Thank you all so much for your reviews! It's really what helps me keep going when I'm stuck in a rut. Hope you like this chapter.
Dean hears Sam before he sees him. Sam was moved out of the ICU an hour ago and Dean follows the direction of the hospital staff to Sam's new room. The hospital isn't very big and noise travels easily through the hallways. Dean can hear Sam's easy going laugh a few doors down. Like he said, the kid is never quiet. He makes his way to Sam's room and halts at the doorway.
Sam's bed is raised and Sam is sitting forward, remote clutched in his hand, flipping through the channels of the television suspended from the ceiling directly across his bed. He is chattering away with the nurse who is checking his vitals.
The nurse is laughing at whatever outlandish story Sam is probably weaving. Sam always manages to wrap all of the nurses and doctors around his finger. Once, one of Sam's nurses had made a special trip to the store to get him Lime Jell-O because Sam didn't like the Strawberry Jell-O that they were serving in the hospital cafeteria. Dean pegs his little brother's puppy eyes and floppy hair as the key. Sam seems to bring out the maternal instinct in people that Dean just can't seem to do.
When Sam sees Dean hovering in the doorway, Sam stops talking. The nurse looks up at Sam's abrupt silence and sees Dean. She's pretty, young and blond and under any other circumstances, Dean would have hit on her but right now all he wanted to do was make sure Sam was okay with his own eyes. The nurse must understand Dean's worried glance because she reassures Dean that his brother is fine and with that, leaves the room.
Dean. Sam is grinning tiredly, obviously happy to see him as he motions for Dean to sit on the edge of his bed. Sam looks exhausted, bags underneath his eyes but with color back in his face, it makes him look almost healthy. Sam's bangs hang in his eyes and Dean makes a mental memo that the kid needs to be dragged to the barber soon. Sam always looks years younger in the light blue hospital gowns
How are you feeling Sammy? Dean tries to keep down the raw emotion that has been building up inside him since Sam's seizure and fails. Dean is so damn relieved that Sam is okay. The tears threaten to spill so he turns away from Sam and wipes at them before Sam notices.
Tired. Sam admits.
Dean nods. He pulls up one of the chairs next to Sam's bedside. Last night when Sam had briefly woken up he was too out of it to know what was going on. The drugs had pulled him under before John or Dean could give him an explanation. Dean was grateful he hadn't had to describe to Sam what had happened last night.
Where's Dad? Sam asks.
Talking to your neurologist. Dean says. Sam nods, turning off the television and setting the remote on his lap. After a moment of silence, Sam talks.
Are you okay Dean? Sam says. Dean laughs humorlessly. Sam is asking him if he's okay and the kid is the one who was weaned off the ventilator last night.
I'm fine Sammy. I'm glad your okay. Dean claps Sam roughly on the shoulder and smiles at him trying to block the images of Sam seizing that won't stop creeping into his mind.
Dad said they are going to start you on new medication. Dean says and Sam's face falls.
Dean. I don't want to. Sam protests.
I don't care if you want to or not.
But I don't want to.
Dean slams his fist on the counter next to Sam's bed making him jump. God Damnit Sammy, you're taking your fucking medications or I swear to God I will fucking kick your ass myself. Dean can't help at how angry he sounds. He never wants to witness that again. Ever.
Sam stares at his hand, fiddles with the pulse ox monitor on his finger. It was that bad, huh?
Dean looks away and ignores his question. The doctor's are going to make sure your new meds don't make you a space cadet. You shouldn't even notice being on them. They won't even make you tired, narcoleptic boy.
Sam smiles; a flash of dimples and leans back, letting his head lull to the side so he can watch Dean.
You scared the shit out of me Sam. Dean says. Sam reaches over with obvious effort and grasps Dean's hand. He leans back, breathing hard. Dean knows the seizures take heavy toll on Sam physically as well as mentally. Dean doesn't even pull his hand away because screw the chick flick moments, Sam's hand isn't limp like it was last night in the ambulance.
I'm okay Dean.
Sam's eyes are drooping and Dean knows it's time for Sam to get some more rest.
Sam slowly blinks at Dean, winces as he moves his leg. Dean knows Sam's muscles are probably sore as hell. They will be for a while.
Not tired. Dean can tell Sam is fighting to keep his eyes open and his head nods.
Sure your not. Let's lean your bed back. Dean presses the button that slowly lowers the front end of Sam's bed until it's almost completely flat.
Sam dozes but only a couple of minutes go by before his eyelids raise and he looks directly at Dean.
I hate this. Sam doesn't sound angry, he doesn't sound sad. He just says it as if it's a simple fact and that's what makes Dean feel an ache of pain. Sam shouldn't have to go through this. No one should.
I wanted to get my drivers license. Sam says suddenly emotion drained from his voice. But Dean knows his brother and can see the hint of pure disappointment in his eyes.
Dean had completely forgotten about Sam's test.
Like I said Sammy. We'll just whip you up a fake one.
No. Sam shakes his head. No. What if I hurt somebody?
Sleep Sam. Dean says again.
This time, Sam obeys, eyes closing and chest hitching slightly as he drops off into sleep.
Dean sits with Sam for a long time wondering why out of all the people in the world this had to happen to his little brother and not liking any of the unknown answers.
Let me know if you liked it/hated it, you know, the works. Hahaha.