Title: There Goes My Hero
Author: tommygirl828 (at) gmail (dot) com
A/N: Ficlet request for a friend. Crossposted to my livejournal and eventually to my website. Feedback always appreciated.
Samsat in the small hotel room that he was sharing with his father and Bobby, and attempted to convince himself that everything was normal. Well, as normal as anything ever was where his family was concerned. He stared at the weird paintings of various farm settings that adorned the walls and tried really hard not to think about their current situation.
The demon that killed his mother and Jess was still out there. The demon had some plan for Sam that he didn't understand and feared he never would. His family was broken and battered from the last encounter and it wouldn't be long before the demon came back to finish what it had started.
Worst of all, Dean wasn't there. Dean was still fighting off the injuries from the first round with the demon, unconscious and unaware of the machines doing all his bodily functions for him. It wasn't right, but Sam couldn't figure out a way to fix it. This was one battle his brother had to fight on his own.
Not thinking about everything, especially about Dean, wasn't working out quite the way Sam had hoped for. Sam had grown so used to his brother's constant presence that he couldn't imagine how he made it through four years at Stanford – his only guess being that knowing Dean was out there and okay made things easier. Sam kept trying over and over to focus on something else, but his mind would move right back over to the fact that Dean wasn't there, that the room was completely lacking of anything that even felt like Dean.
Sam's mind wouldn't let him forget and it was Dean's fault that Sam was unable to concentrate on anything. Reason number one Sam was pissed with his brother: Dean had an uncanny ability for leaving an imprint on any room he was in and any room he hadn't touched felt...empty, wrong, like Sam was betraying his brother by existing without him.
"I'm heading to the hospital to relieve your dad," Bobby said, appearing at the bathroom door and pulling Sam's gaze away from the ugly paintings. "Do you want to come?"
Sam shook his head. His father had suddenly realized, or remembered, what was most important, refusing to leave Dean alone in the hospital, even for a second. Sam almost wanted to applaud his father for the shift in priorities, but the problem was that his father expected Sam to follow right along side with him and share the load.
Honestly, Sam expected to do the same. Prior to the car accident, if someone had asked him where he would be if Dean was ever hurt, his immediate answer would be, "By his side." But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The moment he was released from the hospital, Bobby had driven him to the motel and he hadn't been back. That had been two weeks ago and Sam still couldn't handle the idea of going into that hospital room and facing a Dean that wasn't really his brother.
And that was reason number two why Sam was pissed off at his brother: Dean had promised to always be there for Sam and Sam counted on that. Whether he meant to or not, Dean had broken his promise.
"Are you sure, Sam?"
Sam nodded again. He didn't possess the words that would make his reasoning understandable. He couldn't explain to Bobby that he was furious with Dean and that he was afraid that if he saw Dean so still and pale, he would say something stupid in anger. And Sam knew how Dean reacted to hurtful comments – he might stop fighting – and that was unacceptable.
"The nurses told your father that they believe Dean is aware of John's voice and what's going on. It would mean—"
"—I took some pain killers for my arm about twenty minutes ago and I'm wiped already. I doubt I'd last the drive," Sam replied.
At least for his part, Bobby didn't call Sam on his bullshit excuse. Instead, Bobby shrugged, grabbed his jacket off the other bed, and walked out the door. No fights and no guilt trips.
Not that Sam needed help with the guilt. His father would be sure to lay it on thick and Sam had plenty of his own remorse to mull over. There was so much he already felt guilty about, not visiting an unconscious Dean didn't even register. There was the pained expression on Dean's face as the demon pinned him to the wall and bled him, while Sam did nothing to stop it...there was the fact that the demon had exposed Dean's deepest fears and Sam hadn't gotten the chance to set things right, to tell Dean how much he loved him...there was the truth of the whole thing, that this demon wanted Sam and everyone else was collateral damage, hurt because of him.
Sam heard the rumble of Bobby's truck as it pulled away. Sam leaned back on the bed and shut his eyes. He imagined the disappointed look on his father's face when Bobby arrived without Sam. Sam could see the vein on his father's forehead throb as he shook his head, muttering about Sam's lack of loyalty to his family. Sam could recite the lecture from memory, it was the same one he'd gotten every night since the accident.
Sam didn't care. His father wasn't going to make up for his lack of parental concern in the past with one nice showing. Sam didn't need to prove himself to John Winchester. And even if Sam might've cared, it was lost somewhere between the abject misery and uncontrollable anger he felt for Dean.
His brother always had to get the last word in, even if it got him killed. He just had to needle the demon, so sure that his father wouldn't let the demon hurt him. Fucking stupid asshole. Dean was constantly aggravated with Sam for being impulsive and risking his own damn life, but nothing stopped Dean from stepping between his family and harm's way. As though losing Dean would be so inconsequential to them, as though Sam wouldn't notice the gaping hole in his life where his brother had been.
Fucking Dean.
He had promised to always have Sam's back, but when Sam needed him most, Dean wasn't around. Dean had betrayed Sam in the worst, albeit unintentional, way – he turned out not to be the invincible hero that Sam always thought he was.
Logically, Sam knew he was being ridiculous and behaving like a selfish child. His brother hadn't chosen for the demon to squeeze him dry or for the car crash to leave him with severe head trauma. Logically, Sam knew it would annoy Dean that so many people were fussing over him. Logically, Sam knew that Dean would mock him mercilessly for behaving like this. But logic had no place in Sam's world right then.
It didn't hurt that his anger – toward their father, toward Dean, toward that fucking demon – kept him from becoming an inconsolable wreck. It fueled Sam to push past his pain, to resist the urge to curl up in bed and sleep away the days until this was over, and focus his attention on memorizing every book on demonology he could get his hands on. He took long paragraphs of notes and studied enchantments over and over. He was even able to keep the nightmares at bay, too exhausted from staying so angry with everyone and everything to even dream.
Sam opened his eyes at the familiar sound of his cellphone. It could only be one person and Sam was half-tempted not to answer, fully prepared for his father's "get your ass over here and visit your brother" speech. "What?" Sam snapped into the phone.
"Sammy…"
Every emotion rushed out of Sam at the inflection of his father's voice. "What?"
"Your brother's awake, Sammy."
"Are you…"
"It's over, Sammy. Dean's awake and there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage."
"Are they sure?"
"They're checking on that now. They just took him for some tests, son," his father paused and Sam resisted the urge to press his father for more information. Sam hadn't witnessed his father in an overly-emotional state often, but from the shaky timbre of his father's voice, Sam knew his dad was trying to hold it together. His father let out a slow breath and continued, "He's asking for you, Sammy."
That was all Sam needed to hear. He was still pissed as hell with his brother and planned to make sure his brother never got himself hurt like this again, but that could hold for the time being. Dean wanted Sam by his side and there was nowhere else Sam was going to be.
"I'll be right there."
"I'll send Bobby back to the motel to pick you up."
"Okay…" Sam's voice trailed off as he tried to gather the courage to ask his question. He sighed and said, "Dad?"
"Yeah Sammy?"
"Was Dean mad at me for not being there?"
"He was worried. It took me a few minutes to convince him that you were okay, that I wasn't the…" his father's voice faltered for a moment. "…He's not mad at you."
"What about you?"
"I'm not mad at you either, Sammy."
"But you think I should've been at the hospital."
"I think that you love your brother and were upset, and me pushing you to sit by his side wasn't the right thing to do."
Sam was pretty sure hell had frozen over. It wasn't often that John Winchester admitted to an error in judgment. "None of that matters as long as Dean's going to be alright."
"I think we're all a long way from being okay, but we'll do our best. I know I have a lot to fix, to make up for, especially with your brother."
A weak smile formed on Sam's face and he said, "Baby steps, dad. You don't want Dean to drop dead from shock."
His father chuckled and it was then that Sam felt like everything would okay. The anger, the pain, and the confusion over all that had happened would fade away. He would have his brother and his father back – and right then, that was all that mattered.
Fin