Sorry for leaving you all hanging there, but this chapter is half warm fuzzies so I hope you will take it as my sincerest apology. :)
Guest: thank you so much! :D I'm so happy that you think Amelia fits in with everyone else.
Amelia felt the delicious fuzziness in her mind long before she had a conscious thought, and embraced it. She felt well-rested for the first time in forever,and there was no way she was cutting that short for anything. But no matter how much she tried to lose herself in the drugs pumping through her system, her mind eventually surfaced from the haze.
"Jo," she croaked, as the first memory that came back was Jo laying bloody on the dirty floor. "Jo!"
She was gaining ground now, she could feel over half of her body. "Jo!" she tried to yell, "Bobby? Ellen! Jo!"
Amelia finally managed to open her eyes. White lights seared into her mind, and sharp pain pierced through the painkillers and sedatives.
"Amy," a tired voice reached her.
She moved her head towards the voice, and made out a large blurry shape lurking a few feet away. "Sam," she croaked, recognizing the mane of hair. "Jo? Bobby?! De-"
"They're all fine," Sam cut her off, coming to stand by the side of her bed.
She noticed the white bandages circling his arm, and bruises splotched around on his visible skin.
"You alright?" he asked her. "You gave us quite a scare. Couldn't find a pulse between the two of you."
Amelia let her eyes drift shut again. "I'm ok. How's Jo?"
"She lost a lot of blood, but she's fine now. Hasn't woken up yet. Ellen and Dean are with her now. Bobby's cleaning up things."
The pillow cradled her throbbing head.
"How're you an'Dean?"
He smiled, and gave a little shrug. "Vampire's took some blood, but we're in decent shape. They were planning on bleeding us for a while. Thanks for coming in guns blazing and getting us out of there."
Amelia accepted his thanks with a weary smile and a thumbs up which entirely drained her of energy.
"Think I'm gonna take a nap," she slurred.
He brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. "Night, Amy. Someone will be here when you wake up."
"Mmm," she mumbled as the peaceful, warm nothingness washed over her, and she drifted off again.
Some time later, people in white coats flashed lights into her eyes, and mumbled things she couldn't understand. They made her drink some water, and she drank it so she could go back to sleep.
The next time, her mind woke up before her body. Amelia heard snoring, and recalled Bobby, face down into a book during a long night's research, sawing logs.
Smiling, at least in her mind, for her face wouldn't respond, she managed to crack an eye open. The lights were off in her room, but she could still make out a blurry blob where Bobby sat in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, head tilted back, jaw open, snoring away. Amelia let her mostly unresponsive eye drift shut again.
They were keeping a close eye on her. She had to come up with some good explanation as to how she was able to explode one vampire's head and another's neck. And she meant to, but it was so hard to stay awake with her eyes closed, and the drugs were so comforting, and her head still hurt a little bit... She drifted off, her snores joining Bobby's.
The nightmare came out of nowhere. One second, Amelia slumbered in peaceful darkness, the next, her father slapped her across her mouth, his face contorted in rage. Pain blossomed across her face, and blood ran in her mouth where her lips had been smashed against her teeth. He backhanded her face again, and she could already feel the bruise forming across her cheekbone. The smell of whiskey dripped from his bloody hands, and Amelia let her jaw slack open in a silent scream as he moved closer, battering her face and body.
Her loud and very vocal scream woke her from the nightmare. She jerked back, from the phantom of her father that she still saw in the air, the drugs painting the image for her all too clear. Tossing up her arms to protect her face, Amelia lunged to the side, and toppled over the bedrail to crash to the ground. She screamed again, still clutching at her head.
"Amelia!" a voice shouted. "Amelia, let me see your eyes!"
A strong hand forced her arm away from her head, and a bright light split her brain open. Reflexively, she dodged back, closing her eyes. The tile floor was hard and cold, but she didn't notice as she sobbed. Then she smelled blood, and opening her eyes she saw Dean, crouching on the floor in front of her. Even though she knew it was Dean, the image of the demon offering her blooded hand to Amelia was overlaid on the top. She couldn't concentrate on anything else.
"Take and drink," it smiled, eyes flashing black, its hand extended, so close to her mouth.
Jerking wildly back, she screamed again, clutching her hands over her ears. Her whole body shook, and she passed out of thought into a consuming numbness.
The next time she knew anything, a soft, quiet voice murmured periodically, and she felt warmth around her. A gentle hand rubbed small circles on her shoulder. Her body still shook, as she slowly came out of her mental paralysis and found Sam sitting on the floor, cradling her gently in his long arms. For a minute, Amelia didn't have the energy to move. She just let her head rest on Sam's warm chest, listening to his heart beat, and his incessant, comforting touch on her shoulder. Slowly, the quivering abated, leaving behind pure exhaustion and a gut-deep ache in every single muscle. It had been a long time since she a panic attack had hit her in the middle of the day.
Finally, Amelia lifted her head, swallowing, and tried to unclench the tight, bloodless fists that were her hands.
"Hey," Sam said softly, shifting so he could see her face. "Are you ok?"
She stared down at her uncooperative, stiff fingers, and shrugged. "Dream. And drugs... mess stuff up." Another quiver ran through her body.
Sam took one of her hands in his, and rubbed it, working life back into it.
"I'm sorry about... earlier. Dean thought you might have swallowed vampire blood, and was a little enthusiastic about checking."
"I don't think I swallowed any," she told Sam, experimentally opening and closing her hand. He moved to her other hand, opening the fingers slowly, gently.
"You didn't attack Dean when he offered you blood, which was an idiotic move on his part. But even he doesn't think you're a vampire now."
He gave her hand a tiny squeeze.
"Do you want to try to get some more sleep?"
Quickly, she shook her head. "No." Luckily she hadn't started a fire, whether from overuse of fire earlier, or numbness due to the drugs, but no way would she press any luck she had.
"Can I see Jo?"
"Yea, of course," he finished working blood back into her fingers, and helped her stand.
Her legs quivered under the weight of her body, and the world spun and wobbled around her. If not for Sam's arm, she probably would have fallen.
"You sure you're alright to walk?" he had to ask.
Amelia smiled, thin-lipped, and walked for the door, Sam hovering beside her, still holding her hand and steadying her shaky steps. They made their way like that down the hallway, slowly, and Amelia surprised herself when she realized she was holding a guy's hand and didn't actually mind it. For her, it was a new feeling.
That all went out the metaphorical window when they stepped into Jo's room.
She lay on the bed, very still, her neck thick with bandages, and her skin very pale except for the dark circles underneath her eyes.
"Jo," Amelia whispered, and lurched forward to stand beside the bed, staring down at her friend. "Oh, God, Jo."
Two IV's ran to her arms, but she was still a ghost of her usual fiery self. Slowly, Amelia reached out and touched her hand, laid out on top of the blankets so the IV could run unimpeded.
"God, she's like ice," she muttered, and took Jo's hand in both of hers, trying to warm it up.
"Amelia."
Turning her head, she saw a bleary-looking Ellen raising her head from where it had leaned on her hand, sleep still in her eyes.
Amelia looked back to Jo, and cradled her cold hand, swallowing. She heard Ellen stand and take the two steps to stand behind her.
"Amelia," Ellen said again, and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her whole body to go tense. "You saved my girl, Amelia. You saved my Jo. I can't ever thank you for that. Anything you need, ever-" her voice choked up, and she wrapped her arms around Amelia, who clenched every muscle in her body, but managed to endure the hug without bolting for the door.
Ellen finally let go, with a tiny pat on her shoulder and a smile.
"How is she?" Amelia asked, gesturing at Jo.
"She lost a lot of blood," Ellen said, laying her hand on Jo's head, "much more and we would have lost her. You kept her alive, even when you were out cold." The sheer gratitude in Ellen's eyes made Amelia uncomfortable. She didn't really do emotions.
"She woke up once, and didn't seem to be in much pain. They're keeping her sedated until her neck can heal so a wrong move doesn't rip it open again." She touched the bandage lightly, making sure it was in place.
"I'm just glad she's going to be ok," Amelia mumbled, carefully placing Jo's hand back down on the blankets.
"How are you doing, sweetie?" Ellen turned to her. "What happened, anyways? There was so much blood, and we were scared you were both dead."
Amelia's heart lurched painfully into her throat. "I-" she started, trying to remember the lie she had thought up through the pounding in her chest, but she was choking on her air and she couldn't think straight. All she could remember were the vampire's teeth sinking into her neck, and the way its head exploded all over her. "I-" she tried again, but what were the little pin pricks of light dancing around her? The pain in her head increased exponentially. Her legs started to buckle underneath her, and she grabbed the bed rail as the panic attack slammed into her full force.
"Amelia!" she felt Ellen's hand on her shoulder as she started to hyperventilate.
"She's having a panic attack," she heard Sam's voice echo to her from a great distance.
Amelia tried to even out her breathing, but her body started shaking again, and she couldn't get enough air. She was choking, and she couldn't seem to remember how to breathe. Then Sam's warm arms were around her again, keeping her from collapsing, and she could hear his heart beating steadily.
"Just breathe, Amy," he told her, "just breathe. You're all right, shhh... You're safe. Breathe."
She clung to consciousness by a hair breath, tensing up every muscle in her body to keep from fainting as she fought her way through the blind panic. Her hands clutched at his shirt, as she instinctively looked for something, anything to hold on to as waves of pure terror crashed against her, again and again. After a few horribly long minutes, she finally managed to even out her breathing, though her heart still tap danced in her chest. Her whole body felt so weak, as she drooped against Sam, that she knew she would collapse if he removed his support.
"You're going back to bed, kiddo," he told her. "No ifs, ands, or buts."
"I'm so sorry, Amelia," Ellen patted her hand. "I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
Sam scooped her up off the ground, and without a fuss, she let him carry her back to her room. She hated feeling weak, and hated any show of emotion or vulnerability, let alone two public panic attacks in one day. But she was too tired to argue with him, and all she wanted was a warm blanket to hide under, in a dark room where she could be alone. Sleeping was a forgone conclusion, and as her head bobbed along, she seriously doubted if she could light a spark in her present condition.
"Hey Sammy," she heard Dean's cheerful voice. "She alright?"
"Yea, she was visiting Jo and got tired," he lied for her. "I'm taking her back."
"Sorry about earlier, Amelia, didn't mean to freak you out like that."
She grunted in reply, and Dean apparently took that as forgiveness, because she heard him walk away, whistling tunelessly.
"Thanks," she mumbled up at Sam as he continued walking.
"No problem," he told her, "Dean can be an ass sometimes."
Soon, she felt the soft pillow cradling her aching head, and a nice blanket being draped over her.
"Do you want someone to stay with you, or would you rather be alone?" Sam asked.
"Alone," she grunted, as sleep already started to take her.
The door shut softly behind him.
I have to say that I wouldn't mind having a panic attack too terribly much if Sam Winchester was there. :) And I hope this chapter helps you all get over your anger at me for leaving you in suspense last time!