A/N: I don't own anything, but don't I wish I did.

Chapter 3

Dean felt like he couldn't breathe. Other people got this kind of news. People on TV got this kind of news. Not their family. Propped up in bed with pillows stacked behind him, he eyed the doctor standing before him critically. Mary sat beside him on a chair with John and Sam's tall forms standing behind her. Dean, although he wouldn't admit it aloud, was thankful that Mary had taken hold of his hand. That meant that this was real. Real was good - he could deal with real once he got his head wrapped around everything.

A woman, probably a bit older than Mary, with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, calmly explained exactly why he was in the hospital, not that Sam hadn't already explained it to him only hours before.

An accident. They had gotten rear-ended by a delivery truck, who had caught black ice with no time to correct itself and avoid slowing down or smashing into the Impala. Him and Kelsey, both in the hospital. With some crazy stroke of luck, he had come away with only a couple bruised ribs, a few cuts and scrapes and a serious bump on the head.

Kelsey, on the other hand, was in worse shape. Alive, but in much worse shape. In addition to the cuts and scrapes from the shattered glass, and her own matching bruised ribs, they had found swelling in her brain, and so, the choice to keep her in a medically-induced coma for a few days was made.

"This will give her brain time to heal on it's own, allow the swelling to go down, and then, slowly, we'll wean her off." the woman, who had introduced herself as their attending physician, Doctor Susan Thompson, explained. She paused, eyeing each Winchester individually before landing her gaze squarely on John and Mary.

"I need to ask..." She paused again, and licked her lips. "Kelsey has not received any visitors, aside from yourselves. Is there a next of kin that I can have someone reach out to? It won't be ideal for her to be on her own when she's well enough to leave."

Mary shifted in her seat, tilting her head back to glimpse up at John, for just a brief second. "Uh, no." Putting her attention back onto Thompson, her lips twitched in a sad smile. "Her mom lives in Malibu, and, well... her dad hasn't been in the picture for a while now."

John nodded in confirmation. His large hand slid onto his wife's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "She's been living with us for years. We're pretty much the only family she's got."

Thompson bowed her head in understanding, and offered a comforting smile. "Understood. In the mean time," Pausing, Thompson spun on her heel and directed her attention to Dean. "You should be okay to head home in a couple of days, Dean, as long as things keep looking up for you. How're you feeling?"

"Sore," he grunted but snorted. "Guess that's normal though?"

"It is. I'll get you something to help with the pain."

With that, Thompson excused herself, and Dean could feel three pairs of eyes on him. Instantly, he felt uncomfortable. Nope, he would not let this turn into a Chick Flick moment.

"Dean..."

"I'm fine."

"It's not your fault." Mary slid her hand out of his and up onto his shoulder. Even at 23 years of age, he was still her little boy, and could tell that this most recent news was digging and tearing him at his core. The tense muscles, the stormy look in his eyes - Dean blamed himself for the situation that both he and Kelsey were in.

"I'm fine, Mom."

Dean pursed his lips and sank into his fort of pillows, closing his eyes. Talking about The Accident (as it was being called) and most recent news update was the last thing he wanted to do. His usual response to anything serious was to make either a sarcastic remark or Avoid It. This time, he was going to go with the latter. Sarcasm might be unwelcome right now, he realized.

John and Mary exchanged another look, silently communicating between the two of them before Mary squeezed his shoulder, clearly accepting his reluctance to talk. Leaning over, she lightly kissed him on the forehead, careful to avoid the large bump from a collision with the door frame.

"Okay, Dean. We'll let you get some sleep." Her voice was quiet, comforting. It made Dean feel like he was five years old again - Mommy kissing him goodnight, promising to keep away the monsters.

His dad and brother both said their goodbyes, before the trio quietly departed the room, leaving Dean to his own thoughts.

Doctor Thompson returned shortly after, giving him some painkillers before encouraging him to try and rest. Then, she departed again, promising to check in on him soon.

The week passed by in a blur. After three days, with Dean having recovered enough that he no longer needed to be kept overnight, Doctor Thompson allowed him to go home, granted he agreed to certain conditions. Those included taking it easy, and not being allowed to drive for at least a couple of weeks.

"Guess that means you're gonna be my chauffer, Sammy." Dean had teased, clapping his brother on the shoulder .

Sam smiled reluctantly, as though the thought was too horrible to bear. "Great." In actuality, though, it probably wouldn't be that bad. Hopefully Dean would want to do nothing but laze around on the couch, and watch some garbage low-budget movies.

Three days after that, on a Friday morning, Doctor Thompson had announced to Mary and John that the swelling from Kelsey's head injury had gone down enough that they were going to wean her off. "She should be awake later this afternoon."

Dean and Sam had both been left at home (with a stockpile of painkillers for Dean), while they had visited with Kelsey, so John had called and updated them, promising to call again once the girl had actually woken up. When Dean asked (or, rather, demanded) that he get to be there, John shot his suggestion down.

"Too many people at once will overwhelm her. When she's awake and focused, I'll bring you and your brother to see her."

"But-"

"No buts, Dean. Doctor's orders."

And that was the end of that conversation.

Just before 4pm that Friday, Thompson had come to fetch John and Mary from the cafeteria where they had camped out with hot coffee, a temporary solution to the last mostly-sleepless week.

"She's going to be a bit groggy. Let's give her some space," she instructed, as the couple stood at the end of her bed.

They watched the young redhead's closed eyelids flicker slowly as sensations slowly returned, and a light moan left her mouth as her eyes opened fully, before immediately closing again, the light hurting. She tried again, and flicked her lids closed briefly, before finding it was easier to squint. After a few moments, she blinked slowly and her breathing hitched, her body tense, as she glanced around the unfamiliar environment.

"Kelsey," Doctor Thompson started, firmly but at a quiet volume. "I'm Doctor Susan Thompson. It's okay, you're in the hospital. You were in an accident."

Settling her green eyes on the doctor, the look of confusion swept across her face as she took in the three figures standing across from her.

Thompson directed a nod at the couple beside her, giving them the Go Ahead to speak.

"Hey Kelsey, it's good to see you awake." Mary started, her blue eyes twinkling with relief. "How're you feeling?"

There was no immediate response. Instead, Kelsey just chose to stare at the blonde woman and dark haired man, her eyes wide in a spooked fashion. The couple exchanged another questioning look with each other before both glanced to the woman in scrubs, the one who had introduced herself as a doctor, clearly wanting an answer.

"My head hurts." she finally answered, eyes still trained on the couple in front of her.

"Kelsey?" Thompson ventured, cautiously. "What's the matter?"

After a long, few minutes - minutes that felt like hours to everyone in the room - Kelsey blinked once, then twice. It was obvious she was trying to form some kind of question in her mind.

"Who are they?"

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