Multum In Parvo (SPN fanfic) 5/7
Title: Multum In Parvo
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: PG-13
Sam paced to the end of the hallway, thirty-eight steps, turned and paced back to the nuclear medicine testing area, then finished his lap of the hall. Dean had been in there for ten minutes. If felt longer, but it was only ten. Sam was keeping track and the clock on the wall was working correctly, he'd double checked it against his watch. He sighed, at least Willard was nowhere to be seen. Sam's mood hadn't improved and seeing the doctor might just push him over the edge.
The fact that Willard had reappeared twice and tried to convince Dean to start whatever protocol he was pushing was beginning to drive Sam to a point of fury that was a little terrifying to view from the inside. He knew his brother could see it as well. Dean kept casting worried glances his way. Sam couldn't really blame him, he knew the other Sam, the soulless one, would have killed without mercy. Whether or not he would have killed Dr. Willard might be up for debate. Not really, after the way he treated me the last time he saw Dean, he'd be dead.
Sam made his turn and started back up the hallway. The conversation he'd had a few hours earlier still playing in his head. The card his brother had given him was for a doctor, a specialist, and when Sam had called, they had not even needed Dean's last name to know who he was talking about. That was worrying. The receptionist was chatty and had assured Sam they would take care of everything. He wasn't sure what she meant, but she had broken the connection before he could ask.
“Hey,” Dean's said from behind him.
Sam stopped his pacing and faced his brother. “How'd it go?”
“Well, I burped wrong or something and got the radioactive stuff in a weird spot, so I had to drink more cheap cola. We are never, ever, drinking anything but name brand ever again.”
“Never?” Sam couldn't help grinning at his brother's petulant tone. “Ever? For infinity ever?”
Dean looked up, a smile lighting his eyes, a real smile for a shared joke. “Yeah, Sammy, for infinity ever.”
“Good,” Sam said, walking beside the wheelchair. “Did they say anything else?”
“Hold still.”
“What?”
“They said hold still, actually it was take a breath and don't move, only they said it so fast, I moved so they had to do it again, and again.” Dean sighed. “I think they did it on purpose.”
Sam laughed. “The conspiracy at work?”
“You know it.” Dean chuckled. “I told you, it's out there. That 'whole don't move', 'this will pinch' it's all a conspiracy.”
“Right, a conspiracy perpetrated by...?”
“Curling playing demons, they want me weakened in order to force me to watch their sport.”
“You love curling.” Sam nudged him.
“I do. See? Their evil plot worked. I'm addicted to their sport, forced to watch it every season.”
“And watch endless replays on YouTube in the off season?”
“Yep.” Dean rubbed his chest.
“Dean?”
“It's okay.” He smirked. “It pinches.”
“Ha ha.”
They arrived back at Dean's room, and Sam offered his brother a hand, which Dean batted away. He settled himself in bed while the nurse hooked him back up to the in room monitors. Sam sat down beside the bed and watched the door. Dean turned on the TV and was dozing within a few minutes. Sam sighed and stretched his legs. He really needed to do something, anything, but he was not about to leave Dean alone.
“Well, your test results are back,” Dr. Willard said, striding into the room.
“What?” Dean jerked awake.
Sam put his hand on his brother's arm. “Doctor?” he growled softly.
“Your heart is normal. I'll sign your release forms and you can go.”
“What?” Dean blinked.
“What do you mean? He's still in pain!” Sam stood.
“Sammy.”
“No, Dean. You needed a shot of morphine less than an hour ago. You. You asked for it. You, Dean. And this jerk is just letting you go?”
“It's not his heart.” Willard shrugged. “Now, about that protocol.”
“No,” Dean said, a note of panic in his voice. No one else might have heard it, but Sam did. His brother was scared.
“Excuse me?” A deep male voice said from the door. “Am I interrupting?”
Willard rounded on the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”
“I was asked to check on Dean,” he said, glancing down at a file. “By Dr. Gleason.”
“Thank god,” Dean said. Sam glanced at his brother, Dean looked relieved.
“Since you seem to be done here, I'll take over.”
“I was just explaining to him about a protocol that...” Willard said, his face turning red.
“NO!” Dean shouted and immediately grabbed his chest with a groan.
“Out,” Sam said quietly to Willard.
“But …”
Sam took half a step away from Dean's bed. “Out.”
“Sammy,” Dean's quiet voice stopped him.
“You heard them,” the new doctor grinned. “Out you go, I'll take it from here.” He waited until Willard was nearly out of the room. “And Willard? That protocol is horse shit.”
There was dead silence for several seconds, then Sam heard his brother chuckle. He took a deep breath and smiled at the man, feeling the tension between his shoulder blades relax a little. It didn't let Willard off the hook, but Sam had a little time to plan something special. He stopped and considered that thought. Was it the influence of that other Sam, the one with no soul? No, he hurt Dean. He pays. It's been your rule since you were old enough to act on it.
“Okay, let's start again. Dean and Sam, right?” He held his hand out and shook Dean's then Sam's. “I'm Sean Riggan, Brian Gleason called me this morning and asked me to take over for him, since he's not here.”
“Thank you,” Dean said.
“Let's see what we have here. So, your heart does look fine.”
“That's good, right?” Sam asked, remembering his terror years before, facing his brother's failing heart and his own desperation, trying to find a cure when there was nothing that could be done.
“Yes and no,” the doctor said honestly. “Yes, because we can rule out cardiac. No because Dean is still obviously in a lot of pain.”
“So where do we go from here, doc?” Sam asked, dropping into the chair beside the bed.
“Sean, call me Sean.” He looked through the files. “The next step is usually acid reflux and GERDs. I'm not sure about that, and Brian wasn't either. We're both leaning towards the esophagus. Well, I mean not acid in the esophagus, but something else going on, especially since the nurses did note you had some relief from the nitro.” He smiled. “I have ordered that stopped, not because I'm a sadist, but the tests Brian discussed with me, and I agree you need-well-we need you as normal as possible.”
“What's the test?”
“It's an esophageal pressure and PH test. I'm afraid it's not fun,” Sean said with a rueful smile. “Let me rephrase that. It sucks, I actually had to have one done, so I know exactly what it's like, if there was another I could use I would, but it's the best one for what we're looking for.”
“Like the egg salad?” Dean asked.
“Huh?” Sam looked at his brother with a frown. Egg salad?
“Just like that. Specific to what we're looking for.”
“Dr. Gleason said the egg salad was the best, but sometimes it can take patients years to get around to getting it.”
“Some doctors spend a lot of time with other tests before that one, even though it's relatively fast and painless. Sorry to say, this one isn't really either. Actually these tests. There are two. One takes about forty-five minutes, the second twenty-four hours.”
Dean's shoulder's sagged. “Another twenty-four hours in here?”
“No, actually I would prefer it if you were out. Go to a movie, eat food that gives you heartburn, take a walk in the park, relax as much as you can while being upright as much of the day as you can.”
“What's the test involve?” Sam asked, putting his hand on Dean's arm.
“You won't like it.”
“I'm sure I won't. I haven't liked most of them,” Dean said with a snort.
“It uses a tube...”
“Already hating it.”
Sean smiled. “Yeah, and they need it in your esophagus so...”
“Up the nose? Like a feeding tube?” Dean was frowning.
“I'm afraid so, both of them.”
“I hate those things.”
Sam frowned. The last time his brother had needed a feeding tube-that he could remember at least-he'd been unconscious the whole time. “Then what?” Sam looked from the doctor to Dean.
“Well the first one, we have you swallow while the tube is in, sports drink and baby food then measure how the esophagus works, then we pull that tube and the second goes in, it stays all day and you eat and drink as normally as possible for you. There's a monitor attached to it, you wear that all day and it has buttons for specific events, nausea, pain, belching and then another for other events and you just make a note of those.”
“Sounds like a party,” Dean said.
“At least a party. I had Indian food during mine just to shake things up.” He smiled. “Not much of course. We're a lot alike, Dean, in a lot of ways. So I know where you're coming from.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. So, let's get you out of here and down to outpatient to get the first part taken care of, then you can leave. I'll have a follow up appointment scheduled for late afternoon tomorrow. I have to read the results, but I won't keep you waiting. You're in pain and you can't really take anything during the test, so I want to get it over as soon as possible.” Sean looked at Sam. “Make sure he has as good a day as possible, can I trust you to do that?”
“Yes!” Sam said fervently.
“Good.” He stood and shook both their hands. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”
“Thank you,” Dean said.
“You're welcome.” He walked out of the room.
“I'll go get the paperwork, Dean, while they get you ready, okay?” Sam said absently, already halfway out the room. “Doctor? Sean!” He called when the doctor didn't stop.
“Yes?” The man turned.
“What's wrong with my brother?”
“I'm not sure, that's what the test are...” He trailed off, searching Sam's face. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Sam asked, feeling his eyebrows climb. “Oh what?”
“You need to speak to him, Sam. I can't. Patient confidentiality.”
“You don't understand, he won't talk to me about it.” Sam tried his guaranteed to get the information from anyone look-the one not even Dean could deny. Only-it didn't work on Sean, he frowned and shook his head. “Please.” Sam knew he sounded pathetic.
“Talk to him, you have twenty-four hours and believe me with that thing up his nose he won't be running anywhere fast.” The doctor smiled. “Make sure he takes it easy-or at least he relaxes. He needs it.”
“Okay.” Sam sighed, he was about to try another tactic when his brother's shout of “NO!” blasted down the hallway. Sam was running before his brain told his feet to move.
Chapter Six
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: PG-13
Sam paced to the end of the hallway, thirty-eight steps, turned and paced back to the nuclear medicine testing area, then finished his lap of the hall. Dean had been in there for ten minutes. If felt longer, but it was only ten. Sam was keeping track and the clock on the wall was working correctly, he'd double checked it against his watch. He sighed, at least Willard was nowhere to be seen. Sam's mood hadn't improved and seeing the doctor might just push him over the edge.
The fact that Willard had reappeared twice and tried to convince Dean to start whatever protocol he was pushing was beginning to drive Sam to a point of fury that was a little terrifying to view from the inside. He knew his brother could see it as well. Dean kept casting worried glances his way. Sam couldn't really blame him, he knew the other Sam, the soulless one, would have killed without mercy. Whether or not he would have killed Dr. Willard might be up for debate. Not really, after the way he treated me the last time he saw Dean, he'd be dead.
Sam made his turn and started back up the hallway. The conversation he'd had a few hours earlier still playing in his head. The card his brother had given him was for a doctor, a specialist, and when Sam had called, they had not even needed Dean's last name to know who he was talking about. That was worrying. The receptionist was chatty and had assured Sam they would take care of everything. He wasn't sure what she meant, but she had broken the connection before he could ask.
“Hey,” Dean's said from behind him.
Sam stopped his pacing and faced his brother. “How'd it go?”
“Well, I burped wrong or something and got the radioactive stuff in a weird spot, so I had to drink more cheap cola. We are never, ever, drinking anything but name brand ever again.”
“Never?” Sam couldn't help grinning at his brother's petulant tone. “Ever? For infinity ever?”
Dean looked up, a smile lighting his eyes, a real smile for a shared joke. “Yeah, Sammy, for infinity ever.”
“Good,” Sam said, walking beside the wheelchair. “Did they say anything else?”
“Hold still.”
“What?”
“They said hold still, actually it was take a breath and don't move, only they said it so fast, I moved so they had to do it again, and again.” Dean sighed. “I think they did it on purpose.”
Sam laughed. “The conspiracy at work?”
“You know it.” Dean chuckled. “I told you, it's out there. That 'whole don't move', 'this will pinch' it's all a conspiracy.”
“Right, a conspiracy perpetrated by...?”
“Curling playing demons, they want me weakened in order to force me to watch their sport.”
“You love curling.” Sam nudged him.
“I do. See? Their evil plot worked. I'm addicted to their sport, forced to watch it every season.”
“And watch endless replays on YouTube in the off season?”
“Yep.” Dean rubbed his chest.
“Dean?”
“It's okay.” He smirked. “It pinches.”
“Ha ha.”
They arrived back at Dean's room, and Sam offered his brother a hand, which Dean batted away. He settled himself in bed while the nurse hooked him back up to the in room monitors. Sam sat down beside the bed and watched the door. Dean turned on the TV and was dozing within a few minutes. Sam sighed and stretched his legs. He really needed to do something, anything, but he was not about to leave Dean alone.
“Well, your test results are back,” Dr. Willard said, striding into the room.
“What?” Dean jerked awake.
Sam put his hand on his brother's arm. “Doctor?” he growled softly.
“Your heart is normal. I'll sign your release forms and you can go.”
“What?” Dean blinked.
“What do you mean? He's still in pain!” Sam stood.
“Sammy.”
“No, Dean. You needed a shot of morphine less than an hour ago. You. You asked for it. You, Dean. And this jerk is just letting you go?”
“It's not his heart.” Willard shrugged. “Now, about that protocol.”
“No,” Dean said, a note of panic in his voice. No one else might have heard it, but Sam did. His brother was scared.
“Excuse me?” A deep male voice said from the door. “Am I interrupting?”
Willard rounded on the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”
“I was asked to check on Dean,” he said, glancing down at a file. “By Dr. Gleason.”
“Thank god,” Dean said. Sam glanced at his brother, Dean looked relieved.
“Since you seem to be done here, I'll take over.”
“I was just explaining to him about a protocol that...” Willard said, his face turning red.
“NO!” Dean shouted and immediately grabbed his chest with a groan.
“Out,” Sam said quietly to Willard.
“But …”
Sam took half a step away from Dean's bed. “Out.”
“Sammy,” Dean's quiet voice stopped him.
“You heard them,” the new doctor grinned. “Out you go, I'll take it from here.” He waited until Willard was nearly out of the room. “And Willard? That protocol is horse shit.”
There was dead silence for several seconds, then Sam heard his brother chuckle. He took a deep breath and smiled at the man, feeling the tension between his shoulder blades relax a little. It didn't let Willard off the hook, but Sam had a little time to plan something special. He stopped and considered that thought. Was it the influence of that other Sam, the one with no soul? No, he hurt Dean. He pays. It's been your rule since you were old enough to act on it.
“Okay, let's start again. Dean and Sam, right?” He held his hand out and shook Dean's then Sam's. “I'm Sean Riggan, Brian Gleason called me this morning and asked me to take over for him, since he's not here.”
“Thank you,” Dean said.
“Let's see what we have here. So, your heart does look fine.”
“That's good, right?” Sam asked, remembering his terror years before, facing his brother's failing heart and his own desperation, trying to find a cure when there was nothing that could be done.
“Yes and no,” the doctor said honestly. “Yes, because we can rule out cardiac. No because Dean is still obviously in a lot of pain.”
“So where do we go from here, doc?” Sam asked, dropping into the chair beside the bed.
“Sean, call me Sean.” He looked through the files. “The next step is usually acid reflux and GERDs. I'm not sure about that, and Brian wasn't either. We're both leaning towards the esophagus. Well, I mean not acid in the esophagus, but something else going on, especially since the nurses did note you had some relief from the nitro.” He smiled. “I have ordered that stopped, not because I'm a sadist, but the tests Brian discussed with me, and I agree you need-well-we need you as normal as possible.”
“What's the test?”
“It's an esophageal pressure and PH test. I'm afraid it's not fun,” Sean said with a rueful smile. “Let me rephrase that. It sucks, I actually had to have one done, so I know exactly what it's like, if there was another I could use I would, but it's the best one for what we're looking for.”
“Like the egg salad?” Dean asked.
“Huh?” Sam looked at his brother with a frown. Egg salad?
“Just like that. Specific to what we're looking for.”
“Dr. Gleason said the egg salad was the best, but sometimes it can take patients years to get around to getting it.”
“Some doctors spend a lot of time with other tests before that one, even though it's relatively fast and painless. Sorry to say, this one isn't really either. Actually these tests. There are two. One takes about forty-five minutes, the second twenty-four hours.”
Dean's shoulder's sagged. “Another twenty-four hours in here?”
“No, actually I would prefer it if you were out. Go to a movie, eat food that gives you heartburn, take a walk in the park, relax as much as you can while being upright as much of the day as you can.”
“What's the test involve?” Sam asked, putting his hand on Dean's arm.
“You won't like it.”
“I'm sure I won't. I haven't liked most of them,” Dean said with a snort.
“It uses a tube...”
“Already hating it.”
Sean smiled. “Yeah, and they need it in your esophagus so...”
“Up the nose? Like a feeding tube?” Dean was frowning.
“I'm afraid so, both of them.”
“I hate those things.”
Sam frowned. The last time his brother had needed a feeding tube-that he could remember at least-he'd been unconscious the whole time. “Then what?” Sam looked from the doctor to Dean.
“Well the first one, we have you swallow while the tube is in, sports drink and baby food then measure how the esophagus works, then we pull that tube and the second goes in, it stays all day and you eat and drink as normally as possible for you. There's a monitor attached to it, you wear that all day and it has buttons for specific events, nausea, pain, belching and then another for other events and you just make a note of those.”
“Sounds like a party,” Dean said.
“At least a party. I had Indian food during mine just to shake things up.” He smiled. “Not much of course. We're a lot alike, Dean, in a lot of ways. So I know where you're coming from.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. So, let's get you out of here and down to outpatient to get the first part taken care of, then you can leave. I'll have a follow up appointment scheduled for late afternoon tomorrow. I have to read the results, but I won't keep you waiting. You're in pain and you can't really take anything during the test, so I want to get it over as soon as possible.” Sean looked at Sam. “Make sure he has as good a day as possible, can I trust you to do that?”
“Yes!” Sam said fervently.
“Good.” He stood and shook both their hands. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”
“Thank you,” Dean said.
“You're welcome.” He walked out of the room.
“I'll go get the paperwork, Dean, while they get you ready, okay?” Sam said absently, already halfway out the room. “Doctor? Sean!” He called when the doctor didn't stop.
“Yes?” The man turned.
“What's wrong with my brother?”
“I'm not sure, that's what the test are...” He trailed off, searching Sam's face. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Sam asked, feeling his eyebrows climb. “Oh what?”
“You need to speak to him, Sam. I can't. Patient confidentiality.”
“You don't understand, he won't talk to me about it.” Sam tried his guaranteed to get the information from anyone look-the one not even Dean could deny. Only-it didn't work on Sean, he frowned and shook his head. “Please.” Sam knew he sounded pathetic.
“Talk to him, you have twenty-four hours and believe me with that thing up his nose he won't be running anywhere fast.” The doctor smiled. “Make sure he takes it easy-or at least he relaxes. He needs it.”
“Okay.” Sam sighed, he was about to try another tactic when his brother's shout of “NO!” blasted down the hallway. Sam was running before his brain told his feet to move.
Chapter Six