Ginger and coconut milk chicken soup with rice and carrots. So far that was the only real food Sophie had been able to keep down. Dean wasn't sure how to thank his brother for stumbling on the recipe in a panic-induced Google-search black hole. But Sophie had eaten a whole meal both of the last two days. And she hadn't immediately puked it back up. She was still nauseous and weak and the hot flashes were awful, but at least she was keeping down some food besides graham crackers and applesauce.
Sophie was curled up on their bedroom couch when Dean came to get her, nursing a cup of peppermint tea and thumbing through a book titled "Scandi-Baby: How to Raise Children the Danish Way." She'd had a couple of minor seizures in the two days since her disastrous hospital visit, but nothing awful. She passed out once, she didn't hit her head but she did have some nasty bruises on her upper arms from where Sam had caught her. And she'd slept - at least a little. Dean had been keeping tabs and estimated only about ten hours between the three nights plus a few hours that afternoon after the doctor's appointment, but it was better than nothing. So they were going up to Sioux Falls, hoping someone would give them answers.
The drive was blissfully uneventful, at least by the standards of the last few days. They had to pull over seven times between Lebanon and Sioux Falls so that Sophie could retch up bile. And it was making Dean anxious. But they got there in one piece. Jody adored Sophie, though they'd only met in passing, and the maternal instinct kicked in immediately. Before Dean had a chance to get around to the passenger side of the car, Jody was there, opening Sophie's door, helping her up, ushering her into the house with promises of chamomile tea and banana bread.
Dean followed with their bags, dumping their things in the guest room before coming downstairs with a printout of the recipe Sam made the night before.
"How are things?" Jody asked.
Dean shrugged, "They've been better."
Sophie looked sheepish as she tucked herself under his arm.
"As of right now this is the only real food she's been able to eat without throwing up," Dean said, handing Jody the paper.
"I'll get right on it," Jody said, "You two had a long drive. Clean up. Rest up. I'll call you for dinner."
Sophie sat on the edge of the guest bed, sorting through the contents of their luggage.
"If I am remembering correctly," Dean said, taking off his shoes and sitting down beside her, "There is a bathroom through there with a tub."
"And…"
"And my guess is that after the last few days you probably hurt all over?" Dean continued, "So how about we get you a nice, hot bath. Then we can shower together before dinner. We'll watch a movie after, okay? Anything you want and I promise I won't complain."
Sophie rolled her shoulders.
"That would be nice," she smiled.
Hot water helped. And as she got dressed for dinner Sophie seemed a little brighter, a little more energetic.
"You're feeling better?" Dean asked, handing her a clean shirt.
"Oh I still could vomit at any second. And my head doesn't feel great," Sophie chuckled a bit, "But it feels safe here. I can get outside easily. I have space and air. There's a real hospital. And I like Jody."
"Plus Cas isn't sniffing you every couple hours…" Dean snorted. He'd tried to tell Castiel off, insisting that the habit was damaging his burgeoning relationship with Sophie. Cas had believed none of it.
"That helps," Sophie agreed.
"Don't over exert yourself," Dean chided, "Please."
"I know," Sophie dipped her head, "I know that feeling better doesn't mean I am. And I know that if I smell something off or turn my head too quickly or heaven knows what else I'll be puking again in a second. And I know that if I don't sleep I'll have another seizure. And I know that there's what…a one in four chance that I'll get a migraine tonight and I won't be able to sleep because it hurts too much. I know all of it. I just can't think about it right now. I need one night to just be."
"I couldn't agree more," Dean said.