A/N I have actually rewritten this story - the only way I could come up with to get around my horrible writer's block. A lot of it remains the same but there are more brotherly moments (adult, teenchester and weechester) in this new version. For chapters 1 to 5, it was more or less tweaking, but chapter 6 and onward has a lot of changes. Whether or not you want to reread from that chapter on, is entirely up to you. Either way, thank so much for sticking with me for so long! Kelcor
CHAPTER SEVEN - TRUTH BE TOLD
Together again, Sam and Dean trudged through Dean's mind, searching for clues to what Lilith had done to the older Winchester to make him deaf and mute.
"Maybe we should split up," Sam suggested.
"What? No way, Sam."
"Why not?"
"Because, first of all, I can't protect you if you're off on your own. And, secondly…"
"What?"
"I don't want you snoopin' around in my head."
"Dean, if you're ever gonna trust me, now would be a good time to start."
Sam watched as his brother's head snapped up at his statement. "What're you talkin' about, Sam? I trust you with my life, you know that."
"Yeah, with your life. But, apparently not with anything else."
"Sammy…"
"Look, Dean, I'm not gonna use your vulnerabilities against you, okay? I would never, EVER hurt you intentionally."
"I know that, Sammy."
"Then, please, just trust me!"
Dean couldn't ignore the pleading tone in his little brother's voice - he never could. He gazed at him for another moment, then finally relented. "Okay," he said, "we split up, then."
They each stepped away from each other, Sam sporting a soft smile on his face. "Be careful, Dean."
"You too, Sammy. Just remember, my mind can be scarier than a Stephen King novel."
"I kinda figured as much," Sam declared, only half joking.
It wasn't long before Sam came to a dark alley of some sort. He found himself wishing that Dean was there so that he could conjure up a flashlight for him - then a flashlight appeared in his left hand, and he didn't even have to wish for the shotgun that appeared in his right. "Thanks, Dean," Sam said to the apparent emptiness. He'd forgotten that his brother was everywhere in here - literally!
Turning on the flashlight, he made his way into the alley, in search of what was causing his brother's ailments. It didn't take long for the light to fall on a figure hunched over next to an old, grimy dumpster. Sam approached cautiously, placed a hand on the stranger's shoulder. "Hello?" The man turned around, and Sam wasn't all that surprised to see the bright green eyes staring up at him. He winced, however, when he saw the thick scars covering the areas where his brother's ears should be. "Oh man, Dean!" Before Sam could do anything else, he found himself being tossed through the air, his back slamming into the brick wall on the other side of the alleyway. The flashlight crashing to the ground at his feet, and his shotgun flying out of his hand, landing only a few feet away. But, those few feet may as well have been light years because Sam couldn't move an inch.
Dean found himself - quite literally - in a vaguely familiar park. A younger Dean was sitting at a picnic table, carving pictures into the wooden table top with a small pocket knife. Dean brushed some snow off the bench and sat down next to his other-self. After a moment, he realized it was the same park that Lucas had been sitting in the first time Dean had tried talking to him. He glanced around but didn't see the boy or his mom, Andrea, anywhere in sight. He noted that this version of himself was probably about 14 years old, but he couldn't see anything wrong with him - nothing that would constitute his not being able to hear or speak, anyway.
"Hey," he ventured. The boy flinched at the sound of his voice but that was about it. He placed a hand on the other-Dean's shoulder - nope, didn't get any weirder than this - in an attempt to get at least a more tangible reaction. The green eyes suddenly peered up at him. "How ya' doin'?" Dean asked him. No response.
"He can't speak," a small voice said from behind.
Dean turned and his breath caught in his throat when he saw a ten-year-old Sam staring up at him. Finding his voice again, he said, "And, how do you know that, kiddo?"
Sam shrugged. "He's my brother," he answered matter-of-factly.
"I see. And, you know everything about your brother."
The ten-year-old beamed up at him and nodded. "Uh-huh! He's my hero!"
Dean's eyebrows rose at this last statement. "Is that so?"
"Yup."
"Is he a superhero?"
"Darn straight!"
"Yeah? Which one?"
Sam seemed to think about that one for a minute. "Batman!"
This brought an honest to goodness smile to Dean's face. "Batman, huh. Why's that?"
"Duh! Because he fights the bad guys and gets the chicks!"
Dean laughed. One thing about Sam, the kid was always able to make him laugh. He reached over and ruffled his little brother's hair.
"Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"Well," Dean replied, "um, do you know what your dad does? I mean, do you know what his job is?"
Sam hesitated, he didn't really know much because Dean refused to tell him anything. "He's a travelling sales man," the boy answered, not believing his brother's story anymore but unable to come up with an alternative reply.
"That's right," Dean said, "I haven't told you yet."
"Told me what?"
"Uh, nothing, kid. Listen, a mean lady made your brother sick, that's why he can't talk."
The ten-year-old stepped forward and held his teenage brother's hand in his own. "Can you help him?"
"I'm not sure," Dean admitted, then a thought occurred to him. "How old are you, Sam?"
"Ten," the boy said proudly.
"When is Christmas?"
Sam looked at him quizzically. "Dude! You lose your calendar, or something?"
"Humour me, kid."
"It's in three days."
"You got that present you were gonna give him?"
The boy's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know about that?"
"Bobby told me," Dean said quickly.
"It was supposed to be a secret," Sam pouted. "It's no fun if it's not a surprise."
"Actually," Dean said, his voice hushed conspiratorially, "that's why I'm here."
Sam's head canted to one side, simultaneously curious and suspicious.
"Bobby wanted me to tell you to give Dean the amulet today instead of on Christmas morning."
"Why?"
"Bobby told you it's magic, right?"
Sam nodded.
"Well, we think it might help your brother to speak again."
The boy visibly brightened at this news. "Really? You think it might?"
Dean shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to try, could it?"
"I guess not," Sam replied, though hesitantly. After thinking about it for a moment, he smiled. "Okay, if you think it might help Dean, I'll give it to him early." The ten-year-old pulled the amulet out of his pocket, where he obviously had been keeping it safe. He reached over and put it over his brother's head. Almost instantly the amulet began to glow. Then, just as quickly, the glow disappeared - so quickly, in fact, that Dean half thought that he had imagined it.
He watched as his teen-self gazed down at the amulet, tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Sammy," he said softly.
Ten-year-old Sam was so happy, he threw himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Dean, you're okay!"
The teenaged Dean returned the hug whole-heartedly. "Thanks to you, Sammy. Thanks to you."
Dean walked away from the two boys at the picnic table, refusing to admit even to himself that the water in his own eyes was due to anything other than the cold.
"Hey," a voice called from behind him.
Dean turned to face the ten-year-old again.
"Is that mean lady gonna hurt my brother again?"
"Not if I can help it, kid."
"Thanks," Sam said.
"You're welcome," Dean replied, then walked away again. He smiled when he heard his younger self say "Who the heck are you talkin' to, Sammy? Please don't tell me you have another imaginary friend!"
"Dean, I'm sorry! I failed you. I'm so sorry!"
The older Winchester spun around in a circle, his eyes searching the vast landscape - had the park been this big before? The boys were still sitting at the picnic table, laughing about something or other, but Dean was unable to hear anything they were saying. All he could hear was his 25-year-old brother's voice.
'Ah crap', Dean thought, his eyes narrowing at the feeling of concern growing in the pit of his stomach. 'Sammy, what'd you get yourself into now?'
Sam watched helplessly as the demons approached him. He was still pinned to the brick wall behind him and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Lilith said in an annoyingly sweet-sounding voice. "Haven't you learned yet that I rule the roost in here? Dean is mine to do with as I choose."
"Leave my brother alone," Sam demanded.
Lilith, now as a pretty blonde, walked over to the scarred figure next to the dumpster. "Hmmm. Maybe I'll just have to take his eyes… again. Break his legs? Ooh, ooh, I know! How about I kill him and bring him back, over and over again?" Her lips drew into a pout. "Nah. I've done that so many times already. What do you think, Sammy? How should I hurt your brother this time?"
"I am so gonna kill you, bitch!"
"I really don't think you're in a position to make threats, Sammy."
"Maybe not, but I am!"
Lilith spun around, a look of utter shock came across her face when she saw Dean standing a few feet away. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, you see, you've made the horrible mistake of hurting my brother and now you're gonna have to die."
"You can't kill me, Dean! Your weapons won't work, you know that."
"You're right," Dean stated, "the guns won't work. But, I happened to find a handy little library on my way over here." At that moment, a large tome formed in his hands. He instantly began reading the Latin incantation from the pages.
"No!" Lilith screamed. Then the other demons joined in as, all at once, each demon was expelled from the bodies they'd been inhabiting, including Lilith. Then, since they weren't weren't real anyway, the bodies disappeared into thin air.
Sam fell hard to the ground. He looked up a minute later to find Dean hovering over him. "You okay," Dean asked.
"Yeah," the younger replied, taking his brother's hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "You?"
"I think so. Been talkin' to myself way too much lately, though," he added lightly.
"Dude, since when do you have a freakin' library in your head?"
Dean slapped him upside the back of the head, "Watch it, Sasquatch. I can still kick your scrawny ass!"
"Whatever, Dude," Sam laughed. Then, all laughter gone from his eyes, he added, "Just promise me you'll wake up, Dean?!"
"I promise, Sammy," Dean replied sincerely.
This time, when Sam woke up, Bobby was standing at the window on the other side of the room, gazing out at the early morning sunshine. The younger Winchester prayed that he was, in actuality, awake this time around. He checked on Dean and saw that his brother's eyes were - again - not open. "C'mon, man," Sam pleaded. "Dude, you promised! You've never once in your life broken a promise to me, please, please don't start now."
Bobby spun around at the sound of his voice. "Sam? Dagnabbit, boy, what the hell took you so long? I was worried sick!"
"Sorry, Bobby. Things were more complicated than we thought."
"What's important now is that you're awake," the older hunter relented, his eyes falling on Dean. "Did it work?"
"We got rid of the demons, especially Lilith, but as to whether or not it cured Dean... I don't know," Sam said, once again looking down at his brother. "Bobby," he began, regaining eye contact with his friend, "why is it so hot in here?"
"Hot? What're you talkin' about? I actually find it pretty cool."
At that moment, Sam realized the heat wasn't coming from the house, it was coming from his brother. "Crap! Bobby, he's burning up!"
Bobby was at his side a second later, placing the back of his hand on Dean's forehead, then cheek. "Yeah, and from the feel of it, I'd say it's pretty darn high, too. We need to cool him down."
"Maybe Lilith isn't gone after all," Sam said, his voice close to the edge of panic.
Bobby grabbed a thermometer from the bag full of medical supplies - he'd used the last thermometer to check Rumsfeld's temperature and had promptly thrown it out afterwards... no one would want that thing in their mouth ever again. He placed the new temperature guage in Dean's mouth and waited to hear the beep before taking it out.
"Crap!"
"How high," Sam asked simply, not quite hiding the tremble in his voice.
"104.5."
Sam didn't respond but his sharp intake of breath told Bobby that the young man did, in fact, hear him. Without a second to spare, Bobby stormed out of the room.
Having not realized that Bobby had even left, Sam jumped slightly when the older hunter returned with a cold wash cloth. "Here," he said, "you start wiping down his face, neck, chest and arms. I'm gonna go get the book with the exorcism ritual in it." After placing a large bowl of water on the nightstand, Bobby started out of the bedroom, then turned and pointed a finger sternly at Sam, "You stay with your brother, ya' hear!? He needs you, right now!"
If Sam was still wondering if this was the real Bobby - which, let's be honest, he was - all doubt left his mind when Bobby told him to stay with his brother, no matter what. Sam gave the older hunter a small, sad smile. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away."
While Bobby went downstairs to get the book from his immense library, Sam removed Dean's t-shirt and began cooling his brother down. After only a couple passes with the cloth, he had to immerse it into the bowl of cool water. He quickly returned the cloth to his brother's fevered skin, and couldn't help remembering the scene he'd witnessed in Dean's mind of a time when Sam was really sick. "My turn to take care of you this time, big brother."
Bobby returned and almost immediately began the Latin incantation. Dean started to jerk around on the bed. It started out as flinches but soon progressed to him arching his back off the mattress and fisting the blankets in his hands. Sam pushed him back down onto the bed, draping his own body over top of his brother's chest in an attempt to keep Dean from hurting himself before Bobby's recitation was complete.
As soon as Bobby uttered the last Latin phrase, Dean's body went limp beneath Sam's, which prompted the younger to instantly check for a pulse. He allowed a heavy sigh of relief escape his slightly parted lips when he found a strong, steady heart beat. After ten minutes, however, the fever had still not receded. He and Bobby were fast running out of options. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, next to Dean's hip, and put his face in his hands. He was doing his best not to break here, but it was getting more and more difficult with each passing second. He'd just gotten his brother back, there was no way he was going to lose him again!
Then, something his father had said to him ran through his mind. "Remember the present." Sam had thought his father was telling him to live in the now and forget about the past, forget about the night Dean had been taken from him, the night the Hell hounds had attacked. But, now...
"Hey, Sam, you still with me, son?"
Sam nodded mutely.
"I think we're gonna have to get him into a tub of cool water before this fever fries his brain," Bobby told him, preparing to lift Dean into his arms. When the older hunter had Dean pulled into a sitting position, with one arm beneath his legs, Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, halting his efforts.
"Wait," the younger Winchester said softly, "I have an idea." He reached under his own shirt and pulled the amulet he'd given Dean all those years ago out from beneath it. He removed it and immediately placed it over Dean's head, allowing the amulet itself to lay over his brother's heart.
"What now," Bobby asked.
"Now, we wait."
"Sam, if we wait much longer..."
"I know, Bobby, okay. I know. Just give it a chance. If his fever doesn't start going down in the next few minutes, we'll go with your idea. I just... it's something that Dad said in my dream. I really think this is going to work."
Bobby simply tilted his head slightly in agreement and released Dean, laying him gently back down on the bed. He watched as Sam took his brother's hand in his own once again. Bobby leaned against a nearby wall. Neither moved from those positions until five minutes had passed, then Bobby replaced the thermometer into Dean's mouth. Bobby was pretty sure that Sam didn't even take a breath this time as they waited for the tell-tale beep.
Once the thermometer told them it was finished, Sam pulled it out of his brother's mouth.
"Well?" Bobby asked impatiently. "Don't leave me hangin' here, boy!"
The corners of Sam's mouth twitched up a bit, then spread into an all-out, toothy grin. "It worked," he told the older man. "The fever's already down to 102!"
TBC
A/N Okay, so the next two chapters will be two small epilogues which will basically translate to two alternate endings. One with Sam h/c and angst... the other with Dean h/c and angst. Please review and let me know which one you want me to post first... the one with the most votes wins... either way, they will both be posted. The only question is, which one will be first? ;o) Kelcor
