People Are Strange
Chapter Three
John had never been in a predicament quite like this before.
On the one hand, his eldest son was lying in a hospital bed - completely out of his reach, with God only knew what injuries.
On the other hand, his youngest son, his baby, had gone missing after he had sent him to a hospital alone to get help. Because he didn't want to leave Dean, because he felt guilty for getting the eleven-year-old hurt.
He should have known better than to take Sammy on a hunt. The boy was too young, despite his profound intelligence and complex understanding of what it was the Winchester's did for a living. He was still just a little boy, with little boys instincts and reactions.
And Dean, God bless his little soldier, was nothing if not Sammy's protector.
So really, he should have known that taking Sammy on a hunt would do nothing except distract his elder, and put them all in immediate danger.
His stubborn belief that he could control everything had won out in the end, though, and all three Winchester men had gone hunting together; and a relatively simple tangle with an angry spirit had proved disastrous.
So when he finally encountered Dr. Hogan, a stout black man with a deep frown and a face full of years and years of worry lines, he wasn't really sure what to say first.
He figured, though, he'd get a quicker response out of the doctor about his injured son, so he went with that. "Dean?" He questioned. "How's my son?"
All the worry and impatience was there, but Dr. Hogan just smiled slightly, taking decades away from his appearance and relieving a little of the weight that had settled in John's stomach.
"Your son's going to be just fine." John stood about a head taller than this man, but felt now like his life was at his mercy.
"Fine?" The ex-Marine choked out disbelievingly. "Fine? He stopped breathing."
"True," he nodded easily, "Your son suffered blunt force trauma to the abdomen. You said he fell down the stairs?"
John nodded absently and the doctor went on, believing his fabrication.
"It must have been quite a bad fall. It caused intense trauma to one of his lungs."
"Oh, god," John rasped, not remembering Dr. Hogan's earlier words of he's fine. He just heard the truth behind the situation as a whole; he could have died.
"He's fine now," the older man assured again, catching John's eye and nodding. "We did a minor surgery as soon as he got here, and there was next to no lasting damage, he's breathing on his own now. We want to keep him a few nights for observation just to make sure no infection sets in, and he'll have to take it easy for a few weeks, take some antibiotics, but after that, he'll be good as new."
John took a few moments to absorb that. Good as new. He thought vaguely that he'd never heard words as sweet as that. He let out a long breath, and the doctor sensed his relief. "You've got a strong, kid, Mr. Winchester." He complimented.
John just smiled - that he already knew. "Is he awake now? Can I see him?"
"You can see him," Dr. Hogan nodded, "But he's still unconscious from the pain medication we had to give him." Seeing panic flare up in John again, he quickly assured, "He should be awake within the hour, he may be a little out of it, but nothing to worry about."
"Alright. So he's fine?" Dr. Hogan nodded again and John ran a hand through his hair placing the other hand on the wall next to him, using it as a temporary support. Then, when he felt ready to take more news, he took a deep breath and asked, "And Sam?"
Dr. Hogan, who had been looking down at one of those little clipboards that doctors always seemed to always be carrying, looked up at this, tilting his head slightly, eyes baffled. "Sam?"
John's heart fell.
If the hospital hallway had been quiet, they probably would have heard the hollow slosh of it hitting the bottom of his stomach.
He felt like he'd been sucker punched, in the goddamn balls, but he still managed to bite out angrily, "Yeah, my other son. The seven-year-old that got an ambulance sent to our motel room."
The doctor's expression remained dumbfounded, and John exploded. "The lady-" he gestured frantically to the lobby and the reception desk. "She said you would know!"
"I...I'm sorry, sir," he shook his head, looking rueful and a whole lot of other things John didn't have the ability to process right then. "But, I've never seen your son before."
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"Okay, so we all understand the plan, right?" Cal spoke in a hushed tone that even Sam could tell was more for show than actual sneakiness.
Three new strangers nodded in unison. The red-head, Sam remembered was called Annie, because it reminded him of the Little Orphan Annie book Dean had read him.
Far from portraying the innocent little girl in the story though, this Annie wore her hair not in braids, but in a straight line down her back. Her black outfit - similar to Cal's, only tighter- made the dangling thing in her belly button sparkle abnormally.
She was the first to respond to that, rolling her eyes impatiently at Cal, "Stop being a Drama Queen," she ordered in a normal tone. "This is gonna be cake, the security at this place is for shit."
"If it's so shitty than why couldn't you get the security card last month?" Dee-Dee, another girl, around the same age as Cal and Annie, spoke up this time. Dee-Dee had taken an immediate liking to Sam, in much the same way most of Sam's school teachers and baby-sitters did - Dean always blamed it on the dimple.
Dee-Dee, however, seemed to take it to the next level of adoration, and Sam wasn't sure weather to be annoyed or frightened of her cajoling tone. Her long, straight, nearly waist-length brown hair swung around freely as she gestured to Sam. "And do you have to say shit in front of him?"
She bent down so that she was almost eye-level with the seven-year-old. "Shit is a bad word." She said slowly. "Okay, honey?"
"He's not two," Annie snarked, grabbing Dee-Dee's attention away before Sam could decide how he wanted to respond to that. "Stop talking to him like he's baby."
"Not everyone has parental issues, Anne," the long-haired girl quipped back, "Don't take it out on him."
"And not everyone sucked on a binky 'til they were five," Annie sounded bitter. "Grow up."
Dee-Dee opened her mouth to respond, but the third stranger, the only male in the group other than Cal, interrupted. "Can't we all just get along," he drawled in a sing-song voice.
Sam had been immediately attracted to this stranger - Kenny. Something about his personality, it was just very open, a little like his big brother, in his opinion. Sam trusted him at once, even though he seemed to be much older than Cal, Dee-Dee and Annie. Not to mention the hair - he had a lot of hair. So much hair that it was almost comical- he had it on his face - like Sam's dad in the winter only much more - and his regular hair was as long as Dee-Dee's, only a whole lot bushier.
He was also the only one totally clad in Tie-dye. Tie-dye shirt, headband, and jeans with so many paint splatters that they might as well get put in the same category. Even his beard seemed to have random spots of color in it.
Sam defiantly liked this man.
Annie, on the other hand, just rolled bright green eyes and said, "Go smoke a bowl."
"Ah, now," Kenny looked saddened. "That's not nice."
"You are a pot-head, my friend," Cal cut back into the conversation. "But that's not the point. If you'd all get past your petty bickering, you could focus on our main objective."
"Then we can all board the mother-ship," Annie interrupted, doing that eye-rolling thing again. "Just talk normal, dude."
"Why don't you just stop being a bitch?" Dee-Dee asked, fake innocently, and Annie's eyes narrowed.
"Uh," Kenny cut in, "I hate to interrupt this cat-fight," he looked at Annie and Dee-Dee, who seemed to squaring off like they were about to attack each other, "Really hate to. But, uh, don't ya think maybe someone, at some point, is gonna come looking for the kid?"
All eyes went to Sam, and he felt himself go red. He hated attention.
"How many people are looking for you, Sam?" Cal asked in a calm tone.
The little boy shrugged. "Dr. Dave. My dad if he's here," Sam shrugged again. "I duuno, I just wanna find Dean."
"Who?" One of the girls questioned.
"His brother." Cam explained for him. "I told him I'd find him if he helped us out."
"And how are you gonna do that?" Annie demanded, and Sam's attention went right to Cal.
So far these strangers had been alright. Nice, even. Mostly. But if they weren't going to be able to find his brother...
"I've still got the code for the patient data bank," the shaggy-haired man tossed back easily, and Sam was relieved. He sounded pretty sure of himself.
"They change that." Annie countered.
"Every three weeks," he argued back. "I only got fired last Tuesday."
"Seriously, though," Kenny talked and all eyes - except Sam's - lowered a little. The older man was shorter than the other three. "Someone is gonna come looking for the squirt."
"Fine," Annie acknowledged him and turned to Sam. "You remember what you gotta do?"
Sam was going to answer, but again was interrupted.
"Do you really wanna make him do this?" Dee-Dee was chewing on her bottom lip, brown eyes darting from Sam, to Cal, to the far-away entrance to the hospital and back again. "One of us-"
"Security knows all of us." Annie cut in. "Kenny here's not even technically allowed within a hundred square feet of the place, and Allen didn't show. We're damn lucky we found Sam when we did, otherwise we'd all be up a shit creek without a paddle, and you know it. This is planned down the last detail, and we have to get it right. The van's parked around the corner and we don't have much time before it gets towed."
"Yeah, but-"
"Look," Cal sold his point this time. "He'll go in, swipe the security card, and get out. No one'll even notice him."
"What if someone does?"
"What if someone doesn't?" Kenny countered Dee-Dee, and both seemed stuck in their own logic.
"It's just so risky," she sighed.
"No, it's risky to stand here and have this conversation for another hour." Cal barked. "Because then someone up there
with half a brain will think to look down here for him, and our whole mission, our whole purpose, will just go up in flames. Do you want that?"
Sam didn't notice the other's reactions, he was taken aback by Cal's outburst. Particularly the words up in flames. Sam didn't like flames.
"Fine," Cal spoke to the group after a dew beats, and then again to Sam. "You remember what to do?"
Sam nodded, his brief flash of fear gone and forgotten. "Take the elevator up to the eleventh floor, go down the hallway with all the closed doors until I see the one that's wide open with a bunch of TV's in it."
"Good," Cal nodded atheistically, and Sam felt a rush of pride. "Then..."
"Then go to any of the long, white coats hanging on the wall and take the plastic card out of the pocket. It'll look like a driver's license?"
Cal nodded, "With a picture."
"With a picture," Sam agreed. "And bring it back here."
"Right-O," Cal grinned and held up his hand. Sam gave him a high-five and smiled too. This was fun.
"Now remember," he added after their triumph, "If you see any doctors, they're gonna want to do the same thing that Dr. Dave was gonna do. Make you sleep so you can't see Dean."
"I don't wanna sleep." Sam said solemnly. "I don't like doctors. I won't let any see me."
Kenny chimed in with a proud, "Good for you. Fight the man."
"Alright," Cal took a deep breath, patting Sam's shoulder once. "Get going."
As soon as Sam started to turn around, a thought hit him and he looked back at Cal. "What if I see my dad or Dean?"
"You won't." Annie answered for him, but Sam ignored her, eyes fixed on Cal.
"Forget about us and stay with them." Dee-Dee provided her answer, and Cal smiled, a little sadly, when he heard it.
"Yeah," he nodded his agreement. "Don't tell them about us, but you stay with your family if you find them. I really don't think you will, though."
"Okay." Sam nodded and decided that was enough questions. He put on his fight face and started towards the elevator doors once again.
This adventure would lead him back to his brother, and Sam was beyond certain that he was doing the right thing.
TBC...
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A/N: Insert dramatic music here, huh? Sounds like things for little Sammy may not be looking so good. All thoughts on the matter most welcome - just hit that little button and sing your woes, praises, questions, comments or concerns.