The Huntress -Chapter 12
Rania was waiting for them in the doorway, all the lights of her house on. They had made it there in a little less than an hour and Dean’s condition had gradually worsened. He was delirious, his breathing quick and shallow, his face had a greyish tint, despite the fever, that filled Sam with fear.
He got Dean out of the car, pushing Bobby away when he tried to help. “Don’t touch him, I got him,” he said harshly, so acutely overwhelmed by Dean's state that he couldn’t even think about letting go of him, not even for a few seconds.
“Quick, Sam, get him in to the bed,” Rania said, letting Sam take the lead.
“Is Sue okay?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Sleeping in my room, Sam, don’t worry about her for now.”
Everything went really fast then. Rania had spent most of the last hour on the phone with Ellen and there was already a lot of medical equipment ready to be used near the bed.
“Sam, I want you to wait outside,” Rania told him, already examining Dean who was trying to move away from the crude light and fighting the doctor’s hands feebly.
“What, no, I’m staying!”
“Ellen will help me. Sam, you’re almost in a state of shock, trust me, I’ll take care of Dean.”
“No.”
“Sam, we have no time!”
Sam felt someone pulling him back. He tried to fight but couldn’t, just let Bobby drag him out of the room as he started swaying on his feet. His vision blurred. He was barely aware of the door closing on him and being taken to the kitchen where Bobby sat him on a chair and kept a solid arm on his shoulder.
“Try to slow down your breathing, son.”
“I’m fine, Bobby, damn it,” he said, but he knew he wasn’t. The adrenaline that had kept him going was slowly receding. His heart was beating almost painfully hard in his chest, his hands were shaking and his legs and arms were numb. He wondered how he had been able to carry Dean without feeling the strain on his muscles.
Bobby didn’t say anything, just patted him on the shoulder and filled a glass with tap water for him. Sam drank it in one large gulp. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.
“I have to go back in there,” he said.
“Here.”
Bobby put a small glass of what looked like whisky next to the empty glass of water. Sam downed it mechanically.
“This is so fucked up? Why did she do it?”
“M’guessing Dean will have more answers than we do. I’ll have to go back to the cabin, Sam. Do some clean up and make sure killing Isabelle killed the spirit too.”
Sam nodded without any interest. Right now, all that mattered was Dean. It was hard, letting Rania work without being nearby, so he stood up and announced that he’d go check on Sumiko.
His daughter was sleeping soundly in her pack n’ play, huddled in a corner with her blankets tucked under her. Sam sat on Rania’s bed and looked at her for a long time, trying not to think.
Trying not to think about how bad and ill Dean looked, or how his illness and captivity could’ve affected the baby.
Looking over Sumiko helped, but didn’t stop Sam’s hyperactive brain from imagining a thousand catastrophic scenarios.
Then, suddenly, Bobby was in the entrance of the room, his cap in his hands. “Rania needs you.”
Sam all but ran to them and was stopped by Rania who kept the door closed behind her.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve been giving Dean a bolus IV drip to rehydrate him because that was the more urgent problem and he’s starting to get agitated. Need you to keep him calm because panic makes his heartbeat accelerate and we can’t afford that right now.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Rania shrugged. “It’s still early to say. He’s got pneumonia and a bad fever. To tell you the truth, he’d be better off in a hospital.”
“God. What…what about the baby?”
“For now, all I’m doing is watching the foetal monitor. She’s in distress, her heartbeat is way too slow for my liking. You have to prepare yourself, Sam. I’m sorry, but she might not make it. For now, there is no sign of early labor, but dehydration is a trigger and-”
“She’ll be okay. She’s stronger than you think,” Sam cut her off abruptly, picturing the little girl in his vision and refusing to imagine that Angelia wouldn’t be that little girl one day.
“Sam, let’s… take it one step at a time. I still have some stuff to do and right now, I want you to come inside with me and be as calm as possible, okay?” Rania sighed and blew away a strand of hair that had escaped the bun tied behind her head.
“Yeah, I’m calm.”
It was still a shock to see Dean, even if Sam had been the one to find him in that basement. The bed was raised at a 90 degree sitting position and there was an oxygen mask covering most of his face with his eyes wide and shinning with fear above it. Rania had cut his shirt right up the middle, exposing his torso on which cardiac sensors had been glued. The large elastic band of the foetal monitor was wrapped around his belly, and there, under the crude light, Sam got the impression that it had deflated somewhat. He wondered how much weight Dean could have lost in two weeks of captivity.
There were beeps in the room, the noise of the baby's heartbeat, as heard over the monitor, was the loudest of them all. Two tanks of oxygen were sitting on the floor near the bed, a lot of sterile packages open, but at yet unused were lying on a medical cart. The IV drip was flowing fast, and a smaller second bag was waiting to be used.
This is crazy, Sam though, trying to get himself together. He should be in a hospital with a whole team watching over him. What do we think we’re doing here?
Ellen was near the bed, holding Dean’s hand and speaking to him softly, but Dean was still shaking his head slowly from left to right and moaning softly under the oxygen mask.
“Sam is here, Dean,” Ellen said, backing up a few steps.
“Hey.” Sam kept his voice calm and light, as if there was nothing to worry about as he got close to the bed. Dean’s raised his hand, his trembling fingers clawing in the air like he wanted to grab Sam’s shirt.
“You gotta keep calm, Dean. You’re safe now, everything’s under control, okay?”
Dean’s eyes locked on his immediately and Sam took his hand without relinquishing that eye contact.
“He’s still pretty confused,” Rania told him, getting back to work. “His fever is high and it will take some time before the effects of the IV drip begin to have an effect. I’ve given him something for the pain, but now I have to install a Foley so it’s very important that you keep him as calm as possible, okay?”
Sam nodded and bent over Dean’s belly so that he wouldn’t see what was going on and Sam’s face would be the only thing in his line of vision.
“You’re gonna be alright, ya know? You freaking scared me, man. Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again.”
Dean stopped shaking his head and his hand relaxed slightly in Sam's grip. His eyes were bright and pleading, drinking in the sight of Sam in a way that made his heart clench so hard it hurt.
Sam talked. He spoke about what Sumiko had been up to, and about her birthday which would be there before they knew it. When Rania did something that made him tense up and grimace in pain, Sam got even closer and murmured in a soothing voice. “Angelia led me to you. She saved the both of you. I saw her Dean and she’s so pretty, so different from Sumiko, but there's a resemblance nonetheless, and she… she’s got your nose and your freckles and it’s cute, you can’t stop me from saying it this time, can you?”
Dean blinked and there were so many emotions passing through his eyes it was like an entire conversation. These weren't things they normally said, this wasn’t their usual way of talking to each other, but Sam went on, his voice like a caress that could sooth Dean’s pain and confusion, and his words a tale of their extraordinary daughter. Dean didn’t move, but he drank in everything Sam told him, and his eyelids slowly started to droop, his eyes working hard to keep their focus, but losing the battle.
“He’s falling asleep,” Sam said to Rania and was surprised to see she was finished, everything settled and Dean’s lower body covered with blankets. She’d also lowered the lighting and was checking Dean’s vitals on a monitor.
“Good,” she said. “That’s good. He needs rest.”
Sam looked around and noticed that Ellen was no longer in the room with them. “Where’s Ellen?”
“I sent her with Bobby to a clinic an hour away from here to get some I.V. antibiotics and specialized equipment we don’t keep at my medical clinic.”
“Will they have to break in?”
Rania shrugged. “What other choice do we have? It's a plastic surgery clinic and I know for a fact that stealing some stuff from them won’t endanger anyone’s life.”
Sam nodded and looked back at Dean who’s eyes were now open to mere slits. “Come on, Dean, let go. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
With one last blink, Dean’s eyes closed for good and he let out a raspy hiccupping sigh.
“Good. That’s good,” Rania said. “I’ll do the ultrasound in a few minutes.”
It was now two in the morning, one of the longest nights on Sam’s long list of never-ending nights. He stayed right where he was, next to Dean, watching his chest rise and fall unevenly.
Rania unstrapped the baby monitor and poured some gel on Dean’s belly. He shivered but didn’t wake up. Sam squeezed his hand tighter.
“Oh, there you are sweetie,” Rania murmured and she couldn’t repress a smile when she saw the soft movements of Angie’s arms and legs. Sam was staring at the screen, observing the small body of his daughter, praying to he didn’t even know who that she would be alright.
Rania took some measurements and isolated the heartbeat. “Still a little slow, but it’s picking up,” she whispered. “Oh. Wait…”
“What?”
“I…”
“What?”
“Sam. When I examined Dean I found some traces of blood on the inside of his thighs. Not much, but still…”
“What does that mean?”
Sam could feel a fresh wave of panic rising from the depths of his stomach.
“The condition is called placental abruption. See, there?”
Sam shook his head. He couldn’t see anything except a darker grey area on a grey image.
“A small part of the placenta got separated from the uterus. That might explain the foetal distress and the bleeding, but I don’t think so. It’s a very slight separation. I was lucky to find it.”
“Can you…” Sam brushed his bangs away from his face. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“According to the measurements I took, the baby’s development has stopped. I examined Dean four days before his abduction and basically, the measurements are the same. This can be cause by a lot of things, trauma, sickness, shock. Given Dean’s state, I’m not that surprised. The important thing is that the development pick up again now that he's receiving proper care. As for the placenta disruption, it could have been caused by a coughing spell or a… a blow to the stomach. This can also stop or slow down foetal development. We have to make sure the baby can overcome this by monitoring her closely and ensuring that Dean receives the proper care. But, you have to know…”
Rania took a look at Dean to make sure he was still sleeping. Her voice was barely audible at all. “Foetal death is a possibility, Sam, and if the baby doesn’t improve I’ll have to induce the labor. It’s only a thirty week pregnancy. Your daughter would need to be in an intensive care unit. That can be arranged if need be without much difficulty. Back when Dean was pregnant with Sumiko, I had already planned for something like that with false papers, but Dean is in no state for giving birth. Given how he was when you brought him in, a few more hours and I don’t think I could’ve done anything.”
Sam’s legs had started to weaken as Rania’s words hit home and he had to let go of Dean’s hand to grip the bed rails with both hands so as not to fall on his ass. He clenched his jaw, refusing to believe the possible consequences of Dean’s abduction.
Angelia was strong, he told himself.
Angelia would get through this.
“But it can improve, right?” He asked.
“Yes, it can. With a lot of rest, if Dean gets better quickly and the placenta abruption is as small as I think it is. I just wanted you to know the risks.”
“I get it.”
Sam felt cold and distant, like he was observing the scene from outside of his own skin. He walked away from the bed, nodding to Rania for her to follow him. When they had their backs turned on Dean, he took Rania’s arm firmly. “He’s been through hell. When he comes back to himself, I don’t want him to know about the baby’s problems.”
“Sam…” Rania shook her head.
“No. M’serious. Dean is going to blame himself, you know that, and it won’t help him recover. I want to be the one to tell him when he’s well enough to talk. He doesn’t have to know everything. What would it change?”
“Jesus, Sam. This is getting out of hand.”
“You’re going to do everything you can, right?”
Rania’s eyes got suddenly darker. “You know I will.”
“One day at a time, right? Hell, one hour at a time. They’ll get through this. Dean and the baby. Just fine.”
Rania bit her lower lip, then tugged on her arm to release it from Sam’s grasp. “All right. As long as you realize how serious the situation is.”
“I do. Trust me.”
::: :::
Portsmouth, July 1
It took Dean more than twenty-four hours to come back from his confused, almost comatose state. Sam didn’t leave his side except for short periods of time to be with Sumiko, letting her know that he hadn’t abandoned her. He’d told everybody not to talk about Dean in her presence because her father wasn’t well enough to see her and he didn’t want her to be more disturbed than she already was.
Bobby and Ellen took care of everything. They came back from the plastic surgery clinic with every item Rania had asked for, and then Bobby went back to Athens to finish the job.
He found a small wooden cross surrounded by flowers behind the cabin. Sure enough, some bones were buried underneath. They were Charlotte’s. Some strands of hair were still stuck to the skull and she wore a dress. There was a locket around her neck with a picture of the sisters inside.
Bobby salted and burned the sisters together, along with all he could find in the house telling the story of Dean’s abduction. When he told Sam he didn’t need to worry about it anymore, he believed him.
That day, during the afternoon, Ellen decided to take Sumiko back home to the beach house. Rania’s house wasn’t adapted for babies and the constant commotion outside of Rania’s office made her nervous and cranky. By then, Sue was used to Ellen and easily accepted being with her. The woman intended to spend the night in Freeport with Sue and Bobby, and come back the next morning.
Sam agreed.
He helped Rania with Dean’s care. There was a lot to do, most of it would have made Dean embarrassed and humiliated, but he was still running a high fever and didn’t even have the strength to talk. Sam was constantly speaking to him, not knowing how conscious he really was.
Over those first twenty-four hours, Dean’s breathing improved enough for Rania to lower the oxygen flow he was receiving through his mask. He had a couple of coughing spells but nothing too harsh or out of control. It was like he didn’t even have the strength to cough anymore. In the evening, Rania told Sam the antibiotics were beginning to take effect and the rattle in his chest had already started to subside. The baby’s heartbeat was still a little low, but sometimes rose to a normal level and it was written all over the young woman’s face how relieved she was to see the normal peeks.
At eleven o’clock that evening, they gave Dean a sponge bath. He showed some signs of awareness during it, trying to help and humming under the mask, like it was the best thing he'd ever felt. After that, his fever start to lower and he fell asleep more calmly, tucked under the covers.
Rania had called into work with a family emergency and canceled all of her appointments as well as her visits to the hospital. She was exhausted. Around midnight, after she installed another intravenous bag of antibiotics, Sam forced her to get out and go rest. She gave him a list of instructions and insisted that Sam come and get her if there was any sign of Dean or the baby deteriorating.
Sam agreed to all her conditions and settled in the comfortable armchair Rania had installed earlier in the room, close to the bed. The sound of the monitors was at its lowest as was the light intensity and Dean looked almost peaceful behind his mask, his hands resting in a relaxed position on the sheets.
Sam couldn't remember the last time he had done more than doze off, but he stayed awake until the IV antibiotics were done and he had to switch to the IV solution. After that, he pulled his chair closer to the bed and let his upper body rest on the mattress near Dean’s belly, relishing the warmth he found there, the simple fact that his brother was alive.
There were entire trains of thought that he kept carefully at bay, dark swirling clouds of fear and dread he ignored with all his will and wits.
He fell asleep then, but it was the sleep of a hunter, still aware, at some level, of his surroundings and when he heard a groan then a weak cough, he quickly shook himself awake and sat straight up in his chair.
Dean was looking at him, his eyes clearer than they had been since Sam had found him. He started lowering the oxygen mask below his mouth in a slow, uneven motion.
“No, Dean you need it.”
Dean made half of an eye roll and coughed again. “G’me s’m water.”
“Yeah, yeah okay.”
Sam put the mask back in place and went to fetch a glass from the kitchen, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to get back to Dean. He pulled the mask down, checking to O2 level on the monitor, but it remained over ninety percent.
“There you go.”
Dean didn’t even try to hold the glass, just pressed his lips eagerly to the rim, swallowing three mouthfuls before pulling back, short of breath. Sam made the motion to put his mask up, but Dean shook his head and raised a hand.
“Wait,” he said, voice scratchy and almost inaudible. “Where’s Sue?”
“She’s okay, Dean, she’s at home with Ellen and Bobby. Now, seriously, the mask needs to-“
“S’ the baby okay?”
“Yes,” Sam lied without even blinking. “ She’s fine. Her heartbeat was a little slow when Rania first monitored it, but it’s getting back to normal. Don’t worry about that. What’s the last thing you remember, Dean?”
Dean frowned. “Got some… random memories of you getting me outta the house… and…” He stopped to clear his throat, all of his body tensing in pain. “Damn my chest hurts. I… huh… have some flashes of being here, with Rania ‘n you and that’s it.”
“Okay, now, if you let me put the mask back, I’ll fill you in.”
Dean’s eyes were shifting from the monitors to Sam to his belly and Sam could tell he was getting anxious. Sam told him about finding him and bringing him here, insisted on the fact that Charlotte and Isabelle were dead and properly disposed of, and kept everything unnecessary out of the discussion.
Dean listened and nodded from time to time. He asked for the date, then sighed, his eyes already going a little out of focus.
“You’ll be okay,” Sam repeated.
“Thanks. For finding me,” Dean mumbled under the mask.
I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner, Sam thought. So sorry about all this, Dean.
He bent over his brother and kissed his forehead. Dean leaned into the touch and Sam felt a little better.
Dean slept for a little while. A strong coughing spell woke him up and alerted Rania who barged into the room, barely awake, wearing some pajama pants and an old sweatshirt, her hair a fuzzy mess around her face.
“Is he okay?” She rasped, then yawned widely.
“Yeah, he’s… He’s better.”
Dean relaxed back on the bed, his face red and his breathing quick, but he still looked better than an hour ago.
“We talked earlier this morning. He’s not confused anymore.”
Rania was already taking Dean’s temperature with a tympanic thermometer. “Great. His fever has lowered.”
Dean was mumbling, but neither Sam nor Rania paid attention, busy with the vitals and monitoring his condition. They both startled in surprise when Dean said in a slow but exasperated voice, “Is this mask really necessary?”
He had taken it down once again and was scratching at his light beard.
“We can try the nasal cannula, but if your O2 level goes down you’ll have to put it back on.”
A few minutes later, Dean was looking way more comfortable with the cannula in place. He drank a whole glass of water and gained a little color. Rania spoke to him in a calm but serious voice about his diagnosis and how she was treating him.
“Once the pneumonia clears up, you’ll feel better, but I’m telling you Dean, you need rest. I'm serious. You were in really bad shape when Sam brought you in.”
Dean blushed and nodded, the reminder of what he must have look like probably crushing his misplaced pride. Then, he rubbed his hand very slowly over his face and tried to clear his throat, wincing in pain. When he spoke, he carefully avoided looking either Sam or Rania in the face. “She used a taser on me that day… in our home. That’s how she got me in the first place… What effect could that have on a foetus?”
Rania clenched her teeth together and shared a quick look with Sam. “The baby is alright now. Her heartbeat is almost at a normal rate. Most of the studies about pregnant woman having suffered from a moderate electric shock demonstrate that it doesn’t affect the pregnancy.”
Dean sighed, then broke into another coughing spell. He was already getting tired. His heart rate was rising.
“She injected me with something too, the same day,” Dean croaked when he was done. “Some powerful shit. I was pretty out of it for a whole day. But after that, she didn’t give me anything, except antibiotics and Tylenol when I got sick.”
“Well, I’m still waiting for the results of the blood sample I took yesterday. We’ll see. For now, Dean, I’m treating the symptoms the best I can, so if there's anything you feel is wrong, anything going on, you tell me, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Dean was beginning to doze off again. Rania gave him another injection and he didn’t even flinch. She then left the room.
“Was ready to fight her, ya know?” Dean told Sam in a very slow voice. “S’just… I never thought she’d use a taser on me.”
He was trying to apologize, Sam realized and anger rose from the depths of his gut. Not against Dean, but against everything else: their fucked-up life, the way something was always waiting for them in the dark, trying to break whatever they were trying to build.
Hating what it did to his brother.
“It’s not your fault, Dean,” is what he said, sitting on the bed next to him.
“Yeah…” Dean slurred. He jerked and opened his eyes suddenly, looking at Sam for a second before relaxing again.
He wanted to make sure I’m still here with him, Sam thought, and the ball of anger grew wider. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, then put a hand on Dean’s thigh, a light touch, just to allow him to relax completely and succumb to sleep.
It worked.
::: :::
Dean was eager to see Sumiko. He asked Sam to shave him in an uneasy voice, mumbling something about not wanting to scare her. Sam used his own shaving kit. It was a very intimate moment between them. At some point, Dean smiled lightly and it illuminated his whole face.
“Your eyes cross when you concentrate,” he said as Sam was washing off the remaining shaving cream. He shifted on the bed, frowning. “Dude, do I have something up my dick?”
“A catheter, yeah.”
“Burns.”
“Suck it up.”
“Bitch.”
Sam opened his mouth to give the traditional answer, but he just couldn’t get it out. Calling his brother a jerk after all he'd been through, even if it was nothing more than a pet name really, was too much for him.
Dean observed him curiously. “Sam?”
“M’fine. Fine. Want some more jello?”
Dean swallowed a couple of mouthfuls even though the mornings activities seemed to have drained him of the little strength he had gathered. Still, he wouldn’t let himself fall back to sleep before he’d seen Sumiko.
“Hey Dean?”
“Mmm?”
“You… you wanna tell me, what Isabelle wanted from you? You don’t have to, but-“
Dean’s eyes darkened at the woman’s name. He started to play with the edge of the sheets nervously. “Wanted the baby for her freaking spirit of a sister. Said she was a vessel. Needed her to be born before doing her fucking magic trick, s’why she kept me alive, or tried to anyway.”
There were a lot of questions coming to Sam’s mind, but he didn’t ask any of them. He could see Dean wasn’t ready to talk about it -maybe he never would be, and hell if Sam would do anything to upset him right now.
There was some fussing and noises outside the door. Dean became immediately agitated, clearing his throat and rearranging the sheets, obviously not realizing how slow and clumsy his movements were.
“I… you know… M’not sure m’ready to see Ellen or huh… Bobby yet. Just Sue, maybe?”
The insecurity in his voice broke Sam’s heart. He nodded and went to get Sumiko, praying she wouldn’t be taken aback by Dean’s appearance.
::: :::
Sam was gone for a long time.
It seemed like it anyway.
Dean tried to gather himself together. There was a new pain, deep in his chest, that didn’t have anything to do with the pneumonia.
Why was everything so hard?
He’d been rescued. Angie was okay. The baddies were death and burned to a crisp.
And despite all this, he felt defeated. He felt like he’d failed everyone. He was there, lying in a freaking homemade hospital room, barely able to move on his own, tied to more machines than he could count, and thirty weeks pregnant.
The Dean who had been looking for his father, who had fought for his family so fiercely, who had sold his soul to save his brother, what was left of him?
He was someone else, now, someone fragile, breakable, a freak who was bringing another human being into the world, exposing her to the dangers of the life he lead.
What was he doing? What the hell did he and Sam think they were doing? They had no idea how Angie’s power would manifest once she was born, but if there had already been an attempt to harm her even before she had the chance to take her first breath.
If he couldn’t even protect her now…
Dean didn’t have a lot of memories from the last days of his captivity. It was a haze of pain and exhaustion, of desperation. He did remember, however, each and every time Charlotte had reveled herself to him, had gone through him, hurting every fiber of his body, making him feel… violated. With her intimacy. That’s how he felt still. Like he’d been stained, like Charlotte had left marks all over him, inside and out,, invisible but making him ache with the need to wash himself, to drink a gallon of holy water and eat as much salt.
She’d touched his baby, nesting inside him, she’d hurt her at some level, while Dean too incapacitated to do anything more than beg for her to stop hurting his baby.
And now he was scared to death that Sumiko wouldn’t want to see him, that she would sense how weak and fragile he was. She might even be scared of him. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror, but if he looked as bad as he felt, maybe she would simply burst out crying.
He needed to cough, but did his best to restrain it. Didn’t want his daughter to have to watch him cough up a lung, face beet red, bent over his belly in a freaking hospital gown.
Just as he was taking a careful breath in, the door of the room opened and, suddenly, he couldn’t breathe anymore. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her until he saw her, wearing those apple green pants that were starting to get too short for her and the bright yellow top Sam had bought at the beginning of May. Her tiny sandals were covered in grass stain and she had a mosquito bite on her left ankle. Dean took everything in, the way she had buried her head in Sam’s neck, sucking her thumb, looking unsure and distant. She had a tiny braid on the right side of her head, so neat it could only be Ellen’s work.
“Look who’s here, Sumi?” Sam whispered at the same time Dean succeeded in letting out a choked-up “heyyy…”
Sue’s head lifted up, her mouth opened in a small “O” and she looked straight at Dean. Then, a large smile lit up her small, thin face and she looked at Sam, stuttering “dadadee-dee” in an over-excited voice, shaking her head quickly from left to right and wiggling in Sam’s arms like a fish out of the water.
Dean was glad he was still under some dull drug high or he would’ve burst into relieved tears like the freaking wuss he was.
Sam looked relieved too, smile all in dimples and his cheeks pink. He got closer to Dean, trying to restrain Sumiko when she literally screamed Dean’s name and stretched her hands in front of her, close to tears.
Dean needed her close to him as well. He very slowly shifted on the bed to make some space for Sue and opened his arm. “Sam. C’mon.”
“Yeah okay, but you gotta be quiet, Sue? See, quiet,” Sam whispered in an exaggerated quiet voice, practically tip-toeing his way to the bed while Sue waited, both of her hands covering her mouth and babbling something that sounded like “shshsh.”
That was new. Dean wondered if he’d missed anything else. Sue was as much an extension of him as Angie was. He’d spend every day with her since her birth, and the tiniest change he’d missed felt like he’d been betrayed somehow.
Sam was still holding Sumiko by the waist as he sat her on the bed. She was quiet, looking at Dean with wide eyes, the intensity of her emotions passing through them. Then, she did something that caught Dean completely off-guard. She wiggled until she lay on her side, her head on the pillow, facing Dean, a couple of inches away from his face. “Daa-dee,” she murmured, pressing her small hand very softly on Dean’s cheek.
And Dean felt a little better. Like he belonged right there with his daughter looking at him with amazement. Still so strong and giant in her eyes.
“Hey, monkey,” he croaked, and it hurt to swallow back his tears, but he did it, and when Sam turned his head and cleared his throat, Dean knew he was doing the same thing.
::: :::
He slept. Ellen came to see him later, a comforting combination of harsh huntress and mother hen. Bobby remained in the doorway, smiling gruffly, and there was something in that bearded, gruff smile, that put Dean more at ease, like Bobby had just said, “don’t worry, we’ve got issues but we’ll managed”.
Maybe if Dean could deal with his own issues, could put all the crazy events of his abduction behind him, maybe then, it was still possible. Normalcy. Making peace with himself. Being an adequate father.
He slept that day, almost peacefully, his health too messed up for him to dream, which wasn’t a bad thing. He lost all concept of time and at some point in the evening, he was woken up by his toned-down, but ever present, hunter's instinct. There were murmurs, and one person, even though she was speaking almost inaudibly, sounded angry.
Rania.
Dean cracked an eye open. She was at the foot of the bed with her back to him. Sam had his head bent next to her. His profile was serious and worried.
“… There have been some cases of foetal death, or stillborn babies after an electric shock,” Rania snapped.
“Yeah, but it has never been proven that the electric shock was the cause.”
“Oh come on, Sam!”
“What does it change? Is there something else we can do about it?”
“No, but your brother-“
“Has enough to worry about, right now.”
“Sam. You have no right to keep this from him. I have no right. He isn’t incapacitated. The taser shock, added to the stall in foetal development and the placental abruption are all serious risks to the baby’s health, and I don’t even know if that spirit did anything to her… “
Dean felt like icy water was sliding all over him, freezing his bones, his brain. His anger built up fast. He tried to take a deep breath and opened his mouth to yell at Sam, damn the freaking pneumonia and his weakened state.
You had no right to keep this from me, he said.
Except nothing came out. The words stayed trapped in his throat. They were too painful to say out loud, so was the shame of not having been able to protect Angelia.
There were no more murmurs. Sam was looking at him, his face red and covered in sweat. Maybe he had spoken out loud, after all. His eyes were open. He didn’t remember opening them.
“Dean, you awake?” Sam asked, the fucker, looking as innocent and soft as a lamb.
“Shit,” Rania swore.
Shit, Dean thought, but couldn’t say it.
Chapter 13