SPN Fic: Take Care of You - Chapter 1
Inspiration for this fic came from a prompt that scullspeare posted a few months ago (I couldn't get it out of my head, even though I'm sure it's been done many, many times before): “canon-based tag to In My Time of Dying: Maybe they’re out there, but I’ve yet to read a tag that fully explores what happens to Sam between the helicopter ride to the hospital and him walking into a comatose Dean’s room. Sam’s injuries were pretty severe and, on top of that, he’d have to face all the questions about the accident, take care of all the paperwork to admit his father and brother to hospital, call in Bobby to pick up the Impala (as referenced in the episode), etc. That’s a lot to handle for anyone, but especially in the wake of the events in Devil’s Trap and given he’s battling a head injury and likely not seeing straight.”
Title: Take Care of You
Rating: PG13 (Gen)
Characters: Sam, Dean, John, Bobby
Disclaimer: Still not mine, just playing.
Words: 1800
Summary: Following the car crash, Sam is air-lifted via helicopter to hospital. Confused, in pain and alone, Sam casts aside his own injuries to find and care for his family. (Sort of a tag to In My Time of Dying).
The Impala rested in a crumpled heap, devoid of life.
Sam was strapped down. Immobile. He felt the stretcher being lifted, his body tilting and his vision wavering.
He craned his neck, trying to look around. Searching for answers. “Tell me if they’re okay.”
A harried face looked down at him. “You have to stay still.”
“Are they even alive?” he yelled.
The rotor blades of the helicopter roared overhead, blocking out any response.
Panic raced through his body. He couldn’t see what was happening. The sound was deafening, screaming in his ears. Wind ripped around his face, pulling at him, trying to tear him apart. He wanted to fight back, but restraints held him firm, trapping him.
The roaring got louder and louder, building to a crescendo. He couldn’t hear. Couldn’t think.
He was tipped, jostled, vertigo hitting him like a sledgehammer.
And he welcomed unconsciousness.
-o-
“Any blurred vision?” The tiny light shone into one eye and then the other, the lids held open with a gentle touch.
“No.” Sam lied.
“Dizziness?”
Sam shook his head.
“Nausea?”
“I’m fine.” Sam shifted restlessly on the narrow hospital bed.
The doctor paused, raising his eyebrows and giving Sam a pointed look.
Sam met the doctor’s eyes, refusing to retract the blatant untruths. He had other concerns. More important ones. “I need to see my brother. My dad. Where are they, do you know where they’ve been taken? Are they alright?”
“Just calm down. One thing at a time. I promise I’ll go and see what’s happening with your family, but first, we need to take care of you.”
Sam wanted to fight. He wanted to grab the doctor by his throat and demand answers. This not knowing, it was killing him. Scenarios raced through his head, each one worse than before. What weren’t they telling him? Fear for his family mounted, pushing aside his own pain as panic started to take over.
His breath quickened and he felt crowded, strangers leaning over him. Voices mingled, unclear and unfamiliar. He felt hands reaching for him, holding, restraining. He twisted, trying to scramble away, desperate now, confused.
Sharp pain hit him with sudden blinding intensity and he gasped, caught off-guard. He sagged against the bed, stilling, trying to escape the agony coursing through his body. Blinding white light pierced through his skull, sending shockwaves through his limbs and ricocheting the pain up another notch.
Hands moved over him. He felt his body being turned, clothes pulled away. He wanted to protest, but his throat felt tight, restricted. Faces peered at him. Whispered words that he couldn’t quite comprehend washed over him. He blinked against the intrusions. Confused. He felt distanced, muddled; his brain too slow to catch up with the activity around him.
He couldn’t fight it now, the dizziness. It was a persistent buzzing in his ears, getting louder, enveloping him.
And he went with it, into the darkness.
-o-
Sam roused to a feminine voice and soft touch.
Confusion caused his eyes to snap open and his breath to quicken.
As he took in his surroundings, memories came flooding back.
His eyes snapped instantly to the chair, vacant beside his bed. A quick scan of the room confirmed that there were no signs of presence from his brother or dad. He was alone.
A calming hand on his arm caught his attention and he drew his gaze up to the nurse standing by his bedside.
Sam’s breath hitched as he forced himself to put voice to the question he was almost too afraid to ask. “Dean, where...”
“You’re in the hospital, hon.” The nurse soothed her hand along his arm. “You were in an accident, remember? Now that you’re finally awake, I’ll go page the doctor.”
Sam reached for the nurse’s arm as she turned to stride away. “No, please. I need to know. My brother and dad. Are they...” Sam swallowed on the final word. Dead? Alive?
The nurse looked at him, her smile placating, not quite reaching her eyes. “I remember that they were brought into the hospital with you, but I’m sorry, I don’t know much more than that. I’ll get the doctor to come in and speak with you, okay? I’m sure he’ll have more information.”
Sam resisted the urge to leap right off the bed and go and seek the answers for himself. He didn’t know where to start though. Frustratingly, he realised that maybe waiting for the doctor was his best chance of getting the information he needed.
The minutes ticked by and Sam tried to curb his impatience. He couldn’t just lie in bed, not knowing. Doing nothing.
He eyed the length of thin plastic tubing running from the IV to his arm. He looked at the bank of monitors, their lights and numbers flashing and changing. For the first time, he took stock of his own position - and he wanted out of this hospital bed NOW.
He edged his fingernail under the piece of tape holding the IV tubing in place. He pulled the tape slowly away from his skin until the tubing was freed. His stomach twisted at the thought of pulling the needle from his arm, but determination won out as he gripped the thin edge between his fingertips and pulled.
Blood swelled from the site immediately. Dropping the IV tubing, Sam clasped his fingers across the tiny incision, applying pressure. The sight of blood on his fingers brought with it memories of Dean. Images of blood coating his brother’s chest, welling between his fingers and coating his hands. Blood everywhere.
He needed to find Dean.
Sitting up took more effort than Sam would have thought. His limbs felt weighed down. His body was heavy with lethargy and a struggle to move. He had a feeling of numbness in his body and wooziness in his head that came with being doped up. They’d obviously given him the good stuff. He shook his head, trying to chase the feeling away. He needed all of his wits about him.
The sound of footsteps halted his escape. He felt like a kid caught cheating on a test as the doctor stared him down.
“You need to stay in bed, lying down and resting.” Sure hands eased his shoulders back towards the pillows.
Sam did not resist. He didn’t have time for arguments. Not yet.
“My brother and dad, they were brought in with me. I need to know how they are.”
With a glance at the pulled IV, the doctor paused before answering. “I wasn’t their attending physician so I’m not privy to all the details. It was pretty much all hands on when the air-vac came in. I know your brother was in critical condition, but they’ve managed to stabilise him. I’ll have his doctor come in to update you on his condition.”
“And my dad?”
“Broken arm and numerous contusions. A minor head injury.”
“I need to see them.” Sam started to push himself up again.
“I understand that, but you were in that accident too.” The doctor halted Sam’s rise with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Let’s see how you’re doing first.”
Sam acquiesced for the moment, slumping against the pillows as the doctor retrieved his chart. He answered the doctor’s questions and cooperated throughout the examination without complaint.
As the doctor reviewed his medical chart and made notes, Sam waited with impatience. This was taking too long. “I want to be discharged.”
The doctor looked up from his notes. “I’ve scheduled a scan and some more tests. Your blood pressure totally bottomed out after you were brought in, and although we’ve managed to stabilise it, the cause warrants further investigation. You’re also sporting a head injury and two broken ribs, not to mention extensive bruising and a laceration that required twenty two stitches to close. I don’t think...”
“Just bring me the paperwork.” Sam wasn’t above pleading. “Please.”
“Right now you’ve got some heavy duty pain relief coursing through your system. You might feel alright now, but as soon as those start wearing off, it’s going to be a completely different ball game. Not to mention the tests I’d like to run to rule out any other injuries you might have sustained. I really can’t stress strongly enough the need for you to lay back, rest, and allow us to carry out the further tests. Your family is in very capable hands and we’re taking the best possible care of them.” The doctor looked at the pulled end of IV tubing again before focusing back on Sam. “The best thing that you can do for them right now is to let us take care of you.”
“I appreciate it, I really do - everything you’re doing for them, for me. But right now, I can’t be here, in this bed, doing nothing. I needI need to be with them, doing something. Anything.” Sam rubbed a weary hand through his hair. “I’m walking out of here, one way or another. So if you can just get me the paperwork, whatever I need to sign.”
“I really can’t advise that. Our policies --”
Sam interrupted the anticipated speech on hospital procedures. “Just bring me something to sign, something to say that I refuse care or further treatment or whatever.”
The doctor sighed. “I can organise that, but won’t you consider at least letting us run a scan and a couple more tests before you leave?”
Sam felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that the kindly doctor was only trying to give him the best possible medical care. “Maybe as an outpatient?”
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
“Thank you.” Sam felt relief that the battle was over. “My clothes?”
“In the cupboard, right there.” The doctor pointed to a tiny one-door wardrobe tucked in the corner. “I’ll send a nurse along to help you.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“I’ll include a note detailing the appointment time for that scan and tests when I send that paperwork along for you to sign.”
Sam nodded, already pushing himself up in the bed.
The doctor started to walk away, before turning back. “Wait for the nurse to come unhook you from the rest of that equipment, alright?” With a shake of his head he continued. “And if you have any problems, anything at all, you come straight back in, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I will.”
Sam watched the doctor walk away.
-o-
tbc...
Go to Chapter 2
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