OK so this is my first fanfiction attempt. I hope you enjoy!
Thanks in advance for reading!
Disclaimer: love 'em, but don't own them.
Chapter 1
The soothing sounds of the rain hitting the windshield had lulled him into a deep stare into the darkness ahead. His mind was nowhere, his thoughts, the same; just a deep stare into the darkness ahead of him. His eyes were heavy, his muscles ached. It was the trickle of liquid seeping from his head and down his cheek that snapped him back to reality. Yet, he ignored it.
"Dean, you're bleeding again". The voice made him jump. For a moment he'd forgotten that someone else was in the car with him. Ignoring the voice and the trickle, he kept his gaze fixated on the darkness ahead. He just couldn't muster the energy it took to respond.
"Dean, wipe your face." Again, the energy to respond escaped him. Just the stare was all he could muster. "Dean, can you hear me. Wipe your face man, you're bleeding again." Silence was the only response from the driver.
"Earth to Dean." The voice was starting to take a concerned tone. "Dean, you still with me man?" Still, silence was the only reply.
He wanted to respond to his brother, the energy just escaped him. He was just too tired.
"Dean?" The voice again. "Dean, I am starting to get worried here man. You with me?"
Knowing that the voice wasn't going to give up, he pulled himself away from the darkness. "Uh...hmmmm...yeah, Sam I am still with you. Sorry."
"You OK, Dean? You kinda checked out there for a bit. You're bleeding again, wipe your face." Sam's voice was now showing more concern. "Do you want me to drive for a while?"
"No, I'm good". Not wiping his face, not turning to look at Sam.
"OK". Sam's concern was growing. But he knew when to drop it, so he did. He resigned himself to sit in the silence and wait until his brother was finally ready to open up.
Between the rain and windshield wipers, he finally saw the approaching town. Still resigning himself to silence, he pulled into the first motel parking lot and put the car in park. Taking his cue from this all to familiar drill, Sam jumped out of the car and into the rain. His long legs carried him under the flashing neon vacany sign and into the office.
Relishing a few moments away from his brothers scrutinizing eye, he finally used his sleeve to wipe the blood from the side of his face. It was already thick and sticky. Shifting in his seat, he took a further inventory, ribs bruised but not broken, headache but no apparent concussion, blood from several sources; head, left arm, right arm, left side, just a few stitches should suffice. Maybe.
"Room 102". He jumped as his brother opened the door and hopped in.
Still in silence, he started the car and headed to yet another hole in the wall hotel room. In yet another no named town.
As the steamy hot water fell onto his aching body, Sam's thoughts turned to his brother's silence and the fact that for the first time ever his brother let him shower first. He replayed the evening over in his head. It has been a typical salt and burn. Yeah, Dean got toss around a bit, but no more than usual. He couldn't help but laugh at that comment. How usual is it to get tossed around, beaten and bruised as your job. Resigning himself to the idea that Dean was just tired, he returned his thoughts to the soothing hot water and how great it felt. Losing himself in the feeling, he realized that he'd been in much to long and the hot water was starting to fade. "Shit!" he muttered aloud, Dean was going to kill him.
Hopping out of the shower, he quickly dried off, surveyed the few bruises on his arm. He couldn't help but note the irony of the fact that Dean always came off from every hunt worse for wear than he did. He promptly brushed his teeth, gathered his clothes and went to face this music with Dean.
Opening the bathroom door, he peered out to see Dean exactly where he'd left him 30 minutes before, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring directly ahead. Still bleeding, still wearing his clothes; sitting.
"Dean", he started, "Man, I am sorry; I lost track of time and used all of the hot water. Guess that's the last time you will let me shower first - huh?"
Silence.
"Dean!"
"Uh...what? What Sam?"
"Dean, you OK?"
"Yeah...uh...did you say something?"
"Yeah, Dean. I used all of the hot water. Sorry man, lost my head for a bit". Sam awaited his brother's wrath at his admission.
"S'ok Sammy". Dean slurred as he stood and walked into the bathroom.
Staring in the bathroom mirror, he peeled off the clothes that were now sticking to his skin via the dried blood and surveyed the damages. Yep, ribs bruised but not broken, headache but no apparent concussion, blood from several sources; head, left arm, right arm, left side, just a few stitches should suffice, but they would have to wait until after he showered.
Turning on the water, he stepped into the lukewarm stream and washed the day away. Ignoring the water, ignoring the pain and stiffness.
Sam was sitting on the bed, cradling the first aid kit when he walked from the bathroom. "Geez Sam, mother hen much?" Dean exclaimed.
"Well, Dean you don't want to bleed to death from a simple salt and burn do you?" Sam retorted, "Let me just patch you up, then you can continue your bad mood on your own."
With that Dean sat on the bed and silently watched as Sam stitched and bandaged his skin. He practically jumped when Sam alerted him that we were done. "Thanks, Sammy", Dean replied and fell onto the bed. Sam's concern was growing; Dean didn't even flinch while Sam stitched his skin. He knew Dean was tough, but this was out of the ordinary. However, knowing Dean well enough, he knew he shouldn't press the issue. Sam climbed under his covers, closed his eyes and waited for his Tylenol to kick in. Just as he was closing his eyes to fall into blissful sleep, he heard Dean stir.
"Uh….Hmmmmm" came from Dean's side of the room.
"Dean, you OK?"
No Response.
"Dean?"
"Sam, do you ever think about it?"
"Think about what Dean?"
"The job. The life."
"Of course Dean, but what are you getting at?"
"The grave tonight. The body, the salt and burn. She was a mom Sam. The headstone said 'Beloved Wife and Mother'".
"Yeah, Dean. I saw it, it's not the first 'Beloved Wife and Mother' that we have salted and burned'. What's your deal? What does that have to do with the job or the life?"
Dean fell silent. "Dean?"
"Never mind".
"No, Dean. Tell me what's on your mind. It's obvious something is; I just wanna help."
More silence.
"Dean?" Sam called out in the darkness. "Seriously man, what's going on?"
"You ever thought about it, Sam? I have a lot lately. There will never be a Mrs. Dean Winchester, beloved wife and mother."
The desperation in the words ripped through Sam's heart taking his breath way. Dean was down to mere months before his time was up. He couldn't have Dean giving up now. He knew they'd find a way out of the deal, but only if Dean stayed committed. The desperation in his brother's voice told him that Dean had doubts. Dean couldn't doubt.
"Dean, man", Sammy replied, finding it hard to speak with the confidence needed at the moment. "You don't know that. We still have time. We have, what, two and half months left? Dean, that's plenty of time. I am not going to let you go anywhere, we ARE going to find a way to get your out of this deal. Hell, you'll probably out live me and Bobby. You'll have plenty of time to do whatever it is that you want to do."
Sam was working hard at sounding confident, to keep his voice from breaking, as the tears began to stream down his face. They still had time, he knew it. He was going to do whatever it took to get Dean out of this deal. Whatever it took.
The silence in the room was haunting. It was Dean who finally broke it.
"Ok, Sam-my. Good." Dean voice broke. Sam knew he was crying too. But, he knew not better than to call Dean out on it. Dean was the strongest man he'd ever known. He'd spent his entire life looking up to his older brother. Dean was his hero, his mentor, his protector. Dean was his life. He owed Dean everything. The sound of Dean's voice breaking, the tears Sam knew where coming from his brother was just too much to take.
Sam slowly rose from his bed. Second guessing his next move as soon as his feet his the floor.
"Move over", he said while lowering himself in Dean's bed. Dean didn't protest. He simply rolled to his side and slid to the edge of the bed. Sam wasn't sure what scared him more, the tears he saw shimmering on Dean's face, or the fact that Dean was now accepting a chick flick moment from him.
Sam rolled to his side, wrapped his arms around his big brother, careful not to shake his injured brother. Sam could feel Dean shaking. He knew it wasn't from his injuries. Dean was scared; hurting. He could feel the occasional splash of wetness hitting the arm that was now resting under Dean's neck. He knew those were tears. Dean's tears. Each drop this hit his skin caused Sam's heart to skip a beat. Sam didn't move, he didn't even know he was holding his breath, until the sounds of Dean's light snores caused him to let it out.
Placing his lips to Dean's ears. Sam whispered, "Dean, I promise. No, I swear. I will do whatever it takes to get you out of this man. With every ounce of my being, I promise, swear there will be a Mrs. Dean Winchester. Dean…I promise. I love you man." Sam knew Dean was asleep and didn't hear him. Sam wasn't even sure if he'd uttered the words for Dean to hear or simply to reassure himself.
Sam didn't sleep. He just lay next to Dean, like they did when they were kids and Dean would come in and rescue Sammy from all his nightmares. But this nightmare was real and it was Sam who was doing the rescuing.
TBC...