done.
"Fine," John relented. "I'd like to see your brother before I leave for the evening."
"All right," Dean's voice was frustrated.
"And, tomorrow, too?" John asked.
"Yeah, whatever, but remember what I said, no talking shit in front of Sammy."
"I won't. You'll talk to the nurse's desk?"
"Yeah."
Thursday Evening, the night before Sam's Transfer to Ivy Ridge
John sat by his son's bed while Dean kept off to the side watching and listening to everything is father said and did to Sam. They hadn't spoken much since the previous night's argument and subsequent stalemate. Dean watched his father hold his brother's hand and stroke his bangs repeatedly away from his forehead. "Sammy, tomorrow's your big day," John spoke softly, but Dean found himself leaning forward to hear every word to insure he said nothing negative. John made a point to ignore Dean's obvious attempt to hear his words. "You finally get to leave the hospital. I hear your brother has found you a real nice place to stay. I looked it up on the Net, and it looks nice Sammy. You'll like it there. Listen, Sammy," John began as he looked at the door to make sure no one was coming in to check Sam's vitals or fluid levels. "Your old Dad here has a hunt to go on. It's nothing too out of the ordinary. It's just clearing out a poltergeist in Massachusetts. I got a call from Leonard, you probably won't remember him, you only met him once and I think you must have been fifteen or sixteen, but anyway…" He paused as he saw Sam open his eyes and resume their vacant stare that he still couldn't get used to. "Well, he called and asked if I could help a family out, so I agreed. I'll head out in the morning, but that works out since you're going to your new digs tomorrow, right?" John reached up and cupped the side of his son's face in his broad hand. "Sammy, you're brother is gonna take real good care of you, okay? But, you know me, I gotta keep moving. I'll be checking in, I promise, maybe not right away, but I will. I talked to your new doctor earlier, she sounds very nice. And, it sounds like she knows her stuff. You'll be in good hands."
"You called the rehab?" Dean's voice held a hint of accusation.
"I just wanted to talk to the doctor that took your brother's case. I looked her up, she's good. And, I asked her if it would be okay that I called for updates now and again."
"And, what did she say?"
"That you'd have to give her permission since your essentially Sam's guardian now because of the power of attorney." John studied his son's intense look. "Dean, I just want to be able to get updates about Sammy that's all I'm asking. And, it may be a while before I call, anyway."
"Fine," Dean groused. "I'll make sure you're on the approved list for information." John stood up and leaned over Sam's bed and smiled at his son.
"Well, Sammy, it's late, and I guess your Dad here, should head off back to the hotel. I plan on leaving before sunrise. I'll be in touch, I'm not sure when, but I will. Love you, Sammy," he whispered and kissed his son on the top of the head, and gently rubbed his thumb across Sam's forehead. "Dean?" John stood up and looked at his eldest child.
"Yeah?" Dean's voice was impatient. John looked at Sam and motioned for Dean to step outside the room.
"You have my number. I promise I'll answer if I hear it ringing, okay? And, if you get my voice mail, please leave a message. I will call back. It's just, if anything should happen, I mean…"
"So, what you're saying is … that if Sammy gets worse, dies or gets booted from the rehab you want a call? How about when he improves?" Dean wanted to hit his father.
"Dean," John tried to quell his anger. "I just want you to know that if something were to happen, anything, I want to know."
"Yeah, I got it." Dean glared at him.
"And, if you need me," John offered. Dean cut him off with a raised hand.
"I won't," he ground out. "I got all I need in the world, and he's in that room." John shook his head.
"Well, the offer still stands."
"Whatever."
"Take care of yourself Dean, and your brother."
"I always have." John nodded. It was the truth, after all.
"Goodbye Dean."
"Dad," there was no goodbye, just simply 'dad' and a quick nod. The older man could feel the rage coming off his son. He only hoped that he and Dean could find there way back to one another. And, he hoped that Dean would someday sooner than later admit that Sammy was gone, and return to the hunt at his father's side. John turned and walked away.
Dean returned to his brother's room. "Hey, Sammy. It's just you and me little brother against the world now," Dean quipped with a smile. He ran a hand through his brother's chestnut mop of hair. "Just the way we like it, huh? You know I cleared my stuff out of dad's hotel room yesterday, so I'm your roomie for the night. And tomorrow, we finally get to blow this Popsicle stand." He paused for a moment. "Hey, you need turned don't you kiddo? It's almost about time." Dean smiled and went about turning his brother and making him comfortable.
Tomorrow, couldn't get here fast enough for Dean Winchester, he really felt true hope for Sammy when he thought about Ivy Ridge and what they can and will do for him. I'm getting you out of the dark Sammy, I promise, Dean thought to himself.
To Be Continued
Well, I know this chapter may have seemed a bit slow or not, but I have to provide some story and not all wham bam thank you ma'am. But, now the boys are off to Ivy Ridge.
Please, don't forget to review! I really do read them all, and they help to motivate and inform me. Thanks in advance for reviews, comments, and sticking with the story. Let me know what you think.