-1Before you read, this is a very mild warning about the imagery in some parts of this chapter, there is brief sexual implication and also a little bit of Character death implication as well (Even though no one is going to die I promise!)
Bar Fights and Bullets
Chapter 15
Dr. Reese stared dumbfounded at the x-ray before him, scratching his chin and cocking his head to the side before looking through his patients file and pulling out the young man's x-ray from his last visit only days before. "This… This is impossible." He mumbled to himself pairing the two side by side and moving his eyes from one to the other then back again and again, "It's just…not rational…"
- "What the hell could be taking him so long?" Dean quipped from where he was laying in the middle of the room staring up at the ceiling and counting the tiles. "Shouldn't he be back in here by now?"
"Just…" Sam stepped back from the window he had been looking out of and closer to his brother, "Try to relax alright?"
"Yeah, whatever you try relaxing while wearing one of these ridiculous gowns and laying here awaiting the news on your future."
"Dean, your brother's right." John glanced up from the paper he was pretending to read and looked from his youngest son to his eldest.
"Since when do you always take his side? I'm the older brother!"
"Oh please-" Sam let his smart aleck remark he was about to fling die on his lips as the doctor pushed the door open and stepped back into the room.
"So how's it lookin' doc?" Dean asked his voice trying to sound neutral but carrying a hopeful tone none the less as he studied the obviously surprised older man's expression
Dean's x-rays still held tightly in his grasp, The man with the grey hair popped his neck from side to side before rubbing it, "Well…" He whispered making his way over to the small x-ray screen. "I'm uh….. I'm not to sure exactly how to tell you this Mr. Winchester…" He placed the new transparent picture of Dean's insides up on the small white board.
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed unable to keep the fear from inside of him at the beginning of the doctor's statement and choice of wording, "Just- just tell me." He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder now and made no attempt to shrug it off, hell he wasn't even breathing at the moment, everything, time, heart beat, the world stopped… hanging , depending on the words he was about to hear.
"The bullet…Has somehow…" Dr. Reese shook his head, he himself still not able to believe what he was saying. "Somehow managed to dislodge from your spinal cord."
"What?!?!" Sam asked for his brother unable to stop himself, trying to sound as surprised as he could all the while a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth threatening to appear at any moment.
Dean was simply staring at the doctor, eyes wide jaw open his thoughts running through his head at a million miles a minute. Thoughts of normalcy, thoughts of standing. Walking. Living again… Thoughts of Dean Winchester the man he used to be, and now believed he would be again… soon.
"I don't believe it…" John finally chimed in after taking a minute to compose his insides enough to speak, for the first time since Mary was alive he felt joy, unbelievable amounts of joy and happiness, hope, spilling over inside of him, so much that he feared he might burst at the seems. A very un-john like emotion to be dealing with.
"Your telling me." The doctor cleared his throat.
"So does that mean your going to have to go in and remove it?" Dean asked after a minute finally finding his voice again pulling himself from his ecstasy filled thoughts and rejoining the real world. "Is there a bullet just floating around inside of me somewhere? Should I be worried?"
"Well… See, that's the thing…"
"What's the thing?" John's vocal cords tightened as he looked at the doctor praying that the good news they had just been given would not be over shadowed with news of a less elative nature.
"It's not only dislodged… It's gone…."
John Sam and Dean all shared brief knowing glances before John nodded and spoke again, "Well,.. That is weird. Are you're sure?"
"Positive." Dr. Reese licked his lips looking down at Dean, "I don't know exactly what happened Dean, but well… You've got some angel watching out for you son, and it appears to me that he's given you a second chance."
"So the prognosis has changed then?" Dean's brow rose and a smirk played on his lips.
"I don't see where it wouldn't, with the bullet now having exited the spinal cavity… The nerves have already begun to mend themselves…"
"So he's healing then?" John questioned
"Yes." The man in the white coat nodded exhaling and lifting up Dean's left leg and rotating it at the ankle a few times checking his muscle deterioration rate and range of motion. "Keep with the physical therapy, but remember not to over work yourself. Everything is looking good here" He repeated the same bending and twisting motion with the other leg before placing it down and nodding to himself.
"I'll make sure he doesn't." Sam offered eyeing his brother as he spoke Dean shooting him an annoyed roll of his eyes in response.
"Thank you Sam." Dr. Reese smiled kindly and pulled open Dean's chart writing down a few small notes.
"Doc? When should we expect things to start progressing? Feeling to begin returning… you know things like that?"
"These things are not measured out in days Sam, it is important for all of you to remember that, to remain optimistic throughout recovery… They can take months or even years to recover from, everyone's body heals at it's own pace."
"But I will recover… fully right?" Sam nearly cringed at the worry now bathing his brother's optimistic and hope filled expression, threatening to once again remove it.
"Dean.." The doctor's voice dropped a little in volume before he continued, "This whole… situation is a miracle in it's self, why don't you just enjoy it and work hard to get to the next step alright? There is no rush …"
Dean grunted, that was not the response he wanted, but it would have to do for now. He really hated when Doctors did that whole talk you in circles and make you think they are giving you an answer but they really aren't answering anything they just don't wanna ruin your hopes or give you false expectations bullshit.
John shook his head and reached for his keys in his pocket, "Get your clothes back on and I'll pull the car around." He stepped out the door of the small room and closed it behind himself before closing his eyes, tears of happiness began to flow freely down his cheeks as he inhaled deeply and felt himself finally breathing again for the first time since he had arrived at his son's aid. "Thank you." He whispered to no one in particular.
- Clad in his normal workout outfit which consisted of no more then a pair of grey sweat pants, Dean lay sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor on top of a overly sized blue exercise mat, they had been back from Caleb's for 8 days now and against Sam's wishes they were up to exercising and therapy sessions five times a day, Dean was a lot of things, but patient was not one of them, and in his mind this was taking far to long and he needed to push and push until his body ached, his flesh burned and he was mobile again.
"Again." The older brother grunted his flesh sticky and wet with perspiration as he lifted his head and looked down toward the man at his feet.
"Dean, remember what Dr. Reese said, these things take time, your not going to heal in one day."
"It's been eight."
"Oh come on man, you know what I mean-"
"I should have been able to feel something else by now. Now do it again Sam!"
Sam drew his lip into his mouth but kept quiet as he lifted his brothers leg firmly in his grasp working it at the ankle rotating it slowly one way and then the other. The tired and irritated younger man pushed himself to his knees and rose the deteriorated and still immobile limb straightening it and then bending it at the knee a good twenty times before moving on to the second leg.
The silence surrounding the two brothers was nearly deafening, Dean wanted to do nothing since they returned home, nothing aside from work out and push himself into a full recovery.
Keeping his brother's leg straight Sam pressed his palm hard against the bottom of his foot flexing it in his grasp. "Alright here we go you ready?" Sam even in his exhausted and own over worked state tried to sound encouraging as he tore his eyes from the foot he was holding and pressing against to look at his brother.
So much determination, so much fight was written across Dean's face it was down right scary, he really was a full on solider and he has thrown himself into this battle completely with the intent to triumph. Sam watched as Dean swallowed hard and closed his eyes his hands balling into fists at his sides and pounding against the mat beneath him.
"Relax man, relax and concentrate, don't frustrate yourself. Press your toes against my hand, come on you and I both know you can do this…"
Sam's words were only a small amount of comfort as Dean drew in a deep and chest rising breath holding it in, locking it insides himself and trying to use it to help him force movement to his toes, trying to force something to happen… Anything to happen.
Sam sighed softly and shook his head after nearly two minutes of waiting, two minutes during which nothing had happened, two minutes during which the only change that had taken place was the amount of red increasing in Dean's cheeks as Sam watched more and more frustration take hold of him. "We'll work at it again tomorrow alright, that's enough for today."
Dean's eyes shot open, his hazel orbs begging and pleading to continue as they looked to his brother, "Just one more time Sammy…. Please."
"No." Sam shook his head and put on his best defiant face as his nostrils flared out lightly.
"Sam I know that I can do this, just once more please."
"No." Sam repeated as he rose to his feet and started getting his brother's chair ready, "You've been saying that for the last two hours man."
"Fine, I'll just do them myself." Dean's voice was as tired as his body as his words were dissected by pants for breath.
"No. Dean." Sam repeated raising his voice slightly and closing his eyes rubbing the bridge of his nose he felt a very strong headache beginning to pound behind his eyes and he was pretty sure he knew what was causing it as he opened them again and Dean's face once more came into view.
"I thought you said you were going to help me any way you could!" Dean attempted to play on his brothers guilt and previous promise, it was a low blow, a very low blow, but with any luck it would get him what he wanted which was another hour or two of work out.
"I am helping you man, but- Your working to hard, your pushing yourself and to be honest your pushing me."
Reluctantly Dean allowed his brother to help him back into his chair and it was then that he studied Sam's face not so far from his. Sam's eyes were tired, drained and sunken in around the edges, his skin was pale his lips cracked, and Dean felt pangs of guilt rising to his surface.
"You heard the doctor, you can't push to hard on this, it's not going to do you any good, these things take time, they take patience…"
"I just…." Dean closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair the image of his run down and tired baby brother carved into his eyelids, maybe he had been pushing to hard, maybe he did need to take it easy, on Sam and on himself… But Dean wasn't use to that, Dean was the kind of guy who put his eyes on the prize and then took it, without hesitation he would work and work, fight and fight until he finally had whatever it was he was striving for, there was no time to detour to any other project, no time to work on anything else… He had a very one track mind…
"What?" Sam questioned taking his brother toward the bathroom
"It's right there Sammy, it's right there, I can taste it, it's within my reach and… I can't quite grasp it, I just feel like if I push harder I can make it happen you know…" Dean felt a tinge of anger beginning to once more grow inside of himself and he tried to suppress it but knew he would fail. "The bullet is gone… so why the hell am I still trapped inside this damn thing! Why can't I just get up and walk!"
Sam frowned even as he tried not to, if there was one thing that all the doctors and the nurses had been telling him throughout this whole experience it was to be tough, to not pity Dean, to stand beside him and not behind him, in a matter of speaking of course. But sometimes it was hard, it was hard not to soften his exterior and breakdown right along side his brother, his hero.
"Time Dean, give it time…" Sam whispered as he leaned down under the sink and took out a few things he was going to need to change his brothers bag once he was done in the shower, one of the many things he was not going to miss when this whole ordeal was finally put behind them.
Dean slammed his fist into the counter without warning the anger to much to hold back anymore the loud thud causing Sam to jump and nearly smack his head on the cabinet his eyes going wide as he looked up at his brother.
"This is bullshit!" Dean growled his hand shaking as he ran it through his hair.
"Your doing fine." Sam mumbled having nothing else to say.
The only reply he was given was a snarl from the angered man's lips as he lifted him and helped him into the shower chair their bathroom had been equipped with belting him in and closing the door. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you."
Dean leaned over and turned the cold water down causing the water to scold his flesh a welcomed sensation to him as he closed his eyes each small droplet smacking into him one right after another raining down on him like fire filled tears from heaven, tears of anger like the ones he constantly felt building inside himself.
He was trying, fighting so hard…. To hard according to Sam, and he was getting no where, all the optimism the doctors had finally reinstalled inside of him he felt slipping from his veins with each passing day, each passing moment that he wasn't on his feet again.
Exhaling deep and loud he found himself traveling back to his visit with Dr. Siere, laying there on the table, the warmth of the man's hands on his skin, the tingle of hope his touch brought, and then to the memories he had relieved that day…
How helpless he had been so many times in his life, how much he had lost, how much he had to deal with, the shitty hand he had been dealt in this life… And the one person who even as a mere infant had been his only comfort, his only constancy, his only link to a normal bonding relationship… Even if he would never tell him.
Sam had been these through everything, even when he was away at Stanford, he was still there, still in Dean's thoughts everyday like a comforting old blanket to a child Sam's image would pull him through the most difficult hunt. He couldn't fail, he couldn't lose because then Sammy would be alone in this world, Sammy would be in danger without Dean there to fight off the big bads that threatened the world as it was known everyday to everyone who was not a Winchester or a hunter.
And now, these past few months had been no different, Sam had been there through Dean's struggle, stood by him, and stood for him when he could not, Sam was a vital organ in Dean's life he needed him like a person needed there lungs to breathe or their heart to beat.
And he was letting him down, The image of his brothers tired and drained face found it's way into Dean's thoughts once more and he swallowed hard forcing his eyelids to open, he was fighting hard, but he wasn't fighting alone, and fear, fear was consuming him that even with victory just in his reach he was falling short and he would never succeed in grasping it, he was still no more then a cripple…. He was still so utterly helpless…
Another grunt found it's way to Dean's lips he interrupted his own self pity party and stared down at his lower body, he could remember the strength his legs used to carry in them, the stride and confidence in his walk, he could remember the confidence he used to carry into other aspects of his life as well , a thought that he tried to bar from his mind as much as he could, the pleasure he used to give and receive to women, the joys of making love, when he was whole… And not just some half of a man. The sensation of a woman's body so closed to his….
It was all just to much.
- Sam was still cleaning up the equipment from their most recent therapy session when John pushed the front door open carrying in two white bags with the word Jimboy's scribbled across the front.
"Hey." His greeting came out half as a grunt as he hoisted the now rolled up mat against the wall before turning his full attention to his father.
"How'd it go?"
Sam shook his head, "No better then yesterday and all the days before that…" He drew his lip between his teeth and leaned back against the counter his arms dangling at his sides in a stance that to john resembled one of a defeated solider. "He's losing hope again…"
"Of course he is…" John emptied the contents of the two bags on to the counter before wading them up and tossing them into the garbage can, "But it's our job to restore it, your brother is used to working hard and being immediately rewarded, not working harder and harder and finding no results…."
"He's just… pushing to hard dad, I see it, he's breaking. I knew that that little bit of hope wasn't enough to pull him through this…"
John shook his head looking at his son and leaning next to him against the counter, "He's going to be alright Sam."
The confidence in his fathers simple statement was astounding to Sam as he looked over and blinked a few times, "How, how can you be so sure?"
"Because I know your brother… And I know you, and although we all might of lost our way for a while, I have to believe that we've found it again."
"I just, I don't understand… Why this is happening, the bullet is gone, and he's still so… trapped, so helpless, and he's getting more and more frustrated, all I can keep saying it, time Dean, give it time, and he's getting sick of hearing it…."
"You boy's never did have much patience." John smirked a little. "That comes from your mother."
"Dad I'm serious…"
- Dean's thoughts had given way to a restless and fitful slumber with the passing minutes he found himself deeper and deeper into a dream… a nightmare surrounding his memories.
A blood curdling scream fills his ears the only light surrounding him the dim glow of an over head street lamp, his surroundings all to familiar to him as he swallows the lump in his throat hoping in vein for the reward of a single breath to enter his lungs.
Everything is moving in slow motion as he turns to see his brother, his Sammy crumbling to the ground and landing face first on to the asphalt. Tears stream from his eyes, "No…Sammy, No…." He can hear his broken voice echoing into the still night air as he kneels down and scoops up his brothers form cradling him against his chest, his flesh cold to the touch.
"Dean…" the single word sends a chill up Dean's spine so soft so lifeless as it lingers on Sam's lips.
"I'm here Sammy… I'm right here…." Confusion begins to cloud Dean's mind as a pool of blood begins to bathe him, his brother's blood, Winchester blood from the wrong Winchester….
"Help… Me…"
"I-I can't…" The words are a choked sob as rain begins to pour now mixing with the thick rich red liquid and attempting to wash it away, but the more rain that came, the more blood there was to mix with it….
"Don't let me die….Please…." The light fading in his puppy dog, pleading eye's Sam stared coldly at his brother his breaths growing fewer and fewer… "This is your fault, you should have saved me… It…. It was yours… "
Dean clutched tighter to the body in his arms his hands shaking as he buried his face in to the now soaking wet brown mane of his brother, "I'm sorry…. It wasn't supposed to happen like this…. That wasn't- I was supposed to save you, protect you Sammy….. I'm sorry."
"Your bullet…." Sam's words were clear and painful as he took in his last heaving breath before his body stilled and his chest seized to rise again.
"Sammy…..Sammy…. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Dean's eyes flew open his body jerking forcefully back into reality as he gasped for breath and stared wide eyed at his surroundings snapping his head around and gagging on vomit in his throat, it was the same dream he had so many nights after his accident, with the same vivd and lasting images lingering inside of him, reminding him of what could have been…. The dream, the nightmare that he had never spoken to a soul about. With another deep intake of breath he leaned back further into the chair and ran his hand over his face when he dropped it again his eyes were red and swollen….
Dean Winchester was crying.
Thank you so much for your replies to fourteen! I hope that you like this one just as much, as always let me in on your thoughts, the good the bad and the indifferent, I want it all… I hope none of you are to disappointed.