I've got you, Sweetheart

Part 2

           The lobby to the hospital was full of patients waiting to be checked in. But concerning your conditions when Dean had carried you in, screaming for help, doctors and nurses had rushed you to the Emergency room, where they hooked you up with an IV bag. Fluids of morphine to help with the pain for when you woke up pumped through.

They x-rayed your whole body, finding that no bones were broken, but you would be extremely bruised for the next week or two. What they were concerned about was your brain. You were knocked pretty hard in the head. So everyone, including the Winchester brothers and Castiel had waited for you to wake up so the doctors could do some tests.

It took you almost two hours to finally rise from unconciousness. But when you did, you found yourself having trouble processing things. You could hear what the doctors were saying, but you didn't know what to say, or how to say anything.

"Ms. Moore, are you feeling any pain at all?" One of the doctor's asked, your eyes slowly trailed over to the doctor. It took a while for the words to process inside of your mind. Everything was slow, your brain hurt, your entire head was throbbing, you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out. Your voice wasn't gone, you just didn't know how to pronounce a simple no. "Honey, talk to us."

Dean stood outside of the room you were in, his brother and Castiel standing behind him with curiousity running through their veins as they wondered what was going on. The door was shut, blocking any sound that anybody was making. He looked through the small squared window on the door, allowing him to peep into the room. He noticed that your mouth was moving. It was moving slowly. Confusion had spread across your face as you looked around the room, the two doctor's that were in the room with you glanced at each other all before one of them turned to the door, stepping out of the room to explain to the three men what was going on.

When the door shut behind the doctor, that's when Dean began asking questions. "What's going on with her, doc? Is she okay?" He asked. Genuine worry sounded in his voice as he watched as the doctor's face fell into a bit of sadness.

"She will be okay." The doctor explained to three men as she nodded her head. "She has bruising along her stomach and her side, but no broken bones. Our biggest concern though..." Her words trailed off. She didn't want to worry your boyfriend. She knew this would be a hard thing to deal with.

"What is it?" Dean asked, his patience was running thin. He just wanted to know what was going on with you.

The doctor inhaled a deep breath, all before she spoke. "Her stepfather kicked her pretty hard in the head. It damaged her brain." She said. The brothers and Castiel glanced at each other. Each one of them were worried, but they still focused their attention onto what the doctor was saying. "But it's not permanent. It'll heal. But it could take months up to a year or two for her to get better. She is currently having trouble with her speech, the things people say to her, she is having a hard time processing. And you might have to teach her the things she had already learned before all over again, starting with walking, then writing, and then swimming and so on. Do not let her handle any knives or anything that is sharp until she is one hundred percent better."

Dean nodded his head at this information. He could feel his heart heavy in his chest as he tried his hardest to breathe. He looked back through the window and into the room. He could see your blank face as you stared at the wall. You had tears running down your face from the frustration and the confusion you were dealing with. You didn't know anything, any word you tried to get out, you struggled with. You couldn't even say your own name.

It was hard for Dean to see you like this. He wished there was some way to take all of this away, but he knew. He knew there wasn't anything he could do.

"How long is she going to have to stay here, doc?" Dean could hear his brother ask a question that was stuck in the back of everyone's mind.

"A week." The doctor said. "Just until her bruising is a bit better."

The entire week you were in the hospital, Dean had stayed. He had gone back to the bunker that first day to drop off his brother and Castiel and to pack up clothing for the next few days all before heading back to the hospital, where he would be spending the nights with you.

You didn't say anything to him. You either just slept, or stared at the wall. You couldn't bare yourself to eat actual food. You couldn't even say what you wanted to eat and that frustrated you.

So the doctor's would come up with a small bowl of Applesauce and some water with a straw.

The first time trying to eat your Applesauce, as you tried to put the spoon into your mouth, your hands were too shaky and you got Applesauce all over your hospital gown.

You fluttered your eyes shut and let out a sigh all before you tried again, just to make more of a mess. You dropped your spoon in the bowl in frustration all before balling your hand into a tight fist. You let out a frustrated cry, causing Dean to look away from the tv show that he was watching. He pushed himself out of the recliner that he was sleeping in and made his way over to you.

"Sweetheart, it's okay." Dean reassured you as he grabbed a napkin from the tray the doctor had brought up. He used it to wipe up the Applesauce you had spilt onto yourself all before throwing it into the tiny trash can near your bed. He then reached for the spoon and lifted it to your mouth. You looked up at him as though he was crazy. You weren't a baby. And it seemed he got your look as he spoke up again. "I want to help you. I'm going to help you get through this, I just-... need you to let me help you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you allowed the words to slowly sink into your mind. It took a couple minutes, before you slowly nodded your head, opening your mouth for him to feed you.

So he did, he fed you the entire bowl of Applesauce and helped you take sips of your water. He stayed close to you the rest of the time, helping you drink some water all until you fell back asleep.

That's how it was all week. But he couldn't really help you with taking showers. That was your doctor's job. But he helped you with everything else and he planned on helping you every day after you checked out of the hospital.