Hey! As usual thank you all for the support this has received so far, but I would *really* like some comments on this chapter if you could! The view switches back to present day and these scenes ran WAY longer than I thought they would, so this is actually only about half of what this chapter was originally planned to contain. Oh well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Present Day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean woke from this dream without any yells still caught in her throat or the ghostly feelings of flame across her skin. She shook her head as she slowly rose from sleep, still caught in the sensations of her dream. She sat up and Sam shifted beside her, bringing her attention back to her sister.
That had been by far the strangest dream she had had before. Her and Sam were... a couple ? And still related?
Or, rather, they weren't a couple. Not yet, anyways. But it was made perfectly clear that they were going to be. It was just something that she was having trouble wrapping her head around. Why would she dream something like that?
Of course, she'd had dreams where they'd kissed. She'd had dreams where they passionately embraced, or a small child would run up, supposedly theirs. But they had never once been related in the dreams, and the ones where they were a couple were few and far between.
That did little to ease Dean's mind. Dean had dreamed of her and Sam in that world before, as the twins in Japan, but never had they done anything to make her assume they would end up together. Perhaps she was missing crucial pieces to other dreams, too?
Dean had unintentionally began to think of her dreams as glimpses into something else. Like she had glimpses of other worlds and realities, floating around in her head. Of course, that seemed ridiculous, even to a seven year old.
She closed her eyes, breathing a long and steady breath outwards. Once she was done, she slowly lowered her body back down, hesitating a moment before wrapping her arm around her little sister.
Those dreams felt like something a little more than dreams...
To Dean, they felt a little bit like memories.
Sam was able to play the next day, and the next. Even so, Dean was as careful as she could be, making sure she didn't stumble and hurt herself on any twigs or rocks. She walked just a little bit slower than usual, and they didn't quite get as far as they usually did. Sam complained about not getting to the place with all the "cool bugs", but Dean ignored it. What mattered was that Sam wasn't hurt.
She felt protective over her, more than she rightfully should for her age. Especially since Sam tended to get pissy when she felt like she was being held back.
"Come on Dean, I thought you said we would pretend that we were scientists and study the bugs! I even brought my magnifying glass!" Sam said, pulling her miniature magnifying glass out of her pocket and flashing it at Dean, like it was her proudest possession.
"I'll tell you what; we'll play scientist tomorrow. Today, mom's making pecan pie for dessert, and you know she doesn't give us as much if we're late." Dean announced. Sam couldn't deny the logic, but it didn't stop her from pouting about it.
"Fine." She relented, pushing some dirt around with her foot. She slumped down and sat hard on a log.
"Do you need a rest?" Dean asked, a little concerned. Sam crossed her arms over her chest and raised her head upwards indignantly, refusing to speak to Dean.
"Come on Sammy. Don't be stupid. Come on, let's go home." She insisted, making a small gesture with her head. Sam got up off the log but her arms didn't uncross themselves from over her chest. Dean didn't mind all that much, because hey, at least Sammy wasn't gasping for breath like she would have been if they had walked the full way.
There was always tomorrow.
At least, until there wasn't.
Because the next day, Sam collapsed onto her bed. Dean got out their white lab coats and threw one over to her, but she didn't even bother to catch it.
"What are you doing? Come on, we have to go investigate the bugs!" Dean argued, throwing herself onto the bed with Sam. Sam turned away, grabbing a pillow and wrapping it around her face. She mumbled something, but it was entirely unintelligible. Dean let out a short laugh, prodding her sister's shoulder.
"C'mon Sammy, I can't hear you." She teased.
Sam slowly lowered the pillow from her face, and Dean noticed then that her eyes didn't seem as bright as they usually were. Her hair wasn't shiny. She seemed to have all together lost her luster.
Dean wondered briefly when that had happened.
"I'm too tired to go outside today." Sam said, looking down. Dean felt her heart sink. She had thought that Sam was doing okay, but she had clearly misjudged. Sammy looked tired. Sammy wasn't eating as much. Sammy just didn't seem like her Sammy anymore and it wasn't something that Dean was prepared for.
Because she'd seen things like this, in other lifetimes. She'd seen Sam slowly deteriorate, she'd seen her fall apart and be put back together despite the fact that she was already too damn broken, she'd seen it too much. No matter what anyone told her about her dreams, she knew that there was just something about them, something that wasn't quite normal. And even if it was her imagination, that didn't change the way she felt about it.
"That's okay. I'll just go play on the wii." Dean said, nodding her head. Sam gave a small yawn, turning over and shuffling around, in attempt to get comfortable.
Dean slowly and gingerly picked up the lab coat, folding it up. She put both of them on the top shelf of the closet, and she hoped with everything in her that Sam would be okay the next day.
Because folding up the coat felt oddly reminiscent of losing a friend.
Sam was okay the next day.
The day after that, she was not.
Their parents thought that their fights were hushed, but Dean could hear them. They could hear mentions of 'Sam' and 'sick' and 'hospital', and Dean knew that that meant more tests and more poking, and more of their mother crying as she explained that no, they still didn't know what was wrong with Sam, but maybe they would soon.
The days where Sam could not play were soon more frequent than the days where she was able to, and before Dean knew it, Sam was in bed every day.
Sometimes, Dean would lay down with her, wrap her in her arms, and snuggle up as close as they could get. She noticed her sister's arms getting thinner and thinner; one day, Sam went to change her shirt, and Dean could see every rib in excruciating detail.
The hospital visits got more and more frequent, and one day, mom started weeping outside the door, and their dad yelled at the doctors, and Dean could only sneak into the room with Sam and close her eyes, cover her sister's ears so one of them wouldn't hear it happening.
That was the day they tried to separate them.
A doctor came through the door, his coat swinging in a way that was oddly reminiscent of the lab coats they wore to play scientist. He had a clip board in his hand, and he paused when he saw Dean.
"You're not supposed to be in here." He observed, raising his eyebrows. Dean didn't respond, simply clutching Sam a little bit tighter. She knew, of course, that she was going to get caught eventually. She just wanted to give her sister as much comfort as possible before they had to run more tests. Sam was sick of needles and pain and people holding her down, and Dean would offer what little comfort she could.
"Come on, you. We can't get your sister better if you don't listen to us." He said, sternly.
"Me being here makes her better. You're not doing your damn job." Dean informed him, a sudden flare of anger surprising her. The doctor reared back, but he quickly recovered. Dean was expecting a harsh reprimand, but that was not what she received.
"I know. We're doing the best that we can, though. I can promise you that I'll try my hardest with your sister, but you have to promise me that you'll let us do our job." The doctor said, slowly walking towards them as he was speaking. He swooped down once he was in front of them, putting himself on Dean's level. "Now, your parents are probably already worried about your sister, you don't want them to worry about you too, do you?"
Dean nodded her head. This had been the first adult that hadn't talked down to her since she'd been here, and she found herself wanting to listen.
"It's okay Dean. I'll be okay." Sam reassured her, slowly moving her sister's hands out of the way. Dean stiffly obeyed her sister's silent request, obeying the doctor.
She knew that Sam wanted her there, but Sam also didn't want to cause trouble for the doctors.
Dean shuffled out of the room, trying to slow down her departure as much as possible. She wanted Sam to be able to change her mind if she wanted Dean to stay. Of course, she didn't, but the doctor was still patient as she kept with the slow pace down the hallway. Dean wasn't sure why the doctor had chosen to accompany her back to the waiting room, but she wrote it off.
Her parents were there, and they were holding her coat.
Dean's eyes flickered between them and it, and her eyebrows drew together. Her mother's eyes were rimmed red from crying, and her father's hair was messed all to hell. She stopped moving, waiting for something to be said.
"Come on Dean, honey, we're going home." Her mother announced, waving the coat.
"When's Sammy coming?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. Her mom flinched, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. She turned to their father, who in turn dropped to his knees, motioning for Dean to come forward.
Dean stood where she was, eying him warily. It took a few minutes, but he spoke anyways.
"Sam can't come home with us, Dean." He said, looking into her eyes. "She has to stay at the hospital for a little while, so they can try and find out what's going on. If she comes home with us again, she won't be safe."
Dean took a step back, and she found her shoulders bumping into the doctor's stomach. She shook her head to clear it, trying to process the information.
Sam couldn't come home with them, and Dean couldn't leave her here. The doctors hurt her, with needles and tests and god only knew what else. Dean wasn't about to leave her sister in that environment alone. This was her sister, for Christ's sake, she wasn't leaving this hospital without her.
She lifted a hand as fast as she could, feeling only a pang of remorse as she elbowed the doctor behind her in the gut.
Her hair flew out behind her and people jumped out of the way as she ran, as fast as she could, back to Sam's room. There were a couple of twists in the hallways and the numbers on the doors didn't seem familiar, but she just knew she would find Sam.
There were footsteps behind her, big and clunky, and she vaguely registered the sound of her father calling out her name. All of this was ignored in favor of the task at hand.
She wove through hallways, ducking under nurses with arm fulls of clothing and running around patients. The only thing on her mind was finding which room her sister was in, and making it to her. She didn't think about the consequences, or about how they would probably find her and force her to leave anyways, because those things were trivial. What she needed was Sammy, and that wasn't going to happen unless she just kept running, taking turns and twists that they couldn't follow.
Eventually, the sound of footsteps had faded away in the noise. She looked around to find that in all actuality, she was pretty close to where Sam was in the first place. Luck must have been on her side, because she encountered no one on her short jog to the room she remembered.
She busted into the room, the door actually shaking on it's hinges as she plowed through. Sam's head whipped around from the television she was watching, and Dean saw her eyes briefly light up, before it turned into confusion.
"Dean?" She questioned, eyebrows pulling together.
"No time to talk. We have to get you out of here, Sammy, they're trying to keep you here." Dean said, running over to where Sam was and wrapping her in her arms. The fear of having to leave her sister was all-consuming, entirely panic-enducing. She couldn't leave Sam behind, she couldn't-
A doctor ran into the room, taking one look at Dean before he stomped over. Dean let a scream escape her lips, clinging even tighter than before to her sister. Sam tried to pull away and see what was going on, but she found herself in an absolutely inescapable grasp.
"No! I have to protect her!" Dean screamed, hugging Sammy tighter. Sammy had given up struggling now and was running a hand soothingly through Dean's hair, mumbling something into Dean's ear. Dean heard the words, but she couldn't really stop to think of what they meant.
"You have to let go of her, or I'll force you." The man said, plainly. He didn't look overwhelmed or threatened or intimidated, and that scared Dean. He was strong. He could probably carry her out of here, even if she was kicking and screaming.
"Over my dead fucking body!" She cried out. He stepped forward, his hands reaching out, clearly intent on grabbing Dean.
Dean finally released Sam from her grasp, her hands falling to instead grip the metal railing to the bed.
The man grabbed her around the waist and he pulled, but she held on fast. As he began to move the bed moved with her, moving back a good two feet from where it was. He immediately stopped, calling out for help as he saw that she couldn't be removed. One of his hands fell to the bed to keep it still, while the other one continued it's efforts in trying to pull her off. Dean kicked him as hard as she could, and he stumbled back.
"Sammy, Sammy," She said, while the man groaned in pain. She grabbed Sam's face in the heat of the moment, bringing her forward sharply for a small kiss. Sam made a sound of surprise in the back of her throat. Of course, they hadn't given each other kisses in a long time. "I won't let them take me away from you." Dean said.
"Dean I have to stay here. I'm not healthy, and they won't let you stay with me." Sam said. Dean let a tear slide down her face, knowing that it was true.
"I love you Sammy. I love you so much, don't let them hurt you." She started to cry. Sammy's own eyes filled with tears and they hugged again, both of them holding each other tight, as if they might not get the chance again. The again, who knew? Because somebody was bursting into the room, and grabbing Dean's arms, and all the struggling and kicking and screaming in the world wasn't going to get her out of this.
"Sammy!" She shrieked, pulling against the arms wrapped tightly around her own. "SAMMY!"
"Dean!" Sam responded, starting to move towards her sister. Sam didn't want Dean to go, and she couldn't fight it anymore. She didn't want to be in this damn hospital. But somebody was behind her and holding her back, and she gave up all too quick. She didn't have the physical strength that Dean had.
Dean started sobbing, letting the cries wrack her body as they dragged her along. As soon as they let her go, she fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands and shaking her head over and over again.
"Dean, it's time to go." Somebody said. Dean looked up, blinking the tears out of her eyes.
She knew that there was nothing she could do.
That night, Dean's bed felt cold and empty. Her blankets were too large without another body next to her, and she knew that if she tried to sleep now, her dreams would be full of fire and brimstone.
She turned over in her bed, facing the wall.
Despite Dean's best efforts to stay awake, she felt herself slowly drifting into sleep.
In her dream, she was on a fishing dock. The air was warm, maybe a little humid, and the water crashing against the dock posts made for an interesting sound. It all seemed just a little too peaceful for a dream when Sammy wasn't around, but she wasn't about to complain.
A small sound to her right caused her to do a quick turn. A man with shaggy black hair was wearing a trench coat, a blue tie draped from his neck, done up backwards. His eyes were a crystal clear blue, and he seemed familiar in some odd way. Dean thought about being afraid, but she couldn't really fear him. There was just something that she couldn't put her finger on, something... gentle.
"You know, I have a way to save your sister." He said, conversationally. Dean perked up in her seat.
For once, one of her dreams wasn't just a crazy fantasy of another time. For once, she was dreaming about something good that could happen. No matter how delusional, crazy, absolutely insane it was to think that it might have any effect on real life, she wanted to. She needed to believe in something good right now.
"Enlighten me." She said, but the voice was not her own. It was gruff, manly.
It sounded like the voice she had when she was screaming in hell.
"All he has to do is say yes." The man said. Dean's vision started to blur and the form of the angel started to waver, as if she was looking at him through a fun house mirror. She looked down at her hands in shock- they were her own hands again, instead of the rough and calloused hands she'd had before.
"Say yes to what?" She asked. The man turned sharply towards her, his eyes widening as he witnessed what was happening.
"This call is being disrupted. Soon I'll lose my corporeal form." He said, sounding worried. "You'll sink into your memories if you don't wake up."
"What the hell? What should Sammy say yes to?" She demanded, but her vision was flickering. Red started to intrude around the edges, a red that she knew all too well. Panic rose up in her chest as she looked down at her hands again- large, rough, calloused. But, most shockingly, violently flickering in between blood splattered and clean.
"Dean?" The thing called. Dean could no longer see the trench coat and the blue tie, but had to shield her eyes from the brilliantly bright light radiating from where he had been standing. "Dean, you have to listen to me! I don't have time to explain!"
The man's voice was filled with an underlying sound of whining, almost like a ringing in her ears. As he continued to talk it got worse and worse, louder and louder, and pretty soon, Dean knew she wouldn't be able to understand much longer.
"How do we save Sammy?" She shouted. Her voice was gruff again, and she was yelling over the tormented souls of hell. Desperation threatened to claw her from the inside out as she yelled it, again, "How do we save Sammy!"
"He just needs to say yes!" The form said. The rest of what he had tagged on was lost in an indefinite whine, as he blinked out of the dream world. Dean found herself (well, right now, himself) briefly wondering why the thing had called Sam a 'he'. Of course, he didn't wonder much longer with a knife being plunged into his stomach and twisted, until he was begging for mercy at the hands of a faceless evil.
She awoke three hours later, sweat covering her face and laying in a fine sheen across her skin.
"Sammy has to say yes." She whispered to herself, in between gulps of fresh air.
The smell of her bedroom helped to chase away the smell of sulfur still fresh in her mind.
