Chapter 10

Dean spent the next two days in the ICU, the steady doses of pain medication keeping him quiet and compliant. Sam wondered if Lou was keeping her word, and medicating him to shut him up. He didn't care though, as long as it kept peace, it was fine by him.

Dean had improved so much that Lou felt he could be moved from ICU, and into a private room. The need for round the clock monitoring long since passed. She jotted down the order, and handed it to Iris to take care of. Iris, who always seemed to be around. She then prepared herself to go tell Dean, or rather Sam. They danced around each other, using Sam as a sort of messenger. Even when they were all in the room together, Lou would address Sam, and Dean would address Sam, never speaking to each other, even though they were mere feet apart. Sam and Lou both knew it was a childish game, but sometimes Dean could be a child.

Sam must have sensed something was up. It was like he had an internal radar when it came to Dean. He approached her at the nurses' station, and started questioning her.

"He's doing a lot better, isn't he?"

"Yes Sam, he is. I was just on my way to tell you. We're moving him out of ICU. He keeps up this pace, he could be out of here really soon. Another couple days, we'll be able to remove that head contraption. He's also had some reaction to stimuli in his legs. His back is going to hurt like a bitch for a while once his feeling comes back, but he'll be good as new in no time."

"Should I go tell him?"

"I want to watch him for one more day, then we'll probably send him down in the morning."

"How long before he's out of here? He's trying really hard to behave himself, but his patience is wearing really thin. He may not be able to restrain himself much longer, before he blows."

"When he has most of the feeling in his legs back, I'll let him go. Not until. It could be tomorrow, it could be next week. Just keep assuring him it will happen. Besides, if I release him before can walk, he'll just end up at my house. So, his two choices are my place or here. You want let him decide."

"I already know what he'll decide. I say he stays here."

"Good idea Sam."

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Iris listened to every word, her curiosity getting the better of her. She had made herself readily available whenever Dean needed anything. She'd change his bandages, give him sponge baths, or just come on for small talk. Always when Sam wasn't around though. Dean liked her, in a professional sort of way. He was totally unaware of previous events involving Iris. Sam hadn't bothered to tell him, he thought the subject closed.

She pocketed the order, and quickly left the nurse's station. She stopped at a supply cabinet, extracted a few items, and made her way to Dean's. room. Approaching the bed, she noticed he was only half awake, just staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Hi Dean. How do you feel today?"

"Hey Iris. You know, feeling high as a kite. Time for another sponge bath, or are you here to take me out dancing?"

She smiled and let out a soft giggle. "I wish. No, just here to draw blood. Need to run some more tests."

"Oh great, how many more holes can you people put in me anyway? It's not that embalming needle again, is it? That one really smarted."

"I'm sorry. If it's any comfort, I'm gonna draw it from your foot. At least it won't hurt."

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Sorry, guess that was a dumb thing to say, wasn't it?"

"It's ok, I forgive you. Just go to town."

She lifted the sheet, and went about her business, tucking the vial she'd just filled into her pocket. She pinched the skin tight, making sure no blood trickled out, and gently replaced the sheet.

"All done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Didn't feel a thing." Dean's answer, his mind obviously far away.

"I'll see you later, Dean."

"I know."

She would miss if he left ICU. And that made her sad.

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Shit hit the fan that evening, and it caught Dean smack in the face as it flew back. He had been more tired in the last few hours then he'd been in the last two days combined. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Sam just let him sleep, figuring everything catches up with Dean eventually.

Lou had returned to the ER to finish out her shift, checking on Dean once before she gave Sam the news and headed down. It had been a long shift, but she was thankful it was finally over. She wanted to check on Dean one more time before she left, giving them the ok to move him out.

She noticed it the minute she walked into the room. The light from the hallway landing directly on Dean's face illuminated the sheen of sweat across his brow. Looking into his eyes, they were glassy and distant. He had a fever.

Hitting the call button, she started undressing Dean's leg. It was healing nicely, no discolorations had appeared, and the purple and black bruises were starting to turn yellow and green. Nothing looked unusual. Iris entered the room, seeing Dean hadn't called, but Lou had.

"Iris, can you rewrap that leg. And blood draw for a complete work-up. He's got a fever, and I want to know why. When was the last time anyone checked on him?"

"I checked on him a couple hours ago, he was fine then."

"I want the white blood cell count yesterday, you got that?"

"I'll get right on it." She was gone and back in an instant.

'I need to find Sam. Do you know where he went?"

"Cafeteria, I think. He left about an hour ago. He should be back soon. Do you want me to have him paged?"

"No, I'll find him. Cancel that order to move him out of here. He's not going anywhere until that fever is gone. And we need to figure out why he has it in the first place."

Iris began drawing the ordered blood samples, opting for the usual spot on the arm this time. She filled one, then a second, and finally a third, pocketing one and placing the other two on the tray. Dean slept through the whole thing, not really caring what was going on at the moment.

Lou made her way to the elevators, intent on hunting down Sam. She didn't have to go far. The doors opened and out he came. He immediately noticed something was wrong.

"Sam, how long have you been gone?"

"Not long, maybe an hour. Dean fell asleep, so I went to get some fresh air. Why, what's wrong?"

"Did he look alright when you left him?"

"Yeah, he was fine, just really tired. What the hell is going on?" Sam was starting to fell some panic in the pit of his stomach.

"He's got a fever Sam, and he's pretty lethargic. How long had he been sleeping before you left?"

"A couple hours. He started snoring, that's when I left. What does this mean?"

"It means he probably has an infection somewhere. It's not his leg, that looks fine. It must be somewhere else. Damn it Sam, I thought by now the risk of infection was over. With all the antibiotics we're pumping into him, I don't see how anything could be growing in there. I'm increasing the dosage, and he's staying up here for the time being."

"Is he awake?"

"No. He's out cold. It's gonna be another long night Sam. You might want to get some coffee. You may need it."

"Maybe later."

Sam took off towards Dean's room. Iris was there when he entered. She was gently wiping the sweat from his brow with a cold, damp cloth.

"Hey Sam. I was just on my way out. Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be ok."

Sam was really sick of Iris telling him not to worry, and that everything would be ok. Right now, all he could do was worry, and things were definitely far from ok. His feelings about Iris were getting harder and harder to hide too.

"Weren't you just leaving? I'd like to be alone with my brother please."

"Sorry, Sam. I'll leave you two alone." She dropped the cloth on the bedside tray, and left, not looking back. Good thing too. Sam was shooting daggers at her with his eyes.

"You really enjoy the company here this much that you don't want to leave?" Sam picked up the towel, and continued where had left off. Dean just slept. It was all he could do.

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The blood tests yielded nothing that Lou didn't already know. The elevated white cell count told her Dean had an infection, somewhere. His fever hovered between 100 and 101 for four days. And what little feeling he'd regained in his legs, he'd seemed to have lost. He'd just stepped back to square one, and someone put a wall up around it, leaving him there idling, unable to go forward or back.

Dean was the most frustrated though. He was always tired, only able to keep himself awake for a couple hours at a time. He couldn't move, and the increase in antibiotics made him nauseous all the time. He didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink, didn't want to do anything but sleep. He was tired of being on his back all day and night, with nothing to look at but the ceiling. He was too tired to even release his frustration, so he just let it all build up inside. He was a powder keg, just waiting for a spark. And when it sparked, he was gonna blow.

"Dean, can you wake up for me for a minute?" Lou asked him. He opened his eyes in response to her question. He figured it was enough.

"I think we can remove that collar now. You'll definitely be more comfortable then. Once it's off, no sudden jerking head movements, OK."

"Guess that means I can't hit the AC/DC concert then."

"No, you can't." She removed the pins, unclasped the brace, and, supporting his head in her hand, slid the whole contraption off, gently easing Dean's head down onto an awaiting pillow.

Dean never thought he could be so happy just to be able to turn his head side to side, or shrug his shoulders. What he really wanted to sit up though. Being on his back was driving him crazy.

"Can I sit up now that you've let me out of the straight jacket?"

"Not yet. I don't want the unnecessary pressure on your back just yet. I'm sorry."

Down at the foot of the bed, Lou pulled back the sheet, once again praying for some kind of response from Dean's legs. She took a long look at Dean's foot. Something wasn't right.

"Dean, has someone been shooting you up through the feet? You have track marks here like a junkie." And he did. There were five obvious needle marks, the veins in his foot slightly puffy and bruised under the skin.

"You should know, you send Iris in here every day to use me as a pin cushion and suck me dry. Then she gives me a sponge bath, and changes my bandages. This place sucks, it has no variety. You could send in a hot nurse every now and then, couldn't you?"

"She's drawing blood from you every day?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Where's Sam?"

"How the hell would I know, I was sleeping when you barged in here."

"I've gotta go check on something. I'll be back." She almost sprinted from the room.

"Don't rush," Dean said to the empty room.

Lou ran down the hall to the nearest stairwell, cell phone in hand. Calling Sam, she was dumped straight into voicemail. Sam had to be somewhere in the hospital since his phone was off. She did the only thing she could do, and left him a message.

"Sam, it's Lou. I'm starting to think Dean's problems aren't entirely physical. I'm gonna check a couple things out. Call me when you get this message, and I'll try to explain," and she flipped her phone closed.

She came up to the nurse's station, noticing the obvious absence of Iris. She turned to go back to Dean's room. He was fully awake now, and looked like he'd been breathing fire.

"Dean, has Iris done anything else for you? Has she said anything unusual to you? Does she come in to see you when Sam's not here?"

Dean turned his head to look at her, grateful he could move at all. "I don't know. I haven't exactly been paying much attention. Yeah, she's here everyday when Sam isn't. So what? At least she cares if I get better. It's more than I can say for you." Dean's patience had worn out completely, and he was ready for this fight.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'm sick of you telling me to be patient, it's only temporary. I'm not any better then I was when I first got here. I'm not getting better, and you don't give a damn. You just keep pumping me full of drugs that make me sick, and tell me to wait. How much longer do you think I can listen to this shit? Why don't you find me a doctor that knows what they're doing, and leave me alone."

"Dean, listen to me. I think I know why you aren't getting any better. I think Iris is doing something to you. I just need to figure out what to do about it."

"Well, figure it out somewhere else, and leave me alone. Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You can't figure out what's wrong, so you just start making shit up. Just get out of her, please."

"Fine. Have a nice life Dean. If I never see you again, it will be too soon!" She stormed out of the room, running down the hall and kicking the stairwell door open.

Sam saw the whole thing. Saw her run from Dean's room and exit down the stairs. And she looked very angry. Entering Dean's room, his face was a mirror image of Lou's.

"What just happened in here?" It didn't register immediately that not only were Dean's head and shoulders free, but he was sitting up. When it did, he chose to ignore it.

"I fired her."

"You did what?"

"You heard me, I fired her. She can't get the job done, she needs to go. Plain and simple."

"Have you lost your mind? Oh, I get. You've been dying to lay into her since the moment you saw her, and you finally did it. Just couldn't keep it in anymore, could you. You're alive because of her, and this is the thanks she gets. You really can be a prick, can't you. You've pushed her so far away, she may as well be on Mars. What did she ever do to deserve this? You owe me some kind of explanation. You may not want her in your life, but I do, so spill."

"Drop it Sam. We are not having this conversation."

"Oh. yes we are. What is it Dean, are you jealous of her, are you….wait a minute. You pushed her away when she left for school. She left you. Oh my god, why didn't I see it before?"

"Sam, I said drop it!"

"You're in love with her, aren't you? That explains everything. Why you push her away, alienate her, pretend she doesn't exist. You think she rejected you when she went away. Tell me I'm wrong Dean."

"Sam, I'm warning you, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna……."

"You're gonna what Dean, kick my ass? I'd like to see you try."

"Sam, please," Dean choked.

"Please what, Dean. Drop it? No, I won't drop it. This needs to stop. You need to grow up."

"Sam, please….I'm gonna be sick." The instant he said it, he turned a sickly shade of green. Sam crossed the room in two quick steps, the only thing within reach the water pitcher. Ripping off the lid, he placed it under Dean's chin just in time to catch the contents of Dean's stomach inside. When he was finally finished, his head went limp against the pillow, his eyes closed tight.

"Can we discuss this later, Sam, please?"

"Fine, but we WILL discuss it later."

"Sam, can you lower the bed back down. I wasn't supposed to sit it up, and I think I'm sorry I did." Head down, he'd fallen asleep in seconds, or was doing a very good job pretending.

Sam just sat there staring at his brother, trying really hard to figure him out. He was totally unaware of the audience they had.