Hey guys! This story is a sequel to The Demon's Will, so I suggest reading that before you read this. Thank you to all who reviewed my other stories. A special thanks to Alanna for giving me the idea for the title and to Brittany Morgan (Aka Deanahlic1) who gave me inspiration. Hope you enjoy.
"He gave up his life for you?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Yeah, the stupid ass," Dean answered looking over at his little brother.
It was just another one of the discussions they had been having ever since they had arrived at the hospital. This was probably one of the most painful conversations, for both Sam and Dean. They had had this one just a day after Sam had woken up. He had wanted to know exactly what had happened to the dad he believed to be alive and well.
The two brothers had been living in the hospital for 2 weeks while Sam recovered, which was progressing much faster than the doctors had expected. He had been off the respirator in about eight days and had been able to breathe normally on his own. On day 10, he had been able to get to the bathroom, with Dean supporting most of his weight. Each day Sam would take the long trip to the bathroom and go on his own more each day. By day 14, Sam could reach it to the bathroom and back to his bed by himself, though it took about 20 minutes and Dean leaned against the wall watching like a hawk in case he needed help.
Dean turned his head when he heard the flush, which was followed by the sound of running water. The door creaked open and the sound of Sam's feet padding across the floor reached his ears. Sam met his eyes and gave him an exhausted smile and started to make his way back to his bed. Dean took it as an opportunity to study his brother. His left arm was clad in a brilliantly white cast that went past his elbow. Sam's face and neck were no longer puffy with bruises, though the marks could still be seen. They were the only marks on the outside that remained of the demon's brutal attack. The emotional scars, however, were a completely different story.
Sam was starting to go inside of himself again, like he had done right after Jessica's death. To him, it felt like just yesterday he had held her in his arms. Dean had no idea how that felt. They had been putting the many pieces back together over the last two weeks. Sam was slowly beginning to recover the memories he had lost, the things he had forgotten. There had been many nights when Sam had woken up screaming Jessica's name and only Dean was there to answer it. Their days at the hospital were mostly of Dean filling Sam in on what happened in the past year. He couldn't remember a time when he had talked so much or when Sam had been so quiet. Even Dean was surprised by how much had happened in such a small slot of time. Was it possible to fit so many hunts, so many run down hotels, and so many lost lives in just one year?
It had not been an easy two weeks, nor was it going to get any easier. There had been so many tears shed in the two weeks to last the two brothers many years to come. It had been just last night when Dean had told Sam about Madison. Sam had said nothing while Dean had recounted the excursion, but his tears spoke volumes. By the time Dean was finished the tale, he could see it in Sam's eyes: he remembered. That was one of the memories Dean would have preferred to keep under wraps, but his brother deserved to know everything.
Sam lowered himself carefully onto his bed and laid back with a lengthy sigh. The sigh seemed to release all the emotions that had been swirling around his head and he felt himself relax. He swept his gaze around the white room with tired eyes. The hunting bag lay on the floor beside his bed, just in case. Another bed had been added for Dean to sleep on as he had refused to leave his brother. The first couple days he had refused to leave the room to even get a shower. He had finally relented when Sam had told him he smelled like he had fallen in a dumpster. Although he had relented, the shower had been no longer than five minutes. Sam had just been happy that Dean's body odor no longer made him wrinkle his nose in disgust.
Sam was rather unsure what he was feeling. There had been so many emotions swirling around his head for the past two weeks. He didn't know it was possible for one person to feel so many emotions at once without exploding. Sadness, happiness, relief, confusion, anger, and hopelessness, all at the same time. You would think a person's body wouldn't be able to take much more, but Sam needed to know. Dean had suggested they take a break and let Sam rest for a while, but Sam wasn't having it. He wanted all the memories he had lost returned to him, and Dean was the only one who could help him. Once Dean told him of the memories, he could see the images bombarding his mind. The bed felt so comfortable beneath him, until something dripped onto his forehead. When he opened his eyes, Jess was pinned to the ceiling, her mouth open in a silent scream. Fire burst from the wall behind and she was engulfed in flames. He saw a truck come out of nowhere and hit the Impala with a resounding boom. Time slowed down and he dropped a coffee, running to his father's motionless body. He heard the gunshot pierce the silence and a beautiful brunette fell into his arms. Madison, he remembered her. And Sarah, she was so beautiful as well. He wondered to himself if she ever thought of him.
"You okay?" Dean asked, settling in the chair next to Sam's bed and looking at his brother with a penetrating stare. "If you stare at the wall any harder you're gonna drill a hole in it."
"Just thinking," Sam said distractedly.
"Uh oh," Dean said, "that's never good news." Dean smiled over at his brother, but it vanished quickly when Sam didn't return it. "What are you thinking about Geek Boy?"
"Just stuff," said Sam, never taking his eyes off a small spot on the wall in front of him.
Sam was doing it again, going inside of himself to be alone. It was understandable, since Sam had been through so much. He needed time to go inside of himself and figure it out on his own. It annoyed Dean to sit and wait while Sam tried to sort through his emotions. Normally Dean didn't like the whole "talk about your emotions" thing, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"I wish you would talk to me," Dean said, desperately trying to get his little brother to look at him.
Sam pulled out of his reverie and looked at Dean while a look of surprise crossed his face.
"I don't really feel like talking right now," Sam said, pulling the white sheets up to his chin and settling farther down into the bed. "I'm too tired. Can we do this later?" Sam looked up at his big brother and made his brown eyes big and round. His brother wouldn't be able to say no.
"Alright fine, get some sleep," Dean said with defeat in his voice. "But as soon as you wake up, we are talking."
Sam rolled over so his back was to Dean and closed his eyes. He didn't want to sleep because he knew as soon as he drifted off, his dreams would be filled with his newly acquired memories. Unable to fight the inevitable, he relaxed his body and his breathing became long and steady.
"Night Sammy," Dean whispered.
Dean nestled in the plastic hospital chair and tried to get more comfortable. The door opened behind him and Doctor Turner walked in, her shoes clacking loudly against the floor.
"Good morning Dean," she said pleasantly, taking in the form of the older man while he sat slumped in the hospital chair.
"Hello," Dean said, not taking his eyes off Sam.
"How is Sam doing today?" She asked, glancing at the charts at the end of Sam's bed.
"Pretty good," said Dean. "He made it to the bathroom and back without my help, although a snail probably would have beat him there."
"That's still pretty good," she said, smiling at Dean.
Doctor Turner walked to the other side of Sam's bed and gazed into his face. His face was held in a grimace, as if he was having a nightmare. He clenched his fists and rolled over to his other side.
"Son of a bitch," Dean said through clenched teeth. "He's probably having another nightmare."
"Does he get them often?" Doctor Turner asked.
"Almost every time he falls asleep." Dean said sadly.
"Oh dear," said Doctor Turner. "Well I have just the thing. I will be right back."
Doctor Turner returned two minutes later with an IV bag filled with a clear liquid.
"What's that?" Dean asked apprehensively.
"Just a mild sedative that will rid him of those horrible nightmares," said Doctor Turner as she set up the bag on an IV stand. She took Sam's arm, while Dean watched closely, and pushed the IV into his vein gently so he would not wake up. Taking the end of the tube, she hooked it to the IV bag and watched as the liquid went down the tube and into Sam's arm.
"There we go," she said.
"Thanks doc," Dean said while he watched Sam's face return to a peaceful expression. "I thinks it's working."
Doctor Turner turned and walked out of the room.
"That's good," she said. As soon as the door closed behind her, her face broke into a large smile and her eyes flashed yellow.
Thank you so much for reading my story. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think!
