Chapter Four: Silent Lucidity
Dean climbed up the stairs in search of his brother. Lunch was ready but Sam hadn't made an appearance for a few hours- not since Bobby had given him the chocolate bar- and Dean wondered where his brother could be hiding.
Peering into the room he shared with his brother, Dean knew he wouldn't find Sam but he checked anyway, even going so far as to open the closet and peer underneath the beds.
Dean's stomach growled impatiently but he ignored it. Stepping out into the hallway, he tried to think of where his brother could be.
"Sammy?" Dean called quietly.
"Sam?" he said his brother's name once again and although he wasn't answered, he heard a shifting sound from over his head. Looking up, Dean nearly kicked himself as his gaze landed on the pull-string dangling down from the closed ladder that led up to the attic.
Stretching, Dean grabbed the rope that dangled down and pulled until the wooden ladder unfolded before him. The eldest Winchester glanced over his shoulder for a moment before sighing and climbing the steps, hoping that his brother was up in the attic (and wishing that he wasn't).
Poking his head up cautiously, Dean squinted across the attic, seeing nothing but dusty cardboard boxes and a couple of old steamer trunks.
"Sammy?" Dean called, his voice carrying across the stale, humid attic.
Dean paused and listened for a response, any response and frowned when he heard nothing. Sam couldn't have gone outside, could he? Dean wondered and was just about to leave when he heard a shuffling sound on the far side of the room.
"Sam? You up here?" Dean called, slightly louder than before and pulled himself up to stand on the dust-coated wooden boards that made up the attic's floor.
Dean listened carefully and frowned when a small whimper drifted across the muggy attic air towards him.
"Sammy? Where are you, buddy?" Dean asked and crept forward. Glancing down he could make out the scuff marks of socks on the dust-covered floorboards and followed the trail to the far end of the room.
Sam was curled up against the wall, his legs pressed against his chest and his face buried against his knees.
"What are you doing up here?" Dean asked quietly but Sam flinched as if he had shouted the question.
"Hey," Dean cooed, "Hey, its okay. I'm not mad, I was just worried."
Sam didn't move as Dean approached. The older teen crouched down and he saw the abandoned candy bar lying on the dusty floor.
Picking up the chocolate, Dean frowned when he saw it was coated in dust.
"You don't want this?" Dean asked, holding the treat out to his brother.
Sam, still refusing to look at his brother, shook his head. His arms tightened around his knees and he muttered something into his jeans.
"What? I can't hear you, Sammy," Dean said quickly and reached out to ruffle his brother's hair.
Dean didn't like how tense his brother was when he touched him. The boy seeming to be made out of stone and Dean quickly lowered his hand.
"Bobby's made us lunch if you want some," Dean tried, speaking encouragingly.
Sam shook his head. Dean sighed. Sam had to eat something or else he'd get sick. The kid was already for too thin for Dean's liking and he'd be damned if he just sat back and watched his brother wither away.
"Okay," Dean stood as if he was about to leave but instead bent down and grabbed his sibling under the arms.
Sam gasped and began flailing, kicking out his legs and punching at the air.
"No! Let me go! Please! I'm sorry!" Sam screamed high-pitched and Dean swore under his breath. He tightened his grip and tried to reassure his brother that nothing was wrong.
"It's alright, Sammy. It's okay; I'm not going to hurt you."
"No! No! Please, I'll be good! I promise!" Sam was deaf to Dean's assurances. The older boy carefully maneuvered the two of them towards the attic's entrance.
Dean knew he couldn't hold onto his brother and go down the ladder at the same time so he was hoping that Sam would calm down enough before they reached it.
Sam had tears running down his face and he was shaking with fear but Dean didn't stop to think about it. He wasn't going to hurt his brother and he needed Sam to realize that.
Once they had reached the attic exit, Dean set his brother down on his feet. Dean decided that Sam should go first so that he wouldn't be tempted to run away into the attic again.
"Bobby made us hotdogs, Sam," Dean told his brother over the sound of Sam's crying, "Can't you smell them?"
Dean's stomach gurgled at the scent of hotdogs and Kraft Dinner wafting into the attic space and he hoped Sam would be tempted by the food to go down on his own.
Sam ducked his head and nodded.
"Think you can get down by yourself?" Dean asked, knowing that Sam would be able to.
"Yes," Sam whimpered and Dean's throat tightened with emotion.
"Sam-" Dean began, wanting to say something that would make his brother stop crying, that would make the kid smile at him like he used to, but the younger boy ducked his head even lower and began to climb down the wooden ladder.
The older brother wiped a hand down his face. Bobby was going to be pissed when he found out what Dean had done. So much for taking it slow, Dean thought and peered down to see his brother had finished his descent and was standing to one side, waiting for him.
At least he didn't run off again, Dean decided that he might have gotten somewhere with his brother and began his own climb down from the attic.
As soon as Dean's feet touched the hardwood he knew he'd made a mistake. Looking around, he swore when he saw that Sam was nowhere in sight.
Running his hand through his short-cropped hair, the oldest Winchester folded the ladder back up, not even bothering to wait until it settled into place before he was stomping down the stairs.
"Sam!" Dean called, trying to keep anger from his voice. To be honest, he wans't angry- couldn't be angry with his brother, not when he was like this- but frustrated that everything seemed like it was one step forward and two steps back.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted again and grimaced when he heard Bobby curse from the kitchen.
"What're ya trying to do? Wake the whole damn neighbourhood?" Bobby stuck his grizzled head out the kitchen doorway and narrowed his eyes at the young man.
"Did you see Sam come down here?" Dean asked, trying not to sound too worried.
"What've you done now?" the veteran hunter asked suspiciously.
Dean glanced at the floor guiltily, "I, uh, might have scared Sammy."
"Jesus Dean! What did I tell you?!" Bobby growled and stepped towards the younger man.
"I'm sorry! Sam was up in the attic, I was afraid he'd get dehydrated," Dean claimed, his explanation not entirely false.
"Idjit," Bobby growled and turned to head back into the kitchen. Dean made to follow the older man but nearly walked into him instead.
Dean peered around Bobby's shoulder and saw Sam sitting at the kitchen table.
The youngest Winchester stared wide-eyed at his friend and brother nervously.
"Hey Sammy," Dean greeted and smiled.
Bobby shook his head and entered the kitchen.
Sam visibly stiffened as the older man walked into the room but he didn't leave the room.
"You want some lunch, son?" Bobby asked and Sam nodded hesitantly.
Dean sat down across from his brother.
"What's wrong with you? Are yer legs broke?" Bobby's voice startled the eldest Winchester and Dean sighed.
Once Dean and Bobby set the table the younger man sat back down and smiled at his brother.
Sam had watched the two older men work without saying a word. He wasn't sure if he should offer to help. Neither Bobby nor Dean asked him so he kept quiet.
Dean scooped several spoonfuls of Kraft Dinner into the bowl in front of his brother and Sam muttered his thanks.
"Do you want a hotdog, kiddo?" Dean asked, hoping Sam would eat. He was far too thin. Sam shook his head, hunched his shoulders and began shoveling the macaroni into his mouth.
Dean watched his brother for a moment, noting the speed at which Sam was eating but decided not to call him out on it.
Instead, Dean pretended as if nothing was wrong. He helped himself to Kraft Dinner, squirted some ketchup into it began eating as well.
Bobby took a hotdog, slathered it with relish and mustard and played dumb as well.
The small family ate in silence, no one daring to speak.
Sam finished his lunch first. He set his fork down on his napkin and stared down at the empty bowl.
"You want some more, Sammy?" Dean asked in a kindly tone but his brother shook his head.
"You sure? There's a lot of macaroni left," Dean tried, "Or you can have a hotdog."
Again Sam shook his head.
Dean glanced at Bobby and the older man just shrugged.
Although both of them would have liked to see Sam eat more, neither wanted to force him to.
W
Bobby insisted that he could take care of the dishes when Dean tried to help him.
"I'm fine," he assured the younger man, "You go with your brother."
Dean nodded although he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do with Sam. After being excused from the table, the younger boy had gone into the den and sat on the end of the couch with his knees pulled up to his chin.
"Hey Sammy," Dean greeted as he entered the living room. Sam didn't even look up.
"You want to watch some TV?" he asked but the boy didn't reply.
Dean sat down on the opposite end of the couch and grabbed the television remote control.
Turning on the TV, Dean flicked through the channels, "You want to watch ThunderCats?"
Normally if Dean had suggested watching a cartoon like that, Sam would groan and roll his eyes, tell his brother that it was a baby show but the younger boy only shrugged.
Since ThunderCats was no longer on the air, Dean settled for a documentary about lions.
Close enough, he thought and stretched out so that he could be more comfortable. He watched, slightly bored as a lioness played with her twin cubs, her actions narrated by some old British guy who seemed to always be in these type of shows.
Dean couldn't help but smile slightly as he watched from the corner of his eye as Sam leaned forward, chin resting on his knees.
Little steps, Dean thought, take things slowly, like Bobby said.
SPN
John never let Sam watch TV.
Even when his father was gone, Sam never turned on the television, sure that somehow John would know he'd done so when he returned and punish him for it.
It had been so long since Sam had watched television that he would chance getting in trouble. Besides, Dean had been the one to suggest they watch it, right?
Maybe it was a trick though. Maybe Dean wanted to see if Sam would do something that was forbidden just because his big brother had said it was okay.
Sam slid off the couch and onto the floor, scooting around the corner of the couch and put his hands over his ears.
Why would Dean hurt you? A voice in Sam's head asked, he's your brother. He's the one who found you after Dad died.
Taking a deep breath, Sam peered around the couch. Dean remained where he was but he had a worried expression on his face.
Dean cares about you. If he didn't he wouldn't have come to get you from Delaware, the voice continued. Sam had never noticed before but it sounded like a woman's voice, like the voice he imagined as his mother's.
Carefully, as if he expected Dean to fly into a rage, Sam climbed back up onto the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest.
Dean didn't say anything and Sam felt relief wash over him.
Turning to the TV screen, Sam continued to watch the documentary, his mother's voice assuring him that nothing bad was going to happen to him.
Author's Note:
1. Chapter title comes from a Queensryche song of the same name.
2. Thanks to Samstruck, sarah, reannablue, AlxM, SPN Mum, BranchSuper, L.A.H.H, Sparkiebunny, mandancie, Jeanny, ishouldbesleepingitslike4am and scootersmom for reviewing.
3. Thanks to everyone who favourited, alerted or is following.
4. Please leave a review!