BURNING MEMORIES

Chapter 7

The brothers set out on the long road to recovery with the help of friends, old and new ...

xxxxx

It was on the third day after the fire that the doctors decided to withdraw the sedative and Sam's brother came back to him; suddenly all the toxic coffee and the back-wrecking torture chair was worth it when the green eyes fluttered open, blinking woozily as they focussed on his beaming face.

"Hey bro'" Sam smiled, his bandaged hand gently gripping his brother's wrist.

Dean blinked rapidly, and squinted until his eyes settled into focus. It was then he realised that he wasn't seeing double, but there was another face next to his brother's.

"Bobby?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Good to see ya, dude!" Sam's grin broadened.

Dean moved to sit up, but gasped as his burn stretched with the movement; "holy crap!" He flopped back down into the mound of pillows at his back, panting; "what the hell was that?"

Sam fussed around him, fiddling with the dressing. He slipped his hand around Dean's back to make sure it was all still in place; "you decided to be a great big hero and run into a blazing house to save a little girl's life."

Dean stared up at him, "did I? Cool!"

"Yeah, an' if ya ever do it again, I'll friggin' kill ya;" Bobby added, "what ya tryin' to do boy? Give me a goddamned stroke?"

Dean looked at Sam, "am I in trouble?" he gestured towards Bobby.

Sam laughed, "well, maybe just a bit" he rubbed his big brother's back.

Dean closed his eyes against the pain of his wound, "how's the kid?"

"She's just fine, went home a couple of days ago," Sam reassured his brother, "oh man, she thinks you are just about the best thing on the planet ..."

Dean grinned, "great judgement for one so young."

Bobby parked himself in the chair that Sam had made his own over the last four days; "yeah well, Golden Boy, you char-grilled half your chest in the process, ya idjit - not to mention roasting your lungs through smoke inhalation." Bobby grabbed Dean's arm, "Jeez boy, y'almost died."

Dean was shocked to see the older man's eyes swim with tears; he turned away, giving Bobby a moment to compose himself, "I don' remember any of that," he whispered.

"Yeah well, trust me it's for the best!" Sam muttered. He reached round to the table behind him and picked up a bottle of orange juice, offering it to Dean. He helped his brother lean forward, and watched as the elder Winchester took the bottle and drunk enthusiastically.

Dean's eyes suddenly latched on to his brother's bandaged hands; and he abruptly put the bottle down. "What happened to your hands?" He stared at Sam in dismay.

"Ah, nothin' much; just got a bit too close to the fire, dude." Sam smiled, hoping that Dean missed the knowing glance that skipped between him and Bobby.

xxxxx

Dean was anxious to know how the case had turned out, and was relieved when Bobby told him he had followed them to Featherstone to tidy up the loose ends. "…'cause our friend, the prisoner's pal was burnt up in the original fire, I had to go lookin' for other remains, so I paid an 'out of hours' visit to the museum and had me a little bonfire with his wig and his gloves; that took care of the creepy sonofabitch." Bobby smiled at the thought.

He went on to explain how a cover story involving rat infestation, damp in the electrics, rusty pipes and a catastrophic collection of other defects associated with old houses meant that Alison and Maisie would never know the awful truth of what had happened to them.

"You did good boys," Bobby smiled warmly, "thank you."

The brothers looked at each other and smiled; it had all been worth it.

xxxxx

Increasingly restless, Dean looked down at his bandaged chest, and his eyes fixed on the object under his left arm; he stared at it then looked up, perplexed, at the two grinning men beside him.

"Do either of you mind tellin' me why I'm in bed with a friggin' rabbit?"

Sam stifled a laugh, "Peter," he corrected his brother.

"Whatever", Dean picked the purple rabbit up by one ear, "What's Peter doin' in bed with me?"

"He's protecting you." Sam sniggered, "isn't he adorable, Bobby?" Bobby studied the scene, "who, Princess Fairycakes there or the rabbit?"

Dean's eyes widened in horror, "are you tellin'me, I'm a full-on, gold plated hero lying here with all those hot nurses fussin' round me and all the time I've been cuddlin' a friggin' toy rabbit?"

"Uh, yeah, that's about right," Sam grinned wickedly, "don't worry bro', they all thought it was really cute".

Dean closed his eyes, "oh God; kill me now!"

"Seriously Dean," Sam laughed, "Maisie was quite insistent that Peter stayed with you to protect you and look after you."

Dean looked up at him, "She gave me her special rabbit?"

"Told you – you made a big impression."

Dean examined the little purple toy, and looked up at Sam with wide green eyes. "Wow … that's sorta, um, kinda really nice ... I dunno what to say!"

"You should keep it, it suits you," teased Bobby.

Dean raised his arm to present an indecent gesture at the older man, but the effect was ruined somewhat by a sharp flinch and a stifled grunt as the burnt flesh stretched again; Sam's hand was round his shoulders in an instant.

"Steady, bro', how's it feeling?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the bed with a pained wince, "friggin' hurts" he groaned miserably. He turned to Sam, "how soon before I can get out of here?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, "if you spent as much time concentratin' on getting better as you do bitchin' about getting' out, you'd be in a lot less pain, ya moron."

Dean sighed petulantly and leaned wearily into Sam's hug. He absently began to pick at some of he surgical tape across his stomach until Sam swatted his hand away. "Leave it!"

"Yes mother." snorted Dean, settling huffily back into the mound of pillows behind him.

Bobby looked across at Sam, "Shall I go and see if I can get him some more painkillers to settle him down?"

"Uh Bobby, that might not be necessary," Sam replied, gesturing towards the elder Winchester.

Dean's faint snores drifted up to greet them.

xxxxx

"Why don't you keep it?" Sam asked lightly.

"Seriously, dude, what am I gonna do with a toy rabbit?" a dressed and antsy Dean sat on the edge of the bed holding Peter and waiting for Bobby to come back to tell him the Impala was ready and waiting to take him away from this place. "We've got enough stuff to cart around with us already, and anyway, if I donate it to the children's ward here, he - it'll be a lot more use to them."

Sam shrugged and hauled Dean's duffel up onto the bed next to him.

"I'm just gonna hit the head, then a soon as Bobby gets back with the car, we'll go," Dean nodded at him with a smile, and watched him leave.

xxxxx

The brothers sat in the back of the Impala; Dean leaning heavily against Sam as he slept soundly through the journey. Sam knew Dean would be waking up sometime soon, so pulled Dean's duffel onto his lap to root out his painkillers.

As he pulled the zip back, two purple ears popped out to greet him.

Sam stifled a laugh and looked down at his sleeping brother.

"God, I love you bro'."

xxxxx

end

Sort of the end, but I can feel a short epilogue coming on ...