WFA: 6/?
Winchester Family Angst
Chapter Six; January, over a year later
Dean groaned as he opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh white light. Everything hurt and even without moving he could tell his ribs were bound. A catalogue of other aches and pains didn’t help answer the question of what hurt the most, and Dean figured the damage was pretty much spread out evenly over his body like someone had known how to make him hurt the most but cause the least amount of permanent damage.
“Doctor! He’s awake!” A nurse yelled and the sound make Dean flinch away from her, reminding him once again of just how damaged he was.
Moments later a white coated stranger with a clip board and a fake smile sidled up to him. “Hello, Mr. Swanson, I’m your admitting doctor, Dr. Ridgeway. Your uncle brought you in, told us you’d gotten into a fight with a stranger and filled out all the forms for you. I’m afraid to tell you that you had concussion, along with two cracked ribs, a split scalp which we’ve glued back together, as well as a broken nose, split lip, black eye, bruises all over your body and your kidneys were damaged although you’ll make a full recovery in six weeks with almost all of your injuries healed in just a few days. We’d like to keep you in for a further forty eight hours, and of course the police are interested in talking to you as well,” the man informed him.
Shit. Now Dean remembered. It was the day after his twenty seventh birthday and his dad had tracked him down for a ‘birthday present’. Ever since John had revealed his nasty little secret to the rest of the makeshift hunter-clan no one had had anything to do with either Dean or John, and John blamed his son. Every time they were together it ended this way, Dean just considered himself lucky that he’d consented to giving his father a blow job before the beatings had begun or else he’d be having a whole different conversation about rape right now. It did mean, however, that Dean was burning through fake IDs and insurance faster than he could forge them. This was the fifth time in just over a year. He either had to cover his tracks better or start defending himself.
“The police? Dude, I don’t even remember... I must have been really drunk or something,” Dean mumbled out, replying on autopilot even as he assessed the likelihood of escaping the hospital before the police arrived.
The Doctor frowned. “Is that your story? Sorry Son but I ran your bloods, while its true you had ingested alcohol prior to your arrival here, you definitely weren’t drunk. I suspect, even, that some of the bruising occurred before you had the alcohol...”
That was also John’s pattern. Cram some alcohol down Dean’s throat to try and make it look like he was intoxicated and to help with the pain. “Look, man, I’m sorry but I don’t remember the fight... I’m passing through and I’m not going to be in town long enough to cause any more trouble okay? So I suggest you just release me and I’ll be on my way.”
Dean met the Doctor’s eyes. The other man sighed. “Fine, I see I can’t do anything to change your mind, but the police are still going to want to talk to you. Since your plans are travel I’m strongly recommending that you stay another night here since most of the medication that you’re on has side effects such as drowsiness and nausea. In the morning I’ll prescribe you some gentler painkillers and send you on your way, deal?”
“Deal.” Dean agreed knowing that the police would be unlikely to arrest him when there was no second party and it looked like he received the worst of the beatings making him the victim, and he was in no rush to get anywhere and no state to drive. He just needed some sleep, and god knows it wasn’t like anyone out there was looking for him. Or cared.
“Jess, honey come on or we’ll be late!” Sam yelled up the stairs at his fiancée, smiling when she came running down them dressed sensibly in black jeans, a pink t-shirt and a black leather jacket, gun holstered at her hip and a bag of hunter’s tool in her hand which she threw into the car. It had been nine months since he had asked her to marry him, and six since he had told her the truth. At first she had run off, slept in a hotel and even considered calling the cops on her crazy fiancé the demon slayer. But when she had calmed down she had come back and asked for proof because she loved him and couldn’t bare for him to lie to her, even if it was only because he was insane. That night they’d driven to Pastor Jim’s and he’d sat her down and explained it all. Sam had known she would respect the word of a religious man since she had been raised Catholic even if she didn’t believe anymore.
“I’m coming, I’m coming. Are you sure this time?” She asked, heart in her eyes. He knew she didn’t want him to get hurt again, but it was also that she really cared. Which was why he loved her.
“Bobby sent me the lead. I think it’s really him. I think it’s Dean.”
...
Link to chapter seven...
Chapter Six; January, over a year later
Dean groaned as he opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh white light. Everything hurt and even without moving he could tell his ribs were bound. A catalogue of other aches and pains didn’t help answer the question of what hurt the most, and Dean figured the damage was pretty much spread out evenly over his body like someone had known how to make him hurt the most but cause the least amount of permanent damage.
“Doctor! He’s awake!” A nurse yelled and the sound make Dean flinch away from her, reminding him once again of just how damaged he was.
Moments later a white coated stranger with a clip board and a fake smile sidled up to him. “Hello, Mr. Swanson, I’m your admitting doctor, Dr. Ridgeway. Your uncle brought you in, told us you’d gotten into a fight with a stranger and filled out all the forms for you. I’m afraid to tell you that you had concussion, along with two cracked ribs, a split scalp which we’ve glued back together, as well as a broken nose, split lip, black eye, bruises all over your body and your kidneys were damaged although you’ll make a full recovery in six weeks with almost all of your injuries healed in just a few days. We’d like to keep you in for a further forty eight hours, and of course the police are interested in talking to you as well,” the man informed him.
Shit. Now Dean remembered. It was the day after his twenty seventh birthday and his dad had tracked him down for a ‘birthday present’. Ever since John had revealed his nasty little secret to the rest of the makeshift hunter-clan no one had had anything to do with either Dean or John, and John blamed his son. Every time they were together it ended this way, Dean just considered himself lucky that he’d consented to giving his father a blow job before the beatings had begun or else he’d be having a whole different conversation about rape right now. It did mean, however, that Dean was burning through fake IDs and insurance faster than he could forge them. This was the fifth time in just over a year. He either had to cover his tracks better or start defending himself.
“The police? Dude, I don’t even remember... I must have been really drunk or something,” Dean mumbled out, replying on autopilot even as he assessed the likelihood of escaping the hospital before the police arrived.
The Doctor frowned. “Is that your story? Sorry Son but I ran your bloods, while its true you had ingested alcohol prior to your arrival here, you definitely weren’t drunk. I suspect, even, that some of the bruising occurred before you had the alcohol...”
That was also John’s pattern. Cram some alcohol down Dean’s throat to try and make it look like he was intoxicated and to help with the pain. “Look, man, I’m sorry but I don’t remember the fight... I’m passing through and I’m not going to be in town long enough to cause any more trouble okay? So I suggest you just release me and I’ll be on my way.”
Dean met the Doctor’s eyes. The other man sighed. “Fine, I see I can’t do anything to change your mind, but the police are still going to want to talk to you. Since your plans are travel I’m strongly recommending that you stay another night here since most of the medication that you’re on has side effects such as drowsiness and nausea. In the morning I’ll prescribe you some gentler painkillers and send you on your way, deal?”
“Deal.” Dean agreed knowing that the police would be unlikely to arrest him when there was no second party and it looked like he received the worst of the beatings making him the victim, and he was in no rush to get anywhere and no state to drive. He just needed some sleep, and god knows it wasn’t like anyone out there was looking for him. Or cared.
“Jess, honey come on or we’ll be late!” Sam yelled up the stairs at his fiancée, smiling when she came running down them dressed sensibly in black jeans, a pink t-shirt and a black leather jacket, gun holstered at her hip and a bag of hunter’s tool in her hand which she threw into the car. It had been nine months since he had asked her to marry him, and six since he had told her the truth. At first she had run off, slept in a hotel and even considered calling the cops on her crazy fiancé the demon slayer. But when she had calmed down she had come back and asked for proof because she loved him and couldn’t bare for him to lie to her, even if it was only because he was insane. That night they’d driven to Pastor Jim’s and he’d sat her down and explained it all. Sam had known she would respect the word of a religious man since she had been raised Catholic even if she didn’t believe anymore.
“I’m coming, I’m coming. Are you sure this time?” She asked, heart in her eyes. He knew she didn’t want him to get hurt again, but it was also that she really cared. Which was why he loved her.
“Bobby sent me the lead. I think it’s really him. I think it’s Dean.”
...
Link to chapter seven...