Excerpt of Fanfiction

This is from a fanfiction I wrote for Supernatural fandom.  Very geeky I know, but I don’t care.  I’m not alone. lol  Enjoy.

            Dean lifted his head when he felt Bobby’s hand on his shoulder.  They had been at the hospital for the past hour, and nobody had any news about his brother.  The adrenaline rush of getting Sam to the emergency room had long since abated, leaving Dean a quivering mess.  The thought that his brother lie in the same hospital that had claimed their father left him bereft and lost.  He was thankful for Bobby’s presence; he didn’t know what he’d do without the man there to reassure him.

            “Dean, I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Bobby spoke softly behind him. 

            Dean rubbed his hands tiredly over his face as he nodded wearily.  “I know,” he answered hoarsely.  “He’s a
Winchester.”

            Both men lifted their heads in hope when a doctor walked through the door to the waiting room. 

            “Someone here for Sam Palsey?”

            Dean jumped up in earnest, heading straight for the man.  He could hear Bobby hot on his heels.

            “Doctor?  I’m his brother.  Do they know what’s wrong with him?” Dean watched the doctor’s face for any response.

            “Mr. Palsey, why don’t we sit down?” Dean seemed to hesitate, and then followed the man over to two waiting chairs.  Bobby stood behind him.  Both were hanging on every word.

            “Mr. Palsey, Sam is suffering from septicemia.  Blood poisoning in layman’s terms.  He apparently had a sliver of glass that the trauma team missed after the accident embedded in his right bicep.  We have removed it, but now all we can do is hope the antibiotics have time to work.  He was brought in with an extremely high temperature, and we’re trying to get it down, but I have to warn you Mr. Palsey, it’s not good.  His immune system was already compromised due to the accident and blood loss.”

            Dean hastily wiped the tears that were forming in his eyes at the news.  Not now he prayed.  He’s all I have left.  “Can I see him?” Dean’s face fell when the doctor sighed, and he started plotting how to get in to see his brother.  It was for naught though at the doctor’s next statement.

            “It’s against my better judgment at this point, but maybe you’ll be just what the doctor ordered.  Only you though,” he glanced at Bobby sternly, “I don’t want any stress added to Sam’s system.  He needs all the strength he can get.”

            Dean flashed the biggest shit-eating grin he could manage at the doctor.  “Scout’s honor doc.  I won’t bother him.”

            “Alright then, follow me.”  He led the small family through the hospital corridors until he came upon the ICU.  Dean glanced around nervously when he saw what wing they were keeping his brother in. 

            “We just want to be able to keep an eye on him.  Come on.”  The doctor pushed through the doors, and Bobby nudged Dean to follow him.

            “I’ll be right out here,” Bobby reassured.

            It was eerily quiet inside the ward, and Dean winced every time his shoes scuffed on the linoleum.  Most of the people lying in this part of this hospital were dying, and it made him shudder.  He stopped abruptly when the man in front of him halted in front of a drawn curtain.  Pulling it back, Dean got his first good look at his little brother.

            Sam was as white as the sheets below him, but his face was flushed red from the fever.  His hair was matted to his head by sweat.  There was a thick bandage on his right arm, and he was hooked up to numerous monitors, all beeping that his brother was alive, for now.  He was hooked up to two IVs, both providing the fluids that would save him hopefully.  He was sleeping restlessly, and had kicked the sheets halfway off himself.  None of that was unexpected.  What made Dean’s heart fall to his toes was the tube snaking out of his brother’s mouth.  The whoosh of the ventilator as it breathed for his brother made him flinch every time with the reminder that Sam could not breathe for himself.

            “What’s that for?” Dean jerked his arm in the direction of the ventilator, but he instinctually kept his voice quiet.

            “He was having trouble breathing when he came in.”  The doctor reassured.  “It’s just so that his body can completely concentrate on fighting the infection.  Once he’s regained enough strength, we’ll remove it.”

            Dean nodded as if an automaton, and moved closer to his brother.  He wiped the sweaty bangs off of Sam’s forehead, smirking a little at the length.  He had told Sam multiple times to get a haircut, but
Winchester’s were nothing if not stubborn.  They were definitely two of a kind.

            “Talk to him.  Calm him down.  He’s still semi-conscious at times, and the fever makes him nervous.  Don’t bother the nurses.  Maybe you can help him fight his way back.”  With that the doctor left Dean with the only person in the world that mattered. 

 

            Dean had been lost in his thoughts when he heard the first signs of his brother waking.  He heard a slight gagging, and the beeping on the monitors sped up some.  Sam started clenching his fists and shaking his head from side to side, fighting some unseen predator when Dean reached over to grasp his floundering hand.  Grabbing Sam’s chin, he forced him to face his direction.  Sam blinked sleepily a few times, and then his eyes opened wide in a panicked, glassy stare.  Dean could hear him gagging on the tube and he started rubbing circles on his chest.

            “Sam, Sam!  You’re fine.  Don’t fight it.  Just let go.  Let go!  Let it breathe for you.  With me okay?  In. Out.  In.  Out.  You’re fine, I’m here.”  They continued this way for a tense few moments until Sam’s eyes sparked recognition and his muscles relaxed under Dean’s hands.  He was no longer fighting the ventilator, but Dean could tell he was confused and scared.  Sam had a death grip on his hand, but Dean didn’t feel it past the relief of seeing his brother open his eyes.  He reached over for the cold compress the nurse had brought and laid it gently on Sam’s forehead.  It became apparent that he wouldn’t be getting his other hand back for quite some time, and he was quite okay with that.

            “Shh, it’s okay Sammy.”  Dean kept rubbing soothing circles on Sam’s chest and watched as his brother’s eyelids slowly lowered.  He calmed on the bed, but the grip on Dean’s hand was unrelenting.  Dean took comfort in that.  Sam was still in there fighting.  He sank back into his chair tiredly.  He had been looking after Sam for the last 24 hours, and still his brother’s fever wasn’t going down.  He heard talk of brain damage and organ failure but refused to listen.  As long as Sammy was still in there fighting, they were winning this battle.  Dean didn’t know which battle; the one for Sammy’s life or Dean’s soul, but either way, they would be triumphant, he had no doubt.

 

            The next time Dean was jolted from his uneasy sleep, it was to Sam thrashing on the bed.  The monitors were wailing at him, and almost immediately, personnel were there pushing him out of the way.  He watched on in horror as they tried to hold down his brother, all the while yelling for different medicines to stop the attack.  He watched them plunge a syringe straight into Sam’s arm, and almost instantaneously he went limp.  He could do nothing but stare as they cleaned him up and reinserted IVs and wires that had been torn off.  As the last nurse was leaving, she gave him a subtle pat on the back and a small smile in sympathy.  Dean was still standing there in shock when the doctor came to stand in front of him. 

            “What was that?” he whispered, unaware of the tears that had started flowing down his cheeks as he watched them work on his brother.

            “Dean, come sit down.”  The doctor led him back over to Sammy’s bedside.  Dean immediately grabbed for Sam’s hand, being careful of the tubing and monitors.  The fingers he held felt somewhat clammy, but they grasped his gently back and he was heartened by it.  Sam still trusted him.  He would do everything in his power to make sure things were made right between himself and his brother, but he would need Sammy healthy first.

            The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into the kind face.  The doctor addressed him as if speaking to a child, but at this point, he really didn’t care.  In fact, he was almost grateful for the platitudes since he felt so close to breaking himself.

            “He had a seizure, but it was actually a good thing.  The fever broke, and after having that high a temperature for so long, it sent his nervous system into a shock.  Now we just have to wait until he wakes up to see if there was any long-term damage.”  The doctor patted Sam on the hang before leaving.  “I’ll be by in a little bit to check his vitals.  He’s quite the fighter.”

            You have no idea Dean smirked.  His Sam was going to be okay.  He just knew it.  He had to be.

           

            “Dean, I swear, if you don’t go get some damn sleep, I’ll cut and run.”  Sam did his best to give his brother an intimidating glare, but it was offset by the corners of his mouth quirking up. 

            Dean glanced at Sam and smirked at him bemused.  “Yeah, and who’s gonna bring the wheelchair to roll you out?”  Sam was definitely looking better than he had two days ago after the seizure, but he was still far from hale.  His hair hung in lanky strands around his pale face, and his eyes were so sunken in he looked like a raccoon.  Dean still winced every time he saw his little brother’s chest and how his ribs stuck out.  The kid had lost a lot of weight, but at least he was breathing on his own.  Dean had to close his eyes at the memory of the ventilator.  He’d never been so ecstatic than when they removed it.  He remembered the hell of gagging on that thing.  Stop he told himself.  That line of thought led down a path to memories he’d rather not dwell in.

            “Um hello?” Sam was waving his hand feebly in front of Dean’s face.  As soon as Dean looked up, he sank back into the bed.  “You were a million miles away.  What’s up?”

            Dean just shook his head and shrugged.  He wasn’t sure if they were ready for this talk.  He knew he needed to apologize for his actions after their father’s death, but he couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat every time he tried.  Instead, he just sat back down on the chair that had become a second home over the last few days.  A second uncomfortable home, but Dean wasn’t about to start complaining now that he had Sam back.

            “Seriously man,” Sam fixed him with those puppy dog eyes.  “You need sleep, you look like hell.  I’m fine now; you don’t have to worry anymore.”

            “Like hell Sam.  Just stop.  I’m not going anywhere,” Dean practically growled.  Sam shrank back at the harsh tone, and Dean could see the shutters go down in his expressive eyes.  It was the same look he had given him on that deserted roadway, and Dean’s heart broke then and there.  With tears welling up in his eyes, he gave a heavy sigh and grabbed for Sam’s hand.  The expression on Sam’s face would have been hysterical in any situation but this one.

            “Dean, man, I’m okay now.”  Sam leaned over to pat Dean on the shoulder awkwardly.  When did it come to this?  Why were they always walking on eggshells around each other?

            “No, Sammy, you’re not.”  Dean looked up, and Sam’s eyes got wider at the look of unabashed agony on his brother’s face.  “Neither of us is.”

            Sam opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again just as quickly.  This is what he had been waiting for since their father had died, and though the raw agony his brother was in tore at his heart, he realized the necessity of this catharsis. 

            Tears streamed down Dean’s face unwarranted and his shoulders shook in silent sobs.  Sam found that his own eyes were moistening at the site.  Dean’s next word made his heart burst with love for his brother. 

            “Sam, Sammy,” Dean took an exaggerated breath, “I love you.  I know I don’t say it enough, but I almost lost you and…” Dean couldn’t finish as he was overwhelmed by emotions he had kept locked away for weeks now.  With a surge he enveloped Sam in his arms and it was at that moment that Sam realized they had a long way to go, but they’d be okay as long as they had each other.

 

*Alright guys, that’s it.  I’m sorry if the ending sucked, but I’m so much better at limp!Sam than resolving stuff between them.  Plus, I wanted to leave it so it could segway into Bloodlust.  At this point nothing is resolved anyway, but deep down I just know Dean realizes that he’d be nowhere without Sam.If you want to read the rest of it, go to www.fanfiction.net and look for stories by dancer51.