Yep, another tag to 'Jump the Shark'…couldn't resist. Plus it would have been nice to see Sam in a hospital bed for a change. But alas if the Show writers won't give me what I want and the CW won't give Kripke an extra five…ten…thirty minutes, I'll simply write it myself.
The sound of Sam yelling his name didn't stop Dean from continuing to bludgeon Adam's…no, the ghoul who ate Adam and took his form…brains out. It was the barely above a whisper sound of his name being called again that stopped him. The bloody, brain splattered stone figure fell from his hand as he hurried to his brother's side. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the amount of blood in the bowls below Sam's outstretched arms and how close to unconsciousness he'd slipped. Dean pulled out his knife and cut through the ropes around Sam's right wrist. A slight groan came from his brother when he gently touched him on the bicep. He breathed easier when Sam groaned louder, rolled his head and moved his arm down to his side.
Cutting the ropes wrapping his brother's left wrist Dean saw him lift his head and grimace in pain. He moved further down the dining room table and sliced through the duct tape across Sam's chest. Dean swore under his breath when he noticed a small puddle of blood above Sam's waist. Checking the younger man's side, he found a blood soaked slit in his t-shirt. Before he could check the wound, Sam was grunting in pain as he tried to sit up. "Here," the older man quickly reached out and wrapped his arms around a trembling back. Muttering, "come on, come on, come on," Dean pulled his brother up.
Sam felt even dizzier sitting up and his stomach rolled when he finally got a good look at the long, bleeding slashes on his forearms. "Hang on," Dean said wrapping linen napkins around bleeding, trembling arms, "alright, here we go, here we go." A pain-filled hiss left Sam's lips, all the while his brother is murmuring reassurances, "hang on buddy. All right, all right." Barely able to open his eyes he quietly thanked his big brother for saving his life. "That's what family's for right?" Sam's arms were pressed together and he heard, "keep pressure on that," before the calming presence of his brother disappeared.
Staring at the duct tape stretched across his knees, Sam cataloged the injuries inflicted by the Goa'uld…no wait not Goa'uld…something that sounds.…ghouls, that's it ghouls. 'Gotta stop hanging out on GateWorld.' Blinking rapidly and shaking his head, he started over. 'Okay, first up are my arms,' briefly glances at his lap then back at the duct tape, 'yep still attached…hands are numb though. Uh…next is my cheek,' he scrunches his face up a little and wiggles his nose, 'bruised not broken. Ankle's turn and it feels…sore. Next is…uh,' his thoughts grew fuzzier.
Slumping down he took a stuttering breath when the stab wound sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through his side. Fatigue relentlessly swept over him and he was unable to keep his eyes open any longer. The dizziness in his head and the ringing in his ears increased as the world spun around him. "De..." The table lurched and he fell backwards, cracking his head and right shoulder hard against the tabletop. Whimpering, he pulled his burning arms across his chest and didn't fight the waves of pain and dizziness pulling him down into murky depths.
Rummaging through the kitchen drawers for more towels, Dean heard the unmistakable sound of bone hitting an immovable surface. "Sam? Sammy? Shit," he grabbed dishtowels out of the open drawer along with a ball of kitchen twine and rushed back into the dining room, "Sam," Dean whispered. Dropping the towels and twine next to Sam's body, he gently rolled his head towards him. Pressing two fingers to Sam's neck he checked for a pulse, "damnit Sammy, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he said when he finally felt a slow throb. Tightly wrapping two towels around a blood soaked linen clad arm he then secured the towels with the twine and repeated the procedure on the other arm. When finished, he sliced through the duct tape across Sam's knees and the ropes around his ankles.
Pushing Sam's bangs off his damp forehead, Dean tapped a cool, pale cheek, "wake up Sam, it's time to go." He pulled him up into a seated position, sliding behind the kid to support his back he could feel tiny shivers running through Sam's large frame. His head lolled and his arms flopped while a pained groan made its way out of his parted lips. "Sam I don't want to drag you but I will if you don't wake up." Dean unbuckled his brother's belt, yanked it out of the belt loops then cinched it tight around Sam's waist; securing the last dishtowel against the knife wound.
Jerking his head up Sam whined, "D'n h'rts," while ineffectively swatting at the leather belt and his brother's hands.
"I know Sam but it has to be tight to stop the bleeding. Now up and at 'em." Sam whimpered while being pulled off the table to his feet. He swayed as one of his bandaged arms was draped around his brother's shoulders then steadied when Dean wraped an arm around his waist. "One foot in front of the other, okay Sammy?" He tried to follow Dean's orders, he really did, but it felt like he was walking through molasses. His legs and feet didn't want to cooperate and he stumbled along as the older man propelled him through the kitchen.
Sam cracked his eyes open and the world spun while fading in and out of focus, "'m tired..sle'p." His eyes slid shut again.
"Uh-uh no sleeping yet bro. You need a hospital." Dean maneuvered his unwieldy, Sasquatch sized kid brother out the kitchen door onto the enclosed side porch.
"Yes hospital. Your arms are shredded, you're leaking like a sieve and you're going into shock. We're letting the professionals handle this," Dean replied. 'No matter how much I want to drive in the opposite direction.'
"Don' let 'em pu' me 'n psy…psyc…nut h'se. Sc'rd."
Opening the passenger side door, he gently laid Sam down onto the backseat of the Impala. "I won't let them put you in the psych ward Sammy," Dean assured him pulling the younger man's knees up and crossing injured arms over his chest, "put pressure on your arms dude," hazel eyes barely opened when he tucked a jacket around a shivering body.
"Stay awake Sam. You hear me? You stay awake."
"You're not sticking my brother in the psych ward!"
"Your brother almost succeeded in killing himself! His blood pressure barely registered on our monitors when he first arrived." Dr. Shen Quan tried to keep his voice down and not be argumentative but the tall man's pigheadedness brought out his temper in the worst way. "Mister Campbell can't you see? This is a serious call for help! Sam cut himself so badly he might have impaired the use of his hands."
"And I told you he was tortured!" Dean retorted. "Are you blind as well as deaf? Didn't you see the bloody ropes and burns around his wrists or the bruising around his ankles?" The younger man stepped right into the doctor's personal space. "Or are you seriously saying Sam stabbed himself in the side, cut his arms open then tied himself down?"
"Mister Campbell, I know you don't want to believe your brother is so desperate to die he would try…"
"You DON'T know me," he said pointedly, "and you sure as hell DON'T know my kid brother. That god-damn half-brother of ours and his psychotic mother did this to him. All YOU need to do is get him patched up and topped off." He poked a finger into the man's chest, "if you come near him with restraints or I hear you say anything; anything at all about a psych consult to Sam…you will regret it." Giving the doctor one last -try anything and I will end you messily- glare Dean turned around and stalked back to Sam's room, ignoring the frightened glances of patients, their families and hospital staff.
Since he'd already reported Sam Campbell's suspected suicide attempt to the Psychiatric Department, Quan knew the older brother was going to cause trouble. He shook his head as he walked towards the break room for a well-deserved cup of lethally strong coffee. Dean was so deep in denial, as evidenced by that whopper of a story; he couldn't see the forest for the trees. As for Sam, he shook his head, it had been a long time since he'd seen anyone that young so intent on killing themselves. Hospital security was going to be in for an very interesting day.
Still fuming, Dean walked into his brother's room. Sam was still pretty much out of it from the blood loss, anesthesia and pain meds. "Thirty-four percent," he muttered, shaking his head; he still couldn't get his brain wrapped around the volume of blood Sam had lost. Looking at the IVs of blood and clear fluids affixed to veins in Sam's neck and thigh, reminded him of how much blood Sam had lost at the house and in the backseat of the car and how mad he was with himself for allowing the ghouls to get so close to the kid.
He sat down and rubbed his eyes, the anger he felt towards Sam ate at his stomach - the lying, the unexplained disappearances, the secrets and lastly going against Dad's wishes by telling Adam about the family business. Okay, so Adam was actually a ghoul, but still. -What makes Adam so special?- Sam had asked. He was one of us Sammy, our lost baby brother.
A low groan pulled his attention back to the pale, dark haired man lying in the bed. "Sammy?"
"Right here buddy. How you feelin'?"
Sam blinked and slowly looked around the room his eyes lingering on the IV bags before shifting over to Dean. "Tired…numb." He face contorted slightly when he adjusted his sprained ankle. "What's the word of the day?" he quietly inquired.
He nodded then lifted his head, staring at the bandages extending from the palm of his hands to his elbows. "They're still here," he sighed, head falling back against the pillow.
"What? Your arms or the cuts?"
"My arms in general. I was hoping this was all a freaky dream."
"Been there, done that…"
"Got the t-shirt," they said in unison, laughing. Suddenly Sam made a strange sound, grimaced and pressed an elbow against his bandaged side.
"Sam?" Dean jumped up and placed a hand on his brother's trembling shoulder, "what's wrong?"
Tears in his eyes Sam replied, "hurts to laugh," before shifting and gingerly taking a deep breath.
"Do you need the nurse?"
"No, no, I'm fine." He relaxed back against the mattress and yawned, "so when can I get out of here?"
Anger flooded through Dean again, "I don't know but the sooner the better."
Startled by Dean's vehemence, Sam stared at him, "what's wrong? Dean, what happened?"
"That damn doctor," Dean turned and started to pace the room.
He gestured towards the door, "Doctor Quan wants to lock you up in the psych ward and place you on a suicide watch! He said that," he clenched and unclenched his hands, "he said your 'suicide attempt' was a cry for help. That you're so desperate to die you'll try again."
Sam lifted a bandaged arm and moved his fingers slightly. Wondering how long it would be before he was tied down…scratch that, not PC enough…restrained for my own protection, he asked, "what did you tell him?"
"'Tell him?' I told him he was off his rocker if he thought you'd ever try to kill yourself."
"No I mean, did you tell him what happened to me."
"Oh. I told him a psychotic Kate and Adam tortured you."
"The truth huh?"
"Up to a point."
"Okay," he glanced up at the ceiling before kicking off the bedclothes. "You're going to have to pull the IVs Dean," Sam pivoted, grunting as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and held out an arm, "help me up."
Dean reached out, grabbing his brother's upper arms, "what in the hell are you doing?" he demanded.
"I'm getting out of here." Swallowing a groan of pain while being pulled upright, he closed his eyes when the room started to spin and black spots crossed his vision. Sam pressed his forehead against his brother's shoulder, "don' wan'…" his body went slack and he fell heavily against the older man. Staggering slightly, Dean gently laid Sam back down onto the bed.
"What are you doing?" a male voice yelled out.
Not even bothering to turn around Dean sarcastically answered, "what's it look like? I'm trying to get a passed out Sasquatch back into bed." A light haired man dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat rushed over to the other side of Sam's bed, helping Dean straighten out limbs, and tangled IV lines. "Thanks. Now who the hell are you?"
"Doctor Egon Thomassen, Psychiatric Resident," he held his hand out to Dean.
"Get away from my brother!" growled Dean.
Dr. Thomassen put his hands up and tried to look harmless, "Mister Campbell I need to…"
"I said stay away from my kid brother." Dean got into the doctor's personal space and started walking forwards forcing the man to move back towards the doorway. "I told that other doctor my brother was to be left alone. He DID not try to kill himself and you people are NOT putting him in the psych ward!"
Dr. Thomassen stopped and stood his ground. "Mister Campbell…Dean, if you don't calm down I will be forced to call Security and have you escorted from these premises. When, not if, but when you are caught sneaking back in, you will be handed over to the police and charged with trespassing. While you cool your heels in jail, your brother will be in the psych ward under a suicide watch. Sam's obviously in a weakened condition, do you really want to put him through more stress?" Dr. Thomassen waited for his words to sink in before continuing, "it's hospital policy to have all suspected suicides evaluated by the Psychiatric Department, your brother's attending had no choice, he had to report it. Dean, my job is to evaluate Sam's mental state, that's all. We just want to make sure he'll not harm himself further," he held up his hand when Dean started to sputter, "if he did so in the first place. Alright?"
"Fine," he spat, "but if Sammy doesn't want to talk to you, that's it…end of story. He gets topped off and we leave, no repercussions."
"That's all I ask. Now let's get a nurse in here to check his IVs," he pressed the nurse call button, "I'll schedule Sam's evaluation for two o'clock this afternoon. Here's my card. Call me if you or Sam have any questions okay?" Getting an affirmative nod from Dean, he informed the arriving nurse what had transpired then left the room.