Chapter 9

Sam couldn't sleep. Not for lack of trying though. He got a good three hours in before the nightmare woke him. It was a familiar scene, he'd seen it live the night before. And it was just as horrifying. So, he laid there awake, waiting for the for the next couple hours to squeak by.

For two hours he laid there, and he just couldn't take it anymore. He dragged himself out of the bed and made his way to Lou's room. Maybe she was awake too.

Her door was open, the room pitch dark. He entered it silently, and just stood there staring at her from the foot of the bed. A rogue beam of moonlight cut through the window blinds, landing gently on her face. Sam thought that it made her look angelic in her sleep. Her face was peaceful and serene.

"Sam, are you practicing the Vulcan Mind Meld hands free, or are you staring at me for a reason?"

Her voice shocked him back to reality. "I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to see if you were awake."

"I am now. Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just getting late. You said you needed to be back at ten, and it's almost nine now. I was hoping we could get going soon."

"Alright Sam, I'm coming. Do you think you can navigate the kitchen and make some coffee while I take a shower?"

"I'll do my best," Sam told her, heading down to the kitchen. He found the coffee easily enough, but had no idea where the filters were. Giving up , he pulled off a paper towel and shoved it into the pot, dumping the coffee on top. "Guess I did learn something useful at Stanford after all."

Hearing the water running upstairs, Sam searched the rest of the kitchen. Finding the toaster, a frying pan, and coffee mugs. Opening the fridge, he pulled out the eggs, cheese, and butter. Locating the bread, he want to work making breakfast. "Breakfast at nine at night. This whole thing is really backwards, isn't it?"

Lou finally made it down thirty minutes later, still looking half asleep. Smelling coffee put a smile on her face and lit up her eyes though.

"Sit down, I made you breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day. Scrambled egg sandwich with cheese, and coffee. Breakfast of champions."

"Wheaties it the breakfast of champions Emeril," she smirked.

"Humor me."

"Ok. It's great Sam, thanks. I haven't had someone make me breakfast in a long time."

"It's the least I can do."

"Dean teach you how to cook that, because I sure as hell know it wasn't one of John Winchester's skills."

"No, actually, it was you."

"Ah grasshopper, the student has become the master," she just smiled at him, and started eating.

They finished in no time, shined off the rest of the pot of coffee, and with slight caffeine buzzes, drove back to the hospital.

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Nothing had changed much since they'd left, except some of the staff members. Sam took his place in the uncomfortable plastic chair at his brother's side. He looked better, a little anyway. He was starting to get some color back in his face. Sam held his hand, grateful for the warm feel of the flesh instead of the cold, dead feel it had earlier.

Lou was studying the chart, making notes here and there. The sound coming from the monitor was strong and steady, making her look pleased.

"The brain swelling has started to go down Sam. That's good. No fever yet, that's good too. Still has some blood coming from the kidneys though, but that's much better also. All in all Sam, I think he's doing remarkably well, considering."

"Do you think you can bring him around sooner?" Sam sounded hopeful.

"Chill out there Sparky, it's only been nine hours. If I see more improvement, I'll think about it, ok. But don't hold your breath. I know how you feel Sam, but I'm not rushing this. You just need to be patient."

"I know, it's just that until he wakes up, I don't think I'll believe he's really gonna be ok. Seeing is believing, you know."

"God Sam, you sound like Dean now. Don't you have any faith?"

"I think faith abandoned Dean a long time ago."

"You shouldn't think that way Sam. You know that sometimes shit just happens."

"Why does it always happen to us?"

"Good question. When you figure it out, you let me know. I've gotta get downstairs. I'll be back up to check on the two of you later. Page me if you need me, OK?"

"OK. See ya later."

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Sam sat in silence for only god knew how long when his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Hi Sam. How are you today? I see Dean is doing better. I'm so glad to see that. He'll be up and around in no time, you'll see."

'Oh god' Sam thought. It was Iris. Sam wondered if she ever went home. Or if she even had a home. She always seemed to be turning up. "Hi Iris. What are you doing here?"

"I work up here. I'll be taking care of Dean while he's here, which is why I'm here now. I need to change his bandages. You're more than welcome to stay, if you want."

"No. I think I'll pass on the Faces of Death show right now. I'll go get some coffee, and come back."

"Sure thing Sam."

As Sam stepped out of the room, he leaned against the door frame to collect his thoughts. He was surprised to hear Iris talking, and it wasn't to him.

"You're a very lucky man Dean. You have so many people that care about you so much. You are really blessed. I can't wait for you to wake up, I want to get to know you. There must be something pretty special in there."

Sam just shook his head. Iris has a crush on a person she knows nothing about. And if she knew half of what Sam knew, she would be running away faster than if her hair was on fire. Most people didn't want to know what they knew.

Instead of going for the coffee, Sam stood in the doorway, watching Iris' every move. She pulled down the sheet to expose Dean's chest and abdomen. Gently removing the bandages, she slowly ran her fingertip along the length of the incision that had been made to save his life.

"I'm sorry this happened to you Dean. You didn't deserve it." She stroked the stitches like they were some small pet as she stared at his face. Wiping it down with something Sam assumed was an antiseptic, she recovered it with fresh bandages.

Sam just stood there wide-eyed. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. His brother was practically being molested by some love starved nurse while he was in a coma. Sam knew if she went the rest of the way under that sheet, she'd be sorry. When she'd finished changing the last bandages, she just tugged the sheet back up, and went to the bandages on Dean's leg.

Those bandages she changed quickly and efficiently, not wanting to expose the limb more than she needed to. Gathering her supplies, she ran her hand gently down the side of his face as she made to exit the room. Sam walked back in.

She jumped slightly when she saw him, her face slightly reddening. "Oh, Sam. Did you find the coffee?"

"Oh yeah, I found it. You all done?"

"Yep. He's all fresh and clean, until tomorrow. I'll catch you later Sam. It was nice to see you." She rushed out of the room like someone had just sucked all the oxygen from it and she was suffocating.

Taking his place back in his seat, he just looked at his brother and sighed. "That was the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen. I am so not leaving you alone with her again while you're out. That was just way too weird," Sam said to his brother, who was unfazed by the whole ordeal. He was still in a coma after all. "Even in a coma, you can't keep the chicks away."

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The next day and a half dragged on at a snails pace. Sam and Lou would come to the hospital together. Sam would take his place at Dean's side, Lou would take her position in the ER. She would come up every couple hours to check up on them both, and when her shift was over, they'd go back to her house, giving Sam some small sense of normalcy.

Dean improved steadily each day, the swelling in his brain nearly gone. His kidney function was almost normal, and his face started to look like Dean again. And after Sam's conversation with Lou, there were no more awkward visits from Iris. She kept everything very professional.

"OK Sam. I'm cutting off the meds today, after we get him off that respirator. Do you want to stay, or would you like to step outside?"

"Try and move me from this spot and see what happens," he answered, and she just nodded.

"Ok, let's do this." She removed the tape holding the tube in place. Gently squeezing Dean's throat, she slid the tube out of his mouth as a nurse shut the machine off. For a brief moment, there was dead silence in the room.

They all stood and stared at Dean, waiting for him to take a breath. It took a few long seconds, but he finally let out with a hitched gasp, followed by steady breaths. Confident he was taking in air, Lou placed an oxygen mask over his face. Then, she finally breathed herself.

"That was a huge step Sam. He's breathing on his own. Things can only get better now." Lou placed her hand on Sam's shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. Sam just patted her hand in silent thanks.

"Now we wait. He could wake up in hours, or it could take days. You just need to be patient. Talk to him. It may help bring him around faster. Irritate him, that may work even better."

The joke was lost on Sam for the moment. "Do you really think it'll be days?"

"If that were anyone else laying there, I'd say yes. But we are talking about Dean, aren't we. I won't worry if it does take days, but it would surprise me if it did."

"God, I don't think I can wait anymore."

"Well, that's up to Dean now, isn't it. I've got rounds Sam, then I'll be back. You know where to find me if you need me." She left, followed by the nurse she had brought with her, leaving Sam alone with Dean again.

"Ok, you heard her, you can wake your ass up anytime now. You've been sleeping for two days now dude. And you desperately need to shave. You're starting to look like a 'Lost' passenger."

Sam took his place in the crappy chair, and started rubbing Dean's hand. He hoped physical stimuli would rouse him sooner, especially considering how much Dean hated anyone non-female touching him. If anything would work, annoyance would.

Sam opened the laptop, bringing it with him for just this purpose. He opened iTunes, and started up the Metallica. Physical contact and Metallica. If that didn't work, nothing would. Sam sat there alone with his brother for hours, just listening to the music and waiting.

He'd fallen asleep sometime during his wait, and was woken by the sounds of swearing.

"Son of a bitch," then a "Damn it," then finally "Sam, would you come here and help me please?"

Sam turned to see what was going on, and scowled watching Lou trying to drag a rather large couch into the room. "What the hell are you doing?" Sam just asked her, stupefied.

"If we're gonna be here all day and night, we may as well be comfortable, right?"

"What do you mean, We?"

"I'm waiting with you Sam. Can't a doctor be interested in the welfare of her patient? Besides, I've got the next three days off, and nothing better to do but entertain you."

"I doubt you have nothing better to do."

"Well, you'd be wrong then. I'd like to see if scrambling his brains did anything for is personality anyway. My curiosity has gotten the better of me."

Putting the chair out into the hallway, they positioned the couch in it's place, the room barely big enough to hold it. They both plopped down on it and began their vigil.

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The next twenty-four hours came and went. Sam and Lou passed the time talking or sleeping. The room had no windows, preventing either one from knowing if it was day or night, and making it harder to keep track of time. They tried not to stare at the clock, it only made time go slower than the agonizingly slow pace it already was.

They had had long conversations ranging from college war stories, hunts, boyfriends and girlfriends, and caught up on the last few years that they hadn't seen each other. They even found a way to talk about John. Sometimes, they would laugh so loud, the nurses had to come in and remind them they were in a hospital. Somehow, but not surprisingly, the conversation drifted to Dean.

"Don't you two ever shut up? Can you see I'm trying to sleep over here?" They both heard the hoarse, whispered voice, and Sam was on his feet before the last words came out.

"Dean?" Sam asked, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"You were expecting Brad Pitt?"

"You're awake," Sam couldn't hide his excitement.

"Thanks for noticing Captain Obvious, and I wish I wasn't."

"How do you feel? Guess that's kinda a dumb question?"

"I feel like Humpty Dumpty after the fall. Someone's dancing on my head, throat's on fire, mouth is a desert, and I can't move. That about covers it."

"Gravity's a bitch, isn't it. Get him some water Sam," Lou finally spoke up reluctantly, raising the head of the bed just enough to let Dean swallow. "Drink it slow, I don't want you to choke."

When he finally got the whole cup down, Lou knew it was time for the inevitable. "Sam, could I have a few words with Dean alone, please?"

Sam looked at Lou, then at Dean. Dean's eyes had gone wide now. He knew he had no escape. Dean spoke up first, "Whatever you have to tell me, you can say in front of Sam."

"You really want Sam to hear what I have to say? If you do, I'm all for it. I was just trying to save you some embarrassment."

"Whatever, just spit it out."

"Ok. I've been thinking about this since they brought you in here, and I wasn't sure how to say it really, so I'm just gonna spit it out. Contrary to what you may believe Dean, I really do care about you. That being said, I don't give a flying fuck about your personal feelings for me at the moment. You can either help me or fight me, the choice is yours. You may not like me, but I am your doctor, and I expect at least a small amount of respect for that. If you choose to be a non-compliant, belligerent prick, I will not hesitate to medicate you so heavily that Sam will be wiping drool off your chin until your released. I put up with all your shit for John's sake, and I have no intentions of doing it anymore. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Crystal." Dean's one word response. His face had taken a look of shocked disbelief. Had he just heard what he thought he'd just heard. He knew he'd had by the way Sam snickered and smirked next to him. "Way to kick a man when he's down." That initiated another bout of quiet laughter from Sam.

"Good. Now, can I please get on with my examination of my patient?" It wasn't a question really, it was going to happen no matter what the answer was. Now in full doctor mode, Lou went about her exam, checking eyes, ears, chest, working her way down to his legs.

She lowered the bed back down flat, and moved down to the foot of it. In Dean's position, she was well out of his eyeshot. She pulled out a pen from her pocket, and lifted the sheet from Dean's legs. "Are you in any pain, besides your head?"

"No." Nice, short, one word answer. It was exactly what she expected. She knew better though.

She drew the pen down Dean's good leg, starting at the knee and ending at the foot, getting the reaction she expected to that as well. None. She looked at Sam, closed her eyes, and just shook her head. Replacing the sheet, she jotted down a few notes. Her exam was complete.

"I'll leave you two alone, I'm gonna take care of a few things. I'll be back."

"Thanks for the warning," Dean quipped.

"Your one step closer to the Thorazine, Dean. Keep it up," she hollered back at him as she walked out the door.

"Dude, who let Dr. Kevorkian treat me? And what's with all this hardware? Who am I, RoboCop?"

"Dean, you have no idea how bad you got messed up. You're lucky you're not dead. Can you just be thankful for that for five minutes, before you start bitching about even being here in the first place." Sam's voice was tired, and Dean could hear all the pent up emotion in it. He knew he didn't want to upset Sam anymore than he already was.

"How long have I been out? And is anyone going to tell me when I can get out of here?"

"I'm not even sure how long you've been here. Four, maybe five days. I'm not really even sure what day it is now. And you won't be getting out of here any time soon, so you may as well just drop that question now. Don't think I won't let Lou drug you up to keep you here. You are going to stay as long a necessary, whether you like it or not."

"Oh, sure, take her side. Thanks for the loyalty Sammy."

"I'm taking her side because she's right. Do you wanna know what all you did to yourself? Your skull in fractured, your brain was swollen and bleeding, your ribs are broken, your spleen is gone, you broke your back, and you almost had to have your leg amputated. I may have left a few things out, but you get the gist."

"Sam, my legs are still there, aren't they?" The tone of the question was deadly serious.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Because I can't move them. Why can't I move or feel them Sam?" He hadn't thought about the fact he couldn't feel his legs, until Sam brought it up. Sam knew he had to diffuse this situation immediately. He did not want Dean getting riled up right now.

"It's only temporary Dean. It's because your back was broken, and the swelling hasn't gone down yet. You just need to heal, that's all. You need to go against your nature and give it time. Can you do that, if not for yourself, then for me? Please."

He took in a long, deep breath, and held it for a few seconds. Slowly letting it out, he answered. "I'll try. Just keep your lap dog on a leash, will you?"

"That's not funny. You've had that coming for a long time. Just keep it civil, and you may get out of here alive, without a foot up your ass, ok?"

Lou stepped back in, with something in her had that looked awfully suspicious. Wordlessly approaching the bed, she uncapped a syringe, plunged it into the port, and squeezed in the contents.

"Hey, what the hell is that for. I'm behaving."

"That's for the pain you aren't in Dean. Do you think I was born yesterday? You'll thank me later."

It didn't take long for it to take effect, the warm feeling flooding over him in minutes. And it he didn't feel the pain anymore. Not in his head, stomach, shoulders, nowhere. "He's gonna be out in a couple minutes, Sam. You should probably get something to eat. It'll be a few hours. Don't worry, he'll wake up again."

"Thanks. You wanna come with me?"

"Thought you'd never ask. Sam, I'm sorry I had to talk to him like that, but I needed to get it off my chest. I won't tolerate his behavior for long. He's got to understand he won't be up and running in a couple days with a couple aspirin. This is going to be weeks, maybe even months. The sooner he accepts that, the better. He'll get out of here a lot faster the more cooperative he is. I assume I can count on your help for that?"

"Always."