Alright guys, here we go; another chapter. Sorry it took me longer than I'd expected. I've been inundated with tests, one after another! But I finally got the chapter out. We're nearing the end. I think another 2, maybe 3 chapters and I'm done with this baby. Hope you enjoy!
Sam is okay. He comes through the surgery with flying colors, wakes up from anesthesia without any complications, and it turns out the rod didn't hit any vital organs. He lost a lot of blood, will be in some pain for a few weeks, but otherwise shouldn't end up with any adverse side effects. And even though Dean can't see any of this with his own eyes he trusts his brother's voice, trusts Sam when he admits unwaveringly that he's a little sore, but otherwise alright.
As soon as they're sure Sam's going to be fine Bobby loses it, spends a good twenty minutes going on and on about how stupid they were to head out on the hunt unprepared. Turns on Sam for going in without backup, for dragging Dean along on his mission with no regard for his brother's well-being, no consideration as to what would have happened if Sam had been unconscious the whole time.
Of course, Bobby doesn't leave things with just Sam. No, he's got a whole slew of discipline to throw at Dean, too, which just makes things even worse. He rails at Dean for not using his brain, for not convincing Sam to wait for backup. It's a testament to how little any of them consider Dean a capable hunter anymore that Bobby discounts him as nothing more than baggage, and Dean and Sam don't bother to correct him.
Worst of all, Bobby berates Dean for being dumb enough to risk driving the car out on the open road. Never mind it was Sam's only chance at rescue, he's still upset that it could have led to an accident.
All the while Dean shrinks into the wall paper and feels about an inch tall as Bobby voices the same thoughts Dean has only been brave enough to think. He knows Bobby's is only speaking out of love and concern for the boys, probably only means about half of what he's saying. But that doesn't change the fact that it's got Dean thinking, worrying once again about how much of a liability he is to Sam, how his blindness could have gotten his little brother killed.
"None of this is Sam's fault," Dean insists, trying to place himself between Bobby and Sam. "He didn't do anything wrong."
"Don't you be protecting him," Bobby growls. "You both were stupid. You both made some bad choices out there."
"He's right, Dean," Sam adds. "I should have known better. All of this could have been avoided if I'd just put more thought into things before I talked to you." Before I let you come with me, remains unspoken.
But the whole conversation, both spoken and implied, is upsetting on so many levels and it's not long before Bobby finally drops it altogether in a huff and a foot stomping out the door. He's clearly angry, obviously needs to go somewhere to blow off some steam. But apparently he's realized what the accusations are doing to Dean, has decided that it's not worth continuing if all they're going to do is eradicate all the confidence boosting they've been working on with Dean since he lost his sight.
Sam makes a half-hearted attempt to holler after the older hunter, but stops when he sees Dean sitting there, shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I don't care what the old man says. You did good, Dean. You burned the body, you got me out of there, got me help. A lesser man probably would have just given up."
"I could have gotten you killed, Sam."
"The ghost was doing a pretty good job of that without your help, Dean. I don't really think anything you might have done would have made things worse."
Dean slumps further down in his seat, dead eyes staring at his hands instead of trying to find Sam. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't been there."
Sam sighs, frustrated. "If you weren't there I'd probably still be lying on that ground bleeding to death. Maybe already dead. You did fine, Dean. I can't have asked for better back-up."
It's a useless fight, one no one is going to win, and Dean really doesn't have it in him to tell Sam that backup with working vision would have been a hundred times better than what he took in. They end the argument in awkward silence, yet Dean stays in the room both because he has nowhere else to go and out of a still ingrained sense of need to watch out for his little brother. Him being blind will never change that, no matter how much everyone is convinced that he's no good to Sam anymore.
***
Over the next few days the tensions seem to ease up a bit. Bobby apologizes, seems to go out of his way to make up for the things he's said, and finally Dean finds himself forgiving his old friend if for no other reason than to get a break from the constant repenting.
Dean stays at Sam's side constantly, only leaving at mealtimes when he and Bobby venture down to the cafeteria for something that qualifies as food. But then it's right back upstairs to be with Sam.
It's the fact that he's always there that gets him talking to one of the nurses on Sam's rotation (by the sound of her voice she's young and pretty, and a quick consultation with Sam confirms that). Somewhere along the line he ends up telling the nurse the minimum details about his injury. She, in turn, passes the gossip along to a friend of hers, a nurse in ophthalmology, who just happens to mention it to one of the doctors on the ward, who takes an interest and seeks Dean out.
It's mid-afternoon on Sam's third day in the hospital and the brothers and Bobby are preparing for Sam's discharge later that evening. When the eye doctor appears at the door nobody even takes notice of him for several seconds until he finally clears his throat and re-knocks on the door, interrupting the flurry of packing and preparing.
They finally look up, expecting someone with Sam's discharge papers. Instead, they come face to face with an eager young man in a white lab coat.
"Dean Davisson?" he asks, clearing his throat again. His eyes fall immediately on Dean, easily finding the one guy in the room who isn't looking directly at him.
Sam is instantly on alert, and Dean senses his brother's tension. "Who wants to know?" Dean asks suspiciously.
"Dean, I'm Dr. Rick Hourman. I'm an ophthalmology surgeon. An eye surgeon," he amends. He crosses the room with confidence and stops directly in front of Dean, left hand on Dean's right shoulder as he holds his right hand out, tapping it lightly against Dean's clenched fist.
At first, Dean isn't quite sure what to make of the gesture. But eventually he pulls himself out of the stupor and cautiously takes the proffered hand. "I think there's some kind of a mistake here. We're here for my brother, Sam. I'm not the patient."
The doctor chuckles and releases Dean's hand, pulling up a stool and sitting across from him. He glances at Sam and Bobby, smiling politely, but addresses Dean's comment before making formal introductions. "There's no mistake here, Dean. Apparently one of my nurses got wind of your situation...with your eyes. She seemed to think I may be able to help, suggested that I give you a once over before you disappeared."
"I didn't ask for any help," Dean says solemnly. "My old doctors told me there's nothing they can do for me, so if you don't mind..." He leaves it at that, trailing off and expecting the man to take the hint and go on from there, leave.
Dr. Hourman's voice comes out gentle and soothing, but his words are very technical. "I don't know who your previous doctors were, Dean, but I have a feeling they were unaware of some of the surgical advancements available. I'm part of a team of only a few elite doctors across the country who have been working to develop a special corneal replacement surgery. It's very new, only in the beginning stages. We've only had five other human subjects, and of those, only the most recent two were a success.
Dean lets out a snort and raises both hands in an expression of disbelief, wishing he had the capability to catch Sam's eye and share this moment with his little brother. "Lemme get this straight. You've sought me out because you heard about me through the gossip grapevine; Managed to make it here literally minutes before I walked out of this hospital for good. All this so that you can offer me a surgery that only has a success rate of two subjects out of a grand total of five? And you actually want me to agree to this?"
"Well when you put it that way," the doctor says, still not losing the light-hearted tone he's brought to the room. He sighs and leans forward, fingers falling to Dean's knees. It's all the hunter can do to keep from pummeling the doctor for touching him, but he manages to keep his cool enough to simply move his legs out from under the man's touch.
"Look, Dean" Dr. Hourman says, unfazed by Dean's show of discomfort. "I'm offering you an opportunity here, and hopefully we can do something about your eyesight. Right now, all I'm asking is that you hear me out and agree to some preliminary tests, just to see if you're even a viable candidate. From there, it's up to you whether or not you actually decide to go ahead with the surgery, but honestly, you've really got nothing to lose. If things fail, you're in no worse shape than you are right now. And if it works, well, you've got your sight back."
Dean tenses up, fists clenching down at his sides. "I'm sorry, doctor, really I am. But I don't think I can be a part of your study. I'm not all that eager to be a guinea pig for your experiments, and quite frankly, my brother and I really can't handle anymore disappointment."
"Dean!" Sam's voice breaks through the air, hissing in frustration and angst. "What the hell are you doing?"
Turning toward the direction of his brother's voice Dean stubbornly crosses his arms and shakes his head. "Even if I wanted to do this, Sam, we don't have the money for it. We're gonna be paying out the wazoo just trying to cover your little unplanned side trip to the hospital."
He hears some shuffling and then the doctor's voice breaks in once more. "That's part of the beauty of this procedure, Dean. Because it's still in the experimental stages all participants receive their medical costs pro bono during the length of time you're participating in the study. There's no cost to you for any of the medical expenses that are incurred in relation to this surgery."
"Dean, I think you should look into this," Sam says, the anxiety sounding clearly in his tone. He's desperate, and it doesn't take much to realize he's just as desperate to see Dean's sight return to normal as he is to see their lives return to normal. With Dean incapacitated as he has been they've been dealing. But that's it; just dealing. They're not moving forward with anything, no challenges or goals. And it's pretty clear that they're not really in a position to be out hunting. The fact that they're in a hospital waiting for Sam's shoulder to heal pretty much seals that confirmation.
"Sam's right, Dean. You won't be out anything just to hear the doctor out," Bobby adds.
For a while, Dean just stays quiet. It's more out of principle than anything else, because, let's face it, Dean would do anything for Sam. So with Sam asking, he's pretty much guaranteed to say yes. But that doesn't mean he's won't make the kid sweat it out for a few, first.
* * *
It's not exactly anxiety that Dean's feeling as he sits in a plush leather chair in the doctor's office, but he sure as hell isn't calm either. His heart's racing a mile a minute, hands shaking and body sweating; all signs that can easily be misinterpreted as nerves. But he's not nervous, because being nervous would insinuate that he cares about the outcome. And he doesn't; he doesn't care at all whether this guy can give him his sight back or not. He's only here for Sam, because Sam asked him to give it a shot. And really? He's just here to prove to his little brother once and for all that there's no chance this could work. He's already resigned himself to living in darkness permanently, and there's nothing that's going to change his mind on the subject.
So why is it that he feels so goddamn tense?
Dean senses the beat of footsteps through the floor first, then hears the whoosh of a door sliding over carpet. Dr. Hourman spares no time between stepping into the office and announcing his presence, has obviously spent enough time with blind people to know how to act around them. With the promptness between greeting the three occupants in the room and reaching for Dean's hand he knows the doctor has once again bypassed greeting Sam and Bobby to shake hands with Dean first, and he instantly finds himself with a grudging appreciation for this guy. Since he was blinded barely anyone even acknowledges him at all, let alone first. Lately he's felt like a pariah in his own life, on the outside looking in – figuratively of course.
There is another rustle of footsteps, the sound of wheels rolling over plastic, and a creaking as Dr. Hourman sinks into his own chair across from his desk. "I'm so glad you decided to come hear me out," he says.
Dean nods, purses his lips, but otherwise remains stoic. He's not ready to give the guy anything, not ready to offer his agreement or his trust until he hears what the man has to say. For him, his mind is already made up. He can't go through a surgery that's bound to fail, can't put Sam through the rollercoaster of hope only to crash and burn on the other side. It's not worth the heartache that's guaranteed to come of it, and quite frankly, he's really not even sure why he's here in the first place. Other than the fact that Sam asked. Begged.
He hears a sigh come from his little brother, and then feels a hand come to rest on his knee, adding more pressure than he thinks is necessary until he realizes the hand serves a purpose. Well shit, hadn't even realized he'd been bouncing his leg like that. Must be cold in the room, cause it's not nerves. Definitely not nerves.
Taking a deep breath, Dean leans back into the seat and forces himself to relax and loosen up. He'd really like to just let his mind wander and hope the meeting goes by quickly so he can just say no and be done with it, but he's promised Sam he would actually hear the doctor out. So he cocks an ear to the side, toward the doctor, and waits out his spiel.
An hour later and Dean is more confused than ever. Not by what he's just been told, because he understands every word of that. Dr. Hourman is thorough and easy to understand, speaks in a language that is both civilian friendly and blind-friendly. What Dean can't see in pictures, Hourman makes up for in the flourish of his descriptions. And maybe that's the problem, because understanding exactly what the procedure entails and how it could work has Dean wondering if maybe it could work for him; if maybe there is a chance that he could have his sight back.
He doesn't want to believe, doesn't want to trust in a surgery to give him back everything he's lost. There are too many factors that can go wrong. And he doesn't want to build up his hope and his trust only to have it deflated on the other side of the surgery. When he looks at the numbers as two out of five the odds aren't in his favor.
But when he sees them as two successes out of the last two surgeries, that it was the first three that failed and by all rights they've managed to improve their technique since then. Well, then things begin to look a little more encouraging. And maybe he's got a shot…
Somewhere along the line as they sit there Dean hears himself say 'OK.' And then immediately feels the fear of failure clench at his chest and he wants to reach out and grab the word right out of the air and suppress it. Pretend he never said it.
But Sam is so quick to jump on the acceptance, so eager, like a little puppy that can't contain his excitement. And Dean can't bring himself to kill his little brother's hopes like that. But he's got to get him calmed down, at least.
"Sam, I said okay to the tests," Dean says sternly, hoping that the waver in his voice isn't as noticeable as it sounds to him. "But that doesn't mean the surgery is going to be an option. I have to fit the criteria, first. Don't go getting so excited until we know this is possible."
Sam instantly stills, composes himself. But still can't keep the conviction out of his voice. "Of course not, Dean. Tests first. But I think this will work; no, I know it will. It has to."
Dean purses his lips and fights with himself against saying more. They're both in a stubborn mindset and right now trying to fight Sam on his opinions will only waste precious time and energy, energy he needs to make it through the next several hours of testing they've got him lined up for.
God bless Bobby who chooses that moment to finally join the conversation. "It's close to noon now, boys. And I think Dr. Hourman has tests set up starting at 1:00. What say we head over to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat and a break from all this dadburn thinking."
When Hourman is the first to agree, Dean knows Bobby must have been looking to him for permission to cut out for the next hour. He's grateful to the mechanic for easing the tension in the room, and he quickly stands and nods his head in agreement, stomach growling just a little in confirmation.
Clutching his cane in his left hand Dean waits patiently for Sam to come around and offer his left arm, the right still held tightly in a sling. It's rather strange walking to the other side of Sam, using the cane in what feels like the wrong hand, and he's eager for his brother's shoulder to heal so that he can get back to normal routine. And then his thoughts wander back to the surgery, and the realization that if things go as planned he might just be done with the whole "relying on my brother" thing before Sam's shoulder is better. And shit if that just gets his hopes up even more.
They walk as a group through the halls of the hospital, sidestepping patients and family members, doctors and nurses, and Dean realizes his sensitivity to it is far stronger today that it has been in a while. He's hyperaware of the number of times Sam has to warn him of impending obstacles, the number of times he's pulled to the right or the left to avoid running into someone, the amount of murmured apologies from others as they apparently make an overt attempt to step out of the way. All of a sudden it's as though every challenge he's experienced since he woke with no sight is suddenly replaying in their trek to the hospital cafeteria, reminding him that he needs to keep an open mind to a possible cure.
It's more than once that Dean has to snap at Sam to stop talking about the tests and the surgery. He doesn't want to discuss it right now, doesn't want to even think about it. He just needs some time to process and reboot. Right now he needs to be thinking about mundane things, like how to take apart and put back together a gun and the best way to dispatch a spirit; things that don't take a lot of dwelling on to figure out the answer. He just needs to focus on stuff that he knows.
Lunch goes by way too fast for Dean's liking and before he knows it they're back in the office and Dr. Hourman and another of his colleagues are preparing to take Dean back for the requisite tests. Sam follows them back, acting as Dean's guide, while Bobby excuses himself for the rest of the afternoon and orders the boys to call when they're done.
For the next several hours Dean finds himself subjected to test after test, from something as simple as allowing a light to be shined into his eyes to the evermore painful scraping of scar tissue. That one hurt, no matter that Hourman used a numbing agent first, and now he's walking around with two gauze eye patches underneath his sunglasses. If he'd known from that start that that was part of the deal he's not so sure he would have agreed to the tests.
But what's done is done, no going back now, and at the end of the day he finds himself frustratingly eager to find out the results.
Bobby's back, and the trio find themselves once again sitting in the office chairs awaiting Dr. Hourman's arrival. He'd run off to finalize results of one last test, and assured them he'd be back soon.
Like before, Dean senses the doctor's arrival long before he's actually in the room and he stiffens considerably. Sam reads the body language and knows something's up, automatically reaches out and squeezes Dean's hand as the doctor enters the room and crosses to his desk.
"I've got good news for you," Hourman immediately says, wasting no time. He seems just as giddy as Sam, although manages to contain himself a little better, more professional.
Dean perks up, but tries to look stoic nonetheless. He's not excited about this. He's not!
"It looks as though you are a candidate for this procedure, Dean. I've arranged to get you started on some antibiotics and pre-op meds, and I've scheduled surgery for a week from Tuesday. That is, if you're in agreement."
Before Dean can actually say anything, Sam is already jumping in, like an eager puppy unable to sit still for his treat. "Oh, he is. He'll do it."
Really, Dean would love to yell at Sam and tell him he needs to calm down, breathe, and give a little thought to things. But over the day Dean's pretty much made up his mind that he'll go through with things. And so, although still trying to appear relaxed and indifferent, Dean just nods his head in agreement. He parrot's the doctors words from before. "What have I got to lose, right?"
Just a little side note - The eye is not my area of research expertise. I can't even begin to know what kind of surgeries are out there and what kind of situations make for a viable candidate. Please ignore any glaring impossibilities. THanks!