Chapter 18
As Dean looked over the powdered white people in the room all staring worriedly down at a ceramic rooster, he could not help the laugh that escaped him. The scene was too surreal, too funny. It was a mistake, however, as the action caused flames of pain to erupt from his battered side and dark spots to dance in his vision. When his vision cleared he found himself on Birdie's couch with Sam hovering over him shaking his shoulders.
"Dean? Dean?"
"What Sam?" he asked, blinking away the haze from his vision.
"Dean?" George shoved Sam away, earning a scowl from Dean. "Do you have those pain pills on you?"
Dean shook his head. "In the car." That had been on purpose. The temptation to keep popping them had been strong and he did not need his mind clouded from too much medication while Sam was in danger. Besides, they had no idea if Sammy was really out of danger yet. There still might be a gremlin waiting for them outside.
He heard voices and was pretty sure they were discussing him, but Dean couldn't quite make out the words. He pushed himself to standing. "We should get to the hospital," he said.
"We were just talking about that, Dean. Come on, man," he felt Sam's hand on his arm, "why don't you take it easy?"
Dean glared, shaking off Sam. "Sam, we need to get your head checked out. Come on, let's go. I'm driving."
"Dean," Sam blocked his way, "you look like you're about to pass out. Now, unless you want to go to the hospital in an ambulance, you're going to let Mike drive."
Let Mike drive? Dean's eyes flitted from Sam to George to Bobby to Mike and Reid, then back to Sam. They all appeared ready to wrestle him down and tie him up. Great. But if he had to be absolutely honest with himself, something he normally tried to avoid at all costs, driving would be just a little more than he should do right now. George didn't hear or feel the way his ribs popped when he hit that sauna door. He was pretty sure there were at least two broken now.
"Fine," he sighed, handing over his keys to Mike. "Let's just get going before that gremlin decides to come back."
"I thought it would go away after we got the imp?" Reid asked.
"We can't know that for sure," Bobby said. The man looked like he might grab Dean's other arm any second. Dean shuffled back a step, the couch hit his calves with enough force to send him toppling backwards. He landed with a soft thump on Birdie's couch, those flames of pain shooting through his side. Strange how with the immediate danger to Sam from the imp gone, his ribs felt so much worse. When Dean could open his eyes again, he found everyone hovering over him. Yeah, this day couldn't get much worse, could it?
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Mike felt a pang of sympathy for Dean. The man looked dazed and vulnerable sitting on George's aunt's couch with that glazed expression. Plus Dean actually looked worse than he did when they first arrived. Had something happened in the house before they managed to trap the imp?
"Come on," Mike reached out to pull Dean off the couch. He noticed Sam grabbing Dean's other arm. His friend squirmed in their collective grasp, but Mike held on until Dean was standing. Dean shot him a glare, which Mike ignored. He simply dangled the keys in Dean's face. "Unless you trust me with your baby outside of your supervision?"
Dean snarled. "Not on your life."
Mike resisted grinning at that. "Then come on." He headed for the door, hoping the brothers were behind him. It had been a toss-up whether George or Bobby would ride in the Impala with them. In the end they decided to see how agitated Dean was; if Dean was aggravated Bobby would ride in the Impala, if Dean was more complacent then George would in order to keep a medical eye on both men.
He held the door open for Sam to lead Dean through. Instead, Sam shoved Dean through the door. He always noticed Dean was a little protective of his younger brother, but Mike had never appreciated the fact it clearly went both ways. Until now. Sam steered Dean to the car, where Dean shook off his brother's hands to sit in the passenger seat. Sam glared through the window, clearly agitated, before clambering into the backseat.
"Uh, Bobby?" Mike asked as he headed toward the driver's seat. "Care to join us?"
"No problem. See ya there, George." Bobby threw George a wave as he followed Mike to the Impala.
Mike slid into the driver's seat, grinning at Dean's scowl. If Dean acted happy or relieved, he would be worried. His friend couldn't be too hurt if he was acting normal, Mike reasoned. Regardless he gave Reid their hand signal for lights and followed right behind his partner across town. They reached the hospital with both Dean and Sam frowning at him.
"Uh, Mike?" Sam asked from the backseat. "You do realize we aren't exactly looking for extra attention?"
Mike shrugged. "Deal with it." He squealed to a halt just outside the emergency room. Several people stood watching, no doubt alerted by Reid's sirens. He looked over at Dean and Sam. "What are you two waiting for?"
Dean shook his head as he looked out the window. "I hate hospitals."
"Me too." Sam reached over the seat to grab his brother's shoulder. "Come on, Big Brother. Let's go."
Mike figured if Sam weren't hurt Dean would refuse to get out of the car. As it was, Dean let out a heavy sigh before opening his door. He got out and waited for Sam to do the same. Sam moved a little slower, like he was dizzy. Sam nearly stumbled getting out of the car, but Dean caught him by the arm.
George ran up to the people in hospital garb standing around watching. "We have a head injury, prep that one," he pointed out Sam, "for CT scan and an MRI and call Brad Wayne. I'm taking this one to x-ray. Let's go, Dean."
Mike let himself breathe a little easier now that their friends were getting medical attention. Then he thought of the gremlin. Motion in front of the car caught his attention. Reid waved at him to park and hurry back. "You got Dean!" he shouted as he rushed inside.
Oh. They were going to be bodyguards now. Well, at least he got Dean.
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Brad Wayne took the newly repaired stairs at a dead run. He just received a call about Sam Cooper with fresh head trauma. Anyone but Sam, he thought to himself, hadn't the kid been through enough?
When he burst into the area where they had Sam, he felt a sense of relief at how normal Sam looked. However, appearances were often deceiving, and if the expressions on Bobby and Reid's faces were anything to go by he had reason to worry. He motioned for them to wait in the hall.
"Sam? How you doing today?" he asked, trying not to sound out of breath.
"I've been better. How's Dean?" Sam asked, his eyes a bit distant and unfocused.
"Dean's hurt?" Brad asked, pulling out his penlight. "What's wrong with him?"
"Ribs," Sam replied.
When no further explanation was forthcoming, Brad decided to try again. "Are we talking broken or something he ate?" He checked Sam's pupils.
"Knowing Dean, they're broken," Sam said, sounding weary. "Idiot. Doesn't even know when to ignore me."
"Ignore you?" Brad asked, checking the pupils again. At least it did not look like a concussion, that was a relief.
"Yeah, I kinda…" Sam paused for a moment. "I was trapped and I guess I panicked. Dean knocked down the door." He sighed. "His ribs were already cracked."
Brad nodded. That sounded like Dean. "Then they're probably broken."
"Doctor?" A nurse appeared at his elbow. "They are ready for the patient's tests now."
Brad turned to face her. "Go check the status of his brother, Dean Cooper, and have someone bring a chair."
"You're taking him, Doctor Wayne?" the nurse was clearly surprised. Brad resisted scowling at her.
"Yes, I am taking him. Please hurry with the chair," he said calmly, although he felt anything but calm. Sam with a head injury was one of the things that invaded his nightmares. That and Dean pointing a gun at him and snarling something about "I thought you fixed this," while Sam watched cartoons in the background. He felt a shudder run down his spine as he helped Sam into the wheelchair.
"Hurry up checking on Dean Cooper," he snapped at the nurse.
"He's with George," Sam said wearily.
Brad made eye contact with the nurse. "Doctor Schroeder," he clarified.
"Yes, doctor." The nurse hurried away.
"Ready for a couple of tests, Sam?" Brad asked in his most clinical voice as he pushed his patient down the hall.
"Whatever," Sam sighed. "Hey, Doc?"
"Yes, Sam?" Brad tried to keep a steady, even pace and not look like he wanted to run Sam all the way.
"When I had the regressive amnesia, did I really carry that Batman doll everywhere?" he asked.
"Yes you did, Sam," Brad replied, wondering if Dean had been teasing his little brother recently.
"Did you know why it made me feel better?" Sam asked, his speech slurring slightly. That was not a good sign.
"No. Want to tell me, Sam?" Brad asked, stopping in the middle of the hall to check his patient's pupils again. Okay, maybe it could be a concussion.
A grin spread across Sam's face. "Because it reminded me of Dean."
Brad nodded seriously. "I can see where that would make you feel better."
"Where is Dean, Doc? How is he?" Sam asked again.
"Not sure yet, Sam. The nurse will let me know when she finds out," Brad promised. As if she knew her cue, Brad's pager went off with the nurse's station number. Brad waited until they reached the room where they did the CT scan. While they readied Sam, Brad called the nurse's station.
"Sam?" he called out as they settled Sam on the table. "Dean has three broken ribs but other than that he's fine."
Sam lifted his hand in a short wave of recognition as they began the scan. Brad waited anxiously, watching the screen in front of the technician. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Relieved, Brad allowed himself to relax a little during the next test, the MRI. Again nothing appeared out of the ordinary initially. He would wait for the final results, but Brad now felt fairly confident in taking Sam to recuperate in the same room as Dean.
"Hey, Dean," Sam called out as his bed was rolled in next to his brother's.
"How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked anxiously, sitting further up in bed though Brad knew that had to hurt like the devil.
"S'okay," Sam replied, slurring a little.
Dean shot him a worried glare. "I'm sure it's just a light concussion, nothing to really worry about," he tried to assure Dean. "We'll have the final test results by morning."
Dean nodded, resting back against the bed. "Sam? Need anything while Doc Wayne is still here?" he asked in a clear voice.
"Jus' a lil' sleep," Sam said with a yawn.
Brad hooked the monitoring equipment up to Sam personally, to make sure everything was done properly. He paused by Dean's bed before leaving the room. "He's going to be fine, Dean. Why don't you try to get some sleep, too? You both look like you've been through hell and back."
Dean nodded his head wearily. "You don't know the half of it, Doc." His eyelids drooped heavily. "We just came out here for a little R&R. See if I do that again."
Brad figured Dean was asleep before he stepped out the door, right into the expectant gazes of Bobby, Reid and that new deputy. What was his name?
"How are they, Doc?" Bobby demanded, stepping forward to glance inside the room.
"You can go in whenever you'd like, Bobby. They're both going to be fine. They just need some real recuperation time," Brad explained.
"I thought Dean's ribs were broken?" the deputy demanded.
"So he did break them, huh?" Bobby asked. "Figures, the way he knocked down that door."
"He knocked down a door!" the deputy became indignant. "Nobody thought to call me to do it?"
Bobby stared at the deputy a moment, but was spared answering by Reid. "Easy, rookie. There probably wasn't time to think about it. Right Bobby?"
"Uh, yeah. It happened pretty fast. I mean, I had no idea what the durn fool was going to do until he crashed into the door." Bobby shrugged, like he had no control over the situation. Well, considering who was involved, Brad agreed that Bobby probably had no control what-so-ever.
The rookie glared at Dean's sleeping form through the door. "He and I are going to have a loooong talk about that."
Bobby snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."
"Oh, I think he'll listen." The rookie tossed some car keys in the air. "If he ever wants to see his precious Impala again." The grin that spread across the young officer's face was so reminiscent of Dean, it sent a shiver down Brad's spine. Where did people like this come from?
"Gentlemen?" Reid stepped between the other two men. "I think what we need to concentrate on is keeping those boys safe and sound long enough to heal up. Ideas, please."
Brad excused himself from the next conversation. He decided he did not want to know how or why Dean and Sam fell back under his care. He usually slept better at night just knowing people like that were out there and not knowing what could be lurking in the dark corners of his house. Even so, Brad typically slept with a heavy metal flashlight on his bedside table and a fresh ring of salt around his bed. You know, just in case.
Thanks again and again to everyone reading Murphy's Law. The first story, Lil' Sammy, began as a reader request and blossomed into my most popular fic to date. When hotshow, my intrepid editor, suggested doing another story I leapt at the idea of making it a sequel so I could bring back Mike and George. Now I'm going to give the guys some much needed rest for the month of November, and we can go back to battering them in December!