The New Big Brother
– – Chapter Three – –
"Sometimes, It's Okay for Sam to Be the Big Brother"
Come on, Sammy. You've almost got it. Just pull a little bit harder."
Sam pulled as hard as he could on the fishing pole, holding on for dear life as he felt the line slip out a bit farther.
"Come on, Sammy. You can do it. Don't let it get away!"
Sam yanked and he felt the line jerk in closer to him.
"Come on, Sam. You're almost there."
Sam tugged harder. The line pulled in slowly, and he cranked the reel to hold on tight to it.
"Alright, Sam. One more tug. On the count of three pull as hard as you can. Ready?"
Sam nodded his head in response and prepared to tug.
"One, two, THREE!"
Sam yanked the line as hard as he could, and his eyes lit up as a small silver fish came shooting out of the water. He let out a cry of happiness and swung the pole around to get the fish over land. He watched in fascination as the fish, suspended in midair from the end of his line, swung quickly over the surface of the water, made its way over the sand of the beach, and landed with a moist plop smack in the middle of his brother's face.
Dean let out a cry of indignation as the fish flopped around in his face, and his hands went up to swat it away. "Sam! Get this thing out of my face!"
The smile left Sam's face as he moved his rod away from his brother, sending the fish past his head. He was afraid he had made him mad.
Then he saw the grin on his brother's face, and Sam's face lit up as Dean started laughing. Sam quickly joined in, giggling insanely as he took in the sight of Dean's face, covered in a wet, slimy mess, his hair dripping water down his face.
"Dean, you look so funny!" Sam said between giggles.
"Oh, haha, Sammy, I wonder why. Maybe it's because my little brother just slapped me in the face with a FISH!"
The two brothers fell into a fit of laughter, the fish flopping gently on the end of Sam's line, for the moment forgotten. Dean wiped at his face with his hand, which only served to spread the mess around and make Sam laugh harder.
"Oh, you think that's funny, do you? My face all covered in fish goo?"
Sam couldn't answer him; he was laughing so hard.
"Well, we'll just see who gets the last laugh." Dean lunged for his brother with a playful growl, and on instinct Sam swung the pole around, and Dean yelped as he got another faceful of flopping fish.
Sam thought his sides would split from the laughter.
"Oh that's it, Sammy. You're toast. Your little fish friend can't save you from my ultimate weapon."
Sam's eyes grew wide as an evil grin spread over his brother's face.
"No…not…you can't-"
"Oh yeah, Sammy. You know what it is. Better start running," Dean threatened, bursting out into an incredibly cheesy maniacal laugh.
Sam shrieked, dropped his pole, and was off like a shot, running as fast as his little legs would carry him up the sand.
Dean smiled and started after him. Seconds later, he playfully tackled his little brother to the ground, ignoring Sam's squeaky pleas of, "Please! No tickles!"
Dean laughed as he turned his brother over and attacked his stomach with his hands, tickling him ruthlessly. Sam started giggling loudly, his hands fighting helplessly to stop his brother from tickling him to death.
"Dean! Quit it!" he laughed, shrieking loudly.
Dean continued his onslaught, laughing as his brother writhed beneath him, giggling uncontrollably. Sam stopped swatting at his big brother's hands.
"I surrender! I surrender!" he shrieked between giggles.
Dean smiled, letting up on the tickle attack. They lay on the sand for a bit, until Sam's laughter had died down.
"Oh, Sam. You know you're no match for my ultimate weapon."
Sam just laughed, and Dean continued to smile.
Suddenly a look of wonder passed over Sam's face.
"My fish!" he shouted, suddenly remembering what had caused the tickle attack in the first place. He jumped up and ran down the sand toward the fish, which was lying still on the ground. His first fish.
Dean came up behind him. "Jeez, Sammy. Look at the size of this thing. It's huge!"
A look of confusion passed over Sam's face. "It's not that big."
"Of course it is!" Dean replied. "It's massive!"
"But your fish is so much bigger than mine," Sam said, staring at the fish that Dean had caught earlier that day.
"Well, I've had a bit more practice than you have, Sammy. Trust me. In a few years you'll be able to catch even bigger fish."
Sam smiled. "Really?"
"You bet," Dean replied with a grin.
Sam's smile widened as he thought of all the big fish he would be able to catch in just a few years.
"Now, what do you say I show you how to clean this up, and we'll give you another shot?"
"Cool."
The two brothers knelt down in the soft, warm sand, and Dean taught Sam how to get the fish off the hook.
Sam sighed happily, trying to hold on to the sight that started to slowly slip away from him. The vision faded away, and Sam opened his eyes wearily, blinking as a harsh, bright light invaded his sleep worn eyes. Sam frowned as he tried to hold on to the dream he had been having.
He remembered that day vividly. It was one of his happiest. He had been six and his brother ten. Dean was teaching him how to catch fish. Dad had taught Dean when Sam was just a little baby, and now Dean was passing on the knowledge, as he would continue to pass on more knowledge when he got older. They were by the lake outside the cabin they were staying in. It was the only real vacation he could remember having with his family.
As his eyes began to adjust to the light, Sam felt the all too familiar feeling of waking and not knowing where he was. As a kid, with all the moving around they had done, he was used to waking up in strange new places and strange new beds. As he took in his surroundings, he recognized the harsh, white walls…the mechanical beeping…the sterile smell…and the hard feel of a not-so-comfortable bed.
A hospital. He was in a hospital. But why was he-
Suddenly, his memories came flooding back, hitting him hard.
The cabin.
His father…possessed.
Dean bleeding.
The car getting hit with a semi.
His father…dead.
The truck driver's body hitting the ground.
Dean dying.
Dean coming back.
Waking up in the hospital, hearing the news about his brother.
Dean flatlining in the ER.
Dean…dead.
Sam moaned as his head swam with the painful onslaught of a thousand bad memories and feelings flinging themselves on him at once. He reached up a hand to touch his forehead, feeling tubes and wires stretch as he flexed his arm. He never reached his head, however. His arm fell back down. He felt so weak…so tired. He started panting, afraid.
Then he heard a gentle voice reach past the haze surrounding him.
"Hey, Sam. It's okay. You're fine. It'll pass in a minute. The drugs are just making you a bit drowsy."
Sam slowly turned his head toward the voice and saw the female EMT standing next to him, smiling gently.
"Wha…"
"Just relax. It'll be fine."
Sam was too tired to protest, and he closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing down.
He lay there for a few minutes, and slowly the haze began to lift. He was breathing slowly and steadily and the fogginess in his head had dissipated. He opened his eyes and was happy to see that the room had stopped spinning.
"There. What'd I tell ya?"
Sam looked at the woman, slowly remembering who she was. She was at the crash site…in the ER….
"How do you feel, Sam?"
Honestly, aside from a dull ache in his ribs, a small sting on his right cheek, and an overall feeling of extreme tiredness, Sam didn't feel too bad. Apparently the accident-
"Dean," Sam croaked, his throat dry. "How's my brother?"
Sam's heart lifted as the woman continued to smile at him. "He's going to be fine, Sam. Do you remember what happened?"
Sam frowned, trying to remember. He had been in the ER…Dean was dead, the heart monitor showing a steady flat line…Sam was crying…he felt helpless...he had reached out with his mind, willing his brother to come back to him…he had collapsed on the floor…the monitor had blipped…the doctors had looked astounded…then Dean's eyes had opened and he had turned toward Sam, eyes shining brightly, as he weakly called his name…then everything had gone black.
Sam smiled. Dean was alive.
"I'll take that as a yes," she said in response to the smile on Sam's face.
"What happened?" he croaked out, drawn out of his reverie by her voice.
"You passed out on the floor after your brother came back. Some doctors came over to check on you. You seemed okay. We figure the whole ordeal took a lot out of you. You had a lot of adrenaline rushing through you while you were worrying over your brother, and once you realized he was okay, the adrenaline left and the extent of your fatigue and injuries became apparent to your body. Your ribs were fairly bruised, but not broken. You had a few cuts on your face, probably from flying glass from the crash. We were afraid you might have a concussion, but it seems you didn't suffer any head trauma. Mostly you were just exhausted. They hooked you up and put you to bed. You've been out for four days."
"Four days?" Sam questioned.
"It's not uncommon, especially after an accident of that magnitude. We were all a bit surprised that you were conscious as long as you were. Most people…well, most people wouldn't be."
"Dean?"
"Most of the doctors called it a miracle. Some of them called it determination. A strong will. Some of them called it sheer luck. But your brother came through it. He was concerned for you when he saw you pass out, but when the doctors decided you seemed okay, I told him you were going to be fine. He nodded before he fell unconscious. But his heart and breathing kept up a steady pace. He was stabilized enough that we could get him into surgery. He suffered massive blood loss, mostly through deep gouges in his stomach which the doctors are still at a lose to explain…."
She said the last bit with a hint of accusation in her voice, but she continued. "He was bleeding internally, too, probably from the car crash."
Sam winced, knowing that the internal bleeding must have also been caused by the demon.
"He slammed his head fairly hard on his window. There was blood spattered on the backseat. We were afraid he may have suffered head trauma, too, though it appears he was as lucky as you were. We patched him up in surgery and inserted a chest tube to get the internal blood out. We've given him a lot of blood transfusions. I actually checked on him a few minutes ago. Thought I'd stop by and check on you. The chest tube should be ready to come out soon. He came around once, asking about you. You were still unconscious, but they assured him you'd be fine. They put him back to sleep. He's sleeping right now. He's going to need a lot of relaxation and bed rest in order for his external and internal wounds to heal. Like I said, it's been four days, and we can honestly tell you that he is going to make it through this. We have no reason to believe he won't. He's healing well. You should be able to see him soon. I may even be able to convince them to move him to your room."
Sam listened to her explanation, but his mind seemed only to register the most important facts. 'A miracle…lucky…we can honestly tell you that he is going to make it through this…we have no reason to believe he won't…you should be able to see him soon.'
Sam smiled as the sheer magnitude of what she was telling him sank in. Dean was alive. He was going to be okay. They were going to make it through this. Dean was going to be pissed about the lots of relaxation and bed rest idea once he came around, but he'd get over it. Sam would make sure of that.
"Your brother has a strong will to live, Sam. Real determination. Love. He'll come out of this in time. He's a strong fighter."
Sam laughed lightly. She had no idea…
"Sam…."
Sam frowned when she hesitated, her smile replaced by a look of sadness.
"Do you know what happened to your father?"
"Dad," Sam whispered, suddenly remembering what had happened. He had been so caught up in thinking about his brother, he had forgotten about his father. "He's gone," he croaked, his eyes looking to her for confirmation.
"Yes. I'm afraid so. The doctors are…they believe he died on impact. He was closest to the truck when it hit…I'm so sorry."
Sam could only lie there, fighting back tears, as he thought about his father. That's it. He was really gone. He had begged Sam to kill him, to destroy the demon they had spent their whole lives hunting. But Sam had learned something in the past year…one of many things his big brother had taught him. Family was what mattered. Family was the most important thing. He had spared his father's life, only to have it snatched away from him minutes later by a stupid truck. His father, the strongest fighter and hunter he had known aside from his brother, died in a stupid car crash. Not fighting some dark evil that was hell bent on destroying countless families like theirs, but in a wreck of twisted metal and broken glass. Sam couldn't believe he was gone. Did Dean even know? Sam had told him after the crash, but could he remember?
"Dean…does he…does he remember what happened?"
"I don't know, Sam. He hasn't really been awake long enough to tell us. Did you ever tell him?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's possible he remembers. We can't know for sure until we ask him, and well…we figured it would be best if you brought it up."
"God," Sam choked out, his voice full of emotion as he felt warm tears slide gently down his face. Sam wasn't looking forward to possibly having to tell Dean that dreadful news yet again. It had been hard enough the first time…
"Oh, Sam. I'm so sorry," she said. Sam caught the hint of tears forming in her eyes, and he was too tired to wonder at why she seemed so affected by what had happened to him. He felt himself growing tired again under the weight of the mixed emotions of grief and relief he was feeling.
"Go back to sleep, Sam. You need to rest." She gently laid a hand on his forehead and smiled, her eyes watery.
Sam closed his eyes, and his thoughts shifted from his father to Dean. His brother was alive. He was going to live. Sam missed his father horribly. He would always miss him. But for right now, he tried to focus on Dean. They were going to make it through this loss. Their father would not die in vain. They would grieve…and then they would honor him. They would continue to fight the good fight. And along the way, Sam was going to make damn sure that he and his brother took advantage of Dean's second chance and made some more happy memories to add to the few that he had from his childhood. They were going to get through this. It was hard, but they would do it.
They were Winchesters after all.
Sam drifted off to sleep, thinking about his brother and his father.
"Hey, Sammy, come on out here! We're gonna make s'mores!"
Little Sammy looked out the sliding glass door of the cabin and smiled at the sight of his daddy and his big brother sitting on logs around a campfire, squishing marshmallows onto sticks. Sam hurried outside. He grabbed the stick Dean offered him, sat down between his father and his brother, and stuck the stick out near the fire. He looked up into his daddy's face and was happy to see him smiling.
John Winchester reached down and gently rubbed his son's head, laughing along with Dean when he pulled his hand away and Sam's hair stood up on end. Someday he was going to give his son a proper haircut.
"What's so funny?" Sam asked, confused at their sudden outburst.
"Nothing, kiddo. Nothing at all," John replied.
Sam continued to look confused, and when they continued laughing, he simply joined in. John reached down and fixed his son's hair as best as he could.
"Daddy, your mushmellow's on fire."
John looked at his stick and saw the end burning brightly. He pulled it away from the flames and blew on it. The flame went out, leaving behind a crusty, blackened shell that used to be a marshmallow.
"Opps," he said. "Oh well, shouldn't let it go to waste." He blew on it loudly then shoved the black mess, stick and all, into his mouth. He pulled it away to show a gooey remainder still stuck on the stick.
"Ewwwwwww," Sam said, looking disgusted.
"Gross, Dad."
"You think that's gross?" John opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.
"Ewwwwww," both his sons replied.
John laughed as he swallowed the mess in his throat.
"Hey, Dad," Dean said. "I'll bet I can make mine look even grosser."
And then it was a mad dash between Dean and Sam to see who could get their marshmallow into their mouth first and open wide.
It was a tie.
It quickly turned into a mad dash to see who could stuff the most marshmallows into his mouth and still be able to talk.
John, naturally, won. Though Dean gave him a run for his money.
It quickly devolved into a burping contest.
Sam packed a surprising punch.
Then it became a marshmallow throwing fight.
John smiled. This was the first time he had really sat down and taught his children the finer points of simply being boys. He was going to try his hardest for this short amount of time to teach them everything he knew.
Back in the hospital, the woman standing next to Sam's side watched as a peaceful smile passed over his face. She smiled and left Sam to his dreams.
Sam continued to smile as the dream played out. That vacation may have been their last together, but John Winchester had certainly left a lasting impression on his boys.
He had made sure they would remember it forever.
Dean would never again lose a mouth-stuffing contest.
Sam sighed in contentment as another good dream slowly faded away from him. He wasn't sure if this one was something that had really happened to him or not. He had felt very young and very small… and greatly loved.
His Mom had tucked him gently into his crib and left the room, returning a while later carrying Dean in her arms. Sam knew it was Dean, though he could hardly remember him being so small. She had smiled as she put him down on the floor. Dean had run over to Sam's crib, a smile bright on his small face, and leaned over the bars to give Sam a light kiss on the forehead, saying happily, "Night, Sam." His mother had come over then and gently touched his head, copying Dean's kiss as she whispered, "Good night, love."
Then Sam had heard his Dad's voice say, "Hey, Dean," and he had seen him standing in the doorway, a smile wider than any Sam had ever seen on his face. Dean had run over to their father, happily crying, "Daddy!" and leaping into John's wide-open arms. John had lifted his son high up into the air saying, "Hey buddy." Sam watched as his father held his older brother close and asked him if he thought Sam was ready to toss around a football yet, to which Dean had shook his head and laughed, saying, "No, Daddy." He watched as his mother walked past the happy sight, making sure that John would handle putting little Dean to bed. Sam had looked happily at his father as he had smiled at him from the doorway and said, "Sweet dreams, Sammy," before leaving the room and turning the light off. Sam had turned his head toward the ceiling, giggling happily and shoving his tiny legs into the air as the mobile above his head began to turn and play a gentle, soothing tune.
That was when Sam was slowly pulled away from his dream into the waking world. Sam opened his eyes and blinked slowly in the bright, white light.
"Well, it's about time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty. Thought I might have to resort to paying someone to kiss you."
Sam smiled as he recognized the sound of Dean's voice. He turned his head to the left and found Dean lying on a bed near him, a small smile on his lips.
"Ouch, Dean. That hurt," Sam replied, playing along.
"Yeah, well, truth does, Sammy. I sure as hell wasn't going to kiss you."
Sam laughed lightly at his brother's joke and the smile on his face. He missed this. The joking around, the playful insults. It felt like so long since they had been able to do this.
Sam continued to stare at his brother, taking in his appearance. He was sitting up slightly in the bed. There was a mass of tubes and IV's spread over his body, and he could see thick bandages covering his chest under the paisley green nightgown he was wearing. He looked paler than usual and more tired, and Sam would bet his left arm that Dean was not happy in his new outfit, but the sight of Dean alive and breathing was more than Sam could have hoped for.
"Dude, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stare at people?"
Sam shook himself out of his stupor. "Sorry, Dean. You never were a very good role model in the manners department," Sam replied with a grin.
Dean laughed, and Sam felt his heart soar at the sound. Dean smirked and replied, "Yeah, you got a point there."
Sam laughed again.
Yeah, his brother was going to be just fine.
"Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah, Sam?"
Sam paused, unsure about whether or not he wanted to change the mood a bit. But then, if Dean was back to being himself, he figured he wouldn't get many chances to say anything.
"I'm really glad you're okay, man. I almost lost you."
Sam waited to see how Dean would react, hoping that maybe just once, Dean would go along with him.
And for once, he did.
"I'm right here, Sam. I'm not leaving anytime soon."
Sam smiled. "Good."
Dean continued to look at him, and since he wasn't pushing him away yet, Sam thought he would try and talk to him.
"Dean, can I ask you something?" he asked, a questioning look replacing his smile.
"Sure, Sam."
"What…I mean…did you really…what happened when you…." Sam swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "What happened when you came back?"
Sam could tell Dean was going to push him away this time. "Sammy, I don't want to-"
"Dean, please. I heard you…I heard you…call out for Mom."
Dean sighed, his gaze turning toward the ceiling.
"Dean, please," Sam begged. "Just talk to me?"
Sam watched Dean blink a few times, and he was surprised to see tears forming in his brother's eyes. He didn't let them fall, though. He closed his eyes, like he was willing himself to stop. Then he turned once more to face Sam. Sam just stared at him, quietly begging him to open up, for once, and just let him in.
Sam didn't even have to pull the face this time. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He had been so close to dying. So close to leaving his brother behind. So close to…resting. Rest, and sleep, and peace. But Sam had needed him. Sam needed him now. And since Dean could rarely deny his brother what he asked for, he decided, for once, to let go of his pride, let down his walls, and let his brother in.
"I was…it was really loud. I was in the ER, but…I wasn't really there. Maybe. I don't know. But…there was a lot of noise, a lot of movement. Everything was so clear. I was standing there next to this group of doctors who were huddled around…something. I couldn't tell what it was…it was too blurry. Then I…I saw you come bursting in the door. You looked…you were upset. I…I wanted to…I opened my mouth, I wanted to tell you I was there, that I was fine. But nothing came out. I couldn't move. All I could do was stare at you. This woman came over to you and brought you off to the side of the room, and you were staring at the doctors who were working on…me. I suddenly realized it was me…I just…I didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to admit that I was dead and that I had failed you. I saw you…just standing there. Looking so…."
"Then everything started going fuzzy. Things blurred together and I felt like I was being pulled away…from you…from everything. I tried to call out again, but nothing happened. And then…then everything got really…quiet…and peaceful. The noise disappeared, the movement…things got fuzzier and…brighter…but not painful bright. More like…peaceful bright. I couldn't feel anything. And then…I……"
Sam watched Dean close his eyes tightly, swallowing hard, and he knew his brother was fighting back tears. Dean turned his head away from Sam, toward the ceiling. He looked like he was somewhere else, far away in his thoughts.
"Mom. Mom was there. I could see her. She was…she was dressed the same way she was when we…when we saw her in our old house. But she looked…happy. So happy. And so peaceful. I was just…so happy to see her, I couldn't think of much else. I just know that I didn't want to leave. I could feel something pulling me toward her…it's hard to explain. I just knew that I wanted… I wanted to go where she was…I wanted to let this feeling just…take me away. I had felt so tired, so weak before, and now…I just wanted to…rest…be at peace. Then she…she talked to me. I don't remember much of what she said. But she said…she said it wasn't my time yet. She told me…I had so much else left to do. She said…she said…."
Tears started to fall down Sam's face as he watched his brother struggle for words. Dean swallowed hard.
"She said you needed me. I was so tired, Sam. So ready to just…move on…to sleep forever and ever and never wake up. But…she said you needed me. And then I…I just knew. She was right. I couldn't leave yet. Not when…not when you still needed me. I remembered, after the crash, you had told me that you needed me to stay, and I…I couldn't go, Sam. Things started…things started blurring back. The brightness just disappeared and I could see the room again. Mom was still there…standing next to me…smiling at me. I told her…I told her I wanted to go back, but I…I didn't know how. She put her hand on my arm and told me to concentrate. To just…focus on how much I wanted to stay. I tried, Sam. I tried. But…I don't know, I guess it just wasn't enough…I felt so far gone. And then…then I…."
Dean sniffled, and Sam watched as Dean quickly rubbed at his eyes, which were threatening to run over.
"I heard you, Sam. I felt this…connection, I guess you could call it. And I heard you tell me not to leave…that you needed me…that you…."
Dean didn't have to say it. Sam remembered what he had told him. I love you.
Dean continued.
"I heard you, Sam, and I…I focused harder on how much I wanted to answer you…how much I wanted to just open my eyes and tell you I was okay and that I wasn't going to leave…that I would never leave. And I guess…I guess it worked. I felt the warmth slip away…the peace…the quiet…I felt cold…I could feel…everything started to hurt…and Mom. Mom…she…she smiled at me, she told me everything was going to be okay. She squeezed my arm gently, and then…she let go. I felt myself slipping away from her…felt the room start spinning, everything going hazy. Everything hurt. I…I didn't want her to leave…I didn't…I wanted her to stay. But…she was gone…and then…I came back. And well…."
Dean turned back to him.
"You remember the rest, don't you?"
Sam nodded, not trusting himself to be able to speak properly.
Dean looked back to the ceiling, and a silence settled down between them. They both lay there, not saying anything, for a long time.
Finally, Sam broke the silence.
"Dean, I hope I didn't…I mean, if you were…happy…I hope I didn't…I'm sorry I pulled you away from that."
Dean jerked his head around to face Sam and spoke quickly and vehemently. "Don't, Sam. Don't. You didn't pull me away from anything. I mean, yeah, it was…it felt nice. But…as much as I wanted it…I wanted to be here more. You needed me, and I could never be at peace knowing that. I wanted to come back, Sam. You helped me. You didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to. You got that?"
Now this was more like the Dean he knew and loved. Sam smiled.
"Yeah, Dean. I got it."
"Good. 'Cause I'm not gonna have you feeling guilty over the fact that I'm alive. You should be bowing down to me and kissing my ass."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, sure Dean. Whatever you say."
Dean smirked. "Well, at the very least you should be happy."
Sam smiled. "I am happy, Dean."
"Yeah. I know you are, Sam. I actually figured that one out."
"Wow, all on your own, huh? Somebody call the papers."
"Oh, very funny smartass."
Their beds were close enough together, and Dean reached his arm out and smacked Sam upside his head, causing Sam to start laughing. Dean quickly joined in.
"Hey guys, what's so funny?"
The boys turned their heads toward the voice, and Sam saw the female EMT standing in the doorway.
"Hey, Rose. Look who finally decided to wake up," Dean said, inclining his head toward Sam.
"Rose?" Sam questioned. He suddenly realized that he had never learned her name.
"Yeah. Sorry, Sam. Guess I forgot to mention my name. Everything was…a bit crazy."
Sam laughed. "That's a bit of an understatement."
Rose laughed in return as she entered the room.
"Rose has been keeping me company while you've been asleep," Dean said.
"You slept for awhile again. Three days," Rose told him.
"Three days?"
"Yeah."
"How long have you been awake, Dean?" Sam asked his brother.
"Off and on for the past few days. Things were starting to get a bit uneventful around here. Though I have to say, Sam, the nurses here are…well, let's just say they're hotter than the nurses at the last hospital I stayed in." Sam grinned as Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Rose.
Rose didn't even flinch. "I'm an EMT, not a nurse. And you should know by now that your wiles don't work on me."
Dean pouted at her. "How could you possibly be immune to this?" he said, gesturing at himself.
"I have eyes," she retorted, a smile on her face. Sam could tell she was trying hard not to laugh.
"Ouch. I'm hurt," Dean said, clutching his heart and fluttering his lashes at the ceiling.
"Drama queen."
The room filled with laughter.
"Well, Dean, you do look a bit ridiculous in those pajamas," said Sam.
Dean looked down at himself, and when he looked up again he had an all-too-familiar pissed off look on his face. "Thanks for reminding me, Sam."
"Any time, Dean."
"But in case you haven't noticed, you're wearing the exact same thing I am."
Sam realized he was right. Busted.
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
Sam smiled at how easily they were able to slip back into being just brothers.
Suddenly, without warning, Dean let out an enormous yawn.
"What's the matter, old man? Time for your nap?" Sam quipped.
"Actually, that's probably a good idea," Rose said. "You really need your rest, Dean."
"Who are you, my mother?" asked Dean through another yawn.
"No, actually, I'm your friend. Or… at least…." Sam noticed Rose clam up and blush in embarrassment. But as quickly as it had appeared, the blush was gone. "Well, technically I'm a sort-of-doctor, and it's my medical opinion that you need to sleep."
Sam knew this tactic. He'd seen it a lot in his brother. She had let her guard down, and she was trying to cover up the feelings she had let slip.
Dean took pity on her predicament and broke the awkward silence by going along with her request.
"Five more minutes?"
Well, almost going along with her.
Rose covered up her shyness with a firm laugh. "Sure, five more minutes. Then you should try and get some more sleep. I don't want to have to tell the doctors to separate you two because you were keeping each other awake all day."
"No problem," Dean said with a smirk.
"Well…I'll leave you guys alone."
Rose turned and headed toward the door, but Sam stopped her.
"Rose?"
She turned around and looked at him.
"Yeah?"
"Will you come back sometime? Before we leave, I mean. I know we'll probably be here awhile. Well, Dean will anyway."
"Hey!" Dean shouted in indignation.
Sam smiled and continued. "It's just that…I have some things I…I wanted to ask you about…about what happened…that night."
Sam knew he had felt something that night of the car crash. Somehow, she had been able to calm him down when no one and nothing else could. At the crash site, in the ER. He had gotten a strange feeling from her, and he was mildly curious about it.
Rose frowned at him. "Sure, Sam," she said, and Sam was sad to find that she didn't sound very convincing.
This time, Rose broke the awkward silence. She glanced at Dean. "Five minutes," she said, pointing a reprimanding finger at him and grinning.
"Yes, sir!" Dean said with a mock salute.
Rose rolled her eyes and Sam could hear her laugh as she left the room.
After a few seconds, Dean spoke. "So," he said, a hint of suggestion in his voice. "You have some questions about what happened that night, huh?" Dean said with a smirk, raising his eyebrows.
Sam would have thrown his pillow at Dean's head if it wasn't the only thing he had that made the bed comfortable. He settled for a simple retort.
"Do you ever think with your upstairs brain, Dean?"
"Hey man, what can I say? I live in a gutter."
Sam laughed at first, then brought the conversation back to serious.
"It's just that…I don't know. She has this…effect on people. On me anyway. It's just…whenever she was around, I felt…I don't know…"
"Calm?"
Sam frowned. "Yeah."
"I've noticed it, too, Sammy."
"It's like some kind of force field or something. I was so upset over…that night. I was…angry. Really angry."
"I heard about your little…tantrums," Dean said delicately. "Screaming, yelling, breaking stuff…without touching it."
"Yeah."
"You've got most of the doctors in this place freaked, Sam. Every time they come in here to check on you they look like they've seen a ghost. They speed through whatever they have to do and run out in a hurry. You've gotten quite a reputation around here."
Sam didn't know what else to say except, "Yeah."
"Sammy…"
Sam looked up at him.
"I'm so proud of you," Dean said with a sniffle, his voice dripping with mock affection.
Sam looked at his brother.
He had totally seen that one coming.
He grinned and laughed. "Go to sleep, Dean."
"Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah, Dean?"
"I gotta ask you something."
Sam looked at him in confusion, wondering what it could be.
"Sure, man. What is it?"
"You do…you know…you know about Dad, right?"
Sam felt his heart fall out of chest. Suddenly the happy, warm feeling in the room was sucked out and replaced with a hard, cold, empty one. A hard lump formed in Sam's throat. He swallowed.
"So you know then? That Dad's…d-"
"Sam, don't."
"Dean?"
"Some people came in while you were out. They asked me about…the crash. The doctors tried to get them to go away. Said I wasn't ready for an interrogation. But…I just wanted to get it over with, you know? I told them what I could about the accident, made some stuff up to explain…the truck driver. They never found the Colt. I don't know what happened to it."
Dean paused, and Sam waited for him to continue.
"The doctors didn't have to tell me about…about Dad. I remembered. I asked them what…what was going to happen to…to his…to him. They told me some people would come in at some point so I could…make arrangements. Dad always said…he said I was in charge of everything in case…in case something happened. Dad had wills written up under all of our fake names that leave everything to me…to us. They showed up yesterday…."
Sam tried hard not to cry at the broken, lost look that had suddenly surfaced on Dean's face. He hated seeing his big brother like this. He was always the strong one. Sometimes Sam wished he would show emotion and share his feelings more. But then, on those few occasions when he did, his emotions and feelings made him seem ten times more vulnerable, and it killed Sam inside to see him like that.
Dean was always the one being strong for Sam.
Now Sam would try and return the favor.
"What did you tell them?"
"Chelsea, Kansas. Next to Mom's memorial."
Sam held back tears.
"Do you remember Chelsea?" Dean asked.
"No."
"Well, Dad had wanted…wanted to give Mom a memorial. For our sake, I guess. Not for his own. He didn't want to bury an empty casket, so he just had a small stone put up with her name on it. 'Loving mother and wife.' He put it up in Chelsea Cemetery in Chelsea, Kansas. Back before…before Mom died…we used to go for a week every summer to a cabin by the lake in El Dorado State Park. I barely remember that place with Mom there, but Dad said they went there every year before I was born, and they kept going after. Dad taught me a lot up there. Taught me how to play football, how to fish…. You went once during the summer when…when Mom died…and once more when you were…I don't know, six? Anyway, according to Dad every year he and Mom would visit this little town called Chelsea next to the lake. It was a tiny place, a township more than a town. But Mom loved it. She liked the small town feel…the intimacy…the sense of community and closeness. We all went there the year…in '83…but I don't remember it. After Mom died Dad brought us there once to see it. I don't remember that either. We never went back. But Dad always told me…he told me that that's where he wanted…where he wanted to be…buried. When he died. Next to where Mom…where Mom should have been if…."
Dean broke off and lay there in silence. Sam watched him, wondering if he wanted to talk anymore.
After a minute, he spoke again.
"So yeah. I told them. They made the arrangements. Dad's gonna be buried there in a few days. I know we won't be there to see it, but…I don't even know if…"
Sam watched as a few tears escaped Dean's eyes. Sam tried hard to stem the flow of his own tears, but a few escaped. As he watched tears fall silently down Dean's face, as Dean did nothing to try and stop them, Sam felt like he had to say something. But he was at a lose.
"Dean, it's gonna be okay."
"Sam…I can't…"
"It's okay."
Slowly, Sam reached out his arm, bridging the gap between himself and Dean. He laid his hand gently on his brother's arm. Dean didn't pull away. He just continued to stare at the ceiling, tears slowly falling.
Sam's heart ached when Dean spoke again.
"I can't believe he's gone, Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice breaking.
Sam couldn't say anything. He couldn't think. All he could feel was an empty feeling in his chest where he heart was supposed to be. He didn't know what to do. He just wanted to tell him that the two of them, together, could make it through this.
"Dean…I don't know…it hurts. It hurts a lot. It'll…it'll never really go away…the hurt. But…we have each other. We can get through anything. I mean, look what we've been through in the past year alone."
Sam watched as a small smile spread over Dean's face.
"Yeah, we've been through hell," Dean said quietly.
"And we always come back."
Sam watched as his brother continued to stare at the ceiling. Sam kept his hand on Dean's arm. A simple gesture meant to comfort and reassure his brother that he was still with him, and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
After a minute, Dean let out a loud sigh. His tears had stopped flowing and he hadn't said a word. He turned to Sam, tears drying on his face.
"Thank you."
Sam smiled gently, his own tears long dry. He squeezed Dean's arm gently.
"You're welcome."
The action seemed to draw Dean back. He gently drew his arm out from under Sam's hand, turned his head to the side away from him, and quickly rubbed at his face. Sam pulled his arm back, smiling at his brother's futile attempt to hide.
When Dean turned back to him, all signs that he had been crying moments ago were gone. Well, aside from the obvious red eyes and most likely stuffed nose. He could tell that Dean was trying to figure out how to draw the conversation back to normal and get Sam to forget what had just transpired. Sam decided to help him out.
"Dean, you look like crap. I think it's time for your nap, old man."
Dean feigned surprise. "Dude, didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your elders?"
Sam smiled. "What can I say, man? I had a crappy teacher."
Dean shook his head, laughing. "Yeah, sure."
Sam watched Dean move the back of the bed down with a button. The bed moved down a little ways and stopped. Dean realigned himself, and Sam noticed a look of pain flash quickly over his face before disappearing. Dean settled down and closed his eyes. Sam thought he was ready to comply.
"Hey, Sam? How about a little daytime TV first, huh?"
"Dean…" Sam said warningly. He had the look on his face that meant it was time to stop screwing around, drop the subject, and listen. It was another look Dean was hard pressed to ignore. Dean's eyes were closed, but Sam was fairly certain Dean could feel the look through his eyelids as he smiled and replied, "Sure, Sammy. Whatever you say."
Sam lay there for a few minutes, watching his brother drift off into a quiet slumber. Finally he heard him breathing softly and slowly. Sam turned his head up toward the ceiling. He didn't feel tired. He'd been asleep for a week. He looked around him for a buzzer that would call a nurse in. He found it on a table next to his bed and pushed it.
A nurse came in a few minutes later, looking slightly nervous when she found out it was him who had buzzed. Dean was right. He really had spooked the hospital.
To her credit, the nurse put on a very professional attitude as she looked him over, checked on his machines and tubes and injuries. Finally, she told him that she would get a doctor to come in, give him a full exam, and let him know how he was doing and when he'd be able to get out. Then she had hurried out of the room faster than Sam would have guessed she could move.
Sam sighed and turned his attention once more to the ceiling.
He and Dean were going to be bored shitless by tomorrow.
For the next three weeks, Sam and Dean remained in the hospital.
For the two brothers, those three weeks felt like an eternity.
After being checked on by his doctor, Sam was given the news that he was healing very well, and he would be able to leave the hospital in a matter of days. During that time, some men came in to question him about the accident. Sam told them everything his brother had already made up. They looked skeptical, but they accepted the story, and they hadn't come back since.
Apparently, the gun had never been found.
When he was released from the hospital a few days later, Sam went out to see what could be done about the car. He brought it to Bobby, and when Bobby agreed that it was fixable, they settled on a price. A considerably small price.
It felt nice to have friends in high places.
Sam returned to the hospital to give Dean the news that his baby was being fixed up, and that they should be able to drive it in a couple months. Dean was…ecstatic to say the least.
After that, Sam stayed by Dean's bedside. As he had predicted, Dean was bored to tears. The doctors said he needed at least a month to recover, but when Dean begged them to let him leave sooner, they agreed. Quite easily, in fact. Aside from the fact that Dean was driving the hospital staff nuts, Sam was pretty sure he himself had something to do with the fact that they were happy to get rid of them as soon as possible.
So for the next two and half weeks, Sam kept his brother company. Dean slept quite a bit, and when he wasn't sleeping the two of them tried their best to not die of boredom. Dean had been right about daytime TV. Fortunately, he had also been right about the nurses. Sam smiled as Dean flirted with one after the other.
After what felt like months, the doctors finally agreed to let him leave, on the condition that he continue to take a fairly large arrangement of pills, drink plenty of water, stay away from alcohol, get plenty of sleep, and follow a variety of other typical healing methods. Sam, of course, made Dean swear to the doctors that he would follow their orders. He also made Dean promise him the same. Dean made the promise to his brother, and Sam vowed to make sure he kept it.
As for Rose, Sam asked around for her a bit over the three weeks, but the doctors said that, as an EMT, she was rarely in the hospital. Sam knew she was avoiding him. She had seemed reluctant, even scared, to discuss what had happened. And honestly, Sam couldn't really blame her.
Finally, the day arrived.
It was time to leave.
Sam had already brought out all of their things, including a fistful of prescriptions for Dean's meds, and finished up all the paperwork. Dean was getting dressed.
Suddenly, Sam heard a quiet curse behind him and turned toward Dean. Sam saw his brother struggling to get into his T-shirt. Sam knew his injuries were still hurting, but as usual Dean had tried to cover up.
Sam walked toward him and put his hands out to help him.
"I'm fine, Sam. Just let me do it," Dean said, swatting at Sam's arms.
Sam sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for his stubborn brother to do it himself. Dean rolled his eyes at the ceiling and smiled, but he was able to gently ease the shirt on. When he had his jacket on over it, he looked up at Sam.
"See?" he said with a smirk. "Told ya."
Sam rolled his eyes at the ceiling. His brother would never stop being a stubborn pain in the ass.
Dean continued to smirk at Sam when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
Sam turned toward the door, a look of confusion on his face.
"Come in," he said.
The knob turned and the door opened slowly, revealing-
"Rose. Hey. It's uh…it's good to see you," Sam said, surprised that she had come back.
She smiled shyly at the two of them.
"I just…I wanted to say goodbye to you guys. It's gonna be really quiet around here with you two gone. And I can tell you there are a few nurses around here who are gonna miss you."
Dean came up next to Sam.
"I knew it," Dean said, smirking. "Some of them just couldn't take their eyes off me, huh?"
Rose's shy smile quickly turned into a grin.
"Dean, when did I say it was you there were going to miss?"
Dean raised his eyebrows to the ceiling, slightly shocked. But then he smiled at her.
"Touché."
Sam and Rose laughed.
"Well, I should let you two head out. I know you want to get out of here."
"Oh god, yes," Dean said.
Rose just smiled and rolled her eyes. Then she walked over to Dean. There was an awkward pause, and then Rose put out her hand.
"Goodbye, Dean."
Dean looked taken aback, but then he reached out and shook her hand. He smirked as he asked, "What? No goodbye kiss?"
She shook her head at him in exasperation, sighing.
"Don't ever change," she said with a laugh.
He grinned at her.
"Never."
She let go of his hand with a smile and turned to Sam.
"Goodbye, Sam," she said.
Sam smiled back at her.
Then she reached out and hugged him tightly. Sam was a bit surprised, and he caught an equal look of surprise on his brother's face.
But he went along with it, putting his arms around her to hug her back.
"Bye, Rose."
She pulled away, still smiling.
"Listen…Sam…I want to give you my cell number."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it to him. He took it from her and looked at it before smiling and putting it into his own pocket.
"If you're ever in the area again, I want you to call me, okay? There's some things I…some things I want to talk to you about."
Sam saw Dean raise his eyebrows suggestively out of the corner of his eye, and he ignored him.
"Okay?" she asked again, putting her hand on his arm and squeezing gently.
Suddenly, Sam knew she wanted to talk about what had happened that night…how she had been able to calm him down. Why she seemed to radiate this peaceful, calm feeling wherever she went. She just wasn't quite ready yet to talk to him, to let him in on her secret. She reminded him a bit of his brother…though far less annoying.
He knew he would come back sometime. And if she was ready to share, then he'd be ready to listen.
Sam smiled at her and said, "Sure."
She let go of his arm and smiled at him, and he was sure she understood.
She walked toward the door, turning around once more.
"Bye, guys. Take care."
The brothers smiled at her. Dean waved and Sam said, "You, too."
Then she left.
The two of them stood in silence a moment. Dean looked confused about the moment Rose and his brother had just shared. And a bit upset over the fact that all he'd gotten was a handshake.
Sam rolled his eyes and smiled at the look on his brother's face.
He'd explain it to him later.
In the meantime…
"Ready to get the hell out of here, big brother?" Sam asked, slapping him on the back.
Dean turned to him and smirked. "You bet your ass I am."
AN: That's not all folks! The epilogue is finished, and you don't even have to wait for it! ;)
And I just wanted to comment on how VERY happy I am that I was able to incorporate a reference to the vacuum mouth eating habits that Dean exhibited in "Nightmare" and "Provenance." Probably my favorite reference to the show that I put in here. Hopefully you caught it. ;)
