"911, what is your emergency?"
"My brother has collapsed, he is at Benedict's Motel, out on Main, opposite Ginger's, room 215."
"A vehicle has been dispatched to your location, sir. Can you give me…" Sam hung the phone up and continued mouth to mouth on his brother.
Two breaths.
Shaking Dean's shoulders again, calling out his name, Sam started praying.
Cass, can you hear me? Dean's hurt. Bad. He needs you.
Leaning over Dean again, Sam gave him two more breaths, before continuing his prayer. He told Castiel where they were and then all he could do was wait. "Dammit Dean…" he cried, "come back to me you bastard, this… is… not… how… you… die…" leaning down again, he took a deep breath to transfer to Dean's lungs, hopefully keeping him alive. On the second breath, Dean started coughing.
"Finally…" Sam muttered, "Don't you dare leave me again."
Sam breathed a sigh of relief; Dean was still not out of the woods, but at least he was breathing on his own. Reaching down, Sam lifted Dean's shirt up, what he saw, left him in shock; the entire right side of Dean's body was deep purple in colour. He was bleeding internally.
Cass… are you there? Come on… Dean needs you… Now!
In the distance, Sam could hear a siren. He ran for the door, propping it open with the chair before returning to his brother. Sam lay his hand carefully on Dean's chest, checking that he hadn't stopped breathing in the short space of time that he had been over at the door.
No.
Still breathing.
When the siren stopped suddenly, Sam yelled out, "In here!" The paramedics came rushing through the door seconds later. Sam stumbled back from the bed as they ran towards him. "Is he breathing?" one of them asked; as he put the bag that he was carrying, down on the bed, ripping it open to reach inside.
"Yes, he is. But he wasn't before."
"How long was he down?"
"Ah, minutes. I think. It felt longer. He had a pulse though, just wasn't breathing."
"Did you breathe for him?"
"Yes…"
"What's his name?"
"Dean. Dean Smith."
The paramedics finally set to work, checking Dean's heartbeat and attaching a series of wires to his chest and neck, so that they could monitor him closely. Calling out to him as they shook his shoulders, "Dean. Dean, can you hear me?"
"What happened?" the paramedic closest to Sam asked him without looking up.
"He told me he fell down a set of stairs. I wasn't there, so I… I didn't see it."
"Did it happen this morning?" the other paramedic asked as he cut Dean's shirt open. His face paled as he took in the deep bruise down Dean's right side; straight away, he was on the radio, attached to his shoulder, calling in that his patient had internal injuries and would need surgery immediately.
"This morning. Did it happen this morning?" the paramedic repeated the question.
"No. Last night."
"Did he tape up his own chest?"
"No. I did. We thought his ribs might be cracked. There was no bruising then. Not like that." Sam was starting to panic; he tried to remain calm.
"Was there anything else?" When Sam failed to respond again, the paramedic yelled, "Hey, buddy. We are trying to save his life. Need some help. Was there anything else? Did he have any other injuries?"
"He hit his head. Hard. I thought he might be concussed. But that was it, he walked in here. Nothing else seemed to be broken." As Sam was speaking, the other paramedic had left the room and returned shortly with a gurney; they loaded Dean up and wheeled him out of the room, the machine he was attached to beeping steadily. "Can I come?" Sam asked as they wheeled his brother past him.
"Sure." The paramedic replied as he jumped into the back of the ambulance, indicating that Sam should follow suit.
The drive to the hospital happened fast, sirens blaring the whole way. In what was only minutes, but seemed like hours to Sam, they quickly pulled into the emergency bay. As the door on the back of the ambulance was opened, the machine's beeping changed pitch, escalating rapidly, the lines moving erratically across the screen, "He's coding." the paramedic yelled to the people outside.
"Out. Now." one of the men in scrubs yelled at Sam and the paramedic, both exited the back of the vehicle quickly. The guy in the scrubs jumped in and started pumping Dean's heart with CPR. Sam's face crumbled as he realised his brother's heart had stopped. "I've got it. Let's get him out." yelled the guy who was now straddled across Dean's chest, pumping rhythmically ensuring that Dean's blood continued to move around his body.
Once the gurney was out of the ambulance, they rolled it inside and disappeared down a hallway; a nurse stopped Sam, telling him that he would have to wait here, only patients were allowed past this point.
Sam started pacing, back and forth. He kept trying Castiel, first telling him where he and Dean were now and then pleading with him to turn up. Eventually, Sam started praying to anyone who was listening, but nobody came. Sam consented to life-saving surgery when the nurse asked; yelling at her when she asked if there were any requests not to resuscitate, especially if there was a chance that Dean might end up in a vegetative state. As she left, Sam punched the wall, putting a large dent in it and only serving to hurt himself in the meantime.
Hours passed.
People came and went, in the emergency waiting room.
Sam paced back and forth, racking up miles worth of steps, but not making himself feel any better.
It was late afternoon when a doctor appeared in the waiting room asking, "Mr Smith?"
Sam was so busy he didn't hear the call, or more likely in his stressed-out state he didn't realise they were asking for him. "Mr Smith?" the doctor called, more loudly this time. Sam realised he was looking at him and a split second later he remembered that that was the name he had used for Dean. "Yes." he replied; suddenly he was unable to move, frightened that the doctor only had bad news for him.
The doctor walked slowly over to Sam.
Looking him up and down he said, "Your brother is out of surgery. It was touch and go, but we stopped the bleeding and he is in a critical but stable condition. He has lost a lot of blood."
Sam finally caught his breath. Looking up at the ceiling, he silently thanked the universe, knowing, full well that Chuck probably had nothing to do with the miracle that had just transpired. "Can I see him?" Sam asked, softly rubbing the hand he had injured when he hit the wall.
"Only if you let me fix up that hand first?" the doctor stated, as he saw that Sam was hurt.
Sam agreed and the pair walked away, down the same hall that they had taken Dean down. Once his arm was in plaster, a nurse took Sam to the private room where Dean lay amidst a series of machines, tubes and IV bags. "Dean…" he cried softly as he made his way over to the chair by the side of the bed.
"He's unconscious. Probably will be for a while." the nurse told him, "I'll get you a blanket and some water. There is a vending machine at the end of the corridor, it doesn't have much but it should see you through the night until the cafeteria opens in the morning."
"I can stay?"
"Yes. The doctor said to let you stay. Your brother is in a bad way and listed as critical. The doctor thinks it will be better if you stay here for the night."
Fear rolled down Sam's back; the nurse's comments had him wondering if the doctor hadn't sugar-coated Dean's condition. He reached out taking Dean's hand in his own. "I'm here." He whispered to his brother, "Don't you dare leave me…"
Sam settled back into the chair, to wait.
The big hand chased the small hand around the clock, silently catching and overtaking it, time and, time again.
The lights dimmed; nurses came and went.
The lights brightened; different nurses came and went.
So too, did a small team of doctors, who discussed internal injuries and complications that surgery may bring.
Sam sat.
Waiting.
Praying.
While nobody listened.
When the big hand, had caught the small one, over thirty times, things changed.
"Sammy?" came the groan from the bed.
Dean was awake.
Sam leaned over him, "Dean?" he asked quietly, not sure if he had just imagined the voice, because Dean lay as still as he had for all those hours just gone; his eyes closed, a relaxed look on his face.
"You took me to the hospital?" Dean's head rolled to the left, eyes opening slowly, blinking in the harsh light, until they focussed on the one thing they wanted to see, right now. Sam.
"Dean…" Sam said; an apology with a hint of I told you so, "You were bleeding internally. You were going to die."
"Did… die!"
"What? How do you know?"
"Saw Billie…" Sam shook his head, of course, Dean would have seen the reaper when his heart stopped in the back of the ambulance, "What did she say?" he asked Dean.
"Nothing… Just stared at me. I'm gonna go with, she was pissed… to see me… and then, she wasn't there anymore…"
Sam let out a small laugh, he didn't find it funny, he was just so relieved and that's how he had to express it. Hearing Sam laugh, Dean had a chuckle too, until the pain swept over him and his body went rigid, trying to not, let it run him down. "Dean?" Sam cried, worried for his brother, "I'll call a doctor…" he added as he reached for the call button.
"Sammy…" Dean croaked again, through clenched teeth as his breath came in short gasps, "S'ok…" he mumbled, slowly his breathing returned to normal as he added, "Just don't make me laugh…" trying to turn the grimace into a smile.
Sam nodded, anything, he would do anything for his brother. "What happened at the factory?" Dean finally asked when he felt everything return to the post-surgery normal.
"They found the security guard." Sam started, then shaking his head at the implied question in Dean's eyes, he explained, "Harper, said he drowned and it gets worse… there was no water on site. Nothing. Police are understandably baffled, but the good news is, they won't let the developers back in at all now and no court hearing is going to change that."
"Harper was here?"
"Yeah. When the security guard turned up dead, she panicked and called the motel. The manager told her an ambulance had come that morning and she turned up here."
"How long was I out?"
"Almost two days…"
"Geez…" Dean was amazed at how long he had been out and he immediately understood that the time held greater implications, "Cass?"
"I called. I prayed… There's been nothing… I don't know Dean, something must have happened to him…"
"Or I just don't warrant saving?"
"Dean… Don't say things like that. Of course, you warrant saving."
"And yet, here we are…"
Sam, who bowed his head low, greeted Dean's conclusion with great dismay. He tried to shake the feeling off, but he found himself getting angry instead. Not with Dean, but with Castiel, with the angels and with God. Dean realising something had just changed in his brother's demeanour, tried desperately to avert Sam's focus, "What about the research?" Sam looked up, blinking at Dean as if he had just asked him to dance or something equally stupid; rage was all he could see right now. "You did research… didn't you? Or have you just spent the last two days moping around?"
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, snapping out of his previous thoughts he retorted, "Of course… and there was nothing, other than what Harper told us and you already confirmed. There was nothing on the site before the factory and just the one death since then. You said you saw three different spirits, I saw two, but they could have been the same ones you saw."
Dean screwed his face up, Sam immediately tensed up thinking the worst, "Dean… do you want a doctor?" Dean shook his head, no, "I just feel… like there is something I should be remembering… but I can't put my finger on it…" he was struggling with his words, his breathing slightly laboured again; the pain meds must have been wearing off. Right on cue, a nurse came in stating, "Time for some more… Oh…" she saw Dean was awake on the bed, "you're awake… I'll just get the doctor." and then she turned abruptly and walked from the room… "Sammy…" Dean grabbed Sam's arm, "there is something I need to remember, something about what happened… but… I… can't…" Dean was getting frustrated and agitated now; a sweat broke out across his forehead. Sam tried to reassure him that it would be all right, that he would remember it in time, that he had to calm down, but for some reason, he could not.
The doctor arrived and immediately ordered the nurse to give him a sedative; Dean was now very agitated and clutching at his head, obviously in some pain. When Dean heard the doctor's order, he started to get more vocal and tried to get out of the bed, yelling and carrying on about having work to do and that they couldn't keep him there. The doctor tried to subdue Dean, but even in his weakened state, Dean was able to throw him off. In the end, it was Sam, tears welling up in his eyes, who held his brother down, while the nurse administered the sedative. All the time Dean was begging for them not to put him back under. He had to remember, he cried over and over again, even as the drugs took effect he continued to repeat the words, but it was as if someone was turning the volume down on him.
"We need an MRI. Now." the doctor barked at the nurse.
As they wheeled Dean out of the room, all Sam could do was look on. Frustrated at feeling so helpless; he had all but given up on Castiel and God.
Two hours passed before the bought Dean back to the room. He was still unconscious and accompanied by the doctor; Sam had a sudden feeling of unease.
"What's wrong?" Sam jumped on the doctor as he entered the room. The startled doctor took a moment to regain his composure as the nurse hooked Dean back up to all the machines in the room. When she was finished, she silently left the room without looking at Sam; now he knew something was seriously wrong.
"Perhaps you should have a seat." the doctor began.
"I don't want a seat. Just tell me what it is."
"Ok… Ok… I don't know how to say this…" the doctor absent-mindedly put his right hand over his mouth, squeezing gently on either side of his face, before dragging his hand down and cupping his chin. Looking back at Sam, he began, "There are some lesions on Dean's brain. That just simply shouldn't be there."
"Lesions?"
"Yes. Lesions. It looks… though it isn't, shouldn't be… possible… but it looks like someone has applied electrodes to your brother's brain that have caused damage. A lot of damage."
"What does that mean? What are you going to do for him?"
The doctor sighed, he moved to reach out to Sam, but Sam stepped back, afraid of what the doctor was going to say next.
"I'm sorry, son. There isn't anything that we can do. This isn't something that can be fixed. This type of damage… it is permanent. If Dean wakes up, and that is a big if, he will most likely be in a vegetative state." the doctor watched Sam closely, scanning for signs of shock, ready to help him as needed.
Sam, for his part, kept it together. His breathing accelerated slightly and became heavier as he tried to hold back the tears; he was also trying to stop himself from taking the doctor and smashing him into the wall. How could this have happened? Black spots started to appear before Sam's eyes, as the room started slowly spinning. The doctor reached out to him, but Sam shook him off; muttering something about needing air, Sam shoved passed the doctor and ran from the room. He ran the length of the hall, barrelling into the door to the stairs, unable, to even contemplate standing still and waiting for an elevator. As he took the stairs, two at a time, he remembered the last set of stairs he had run down, running to help his brother. Now he was running away. Running from the horror that was in that room. Sam made it to the gutter in the parking lot before doubling over and retching. He had not eaten for hours, too worried for his brother, but his body still tried to expel the objects that were causing his gut so much pain. If only it were that simple.
Images and memories of Dean over the last few days, and then, the last few weeks, and months, flew through Sam's mind. The bitumen in front of him, blended in with the dark sky as the two swirled and swirled. The motion made Sam feel even sicker. Eventually, shock took over and Sam collapsed onto the edge of the gutter. For such a tall man, he seemed to occupy the smallest of spaces in that moment. Huddled over, hugging his legs, trying to find the reason.
A tap on his shoulder, brought him back to reality quickly as he sprung to his feet in a defensive position. He was glad that he hadn't struck out when he saw who was standing in front of him.
Billie.
"What the…"
Instead of answering, Billie just reached out and touched Sam on the shoulder again. Suddenly he found himself in the middle of a street, in the middle of nowhere. Sam's mind could not comprehend what had happened; Billie still stood in front of him, an annoyed look on her face, staring at him.
"Time's ticking…" was somehow her way of explanation.
"I don't understand…" Sam blurted out as Billie disappeared. Sam's mouth opened, as he stared in disbelief at the road in front of him. What was he supposed to do now? Why had she brought him here? What did she…
"Sammy…"
Sam spun around to see Dean, standing in front of him. "Dean?" he asked cautiously.
"Yeah… We don't have a lot of time, so, listen up. The spirits are trapped; that is what I was trying to remember. When I fell, I was thrown away from the bottom of the stairs, but the ghosts did not come near me. They could not move, I am sure of it… The girl ghost even asked me to save her. There must have been a building, before the factory. I know… I know…" he said trying to shush his brother's interruption. "All the history says that nothing was there, but what if they didn't want it recorded. Like it was, that, bad…" again he looked at his brother, trying to warn him that time was slipping away, "Maybe a serial killer. Or maybe it just… I KNOW… I KNOW… just a second…" Dean was looking past Sam as he yelled the last few words. Sam spun around but he didn't see and nor had he heard anyone say anything. All of sudden Dean was talking, really, fast, "It doesn't matter; they're trapped. Find the kill zone and then you need to…" Dean's body started to lose its form, kind of smoking away, looking down Dean started to panic realising he hadn't finished what he wanted to say, his final whispered word, as he disappeared completely, didn't help Sam at all, "Missouri…"