Summary: Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a garden variety ghost when a drunk driver derails their plans and may just change their lives forever. Sam suffers a debilitating injury and Dean is left to pick up the pieces. **Be warned there may be spoilers** There be cusing here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I gain nothing from this story but the pure enjoyment of putting this idea out there. I don't have any power over the show, it's wonderful characters, or franchise and take no gratuity in return.
Chapter Six:
It was on a long stretch of seemingly unending freeway when Sam started to freak out. Sure, Dean had noticed the occasional tussle from his brother as the kid was immersed in one vigorous dream after another, thanks to stress and pain killers, but this was different. Sam really seemed to be struggling, violently tossing and turning. Thrashing about in the poor Impala like a dying fish out of water. They had just passed a little, nothing trucker town by the name of Biggs and were close to both the Washington and Idaho borders.
The road leading perpendicularly in either direction. A large, fierce river separated the tip of Washington from the northern edge of Oregon and was paired with a nauseatingly straight roadway heading dead east. With in a few hours they would be kissing the outskirts of Idaho's boarder, once again engraining in an elevated speed limit, the need to pump their own gas, and the ever annoying task of paying sales tax. Soon, Oregon would be nothing more than a bad memory. Both men hoped to be pulling into Bobby's dingy little junk yard sooner rather than later. A place, for the foreseeable future, they would be calling home. Although at first glance it was rundown and un-kept, in reality, it was a sanctuary of safety the seasoned hunter had quite efficiently made his own.
At first, Dean thought his sibling was having a vision, but then, he changed his mind as Sam began to struggle erratically. Whispers of Cold Oakes escaping his cracked lips as he muttered unintelligently under his breath with terrifying persistence. The whole scenario caused Dean's throat to clench at the stagnant air caught in the back of his dry throat. This was not a vision, this was something different, something more profound. It had been years since Cold Oaks, or Sam having any visions for that matter, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why his little brother would be dreaming about it now.
Once Sam started screaming "DEAN!" at the top of his lungs, he knew he had to find a place to pull over. Dean had to wake his brother up before he hurt himself or the Impala. As luck would have it, there was stretch of pavement set aside for emergency stops and as quickly as traffic would allow, he made his way to the shoulder. Although it was getting late, the freeway was littered with impatient drivers accelerating at ridiculous speeds, completely unfazed by the classic beauty only inches from them. To say it made the black cars owner nervous was an understatement.
Resting a firm hand on Sam's rigid left shoulder, Dean attempted pull his brother from his terrifying nightmare. If Sam managed to break the window and further delay their journey by adding the search for a repair shop to their agenda, Dean, was pretty sure he'd loose it. Not to mention the fact the that the kid couldn't afford another smack to the head. God only knew what would happen then.
"Sam." Dean shook his trembling little brother. Sam didn't stir, instead, he started fighting the loose hold, causing Dean to panic even further.
"Sam, come on, man, wake the hell up!" Dean tried again twisting sideways and grasping his sibling's other arm.
Was this a Seizure? Dean thought to himself amongst the dread. Would they have to find a freaking hospital, out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere!? Would Sam suffer more brain damage? Loose his ability to speak, hear, walk? Oh hell no!
"Sam, Sammy. For God's sake, Sam, wake the hell up!" Dean's grip intensified and become as rigid, if not more so, than his baby brother's unwavering muscles.
One final try was all Dean was going to give it, and then he was whipping out his cell phone and dialing 911.
"Sam, Sammy, dammit! Sammy snap out of it!" His voice raw with fear and unbridled panic there was no moister left to help aid the words.
Dean shook his little brother with every ounce of strength he still retained. It was at that moment that Sam's eyes snapped open. a look of utter devastation broadcasting his extremely expressive features. There was a deep sadness there, lingering. If Dean didn't know better he'd have thought somebody just told the kid his puppy died.
A tentative, shaking hand reached forward and searched the crevasses of Dean's scruffy face. Gently, long wandering fingers studied his skin, tracing the stubbled chin, feeling the distinctive features of broad cheekbones, and finally resting on the crest of short, damp hair.
Strangely, Sam's fingers were ice cold. The touch sent an unsuspecting shiver, laced with frigid electricity, down Dean's spine. It was like nine thousand degrees outside. How the hell did Sam get so fucking cold?
"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice shaky and unsure. Was this real? Was he still dreaming?
"Yeah, Sammy. You with me dude? You were freaking out pretty good there for a minute." Dean's eyes filled with worry as he saw a single tear silently slip down the younger man's tanned cheek.
Sam nodded, quickly wiped the salty assailant away with a deflated swipe.
"Where…um…where are we, Dean?"
"We just passed this little crap town called Biggs." Dean smirked. "Nothing but gas stations and a really big truck stop."
"Are we still in Oregon?"
"Yeah. Just at the border of Washington and not too far from Idaho. Sales tax here we come."
Sam shook his head and twisted uncomfortably in his seat. He took a deep breath and tried, desperately, to get his frayed emotions under control.
"I think we need to check into the guy that hit me, Dean. I think something's going on."
Dean practically jumped at the thought. They'd argued about it earlier. Dean going after the guy, punching him in the balls for blinding his little brother. Making sure he never took anything stronger then an antacid for the rest of his pitiful life. But Sam, being the humanitarian he was, had vetoed it, saying all he really wanted was to get as far away from Oregon as possible.
He'd tried to explain to his overprotective brother that what he desired was to get back on the road and put some more miles on the Impala. He needed to leave this most recent "happy" memory of Oregon behind with the last, and try to get on with his life. He didn't want it to consume him like it had before. So, much to Dean's dismay, he'd left it alone and concentrated on getting his brother back to Bobby's as quickly as possible.
"Yeah man, definitely." Dean stated overly excited. "I could turn around right now if you want and give that bastard a piece of my mind, or a bullet hole. Totally up to you, dude."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean hunt the guy down Dean. I had a dream." Sam winced. "Well, actually, I'm not so sure it was a dream." He shook his head. "It was different."
"A vision?"
"No…I…ah, I could see Dean."
"In your dream?"
"It wasn't a dream really, it was…weird. I was at Cold Oaks and…this girl. This creepy girl was there. She said she died there, just like me and all the others but that she didn't crossover. Apparently her ability was to bring people back to life, but she couldn't do it for herself." Sam faced his brother as best he could, fear and dread lacing the soft sorrow dripping from his brilliant hazel eyes.
"She said she can't bring people back to life anymore but she can hold their souls. Collect them. Keep them imprisoned. Stuck. And because you made the deal to bring me back to life, she feels snubbed. And really really pissed."
"Oooookaaay." Dean drawled. "So you have a psychotic ghost after you, big shocker there Sammy, you're like a giant magnet for those kinds of things, but what does that have to do with the drunk that rammed you? The Oregon coast is nowhere near Cold Oaks, man. I'm not getting the connection."
Sam winced at Dean's placating tone.
"She said she can't leave the ghost town, but she can reach out to her family. Her family, Dean!" Sam proclaimed, hands flared in expression. "And me too, apparently. I'm guessing if more of us had survived she would've fucked with them as well."
"So what, she possessed the guy? I mean, okay nothing's impossible in our lives, Sammy, but how would she even know you were there? And why this guy? What's he got to do with her? I don't get the fine details, man. Am I missing something?"
"I don't know all the details, Dean. She really wasn't up for an interview." Sam let out a long, frustrated sigh. "But she did say that guy was her dad. She was pretty cocky about pointing out she could give family members a nudge if she wanted to."
"Her Dad!?" Dean asked, his tone unsure. Well that complicated things!
Sam shrugged his shoulders.
"Maybe she felt me or something because I was close to her father or in her home town. Some kind of psychic radar thing. I don't know, man! You have to understand I'm still trying to get over the fact that I wasn't awake when this was going on. I thought I got my sight back." Sam's voice became quiet, deflated. "I thought I could see again, Dean. I'm still reeling from that alone. Plus she didn't really go into a lot of detail you know. I think I was pissing her off cause I kept asking what she'd done with you. I knew there was no way in hell you would've left me asleep in the Impala in the middle of nowhere. Especially considering my current condition." Sam waved a hand in front of his face to further illustrate his point.
Dean's heart clenched at the realization that Sam had thought he'd regained his sight only to be plunged back into darkness when he came too. No wonder the kid had looked like somebody stole his puppy when he'd awoken.
"Well that would explain why you're ice cold in the middle of a damn heat wave, Sam. You almost sent me into cardiac arrest when you touched my face."
Sam smiled. "Sorry about that, I didn't even realize. I just needed to know it was really you talking to me. You know? I needed to ground myself."
Sam shook his head in defeat. "This whole things so fucked up, I can't even think straight."
Dean didn't speak, just placed a comforting hand on his brother's tense shoulder.
"I'll tell you what, Dean, it was like finding out I was blind all over again. Seeing her face, the Impala, the damn countryside!" He took a deep breath. "Then waking up to this blindness. I really don't think I could handle it if she invites me for another slumber party. We need to take care of her before she has another chance."
"Another chance?" Dean questioned quickly. "The bitch threatened to get inside your head, again?"
Sam slowly nodded. "Yeah, she said she'd see me again. Find me. She wants revenge Dean. She wants me to suffer like she has. She even had the gall to tell me I'd pay for living. That's why we need to research her dad. Maybe we can reason with her!? Get her to crossover and quite screwing around with peoples souls. Get her to let them go so they can rest. Not to mention staying the hell out of my head!"
"Reason with one of those psycho demon kids, Sam?" Dean let out a strangled snort. "I don't know about that one. Dead or alive that's gonna be a challenge."
Sam glared in his brother's general direction, missing his target and hitting the side window.
"I'm one of those psycho demon kids, Dean. I'd hate to think what you really think of me then!"
"Damn it, Sam! You know what I mean!"
Dean took his pointer finger and circled his ear.
"You're not a cracker short of a box, a crayon shy of a rainbow." Dean chuckled the image to much to ignore.
"You've got to admit there were a few loose cannons in that bunch. I'm talking about them, dude, the crazy ones. Nuts, Sammy, bonkers. Add in the fact that she's an angry spirit and you've got a pretty giant shit hole to wade through. Besides the only way WE could do that is if we went back to Cold Oaks, and I gotta tell ya, little brother, that place doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."
Dean heard a snort ricochet from the back of his brother's throat. "And it does for me, Dean?"
Sam sneered giving his best sarcastic frown in retort.
"But, I gotta tell ya, man, if it's that or she keeps tormenting me in my sleep, I'll take option number one any day. I already have enough problems with out some dead girl fucking with me when I'm asleep."
Dean shook his head and sat back against the sticky drivers seat. Why the hell couldn't they catch a break for once? Sam was already blind, for God's sake. Add in the fact that neither one of them ever wanted step foot in Cold Oaks again and they had a real disaster on their hands.
The prospect of having to go back there made them feel like they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even without their current problems, it would have made the brothers sick to their stomachs. Like a carton of milk that had been left on the counter for three days and put back in the fridge waiting for an unsuspecting victim.
And now! Now, they might have to go fry a lunatic ghost in the middle of nowhere with one of them at half capacity at best. Dean didn't want to admit it, but Sam was far from ready to take on a simple salt and burn, let alone a freakin angry spirit haunting the place where he'd been tortured and killed.
Life just plain blew!
"Okay." Dean's voice filled the mounting void. "We'll look into it when we get back to Bobby's." He knew there was no way Sam would take no for an answer.
Damn Winchester pride, Dean thought, with a shake of his head.
"But Sam we're not going anywhere or doing anything until you get some real rest. You have a serious injury and you need to chill out for a few days. Give yourself a chance to start those classes Vicky was talking about so you can handle things on your own. Then we'll talk about Cold Oaks."
There was a pause as dry silence hung in the air.
"Deal?"
Sam closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat. Like I really have a choice.
Sam could feel a nice little headache building at the base of his spine and creeping upwards towards his temples leaving him with no energy to combat his brother's silent protests. That along with a throbbing goose egg protruding from the base of his tender skull were constant reminders of his recent deficit.
He knew he wouldn't win and figured he should pick his battles. Besides, if he fought Dean now, it'd just make the rest of their car ride a nightmare and that was the last thing Sam needed at the moment. He was sore, tired, and ready to snap at the first opportunity and really didn't need Dean pissed at him on top of everything else. Besides, Sam knew his brother was right. He just didn't want to admit it.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. Sweat pooled at the base of his hairline leaving a salty warm mess on his fingertips. He knew he was going to need another dose of pain killers in the very near future to stave off the mariachi band that had taken up residence inside his pounding scull, but the thought of falling asleep and seeing that shady figure taunting him again, kept him from asking.
"Okay." Sam finally answered deflated. He was know resigned to his new place in their relationship.
Sam was no longer an equal, he was a hindrance, a liability. He had to be monitored and babysat, coddled. Why fight it when it'd be like biting the hand that fed you? Or, rather in his case, drove you and delved out your pain meds.
Dean could sense his brother's inner turmoil. Anybody that looked at the kid could see it. He was a mess.
All Dean had ever wanted, was protect his little brother. It had been ingrained in him at a very young age, and he took it extremely seriously, but this was something he couldn't shield him from. Dean prayed that Sam would get his sight back sooner rather than later, but also knew that Winchester luck wasn't the kind that threw winning lottery tickets in your lap. This situation was probably no different. All he could do for the kid right now, was keep him calm and try not to step on his independence too much. Although, as Vicky had said, it was going to be challenge. Even more so now that Dean knew some dead bitch was after his incapacitated kid brother.
Man the Winchesters must have tortured small puppies in a past life or something just as heinous; to end up with all the crap they were put up with in their lives. Which cosmic being's wife did they screw, anyway? Dean was immersed in thought as he checked his mirrors to see if he could slip back into traffic. A second later, the key was turned in the ignition and the Impala's heavy engine roared to life with his gentle touch.
Sam was still cradling his neck as Dean prepared to pull into traffic. It was then, realization dawned, the kid hadn't had any of his pain meds in quite. He had to be in agony.
"You need something, before we get back on the road Sammy? I don't think we're close to any major towns right now and you could try and catch some more Z's while I put some miles between us and Oregon."
Sam shook his head. "I should, Dean, but I don't want to go to sleep. I'm not sure what's worse; staying in pain or going to sleep and seeing again just to wake up and find out it was all a damn dream, or vision, or whatever in the hell this is."
Dean could sense a heavy veil of depression pushing down on them and he wanted to avoid it if at all possible. All they needed was to be brought even further down then they already were. You could cut the thick, murky air in the car with a knife as it was.
"Well, man, as I see it you really only have two choices."
Dean stuck his pointer finger in the air to indicate the first option.
"One: You don't take the med's, fall asleep anyway, but sleep like shit regardless of whether princess show's up or not."
He threw another finger into the mix.
"Or two: You take the damn pain killers and at least get rid of the pain. It's up to you which option you like better. But if it was me I'd take the pills and at least eliminate one of your mmeeeeennnnnniiiieee, problems."
Sam couldn't help himself and began to smile. His goofy big brother always could make him laugh at the most inopportune times. Dean had done it on several occasions when Sam had broken his ribs just to get a snicker and cause him unneeded pain. All for Dean's own sick twisted pleasure. Especially when his older sibling was bored. That's when things got a lot worse.
"You are a real ass Dean, you know that, right?"
"Well, aware, Sammy. Well aware. So how about it? Option one or option two? What's your pleasure?"
"One." Sam answered clutching his neck a little tighter. The pain had recently multiplied. His little mariachi band had expanded into a full on symphony of off key guitarists, screeching tone deaf operates, and uncoordinated drummers.
"I figured you'd go that route." Dean displayed a large, goofy grin. "That vein that pop's out of your forehead every time you're irritated is trying to jump over to the driver's seat and strangle me. It looks like Quado out of total recall. Only in your head instead of your stomach."
Dean already had his hand in the backseat fishing for Sam's prescriptions as he ragged on his passenger. He snagged the paper bag and pulled it to the front. Sam could hear the crinkling of the paper and the rattling of small solid masses hitting a hollow plastic wall, as his brother searched for the correct drug.
"You want the Tylenol three's or the Percacet?"
"Tylenol's good, man, thanks."
Dean placed the tiny white tablets in his brother's sweaty palm. "Nighty, night Sammy. And pleasant dreams, princess."
"Sam."
"What?" Dean questioned, setting a water bottle in Sam's other hand.
"It's Sam, douche bag. Not Sammy."
Dean smirked at his baby brother's annoyance. "You are such a girl." He glanced back at the line of traffic once again.
"You ready to head out or do you need another minute?" Dean asked, his hand gripping the warm shell of the steering wheel with impatient vigor.
Sam gave a small smile and let a wave of lukewarm water drizzle down his parched throat. It wasn't cold and it wasn't the freshest water he'd ever drunk but at the moment it was doing the job. At least his throat didn't feel like the Sierra desert anymore. That was a subtle plus.
"I'm ready whenever, Dean." Sam sighed and closed his eyes trying to focus on the warm sensation of relief the painkillers would provide once they took hold.
Sam could feel a bout of uncontrolled, renegade anger welling up inside him just waiting for the opportunity to erupt and wanted to start moving before he did something he regretted.
"It's not like I have to worry about staying awake or keeping my eyes on the road now do I? I'm just along for the ride like one of this drop kick dogs you always see next to the box of tissue in old people's cars. Not like you're gonna need me to stay on alert or take over the drive, so, really, what does it matter?"
Dean cringed at his brother's dark statement, but pushed it aside as he was already worried enough about Sam and figured trying to tackle the issue would just be a waste of time. If Sam wanted to pout verbally, who was he to stop him? After all, the kid was blind, Dean, couldn't fault him for being a little pissed off about it. As a matter of fact after what had just happened he was surprised Sam hadn't bolted from the car and tried to hitch a ride to Cold Oaks. Blindness or not.
"OOOkaay." Dean said checking for an opening in the oncoming traffic hoping to deflect his brothers irritation and drop it right there.
A second later the sleek black beast slipped into the onslaught of weary travelers. Once again, the Winchester brothers were on their way to South Dakota. If Sam hadn't been injured, it would have taken no time at all for them to make it to Bobby's, but Sam's doctor had warned against trying to make the drive all in one shot.
The doctor had been gentle, but firm, in informing both Dean and Bobby of Sam's fragile condition. Making sure to press upon them the dangers of an injury such as his and the subsequent complications which could follow if he weren't properly taken care of. If they were careful, Sam would be ok, aside from his blindness. If things were rushed, however, allowing Sam to be overtaxed, he would have no chance of sneaking past further complications. He needed to rest and stay calm. The injury was a precarious one. If not taken seriously, it could cause even more damage then it already had, sometimes weeks down the line. The last thing any of them wanted was for this accident to rob Sam of something else. He had enough to deal with in his life without that.
"The last thing Sam needs right now, the doctor urged, is to be cramped in a car for hours on end all the way across the country. He's going to need rest and proper meals. If he doesn't get enough sleep and nourishment he could develop debilitating migraines or illness. Sam's immune system is depleted do to his traumatic brain injury and being over tired could lead to more problems then any of you need right now. His immune system is working overtime to fix the damage already done, just make him take it easy, stop and rest frequently, and it will be better for everyone."
The problem with that was Dean knew he'd be stuck in a small confined space with an angry, pissed off little brother and he wasn't looking forward to that one bit. Yes, the trip would have been intense, long, and nauseating, him driving all the way with hardly any sleep and no backup driver, but it wasn't like he hadn't done it before. Not having to spend days with Sam picking fights would have been nice, but unfortunately, the doc vetoed that the moment he'd opened his mouth.
Oh well, Dean thought, as the man finished speaking. At least he could go get a beer or something and let Sam sulk in private. Dam doctors and their rational thinking.
*********************************************
A few hours later, Sam's hand rested on the crook of his neck, the car lurked forward picking up speed with the addition of a new speed limit. He'd been trying to doze off but kept waking himself, panic keeping him from really using the medication to his advantage. He could feel the uneven timbre of the roadway and although he wouldn't admit it, he was more than ready for a proper bed. Even if it was a lumpy, rock hard, thin as paper, motel mattress used and abused by millions of people each night. The car was a comfort zone for him, sure, but truth be told, all he really wanted right now was to slip off into a dreamless, medically induced coma and stay there until somebody found him a way out of his current predicament. Especially after God knows how many hours with his legs were cramped up in the impala's passenger seat begging to be stretched out.
Sam silently prayed Dean would soon be getting tired and start searching for a suitably cheap motel on the side of the freeway. Preferably one close to a McDonalds or Burger king as Sam's stomach was starting a complimentary encore of Riverdance with no sign of an intermission. That way he wouldn't have to admit just how shitty he felt and put another ding in his already shredded armor of pride.
Dean glanced over at Sam after his little brother's stomach growled for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. The kid was trying to hide it, but he knew him far too well for that. Angry stomach growls echoed throughout the car like raging thunder and made it nearly impossible to ignore even with the music turned up. The older brother could see the pain interwoven in his younger sibling's creased forehead and mentally did the math, realizing that neither of them had eaten in over eight hours. Which, for Dean, was like an eternity. Truth be told he was starting to feel the unmistakable clench of acid rising in his own empty gut as it joined in the chorus of hunger.
It was apparent that Sam was trying to fight the effects of the sedative pain pills because each time the younger Winchester's head would dip from the pull of sleep, he'd violently shake it, his hair falling in all directions and jerk his neck back up to attention. If they didn't stop soon Dean was afraid Sam would give himself whiplash. The thought made him chuckle lowly. Only his brother could get whiplash from falling asleep.
"You know, Sam, whether you want to admit it or not you're going to have to sleep at some point. That bitch didn't bug you at the hospital and we're out of Oregon now, so hopefully, she won't stop by for a visit if you take a nap. You look like shit man, even the dark circles under your eyes have dark circles."
Sam instinctively opened his eyes and did his best to glare at his brother. It was going to take Dean quite awhile to get used to his brother's expressive eyes looking through him, instead of at him.
"I'm fine, Dean." Sam retorted, nowhere near convincingly.
Tale tell Sammy signs of self denial, Dean refused to give up, even if it did lead to another tongue lashing from his obstinate baby brother.
"That's bullshit and you know it, little brother. I've had to turn the radio up twice because your stomach keeps interrupting my music and you've almost given yourself whiplash about thirty freaking times trying to stay awake. Fine my ass."
Dean caught the silhouette of an exit sign gleaming in the illumination of the headlights and decided now would be the right time to pull off. The large green square, a reflective towering statuette of salvation offering well used beds and greasy fast food. Two things they both needed desperately.
"You look like shit and I know we're both hungry. There's a turnoff two exits up with a twenty four hour truck stop right next to a Motel 6. We're stopping, eating, and crashing. No arguments, got it!"
Licking his dry lips and adjusting his numb limbs, Sam nodded. A truck stop? He thought. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to have to drag his crumpled body into an arena full of people to watch him struggle with his new disability. Maybe when he was a little less tired and more able to hide his exhaustion, but not now! Sam was truly and utterly done, he had nothing left.
"Don't they have a Burger King or Taco Bell or something, I really don't want to have to go into a restaurant right now?" It came out more like a whine then a request and at the moment Sam didn't care.
Dean steered the large black car into a parking space smack dab in the middle of the restaurant and the dingy motels designated parking area. He quickly surveyed the surrounding terrain and then spoke.
"Fraid not Sammy, at least not close, we're on the outskirts of a town. I'm going to go get us a room and then we're gonna grab something to eat. There's nobody inside the restaurant so it won't take long, then we'll crash for a little while before hitting the road again."
"Can't you just get a room and grab me something to go, Dean, I don't feel like going anywhere except bed right now."
Dean took a minute to consider his brother's request. The kid did look beat. Well more like somebody'd drug him under a semi truck for a good 30 miles, but beat worked, he guessed.
"Ok, fine, but you're eating what I get you, understand. No damn complaining if your dainty little fru fru meal isn't up to your standards, got it dude?"
Sam gave a weakened smile and laid his head back against the seat.
"Whatever, Dude. Just as long as it doesn't give me a heart attach then I'm fine with it, no complaining, I promise."
"That'd be a first." Dean taunted pulling the latch on his door handle.
"You gonna be ok out here by yourself while I go get the room. You wanna come with me?"
Sam rolled his eyes and gave an extremely annoyed expression in retort.
"I'm not two Dean. I won't wait for you to leave and try to stick my fingers in the power outlets. I'm blind, man, not a helpless idiot. I think I can handle sitting out in the car for a few minutes by myself."
Dean shook his head. He wouldn't admit it, but hearing his brother call himself blind burned yet another hole into his already annihilated soul. Quickly recovering his composure he punched Sam square in the shoulder.
"Could have fooled me man, I'm always pulling your ass out of disasters as it is. Now be a good little brother and sit tight."
Dean patted Sam's head and barely escaped an angry thrust of a balled fist heading straight for his jaw.
"Knock that shit off Dean. Go get the damn room, jerk."
Dean laughed and pushed the heavy metal door shut.
"Bitch." He smirked walking towards the tiny, cream colored office.
It only took a few minutes to register the two of them as Dean and Sam Dartin from Illinois. Surprisingly enough, the tiny, bleach blond woman, worn down from late nights and heavy smoking, handed him two key cards instead of their usual dingy, rusted room keys which more often than not accompanied their various stays. Dean had made the comment that they were coming up in the world, but it slipped right over her head. Deciding the silence hanging in the air was as good a time to leave as any, he told her thank you and left the small office.
As Dean made his way back to the car, he noticed Sam had finally fallen asleep. His dark brown hair plastered to the side of his face. His mouth slightly parted with a small snore escaping his strained vocal cords.
"Perfect." Dean smirked to himself as he approached the car.
"God, Sammy." Dean commented opening the driver side door. "You spend hours struggling to stay awake and just when you need to be awake you pass out. You've got some timing little brother."
The one sided conversation of Dean Winchester didn't seem to affect his brother one bit. As a matter of fact, all it did manage to do was make the younger man's snoring more pronounced and annoying.
Dean decided that his best course of action would be to drive the Impala closer to their room as there was a parking space right in front of the door and make it easier on himself when he tried to rouse his comatose brother. Even the rumble of the giant engine went unnoticed by the sleeping passenger. So much for hunter reflexes on this one, Sam was out.
Once the oldest Winchester was satisfied with his parking job, he went to work unloading the car. It took him a good ten minutes to unlock the door and pull out everything they would need for the next few hours. The pang of hunger that now permanently resided in his gut was really starting to make itself known and Dean was more than ready to subdue it. The only thing standing, or rather sitting, in his way was a 6 foot 4 inch giant snoring in his passenger seat.
There was no way in hell, Dean, would be able to carry his enormous brother into the room so, as much as he hated to, he was going to have to wake him up. Sam was usually a fairly light sleeper but considering he was sailing on the winds of pain killers, a brain injury, and sleep deprivation Dean wasn't looking forward to waking him. Not to mention the fact that he would have to wake the sleeping man up gently since he couldn't see. The last thing Dean needed right now was to get punched in the nose or stabbed because Sam thought he was a demon.
**********************
Sam felt the gentle grasp on his arm only when it was accompanied by a much harder swaying motion, his senses trying to acclimate as his body was jostled about. The comfortable veil of sleep he'd found himself enjoying only seconds earlier was being interrupted by this annoying and uninvited intrusion. He wanted nothing more than to make it stop, but couldn't, as his limbs seemed to be encased in mud and no longer in his cognitive control.
As awareness slowly returned to his taxed mind, he realized he wasn't on the tip of a beach surrounded by beautiful women in skimpy bikinis but rather crammed into the front seat of his brother's prized Impala.
With an automatic grunt, Sam wrinkled his nose and pushed the warm, sweaty palm from his bicep. Amazed he was once again able to control his body, he opened his eyes and momentarily panicked at the dark cloud that surround his vision. Almost within the same breath, Sam remembered his blindness and pushed his irrational panic to the back of his mind.
"Dean, what the hell, you trying to make me seasick?" Sam grumbled wiping a hand over his aching forehead.
"Oh shut up, Samantha, it was either shake the crap out of you so you'd get the hell up and walk into the motel room or leave you out here while I slept in a real bed. Personally," Dean shrugged leaning his shoulder against the back of the bench seat, "the second option was fine with me, but I thought if Bobby found out he'd kill me, so I'm waking your lazy ass up. I can't be held responsible if you pick the stupidest times to nod off. I sure as hell ain't gonna carry your ass inside, that's for damn sure."
Dean's snarky comment caused Sam to snicker. Even in the dullest of times his brother could find an appropriately smart ass comment to lighten the mood.
"You really are an ass. You know that, right Dean?"
Dean smiled and gave his brother a lighthearted shove.
"I do what I can, the rest is just good genes. Now come on man, everything's inside. I'll show you where everything is, then go grab some food, cause I'm freakin starving and you need something to eat. If you don't those pain pills will eat you alive. Not to mention you're as white as a sheet."
"Yeah ok." Sam said, his right hand fumbling for the latch to open the door.
"Roll my window up, Sammy, I don't want some skanky road rat stealing my car."
Sam's fingers hit the handle and instantly started to roll up the window in an intricate dance of machine and flesh he could perform in his sleep. Then he continued searching for the door handle and gave a small sigh of relief when he found it. The headache he'd woken up too was now a raging inferno and all he wanted was a quick bite, a cold glass of water, a large pain pill, and a soft pillow.
"I'll sure be glad when these headaches settle down." Sam cringed, forcing his stiff body out of the car and stretching his cramped limbs.
"The doc said it might be awhile, man, so you need to take it easy." Dean's voice now resonated from somewhere off to Sam's right and was filled with weary concern.
"Yeah, I know, I'm just tired is all. So point me in the right direction and go get us some food you big jack ass."
Dean shook his head and grabbed his brother's left arm. "Nice try Sam, now come on, the doors straight ahead."
Mid step, just as he was about to alert Sam to the six inch curb ahead of them, Dean stopped, causing his lengthy brother to falter.
"Where's your cane Sam?" There was a distinct tone of annoyance and parental indigence lingering in Dean's words.
"I'm not going to be walking a mile am I? Just get me to the door Dean. It's not like oxygen, I don't have to have it with me at all times."
"Wrong little brother." Dean retorted patting Sam on the shoulder. Before he could protest, Dean had walked the few steps back to the Impala. With a little more force then necessary he stuck his key in the door and quickly turned it as the mechanism snapped unlocking the latch.
"Where'd you leave it Sam, do you remember?"
Sam rolled his eyes. What was he five? If he didn't want to use the dam thing then he… Dean stopped him mid thought.
"Found it! Nice try sticking it under the seat, man, but I'm a hunter, remember? I find things for a living."
"Yeah you're a regular search dog." Sam grumbled, barley audible.
Sam could hear the angry footsteps of his brother's heavy black shoes as he came back towards his stranded sibling. With a windy, agitated sigh Dean was once again at his side. This time with the dreaded beckon of Sam's new disability resting heavily in his palm.
"Use this thing Sammy or I swear I'll drive you out into the middle of nowhere and leave your stupid ass there." Dean reprimanded grabbing Sam's right hand and slapping the annoying metal object inside with both compassion and infuriation.
"Deeean." Sam began to complain, but was quickly shut down.
"Don't Dean me, Sam. You'll use it, end of freakin story." Dean was really getting tired of having to deal with his brother's childish behavior. He was hungry, beat, and frustrated and the last thing he needed to put up with right now was a whiny, baby brother. Especially a 26 year old version.
Sam crumpled his forehead and allowed his mouth to gape in protest, but decided he'd much rather be in bed then fight so he didn't utter a word. He knew the only way he was going to get there was with his pig headed, overprotective, pain in the ass big brother's help. As much as he hated to admit it, at the moment, he was virtually helpless.
Quietly Sam slipped the bindings off the cane and gave it a gentle shake. Like a metal fountain, the moonlit pieces fell into place and transformed into the long white cane that now adorned his darkened world. It only took moments for the two men to reach the door of room 25, and even less time for Dean to whip out a credit card sized key.
Sam waited for the distinct sound of metal connecting with metal but was disappointed when he, instead, heard some low curse words escaping his brother's mouth as something, plastic?, scraped the surface of the door.
"What the hell is wrong with these things, I mean really. Come on! For God's sake. Dean spouted trying to get the annoying piece of plastic to unlock their door. Who the hell thought making a credit card into a damn key was such a good idea?"
Sam smiled and reached up to find his brother's hand. It wasn't hard to locate as Dean was now trying to jam the card into the thin slit adorning the lockbox above the latch. It sounded like the poor thing would snap at any moment.
"Let me have it, Dean."
Dean gave his brother a curious look which was lost on him and grunted something unintelligible.
"What the hell for, you can't see anything. What are you gonna do with it?"
"No but if you tell me where the little arrow is on the card I'm pretty sure I can get it to open. I think they let blind people stay here too, not just sighted ones." For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun Sam sported a truly genuine grin. His dimples shadowed by the moonlight.
There was a huff of warm air thrust directly into Sam's ear and he shook his head in response. Just a second later the hard plastic square was thrust into his free hand. Sam felt Dean's rough fingers as they guided his own to the tip of the card.
"The arrows here, pointing down."
Sam stroked the straight edge of the sweaty plastic and located the point Dean had indicated. Next to the spot was a set of bumps, which Sam deduced was braille.
"Thanks." Sam stated tucking his cane under his armpit, freeing his other hand.
Gently, he reached for the locking box, found the point to insert the card, and smoothly slid it in. Seconds later he heard a click followed by a beep and tried the handle below. The door opened with ease and a blanket of cool air flooded his delicate senses.
Dean chuckled behind him. "The blind leading the blind, huh?"
Sam smiled.
"No Dean, I just have a little more finesse than you do. I don't punch first and ask questions later. The next time you want to take your aggressions out I suggest you do it on a demon or a monster, rather than some poor motel room door. Might get you better results in the long run."
"Whatever dude." Dean chuckled.
He was more than glad to have the cool air flowing over his beat body and was even happier that Sam was inside so he could go get some food. If he waited any longer his frickin stomach was never going to forgive him. And by the sounds his baby brother's gut was making his wasn't the only one.
"Ok Sammy; Dean said once again taking his brother's arm. "I've put the bags on the table to your right."
Dean pulled his brother inside and directed his attention to the small side table. He patted the surface, allowing Sam's fingers to run over the objects for a moment then he continued.
"Your bags here." He placed Sam's hand on the heavy material.
"There's a TV here." Another touch and placement of unsteady fingers. "And to our left there's your bed and mine." Dean kicked the end of the bed. "I put you closest to the bathroom so you don't have to trip over anything to get to it. This is a pretty small room so you shouldn't get into too much trouble."
Sam was guided to the back of the long rectangular room and his hand was placed on a cool door knob. There was a click as the air conditioner turned over, forcing more cool air into the dingy little room.
"The bathroom's in here, do you want me to show you around, or do you think you can figure it out on your own?"
"I think I've been in enough motel bathrooms to know the basics, Dean. Just go get the food and leave me to it, ok?"
"Ok. I've already salted the doors and windows so everything's secure. You need anything before I go?"
Sam's long limbs fumbled as he back tracked his steps and found his bed. Leaning forwards he used his left hand to trace the familiar contour of the motel's comforter and eased his way to the headboard. Gently, Sam kicked the edge of the nightstand and proceeded to fold up his cane. Then once it was bound and contained he ran his sweaty palm over the worn, bumpy surface of the end table and laid the device on top it.
"Go Dean, I'm fine, just get me some water with lots of ice and something to eat already. If you keep asking me if I'm ok we'll be here, starving, all damn night."
Dean smiled at his little brother's comment. He knew this must be devasting for the youngest Winchester and couldn't even come close to imagining what he was feeling at that moment, beyond the general malice and fear his new condition brought him. Each time Dean saw his brother struggle to acclimate to his surroundings it tore his heart out. There was no way he would stop looking until he found a way to fix this. No way in hell! And anybody that got in his way would have to pay a hefty price.
"Ok, man, I'm going, just don't have any parties while I'm out, got it."
Sam stuck his thumb in the air and then crossed his muscular chest.
"I promise, dad. No parties. Scouts honor. Just don't beat the door up when you come back. You never know if the place is haunted, it just might take offense."
"Yeah like I'd let a motel beat me, Sammy." Dean pretended to be offended. "Really man, I thought you knew me better than that."
As Dean pulled the door open he spared one last look in his brother's direction. The kid's eyes might be open, but he could tell nobody was home. Sam was practically catatonic. Dean would be lucky to make it to the sidewalk before Sam was in dreamland.
"See ya in a few, Sammy. Be back soon."
Sam settled into the bed, his shoes and jeans already discarded by the edge of the bed.
"Sam, Dean. My name's Sam." He slurred closing his eyes and settling into the pillow he'd shoved under his pounding skull.
Dean snickered. "What ever Sammy. Have a nice nap."
Dean closed the heavy door and waited for the soft click of the lock before heading towards the diner's glowing neon sign.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean wasn't kidding when he'd told Sam the place was empty. There were only two people in the entire establishment and neither of them were customers. A tired looking waitress with a black apron, blue restaurant t-shirt sporting the name 'Blondie's truck stop', and a messy bundle of unruly brown hair, sat at the bar with her back to the entrance. She was reading a greasy newspaper and speaking to a tall, slender man with a hair net who rested his large hands on the blue marble counter. The guy, a cook, Dean deduced, wore a white t-shirt and a large white apron decorated in a rainbow of various foods.
The place was a typical truck stop diner. The interior of the dingy little establishment was adorned with well used metal tables decorated with half filled ketchup and mustard bottles, corded telephones dirtied by pudgy fingers, and containers filled with sugar and sweetener packets. Its chairs housed in metal frames with ripped vinyl cushions and uneven round feet.
Inside, it was shockingly bright, to keep people from falling asleep in their pea soup, Dean assumed. Its four walls decorated with pictures of varying sizes. Obviously for sale, the white price tags hanging nonchalantly from thick edges. Each print sporting a different image ranging from random scenery or painted animals to various objects. Some real, some made up and cosmic. Pictures of horses and tigers straddling the moon and stars. Things he'd seen displayed on Sammy's notebooks when he was just a kid back in the eighties.
As Dean made it through the large glass door, his presence was announced by a bell hanging above his head.
The waitress, surprisingly younger than Dean had originally thought set her paper down and stood up. She sported a soft, brilliant smile and engaging round curves, which had been concealed from view earlier on. Her dark, chestnut locks escaping her messy bun. Dean could feel his heart race as he took in her hidden beauty. Apparently she got that a lot as the cook, moved closer and leaned intimidatingly against the bar she had just vacated.
"One." She asked making her way towards him, a menu clutched in her small fingers.
It took Dean a minute to recover his voice. He took an extra second to gather his thoughts, as well as his libido. The girl didn't have a wedding ring on. Perfect!
With a cocky smile he spoke. "I, ah, actually just need to get a couple of things to go, mind if I take a quick look at your menu?" Man, Dean thought, if he wasn't so tired and Sam wasn't hurt, he'd be pulling out all the stops. He'd be half way to the stock room by the time her cook could blink.
"Name's Mindy, just let me know when you're ready, ok?" The girl patted one of the swiveling stools connected to the bar and set a glass of ice water down in front of her new customer.
"Thanks." Dean smiled taking the seat. "I, ah, I know what I want, but my brother's a little more picky. Eats like a girl." Dean gave a cautious smirk. "No offense."
Mindy pulled a strand of loosened hair from her eyes. "None taken." She pulled a coffee pot from the back burner of the maker. "You want any coffee or anything while you look that over?"
"Ah, no thanks. I don't think adding coffee to my brain right now would be too good of a choice. My brother and I have been driving for hours and have a long way to go. I don't want to confuse my body and make it try to stay awake when it's so damn tired."
"I understand that one." Mindy said smiling. "If I didn't have five more hours in this place I wouldn't be drinking this." She pulled a cup from under the counter and poured more of the steaming brown liquid into it.
"So, where are you and your brother headed?"
"South Dakota. We have an uncle there that we're going to spend some time with."
"That's sweet. Gonna keep him company for a while?"
"Actually he's, ah, he's kinda doing us a favor. My brother was in a pretty bad accident back in Oregon and we need a place to crash for awhile until he recovers."
"Oh I'm sorry to hear that, is he going to be ok?" She sported a sad smile, her bright, teal eyes shining in the fluorescent lighting above.
"He will be, he's got a ways to go, but yeah, one way or another he will be. Unfortunately Sammy can't see right now, though, so that's a challenge. No relief driver to pick up the slack."
Dean didn't have a clue why he was talking to this girl, telling her his life's story, but at the moment, his mouth wouldn't shut the hell up.
"Wow." Mindy stated taking a drink of her coffee. "I gather he can't see because of the accident?"
"Yeah. Sam hit his head and when he came to the lights were off."
"That's terrible, how old is he? Older, younger than yourself?"
Dean gave a small smile. "He's my younger brother, by four years. He's 26."
Mindy nodded and looked up as the bell to the door rung announcing a new customer. Two men with pot bellies, dirty flannel shirts, greasy ball caps, and withered skin walked inside.
"Howdy Mindy, see you're still on graveyard?" The bigger of the two greeted, taking a seat at a table by the window.
Mindy smiled at Dean and moved from behind the counter. "You know me, hate the sunlight since I turn to dust when it hits me."
The man smiled and slapped his buddy on the back. "You are to pretty to be hustling tips from losers like us, kiddo, you really should be kicking that boss' ass of yours for putting you on this shift again."
Mindy grabbed two menus and walked over to the table.
"Oh now, Bob, if I did that you wouldn't have anything to look forward to when you pass through town." She switched her glance to the man who'd been silent. "So Mark, still hanging out with this troublemaker I see. I thought we'd talked about that?"
The second man's twisted faced suddenly lightened as a bright smile overtook his wrinkled features. With a grumble, he spoke. "Can't seem to ditch him, so you have any of that rot gut coffee back there you could load me up on?"
"Of course I do." She motioned to Bob. "You want some too there trouble?"
A smiled decorated the man's face. "How the hell else am I supposed to stay awake and make it across the state by morning."
Mindy shook her head and walked back towards Dean. "Two of my regulars." She stated moving towards the pot of coffee. She quickly made her way back to the two men and filled their personal thermoses full of dark, tar like liquid. Then after taking their orders she came back over and stood to the side of the bar where she could see the men and Dean.
"Have you decided?" She asked Dean as she removed a pen and order book from her pocket.
"Yeah, I want a double bacon cheeseburger with onions, a large side of fries, and a slice of apple pie." Mindy nodded as she wrote on her tablet. "And my brother will have a club sandwich no pickles on wheat with a side of potato salad." Dean shook his head. Sam was such a girl. He was embarrassed just to have to order the damn thing. "Oh yeah and a large ice water, lot's of ice. I'll just have a beer while I wait."
"No problem. What kind of beer do you want? We have Coors, Budweiser, and a microbrew called Summer Solstice, it's an amber ale."
"I'll do the summer thing, thanks." He winked at her as she turned to put his order in and grab a chilled glass from the cooler.
"I'm a little surprised you guys sell beer in here, figured it would have been all nonalcoholic stuff."
Mindy came from around the corner with a cold bottle in her hand.
"Yeah well, we're not nun's and priest's around here. We get a lot of tired truckers, vacationers, and all around tourist's that pass through and figured it would be a smart idea to have a little something for everybody.
"Nice thought." Dean said nodded his approval as the cool amber beer slipped down his parched throat.
******************************************
It only took ten minutes for the food to be prepared and schlept into styrofoam to go containers and by that time a few more tables had made their way into the restaurant. No longer able to give Dean her full attention, Mindy was dropping off drinks, taking orders, and setting plates of food down in front of her hungry customers. She pulled another strand of hair out of her eyes and shoved the brother's to go food into a large, plastic bag.
"Here you go stranger. I hope that brother of yours starts to feel better soon. I'm sorry to hear about the blindness."
Dean cringed at the word 'Blindness' but recovered quickly.
"Thanks Mindy, and the name's Dean by the way. Don't work to hard. Wouldn't want to stop by here our next time through and not see your pretty face."
Rolling her eyes, Mindy shook her head. "Typical man." She snorted. "Have a good night Dean, hope everything works out for you two."
"It will, thanks."
Dean gave his most appealing smile as he left. No need to close the door completely with the girl, one never knew when he might be back through. Besides, he just couldn't help himself, she was a hottie, even under all that bacon grease and jelly smattered on her little apron. The swivel of her small hips alone was more than enough reason for him to make a lasting impression. Just in case.
Mindy watched as the vastly attractive young man she'd been flirting with for the past thirty minutes got up and walked out of the diner. His tight muscles tensing as he stood, his strikingly brilliant jade eyes catching the harsh lighting above and shining playfully. She didn't get many men that good looking in the little hellhole, but when she did her heart did flip flops. She may be working the graveyard shift, because her boss was an incredible asshole, but every now and then it did have its perks. If his brother was anything like himself, she was sure she would have been on hormonal overload with the two of them in her care. Giving her head a quick shake, she reoriented herself and got her mind out of the gutter it had been heading for since the handsome stranger had walked in. She had customers and they weren't going to feed themselves.
A/N: Ok so I know what you're thinking. I fell off the face of the earth, or Aliens abducted me and took me to a planet without internet service, but alas it was all me. I had this chapter done eons ago but kept putting off the editing. Luckily I know have a wonderful beta and she has done a fabulous job!! Thank you my friend for taking on such an daunting task. Cheers to Marlana!! I hope that everybody is happy with this latest update and that you're all still with me, I know it's been months since the last one was posted, but I hope the length of this chapter will, at least make up for it in some fashion. Thank you to everybody that reviews it literally makes my day to get a note that there's a review and I save everyone. Have a wonderful week, Nicole. :)