Fell on Black Days—Chapter Two
The waiting room TV whispered quietly in the background, adding to the hum of the busy hospital. Sam had been in surgery for hours now, hours that Dean had spent pacing the small room. Garth had tried to get him to settle but he couldn't. There was too much on Dean's mind. Dean couldn't remember what had led to Sam being shot and Garth had yet to tell him.
Garth sat in the chair by the TV, fiddling with his wallet. Every now and again he would look up at Dean and wonder whether to tell him just how bad things were before Sam was shot.
"Dean," Garth said.
Dean spun on his heel. "Yeah?"
"He's gonna be all right."
"You don't know that," Dean said.
"Well no, but I know Sam, and he's a fighter. He'll pull through."
Dean wanted to tell Garth to shut the hell up but he couldn't. Garth looked fragile as it was, and Dean knew it wouldn't take much to break him.
"How much longer you think?" Dean asked. "It's been hours."
"Dean, about what happened back there, with Sam, the things you said—"
There was a knock and Dean looked over to see a tired looking doctor standing in the doorway. "Mr. Hudson?"
"Yeah. How is he?"
"He's out of surgery and doing well considering. The bullet entered at an angle, and unfortunately we had to remove his left kidney."
"But he's going to be all right?" Dean asked.
The doctor was quiet for a moment. "He's a fighter. He's in the ICU right now, but I think he's going to recover fully."
Garth breathed a sigh of relief. "When can we see him?"
"He won't be awake for a few more hours. Why don't you guys get some coffee and something to eat while you wait?"
"No, I want to see him now."
The doctor furrowed his brow. "I assure you he's in good hands."
"I don't care. I need to be there when he wakes."
The doctor looked at him for a moment and then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally he waved a hand in the air, shaking his head. "It's against regulations, but I suppose we can make an exception. Follow me."
The doctor led them to the ICU.
"I'll have the nurse bring in another chair," the doctor said before leaving the room.
"Thanks, doc," Garth said.
Dean looked over Sam. He didn't look any better than the last time he saw him, in fact, he looked worse.
He was shirtless, and his stomach and part of his side was covered in gauze. There were tubes coming off of him in all directions, and the only thing Dean could think was how thankful he was his brother was still alive. He didn't know what he would do without him. He was a part of him.
Garth watched Dean as he dragged one of the chairs over and sat down beside the bed. Carefully, Dean took Sam's hand and placed it in his own. Dean's head fell in a bow and he sat silently.
There was a knock at the door and a moment later a nurse popped in dragging a chair. Garth shot up and went over to help her.
"Here, let me," Garth said with a smile.
The nurse smiled back at him. "Thanks," she said. She looked over at Dean and Sam and then back at Garth. "Why don't I get you guys some coffee?"
"Thanks, that would be great," Garth said.
The nurse left the room and Garth pulled the chair over to the window. He took a seat and watched Dean, wondering just how he was going to tell him the horrible things he'd said.
Sam's hand felt limp and cold in Dean's. Dean rested his head against the bedrail and closed his eyes, trying to imagine just what he had said and done to Sam before the shooting. It was like a bad dream. A lot of bad things had happened to them in the past, but he never thought that he would be the reason Sam was lying in a hospital bed, shot and missing a kidney.
There was a knock at the door and the nurse came in carrying two cups of coffee. Garth jumped to his feet to take the cups from her, smiling broadly as he did.
"Thanks for taking such good care of us," Garth said.
"He should be waking any time now," she said, walking over to the IV stand and checking the bag. "I'll be back in a bit to change this out. If he wakes before that, let me know. We don't want him in any pain."
"Thanks, darling," Dean said.
Dean watched the clock. It seemed like time was moving even slower the more it passed. It had been an hour since the nurse had been in, and Dean was beginning to worry. Sam hadn't even stirred.
"Garth," Dean said, looking over his shoulder at him.
"Yeah, Dean."
"What happened back there?" Dean asked.
Garth sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I don't think there's any good way to tell you."
"Well, try," Dean snapped. "Spit it out."
Garth go up and began pacing the room. Dean watched his every move like a hawk.
Garth stopped in the middle of the room and spun to face Dean. "You might have blamed him for some stuff."
"What stuff?"
"Well, everything really. Demon blood, the apocalypse, being soulless."
Dean felt sick at what he was hearing. "Is there more?"
Garth shrugged. "Well, you did shoot him."
"Why?" Dean asked.
"I don't know, man. You told Sam that he'd left you to die over a girl and then you got all crazy with the gun, started waving it about. I tackled you and the gun went off."
"So it was an accident?" Dean asked, a feeling of relief coming over him.
Garth shrugged. "Maybe, but you were pointing it at him."
Dean raked a hand over his face. "I can't believe this is all happening."
"Look, Dean, it wasn't your fault. It was the penny."
"Yeah, but I let it control me. I should have fought it."
Garth shook his head. "Dean, man, you can't fight something like that."
"You did. I saw you pick up the penny. It didn't affect you."
"That's because I don't hold grudges," Garth explained. "I let it all roll off."
The hand in Dean's twitched, making him jump. He looked over at Sam and saw him beginning to stir.
"Sam?" Dean said, giving his hand a squeeze. "You with me?"
Sam's brows knitted together and he groaned. His mouth felt dry and his eyelids were heavy. He tried to move but his limbs seemed stiff. He flexed his toes and moved his fingers. At least those were working.
As his mind began to clear the pain began to seep in. His whole midsection hurt. He went to move his hands, to feel his side, but something, someone, was holding his wrists.
"Easy, Sam," Dean said. "You don't want to pull your stitches."
"Hurts," Sam managed.
"I know. Garth is getting the nurse. She'll give you some of the good stuff, okay?"
"'kay," Sam murmured. It really wasn't okay. It hurt like hell.
Garth followed the nurse back into the room.
She went straight to Sam's side and began checking him over.
"He said it hurts," Dean supplied.
The nurse nodded and disappeared out the room, only to reappear a moment later with a syringe. She injected the contents into the port on the IV, and within moments, Sam was relaxing.
"He needs to rest," she said. "Why don't you guys head home for the night? We'll take good care of him. I promise."
The idea of leaving Sam was abhorrent to Dean. He was just about to object when Garth spoke up.
"Yeah, I think we'll do that," Garth said. "We could all use a little rest."
Dean shot Garth a look that could kill. Garth just shook his head.
"Well, just leave your number at the nurse's station so we can call you if anything changes."
"Will do, ma'am," Garth said a bit too brightly.
As soon as she left the room, Dean charged over to Garth and grabbed him by the jacket. "What the hell was that about?" Dean snapped. "You want to leave him here?"
Garth put his hands up. "Easy, Dean. I don't need you choking me twice in one day."
"Out with it, Garth. What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that we both need showers, and Sam's going to be doped up the rest of the night. We might as well get rested while we can."
Dean shoved him back. He jabbed a finger into Garth's chest. "Don't you ever think you can tell me what to do. I'm staying here with Sam, and that's the end of it."
"Okay, I'll bring you back a change of clothes in the morning, all right?"
"Yeah, whatever," Dean said, waving him off. "Just go."
xXx
Sam awoke the next morning to a nurse poking at him.
"Morning, sunshine," she said brightly. "It's good to see you awake."
Sam licked at his lips. "Thirsty."
"Hang on a sec, and I'll get you some water," she said.
A moment later, she reappeared in his vision holding a cup with a straw.
She placed the straw at his lips, and Sam drank greedily.
After he got his fill, he rested his head back down on the pillow. "Thank you."
"No problem," she said. "How the pain level?"
"Good," Sam said. "I mean I'm not in pain."
"That's good to hear," she said. "You woke a few times during the night."
"I did?" Sam said. "I don't remember."
"You were pretty out of it," she explained. "We seem to have gotten your pain under control now though. It should help you get some rest."
The nurse reached over and grabbed the call button and set it closer to Sam. "If you need me just press this button here, all right?"
Sam nodded. "Thanks."
"You get some rest."
As soon as the nurse left Sam noticed just how empty the room was. There was no Dean, no Garth. He was alone. He thought that maybe Dean would have been there, or at least come to check on him. He wondered if Dean had even followed him to the hospital or if he had just taken off in the Impala, needing to get away.
The door to the room creaked open and Sam tensed. He relaxed when Garth's familiar face peeked in.
"Hey there, Sam," Garth said brightly, stepping into the room. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the chair beside the bed, taking a seat.
Garth was relieved to see Sam awake. He had been worried sick. Dean had called him from the hospital early in the morning. He told him about Sam's fitful sleep and how he'd stayed up through the night with him.
"How are you feeling, Sam?"
Sam looked over at Garth and smiled weakly. "I'm okay. Bit thirsty though. Can you pass me that cup?"
Garth grabbed the cup. It was empty, so he refilled it from the pitcher of water on the nightstand. He moved to bring the cup to Sam's lips, but Sam stopped him.
"I'm not an invalid."
Garth smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're not."
Sam took the cup and brought it up to his mouth with a shaky hand. He still wasn't feeling completely himself, but he was better than he had been when he first woke.
Garth watched him ready to offer assistance if needed, but Sam managed fine. When he was finished, Garth took the cup and placed it back on the side table.
"Thanks," Sam said, laying his head back on the pillow.
"You all right, Sam?" Garth asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About anything good?"
Sam shrugged. Garth was a good guy but he wasn't about to open up to him about everything on his mind.
Garth studied him for a moment too long, and it made Sam squirm. It was like Garth was trying to read his mind, and for a second, Sam worried he was.
"Garth?"
"Hmmm?"
"You're staring."
Garth shrugged a shoulder. "You're wondering about Dean."
Sam tilted his head, looking Garth over carefully, wondering if maybe Garth did in fact have some hidden power. But either way, Sam didn't want to talk. He looked away, not wanting to risk Garth seeing the pain on his features.
"I think I'm going to take a nap."
"Sam, Dean is—"
"Just don't. I don't want to know."
"But Sam—"
Sam snapped his gaze back to Garth and glared at him. "I said I don't want to know. I get it. He doesn't want to be here. He made that clear enough."
"Would you stop being such a damned idjit for a minute and listen to what I've got to say?"
Sam clenched his hands into fists and looked away again. Garth seemed determined to make him face the truth no matter how much he didn't want to do it.
The door creaked open, and both he and Garth looked up. Dean stepped in the room, freshly showered and shaved.
Garth breathed a sigh of relief. Sam may not listen to him, but he sure as hell couldn't ignore his brother. Dean had a way of making people listen.
"Sleeping beauty awakes," Dean said with a smile as he walked over to Sam's bedside. Garth got up and made room for Dean to sit.
"How you feeling, princess?"
Sam wasn't feeling that great honestly, but he wasn't about to admit that to Dean. "All right."
Dean nodded. "Good. I talked to the doctor. He said you should be out of here within the week."
Sam looked down at his hands which were picking at the hem of the blanket. "So …"
"So?" Dean asked.
"Why are you here?"
Dean face went tight. He looked at Sam like he had just sprouted another head. "Because you were shot," he said slowly. "Where else would I be?"
Sam shrugged. "Never mind."
"Sam?"
Garth walked over and patted Dean on the back. He could see how upset Sam was becoming and rallied for a change of subject. "So I got us a place. I called around and found a cabin about three hours from here. It's a bit of a drive but it should be worth it."
Dean looked over at Garth and shook his head before bringing his gaze back to Sam. "Sam, we need to talk about this."
"Dean, I just … We don't need to talk about it, okay? I get it."
Dean looked at him carefully. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."