Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dean found his father, not in the garage, as Bobby had thought but sitting on the rickety old picnic table at the back of the house, among the overgrown grass and cracked cement of the worn-out patio that barely saw the old hunter anymore.
"Hey," the son greeted quietly.
John looked up and gestured to the rough wooden seat, "Want to sit?"
Dean nodded and took the offered seat, the picnic table creaking underneath the combined weight of the hunters.
"How's Sam?" John asked, not looking at Dean but at the small copse of trees at the edge of Bobby's property where he had often taken his sons when they were younger to practice shooting at bean cans and beer bottles.
"He's good," Dean answered, "He's doing great, considering everything he's been through."
John nodded.
"Sammy's as stubborn as they come," Dean continued, "He'll do just fine until they find him a kidney."
Again John nodded.
"What about you?" Dean ventured, "How are you holding up?"
The father shrugged, "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just worried about your brother. You know Sam, if something bad is going to happen, it'll be him it happens to."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, "But maybe it will be different. Maybe things will be okay for him now."
John looked up at his eldest, "I hope so."
Dean, not knowing what else to say, stood and stretched.
"You want a beer or anything?" he asked his father and John shook his head, "Nah, I'm good."
Dean shrugged and left his father to his thoughts.
It was odd seeing John so concerned about Sam's welfare when only a few days ago he was ready to leave him at Bobby's and continue hunting. The news of Sam's illness must have hit John hard. He was realizing that this was something they couldn't just put a Band-Aid on and it would go away.
Dean was grateful for the new change in his father. He hated being the one in the middle, trying not to be the one to pick sides and he was sure Sam appreciated the release of tension between himself and John as well.
Sam didn't need to be butting heads with his father right now anyway.
Dean made his way to the front of the house and headed back inside.
Bobby glanced up, "You find yer Daddy?"
"Yeah," Dean told him.
Bobby nodded and continued reading.
"I'm going to check up on Sam."
SPN
Sam raised his head when he heard footsteps approaching.
"Did I scare you? Sorry," Dean's voice apologized and Sam shook his head.
"What's up?" he asked and listened as his brother stepped into the room.
"Nothing really," Dean answered, "I was talking to Dad and-"
Sam felt his shoulders tense automatically and the mattress beside him dipped as Dean sat.
"Hey," his brother murmured, "Dad's okay now. You know that; whatever was going on with him earlier, it's out of his system."
Sam nodded.
"What I was going to say," Dean continued, "Was that I think you should talk to Dad."
Sam stared blindly at him, eyes wide.
"Just… hear me out," Dean said, "You've barely spoken to each other since… since you left for school. And Dad's different. We both know it. He's not going to be an asshole like before."
Sam fiddled with a page of his book, thinking.
"Sam," Dean's voice startled him a little, "C'mon, you were brave enough to go out on your own, to tell us you were leaving to go to Stanford and now you're afraid to talk to Dad?"
Sam gave a wry smile.
"Okay," he said and stood, setting the book down on the bed and picking up his cane.
He felt Dean's eyes on him as he walked out of the room and hoped that his brother was right and John had indeed changed and it wasn't just some cruel façade.
W
"Dad?" Sam called as his sneaker-clad feet touched the grass where the driveway ended and the lawn began, "Dad? Are you out here?"
Sam felt silly for being nervous, he knew where he was, he had walked around Bobby's house dozens of times since he'd gotten his cane but that didn't matter.
"Dad?" Sam called again. Maybe he wasn't out here anymore.
"Sam? What are you doing out here?" John's voice asked from somewhere ahead of him and the eighteen-year old relaxed somewhat.
"Dean said you were here and I… uh… I wanted to talk with you. Can we talk?"
John didn't respond for a moment and Sam wondered if his father was going to tell him to go back inside.
"Sure," he answered, "Uh… do you need help?"
Sam shook his head but he felt his father reached out to guide him in the right direction.
He sat down on the old, rickety picnic table and John took a seat beside him.
"You're doing really well," John said, "Getting around pretty good by yourself."
Sam nodded, "Yeah, this really helps."
He indicated the cane he still held.
"Sam… I want you to know… well…" John began but then hesitated.
"I'm sorry for acting like such a bastard earlier," he apologized, "I… I don't know what I was thinking."
Sam didn't say anything; he just listened.
"This… it's all new to me too and I was trying to go about things the wrong way," John continued.
Sam heard his father breathe a sigh, "If you need to stay here I don't mind and if you need Rayann Muir's help for three months, six months, or a year, I accept that."
Sam smiled slightly but still remained silent.
"And… if you want to come on the road with Dean and I than you can do that to," John said, "I just… I don't want you to be miserable. That's all."
"I know, Dad," Sam finally spoke, his tone soft.
"I'm not going anywhere," John assured him, "Not until we get you a clean bill of health and not without talking about what you want first."
Sam nodded, his eyes prickling with tears.
"Sam," John said and his voice sounded thick, as if there was a lump in his throat, "When we got that call that your things had been found and you were missing, well… I… I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…"
Sam gasped as his father grabbed him, squeezing him in a tight hug.
John had the emotional range of a soap dish most of the time so having him so choked up was a shock.
Of course Sam knew his father loved him, he just wasn't sure the man liked him. He wasn't sure his father wouldn't be willing to leave him in someone else's care while he continued his hunt for his wife's killer.
Sam patted his Dad's back, awkwardly at first but then in genuine comfort, "It's okay, Dad. I'm not going anywhere now. I'm here."
Sam closed his eyes as the hug continued. Finally, with one final firm squeeze, John released him, chuckling in an embarrassed sort of way. The older man cleared his throat.
"Can you forgive me, Sam, for being such an ass?" he asked and Sam nodded.
"Yes," Sam muttered, "I forgive you. And I understand why-"
"No," John interrupted in a tone he would use when Sam had been a toddler and had tried to put his pudgy fingers into electrical sockets, "No, I was way out of line, Sam. You didn't do anything. I was the idiot. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I'm the adult and should have known better."
Sam nodded, "Okay."
"The way I acted," John told him, "Was not your fault."
Sam didn't say anything for a long moment. There seemed nothing else to say.
"I don't know about you but I could use something cold to drink," John announced and Sam heard him stand up, "You want something?"
"Sure," Sam replied, "I'll come with you."
SPN
Dean smiled as he watched his father and brother walk around the side of the house together. He might not know a lot of things but he knew when the moment was right for his two family members to have a heart-to-heart.
He felt kind of bad for spying on them but he had to be sure John was sincere and hadn't just been playing both him and Sam for fools.
And he'd been right. The little hug-fest that had happened had proven that John had really seen the error of his ways and wanted to make it up to Sam.
The twenty-two year old heard the screen door slam as Sam and John came inside.
"Dean! You want a beer?" he heard John call from the bottom of the stairs and he stepped out of the bedroom, trying not to look too guilty.
"Sure," he said, "You having one too?"
Bobby, passing John on his way to the kitchen, scoffed, "Is the Pope a Catholic?"
Dean chuckled and headed down the stairs. Sam was seated at the kitchen table, a can of orange soda open in front of him.
"I think I'll have one of those instead," he said and grabbed an Orange Crush from the refrigerator and sat down beside Sam.
Bobby and John stuck with beer but joined the brothers at the table.
"Yer boys went out to a diner for lunch, Johnny," the grizzled hunter said and John raised an eyebrow curiously.
"Oh, how was that?" he asked.
Dean smiled and began telling his father and friend all about the morning Sam and he had enjoyed.
W
beep beep beep beep
What the hell was that?
beep beep beep beep
"Sam."
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"Turn off the alarm."
Dean blinked and raised himself up on his elbows, squinting at the alarm clock- it read six a.m. but was silent- and frowned.
What was making that sound?
"D'n?" Sam mumbled tiredly from the other bed, waking slowly.
Dean stared at the nightstand for a long moment before he saw it. The pager Dr. Greene had given him: it was going off!
"Sam!" Dean shouted and sat up quickly, grabbing the device and staring at his drowsy sibling.
"Wake up, Sam! C'mon, we've got to go!"
The eighteen-year old sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.
"What-" he began but Dean interrupted him.
"It's the pager! They have a kidney for you!"
Dean leaped off his bed and grabbed some clothes- the jeans he had been wearing the previous day and a grey t-shirt from his duffel- before hurrying over to Sam and pulling him up.
"Get dressed," Dean ordered, searching for his brother's clothes.
Sam remained where he was, seemingly frozen in place as Dean found him a pair of pants and a shirt to wear. Shoving the clothes at his brother, Dean turned and hurried out of the room, running downstairs and calling their father.
"DAD! Dad, get up now!"
John, who was sleeping on the couch, jumped as though the furniture was electrified and glanced around, ready for an attack.
"We've gotta go to the hospital," Dean said insistently.
"What's wrong?" John's immediately asked, a concerned expression on his face, "Is Sam alright?"
"They found a kidney for him," The twenty-two year old said before heading back upstairs again.
"Bobby! Hey, Bobby…"
SPN
Half an hour later the Winchesters and Bobby were sitting in the Impala, heading to the Sioux Falls General Hospital.
Sam sat the car's backseat with Dean, nervously fiddling with his folded cane.
"Sam," Dean said and the young man felt his brother's hand close over his own, "It'll be okay."
The eighteen-year old smiled, certain that his sibling was doing the same.
SPN
Dean couldn't believe it.
Dr. Greene had a kidney for Sam already? He'd said it would probably take months or even years because of Sam's rare blood type.
Dean recalled that shortly after they had found out about Sam's kidney failure he and John had gone for blood tests, to see if either of them would be a match.
Unfortunately neither Winchester was. A speed bump in Sam's recovery that only infuriated John. Mary had had the same rare blood type as Sam and if she hadn't died… well, suffice to say both Dean and John were disappointed.
Now though, Sam might be on the road to being healthy once again sooner than expected.
Although Dean knew that whomever this kidney had come from was probably deceased, the twenty-two year old couldn't help but be excited about the prospect of seeing his brother get better.
W
John parked in the area reserved for patients and led his small family towards the main doors of the hospital.
Dean walked beside Sam, resisting the urge to take his sibling's elbow and usher him along at a faster pace.
"C'mon, Sam, c'mon," Dean murmured as they stepped through the sliding doors and John approached the nurses' station.
"You can calm down, Dean," Bobby told him, "Sam's not likely to go into surgery today."
Dean frowned. He hadn't thought about that. He'd assumed that now that they had a kidney the doctors would want it transplanted as soon as possible.
"Oh," he muttered, "Are you sure?"
Bobby shrugged, "At any rate, Dr. Greene will want to talk to us before anything happens."
Dean looked up as John walked towards them.
"They're going to page Dr. Greene," his father said.
"How long is that going to take?" Dean asked, irritated.
It was the doctor himself who had set the pager off, why wasn't he here waiting for them?
"Don't know," John muttered, "Might as well sit while we wait."
"I'll stand," Dean commented, folding his arms across his chest.
"C'mere son," Bobby murmured to Sam and took his elbow, leading him towards the chairs.
W
The Winchesters did not have to wait very long for Sam's doctor to make an appearance.
He greeted the family warmly but put a halt to any questions by stating that he was sure they'd be more comfortable speaking in his office.
Dean rolled his eyes but followed, along behind his father. Sam was walking shoulder to shoulder with him and Bobby brought up the rear.
"Please," Dr. Greene said and held the door open as the Winchesters and Bobby were shepherded inside.
There were two seats in front of the doctor's large desk and Dean told his brother to take one. Bobby took the other because John preferred to stand- or loom- over them with Dean.
Dr. Greene sat down on his side of the desk and clasped his hands in front of himself, smiling.
"I am sure this is just as surprising for you as it is for me," he began, "I know I told you the wait for a new kidney would be a long one but someone has come forward and offered to help your son."
Dr. Greene was speaking directly to John but Dean raised an eyebrow curiously at the man's words.
From the corner of his eye he saw John frown and was sure that Bobby and Sam had similar looks of confusion on their faces as well.
"Wait," he interrupted, "Someone came forward? As in, a living person?"
Dr. Greene nodded, "Yes, its not very common that non-family members donate organs, such as kidneys, but it does happen. Some religious groups follow this practice."
"Who? Do we know this person?" John asked, trying to think of all the hunters he knew and wondered if any of them would actually be willing to give another person a kidney.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Greene apologized, "I cannot give you that information and even if I was allowed, he requested to remain anonymous. Call him a Good Samaritan."
Both elder Winchesters frowned. Dean though, wasn't perturbed by the doctor's reluctance to give them information on Sam's Good Samaritan; he had broken into many hospitals in order to get a hold of confidential materials and a late-night trip back to Sioux Falls General to look through the doctor's filing cabinet would be no problem. From the look on John's face, Dean knew his father was thinking the exact same thing. He smiled.
"What happens now?" Sam asked quietly.
"Ah," Dr. Greene said, "Right. Now, I think I'd like for you to have your dialysis today and I will schedule a surgery as soon as possible."
"He's not having surgery today?" Dean asked.
The doctor shook his head, "Sam is in no immediate danger right now and he must prepare for the surgery."
"Prepare how?" Bobby spoke up, his tone slightly suspicious.
"I will write Sam a prescription for an immunosuppressant and an antibiotic," Dr. Greene told them, pulling a prescription pad from his desk drawer, "That he will need to take prior to and after the surgery."
The doctor wrote the prescriptions, tore the paper off the pad and handed them to Bobby, who was closest.
"Sam will need to take the immunosuppressant indefinitely," Dr. Greene explained, "They will prevent his immune system from attacking the new kidney. Now, there are some risks you should know before going through this…"
SPN
Sam's head was spinning with information. He felt as though if Dr. Greene said one more thing his brain was going to start leaking out through his ears.
Thankfully, the physician released the family after an hour and a half and had Sam's dialysis appointment bumped up so that he could go right to it.
"Sammy? You okay?" Dean's voice asked and Sam felt his brother's hand on his shoulder as they headed down the hall towards the room with the dialysis machines.
"It's just a lot to take in," he replied.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Dean said quietly, "It'll be okay."
Sam nodded. It was only he and Dean; Bobby and John had decided to go back home- probably to discuss the impending surgery further- and would pick them up when Sam's appointment was over.
A nurse's voice greeted the brothers as they stepped into the room and made their way over to one of the machines.
"Should have brought that book with us," Dean commented as the nurse inserted the IV lines into Sam's arm.
The younger man gave a slight smile, "You can watch TV, Dean."
"Nah," his brother replied, "I'm alright for now."
Sam jumped a little when he felt Dean's hand close over the back of his own and squeeze.
The brothers fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts.
Author's Note:
Thanks to Ghostwriter, mara-isamoose, SamDeanLover28, L.A.H.H, BranchSuper, and SPN Mum for reviewing.
Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
I am sure that a lot more goes into donating and receiving a kidney but this is a work of fiction and we all want to see Sam happy and healthy again so I am doing away with some of the more technical aspects of the process.
Please take a moment and leave a review, Dear Readers.