don't go around tonight, well it's bound to take your life.

[mulletrock]

Who: Dean Winchester, OPEN TO ALL.
What: Dean takes matters into his own hands.
When: Early afternoon of today.
Where: Skye hospital.
Warnings: Sick things. Cursing.
OOC notes: Family, friends, and enemies otherwise are welcome to forward-date visits to yell and/or console him (most likely yell) when he's actually situated in a room. IDK. ♥

[It's hard to slip out unnoticed in a house that has half your family and a kid you're responsible for but he managed it.

He's been on bed rest for the past few days, enough to have the cycle of people looking in on him memorized. So when he saw opportunity, he took it.

He sat curled up in a cab with a sweatshirt on instead of his Dad's leather jacket and took it to the hospital.

When he gets there he's still hunching his shoulders in a way that's pretty indicative of him being in pain. For the people that knew him.

He's spent the past five minutes arguing with the receptionist.] Look, I don't give a shit if you're busy I'm not gonna sit around and infect my family. I don't care if you have t'keep me in a friggen' linen closet I'm not leaving.

[He's pale, his lips are chapped, and he looks miserable. It only takes the subtlest of brushes from a passerby to knock him flat on his ass.

His hand goes to his head because the room starts to spin.] Dammit... [He didn't even like hospitals, but this was necessary.]

Comments

[doctor_mccoy]

[It's hard not to overhear, even over the crowded waiting room, but then it's been like that since yesterday and the best the staff can do is make everyone comfortable and send home those with less crippling symptoms. It was rough to play pick and choose when nearly half the city was coming down with something.]

Take it easy, pal. [McCoy comes around to offer Dean a hand up, half surprised the guy is even conscious since he looks like death warmed over. He turns his gaze towards the receptionist]

They cleared some rooms if you wanna shack him up, won't do having people keelin' over in the halls. [unfortunately 'available' rooms only come two ways... if someone dies or if SERO snatches them up.]

[mulletrock]

[Dean grabs McCoy mid arm and hoists himself up. He swallows hard and gives the nurse a look before leaning back against the counter for a little support.]

Don't care where they stick me I'm not goin' home.

[doctor_mccoy]

[He can get him to a chair at the very least, the waiting room is crowded with extra ones that have been pulled from anywhere they can be found, most are stiff and plastic from the cafeteria.]

Luckily we don't make a habit of sending sick people home. [He turns back to the station to grab a stack of forms and a pen, dropping down to sit in the seat beside Dean. It's nice to be off his own feet for a minute... honestly he's been trying to head home all day, just for a little while, but can never seem to get past the waiting room.]

How about we sign ya in while they find you a bed?

[mulletrock]

[Dean lets the chair cradle him and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black sweatshirt trying to calm down enough to be able to take a few breaths.

All it does is make him cough.]

Yeah, let's do that.

[He figures starting with his name is the best bet.] Dean Winchester, 32, no allergies, no known illnesses.

[doctor_mccoy]

[McCoy copies everything down with a quick scratch of pen, they can skim over all the obvious reasons, like why Dean is there; he can assess his symptoms quickly enough just by looking at the guy. It's all bad news honestly, and the doctor's too tired to be anything but quietly sympathetic.]

Emergency contacts?

Near dinner time?

[ellen_harvelle]

[Ellen hadn't known where to start looking for Dean. She hadn't wanted to intrude on Mary - that was a bit of awkward she wanted to avoid. But dammit, she'd taken care of those boys, and that meant she felt like she should do something.

Beyond hover over Jo, forever.

Still, she'd managed to overhear a receptionist complaining about a jerk refusing to leave, but at least the guy would be cute, if he didn't look like death warmed over.

Yep. That sounded like Dean. She found his room and pushed open the door.]

You gonna make me have to wait around for Rufus to tell me you're back this time?

[A weak joke, but that was all they had at the moment. She didn't know what this thing was, but she hated seeing Dean wrapped up in wires and monitors and not looking well at all.]

sounds good.

[mulletrock]

Since when do I willingly head to hospitals?

[He jokes back. Rufus isn't here and he doesn't want to think about that when it still sort of hurts to breathe.]

They put me in a dress.

[He says in mock-offense.] And like always the nurses aren't even hot.

How's Jo?

[ellen_harvelle]

[Her foot hooks a chair and she drags it over to the bedside, sitting in it. Her mouth twitches at the dress and nurse comments.]

They're keepin' the hot ones away so you'll leave faster. Keeps you from overstaying your welcome.

[She leans her elbows on her knees.]

She's fine. Still adjusting. She... doesn't know about Carthage, but that's probably for the best.

[mulletrock]

Well, that isn't fair.

[He sputters a little and grabs a water bottle off the side table to wet his pallet.]

Carthage?

[Sorry, Ellen, he doesn't know about Carthage either.]

[ellen_harvelle]

[She winces. She'd thought... sigh. So, she just shakes her head.]

If you don't know about it, don't worry. It's not important.

[Right now, anyway.]

You want me to bring you anything?

juuuuust after sirens

[momchester]

[It's a close call, in the end.

Mary comes back from a trip across the street to find Dean gone- which is only a big deal because of how incredibly falling-over sick he is. SUPER. That kicks off a pleasant afternoon of calling, texting, trying hard not to freak out, failing, and calling people to ask if they've seen him. All complicated, by the way, by the cold-slash-fever Mary's been fighting off for three days, pretending she's healthy so she can take care of her sick family.

Eventually help comes in the form of a phone call from - her heart stopped at the caller ID - Skye Medical, and one (1) freaked-out nurse whose voice Mary recognizes after the fact telling her in hushed tones that Tom Hanniger is walking the halls of the hospital again. Mary freaks out and hangs up on her. After a few minutes of near-hyperventilating, she gets her head together, double-checks the Network just in case, and leaves for Skye immediately, assured that the poor nurse saw Dean, not Tom.

She makes it in the door right at the end of sirens, resigning herself to a night in the hospital, and after an awkward conversation (yes, I'm his mother, yes, I promise- listen, I'm a citizen, do we have to do this?) gets directions to find Dean from an orderly who remembers her from the Tom days, and runs most of the way there.

He's in a hallway. Stretched out on some crappy pushed-together chairs in a damn hallway. Mary skids to a highly dignified stop some ten yards from him, walks up to him, and falters on the brink of giving him the smack he deserves. She's too tired.

So Dean gets a tired sigh instead.]

Here you are.

[carryonmywaywardson]

[Ben's been good. Ben's been really good. He's stayed in the house and kept out of the way for the most part. When Mary found that Dean was gone, Ben was worried not only for Dean but for Dean's mom, because she seemed very worried. Mary reminded him of mom at a moment like this, so he did his best to be a good kid. Play his music, play his game, draw and stay out of the way.]

[When they left to go to the hospital, Ben was on his best behavior, keeping up with Mary for the most part. He didn't like these kind of places, and this city seemed worse then his own home town, so he stayed close to Mary as they wandered.]

[When they found Dean he frowned deeply, moving to linger near a wall, looking on as Mary spoke with Dean. Ben gave a small nod of his head, a silent 'sup' to the man. He... didn't look so well. Still sick. Ben didn't like that the man was still sick though... that wasn't good.]

[For now he stayed back a bit, hands in his pockets, head down a bit, but looking up at the two. He wondered why he was sitting in a hall way though...]

[mulletrock]

[Being propped on the chair isn't remotely comfortable for his back but he's curled up in them anyway like it's the biggest god send in the world when really if he'd stayed at home he would've been more comfortable.

He doesn't even notice his mom walking up at first, because he's drifting in and out of sleep, but the familiar voice catches his attention.

He'd shrink back at the tone if his last fuck hadn't left a while ago. Instead he just smiles tiredly her way.]

Did you bring my flask?

[He could use a drink right about now.]

[momchester]

[Mary hangs back for a second to squeeze Ben's shoulder and gesture him into a chair, then steps closer and kneels at her son's side.]

No. You need water, not alcohol. You can't dehydrate, it's dangerous.

[She feels his forehead, but quickly realizes she's a terrible judge of temperature, being feverish herself. Hell, even getting here was pure Hell- crushing fatigue and hurrying don't mix.]

Dean... what are you doing here?

[mulletrock]

The last thing I want is t'get anyone else sick.

[He admits. He glimpses Ben in the corner and is hit with more guilt. He swallows hard, coughing against the attempt to keep his lunch down.]

j/k sunday night actually

[momchester]

[Dean's been getting worse. Mary's missing work for this, falling out of touch with John and Sam, slipping away from everything because he's getting worse and nothing anyone's doing is helping, and on top of it all she feels horrible.

She stopped at some stupid faith healing thing earlier today- and it was weird, kind of cultish, but she ended up oversharing about her horrible life until her flu symptoms vanished. The peace lasted all of two hours before she came back to the hospital, saw Dean wasting away, and ran away to throw up.

Christ. At least he isn't in the fucking hallway anymore. Mary managed to get him a room by complaining loudly enough and making sad faces at staff members who remembered her and Tom- something about the "identical to my son" thing really tugged some heartstrings. So Dean has his own room to languish in while she's off getting smoothies for them to try to keep down.

When Mary comes back there's a nurse coming out of his room looking so resigned that her heart stops a little. It's bad: systems failing, fever rising, dehydration setting in. Mary shoves the woman out of the way and gets back in the room, approaching the bed slowly, feeling sick. They have him on an IV now, and she can barely concentrate through her fever that she won't let anyone look at.

She puts a hand on his head gently. God, he's so hot- he even feels hot to her.]

Hi, baby.

[mulletrock]

[Of course Dean's been texting off and on when he actually has the strength to make sure other people are okay too.

He was in the middle of texting Crowley when his Mom came in and it's just too easy to let the phone slip out of his hand and lean into her touch.

He's washed out, most color gone from his face, and his lips are chapped from the temperature he's running. He fakes it pretty good though, and even manages a tired smile her way.]

Hey, Mom.

[momchester]

[His head is so hot. God, look at him, he's colorless and awful- chapped lips, sweating, he's shaking slightly. She takes his hand, finding with a jolt that the rest of his skin is cool and clammy. The phone clattering to the floor barely makes a dent in her consciousness- everything is coming through distant and muffled.]

How do you feel?

[God, where the hell is Sam? She wants to go get him- to run at him, grab his sleeve, tell him to come, please, hurry, the coffee can fucking wait. Instead, she lets go of his hand, pulls the tray over the bed, and sets the smoothies down with a weak, watery smile.]

I thought maybe something gentle- it has all kinds of supplements in it, so you'll get something from it... if you can keep it down.

[He hasn't even been keeping water down. It's half the reason he's so far gone.]

[mulletrock]

[Dean grabs the smoothie and takes a sip to be nice but just ends up sputtering for a while, chest heaving tiredly trying to get rid of it.]

I've been through worse.

[He reassures her. He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it.]

I'll be fine.

Open to all means the kid with the jello too, right?

[inthejunk]

[It's basically impossible to catch a break. Every time Yosuke sets foot in the hospital to bring another friend in or check up on someone, he gets handed a mask and a set of scrubs and sent on his way to do something or another. At this rate his community service card will be full way ahead of schedule. Maybe they'll let him off early...or just give him a new one. Ugh.]

[But hey, what's this? This dude clearly needs to be lying down, already.]

Oh, man. Again? Hey, just sit down a minute, alright? I'm changing linens as fast as I can, you know.

[Sigh.]

[mulletrock]

[Dean grabs onto the counter and heaves himself up. He uses it for lumbar support and leans back up against it.]

Yeah, not fast enough. [He mumbles.] How many people are here, anyway?

[inthejunk]

[Sigh.] I've been here since sirens, you jerk. And so has pretty much everyone else. You're the only one who just got here.

[But you look rough, dude, so he kicks a chair your way and rubs his face, tired but not even close to throwing the towel in. Just taking a breather.]

Wait until you see a bodybag roll past, and I'll get a bed ready for you. If you need a basin, ask someone else. I'm not cleared for bio-hazards. You have to be 19 for some reason.

[mulletrock]

Excuse the hell outta me.

[Dean's not amused but it's clear it has nothing to do with the kid. His tone's not as angry as it would be if it was directed at him. He seems pretty neutral.

He takes a seat and grips at his ribs. They hurt from coughing.]

That's not what I signed up for. Whatever this shit is I'm surprised you're not in a hazmat suit.

How old are you, anyway?

Sunday night

[family_remains]

[Sam has been here the entire time. It took him all of three seconds to decide to ignore his brother's protests and come to the hospital, to find his room and quietly let himself in. He and Mary and Ben. Others came to visit, and they would politely excuse themselves, but they were always somewhere close by. Taking turns between sitting worried and sick and tired next to him and roaming the hallways on some trivial task to distract themselves from the.. well. everything.

By this point Mary has finally torn herself from Dean's side, leaving to take Ben to get some food. To get some air in a hospital she knows all too well. And Sam is there, quietly sitting next to his brother, trying desperately to hold it together.]

[mulletrock]

[Dean's face is a translucent shade of white and his eyes are shadowed in heavy red circles. He's been staring at something that looks like Siren Port's version of Springer and he doesn't look too happy.

He's not about talk feelings with Sam so he turns to him and with a pained grunt slaps him in the shoulder.]

Dude, do me a favor and turn the channel to somethin' trashy. [I.E. porn.] I'm not gonna die with my sponge bath from Randall still fresh in my mind.