When Dean returned to the hospital it was due to the sever pain drilling inside his head. He experienced hard time keeping his balance and sometimes words would unexpectedly scramble his speech. The reoccurring weird colors which tended to appear whenever he was tired, gave him quite a fright. It was never there before and their sudden appearance felt intimidating.
Ben, who's been in close contact with Dean made sure to call at least twice a day even if only to ask how he's doing. He was also first to volunteer with helping him get to the hospital for his appointment to get checked. He knew if he didn't, Dean would definitely not go, out of own free will.
"I don't like the sound of that" Ben expressed his worries concerning his friend over the phone. "You are not supposed to be seeing lights and shapes out of no where".
That left Dean caught in the middle. What was he supposed to tell his young friend? 'I've got cancer what can I do'? Even that sounded lame. Why couldn't he come up with something wittier? It somehow seemed like it was the only fair excuse in spite of the fact it sounded sucked right out of his thumb.
The truth was that this was all part of the cancer's effect taking over the young scared Texan boy who felt intimidated by the thought he would have to go back to the hospital on his own.
Ben suggested driving him over but it was Sam who showed up instead.
The car ride was too long and too uncomfortable than either had imagined. Dean didn't remember the last time he felt so trapped inside his own car, anxious to get the ride part over with, wishing to escape if only to find his peace and quiet in his very own bedroom, strumming the guitar or just staring outside. That's what he's been doing for the past few weeks, ever since things took a turn for the worse and from that point kept going in one direction only, down.
Sam didn't feel any better. He felt uneasy around Dean, not sure what to say or how to behave. What could you possibly say under these circumstances?
None of it made sense, at all. None of it seemed real. They were best of friends, knew each other since early days of junior high. The young boys went through detentions together, double dates, first love, first crush, hiking, camping, wild parties, football seasons, fantasies and dreams…. As if born brothers, they were inseparable… until the day Sam got accepted to Stanford.
Currently a sophomore, Sam usually returned home only for the holidays. This was exactly why Dean thought his mind was playing tricks on him, as the door swung open and there he was, tall as ever, with the all too familiar never-ending smile and untamed hair. The boys hugged tight.
Maybe he should tell Dean about the new trip idea, Jess and him thought of just the other week. Europe was great this time of year, maybe rafting the fjords in Norway and do a cross Scandinavia trip in one car, just Jess, Ben, Dean and himself.
Then Sam suddenly realized he couldn't. Dean might not be able to participate in a trip of this kind or worse… what if Dean won't be alive by then? What if their last trip last summer was indeed Dean's last trip?
Were they going to replace him? Sam had to wonder. No, they wouldn't. He couldn't imagine driving coast to coast without fighting over what CD's and which tape cassettes, or boarding a plane without his phobic friend in the next seat switching colors before the terrible shakes took over.
Ok next topic, Sam thought to himself.
But there was no room for other topics. The song on the radio took over and with it swept both boys into their own dream world…
"All alone I came into this world
All alone I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water, and a million years gone by…"
Sam reached over and switched off the radio. Those words might be too hard on his friend who seemed to be interested only in looking outside his window at the street, through his dark shades.
'Funny', Sam thought to himself. If anything characterized Dean, it was those sarcastic pearls of wisdom of his, people didn't always find funny or appreciated.
He'd be so full of it that there were times Sam wished or begged Dean to keep his mouth shut. Right now, this very moment, he wished to hear his friend's voice, even a silent sigh would definitely do.
However, the world never seemed darker to Dean than how it did right now.
By now he had lost all hope, had given up all his dreams. The only thing on his agenda as of now was to wait for this disease to consume him on the inside until the last breath parted his lips.
His own body betrayed him by trading life for a ticking bomb.
Dean, for a while now, accepted the fact he was going to die. Nothing, no one in the world could stop that from happening. No one.