I know I haven't written anything in the LONGEST time. I've been so busy. I hope you guys like it, I had a lot of fun writing it. Loopy!Dean is one of my favorites. :D I also am in the process of changing my name on & reviewing all of my stories. Also, all mistakes are mine as I am my own beta! Humerus is the bone that Dean broke.
Two plates, six nails and ten screws are what it took to bound Dean's broken arm back together. The last gig had been difficult. Dean had been tossed down two flights of stairs by a poltergeist and although he had appeared banged and bruised, he had insisted that he was fine. Sam should have known better.
Fine, was Dean speak for "It hurts like fucking hell but I am too much of a stubborn jackass to admit it."
It was pitch black outside and nearing 3am when they returned to the Impala.
Dean had climbed into the passenger seat and rested his head against the window. He had fallen asleep while Sam finished organizing the arsenal in the trunk. It was strange that Dean had let Sam take the wheel, but Dean had been driving for almost a week straight so Sam figured that he just needed a break.
It was two states later when the sun started to rise when Sam noticed how Dean was cradling his arm awkwardly against him, moaning each time the Impala hit rough terrain. In the light, Sam could see that Dean's fingers were swollen, the beds of his nails blue, and oh fuck, Sam could actually see bone sticking through the skin.
Dean didn't wake until they pulled into the ER and when he finally opened his eyes, they were dull, pupils huge. He seemed not to know what to do when Sam opened the door for him. Probably shock, Sam though as he guided Dean inside, being extra careful not to jostle Dean anymore then he had to.
The staff had taken one look at Dean's arm before rushing him behind the swinging doors, leaving Sam in the waiting room. After several X-Rays, painkillers and a three-hour surgery to mend Dean's cracked humorous, Sam was finally allowed to see his brother.
A nurse was scribbling on a clipboard attached to the foot of Dean's bed. She looked up seeing Sam.
"You must be the brother? I have to warn you." She glanced at Dean. "He's not very lucid."
"Ssssammmyyyy." Dean's grin spread across his entire face. "'S my wife Cindy." He slurred, pointing to the nurse with his good arm, nearly tugging the IV out of the top of his hand.
"My name is Bethany." The nurse stated, not amused in the slightest. By the way that Dean's eyes kept fluttering up in his head, Sam knew they must have had him on morphine. And holy shit, it looked like a good amount of it.
Dean waved his newly casted arm in the air, nearly smacking it against the guard rail on his bed as he brought it down. "Got married in Hawaii." He told Sam. "Me and Cindy. Ssshe's hot."
"That's very flattering, Mr. Winchester." Bethany said, not even looking up from what she was writing.
"How long has this been going on?" Sam asked as Dean blew Bethany a kiss and winked. Twice.
"Since he woke up from surgery." She said flatly. Sam had to admit, the outlandish behavior sure was better than the last time that Dean was on painkillers. He had first spewed his stomach contents all over the ER (and Sam's brand new shirt.) Then he had hit on at least one nurse from every shift (Even the old goat in her 60's), had tried to get up and just walk out the door twice, and had shouted Christo! At some poor singing messenger, carrying an armful of balloons for another patient down the hall.
Dean grew quiet for all of five minutes, eyes trained on the ceiling, clearly lost in thought.
"I watch House every week." Dean declared. "Show's first diagnosis for a disease is…'s it called again?" Ssounds like a dog's name." He paused. "Rufus? You know, like woof!!! Dufus?" Sam could barely understand what Dean was saying, his words were slurring together so badly.
"Rufus?" Dean pondered outloud. "Dufus? Mufus?" He continued to run through almost all the letters of the alpahabet. "Bufus? Plufus?" Sam heard a rustle and suddenly the curtains surrounding Dean's bed were flung back revealing Dean's neighbor in the next bed, an older man attached to a heart monitor.
"I'm sorry to cut in." The man said. "But I can't take it anymore."
"It's Lupus." He shouted at Dean. "Lupus!"
"Thanks Dr. Wilson." Dean told him sincerely.
By that point, another nurse entered the room with a wheelchair. She tried to coax Dean into it after taking out the IV's in the back of Dean's hand and the crook of his good arm. Dean was too doped up to protest but also too doped up to even make the hobble from the bed to the chair.
"Should you be moving him so quickly?" Sam asked. Surely, Dean needed a couple more hours to come back from whatever world the morphine had sent him because Dean had no idea what was going on. Sam had spent the last twenty minutes trying to explain to Dean that he didn't have a wife named Cindy and Dean wasn't buying it.
"We need his bed for another patient." Bethany said simply, sliding her hands underneath Dean's arms and lifting him with the surprising strength that nurses seemed to have. Once Dean was seated in the wheelchair, Bethany adjusted the sling around Dean's neck, supporting his broken arm. Dean just grinned at her like a lovesick puppy.
"Thanks Sweetheart." Dean slurred. "And for that, I have a special 'sprise in bed for you tonight."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Bethany replied absentmindedly.
"Me!" Dean winked at her. Bethany gave Sam a stern look, the same look that people give parents when their children aren't behaving.
A grey hair man entered the room, and introduced himself as Dr. Smith, the surgeon who had repaired Dean's arm. He skimmed the clipboard that Bethany had been writing on and glanced at Dean every now and then who was shaking his head slowly from side to side.
"Got him flying kinda high, huh doc?" Sam raised an eyebrow. Dr. Smith winced, rubbing a weary hand over his face as Dean slurred out an objectifying comment yet again at Bethany who was innocently trying to take Dean's vitals.
"Different people react differently." The doctor said. "We have him on a higher dose then I would normally prescribe but he was extremely uncomfortable coming out of surgery and the most important thing is that Dean isn't feeling any pain."
"Noooo pain!" Dean chirped, lifting his head and attempting to focus glassy eyes on Sam. "None. At. All!"
"That's really good, Dean." Sam said and Dean stared up at him from the wheelchair beaming, his pupils tiny pins.
"Reeeealllly good." Dean parroted. Sam couldn't help but grin. "You are so stoned right now, big brother."
Dean just continued to grin his 100 watt smile and let his head drop so that he was staring directly up at the new nurse who was preparing to push his wheelchair.
"Well, hello thereeee."
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