Fic: Light the Length of August (Supernatural) 2/?

[broken_cinders]

Title: Light the Length of August - Chapter 2: Darks and Lights
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s): Sam, Cas, Dean
Pairing(s): Gen
Word Count: 3727
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it’s not mine. If you don’t recognize it, it still might not be mine. Any recognizable places or people have been fictionalized. I am not blind. I do not have any immediate acquaintances that are blind. Any mistakes on that front are entirely my own. If you spot an error, let me know. Research can only take me so far.
Summary: Sam thinks of himself as an intelligent guy. He knows life isn’t usually fair. He knows the job they do is dangerous. He knows for them there are no guarantees or ironclad promises. He also knows that time is running out to find his possibly demonic brother and help Cas. He doesn’t have time for another sucker punch from whatever higher power likes toying with him. He still wakes up in the hospital alone and blind.


When Sam reemerged into consciousness, the first thing he knew was a throbbing in his shoulder - dulled and numbed by drugs, but still present.

The next was that his neck was stiff from lying in one position.

The last was that it was unexpectedly dark, like light was filtering to him at the bottom of a deep hole. He blinked, waiting for something recognizable to materialize in the murky light, but it was just dim. He shifted to sit more upright and hissed at the pull in his shoulder. The stinging pain prompted him to take stock of his other injuries.

He vaguely remembered killing the wendigo. At least he remembered the brute barreling down the cave tunnel towards him as he took aim, but he was pretty sure he’d finished the job. Had he fallen unconscious after that?

He frowned. That wasn’t right. It might be dark, but he wasn’t lying on cold stone. He was in a bed. He could feel the rough fabric of the sheets twisting in his hands where his fists had tightened.

It was just so dark. Something wasn’t right. A pit in his stomach opened as he began to suspect that whatever wasn’t right, it wasn’t right with him. His breath hitched and he noticed a soft beeping increase to match the jumping tempo of his heartbeat. That would mean he was in a hospital. Sam twisted, turning his head to try and understand where he was in the room. His experience with hospitals was that there was always light. Always. Even at three in the morning there was ambient light from the hallway and from monitors. Now it was dark. He felt like he was seeing light diffused through a thick cloth. He scrubbed his hands over his face, but there was nothing there.

Something brushed up against his bed and he froze.

“Sam?”

Sam jerked up and away from the voice. He hadn’t noticed anyone coming into the room.  He had no idea what was around or who was there with him, aside from the fact that the voice had been female. A hand landed on his arm. His training took over. He had his own hand wrapped around a slender wrist with a tight grip before he had processed that she was probably a nurse. He had pulled so that it was clear he had the leverage against her, even lying down.

“Sir!” The voice was startled and the wrist in his grip twisted against his hold.

Sam’s head jerked in her direction. “What’s going on,” he demanded in a low, harsh voice.

“Please, sir,” the woman said. Her voice was soft, but urgent. It had a gentleness to it that Sam associated with frightened animals. It made his skin crawl. “You’re in the hospital. You were brought in after an officer found you in your car. You crashed into a tree.”

“Why can’t I see,” he hissed.

The woman in his grasp froze. “What?” Her voice turned stern, losing all traces of the softness it had held just moments ago.

“Why can’t I see?”

“Sir, let me go,” she said, tugging on her wrist. “I need to get the doctor.”

Sam let her pull herself from his grasp. He wanted answers, but she sounded just as confused as he was. It wasn’t her fault. A doctor would be better able to tell him what was going on. She scurried away, leaving him sitting in an expanse of unknown room.

Even feeling deep in his bones that he was exposed and vulnerable, Sam couldn’t help the weariness dragging at him. He could feel the drugs swimming in his system working to pull him back under. He had nearly drifted off while debating his ability to escape when someone new entered the room. Sam immediately tensed. He couldn’t have said exactly how he knew someone was there. There hadn’t been a knock at his door nor had his visitor said anything. It was more like the air in the room changed. Sam had long ago learned to trust his instincts in situations like these.

“Who’s there?”

He sounded scared even to himself.

Short clipped footsteps came up to his bedside. Sam was amazed he hadn’t heard them in the hall. He must really have been more asleep than awake. “Hello, Sam,” said a cool, feminine voice. “My name is Dr. Evelyn Kinder. I’ve been taking care of you here.”

“Where is here?”

“You’re in the Claiborne Medical Center. Can you tell me your name?”

That didn’t actually tell him anything. He had been near Wheeler, Virginia, but he didn’t recognize the name of the hospital. He had no idea what insurance information he had on him, either. Taking a gamble he said, “Sam Singer.” Those papers had always been good, and more importantly, mostly legitimate. Even now, after Bobby had been gone for all these years, they still kept the information up to date.

“Date of Birth?”

“May 2nd, 1983.”

“What year is it?”

“2014.” Sam scowled at the rapid fire questions.

“Good,” the doctor said. She sounded placating, as if she could sense Sam’s growing impatience. Maybe she could. He wasn’t exactly making a secret of it. “Glad to know you’re back with us.”

That made Sam pause. He’d assumed he had just passed out after the fight, but something in her tone made it sound like he had been down for much longer than a few hours. “Back?”

He felt her shift beside him. “You’ve been out for about three days now. Even before that, you were pretty confused when the medics brought you in. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up since we got you stabilized. That was a pretty nasty claw mark you had on your shoulder.”

Sam didn’t care about the shoulder. It was just one more scar in his admittedly impressive collection. “Doc, my eyes…”

“Nurse Karen mentioned something about that,” she said, shifting into a more businesslike tone. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to take a look.”

Sam nodded. Even braced for the touch he knew was coming, he flinched when her cool hand touched his forehead. He allowed her to tilt his head so that she could get a better view.

“What can you see right now?”

“Nothing,” Sam said, swallowing down the flash of uncertainty the answer provoked.

“Is it black?” She pressed as she angled his head to the side. “Darks and lights? Shapes? Movement? Flashes?”

Sam focused as much as his tired brain could on the question. “Um. It’s all dark grey. Lighter over there.” He waved vaguely towards the left where the dark grey turned slightly brighter.

She made a noncommittal noise before saying, “I’m going to shine a light in your eyes. I need you to keep them open for me.”

He nodded and fought the immediate need to blink. Sam was surprised when a light filled the grey field, washing everything out to a uniform white. As it did, his head gave a pulsing throb and he pulled away suddenly very aware that he’d just suffered a major concussion.

The doctor just hummed. “Pupil reaction is good. In fact, you’re healing remarkably fast. I’d like do a couple of tests just to see what’s going on.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer Sam was hoping for, but he nodded. Tests sounded reasonable. “You can fix this, right?”

The doctor hesitated. “Mr. Singer, you were in really bad shape when you came in. You had a severe concussion and were nearly unresponsive. That type of head injury isn’t something to take lightly.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” she said with a note of finality. “I won’t theorize without more information. Let me run some tests and we’ll see what the results tell us.”

“But-”

“Get some rest Mr. Singer. I’ll have a nurse come in and prep you soon.”

Sam listened as her steps grew distant. He laid back in his bed and let the fatigue wash over him. This was the last thing he needed. This hunt was only supposed to be a pit stop, something he had to take care of before he could resume his search for his brother.

He felt his headache building again with a vengeance.

Sam was only left alone for a few minutes before the nurse was back, introducing herself as Karen and flitting around him doing whatever it was she was supposed to do. Sam could make a few educated guesses, but her running stream of chatter seemed to encompass the day’s gossip rather than what exactly she was doing. Instead of asking or trying to puzzle out an answer, Sam let himself drift. He still felt worn thin, and if the nurse hadn’t been there he probably would have already drifted off to sleep. One comment towards the end caught his attention.

“You’re going to have a visitor in just a minute. Dave asked us to tell him as soon as you were awake.”

Sam sat up straighter, listening as she rattled something near the head of his bead. “Wait, who?”

“He said he’d be along in just a few minutes,” Karen said, barely even acknowledging Sam’s question. “I imagine it won’t be long. He was nearby when I called.”

Sam sucked in a breath to try and ask another question, anything to make her stop and explain what she meant, but before he could she patted him on the shoulder and said, “There. All done. I’ll be back in a few to take you down for your MRI. We got you in for this afternoon.”

With that, she bustled out of the room before Sam could call her back. He spent a few solid minutes stewing in his irritation before there was a knock on his door. Sam turned his head towards the noise, frowning. It seemed like he was careening from one thing to the next today.

“Hello,” he asked into the void of his room. He already hated this so much.

There was the scuff of heavy shoes as someone stepped into his room. “Hi.” The voice was deep, but pleasant. “My name is David Pierson. I was the responding officer to the accident. I was hoping you had moment?”

Sam bit down on the less charitable impulse to ask what exactly the man thought he had better to do. Instead, he nodded. At least he understood who Dave was and why the nurse had called him. Despite his darkening mood, he felt some of his anxiety ease. He’d expected to have someone show up to question him. He had about two seconds to decide how he wanted to play this. At this point, he had a feeling FBI wasn’t going to cut it. It would have to be a good Samaritan act.

Sam let himself sink down into the right headspace to deal with the problem in front of him. Being convincing as a helpful bystander when he looked as rough around the edges as Sam knew he did required a certain kind of guileless charm. Sam didn’t know if he had the energy for this today.

With a small grin he stalled by saying, “I hear I have you to thank for getting down off that mountain.”

Taking that as an invitation, Officer Pierson came into the room and up to Sam’s bedside. There was heavy thump and Sam was suddenly very aware of the cologne the officer was wearing. It was heavy and spiced. Sam waved widely at the wall where he assumed there would be a chair. “Go ahead if you’d like. Pull up a seat.”

Officer Pierson cleared his throat. “I ah, am here on official business mostly. I was glad to hear it was mostly bumps and scrapes, though.”

Sam shrugged. “Aside from the obvious, I’m basically fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. Glad I was late doing my patrol.”

“Me too. So what can I do for you,” Sam asked. He was feeling nervous of having someone looming over him. He knew in his head that the man beside him was probably a respectable distance away, but it felt like he was on top of the bed. Sam swallowed down the nerves, doing his best to settle in for the conversation.

“Just a few questions if you’re up for it.”

Sam shrugged. “Sure. Most of that day is pretty fuzzy, but I’ll try.”

David nodded and pulled out his pad. “I wanted to follow up with you about the circumstances around the accident. Can you tell me what happened leading up to that?”

Sam scoured his memory, trying to come up with any details that weren’t hunt related. He could barely remember stumbling out of the cave, much less what came after. Giving up, he decided he would just have to go with the official line. He bit his lip and said, “I found the den of that rabid bear that’s been in the papers and took a good hit to the head when it saw me. I hadn’t realized quite how bad a shape I was in. I suppose that’s just the joys of concussions. I remember it being very dim by the time I made it back to the car. I had been trying to keep it on the road long enough to get down to some cell service. Ran off the road because I couldn’t make out the pavement anymore. I think. Like I said, it’s all pretty fuzzy.”

“You said you were hunting a bear?” Sam could hear it in his tone. He knew damn well that it hadn’t been a bear. He also wasn’t asking what it had been. Sam got the feeling he was willing to roll with it because he knew the real answer would make him regret his life decisions. Sam stuck to the published story. He figured if it made both their lives easier, it would be best to go along with it.

“Well, not intentionally. I tripped across the den and found that girl up there.” He frowned, only just now remembering he’d been on a rescue mission. He’d lost track of her after she ran and had totally forgotten about her by the time he was stumbling his way down the trail. Guilt swam in his gut as he realized he hadn’t even thought to check on her. “She was trapped and in pretty bad shape. How is she anyway?”

“Suzie’s doing fine,” the officer said. “She had a sprained ankle and a broken collar bone, but nothing that won’t heal up. Doc says she’ll be good as new in a few weeks.”

Sam nodded, relief flooding his system. “I’m glad.”

“What were you doing up in the woods?”

Sam tensed at the shift in tone. If he didn’t play this right he would come out looking suspicious rather than helpful. “Just a bit of hiking.”

“With a gun?”

Sam frowned. “A hand gun that I have a permit for and a flair,” he corrected. “I like to go off trail, and I wasn’t really familiar with the area. I’ve had some bad experiences with crazies living up in the backwoods before. Besides it is bear season. They’re usually frightened off by the loud noise.”

As Sam spoke he knew the officer was taking notes. The pen made a soft, scratching noise as he wrote that made Sam want to wrinkle his nose. After a short pause, the officer pressed on. “When I found you, you were worried about your father and someone named Dean. Were they with you?”

Sam’s frown deepened. “I said that?”

“Yep. Asked where they were and if they were okay.”

“No,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “They weren’t with me. Dean is out of the country right now and our father died nearly eight years ago in a bad wreck. I was driving and they were both in the car. A semi ran into our lane and collided head on. I must have mixed up the two events while I was out of it. I don’t remember saying any of that.”

“Well, good,” he said, sounding almost relieved. “Then you won’t be mad that I tried to call the Dean from your phone contacts, even if I did say I wouldn’t.”

“I asked you not to call him? Did he answer?” Sam didn’t want to sound too eager. It would probably cause more problems than it solved for Dean to answer his phone, but there was always the off chance he might if it came from someone else’s number.

“No,” the officer said. “I couldn’t reach him. The numbers in your I.C.E. were all disconnected. I did also try to contact a Bobby Singer, since you asked me to make sure he got the car, but...”

“But Bobby passed away a few years ago too.” Apparently Sam had just spilled his guts to the first person he saw while concussed. He could feel his cheeks heating as he thought about what else he might have said or done in the lost time.

“Your car is in impound at the station for now,” the officer said, shaking Sam from his thoughts. “I know you were worried about it.”

Sam snorted. “Nah, not that much. If I was that freaked about it, it was because I thought I had crashed my brother’s car. It’s practically his baby. He’ll be glad to know that even concussed I remembered to take care of her.”

Pierson snorted. “Older brother, I assume?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I have one of those,” he said conspiratorially. “I may have gotten a few ‘dent my car and I’ll dent your head’ type of lectures in my day.”

Sam felt a real smile creeping up on him. “I was only allowed to drive that thing on pain of death until I was nearly thirty,” he admitted. “Even then I think he didn’t threaten me because he was doped up on cold medicine at the time.”

Pierson chuckled. The levity hung between them for a moment, but fell flat when Pierson cleared his throat. “Well, it seems pretty simple to me. I’ll file a copy of my notes if you need them for the insurance information. Thank you for helping Suzie. That bear has cost us good people. We all owe you.”

Sam shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I did what anyone would have. I’m just glad I could help.”

“All the same. You need anything, you call me. Here,” he said. There was a sound of ripping paper. Sam tentatively held his hand out. When the sheet was placed in his open palm, he frowned.

“That’s my number,” Pierson said. “I mean it. You need a place to stay or anything until you get back on your feet, give me a ring.”

Sam nodded. “Thank you. And thanks again for all your help. I have no idea if I said it that day, but I’d have been in real trouble if you hadn’t found me.”

Pierson grunted. “Oh, and here,” he said. The bed dipped near Sam’s knee as something flopped onto the mattress, pulling the sheet tight across his legs. Sam reached forward until his fingers met familiar canvas.

“I found your bag when I searched your car. I know it’s a bit out of the usual, but I figured you could use a change of clothes. Hospital gowns get old after a while.”

Sam chuckled. He had spent a good twenty minutes earlier thinking about how he’d make it to his motel room in nothing but the paper gown they’d given him if he managed to escape the hospital. “Thanks. I…thanks.”

There was a brief pause as the door squeaked open. David chuckled before he said, “Well, I think that’s my cue. Take care of yourself.”

Sam lost track of David in the shuffle of movement at the door. Before he knew it, Karen was back at his side to whisk him off to some corridor on the other side of the hospital where he sat and shivered and waited. It was the first of many long, boring stretches of time.

When the doctor had said she wanted to run some tests, Sam had imagined that might encompass an eye exam or something similar - half an hour and then some waiting. What actually happened was a day and a half of being poked, prodded, and stuffed in a giant metal tube. It was quite frankly exhausting and terrifying. He quickly discovered that claustrophobia was an issue for him when he couldn’t see. The MRI machine had been tight and unnerving. To have so much noise coming at him in such close quarters sent him into flight mode. He’d made a break for it, sliding out of the tube and punching the poor orderly that had been assisting when he tried to restrain him. Sam had added an anti-anxiety medicine to his cocktail at that point. While he’d managed to sit through the test the second time, he would be quite happy to never have to do that again.

He was also increasingly frustrated with the staff. Karen and Dr. Kinder were trying, but the other nurses seemed not to care that he was blind, or at least newly blinded. He had been shuffled from one spot to another, manhandled in ways that had his instincts screaming, and left alone with no guidance or reference whatsoever. He felt his frustration and anger rising any time he had to interact with most of them.

He had taken to meditating just to keep from lashing out at someone, falling back on old exercises Jess had shared with him when he was a jittery mess of nerves that first year in college. He knew it was because this was all new. He was well aware that he wasn’t handling things as well as he should, and taking it out on the hospital staff would only make matters worse.

Still, by the time Dr. Kinder came back and stood at the side of his bed, he was ready to be done with this hospital and this town. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about how he was going to leave or where he was going to go. His sole focus for the last two days had been to get answers and then get out.

<<  Previous Chapter ~   Master Post   ~  Next Chapter  >>