Dean was forced to sit in the waiting room while his brother was in surgery. He was terrified that any minute a doctor would come out and tell him his brother was dead because, really, who survived getting struck by lightning?
"C'mon Sammy," Dean muttered under his breath as he paced the waiting room, dripping mud and water onto the tile floor, "C'mon Sammy, you can make it, I know you can, c'mon man. Don't leave me like this, please; I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
W
The seconds ticked by into minutes, the minutes into hours and still there was no word on his brother's condition. Dean paced the waiting room like a caged animal, looking up hopefully every time a nurse appeared, only to be disappointed when they called another name. He soon lost track of how many cups of crappy coffee he had drunk throughout the night.
Finally, exhausted from the lack of sleep and the increase of stress, the hunter collapsed into one of the stained waiting room chairs and shut his eyes, falling into a fitful slumber.
W
"-Sam Winchester?" a female voice broke through Dean's unconscious mind, "Family of Sam Winchester?"
Peeling his eyelids up, Dean sat up straight- his back protesting the sudden movement- and wiped a hand over his face.
"Here," he muttered, "I'm here."
A nurse with short, curly hair turned to him and gave a small smile.
"I'm his brother, Dean," Dean stood up and hurried towards the nurse, "Is Sam okay?"
"He's out of surgery," she told him, "But the doctor had to put him into a medically-induced coma as a result of his injuries."
Dean felt the blood drain from his face at the nurse's words.
"What?" he asked, "What do you mean?"
The nurse reached out and with a gentle hand, guided him down a hallway, away from the curious stares and eager ears in the waiting room.
"The lightning entered your brother's body through his left shoulder and exited through his right foot," the nurse told him, speaking quietly, "Dr. O'Brien had to amputate your brother's foot because it was too badly damaged. The injuries to his shoulder are severe and the arm may also need to be amputated as well."
Dean stopped, "You chopped off my brother's foot?"
The nurse nodded, looking both apologetic and sympathetic.
"The burns were too severe," she explained, as though to a child, "There was nothing the doctor could do to save the foot."
"But… Sammy's okay?" Dean stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around what was happening to his brother, "He'll be okay? I mean, not many people survived getting struck by lightning so he's already lucky, right?"
The nurse sighed, "I wouldn't call it lucky."
Dean blinked owlishly at her for a moment so she continued.
"Very few people survive lightning strikes, and those who do are often left with lifelong, debilitating disabilities as a result."
"No," Dean argued, "Not Sam. Not my brother. He's gonna be okay. He has to be. You… you're wrong."
"It's already a miracle he survived at all," the nurse told him, "He was in cardiac arrest, he went a long time without oxygen, he was badly burned, but he's still with us."
"But you need to be realistic about this," the nurse warned him, "There is a very real chance your brother will suffer serious complications from this."
Dean shook his head. He didn't want to be realistic; he wanted to go into Sam's hospital room and see his brother smiling, maybe make a joke, and tell him off for being such a jerk earlier. He wanted Sam to be unharmed and whole, despite what the nurse said.
"Let me take you to your brother," the nurse said, "Dr. O'Brien should still be with him."
Dean followed silently, angry with himself and the nurse, as she led him down a series of hallways he barely registered until they entered the Intensive Care Unit.
W
Stepping into his brother's hospital room, Dean saw that his brother was indeed unconscious. A monitor was the only sound in the room, pinging steadily with every beat of San's heart.
A middle-aged doctor was bent over the young man, muttering quietly to himself and taking notes on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard.
"Dr. O'Brien, this is Dean Winchester," the nurse spoke up, "Sam's brother."
The doctor straightened up and turned to the hunter.
"Did Shelley speak to you?" he asked, indicating the nurse.
Dean nodded.
"Can you tell me if Sam's going to be okay?"
"The very fact that your brother is still alive is amazing," Dr. O'Brien told him, mirroring the nurse's earlier words.
"But he will have a long and painful road to recovery," he added.
"The… The nurse," Dean began but paused, swallowing thickly. He couldn't take his gaze from his brother's face, peaceful; as though he were merely sleeping and would wake up if they spoke too loudly.
"She said Sam could have disabilities for the rest of his life?"
Dr. O'Brien nodded solemnly.
"Shelley told you we had to amputate his foot?"
"Y-Yeah," Dean muttered, "She did."
"When the lightning exited your brother's body, it caused severe damage to the tissue and nerves of his foot. There would have been no way to save it."
"Will he be able to walk?" Dean asked, feeling stupid for asking but he couldn't imagine Sam being stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
"There are a number of prosthetics nowadays available, and though none of them is cheap, your brother will be able to walk using one," Dr. O'Brien explained.
Dean nodded, feeling rather relieved that he wouldn't have to try and fit a wheelchair into the back of the Impala.
"What… What about his arm?"
The doctor lifted the blankets to reveal Sam's left arm covered from shoulder to fingertips in white bandages.
"I'd like to be able to save the limb," Dr. O'Brien told him, "But… truthfully, I'm not confident we will be able to."
"Is that it?" Dean asked, challengingly. Nothing was ever this cut and dry when it came to his injured brother. There was always something else, a cherry on top of an already shitty, shitty cake.
"Your brother is in a coma right now," Dr. O'Brien began; Dean nodded, he already knew this, "Because the pain he would be in if he was awake would be excruciating. So, I cannot tell yet what kind of neurological or mental damage was caused by the lightning strike."
"How long will Sam be like this?" Dean asked.
"At least a week," Dr. O'Brien told him, "I want his injuries to heal some before we wake him up. Then, we should be able to treat his pain with strong analgesics."
"Or you'll know if you have to take Sammy's arm too," Dean added crudely.
"Yes," Dr. O'Brien admitted.
Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
"Okay," he muttered because he had nothing else to say.
The doctor nodded and left, going to see his other patients, leaving Dean alone with his brother.
The hunter sat down in a chair placed by his sibling's bed and peered sadly at Sam.
"Damn it, Sammy," Dean whispered, feeling tears sting his eyes, "Why did it have to be you? Why couldn't it have been me? I was the asshole… you were just trying to do your job."
Reaching out, Dean laid his palm over his brother's uninjured hand and prayed that the worst had passed.
Author's Note:
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