Hey Dad, it's Sam. You're probably won't get this, but it's Dean. He's sick and the doctors say there's nothing they can do. But they don't know the things we know, right? So don't worry 'cause I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright. Just wanted you to know.
He had half a mind to pull the IV out of his hand and walk out the door, gown flapping in the wind. Give them all a good show, he didn't care. The bed was too white, too fluffy, too clean. None of it yelled comfort and what did was states away, God knows where. He'd do it, leave, done it many times before, even pretended to be a doctor once to get out. Sometimes his clothes were so shredded after the nurses got their hands on them, he'd have to settle for scrubs. He was stunning looking doctor, could probably make his patients feel good by just walking into the room, had chosen another profession.
Blue invaded his fingers and toes; they said it was not a good thing for them to be cool to the touch. From experience, he knew that also. Knew the medical names too.
He shook his head, definitely would have been a good doctor had things been different.
No way his blue tinged feet were going to get him out of here. He couldn't feel them really, like they were asleep. No pins and needles, just nothing, all due to bad blood flow. That's what happens when the heart conks out on you.
Maybe there was more to this, he mused, a reason why it was his heart that was failing him. Without a doubt it was the strongest muscle in the body, every minute, every second, every day it moved, pushing life through a person. It's the reason why there was breath, without the heart there is no need to breath. Everything was useless, empty without it, veins would disappear, cells die, function ceasing at every part.
His mission was of the heart. Everyday he pushed harder, making it do more than it should. It wasn't following his orders anymore. Now it was telling him what to do.
He eyed the IV again with a ghost of a movement toward it, visualizing himself getting up and into his car. They were still out there, alone, hurt. He shouldn't be here in this room, waiting for a damn pacemaker. If the heart went, the heart went, nothing he could do about it. How ironic a death it would be. Sam would get the joke, he usually did even if he didn't laugh.
At least the toes moved. He couldn't feel it but definitely saw it under the blanket.
"What did we tell you about cell phones?" Damn it to hell, he was getting slow in his old age, not hiding the phone under his pillow.
Smile old man, you still can act.
"Don't worry, I'm just making sure you didn't delete your number from it while I was out." She giggled.
"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you are hitting on me." He smirked.
"If a man has your number in his phone, then he has a right to hit on you."
"Still doesn't give him the right to have the phone in the hospital."
"How do you think I got the number in there in the first place?"
"Cute." He internally sighed. The blond doctor held out her hand, waiting. "Oh come on, I wasn't using it." He pulled it closer to his chest, face set. His heart needed him to stay here, but they needed him.
A grunt escaped as he sat up. Follow the damn order heart or so help--
"Hospital policy." She moved closer. "Come on, if you need to make a call you can use the hospital phone. It's not a big deal."
"Then why take mine?"
She pointed toward his chest after a slight hesitation.
"Sensitive equipment." Pacemaker, right. His grip tightened around the plastic casing of the phone, small creaking noises leaving his hand. She took the phone. " It's not worth dying over, Denny. You will get it back." He didn't answer her. She was a smart cookie and got the message and left.
Passing through the doorway was effortless to her. Taking the phone from him was simple and easy. He knew for a fact that he had a death grip on the phone, not even Dean could have gotten the object from him when he was like that.
It's Dean. He's sick and the doctors say there's nothing they can do
John needed to get to them.
His heart wouldn't let him.
AN: Anyone get the crossover?