Unspoken Words

Chapter 1

Dean did not expect to be woken by the voluminous ringing of the household's phone.

Dean did not expect his bedside clock to read 3:19 a.m.

With reluctance, he crawled out of his warm bed and trudged to the hall where the phone hung against the ghastly wallpaper.

And Dean, bless his soul, did not expect to be driving nervously to the hospital at this hour with a solemn look of fear for his brother's safety.

"You are Dean Winchester? Sam's guardian?" the doctor before him asked.

Dean nodded apprehensively. "Yeah, he's my brother. I've been taking care of him for a few years now. Became his legal guardian after our folks died."

The doctor gave Dean a look of something mixed between pity and remorse. "We spoke on the phone. My name is Dr. Kadinsky."

"Is he uh- is he okay?"

"Physically? Fine. The car had mostly stopped before hitting him and just left him a little bruised up. But-"

"But what?" Dean rushed out. He tried to read the doctor's expression to maybe understand what the hell was going on. Sam had snuck out of the house on his watch, and now he felt like this whole mess was his fault for not being a better big brother.

"Well, he's extremely sleep deprived and his body was starting to shut down. We pumped him with some sedatives and he finally went under. We're guessing he hadn't slept for at least a week. I think he'll be under for a few days while we still run some tests. We're not entirely sure if his hallucinations were caused by the deprivation or vice versa. We want-"

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Hallucinations?"

The doctor glared at Dean with clear annoyance of being interrupted twice now. "Yes. When he was brought in he showed clear signs of hallucinating, although we were unable to figure out what exactly he was seeing. He should be fine. After he wakes up we can fully determine what the proper treatment is before sending him home."

The word treatment sent shivers down Dean's spine. He didn't like the sound of a sick Sammy who had to shove pills down his throat in order to fall asleep. "Is.., can I see him?"

Dr. Kadinsky nodded. "Right now he's being held in the psych ward. I can take you to him, but he'll be asleep for a while."

Dean felt bile rise in his throat at the mention of a psych ward. His gut wrenched as he thought of his little brother locked in a padded room with a straight jacket on. "Sam's not crazy," Dean defended.

The doctor led him down a long hallway with a locked brown door at the end of its pearly white floor tiles. He entered a code before the door clicked and slightly opened. "I'm neither saying nor suggesting he is. He simply has a psychological issue. The psych ward is where those patients go so we can monitor and treat them. Besides, it's cozier and roomier in there for him than if we were to leave him in the bustling part of the hospital."

Dean gave the man an utter look of nonsensical skepticism. How had he let this happen? He told himself it was because of all the double and night shifts he was taking, but he also knew he should've recognized something was wrong with Sam. What kind of brother was he not to realize the other hadn't slept in a week? Dean felt the personal guilt wash over him as he rubbed at his temples, trying to keep up with Dr. Kadinsky as he swept through the ward.

Dean was led into a spacious room with a single bed, a desk, and a big window. Sam lay passed out under the sheets with deep circles around his eyes. How had he not picked up on it? He pulled a chair next to the bed and ashamedly plopped down. He gazed at Sam's tired features and the swollen bruise across his cheek. He smiled at his garishly long hair and told himself everything would be fine. He'd only be asleep a few days.