SPN: Still In There (Wee!Chesters) 1/1
SUMMARY: Seven-year-old Dean's recovery from his blow to the head continues. Has he been permanently impaired? Written for the hc_bingo square "Wild Card (hospital stay)".
This was the longest the Winchester family had stayed in one place since Mary's death - and John just wished that the reason why was a happier one.
John's seven-year-old son Dean had taken a bad fall several weeks earlier and had struck his head. He had been knocked unconscious and had bled for nearly nine hours before his school called the house and woke John up.
It had been just a terrible accident, but it had also been touch and go for a long while. The relief when Dean had woken up had been immense.
The horror when Dean could - or would -- not speak was even more immense.
And then, the testing began. Physical and mental tests, for days and weeks.
Dean would often just stare. He would often react to stimuli with gutteral noises, if he reacted at all. The doctors began to fear his intelligence had been affected by the blow to his head.
Dean now lived at the hospital, while the doctors monitored him and tested him and gave him every kind of therapy they could - except for drug therapy, which John had almost violently opposed - in the hopes that something would break through to the silent little boy.
John wasn't alone. Bobby Singer and Pastor Jim Murphy both flew in to give him support. They both knew of John's legendary temper, and made sure it was directed at them and not the doctors or his sons.
Sammy was ecstatic - two uncles had joined the family! He missed Dean very badly, though, and the highlight of the three-year-old's day was when he was allowed to go play with Dean.
This was something the doctors and therapists encouraged, as that seemed to be when Dean engaged more with his surroundings. Whenever Sammy was around, Dean was better.
While this baffled the doctors, it gave John a tremendous amount of hope. His goodbye to Dean when he left to take Sammy home every day was always the same. A kiss to the forehead and a calloused hand gently stroked the straight blond hair as his voice whispered, "You're still in there somewhere, huh, Buddy? You're safe. It's okay to come back."
He would wait a few moments, then he would leave the room, never looking back. Sammy always looked over his shoulder and waved.
But every time, Dean would turn his head and watch him go. After three weeks, Dean began to attempt a wave back.
After five weeks, he succeeded.
But it was another day before any adult would listen to Sammy when he told them Dean waved. And it was the therapist who saw the sullen child repeat it for the twentieth time, his arms crossed defiantly and his lower lip jutting out. The therapist took him by the hand and led him into the room. "Dean," she said with a smile. "Look who's here!"
Dean turned his head. A small smile crossed his lips and his hand lifted and gestured.
Sammy lit like a Christmas tree. "I told you! I told you!" He raced over and threw his arms around Dean's waist.
The therapist smiled up at John as Dean's head lowered, his cheek resting on top of Sammy's head as his arms slowly went around his little brother's shoulders. "There seems to be nothing wrong with his intellect, Mister Winchester. If I had to guess, I'd say he was in shock all this time. Little brother seems to be the best therapy for him right now."
"He always was," John breathed, running a hand down his face and repeating, barely above a whisper, "He always was."
END
This was the longest the Winchester family had stayed in one place since Mary's death - and John just wished that the reason why was a happier one.
John's seven-year-old son Dean had taken a bad fall several weeks earlier and had struck his head. He had been knocked unconscious and had bled for nearly nine hours before his school called the house and woke John up.
It had been just a terrible accident, but it had also been touch and go for a long while. The relief when Dean had woken up had been immense.
The horror when Dean could - or would -- not speak was even more immense.
And then, the testing began. Physical and mental tests, for days and weeks.
Dean would often just stare. He would often react to stimuli with gutteral noises, if he reacted at all. The doctors began to fear his intelligence had been affected by the blow to his head.
Dean now lived at the hospital, while the doctors monitored him and tested him and gave him every kind of therapy they could - except for drug therapy, which John had almost violently opposed - in the hopes that something would break through to the silent little boy.
John wasn't alone. Bobby Singer and Pastor Jim Murphy both flew in to give him support. They both knew of John's legendary temper, and made sure it was directed at them and not the doctors or his sons.
Sammy was ecstatic - two uncles had joined the family! He missed Dean very badly, though, and the highlight of the three-year-old's day was when he was allowed to go play with Dean.
This was something the doctors and therapists encouraged, as that seemed to be when Dean engaged more with his surroundings. Whenever Sammy was around, Dean was better.
While this baffled the doctors, it gave John a tremendous amount of hope. His goodbye to Dean when he left to take Sammy home every day was always the same. A kiss to the forehead and a calloused hand gently stroked the straight blond hair as his voice whispered, "You're still in there somewhere, huh, Buddy? You're safe. It's okay to come back."
He would wait a few moments, then he would leave the room, never looking back. Sammy always looked over his shoulder and waved.
But every time, Dean would turn his head and watch him go. After three weeks, Dean began to attempt a wave back.
After five weeks, he succeeded.
But it was another day before any adult would listen to Sammy when he told them Dean waved. And it was the therapist who saw the sullen child repeat it for the twentieth time, his arms crossed defiantly and his lower lip jutting out. The therapist took him by the hand and led him into the room. "Dean," she said with a smile. "Look who's here!"
Dean turned his head. A small smile crossed his lips and his hand lifted and gestured.
Sammy lit like a Christmas tree. "I told you! I told you!" He raced over and threw his arms around Dean's waist.
The therapist smiled up at John as Dean's head lowered, his cheek resting on top of Sammy's head as his arms slowly went around his little brother's shoulders. "There seems to be nothing wrong with his intellect, Mister Winchester. If I had to guess, I'd say he was in shock all this time. Little brother seems to be the best therapy for him right now."
"He always was," John breathed, running a hand down his face and repeating, barely above a whisper, "He always was."
END