NO TIME TO DIE◦𝒔𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

chapter eleven.

A/N: Some slight smut is in part of this chapter, but it' short and doesn't go into a lot of detail.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN:
DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME.

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"WHAT'S THE DIAGNOSIS?"

"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor softly said, standing near the edge of the hospital bed that Bobby was laid in while Sam and Dean stood off to the side, concern evident on their features. "He seems perfectly healthy."

"Except that he's comatose," Dean retorted, arms folded over his chest and a firm look on his face as his eyes went from Bobby to the doctor.

"Mr. Snyderson, you're his emergency contact," the doctor said, meeting Dean's harsh gaze. "Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

Dean faintly shook his head, stealing a glance towards Sam. "No, he-he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch a cold."

The doctor let out a sigh, his gaze flicking back towards Bobby's unconscious figure.

A maid had found Bobby asleep in his bed of the motel that he was staying in, noticing something was off when he didn't react to her coming in on accident or apologizing for it. She'd attempted to wake him when he didn't respond, but he didn't budge no matter what she did. An ambulance was then called and he was brought to the closest hospital, but they were struggling to find a way to help Bobby in his condition as they couldn't find out what was even wrong. Dean had been called earlier that morning as he was listed as Bobby's emergency contact, he and Sam racing instantly off to see Bobby.

"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" Sam questioned, sorrow circling in his dimmed eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it. . .so we don't know how to treat it," the doctor softly replied, a glum expression on his features. He truly wanted to help, but he just didn't know how he could without knowing what was actually going on with Bobby. "He just. . .went to sleep, and didn't wake up."

Dean and Sam shared a silent look with one another, most likely wondering if Bobby had been working a case that caused him to find himself in an unexplainable coma. Their eyes then flickered back to Bobby, the same thought popping into their minds as Dean thanked the doctor. They left the hospital a few minutes later, heading to the motel Bobby had been staying at to check out his room and see if they could find hopefully something there to explain what was going on.

"So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?" Sam asked as they entered the motel room, his eyes skimming over the plainly decorated room.

"Unless he's takin' an extremely lame vacation. . ." Dean answered, closing the door behind him as they walked into the center of the room. There wasn't much there except for two beds and a small living room area, a round coffee table in the middle of the couches with an empty mug placed near the edge. There were a few dressers pushed against the walls, some newspapers and magazines placed on top of them. A desk was by one of the windows, but there was nothing there except for some pens, a few lore books, and a dusty lamp. There was a suitcase tossed on the spare bed, some more of Bobby's clothes tossed over a chair near a flimsy-looking couch.