A/N: Ok a very special shout out goes to IHeartSam7 and SciFiDiva. *waves* Thanks so much guys! Without their help I think I'd still be stuck worrying about the last chapter. I know this one's been a little while in coming. The holidays really threw me. So it's a little slower but I think it needs to be. Thanks for coming back if you're a return reader and thanks for stopping by if you're a new one.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini. Oh and all "original" characters. But if I did….
X x X x X x X x X
"Lyssa?"
Her eyes rolled up into her head. She pitched forward.
"Lyssa!" He was moving before he even realized it catching her before she hit the ground. The right leg of her jeans was soaked. A thick puddle oozed on the step where she'd been standing. Wisps of hair curled around her temples dark and sticky with sweat making her look even paler in the fluorescent light. He tapped her face. No response.
"Hey." He shook her. Again nothing. He pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, held his breath. Pulse was there. Weak but steady. His breath came out in a rush.
Hopsital. Gotta get to a hospital.
He stood, ran around to the back of the R.V. hoping beyond hope that his Jeep was still drivable. He skidded to a halt, panic seizing him, when he saw the busted hitch.
No no no no.
He looked over his shoulder at the little red car that continued to purr even with its hood crushed in.
X x X x X x X x X
Johnny O'Brien sat behind the desk at the E.R. nurses station. The night was quiet. Most nights were. The two other nurses on shift with him were already making rounds.
Johnny loved the quiet. He let it wash over him as he stared at the wall daydreaming. He jumped when he heard the emergency room doors slam open.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
He was out of the chair and on his feet in a heartbeat. He slammed his hand on the all-call button as he rounded the desk out into the hall.
Johnny made it through the door just in time to see the guy fall to his knees. He looked like he'd been put through the wringer but the girl he was holding, pale and disturbingly limp, really worried him. Since he was the only one up front when the guy came in he was the first to reach him.
He dropped down on one knee so he'd be eye to eye with the guy who was rocking back and forth. Shit. Must be his kid.
He reached out. "Can I take a look?"
The guy gazed at him eyes unfocused. He thought maybe the guy wasn't going to let her go. The grief in those eyes made Johnny's throat constrict in sympathy. Behind him came the sound of a gurney crashing through the doors, shoes slapping on the linoleum.
"Let me help you." He said quietly. The guy nodded. Johnny swept the girl up and onto the gurney. The resident on call pressed his fingertips to her neck.
"What happened?" Doc Munro asked.
"Car accident." The guy replied but Johnny could see by his demeanor there was something else.
"Got a pulse. Let's go people!"
The guy jumped up to follow. Johnny put a hand on his chest. He was trembling like he'd been juiced but he was crashing fast.
"I have to go with her."
"Doc Munro's got her she'll be fine."
"I go where she goes." The guy tried to push past him. He was pretty big and the way he was standing made Johnny think he was used to throwing his weight around. Thing was Johnny's no midget himself. That was why they liked him on the night shift. He gently but firmly grabbed the guys arm.
"You're a mess. You need to be looked at man." The guy started posturing up, like maybe he wanted to throw a punch. Johnny prayed the guy wouldn't hit him. He already looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a brick wall and Johnny didn't want to have to add to that.
Then like he'd altogether had enough he dropped his shoulders. In a calm, quiet voice he spoke never taking his eyes from Johnny's.
"Look uh…,"
"Johnny." He supplied.
"Johnny. I'm Sam. Please understand. That little girl is all I have in the world and I mean that in the most absolute of terms. If something happens to her it won't matter what's wrong with me. When I'm sure she's fine you can poke me and prod me as much as you want. So I'm going and I'm hoping maybe you'll help me because I am bone tired and I really don't feel like fighting any more tonight."
Johnny searched the guys face. He looked exhausted, scared, and desperate. Johnny knew desperate. He let Sam's arm go.
"I'm probably going to get in big trouble for this but what the hell. Only live once right? Come on."
He lead the guy back through the emergency room proper then through a set of swinging doors to where the operating rooms were located. He took the guy into the O.R. adjoining the one his kid was in, showed him the door with the large plate glass window that separated them.
"You can look through here. Don't go in there though man. Seriously. Doc Munro's the best. He'll pull her through."
"Thank you."
"Yeah. Ok. I'm going to come looking for you later. Make sure you get cleaned up." He said but the guy wasn't listening anymore. He left shutting the door behind him.
X x X x X x X x X
Sam sat vigil over the quiet, still form on the hospital bed. He sat legs spread, elbows and knees mirrored angles, chin resting on fisted hands. At first glance it would seem that he was simply lost in thought. However if someone passing by had stopped and looked closer they might have noticed the raw tension vibrating through his entire frame. Jaw locked tight, knuckles bleached, the muscles in his forearms and biceps bunched to the point that they strained the fabric of his hospital shirt.
He sat and he stared as the last thing in the world that tethered him to some semblance of life lay broken on the bed. He wasn't used to feeling helpless anymore. It sat badly in his stomach and the constant beep, beep, beep of the monitors, the insistent hiss of the oxygen, though reassuring, was slowly driving him insane.
She wasn't comatose, they told him, just very deeply asleep. He closed his eyes when they started to burn. It had been such a long time since he'd cried. Seemed like the past couple days it was all he'd done.
He stirred, stitches tugged. He eyed the enormous bandage on Lyssa's right leg. Her first scar and it was going to be a nasty one. The official stitch count was 56. Damn thing ran from her knee almost to her hip.
He remembered distinctly the last time Lyssa had been in the hospital, twelve years ago, when she was born. He remembered staring at her through a window, waiting to be let into the little nursery. His brother had been there. Dean had been surprisingly supportive despite the fact that he felt Sam and Leeanna were making an epic mistake.
"World's going to hell in a hand basket," Dean used to say. "Why bring another life into this mess?"
That day however he'd been quiet, contemplative almost. They'd stood there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the tiny, pink covered bundle that was Lyssa. Finally Dean had shrugged and asked, "Well, how do you feel?"
"Truthfully? I'm scared shitless." He had answered. The fear he'd felt then was nothing compared to what he felt now.
Heart in his throat he whispered "Lyssa? Lyssa baby it's time to wake up." His voice came out thick and cracked. He didn't expect to get a response. He hadn't in over 48 hours.
He leaned forward, put his elbows on the bed and gently lifted her hand rubbing the back with his thumb willing her to wake up.
He could shoot the wings off a fly, could kill a man with his bare hands. He could even exorcise demons with his mind but he couldn't fight this. This unknown thing.
And the stasis was becoming a damn near unendurable torture. Feeling like he did in the heat of a hunt, like he had to do something, like if he didn't his heart might stop beating.
A knock on the door jarred him from his introspection. He reached instinctively for a weapon that wasn't there. Slowly he turned toward the door.
"Oh jeez sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I tried calling your name but you didn't answer." A petite brunette stepped into the room. She was holding a volunteer pass and a magazine.
"Mr. Winchester?"
He nodded.
"Hi. Well, okay so I'm Sandy Tucker and this is my daughter Emma we volunteer here at the hospital as sit-ins. Basically we come in and sit with patients so that their family members can have a little break. I usually work here in peeds so if you want to check me out you can call and ask. The ladies at the nurse's station said you haven't eaten or slept for a while. If you want I could sit for you. Long enough for a trip to the caff anyway. I know how hard this must be. I had to do it once with Emma. Oh jeez here I'm just rambling again. Bad habit. Runs in the family." She laughed. Shuffled her feet.
Over the years he'd to learned to read people. This woman felt safe. Still he would have very politely declined if not for the elfin child grasping her hand, snowy blond hair plaited neatly down her back.
The girl smiled at him. Not shy, no, with a sweet, tiny smirk like she knew a secret.
"You were at the park the other day."
"Yes I was." He said one eyebrow cocked.
She nodded turning serious. "You caught my ball."
"So I did."
"I'll talk to her for you. Sometimes it helps you know."
He smiled but he knew it didn't reach his eyes. "I had heard that."
Emma let go of her mother's hand and walked around to the other side of the bed.
"I'm not sure I want to leave yet but I wouldn't mind some company." He gestured at Sandy to pull up the other chair. "I can't stay turned for too long. It's pulling my stitches."
She pulled it even with his so he could relax.
"So how old is Emma." He asked even though he already knew the answer.
"She's eight but her birthday's coming up."
Emma leaned in close to Lyssa's ear and Sam could hear her whispering.
"Does she come with you often to sit in?"
"Sometimes. She was really insistent today though. It was actually kind of weird. I mean she passed on a movie to come. She kept saying we were late over and over in the car…no wait…that's not right. She said we were going to be too late but we're volunteers so we don't have set schedules."
"Huh. She do stuff like that often?"
"Well, you know kids. They all do weird stuff now and again." She fidgeted, dropped her gaze. In the background Emma continued to whisper.
Emma glanced up at him. Something inside him burned and for a moment he was lost in those pale blue eyes. She didn't blink. His own eyes begin to water and he realized neither had he.
"Emma. It's not polite to stare." Her mother admonished in a shaky voice.
He crashed back into himself and it was all suddenly too much. He stood abruptly knocking his chair over and startling Sandy in the process.
"Are you ok? Em. Back up a little."
"No! No, she's fine. I… I just. I think I'll take you up on that trip to the cafeteria if you still don't mind staying that is."
She looked relieved. "I don't mind at all. We'll take good care of her for you. Take as long as you need Mr. Winchester."
He flashed another weak smile. "Sam. You can call me Sam and thanks. Really."
He turned, had to force himself not to run from the room.
X x X x X x X x X
It was dark. So dark where she was. She had no real concept of time but she knew she'd been here awhile. She could hear her dad crying sometimes. Soft little sobs. He talked to her but she couldn't answer. Not out loud, she wanted to but something was stopping her.
Part of her liked it here in the quiet dark. It was safe and she didn't have to be scared. Didn't have to worry about whether or not her dad was coming home.
But the other part really wanted to reach out and tell him she was ok. She wasn't going anywhere. He didn't have to cry like his heart was breaking.
She tried to come out. But the darkness was heavy and wouldn't budge.
She was beginning to get worried. Then she heard a new voice, this one high pitched and soothing. A child's voice. With it came the light.
"Lyssa." It whispered. Colors pierced the dark and she felt like she was floating. Floating so high.
Then the dark was pulling at her again. Dragging her down. She started to fight, reaching for the light.
"Come out. It's time for you to come out."
"Who are you?" A soft giggle. More light. More rainbows chasing the dark away. Slicing through it till it let her go.
"Come on out and see. Come on. Come on." The voice urged.
She pushed up, up. Harder, faster.
"You can do it. Your daddy's real worried. Wake up!"
Her eyelids fluttered open. It took her a minute to focus. She looked around the room.
Next to the bed, on the right, was a woman. Her mouth a perfect little "O". On the left was the girl from her dreams.
"Nurse! Nurse!" The woman yelled. But all her attention was focused for the time being on the girl next to her.
"How did you know my name?" Lyssa whispered. Or did she? She didn't remember opening her mouth. The girl answered her anyway.
"I know lots of things."
X x X x X x X x X
After making his way to the men's room and scrubbing his face at the sink Sam found himself sitting by a window in the tiny waiting room at the end of the hall. He sipped bitter, overheated coffee from a Styrofoam cup.
Once his pulse had stopped racing and he'd gotten his breathing under control he followed the hall back to Lyssa's room.
If the scene that had made him leave had caused his heart to speed up what greeted him on his return was enough to give him a full on heart attack. There were doctors and nurses everywhere. Monitors screeched, flat red lines streamed across black screens.
God no.
He couldn't see past the throng of bodies pressed together around the bed. Fear lanced through him and he pushed into them expecting the worst.
Relief tore a breath from him when he saw Lyssa sitting upright on the bed. She looked around frantically the oxygen hose that had been in her nose dangling forgotten from one ear. The wires leading to the barrage of machines by the side of the bed were scattered in shreds and she'd yanked out her I.V.. It poured fluid on the pale blue tile.
Several nurses were trying to get her to lie back down. He gently but firmly moved them out of his way.
"Dad?" she croaked.
He reached down and scooped her up into his arms. She buried her head against his chest.
"Daddy?" She whispered her breath dampening his shirt.
"Yes sweetheart?" He replied his voice thick.
"Get me out of here."
"What? Right now?"
She looked up at him pleading with her eyes. "Right now."
The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.
"Ok baby." That was it. No thought just action. Action and instinct. He strode past the group of people surrounding the bed.
"Hey!"
Someone grabbed him.
"Where are you going? You can't just leave."
He shook the hand off.
"Somebody stop him. Call secur—"
He stopped and stared them down one at a time. "Stop me? Go ahead and try."