Sophie was finally back asleep. Dean had gotten her upstairs to their room and she'd drifted off before her head was even on the pillow. But she woke up an hour later screaming. And it'd taken the better part of thirty minutes to get her back down.
And then it happened again.
And again.
It was nearing four o'clock now and Dean had finally, blessedly, gotten her to sleep again when he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder.
"Come with me. We need to talk," Sam said gravely.
"Dude I'm terrified if I move my hand she's gonna wake up and we're gonna be back to square one," Dean whispered. He had one hand on Sophie's good shoulder, the other on her forehead - thumb rubbing tiny circles between her eyebrows.
"Fair enough," Sam agreed, "Who do you want to drive tomorrow?"
"That's what you want to talk about? What kind of a stupid question is that?" Dean was irate.
"A serious one," Sam insisted, "Neither of us is getting any sleep right now. And given there literally isn't a doctor or a drug store in this godforsaken place, we should really get to civilization ASAP. Which means someone needs to be rested enough to drive down to Saskatoon in the morning. And right now, there's not gonna be someone. So. Who do you want to drive tomorrow?"
Dean chewed on his lower lip, debating his options. Chances were that he'd be able to get Sophie back to sleep faster than Sam. But chances were that she'd also really need Dean cogent and helpful tomorrow. There was no way she was letting Sam check those cuts. When Dean thought it through logically, the answer was obvious.
"I'll drive tomorrow. Put her up front with me," Dean said, "You can sleep in the back."
"Okay," Sam agreed.
"So what's the plan?"
"I'm gonna stay here with Sophie," Sam said, "You're gonna go downstairs and take the key for the room across the hall and sleep at least five hours. Got it?"
Dean swallowed hard. His stomach turned at the thought of leaving her right now. But he needed to be able to show up functional and alert in the morning. So there wasn't really a choice.
He kissed Sophie's forehead gently and slipped out of the room.
"How'd she do?" Dean asked as he let himself into their original hotel room. It was a little after nine and he felt surprisingly decent. Sam, on the other hand, looked haggard.
"Well…" Sam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "She woke up. Panicked out of her mind. Took me over an hour to get her back to sleep. She cried for you almost the entire time. Like literally wept. At one point she also smacked me. Said you'd told her it was okay. But eventually I calmed her down and she slept. And then we repeated that little tableau twice more."
Dean sighed.
"You gonna wake her or just carry her to the car?" Sam asked, "I can settle everything with Liza."
"I've gotta check her cuts," Dean said, "With how many times she startled awake she could have torn up the stitches. Can't have her bleeding out on us. You go deal with Liza then come up and pack. I'll take Sophie over to the room across the hall and get her ready to go."
Sam nodded and ducked out the door as Dean knelt by Sophie's sleeping form. He kissed her forehead and whispered her name until she roused.
"Hey baby," he said gently, "You okay?"
"Oh no," Sophie brought her uninjured arm up and covered her eyes, "Everything hurts. So much."
"I know," Dean said placatingly, "I'm sure it does. I'm going to put fresh bandages on and make sure you didn't rip out any stitches when…"
He paused.
"How much of last night do you remember?" He asked.
Sophie went completely still and silent.
"Sophie?"
"All of it," she whispered.
"Meaning…"
"I remember all the dreams, the horrible, horrible dreams. And I remember every time I woke up. And I remember how hard it was to get my brain to quiet down enough that I could stop crying and shaking and even try to sleep. And I remember how horribly the crying and shaking made these cuts hurt. And I remember waking up and you weren't there…And I remember Sam trying to…"
Dean watched the rise and fall of Sophie's chest get faster and less even.
"Hey, hey," he murmured, stroking her uninjured arm, "You're gonna be fine. Alright? I'm here now. I'm gonna take care of you. I promise."
He stood, raked a hand through his hair and debated his options, "Think you can stand if I help?"
"Should be able to," Sophie replied. She looped her good arm around his neck and let him get her on her feet. She was unsteady, but she remained vertical.
"You're doing great," Dean reassured her, "Now. I need to get those bandages off to give the stitches a once over and clean everything up."
He felt her stiffen.
"You're not doing that to me again," Sophie said, avoiding his eyes.
"Not doing what?"
"You're not pouring alcohol in those cuts again, Dean," she tried to pull away.
"Sophie," Dean said, "Sophie look at me."
A long moment passed and eventually she met his gaze.
"No bullshit?" Dean asked.
"No bullshit," Sophie agreed.
"You almost died on me last night," Dean said, his gaze drilling into hers, "So we're not negotiating on this. These are orders. I know you're tired and I know you're in pain and I know that disinfecting cuts like that hurts like a bitch. But this isn't something we're discussing. You want to avoid the possibility of blood poisoning? You want to avoid the risk of a fever so high it kills you? Then you're letting me take care of this. My rules."
Sophie swallowed hard. Dean saw tears brimming in her eyes and he softened immediately.
"Hey," his voice was gentler now. He brushed her cheek with the back of his free hand.
"Okay," Sophie said, her voice shaky. She reached up with her uninjured arm and tried to wipe away the tears before they fell, "Go ahead."
"I'm sorry," Dean said softly, "About all of this. I'll find a way to make it up to you tonight. Okay?"
"Deal," Sophie attempted a smile.
"Now come with me," Dean looped her arm through his and led her across the hall. He hadn't even put a shirt on her last night, just wrapped the bandages around her torso. He didn't want Sam seeing those come off.
"Sit," he instructed, grabbing a pair of scissors, a roll of clean gauze and a few bottles of whiskey from the mini bar.
He cut the bandage around her chest at the knot. None of the wounds were infected at this moment. And she hadn't - by some miracle - ripped out any of her stitches. He doused a wad of gauze in whiskey and held it in front of her.
"On three," he said, putting his other hand on her back. He figured this might make it better. Get her sitting up. Count down to it. Smaller sections at a time. Make her feel more in control. It was no longer an active emergency, after all.
"One, two, three."
And on three he pressed the alcohol-soaked gauze against the first section of cuts on her chest. She pressed back into his opposite hand, clenching her teeth and screwing her eyes shut. He wiped the cuts gently and when he pulled the bloody, whiskey-stained gauze away she was panting from the pain.
"You're doing great," he assured her, carding a hand through her hair and kissing her forehead, "One down…maybe…I'm gonna say eight to go."
Sophie nuzzled into his chest and groaned.
"All done," Dean said as he sealed the new pressure bandage over the bullet wound in her shoulder.
"Oh my word that was awful," Sophie slumped back on the mattress.
"We've gotta get some clothes on you," Dean said, looping an arm under her shoulders and sitting her back up.
"Where are we going again?" Sophie asked groggily.
"Tonight? Saskatoon. We'll make a plan from there," Dean said as he rifled through his bags searching for something to put her in. She could hardly move her right arm so anything going on over her head was a lost cause. She was already wearing a pair of his sweats, so he just grabbed one of his button-front work shirts, a black one in case she bled on it.
"Why?" Sophie asked.
"Because there's not even a pharmacy in this town," he said, helping her into the shirt, "I wouldn't normally stitch up cuts like that myself. But the nearest ER is two and a half hours from this damn lake. Besides, I think being away from this place might help the nightmares."
"Fair enough," Sophie agreed.
"Okay," Dean said, standing up, "You're decent. Now let's get you fed and caffeinated. We've got a lot of driving to do today."