Chapter 14: You Haven't Seen the Last of Us!
"I hate hospitals," Don Flack said.
"I second that," Lindsay Monroe agreed. "I've spent more time in hospitals than I have at home lately." She, Danny and Flack were sitting in Flack's room. The doctor had just finished setting Flack's arm. "How's the arm treating you?"
"Not sure how I'm gonna write this up in the report," Flack replied. "Let's see…'We attacked the giant blood-drinking demon, at which point he threw Detective Taylor against a wall, and stepped on my arm, snapping both bones'."
"Might want to leave out the 'giant blood-drinking demon' part," Stella Bonasera said, coming into the room. She walked over to Flack and put a hand gently on his shoulder. "Hi, hero. How you feeling?"
"A hell of a lot better now," Flack teased her. "How are you? Everything go okay upstairs?"
"Few minor cuts and bruises, nothing serious." She gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "I'm glad you're okay," she told him.
He smiled at her. "Guess I can't get phone numbers from any of the nurses this time, huh?"
She shook her head. "Nope. If you do, they'll have to deal with me."
Flack raised an eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause that'd be kinda fun to watch."
Stella laughed and gave him a light kiss on the forehead. "I'm going to go get a soda, hero. Do you want something?"
I can think of something… "Uh…no." Flack fumbled over the words. "No, I'm good. Thanks."
Stella stood. "I'll be right back," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
Flack watched with interest. When she'd gotten partway down the hall, he called, "Hey, Stella?"
Her heels clicked as she came back in. "What?"
Flack smiled. "You wanna walk out of here again, please?"
The laughter echoing down the hall as she went for the soda machines was music to Flack's ears. He looked over…and saw Danny and Lindsay both still sitting there in a slight state of shock at what they'd just witnessed. He'd sort of forgotten his friends were there.
Danny Messer grinned at his friend. "What the hell was that?"
"Too much?" Flack asked.
"Maybe a little over the top," Danny replied.
"Whatever, buddy. It worked." Flack settled back in his bed and shook his head. "Man. I still can't get over this night."
"Crazy, huh?" Lindsay looked across the hall. "What's the word on Mac?"
"A slight concussion, but otherwise he's fine," Danny reported. "Haven't heard anything on the Winchester kid yet."
"I hope he's okay. He saved our butts back there," Lindsay said. "Kid saved the world."
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"Sammy. Listen to me, okay?" Dean Winchester was seated next to his brother's hospital bed. It was like roles reversed- last time they'd been in a hospital, Sam had been the one by his bed. Unconsciously, he grasped his brother's hand. "Look. You, ah, you can't leave me, okay? Because I'm not sure if…I mean…with Dad gone and everything…I just…you can't die. And you're sure as hell not gonna go into a coma or something. That's the loser's way out." Dean shook his head. "And that stunt you pulled tonight was freakin' incredible. Every shot hit the mark. So you're no loser. Okay?"
He wasn't entirely sure if Sam could hear him at all. The doctors just said he was unconscious. They weren't sure when he'd wake up, but they hadn't said it was permanent, which was good. Dean glanced up at the ceiling. Sure as hell wouldn't be fair to have him die or something now, not when he just saved the world.
"Dean…let go…of my hand."
Dean looked up to see Sam's open eyes watching him. His eyes flickered down to where he was holding Sam's hand-and instantly pulled away. "I hate chick flick moments," he cracked.
"Is he dead?" Sam asked him.
"Oh yeah. Yeah, you, ah, you pretty much sent him on a one way trip to oblivion." Dean grinned. "Hell of a night, huh?"
"You know how to have a good time," Sam replied. He looked around. "How's everyone else?"
"The lead guy's got a concussion, and the jerk detective-just kidding- has a broken arm from where Caleph stepped on him."
Sam winced. "Ouch."
"Yeah, it wasn't pretty. Kinda resembled mush. But he's okay." Dean was silent for a second. "I can't believe I've been in New York for a week and I haven't so much as looked at bar. Well," he amended, "one that wasn't run by a vampire cult hell-bent on destroying the world, anyway."
"When can I get outta here?" Sam asked.
"I dunno. Maybe sometime this morning, late afternoon," Dean guessed.
Sam nodded. "Think you could handle bar-hopping in the middle of the day?"
"Sammy, I can bar-hop any time, anywhere," Dean countered.
Sam snickered. "Oh, well in that case, it's a date."
Dean smacked his brother in the arm. "Hey!" Sam protested.
"Enough with the chick flick moments. Damn it, Sammy." Dean was laughing about it. Sam laughed a little, too, except it hurt like hell.
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The next morning the New York CSIs were all standing outside the hospital entrance when Dean and Sam Winchester came out. "Whoa, this party for us?" Sam asked. He and Dean exchanged looks. They weren't used to finishing a job and having eight million people waiting for them at the end. Most of the time they just rode inconspicuously into the sunset.
"Hey, you saved the world," Danny Messer said. "Makes you all right in my book. Had to say thanks somehow, right?"
"We are grateful for all the help," Stella told the brothers.
Mac Taylor stepped forward. "And we're happy to ignore that part in your file where it says you're dead and have more than one warrant out for your arrest. I think saving the world trumps that."
Dean nodded. "We appreciate it." Mac held out a hand. Dean paused only for a second before shaking it. "Thanks."
Don Flack was fishing in his pocket. His hand clasped around something. He tossed the something to Dean. Dean caught it. He opened his hand to reveal a Statue of Liberty lighter and an "I Love New York" matchbook that was rubber-banded to it. Dean smiled and shook his head. "Aw, thanks, pal."
"Just get the hell out of my city," Flack replied, but smiling as he said it. "Unless the world is ending, I don't want you back."
"After the hospitality I got from the NYPD? No four stars in my book," Dean replied. Then, he thought of something. "Where's my car?" he asked.
"Your '67 Chevy Impala?" Lindsay Monroe asked. She jerked a thumb backwards. "She's right there. That's a sweet ride," she told him.
Dean couldn't resist. "Maybe I'll take you for a ride sometime," he said.
"Back off pal," Danny Messer cut him off.
Dean shrugged. "Oh, come on. I had to try."
With a wave, the two brothers climbed into the Impala. The engine purred and the car peeled out into New York City traffic.
Mac, Stella and the others watched until the car turned a corner. Then Mac turned to his team. "So. What's everyone say? Grab a slice at Ray's?"
"Mmm, pizza sounds good," Lindsay said. She furrowed her brow. "Hold on…I have a question."
"What's up, Montana?" Danny asked, sliding a hand around her waist.
"Whatever happened to the girl? Spike, since we don't know her real name?"
Stella shrugged. "I didn't see her last night. Granted, I was sorta busy at the time, but…"
"You don't think she'll try something? Like raise another demon up or something?" Flack asked the group.
Mac turned to the street in the direction the Chevy Impala had gone. "If she does, I have a feeling that we haven't seen the last of the Winchester brothers."
Flack rolled his eyes. "Great."
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Fin.
And that's it for another one. I left the end hanging for a reason. I could continue on with some supernaturally-charged stories...or New York could go back to normal. Or both. Thanks so much to my reviewers, you guys pretty much rock. Now to continue tradition- anyone care for another installment? Normal New York? Weird New York? A little of both? (More Dean and Sam?) Reviews are much appreciated!