This story's been bouncing around in my head since I saw the spoiler stills for "In My Time Of Dying". What if only Sam could see Dean? I'm basing it off the pics of Sam and Dean in John's hospital room and Sam with Dean in his room. Remember this is before the show aired, so what happens in my world and in the SN world are two completely different things.
Sam walked into his Dad's hospital room carrying a duffel bag of clothes. He saw his brother standing next to the window, "Hi Dean," he said before he turned around and threw the duffel onto his Dad's bed. Dean turned around with a shocked look on his face.
"Sam did you just say 'Hi' do your brother?" John asked.
"Yeah, he's over there next to the window," pointed Sam.
"Can you see me Sam?" Dean walked closer to his brother.
"Of course I can see you Dean," Sam replied before turning back to their Dad, "what do you mean 'Did you just say Hi to your brother' Dad? He's standing right next to me." His Dad just stared at him with a concerned look on his face. "What? Can't you see him?"
"No Sam, I can't see him. Are you okay? Do you have a concussion?"
"Sam." Dean laid his hand on Sam's shoulder and it went right through.
Sam shivered slightly. "Dad I don't have a concussion. Dean's right here next to me."
Dr. Jack Behr listened to the conversation inside John Mueller's hospital room. He grew concerned about Sam Mueller's mental state as the conversation progressed.
"Dean's not there Son."
"Your brother's in a coma remember? He's in his room down in the ICU pod."
Dr. Behr decided to step in, "Mr. Mueller I see that you are awake. How are you feeling?" he asked as he walked past Sam and over to John. He put on his stethoscope and listened to John's breathing and heart rate. "No difficulty in breathing Mr. Mueller?" John shook his head. "And how about you Sam? How are you feeling? Any nausea…headaches...dizziness?"
"Good, good. Now I'd like to talk to your Father alone if I might. Have you eaten anything? The cafeteria is serving quesadillas today and they're pretty good," he said smiling at Sam.
"I'm not hungry, thanks."
John gestured for Sam to leave, "Sammy why don't you go visit with your brother," his eyes shifted between Sam and the empty space next to him, "in his room."
"Sure, see ya Dad." Sam turned away from John and Dr. Behr and glanced at Dean before leaving the room.
"Mr. Mueller I'm concerned about Sam's mental state."
"I'm sorry but I overheard the conversation between you and your son. Sam seeing his comatose brother in here and conversing with him, that isn't a good sign. I think that he might be having a psychotic episode."
"You listened…psychotic…our conversation was private Doctor," John replied angrily.
"Mr. Mueller I apologize." Dr. Behr held his hands up in a placating manner and tried a different tactic. "Has Sam been under a lot of stress?"
John stared at the wall for a few moments, "his girlfriend died in an apartment fire about a year ago. Sam would have died to if Dean hadn't pulled him out. But he seems to have pulled himself back together."
"Does he feel guilty for surviving the fire?"
"What? Why would he feel guilty?" asked John, "the fire was an accident and there was nothing he could have done to save Jessica." John got annoyed, "Doc drop it. Sam and Dean are very close and he just misses talking to his brother."
"Mr. Mueller there is nothing shameful about needing psychiatric help and I believe that Sam could benefit by being seen by our resident Psychiatrist. He's having hallucinations and if the worst was to happen and Dean died…"
"Dean isn't going to die!" John interrupted loudly.
"I'm talking about a worse case scenario Mr. Mueller. If Dean dies it could cause Sam to have a full psychotic breakdown. He could possibly become suicidal." Dr. Behr did his best to make John see that Sam needed intervention now and that burying his head in the sand would not help Sam.
"No." John's tone indicated that any further discussion would be loud and futile. Being a former Marine had its uses.
Jack recognized a lost cause when he saw one, excused himself and left the room. He wasn't going to drop Sam's case and was determined to help the young man even if his Father didn't think it was necessary. He pulled out his cell and called a friend in the Psychiatric Department. "Autumn? Its Jack, I have a favor to ask. I have a patient, Sam Mueller, I believe he has a delusional disorder but his Father refuses to see it. He's seeing and talking to his brother…his brother is in a coma…yes he talks back like he's having a regular conversation. Dean Mueller - room 308. Thanks, I owe you one. Sure. Thanks again." He snapped his phone shut and went to get ready for what he knew was going to be a knock-down-drag-out fight for Sam's mental health.
IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII
Sam sat on the bed and watched his brother's unconscious body, a respirator gently hissed in the background. "Dean," he looked up at Dean standing next to the bed, "you're a spirit. How in the hell am I seeing your spirit?"
"I don't know Sam you're the Ghost Whisperer of the family. I'm just glad you can otherwise I'd be driving myself nuts trying to get your attention."
"It must be because of my psychic abilities I guess." Sam rubbed Dean's arm. "But what good are my abilities if you're stuck in a coma? It isn't like I can guide you back to your body, cause you're here and," he gestured at Dean's unmoving body, "you haven't been sucked back in."
Dean rubbed his face. "Geez Sammy," Dean stopped and looked around, "hey you haven't seen any other spirits floating around have you?"
"Dean how could I tell? You look pretty solid to me; except when you do that," Sam pointed to Dean's hand as he waved it through the monitors attached to his body. "Dean stop, you're creeping me out."
"Okay, okay. So, no book titled For the Recently Deceased lying around and no Grim Reaper showing his fugly face. So what the hell is going on?"
"Maybe you need to atone."
"Atone? Are you freakin' nuts Sam? Atone for what? Killing evil sons of bitches is my job and I'm not going to apologize for it," growled Dean.
"Dean it was just an idea," Sam yelled back, "I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't know how to bring you back!" Sam got up and kicked a chair against the wall; he ran his fingers through his hair and turned back to Dean. "I don't know what to do Dean."
"You need to calm down Mr. Mueller," said a woman walking into the room wearing a white lab coat. Sam and Dean turned and stared at the woman. "You need to come with me right now Mr. Mueller. You're disturbing your brother."
"Disturbing my bro…lady he's in a coma," Sam said pointing at Dean. "Jessica Alba could come leaping through here wearing a string bikini and he wouldn't wake up."
Dean grinned at the image of Jessica Alba in a string bikini before he hurried around the bed and stood between Sam and Lab Coat Lady. "Sam," warned Dean. Sam glanced at Dean and then back to the woman.
"I'm Doctor Autumn Dareem, the resident Psychiatrist. Doctor Behr called me in to consult on your case."
"Sammy, I think the shit has hit the fan."
"My case, huh," Sam laughed, "well Doc you've been misled. There's nothing wrong with me that my brother waking up from his coma wouldn't cure." He started to walk towards the door when Dr. Dareem stepped in front of him. "Doc get out of my way. I need to go talk to my Dad." He looked down at her and she stared back up at him and didn't move, so he grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her out of his way, more or less gently, and went out the door and into the hallway. He stopped when he saw two bulky orderlies leaning against the central nurse's station.
"Mr. Mueller, I must insist." Sam turned and glared at her. "You are having auditory and visual hallucinations. You must be properly evaluated and medicated before I can allow you to see your brother again. He isn't safe around you right now." She nodded at the orderlies and they moved in to take Sam by the arms. Unfortunately for them Sam's reaction wasn't exactly what they expected. The first orderly took an elbow in the stomach and right hook to the jaw. The second orderly managed to grab Sam around the shoulders from behind but Sam pushed himself backwards and squashed the man into the wall. When he released his grip Sam pulled away, turned around, grabbed the orderly's head and shoved it down as he brought his knee up and broke the man's nose, he let the man slide to the floor. Sam heard Dr. Dareem on the phone as he ran off. When he rounded the corner to the corridor leading to his Dad's room, Sam caught sight of three orderlies loitering outside his room. He quickly stepped back and peeked around the corner. He leaned back, closed his eyes for a minute and banged his head against the wall, "damnit." He peeked around the corner again.
"Aaah!" Sam involuntarily yelled and jumped back. "Dean!"
"Sam run!" yelled Dean as the three orderlies came running down the corridor. Sam's yell had alerted them to his presence.
Sam looked up the corridor, "shit," and took off running. He ran down another corridor, around a corner, through a set of doors and right into two more orderlies. They fell down in a heap of arms and legs. Sam managed to get to his knees and deck one orderly before the three that had been chasing him showed up. An orderly grabbed him from behind and hauled him upright. "Get off me, damnit!" he yelled as he kicked out and connected with the two orderlies trying to grab his legs, knocking them down. He grabbed one of the arms around him, forced it up to his mouth and bit down hard. The orderly screamed and let him go.
"Sam, behind you," shouted Dean.
Sam spit, wiped his mouth and went two steps before he was tackled from behind. All the air was forced from his lungs as the orderly who had tackled him landed on his back. Coughing and trying to catch his breath, he kicked out with his legs, attempting to wriggle out from under the man who outweighed him by 40 pounds. "Aaah!" he rasped as his arms were twisted up behind his back. The orderly flipped them over and Sam kicked out as his legs were grabbed and held tight. "Let me go!" Sam struggled and yelled as they lifted him off the ground and onto a gurney. He threw his head back and connected with the orderly's mouth, the pain caused the man to relax his grip slightly but not enough for Sam to get loose.
"Doc hurry up," yelled one of the orderlies holding Sam's legs.
Sam craned his neck around and saw Drs. Behr and Dareem running through the doorway. "Sam, what are you doing?" asked Dr. Behr grabbing ahold of Sam's upper arms and pushing him down.
Sam struggled harder; his kicking caused the gurney to crash against the wall repeatedly. "Let me go! Now!" he yelled in Dr. Behr's face.
"Mr. Mueller calm down!" Dr. Dareem took a syringe out of her pocket and pulled the cap off the needle, "Jack hold him still." She pulled Sam's jacket off his left shoulder, pushed his shirts out of the way, and cleaned his skin with an alcohol wipe.
Sam's eyes widened as the needle came near him, "No, No, No."
"Leave my brother alone!" Dean grabbed at the syringe but his hand passed right through. "Fuck!" He threw his hands up in disgust.
"Nnnnah," Sam clenched his eyes shut in pain as the needle went into his shoulder and he felt the burn of the medication as it was injected into him. He opened his eyes and looked into the concerned faces around him. His breath came in gasps and his struggles weakened. "Dean," he whispered, "help." Sam's head and body felt heavy and sluggish. Dr. Behr was talking and his voice sounded far away.
"Sam you're alright. Don't fight it." Jack watched as Sam's body relaxed, his eyes slid shut and his head rolled to the side. "You can let him go now guys. Thanks for your help. Craig how's your lip?" he asked the orderly pulling Sam's arms out from under his body and straightening them out on the gurney.
"I'll live Doc," he said touching his lip gingerly, "that kid is stronger than he looks." Craig turned to the orderly sitting on the floor. "Come on Sa'id, let's get you down to the ER and get that bite taken care of."
"Crazy kid," replied Sa'id cradling his arm as they walked away.
"Sammy I'm sorry I couldn't help you," Dean said walking next to the gurney as Sam was transported to the Psychiatric Unit. He noticed that one of the cuts on Sam's face had broken open and bled. "How am I going to get you out of this?" He watched over his little brother as the orderlies transferred Sam from the gurney to a bed, stripped off his clothes and shoes and dressed him in orange scrubs. "Hey guys you'd better put his t-shirt back on. He isn't happy unless he's wearing at least two shirts at all times," Dean said to no one in particular. "God, no." He reached out to grab the nearest orderly when they started buckling cuffs around Sam's ankles and wrists and one wide strap across his upper arms and chest. The orderlies spread a blanket over Sam and left as a nurse came in with a chart, first aid kit and an IV tray. The nurse cleaned the blood off Sam's face and closed the cut with a butterfly bandage. She took his temperature, breathing and pulse rates and marked the results on her chart. She started an IV in Sam's right hand, adjusted the drip rate and exited the room. "Damnit Sam, I gotta go see Dad. He has to get you out of here. I'll be back soon."