Back To Bed

Chapter 7

--------------Laura---------------

The next few weeks were hard. The bunker is huge, and walking around was tiring. Sam and Dean were a big help, but still it was a difficult transition to readjust the entire dynamic of the bunker to fit my needs. I actually felt really bad about it, like it was my fault. Well it is my fault.

Normally I do all the laundry in the bunker. I know how everyone, even Charlie, Kevin, Cas, even Crowley when's he here, I know how they like their clothes washed and kept.

Also I do most of the grocery shopping, typically me and Sam do that together. Then either Sam or Dean cooks. Sam does most of the meal planning. Dean keeps the house clean, which he's actually really good at. Vacuuming, dusting, polishing the artifacts, tidying the desks and work benches.

But now... It's different. I can't do the laundry, because I have to climb the stairs to get to the laundry room. I can fold the clothes, but I can't carry the baskets of folded clothes to our individual rooms. I can't go shopping with Sam, because I can't walk for that long. I feel useless...

All of my time was spent sitting on the couch or in my bed accompanied by one of the boys. All the pain killers and drugs the doctors gave me to help the healing make me get more sleep than I've ever needed. When I am conscious, I practice walking. I feel bad about it, having to be with someone all the time... I'm a burden on them.

Plus they have to eat, or at least prepare the shitty health food I'm having to eat. It doesn't taste very good, and it's all basically mush, because that's all my stomach can stand to digest right now.

Dean drives me to my doctors appointments... I have at least one a week. I get new prescriptions, things are added or taken away from my diet, my scars get checked, he makes me walk around the office and gives me corrections of more comfortable ways to stand while walking with my injury. Dean fell asleep in at least 3 of them.

I didn't even realize it, but I fell into a sort of depression. I couldn't help it. I was now completely useless. We couldn't hunt, so that meant people losing their lives, I couldn't eat good food, I couldn't do any of my favorite activities, I wasn't even allowed to drive. The boys noticed... But there was nothing they could do, but make sure I ate my mush, took my medicines, and made sure I didn't fall when I practiced walking.

This seemed to stretch on forever. And even when I became more proficient at walking again, I still was in a depression. Keeping quiet. Watching movies and reading the same novels over and over again. I found myself thinking about that night, alone in a spare room. Staring blankly at a bare wall.

"If I had just let Sam or Dean get the door..."

"Well no, that's stupid Laura. If one of them had opened the door they would probably be dead."

"That's very true Laura. The only reason he didn't take the knife out and stab you again was because he thought he would be killing one of the boys,"

"Yes, I suppose you're right Laura... It's better that I'm taking the weight of it,"

"You're still a burden on them though. All that money that's being drained from innocent peoples credit cards to pay for your treatments,"

"All the things the boys now have to do for you... Just for you to sit there and live. You can't really do anything for them anymore,"

"Did you ever really do anything for them in the first place?"

"I suppose not. I was a pretty terrible hunter in the field,"

"Yes, but you were good at cataloging hunts and organizing research,"

"Oh, and you were good at getting the necessary information from witnesses,"

"That's true. I was pretty good at that,"

"Yes, but... Now you're immobile. And let's be honest Laura, you're talking to yourself,"

"That's not healthy Laura,"

"Then stop doing it,"

"I can't,"

"See what I mean. You're reasoning with yourself. Why you are even alive anymore,"

"Yeah, that's for sure not healthy,"

"It's not like, I'm telling myself lies,"

"Yeah. Being honest with myself. That's gotta count for something,"

"Still... What are you going to do about it? You are still dead weight on the boys,"

"Well... I'm still healing... So... I suppose I'll just have to stay dead weight for a while. And then maybe things will go back to normal,"

"Laura... You've never had normal. You know that don't you,"

"Of course I do, Laura,"

"So then that last statement was redundant,"

"Yes... I suppose you're right,"

"So answer the question again Laura. What now?"

"Let's be honest. I don't know,"

"I've never had a normal... I've had routines that i either chose to follow, or was forced to follow-"

"More often the latter,"

"So... I guess I'll just fall into a new routine. It might not be the same as before, but it'll be just like any other time in this life. Habitual,"

"This is a sad existence, Laura,"

"I can't help it,"

"No. No you can't,"

"I guess God just decided that my life was just not going to be an enjoyable one,"

"Well, no one lives a particularly enjoyable life, Laura,"

"I know that. Just some are more... Fortunate... In regards to pain,"

"Nicely worded Laura,"

"Thank you Laura,"