Sabbatical March 1996--SPN 2/3 (complete)
Oct. 27th, 2010 05:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
borgmama1of5Title: Sabbatical, March 1996
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
borgmama1of5 Summary: A hunt gone bad, and John is faced with an untenable situation.
Wordcount: 11,200
Genre: h/c, Teen!chesters (John, Dean, Sam)
Rating: PG13
Beta: Cheerleader extraordinaire,
sandymg Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would have given them a happier childhood
(All parts linked)
Part 1:
http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/48905.html
Six god-damned hours. John sends Sam to the cafeteria with a handful of cash to get something to eat, and Sam brings back a cup of the sludge-masquerading-as-coffee for him. One mouthful is all John can take.
“Mr. Winchester?”
Sam shoots to his feet as if he can make the doctor say what Sam wants to hear by physical assertion alone.
John feels a responsive twinge as the doctor rolls his shoulders. He waits for the man to speak — demanding the information won’t change what it is.
“The surgery went well. I was able to shift the T12 vertebrate to its correct position. In my best judgment the bone did not cause any damage to the spinal cord. What we don’t know yet is whether there will be any residual impairment from the extensive swelling. He was moved after the injury, wasn’t he?”
“There was a fire. There weren’t any options,” John says coldly, feeling like he’s being accused of breaking Dean.
A head shake of acknowledgement. “He’s in recovery. Someone will get you as soon as he’s conscious.”
“Can we see him now? Please?” Sam sounds all of six-years-old as he asks, and John’s hand is on Sam’s shoulder without thought.
The doctor appraises them with tired eyes. “Please?” John adds his own voice to the request.
Whether the surgeon caves to the weight of Sam’s plea or John’s doesn’t matter. He nods. “Follow me.”
John has seen Dean after surgery before. But that doesn’t stop the wave of anxiety at seeing his firstborn tethered to six different tubes and wires, the freckles that are just background on Dean’s face now unavoidably noticeable on the transparent skin. Dean’s chest moves in shallow hitches as he breathes, but other than that he is too still. No restless shift of his head, no twitching adjustments of his legs …
Sam again goes right to his brother’s side and takes his hand. John ignores the tears he sees pooling in Sam’s eyes. If he does not sit down he is going to fall and he looks around for a seat, manages to collapse in the room’s only chair and then sits, staring, the image of Dean caught under the burning cabinet on repeat in his head.
His butt is numb. All of John is numb when he hears a muffled groan and Sam whispers, “Dean?”
He’s too far gone to jump up and be at Dean’s side like he needs to be, instead, John staggers cautiously like a drunk until he can steady himself on Dean’s bedrail.
All John Winchester can do now is wait.
-------------------
It’s been four days. Four fuckin’ days without much change. Dean is pretty out of it for the first couple. On the third day John makes Sam go to school and then sits in the hospital room by himself. Dean seems to be coming around to awareness of where he is, but it isn’t until the afternoon of the fourth day that he talks to John after the doctor’s visit.
Dr. Yugasumi has been all business, touching Dean’s feet and legs and asking “Can you feel this, or this?” to which Dean’s answer is always no.
“It’s still too soon to determine if the paralysis is permanent,” the doctor says finally. “Although I’m a little concerned that you aren’t getting any sensations, it has taken as long as two weeks for some patients to recover feeling, so I’m going to have physical therapy start up this afternoon. We don’t want the muscles to atrophy while the body is putting itself back in order.”
Once he leaves, Dean looks John in the eyes for the first time. “How’re we doing this, Dad?”
John looks at him with puzzlement.
“I’m pretty fucked up, Dad, and if … if I don’t get better I’m gonna be here a while. We can’t keep an insurance scam going that long.”
Christ, what a thing for Dean to worry about.
“You’re not here under a fake name, Dean. I made the decision to explain we’re uninsured, and I’ll be working it out with the hospital.”
So many emotions flash across his son’s face, and John can’t begin to interpret half of them. He waits for Dean to say something else, but he doesn’t, only closes his eyes and seems to fall back into the state of semi-consciousness he’s been in most of the time. John watches for an hour, slides around in the plastic chair trying to get comfortable, and finally gives up.
He stands, walks over the Dean’s bed, and studies the silent face.
There is nothing for him to do here, John thinks. He needs to start figuring out his next steps. Because it looks like they may be in this city for a while. Since Dean is asleep, he doesn’t bother saying anything when he leaves.
---------------------------------
Sam is angry when he finds out that John is not staying in the hospital with Dean anymore. John’s explanation, that there isn’t a damn thing he can do for Dean, and he needs to find some kind of work to pay for staying here doesn’t mollify Sam.
“He needs you, Dad, you’re supposed to be with him right now!”
“I’m not gonna discuss this with you any further, Sam. When you’re my age, you’ll see that the world doesn’t stop at your convenience. There’s nurses and orderlies and therapists all taking care of Dean because it’s their job and they know what to do for him. The best thing I can do for him is to find the money to pay for it. And the best thing you can do for your brother is to stop fighting with me so I can concentrate on what I have to do!”
John actually has an interview that afternoon with the owner of a car repair shop within walking distance of the apartment they’re staying at. John wonders if he can get the guy to pay him under the table. It’s a delicate thing to negotiate, but he’s had to do it before.
He decides to check on Dean before he goes to the repair shop. Dean might want to hear that John is going for a job working on cars, it’s something Dean did last summer.
As John is walking from the elevator he hears Dean talking to someone.
“So if I don’t start feeling things soon, it’s pretty much over, then?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that, Dean.”
“Look, I don’t want the bullshit story like there’s always hope, and if I work hard I can still have a normal life. Normal for my family … well, if I can’t walk I’m no use to them. So someone like me, no money, no insurance, what happens to ‘em?”
John’s breath catches.
“There’s no reason you can’t go home, Dean. A house can be made wheelchair accessible, you’ll be able to go to school, have a normal life.”
Dean’s voice is low and intense. “Just tell me what happens if there is no family to go home to? If, if I was an orphan or something?”
Whomever Dean is talking to is clearly disturbed as she answers. “I’m … I don’t understand, why do you think you would be on your own?”
“Look, when the hospital is done letting my ass sit here without getting any money for it, what will they do, roll me out to the curb and leave me there?”
John is taken aback by the vehemence of Dean’s question. The woman speaks in a halting voice.
“If someone is indigent, or has no family, the state puts them in the Medicaid program. You’re a minor, so you … a minor becomes a ward of the state. Either way, you … the individual goes to a nursing facility for care, and stays there … as long as necessary.”
A long moment of silence. “Fuck.” Then, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it at you, I’m … Are we done?”
“Yes, we’re done with the physical therapy for now. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” The painful gentleness in the words nearly eviscerates John. He steps aside as a small blonde woman leaves the room.
“Dean.”
“Dad.” Dean looks away from John’s face. John decides blunt is the best way to handle this.
“I overheard you with the therapist. Why are you asking her what would happen if you were alone? Sam and I are here.”
John can see Dean swallow hard before he speaks. He seems fascinated by the blank bulletin board on the far wall.
“Look, Dad, I know it can’t work.”
“Just what are you thinking won’t work, Dean?” It comes out a little angry, which John didn’t intend, but it makes Dean look at him finally.
“I can’t hunt in a wheelchair. Oh, yeah, I could help with the research. And you can take Sam with you when you go after shit like the ghost that did this to me. Don’t think so, Dad. You’ve got no place for a cripple with what you do, and I know that.” John starts to shake his head in protest, but Dean keeps going. “Bullshit. If I don’t get my legs back you have to leave me. You said you heard her … Turn me over to the state. They’ll put me in a home.” John watches appalled as Dean fights to keep tears from spilling.
It’s almost a whisper. “You and Sam … could visit … once in a while?”
He doesn’t know what to say. That Dean thinks John would just give up on him … it hurts. And yet, even as John is thinking he would never leave Dean in some nursing home, the truth that Dean can’t hunt in a wheelchair is snaking through his mind.
“So what are you going to do? Give up then? I thought you were tougher than that.” Even as they leave his lips, John knows these are the wrong words, but he doesn’t have any others.
Dean doesn’t respond, and it goads John into continuing. “You’re calling yourself a cripple already, but the doctor hasn’t declared you one yet, so fight, goddammit!” Your son is not a Marine screams through his head, but John is out of options. He struggles to control his fear of a permanently paralyzed Dean.
“I’m getting a job at the repair place near the apartment,” he says to calm himself down. “Since it looks like we’ll be here a while.” No acknowledgement from Dean. “Least it’ll keep Sam from complaining about switching schools again.”
“Yeah.”
He has to do something … John puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, gives a firm squeeze. “I’ll be back later.”
“I’ll be here.”
John wants to gag on the bitterness he hears.
----------------------
He drops Sam at the hospital Thursday after school and then goes back to the garage. John decides to bring a pizza with him when he heads back to see Dean that evening. First payday. And the boy has to be sick of hospital food by now.
Half sausage-and-pepperoni, half onions, peppers, and mushrooms. And god forbid the toppings overlap. Well, those are the slices he gets.
John knows something’s wrong as soon as he enters Dean’s room. Sam’s pressed against the side of the hospital bed, his shoulders hunched and shaking.
“No, Dean!” Sam is saying.
“You gotta do it, Sammy. Dad needs someone …” Dean goes silent as he sees John in the doorway. “Dad,” he says, a little louder than necessary. John sees Dean quickly squeeze Sam’s wrist – a warning, securing an agreement – John can’t tell which.
He’s going to ignore all of it. John is too fucking tired to figure out what is going on between his boys. He holds out the pizza box. “Interested?”
“Hell, yeah!” Dean’s grin is real for that moment. “I’m so sick of carrots and Jello!”
Dean moans in delight as he inhales his portion of the pizza in record time. He rubs his fingers on the blanket, leaving smears of tomato sauce.
“Your chin,” John motions and Dean raises his hand to wipe it, but Sam passes him a napkin before the gesture is completed.
John only eats a couple pieces, figuring his boys like the grease more than he does, and Sam, who takes the time to chew before swallowing, is still working on his share, when Dean ‘ums’ to get John’s attention.
“What, Dean?”
“So, Dad … I think … So it looks like I’m gonna be laid up here for … a while … and I know that being stuck in one place, well, that messes up your … your work … and I want you to know I’ll be okay so you can take Sam and move on.”
The bleakness in Dean’s eyes totally contradicts the words.
“Dean! That’s not –“
“Shut up, Sammy. We talked about this all right? I may be fucking stuck here but the shit we hunt is still out there and Dad’s gotta go after it!”
Unreasonable anger flushes up in John, and he isn’t quite sure at what. He tries to push it aside. Dean needs him, and his son has to come before hunting.
Sam cannot be curbed from expressing his opinion. “Dad! You can’t …”
John cuts him off with one word. “Sam.”
He meets Dean’s gaze unflinchingly. “I’m not leaving.”
And Dean has the audacity to argue with him. “Dad, I know you were looking into that case in Mississippi. And …”
“I already turned it over to Caleb.”
“But …”
John stands up and moves close to the head of the bed.
“I’m the parent, here, Dean, and I will decide my own comings and goings. I’m staying here until you walk out of this hospital. So get your ass in gear and move it. Because we’re here till you do. Do you understand me?”
And even as he says it, John knows what he is saying is wrong, he didn’t mean it to come out like he’s accusing Dean of shirking. He just …
Sammy’s distressed “Dad!” cuts, but not nearly as painfully as the stricken look Dean gives him. John can’t unsay it and he can’t think how to fix it so he cuts his losses. “Come on, Sam, it’s time to leave.”
“Dad!”
“You’ve got homework to do, and I have to get up for work early.”
Dean has wiped all expression from his face and his eyes are shuttered. John rests his hand on Dean’s arm briefly and says, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” but Dean’s face doesn’t change. He doesn’t acknowledge the contact so John takes his hand back, and with a furious Sam, leaves.
He deserves every murderous look Sam gives him the rest of the night.
_________________
When Dean doesn’t make any progress after three weeks, the doctor orders another MRI and then has a meeting with John.
“The swelling around the spinal cord has not completely subsided, and it appears the initial surgery to reposition the vertebrae that were moved out of alignment was not totally successful. I believe that a second surgery is in order.”
“What’s the prognosis if you do that?”
“I can’t promise anything, Mr. Winchester, every spinal cord injury is each unique. However, given that Dean has not recovered any feeling or movement after this long, without the surgery he has probably recovered as much as he is going to.”
“So it’s a choice between staying like he is or a chance at getting better?”
Dr. Yugasumi nods. “That’s a pretty succinct summary, except that all surgery carries risk.”
“Any chance the surgery could leave Dean in worse shape?”
The doctor purses his lips. “I want to say no. But I have to be honest and say again, there is always that chance of something going wrong, like encountering a variation on physiology that the MRI can’t show.”
“Would you do it if it was your kid?”
Dr. Yugasumi doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
John makes the decision to go with the surgery. What he hasn’t considered is Dean’s reaction.
Dean leans against his pillow, sinking into it in that way makes him seem to shrink. There’s a tension in his bearing, in the tightness of his shoulders, wariness in his eyes whenever Dean looks at his father now. And John knows he put it there with his unthinking words. Doesn’t know how to make it right. But tonight is a different battle.
“You say the doc wants to operate again?”
“Yeah. Your MRI showed there’s still swelling. An’ it looks like they didn’t align everything right the first time. That’s why … you don’t feel anything. Yet. But this will—“
“No.”
“Come again?”
“I don’t think so, Dad. We can’t afford another surgery and it’s not gonna make a difference.”
“But, the doctor said—“
“What did the doctor say?”
Sam.
Sending Sam to the hospital cafeteria was supposed to give John time to talk to Dean privately. Any other day Sam would have spent twenty minutes figuring out what to get. Of course, not today. John turns to meet Sam’s mistrustful look. Christ, he’s not up to more adolescent judging.
“ ‘S nothin’, Sammy,” Dean utters before John can say anything.
“The surgeon said Dean needs another operation. He wants to realign the vertebrae again and maybe reduce swelling. Said it’ll give Dean a chance.”
“That’s great, Dean.”
“Not doing it, Sammy.”
“What?! Dad, no, you can’t. Are you saying Dean can’t have the surgery? Because that’s just … Is it the money? Dad, you can’t not let them … ”
Sam’s voice is steadily going reedier and more desperate and John’s trying to get in a word between breaths until Dean finally turns his pale face toward them both.
“I don’t want the surgery.”
Sam swallows air like a guppy. His jaw twitches and he flies closer to the bed. “What are you saying, Dean? Why not?”
“Won’t make a difference and we can’t afford it and … I … I’m tired. I just don’t want any of it any more. Sometimes, I just wish … “
John doesn’t need to hear the end of that sentence. His nightmares begin where that sentence ends. Dean and his brother are staring at each other now. John wonders if they remember he’s in the room.
Sam turns to him unexpectedly. “Did the doctor say Dean could walk if this works?”
“No guarantees, of course. But … he said there’s a chance.”
“And if he doesn’t have the surgery?”
John meets his youngest’s steady stare. “No chance.”
Sam gives a nod and John suddenly gets a glimpse at the man he’ll someday be.
“Let me talk to Dean,” Sam says and turns his attention back to his brother.
John looks from one to the other. He doesn’t need to wait for the result of that conversation. He leaves to tell the doctor to schedule the surgery.
Part 3:
http://borgmama1of5.livejournal.com/49658.html
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-28 12:15 am (UTC)Again, you are doing marvels for the way I look at John Winchester.
Not to mention your portrayal of the boys' relationship is spot-on. They have a whole other level between them that John can't touch, just like in canon.
Basically what I am saying is YOU ARE AWESOME.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-28 01:26 am (UTC)I'm glad you're seeing his inner struggle!
no subject
Date: 2010-10-28 12:36 am (UTC)you did a great work with him
no subject
Date: 2010-10-28 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 02:08 pm (UTC)“Look, I don’t want the bullshit story like there’s always hope, and if I work hard I can still have a normal life. Normal for my family … well, if I can’t walk I’m no use to them. So someone like me, no money, no insurance, what happens to ‘em?”
Oh, Dean!
It’s almost a whisper. “You and Sam … could visit … once in a while?”
*sobs sobs sobs* and DEAD READERS DON'T LEAVE FEEDBACK, you!
no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 02:23 pm (UTC)I wonder if the police will be able to trace the trail of dead live journal users back to me?
*worrying about hiding the evidence*
no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 03:05 pm (UTC)And, fortunately for the police, I don't have nearly as many stories as a lot of other writers because I've only been in fandom just over a year :)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 03:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-11 03:54 am (UTC)“Let me talk to Dean,” Sam says and turns his attention back to his brother.
John looks from one to the other. He doesn’t need to wait for the result of that conversation. He leaves to tell the doctor to schedule the surgery.
We all know this is the way it works but the way you put it is succinct and gutting.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-11 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-31 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-31 01:04 pm (UTC)Believe reduced generics without prescription
Date: 2017-01-25 07:39 am (UTC)[url=http://pharmshop-online.com]generic cialis[/url] does cialis work the first time commentaire.php?id=
generic cialis (http://pharmshop-online.com) - cialis online usa forum contains no new posts
buy british dragon cialis
no subject
Date: 2018-10-15 04:02 pm (UTC)It’s almost a whisper. “You and Sam … could visit … once in a while?”
And this is where I flat out started sobbing!
no subject
Date: 2018-10-16 03:00 am (UTC)I hope you felt a little better at the end...