The wrath of Dean – gotta love the guy.
Just in case anyone was wondering IXII 911. Thanks to everyone for the reviews.
Spirit – Chapter 4
Dean became aware that there was something in his throat making it difficult to breathe. Choking, he reached up and felt a tube going into his mouth and tried to pull it out. He opened his eyes when he heard a man's voice yelling at him to stop and his hands were pulled away from the tubing. "Mr. Mueller stop. Don't struggle, you're on a respirator," the nurse said loudly as he tried to catch Dean's frantic eyes. "Page Doctor Flannery, stat!" he yelled over his shoulder.
Tripp came running with John a step behind him. "Damian what happened?" he asked the nurse holding Dean's hands down.
"I found him choking and trying to pull out his intubation tube."
John grabbed one of Dean's hands, "Dean you're okay. Calm down."
"Dean, I'm Doctor Flannery. Just hold on a minute and I'll get this tube pulled out." He pulled the connection to the respirator off the tube and turned off the machine. "Dean I need you to take a deep breath, hold it and breathe out as I pull out the tube." He moved to the head of the bed and looked Dean in the eye, "are you ready?"
"Huh ya." Dean took a deep breath and blew out as directed while Dr. Flannery pulled the tube out. He coughed and spit out phlegm after the tube was removed.
"Are you alright Son?" John asked anxiously.
"Yeah," Dean rasped, he looked around and up at Dr. Flannery, "can you get this thing out of my nose and…" he looked under his blanket, "ah geez, this catheter out? I need to go see somebody."
"Dean, uhm Sammy is…"
"In the ER, yeah I know Dad. Go back to him, he needs you right now. I'll be down soon."
"Dean how did you know?" asked Dr. Flannery.
"Doc, please just get this stuff out of me." The removal of the catheter topped Dean's list of 'Humiliating Things That Happened To Me This Week' and if Sammy mentioned anything about it he was going to have to remind him of big brother's prerogative. After the nurses left with a warning to take it easy and to call them when he was ready to go see his brother, he peeked out of the doorway and walked slowly to the Psychiatric Unit. He pushed the buzzer outside the door and demanded to see Dr. Dareem, "tell her that it's Dean Mueller and I know what she did to Sammy!" subtlety was not a Dean trait. Dr. Dareem acquiesced to his 'request' and Dean was escorted by Todd to the Doctor's office. Todd stood guard inside Dr. Dareem's office. "Leave Todd." Startled Todd looked at Dr. Dareem for permission, she nodded.
"I'll be right outside if you need me Doc," said Todd glaring at him. Dean just gave him a hard stare and Todd closed the door.
Dr. Dareem sat down and indicated that Dean should sit also. "So Mr. Mueller, it's nice to see you up and…"
Dean stood in front of the desk, "shut it lady."
"Mr. Mueller, I…"
"Lady, shut your pie hole! Let me explain some things to you about my baby brother. First, he doesn't lie, when he said that he saw my spirit, he saw my spirit. It wasn't a hallucination. Second, he didn't attack your orderlies, they attacked him and you are very lucky that he didn't put you through a wall. Third, telling him that he isn't taking you seriously is a crock, no one takes you seriously." Dean placed his hands on the desk and leaned over, right into the Doctor's face. "Fourth, if you ever again imply that he intentionally drove out in front of that semi in a suicide attempt or to kill Dad and I, you had better hope to God that I don't find out. But guess what? I know all about it you stupid bitch. I stood here and watched my baby brother go into anaphylactic shock and the only thing you could say was 'Stop the act'," he said in a deadly growl. Dr. Dareem's eyes widened in fear, she reached for the phone. Dean grabbed her hand, "and what do you think you're doing?" he said with malice.
"Sam told you this. I'm calling the ER," Dean let her hand go and she dialed a number, "Natalia is Sam awake?"
"No, he's still unconscious. Why?"
"Thanks." She looked up at Dean, white faced and shaking. "How did you know?"
"As I said, Sammy wasn't lying. He could see me and I followed him around." He walked around the desk and turned the Doctor's chair to face him. "I saw you drug him, tie him to a bed, imply suicide, and ignore his allergic reaction. If Sammy doesn't make it NOTHING on this Earth will save you." Dean pushed her chair against the wall and loomed threateningly over her; he looked her straight in the eye. "Do I make myself clear?"
Autumn tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Nothing came out when she tried to talk so the only thing she could do was nod yes.
"Good. You will now release Sammy from your 72 hour psych hold and never come near him again."
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Dean arrived in Sam's room in a wheelchair pushed by Dr. Flannery. "Dean where have you been?" John asked as he stood up.
"I found him walking, and I use that term very loosely, here from a little visit to Doctor Dareem. He's promised to lie down and rest after he's visited his brother," replied Dr. Flannery as he pushed the wheelchair up to Sam's bed.
Dean reached out and placed his hand on Sam's arm. "How's Sammy doing Dad?" He noticed that the rash had spread up to Sam's face and down his chest and arms.
"He's still not breathing on his own Dean." John sat back down on his chair. "He hasn't needed any more epinephrine but they gave him some antihistamines to go along with the second IV of steroids."
"Corticosteroids," corrected Dr. Flannery. "His hives aren't spreading anymore but it will still be a few more hours before all of the Chlorpromazine is out of his system." He looked directly at Dean, "when you are ready to go to your room, page a nurse and you will be wheeled back. You are not to walk back Dean. Right?"
"Okay Dad. I will page a nurse to wheel me back to my room. Happy?"
"Ecstatic. I will check in on you later." Dr. Flannery started to leave the room but he stopped in the doorway, "Dean." He looked back at the Doctor. "If Sam is half as strong as you he will be alright."
Tripp smiled and left the room. Dean glanced over at John. "Dad."
"Doctor Dareem released Sammy from the 72 hour psych hold."
"Good." He sat there for a minute, thinking. "Did you threaten her?"
"Good." They sat there watching Sam and listening to the gentle hiss of the respirator. Dean eventually fell asleep with his head resting against Sam's hip. John got up and dug around in the cabinets until he found a blanket and covered Dean up. He placed his hand on Dean's head for a moment, "I'm glad your back Son." He sat back down in his chair and prayed for his boys.
A low moan woke John from a light doze. His head came up and he heard the moan again. He stood up and placed his hand on Sam's chest, "Sammy? Sammy, can you open your eyes for me?" Sam's eyes moved under his eyelids. "Come on Sam wake up. Dean's out of his coma and wants to see you." His head moved a little and he moaned again. John shook Dean's shoulder, "Dean wake up. You need to talk to your brother and help him wake up." John pushed the nurse call button.
Dean awoke with a jerk. "Sam." He looked over at John, "Dad?" and then down at his brother. Sam moaned again and jerked his legs. "Sammy time to wake up," he said putting his hand on Sam's forehead, "Sammy." Sam slowly opened his eyes. "Hey Francis," he smiled, "finally decided to come back to the land of the living, huh." Sam's eyes slid away from Dean and over to their Dad. He wrinkled his forehead in confusion and lifted his hand to the intubation tube. Dean lowered Sam's arm, "leave it alone Sam, its helping you breathe."
"Son do you remember what happened?" asked John. Sam's eyes rolled back and forth between the two men, he shook his head slightly. "You had an allergic reaction to the medication that Doctor Dareem prescribed."
Sam closed his eyes for a second then looked up at the ceiling. Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder. "It's alright Sammy," he turned his eyes to look at Dean, "she isn't coming near you again."
A nurse came into the room saw that Sam was awake and picked up the phone, "page Dr. Vallejo to ER room 5." She walked over to Sam, "I'm going to take your pulse." She wrote the results down on a chart and grabbed a thermometer, "now I need to take your temperature," she said as she placed it in his ear.
"What is it?" asked John.
Dr. Vallejo arrived in the room in time to hear the nurse's answer. "A low fever is normal Mr. Mueller." She walked over to Sam, "hi Sam, I'm Doctor Vallejo. I'm going to disconnect the respirator to see if you can breathe on your own." She put on her stethoscope and listened to Sam's breathing, "very good. I'm going to remove the tube now alright?" He nodded. "Okay, take a deep breath and blow as I pull it out. One, two, three blow." Sam choked and gagged as the tube was removed. He sat up coughing while Dean patted him on the back.
"Dean, you're back," he croaked.
"In the flesh."
"Sam, we are going to get you moved into a regular room…"
Dean interrupted, "MY room."
"As I said, we'll get you moved into Dean's room. You're still going to feel the effects of the anaphylaxis so no getting up and running around the hospital like a certain older brother." Natalia gave Dean a look indicating that she knew exactly what Dean had been up to.
"Uh, I'll make sure Sam doesn't get up."
"Dean what did you do?" Sam asked lying back down on the bed.
"He almost passed out in the corridor after having a little visit with Doctor Dareem," replied Dr. Flannery as he walked into the room, "I heard that you had woken up Sam. How are you feeling?"
"Crappy." Sam looked at the rash on his arms and winced; he turned his head towards Tripp, "who are you?"
"Doctor Flannery. I've taken over Dean's care from Doctor Behr." He turned to Dean, "so are you ready to go back to your room?"
"I'm going to wait for Sam."
Natalia replied, "it's going to be at least an hour before Sam is moved up so go back to your room and rest Dean."
"Dean go, I'll stay with Sam," said John.
"Okay. Just remember Sammy, my room, my remote."
"There's a MythBusters marathon on tonight isn't there?" Sam rubbed his eyes.
"Kari wants me Sammy," grinned Dean as Dr. Flannery wheeled him out of the room.
Now I have this weird idea for a Dirty Jobs story Supernatural style. Mike Rowe is going to hate me.