Through the Darkness
AN: This chapter felt very daunting for me, since I've written 6 chapters and I had no idea how much time had passed. Which it a rather important thing to know since in one weeks time Dean finds out whether he's blind or not. After a quick re-read I realized only 3 days have passed so far, I also needed to know how long it would take to get from New York to Gardiner in Montana. Got that information, so now I'm ready to write this next chapter for you, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Chapter 7
"We'll be there in twenty Bobby," Sam's voice broke through the lifting fog of sleep. And Dean shifted on the bench seat, "Sorry didn't mean to wake you."
"S'okay," he muttered mouth dry, "How long you been driving?" Dean fumbled around on the seat between them searching for the bottle of water he knew was there.
"Just about twenty-two hours," Sam told him, his brother's hand brushed against Dean's and a second later a bottle of water was pressed against his palm.
He'd lashed out at his brother before for being so 'helpful', but he just didn't feel like it at the moment. Might have been that travel, not staying in one place waiting had eased some of his tension, though Dean was more likely to blame it on having just woken up. "How're you doing?"
"I'm really looking forward to getting out of the car," his brother replied adamantly.
Some of the frustration returned to Dean, the drive would have gone a lot better if he'd been able to take over for his brother. It'd be two more days before he'd even find out if the blindness was permanent or not. It was hard not to think about it, not to try and prepare himself for the worst, though he was pretty well convinced on that subject.
"How're you doing?" Sam turned the question back on Dean.
"I hope that was a rhetorical question," was all Dean was willing to say.
Sam sighed, "Sure…"
Dean felt the Impala slowing down, shaving off highway speed as they entered the town of Gardiner. He hadn't really let himself considered what they'd do for the next two days, or more to the point what he'd be left doing. Sam and Bobby could research till their hearts content, but there was no way he'd let them go off and hunt vamps on their own. Didn't matter that Bobby and Sam could take care of it themselves, he wouldn't relax unless he was there. Of course this left more than enough room for the question of 'What good would you be?' he didn't want to answer it.
Sam broke the silence in the car, "You know I'm sure the hunt can wait for two days."
He hated how intuitive his brother could be, though he had to admit it probably wasn't all that hard to guess right now. "And if two days turns into a lifetime?"
"You always are a bright ray of hope," Sam returned sarcastically, "You know that right?"
"Always smiling Sammy," he said dryly, feeling the Impala come to a stop, "We here?"
"It's Sam, and yes," his brother said shutting off the Impala and opening his door immediately.
Dean did the same climbing out of his car only to feel the instant need to stretch out his back. "It's good to see you boys," Bobby's voice cut through the buzz of the street around him. His hand came to rest on Dean's shoulder, giving it a strong squeeze, "This way," he said guiding Dean towards the motel room. It was a little easier to take this sort of fussing from Bobby that Sam but only a little.
"Curb," he informed, and Dean bit down on a sigh, hearing Sam pop the trunk of the Impala behind them. "Have you been as much of an ass as Sammy says?" he asked making not effort to keep his voice down.
"Depends on how he put it," Dean replied feeling the door frame as he walked into the room, Bobby had rented.
"He told me about your hand," Bobby returned voice taking on that firm quality when he was about to berate them for doing something stupid.
Dean shook his head, "Loose your sight, and see how well you take it," he retorted, shrugging out from under Bobby's hand feeling out with his calf for either the nearest bed or chair. What he found was a chair; he made sure it was facing the way he pictured in his head before taking a seat.
The door to the room shut, as Sam came in, "I can see you've already got most of your research done," his brother said the sound of their duffels dropping punctuating his sentence.
Dean could only imagine the paperwork around the room maps of Yellowstone pinned to the walls portions highlighted or crossed off. "I'm narrowing down the search," the older hunter confirmed. "You look like hell Sam, take a break, get some sleep," Bobby suggested, his voice sounding like it was coming from across the room.
"No, I'm alright," Sam tired.
He heard the floor creek as Bobby turned, "We're not getting anything done today," he told the younger hunter flatly.
"Fine," his brother conceded, the springs in one of the mattresses compressing as Sam took a seat. "Don't let me sleep past four," he asked shoes being kicked off as he spoke.
For several minutes nothing was said, Dean rested his hands on the table feeling several pieces of paper spread out before him. The frig door opened, and Dean heard what distinctly sounded like clinking beer bottles. Bobby popped both caps before coming over to the table, "Looks like you could use it."
Dean held out his hand allowing Bobby to place the cold bottle against his palm, and he noticed that the older hunter didn't let go until Dean had a firm grip on it. He took a long appreciative swig of the icy brew and leaned back in his chair. Bobby lowered himself down onto the chair across the table.
"You know you can't hold off the hunt forever," he blurted out before his brain had even registered the words.
"Two days isn't forever," Bobby returned calmly.
Dean shook his head, "And if people get hurt in that time?" he'd feel responsible, and he already had more than enough blood on his hands.
Bobby gave a long drawn out sigh, "You're confusing even to yourself," he stated bluntly.
"Wha…" Dean started to ask when Bobby continued.
"You wouldn't stay here if we left," his friend stated, "And you sure as hell know you can't go."
Both sides of the arguments were out there now, on the table between them they could travel in an endless circle. He sighed in frustration, not wanting to discuss this right now, or ever for that matter. But he'd stupidly brought it up; there was no taking it back now.
"Look I've got a contact in town, runs a small clinic," Bobby began, "I'll take you there first thing Tuesday morning."
It was some small comfort to know the man knew Bobby, and it wouldn't be a complete stranger, at least to one person in the room. "And if it's permanent?" he couldn't help but demand.
"That was the argument you got in with the mirror?" Bobby asked with a skeptical laugh.
Dean shook his head, before dropping it between his shoulders, "I won't live like this," he muttered not sure if Bobby would even hear, or if he wanted him to hear.
"You idiot," Bobby's hand cuffed him up side the head.
"Damnit Bobby!" Dean winced the painful throbbing in his temple returning along the line of stitches.
"What good is thinking like that?" his friend demanded.
Dean placed a hand gently against his head, "No point lying to myself."
"Is that what John would want?"
"Dad's not here!" Dean spat, he couldn't imagine what his dad would have done in this situation, whether he'd been the one blinded or if Dean still was.
"No," Bobby replied tone calm, "But Sammy is, after all the shit you've been through you'd end it?"
He could honestly say at the moment he wouldn't pull the trigger, but he couldn't imagine life without his sight or hunting. Dean took another long pull on his beer, refusing to answer.
"I don't think you're hunting's done," the older hunter attempted to assure.
"More of that one day at a time crap?" he asked resting his elbows back on the table so he could support his still throbbing head.
"That's what I kept telling your dad," was all Bobby said.
Thanks for Reading
Morganeth Taren'drel
