A/N - Sorry for the long wait again guys. This chapter ended up being longer than expected so I've split it into two parts to make it easier to read. Any mistakes are as always my own.
#SPN#
Chapter 16: Part 1
BANG!
Startled, Dean snatches his arm from around Sam, cursing as the impala swerves from the immediate release of air pressure in the rear driver side tire.
Thankfully, the experience of hours upon hours spent in this car and several prior blowouts, has given Dean ample knowledge and he presses down slightly on the accelerator rather than easing up. It allows him to pull the Impala back under control fairly quickly without veering out of lane or causing a freaking pileup.
Looking for an area to safely pull over, he curses again. The last thing they needed was a fucking blowout mere minutes away from the clinic he's taking Sammy. Spotting a hard shoulder just ahead, Dean pulls off and cuts the engine.
And with the rumble of the engine no longer beneath him, Sam stirs against Dean, blinking open his eyes, sucking on his pacifier to moisten his dry mouth. "S'matter?"
"Blowout," Dean supplies, glancing in his side mirror to try and catch a glimpse of the damage without allowing any of the cold in just yet, but he gives up and looks back to Sam. "Stay here, Sammy."
Ordinarily, he'd have Sam out of the car and waiting by the verge, but the kid is cold enough as it is. And anything wanting to hit the Impala will have to hit Dean first. His Baby will protect his boy.
Sam doesn't put up a fight, easing himself away from Dean, though his fingers still grip Dean's coat.
"I won't be long, bud. It's just a tire change. Piece of cake," Dean assures.
The expression on Sam's face speaks volumes as to just how much he doesn't want to let Dean go right now. But then he swallows and nods, fingers slowly releasing their hold and Dean reaches out, tucking the blanket around him better while being mindful of the kid's broken arm. With that done, Dean gets out, quick to close his door so only little heat escapes.
He first assesses the busted tire, sighing at the large tear. He retrieves the spare, the jack and his tools and is halfway through unfastening the nuts when the driver door creaks and Sam slowly steps out, sans pacifier.
"Get your butt back in the car, Sam," Dean calls out over the roar of passing traffic behind them.
"I gotta stretch," Sam replies, leaning against the car to help him stay upright as his head swims.
"Stretch across the seat then," Dean responds. "It's easily accomplished, kid."
Sam shivers in the cold, wondering if getting out of the car had been such a great idea after all. "I c-can help."
The offer probably would have held more weight if his teeth weren't chattering and his body wasn't shivering and swaying with cold.
"Sammy, I got this, okay. Get back in the car."
"You never let me help with her," Sammy grumbles, blinking rapidly as the slight side to side swaying of his body becomes more pronounced.
"Sam?"
Sam blinks, trying to get the world to stop spinning too freaking quickly. "De …"
Dean is already up and running for his kid, even as Sam's eyes roll up into his head. The kid goes down like a sack of potatoes and Dean only just manages to stop him from bouncing that not so hard head off the road. A horn honks, which is so fucking not helpful right now when the dick driver just sails on by without even the slightest offer of assistance.
"Sam!? Sammy!" Dean gives his kid's cheek a pat, trying to rouse him. When Sam doesn't stir, Dean presses two fingers to Sam's neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. "Shit, okay." Dean shifts, trying to get into a better position to hold Sam up so he can dig out his phone from his pocket.
He now desperately needs to get Sammy to the clinic, but it means leaving Sammy alone in the car in his unconscious state while he hurries to fix the tire, a procedure that will be hampered with Dean's constant need to check on his brother. There's no way he can fix the tire while keeping hold of Sammy. Cas is too far out to get there quickly. Dean doesn't remember the fucking number for the clinic and nor, apparently, does he have it in his contacts.
Which is just so fucking stupid.
He hurriedly scrolls through his list, hoping a name will jump out at him. Idiot, he curses himself. Rae. You have Rae's number you fucking idiot.
About to press down to make the call once finding the contact, he drops the phone to lash out and grab the hand descending towards his unconscious baby brother, hard eyes rising to glare at whoever the fuck had tried to even dare touch his kid.
Wide honey-brown eyes stare back at him. "Hey, man," the guy's voice is calm despite Dean trying to crush his hand. "I'm not gonna hurt him. I'm a nurse. Names Stefan. Let me help."
Dean doesn't trust easily, and he trusts even less when it comes to the safety of the kid in his arms, but something in those eyes speaks genuine to him. This is just a guy wanting to help and do what he is trained to do.
Dean releases his hold.
"Thank you," Stefan murmurs, setting his hands to check over Sam. "What happened here? What's his name?"
"Sam," Dean supplies and fires out a brief abbreviated explanation. He's aware of the blonde-haired woman hovering over the guy's shoulder, phone at her ear and relaying medical details Stefan snaps out to her. "Who's she talking to?" Dean demands, drawing Sammy closer to him.
"One of the doctor's at the medical clinic a few blocks away. Something tells me you were already heading that way."
"That obvious, huh? You work there?"
"Sure do. What's your name?"
"Dean."
"Alright, Dean, can you lift Sam? I want to get him to the clinic and the fastest way is if Lily …" Stefan gestures to the woman behind him, "… takes him in."
"He ain't going anywhere without me," Dean states, getting a good and protective grip under Sam's knees and back while pushing himself to his feet.
"Didn't think he would be," Stefan offers a small smile. "You go on with him." The guy snags the Impala's keys from Dean's finger. "I'll fix your car up and follow to the clinic," he states opening the back door of his SUV. "She'll be waiting for you in the parking lot good as new."
Dean nods, not really caring about his car in that moment and slides into the back of the SUV with Sam. Stefan strips out of his jacket and lays it over Sam before closing the door. He speaks quietly to the woman – Lily - before she climbs into the driver seat of the SUV and they're heading out.
Dean takes little notice of the scenery passing by, just continues to hold his kid, tapping his fingers against Sam's cheek to try and wake him.
It isn't long before Lily pulls the SUV up outside the clinic, just to the side of a lone ambulance bay and opens the backdoor. There is a waiting gurney, with several doctors and nurses already waiting, Lily firing off what she knows upon being asked, as Dean sets Sam down.
He hurries along after his brother, refusing to leave Sam's side until he is stopped at a pair of swing doors, two nurses telling him he can go no further. He glowers at them, about to tell them exactly where they can shove their fucking rules when the doors open again and a petite woman steps out.
"Dean, my nurses haven't done anything to ignite your wrath, so please calm down."
"Rae, you gotta … Is Sam okay?"
"That's what we're going to establish. And I'll allow you to stay right out here if you let us work, Dean. You'll be with Sam again soon enough, I promise. Okay?"
Though he doesn't like it, Dean nods, knowing a familiar face and old friend will be working on his brother. Rae nods and heads back into the room holding his kid, the two nurses following her, only after both shoot him firm looks, obviously hoping those looks alone will be enough to keep him out here.
Dean scrubs shaky hands over his hair. He digs his hand back into his jeans pocket and pulls out the phone he had thankfully remembered to pick up again. Pressing number two of his smart contacts, Dean jams the phone against his ear.
"Tell me you haven't used any powers in the past forty-five minutes," Dean hisses the demand the second his call is answered, gaze fixed firmly on his brother through the small round window in one of the doors. "You sure? You've had complete control? … Cause Sam fucking collapsed, Cas, that's why. What? No, I didn't either… We're at the clinic now. I'll …" He cuts himself off when Sammy jolts awake with a panicked cry of Dean's name, lashing out to clamp fingers around the shoulder of a nurse who had tried to stick a needle in his arm.
As he barges his way through the double doors, Dean's pretty sure his kid was aiming for the guy's neck.
#
Trying to calm Sam down while uncurling his fingers enough from Greg's shoulder to release the nurse, Rae spots Dean barrelling through the doors. And having been a witness to Dean Winchester unapologetically body check medical professionals out of his way to reach a calling and scared little brother, she knows the potential risk of injury to her team has suddenly increased tenfold.
Which is why she quickly barks, "back away!" Her well-trained team immediately jumping backwards away from the bed, clearing a path for Dean to get to his frightened brother without further injury to others.
"Sam. Sammy. Hey, you're safe. It's me. I'm here. I'm right here, Sammy," Dean croons, fingers running through Sam's hair as he leans over the kid enough to gain his attention.
Sam's harried breathing slows, his wandering eyes finally slowing to settle on Dean. He rushes up and grips hold of his brother, and Dean stops himself from tumbling backwards at the force. Unfortunately Sam's rushed movement has a detrimental effect and the kid goes limp in Dean's arms.
Panic slices inwardly through Dean. Outwardly, he's calm, closing his eyes and just waiting for that feeling of Sammy's lungs working beneath the hand he has on his little boy's back. Relief overshadowing the panic when he feels it within only a fraction of a second, along with the puffs of breath against his neck.
Rae steps forward, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. He doesn't turn to her or stop comforting his brother and honestly, she hadn't expected him to. "He's out again, Dean," she tells him quietly, unnecessarily as she finds out.
"Yeah, I know."
"You should lay him back down."
Dean snorts. "No. Whatever you intended to do with that needle, you can do while he's like this."
"Alright, Dean," Rae acknowledges that Dean means business. There will be no moving him.
And seeing Greg unharmed but looking unsure as to how to proceed with Sam still in Dean's arms, Rae grabs the tourniquet from Greg and ties it off around Sam's upper right arm. She then gestures Greg forward to take the blood work they need.
This time, Greg is able to get the needle in and withdraw the blood without a hitch. Which isn't surprising. Sam associates Dean with safety and protection when he's hurt. Even in his once again unconscious state he clearly knows his brother has him.
Now they just need to find out what's going on.
#SPN#
Dean drops down into a chair, resting his elbows on his knees and scrubs a hand over his face. He allows the calm visage of his outward appearance to fall now that he is alone in this new room, save for his still unconscious baby brother residing in the bed beside him. The boy buried under several blankets to warm him up, fluids flowing down the thin tubing into an intravenous cannula in the crook of Sam's right arm, and still looking too pale for Dean's liking.
He had been assured that Sam should be fine and will wake again soon, but it doesn't help. Nothing will until he sees his little brother's hazel eyes staring back at him. Only then will this ball of fear in Dean's chest slowly begin to deflate and dissipate.
And he should be used to this by now, shouldn't he? Sammy deciding he hasn't given his big brother enough of a scare for one day he has to go and collapse on him, twice.
The little attention seeker.
Dean sweeps his thumb over the back of Sammy's right hand, the hand Dean is holding through the bed's raised safety rail. "I'm right here, Sammy. You gonna open your eyes for big brother?"
Sammy doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't move a muscle. And Dean hates it. It is just too reminiscent of the many other times Sam has been too still like this. Sammy shouldn't be still. Even when he's researching and doesn't move his butt off a chair for hours, there is always a twitch of fingers, legs shaking up and down, pens or pencils twirled around fingers.
Sammy is never just still.
Until unconsciousness takes him.
And apparently all because of dehydration and inner ear abrasions.
The preliminary cause of Sammy's latest collapses and Dean's most recent near heart attack. He had been fucking terrified this was it, the burnout they had been fearing. Cas had assured Dean he had used no powers. Dean knows he himself has used none. But they still don't know if the two of them just having these powers inside of them is having a detrimental effect on Sam's system.
So how can they know it isn't related? Dehydration and ear abrasions masking what it truly could be and Dean fucking prays and hopes it isn't.
He snaps his head around to the door as it is pushed open, the guy who had helped them out on the side of the road stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He's tall, probably just shy of Dean's height, he now realises on getting a proper look at the guy. Unblemished dark skin making it difficult to set an age to him, but Dean would guess at late twenties to early thirties. His hair is dark brown and he clearly works out from the look of his muscular arms.
"Hey, Dean, how's he doing?" Stefan questions, voice deep with a touch of smoke-gravel.
"They said he'll wake soon, so …" Dean shrugs one shoulder, unsure, and just hoping he hasn't been told a pack of lies.
"It's a little unusual for Sam not to have woken after a few seconds with a collapse like this," Stefan explains, Dean already aware of it but letting the guy go on anyway. "But, honestly, you can never group people under one norm of what should happen. It doesn't make for good medical practise in my opinion."
"Yeah, kid's never been normal," Dean replies, an affectionate teasing lilt to his words.
Stefan smiles lightly. "He'll wake when he's good and ready. Oh, here," he digs into his pocket, withdrawing the keys to the Impala and holding them out to Dean. "She's in Zone A of the parking lot and she is one hell of a beauty. Drives like a dream."
"She sure does," Dean agrees pocketing his keys. "Thanks for doing that, man. And for your help out there."
"You're more than welcome, Dean. Now for the hard part." Dean raises an eyebrow at the other man. "I need to remove the IV cannula in Sam's arm and replace it with a double so he only has the one. Is he gonna try and strangle me if he wakes up during it?"
"He might," Dean offers apologetically. "But I'll be right here to prevent it. What else are you giving him?"
"Acetaminophen."
"Well that's gonna make him even more tired."
Stefan nods. "More than likely. But it'll hopefully help to lower his slightly raised temperature. Mind if I get you to move round to Sam's left side? I need access to his right hand."
Dean stands and does as asked, moving around the bed until he stands near Sam's head so he can brush back the damp hair from the kid's face. He leaves his hand there, just resting it lightly on Sammy's forehead, wanting Sam to know he's there while he has his cannula inserted. Stupid, considering, but Dean needs to offer the comfort he would if Sammy was awake.
"He doesn't like needles," Dean says, speaking more to himself than Stefan.
"It's surprising just how common that phobia actually is," Stefan responds anyway, tightening a tourniquet around Sam's lower right arm and taking in the raised blue-green veins on the back of Sam's hand.
Seeing the tourniquet reminds Dean of the charms in his pocket. The ones Bobby had given to them years ago before they got the tattoos, and Dean had only a few hours ago removed from Sam's jacket pocket on the way to Portland from the library. Unfortunately tying them around Sam's wrists is now out, but the kid has two skinny ankles Dean can work with.
And as soon as Stefan has inserted and placed the cannula successfully, Dean brushes his hand over Sam's hair once more before moving down to the end of the bed. He pulls up the blankets covering Sam's naked body, just enough to reveal his bare ankles, his wet clothing having been stripped off of him on his admittance. His jeans and boots in a bag by the chair Dean was occupying, while the kid's outer-shirt and tee now reside in the trash after being cut from Sam. Ruined clothing pretty par for the course in their line of work.
"You got any spare clothing here at all?" Dean's hoping for some pants he can put on Sammy's bottom half at least. The arm in the sling prevents an upper covering, unless they have the gowns with the popper fastenings around the arms.
"I'll get him some scrubs as soon as I'm done here," Stefan replies, pushing a saline flush through the line.
"Thanks," Dean responds, grateful, as he untangles one of the thin leather bands from the other, before tying it off around Sam's right ankle. "Lucky charms," he announces quietly upon feeling Stefan's gaze as he ties off the second protection charm, this time around Sam's left ankle. "You have a bandage or something you can put around that?" Dean questions with a nod of his head to the cannula in the back of Sammy's hand.
"I'm about to dress it," Stefan responds, laying down a dressing over the cannula already being held in place at the wings by two narrow strips of tape. Stefan peels away the cream edges, leaving behind the transparent dressing. "All done."
"Yeah, I mean more than that. Cause trust me when I say Sam will wake up and try rip that thing out."
Stefan frowns as he disconnects the tubing feeding fluids into Sam from the cannula he's about to remove and connects it to one of the two capped ends of the new cannula. "We don't like to put an actual bandage around it unless it's being splinted. But if Sam does try to take it out when he wakes up, just let me know and we'll bandage it then. That sound fair?"
No, Dean silently comments, having had enough experience of how Sam is when it comes to IV's sticking in him. The kid never quite getting that if he takes it out, the nurses only have to put one back in again. Outwardly, he nods. "Fair enough."
Dropping the removed cannula in the sharps tub, Stefan strips out of his gloves and picks up an ear thermometer and is about to snap a cover on it when he looks to Dean. "If I do this, is the same thing I hear happened in the emergency room going to happen this time?"
"Yep," Dean states, knowing if they continue with trying to check Sam's temperature conventionally they will be losing a good few thermometers. Just like the one they already lost earlier.
"Right." Stefan sets the ear thermometer back into the tray and picks up another, stripping the packaging from it before pulling on a fresh set of royal blue gloves. "Will you help me roll Sam onto his right side?"
Despite being surprised by the request, Dean doesn't outwardly show it. He is more than aware most clinics and hospitals frown upon patient's families assisting in areas such as this, but Dean has his suspicions Sam's doctor had words with her staff.
Together, he and Stefan situate Sam comfortably onto his right side, a pillow beneath his broken arm to keep it in place. Stefan is quick and efficient, and within a minute he has a new temperature reading and Sammy is once again lying on his back and covered over.
"That won't be so easy when he's awake," Dean comments.
"I don't doubt it. Do you know why it happens?"
"His body's electrical current runs faster than others. Least that's what the docs figured when Sam was younger."
"Does he have any other problems around technology?" Stefan questions with a glance to the intravenous pump now working to feed the acetaminophen and fluids steadily into Sam.
"Nah. Though, now that I think about it, his watches and phones tend not to last too long." But then again, the kid gets thrown into walls and bookcases and numerous other shit too much as well.
"Items generally on his person. Not surprising. Dr Aster should be in shortly to update you."
"Thanks, man."
Stefan takes his tray with the sharps tub and left-over rubbish and leaves, returning a few minutes later with the promised scrubs. Dean asks what underwear might be available, only to decline the options given. Sammy will just have to go commando this once.
"You gonna be needing this room at some point?"
"Not unless we're desperate. We have five others that will soon be available for the next patients. Unless you'd prefer Sam was transferred …"
"No," Dean quickly refuses. "This is fine. Thanks."
Stefan nods and leaves once again, but not before reminding Dean to press the call button if needed.
Dean refrains from mentioning that this isn't their first rodeo.
#SPN#
Sensing Sammy stirring before he hears the rustle of blankets, Dean quickly sets his new notebook, pen and borrowed iPad (all of which Stefan had got and lent him) on a shelf beside him as he rises. Standing on the right side of Sammy's bed, his name falling from slightly parched lips, Dean sets his hand on his kid's chest and lightly rubs his sternum without jarring the kid's broken arm.
"Hey, Sammy," he calls as he leans down, enough to be both quiet and close, but not too close that it'll make Sammy jump when he opens his eyes. "I'm right here. Open your eyes for me, kiddo."
"De'n," is barely whispered again, Sammy fidgeting as he drags his way up from unconsciousness.
"Right here, Sammy. C'mon, open those peepers for me." Sam manages to open his eyes to half-mast before they close again. "That's it, kiddo. Nearly there. One more time."
Sam's eyes open with a struggle, and while not fully open yet, Dean can still see hazel. "De'n," this time his name is expressed with recognition rather than searching.
Dean smiles. "Hey, Sammy."
Sam blinks several times to clear the fog, his eyes remaining open a little more each time. "W't 'append? Wh're we?"
"We'll get to that once you wake up a little more, kiddo. Just know you're safe, Sammy."
"W'th you. 'M'safe,"
Still half asleep and probably unaware of what he's even saying, the kid still manages to wrench Dean's heart. He's done his best his whole life to keep his little brother safe but it hasn't always been the case. And more recently, Dean was the thing his brother had to fear. To hear that Sammy still feels safety in him, it helps to ease some of that guilt and self-recrimination.
If only a little.
"I'm not going anywhere, kiddo."
A smile flitters over Sammy's lips before his eyes fully open. They are glazed from the acetaminophen the boy is being given, along with the fluids. Something Sam just now notices is flowing down the tubes into the intravenous cannula in the back of his hand. And Dean has to grab his wrist, pulling the hand away from the kid's mouth when Sam immediately goes for the transparent dressing with his teeth to get at the cannula beneath.
"Sammy, stop. There's no needle in there. Just tubing."
"Still don't wannit."
"Well tough." Sammy shrinks back slightly, staring up at Dean with wide hurt eyes and Dean lets out a sigh. That came out harsher than he had intended. "You're dehydrated, Sammy."
"Am not. Got a broke arm."
"Well on top of your broken arm, you have abrasions in your ears, and you are dehydrated. You need the fluids they're giving you."
"Sure. I'll have fluids. In a cuppy," Sam declares, trying to pull his hand back towards his mouth.
Once more, Dean pulls it away. "Stop," he says sternly. Sam glares at him mutinously, still trying to pull his arm free from Dean's hold. "Sam."
"I see we should have done as you said, Dean," Stefan says, witnessing Sam's attempt to get at his cannula as he enters the room, pulling a wrapped bandage from a pocket in his uniform. "Hey, Sam," he gives the kid a white-toothed smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm Stefan. Your nurse."
"Hi," Sammy mumbles, shyness taking him enough to still his attempt to get at his cannula. His eyes watch Stefan's every move.
Dean shifts over, closer to the head of the bed to allow Stefan access to Sam's hand, without releasing his kid's wrist just yet.
Stefan doesn't do anything, just leans his arms on the guard. "Sam, I'm just going to wrap a bandage around your cannula, okay. Think you can be a good boy and leave it alone so I don't have to replace it? Because I don't want to have to do that. And your brother doesn't want you to have to have another cannula put in either. Think you can do that, bud?"
Sam turns wide eyes up to Dean, face slightly flushed. "'Nother cannula?"
Dean leans down, brushing hair out of Sam's eyes. "If you pull this one out, Sammy, then yeah."
"I'll leave it alone," Sam quick-fire's out, before turning shy eyes to Stefan.
Stefan gives another pleased toothed smile and praises, "Attaboy." Tearing the packaging from the bandage, he makes quick work of winding it around Sam's hand and wrist before clipping it off (conveniently in an area Sam's teeth won't be able to reach). "There we go. All done."
"Thanks, man," Dean gives his gratitude.
"You're welcome. Press the call button if you need anything else before I return to take your vitals, Sam."
"'Kay," Sam murmurs.
Dean chuckles lightly when Sam shifts his head across the pillow so he can rub his right eye against Dean's knuckles. "You wanna go back to sleep, Sammy?" he questions when the kid is done. "It might be a while before your X-ray."
Sam shakes his head, his eyes tracking around the room, finding the toys and soft animals resting on shelves, the rocking chair beside the bed. The sea-life murals on the walls. And the safety rails either side of his bed that are slightly taller and thicker than those belonging to an adult hospital bed.
"Is this… is this a pediatric room?"
"Looks to be," Dean states, nonchalantly.
"Why am I in a peds room, Dean?"
"It was the only one available after you collapsed," Dean supplies, unimpressed with Sam's accusatory tone.
Because while Dean may have decided to keep Sammy in this room when Stefan asked if he wanted a transfer, he wasn't the one who originally brought Sam in here. That was all Rae's doing.
Sam flushes slightly. "Oh."
"Mmm-hmm." Sam raises his hand to the safety rail closest to Dean and gives it a small shake. "They're staying up, Sammy."
"I don't need them."
"Says the kid whose fallen outta bed over a dozen times lately. They stay. Gonna be getting you some anyway, so you should get used to 'em, Sammy."
"What? No, Dean, we don't need to pay out that kinda expense when it's not necessary."
"Pretty sure we agreed I deal with our finances, Sammy, and a couple safety rails for your bed aren't gonna break the bank. And sorry to burst your bubble, buddy, but they are necessary."
"Next you'll be saying I need training wheels for the bike I don't even ride."
"Probably wouldn't be a bad idea."
"Shut up," Sam huffs, but there's a small smile at the corners of his lips.
Dean picks up the borrowed iPad, inputs a few things and then says, "I was thinking of these, actually," before turning the screen around to face his little brother.
"You get them in that colour I'll paint your car to match."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Watch me."
"Fine. No pink safety rails for the princess."
"Shut up, Jerk," Sam grumbles, but he's chuckling while he says it.
"Bitch," Dean smirks. It disappears as Sam's face twists and he shifts on the bed. "Sammy? You in pain?"
Sam shakes his head. "I need to go potty. Without any suggestion of a bedpan or bottle."
Dean offers a grin. "Then you'll be happy to know this room has a private bathroom."
"It does?"
"Yep. Just through that door," Dean points to the door standing half-closed and at an angle in the central wall of three that jut out into the room to create said bathroom. "Just give me a sec."
Dean reaches over to the wall behind Sam's bed and first pulls the plug from the outlet halfway down the wall. He then drapes the lead over the infusion pump, which beeps and will continue to beep all the while it's on battery power. He next lowers the safety rail closest to him and picks up his kid.
"I can walk," Sammy grumbles.
"I'm not risking you collapsing again, kiddo. So just deal with it."
With Sammy settled on his hip, the infusion tubing resting over Dean's shoulder so it doesn't get caught up, Dean grasps the pole with the infusion pump and wheels it across the floor and into the bathroom. He first settles Sammy on the toilet seat, before pulling down the scrubs.
He steps back and Sam opens his mouth. "Oh no. Don't even think about asking me to leave this room. Cause it ain't happening."
"Wasn't going to," Sam mumbles as his bladder starts to empty, knowing how freaked out Dean must have been and clearly still is from his earlier collapse. "Have I gotta stay here long, De?"
"Think that'll depend on the result of your X-ray when they get around to doing it."
"I hate hospitals."
"You and me both, baby."
"When's Cas getting here?"
"Should be soon. He's gonna make a pit stop somewhere to get you some clothes."
"These are okay," Sam says, picking at the waistband of the scrubs.
"Warmer clothes. Plus you don't have anything clean until I get to a laundromat. Some fresh pj's won't hurt."
"Pj's?"
"Mmm-hmm," Dean hums. "They'll be easier for him to find than sweats, tee-shirt, sweater, along with underwear and socks."
"Oh, yeah," Sam giggles, "his shopping trip didn't go so great last time."
"He didn't do all bad, Sammy," Dean defends the former-angel with a roll of his eyes. "He did pick it all out himself. Finished?" He questions when he hears no more pee hitting the pan (and that was a long-assed pee) and Sam gives a shake, then nods.
Fingers wiped over with the supplied hand sanitiser and scrubs back in place, Dean carries his brother back into the main room and deposits him on the bed, covering him over with the blankets. Situating the safety rail back into place, he plugs the intravenous pump back into the outlet and settles it once again where it stood.
"All right, Sammy, you stay right there on that bed. I've gotta take a leak too."
Thankfully, because they are in a hospital room that anyone can freely walk into, Dean actually closes the bathroom door fully. It allows Sam a short period of time to figure out whether he can lower the safety rails one handed, just like Dean had done only minutes ago.
Hearing the toilet flush, Sam releases an aggravated sigh, glaring at the safety rail to his right that still remains up, his attempts to lower it futile. Though he doesn't know why he's surprised. He has never been able to lower the things without assistance. And he can't even drop the stupid side rail down on a baby crib without having to call for his brother, something that had caused no end of amusement to Dean on a case a few years ago.
Aware he's not getting the thing down before Dean returns, Sam shimmies his butt down to the end of the bed. He uses the limited free space between the safety rail and footboard to escape, only to come face to face with Dean's disapproving scowl.
"Back on that bed."
"No. I don't need it. I just need my arm fixed."
"Sam, you passed out …"
The sound of the door opening stops them and Dean turns around to face the woman entering. Only a moment later he feels his jacket tighten as fingers curl around the fabric at his back. A quick glance over his shoulder reveals what he already knows.
Sammy's gone shy.
His kid having parked his butt back on the bed only so he can hide his tall frame behind Dean, who turns slightly so he can see both Sammy and the doctor.
"Well you're not quite little Sam Winchester anymore," she says, her tone light and friendly, shoulder length tawny hair framing her heart-shaped face; a softness in her light brown eyes as she smiles. "Last time I saw you, you barely reached past my hip and I was pretty small then too."
Lost, Sam looks to his brother for help, even as his doctor chuckles softly.
"Sammy, you remember little Rae-Rae?" Dean nudges, smiling teasingly at Sam's doctor.
"You can quit it with that Rae-Rae shit, Dean-o," she snorts. "It's Rae. And you know it."
Sam is still looking to Dean for clarification. "Sammy, re-meet Raeyan Jeffries, now Aster. Tom and Kara's youngest daughter."
Sam's eyes widen as his gaze travels back to Raeyan over Dean's shoulder. "Oh, wow. Of course, yeah. Sorry, Rae, I didn't recognise you."
"Hey, that's no worries, sweetie," she waves off, still smiling. "It has been a good few years since we all last saw each other." She looks to Dean and questions, "When was it? Ninety-nine?"
"Sounds about right, yeah," Dean agrees. "Seen the folks a few times, though."
She nods. "I don't think my parents will ever fully be able to step away from the life."
"Have you? Being married to a hunter?"
"Touché," she responds.
"You're married to a hunter?" Sam pipes up quietly.
"Sure am. Mike Aster."
"Oh. Sorry about his broken leg."
Rae smiles, "So is he, honey. The way he's behaving you'd think six weeks off his feet is the end of the world."
"I bet," Dean snorts. "Tell him his lazy ass can do some research."
Rae chuckles. "I might just do that, Dean. Now …" she starts, turning her attention back to Sam, who shuffles nervously on the bed, fingers still clutching at the back of Dean's jacket. "I see you've been in the wars …"
"No wars recently," Sam responds, before ducking his head down and leaning his forehead against Dean's back.
Dean smiles slightly in amusement. Reaching behind him, he carefully grasps Sam's right wrist, being mindful of the cannula, and keeping contact so he can shift himself to the side so he no longer stands in front of his brother. Sammy looks at him with wide eyes and tries to shift across the bed to hide back behind him, but the footboard prevents it.
Refraining from rolling his eyes, Dean decides on a different option. "Shift over that way," Dean tells him, gesturing Sam up the bed.
The kid goes, shuffling his butt over slightly so he's sitting crossed leg behind the safety rail. Dean takes Sam's vacated spot. He presses a hand to the back of Sammy's neck, giving a gentle squeeze as Sammy tries to lean behind him to hide once again.
"Rae needs to see you, bud."
"She can see me," Sam whispers.
"All of you."
"Nuh-uh, she's a girl!"
Rae hides her chuckle behind her hand, but Dean can see the mirth in her eyes. She quickly schools it though, reverting back to the consummate professional when Dean is able to retrieve a pouting Sam from behind his back.
"Well, there you are," she teases lightly. Sam ducks his head down, a small grin on his lips. "Okay, Sam, so the abrasions in your ears have had a small effect on your balance," she informs him. "And your brother told me you've been sick as recently as yesterday. That is in large part why you are dehydrated. Add in the small bump on your head, and it all resulted in your collapse today."
"I don't have a concussion though."
"No concussion. No. Did you have anything to eat or drink today, Sam?"
Sam stills. That question is a real double-edged sword that could easily see him in further trouble with his brother if he tells the truth. But then again, maybe he only has to tell a half truth. He did of course consume a coffee when he is forbidden from the beverage, but he also had water. The cookie, however, would not be considered suitable or sufficient breakfast food in Dean's eyes, so …
Dean gently taps a finger under Sam's chin and Sam slowly raises his head up. "Answer the question, please."
Sam nods, nibbling at his bottom lip. "I had some bottled water this morning. And I, um, ate a cookie."
"Real breakfast of champions there, Sammy," Dean whistles.
"It was a big cookie!" Sam defends, before deflating, knowing he is going to have to tell the truth of what followed. "It's just…"
"Just what, Sam?" Rae questions gently.
"I kinda threw up everything after eating it."
"And you've been throwing up with your illness for a near week prior?"
"Four days," Dean corrects, feeling a stab of guilt that perhaps this is his fault. He obviously hadn't managed to get enough fluids into his little boy. "Hey," he shoots a glare at said little boy as he feels a sharp pinch on his leg.
"Not your fault," Sam declares, firmly, but still quietly, the line between his eyes deeply creased into his stubborn frown.
"Okay," Dean says, even if he doesn't believe it. Sam's frown deepens, his eyes narrow and Dean smiles. "Okay, Sammy," he repeats softly.
"We're going to give you another bag of fluids once this one is done, Sam," Rae cuts in. "Which by the looks of it should be very soon. I'll send Stefan in to change it and take your vitals. And hopefully we can get you to X-ray for that arm within the next thirty minutes to an hour. I'll also write you up a prescription for some ear drops."
"Thanks, Rae," Dean says while Sam nods.
"Try and get some rest while you wait. Both of you."
"We'll try," Dean responds, knowing that even if he doesn't, Sam will.
Rae leaves and Dean turns to Sammy, giving him the stink eye and the kid shimmies his way back up the bed until his butt is resting in the crease of the raised head.
"Happy?"
"Thrilled," Dean quips. Sam punches him in the arm, features suddenly disapproving. "Hey, quit it with the punching and the pinching and the glaring, little boy."
But Sam doesn't quit it with the glaring. "I might not have seen Rae in years, Dean, but you've talked to her and mentioned where she works before. You brought me to Grey Willow, didn't you?"
"So what if I did?"
"Dean, we can't afford this place."
"Sam, I already told you …"
"You deal with the finances," Sam interrupts with a roll of his eyes. "I hear you, okay. But, seriously, Dean, we can't afford this. Even with the deduction they give."
Dean sighs. "Sammy, we're not here because we may or may not be able to afford it. We're here for the protection it offers."
Because lying just outside of Portland, the Grey Willow Medical Clinic is one of the few hunter-friendly clinics in the country. The place is owned by Harrison Jeffries, younger brother of Tom Jeffries (owner of the tattoo parlour they'll later be heading towards in Seattle) and an old friend of Bobby's from Sioux Falls.
The place has had an upgrade since Dean was last here, and while it may still retain the title of medical clinic, it now more resembles a small state of the art hospital. Able to lopen its doors day and night to whoever needs it. Especially when those seeking it are hunters. It makes explaining any anomalies in injuries much easier. Like your ears are all cut up because some weird-assed vortex screeched too loudly when it was being consumed by a freaking wolf.
There are barely noticeable sigils adorning corners of doors, baseboards, windowsills, ledges and frames, while the floors of each room and hallway are coated with Devil Traps only visible under black light. Unfortunately, figuring out which of the personnel are aware of the supernatural can be a little difficult.
It isn't like it's tattooed on people's foreheads.
Sam sighs, opening his mouth to say something in return when the intravenous pump feeding him fluids and painkiller starts beeping. At the same time the door opens to admit Stefan with a fresh bag of fluids. Sam shifts across the bed to be closer to Dean, who sets a hand on his shoulder, giving a squeeze. It allows for some of the anxiety and shyness Sam is feeling to ease ever so slightly.
"Well would you look at that awesome timing," Stefan crows proudly, but quietly as not to disturb other patients before he closes the door.
Dean snorts and Sammy smiles slightly.
"Sammy, I'm just gonna move round to your other side so Stefan can get to the pump," Dean communicates, unwilling to allow the kid to think he might be leaving.
Sam nods tightly, his eyes tracking Dean's every move until Dean stands on his left. Reassured Dean isn't going anywhere, Sam turns his gaze back to Stefan, silently watching as a blood pressure cuff is wound around his upper right arm and a pulse-ox attached to his finger.
While Stefan jots down the readings, Dean closes his eyes briefly, knowing a fight is coming.
"Sam, I just need to roll you onto your right side now to take your temperature," Stefan says, pulling on gloves.
"Oh hell no," Sammy refuses, shifting his butt back fully against the mattress.
"Sammy …"
"No, Dean. I know my patient rights. I got every right to refuse this." He turns stubborn eyes to Stefan, who is hovering with the thermometer. "And I'll shove that up your ass before you get anywhere near mine."
"Give us a minute," Dean tells Stefan, who looks at Sam's mutinous gaze one last time before nodding, setting the thermometer back in the small tray and removing his gloves on the way out of the door.
"Good riddance."
Dean catches his brother's chin. "I know you're upset, Sam, but that was rude and you'll apologise when he comes back in here, do you understand me?"
"Like you haven't spoken worse crap than that to people."
"That's me. You on the other hand have manners I expect you to adhere to. Because you were damned well raised better."
He watches the tears well in Sam's eyes, the kid more vulnerable because of his injury, his setting, and hell, everything that has happened today. "I'm sorry," the kid whispers, his heart taking over his anger.
"I know." Dean leans forward, resting his forehead against his kid's for a moment before pulling back enough to look in Sam's eyes. "You remember what we talked about the other day?"
"Yeah. That neither of us can change this," Sammy murmurs. "It's part of me, no matter how much I don't like it, I gotta live and deal with it."
"Yeah. Just like I have to suffer the burden of being unnaturally handsome," Dean teases.
Sammy sniffles back his tears. "I'm sorry to say I think you've been staring in a cursed mirror all your life if you think you're handsome, Dean. I'm so cuter than you."
"Exactly. You're all cute and young and dimples and puppy eyes. Your big brother, however, is all rugged manliness."
Sam snorts. "If you say so."
They're silent for a time, Sam resting his head against Dean's shoulder, Dean rubbing circles into Sam's back, helping his tense boy relax.
"Okay," the whisper is faint and Dean eases his kid back for confirmation. "I'll have my temp taken… if you do it." Sam doesn't want his temperature taken full stop, but Dean's right.
He can't get away from it for the rest of his life and he can't put up a fight every time. But that doesn't mean he wants some stranger doing it, even if that stranger is a nurse and does these things all the time.
"All right. Let's get you on your side."
Lying on his side a minute later, the waistband of the scrubs sitting just below his bottom, Sam tries not to squirm at the feel of the foreign object sticking in his butthole, especially when Stefan returns to the room. His brother is rubbing his back, murmuring nonsense to keep him calm. And Stefan takes it all in as if he walks in every day to a patient's family member doing his job for him.
"That's it? Not a minute?" Sam questions surprised when he hears the beep after only about thirty seconds, not that he's complaining if it's over as quick as that.
"Yep, all done," Dean pulls the thermometer out and takes in the reading, before showing it to Stefan.
"We get the good thermometers," Stefan says with a wink, jotting down the reading. "You did great, Sam," he praises. "Much better than other patients who've found themselves in the same situation."
"I can't imagine that's true with the way I was rude to you." Sam feels his face heat. "I'm sorry," he apologises quietly, feeling the scrubs being pulled up to thankfully cover his bottom again.
"I've dealt with far ruder patients, Sam, so don't you worry about that. Now, what say we get these fluids hooked up so you can get some rest?"
"Okay," Sam agrees, watching as Stefan switches out the old bag for the new. "What's that in the bottle?"
"That's your painkiller," Stefan supplies. "It goes through pretty slow, but it is fast acting. Get some rest, Sam. I'll be back later to unhook you."
With Stefan no longer in the way of the rocker, Dean returns around that side to retake his seat.
Sam squirms on the bed and Dean can tell the kid is irritated by his lack of underwear, but there isn't a lot Dean can do about it right now. Their gear is still back at the motel in Redfern Grove. Which reminds Dean he needs to call and book the room for another night, thankful the place has an open check-out policy.
"Sammy, if you really don't like it, the clinic has something you can wear." An eyebrow arcs at him in question. "They got some plastic briefs …" Sam stares at him in horror "… or a pull-up or diaper," Dean continues calmly relaying the underwear options Stefan had offered as if they have these types of conversations every day.
"No," Sam rejects in a grumble.
Dean knows that if it became necessary to put Sammy back in pull-ups or diapers, Sam would kick up one hell of a stink. Just like anyone would that has lived as a mostly self-sufficient adult for over a decade. Yet Dean also doesn't fail to notice how much less horrified the kid seemed to be at the suggestion of a pull-up or diaper than he was of the plastic briefs.
And Dean may tease good-naturedly, but he knows that particular subject is sensitive as Sammy was much older than other children when his body fully allowed him to say goodbye to diapers as a child. And when - if - that need arises once again, it will have to be handled with kid gloves. It would be a big adjustment for the both of them. Sam having to grow comfortable wearing them again and what that fully entails. And Dean will have to get used to recognising when the kid needs a change again.
But he's getting ahead of himself.
They haven't reached that stage yet. And may never do so. Yet Dean needs to be prepared for the possibility. After all, he needs to be able to get Sammy through it. And neither one of them will be able to do so if Dean freaks out about it too.
"What?" Dean questions, seeing Sam staring at him. "You want me to go strip outta mine so you can wear 'em?"
"Eww, Dean. Gross." Dean chuckles as Sam's face now twists into disgust. "I'd rather go butt naked than accept any of those options."
"No you wouldn't."
"Well you're not putting me in no diaper either."
"Never said I was," Dean replies. "Not today anyway," he adds, to try and lessen the impact of what he knows could very well become reality, what with Sammy's younger behaviour of late. And the almost near wetting. Along with that one accident when the kid was sick.
"Shut up," Sam grumbles, even as he reaches out to brush his fingers over the chest pocket of Dean's shirt. Hazel eyes rise to Dean's through wisps of damp hair. "Gone?" Sammy questions, bottom lip beginning to tremble.
Dean pats the pocket, and then the rest of his pockets and is saddened by the realisation that his baby boy has asked for something he wants and Dean doesn't have it on him. "I'm sorry, baby, it must still be in the car."
"Oh," Sammy's face falls and Dean feels like crap for forgetting it. "That- that's okay, De," he mumbles, trying his best to swallow back tears.
Unable to just simply sit there and watch his kid struggle, Dean rises, hooks a hand under the upper bar of the closest safety rail and lifts it slightly before pushing it down. Reaching out for Sammy, who leans towards him easily, Dean carefully eases him off the bed, bringing him onto his lap, now grateful this is a peds room with a rocker. Tucking the blankets around the kid, Sam looks at him through teary eyes.
"I no needs a dam-ding anyways," he whispers.
Dean smiles softly, sadly, pressing a kiss to his brave little man's temple. And it takes a moment for Sammy's words to register, but when they do, Dean is hit with the recollection of Sammy's preferred name for his pacifier.
Dam-ding.
Dean smiles lightly, resting his chin on Sammy's head. And yeah, he takes the blame for that appellation. The kid having heard a young Dean mutter 'where is the damn thing' when trying to find a lost pacifier on one too many occasions. And of course, Dean had been more likely to start farting rainbows than trying to get a stubborn Sammy to stop calling it that.
So it stuck.
Although it was fortunate for Dean's hide that Sammy couldn't pronounce his 'th' properly that first time Bobby had heard the kid calling his pacifier that. It allowed Dean the opportunity to just shrug his shoulders at the man as if he didn't have a clue what Sammy was saying and just blame it on baby talk.
Of course, it hadn't taken the old man long to figure it out, and the swat Dean's rear-end had received was more out of fond exasperation than reprimand as it hadn't stung anywhere near usual.
He does have to wonder, though, if it ever reminded Sammy of his pacifier anytime he heard someone say 'damn thing' in earshot of him throughout these past years. Bobby was prone to doing that more than anyone, Dean remembers fondly as he reaches out to the bookshelf beside them and grasps hold of a soft toy elephant that sits atop it.
Drawing the toy towards him, Dean holds it out to Sammy, hoping to take the kid's mind away from thoughts of his pacifier. Normally, Sammy would have already stuck his thumb in his mouth, but the cannula in the back of his hand and the bandage wrapped around it is preventing that.
"Hey, Sammy, why don't you hang onto this for a bit, baby? It looks like it could do with one of your special warm hugs." And, wow, it's been a long time since he's referred to a hug of Sam's in that way.
Sam stares from him to the toy and back and Dean can see the indecision warring in his eyes. It doesn't take long before Sammy makes up his mind, though, and the kid's hand snakes out from within the blanket folds and Dean hands the toy over. Sammy clutches the elephant and draws it against his chest, thumb slowly brushing over the soft fur.
Dean allows a fond smile forwards as he tucks the blanket back around his kid once more. He pushes against the floor to start the rocker moving only gently as not to jar Sammy's arm. Within a minute, though Sam is still awake, he is droopy-eyed and boneless against Dean; relaxed and out of pain thanks to the liquid IV acetaminophen running through his system. And for the time being the soft toy has eased Sammy's need for his pacifier.
#
Dean's eyes open before the door handle even presses downwards, the door slowly opening and Rae peeks her head in. Seeing them, she smiles and steps fully into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Is he asleep?" She whispers.
Dean nods. "You know," he starts just as quietly, "this would freak most people out." He knows he doesn't need to explain what he's talking about to Rae. "Or at least startle them."
"You've clearly forgotten how many times I've seen Sam sitting on your lap in the past." Rae pulls herself up onto Sam's bed, crossing her legs at the knee. "I may not have seen you boys much over the years, Dean, but I haven't forgotten how close you two are. And since when do you give a flying fuck what other people think?"
"I don't." Dean glances at Sam.
"Ah," Rae nods, understanding. "He always was more sensitive," she says softly, fingers gently brushing over Sam's hair. "Do you want me to get him a pacifier?"
Dean raises an eyebrow at the question. "Do you have one spare?"
Rae smiles, "Of course. Might be a little more hygienic than him sucking on that," she points to the elephant in Sam's arms, one of the ears of which has found its way into Sam's mouth.
"Yeah. I tried taking it away, but there were tears -"
"- And he's currently in the hospital."
"Exactly," he shoots her a small grin at her understanding.
"I'll send Stefan in. Don't give me that look, Dean. Stefan's a good guy. And there's a reason I assigned him as Sam's primary nurse while you're here."
Dean understands her meaning immediately, and it has nothing to do with them being hunters. "As much as I appreciate that, Rae, Sam's not a Little."
And it isn't a denial, because Dean has had that thought himself more than once lately. He had discussed the little he knows of the age-play community when Cas had in fact brought it up as a viable explanation for Sammy's behaviour after the other man found reference to it online. That Sammy is just slipping in and out of a 'little' headspace without recognising or understanding it. And to someone like Rae, who is fully aware of that community, Sammy's behaviour must look like a neon sign.
Rae leans forward and whispers, "Then what is he, if not a Little?"
"I have no freaking idea, okay," Dean hisses back. "Just… don't say anything about it to him. If this is just Sam finding his Little Self …" which Dean doesn't believe to be true because the timing of Sammy's regressive behaviour coming so soon after that spell being cast can't be just a coincidence. But he's not about to mention that whole thing. "… Then fair enough, you'll have been right …"
"Sam's always been a Little," Rae intones. "Though I doubt he could help it with having such a Big for a big brother."
Dean rolls his eyes. "I'm not a Big. Sam's not a Little."
"You keep on denying that, Daddy."
"Rae."
She grins and holds up her hands. "Fine. Fine. I know when not to push."
Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "Did you come in here for something specific?"
"Okay, back to the fun stuff I see." She reaches out and brushes a finger over Sam's hair once more. "Is he going to need to be sedated for his X-ray?"
"No. I'll be right outside the door though."
Rae smiles, soft and light. "Figured you might." She glances down at her watch before looking back to Dean. "It'll probably be another half hour before we can get Sam into radiology," she says apologetically, uncrossing her legs and slipping herself off the bed, righting the skirt that had risen slightly on her way down. "We have a chock-a-block waiting room today."
Dean nods understandingly, although he would love nothing more than to get Sammy fixed up right away, he's also aware Sam's injury is not top priority to the busy clinic. "What's this?" he questions as he takes the prescription sheet Rae holds out to him.
"The antibiotic ear drops for Sam. One drop in each ear, morning and night. It'll clear up those abrasions and any infection that might arise from them."
"Thanks."
"You said you have children's Tylenol?" Dean nods to the question. "When you guys leave here, keep to the dosage on the bottle. But with Sam's height you'll be able to give him an extra half dose or even a full dose if the pain gets too bad and he's not due his next dose for a while. And from that 'I'm not an idiot, Rae' look you're giving me, you're already plenty aware of that," she chuckles. "He's been keeping you on your toes, huh."
Dean snorts softly at the loaded statement.
#SPN#
Hating himself for trying to wake Sammy this way, Dean carefully starts to tug the pacifier from Sam's mouth. True to her word, Rae had sent Stefan in with it only a few minutes after she had left. The male nurse had simply stripped the pacifier from its packaging, rinsed it under the faucet and handed it to Dean without so much as a raised eyebrow or a hint of inwards or outwards disgust.
"Afraid we don't have any bigger sizes. If my place was nearer I'd run home and get Sam one of my boy's spares," Stefan had said.
"Hey, man, this'll be fine. Not many places would even cater to this. So thanks," Dean had replied.
Dean had had to open Sammy's mouth a little to get the elephant ear out. Sammy had whimpered and fussed until he had hold of the new pacifier. Unfortunately sensing it wasn't his pacifier, he spit it out, his breath hitching. Dean slipped the pacifier back in his kid's mouth before tears could start and just held it there (just as he had done when first giving Sammy a pacifier again) long enough for Sammy to latch on and be comfortable with this new one.
Or as comfortable as he was going to get.
Letting the memory go, Dean sighs when the kid's teeth catch hold of the pacifier and suck it back in. He smiles, however, when Sammy's groggy eyes flutter open. The kid squirms and smiles sleepily behind the pacifier and Dean can't help smile back at how cute his little boy is.
"Hi, De."
"Hey, buddy, you gotta wake up for me a little more okay? It's time to go for your X-ray."
"Can go later, p'ease?" Sammy questions, speaking around the pacifier as he wriggles on the bed. "I's sleepy."
"I know. It'll only be for a few minutes then you can go back to sleep." Dean uses the bed controls to raise the head of the bed so Sam's sitting up.
Sam takes the pacifier out of his mouth and stares at it bemused. "Not my dam-ding," the kid holds it out to Dean and unceremoniously plops it in his outstretched hand.
Dean makes no mention of the near forty minutes the kid had slept with it in because Sammy seems more interested in the toy elephant.
"No, Sammy," Dean chides, pulling the toy away when Sammy goes to put the soggy ear back in his mouth. "That's dirty, buddy. That's why I got you the new dam-ding. But what say we leave both your dam-ding and the toy here while we go for a spin to X-ray, huh?"
Sam stares from the pacifier in Dean's hand, to the elephant, back and forth several times, before nodding. "Okay."
"Attaboy."
Dropping the closest rail down, Dean slides his arms beneath Sam's knees and behind his back, scooping him up bridal style, before carefully setting him down in a waiting wheelchair.
"No way, De," Sam moves to rise as soon as he realises what he's sitting in. "I can walk fine."
"Sit."
Sam does so with a pout. "Not a doggie."
"You're also not walking." Dean squats down in front of him after draping a blanket over his kid's lap. "Look, Sammy, I get it. I'd be grumbling too. But you're lucky you didn't crack your skull when you collapsed earlier, bud. I'm not chancing it happening again and you ending up further hurt. Okay?"
Seeing the need in his brother's green eyes for Sam to understand, mixed with lingering fear from his collapse and the events prior, Sam easily acquiesces. "Okay."
Dean smiles, pats Sam's knees, a grimace fluttering swiftly over his face as his right knee cracks upon rising. The grimace just as swiftly whisked away as green eyes meet worried hazel.
"Just an old injury playing up a little, bud. I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle."
"Fiddles get broken," Sam responds, not believing his brother's excuse for a second.
Dean holds back a sigh. "Sammy, I'm fine. Just a few bruises is all."
"Have Rae look at it while we're here then," the kid's eyes turn beseeching and Dean's hard-pressed not to groan. "Please, De."
Dean huffs, but nods. "Alright, I will. But let's first get you to X-ray," he says, walking around the wheelchair to grasp the handles, "before you decide I need a full medical work up." And despite Dean standing behind Sammy as he wheels him out the door, he can still see the movement of his kid's jaw. "Heard that."
"No you didn't," Sammy retorts.
"Oh I did."
"Didn't."
"Did."
Reaching radiology a minute later, they meet Rae there and park off to the side as the patient already inside isn't done yet. Leaning back against a wall, Dean's still confused how Sam getting Rae to promise to look at Dean's knee (the second the kid saw her he might add, drawing their intelligent back and forth bantering to a close, because seriously, they could go on forever with that unless stopped) evolved into a conversation about Harry Potter.
Luckily the wait before the door to X-ray opens isn't too long, and a young woman hobbles out on crutches, clearly not used to the contraptions. She gives them a smile as she passes them on her way to an older woman baring a striking resemblance to her on one of the few awaiting chairs.
"She's not in a wheelchair," Sam grumbles lowly.
Hearing him, Dean leans down to his kid's ear, "I doubt she collapsed not even two hours ago either."
"Maybe not. But I'm pretty sure she woulda collapsed when she hurted her leg," Sammy responds, a tiny smirk creasing one side of his mouth.
"Smartass."
"Samuel Andrews."
Rising to look at the radiographer now standing in the open doorway of X-ray, Dean gives the back of his brother's neck a gentle squeeze. "You're up, Sammy."
Surprised when Rae takes Dean's place behind the wheelchair to wheel him in, Sam turns in the chair to look up at Dean. It takes a moment to reach through the fog of painkiller induced grogginess for Sammy to understand.
"You can't come in," he states, the both of them having been through this routine, with each other and with others, that they know the protocol well enough.
But still, Dean shakes his head. "I'll be right out here, Sammy," he reassures as he follows his kid's chair to stand just outside the threshold of the door.
Sammy, however, is not reassured. His bottom lip pulls down into a pout and he turns those big puppy eyes up to the awaiting radiographer as if the policy is all his fault. The guy visibly gulps and turns his gaze to Rae, who chuckles.
"Lij, meet the Puppy-Eyes of Doom, otherwise known as Sam. Sam, meet Lij. Be nice, he's a teddy bear."
Sam huffs, eyes running up and down Lij's frame to take him in. "You don't look like a teddy bear. They're fat and squishy. You're not. We met a suicidal one once."
Dean snorts in the doorway and quickly covers for his little brother's slip, not knowing how much – if anything – this radiographer may know of the job some of the patients that come through the clinic's doors occupy. "Some TV show he was watching."
"Ah."
"That's my big brother, Dean," Sam states proudly, and Dean's lips quirk slightly. "He's gonna wait right outside that door, got it," Sam adds, pointing a finger at Lij, who Dean notices quickly holding back a smile as he nods.
Lij stands there feeling both wonder and amusement inside of him. Because this young man in front of him is a real life Little. When Rae had warned him Samuel Andrews might be displaying younger characteristics than his recorded age, he had asked why instead of simply nodding. Only thinking perhaps his next-on-the-list-patient may have disabilities. But Rae - non-judging as she is - knows Lij has dabbled with age-play, and whispered in his ear that Sam is a Little. He had been surprised and excited, for though he had dabbled he'd never met a Little before.
Those eyes directed at him make Sam look littler than little, and Lij isn't sure he would go with puppy eyes. More like kitten. Like those of Puss in Boots from Shrek 2. The 'give me what I want or I'm gonna make you cry' eyes. Sam's brother's eyes, however, scare Lij a little; something in them that tells Lij the man would kick his ass if he were to hurt Sam.
"Dean's more than welcome to do that, Sam," he agrees seriously, holding true to his promise to Rae to be a true professional and make no mention of it.
"I know he is," Sam says, matter-of-factly. "Cause that's what he's gonna do. De said so." This time Lij does smile outright. "And if you hurt me he's gonna come kick your bottom. He said that too you know."
Lij swallows. He knew it. He looks to Rae, because he's going to have to manipulate Sam's arm slightly to do the X-ray, which can cause pain. Surely that doesn't count as hurting Sam. Right?
"And with that introduction out the way, we're gonna leave you to it," she says quickly, giving Lij a winning smile as she draws the door closed with a click. "Was that the painkillers or nerves?" she questions Dean quietly, chuckling.
"Bit of both," Dean responds, crossing his arms over his chest. "He'll snap out of it once he starts chatting about what every machine in there does. As long as Lij keeps his mouth shut." He levels a look at Rae.
She has the grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place to say anything to anyone, but I didn't want Lij caught off guard," she quietly tells him. "He won't say anything. He'll have me to deal with if he does."
"Oh he won't be dealing with anyone, honey, if a single word of this leaves his lips," Dean drops his voice so only she can hear as he steps in close, leaning down to speak against her ear. "Because I'll have already snapped his neck."
A chill descends down Rae's spine as he pulls back, enough for her to see the promise in Dean's eyes, as if she hadn't already heard it within his threat. A sharp reminder of just how dangerous a man Dean can be, despite the way he is with his little brother. Everyone else outside of their immediate circle a potential threat to them.
She has heard the rumour-mill throughout the years and she remembers hearing of Roy and Walt's disappearance. Two hunters who bragged they 'killed the Winchesters' dead' or 'killed that hell-spawn Winchester right in front of Dean'. They laughed about it. Toasted their victory. Didn't care about the warning from Dean they were all too eager to brag about too. Other hunter's told them they were dead men walking. Because as much as Winchesters' were not on a lot of hunters' friend lists, you were an idiot not to be wary of them, and you were even more of an idiot to kill one of them in front of the other.
Especially if the 'other' was Dean.
No one was surprised when Roy and Walt disappeared between the failed apocalypse and Dean's own subsequent disappearance into domesticity.
So when it comes to his brother's safety, Rae is well aware Dean's threats aren't idle, but she also knows one thing he isn't. "You're not a stone cold killer, Dean. Especially of an innocent."
"You haven't known me for years, Rae. No matter how much you think you might know about me and about Sam, you don't. And if I have to do what's necessary to keep my kid safe because you were doing what you thought best, that'll be on your head. Not mine."
Rae cannot negate the truth of Dean's words. Despite their friendly bantering earlier, she doesn't really know the man before her anymore. And if Lij was hurt because of something she told him out of turn, then it would be her fault.
"Lij won't speak a word of this, Dean," she promises, happy to hear the sturdiness remain in her own voice. "Not when exposing Sam would expose himself."
"Is that all that's keeping his word?"
"No," she says quickly, "I'll ensure it."
"Make sure you do, Rae."
The door to X-ray opens, punching a hole through the tension in the little bubble surrounding them.
Dean glances down at his watch and Rae wouldn't put it passed him to have timed every second Sam was out of his sight. And as Lij wheels Sam out of the room to rejoin them, she honestly shouldn't be surprised how swiftly Dean's demeanour changes. The man who had threatened Lij's life not even a minute ago receding to just below the surface as the sweet and caring big brother takes centre stage. Squeezing the back of Sam's neck in a gentle gesture of comfort and reassurance, teasing Lij about not having to kick his bottom like Sam had warned on entering X-ray.
And she realises Dean can shift so easily because those two sides of him seamlessly coexist for the boy in that chair. The two sides blending into this man and hunter who has done so much for the world, yet would watch the world burn to save his little brother. And from what she's heard over the years, sweet little Sam, who is smiling shyly as he says goodbye to Lij, is just as dangerous as his big brother when pushed the wrong way.
Rae excuses herself after ensuring Dean is able to settle Sam back in his room, the man responding in the affirmative with a smirk and salute. But that dark reminder flashes in his eyes while Sam faces her way instead of his. She nods minutely, offers a smile and tells Sam she'll see him in a bit.
She has films to review and a sweet guy to keep alive.
#
Dean watches Rae go, hoping she'll hold up her end of the deal. He doesn't want to hurt Lij, he seemed like a good guy who just ended up in the middle of a situation he shouldn't have been placed in. But he will always do what's necessary to protect Sam, and if that includes shutting a guy up with physical violence, then that is what Dean will do.
He looks back down at Sammy when he feels a thumb pressing against his stomach, a white sticker with a gold star now adorning his shirt. "What's this?"
Sam waves him down and Dean goes to be eye level with his kid. Sam twirls a finger and Dean shifts his head so his ear is near to Sammy's mouth. "Lij gave it to me for being a brave boy," Sammy whispers, a slight pink tinge coating his cheeks.
Dean smiles, twirls his own finger for Sammy to turn his head so he can whisper into Sam's ear. "Good. Cause there ain't no braver boy than my little man."
Sam smiles shyly at him as Dean draws away, a finger reaching up to rub over the sticker Dean planted on his forehead. For lack of shirt space of course.
Returning to the room, and before Dean can settle Sammy back on the bed, Sammy is out of the wheelchair, blanket trailing behind him as he shuffles straight over to the rocker. Wide beseeching eyes look to Dean as Sammy pats the arm of the rocker, before grimacing slightly and glaring down at the cannula in his hand.
"Alright, baby," Dean soothes, picking up the toy elephant and the pacifier from the bed before walking over and settling himself into the rocker, shifting to get comfortable.
Dean pulls his kid down onto his lap and hands over the toy, Sammy tucking it in against his chest once again. He holds up the pacifier, and Sam takes it, but slides the ring on one of the elephant's soft tusks rather than putting the nipple in his mouth. The kid then holds up the hand with the cannula to Dean.
"Out now?" Sammy questions.
"Not yet, baby," Dean denies the request as he carefully sets the hand down onto Sammy's thigh and wraps the blanket back around him. "Is it hurting?"
"No," Sammy admits begrudgingly. "Just don't likes it."
"I know, baby. And as soon as Rae gives the all clear, I'll get them to take it out. Until then, what say we read a story," Dean offers, nodding his head towards the bookshelf beside them.
Sam sits up a little to peruse the titles. "All little kid's books," he states turning back to Dean, who gasps theatrically.
"Young man, didn't anybody ever tell you kid's books are the most fun?"
Sam giggles lightly. "Mmm-hmm. But he likes comic books best, so …" Sam shrugs his right shoulder.
"Graphic novels, little geek," Dean corrects. "And exactly my point. Pictures. Fun." He nods his head back to the shelf. "Pick one."
"Okay," Sam huffs, but there's a little smile at the corner of his lips and Dean refrains from smirking triumphantly. "Ummmmm," Sammy draws it out as his eyes run back and forth over the titles. "Oh." Sammy gives a little bounce on Dean's lap and Dean knows the kid found one he truly enjoys. "'Owl Moon', De, p'ease."
Dean reaches over and withdraws the book from the shelf. "Alright. Get comfortable, my little Monkey."
Sam leans against him and carefully wriggles himself down so he can rest his head against Dean's shoulder without cricking his neck. Pulling the elephant to him, he sticks the ear in his mouth, suckling softly.
He doesn't see Dean refraining himself from sighing at the sight, and Dean doesn't bother to mention the ignored pacifier. He'll swap it out when Sammy is asleep. He wraps an arm around his kid's back and rests his hand just above Sammy's hip, mindful of the arm sitting in the sling.
Setting the now open book on Sam's lap so he has a hand free to turn the pages, Dean begins to read, voice deep and low, soothing. "It was late one winter night, long past my bedtime, when Pa and I went owling." Sammy pulls his arm free from the blanket and runs his finger over the tiny and shadowed 'Pa and kid' at the bottom left of the page while Dean continues to read from the right hand-side. "There was no wind. The trees stood still as giant statues. And the moon was so bright the sky seemed to shine. Somewhere behind us a train whistle blew, long and low, like a sad, sad song."
Sam yawns suddenly and widely and Dean knows they'll be lucky to get through the next few pages, let alone the book, before Sammy drifts off again.
#SPN#
"You mean he did this?" Rae says into her cell phone as she stands at her office window, looking down into the courtyard garden below, a focal point of the clinic surrounded by four walls. "But how can it not have been?" She questions, turning away to take a seat in her desk chair. "He was the original bearer, his twisted grace infused with the thing… Well no. Unless you know of any vessels he used that weren't destroyed for me to autopsy? … Aside from him, of course."
She snorts softly as she listens to the speaker on the other end, picking up a carrot stick from her lunch to nibble at. "Right. I'd have to make up a bunch of bullshit to make that fly with his brother. You don't just do an entire body scan for a broken arm… Fine," she lets out a sigh. "I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises. What? … Yes, Sam's showing signs. I haven't a clue how long, I'm not the one who sporadically tails the Winchesters', am I? Talk to Mace." She laughs sourly, raising an eyebrow. "Give Dean a push, huh? Already did. And you know what, it was probably a push too far. His protective instincts of his brother have already doubled." She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, I'll be there."
She ends the call, eyes glued to Sam Winchester's X-ray displayed on her computer screen before her as she sets her phone onto the desk. A few taps of fingertips against the keyboard and the image zooms in. A sigh escapes her as she stares at her surprising find.
She is sorely tempted to open Sam's arm up once she has him on her operating table. To see with her own eyes the truth of what the X-ray is showing her. But opening the arm would be a fruitless exercise in answering several other questions she has. And no matter what answers she wants, she cannot – will not – put Sam through extensive surgery when he only needs to be put under anaesthesia to realign the break in his ulna. A break that does not require open surgery. Just manipulation that would be excruciating to anyone whilst awake.
So now she just needs to figure out how the hell she can get an extensive look at Sam's entire skeletal structure without raising Winchester suspicions. And remembering how Dean had just known she had told Lij Sam is a Little, it may not be all that easy.
Hit NEXT for Part 2 -