Chapter Twenty
Dean paced the waiting room anxiously under Bobby and John's equally worried gazes.
"Son, why don't you sit down?" the veteran hunter suggested, "Walking in circles ain't gonna make time go any faster."
Dean shook his head before raking one hand through his short-cropped hair.
"I can't," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"Dean," John spoke up but his son ignored him.
"I should have taken him in as soon as I knew something was wrong," Dean mutterd to himself, "I knew something wasn't right."
"Dean," John tried again, "It's not your fault."
The hunters had been in the waiting room for over an hour, Sam having been whisked away on a stretcher almost as soon as they'd stepped through the door. Luckily, the youngest Winchester had been unconscious at the time Dean and Bobby had handed him over to a doctor but there was sure to be trouble once Sam awoke.
If he did wake up at all, Dean thought sadly. Although Sam's fever had been high, it was the other symptoms that scared his brother.
As an orderly rolled the gurney carrying Sam, through a set of double doors that led deeper into the hospital, the doctor had taken a moment to ask what had brought the Winchesters and Bobby to Sioux Falls General.
Dean told the doctor that Sam had developed a fever after they'd been outside in the rain the day before. He'd also informed him of Sam's complaints of a sore back, his rapid heartbeat and confusion.
Before the doctor left, he asked if there was anything he should know about Sam before he began running tests.
"Uh… yeah…" Dean began, unsure of exactly how to explain Sam's scars.
"You heard of what happened in Marshalltown, Iowa?" Bobby spoke up while Dean hedged.
The doctor nodded, "Why hasn't heard? It was all over the news. All those poor kids… wait? You mean…"
Bobby nodded, "Sam was there."
The doctor looked shocked but quickly regained his composure.
At least they weren't lying. Sam had been at Dunhill Psychiatric Hospital. They just failed to mention that he wasn't one of the victims who'd been released into protective custody after the raid on the facility.
Once the doctor had left, retreating through the same set of doors the orderly had taken Sam through, Dean rounded on the veteran hunter.
"What the hell did you tell him for?!"
"Dean, calm down," John warned, his son's raised voice drawing looks from other people in the lobby.
"Sometimes the truth is better than a lie, son," Bobby commented.
Dean opened his mouth to argue; irritated that Bobby did have a point.
Sighing, he followed his father and friend over to the waiting room for what was likely to be a long and stressful wait.
Dean had only managed to sit still for about ten minutes before he'd stood up and began his pacing.
Every time he saw a doctor approach the waiting room, he looked up hopefully, only to be disappointed.
"I was the one who said Sam didn't need a doctor," John continued now, looking sadly at his eldest son.
Dean didn't reply. Normally, if John told him to do something he would without question but when it came to Sammy. No, he should have done something as soon as he'd felt his brother's heartbeat was off, far too fast and irregular to be healthy.
"Why is it always Sam?" Dean asked, looking at his father as though he expected John to give him an answer.
The older man shrugged helplessly, he had no idea why bad luck always seemed to land on his youngest son.
Bobby stood and stretched, lifting his baseball cap off his head to ruffle his thinning reddish hair.
"I'm gonna go to the cafeteria and get some coffee," he announced, "You wanna come along?"
Dean nodded. He might as well. All this pacing was getting him nowhere.
"John, you want anything?" Bobby asked but the other man shook his head, "I'm alright for now."
Nodding, the two men started down the hallway in search of the cafeteria, leaving John to wait for news on his youngest.
SPN
Voices came back to Sam first. They were indistinct, muffled, but he could tell they were close by.
Who was talking?
Dean? Bobby? Dad?
A feminine voice spoke up, sounding as though it was asking a question. Was Rayann Muir here too?
A deeper voice, a man's voice, replied and Sam's heart seemed to freeze in his chest.
No. No, no, no, no, please. It couldn't be. Where was Dad? Where were Dean and Bobby?
Sam opened his eyes to a blanket of white but he could sense people surrounding him, trapping him.
Struggling to sit up, Sam gasped as pain seared through his lower back, nausea bubbling up in his stomach.
A firm hand touched his chest and began pressing down, coaxing him to lie down again.
"Hold on, son," the man- Bates, it was Bates- said, "It's alright. You're okay. Lay back down."
"No," Sam whimpered as he was forced onto his back again, "Please… No more…"
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and leaked down the sides of his face.
"Doctor," the female voice said, "Maybe we should give him something."
Sam cringed away when the doctor leaned forward, patting his chest in a comforting manner, "I just need to take some blood. It won't hurt."
No, this couldn't be happening. Why was Bates still here? Why wasn't he with Dean?
Sam's stomach curdled and he knew he was going to be sick. Rolling onto his side- the hand holding him slipping away- Sam threw up.
The young man fought when he felt hands grab at him and his fist connected with someone's chin.
"Let me go! Please! I can't do this anymore! Leave me alone!" Sam shouted as loudly as he could, writing as more hands held him down and he felt the pinch of a needle in the crook of his elbow.
"Pl-please… don't… D-Dean…" Sam muttered faintly as the sedative began to take effect and he slipped back into unconsciousness.
SPN
Dean's head snapped up when he heard footsteps approached and he couldn't but help feel relieved when he saw the doctor who had met with them, walking towards the waiting room. Dean hurried forwards to meet the man halfway, brimming with questions about his brother.
"Is Sam okay? What's wrong? Can you fix it? Does he need medicine? Did he wake up?"
Doctor Greene held up a hand, "One question at a time."
John and Bobby joined them and the doctor began.
"I'm afraid I don't have good news for you," Dr. Greene began, rubbing absently at his sore chin, "The blood test came back positive. Sam's kidney is failing."
Dean's mouth dropped open in shock.
"Can't you… I don't know… give him pills or something?"
The doctor shook his head, "Your brother is going to need a new kidney."
"Well," Dean replied immediately, "I have two, give him one of mine. We're brothers, it should work."
Dr. Greene smiled at the young man but the gesture was not warm, "It is more complicated than simply giving Sam a new kidney. We have to find someone with a matching blood type. Your brother has a very rare blood type and it will not be easy to find him a new kidney."
"But…" Dean began and felt his father's hand on his shoulder and John spoke up, "What can we do right now, doctor?"
"I want Sam to start dialysis as soon as possible," Dr. Greene told them.
Dean frowned. Dialysis? He'd never heard of that before.
"What is that?" he asked, wondering if it was painful.
"It is a procedure that will do the work of Sam's kidney- clean his blood- while we wait for a donor," the doctor explained as though speaking to a child but Dean didn't notice.
"Does it hurt?" Dean wanted to know and Dr. Greene shook his head, "But it does take some time. I could tell you more about it right now but I'm sure you'd like to see Sam."
Dean's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.
"Sam's awake?"
Dr. Greene shook his head, "He did wake though, before I gave him the blood test but we had to give him a sedative to calm him down."
"He was scared?" Dean glared at the man, "And you didn't get us?"
"Dean," Bobby spoke up, but the young man interrupted him, "No, Bobby. Sam woke up with some strange doctor poking at him. He must have been terrified. Why didn't you come get us?"
"There wasn't time," Dr. Greene explained, "It was easier to give your brother a sedative."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest, not sure he liked the doctor so much now.
"Can we go see Sam?" John prompted, trying to change the subject.
"Yes," Dr. Greene said, "This way."
As the three men followed the doctor, John glared at his eldest son.
"Dean, get a hold of yourself," the father hissed but the younger man ignored him.
"He knew Sam was in Dunhill," he replied, "He must have seen Sam was scared and just stuck him with another needle."
John sighed, "He can't come running to get us when he has a job to do, Dean."
The young man didn't say anything the rest of the trip up to the fourth floor.
W
Dean frowned at the sight of his brother lying unmoving in his hospital bed, blankets pulled up to his chest. Sam's face was pale and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. An IV pole stood beside the bed, the tube leading to Sam's right hand.
"I've put Sam on fluids and medicine to bring the fever down," Dr. Greene explained as he remained in the doorway, allowing Bobby and the two eldest Winchesters into the room.
"I'll come back in a while to check in," the doctor told them, "If there are any problems, please let the nurse on duty know."
Dean approached the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching out to run his hand over Sam's short hair.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean whispered, leaning in close to his sibling as John and Bobby sat down in the two chairs provided for visitors.
"I'm here," he continued, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
SPN
Someone was sitting beside Sam. He could feel the right side of the bed dip down with the weight.
Sam's heartbeat picked up speed. Was it Bates? Was it one of the nurses?
Sam flinched when the person touched his head, smoothing his hair.
"Sammy?" a familiar voice spoke his name and Sam opened his eyes.
"D-Dean," he whispered, fearful that he was wrong.
"It's me, man," Dean assured him and Sam went limp with relief.
"W-What happened?" Sam asked, his mouth and throat dry.
"How are you feeling?" Dean asked his own question.
"Tired," Sam answered and tried to sit up, only to have his lower back throb painfully.
"Easy," Sam felt his brother's hands on his arms, gently holding him down, "What do you remember?"
Sam sank back against the mattress and narrowed his eyes in concentration, "I remember it was raining and then… you… and… and Bates… and then you and Bobby… a-and B-Bates…"
"Okay," Dean soothed, "It's alright now. You've been really sick. You had a bad fever. Bates was never there. He's gone. Forever."
Sam nodded, "Where are we?"
"Hospital," Dean replied cautiously, "You were delirious, Sam. We had to take you in."
"Are Bobby and Dad here?" Sam asked. If they were, he hadn't heard them.
"Getting something to eat, but yeah, they're both here," Dean told him.
"Sam," Dean began and the tone of his voice told the younger man that he was going to say something he would not like.
Sam bit his lip and waited.
"You're… ah… Dr. Greene- your doctor- he said that you… well…"
"Dean," Sam said quietly, "Just tell me."
"Your kidney's failing!" Dean blurted out, "You need a new one."
Sam blinked, staring at the white fog over his eyes for a moment before he began laughing.
"Sam?" Dean asked, his tone worried, "Sammy?"
The eighteen-year old wrapped his arms around his middle as he tried to stop. It wasn't funny. Not in the least but he just couldn't help but laugh at how horribly ironic it was.
"Sam, don't go schizoid on me now," Dean begged and the younger man shook his head, tears squeezing out from underneath his closed eyelids.
Sam struggled to sit up, despite the pain in his back, and Dean helped him, keeping one hand at the nape of his younger brother's neck.
After a moment or two, Sam's laughter began to die down and then he was gasping, crying and grabbing onto his brother's shirt.
"Shhh," Dean soothed, rubbing Sam's back, "It'll be okay, you'll see. We'll get you a new kidney in no time."
Sam shook his head and wiped at his runny nose with one hand.
"I-It won't come," Sam said, "M-My blood…"
"Hey!" Dean snapped, "Dr. Greene said you had a rare blood type. He didn't say you were the only person with that blood type."
Sam wasn't really listening though. All he could hear was Bates' voice, every time the doctor had commented on his blood, telling him how special he was.
Sam shuddered, suddenly cold.
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, hugging him tightly. He didn't say anything else and for that, Sam was grateful. He just wanted to pretend for a little while that his life wasn't so messed up and that everything was okay.
SPN
"Sam woke up? Did you tell him what Dr. Greene said?" Bobby asked when he and John returned, coffee cups in hand.
Dean nodded, "Yeah, I told him."
"How'd he take it?" Bobby asked. John gave Dean the cup of coffee they'd bought for him and the young man took it eagerly, muttering his thanks.
"He's really upset… scared," Dean told them.
Bobby glanced at the youngest Winchester, fast asleep again, his face blotchy, a telltale sign that he'd been crying.
"Sam's strong," he said, "He'll pull through this."
"We should let Dr. Greene know Sam woke up," John spoke up, "He'll probably want to get dialysis started as soon as possible."
Dean nodded and turned his gaze to his brother. Bobby sighed, the young Winchester looked so peaceful and he was sure that the next few hours- if not days- were going to be trying for all of them.
SPN
"This is Dr. Patel," Dr. Greene introduced Bobby and the Winchesters to the petite Indian woman, "She will be performing the surgery to make the fistula."
Dean nodded and squeezed his brother's hand. Dr. Greene had already told them exactly what needed to be done for the dialysis but the older sibling was still nervous. Sam seemed to be in a state of shock. He had listened to Dr. Greene, without saying a word, barely blinking, only to grab for Dean's arm once the physician had left, trembling.
Dr. Greene was wasting no time in preparing Sam for dialysis. Time was not on their side, he had explained. With only one kidney, Sam would require treatment very soon. The doctor had informed the hunters that he had decided that a fistula should be used instead of the usual dialysis catheter because it might be months before Sam received a new kidney.
"Catheters," Dr. Greene explained, "Are usually used in the short-term."
Fistulas, however, lasted longer. But they also required surgery. An AV (or arteriovenous) fistula was created when an artery and a vein were joined together. This would allow blood to flow more freely and resulted in a lower infection rate than if a catheter was to be used.
The female doctor approached Sam, her dark eyes warm. Dean tightened his grip on his brother's hand.
"Hello Sam," Dr. Patel greeted in her accented voice; she reached out and picked up his free hand, shaking it, "It's nice to meet you."
The youngest Winchester dropped his hand as soon as the woman released it, saying nothing.
Dr. Greene cleared his throat, "I'd like to get Sam prepped for the surgery, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Dean didn't move for a moment. He leaned in close to his brother instead, "I'll be right there when you wake up, okay? I promise."
Sam inclined his head towards Dean's, his expression uncertain.
"Don't leave me alone," he whispered fearfully.
Dean's eyes pinched in sympathy and he reached up and squeezed the back of his brother's neck, "It'll be fine, Sammy. I have to go though. I will there as soon as you're out of surgery."
"O-Okay," Sam muttered and sniffed sadly.
Dean smiled reassuringly at his sibling even though he knew Sam couldn't see him.
Slipping off the bed, he followed his Dad and Bobby out the door, glancing over his shoulder before the turning and heading down the hallway.
God, Dean thought, please let this help Sammy.
Author's Note:
Thanks to NeverTrustAPirate1, mandancie, CommChatter, mara-isamoose, MysteryMadchen, L.A.H.H, Elishab68, Jkf340, sarah, scootersmom, BranchSuper, NAVILLUS, SamDeanLover28, SPN Mum, Rachel, , and Ghostwriter for reviewing.
Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
Now, I am not a doctor and my medical knowledge is limited. Anything I wasn't sure about I looked up on the Internet or asked my sister, BerserkerHellHound, who is going to school to be a nurse. Thanks a bunch, Sis! Any glaring mistakes are mine.
Please leave a review and I'll see about getting Sammy out of surgery quickly.