I was really floored by the response to the last chapter, and wanna thank everyone for taking the time to read and review. lol, I really have to say you Dean fan girls are evil, remind me never to cross any of you. Seth
Chapter Six
"Oh, the hell you can't go against direct orders," Hank shot back, dropping the ventilator bag and snatching the paddles out of her hands. "I pretty much think when someone's flat lining it's the perfect time to become a rule breaker."
"Protocol clearly states no more than three shock for a severe hypothermia," the female paramedic argued, grabbing the ventilator bag, and squeezing oxygen into Dean's lungs. "You do this and you're risking more than just your job."
"You see that damn flat line," He jabbed one of the paddles toward the screen, "that's telling me to say fuck the job an' try an' save a life – an' if you weren't such a cold-hearted bitch, you'd feel the same way." Twisting the dial, upping the jules, Hank placed the paddles over Dean's chest. "Clear," he hollered as the beeper sounded, staring her dead in the eyes, and when she failed to let go of the ambu-bag, he threatened, "Clear or so help me God, you'll be joining him on a stretcher out of here."
"Mandy, just let him do it," the male paramedic cut in, and lifted his hands away from Dean.
For a moment, Mandy looked as if she might argue further, but as Hank lowered the paddles to hover over Dean's chest, she pulled her hands away. "Come on, Dean, Sam's waiting for you at the hospital. So don't you dare let him down." He delivered the shock, ending his career, and Dean's lifeless body lifted off the stretcher. His sights immediately shot to the small screen, and holding his breath he waited. A wavering blip appeared across the inky black monitor, followed shortly by another and another. "That's it, Dean, you keep fighting."
Hank handed the paddles back to Mandy, and pushed back against the wall of the copter. "Like I said, sometimes ya jus' gotta say fuck the protocol, an' go on instinct." Through sheer determination alone, he kept his eyelids from fluttering closed. If he allowed himself to succumb to the weariness and pain swiftly overtaking him, the nightmares would begin again, just as they always did after a rescue. I saved them, Sarah. Tears brimmed in his eyes, recalling his wife's beautiful smile, and the way she pressed her body close to his and kissed him for the last time before she died. I save them the way I should've saved you.
"Saint Anthony's this is Mercy Flight Two," Hank heard Ed call out into the mouth piece attached to his flight helmet, "We're preparing for final descent, please have doctors on standby."
"Mercy Flight Two," A female voice came back over the intercom a moment later, "Doctor Collins' is awaiting your arrival."
"Saint Anthony's," Mandy called into her headset, "Please be advised patient is still registering arrhythmias. Asystole approximately two minutes. Four shocks delivered en route."
"Will advise, Mercy Flight Two."
"He has a damn name," Hank muttered, liking Mandy less and less as the moments ticked by. "It's Dean. And he has a brother who was willing to die to save him, so get your head outta your frigid ass an' treat him like a damn human being instead of just another job you have to do."
The helicopter landed on the heliport. As the propellers slowed, several doctors and nurses, ducked their heads and rushed forward with a gurney. As a team, they quickly extricated Dean from the pit of the copter, and careful to shielded from the harsh, cold wind, they wheeled him through the double doors, and headed for the Emergency Room. Limping to catch up to them, Hank listened as they rattled off Dean's vitals, and course of action to bring his core temperature back to normal.
"Who's on call in Ortho?" Hank heard the tall doctor with graying hair ask as they took a right turn down a long corridor.
"Doctor Spellman," A pretty brunette instantly responded, "I'll have him paged when we get to the ER."
"We have to bring his temp back up first. Have him on standby," the doctor ordered, taking a brief moment to appraise Dean's left leg. "Advise him that we might need to amputate below the left knee."
"You're not cuttin' off his leg," Hank heard himself saying, and mentally kicked himself for interfering as the doctor shot him a questioning look. He knew he shouldn't have interfered, knew he was already in enough trouble, but if there was one shot in hell that they could save Dean's leg, he couldn't back down. "You do whatever it is you have to do to save him, but you at least try and save his leg first. Got me?"
"Are you a member of the immediate family, son?" The Doctor lifted a brow, appraising Hank's appearance, and pointed at the name on his orange rescue jacket. "Hank, you've done your job, now let us do ours."
Although the doctor hadn't spoken harshly, Hank stopped in his steps, the mental high of saving a life leaving him rush, plummeting him back into heartbreaking despair. He forced a smile, no longer seeing Dean on the gurney, but Sarah instead as they wheeled away from him. "His brother's here in the ER," he called out to them, "before you cut off his leg, make sure Sam knows about it." Hank spun around and trudged toward the waiting room, not about to leave until he was certain both Sam and Dean were going to be all right.
Hank took a seat in the corner of the room, and through lowered lashes, he watched the families of all the patients. From a single glance, he could tell which families had brought their loved ones in with life threatening injuries, and which ones were there for minor accidents. A man with a scruffy beard, and wearing a trucker cap caught his attention as they locked eyes, neither one giving in to the awkwardness of staring at a total stranger. His gaze strayed to the white cross on Hank's jacket for a moment, and then he looked back into his eyes.
The older man stood, and Hank noted the slight hesitation in his steps as he walked toward him. "Mind if I take a seat," he asked in a gruff voice as he motioned to the chair beside Hank's, and without waiting for Hank to respond he sat down. "My name's Bobby – Bobby Singer, an' I think you're probably one of the men who helped to Sam's life. An' if ya are, I just wanted to thank you." From the way he lowered the brim of his hat, and the slight tremor in his tone, Hank could tell he was uncomfortable with showing his emotions, but also truly grateful for what the rescuers had done to save Sam and Dean.
"Yeah. Are you related to them?" Hank asked, recalling that Sam had said his last name was Winchester.
"No, but we're family nonetheless." Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he drew a hand across his bearded chin. "I was on my way here to help – we were gonna go mountain climbing."
From the way Bobby couldn't meet his gaze, and changed what he had intended to say midstream, Hank knew he was lying. H-he would die to s-save you – y-you do the same for h-him. Please do the same for him. Sam's last words tumbled around in Hank's mind, and he recalled how neither man had dressed appropriately for trekking through the mountains. Whatever the hell they were doing up there, it had nothing to do with sightseeing.
"Well, seein' that neither one knew how to dress for the weather, I'm sure they could've used your help."
He looked to the double doors leading to the Emergency Room for a moment, and from there his gaze strayed to a young woman slumped in a chair. Her head was bowed, dark wispy bangs shading her eyes from view, but from the way her body trembled, he could tell she was crying. An older woman with graying hair tied back in a bun sat beside her, wrapped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders and drew her closer into an embrace. In their downcast faces and postures, he could tell that whomever lay beyond the automatic hospital doors meant the world to them. Hank refocused his attention on Bobby, and in the older man's glassy brown eyes, he saw the love and fear he felt for the two Winchesters, yet was trying so hard to hide.
"It's none of my business what they were doing up there," he murmured, although he couldn't deny the stab of curiosity that pricked at his mind. "I'm just glad they both made it off the damn thing alive."
"So Dean – h-he's alive?" Relief flooded the man's weathered features, and Hank understood the reason why he had failed to mention Dean up to this point. Love was evident in eye line and detail etched into the man's face. Whoever this man was and however he came to be in their lives, he truly was family to them.
How the fuck am I suppose to say he'll probably die? A thick lump formed in Hank's throat, making in nearly impossible to speak. An' even if he does beat the odds, how the hell do I tell him that he's gonna lose his leg?
"He was in critical condition when we brought him in, but they're doing everything they can to save him." The words left a bitter taste in Hank's mouth. He'd entrusted Sarah's life to a bunch of men in white coats who didn't know the first thing about how wonderful she truly was. They didn't know that a single smile from her could set his heart to beating so fast in his chest that it sometimes staggered him at how much he loved her. And these same doctors could never know how much Dean meant to those who loved him.
"He's – he's, well, if he lives he's probably gonna lose his leg." Hank swallowed hard against the painful knot constricting his throat. There was really no doubt in his mind that they would have to take Dean's left leg. He had seen the damage done to it, but even if he hadn't broken it so badly the severe frostbite made it a matter of life and death.
"No. He can't." Bobby gave a firm shake of his head, eyes now brimming with moisture. "You don't know what that would do to him." He angrily swiped away the tears slipping down his cheeks to dampen his beard. "It'd kill him."
"I'm sorry." The words slipped effortlessly from Hank's mouth like they had done so many times in the past when faced with family members who had looked to him to save their loved ones. Each failure twisted at his guts, making it harder and harder to find a reason to keep on fighting so damn hard. "I really tried – you have to believe I did my best to get to him in time."
"You should've tried harder," Bobby breathed, anger now mingling with sadness in his stormy eyes. "He would've given everything he had to save you. So I'm sorry to say, but your best just wasn't good enough. It wasn't even damn near close to being good enough."