The rain pounded heavily against the windscreen of the impala, obscuring Dean's view of the road. It was eight thirty on a summer's morning, though you wouldn't have guessed given the dank, dreariness of the weather. Dean drove down the route he'd been taking every day for two weeks now. He had been staying in a motel about 25 minutes drive away from the hospital. It was the closest he could find.
He arrived at the Hospital at around 9-ish. He hopped out of the car then half-jogged to the main entrance, trying to avoid the rain. Upon entering he went straight to the hospitals cafe, because goddamn it, he deserved a coffee right now, although something stronger would have been much appreciated. He drank the coffee alone at a table in the corner of the small hospital cafe. He knew Sam wouldn't be awake yet (his insomnia was getting better, and he had been sleeping for the past week) and even if he was awake, despite never wanting to leave his brother alone, Dean never really enjoyed spending time with him inside the hospital. It wasn't Sam's fault. Dean just didn't like seeing him because he felt partly responsible for how he'd become. He had deserted his own brother because of his father manipulation. Just because Sam had wanted to go to college, because he didn't want to go into the 'Family business'. Dean just felt so guilty every time he saw him, every time Sam talked about the past times he'd been here. Sam didn't put any blame on Dean for leaving him the second time. But Dean did.
Dean had almost finished his coffee when his brother's doctor came to his table and sat at the chair across from him. "Dean" he said simply. Crap, Dean thought immediately, in the past any authority figures talking to him could only mean bad news. He was right.
"Your visits they have been very ... encouraging, to Sam's health. He seems to be sleeping more, and he accepts his medication with less restraint, however, -"Dean sighed.
"You're going to tell me I have to stop visiting aren't you" he interrupted. "Well I'm sorry mister but I just can't do that." Dean gave the doctor a stern look. "I understand. I mean to say, don't let him down. I don't think he could take any disappointment."The doctor had knownhis patients to have family visit every day for weeks until one day when they seem to just give up. It is not helpful to his patient's recovery and is not something he'd wish upon anybody. He just didn't understand how family could just give up on each other like that. He didn't wait for Dean's response, but rather gave dean a nod before going back to his job.
Dean didn't even finish his coffee. It had gone cold anyhow.
He arrived outside Sam's room, stopping suddenly before he could reach for the door handle. He could hear Sam's voice inside. He was talking, supposedly, to Lucifer. Dean hadn't heard him do this before. He normally ignored it, or just flinched at nothing. Dean hesitated, knowing that Sam was probably getting worse, and there was nothing the doctors could do, before knocking on the door and striding in. "Hey Sammy, how you doing?"
"Fine, better actually," Sam replied, feigning a smile. "I just want to get out of this place, they treat me like I'm insane, and I can't exactly tell them I'm fine, I'm just having flashbacks from my time in Hell, without seeming even more crazy..."
"Well, you can't leave, not yet." Dean replied. "You can't go around with the devil in your head, telling you what to do."
"Hey c'mon Dean, I'm sleeping now. I'm better, I can control it."
"Sammy, I just..."
"No, Dean, I can't stay here. We need to hunt. Demons don't stop killing because a hunter gets sick." Dean sighed. He just wanted to care about his little brother, but that proved difficult when his little brother was 28 years old and a stubborn bastard.
Doctor Cartwright had been in work for little over an hour when he saw Dean Winchester sat in the corner of the hospital coffee shop. He had been hoping to see him. In fact he always hoped to see him because he knew that if he didn't see him then Sam would only get worse.
He approached him at once, forgetting about subtlety because he could see Sam getting better, and he was determined to get him there. Although he tended to leave patients to themselves, he saw the war in Sam Winchester, and as an ex-soldier himself, he couldn't help taking notice. He didn't want Sam to get worse, he knew what it was like to watch your friends die, and face that level of destruction. So now he was doing all he could to get Sam better, and that meant getting his brother to keep visiting.
He also hoped that if he got talking to Dean Winchester, he could find out more about Sam's past, as Sam had been particularly closed up. In fact he hardly talked to any of the Doctors at all. Doctor Cartwright had even tried looking into his history, but had found nothing. No hospital record at all, no criminal record, completely clean. He thought this strange. But he didn't pry. He was too busy.
As he sat across from Dean Winchester, who was looking at him curiously, he noticed similarities in his face as his brothers. Like the way his eyebrows draw in when he is concerned, and the faint lines beneath his eyes.
He figured Dean would automatically assume he was there with bad news and so tried to keep his voice positive. He didn't have time to discuss the intricacies of Sam's health, so instead he merely told dean that he didn't want him to let his brother down, the way he'd seen so many before him.
The doctor presumed this wouldn't make much difference, Dean probably had a family to get back to, and a job, but and Sam needed family right now and according to Sam, Dean was his only family.
By the stern look Dean was giving him from across the table, Doctor Cartwright figured now wasn't the time to ask him about his brothers past. So he went back to his job and tried to forget about the Winchester's and the many questions surrounding their lives.
Dean arrived back at the motel room, tired and way too sober. He had passed a liquor store on the way back and had seriously considered using his last twenty bucks on whiskey. Luckily he had noticed the gas was low and it shook some sense into him. He needed to get a job. He would be staying here for at least another couple of weeks, and credit card fraud and hustling pool wasn't an option for a long term stay, well long for Dean anyway.
He decided he'd sleep first then look for work in the morning. He figured he didn't have many options when it came to getting a job, being a genius in the world of hunting wasn't something many jobs looked for on a CV, but he knew how to lie and he could charm his way into something if he wanted to.
He showered before sleeping because he hates the smell of hospitals and he'd pretty much forgotten what anything else smelt like.