January 24
Chapter 7
The following events passed by in a blur to Sam. He heard his father talk about his telephone conversation with Bobby. Sam was shocked as his mind gathered information that Dean was indeed dying, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything – perhaps shock was the key word here. His ears took in things they could do to help Dean, things his dad was telling him, and even though there were qualms as to whether or not those would work, Sam couldn't make himself say anything, either. He took a canteen of holy water from his fatherr and floated to Dean's bedside in an autopilot mode. He scanned his brother's face, his guardian angel's face, and realized one thing: Dean had truly become an angel with his features turning translucent, lids fluttering upon his eyes, bluish lips slightly ajar as if they froze in the midst of chanting a prayer. Come to think of it, Sam corrected his own thought, Dean didn't look like an angel. A saint. He looked like a saint. Hell, perhaps he was a saint.
Sam was still quietly doing what his father asked him to do. He bent over toward his brother, careful as not to disrupt the IV and other wires attached to Dean's body, lifted Dean by his shoulders, and carefully tipped the holy water into his mouth. Sam jumped and felt himself throw a panicked gaze at his father when Dean reacted violently as the water coursed through him, seeing the oldest Winchester grasp Dean's legs to avoid further uproar and to enable Sam to give Dean another dose.
Sam heard his father coax him not to be afraid and tell him that the splinters the creature left behind would soon vanish from Dean's system, and that they would see it happen when Dean no longer thrashed about. Sam heard his dad say that was exactly why they both needed him here, and when he mutely asked him to elaborate, his father simply nodded in Dean's direction. Sam stared in horror as he caught sight of trickles of blood seeped from Dean's nose. But that was not the reason why his dad had nodded earlier. Sam thought he heard something and as he listened carefully, he came to realize that Dean was whispering.
"Don't get too worked up over this, Sammy."
And something more.
"I'm fine. You're happy, that's what matters."
Everything was a blur, but more than that, this time it was some stupid, uninvited tears making it even more blurred. Sam felt his hands shaking. More sips, he told himself. And when Dean was not fighting him anymore, Sam abandoned the canteen, letting it slide down Dean's blanket, and he broke down. Sam crumpled on to Dean's body, wrapped him with his own, and sobbed uncontrollably.
The machine showed that Dean's heart pulse and blood pressure were rising steadily but Sam didn't need it to tell him that his guardian angel and saint was going to be alive.