Fields Of Jasmine
Chapter 17 ~ On the Run
Dean Winchester sat on the stairs of the basement, head in his shaking hands. He had hoped that everything would go well. He had prayed that, for once, fate would spare him drama and emotional pain and all that shit that'd come along when you were about to lose someone dear.
It wasn't like he had lost his mate. He'd feel it if he had.
After Jim had ordered Ellen to get Dean out of the room, Dean had sat down on the stairs with his hunting-knife in hand, waiting for the creature to turn up. Well, he knew that it wouldn't and that it was most likely gone already, that it snuck outside somehow …
But fact was, that he needed to kill something, ideally that THING. It was its fault that Sam was behind that iron door, fading. It was its fault that Sam was in there and that he was out here and that he had to listen to Jim's muffled orders and the following, outstretched silence.
This was torture, worse than any kind of it he had ever endured.
How could someone so different from him mean so much?
Dean Winchester didn't think that he'd be able to survive without feeling the closeness of a mate. He couldn't imagine not feeling Sam's body close to his, or not seeing those dimples or the spark in those colorful eyes.
He didn't want anything but to be in there behind that door, but Jim had been right. He wasn't supposed to be in there and watch. He had already seen too much: too much of Sam's blood, too much of his pale skin, his bluish lips, too much of intestines and the jerks his body gave when they electrocuted him to get his heart back on track.
Those pictures, those memories, wouldn't leave him alone. They might haunt him for the rest of his life.
He cursed and shook his head, trying to think about something else, about revenge on the demon and that beast.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
It took another hour before the iron door creaked open and Jim appeared in the doorway, already changed out of his bloody scrubs, and remained in gray trainers and a t-shirt. The old man looked exhausted, but he held Dean's gaze, as there was no bad news to tell. There was this spark of relief on the Pastor's face that told him that Sam wasn't dead.
"Jim?" Dean asked hoarsely.
"He's okay, boy," the older man said. "For now. I know you don't want to bring him into a hospital, but he's unstable. He's lost too much blood." The pastor paused for a moment and Dean frowned. "We do have the supplies to deal with those issues, but I'm not a surgeon and my skills are limited, Dean. I'd feel better if we could get him into a hospital, where they can take proper care of him."
Dean rose to his feet and nodded, bypassing Jim Murphy on his way inside the spare iron-clad walls.
He stared with wide eyes at the prone pale figure on the examination table. His still slightly blue lips and all that blood on the floor… then his gaze landed on the screens and suddenly he felt sick. How could he have allowed himself and his friends to believe that this would be okay; that they could do something like that in a basement and not in a proper room?
How could he? This was his omega, his mate lying there, obviously fighting for his life.
How could he not see how wrong he had been?
"It was the right decision, Dean. It'd have caused a lot of problems in a hospital. And now it is time to change the plan, okay? He's stable. He'll make it through when he gets the help he needs." The pastor paused. "I know someone who knows someone. A state over, there's this hospital… a friend of mine works there…"
Dean stepped up to the table beside Sam and took his cool hand in his. He shuddered at the lack of emotions coming from the omega as he touched him. Usually, there'd be the strong odor of Jasmine flooding the room, but all he could smell were sweat and sickness and only a faint hint of Sam.
"How're we supposed to get him there? Ain't like we can put him on the load-bed of Bobby's pickup..." He chewed his bottom-lip.
The alpha thought for another moment, before he leaned down over Sam and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, since his nose and mouth were still covered by the mask. The second kiss was even more tender and he let his lips linger on the clammy skin.
"I'll be back in no time, Sammy. Promise," he whispered against the omega's skin. He then looked at Jim. "I'll get us an ambulance. I'm takin' Garth with me. We'll be back in two hours tops." And that was all he would say before he and the scrawny alpha left in his baby.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
They were back an hour and a half after they had left, bringing a fully equipped ambulance. Meanwhile, Jim and Ellen had prepared Sam for the transport, while Bobby and Jody made some space, so they would have enough room to get Sam out of the basement and the house on a gurney.
They sure hadn't figured this one out properly, though. It'd be quite a task to get the giant man up the stairs and around the corner into the corridor, which led into the hall, without jarring him too much.
The air inside the house was thick with tension when Dean entered to tell them that they were ready.
He stopped in the middle of the hall, where Bobby was waiting for them to return. Instantly, Dean's alarm bells went off as Bobby was missing Jim and Ellen.
"They're downstairs, keeping an eye on Sam," Bobby said without being asked, his voice calm and gentle. "Sam's stable so far."
The alpha only nodded before he hurried back and down into the basement, where he found Jim and Ellen standing beside the table. Ellen was holding Sam's hand, rubbing its back with her thump and smiled up at Dean warmly, when she saw him enter.
"He's okay, boy," she left the "for now" unspoken, but Dean knew. Sam was far away from being out of the woods.
"We've got the ambulance," he stated and crossed the last couple of yards between the doorway and the table.
"I've called my friend. They're getting everything ready and should be done by the time we get there," Jim said.
Ellen stepped aside and gave Sam's hand to Dean.
"We'll get the gurney," She waved at Jim to come with her.
When the two were halfway upstairs, they heard loud curses and Bobby telling Garth to be more careful and not a complete idiot.
Dean watched the oxygen-mask covering Sam's mouth and nose mist when he exhaled. He counted the seconds and watched his chest rise. The ex-hunter gazed up at the screen and watched the oxygen saturation. It was way too low and the pauses in between his breaths were way to long.
"Sammy," Dean whispered and smoothed his hair back. "I'm here. I'm waiting for you to wake up," he said softly. "I'm not goin' anywhere."
A thump and another curse was heard and a moment later, Bobby and Garth entered with the gurney in their hands. Jim was right after them and moved to Sam's side, where he started to remove the ECG and other wires. When he was done, he stepped aside and made room for Bobby and Garth, who adjusted the gurney properly.
Dean moved to the omega's head and reached under his shoulders, nodding towards Jim and Bobby that he was ready to get Sam on the gurney. Together they lifted Sam's dead weight and arranged him on the gurney, so that he looked somewhat comfortable. They then fastened the belts around Sam, so his arms and legs would stay in place when they moved him.
After thirty agonizing minutes and Dean getting to the point where he thought that they'd never get his mate out of the basement, they eventually left Bobby's house. Jody was waiting on the porch and threw a thick blanket over Sam's half-naked body before they loaded him into the ambulance.
All their breaths made little clouds in the crispy air and Dean shuddered.
It had cooled down again.
They all stood there and looked inside, watching Dean check on his omega carefully. Jim climbed in right after him and waved at Garth to get behind the wheel.
"I'll follow," Bobby said and looked over at Ellen who gave him a nod.
"Me too," she added right away.
Jody's eyebrows furrowed. "I … I can't."
"We know," Dean looked up and gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks. For everything."
Bobby shut the doors and Jim gave the scrawny alpha behind the wheel the order to get on the road.
Jim attached monitors to Sam again and put an oxygen mask on him, taking his vitals. He hung the saline drip and blood transfusion up on a hook on the ceiling of the vehicle and turned them back on.
Sam's oxygen saturation was lower now that he had been without the oxygen to support his breathing …
Dean Winchester blew out a breath and tugged an extra blanket around Sam's feet and lower belly. He shared a short glance with Jim, who fought to not look worried, but he did.
The drive to the Trinity Regional Medical Center was calm, except for the common noises while driving and the screens making little beeps. Dean stayed practically glued to the omega's side and refused to let go. Even when he changed his sitting-position, he kept one hand somewhere on Sam, not wanting Sam to feel as if he'd left his side.
After all, he had promised.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Three agonizing hours later, they arrived in Fort Dodge, Iowa, passing the city's line. Another thirteen minutes later, they pulled up behind the medical center. Jim got his phone out of his coat and called his friend, who was there another couple of minutes later.
Including a nurse and a security person.
He introduced them as Becca and James. Two of his most trustworthy staff members, as he told the small group, when they eyed the two suspiciously.
Becca wasn't one of the typical old, or really hot nurses. She seemed to be about thirty with huge round glasses and definitely a cat-woman. Besides that and those tiny feet, which stuck in baby-blue trainers, she smelled like beta.
James was a huge, muscled guy, with long dark hair and a pony tail, definitely an alpha type of person. No one in his right sense of mind would want to get into a fight with James.
After settling that Dean wouldn't go anywhere and leave Sam's side, they eventually got the gurney inside and moved the wounded omega onto the fifth floor into a single room.
Jim and his friend, a senior staff member, Dr. Brennan Cavenaugh, stayed outside the room, where the pastor filled him in on what had happened and babbled something in medical jargon about what he thought that the issues were.
When Dr. Cavenaugh came into the room, Sam was already moved into a regular bed and attached to another couple of monitors and tubes and cables. He then examined the omega thoroughly and inspected the stitched up cut on his lower abdomen. He nudged and prodded the soft and slightly swollen skin and made a satisfied sound.
"Looks like you've done a great job, Jim," he said and glanced at his friend, before he looked over at Dean, who was watching the doctor like a hawk.
"Did he wake up during the drive?"
Dean shook his head.
"Well … that's not that bad. We'll give him antibiotics and another pint of blood in a couple of hours." Cavenaugh pursed his lips. "So … a parasite?"
Everyone in the room nodded.
Becca and James stood among the hunter's and listened, as if they dealt with things like that on a regular basis. Other civilians would've freaked out by now or accused them to be bum-fuck crazy.
"It's a good thing you brought him in. Becca?" The doctor looked up and the nurse took a step forward. "Get a H2BQ ready and exchange this one with it." He gestured at the saline drip attached to Sam's arm. "When it's through, get a second one."
Dean frowned. "What's that?"
"It's a special mixture of herbs and holy water. We came up with it after we lost a hand full of hunters due infected wounds which were caused by creatures," Becca spoke up.
"It should keep away an infection that not quite natural … if you know what I mean?" The doctor smirked at the group.
Bobby's lips twitched.
Dean's forehead creased. "Will it help?"
"Hopefully. We've never had someone with a monster's parasite before … so … I can't tell for sure," Cavenaugh explained calmly. "I hope that there isn't even is an infection, but I guess we'll notice as soon as we give it to him. If there is an infection by anything the creature may left inside of him, like saliva or poison, he'll get a fever."
Dean's frown increased. "And if he does? What're you gonna do then?"
"We'll give him something for the fever," Becca said with a smile, telling him that he shouldn't worry. "We're not doing this for the first time, Mister Winchester."
Bobby huffed out a breath. "I bet you aren't. Why didn't we get Sam here in the first place?"
Jim looked back at his old friend, "Sam might not have made it."
"We couldn't have used one of our operating rooms. Someone could've noticed," Cavenaugh said. "James's gonna keep watch in front of your room. The nurses on this floor all do know about monsters so don't worry. We also tend to keep our patient's private things private. None of my staff will ask questions or judge. This is a safe place."
He looked around and frowned. "And I can't have a bunch of healthy hunters hanging around here at night. It'd cause ripples..."
Garth tugged his cap up and patted Bobby's shoulder. Bobby glared down at the scrawny alpha and Garth pulled his hand back again, guiltily.
"We'll go and find us a motel," Bobby spoke up. "I'll stop by tomorrow and bring you coffee and breakfast."
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
When Becca came back with a bag which looked a lot like a common saline drip, Dean's friends were gone and the ex-hunter sat in a chair right beside Sam's bed, stroking up and down the omega's lower arm.
The nurse didn't say anything. She exchanged the infusion and was gone again within minutes, after noting Sam's vital signs to the board at the end of his bed.
Doctor Cavenaugh stopped by an hour later to check on Sam, prodding at his lower abdomen, and informed the alpha that everything seemed to be okay before he left again.
Dean knew asking when Sam was supposed to wake up wasn't necessary. He knew that it'd take time and that Sam would wake up when he was ready. He knew that no one could possibly tell for sure when Sam would or not.
So he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on his mate.
Slowly but surely, Sam's sweet scent flooded the room, far slower and way more faint than it should have. It was the cool chill and the faintness of the jasmine odor that made Dean worry.
Some time during the night, he fell asleep at Sam's side, his head resting on his arms, burying Sam's underneath him.
For the first time in a long time, he didn't have a wet dream about Sam. Not even one of the more cuddly ones, where they'd only lie side by side in his bed in each others arms. It felt as if their bond was weakened, somehow. Usually, even when the omega was in another room and deep asleep, he'd at least feel his presence.
But now it was different. It felt as if Sam wasn't completely there …
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
When he woke, sunbeams shone into the room and warmed Dean Winchester's back. He groaned in discomfort, the muscles and fading bruises on his back protested against being moved.
He sniffed and blinked and tightened his grip on Sam's hand where his fingers were intertwined with Sam's.
"Mornin', Sammy," he murmured, though he knew there wouldn't be an answer.
When the ex-hunter managed to sit up and while he stretched, his gaze flickered up at the monitors. Sam's vitals hadn't dropped further, which may was a good sign. But he was running a slight fever now. Nothing dangerous, it looked like, though it still made Dean worry.
That and the fact that he still felt kind of alone due the lack of the omega's presence.
Dean rose from the chair and winced, bracing himself against the mattress to help himself get into an upright position. He reached for the front pocket of his jeans and huffed out a breath, surprised that he hadn't forgotten to pocket his pills.
He glanced at the clock above the door of the room and thought for a moment, before he looked down at Sam. Dean decided that he wouldn't leave Sam's side.
Bobby had said that he'd drop by with coffee and breakfast, anyway, so he'd take the Vicodin a bit later and not risk missing Sam's awakening.
"Looks like you're doin' better, sweetheart." He smiled a bit. Sam truly looked better. He had more color in his face and there was this slight blush, due the fever, painting his cheeks. Dean leaned in and smoothed the omega's hair back.
"You gotta wake up, you know. I can't have you goin' all Rapunzel on me." He leaned further down and suppressed a wince. The muscles in his calf and thigh protested, and his hip gave an angry pop at the movement. The alpha kissed Sam's forehead and brushed over his cheek.
After a while of leaning over the bed and whispering sweet nothings into the younger man's ear, he decided that he couldn't wait any longer for Bobby to stop by and get him breakfast, before he'd take his pills.
He got water from the bathroom and popped two of his Vicodin pill. He then walked up and down the room and stretched his right leg, hip and his sore back until some of the stiffness disappeared.
Shortly before eight thirty, Bobby came as promised. With him was Ellen, who brought Sam's blanket, the blanket that the omega was familiar with, the one that had been in his bedroom …
Ellen handed it to Dean, who took it with a grateful nod from her. Of course it was only a blanket after all, but it was also the one that he had held dear since the very day he had moved into Bobby's house for the first time after he had gotten away from the nest.
Sam somehow seemed to love that old but cozy thing. He had taken it with him when he moved to Columbus and it had been with him when he came back to Sioux Falls and moved into Dean's house.
It was all Sam's, so maybe it'd do Sam some good when he'd wake up in this foreign place with that stinging smell of antiseptic fluid and sterile sheets. It'd be something more familiar, carrying the scent of their home.
"How's he doing?" Bobby asked, while he watched Dean drape the blanket on top of Sam's comforter.
"He's running a slight fever. His vitals are better than yesterday though," Dean answered softly. He traced with his finger over Sam's cheek. "Sam hasn't woken up yet."
Bobby came up beside Dean and patted his shoulder. "Yeah. He looks better, son." He tried to smile but failed miserably at the attempt.
He looked over at Bobby and gave him a weak smile. "I can't feel him."
The grizzled hunter's bushy eyebrows pulled together.
"At least, not the way I'm supposed to," Dean added pensively. "Was it the same with Karen?"
"It was different. Karen … There wasn't anything left in her body. It was only instincts and the urge to eat humans. It wasn't her anymore. When I came home ... I didn't feel her fade. She was just … gone." Bobby rarely spoke about her. He didn't speak about the day he came home to find his wife and beloved mate turned into a zombie.
Until now.
Dean smiled at him warmly, but looked serious again the very next moment. "I don't think it feels like fading … it's like … like he's here but also not."
Bobby shook his head. "You said it yourself. He's going to pull through. Karen once had the flu and when she got this really high fever and I had to take her to the hospital … I felt our bond weaken, and I thought she was going to die. I really thought she'd die. But she didn't. It felt like she was calling out to me from the other side of the shore … But she came back."
Dean nodded as he looked down at Sam with this longing look once more, his soul calling out to his mate.
"Go eat. You're no use to Sam when he wakes up and finds you passed out beside him." Bobby patted his shoulder once more. "And then we'll see if we can't get a second bed in here, since I bet that you won't leave him for just a moment." He smiled and winked at Dean.
Dean gave him the "you know me" look and took the paper bag from his old friend. The alpha moved around the bed and sat down in his chair, where he put the bag in his lap and took out a paper cup, which smelled a lot like coffee and a box.
Dean hummed at the delicious smell and took his first sip. There was nothing like coffee from a real coffee shop and not from a hospital's cafeteria.
In the box were doughnuts, one with chocolate chips, and one with Raspberry filling. He ate it all up and emptied the coffee.
Around ten, Becca appeared and took Sam's vitals, then checked on his temperature and didn't look pleased at all.
It had increased since the morning, though it refused to rise higher than 102.3.
The first thing after starting her shift had been to take Samuel Harvelle's vitals and check on his temperature. She had snuck into the room with the first rays of sunlight and had checked on her patient, carefully and silent, as to not wake the alpha.
"We should really get you a bed," she said with a mischievous smile. "That half-chair/half-bed thing didn't look very comfortable." She paused to scribble Sam's vitals onto the board and then looked up again. "I'll give him another drip with H2BQ and antibiotics in about an hour."
Dean gave her a hesitant nod. "And for his fever?"
"Nothing for the moment. If it increases more and gets higher than 102.5, I'll get him something," she answered calmly.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
They took his Sam to a CT-scan and a couple of other tests, which couldn't be taken in the room. They would get a better look at what was going on, or so Doctor Cavenaugh had told Dean. The tests lasted for about three hours, in which Dean was pacing the corridor uneasily, worried that, the longer it took, something was wrong and that, maybe, they had to take Sam into surgery again.
Without telling him.
Though, it wasn't like that.
Sam was brought back into his room and got settled and shortly after that, Doctor Cavenaugh was back, too, and explained what kind of tests they put him through. It was actually a lot of medical stuff, which Dean didn't quite understand.
When it came to Sam's current state and the results of the tests, Dean's ears perked up.
"Jim told me that Sam's special in a lot of ways…" he started and then sighed, seemingly not quite comfortable.
Dean only nodded, prompting the doctor to continue. Any questions he had could be asked later on too.
"Jim got me the medical reports of the other victims, so I could have a better look at the whole situation. And … I can't say a whole lot about those who got … mauled. But I can tell that Sam's been pregnant."
Dean wanted to speak up, but Cavenaugh stopped him with a raised hand. "I'm getting there. I've run some blood tests and yes. He's been pregnant, like the other three that the coroners had run special tests on. This is … important, because it means that there could be a side effect to deal with. It's a difference with carrying a parasite. And yes I know it's not as if it's a human being, a baby. It means that Sam's hormones are working in overdrive. It's a psychological thing to deal with. He's supposed to have a baby, but there's none. For him it may feel like he's lost his baby. That's what I wanted to say."
Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You mean tell me, that … that he's going to grieve about that thing?" It sounded absurd.
The doctor shook his head. "It depends on how Sam felt about being pregnant. I'm just saying that it's like in any other pregnancy where the mother – I'm going to say mother – looses her baby. It's hard for them to cope."
"But it's not even human," Dean barked out. What the hell? "I've been talking with him about it; he understood."
The doctor quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah? Did he really understand?"
The ex-hunter blew out a slow breath as he eyed the other man wearily.
"I'm not saying that he gets shit-crazy or that he's going to loose his mind over it. It could be – due his hormones and the way he should be supposed to feel about a baby, that he might become depressive. I want you to know that it will pass." Doctor Cavenaugh paused again. He seemed to think for a long moment before he continued. "There might be other changes, too, which I will explain to Samuel when he's coherent enough to understand. Jim had to remove his uterus with the parasite."
Dean eyed him shocked and wide-eyed. "What? You tellin' me that … He … but ..."
"Intersex comes in a lot of ways, Dean. He had a uterus and that he could get pregnant doesn't mean that he would have been able to have a baby in a normal way though. His pelvis's too narrow and his … well … lets just say it wouldn't have worked."
Dean stood there, not knowing what to say, not sure if he'd be able to listen to any more of what the doctor had to tell him. "But he's okay, right? He'll get through this?"
That was the most important part, anyway. Everything else would be processed in time.
Doctor Cavenaugh nodded. "I am positive about that." He cleared his throat. "So … I have to go and check on some other patients. If you have any questions … I'll stop by tonight and check on Sam."
The ex-hunter only nodded and swallowed thickly, looking back down at Sam, still unconscious, on the bed.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
That night, Dean had a hospital bed in the same room to sleep in. It still felt, due to the yard in between his and Sam's beds, as if his mate was too far away. But he knew it was necessary that they had to have room around Sam's bed in case they'd need it.
Becca gave the omega something against the fever before she went home, as it had increased further.
He felt Sam's presence stronger at some points now, and from time to time it would feel as if it was barely there. Dean had his arm stretched out over the distance, but he could not reach Sam. Dean decided that the staff would still have enough room to work if he pushed the bed over another foot.
When that was done, he was able to reach the omega's lower arm and have his hand rest over it, feeling the warmth of the younger man against his cool palm.
Dean was about to drift off when he thought he felt something move. His fingers twitched at the sensation and his forehead furrowed in confusion.
It was then that he felt it, so intensive and strong, a call, a poke at his mind, telling him to wake the fuck up and look over to the other bed.
Dean Winchester's eyes snapped open and for a long moment he didn't dare to look over at the other bed. When he did, however, a broad grin formed on his lips and lit up his eyes.
… to be continued
THANK YOU for betaing, 2cool4NOschool ;)
It means a lot to me ^^
THANK YOU to those who reviewed. I'm kinda busy with school (if you can call it school anyway when you're 29). But I'm hanging in there. So I'm really sorry for may forgetting to answer ;)
SOON ... "Whispers In The Dark", Chapter 18
Sam had managed to get the urin-bag loose and held it in his left hand, while he held onto the pole with his right one in an iron grip.
Tiny pearls of sweat were already forming on his skin when he slid from the bed and landed tentatively on his huge feet, willing them to obey.
A surprised smile formed on the omega's lips when he felt the cool floor against his soles. It felt weird, but on the other hand good, to feel his own weight again. Of being able to stand there.
Well, half the way into his mission, Samuel Harvelle wasn't so sure anymore if this had been a very good idea. The pressing matter of why he had gotten up in the first place increased and he already started to feel shaky and not so well.
Maybe he should've called a nurse to help him. Or he should've tried to wait for Dean to come back.
