Through the Darkness
This was a difficult chapter for me to write, I'm not at all sure why. But I don't know what I think about it. Still I really enjoy sharing these chapters with all of you, so I will leave the final decision up to you ^_^ enjoy! [I hope!]
Through the Darkness
Through the Darkness 2
Title: Through the Darkness 3
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13 [Language]
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: A hunt gone wrong forces Dean to rely on his brother, and look at the world in a whole new way, he doesn't like what he sees.
It was a surreal feeling to be blind but feel the room spin around you. Dean wondered at the strength of sedative he'd actually been given but knew this could just as easily be the concussion at work too. His eyes were closed, it had just felt like too much effort to keep the opened, not that it matter either way.
Dean's growing frustration was becoming more of a problem, both from the head wound and the fact that he had no real concept of time, short of asking Sam every two minutes. He wanted to rub at his eyes in the hope of clearing them, but every time his hands came near his face Sam reached out and stopped him. He was no longer paying attention to the reasons; he didn't care about any of that. He just wanted to see.
"You still with us Dean?" a low voice asked, it was accompanied by the soft squeak of wheels across the tile floor as the doctor adjusted his position for what had to be the fiftieth time. Dean moved to nod his head, not feeling much like talking, and felt the pull of the stitches the doctor was putting in place. The clink of metal followed by the touch of a gloved hand on his face quickly steadied his head. "Almost done," the male voice assured.
Dean didn't even know the man's name. Hadn't cared to pay attention when he'd walked in, he'd left all that to Sam; his brother had his back, at every turn. The scrap of metal on metal drew Dean's wandering attention, it had been brief, but in his mind could be so many thing it just wasn't clear. Nothing was, not without his sight. How could he be a hunter without his sight? He couldn't protect his brother, the roles were reversing.
Dean pushed the thoughts away, trying instead to focus on what he could hear and feel. The smooth warm rubber covered fingers slid across his temple pressing a bandage over what must have been a neat row of stitches. "Alright Dean, can I get you to sit up?" the doctor asked and the wheels of his stool rolled across the floor.
Pushing himself up, Dean felt his head begin to swim, but didn't miss Sam's 'helping' hands. The mattress shifted under him the exam tables cover crinkling loudly. There was the sound of the stool moving again, this time closer to him right between his knees. "I'm going to take a look at your eyes," the doctor's voice explained while his hands touched either side of Dean's head.
He resisted at first, not wanting to be pulled in any direction. Dean reached out with his hands to push the doctor away, but when his fingers collided with metal and plastic he stopped. He couldn't be sure what it was by touching it, but he knew now it wasn't the doctor directly in front of him. Trembling fingers slid across as spot that felt like it was meant for his chin, and Dean could picture the device. He dropped his head into place, relieved they were finally dealing with his biggest problem.
"Dean can you turn your eyes to your right?" the doctor asked, and the request sounded weird to Dean's ears even as he did it.
There was silence in the room, and he felt Sam's presence beside him. It left Dean wondering when his brother had moved.
"Good, now to your left."
Dean obliged though all he wanted was sleep, still the answer to the question of his eyes was enough to fight off exhaustion and a concussion. He wondered if the word 'Good' was a positive sign, or had the doctor merely said it out of habit?
"Well Dean I have good news and bad news," the doctor began, but that was about all Dean's mind was willing to process. There was too much terminology for his concussed brain to handle; he did catch "One week..." as well as, "Possibly temporary." Neither were enough to hold onto. The doctor wrapped his eyes in what felt like gauze, why? Dean wasn't entirely sure. After a while Dean got the sense the doctor was simply directing his attention to Sam, answering the seemingly unending stream of questions.
The older Winchester did snap back to attention when his ears caught, "We'll keep him over night for observation."
"I'm not staying," he spoke up finally working to make his voice as firm as possible.
"Dean--" Sam began.
"Bring me the forms, I want to go home," he sounded like a child, but didn't care.
The silence that followed was awkward, it left Dean time to think -What home?- another cookie cutter hotel? Some out of the way dump? They'd been calling places like that 'home' for just about all their lives. But the most important thing about those rooms was Sam; he needed his brother to have his back.
Thanks for Reading!
Through the Darkness 4
Through the Darkness
Through the Darkness 2
Title: Through the Darkness 3
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13 [Language]
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: A hunt gone wrong forces Dean to rely on his brother, and look at the world in a whole new way, he doesn't like what he sees.
It was a surreal feeling to be blind but feel the room spin around you. Dean wondered at the strength of sedative he'd actually been given but knew this could just as easily be the concussion at work too. His eyes were closed, it had just felt like too much effort to keep the opened, not that it matter either way.
Dean's growing frustration was becoming more of a problem, both from the head wound and the fact that he had no real concept of time, short of asking Sam every two minutes. He wanted to rub at his eyes in the hope of clearing them, but every time his hands came near his face Sam reached out and stopped him. He was no longer paying attention to the reasons; he didn't care about any of that. He just wanted to see.
"You still with us Dean?" a low voice asked, it was accompanied by the soft squeak of wheels across the tile floor as the doctor adjusted his position for what had to be the fiftieth time. Dean moved to nod his head, not feeling much like talking, and felt the pull of the stitches the doctor was putting in place. The clink of metal followed by the touch of a gloved hand on his face quickly steadied his head. "Almost done," the male voice assured.
Dean didn't even know the man's name. Hadn't cared to pay attention when he'd walked in, he'd left all that to Sam; his brother had his back, at every turn. The scrap of metal on metal drew Dean's wandering attention, it had been brief, but in his mind could be so many thing it just wasn't clear. Nothing was, not without his sight. How could he be a hunter without his sight? He couldn't protect his brother, the roles were reversing.
Dean pushed the thoughts away, trying instead to focus on what he could hear and feel. The smooth warm rubber covered fingers slid across his temple pressing a bandage over what must have been a neat row of stitches. "Alright Dean, can I get you to sit up?" the doctor asked and the wheels of his stool rolled across the floor.
Pushing himself up, Dean felt his head begin to swim, but didn't miss Sam's 'helping' hands. The mattress shifted under him the exam tables cover crinkling loudly. There was the sound of the stool moving again, this time closer to him right between his knees. "I'm going to take a look at your eyes," the doctor's voice explained while his hands touched either side of Dean's head.
He resisted at first, not wanting to be pulled in any direction. Dean reached out with his hands to push the doctor away, but when his fingers collided with metal and plastic he stopped. He couldn't be sure what it was by touching it, but he knew now it wasn't the doctor directly in front of him. Trembling fingers slid across as spot that felt like it was meant for his chin, and Dean could picture the device. He dropped his head into place, relieved they were finally dealing with his biggest problem.
"Dean can you turn your eyes to your right?" the doctor asked, and the request sounded weird to Dean's ears even as he did it.
There was silence in the room, and he felt Sam's presence beside him. It left Dean wondering when his brother had moved.
"Good, now to your left."
Dean obliged though all he wanted was sleep, still the answer to the question of his eyes was enough to fight off exhaustion and a concussion. He wondered if the word 'Good' was a positive sign, or had the doctor merely said it out of habit?
"Well Dean I have good news and bad news," the doctor began, but that was about all Dean's mind was willing to process. There was too much terminology for his concussed brain to handle; he did catch "One week..." as well as, "Possibly temporary." Neither were enough to hold onto. The doctor wrapped his eyes in what felt like gauze, why? Dean wasn't entirely sure. After a while Dean got the sense the doctor was simply directing his attention to Sam, answering the seemingly unending stream of questions.
The older Winchester did snap back to attention when his ears caught, "We'll keep him over night for observation."
"I'm not staying," he spoke up finally working to make his voice as firm as possible.
"Dean--" Sam began.
"Bring me the forms, I want to go home," he sounded like a child, but didn't care.
The silence that followed was awkward, it left Dean time to think -What home?- another cookie cutter hotel? Some out of the way dump? They'd been calling places like that 'home' for just about all their lives. But the most important thing about those rooms was Sam; he needed his brother to have his back.
Thanks for Reading!
Through the Darkness 4