Better Left Unsaid
AU Tag to Faith:
Maybe Dean shouldn't have asked…
"Dean, I just spoke with Layla's mom." Sam watched his brother carefully as Dean turned to face him, and tried to suppress a grimace. No one liked being the bearer of bad tidings but in this particular case, after that particular hunt, Sam definitely wondered if Dean would shoot the messenger. After all, even Sam blamed himself.
Sam swallowed nervously, sadly, before continuing. "Layla passed away last night." There was a huge yawning silence. "I'm sorry man; I know she was supposed to have a few months left, but she had a seizure and lost consciousness….if it's any consolation the end was peaceful…." And he really shouldn't have said that.
Dean's face turned from blank to deadly in seconds, green eyes sparking angrily. "Consolation? You think there's a consolations prize in all this?" Dean, in spite of the calm tone, took a threatening step towards Sam. Instead of backing off Sam just stared at him sadly, which made Dean feel even worse.
"Dean, it wasn't your fault."
Another step closer.
"Oh really? I get to live but she gets to die. That the consolations prize you wanted Sam?" Dean stopped his advance and full on glared at his younger brother.
Sam rolled his eyes a little in frustration. "That's not what I meant. We did the right thing putting a stop to Sue-Ann."
"Yeah. How convenient" Dean sneered. "I get cured and then we put a stop to her!" He jabbed a finger sharply at Sam's chest. "Tell me somethin' Sam. If you'd known, would you still have taken me there? Would you still have let Roy cure me knowing that it was taking someone else's life? Huh? Answer me!" And carried on poking Sam in the chest, until he finally snapped.
"Yes! With hindsight, I'd have dragged your ass there a damn sight sooner! Ok? That what you wanted to hear?" Sam hissed as he grabbed Dean's upper arms in desperation, his face a twisted mask of fear and grief. Voice lowered to almost a whisper, tears free-falling down his face, he added. "Jess is gone, Dad's missing…I swear to God I couldn't have coped….If I'd lost you too." Sam stared into Dean's eyes, willing him, pleading with him to understand.
But the look of disbelief on his older brother's face said otherwise.
"You'd have willingly and knowingly allowed them to sacrifice an innocent person, just to save me?"
Sam flinched at the tone which said more than Dean's words ever could.
Murder?
You disgust me.
Dean grabbed his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. "Get in the car Sam. Let's get this over with." He turned and strode to the Impala without looking back.
The journey may have been silent, not even music to fill the gap, but the atmosphere was loaded with tension.
The boys didn't even look at each other. When they got to the frozen food warehouse, not a word was spoken. There was no need to discuss the hunt, having researched it to death before Sam took the phone call about Layla.
First chance he got, Dean slipped away to scan the upper levels for EMF. Sam took the hint and stayed on the ground floor, keeping his mind focussed on finding the spirit rather than his brother's continued silent treatment. Sam refused to apologise; he wasn't afraid to admit that he would have done anything to save Dean, and he was pretty sure Dean would have done the same.
Though judging by the last look his brother had thrown his way before ascending the stairwell, maybe not so much anymore.
Sam moved with slow purpose through the main entrance hall, sawn-off and flashlight held in front. Back to the wall, he stopped for a second to listen then moved off again. In front of him were a vast array of freezer rooms, and seeing as Dean had the damn EMF meter Sam was gonna have to search every single one.
He sighed with frustration and fervently hoped he wouldn't find any victims down here that had perhaps been missed by the cops day before last. It was how they'd discovered the hunt. The foreman had put in a missing persons report for three of his workers, but when he found one of them frozen to death in one of the freezer rooms, the cops had swept the place and
found not only all three missing employees stiff as boards, but once the ice had been chipped away found two others as well. They'd supposedly gone on vacation a few weeks ago so no one knew these people were also missing. The gruesome story had made the headlines. But the moral of it, as Dean had stated rather tastelessly in Sam's opinion, was 'it's wise to defrost. Often.'
Sam shuddered at the thought.
Reaching out and gripping the handle of the first room, Sam pulled lightly and the door opened with a soft click. Pushing it wide open he glanced round. It appeared to be completely empty, the cops having taken everything as evidence. It didn't feel that cold and Sam could only assume it had been switched off in light of its disuse.
Just as he was about close up, Sam felt himself shoved violently from behind and he all but flew into the room landing heavily on his left arm, the door slamming shut behind him. Before he was even on his feet, clutching and wincing at what felt like a bad break, he heard the whirr and click as the overhead strip light came on and the freezer unit started up. Small drafts of super-cooled air began to circle the room, ruffling his hair and making him shiver lightly.
There was no latch on the inside. Sam was trapped.
Sam staggered over to the temperature gage by the door and watched fearfully as the mercury levels began to plummet. Hands already shaking from the cold, Sam fumbled in his jacket pocket for his cell phone, dropping it twice before he was able to get a firm enough grip to hit speed dial. Sam knew he didn't have long before the room became so cold he'd stop functioning altogether, but the cell phone would go first. And it was Sam's only lifeline.
Holding the cell phone to his ear, breath fogging the air, he waited desperately for his brother to answer.
"P..P…Please, D….Dean p…p….pick up…p…" His voice trailed off as his vocal cords became compromised and his body became racked by violent shivering. The temperature plunged further taking Sam's breath with it. He blinked in shock, unable to believe just how cold the room had become in such a short space of time.
On what felt like the hundredth ring, Dean finally answered.
"Yup."
Sam opened his mouth but nothing came out except a gasped squeak. Now it felt as though his voice box had frozen solid, and he tried to raise the hand of his broken arm to his throat.
"Sam?" Concern had crept into Dean's voice by this time.
"D…De…tr..trap….s.s.so c-cold…." Sam finally managed to ask for his brother's help before his voice gave out altogether. And so did the cell phone.
Sam slid down until his frozen butt was resting on the now icy floor, and wrapped his arms round his chest, hands jammed under his arm pits, desperately trying to keep warm. His hands and feet felt like they were on fire and tears filled his eyes from the pain.
"D…" He knew it was stupid to fall asleep, but he was sooo cold, and now he couldn't think straight, and his brother was disgusted with him…
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Dean hadn't even got started on his search of the upstairs units when his cell phone started ringing. He knew without looking at the caller ID that it was Sam and was sorely tempted not to answer.
Dean was still unbelievably angry with his brother. The fact that he had virtually condoned Sue-Ann's murderous and judgmental behaviour was just sickening, and hypocritical to boot. No one had the right to play God, not even grief-stricken little brothers, and though he accepted that Sam hadn't realised what was going on at the time, his admission that he wouldn't have stopped it even if he had….
Dean sighed. He knew he had to calm down. Sure, he understood Sam's reasons, but frankly Dean was starting to wish he hadn't asked.
He flipped open his cell, took a deep breath and spoke. "Yup."
He frowned when no sound came accept for a small mouse-like noise and wondered for a moment if it was a wrong number. Checking the display he raised an eyebrow; definitely Sam.
"Sam?"
He could tell it was Sam even though the message was somewhat garbled. And short. Very short, because Dean was shouting his brother's name into the speaker before he even realised the call had been cut off.
"Shit!" Dean raced back down to the ground floor. He reasoned that Sam couldn't have gotten too much further into his search so he had to be nearby. His little brother was in trouble and needed his help now.
D…De…tr..trap….s.s.so c-cold…
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sam had become trapped in one of the units and was freezing to death.
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Sam felt himself tip over and could do nothing to stop it. He lay on his side, no longer shivering, could no longer feel the throbbing ache in his broken limb. In fact he felt almost peaceful and even stopped wondering where he was and what he was doing there. As conscious thought began the steady decline, Sam discovered to his relief that he no longer cared.
Severe hypothermia was setting in, though if you'd asked him right now Sam couldn't have even spelled the word.
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"Sam?" Dean called out; though he knew if his guess was correct there was no way Sam could hear him. "Sammy? If you can hear me answer me buddy!"
He knew the instant he got there which storage unit Sam was in, because it was the only one switched on.
"Sam!" The tiny window was iced up, but when Dean peered inside he could just about see a shape lying in front of the door, curled in a ball.
A shape that looked worryingly like his little brother. And he wasn't moving.
"Aw crap Sam, you know you're not supposed to fall asleep with hypothermia!" Dean rapped on the window with his knuckles. "Hey! Wake up!"
And was greeted with a big fat zero. No answering movement or apologetic little-brother-face peering at him from the other side of the glass. Dean tugged on the door handle but it felt like it was locked down tight, and his concern over Sam's lack of response was growing each second. When his frantically searching gaze caught a glance at the temperature read out, Dean's eyes widened with fear.
There was no way Sam could survive those conditions for long. He had to get him out fast.
A quick examination of the immediate area revealed nothing of use.
He wasn't keen on the idea in case the bullet ricocheted and hit Sam, but shooting out the lock seemed the only option. After pulling out the Glock and replacing the rock salt pellets with lead rounds, he tried to stay calm and took careful aim. Three loud retorts later and the door swung open.
"Sammy?" Dean dropped, immediately seeking a pulse. He was shocked at just how cold Sam was, and only just made out the sluggish thump-thump beneath blue skin. "Come on Sam, wake up for me." He rolled Sam onto his back and dragged him out of the freezer, praying all the while that his kid brother was still breathing.
"Thank God!" Dean muttered, when he spotted Sam's chest was rising and falling, though the greatly reduced rate had Dean feeling distinctly uneasy.
He'd hoped to get Sam back to the motel and treat him for hypothermia, but Dean was pretty sure it had gone way too far for basic first aid. Sam needed professional medical help right away.
Dean picked up the discarded sawn-off and quickly hid it at the back of one of the other units along with his own weapons, vowing to come back later and retrieve them.
"Ok Sam. Let's get you warmed up little bro." Dean whispered, disappointed and scared when Sam still didn't respond to his voice.
Muttering soft reassurances, he shrugged out of his leather jacket and cradled his brother close, trying to warm him with his own body heat, at the same time wrapping his jacket round both their shoulders. Dean put in the 911 call then settled back to wait, hoping that the bluish tinge to Sam's skin would fade sooner rather than later. Periodic checking on Sam's breathing and heart rate still showed his condition to be serious, even when the emergency team arrived, sporting heated blankets and warm IV fluids.
Standing helplessly on the sidelines, Dean watched anxiously as the EMTs fought to stabilise Sam, calling out instructions and wrapping him in the blankets. Sam remained unconscious as they gave him humidified oxygen via a mask and carefully lifted him onto a stretcher.
Wondering if Sam felt as numb as he did right now, Dean followed them out to the waiting ambulance. Briefly running a gentle hand through Sam's hair, he leaned over his brother.
"You're gonna be ok, Sam. I promise." He whispered in his ear. Dean nodded to the EMTs then turned and raced over to the Impala, hurriedly started the engine and took off in pursuit of the ambulance.
Dean panicked on arriving outside the emergency room when the medical team rushed Sam into the building. It seemed that things had turned bad in the ambulance, because his brother now had a breathing tube in his mouth and a supporting collar round his neck to keep him immobilised. Dean also noticed with some shock that Sam's left arm appeared to be wrapped in an inflatable splint.
How the hell did he break his arm?
On meeting the doctor-in-charge Dean had a story ready.
Dean and Sam were thrill-seeking students that'd heard rumours of the storage centre being haunted, and a dare ensued….ad nauseum. The ER doctor had shaken his head in despair and muttered something about dumbass kids, before heading off to treat Sam for severe hypothermia.
He didn't want to leave his brother so Dean placed a call to an old family friend whilst he lurked in the waiting room.
"Pastor Jim? It's Dean….yeah. I know it's been a long time, but I need a favour…."
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Dean sat and waited.
And waited.
And fell into a light doze.
And still waited.
By the time the doctor re-emerged with news of Sam, he was starting to wonder if his ass had become fused to the seat.
"Mr Carter? If you'd like to follow me please."
Dean stumbled along wearily behind the rather tall and hooked nosed ER doctor until he was shown into a room with some weird bleeps, clicks and hisses.
Huh?
He blinked and his vision cleared to reveal his still unconscious brother lying in bed, but this time without a tube wedged in his mouth. Instead, Sam was being given warm oxygen via a thin tube attached to his nose, which was a definite improvement and Dean could feel himself breathing easier.
The doctor went into some rather graphic detail about Sam's treatment that made Dean grimace and wince. Apparently the hypothermia had been so severe that the ER team had washed out Sam's abdominal cavity, chest, stomach and even his bladder with warm fluids, and he was still receiving warm saline through an IV drip. Dean was instructed to keep Sam still and calm should he awake because he was still cold and an arrhythmia had developed in the ambulance.
At Dean's pointed glance the doctor added "irregular heart beat." It was by sheer miracle Dean didn't panic hearing that, especially after what had gone on with their last couple of hunts.
Once the doctor left, still shaking his head at their stupidity, Dean sat close by his brother, watching and waiting. He wondered if Sam would be able to hear him if he started talking and decided that it didn't matter. Right now, Dean wasn't sure what to say.
Sam was going to be ok, eventually, but that just brought him back to the argument before the hunt.
He thought of the question.
The question.
The damn stupid question.
And the reason he knew it was damn stupid: if the roles had been switched, then yes.
His answer would've been the same.
And Dean wouldn't have hesitated either.
Making a mental note to ask Sam about his left arm, he reached out and lightly grasped Sam's right wrist, gratefully noting that his finger nails were no longer blue. Gently tracing a circling pattern on the back of his hand, Dean gazed at his brother, a hint of a smile twitching his mouth.
The brothers were more alike than even John Winchester knew.
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Sam sat on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs and lightly scuffing the floor with his sneaker-clad feet, as he waited for Dean to come back. He was glad to be getting out of here though he was kinda nervous because his brother had barely spoken to him since he woke up. He tried not to worry about it, especially as his doctor had warned him to take it easy for a few weeks, but it bugged Sam and he wondered if Dean was gearing up for another huge fight.
He sincerely hoped not. Feeling soul weary and still more than a little weak from his encounter with the Arctic Circle, the last thing Sam needed was an argument. He decided to just keep silent for now, and if Dean mentioned it he would just shrug and agree with whatever he said. He didn't have the energy to do anything else.
"Ok Sam, let's go." Dean announced as he appeared in the doorway. Sam rose shakily to his feet and trudged slowly passed his brother without raising his head or meeting Dean's watchful gaze in any way.
When settled in the car, Sam hadn't even waited for Dean to slide behind the wheel before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the passenger window.
He heard the low purr as the engine started and felt the car pull away, for once in a genteel manner. Still Sam remained quiet.
Dean glanced at him worriedly. "Sam, maybe you should have stayed a bit longer. You still don't look so good." In fact the only improvement as far as Dean could see was that Sam was now shockingly pale, but that had to be better than the Papa Smurf look he was sporting on admission to hospital a few days ago.
"I'm fine." Was the quiet, weary answer.
"Pastor Jim took care of that spirit in the warehouse. He just sprayed some holy water and exorcised the bastard." Dean smirked and continued trying to get a response. "If only we'd thought of that huh?"
"Mmhmm."
"He found our weapons and returned them just before you woke up. So we're fully loaded." Dean raised an eyebrow.
"What's the next hunt?" Sam still had his eyes closed and Dean sighed.
"Sammy," he spoke his brother's name softly. "You almost died kiddo. And don't forget I was there when the doc said you needed some downtime." Dean reached across the seat to
lightly squeeze Sam's shoulder when his little brother finally turned to face him in surprise. "No more hunts for the time being ok?"
Sam blinked at him. "But…"
"I mean it Sam." Dean released his grip and concentrated on the road ahead.
Sam stared out the windshield for a second, before he swallowed hard and glanced back at his older brother. If he can make an effort. "Dean…about Sue-Ann…"
"Drop it Sam." Dean's tone was still soft, but there was something else there. "I get it. It doesn't matter now."
Sam slowly smiled to himself when he realised what that meant
Yeah it was a little twisted but so was life.
And death.
And so were the hard decisions that sometimes had to be made.
And Dean really shouldn't have asked.
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Author's notes:
Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot and that it made some sort of sense. But it was a question that ran through my mind on more than one occasion: If Sam had known right from the start, would he still have allowed it to go ahead to save his brother's life? And no matter which way I look at it, I have to say that I'm not at all sure he would. Maybe if this had happened in season 3...? I'm curious to hear your thoughts. Could make an interesting debate.
Once again my apologies for not having caught up with reviews and review replies. Will hopefully be back on the ball after my mates wedding this weekend.
Cheers for all R&Rs, even the anonymous ones.
Kind regards,
ST.xxx.