Sam stumbled through the hotel room's door ahead of Dean. He had barely passed the threshold when he staggered, nearly falling over his own feet. Dean was at his side in an instant, grabbing his forearm and guiding him to a chair. He helped Sam to sit and then finished carrying in their bags.
When Dean looked back at Sam he watched his brother's head nod slowly down to his chest before jerking up again painfully. Sam needed sleep.
"Alright Sasquatch, time for bed," Dean insisted, using a tone that their father often had.
He could see the fear and panic that began to well behind Sam's eyes and immediately felt guilty for being so forceful; he knew that Sam was scared to go to sleep but damn, at the moment that's what the kid needed most.
He softened his tone, stepping closer so that Sam could see that there was only compassion and concern behind his own eyes, "Come on Sam, you're like the walking dead right now. I know you're exhausted…"
Sam cut him off, "Dean, I can't sleep now! Every time I try he's there… You don't know what it's like… I… I'm afraid of what he'll do…"
Dean felt his heart throb, his little brother was terrified.
"Sammy, he isn't real,"
"I know," Sam answered, "But that doesn't make it hurt less…"
Dean reached out, taking Sam's arms and pulling him into a standing position. When his brother swayed unsteadily, he snaked an arm around his waist, half dragging Sam to the bed. Sam practically fell on it and Dean tugged off his brother's boots.
"It's going to be okay Sammy," Dean assured him as he pulled the covers over Sam's hulking frame and sat on the edge of the bed, "I'm here. I'll protect you. But you have to try to sleep,"
Sam wanted to resist, every ounce of his being wished for him to jump up and go down another triple shot espresso mocha. But his very cells were unable to resist the softness of the bed or the welcoming warmth of its covers. His eyes had just started to flutter shut when he felt Dean's weight shift off the bed.
His eyes flew open and he reached out, desperately searching for Dean's hand to draw him back to the bed.
Dean was beside him again in an instant, taking Sam's hand in his own and gently squeezing it, "Easy kiddo, easy, I'm right here,"
Sam's voice was broken and Dean could see that he was fighting down tears, "Stay," he pleaded, "Just stay… don't leave me…"
Dean fought back the lump in his throat, "Course I'd never leave you Sammy," then he nudged his brother's hip, "Scoot over,"
Sam obliged and Dean sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out, just barely touching Sam. When Sam turned on his side (as Dean knew he would, Sammy had always slept on his side since they were kids) Dean moved closer and rested a hand on his brother's back, rubbing small circles there.
Sam felt warm and comforted. He allowed himself to dip into sleep but his happiness quickly turned to horror. He knew immediately that yet another nightmare with Lucifer awaited him.
Sure enough, the dream started as it always did. He found himself bound to a large stone table in the center of a very dark room. The chains on his wrists and ankles bit into his flesh and the metallic smell of blood forced itself upon him. He could feel the wounds that Lucifer had already inflicted – broken ribs, deep gashes, bruises that went all the way to the bone – and he waited in fear, dreading the moment when the fallen angel would return to inflict more pain. But he didn't have to wait long.
Lucifer approached the table with an evil grin, "Why hello Sam, it's been a while hasn't it?"
Sam closed his eyes, whispering to himself, "Not real, not real, not real…"
"Oh Sammy, that isn't going to work. You came to me. By choosing to sleep you've let me take over your mind. I'm as real as you are here,"
Sam shook his head, continuing his mantra.
Lucifer smiled again, "Let me show you just how real I am," and with that he picked up a knife, bringing it to Sam's stomach.
Dean felt Sam go rigid beneath his hands and knew that his brother was having a nightmare. He felt horribly guilty but a part of him assured that Sam had to sleep, nightmares or not.
He leaned over his brother's sleeping form and brushed the hair back from his forehead while whispering, "Come on Sammy, it's okay. I'm right here, it's all gonna be okay,"
Lucifer was an efficient butcher; he brought Sam to tears after several slices and then set back to admire his work. The youngest Winchester was gasping, nearly sobbing as blood flowed down his chest and abdomen.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, don't break so easily," Lucifer taunted, "You're a Winchester! My, would your daddy be ashamed,"
When Sam didn't answer Lucifer rolled his eyes, "Here kid, let's give you something real to cry about!"
As Lucifer approached Sam tried desperately to pull away but the chains kept him in place. He could only flinch away as Lucifer laid a hand on his shoulder.
"This has been fun, do join me again soon," and with that Lucifer shoved his hand down and the air filled with Sam's agonized scream and the cracking sound of the bones in his shoulder as they broke.
"Oh and do tell Dean I said hi," Lucifer added, jerking Sam's arm forward so that the bones ground against each other and raised a desperate cry from Sam.
"…MMY! SAMMY!" Sam vaguely realized that Dean was yelling his name but all he could do was curl into a tighter ball, fighting against the pain and the memories. Slowly the agony faded into a dull ache.
"Sammy, look at me," Dean begged and at last Sam found it in himself to look up and meet his brother's gaze.
"Oh thank God," Dean began, "You screamed Sam… I… I didn't know what to do. You must have had one hell of a nightmare!" then he noticed the pained expression on Sam's face, the tears that continued to stream silently down his face, "Jesus Sammy, you okay?"
Sam tried to speak but found that he could only let out a sob and shake his head desperately.
"He hurt you?" Dean asked angrily.
Sam nodded and continued sobbing, his hand going to his shoulder as he rasped out, "He… he broke it…"
The horror within Dean grew and he quickly brought his hands to Sam's shoulder to examine it. Was it possible that Lucifer had somehow been able to physically harm Sam in his dream? Sam moaned at Dean's touch but leaned into it anyway, needing to feel the warmth of his brother beside him.
Dean sighed in relief after he finished palpating Sam's shoulder (and entire arm for good measure) "Not broken Sammy, just a cramp, probably from stress,"
Sam shook his head, "He broke it Dean,"
Dean could see the pain in his brother's eyes, hear it in his voice. "Listen, it was just a dream. You're okay now,"
Once again Sam shook his head, "I… I felt the bones grinding… God it hurt… and that noise…" Sam stopped, feeling sick at the memory.
Dean moved behind him, propping his younger brother's huge body against his own chest, " I've got you now, everything is gonna be okay," but as he wrapped his arms around his brother he heard Sam whimper and he pulled his arm back, away from Sam's shoulder.
"Damn bastard," Dean ground out, anger rising within his chest. Sam cringed away from him and his sharp words, his wounded mind causing him to be easily frightened.
Dean got up from the bed, but Sam whimpered, his good arm reaching out to find his brother, "Shhh Sammy, it's all going to be fine. Let me get you some ice for that shoulder,"
Dean went into the hall, trying his best to ignore Sam's muffled moans – the result of his being alone even just for a second. Dean filled a large plastic bag from the ice machine and returned to their room quickly. Still, it was obvious that his momentary absence had affected Sam negatively. The youngest Winchester was panting, his whole body shaking and his eyes were bright with panic.
Dean slid behind him on the bed again, pulling his brother into him, "I got ya little brother, take it easy," Sam's breathing slowly evened out and Dean smiled sadly, "That's right, just calm down. Try to relax, it will help your shoulder,"
Dean lifted the bag of ice, wrapping it in the corner of the sheet before laying it over Sam's shoulder. Sam let out a hiss of pain but Dean kept the bag in place, pressing down gently. "This will help, trust me Sammy, just relax," and Sam did, sinking into oblivion beneath his brother's touch.
Hours must have passed – during which time both brothers slept fitfully. Dean awoke to water dripping down his hand and opened his eyes to find his hand still holding the ice to Sam's shoulder and the condensation on the bag rolling in little drops down its side. He removed the ice and headed out into the hall to get more.
When he returned, Sam was awake, propped against the headboard and gently rotating his shoulder while massaging it in circles. He looked up when Dean entered, unshed tears collecting in his eyes, "Not broken," he announced in a raspy voice, then, his voice cracking. "Thank God…"
Dean felt his heart break for the kid once again. He went to the bed and wrapped Sammy in a huge hug, letting Sam rest his head on his shoulder and cry into it. They stayed like that for several minutes until Dean pulled away, sweeping the hair off Sam's forehead, "Ok kiddo, some Tylenol and some more ice and you'll be good as new,"
Sam nodded, accepting the cup and pills that Dean offered, "Thanks,"
"You betcha," Dean said, moving away before adding under his breath, "I'll always be here for you kid,"
Love it? Hate it? Leave me a review! This is my first Supernatural Fanfic so I hope everything was satisfactory. Let me know!
JustAnotherSensitveArtist
