hey! This is chapter 12. Hope you all like it!
Disclaimer- i own nothing!
Chapter 12
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
The noise was beginning to annoy Dean. He opened his eyes sluggishly. He blinked. He quickly
realised what the noise was. It was a machine monitoring, what he could only guess to be his own
heart rate. He was slightly relieved to hear the steady noise. At least he seemed to be alive. But were
was he?
Dean was lying down in a bed. He was oddly comfortable under the plain cotton sheets. From were
he lay he could see that he was in a long white walled room. He could see the bottoms of at least 10
beds lining the walls. Each bed had a similar machine beside it and a single chair. Some of which were
occupied by anxious looking people. Noting the solemn looks on the faces and the unmissable smell of
disinfectant in the air, Dean guessed. The last thing he remebered was passing out, then seeing
Sammy. His stomach knotted slightly in fear and guilt. In all the time he had been awake he had not
thought of his family once. What had happened to Sammy? What about his dad?
He turned his head, the only movement he could really manage at the moment, hoping he could call for
a nurse. It is a damn hospital he reasoned there is bound to be some help around here. He
stopped when he noticed a man on his other side. The man was slumped on the chair, which was
pulled close to his bed. His head was resting on the edge on the bed in his arms. The man was clearly
asleep.
"Dad." Dean was surprised by the sound of his own voice. It sounded hoarse with disuse.
John Winchester stirred immediately. He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. The looked bloodshot.
John was unshaven. He looked exhausted. However, when he noticed Dean was awake and alert he
paused.
"Dean?" He asked cautiously, unwilling to believe his son was finally awake, "Dean son?"
"Sammy...crash...demon..." Dean slurred slightly. He was anxious. He needed reassurance. He
needed his dad to be his father.
John reached out and squeezed Deans shoulder. His eyes watered. "Thank you..." He whispered. His
eyes galnced, out of habit, toward the crucifix he had wrapped around the pole on the top of Deans
hospital bed.
Above the crucifix, on the top of the bed, he had lovingly placed a picture of Mary. That way, he
reasoned, his wife could watch over her sons as well.
"You are safe now."
"...Crash." Dean was insistent.
"I took care of it." JOhns voice was firm. Dean recognised the tone. It meant that the coversation was
over.
"Sammy." Dean only spoke one word. It was a question that John recognised. Where was his brother.
He wanted to know where Sam was.
"He is okay." John was deliberately vague. He needed to placate Dean for the moment. He knew his
son. He was the first to admit Dean was uncontrolable when it came to his youngest welfare. Like a
caged bull at times, he liked to think. He was proud of it. His son was loyal. His son was brave and
his son was an excellent big brother. What more could a parent want?
"More..." Dean narrowed his eyes. He was sick of half answers. He could clearly tell that his father
was lying. He had learned Johns "tell" at the ripe old age of twelve. When John lied he immediately
scratched his ear and moved onto his chin. John was currently scratching his ear.
"No Dean." John was worried. Dean needed to calm down. He raised a hand, catching the eyes of the
nurses at the station in the middle of the room, and shouted, "Hey!MY son. My son is awake."
"Sam!" Dean fought against the drugs that were pumping in his veins. The drugs that were keeping his
pain at bay. His movements were slow. He swung one leg out from under the covers. John was quick
to react.
Taking his sons leg back onto the bed. "Calmdown Dean. You just woke up from a damn coma. You
cannot go anywhere." John touched the lower part of Deans stomach.
"Don't care...Sam."
"Well I do." John was frustrated by Dean. His son was acting exactly like he normally would. To him,
it was like nothing had changed. He did not know that he had almost died 3 times. His brain, over the
course of the past ten days had been without oxygen and his heart did not beat for a total of 10
minutes. Ten of the most aganosing minutes of his life. He did not want a repeat of that. He also did
not want Dean to be burdened with the knowledge. It gave him the shivers to think of how Dean
would react to this knowledge.
"SAM!"
"He is here Dean," replied John with a sigh.
Dean frowned. John closed his eyes and leaned to his right. Dean looked over.
"He is beside you Dean. He has never been far."
There, immobile on the bed lay Sam. His eyes were closed. A tube protruded from his mouth. His
face was pale as death. Sam did not look peaceful. He looked gaunt. If it was even possible, his hair
had grow longer. It hung limply about his face.
"Sammy..."