Cringe Worthy Moments (One-Shot)
Cringe Worthy Moments in the Life of One Adam J Winchester
Author: luvspnl
Fandom: Supernatural (AU, Time Verse)
Warnings: Language and paternal discipline implied. Also, I know next to nothing about medical procedures. Bare with me!
Summary: After paying the consequences for a few days of "Adam time" (otherwise interpreted as running off on his own), Adam is dragged to the hospital to address his illness. Whether he can sit through the exam is not John's problem.
Authors Notes: This takes place in my Time Verse (found Here on livejournal) after The Bee is Praised, during the next installment. I'm still in the plotting (well replotting really) stage for that, but this story doesn't take screen time in the plot, so I can share it separately! [note- Bee and the next story will be Members only for the comm. One shots are usually public. ] Enjoy!!
Adam Winchester stood looking out the window in the General Medical Hospital Emergency Waiting Room. (Don't get him started on the oxymoron of an emergency waiting room.)
Not that he was in need of emergency services. The alternative was, however, a doctors visit. With, like, an appointment. Adam didn't even have to ask his dad to know waiting was not going to be an option.
Other than waiting room waiting. Of course.
His father, John Winchester, was currently a good five or so feet behind him. He was sitting in the plastic buckets that cringed under the six foot two broad frame. Adam could definitely attest to his father not getting any frailty in his "old age". Him and his butt both.
He cringed now just thinking about it.
And then he took a big boy breath, hoping that he wouldn't have to rush to the bathroom like a month-in mother to be.
John appeared suddenly beside him then, green bottle of half full ginger ale thrust into his hand.
Adam hated ginger ale. But he wasn't in any position to question it. He nodded his thanks, chalked his dad's ninja and psychic abilities to that which is John Winchester.
Teeny tiny sip. Adam still cringed at the taste, but he hoped it was enough to work.
"Drink it right," sighed John quietly from beside him.
Frowning, Adam brought the bottle back to his mouth. A bigger sip and he felt it rolling all the way down to his stomach. He felt it settling almost instantly.
"Thanks" Adam said. He licked his lips, ignoring the upset grumble of his stomach. He hadn't eaten in about six hours. Not that he was thinking about food right then. "You know," he started to say. The look on his dad's face stopped his initial comments before they even allowed themselves to be fully formed in his mind. "This is much better cold." And he handed he bottle back.
John scoffed at him. He shook his head slightly, ruffled Adam's hair, and went back to sit down. Adam returned to staring out the window.
And waiting.
When they were finally called in, because Adam wasn't trusted just then for him to go in without his dad. He wasn't even going to bother asking. They were brought over to a cornered cot, with a cabinet of medical things and a large curtain that the doctor was quick to pull closed.
The doctor wasn't young, which was good because John often scoffed at them. He doubted mere 'kids' would know what they're doing. One of the many reasons that Winchesters didn't really bother with doctors.
His hair was full of whites and grays and Adam thought he might have been blond like himself when he was younger.
"Take a seat," the doctor motioned towards the cot, turning to pull the curtain closed.
And there in lay most of Adam's current, non-puking, problems.
"Uh," he could feel himself blushing; the warmth spreading from his cheeks, down his neck, and behind his ears. "Can't I stand?"
The doctor turned to him - making him blush even further - and raised his eye brows. To make matters just ten times worse, his dad scoffed behind him.
The doctor glanced quickly at John, but his eyes went back to Adam. Adam couldn't help but wonder if no one had ever, in the probable decades the guy had been practicing, asked that before.
"He's fine," his dad said, taking them both (Adam and the doctor, anyway) out of the uncomfortable silence and deciding for the both of them.
Which wasn't all that surprising, if you knew John.
Adam sighed and moved to hop up on hard, ow, crap! cot. He tried to keep the hiss to himself, but he couldn't help shifting slightly.
And then he noticed the doctor was smirking.
Crap. His life SUCKED! He knew. Adam knew that he knew. And with the doctor's raised eyebrow glance over to John before he looked down at his notes, Adam knew that he knew that he knew.
Adam would turn and glare at his dad, if it wasn't so obvious the more so. And if it wasn't completely ill-advised and a butt-icide to do so.
"I'm Doctor Andrew Straub," he introduced himself. "How are you feeling today?"
"Sick," Adam groaned. He didn't even have to fake it. He was pale, and miserable, and his stomach was feeling all kinds of unloving. Plus, he'd just finished an 8 oz. bottle of Ginger Ale.
Dr. Straub smiled and nodded. "I would imagine so. And what exactly is making you feel sick? Maybe we can find you something to help."
"M puking alot." Adam said, sounding as miserable as he felt. And shifting just the tiniest bit. Hoping no one else noticed.
Straub nodded, jotting down notes. When Adam didn't continue, he glanced up. "How long?"
"Since he ate almost half of a garbage can, in some damn alley."
Leave it to John to say what Adam had been trying so hard not to mention. Did the doctor
really even need to know that? Adam didn't think so! It was bad enough that his Dad knew.
"Well," the doctor frowned over at him. "That would certainly cause some problems. Can I ask you why you chose to eat out of a garbage can? And possibly what it was that you ate."
It would be even stupider to point that ou-
"Because he decided to run off on his own, and eating out of a back alley is just the kind of thing to top off such wonderfully astute decisions."
No need to mention who so loving scoffed out that remark.
The look Dr. Straub gave him then, well Adam couldn't help but realize he was probably coming to a very clear concept of why he couldn't stop shifting around.
Adam blushed even more profusely.
"I assume I don't have to go into how bad a decision that was, young man," Dr. Straub said, shaking his head.
"No sir," Adam sighed. His stomach cringed.
"Hmm," he glanced back down at his notes. "When was the last time you threw-up?"
"About an hour ago," John replied.
"And I'm guessing you don't have a real clear idea on what was eaten?' The doctor nodded, jotting that down too.
"No sir," Adam replied anyway.
"Well, I'm going to have a nurse come in, start an IV to get your fluids back up. Then, I'm afraid we're going to have to pump your stomach."
Adam's eyes went wide. His day was already sucking to begin with, but this was just incredibly bad.
"What?"
"Figured as much," John said, casual as anything.
"How long ago was it that you ingested the food?"
"Four hours," Adam shrugged. Give or take when his dad found him, beemed his ass, and then he couldn't stop puking for all his life's worth.
He might just puke right then.
The doctor nodded. "We're going to have to take the contents, test them to see what it was that you had. Hopefully, just removing the contents will be enough to subside any other possible reactions. I'll get the nurses here."
And so, Adam's intensely bad night, intensified.
As the doctor left, Adam hopped off of the cot, reaching back to rub, and frowning over at his dad.
"Don't look at me like you didn't deserve it," John said. He stood up and reached over, feeling Adam's flushed forehead. "How you feeling, kid?"
"Sick," Adam groaned. He leaned forward, dropping his head against his dad's chest. "Mad... Nervous."
"You're going to be fine, kiddo," John said, his arms tightening around the teen. "I've had to have both Nick and Dean's stomachs flushed out. Dean twice."
"Why?" Adam frowned. He couldn't imagine wanting to do something like that twice. It certainly didn't sound fun.
"Well," he could hear the smile on his dad's face, though he couldn't understand the fondness of those kinds of memories. "Dean's a brat, who won't back down from a dare. Nicky's an idiot who won't be one-upped by his little brother. And both of them ate some kind of stupid concoction of Caleb's from a whole bitchload of things they found in Bobby's yard."
"Gross," Adam cringed, his stomach equally complaining as it tussled and turned within.
John rubbed his back. Two nurses entered the space again, and John easily enough lifted Adam back onto the cot. He hissed, less prepared this time, when his bottom touched the not-soft bed.
"You boys are going to be the death of me," John said, ruffling his hair before he backed up and let the lady and guy there do their work.