Ages, Dean 24.4, Supernatural, R-ish
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Ages, Dean 24.4( Click here for all chapters in order)
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, John, OFCs (overall story includes Sam/Dean, Dean/John and Dean/OFC)
Rating: R (thematic reasons)
Word Count: 3371
Summary: AU - Dean's POV. Dean wakes up in the hospital, and discovers that he's lost an entire year.
A/Ns & Warnings: Overall this is story is very dark stuff. This particular installment continues that trend.
When he woke up, he knew instinctively that months had passed since he was last aware, but had no idea how much. He knew the flat metallic taste in his mouth, knew the tiny room with no windows. He groaned and rubbed hands over his face.
He wasn’t in restraints, so that was something. He took a deep breath and tried to remember. The blackout had been big. Dean couldn’t remember anything past…past Sam and Dad and Christmas. He could feel that there was…more…that this wasn’t a day or two.
There were flashes…Sam, Kaitlyn…he’d been sick…or something. It made his head hurt. He sat up slowly, watching the room around him. There was an IV in his arm. He swung his legs down on the side of the bed where the IV stand was and stood. His legs were weak, but they held. He shuffled to the door, only to find it locked.
Okay. That meant he was in lock down at the psych ward. Had to have been pretty drugged, if he wasn’t restrained. Was probably still being drugged. He looked up at the IV. Beside the bed and the IV there wasn’t much in the room. But at least it wasn’t padded and he wasn’t in restraints…and he was thinking…somewhat clearly.
He didn’t know what that added up to. He didn’t know what he’d done or why he was back here…but someone would show up soon. The IV was nearly empty. So Dean did the only thing he could. He went back to the bed and sat down to wait.
It was while he was there, waiting, that he noticed his wedding band was missing. He stared at his hand for a long time. They always took everything…but he’d never been without it. It bothered him.
He tried to picture Kaitlyn, long dark hair over one shoulder, sparkling eyes…then her eyes dulled and faded and there was blood…Dean shook and swallowed. The door opened and a nurse came in, an IV bag in her hand. She looked startled to see Dean sitting up. “Oh…I…I’ll be back.”
Dean waved as she closed the door behind her, his smile lost to the metal. It didn’t take long for her to come back, Dr. MacAfferty in tow.
“Well, Dean. How nice to see you awake.” She seemed concerned…confused.
“Hey Doc.” Dean smiled. Somehow her confusion was amusing to him. “I…don’t suppose you could fill me in on what happened this time?”
She crossed her arms and stared at him while the nurse changed his IV. “You are a very lucky young man, you know that?”
“Actually, no. I don’t know. I don’t remember. Is Sam okay? And Kaitlyn? When can I see them?”
“Settle down Dean. One thing at a time.” She waited until the nurse left the room. “Tell me what’s the last thing you remember?”
Dean chewed on his lower lip for a minute, thinking about it. “Sam and I brought Dad home from the ER Christmas morning…and Kaitlyn made breakfast…and…” He froze, remembering laying on the couch, opening a present early…”I’m going to be a father.”
She shook her head and came a little closer, her face softening. “Okay, Dean…I need you to stay calm.”
“I’m very calm. In fact, I actually feel pretty good, considering. I don’t know what drugs you’ve got me on, but I feel really good.”
She rested a hand on his knee. “You’re missing a lot of time, Dean. A lot of time.”
Dean frowned at her. “How much is a lot?”
“More than a year.” She was watching him closely.
He shook his head. That couldn’t be right. He’d never lost that much time. A couple of days, a week sometimes. “No…no.”
“Dean, your wife had a son. His name is Daniel.”
“Daniel?” Dean tried to breath through the panic rising in his stomach. “I don’t understand.”
“Dean, I really need you to calm down.”
“Calm? You want me to be calm?” He shook his head. “You tell me that I’m missing a whole year…that I have a son…and tell me to be calm?”
His head hurt. The door slammed closed and Dr. MacAfferty jumped. “Dean. I will sedate you if I have to.”
“Tell me what’s going on!”
“Okay…relax. I’ll tell you…but you have to calm down.”
Dean took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m calm…as calm as I’m going to get.”
“Okay…do you remember back when the headaches first started, the spot on your brain?”
Dean nodded. He’d had tests run every year since. “It went away.”
She nodded. “It’s back. It’s back, and it’s bigger.”
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “We don’t know. Your brain chemistry has been altered. We’re having trouble finding a medication that can handle it.”
“It?”
“Your…nightmares, visions…your ranting and raving about demons. When you first came in, you were catatonic. The only thing you would say was Sam’s name. Then you started getting violent and the nightmares came. You screamed all night and during the day you’d sit staring at nothing, telling anyone and everyone there were demons in them.”
“How long?”
“You came in 3 months ago.”
“Kaitlyn?”
“I think you’ve had enough for right now Dean. Let’s get you back to bed, get you something to help you rest.”
“I don’t want to rest. I want my wife and my brother.”
She wouldn’t look at him and actually took a step away. “What? Where are they? Tell me!”
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you, Dean.”
“Tell me.”
“Kaitlyn and Sam…they’re both…dead.”
Dead.
Dead.
It echoed in his head and punched a hole in his gut. He collapsed onto the floor, pulling the IV with him, screaming silently into the cold tile. The bed behind him was shaking and the door rattled, then something pricked his arm and slowly darkness settled over him.
He dreamed of a street of blood. He dreamed of black eyed people slitting throats. He dreamed of earthquakes that dropped entire houses into the earth. He dreamed of his father, clawing his way up out of hell. He dreamed of Kaitlyn saying goodbye and asking Sam to look after him.
He woke to a dark room and restraints. He breathed through the initial panic, fighting down a wave of nausea that he wasn’t sure had more to do with the drugs than the idea that his family was gone. Sam. Sam.
He could almost imagine memories within the blackout. Memories of Sam…Sam taking care of him, Sam holding his hand…which didn’t make any sense at all. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to the dark…back to the deep black of a drug induced sleep where he didn’t have to think about being alone…being lost without the two anchors that had kept him safe.
Maybe if he just tried.
Demons.
When he closed his eyes he could see them. Not like the ones he was used to seeing, not the strange shift in facial features and the solid black eyes…but demons in their natural state, corporeal monsters with red-black skin like armor…horrific faces and yellow-gold eyes.
He opened his eyes again. Couldn’t face those images…those unreal, horrific faces. What he saw when he opened them was worse. They were everywhere. Just…not quite visible. He knew they were there though. “What do you want with me?”
“They are trying to decide if you should be allowed to live.”
The voice was half in his head, half a whisper. Dean turned his head to find the source and got the sense of wings beside his bed. “The drugs they have filled you with have taken your memory, but you know me.”
“Reuel.” Dean breathed the name, disbelieving…the name came up out of the black space, almost easily.
“I am.”
“What…what do you mean?”
“You are an abomination, you are neither human nor angel nor demon. You are not pure. It is unclear what should now be done with you, since you have fulfilled your purpose. They were content to leave you while you remained unaware.”
Dean squeezed his eyes closed. His head was starting to hurt again. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and your brother ended a war before it could destroy the world.”
“Sam.”
“And if you are an abomination, your brother is even more so. You, at least, were within his plan.”
“Who’s plan?” Dean growled in frustration. “No, you know what? Fuck you. I’m not in the mood for cryptic bullshit from something that isn’t even there. Whatever you are, go the hell away.” He pulled on the restraints. They didn’t budge. For some reason he really wanted to punch that voice.
He got the impression of a chuckle. “That impatience hasn’t changed. Dean. I am not here to please you or to save you. Only you can do that now. I came only to offer you the chance to understand what lies ahead.”
“I’m listening. I’m completely delusional, but I’m listening.”
“You must, if you are to survive, leave this place. Before they break you. Before they make you the next home for a demon of the higher order.”
“Yeah. Right. Notice the restraints and the locked door.”
“If you remain, they will find a way. If they do, we will be forced to kill you in order to kill it. I must go now. You will not see me again, Dean.”
“Good. Didn’t want to see you now.”
The whole room seemed to shimmer and Dean was alone. At least until there was a knock on the door to warn him someone was coming in. “Hello Dean.”
Dean closed his eyes and looked away. “Dr. MacAfferty. Are these really necessary?”
“You were very violent Dean.”
“I want out.”
“I’m sure you do.” But what you want is irrelevant at this point. “The courts have committed you to our care indefinitely.” You go nowhere without me deciding you should.
Dean made a face and turned his head. “Finally got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
“What is that supposed to mean, Dean?”
He shook his head, because he wasn’t entirely sure. “Nothing. I’m just…irritated.”
“I imagine this must be difficult. I am sorry.”
“I…I need Sam.” He let the pain of that loss color his voice, make him sound more vulnerable than he really was. She stepped closer.
“Who were you talking to before I came in Dean?”
“Myself.”
“Not a demon or an angel?”
Dean frowned at her. “Do you see any demons or angels, doc? I was alone in the room, who else would I be talking to?”
She smiled. “Okay. I’ll let that go for now. We put you on some new meds. How are you feeling?”
“Still can’t remember shit.” Dean knew he should be playing this cooler, shouldn’t let her rile him…but fuck he was angry and alone and threatened.
“Not what I asked.”
He curled his lip. “Okay, fine. I feel like I’m on new meds. Nausea, headache…a little slow on the uptake. It’s a pretty heavy cocktail.”
She nodded and moved to check the IV. “Most people wouldn’t be functional on these dosages. You, on the other hand keep waking up when you should be nearly comatose.”
“Trying to keep me asleep, doc?” Dean turned to look at her now. Really look at her. Her features shifted just a little.
“I’m just trying to help you, Dean. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t see all the signs…her eyes stayed their normal color, her skin was pale. He took a deep breath to try to stay calm.
“Are we adding me to your paranoia?” She crossed her arms. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then take me off the drugs.”
She shook her head. “No Dean, that’s what caused this mess in the first place. You went off the meds. It didn’t take long for you to have a psychotic break. Kaitlyn’s dying pushed you over the edge.”
Dean stopped at Kaitlyn’s name. “What happened?”
“She was hit by a car.”
“And Sam?”
She squinted at him. “They found you with him, after the earthquake. You were both covered in blood. He wasn’t breathing. No one but you knows for sure,.”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t remember anything.”
“The police think you did it. That you killed him.”
He felt himself pale, felt the blood drain from his face and his hands shook in their leather prisons. “No. I couldn’t…wouldn’t…” He wanted to look at her…look into her…know if she was lying…but he couldn’t make himself.
“Not on purpose, no. But it would explain your shut down. If he tried to stop you from doing something and you hurt him.”
Dean shook his head. “No. I would know. I would remember.”
“Would you?” She squinted at him. “I want you to think about that. I’ll be back later. I have other patients to see.” None of whom have half your power
“What power?” Dean asked, and she turned suddenly.
“I didn’t say anything about power.”
“I heard you.”
Maybe Azre is right. Time to cut our losses.
“Who is Azre?”
“Dean, I’m going to have someone come in with something to help you sleep, okay?”
“I don’t want to sleep, I want to know what’s going on.” Just need to give him a higher dose…keep him under until everything is ready…keep him from realizing how much he can do.
Dean looked away from her, looked at his restrained hand, anywhere but the expression on her face. He had to get her out of the room. Had to find a way out. “Yeah…okay…sleep is good.”
He waited until the door closed behind her before he started panting and shaking. He stared at the restraint and was only a little surprised when it started moving. It took some time and concentration, but he got it open, then reached for the other one with his freed hand.
The door opened and one of the male nurses came in. Dean smiled for him, hands settled in the restraints, casually covered with a blanket…watched him push the needle into the IV…said “Thank you,” as he walked away. As soon as the door closed, he pulled the IV needle out of his arm, hoping he hadn’t gotten too much of the drug into him.
Not that he knew what he was doing. He was in a locked psych ward. Even if he got out of the room, he had no where to go. Even if he got out of the ward…the hospital…with Kaitlyn and Sam gone…what did he have left?
He made his way to the door. It was locked, but as he stared at it, he could hear it…feel it. The door knob turned in his hand and he peered out into the hall. He was in an isolation room. That could work to his advantage. He could just make out the clock on the wall beside the nurse’s station. Soon they would begin the delicate dance that was afternoon meds. He could already see some of the patients starting to mill about.
Dean checked the other direction. There was a facilities closet. He could hide there. Maybe find a set of the coveralls the maintenance workers wore. He slipped into the hallway, then stopped. The smell of sulfur was overwhelming.
Before he could stop himself he was standing in the hallway whispering in Latin. He shook as the words ripped through him from some forgotten part of him and formed a nearly glowing mist that floated toward patients and orderlies as they lined up for meds. As it touched the closest, his head fell backward and its mouth fell open and black, inky smoke bellowed out of him.
Dean only watched for a minute as one by one they all did the same. People collapsed and ran and screamed and it was so familiar…so…but he didn’t have time, if he was going to use the chaos to his advantage, he raced for the end of the hall, yelling to the guards at the locked gate that something was very wrong.
They went barreling past him and he had a few minutes free to manage the lock…then destroy it behind them. It would take welding torches to free the ward. He smiled, pleased with himself. He would have to find clothes though…and soon.
He managed to get down two floors. There was a doctor’s lounge there. He remembered from when…when…He cussed as the memory slipped away. All he had to do was hope it was empty and that someone was his size. From there…he just didn’t know. He had to get out of the hospital. Out of town. If the courts had ordered him committed, they would hunt him down.
He found the lounge and eased his way inside. The room was empty, all but a young doctor asleep on the couch on the far side of the room. Dean moved so that there were lockers between him and the couch. The first couple of lockers he opened obviously belonged to women. The fourth one apparently belonged to someone taller than Sam. On the sixth try he found jeans that weren’t too short on him and a sport’s jacket that would hide the hospital tee…mostly. No clean socks, but a pair of running shoes.
Dean dressed and came around the lockers, snapping off the wrist band that declared him a patient and sticking it in his pocket. The young doctor opened one eye, nodded and rolled over. Can’t you see I’m sleeping here, keep it down.
He could do this. He could just walk out the front door. He grabbed an apple off the table and headed out into the hall. He figured it was safest to walk out the ER. Symbolic too.
Get out of the way…morons…I work with morons. Dean turned to find a young woman sitting astride a gurney, straddled over a man’s chest, pushing insistently against him. It was the man’s face that stopped him.
“Dad?” Dean stepped back, out of the way. The woman looked at him briefly, then back down to his father. He was beat to hell, what he could see of him…gashes over his shoulders and on his face and under all the blood and dirt, his skin was ghostly white…as if it hadn’t seen the sun in a year.
He followed as the wheeled him into a room…stood helpless outside it as they brought in the crash cart. He heard someone shouting clear and people stood back. All he could see of his father’s body was his feet, and they jerked, then settled. Dean’s eyes flitted to the heart monitor and his own heart stalled as he waited…then there was a blip…and another. “Got him. Let’s start assessing the damage.”
There was something very familiar in the air…not quite a smell…more of a presence. He turned slowly, his eyes widening. He shook his head. Dean?
He nearly fell as he cleared the seats of the waiting room, long legs flying, flailing. Dean cleared his throat. “Sam?” He shook his head again. “She said…she told me…”
His head was swimming, pounding waves against his temples. “Sammy?”
Then Sam was there, holding him, kissing him, dragging him away from the door. “It’s okay Dean. I’m here.” Sam got him into a chair and knelt in front of him. “My god Dean…MacAfferty told me you were dead. She said you killed yourself.”
Dean closed his eyes and grabbed Sam’s hands. “She told me you were dead. That you and Kaitlyn were dead. I believed her.”
Sam pressed kisses into Dean’s fingers. “God…Dean…I’ve never felt so alone.” He looked up suddenly. Can’t stay here.
“I have a little time.” Dean said, squeezing his brother’s hands. “I locked down the ward when I got out. They’ll have to sort it out, before they come looking.”
Sam shook his head. “As soon as they see Dad’s name in the system, they’ll come here.”
“Dad! What happened?”
Sam’s face was concerned, his forehead wrinkled. “How much do you remember?”
Dean scowled. “Not much…it’s like…a whole year is gone.”
Sam nodded. “There’s no way to coddle this. Dad just crawled his way out of hell. Literally.”
Title: Ages, Dean 24.4( Click here for all chapters in order)
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, John, OFCs (overall story includes Sam/Dean, Dean/John and Dean/OFC)
Rating: R (thematic reasons)
Word Count: 3371
Summary: AU - Dean's POV. Dean wakes up in the hospital, and discovers that he's lost an entire year.
A/Ns & Warnings: Overall this is story is very dark stuff. This particular installment continues that trend.
When he woke up, he knew instinctively that months had passed since he was last aware, but had no idea how much. He knew the flat metallic taste in his mouth, knew the tiny room with no windows. He groaned and rubbed hands over his face.
He wasn’t in restraints, so that was something. He took a deep breath and tried to remember. The blackout had been big. Dean couldn’t remember anything past…past Sam and Dad and Christmas. He could feel that there was…more…that this wasn’t a day or two.
There were flashes…Sam, Kaitlyn…he’d been sick…or something. It made his head hurt. He sat up slowly, watching the room around him. There was an IV in his arm. He swung his legs down on the side of the bed where the IV stand was and stood. His legs were weak, but they held. He shuffled to the door, only to find it locked.
Okay. That meant he was in lock down at the psych ward. Had to have been pretty drugged, if he wasn’t restrained. Was probably still being drugged. He looked up at the IV. Beside the bed and the IV there wasn’t much in the room. But at least it wasn’t padded and he wasn’t in restraints…and he was thinking…somewhat clearly.
He didn’t know what that added up to. He didn’t know what he’d done or why he was back here…but someone would show up soon. The IV was nearly empty. So Dean did the only thing he could. He went back to the bed and sat down to wait.
It was while he was there, waiting, that he noticed his wedding band was missing. He stared at his hand for a long time. They always took everything…but he’d never been without it. It bothered him.
He tried to picture Kaitlyn, long dark hair over one shoulder, sparkling eyes…then her eyes dulled and faded and there was blood…Dean shook and swallowed. The door opened and a nurse came in, an IV bag in her hand. She looked startled to see Dean sitting up. “Oh…I…I’ll be back.”
Dean waved as she closed the door behind her, his smile lost to the metal. It didn’t take long for her to come back, Dr. MacAfferty in tow.
“Well, Dean. How nice to see you awake.” She seemed concerned…confused.
“Hey Doc.” Dean smiled. Somehow her confusion was amusing to him. “I…don’t suppose you could fill me in on what happened this time?”
She crossed her arms and stared at him while the nurse changed his IV. “You are a very lucky young man, you know that?”
“Actually, no. I don’t know. I don’t remember. Is Sam okay? And Kaitlyn? When can I see them?”
“Settle down Dean. One thing at a time.” She waited until the nurse left the room. “Tell me what’s the last thing you remember?”
Dean chewed on his lower lip for a minute, thinking about it. “Sam and I brought Dad home from the ER Christmas morning…and Kaitlyn made breakfast…and…” He froze, remembering laying on the couch, opening a present early…”I’m going to be a father.”
She shook her head and came a little closer, her face softening. “Okay, Dean…I need you to stay calm.”
“I’m very calm. In fact, I actually feel pretty good, considering. I don’t know what drugs you’ve got me on, but I feel really good.”
She rested a hand on his knee. “You’re missing a lot of time, Dean. A lot of time.”
Dean frowned at her. “How much is a lot?”
“More than a year.” She was watching him closely.
He shook his head. That couldn’t be right. He’d never lost that much time. A couple of days, a week sometimes. “No…no.”
“Dean, your wife had a son. His name is Daniel.”
“Daniel?” Dean tried to breath through the panic rising in his stomach. “I don’t understand.”
“Dean, I really need you to calm down.”
“Calm? You want me to be calm?” He shook his head. “You tell me that I’m missing a whole year…that I have a son…and tell me to be calm?”
His head hurt. The door slammed closed and Dr. MacAfferty jumped. “Dean. I will sedate you if I have to.”
“Tell me what’s going on!”
“Okay…relax. I’ll tell you…but you have to calm down.”
Dean took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m calm…as calm as I’m going to get.”
“Okay…do you remember back when the headaches first started, the spot on your brain?”
Dean nodded. He’d had tests run every year since. “It went away.”
She nodded. “It’s back. It’s back, and it’s bigger.”
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “We don’t know. Your brain chemistry has been altered. We’re having trouble finding a medication that can handle it.”
“It?”
“Your…nightmares, visions…your ranting and raving about demons. When you first came in, you were catatonic. The only thing you would say was Sam’s name. Then you started getting violent and the nightmares came. You screamed all night and during the day you’d sit staring at nothing, telling anyone and everyone there were demons in them.”
“How long?”
“You came in 3 months ago.”
“Kaitlyn?”
“I think you’ve had enough for right now Dean. Let’s get you back to bed, get you something to help you rest.”
“I don’t want to rest. I want my wife and my brother.”
She wouldn’t look at him and actually took a step away. “What? Where are they? Tell me!”
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you, Dean.”
“Tell me.”
“Kaitlyn and Sam…they’re both…dead.”
Dead.
Dead.
It echoed in his head and punched a hole in his gut. He collapsed onto the floor, pulling the IV with him, screaming silently into the cold tile. The bed behind him was shaking and the door rattled, then something pricked his arm and slowly darkness settled over him.
He dreamed of a street of blood. He dreamed of black eyed people slitting throats. He dreamed of earthquakes that dropped entire houses into the earth. He dreamed of his father, clawing his way up out of hell. He dreamed of Kaitlyn saying goodbye and asking Sam to look after him.
He woke to a dark room and restraints. He breathed through the initial panic, fighting down a wave of nausea that he wasn’t sure had more to do with the drugs than the idea that his family was gone. Sam. Sam.
He could almost imagine memories within the blackout. Memories of Sam…Sam taking care of him, Sam holding his hand…which didn’t make any sense at all. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to the dark…back to the deep black of a drug induced sleep where he didn’t have to think about being alone…being lost without the two anchors that had kept him safe.
Maybe if he just tried.
Demons.
When he closed his eyes he could see them. Not like the ones he was used to seeing, not the strange shift in facial features and the solid black eyes…but demons in their natural state, corporeal monsters with red-black skin like armor…horrific faces and yellow-gold eyes.
He opened his eyes again. Couldn’t face those images…those unreal, horrific faces. What he saw when he opened them was worse. They were everywhere. Just…not quite visible. He knew they were there though. “What do you want with me?”
“They are trying to decide if you should be allowed to live.”
The voice was half in his head, half a whisper. Dean turned his head to find the source and got the sense of wings beside his bed. “The drugs they have filled you with have taken your memory, but you know me.”
“Reuel.” Dean breathed the name, disbelieving…the name came up out of the black space, almost easily.
“I am.”
“What…what do you mean?”
“You are an abomination, you are neither human nor angel nor demon. You are not pure. It is unclear what should now be done with you, since you have fulfilled your purpose. They were content to leave you while you remained unaware.”
Dean squeezed his eyes closed. His head was starting to hurt again. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and your brother ended a war before it could destroy the world.”
“Sam.”
“And if you are an abomination, your brother is even more so. You, at least, were within his plan.”
“Who’s plan?” Dean growled in frustration. “No, you know what? Fuck you. I’m not in the mood for cryptic bullshit from something that isn’t even there. Whatever you are, go the hell away.” He pulled on the restraints. They didn’t budge. For some reason he really wanted to punch that voice.
He got the impression of a chuckle. “That impatience hasn’t changed. Dean. I am not here to please you or to save you. Only you can do that now. I came only to offer you the chance to understand what lies ahead.”
“I’m listening. I’m completely delusional, but I’m listening.”
“You must, if you are to survive, leave this place. Before they break you. Before they make you the next home for a demon of the higher order.”
“Yeah. Right. Notice the restraints and the locked door.”
“If you remain, they will find a way. If they do, we will be forced to kill you in order to kill it. I must go now. You will not see me again, Dean.”
“Good. Didn’t want to see you now.”
The whole room seemed to shimmer and Dean was alone. At least until there was a knock on the door to warn him someone was coming in. “Hello Dean.”
Dean closed his eyes and looked away. “Dr. MacAfferty. Are these really necessary?”
“You were very violent Dean.”
“I want out.”
“I’m sure you do.” But what you want is irrelevant at this point. “The courts have committed you to our care indefinitely.” You go nowhere without me deciding you should.
Dean made a face and turned his head. “Finally got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
“What is that supposed to mean, Dean?”
He shook his head, because he wasn’t entirely sure. “Nothing. I’m just…irritated.”
“I imagine this must be difficult. I am sorry.”
“I…I need Sam.” He let the pain of that loss color his voice, make him sound more vulnerable than he really was. She stepped closer.
“Who were you talking to before I came in Dean?”
“Myself.”
“Not a demon or an angel?”
Dean frowned at her. “Do you see any demons or angels, doc? I was alone in the room, who else would I be talking to?”
She smiled. “Okay. I’ll let that go for now. We put you on some new meds. How are you feeling?”
“Still can’t remember shit.” Dean knew he should be playing this cooler, shouldn’t let her rile him…but fuck he was angry and alone and threatened.
“Not what I asked.”
He curled his lip. “Okay, fine. I feel like I’m on new meds. Nausea, headache…a little slow on the uptake. It’s a pretty heavy cocktail.”
She nodded and moved to check the IV. “Most people wouldn’t be functional on these dosages. You, on the other hand keep waking up when you should be nearly comatose.”
“Trying to keep me asleep, doc?” Dean turned to look at her now. Really look at her. Her features shifted just a little.
“I’m just trying to help you, Dean. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t see all the signs…her eyes stayed their normal color, her skin was pale. He took a deep breath to try to stay calm.
“Are we adding me to your paranoia?” She crossed her arms. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then take me off the drugs.”
She shook her head. “No Dean, that’s what caused this mess in the first place. You went off the meds. It didn’t take long for you to have a psychotic break. Kaitlyn’s dying pushed you over the edge.”
Dean stopped at Kaitlyn’s name. “What happened?”
“She was hit by a car.”
“And Sam?”
She squinted at him. “They found you with him, after the earthquake. You were both covered in blood. He wasn’t breathing. No one but you knows for sure,.”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t remember anything.”
“The police think you did it. That you killed him.”
He felt himself pale, felt the blood drain from his face and his hands shook in their leather prisons. “No. I couldn’t…wouldn’t…” He wanted to look at her…look into her…know if she was lying…but he couldn’t make himself.
“Not on purpose, no. But it would explain your shut down. If he tried to stop you from doing something and you hurt him.”
Dean shook his head. “No. I would know. I would remember.”
“Would you?” She squinted at him. “I want you to think about that. I’ll be back later. I have other patients to see.” None of whom have half your power
“What power?” Dean asked, and she turned suddenly.
“I didn’t say anything about power.”
“I heard you.”
Maybe Azre is right. Time to cut our losses.
“Who is Azre?”
“Dean, I’m going to have someone come in with something to help you sleep, okay?”
“I don’t want to sleep, I want to know what’s going on.” Just need to give him a higher dose…keep him under until everything is ready…keep him from realizing how much he can do.
Dean looked away from her, looked at his restrained hand, anywhere but the expression on her face. He had to get her out of the room. Had to find a way out. “Yeah…okay…sleep is good.”
He waited until the door closed behind her before he started panting and shaking. He stared at the restraint and was only a little surprised when it started moving. It took some time and concentration, but he got it open, then reached for the other one with his freed hand.
The door opened and one of the male nurses came in. Dean smiled for him, hands settled in the restraints, casually covered with a blanket…watched him push the needle into the IV…said “Thank you,” as he walked away. As soon as the door closed, he pulled the IV needle out of his arm, hoping he hadn’t gotten too much of the drug into him.
Not that he knew what he was doing. He was in a locked psych ward. Even if he got out of the room, he had no where to go. Even if he got out of the ward…the hospital…with Kaitlyn and Sam gone…what did he have left?
He made his way to the door. It was locked, but as he stared at it, he could hear it…feel it. The door knob turned in his hand and he peered out into the hall. He was in an isolation room. That could work to his advantage. He could just make out the clock on the wall beside the nurse’s station. Soon they would begin the delicate dance that was afternoon meds. He could already see some of the patients starting to mill about.
Dean checked the other direction. There was a facilities closet. He could hide there. Maybe find a set of the coveralls the maintenance workers wore. He slipped into the hallway, then stopped. The smell of sulfur was overwhelming.
Before he could stop himself he was standing in the hallway whispering in Latin. He shook as the words ripped through him from some forgotten part of him and formed a nearly glowing mist that floated toward patients and orderlies as they lined up for meds. As it touched the closest, his head fell backward and its mouth fell open and black, inky smoke bellowed out of him.
Dean only watched for a minute as one by one they all did the same. People collapsed and ran and screamed and it was so familiar…so…but he didn’t have time, if he was going to use the chaos to his advantage, he raced for the end of the hall, yelling to the guards at the locked gate that something was very wrong.
They went barreling past him and he had a few minutes free to manage the lock…then destroy it behind them. It would take welding torches to free the ward. He smiled, pleased with himself. He would have to find clothes though…and soon.
He managed to get down two floors. There was a doctor’s lounge there. He remembered from when…when…He cussed as the memory slipped away. All he had to do was hope it was empty and that someone was his size. From there…he just didn’t know. He had to get out of the hospital. Out of town. If the courts had ordered him committed, they would hunt him down.
He found the lounge and eased his way inside. The room was empty, all but a young doctor asleep on the couch on the far side of the room. Dean moved so that there were lockers between him and the couch. The first couple of lockers he opened obviously belonged to women. The fourth one apparently belonged to someone taller than Sam. On the sixth try he found jeans that weren’t too short on him and a sport’s jacket that would hide the hospital tee…mostly. No clean socks, but a pair of running shoes.
Dean dressed and came around the lockers, snapping off the wrist band that declared him a patient and sticking it in his pocket. The young doctor opened one eye, nodded and rolled over. Can’t you see I’m sleeping here, keep it down.
He could do this. He could just walk out the front door. He grabbed an apple off the table and headed out into the hall. He figured it was safest to walk out the ER. Symbolic too.
Get out of the way…morons…I work with morons. Dean turned to find a young woman sitting astride a gurney, straddled over a man’s chest, pushing insistently against him. It was the man’s face that stopped him.
“Dad?” Dean stepped back, out of the way. The woman looked at him briefly, then back down to his father. He was beat to hell, what he could see of him…gashes over his shoulders and on his face and under all the blood and dirt, his skin was ghostly white…as if it hadn’t seen the sun in a year.
He followed as the wheeled him into a room…stood helpless outside it as they brought in the crash cart. He heard someone shouting clear and people stood back. All he could see of his father’s body was his feet, and they jerked, then settled. Dean’s eyes flitted to the heart monitor and his own heart stalled as he waited…then there was a blip…and another. “Got him. Let’s start assessing the damage.”
There was something very familiar in the air…not quite a smell…more of a presence. He turned slowly, his eyes widening. He shook his head. Dean?
He nearly fell as he cleared the seats of the waiting room, long legs flying, flailing. Dean cleared his throat. “Sam?” He shook his head again. “She said…she told me…”
His head was swimming, pounding waves against his temples. “Sammy?”
Then Sam was there, holding him, kissing him, dragging him away from the door. “It’s okay Dean. I’m here.” Sam got him into a chair and knelt in front of him. “My god Dean…MacAfferty told me you were dead. She said you killed yourself.”
Dean closed his eyes and grabbed Sam’s hands. “She told me you were dead. That you and Kaitlyn were dead. I believed her.”
Sam pressed kisses into Dean’s fingers. “God…Dean…I’ve never felt so alone.” He looked up suddenly. Can’t stay here.
“I have a little time.” Dean said, squeezing his brother’s hands. “I locked down the ward when I got out. They’ll have to sort it out, before they come looking.”
Sam shook his head. “As soon as they see Dad’s name in the system, they’ll come here.”
“Dad! What happened?”
Sam’s face was concerned, his forehead wrinkled. “How much do you remember?”
Dean scowled. “Not much…it’s like…a whole year is gone.”
Sam nodded. “There’s no way to coddle this. Dad just crawled his way out of hell. Literally.”