-1Rescue Me

Chapter 7

Sam's eyes fly open and he swallows repeatedly letting his eyes meet his brothers as tears begin to fall from them…. Confusion consuming him..

And without a word spoken between them Dean knows, he knows that Sam knows now what he's done, how bad of a person he is, and the tremors return to his flesh, the terror to his eyes, as he studies the younger man's face and can see only disappointment found there….

Sam takes a minute trying to grasp what he has just seen in his head, from the looks of it, his brother shot their father, killing him instantly with a double gunshot wound to the chest… But that couldn't be… Dean would do no such thing, John meant the world to him, he was half of his whole reason for living, there is no way it went down like that.

"I don't understand…." He accidentally let the words slip from his mouth to his brother's ears and he watched as Dean's head once again became the center to channel his pain, his breathing became so ragged as he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, that it was like harsh moans screaming from his lip.

Quickly he drops to his knees, breaking the gaze between the two brothers…. He begins rocking his hands in his hair pulling at it, it was obvious to Sam now that he was trying to free himself of the memories…..

It was like he was having some sort of heart attack almost as he dropped the rest of the way so his but was on the porch and without a seconds notice he began to slam his entire body back into the wall of the house concentrating most his strength on making sure his skull hit the wood harder each time….

Sam was paralyzed for a moment as he watched this unfolding, he knew what he had seen in his head, it was so real it was like he had been there, in the room, he knew that the shots fired in their father's direction were from Dean's hand…. But with the scene unfolding in front of him, with his brother in such a state, he also knew there was no way he had done it consciously, there was no way in hell he had murdered their father… There had to b4e some sort of an explanation for everything didn't there?

It was until he heard the loud thumping of his brother's body against the old house that he found his mind clear almost instantly and his limbs able to move again, he could tell by how broken… how crazy his brother was acting that a trigger had been set off in Dean's mind somewhere and he knew now that Sam knew what he had done.

The pain in his eyes, the anger and the horror were all so pure that this fit could have been brought on by nothing else…. Sam dropped to his own knees next to the nearly seizing form, the sounds of his brother's erratic, panicked, Shallow breaths creating a eerie soundtrack to the whole moment.

"Shhhhh…." he swallowed down a few gulps of air his own world swimming as he tried to bring his head back on straight, Gently he grasped Dean's hands in his and pulled him away from the house and toward Sam….

"I kno-" He cleared his throat….. "I know you didn't do what you think you did, there has to be answers for this… and we are going to find them…."

Dean's head was throbbing now, his vision blurred as Sam watched his pupils dance for a minute to the rhythm of his tired, loud, shaky breaths. It was like his body weighed two tons as he looked down at his hands and willed himself to pull them away, but it was just to hard… everything was just two hard, as he looked at his brothers face through blurred eyes….

Sammy, he had done so wrong by his baby brother, that nothing would ever be right again no matter what they did…. Sammy, his Sammy, was never going to forgive him… Even now as he studied the look of compassion and sadness in those deep brown orbs staring back at him, he knew that under the surface…. Sitting there waiting for the right moment, was the anger, the disgust and the hatred… How could it not be?

If Sam had seen what Dean knew he had, then all those feelings had to be there somewhere, there was no time for logic here, because there was no logic to be found. He had killed there father and Sam had seen it, right here in this house…. Right here… he had looked into his eyes and watched as the bullet ripped into his chest before holding his dying body during his last few breaths….

Sam's forehead creased with a frown as he watched Dean's expression change deeper into terror, it was as though he were watching him be eaten alive right there, his hand's still being held…..

The younger Winchester brother watched as Dean's face contorted, his adam's apple fighting for every single in take of breath, as his eye lids drooped to a close…

The images, the memories, teasing and taunting his tortured mind now more then ever, what had he done? He was a sick, sick bastard and he deserved to be punished for what he had done, he deserved to die…. He deserved to…. His self scolding was interrupted by the feeling of hot tears working there way down his cheeks from his eyes …. He had no right to cry, no right to feel tears, this was his fault, he caused it…..

Then his brother's thumb against his cheek wiping them away…. It was shaking just as his own hands were, but Sam's touch was always more gentle than Dean's he was just simply a more gentle person, he cared more about those sort of emotions….

"I'll save you…." Sam's arms were warmer than they had ever been, his embrace tight as Dean felt strong arms embracing him, truly….. Whole-heartedly holding him….

Like he had longed to be held since the moment this whole mess had begun, like he had held their father's body in his own arm's waiting for him to pass…..

But why…. Why was he doing this?

Feeling the body in his hold stiffen a little, Sam didn't know what else to do other than grip tighter to it, so he did, he held his brother as tight as he could, wishing that somehow his strength, his courage and anything else Dean needed right now would simply be fed to him through there embrace.

Exhaling and attempting to even out his breathing , as he tried to stop them, more tears came, more and more sorrow filled his body, spilling over into his eyes and finally unable to hold on any longer, Sam's hug was returned,….

Like the grip of life he felt his brother's arms slide around him, and this of course made tears begin to spill from Sam's eyes as well and he nodded to himself, he knew that this would be a moment neither one of them would speak of again, assuming that was that Dean would ever speak again….

But he also knew that this was a break through, into a world he had not yet been able to travel, it was a crack in the gateway to his brothers insides, to rescuing his soul and saving him….

His shirt was quickly becoming wet and Sam knew he was near the edge….

Sam looked up toward the front door to the house that still remained open, What was he going to find in there???? What was hidden behind this broke down exterior? There had to be answers somewhere, and he was going to find them.

However, he looked down at the man still weeping in his grasp and sighed softly, now…. Was not the time.

"Let's go back to the hotel now okay?" His words were gentle without frustration, without anger, or dismay…

He rose to his feet and leaned down gripping Dean around his upper arm and pulling him up onto unsteady feet… He watched as with each step Dean's head snapped back looking toward the Wilcox mansion…. With each step his body language growing a little more lax.

- It took more than eight hours for Sam to get Dean relaxed enough to rest, the clock now reading quarter to midnight as Sam sat on his bed and opened his lap top….

"Wilcox…. Wilcox…" He mumbled to himself pulling up goggle search engine and typing in Wilcox Murder Maine .

He scanned quickly through the many links that popped up reading the small description paragraphs, every now and then looking up at his brother, checking on him, every few minutes.

Murder stuns town.

Orono Maine, 13th December 1979.

Early Sunday morning authorities arrived on the scene of the most brutal crime this city has scene in many years, finding the body of billionaire Charles Wilcox sprawled out across his own living room floor, Dead… due to a double gunshot wound to the chest…..

Officer Ken Carver, the first to arrive on the scene, later told reporters, that the body was found laying in a deliberately vulgar position, legs spread wide, head cocked to the left hands resting around his genitals….

Charles son, and heir to the Wilcox fortune, Edward Wilcox was found huddled in the corner of the back bedroom, the gun still tight in his grasp, the blood of his father still drenching his body….

The murder of the wealthiest entrepreneur this side of Hollywood comes as a shock to all who knew the kind hearted man, and even more shocking is the pure fact that his death was at the hands of his own son…

Edward is being held without bail, and the police are still at this tme waiting for a full confession about the events that took place.

-R.E. Cummings.

Sam felt the air escape him as he stared at the page in front of him on the computer screen, not believing what he was seeing….

It couldn't be could it?

He clicked out of the first article and quickly opened another, then another, then another… All of them saying basically the same thing,

Charles was murdered by Edward, his son…. And the police were now holding the son in custody, no leads as to what had lead to the "seemingly sweet" young man to kill his father.

Answers, Sam couldn't help but smile to himself rubbing his chin, Finally answers, this had to mean something didn't it? A lead….

He decided to look further into the case before him, see if there had been any more deaths in that place since December of seventy nine, and sure enough, over the last two decades…. Ten people had died, and ten more were charged with their murders, none of the accused able to give any explanation as to why they had done what they had done….

All remembering what had taken place, but none of them able to give a reason for it…. A 12 year old boy and his father had gotten a flat tire only a mile or so up the road from the house in 1989, and had walked there to see if by chance someone was there who could help change the tire…. Or call for the police…. And the next morning, Dad was dead, and Son was being lead away in hand cuffs…

The only thing any of these people had in common was, A) They were inside the house, and B) They were all men, not always father and son, but always one older and one younger…

Sam's hands shook has he closed down the last of the open windows on his computer and set the laptop aside taking in a deep breath…

He looked over at his brother sleeping in the bed beside him, he looked to be nearly 40 years old, the bags under his eyes dark and defined, his lips dry and cracked, his flesh pale… His body was thinner than Sam could ever remember it being before….

"I don't know how, but I'll make you understand…. I'll make you see that this wasn't you, this wasn't your fault…. I'll rescue you big brother and I'll bring you back," Even as the whispers of his own words filled the air surrounding him though, Sam found them hard to swallow. His brother was not just going to forget what he had done, he was not just going to accept what had happened and go on living his life…. He was never going to be the same again, of that the young man was sure.

He also knew that there were still pieces to be found before this puzzle could be solved, buried pieces that he was going to have to dig for…. Why had the young man killed his father, why were there two spirits haunting this house? It was obvious they were the spirits of father and son, but how had Edward died…. And what was the significance of the nature of the body on the living room floor?

Reaching for his cell phone on the small table next to his bed he redialed bobby's number, he knew he was going to need help with this, and Bobby was one of the only people he had left in this world that he could depend on.

"Bobby….. This is Sam" He kept his voice extra low as he climbed off of the bed and made his way toward the bathroom leaving the door open only a crack to keep an ear open for his brother.

"I need you, there's been a break in the case, and I know I can't handle this one on my own…"

Sam's faced turned into a pained expression as he listened to the man on the other end of the phone, questioning the whereabouts of his deiced father…

"I-I'm sorry,…" He bit down on his lip, "He's Dead…"

There was a long painful silence that fallowed and Sam knew that his 'uncle' so to speak, was trying to digest the news…

"I can't really explain just now how it happened, but I need your help…. We're still in Orono…Dean's getting worse by the day… And like I said before I can't do this on my own, I feel like my insides are being ripped apart and it's all I can do to keep up this tough guy act…. I have answers now though…. "

Sitting there listening to Bobby agree to come Sam found sobs of relief working their way into his throat, finally everything was coming together, and help was on the way…. As quickly as he could he gave the address and ended the phone call…

Closing the small metal contraption he set it on the edge of the bathtub and lowered his head into his hands, how had everything gotten so screwed up? How was it his father dealt with this shit everyday and never broke?…. How had he done it before himself? Had he really grown weaker, this fucking weak in his time away from the whole hunting gig?

"you can't bring it home with you." He heard his brother's voice in the back of his mind and an angry smirk came to his trembling lips….

"If only it were that easy this time around…." He brought his hands up around his chest, this had been a day of breakthroughs, heartbreak, pain and relief… and his stomach was more nauseated then a man who had ridden the tallest rollercoaster in the world ten times in a row.

Slowly he rose to his feet and stepped out of the bathroom, his knees were unsteady, his mind was reeling, and all he really wanted to do now was find someway to numb himself…. Numb everything inside of him, everything around him… And sleep… Sleep for days, months even….

But one look at his brother, a glance to the side toward his slumbering form, and he knew that was impossible, he had to watch over him, had to stay alert… Just in case.

He knew now what Dean felt like every time Sam had found himself in some sort of trouble, physically or mentally, and his brother would stay awake watching over him, hours and hours of nothing but sitting there beside him, looking down at him, watching him as though he were waiting for him to do some sort of trick…. Meanwhile Sam would be off into soft slumbers unaware of the fatigue plaguing his brothers body an soul, never once thinking twice about what it felt like to be on the other end of such a short stick….

And now he knew…. He knew everything, as he sat down on his bed legs crossed reaching for the remote and flipping on the TV… And he had never been so thankful in his entire life.

I know that this is not as long of a chapter as most, but a lot of answers came out, to many of the questions that seemed to be plaguing some of you…. Although there are still many more to come. I thank you so much for your overwhelming response to the last chapter, and I hope you liked this one just as much, Please R&R and let me know what you are really thinking, the good the bad and the ugly…

Rosebud