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And we've been slimed in cheese. Sorry about this. I was having major writer's block while writing this chapter and it's not one of my favorites, but here ya go anyway…hopefully it'll be ok…
Chapter 9: Settling Emotions
Beep…beep…beep…Dean ran his right hand through his hair and then winced having forgotten about the IV in that arm. This time it was a green plastic chair that he found himself in and he was pretty sure that he liked the blue one better. Sam was finally asleep and completely unaware that Dean was at his side. It had been a fight and Dean honestly hadn't realized how much fight Sam had had in him. He had seen his brother battle some pretty horrific things and get pretty hurt in the process, but Sam's stubbornness of the past night superceded everything that Dean had seen in the past. Sam had been determined, unbelievably so, not to fall asleep (or pass out as the case may have been) until he KNEW that Dean was okay. That sentiment in and of itself didn't surprise Dean. It was the fact that Sam was still conscious with a blood pressure of 80 over 35 that had shocked the hell out of him. When Sam had first been admitted to the hospital, before Dean had even realized that his brother had been hurt…that was the only other time in Sam's life that his blood pressure had been so low, and then Sam was unconscious- and for many hours.
Needless to say, Sam had drawn a lot of attention from essentially all of the hospital staff thereby making it harder to remain inconspicuous. The doctors had even suggested to each other calling down some of their colleagues from Rome, GA so they could see Sam, the amazing scientific wonder. Dean laughed, if they only knew… Luckily Dean had overheard that idea and quickly put a stop to it, threatening to sue and get licenses revoked if his brother's confidentiality was breached- even to other doctors.
As for the gunshot wound…it seemed that Sammy hadn't been the only amazing wonder. The wound was flesh only and the bullet had avoided all major blood vessels. But that alone hadn't been the amazing part. What was amazing was that the bullet had taken the exact same path as the knife had a few days ago. In fact, because the bullet was smaller than the knife had been, the exit wound was the only new damage to Dean's shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was luck or an amazingly freakish coincidence, but between he and Sam, medical history seemed to have been made.
Dean's thoughts were interrupted as Sam began to moan and shift in the sheets. The beeping sped up and Dean immediately reached out a hand to shake his brother from the nightmare. The hand got its response when Sam awoke with a start. "Relax Sam, you were having a nightmare."
Was he? Sam searched his brain vainly to try to determine where he was, what day it was, and what had happened. He was confused…extremely so. He heard the beeps of the heart monitor, Dean was at his side, but he was fairly certain that he had been released from the hospital already. Then of course there was the 'Dean is dead' voice repeating in his head. He was sure he had dealt with that already also. He had called Dean from the hospital. That's how Dean knew he was there. He hadn't truly shot his brother…that had been a hallucination.
Sam looked over at his brother. Dean was lounging in a green plastic chair, his feet up on Sam's bed. His right hand was once again on Sam's shoulder and his left arm was in a sling. An IV ran out of Dean's right arm. The sling and the IV brought memories flooding back and Sam gasped for breath as they overtook him. His vision went dark, but his hearing remained intact. He felt the bed shake as Dean took his feet down and lean over him, "Sam relax. Breathe."
Sam did as he was told, desperately wishing for his eyesight to clear up so that he could see his brother. After a few minutes, Sam managed to calm himself down enough to be able to see Dean. "Dean?"
Dean smiled, "Hey Sammy."
The beeps picked up and Dean shook Sam's shoulder, "Hey…none of that. You stay calm or I go away."
That brought a smile to Sam's face. Dean used to use that ultimatum quite often when they were children, although at that time it was, 'Hey Sammy, dad's right, you need the target practice, now you start shooting or I go away.' It worked every time; at least it did up until he was 14 and 'too old' for that sort of thing. "I'm not twelve Dean."
Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's comment, "K. Then I'll just g…"
Sam's arm shot out and grabbed his brother's wrist. "No." Sam opened his eyes and looked at his brother. Dean was smirking. Sam had grown serious. "Did I really shoot you?"
The smirk remained on Dean's face as he nodded, "And I was just starting to heal there too. You're a pain in the ass Sam."
Dean said it lightly, but Sam didn't smile. Tears came to his eyes, "I'm sorry Dean."
Dean became serious and a little annoyed, "For what?"
Sam stared confused; the answer should have been obvious. Dean's face grew angry as he continued, "For shooting me? 'Cause I gotta say Sam, I didn't love that, but that's not really the part I'm pissed about."
Sam looked surprised; what else was Dean pissed about? Dean's face grew angrier at Sam's unknowing expression, "Fine. If that's what you're sorry about, fine. It's forgiven, water under the bridge."
Sam watched as Dean, clearly still annoyed, stood up and made his way back over to his own bed. Apparently they were sharing a room. Sam racked his brain trying to figure out why Dean was upset. Unfortunately, his brain didn't seem to be working well. "Dean."
Dean ignored him and laid down. Sam tried again, "Dean, I can't think well. Just tell me man."
Sam heard Dean grunt and then begin speaking, "You took off Sam. I got back…you were gone."
Sam cringed and the beeps shot to a quick pace. How could he have forgotten about that? How could he have even done that? He hadn't left a note, hadn't brought his phone, hadn't brought a gun?? He sighed and turned his head towards his brother. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"
Dean turned away at Sam's apology, shaking his head. Obviously he didn't accept the apology.
The beeps increased more and Sam fought to breathe and explain, "Dean. I wasn't thinking man…still not. I…it didn't even make sense. I just…I didn't want to fail my first solo gig."
Dean scoffed and turned back to his brother, "Yeah, well, you did real good there Sammy. Now not only is the Feeder not dead, but you're in even worse condition and I'm shot. So great job."
The beeps increased more and Sam lost the battle to stay conscious.
Dean heard the drastic increase in beeps almost immediately after he stopped speaking. Recognizing the significance of the sound, Dean pushed himself into a sitting position just in time to see Sam's eyes rolled back into his head and several nurses run into the room. Silently he cursed himself for arguing with his brother given Sam's current condition. Perhaps it would have been better if they had gotten separate hospital rooms…
Dean watched as nurses bustled around his brother frantically. He wasn't sure what they were trying to do until one pulled out a syringe. A similar incident had occurred at the last hospital when Sam's pulse had raced. Dean grew annoyed, wondering why all the nurses felt a need to sedate his already hypotensive brother despite clear orders from the doctors NOT to do so.
As with the last hospital, Dean immediately intervened. Pulling out his IV, Dean jumped off his bed. He walked the four quick steps to his brother's bed and grabbed the nurse's arm before she could inject the sedative into the IV. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Startled, the heavyset nurse responded, "Sir, I need you to let go of my arm."
Dean made no move to do so, "I don't think so. The doctors were clear…no drugs."
The nurse appeared intimidated, but didn't back down. "Sir, if you don't let go of my arm, security will be called and they will sedate you."
Dean released the woman's arm as he worked his way between the nurse and Sam. He reached behind his back as he faced off the nurse, and began rubbing his brother's arm in an attempt to slow Sam's pulse. The nurse continued to stare him down, "Mr. Reynolds, you need to step aside."
Dean held the stare, "Not gonna happen."
As with the last time, the beeps began to slow down. Dean opted not to think about the fact that he was rubbing his brother's arm. It made him uncomfortable, but he knew from a lot of past experience that touch (as much as Dean hated it himself) was the quickest way to calm Sam. And, as it stood, extreme situations called for extreme measures. Sam's life depended on him relaxing. Plus, Dean was sure neither of them would be bringing it up later.
Dean's thoughts were interrupted as the doctor walked into the room.
The nurse turned to the older man exasperated, "Dr. Mitchell, we have a problem."
The doctor surveyed the body language between Dean and the nurse and quickly surmised the situation. He waved the nurse to back down and she took two steps back from Dean; she was still visibly annoyed.
The doctor reviewed Sam's vitals, along with the paper tape printout that the heart monitor had created when Sam had lost consciousness. Finally he turned to Dean, "Did this happen spontaneously?"
Unsure of what the doctor's reaction would be, Dean said nothing.
The doctor tried again, "Mr. Reynolds, if this happened spontaneously, then we have a problem. If it was triggered by something…"
"I had a nightmare." Dean, the doctor, and the two nurses turned at Sam's voice.
The doctor nodded, "Alright. We'll continue to monitor this." He turned to Sam, "I'm afraid that with your current blood pressure, we can't give you anything to help you sleep." Dean glared at the nurse to make sure she heard the doctor. She had, and was clearly uncomfortable under Dean's hostile gaze. The nurse turned and left the room.
The doctor watched Dean's soothing motion on Sam's arm before continuing, "You seem to be calming well enough though." He looked at both brothers, "I can't stress enough how important it is for you to keep your pulse down." The doctor held up the paper printout, "You were very lucky Mr. Reynolds. If this happens again, you could very easily have a heart attack or enter arrhythmia."
Sam and Dean both nodded and the doctor and the other nurse left. Dean stopped the arm rubbing and turned back to Sam, "I'm sorry Sam."
Sam sighed, "Dean, I think we both need to stop saying that."
Dean smiled at him, "Hey man. You ran off and then you shot me. You owe me at least a week of repentance before we wipe the slate."
Sam shook his head, "What happened to 'water under the bridge'?"
Dean looked offended, "Dude. You SHOT me."
Sam turned serious, "Dean. Really, I'm…"
Dean shook his head, silencing his brother. He had been teasing…there was no more need for apologies. Neither had meant to hurt the other- not when Dean didn't help Sam, not when Sam left to finish his hunt, not when Sam had shot Dean, and not when Dean had provoked Sam into passing out. They loved each other and they would die for each other - they knew it and it didn't need to be said. The things they were sorry for…they weren't intentional- just mistakes.
Sam was calm now and Dean turned to go back to his bed. "Dean…thanks."
Dean turned back to Sam, confused. Sam looked at his arm as an indication of what he was thanking him for. Dean grew visibly uncomfortable, muttered under his breath, and walked to his bed. So much for the rubbing not being brought up…he would have to explain to Sammy what topics fell into the category of 'not even discussed on the deathbed'.
As Dean laid down, Sam continued, "Not just that. Thanks for coming after me…even though you got shot. I don't think…" There was a pause before he continued, "I don't think I would have lived otherwise."
Not expecting a response from his brother, Sam turned back to sleep.
Even as Sam drifted off, Dean considered what Sam had just said. It was hard to tell if that statement were true. If Dean hadn't shown up, Sam would have shot the real hallucination at the start and probably would have been able to shoot the leech on his own as well. Where it would have gone bad, is when the bullet didn't kill the leech. Then Sam would have had to leave on his own, without a car, and after being fed off. However, if the gun had worked, there was no doubt in Dean's mind that Sam could've handled the leech on his own.
Several feelings seemed to be at war within Dean. The first feeling was…content, with himself. He had made the right decision this time. If he had stayed with the girls and been 'paid' for his services, Sam might have died. The fact that he had gotten a second chance to do the right thing…he was grateful for it. He took a lot of pride in protecting his brother, and for the most part, tonight he had done the job right.
However, there was also a part of Dean that was concerned. Sam had left the motel room alone, without a car, without a phone, without backup, just to prove to himself that he could take out the leech. And based on their last conversation, Sam's confidence had taken a blow. Dean would be the first to admit (although not out loud), he liked it when Sammy needed him around. But the good big brother in him was unhappy. Had his own need to protect Sam caused Sam to doubt himself? Sam not believing in himself was a hard thing to hear…and it wasn't what Dean wanted.
Was it ok? Review...lemme know...please?