The Way Home
Chapter 17
Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Jim rushed into John's room behind the doctor's and nurse's, the sight before him froze him in place. John's body was arching off the bed, his legs and arms jerking, the heart monitor screaming at the too rapid heart rate it was registering, the ventilator making a clicking sound that told those in the room it was being of no use giving the patient it was connected to the adequate amount of oxygen. But through the chaos the Pastor saw Dean's form, next to the bed, trying to hold his father's shoulder down in an attempt to still the thrashing. Bobby came bursting in the door; his eye's going from John and the people surrounding him to Jim, "What happened?"
The Guardian could do nothing but watch and shake his head, "I don't know…" the older man whispered as the room suddenly went silent.
"I need a crash cart now!" the doctor yelled as a nurse attempted to pull Dean away from his father.
"NO!" the teen yelled, jerking from her grip, his hand grabbing his father's, "God Damnit Dad! Don't do this to me, you fucking fight this you selfish bastard, don't you run out on me! DAD!" Jim and Bobby quickly moved forward as they saw the doctor preparing to start resuscitative measures on the Knight.
"Dean!" Jim wrapped his arms around the boy, Bobby attempting to break the grip the teen had on his father, "Dean let go so they can help him! Now Dean!" The Pastor rarely raised his voice to the boys, even when he should have, he was normally the perfect, indulgent Uncle, but Jim knew if John had any chance at all, Dean needed to be pulled back.
"Let me go! Get the fuck off me!" Dean struggled and fought the hold on him, never realizing it was Jim and Bobby this time instead of some nurse. Grabbing the boy around the waist as Bobby broke the teen's hold on John; the Guardian pulled the boy back until his back hit the wall.
"Dean! Stop it Son, Stop!" Jim yelled into Dean's ear as the struggle continued. Jim knew the only thing saving them from the boy hurting either Jim or himself was the fact Bobby had grabbed both of the boy's hands when he started swinging.
"Damnit boy stop!" Bobby finally barked in the boys face. Dean stilling almost instantly as it finally registered who had a hold of him.
"Bobby?" The fight left the teen as he heard the doctor yell 'clear', "No…Dad!"
Jim felt Dean sag in his arms at the doctor's shout, slowly releasing the boy, Jim kept a hand wrapped around the teen's arm as another 'clear' was called out and they watched John's body arch from the current that was trying to restart his heart.
"Dad, no…" Dean whispered as he attempted to take a step forward, Jim's arm and Bobby's body blocking his way, "no."
"I got something!" One of the nurses shouted out, all eyes going to the small green-hued screen as one blip peaked, then another and another, a rhythm returning.
"Mr. Winchester, can you hear me?" The three heard the doctor say, "I'm going to take this tube out so it's easier for you to breathe okay?"
At the doctor's words, Jim released his hold of Dean, the boy making his way back toward his father. Nearing the bed a sob escaped him as he noticed his father's eye's blink. "Dad?" The reaction was immediate as John's head turned toward the sound of his son's voice. Covering the last couple steps quickly Dean grabbed his father's hand and this time, his father gripped his son's hand back.
"Mr. Winchester, I need you to try and cough, so I can get this out okay?" John's subtle nod told the doctor he understood, "On three… one, two…three." It was a gag more than a cough, but it did the trick and the physician removed the breathing tube that was no longer needed.
Once the tube was out, John took in a hitched breath, followed by another, slowly his breathing evened out as the nurse placed an oxygen mask over the older man's face, while Dr. Williams starting to check over his patient. John's pain-filled brown eye's met his son's tear-filled green ones as the boy placed his hand on his father's head, "Dad, Can you hear me?" Dean's voice broke with emotion.
John closed his eyes, tears escaping; slowly he reopened them, giving his son a small nod, weakly squeezing his hand, "D…"
"Don't talk, just rest now." Dean leaned down and kissed his father's forehead, running his finger's through the older man's hair, "I got you back now, just rest, I'm not going anywhere."
John could see the tears trailing down his son's face, feeling a couple drip on his own face as he felt his son kiss his forehead. It tore at John's heart the pain and fear he saw reflected in the moss-green gaze, but he couldn't help drawing in a deep-breath of relief. Caleb had told him his son's were safe, and even though he didn't see Sammy, if Dean was here then Sammy was safe as well. Raising his hand slightly, John brushed a tear from his son's cheek as the boy again gripped John's fingers tightly. "L…v…y…o…" John mumbled from behind the mask as he tried to convey how he felt about his son, they were words spoken to rarely, but he needed the boy to know.
The instant a relieved smile crossed his son's tear-stained face John knew Dean understood what he was saying, again running his hand through his father's hair, the boy replied with a broken voice, "Love you too Dad." John felt the hint of a smile cross his own face, as his body gave in to the exhaustion he was feeling. The comfort of his son by his side allowed him to drift into a restful, healing sleep.
Oxoxoxoxox
Mac was sure the last two days had taken twenty years off his life, as he sat with his head in his hands going over the events that had transpired over the forty-eight hour period. The fear that had gripped him when he found his son unconscious in Jim's driveway was like nothing he had ever felt, it was a breath-stealing type of fear that had nearly paralyzed him. But the events of six hours ago brought a new, earth-shattering terror as he watched the heart monitor attached to his only son flat-line. Mac's world stopped at that moment as the whine of the machine screamed at him that he had lost his son.
In that moment Mac could clearly remember his son visiting him in his dream. Reassuring the older man that he was okay and would soon return to him, that somehow his abilities were keeping him unconscious for reason's neither seemed to understand. Over the hours that followed, up until the moment his son's heart stopped Mac had held on to those assurances, but in one life-stealing moment that assurance was shattered.
Emotions, the likes of which the Scholar never knew he possessed took a hold of his soul. The utter despair that filled him as he watched the doctor attempt to restart his son's stilled heart, told Mac that he may not survive if his son didn't. For sixty long seconds the father had watched as his son's doctor started resuscitative measures to bring back a life that was being stolen away too soon.
In those sixty seconds the last ten-years of his life flew before the Psychic's eyes, from the day he had found the comatose boy, strapped to a bed in a Psychiatric Hospital, to the day he had formally adopted the troubled teen. The trials and tribulations that followed as Caleb learned to accept that there were actually people in this world that cared about him, that loved him. The pride Mac felt as he watched his son graduate high school, then just a few months ago college. Mac had wanted so much for his son, but as the young man's body arched on the bed the Doctor saw the future shattering before him.
Now, Mac closed his eyes as he listened to the steady breathing coming from the bed beside him. A sound he had feared had been lost to him forever over those seconds that seemed like a life-time. Rubbing his hands over his face the older man again wiped away the tears the seemed to be a steady stream as shadows of a fear he prayed he would never feel again, still played in his mind.
The Scholar glanced across the room; Sammy was curled up in a chair, finally allowing sleep to claim him. Mac didn't miss the effect those sixty seconds had caused on the youngest Winchester. The boy had grown quiet, his smaller hand reaching for Caleb's more than once over the past six hours, like the child needed the reassurance only physical contact could bring. The older man understood that as he found himself reaching toward his son more, running his hand through his sleeping son's hair, squeezing his hand in hopes for a squeeze in return.
But now, his eyes closed again, Mac allowed the steady breathing reaffirm that Caleb was still with him, though he hadn't woken up yet, the constant rhythm kept the specter of loss at bay.
"Dad?"
The whispered word had Mac's head jerking up as his grey eye's met the golden gaze of his son's. "Caleb?" the older man stood, taking the step that brought him to his son's side, grabbing the younger man's hand, the squeeze he had been praying for finally returned. "Thank God…" Mac ran his hand through his son's hair as he leaned down, kissing the younger man's forehead, pulling back to look into the boys open eye's.
Caleb saw fear, pain, worry and relief all reflected in his Father's watery gaze. He watched as tears slipped from the older man's eyes as he felt tears fill his own, "What happened?" Caleb whispered as he heard a sob escape his Dad.
"What do you remember?" Mac asked quietly as emotions caused his voice to crack.
Mac's hand still rested on Caleb's head as he watched the younger man close his eye's a minute, a tear slipping from the side as he opened them again, fear flashing in the gold orbs, "Johnny!"
Caleb attempted to sit up, Mac's strong arm on his shoulder held him in place, "John's okay, Son. He's in a hospital near Bobby's place, we're working on getting him transferred to Louisville, but he's okay."
A visible weight seemed to be lifted from Caleb as he again closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his face. "Deuce?" The young psychic looked around the room; his gaze landing on Sammy's sleeping form, then quickly returning to his father.
The Doctor could see his son fighting the sleep his body needed to recover from all that had happened, but he knew the younger man wouldn't give in until he knew his family was safe. "Dean's with his father, he's okay too." Mac reached up and wiped another tear that escaped his son's eyes as they blinked heavily. "You need to rest now, we can talk more later."
Nodding slightly Caleb closed his eye's, comforted by his father's presence, feeling the pull of sleep the young man whispered, "Love you Dad."
Mac chocked back another sob as he heard the quiet words of his son. Running a soothing hand over Caleb's forehead, the older man whispered back, "I love you too, Son."