Day 4
A/N: Short chapter. So we can get to the good stuff. :D
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Dean resisted crossing his eyes as a fourth nurse told him about yet another thing he had to do in order to prevent this or that complication. This had been going on for… he surreptitiously glanced at his watch… over two hours now. Not that he didn't want to do everything right for Sam, but, they had taken care of themselves pretty well over the years without professional help. He suppressed a sigh and focused on what the nurse was saying. "…And if anything changes, or you are unsure about anything, just bring him back in," he heard for the twentieth time.
"I will," he answered absently. He waited for the nurse to continue. Instead Bobby had to break the awkward silence that ensued by clearing his throat. "We can take him home now?" Dean asked hopefully.
"Yes. We'll get him loaded up into a wheelchair and he'll be discharged. Do you think you two can move him?"
"Just 'cause my leg is busted doesn't mean my arms don't work."
Bobby rolled his eyes. "Alright, tough guy. Let's get you two knuckleheads loaded up."
The nurses gently shifted Sam to a wheelchair and brought him out to a car Bobby had
somehow procured. Dean slid himself into the back and put his leg through the two front seats.
"Really, Dean?" Bobby complained.
"What? Where else am I gonna put it? On Sam's lap?"
"Fine…" Bobby grit his teeth but became solemn as the nurses and Dean struggled to get Sam's tall frame into the backseat. After moving the front passenger seat as far forward as it would go, they were able to arrange Sam safely in the back. Dean removed the headrest so his head could loll back over the seat instead of hang down on his chest. He almost looked dead and it sent shivers through Dean's soul. He couldn't bear handling Sam's dead body one more time. He swallowed against the anguish crawling up his throat and turned to Bobby. "Ready?" Bobby asked.
"Hell yes! Let's blow this joint!"
The drive to the cabin wasn't actually that long, but to Dean it felt like forever as he watched his brother's head bounce up and down with every pothole or bump in the road. Several times he had to reach over and catch Sam's head. Last thing they needed was some kind of injury to his vertebrae. Dean sighed. Last thing they needed was everything that had happened to them in their entire lives.
Dean stretched out in the armchair the best he could. It had taken quite a bit of effort to move Sam into the house by themselves. The borrowed wheelchair definitely helped, but, stairs, a broken leg, a bad back, and almost 200 pounds of bone, muscle, and hair do not mix well. They'd managed to get Sam to the couch. Bobby was connecting the necessary medical apparatuses, though he sometimes had issues reading Dean's handwritten notes from the nurse. "Would it have killed you to write a little clearer?"
"Bite me," Dean returned, tired. The pain medication wore him down more than he'd like to admit. "Didn't see you taken notes, too."
Bobby grumbled but didn't respond. He could see the dark circles under Dean's eyes. He decided to be gracious in light of Dean's snark. "I almost got Sam set up here. How are you doin'?"
Dean sighed. "I'm alright. Leg doesn't hurt too much as long as I keep popping the pills. They make me so groggy though…"
"That's alright. You need the sleep too. I'll watch Sam while you get some rest," he offered. Dean hesitated, his eyes lingering on Sam. "I got 'im, Dean." Dean nodded and made his way over to the cot. He laid his crutches down with a sigh and was asleep minutes later.
Bobby woke Dean up after a few hours, informing him he was going to return the wheelchair to the hospital and run some other errands. He informed Dean nothing was different with Sam, and that he should go back to bed. Dean readily complied.
Dean roused himself an hour later to check on Sam's vital signs, despite knowing full well the alarm would sound if anything changed significantly. Part of him kept waiting for Sam's eyes to pop open, returning his brother to him complete and sane. But he knew that would not happen. He may have been able to pull Sam back from the ledge, but they were still on the cliff. They had a long walk back. Dean pushed back the wave of agony threatening to submerge him. He set his alarm to go off in another hour, determined to take care of his little brother.
And so his watch continued, an ever-anxious Dean protecting the long-suffering Sam.
