Burn It to the Ground

Maura’s POV.

Of all the goddamn things.

There was absolutely no hope of getting any sleep for quite awhile, so my sister and I were chugging back coffee like each Styrofoam cup full would be the last ever produced. And, if our luck continued at the same pace it was going, they would probably discontinue coffee by the end of the day. We had absolutely no idea who was in the coma because of the stupid insurance cards and considering the fucking doctors wouldn’t let us see them since we weren’t blood relatives. Not that they would have been able to prove whether we were or were not. Idiots.

I was too afraid to look at the large analog clock above the door, not really caring what time was or how long we had been in the godforsaken hospital, waiting for news we weren’t sure we wanted to hear. My hand was almost constantly fiddling with my cellphone as I nervously wondered if this was something I should call our father about. It would piss Kassia off, yes, but would he want to know something like this? What if it had been my sister and I in the accident instead of the Winchesters? I wasn’t sure if it was even something I should be thinking about, but I grasped at it repeatedly like a lifeline. It seemed normal.

“Is it bad that I’m really hoping John’s in a coma?” Asked Kassia, shifting uncomfortably in the cheap pleather waiting room chair while she recharged enough that she could go back into another marathon of bitching out the staff. I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for the poor workers or if I wanted to bitch them out just as much.

I also wasn’t sure how to answer her, except to say that it didn’t really matter how bad it was since we were apparently both thinking it. Instead I just muttered a quick ‘no’ and examined the slightly grimy floor under my feet and wondered how often they actually moped. Really, it was probably pretty bad that we were both hoping that the man our father had worked with and trusted like a brother was in a coma instead of either of his two sons, whom we’d only recently met.

It was just a really screwy situation.

A nurse passed through the waiting room, balancing a clipboard in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other as she entered Kassia’s radar. I was starting to get really relieved that neither one of us had thought to carry any weapons on us, though I could see my sister eyeing a pencil halfway across the room with a slightly unsettling gleam in her eye. If she had had a gun on her, I wouldn’t have put it past her to hold up a doctor and demand to see her little boy toy. Not like I could blame her, though. If I had had a gun, I would have done the exact same thing.

"You know what sounds great?" I asked slowly, draining the lasts drops of coffee from my cup as Kass eyed me wearily.

"Hospital food. Seriously, why aren't we eating cheap enchiladas right now?" And, of course, she gave me a look like I was half-insane and half-evil.

"You do realize how serious this situation is, right? Has that even registered yet?"

The truth was; yes, I completely and entirely understood what was going on and it was effecting me way more than I would ever let anyone know. But I had always been shitty at that stuff...Throw a crazy-ass ghost at me and I'm in my fucking element, but put me in a hospital waiting room with a distressed sister and no idea who might be in a coma and I'm not worth shit.

Not to mention there was an old man crying his eyes out about four seats away from us and I could only assume the worst for him. Whatever that was.

I tiredly pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, settling my chin on my knees and listening to the hum of the vending machine a few feet behind me before closing my eyes and wishing desperately that I could open my eyes and discover that the entire night had just been a very bad dream. And that maybe, just maybe, I could wake up to find that we had never taken the damn case. Though I had to admit, none of this was Diana Taylor's fault, wherever the hell she was.

“Well, that marks one Winchester off the list.” I heard my sister state dryly and my eyes, fighting exhaustion, shot open in a flash.

Standing in the doorway, looking like pure hell, was Sam Winchester.

Sam’s POV.

I either lost consciousness somewhere between the helicopter and the hospital, or they drugged me. Either way, I woke up slowly; confused. The bright white tiled ceiling greeted me with about as much kindness as the nearly blinding fluorescent light and the harsh smell of chemical cleaners.

Surprisingly, I had only been in the hospital so many times in my life. Usually if something went wrong with a case, I fixed Dean up and he fixed me up. However, looking around the room through slightly blurred eyes, neither my brother nor my father were anywhere in sight.

A knot of sharp pain momentarily cleared my head as I tried to sit up too quickly and felt the room start slowly spinning around me; the gaudy painting of a vase of sunflowers tilting dangerously on the off-white wall.

“Good, you’re awake.”

I had to work to focus on the man standing in the open doorway and regarding me with a concerned stare. I didn’t feel bad enough o be in the hospital, let alone have a doctor looking at me with those eyes; I was more concerned with finding out where my brother-and father- were.

“I came in with two other men,” I tried to explain through the pounding in my skull “an older man and a guy a little older than me? Where are they?” The pitying look stayed in the doctor’s eyes as he entered the room and looked over a sheet of paper in his hands. “Are they relatives?” I nodded dazedly, “My brother and father. Are they alright?” I could hear the panic in my own voice at the last question. Of course they were alright, right? We had all been through too much crap for a simple yet brutal wreck to do any of us in.

The man nodded as if he had already guessed and his eyes left the paper and met mine. “The older man, your father, is conscious and stable. Your brother…”

I forced myself up and off of the uncomfortable hospital bed to my feet and paid the price as another wave of pain and dizziness washed over me and nearly knocked me back down, despite the warning look the doctor sent me.

“You really shouldn’t be up and moving just yet-” He advised, only to be interrupted by me once I was able to steady myself enough to speak. “Where is he?” I demanded, feeling slightly relief as my head cleared only to be replaced by growing apprehension.

After a weary glance, he motioned for me to follow him before stopping to ask if I needed a wheelchair. I declined and followed him into the hall.

-

There were only three people in the room, but I saw the old man first; frail and trembling and looking like he was trying pretty hard not to go into what obviously wouldn’t be his first bout of tears. Finally, I saw Kassia off to the corner of the room, sitting impatiently in one of the crappy chairs and staring at a pencil with a weird menace. Then Maura, sitting at a safe distance, was nearly curled up in her own chair with her eyes closed, frowning. Kass caught sight of me first, looking up with a mixture of relief and growing worry.

“Well, that marks one Winchester off the list.” At her sister’s words, Maura’s eyes flew open as if someone had shot her and she was out of her seat in less than a second, crossing the room at a surprising speed for someone who appeared to have just woken up.

I tried not to flinch from pain as she threw her arms around me and buried her face in my shoulder. I did my best to ignore the pain in my ribs and hugged her close, surprising myself at how something so simple could make me feel.

“I’m glad you’re not dead.” As Kassia spoke, I released Maura and turned back to the redhead, hoping she wasn’t about to ask what I thought she was.

“But where’s Dean?”

I thought back to seeing my brother virtually dying; in a coma surrounded by doctors and nurses just trying to keep him around for as long as they could. The doctor that had greeted me when I woke up had informed me that they didn’t know if he would survive or not, before going into an extensive description of his injuries and the odds. How was I supposed to recount that? I had a hard time even remembering how helpless my older brother had looked connected to so many wires and tubes.

I swallowed down the mysterious lump in my throat and tried to think how to word something like that.

“They don’t know anything for sure.” I settled with, hoping that left enough hope for all of us to hang on to. It didn’t.

In quick, final movements, Kassia was out of her chair and out of the eerily quiet room like a bat out of hell.