Chapter 2

When he opened his eyes, he found the sun outside was shining. His head hurt, like it did after a hangover. And he felt tired, like he hadn't slept at all.

But he must have, because he was in a hotel, and it was morning. He looked around and found Roman sleeping on the bed next to his. He was sleeping with his clothes on, above the bed sheets. He hadn't bothered undressing or unpacking his suitcase.

Dean looked outside.

That damn sun was really starting to hurt his head.

Gingerly, he sat up.

Bad idea.

The pain in his head grew and he became dizzy. Maybe drinking some water would help. He took a few sips from a bottle that had been placed next to the bed.

Nope. Headache still there… still spitting his scull in half.

A shower maybe?

He got up and immediately regretted it. His legs felt like rubber and he had to hold onto the walls in order not to fall. His stomach turned as well.

"When was the last time you ate?" he thought. And the answer came a few seconds later. "Yesterday… morning?"

Idiot.

He entered the shower and let the warm water fall. Usually that helped with the hangovers, but not today.

His mind drifted to the dream he had last night. It was such a vivid and yet empty dream. As far as he could remember, he always had dreams… but one of pure darkness? He had never had one like this. And the voices… those haunting and terrifying screams, calling him… begging him… cursing him…

Where those voices the shadows he had been seeing? Was there a relation?

Fuck…

Another searing pain in his head erased any form of coherent thought and he found his stomach twisting. He doubled in pain and soon he began vomiting water and bile and some blood. That didn't last long.

He dry heaved a few times when there was nothing else to retch. His brain felt like floating and the world around him started to spin faster and faster. He tried holding on to something, anything, but the glass sliding doors of the shower and the wet walls made it impossible.

And he fell, landing in water and vomit and blood.

Roman woke up when he heard running water and someone puking in the bathroom. He opened his eyes and it took him a few seconds to realize that Dean was not in bed.

"Fuck" he mumbled and got up, heading for the bathroom.

Before he could reach the bathroom door he heard a thud, a sound like someone had thrown a sack of potatoes on concrete.

"Dean!" he yelled as he opened the door. "Shit… shit…shit…" he repeated when he saw him.

He was lying on the shower floor with clenched fists against his head, water still falling, and breathing way too fast for Roman's taste. He opened the shower door, turned the water off and knelt beside his friend.

"Dean?" he said taking his head in his hands. There was no blood thankfully. What worried him was the vomit that was still on the floor and the blood it had mixed in it.

"Can you hear me? Come on… open our eyes… come on…" and gave him a couple of slaps on the face.

Dean wanted to speak or even groan, but nothing could come out, just silent gasp. He wasn't sure if his face was wet from tears or from water. His face contorted from pain, he opened his eyes and looked at his friend's worried expression.

"Can you hear me?" he asked again, helping him sit up against the wall.

He nodded 'yes'.

"Can you stand up?"

"D… don't know" his voice barely above a whisper.

Roman helped him up. It took him a little while getting him to bed since they had to stop every couple of steps for Dean to catch his breath or lean against the walls.

When he sat on the bed, he looked at Roman.

"What is happening to me?" he finally asked wincing, his fingers touching his temples. "My head…" he said closing his eyes and lying on his back. His breathing had quickened. Roman was instantly on his side grabbing his friend's face.

"What is it? Come on… open your eyes… talk to me…"

"My head… please… help me" Dean pleaded, as if Roman could somehow make the pain go away.

And that made the Samoan despair. Dean curled up on his right side and grabbing Roman's hands began to punch his own head.

"Stop it!" Roman withdrew his hands and held him down to prevent him from hurting himself any further. Dean fought him, trying to use his own hands this time to punch his head.

'Maybe this will chase the pain away… cure pain with more pain… trade one for another…'

Then Dean screamed; a rough, deep, guttural scream that was half muffled by the bed sheets. Then the pain grew and it spread through his entire body. It grabbed him by the neck and chest and squeezed hard. Dean took Roman's hands and held them tight against his chest.

He opened his eyes wide, looked at him and pleaded.

"Please… make it stop… take it away…"

Then the shakes began. Roman grabbed Dean by the shoulders and pinned him to the bed. He didn't want either of them getting hurt. But the shakes grew in strength and soon Dean was almost convulsing,

And Roman despaired more. The pit in his stomach didn't have an end any more. And he really thought this would be the end of his dear brother. He took Dean in his arms and held him close to his chest, whispering in his ear.

"I am here… I am here… hold on…"

And Dean kept convulsing, hands tight grabbing the bed sheets as if they would stop him from falling into the void, as if they would stop the world from spinning… as if they would stop the pain that hit him like tsunamis, one after another. The only thing he was able to hold onto was Roman's voice. It felt like the only thing that could keep him from drowning; like the only thing that could keep the pain from completely destroying him. He wanted to tell him to keep talking to him, keep whispering… he wanted to tell him that being held and talked to was really helping, but he couldn't. All he could do was suffer.

But Roman knew; somehow he knew; and held him tighter despite requiring all his strength to keep him in his arms as steady as he could.

"Dean… I am here… shhhh… listen to my voice…. Breathe… breathe…"

At first the convulsions didn't seem to end. But Roman kept holding on; he kept whispering to his ear; he never let go. Dean's face was covered in sweat and tears, teeth gritting, eyes wide open in terror and pain, muscles tied into knots, breathing shallowly, limbs twitching uncontrollably.

"Come back to me… don't let go… come back…"

Come back…

It was noon already.

Seth was going to enter the room using the spare card Roman had given him last night.

Last night… what a night! He hadn't been able to sleep much because he was worried about Dean. He had tried to keep Roman calm and ease him mind, and his own, by telling him it had probably been the lack of sleep. So why hadn't he been able to sleep? Lack of sleep made Dean grumpy, not delusional. Maybe this morning everything would be alright.

His steps brought him to door. He used the card and entered the room.

The sun was shining through the windows, blinding him temporarily.

But the silence was deafening. When his eyes adjusted, he took to the room.

And then he saw them.

On the bed, Roman was holding Dean against his chest, cradling him. The Samoan's eyes were red and puffy from what appeared to be crying… Dean seemed to be asleep, limp against Roman, seemingly peaceful.

Set ran towards them and knelt next to the bed.

"What happened?"

"He woke up and tried to take a shower, while I was asleep. He… vomited blood and then passed out… I carried him here and then he…"

Seth looked at Dean worryingly.

"Then he started shaking… he was crying… begging me to help him… he… he tried to hurt himself, so I held him down… then the convulsions came"

Seth realized he wasn't breathing.

"Why didn't you call a doctor?"

"I couldn't leave him… Seth, it was bad…" he looked at the sleeping man. "Seth… I am scared"

"Come on… let's take him to the hospital" he stated and got up. "I'm calling an ambulance"

"Wait… hold on… let me wake him up first…"

Roman untangled himself and lay Dean down on the bed. He took a wet towel and started cleaning Dean's face, gently trying to wake him. He spoke softly to his ear, asking him to open his eyes.

After a few moments, his eyes finally opened. Blurry at first, he managed to focus on the face next to him.

And he remembered everything that had come to pass.

"Hey" Seth said, coming into his line of vision. "How are you feeling buddy?"

Dean groaned.

"Head still hurts?"

"No" he mumbled. "Nothing hurts… not anymore"

"You scared me, you know…" Roman said.

Dean's eyes fell on the floor.

"I'm sorry…" he didn't dare look up, afraid of what he might see in their eyes… his eyes.

"Hey, hey…" Roman lift his head up with his finger and turned his face towards him, "there is nothing to be sorry about…"

"I'm sorry if I scared you… I don't know what's happening to me…"

"Maybe you should see a doctor"

"No…" Dean refused, his voice raising, distancing himself from his friends.

"Dean… you were vomiting blood… you were convulsing… last night you had a fever… hallucinations…"

"I am not hallucinating" Dean screamed and stood up from the bed.

Roman tried to stop him, half expecting him to fall down. But he didn't. Dean turned and looked at them angrily.

"Those shadows I see… I have been seeing them since I was a child…"

Seth's eyes grew and looked at Roman.

"I have been seeing shadows and lights ever since I can remember" he continued and came to stand by the window. Hands folded on his chest, eyes looking out. He couldn't tell them and look at their faces. He wouldn't be able to stand the look of their disbelief… or worse, their pity. "Ever since I was a small child I used to see at first bright, hovering, warm lights… everywhere, all the time. They were always in the corner of the room, a few feet away… And I was the only one who could see them. The dark spots came a few years later… they didn't bother me… but they were always there… they existed with me… they were the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw at night. They were there in the good times… and the bad… but as I grew older… they appeared less and less often… and one day, they stopped… until a couple of weeks ago… they came back, but this time it is different… this time there are no bright lights… just the darkness… and it has grown. They weren't spots anymore, but full shadowy forms… I can feel them behind me, I can feel them closer to me… but I can't see them… they seem to exist on the blind spot of my vision but they are gone when I turn my head. And… they feel different… they feel menacing, angry, desperate."

A pause to collect his thoughts that felt like the scattered pieces of a 5000 piece puzzle.

"When you found me yesterday in the locker room, I was trying to concentrate. I thought that by looking into a fixed spot, my peripheral vision would fill in the blanks and form a complete image of the shadow… but I was wrong… all it did was suck me in further into the darkness… blind me…"

Silence.

"Can you feel them now?" Roman asked, his heart shattered into thousands of pieces. He didn't know why he asked that question. His mind told him that Dean was crazy, that he had snapped, but his heart told him otherwise. Those weren't the worlds of a madman. He looked afraid but sane.

"I can always feel them… they are always there" and pointed just above his left shoulder, rubbing his face with the other hand.

Unwillingly, both men looked but there was nothing there.

"Look Dean, you had a seizure… you puked blood… you have to let us take you to the hospital" Seth asked.

"No, I can't go to the hospital. They are going to give me tests… they are going to think I am crazy, they are going to lock me away…"; a shiver run up his spine.

There.

He said it.

He turned and looked at them. His eyes had welled up.

"I am not crazy" his voice broke.

Roman hugged him and let him burry his face in his chest. He always did have a soft spot for Dean. Seth was nodding negatively, trying to tell the big man to convince their friend and let them take him to the hospital.

"This is dangerous Dean… you can't expect us to sit back and let you suffer. Last night was a nightmare… what if it happens again? What if next time something happens to you? Something permanent… even deadly? How do you expect us to live with ourselves afterwards?" Seth asked.

Dean looked up at Roman.

"I am sorry about last night. For scaring you… but this is my life" he spoke softly, no trace of anger. He took a step away. "You don't have to stick around if you don't want to… I am letting off the hook… there are no hard feelings… I take full responsibility for my actions. You can go."

"You think this is about responsibility? No, it's about your health, your life and us not doing anything about it while you are having fits and retching blood. It's about us having to live with ourselves if something terrible happens to you" Seth was almost yelling.

Dean looked at him. With determination he started to walk away from his friends, but Roman's hand grabbed him by the arm. He looked angry, but he couldn't tell if he was angry at him or Seth.

"No" he said sternly "I am not going anywhere. I have known you for years now. I know exactly what kind of person you are and how your mind works… And I believe you… so I'm staying with you through this… because we are brothers…" he hugged him tight.

"Brothers" he repeated with breaking voice.

Seth looked at them.

'This is crazy' he thought. Reason told him to go; leave and don't look back; this wouldn't end well, he knew it. He stared at Dean who looked so tired and afraid, so fragile and sad.

So he followed his heart.

And stayed.

With his brothers.

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Someday you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn to be
Brothers in arms

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I've witnessed your suffering
As the battle raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hell and
The moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line in your palm
We are fools to make war
On our brothers in arms

-Dire Straits: Brothers in Arms-