Description: IMTOD - Sam can see Dean's spirit
Kyle - December 4, 2008 07:34 AM (GMT)
One of my first multi-chapter stories.
This story’s been bouncing around in my head since I saw the spoiler stills for “In My Time Of Dying”. What if only Sam could see Dean? I’m basing it off the pics of Sam and Dean in John’s hospital room and Sam with Dean in his room. Remember this is before the show aired, so what happens in my world and in the SN world are two completely different things.
Sam walked into his Dad’s hospital room carrying a duffel bag of clothes. He saw his brother standing next to the window, “Hi Dean,” he said before he turned around and threw the duffel onto his Dad’s bed. Dean turned around with a shocked look on his face.
“Sam did you just say ‘Hi’ do your brother?” John asked.
“Yeah, he’s over there next to the window,” pointed Sam.
“Can you see me Sam?” Dean walked closer to his brother.
“Of course I can see you Dean,” Sam replied before turning back to their Dad, “what do you mean ‘Did you just say Hi to your brother’ Dad? He’s standing right next to me.” His Dad just stared at him with a concerned look on his face. “What? Can’t you see him?”
“No Sam, I can’t see him. Are you okay? Do you have a concussion?”
“Sam.” Dean laid his hand on Sam’s shoulder and it went right through.
Sam shivered slightly. “Dad I don’t have a concussion. Dean’s right here next to me.”
Dr. Jack Behr listened to the conversation inside John Mueller’s hospital room. He grew concerned about Sam Mueller’s mental state as the conversation progressed.
“Dean’s not there Son.”
“Your brother’s in a coma remember? He’s in his room down in the ICU pod.”
Dr. Behr decided to step in, “Mr. Mueller I see that you are awake. How are you feeling?” he asked as he walked past Sam and over to John. He put on his stethoscope and listened to John’s breathing and heart rate. “No difficulty in breathing Mr. Mueller?” John shook his head. “And how about you Sam? How are you feeling? Any nausea…headaches...dizziness?”
“Good, good. Now I’d like to talk to your Father alone if I might. Have you eaten anything? The cafeteria is serving quesadillas today and they’re pretty good,” he said smiling at Sam.
“I’m not hungry, thanks.”
John gestured for Sam to leave, “Sammy why don’t you go visit with your brother,” his eyes shifted between Sam and the empty space next to him, “in his room.”
“Sure, see ya Dad.” Sam turned away from John and Dr. Behr and glanced at Dean before leaving the room.
“Mr. Mueller I’m concerned about Sam’s mental state.”
“I’m sorry but I overheard the conversation between you and your son. Sam seeing his comatose brother in here and conversing with him, that isn’t a good sign. I think that he might be having a psychotic episode.”
“You listened…psychotic…our conversation was private Doctor,” John replied angrily.
“Mr. Mueller I apologize.” Dr. Behr held his hands up in a placating manner and tried a different tactic. “Has Sam been under a lot of stress?”
John stared at the wall for a few moments, “his girlfriend died in an apartment fire about a year ago. Sam would have died too if Dean hadn’t pulled him out. But he seems to have pulled himself back together.”
“Does he feel guilty for surviving the fire?”
“What? Why would he feel guilty?” asked John, “the fire was an accident and there was nothing he could have done to save Jessica.” John got annoyed, “Doc drop it. Sam and Dean are very close and he just misses talking to his brother.”
“Mr. Mueller there is nothing shameful about needing psychiatric help and I believe that Sam could benefit by being seen by our resident Psychiatrist. He’s having hallucinations and if the worst was to happen and Dean died…”
“Dean isn’t going to die!” John interrupted loudly.
“I’m talking about a worse case scenario Mr. Mueller. If Dean dies it could cause Sam to have a full psychotic breakdown. He could possibly become suicidal.” Dr. Behr did his best to make John see that Sam needed intervention now and that burying his head in the sand would not help Sam.
“No.” John’s tone indicated that any further discussion would be loud and futile. Being a former Marine had its uses.
Jack recognized a lost cause when he saw one, excused himself and left the room. He wasn’t going to drop Sam’s case and was determined to help the young man even if his Father didn’t think it was necessary. He pulled out his cell and called a friend in the Psychiatric Department. “Autumn? Its Jack, I have a favor to ask. I have a patient, Sam Mueller, I believe he has a delusional disorder but his Father refuses to see it. He’s seeing and talking to his brother…his brother is in a coma…yes he talks back like he’s having a regular conversation. Dean Mueller - room 308. Thanks, I owe you one. Sure. Thanks again.” He snapped his phone shut and went to get ready for what he knew was going to be a knock-down-drag-out fight for Sam’s mental health.
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Sam sat on the bed and watched his brother’s unconscious body, a respirator gently hissed in the background. “Dean,” he looked up at Dean standing next to the bed, “you’re a spirit. How in the hell am I seeing your spirit?”
“I don’t know Sam you’re the Ghost Whisperer of the family. I’m just glad you can otherwise I’d be driving myself nuts trying to get your attention.”
“It must be because of my psychic abilities I guess.” Sam rubbed Dean’s arm. “But what good are my abilities if you’re stuck in a coma? It isn’t like I can guide you back to your body, cause you’re here and,” he gestured at Dean’s unmoving body, “you haven’t been sucked back in.”
Dean rubbed his face. “Geez Sammy,” Dean stopped and looked around, “hey you haven’t seen any other spirits floating around have you?”
“Dean how could I tell? You look pretty solid to me; except when you do that,” Sam pointed to Dean’s hand as he waved it through the monitors attached to his body. “Dean stop, you’re creeping me out.”
“Okay, okay. So, no book titled For the Recently Deceased lying around and no Grim Reaper showing his fugly face. So what the hell is going on?”
“Maybe you need to atone.”
“Atone? Are you freakin’ nuts Sam? Atone for what? Killing evil sons of bitches is my job and I’m not going to apologize for it,” growled Dean.
“Dean it was just an idea,” Sam yelled back, “I don’t know what the hell is going on. I don’t know how to bring you back!” Sam got up and kicked a chair against the wall; he ran his fingers through his hair and turned back to Dean. “I don’t know what to do Dean.”
“You need to calm down Mr. Mueller,” said a woman walking into the room wearing a white lab coat. Sam and Dean turned and stared at the woman. “You need to come with me right now Mr. Mueller. You’re disturbing your brother.”
“Disturbing my bro…lady he’s in a coma,” Sam said pointing at Dean. “Jessica Alba could come leaping through here wearing a string bikini and he wouldn’t wake up.”
Dean grinned at the image of Jessica Alba in a string bikini before he hurried around the bed and stood between Sam and Lab Coat Lady. “Sam,” warned Dean. Sam glanced at Dean and then back to the woman.
“I’m Doctor Autumn Dareem, the resident Psychiatrist. Doctor Behr called me in to consult on your case.”
“Sammy, I think the crap has hit the fan.”
“My case, huh,” Sam laughed, “well Doc you’ve been misled. There’s nothing wrong with me that my brother waking up from his coma wouldn’t cure.” He started to walk towards the door when Dr. Dareem stepped in front of him. “Doc get out of my way. I need to go talk to my Dad.” He looked down at her and she stared back up at him and didn’t move, so he grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her out of his way, more or less gently, and went out the door and into the hallway. He stopped when he saw two bulky orderlies leaning against the central nurse’s station.
“Mr. Mueller, I must insist.” Sam turned and glared at her. “You are having auditory and visual hallucinations. You must be properly evaluated and medicated before I can allow you to see your brother again. He isn’t safe around you right now.” She nodded at the orderlies and they moved in to take Sam by the arms. Unfortunately for them Sam’s reaction wasn’t exactly what they expected. The first orderly took an elbow in the stomach and right hook to the jaw. The second orderly managed to grab Sam around the shoulders from behind but Sam pushed himself backwards and squashed the man into the wall. When he released his grip Sam pulled away, turned around, grabbed the orderly’s head and shoved it down as he brought his knee up and broke the man’s nose, he let the man slide to the floor. Sam heard Dr. Dareem on the phone as he ran off. When he rounded the corner to the corridor leading to his Dad’s room, Sam caught sight of three orderlies loitering outside his room. He quickly stepped back and peeked around the corner. He leaned back, closed his eyes for a minute and banged his head against the wall, “damnit.” He peeked around the corner again.
“Aaah!” Sam involuntarily yelled and jumped back. “Dean!”
“Sam run!” yelled Dean as the three orderlies came running down the corridor. Sam’s yell had alerted them to his presence.
Sam looked up the corridor, “crap,” and took off running. He ran down another corridor, around a corner, through a set of doors and right into two more orderlies. They fell down in a heap of arms and legs. Sam managed to get to his knees and deck one orderly before the three that had been chasing him showed up. An orderly grabbed him from behind and hauled him upright. “Get off me, damnit!” he yelled as he kicked out and connected with the two orderlies trying to grab his legs, knocking them down. He grabbed one of the arms around him, forced it up to his mouth and bit down hard. The orderly screamed and let him go.
“Sam, behind you,” shouted Dean.
Sam spit, wiped his mouth and went two steps before he was tackled from behind. All the air was forced from his lungs as the orderly who had tackled him landed on his back. Coughing and trying to catch his breath, he kicked out with his legs, attempting to wriggle out from under the man who outweighed him by 40 pounds. “Aaah!” he rasped as his arms were twisted up behind his back. The orderly flipped them over and Sam kicked out as his legs were grabbed and held tight. “Let me go!” Sam struggled and yelled as they lifted him off the ground and onto a gurney. He threw his head back and connected with the orderly’s mouth, the pain caused the man to relax his grip slightly but not enough for Sam to get loose.
“Doc hurry up,” yelled one of the orderlies holding Sam’s legs.
Sam craned his neck around and saw Drs. Behr and Dareem running through the doorway. “Sam, what are you doing?” asked Dr. Behr grabbing ahold of Sam’s upper arms and pushing him down.
Sam struggled harder; his kicking caused the gurney to crash against the wall repeatedly. “Let me go! Now!” he yelled in Dr. Behr’s face.
“Mr. Mueller calm down!” Dr. Dareem took a syringe out of her pocket and pulled the cap off the needle, “Jack hold him still.” She pulled Sam’s jacket off his left shoulder, pushed his shirts out of the way, and cleaned his skin with an alcohol wipe.
Sam’s eyes widened as the needle came near him, “No, No, No.”
“Leave my brother alone!” Dean grabbed at the syringe but his hand passed right through. “f***!” He threw his hands up in disgust.
“Nnnnah,” Sam clenched his eyes shut in pain as the needle went into his shoulder and he felt the burn of the medication as it was injected into him. He opened his eyes and looked into the concerned faces around him. His breath came in gasps and his struggles weakened. “Dean,” he whispered, “help.” Sam’s head and body felt heavy and sluggish. Dr. Behr was talking and his voice sounded far away.
“Sam you’re alright. Don’t fight it.” Jack watched as Sam’s body relaxed, his eyes slid shut and his head rolled to the side. “You can let him go now guys. Thanks for your help. Craig how’s your lip?” he asked the orderly pulling Sam’s arms out from under his body and straightening them out on the gurney.
“I’ll live Doc,” he said touching his lip gingerly, “that kid is stronger than he looks.” Craig turned to the orderly sitting on the floor. “Come on Sa’id, let’s get you down to the ER and get that bite taken care of.”
“Crazy kid,” replied Sa’id cradling his arm as they walked away.
“Sammy I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Dean said walking next to the gurney as Sam was transported to the Psychiatric Unit. He noticed that one of the cuts on Sam’s face had broken open and bled. “How am I going to get you out of this?” He watched over his little brother as the orderlies transferred Sam from the gurney to a bed, stripped off his clothes and shoes and dressed him in orange scrubs. “Hey guys you’d better put his t-shirt back on. He isn’t happy unless he’s wearing at least two shirts at all times,” Dean said to no one in particular. “God, no.” He reached out to grab the nearest orderly when they started buckling cuffs around Sam’s ankles and wrists and one wide strap across his upper arms and chest. The orderlies spread a blanket over Sam and left as a nurse came in with a chart, first aid kit and an IV tray. The nurse cleaned the blood off Sam’s face and closed the cut with a butterfly bandage. She took his temperature, breathing and pulse rates and marked the results on her chart. She started an IV in Sam’s right hand, adjusted the drip rate and exited the room. “Damnit Sam, I gotta go see Dad. He has to get you out of here. I’ll be back soon.”
Redk5 - December 4, 2008 03:11 PM (GMT)
poor Sammy, too bad he's the only one who can see Dean... Dean has to get angry and full on Swayze'd something to save his brother
supernaturalfreak8 - December 5, 2008 05:13 AM (GMT)
I can't believe they think Sam's crazy...well it is people that doesn't know anything about the supernatural so I guess they would think he is crazy for seeing his brother's spirit. I'm liking this story so far...please continue soon :)
Kyle - December 5, 2008 06:42 AM (GMT)
Thanks guys. :) Psychiatrists and the supernatural are like oil and water. The psychiatrist will always try to rationalize away the critter currently munching on them. While the critter just wants them to shut up so it doesn't get the hiccups.
I don’t think that the Doctors received the memo about not pissing off the Winchesters.
Spirit – Chapter 2
“YOU DID WHAT?” yelled John as he stalked towards Drs. Behr and Dareem.
“Mr. Mueller please lower your voice,” demanded Dr. Dareem. “Your son is in dire need of psychiatric help. He called his hallucination ‘Dean’s spirit’ and the reason that he could see this ‘spirit’ is because he’s psychic.”
John stopped in his tracks. “Did you just say Dean’s ‘spirit’?”
“Yes I did Mr. Mueller,” replied Dr. Dareem. “Sam got violent and kicked a chair across the room and into a wall when Dean’s ‘spirit’ didn’t agree with him. And he attacked seven orderlies when I told him he had to accompany me and that he couldn’t be around his brother until I felt he wasn’t going to harm him.”
“That was definitely the wrong thing to say Doctor Dareem. Dean and Sam don’t take to being forcibly separated very well,” John informed the Doctor harshly.
Dean ran into the room in time to catch his Dad’s harsh retort. “You got that right Dad. You should have seen him Dad, Sammy took out four guys. He would have made it here if three more hadn’t tackled him and these two assholes,” Dean pointed at the Doctors, “hadn’t drugged him.”
John then rounded on Dr. Behr, “I told you that Sam didn’t need any psychiatric help and I don’t appreciate you going behind my back.”
“I did what I thought was necessary for your son’s mental health Mr. Mueller. You refuse to see that Sam needs help.” Dr. Behr pointed out into the corridor, “you didn’t see him out there, he was completely out of control! He broke Connor’s nose, bit Sa’id’s arm and gave Craig a split lip for heaven’s sake.”
“And what was Sam doing when he supposedly went out of control and attacked seven orderlies?”
“He was coming to see you,” admitted Dr. Dareem.
John walked over to Dr. Dareem and towered over her. He asked her in a very hostile tone, “and you decided that he couldn’t come to see me because…?”
“Because in my opinion he is a danger to himself and others. His reaction to being stopped from seeing you demonstrated that my opinion is sound. I have admitted him under a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold. You are permitted to see him, under supervision of course, but he will not be released without my orders. He will be medicated as I see fit and will be restrained until he is no longer a safety risk to himself, you or his brother.” She added in an insulting tone, “do I make myself clear?”
John glared at Dr. Dareem. His look would have cowered most people but it just caused Dr. Dareem to jut her chin out and glare back at him. Dr. Behr eyed John’s clenching and unclenching fist. “Mr. Mueller please, think of Sam. The next seventy-two hours could give him perspective and help him cope better with Dean’s condition.”
“My condition? Why you little…” Dean swung at Dr. Behr who involuntarily shuddered and stepped back as a cold breeze went through him.
“Seventy-two hours and not a minute more and you never touch him again,” John growled, he turned his back to Dr. Dareem and pointed his finger at Dr. Behr, “I want Dean removed from your care immediately. I don’t want either of you near him again.” He turned back to Dr. Dareem, “I want to see Sam now!”
“When you have calmed down…”
“Fine.” Dr. Dareem turned and walked towards the door, “follow me,” she said crisply. She led them to the Psychiatric Unit and unlocked the door using her hospital ID card. “This door stays locked at all times Mr. Mueller. If you want to see your son, you must make an appointment first and you will be escorted to a family visitation room.” She stopped at Sam’s door, unlocked it and walked into the room.
John stood in Sam’s room, his eyes tearing at the sight of his youngest son strapped to a bed, unconscious and vulnerable. “Leave us…please.”
“Mr. Mueller I can’t allow…”
Jack grabbed Autumn’s arm and pulled her out of the room. “Sure, but the door stays open Mr. Mueller.”
“Jack what are you doing?” Autumn asked in an irritated voice as she yanked her arm out of his hand.
“Saving you from getting your dignity handed to you on a shovel Autumn. You won this round. Now let John have some time alone with Sam.”
“He has fifteen minutes.” She turned and walked to the nurse’s station, grabbed Sam’s chart and wrote up her orders for his care. Jack walked a short way down the hallway and stood in front of a window overlooking a park and waited for John to come out.
“Sammy, I’m so sorry for not believing you.” John ran his hand through Sam’s hair and finger combed his bangs over his forehead. “Dean inherited your Mother’s eyes but you inherited her wavy hair.” He grabbed a chair, sat down, pushed back the blanket and held Sam’s left hand. “I didn’t…I didn’t think that your abilities would allow you to see Dean’s spirit. I just thought it was a hopeful wish on your part.”
“I didn’t think so either Dad but guess what? We were both wrong.” Dean pointed out as he leaned against the wall facing his Dad. “And now Sam is drugged up to his eyeballs and I’m still not in my body.”
John rubbed his eyes; he looked around the room and spotted the CCTV camera. “Well Dean, maybe it’s a good thing nobody but Sam can see you. I’ll call around, see if there is some rite or spell to help bring you back. Please Dean, watch over Sammy.”
“Always Dad.” Dean walked over and placed his hand through John’s shoulder.
John shivered and smiled, “thanks Son.” He sat there slowly rubbing Sam’s hand until a nurse came in and told him his time was up. John left the room and Dr. Behr escorted him back to his ward.
“I’ll get the paperwork started to transfer Dean’s care over to Doctor Tripp Flannery.” John didn’t even look at Dr. Behr before turning into his room. Jack opened his mouth to say more but decided that the least said the better and continued to his office.
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Sam slowly opened his eyes and lazily looked around the dim room. He tried to sit up but something around his chest stopped him. “What?” Confused, he looked down at his blanket covered body and tried to raise his hands but they seemed to be tied down as well. He was able to pull his knees up but not his feet. Sam was fully awake now. “What the hell?” He turned his head to the right and saw an IV bag - he looked to his left and saw a barred window. “crap!” it all came back to him, the accusation, running, the fight. He pulled desperately at the straps holding him down. “f***!”
“Sam its okay, calm down.”
“Dean?” he looked up into his brother’s concerned face.
“Yeah, how you feeling?”
“Stiff, head hurts and I gotta pee.”
Dean glanced up at the camera, “you’re on Candid Camera Sammy,” he said with a smile.
Sam looked up, grinned and started yelling, “Hey! I gotta pee here! Hey somebody! I’m going to make a mess if somebody doesn’t get in here and let me up! I gotta peeeee!”
The night nurse looked up at Sam’s monitor when she heard his muffled yells. “Tova, bedpan duty in room six, Sam Mueller.”
“Great. Is he cute?”
The night nurse looked at Sam’s chart, “he’s twenty-three. Does that help?”
Tova laughed, grabbed the appropriate equipment and went to check on the new psych patient. She unlocked the door and turned up the lights. Sam stopped yelling and blinked at the bright lights. “Good Evening Mr. Mueller, my name’s Tova and I hear that you need to use the restroom.”
“Yeah. Can you please let me up?”
“Well sweetie, Doctor Dareem left orders that you were to remain restrained until your first meeting with her at 0800 tomorrow. So sorry, I can’t let you up.”
“Then how am I going to pee?” Sam asked unhappily. Dean started to giggle because he could see where this was heading.
“Bedpan sweetie.” Tova pulled the blanket off Sam.
“Oh God, no way in hell. Please, just let me up so I can use the bathroom,” begged Sam.
“Sam, I’ve raised two younger brothers and three sons. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. So don’t be embarrassed,” Tova reassured him.
Dean fell to his knees laughing, “oh god Sam. You should see your face!”
Sam looked at Dean with murder in his eyes, “this isn’t funny Dean! Just leave okay; I can’t do this with an audience.” Sam shut his eyes and groaned.
“Sam who’s Dean?”
“My irritating big brother,” replied Sam. “Who had better leave right now before I start talking in great detail about the catheter shoved up his…”
Dean held his hands up in surrender, “okay, okay, I can take a hint.” He shuddered at the thought of the catheter and left the room.
“You ready sweetie?”
“No, not really,” groaned Sam. Tova pulled his pants and shorts down and slid the bedpan into position. “Yeow that’s cold.” Tova turned around to give Sam some measure of privacy and he finally relaxed enough to relieve himself.
“Feeling better?” asked Tova after she cleaned him up, pulled his shorts and pants back up and covered him with the blanket. She dumped the bedpan in the toilet, rinsed it out and washed her hands. Tova checked Sam’s IV, “looks like you need a new bag Sam. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She came back with a new IV bag and a syringe.
“What’s that for?” Sam asked indicating the syringe.
“Doctor’s orders Sam. Something to help you get some rest.” Tova replaced the IV bag and injected the syringe’s contents into the IV port.
“I don’t want…” Sam kicked his feet and pulled at the restraints.
“Sam don’t fight it.” Tova stroked his forehead, “sshh…sshh.” Sam’s movements stilled. “There, there sweetie you’ll feel better soon.” She adjusted Sam’s rumpled blanket, “yep, definitely cute,” dimmed the lights and left.
supernaturalfreak8 - December 5, 2008 07:58 AM (GMT)
lol I'd be busting out laughing to :lol: man sometimes I wonder if some doctors are really for the greater good. Anyway, great update :)
dmartins - December 5, 2008 10:52 AM (GMT)
Love it! Please continue the story.
Kyle - December 6, 2008 06:30 AM (GMT)
So true snf8, so true.
Everything I know about the medical field I learned from M*A*S*H, St. Elsewhere, ER, the SciFi Channel and to a very small extent General Hospital. Anja asked me to show a pronunciation guide for her name -(On-ya)- she hates having her name mispronounced.
Spirit – Chapter 3
Sam was allowed to get up and use the bathroom the second time he awoke. After having his IV port capped, he had just enough time to wash his hands and face before he was escorted to the ward’s common area for breakfast. An orderly, Todd, sat across from him while he ate his scramble eggs, toast and juice. Dean sat down next to Sam and tried to snag a piece of toast. “Hey,” Sam slapped at Dean’s hand and thwacked the table, “ouch,” he shook his hand. Todd shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sam looked around the room noting the number of exits, CCTV cameras and staff. He noticed that over in the corner that one patient wasn’t dressed in the same orange scrubs as the other patients. She was a teenage girl, dressed in black, she sat with her legs dangling off the back of her chair, her back on the seat and her long hair hanging down, her arms were crossed over her chest and she occasionally made a high pitched squeaking sound. “What’s her problem?” Sam asked pointing in the girl’s direction.
“That’s Anja; she thinks she’s a bat.”
“And the Doc says I’m nuts,” Sam mumbled.
“Time for your meds.” Todd stood up and pointed, “take your tray over there.” Sam dropped his tray off and was taken to a small window. “Sam Mueller,” Todd told the pharmacist.
Sam was handed a small brownish pill and a dixie cup of water. “What’s this?”
“Swallow voluntarily or by force, kid. Your choice.”
“Should I slug him Sam?” asked Dean.
Sam shook his head and looked at Todd. He glanced around and saw that some of the other orderlies had heard the exchange and were ready to back up him up. Sam tossed the pill into his mouth and swallowed the water. “Open up kid.” He opened his mouth and Todd grabbed his jaw, “lift your tongue,” Sam complied and he let him go. “Okay kid, lets go see the Doc.”
Sam sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand on an uncomfortable chair in Dr. Dareem’s office while Dean leaned up against the wall and looked out the window. Dr. Dareem sat behind her desk and shuffled some papers, “how are we feeling today, Mr. Mueller?”
“Is that the royal we or do you really care Doc?” snorted Sam. Dean lifted an eyebrow and smiled.
“I care Sam. May I call you Sam?”
Dr. Dareem pressed her lips together. “Sam have you seen your brother today?”
“You had me strapped to a bed and drugged so it was kinda hard to go see him,” he said scratching around the IV port.
“I mean can you see him now, in this room.”
Sam sat up and looked slowly around the room. “Dean do you want to admit to being here?”
“Sure why not. Ask her where she keeps her liquor.”
“Dean says yes and wants to know where you keep your liquor.” Sam shifted on the chair; his butt was slowly going numb.
“Why would you want to know that Sam?” asked Dr. Dareem curiously.
“I don’t - Dean does.” Sam pushed his fingers through his hair. “Why are you making such a big deal about me seeing my brother? It isn’t like I’m seeing red-eyed demon squirrels jumping out of trees and attacking intrepid explorers.” Sam stood up and walked around the office looking at the items the Doctor had lying around. He found a stress ball, picked it up and leaned against the credenza.
Dean snorted loudly, “that’s bad Sam, very bad.” Sam grinned.
“Red-eyed demon squirrels? Where do you see these squirrels Sam?”
Sam laughed, “geez you don’t listen very well Doc. I never said I saw demon squirrels. Except when I’m watching Xiao Lin Showdown on Cartoon Network, that is, when I can get the TV remote away from Dean and his obsession with MythBusters.”
“Kari’s hot and she wants me.”
“In your dreams dude.”
“She comes to me in her little red plaid skirt Sammy.”
“Dude TMI!” Sam shook his head and squeezed the stress ball a couple of times then he tossed it at Dr. Dareem, “think fast.”
She caught the ball one handed. “Cartoon Network? Sam you aren’t taking your problem seriously,” chastised Dr. Dareem. Dean stood behind Autumn and made talking motions with his fingers causing Sam to giggle. “Your delusion isn’t something to laugh at, it is a dangerous mental disorder and can be life threatening.” Sam winced and rubbed his stomach. “Sam are you listening to me?”
“Yeah. You think that I’m hallucinating and not taking what you are saying seriously.”
“How can you take anybody named ‘Autumn’ seriously?” Dean muttered. “Hey ask her if she has a sister named Summer.”
“Dean, no.” He held tightly onto the credenza, bowed his head and grimaced as his stomach cramped again. “What’s the colrop…cloropro…”
“What is that stuff supposed to do to me Doc? Besides give me stomach cramps?”
Dr. Dareem made some notations in her notebook, “it’s an antipsychotic, it will stop your hallucinations and help calm you down.”
“Heh doesn’t seem to be working. I can still see Dean…” Sam started to breathe fast and he broke out in a sweat.
“Hmm, interesting. You’re argumentative and still hallucinating at this dosage.” She made another notation in her book. “Looks like I’ll have to increase it. Now getting back to your brother; do you feel guilty for causing the accident that hurt him?”
“What? No! We got hit by a semi…I didn’t even see it,” he rubbed his stomach.
“Uh huh,” she replied in a skeptical tone. “Now answer me truthfully Sam, did you drive out in front of the semi intentionally, trying to commit suicide? Or did you just want to murder your family?”
Sam’s head snapped up and his mouth dropped open, he stared at the Doctor in disbelief, “you’re a Grade A bitch, you know that?” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. “crap.”
Dean noticed Sam’s odd behavior and walked over to him, “Sammy are you having a vision?”
Dr. Dareem was getting annoyed, “Sam stop the act! You’re not getting out of this session that easily. I’ve seen it all. Now answer the question - did you try to commit suicide when you drove out in front of that semi!”
Sam glanced up at his brother, his eyes glassy, “I don’t feel so good Dean.” Sam slid to the floor and gasped for breath.
“Sam!” When she didn’t get a reply she got up, walked over to him and asked uneasily, “Sam?” She put her hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”
“I…I…can’t breathe,” he wheezed and passed out, falling over onto his side.
“Do something Doc!” yelled Dean. He noticed a red rash creeping up the back of Sam’s neck. “crap. Sam?”
“Medical emergency in my office,” Autumn yelled into her office phone. She hurried back to Sam, pulled out her stethoscope and rolled him onto his back. Dr. Dareem listened to his breathing and checked his pulse. Several nurses came running; one was pushing a cart, into Dareem’s office. “He’s going into anaphylactic shock, give me .3mL of epinephrine.” As she injected the epi into Sam’s IV port, a nurse placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and hooked him up to a heart monitor. Two orderlies arrived with a gurney and Sam was loaded up and transported to the ER.
The elevator doors had just opened when Sam stopped breathing. “Bag him,” yelled Dr. Dareem as the gurney was pushed into an ER room.
“What happened Autumn?” asked Dr. Natalia Vallejo as she rushed into the room. She helped move Sam from the gurney to the ER bed.
“He’s having an anaphylactic reaction to Chlorpromazine. I gave him .3mL of epinephrine in my office and he stopped breathing when we reached this floor.”
“How long after ingesting the Chlorpromazine did he start having symptoms?”
“Half an hour, he complained of stomach cramps and had trouble breathing.”
“Stop bagging him.” Sam didn’t start breathing on his own. “Damn. Push another .3mL of epi, start a corticosteroid IV and I need an intubation tray.” Dr. Vallejo tilted Sam’s head back, slid the tube down his throat and hooked him up to the ventilator. She listened to Sam’s lungs, “good breath sounds.”
“Damnit Doc you did this to him!” Dean yelled at Dr. Dareem. He pushed her and she stepped back from the coldness with a gasp. He was so pissed that anger radiated off him in waves. Before he knew what was happening he felt his body start to float and he felt light headed. Then everything went black.
IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII
“Dean are you here?” asked John sitting next to Dean’s unconscious body. “Son, I’ve looked through my journal and I’ve called Joshua and Bobby. So far nothing looks promising but I don’t want you to give up. Keep fighting Dean.” Dr. Flannery knocked on the door before entering the room. “Doctor.”
“Hello Mr. Mueller. I have Dean’s test results and it looks like his brain wave activity has increased.”
“Does that mean he’ll be waking up soon?”
“I don’t know. He’s getting stronger but he still has a severe head injury. The results are promising but he still has a ways to go.”
John sighed. “What about Sam? Can I see him now?”
Dr. Flannery looked uncomfortable, “I sorry no. Doctor Dareem has him scheduled for a one-on-one therapy meeting for most of the morning and some tests after that. She said maybe in the late afternoon if he’s up to it.”
“You’re welcome.” Dr. Flannery’s pager went off. “Excuse me, I need to get this.” He walked over to the wall phone and called the number off his pager. “This is Tripp Flannery, I received a page. What? Dear God. We’ll be down soon…which room is he in…thanks.” He rubbed his eyes before looking over at John. “John I have some bad news. Sam’s been admitted to the ER he...”
John stood up, “Sam’s been what?” he ran out of Dean’s room.
“Slow down, please John,” said Dr. Flannery as they ran down the stairs. They arrived in the ER and John started to go from room to room looking for Sam. “He’s in room five.” He pointed to the last room on the left.
“Sammy?” John said as he entered the room. “What the hell happened?” he demanded from the people in the room.
Natalia stepped forward, “Mr. Mueller I’m Doctor Vallejo, Sam had a severe allergic reaction to his antipsychotic medication. He stopped breathing so he’s on the ventilator and his heart rate is to slow so he’s on a heart monitor. He’s had two injections of epinephrine and we have him on an IV of corticosteroids. We are keeping a very close eye on him.”
John turned on Dr. Dareem, “YOU! You did this to my son!
Autumn looked at John for a minute and left without saying a word. John would have followed her if Tripp hadn’t stepped in front of him. “John stop. Sam needs you now.” John turned back and walked over to his son.
“What are his chances?” He laid his hand on Sam’s head.
“We have to wait and see Mr. Mueller,” said Dr. Vallejo. “He still has the Chlorpromazine in his system and we just have to treat the symptoms as they appear.”
“We just can’t seem to get break can we kiddo,” John sighed as he sat down next to Sam’s bed.
Kyle - December 7, 2008 04:51 AM (GMT)
The wrath of Dean – gotta love the guy. Just in case anyone was wondering IXII = 911. Thanks to everyone for the reviews.
Spirit – Chapter 4
Dean became aware that there was something in his throat making it difficult to breathe. Choking, he reached up and felt a tube going into his mouth and tried to pull it out. He opened his eyes when he heard a man’s voice yelling at him to stop and his hands were pulled away from the tubing. “Mr. Mueller stop. Don’t struggle, you’re on a respirator,” the nurse said loudly as he tried to catch Dean’s frantic eyes. “Page Doctor Flannery, stat!” he yelled over his shoulder.
Tripp came running with John a step behind him. “Damian what happened?” he asked the nurse holding Dean’s hands down.
“I found him choking and trying to pull out his intubation tube.”
John grabbed one of Dean’s hands, “Dean you’re okay. Calm down.”
“Dean, I’m Doctor Flannery. Just hold on a minute and I’ll get this tube pulled out.” He pulled the connection to the respirator off the tube and turned off the machine. “Dean I need you to take a deep breath, hold it and breathe out as I pull out the tube.” He moved to the head of the bed and looked Dean in the eye, “are you ready?”
“Huh ya.” Dean took a deep breath and blew out as directed while Dr. Flannery pulled the tube out. He coughed and spit out phlegm after the tube was removed.
“Are you alright Son?” John asked anxiously.
“Yeah,” Dean rasped, he looked around and up at Dr. Flannery, “can you get this thing out of my nose and…” he looked under his blanket, “ah geez, this catheter out? I need to go see somebody.”
“Dean, uhm Sammy is…”
“In the ER, yeah I know Dad. Go back to him, he needs you right now. I’ll be down soon.”
“Dean how did you know?” asked Dr. Flannery.
“Doc, please just get this stuff out of me.” The removal of the catheter topped Dean’s list of ‘Humiliating Things That Happened To Me This Week’ and if Sammy mentioned anything about it he was going to have to remind him of big brother’s prerogative. After the nurses left with a warning to take it easy and to call them when he was ready to go see his brother, he peeked out of the doorway and walked slowly to the Psychiatric Unit. He pushed the buzzer outside the door and demanded to see Dr. Dareem, “tell her that it’s Dean Mueller and I know what she did to Sammy!” subtlety was not a Dean trait. Dr. Dareem acquiesced to his ‘request’ and Dean was escorted by Todd to the Doctor’s office. Todd stood guard inside Dr. Dareem’s office. “Leave Todd.” Startled Todd looked at Dr. Dareem for permission, she nodded.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me Doc,” said Todd glaring at him. Dean just gave him a hard stare and Todd closed the door.
Dr. Dareem sat down and indicated that Dean should sit also. “So Mr. Mueller, it’s nice to see you up and…”
Dean stood in front of the desk, “shut it lady.”
“Mr. Mueller, I…”
“Lady, shut your pie hole! Let me explain some things to you about my baby brother. First, he doesn’t lie, when he said that he saw my spirit, he saw my spirit. It wasn’t a hallucination. Second, he didn’t attack your orderlies, they attacked him and you are very lucky that he didn’t put you through a wall. Third, telling him that he isn’t taking you seriously is a crock, no one takes you seriously.” Dean placed his hands on the desk and leaned over, right into the Doctor’s face. “Fourth, if you ever again imply that he intentionally drove out in front of that semi in a suicide attempt or to kill Dad and I, you had better hope to God that I don’t find out. But guess what? I know all about it you stupid bitch. I stood here and watched my baby brother go into anaphylactic shock and the only thing you could say was ‘Stop the act’,” he said in a deadly growl. Dr. Dareem’s eyes widened in fear, she reached for the phone. Dean grabbed her hand, “and what do you think you’re doing?” he said with malice.
“Sam told you this. I’m calling the ER,” Dean let her hand go and she dialed a number, “Natalia is Sam awake?”
“No, he’s still unconscious. Why?”
“Thanks.” She looked up at Dean, white faced and shaking. “How did you know?”
“As I said, Sammy wasn’t lying. He could see me and I followed him around.” He walked around the desk and turned the Doctor’s chair to face him. “I saw you drug him, tie him to a bed, imply suicide, and ignore his allergic reaction. If Sammy doesn’t make it NOTHING on this Earth will save you.” Dean pushed her chair against the wall and loomed threateningly over her; he looked her straight in the eye. “Do I make myself clear?”
Autumn tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Nothing came out when she tried to talk so the only thing she could do was nod yes.
“Good. You will now release Sammy from your seventy-two hour psych hold and never come near him again.”
IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII IXII
Dean arrived in Sam’s room in a wheelchair pushed by Dr. Flannery. “Dean where have you been?” John asked as he stood up.
“I found him walking, and I use that term very loosely, here from a little visit to Doctor Dareem. He’s promised to lie down and rest after he’s visited his brother,” replied Dr. Flannery as he pushed the wheelchair up to Sam’s bed.
Dean reached out and placed his hand on Sam’s arm. “How’s Sammy doing Dad?” He noticed that the rash had spread up to Sam’s face and down his chest and arms.
“He’s still not breathing on his own Dean.” John sat back down on his chair. “He hasn’t needed any more epinephrine but they gave him some antihistamines to go along with the second IV of steroids.”
“Corticosteroids,” corrected Dr. Flannery. “His hives aren’t spreading anymore but it will still be a few more hours before all of the Chlorpromazine is out of his system.” He looked directly at Dean, “when you are ready to go to your room, page a nurse and you will be wheeled back. You are not to walk back Dean. Right?”
“Okay Dad. I will page a nurse to wheel me back to my room. Happy?”
“Ecstatic. I will check in on you later.” Dr. Flannery started to leave the room but he stopped in the doorway, “Dean.” He looked back at the Doctor. “If Sam is half as strong as you he will be alright.”
Tripp smiled and left the room. Dean glanced over at John. “Dad.”
“Doctor Dareem released Sammy from the seventy-two hour psych hold.”
“Good.” He sat there for a minute, thinking. “Did you threaten her?”
“Good.” They sat there watching Sam and listening to the gentle hiss of the respirator. Dean eventually fell asleep with his head resting against Sam’s hip. John got up and dug around in the cabinets until he found a blanket and covered Dean up. He placed his hand on Dean’s head for a moment, “I’m glad your back Son.” He sat back down in his chair and prayed for his boys.
A low moan woke John from a light doze. His head came up and he heard the moan again. He stood up and placed his hand on Sam’s chest, “Sammy? Sammy, can you open your eyes for me?” Sam’s eyes moved under his eyelids. “Come on Sam wake up. Dean’s out of his coma and wants to see you.” His head moved a little and he moaned again. John shook Dean’s shoulder, “Dean wake up. You need to talk to your brother and help him wake up.” John pushed the nurse call button.
Dean awoke with a jerk. “Sam.” He looked over at John, “Dad?” and then down at his brother. Sam moaned again and jerked his legs. “Sammy time to wake up,” he said putting his hand on Sam’s forehead, “Sammy.” Sam slowly opened his eyes. “Hey Francis,” he smiled, “finally decided to come back to the land of the living, huh.” Sam’s eyes slid away from Dean and over to their Dad. He wrinkled his forehead in confusion and lifted his hand to the intubation tube. Dean lowered Sam’s arm, “leave it alone Sam, it’s helping you breathe.”
“Son do you remember what happened?” asked John. Sam’s eyes rolled back and forth between the two men, he shook his head slightly. “You had an allergic reaction to the medication that Doctor Dareem prescribed.”
Sam closed his eyes for a second then looked up at the ceiling. Dean squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “It’s alright Sammy,” he turned his eyes to look at Dean, “she isn’t coming near you again.”
A nurse came into the room saw that Sam was awake and picked up the phone, “page Doctor Vallejo to ER room five.” She walked over to Sam, “I’m going to take your pulse.” She wrote the results down on a chart and grabbed a thermometer, “now I need to take your temperature,” she said as she placed it in his ear.
“What is it?” asked John.
“One hundred point six.”
Dr. Vallejo arrived in the room in time to hear the nurse’s answer. “A low fever is normal Mr. Mueller.” She walked over to Sam, “hi Sam, I’m Doctor Vallejo. I’m going to disconnect the respirator to see if you can breathe on your own.” She put on her stethoscope and listened to Sam’s breathing, “very good. I’m going to remove the tube now alright?” He nodded. “Okay, take a deep breath and blow as I pull it out. One, two, three blow.” Sam choked and gagged as the tube was removed. He sat up coughing while Dean patted him on the back.
“Dean, you’re back,” he croaked.
“In the flesh.”
“Sam, we are going to get you moved into a regular room…”
Dean interrupted, “MY room.”
“As I said, we’ll get you moved into Dean’s room. You’re still going to feel the effects of the anaphylaxis so no getting up and running around the hospital like a certain older brother.” Natalia gave Dean a look indicating that she knew exactly what Dean had been up to.
“Uh, I’ll make sure Sam doesn’t get up.”
“Dean what did you do?” Sam asked lying back down on the bed.
“He almost passed out in the corridor after having a little visit with Doctor Dareem,” replied Dr. Flannery as he walked into the room, “I heard that you had woken up Sam. How are you feeling?”
“Crappy.” Sam looked at the rash on his arms and winced; he turned his head towards Tripp, “who are you?”
“Doctor Flannery. I’ve taken over Dean’s care from Doctor Behr.” He turned to Dean, “so are you ready to go back to your room?”
“I’m going to wait for Sam.”
Natalia replied, “it’s going to be at least an hour before Sam is moved up so go back to your room and rest Dean.”
“Dean go, I’ll stay with Sam,” said John.
“Okay. Just remember Sammy, my room, my remote.”
“There’s a MythBusters marathon on tonight isn’t there?” Sam rubbed his eyes.
“Kari wants me Sammy,” grinned Dean as Dr. Flannery wheeled him out of the room.
supernaturalfreak8 - December 7, 2008 02:34 PM (GMT)
LOL Dean just being the typical Dean...love that :D
Redk5 - December 7, 2008 02:35 PM (GMT)
I don't want it to be over