Running Up That Hill Δ SPN [2]

001. FALLEN ANGEL

The three Winchesters sit around Sam's hospital bed. Sam lies in the bed, unconscious, a tube in his nose and he's connected to a heart monitor.

Libby stares at her father's face, her cheeks stained with dry tears. Ophelia stares at the ground, her leg anxiously bouncing up and down, and she's biting the inside of her cheek.

Dean sits on the other side of the bed, his hands clasped together over his mouth as he stares at Sam worriedly.

~ ~ ~

"The MRI shows massive internals burns affecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived. The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm." The doctor explains.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." Dean quietly says.

"If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but--"

"He'll be dead." Dean says.

"Technically, yes. I'm afraid so." The doctor says, giving sympathetic looks to the three.

"So, there's-- there's no recovery? I mean, there's no bounce back. There's no nothing." Dean says.

"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now." The doctor says.

"You're a doctor. You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell me that my brother's life is in God's hands? What, is that supposed to be a-a comfort?" Dean asks.

"Mr. Dougherty--"

"No, God has nothing to do with this equation at all."

"I didn't mean--"

"That's not good enough." Dean walks out of the room.

"I'm sorry." The doctor tells the girls. Libby is still staring at Sam's face, seeming to be in a trance. Ophelia manages her best polite smile at the doctor who leaves.

+++

They're still in Sam's hospital room and Dean is leaning against the window frame, the girls still in their chairs.

A woman walks in and Dean stands up.

"Hi. I'm just gonna break the ice. Are you an angel?" Dean asks making Ophelia look at him confused.

"Sometimes I wish I were. My name is Kim Schortz, and I'm a grief counselor here at the hospital." The woman informs.

"Right. Yeah. Uh... sorry. I'm just tired. Well, all due respect, but, uh, I'm not grieving -- not yet at least, so..." Dean trails off.

"I'm afraid, as hard as this may be, this might be a good time to talk... about the inevitable." Kim says.

"Look, I'm sure you're a nice person and that you mean well, but "inevitable" -- that's a fightin' word where I come from. There's always a way." Dean says.

"And I am a prayerful woman who believes in miracle as much as the next, but I also know how to read an EEG. And unless you're telling me you have a direct line to those angels that you were looking for--"

She's cut off as Libby's chair scrapes against the floor, the youngest running out of the room.

"Oh. Great. Scared off a ten year old." Dean says. "And, uh... I, uh... guess I don't... have a direct line to angels. But I might have something better. I got the King of Hell in my trunk." Dean says, walking out of the room.

"Uh, is-- is that... I'm sorry. Is that a metaphor?" Kim asks. She turns to Ophelia.

"I don't plan to talk, so please, don't waste your time." Ophelia says.