Redemption 4/8 part 1
Redemption 4/8
(Arc 1 of a three part series - rehab)
Author: Neonchica (with assistance by co-author Betzz)
Title: Redemption 4/8
Author: Neonchica (and Betzz)
Rating: R
Characters: Sam, Dean
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Anything through season 2 is fair game.
Pictures by neonchica and Angela
Summary: Death was always an option. This - this was not. Dean has been rendered permanantly disabled by one of his enemies. Now, quadriplegic and ventilator dependant, Dean and Sam must work hard to overcome these new obstacles and learn to accept this new definition of living.
A/N: I need to extend a super extra special thank you this week to Angela who did about half of the pictures when I realized I was leaving town and didn't have time to finish them! They're awesome babe! Thanks so much for your help and the quick turn around on these! You rock. : )
Before Adam’s letter arrived Sam had somehow managed to convince himself that Dean was no longer in danger, that the threat was gone because Adam had succeeded in what he’d set out to do. The letter opens his eyes, heightens his awareness. Suddenly, Sam finds himself on the defensive, once again seeking out information and forcing himself to hear details that he hadn’t taken the time to hear before.
It’s not until he starts doing this that he realizes just how much of his attention has been focused solely on Dean and his recovery; not nearly enough on the surrounding details.
It’s surprisingly easy to obtain the information he needs; embarrassingly easy, actually. Turns out Adam and Lori Ann had managed to escape police custody nearly two weeks ago, slipped free during a transfer from one facility to another. Because of Adam’s circumstances, and the fact that the state didn’t want to pay for 24 hour nursing care, they had allowed Lori Ann complete access to Adam during their incarceration. And apparently that allowed them plenty of time to plot their escape.
The police have no leads, have no idea how it is that an entire transport van can just disappear, driver, guards and all. But Sam’s only question is how it is that he’s gone this long without knowing about the escape. How could he have been so distant that he didn’t know this? And why didn’t anyone from the police station notify him?
As to how they’d made their escape, Sam has his suspicions; figures that after the events of the past few days the answer is as obvious as the nose on his face. Adam is back to his old tricks, creating more zombons to suit his needs. The police escort, the nurse from yesterday, who knows who else. And somehow he’s managed to refine his technique so that the new zombons are walking, talking, functioning members of society. No more of this separation and distance present in Milla and the nurses during Dean’s captivity.
The whole thing scares the ever-loving shit out of Sam, has him hovering over top of Dean non-stop, refusing to leave even during the normally obligatory time frame when Jeanette returns to finish the morning routine. And he can see in Dean’s eyes that this time he’s glad Sam doesn’t leave. The humiliation of the process is far outweighed by the possibility that another zombon could somehow find its way to Dean. Neither of them is willing to risk the helplessness of the situation.
--
Milla shows up around 11:00 on the day Dean leaves the hospital. She seems awkward, out of place, as though she really isn’t sure what her role is anymore. Sam can see where that must be a problem, to have once been an esteemed surgeon within the very same hospital that Dean is being cared for at, the same hospital that she can no longer practice medicine at.
In a moment of weakness, desperation, she’d shared with Sam the fact that she’s been put on an indefinite leave until she can prove that she’s capable of surgery. But her hands shake now, and time in surgery affects her breathing and her composure, and she’s not sure when or even if she’ll ever be capable of the talents she once had.
For the time being she is merely a civilian, out of place in the room. She doesn’t really belong with the doctors and the nurses filtering into and out of the room as they prepare Dean for his transfer that afternoon. And she doesn’t belong with Sam and Dean, either.
Yet she’s here nonetheless; ready to offer her support in any way that she can, any way that Sam will allow. He’ll need a ride, and she’s got a car. He’ll need information, and she knows how to ask the right questions. For now she stands in the corner, trying to stay out of the way. But later Sam will let her help. For Dean.
At 11:30 the transport team arrives, joins in the flurry of activity to finalize Dean’s preparations. He is bundled in blankets and transferred from the hospital bed to a gurney, tightly secured by straps across his ankles, thighs, chest and shoulders. They switch him from the stationary ventilator in the room to a portable vent, snapping the hose in place through the hole in the c-collar he wears to keep his head steady and placing the portable machine on the gurney between his legs.
Sam is so anxious he barely says two words to Dean throughout this whole ordeal, but he makes sure he stays within his brother’s line of sight at all times, and when everything is ready he finally speaks.
“You good?” Sam asks, dropping a hand to Dean’s cheek for comfort.
Dean blinks once, indicating yes, but the moisture in his eyes is suspicious and Sam wonders if there is more to the blink than meets the eye.
“K, well they won’t let me ride in the van with you. But Milla is giving me a ride to the rehab center. We’ll be right behind you, okay? I’ve got your back.”
Dean blinks once again, more moisture welling up and he blinks several more times to hold back the tears. ‘You checked?’ Dean mouths, suddenly desperate.
Immediately Sam knows what Dean is thinking. He’s on top of his game this time, ready with an answer and certain of its truth. “I’ve been watching. You’ve got a good team,” he says cryptically, knowing Dean will understand the meaning. “Twenty minutes, okay bro? Twenty minutes and we’re back together. I’m right behind you.”
Pursing his lips Dean nods minutely and closes his eyes, the meaning clear. He’ll hold out until they’re back together again.
Sam forces out a smile and pats Dean on the cheek.
He’s come to realize that his mood, his level of confidence, is directly in correlation with his brother’s. When Sam is upset, so is Dean. So he forces himself to let some reassurance rub off. His gaze lingers on Dean for several seconds, hand cupping his brother’s chin and cheek with one final pat before he pulls away and nods to the transport crew.
“Right behind you,” he says one final time as Dean is pushed from the room, doesn’t even wait until the gurney clears the doorway before he’s looking at Milla with desperation and anxiety in his eyes.
“Can we go?”
---
Sliding into the passenger’s seat of Milla’s practical Ford Fusion, Sam breathes a heavy sigh. He wants nothing less than to be riding over to the rehab hospital with her. He still doesn’t trust her, doesn’t want any more to do with her than he absolutely has to. But the woman has insisted, and moreover, she’s convinced him that having her there as a liaison between the rehab staff and Dean would make everything go altogether more smoothly.
Because it’s for Dean, he’s agreed.
He glances at the clock, shocked to see that it’s already almost half past noon. By his math that means it’s taken close to three hours just to get his brother ready for transport, and that’s not counting the time Jeanette was with him before that. Over the past few weeks he’s become increasingly time conscious, ever aware of the lengths it takes each day to care for his brother. Just one more aspect of Dean’s new life that Sam has come to realize is completely overwhelming.
He sighs heavily and tries to push the thought from his mind, save a worry for another day. Focusing instead on the activity in the ambulance bay, Sam tries to at least put himself in the moment.
The guy driving the transport bus climbs in and shuts the door behind him, starts the ignition with a hearty roar and pulls away from the curb. Milla does the same, following the ambulance into traffic, as Sam takes a deep breath and runs a shaky hand through his hair and down over his neck.
This is it. This is really happening.
Somehow none of the past few weeks has seemed real until just now, watching Dean being loaded into the back of the ambulance, so still and so helpless. His brother’s eyes had been haunted, as though he too was just realizing how real things were.
Milla takes a chance, reaches over and puts a comforting hand on Sam’s leg and squeezes. He jumps a little, contemplates shaking her off, but suddenly finds that he needs the comfort more than he’s realized. In the few days since Dean convinced him to let her help Sam has only just barely been able to tolerate having Milla in the room with them, had to force himself to stomach the shopping trip they’d gone on, and he’s been terrified of this day when Dean is transferred out of the hospital and Sam finds himself in need of another place to sleep. Milla’s house, to be exact. Yet in an unexpected turn of events Sam discovers that it’s not so hard to allow himself to seek solace with this woman.
He offers a hesitant smile, just enough to let her know that he’s okay with the gesture, and she in turn leaves her hand on his leg for a few seconds longer before giving another squeeze of release and returning her hand to the steering wheel.
“I know it’s hard to believe it now, but things will get better in time,” she says, pressing her luck on how far to go.
Sam shrugs, but says nothing, keeping his eyes on the ambulance in front of them while wondering what Dean is thinking right now. Luckily, Milla takes the hint and goes quiet for the duration of the drive, only speaking up again when they actually pull in at New Beginnings and find a place to park.
“We’re here,” she says quietly. Sam doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch. The ambulance is a good thirty feet away, pulled up right in front of the entrance to the building, and Sam watches in a dazed stupor as the transport team animates. All doors open on the bus as people climb from the front and jump into the back to pull Dean’s gurney out. Two men and a woman emerge from the entrance to the rehab center and make a beeline to the crowd, immediately inserting themselves into the action.
For a minute Sam sees nothing, and then the gurney appears and there’s Dean, all bundled up in blankets and strapped down. The portable ventilator is still lying between his legs, hoses snaking back and up to his neck through the hole in the Philadelphia collar. The collection bag just hangs obtrusively off the side of the gurney, half full of pale yellow liquid. Nothing has changed since Dean was loaded in back at the hospital, yet Sam can’t help the sense of shock that overcomes him at the sight.
The wheels drop down as the gurney emerges from the back of the bus, and then someone raises the head up a little so that Dean can see more of what’s going on around him. Sam watches someone lean over his brother for a minute then straighten up and look around the parking lot and back toward the road, shrugging when he turns back to Dean and pats him on the shoulder. Immediately, Sam is aware of what the man is looking for. Who he is looking for. And it’s clear that Milla knows, too.
“Are you going in?” she asks gently. For the second time that day she lays a hand on Sam’s leg, but this time he barely even notices it.
Tears rim his eyes and he blinks them back furiously, digs the heels of his hands into his sockets to try and stop the flow of emotion. “God, I hate this,” Sam says. He sniffles a couple of times, checks his eyes once more, and grabs for the door handle. “Okay, let’s go.”
In an instant Sam is all business again, no sign of the insecurity and emotion that plagued him just seconds before, and he walks a fast path to the front of the hospital where they’re just now pushing Dean through. Out of the corner of his eye Sam catches a glimpse of Milla struggling to keep up with his long legged stride, but he doesn’t slow down. His concern is only for Dean.
He catches up with the group just as they’re leaving the spacious entry hall and turning left down a corridor. Sam sprints to cover the last few yards of distance and comes to the side of the gurney, planting his hand down on Dean’s shoulder as he watches his brother visibly relax.
“D’jyou think I was gonna miss this?” Sam asks, forcing cheerfulness into his voice in an effort to make things seem better than they actually are. He knows if Dean could speak that he’d be making some sort of sarcastic comment about Sam stopping for tampons on the way or some other stupid suggestion to imply that his little brother is a girl. As much as they annoy him, Sam finds he misses those remarks when they’re no longer being spouted at every turn.
For a second, Sam is certain that Dean is glaring at him, eyebrows arched down toward his nose and mouth pursed tightly. Sam backs off just a few inches as he wonders if him not being there immediately has caused his brother to be angry with him again. But just as quickly as the reaction came on it disappears, replaced once more by the insecurity that Sam has been dealing with all week.
Dean bites his lower lip and shakes his head marginally, blinking twice. He says nothing else; just locks his eyes on his brother and allows Sam to be his strength as the gurney is pushed down the hall. Sam squeezes Dean’s shoulder, even though he can’t feel it, and looks away from Dean’s stalwart gaze, scanning the group for recognition.
He recognizes the four members of the transport crew, an EMT, a nurse, a physical therapist, and an occupational therapist that all work at the center. The other woman who met up with the group when they arrived is Tanya Jackson, the director of New Beginnings. He’s met her before, just the other day when Milla brought him for a tour of the facility, and he gives her a slight nod of the head in recognition as he continues his scan of the group. The other two men Sam doesn’t know, but when his eyes fall to them Tanya takes notice and provides introductions.
“Sam, this is Dr. Liteman and Jamie Brand. Dr. Liteman will be overseeing Dean’s medical care while he’s here, and Jamie is the case manager assigned to your brother.” Sam reaches back to shake hands with the two men, but never leaves Dean’s line of sight.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Sam says, though he doesn’t really mean it. He’d rather not be meeting any of these people, would rather that Dean not be in the situation he’s in.
They continue down the hallway, making a right turn halfway down and then another left before they come to a row of doors. Most of the doors are open, and some of the rooms hold patients in various stages of rehabilitation. But Sam doesn’t pay much attention to them at the moment, focusing only on finding out which door they take Dean through. Tanya stops at the fourth door on the right and pushes the half closed door all the way open, pressing her back against it to provide room for the gurney and everyone else to enter.
The room is obviously already lived in, although the other occupant is nowhere to be found. There are two beds on the right wall, both highly technical and obviously expensive, with two nightstands side by side that create a large gap between the beds. The closer bed is made up in dark blue and white striped sheets with a Philadelphia Eagles blanket folded neatly at the foot. On the wall above the bed is a corkboard over-filled with pictures and cards, a big sign over that reading GET WELL SOON DADDY in large, childlike scrawl. More pictures and cards are taped to the wall that makes up one side of the bathroom.
Sam’s heart skips a beat, his chest clenching, as he looks to the other bed, corkboard bare and empty, and wonders if Dean will get any cards. Probably not, seeing as how Dean won’t even let him contact any of their small selection of friends to tell them about what’s happened.
Tanya’s voice breaks into his thoughts, and Sam immediately abandons them to focus on her, needing to soak in as much information as he can. “Dean, we’re going to get you settled in bed and give you some time to rest. Someone will be by soon with lunch for you, and after that we’ll assemble you and the rest of your family and team to discuss what will happen over the next few months. How does that sound?”
Dean mouths ‘fine’ to the administrator, then bites his bottom lip again as he prepares to be transferred into bed. Sam’s noticed he’s been doing that a lot lately, and it really unnerves him how his once brash and confident older brother has taken on such an insecure habit. It’s like the whole world has just been turned upside down on its axis, everything is backwards now and inside out, spinning out of control. Sam just wants to stomp and scream, throw a tantrum in the middle of the room.
Stop the world, I want to get off!
As the team undoes the straps holding Dean onto the gurney and removes the blankets Sam is confronted with more out of the ordinary, more stuff that makes Dean no longer Dean. The rehab hospital insists that its patients be dressed every day, no longer this laying around naked under a sheet that the hospital has been pushing. Problem is, Dean is a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. He’s rugged and brazen and kind of cowboyish. But jeans are impractical for rehab. They’re heavy and bulky and don’t really yield all that much, not to mention the problem with rubs and pressure sores. Underneath the blankets Dean is now dressed from head to toe in a pair of sweatpants and a button-up shirt, tennis shoes that have replaced Dean’s standard steel-toed boots. And seeing his brother all prepped out like some jock on the high-school football team just doesn’t fit with the brother he knows, the brother who would be more likely to salt and burn the school gym than he would participate in organized sports.
It’s just another thing he’ll have to get used to, Sam realizes, another change in their topsy-turvy world.
Part 2 Masterlist