Death by Life / Book Eight / The Life Series / Supernatural

I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

Dean and I had gotten Sam to the hospital.

Sam laid in his hospital bed, comatose after the aftermath of almost finishing the trials to close the gates of Hell. There was a breathing tube attached to his mouth and nose. His arm was strapped to a beeping monitor.

Dean sat at his bedside worriedly.

I stood behind Dean, a hand on his shoulder.

Dean looked at me, taking my hand.

I looked at the TV in the room.

It showed pictures and videos of the falling angels.

The news headline read: Global Meteor Shower.

~~~~~~~  

Dean and I were talking with a doctor, looking at medical scans.

"The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs," the doctor told us. "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."

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Dean told us.

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

"He'll be dead," I finished.

"Technically, yes," the doctor answered. "I'm afraid so."

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

"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now," the doctor told us.

"You're a doctor," Dean told him. "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?"

"Mr. Dougherty--" the doctor started.

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

"I didn't mean--" the doctor started.

"That's not good enough," Dean told us, walking out.

I sighed, not knowing what to do.

~~~~~~~  

I was still with Sam.

A woman walked in.

I stood. "Hi."

"My name is Kim Schortz, and I'm a grief counselor here at the hospital," the woman told me.

"Right," I told her. "Yeah."

"Are you Mrs. Dougherty?" Kim asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry, my husband's not in, so..."

"It's okay," Kim told me. "This can't be that easy for you, either. I'm afraid, as hard this may be, this might be a good time to talk... about the inevitable."

"Look, I'm sure you're a nice person and that you mean well, but 'inevitable'?" I asked. "That's a fighting word where I come from. There's always a way."

 "And I am a prayerful woman who believes in miracles as much as the next," Kim told me. "But I also know how to read an EEG. And unless you're telling me you have a direct line to angels or God..."

"Yeah, no, I, uh..." I trailed off. "I don't." I got an idea. "But I might have something better. I got the King of Hell in the trunk."

I walked past Kim.