Here is the next chapter. It is longer than ch. 23. I hope you like it.
Cindy.
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FOUR WEEKS LATER
Sam and Dean sat across from Dr. Ameche, the doctors hands folded on top of his desk. Sam's chin rested on his chest, his eyes staring at a spot on his jeans. His hands lay unmoving on his lap, his shoulders sagged. Dean stared at the doctor intently, waiting for him to speak. After a few minutes the doctor cleared his throat then looked up.
"Doc, can we just get on with this?" Dean spoke up, breaking the ominous silence.
Sam sat unmoving, never lifting his gaze from his knee. Dean turned his head slightly, glancing uncomfortably at his younger sibling, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.
"Sam," the doctor started. "You have worked so hard and have made great improvements to your right hand. You are nearly at ninety percent and I couldn't be happier with that."
Sam let out a soft grunt, but said nothing. Dean continued watching Sam, then turned to the doctor when Sam remained silent.
"What about his left hand? Why hasn't it improved?"
"As I said before, the nerve damage to his left hand was far more extensive than his right. The infra-red treatment did not work as we had hoped it would. It was a long shot to get him even the slightest movement, and we got him more movement than I thought we would. That's a good thing," the doctor answered.
Sam scoffed, speaking up for the first time. "Good for who?" He lifted his left arm from his lap, his hand hanging helplessly. "Does this look good to you? I'm moving my fingers. Look close! Did you see it? NO! I didn't think so," Sam cried as his fingers moved ever so slightly.
Dean reached over and gently placed his hand on Sam's arm, squeezing slightly. "Easy Sam...it's okay."
Sam pulled his arm away from Dean's grasp, then looked at his brother.
"It's not okay Dean! God...why does everyone keep saying that?! It's not okay...I'm not okay!" Sam jumped to his feet and headed to the door.
Dean stood and walked to his brother who was having trouble opening the door. "Sam, sit down. Please?" He looked at Sam pleadingly, reaching out to grab his arm.
Sam pulled away and backed closer to the door. "Why? What do I need to be here for? I already know what he's going to say! I'm never going to be whole again. I'm never going to be able to use my hand. What more is there?"
"Sam...please?"
Sam looked at Dean. He saw concern and desperation there. He hated that he put that look on his brother's face. "I'll just go sit in the car. Can you talk to the doctor?" he whispered softly.
"Sam..."
"I just need to get out of here Dean. Please? I'll just go to the car. I promise." Sam was on the verge of tears and felt like he was suffocating. His eyes pled with Dean and Dean knew he couldn't say no.
"Okay, fine. But you better be there when I get out."
Sam nodded at Dean, then succeeded in opening the door. He rushed out of the doctor's office. He hurried down the hall and pushed through the doors into the crisp morning air. Once outside, he leaned against the wall as he closed his eyes tight and drew in several deep breaths. After a few moments he made his way to the Impala and climbed into the passenger seat after finally opening the door. He sat there staring at his hands, his spirit deflating with every passing minute. He couldn't feel any more useless. He wondered what he would do. He had told Dean that he would leave if this scenario presented itself, but he was afraid. He didn't want to leave, didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to be an even bigger burden to Dean either.
Sam's breathing hitched and he suddenly felt the need to get out of the car. He got the door open with some difficulty and stumbled out of the car, forgetting to close the door. He ambled across the snow covered lawn and soon found a bench around the corner of the building. He brushed the snow away with his arm then sat down. He doubled over, putting his head between his knees. He sat this way for a few minutes then straightened up. He slumped against the backrest and squeezed his eyes shut, tears falling freely down his cold cheeks. Snow began to fall, but Sam was oblivious to it. After several minutes he began to shiver. He wrapped his arms around his body, but made no attempt to rise and go back to the shelter of the Impala.
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A half hour later Dean emerged from the hospital and quickly walked to his car. Snow had been falling for some time now as indicated by the fresh layer on the previously shoveled walk. As Dean approached the Impala he stopped dead in his tracks. Where he expected to see Sam's tall form in the vehicle, the sight that met him was an empty car, the passenger door wide open. He rushed to the open door and peered in the car, hoping to find Sam lying across the seat. He found nothing. He turned around and scanned the hospital grounds. There were a few people walking toward the main entrance but no sign of Sam. Dean's heart began to beat hard in his chest as he started to panic.
"Where the hell are you Sam?" Dean cried to himself as he frantically ran across the lawn, his eyes searching.
Dean came around the corner of the building and immediately caught sight of Sam still huddled on the bench. He ran to his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Sam! What the hell?" he cried.
Sam slowly looked up, his eyes puffy and red. His hair hung in wet clumps around his face. His nose and cheeks were flushed. He was shivering hard enough to make his teeth chatter. He said nothing. He just sat there staring into his brother's eyes, a silent plea evident in his large, hazel orbs.
"God Sam! You're freezing. You're gonna get pneumonia again!" Dean hissed as he took Sam's hands into his own. He pulled Sam up from the bench and led him across the lawn to the Impala. Sam slowly slid into the seat and Dean slammed the door shut behind him. Dean rushed to the driver's side and was soon sitting behind the wheel. He started the car then sat back against the seat, allowing the car to warm up.
Dean glanced over at his shivering sibling then reached into the back seat where he retrieved a green, woolen blanket. He wrapped the blanket around Sam tightly then turned the heater on full blast once the car had warmed enough. He put the Impala in reverse and backed out of his spot, then put it in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. He glanced at Sam who still hadn't uttered a single word, nor had he moved a muscle, save for the shivering.
"What were you thinking Sam? You scared the shit out of me you know!"
Sam glanced sideways at Dean, but kept quiet. He turned his head forward again and lowered his eyes to his lap.
"So you're not gonna talk to me? Sam, you realize you could get sick again right? You could end up back in the hospital."
"I'm sorry..." Sam whispered, never lifting his eyes.
"Sam, I know you think this is the end of the world, but it's not. We can work around this. You have almost total use of your right hand. We can do this Sam."
"Dean, I'm sorry I scared you. I'm tired. I don't want to talk about this right now. Can you just take me back to the motel?" Sam said softly.
"Sam, we need to talk about this."
"Not right now Dean. I don't feel well and I just want to sleep. We'll talk later, okay?"
"We should go in and have you checked out."
"No. I'm okay, I just need to sleep."
"Alright Sammy, but if you get worse, I'm bringing you back here."
Sam gave Dean a weak smile then rested his head on the headrest, closing his eyes. Dean shook his head slightly then turned his attention back to the road. Ten minutes later he pulled into the motel lot and parked in front of their room. He got out of the car and walked to the passenger door, opening it then he softly shook Sam's shoulder.
"We're here Sam."
Sam opened his eyes and slowly climbed from the car, the blanket still pulled around him. Dean led him into the room, nodding at Bobby as they entered. Bobby was busy reading the paper, looking for a possible hunt.
"So, how'd it go?" he inquired as he stood up. He turned questioning eyes toward Dean when he noticed Sam's wet hair and flushed face.
Dean shook his head, signaling to Bobby to wait. Bobby nodded then helped Dean get Sam situated on his bed. Dean removed Sam's coat and shoes then laid him down and pulled the covers up over his shivering body. He went to the bathroom and came out a minute later with some pills and water.
"Here Sam, take these," he instructed as he helped Sam up into a sitting position.
Sam popped the pills into his mouth then washed them down with a drink of the water. He laid back down and was asleep in minutes. Dean watched his brother for several minutes before he moved over to the table where Bobby was once again seated. He sat on the chair opposite Bobby and slowly looked at Bobby's face.
"He's giving up Bobby. The doctor said they can't do any more for him. What use he has right now is all he's going to get. I don't know what to do. I don't how to help him."
Bobby glanced at Sam, then back to Dean. "You keep doing what you always do. You watch out for him, let him know you're always there. Let him know you love him. He'll come around Dean. Sam's strong; he'll come around. You'll see."
"I hope you're right Bobby."
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So, let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated.
Cindy.