Delivered From the Fire
In the last six months there have been too many times where everything caught up with you and you couldn't fight back the tears. Countless times where the soul-rending pain broke free of your iron will and nearly drowned you. There had been no question in your mind that seeing your brother again, watching his chest rise and fall, hearing him draw each live giving breath, you wouldn't be able to hold it all together. You'd been prepared for the inevitable 'chick-flick' moment that would surely occur…and yet when the time came it was nothing like you'd allowed yourself to dream it would be.
The man before you was not the brother you'd lost that night six months before. The Dean you knew and loved was no where to be found in the haunted, hollow shell of a man before you. Wild hazel eye darted around the room, frantic and confused and filled with such utter torment it took your breath away. Dean's lean body trembled uncontrollably and the slightest noise or movement caused him to flinch away in terror. His lips moved silently, over and over again as if he was chanting some mantra deeply ingrained into his tortured soul. It took nearly half an hour before you realized what he was trying to say over and over again and it felt like your heart had shattered into a million pieces because even though there was no recognition in your brothers eyes when they drifted across your face, the word dancing on his lips like a prayer was all too familiar.
"Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy," over and over and over again without sound the word played across his lips and your heart aches to know that through it all, your brother hasn't forgotten you.
You'd been prepared for the breakdown you knew was to come. What you hadn't expected was the sudden calm that fell over you. Your entire life, Dean had protected you and taken care of you. He'd let you rant and rage against the world without judgment. He'd let you scream and sob and rail against him and everything he believed in and still he never turned his back on you. He'd held you, comforted you, and offered the words you needed to hear despite how uncomfortable he was in doing so. Your entire life, Dean had been, said, and done anything and everything you needed him to. Now, looking at the broken soul wearing your brother's face, you knew that it was time for you to take up the mantle of protector.
Dean was huddled in the corner of the shabby motel room still in the same position he'd been in since they'd pulled him from the depths of hell half an hour before. Bobby remained silent, watching a guarding from his position near the door. You drop slowly to your knees in one fluid motion, hand out with the palms facing upwards in supplication. Slowly, cautious yet determined, you move closer and refuse to react to Dean's frightened whimper and terrified flinching away.
Steadily the distance between you and your brother lessens until you're close enough to pull the terrified young man into your arms gently. His body goes rigid and you can feel the tremors that course through him and it rips your heart in two to know that he's so afraid, so broken. Without thinking about it you start to rock him in your arms the way he's done for your so many times, mostly during your childhood.
"Shhhhh," you whisper gently. "I've got you Dean. You're home now big brother. I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you anymore. Shhhhhh. It's ok." You offer up useless platitudes and you know even before they're out of your mouth that they won't have any affect. Your brother's body doesn't relax and the terror shining in his eyes doesn't lessen at all until another quarter hour has passed and then it hits you.
You cup Dean's face between your palms and force him to meet your eyes. The terror and pain you see reflected back at you take your breath away but you don't blink and you don't look away. He's still mouthing the same word, whether he means it as a plea for help, some prayer for salvation, or something else entirely you can't be sure. All you know is that for some reason your brother has been calling for you, your name the only thing left for him to cling to after six agonizing months in hell. And that's when you know.
"Sammy's here Dean." Your words, a mere whisper, have no effect at first but you repeat them again and again. Not "I'm here" but "Sammy's here" because doesn't know who you are. Dean only knows Sammy. Seconds stretch into minutes and the minutes feel like hours and then you see something that makes your heart soar. You catch a glimpse of something other that pain and terror. You see a glimmer of hope, the barest shred of what might be recognition.
"S'mmy" he croaks weakly, his silent mantra finding voice.
"Sammy's here with you Dean." You whispered again, one hand moving to grasp his own and squeeze it gently. "Sammy's not leaving you. I'm right here. Do you remember Dean? Do you know who I am?"
"Sa'my!" Tears have begun flowing down his sunken, pale cheeks and there really is recognition in his eyes now along with a desperate burning hope. The hand not grasped in yours reaches up shakily and he lays it against your cheek almost reverently. Suddenly mind numbing fear flashes in his eyes again along with such a profound pain it nearly stops your heart beating in your chest.
"No Dean, no it's ok. Shhhh, I'm ok. Sammy's ok. I got you out. We're not there, I'm not there. I brought you home. Shhh, you're safe now. We're safe."
With a heart wrenching sob, Dean buries his face in his your shoulder and clings to you for dear life. Hours later Bobby finds the two of you still huddled on the ground, asleep in each other's arms. He doesn't disturb you. He knows better. It will take a long time before either of you recover from the six months of hell you've endured but you will recover. Life will never be the same, neither of you will ever be the same, but you'll deal and you'll get through it together. Dean is alive and you've both been pulled from the hellfire. Now, it's time to put the pieces together and as long as you have each other, you can do it.
The End