Sorry for the delay. Been a pinch busy. Just a short little drabble here. More to come!
"Dean."
The quiet voice sounded familiar. It wasn't Dad. It wasn't Sam.
"Dean."
"Bobby?" I mumbled, lifting my head from my hand. The room seemed too bright as I tried to focus on Bobby's face.
"Yeah, it's me." Bobby said quietly. He was crouched down in front of me, face drawn with concern. "You two look like crap."
Shifting uncomfortably on the cold floor, I didn't need a mirror to know he was right. I said, "You got here fast."
"It's been almost an hour since you called me, Dean." His tone was as worried as his face. He touched my shoulder, "You shouldn't even be out of bed, should you?"
"I'm alive. I'm fine." I said, not even trying to sound convincing. An hour? Had it really been that long?
Bobby snorted and said, "Sure you are. You're the same color as the shirt you're wearing." He glanced to my right, then looked back at me. "And he's not any better."
I blinked, shifted and realized he was right. Sam's eyes were still closed, his face tear-stained and pale. Head back against the wall, breathing finally evened out, it looked like he'd fallen asleep at some point. Couldn't say it surprised me. I was taking a wild guess that he hadn't slept more than a few minutes at a time since the accident.
"We gonna skip the part where you tell me what happened?" Bobby asked.
"I don't know what happened, Bobby." I said irritably. "They say I was in a coma. Docs can't explain it. All I remember is waking up feeling like I was choking to death."
"And your dad?" His eyes softened.
I avoided looking at the bed and shrugged. I didn't want to talk about it, think about it, deal with it. Looking back at Bobby, suddenly I was completely at a loss. He seemed to sense it and said, "Ok, son, how about we start by getting you two up off the floor?"
I nodded. Getting off the floor sounded like a nearly impossible task, but it also seemed a whole lot easier than thinking about what had happened to Dad. Straightening up against tight muscles, I muttered, "Sam?"
He didn't respond, so I elbowed him, got him stirring, looking at me. He glanced at Bobby, then back at me and finally whispered, "Dean?"
"Yeah. Whaddya say we get off the floor?" I asked.
Sam nodded. I looked at Bobby because I really had no idea if either of us were even capable of getting off the floor at the moment. Bobby didn't look any more confident in our abilities than I felt. I hadn't done anything except elbow my brother and I felt like I needed a nap.
"I think I should get a nurse…" Bobby said hesitantly.
Shaking my head, I started to push myself up. "We need to go."
Bobby grabbed my arm and pulled me up. It was a good thing he held on because I almost went down again. He shoved me into the chair, holding my shoulders for a moment as he stared at me. After assessing me, he said, "You should be in bed, Dean."
"I've been in bed." I shook my head. "We're leaving."
By now, Sam was pushing himself to his feet and Bobby moved in time to steady him and help him into the other chair. I noticed Sam's grimace of pain and the way he held a hand across his chest. Sitting next to my dead father's bed, looking at my messed up little brother, I wondered what had happened while I'd been unconscious. I looked back at Bobby.
"Bobby, I don't know… we, I don't know…" I motioned helplessly at the bed.
"I'll take care of it." Bobby said firmly.
Everything suddenly seemed like it would be ok. Bobby knew what he was doing. It was good because I sure didn't. I asked, "So what do we do?"
"I said I'll take care of it. You don't worry about your Dad or anything. You just need to worry about yourselves." He said, looking from me to Sam and back again. "I think you should go back to your room and…"
"I'll go get dressed. You can check me out of this joint while you're doing whatever you need to do." I said firmly. We weren't staying in this hospital any longer.
Bobby gave me a disapproving look, "Dean, the last I knew, you were in a coma. Not expected to live. Now, I'm pleased as punch that you're awake to argue with me, and you may have had a miraculous recovery but you do not look like you should be going anywhere except back to bed."
I stood up under my own power and stared him down. I said, "Bobby, we're all getting out of here. You can help us or we'll do it on our own."
A very high-minded statement for a guy who needed to hold onto a chair to keep from falling over. But I held my ground. Bobby slowly nodded. I glanced over at Dad, then said, "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Thanks for reading! Would love to hear what you think. :)