Tested
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
A/N: Well? Shocked? Angry? Disappointed?
Thanks to everyone who has read so far!
oooOOOooo
You can play by the rules, or bend them to your needs.
But the test isn't over till you reach your dark eternal sleep.
There are no absolutes, no big wheels in the sky...
You don't have to be first, just to get a sundown goodbye
From the song Tested by Bad Religion
oooOOOooo
It was almost 3:00 when Dean got out of bed. He showered and dressed in clean clothes before heading to the first floor. He paused at the top of the staircase, listening for noises from below. He heard what he thought was the television and he wondered if Sam was still at the cottage.
Stopping halfway down the steps to glance through a window, Dean noticed that Kristine's car wasn't parked where it had been the day before and when he finally got to the first floor, he saw Sam sitting on the couch. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Hey," Dean said, feeling uncharacteristically uncomfortable alone with his brother. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch.
"Hey." There was no anger in Sam's voice and Dean found it odd he had expected there to be.
"Where's Kristine?"
"She's probably still at the estate house. She was going there, and then to town to run some errands."
Dean nodded. He had yet to really look at his brother.
"Are you hungry?" Sam asked. "The owner of the inn brought some food over earlier."
Kristine's family had owned a bed and breakfast for several years. The manager had been a good friend of Julia's, Kristine's mother, and became the legal owner of the inn following Julia's death. She was one of the few people who knew the truth about how the people in the Ryan family had died and she even helped out at the safe house when she could.
At the mention of food, Dean's stomach growled and he realized it had been several hours since his last meal.
"Yeah. Have you eaten?"
"A while ago."
"Okay." Dean stood up and walked into the kitchen, wondering if Sam felt the tension that he did.
He was pulling containers out of the refrigerator when Sam walked into the kitchen. Dean was grateful for his presence, but he also felt very uneasy. He couldn't explain it other than it was coming from the fear that Sam would want to talk about what was going on. He wasn't ready to talk about it; he didn't know if he ever would be.
He still hadn't told Kristine everything and he wasn't convinced that her departure from the house had been just to run errands. Under normal circumstances, Dean would realize that she was giving him time with Sam, but there was nothing normal about what he was going through right now.
"The lasagna is really good," Sam said as he leaned back against the counter. "But there's fried chicken and meatloaf, too."
Dean looked through the various food choices and decided on a large chicken breast. He put it on a plate and put everything back into the refrigerator, not bothering with any side dishes. When he moved to the table with a soft drink and plate in hand, he noticed the worried expression on Sam's face. A moment later, Sam joined him at the table with his own soft drink.
Even as large as the piece of chicken was, Dean would normally eat a lot more. He knew the mostly empty plate was a concern to his brother, but the thought of anything else to eat just didn't appeal to Dean. He was hungry, but not even sure he could finish what he had in front of him.
After a few bites, Dean was much too aware of Sam's gaze to keep eating. He put the chicken back on the plate and reached for a napkin.
"I'm not going to break," he said to Sam, still not really looking at him.
"Yeah, I know. It's just…."
Dean wasn't sure if it was the pause or the tone of Sam's voice that caused him to finally look up. Sam had sounded scared, but Dean saw no fear in his eyes. Instead, he saw what he could only describe as determination. For what, he didn't know.
"Just what?" Dean asked.
Sam glanced away, seemingly to gather his thoughts. When he turned back to Dean, he put his hands on the table.
"It's pretty obvious that something is gong on with you. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay. I mean, if we're here so Kristine can help with it, that's great. I just….Dean, if it was me instead of you, there's no way you'd sit by the sidelines and watch me suffer. So, don't think you're going to get away with that. I just need to know you're doing something about whatever it is."
Dean looked across the table at his brother. The expression on his face was heartbreaking; his eyes were filled with such affection and he looked like he so desperately wanted Dean to be okay. Dean wondered how many times he'd looked at Sam the same way.
He must have stayed quiet for too long because Sam leaned forward. "Please, Dean."
"Sammy….yeah, I'm doing something. And don't think that I'm shutting you out, it's –"
"I don't care about that," Sam said quickly. "Except that I hope you know by now that you can tell me anything and it won't matter. I'm always going to be your brother and I'll always be right here."
All Dean could do is nod.
Sam leaned back and cleared his throat. A moment later his cell phone started to ring.
"It's in the other room," he said and stood up.
Dean ate a few more bites of chicken and composed himself before joining Sam in the living room. He was just finishing up the call.
"That was Kristine," Sam said. "Someone showed up at the house a few minutes ago looking for help with a job."
"What kind of job?"
Sam shrugged and reached for his coat. "I'm gonna go find out."
"I'm going with you. My coat's upstairs. I'll be right back."
---
Sam watched his brother rush up the stairs. Less than five minutes ago he'd been in the kitchen, barely holding himself together, and now he was ready to go full force into helping someone he didn't even know. It was more than just being able to ignore his own problems for a little while. Sam recognized the hunter that Dean had just turned in to.
He'd already decided, though, Dean wasn't going anywhere near this job. He obviously needed some time off and he needed to work through whatever was going on. Sam wanted to be the one that Dean turned to, but he knew his brother. He had to be near the end of his rope before he'd let Sam help. Eventually Dean would let him in and in the meantime, Sam was glad there was at least someone Dean could turn to until Dean was ready to talk to him.
What worried him though, was why hadn't he seen the signs before Dean was so close to a breaking point. Was he so wrapped up in himself that he didn't notice his brother was in pain? Dean had called him selfish before and maybe he was. But was he really that selfish?
He turned his attention back to Dean as he came downstairs.
Sam knew he wouldn't be able to keep Dean from going to the main house with him, but he was determined to keep him from going on the job. No matter what it turned out to be.
---
They found Kristine sitting in the den of the main house with two men. One of them Dean recognized as the man he'd seen in the kitchen before, but he didn't know the other one. The newcomer looked haggard, like he'd been on the road for a while. He also had a cast on his left arm and a lot of scratches on his face.
Kristine smiled as they walked in.
"Sam and Dean, this is Brian and Greg." She made the introductions and they shook hands, clarifying who was who.
Brian was the newcomer and when the others sat down, he remained standing. A moment later was pacing. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then turned toward Kristine.
"Brian has been here a couple of times before," Kristine explained. "I've known him for a while. He came across some vampires and –"
"I just wanted a drink and I walked into this bar," he said, his voice shaking as if it had just happened. "It was me and my best friend. We've been hunting together for years. It….The bar was full of 'em. They'd taken it over and….we were the only humans inside. There was a goddamn frenzy and my friend, Lewis, he didn't make it. I barely got out. I managed to start a fire and there was a panic."
"They do that to your arm?" Dean nodded toward him.
"Nah, I did this a few weeks ago." He sunk into an overstuffed chair. "I just got in the car and drove….I didn't even realize I was headed here."
"You don't think they left, do you?" Sam asked.
Brian shook his head. "We've been on their trail for a while. Well, on the trail of one of them anyway. We didn't realize we'd found the nest and we sure as hell didn't know they were in that bar. But that's their town. They won't leave willingly. We found evidence of the nest in a warehouse a few miles outside of town. It's a part of what used to be a factory of some kind, but it's been abandoned for what looked like a long time."
"We're getting together a posse," Greg said.
"We're in."
Sam looked at his brother. Of course he'd volunteer. He turned to Kristine, silently asking for help.
"No one is going anywhere quite yet," Kristine said. "Brian, you need to get cleaned up and you need some food."
"We can't wait too –"
"You said they won't leave the town willingly," Kristine pointed out. "There's some time. And you won't do the people there any good if you're exhausted and get yourself killed."
A moment later, Greg and Brian followed Kristine out of the room.
"I saw that," Dean said. "You and Kristine got some private language now?"
"I don't want you to go."
"What? You're kidding me, right?"
Sam had expected his brother's anger and he knew how to handle it. Sam looked at him, his eyes wide and pleading.
"No, Dean. Please, man, for me. Stay here."
"You expect me to stay here while you go off with people we don't know and hunt vampires? What part of that sounds even the least little bit like me?"
"Kristine knows them. If she thinks they're okay –"
"I'm not letting you go alone, Sam."
"I won't be alone. Listen to me, Dean. You came here for downtime. You came here for….well, whatever you came here for. I'll call Bobby and he can send some more people our way, but I really want you to stay here and let us handle it. Take care of whatever it is you need to take care of and then you and I will go find something evil to kill."
Sam watched his brother's eyes flash with anger.
"Dean –"
The older man stood up and walked across the room.
"Come on, Dean, I—"
"I'm not going to let you go off with people we don't know, Sam. It's not going to happen."
"I'm 23, man."
"I know that."
"I can handle myself."
"I know that, too." Dean's back was to Sam and his voice was quiet.
"If Kristine says these guys are okay, will you please stay here? Just this once? For me."
Dean turned around. "Why?"
Sam heard the fear and mistrust in his brother's voice. He also saw the same things on his face and it tore at Sam's heart.
"Dean…."
---
Dean felt his heart quicken and it was hard to breathe. He remembered the panic attack from the night before and was afraid it was happening again. That fear was making the feeling worse and he wasn't sure how long he could keep it together. He moved toward the window, hoping Sam wouldn't notice that he was trembling.
There had been times when they hunted apart before, but they were with people they'd known their entire lives; Caleb, Bobby, and of course, their dad. Dean had no particular intuition about these hunters and he trusted Kristine's instincts. But he also knew there were hunters who, like Gordon Walker, believed Sam was evil and something to be hunted. What if this was just some elaborate plan to take his brother?
Dean stopped at that; wondering when he had gotten so paranoid. He'd managed to calm his breathing and though is heart was still beating faster than normal, he felt more in control. Paranoid or not, there was no reason to stay behind while there were vampires to hunt. Especially not when his little brother was going to be one of the people hunting them.
---
Sam knew by the look on Dean's face that he'd lost the battle. He wasn't going to be able to keep his brother out of this hunt and he didn't think Kristine would have any better luck. Dean looked angry and determined, but he also looked scared. That was not a good combination and Sam was now even more concerned than he had been.
Kristine came back into the room a moment later.
"Everything okay in here?"
"Yeah," Dean said with a shaking voice.
Sam made eye contact with her, hoping she'd understand. He stood up. "I'm going to the kitchen."
"We're gonna need to check the weapons, Sam."
"Yeah," he said. "I'll get the bag out of the trunk."
Sam looked at Kristine again, then walked out of the room.
---
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Kristine asked.
"It's a hunt. It's what I do."
"That isn't what I asked."
"You and Sam got some secret code now or something?" Dean asked, turning back to the window. "Or are you just conspiring against me?"
"Conspiring? Dean, be serious. I could tell he's worried. And frankly, seeing how you've been acting since you've been here I am, too."
"I'm fine." Dean said coldly.
"We both know that isn't true. Come on, Dean, sit this one out."
"I'm not letting Sam go out there alone."
"I know these guys, Dean. They're good. Sam won't be alone."
"Why did you even call Sam looking for help?" Dean asked, turning around. "You didn't really think I'd just sit by and let him go alone, did you? Without me?"
"Dean…." Kristine looked at him. "I guess I wasn't thinking. I take care of the hunters who come here and Brian asked for help. But, Dean –"
"No buts," he said. "Sam doesn't go off on hunts without me. Period. End of story."
oooOOOooo
Not long after midnight, the hunters were ready to go. Kristine had insisted that Brian get some rest and once he'd settled down, he'd fallen asleep quickly. Sam had called Bobby who agreed to send some others to meet them. Sam still wasn't happy about Dean going along and had even considered backing out himself in the hope that Dean would do the same, but he couldn't to that. And, he supposed, that was the same feeling Dean had. No matter what was going on, Dean took his job seriously and he would be able to put aside everything until it was done.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? Dean always put things aside. He buried them so he could get through the day. It was always one more hunt, one more evil thing to kill. Dean put Sam's needs before his own; he put the innocent people they helped in front of him….Dean was never his own first priority.
On the drive, Sam tried to get Dean to talk. About anything. Movies, music, random women….but he stayed quiet. He answered Sam's questions with as few words as possible and didn't start any conversations on his own. Finally, Sam gave up and they continued on in silence.
Greg and Brian were in Greg's car and the Winchester brothers met up with them at a diner just south of the small Missouri town where they were headed. The four hunters Bobby had called in met them there half an hour later. Over strong coffee at a large table in the back of the diner, the hunters devised a plan. At first they considered just setting the warehouse on fire, but when Brian told them it was made of brick, they decided to just rush it and kill all the vampires as they could.
"We should get some dead man's blood, just in case," Sam pointed out.
Until fairly recently, most hunters had thought vampires to be extinct, but information about them was spreading quickly throughout the community. Once Sam explained that dead man's blood was a fast-acting poison that would, hopefully, give the hunters an advantage, there was agreement around the table.
With about five hours of daylight left, they split up to each take care of their assigned tasks. They planned to meet on the road near the abandoned factory in an hour and then head to the warehouse. Despite popular belief, vampires could survive the sunlight, but they tended to sleep during the day when they were most vulnerable. It was best to hit them before dusk.
Sam and Dean's job was to find out what they could about the vampires and the warehouse. Brian and his friend had gotten only limited information before the attack at the bar.
Dean parked the Impala well away from the factory and they continued on foot. Following Brian's directions, they easily found the right building and quickly discovered only a few windows which were set high on the walls.
"May as well not even be there," Dean grumbled.
"It wouldn't make sense for vampires to sleep in a place with a lot of sunlight streaming through it."
Dean cast him a dirty look, but he couldn't argue with his brother's logic.
"I'll go in."
"What?" Sam was incredulous. "Are you high?"
Dean seemed to consider the question, but before he could say anything, Sam started walking toward the warehouse.
"What are you doing?" Dean demanded when he caught up to him.
"I saw a stack of pallets in the back. Maybe we can climb up on them and see in."
"Good thinking, college boy."
Sam glanced at Dean. After they'd reunited that was a nickname Dean had used often, but Sam hadn't heard it in quite a while.
It took some maneuvering, but they managed to use the pallets to look into one of the windows. Neither could see very much, but it was clear there were at least four vampires sleeping on bedrolls on the floor.
"There are probably more," Sam whispered.
Dean only nodded and a few minutes they went back to the car. Sam could see that his brother was in full hunter mode, but he was still concerned about how quiet he'd been on the drive. He still wondered what had triggered his brother's pain and what keeping it at bay to handle this hunt was going to cost him.
"Seems like a simple job," Sam said as they sat on the hood of the car. "In and out, then back to Kristine's."
"Yeah, naybe."
"What?" Sam looked at him. "What do you mean, maybe?"
"Maybe we should just find another job when we're done here."
Sam knew that his brother often used hunting as a way to hide from his feelings and from the rest of the world.
"Yeah. I don't think so, Dean. We're going back to Kristine's."
Sam saw his brother's jaw set as he stared forward without responding. He had no intention of trying to get into a serious conversation now. The other hunters were expected soon and the last thing Dean would want was to be in the middle of some serious chat when they arrived.
"It's a long drive back, though," Sam continued. "Maybe we should get out of town an hour or two and find a motel."
Dean still said nothing.
Sam watched him out of the corner of his eye and decided just to let things lie where they were for now. A few minutes later the other hunters started to arrive.
---
Dean felt like he was barely holding it together. There was always an adrenaline rush before a battle, but this somehow felt different. He wasn't too concerned about the vampires because he and the others would have the advantage of surprise. They also had the dead man's blood and a lot of sharp knives. He couldn't really explain what the problem was. Or maybe he just didn't want to think about it.
He'd been on edge ever since seeing those kids the other day. The dreams bothered him and he remembered things he'd done all too clearly. But what did any of that matter now? He and Sam were adults and their dad was dead – he would never find out what Dean had done.
But he was determined that Sam could never find out about the things he still did; the way he sometimes unwound after a particularly stressful hunt. Dean wanted to keep all of it away from his brother.
---
Once everyone had assembled, Sam told them what he and Dean had seen inside. Brian went through what he knew again and the knives were all dipped in dead man's blood with an additional supply handed out to everyone. Containers of holy water were also passed out and another run through of the plan before they headed toward the building.
Once it was within sight, Dean felt his pulse quicken, but not in they way it normally did before engaging in a fight. He ignored it at first, but a sudden feeling that something was going to happen to his brother nearly brought on another panic attack.
"Sam," he hissed as he stopped walking. "Sammy!"
Only a few steps ahead, Sam heard him and turned around.
"Look, uh," Dean glanced around nervously. "You be careful in there. Do you hear me?"
He saw the look of confusion on Sam's face. "Of course I will. You okay?"
The others had gone on ahead and were nearly at the entrance. Sam glanced toward them, then turned back to Dean.
"Yeah," Dean lied. He could feel his heart rate quicken and he was struggling to breathe. He couldn't allow this to happen. He had to get control of himself so he could go into that warehouse. He wouldn't allow Sam to go in there without him and he couldn't be a danger to his brother or the other hunters.
"Dean," Sam reached out for him. "You don't look okay."
Dean shook his head. "Come on; let's go. Just be careful."
---
Sam wanted to keep Dean from going into the warehouse, but he knew he couldn't. He'd seen Dean nervous before a fight before, but never quite like this. He just hoped that his brother could control whatever he was feeling long enough to get the job done. Maybe if had just been the two of them he would have been able to talk him into coming back another time, or at least help him through whatever this was.
Dean pulled away from him and walked toward the warehouse, his stride long and purposeful. Sam followed close behind, determined to get them both out of this in one piece.
---
The hunters went in quietly and moved to separate areas of the warehouse. It was one large room with enough light coming in from the windows that they could see clearly. Luckily the place had been entirely cleaned out and they could see that there were over a dozen vampires sleeping on the floor. Some of them seemed to be in couples, sleeping together. There were only eight hunters and they had to strike fast and hard to avoid getting hurt or worse.
Despite the nearly even number of opponents and the element of surprise, vampires are still faster and stronger than humans. Eight vampires were killed immediately, but the noise alerted the others and a battle quickly ensued.
Dean had just decapitated a female vampire after narrowly avoiding being bitten and was paralyzed with horror when he saw that another had Sam up against a wall. Sam was struggling, but the vampire was close to overpowering him. Dean couldn't make himself move for what seemed like an eternity and no one else had noticed Sam's peril. Finally, Dean managed to free himself from his paralysis and he started to run forward; sure he would make it to Sam just a moment too late.
Greg heard the commotion behind him after finishing off the vampire he'd been battling and splashed holy water on the one holding Sam. The monster cried out in pain and turned his attention to his attacker. Dean got to his brother and dropped to the floor by his side as he slid down the wall. Dean held Sam's face in both hands, examining his injuries. There were bleeding scratches and his neck was already showing signs of bruising. From the corner of his eye, Dean saw the vampire's head roll past them.
---
Sam saw the anxious look in Dean's eyes and felt his hands shaking as they touched his face.
"I'm okay, Dean. I'm okay," Sam said, seeing that some of the others had already reached the door while Greg and Brian were splashing gasoline throughout the room. "We have to get out of here."
Dean seemed to be frozen in place, his hands still on Sam's face. Sam put his hands on Dean's and pulled them away. "Come on, man, we have to go."
"You guys okay?" Greg called from across the room.
Sam glanced at him. "Yeah. We'll be right there. Go ahead."
"Sammy?"
Sam turned back to his brother. "I'm here, Dean. And I'm okay. We have to get out here now, though, all right?"
"The vampires; they –"
"They're dead, Dean. We got them all," Sam said and managed to get to his knees. "You ready?"
Dean nodded, but Sam wasn't sure he'd really heard him. He stood up and pulled Dean to his feet. Keeping an arm around his shoulders, Sam led his brother to the door. The others were waiting for them, having already assessed their own injuries. One of the hunters Bobby had sent went back into the building as planned, to toss a match into the gasoline.
The group went back to where they'd left their vehicles and satisfied everyone's injuries were superficial, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Hunters knew it was always best to put as much distance between them and a kill as possible.
"How about I drive?" Sam suggested once they reached the Impala.
Without a word, Dean reached into his pocket for the keys and held them out. That action scared Sam more than the glassy look in his eyes or his silence. They got into the car and Sam headed in the general direction of North Carolina. Sam was surprised when he realized that Dean had fallen asleep and two hours later he pulled into a motel parking lot. He cleaned his face as best as he could before going inside to rent a room.
Dean woke up when Sam got back into the car and started the engine.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Saint James, Missouri. I got us a room. Oh, and I called Kristine and Bobby to let them know we were okay."
Once inside the room, Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. How about you?"
Dean ran a hand over his face. "I'm okay."
Sam sat on the other bed, facing his brother.
"Are you sure about that?"
Dean didn't respond and turned away.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower," Sam said, sighing to himself. He hoped giving Dean a few minutes alone would help him.
---
Dean heard the water in the shower start; he slipped out of his jacket and lay back on the bed. He was thankful the battle with the vampires had been successful for them, but he knew that his own performance could have been better. If it had just been the two of them, Sam likely would have died at the hands of the vampire that had pinned him to the wall. He was grateful that Greg had been there, but embarrassed that he'd had to take up the slack.
Somehow, he had to get control of the dreams and the memories that were causing them. But he had to do it without hurting Sam. Dean knew his brother already felt guilty about their mother's death, even though he'd only been six months old at the time. He also insisted he was responsible for Jessica's death because he'd had dreams about it for weeks, but did nothing to prevent it. No matter what Dean said, he couldn't make Sam understand that the demon had done those things and neither of them were Sam's fault.
He was lost in thought when Sam came out of the bathroom, but his brother's movement caught his attention. The scratches on his face looked much less painful now.
"Are you hungry?" Dean asked. "How about we get a pizza?"
"Yeah, sounds good."
Dean opened the phone book while Sam pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. After he called in the order, Dean took his own turn in the shower, but took a much longer time than Sam had. No matter how much soap he used, he didn't feel clean. When he finally rejoined Sam, the pizza box was sitting on one of the beds and Sam was at the table next to the window, cleaning their machetes.
A few minutes later they were stretched out on their beds, backs against the headboards and eating pizza while watching the evening news. Dean felt somewhat more comfortable, but only because of the familiar routine. That, and the lamp on the table between the beds blocked their view of the other one.
Buoyed by the comfort, Dean decided he didn't need to talk to Sam about how he'd been feeling before. He knew his brother must be curious, but since Dean was acting more normally, he hoped Sam would let it drop.
Having not gotten much sleep the day before, both brothers were tired and even though it was barely 9:00, they were both asleep soon after the last of the pizza was gone. Things had begun to feel more normal for Dean and he hoped that would continue the next day.
---
Sam's eyes opened the moment that the cry died on his brother's lips. He quickly made sure that the room was free of danger, then tossed the covers aside. Dean was sitting up in his bed and when Sam moved to his side, he could see the sweat on Dean's brow. Even though the lamp between the beds was turned off, the parking lot lights provided enough illumination for Sam to see his brother's skin was ashen.
Sam had read somewhere that everyone dreamed several times a night, but he couldn't remember Dean ever really talking about dreams. Sam was sure he'd never heard him cry out in his sleep before.
"Sorry," Dean said, clearly embarrassed at having awakened his brother.
"You all right?"
"I'm gonna hit the bathroom."
Sam watched as Dean made his way across the room. He hadn't been fooled when they went to bed. Sam knew that something was still bothering Dean, but he had looked so much more relaxed that he hadn't wanted to broach the subject.
Sam ran his hands over his hair and jumped when he heard glass breaking in the bathroom.
"Dean?" he called.
Hearing a muffled thump, Sam rushed to the closed door and knocked. "Hey, Dean? You okay?"
There was no response.
"I'm coming in," he said with his hand on the doorknob. "Speak now or –"
Hearing more thumping, Sam decided not to wait. Turning the knob, he was thankful to find that Dean hadn't locked the door; not that that would have been a problem. Sam pushed it open gently, not sure what he'd find on the other side. He saw that glass from the mirror littered the sink and the counter around it and Dean was sitting on the floor, knocking his head against the wall.
"Dean," Sam kept his voice low as he walked into the bathroom. He suspected there was glass on the floor as well and he made his way carefully until he was sitting across from his brother. He leaned forward and reached out with a long arm to put a hand on Dean's neck. He stopped hitting the wall, resting his head back against it instead, but kept his eyes closed. "You have got to talk to me, man. You're really starting to scare me."
Sam wasn't sure if it was his tone or his words, but Dean's eyes flew open and he looked at Sam. There was some strange mixture of love and ferocity to his features.
"Don't be scared, Sammy. Don't ever be scared when I'm around."
"Then talk to me, Dean."
"I….I can't."
"Why?" Sam whispered.
"I just can't, Sammy."
"You want to call Kristine?" Sam asked, almost afraid that Dean would say yes. He did everything he could to encourage their relationship, but Sam didn't want to be replaced. He knew that was a silly way to feel; his brother loved him. But still….
"I don't want to call Kristine," Dean said, still looking at Sam. "I trust you with my life, man, but I just can't talk to you about this yet."
"Yet," Sam repeated. "So you'll want to talk to me about it sometime?"
"Sam…."
"It's got to be pretty big because you've been dreaming and….I've never heard you yell out in your sleep before, Dean."
"What did I say?"
"Nothing, really. Just no."
Dean nodded, relief flooding his face.
Sam remembered the broken mirror and reached out for his brother's hands. Dean didn't resist as he inspected them for cuts. He could see enough to know that Dean's knuckles were probably not injured too badly.
"How about we at least go back to the other room?" he suggested.
Dean nodded and stood up.
"I'll be right out," Sam told him.
Once Dean was out of the bathroom, Sam turned on the light and cleaned up all of the glass he could find. When he went into the bedroom with a wet wash cloth and a towel, he found Dean sitting at the small table, his palms flat on top of it. Leaving the bathroom light on, Sam stood next to him and looked at his hands more closely. The knuckles on Dean's right hand were bleeding slightly and Sam laid the wet wash cloth on top of it. After a moment of hesitation, Dean wiped the blood away and dried his hands while Sam searched in the first aid kit for an antibiotic cream.
"It's not that bad," Dean insisted while Sam sat across from him and put the cream on the cuts. He insisted on wrapping Dean's hand loosely with gauze as well.
"Let's keep it that way," Sam said.
When Sam was done, Dean pulled his hand closer to his body, but flashed his brother an appreciative look. They sat in strangely comfortable silence for several minutes.
"Sam…."
The younger man waited.
"The other day when you were trying to find the body of that ghost so we could burn the bones and I went to the convenience store for some food….I saw a couple of kids there. A boy maybe 11 or 12 and a little girl who was probably his sister. They both looked like they'd seen better days, ya know? I gave the boy some money."
"Okay," Sam said, confused.
"It reminded me of us. You know, when we were kids and Dad left us to go off on a hunt?"
"He left us with Pastor Jim and Bobby a lot."
"Yeah, but not always."
"I remember."
"I don't know what their story was. I asked the boy if they'd run away from home and he said no. He said that they lived with their mom. I didn't ask for details; story probably wouldn't have been true anyway," Dean looked away. "Mine never was."
"What do you mean?"
"You know," Dean shrugged. Sam thought he was trying to look more nonchalant than he really felt. "Sometimes the money ran out before Dad got home and I had to hustle for more."
"Like that boy?"
Dean nodded, still turned away.
"Did that happen a lot? The money running out?"
Dean shook his head. "Dad was good about leaving more than we needed most of the time. I don't even know where he got from sometimes. I know he worked odd jobs when we were in a town long enough. And he's the one who taught me to play pool."
Sam smiled. "I know."
"Most of the time if a job ran longer than he thought it would, Dad got in touch with Pastor Jim or Bobby; sometimes Caleb, to come and get us. He did his best, Sammy."
Sam looked at his brother, confused. "I know he did."
He hadn't always felt like that, but things were always so much clearer in hindsight.
"Sometimes, though, his best wasn't good enough. He'd be gone too long or there wouldn't be enough money. Sometimes things happened, ya know?"
"Yeah." Truth was, Sam didn't know. There had always been food and there had always been money; so far as he knew anyway. He may have thought about it once or twice over the years, but Sam had always figured they were just very lucky. Now he wasn't so sure. "So what happened when the money ran out? You'd hustle people outside of stores?"
Dean nodded.
"Is that when you started to feel this way? After you saw those kids?"
"I guess."
"And you've been dreaming about –"
"Mostly stuff that doesn't make sense."
Sam didn't think his brother was telling him the truth about the dreams, but he wasn't going to push. If Dean was ready to talk, Sam wasn't going to take any chances of scaring him off. He waited quietly.
"I don't want you to feel bad about any of this, Sammy. You were so young and –"
"You know, Dean, sometimes I think you forget that you're only four years older than me."
He saw Dean smile briefly. "Yeah, you're right. I've always felt older than that."
"That's because you had to be. When Dad left us alone, you had to take care of both of us. Even if we were with Pastor Jim or someone else, you always looked out for me."
"That's my job," Dean said, a sad, crooked smile on his face.
"What are the dreams about, Dean?"
"I told you; things that don't make sense. I don't even really remember them clearly and I don't know why I called out before."
Sam waited again.
"Sometimes a person does things because he has to. He has to do them to survive."
"What kinds of things did you have to do?" Sam asked quietly as a knot formed in his stomach.
"Just things," Dean whispered. "The details aren't important. I just….I didn't always like what I had to do. But….but sometimes I did."
"Sometimes you did, what?" Sam asked, confused.
"Sometimes I liked it," Dean stood up and walked across the room. He stood at the window and stared out, looking almost like he was seeing into the past.
"Dean, I don't understand."
Dean moved to the edge of his bed. "I don't, either. Not really."
Sam was frustrated, but more, he was afraid. Afraid of what his brother, only four years older than himself, had been forced to do to take care of them when their father was gone. It's not like a 10 year old boy could have gotten a job, but Sam didn't remember not having food or supplies for school. He had always known that money was tight, but he couldn't think of a time when they had gone without the basic necessities.
But he did remember periods of time when Dean would leave him alone with strict instructions to keep the door locked and not to open it for anyone but him. Dean told him not to answer the phone unless it was Dad calling with his signal. But if their dad did call, Sam wasn't supposed to tell him that Dean had gone out.
Sam remembered some nights he'd wake up to find Dean gone. They had their own signal; Dean would put his favorite action figure in bed next to Sam and that meant he'd be back soon. Sam always wondered where Dean would go, but he had never asked him.
He looked across the room at his brother. Dean was on the edge of the bed, looking more than tired. He seemed worn out; defeated. Sam walked toward him and sat on his own bed.
"Dean, if you're scared to tell me what you did because you think it will affect our relationship, it won't."
Dean shook his head. "You can't say that, Sammy."
He leaned forward. "Yeah, I can. Dean, you're my brother. There's nothing you can tell me that will change that."
"You may want it to, though."
"Dean, come on, man. Whatever you did was to take care of us; to take care of me. How can that change how I feel about you?"
Sam watched as Dean seemed to struggle with his feelings. He hated that his brother was going through something that was so obviously painful for him and trying to do it alone. Sam knew if the tables were turned, Dean would be there for him.
Despite his aversion to anything emotional, Dean was always Sam's support when he was in trouble. After Jessica died, Dean would sit for hours with him, listening to him talk about her and what some of their plans had been. Sam would do anything for his brother; he just wished Dean would let him.
"Look, dude, you don't have to tell me what's going on," Sam said, leaning forward to be closer to Dean. "But I can promise you that nothing you tell me will change our relationship. We've been through too much together; we've meant too much to each other. And honestly, Dean, I thought you trusted me more than that."
Dean looked at him sharply, clearly having not considered that.
Sam crawled under the blankets on his bed. "See you in the morning."
---
Dean spent a long time thinking about what Sam had said and wasn't able to get back to sleep. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to Sam's breathing. He could tell that his brother wasn't asleep.
He knew how important trust was to Sam and it hadn't occurred to him that his brother would think that his not sharing would be from a lack of trust. When Dean didn't immediately refute that, it made him wonder if that wasn't at least a part of the reason he didn't feel comfortable telling Sam what was really going on in his head.
Of course that wasn't it, Dean decided. There was no one he trusted more than Sam. Even Kristine was a very distant second. Trust wasn't even a part of the equation. Or was it? Dean looked toward the window at the headlights of a car coming into the parking lot reflected off the mirrored closet doors. Glancing at the clock on the table between the beds he saw it was almost two in the morning.
"Sam?"
At first he didn't think his brother was going to answer, but then Dean heard him shift under the blanket. "Yeah?"
"The dreams….The nightmares are about things that happened when we were kids. Just bits and pieces, like I said before, but what I see is pretty vivid."
"Things you did to take care of us?"
Even though Dean couldn't see him in the mostly dark room, he could tell that Sam was treading carefully.
"Yeah."
"How often did the money run out?"
"I told you before; not that often. But things happened and we weren't always close enough to Pastor Jim or someone else for them to help. Sometimes I'd tell Dad that the money had run out, but I never told him what I really did to get more."
"You lied to Dad?" Sam asked, shock apparent in his voice.
"More like I didn't tell him everything," Dean said. He added quietly, "I couldn't."
"You can tell me," Sam said, his voice quiet. "You can tell me anything, Dean. There's nothing that will change us being brothers."
"I know that, Sammy."
"Do you? Because you said before –"
"I was wrong. I was being an ass and I'm sorry."
Sam was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's just….You've been having nightmares and the panic attacks. It just seems like –"
"Kristine thinks that's a sign that I do want to tell you. Or, at least that I need to."
"I think she's right, Dean."
Dean sat up and tossed the covers aside. Without a word he went to the bathroom and when he came out, Sam was sitting at the table with two bottles of beer that Dean knew must have come from the cooler in the Impala's trunk. He couldn't remember the last time they'd gotten beer – or ice – so he figured it was probably warm. Sam hadn't turned any lights on, but there was enough coming in through the partially open curtain that the room wasn't totally black.
Dean sat down across from him and took one of the bottles in his hands. It felt warm, as he suspected, but he didn't really care. He twisted off the top and took a long swallow.
"I'm sorry I've been weird about this," he said quietly.
"You don't have to apologize."
Dean took another drink from the bottle. "I never wanted you to know about this stuff, Sam. Not because I couldn't trust you, but…."
"It's okay, Dean. Just tell me. Give yourself some peace."
Dean laughed. "That's what Kristine said. Are you sure you two haven't talked?"
"Not about this. One of my favorite subjects in school was psychology, so Kristine and I talk about it. And I've read a lot of books that she's recommended to me." Sam shrugged. "I just find it interesting."
"I don't want you to feel bad or guilty about any of this. I know how you are."
Sam looked down at the table, then turned his attention back to his brother. "Just talk to me, man."
Dean took a deep breath, holding the beer bottle in both hands. Even though the room was mostly dark, Dean found he couldn't look in Sam's direction.
"It started accidentally," Dean finally began. "Dad was gone and we needed money for….we just needed money. I was going to steal what we needed, but I was afraid I'd get caught and the police would find out we were alone. On my way to the store I went through a park; it was a shortcut. Nice place to play during the day, but people played different games at night."
"How old were you?"
"Around eleven."
"What did you do?" Sam asked quietly.
"A guy offered me 20 bucks to jack him off."
Sam didn't say anything and after a moment, Dean looked at him. He couldn't see the details of Sam's expression, but he could tell that his brother's posture hadn't changed.
"You did it?" Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I had to. I didn't know how else to get the money. I called Dad at the number he kept for messages, but a really long time went by and he didn't call back. I was afraid something happened to him. Pastor Jim was out of town and I couldn't find anyone else. I had to do it."
"What did we need money for? Dad didn't leave enough for food or –"
"Sammy, it doesn't matter. We just needed the money, okay?"
"Why?" Sam asked again. His voice was more forceful, but thick with emotion.
Dean didn't want to answer, but he knew if he didn't, Sam would fill in the blanks for himself. "You were really sick and I needed to buy medicine."
Sam sat back in his chair. "Were you scared?"
"Terrified."
"Was that the only time?"
"No," Dean whispered. "At first, I only did it when we ran out of money or needed something Dad hadn't thought about. Then I realized I could do it so Dad wouldn't have to leave so much. He never asked why there was left over when he got back. In those days, he was still so freaked out by everything he saw on a hunt that he didn't think about much when he got home."
Dean was quiet to let what he'd said had time to sink in. He felt a change in Sam, but he didn't think Sam was judging him. He suspected instead that Sam was just trying to put all the pieces together.
"Sometimes I woke up at night and you were gone…."
"I put Batman in your hand while you were sleeping so you'd know I'd be back. Remember I told you that?"
"Yeah. It was our signal. You told me that Batman would protect me while you were out and that I shouldn't be afraid."
Dean nodded, more to himself than to Sam. "And I was never gone more than an hour or two."
"Did….Did any of the men ever hurt you, or...?"
"Sam…." Dean whispered.
"Tell me," Sam said, his voice pleading.
"Once. I should have been faster than him. I should have been stronger. He –"
"You were just a kid, Dean."
"Not then."
"What do you mean?"
"I was 20. I couldn't always find a place to hustle pool or play cards, but I could always find a place where men were willing to pay me."
Sam said nothing.
"He was old," Dean continued a moment later. Now that he'd started the story he felt like he had to finish it; like he wanted to finish it. This was what most of the nightmares had been about, after all. "Well, compared to a 20 year old anyway. He said he wanted a blow job and he led me to this place in the woods. He was fat and slow – it wasn't a very long walk, but he was out of breath when we got there."
"There?"
"He had this whole….I don't know, camp, I guess, set up. There was even a little tent. I should have been able to get away from him, but…."
"But what?" Sam asked after a moment.
Dean saw flashes of what had happened and couldn't make himself speak. Even though his eyes were closed, he could still see the man and the place he'd set up in the woods.
"Dean?"
"He….He offered me something to drink. Shit, I didn't remember that until now. Bottled water. Oh God," Dean said, suddenly feeling sick. "He must have drugged it. That's how he got me down; how he tied me up."
"He tied you up?" Sam asked, his voice shaking.
"I didn't remember waking up. I never remembered how he got the upper hand …." Dean stopped talking, lost in his memory. A moment later he heard Sam's voice gently calling his name. He took a draw from the beer bottle and continued. "I woke up. I was tied to a tree and there was a gag in my mouth. I tried to yell, but I couldn't. Aw, shit."
"Dean? Talk to me. Tell me."
"Not tied," he said. "Handcuffed. I couldn't fight him, Sammy. I tried, but I couldn't. And he….he…."
Dean couldn't say it. Everything that had happened was so clear to him now, but he couldn't use the word. After a moment, he looked toward Sam. His brother was now leaning forward, his arms resting on the table, sitting as close to Dean as he could manage without touching him.
"You told me you got into a fight at the bar," Sam whispered.
"You remember?"
He saw Sam nod. "Dad was gone; I had to study for exams and you went out. I wanted to help clean you up, but you wouldn't let me."
Dean remembered that. He'd gotten back to the apartment their dad had rented and Sam was still at the kitchen table studying. He should have been in bed a couple of hours before. Dean hadn't intended to be gone so long, but he hadn't known what was going to happen to him.
Sam had jumped out of the chair when he saw his brother and wanted to make sure he was all right. Dean could still remember shying away from his brother's hands; pretending he hurt worse than he did so that Sam wouldn't try to touch him again. He still remembered feeling sick and just needing to be left alone. It hadn't been easy to get away from Sam, but Dean had managed to do it without scaring him. He'd made up the story about the fight on his way home and when he was sure Sam believed him, he'd escaped into the privacy of the bathroom after telling Sam to go to bed.
He remembered not being able to make the water hot enough to get the man's stink off of him. Dean could still feel the man's hands as he'd forcefully tugged at Dean's pants. He'd cowered in a corner of the shower as the water beat down on him, wanting to scream, but knowing he couldn't.
Dean had used all of the hot water and still hadn't felt clean. When he finally came out of the bathroom, Sam was in bed, but not asleep. Dean still remembered the look of worry on his face and he pushed aside his own pain to make sure that Sammy was all right. That's how he still got through being hurt. He put Sam first; he worried about Sam. If he had something else to concentrate on, he didn't have to think about himself.
He looked at his brother now and even in the dimness of the room, he saw the same look of worry.
"I'm sorry, Dean."
"It's not your fault, Sam. Nothing that happened was your fault."
"I….I can still be sorry about what happened to you."
"I don't want you to be sorry, Sam. I just….I just need you to understand and…."
"And what, Dean?" Sam whispered.
"Be my brother."
"I am your brother, Dean. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing you've done; nothing you'll do. Nothing will change that."
Dean desperately needed to believe him. He leaned forward, elbows on the table and his head resting in his hands. He flinched when Sam lightly touched his arm, but he didn't pull away.
TBC