I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE
Chapter Seven: Out Of Miracles
The tears rolled down Jenny's cheeks but she made no move to wipe them away. What was the point? They hadn't stopped for the past three hours, she couldn't stop them, because her entire world felt like it had come crashing down around her. There was no escape from the seemingly suffocating hospital around her. Everything just seemed to build up in her chest, burning as though she were being held under water, and stop her from breathing. It was too much.
It had been five hours now since she had all but dragged the body of her younger brother through the double glass doors at the front of the building, her entire body shaking with fear. She hadn't known what to do, she hadn't known what to think, but there had been something in the back of her mind that pleaded with herself to believe he was going to be okay. And, for a couple of hours she had told herself that. They had come out of worse before, nothing could really beat down Sam. He was tough, he was a fighter, he was strong.
But all sense of hope had soon been extinguished by Sam's doctor. And for the past three hours she had sat by his side, sobbing silently as she replayed the conversation over and over again in her head.
It was never good when they had that look on their face. Doctors only looked like that when it was bad news. She could see it coming, Sam was in trouble, that much she knew. He cleared his throat as he approached, seemingly in an attempt to break her intense stare right through him. She was lost in a world of her own, where her own fear and dread took over her mind entirely. "Miss Blake," he began, solemn, and that was when she knew, it was going to be bad. She managed to look up to face him, her hands shaking by her sides as she waited for him to continue. "Miss Blake, I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but there really is nothing we can do for your brother." Jenny felt her heart shatter right there, but she said nothing, just continued to stare at him. "You're going to have to make a decision, we can keep him alive, but—"
"But technically he'll be dead." she finished for him, her voice a low whisper as the words sank into her head.
The doctor nodded sadly. "I really am very sorry."
Since then she hadn't had a straight thought in her mind. What could she really do? There was no saving him this time, she knew that. And then she had realised, this was what people went through all the time. Sometimes people had to accept these things, they had to take it when they were told there was nothing the doctors could do. She had realised, while she and her brothers had been saved from hell and brought back from the dead and pulled back from heaven and purgatory, some families had never even thought up the possibility. That made it harder, because, in a way, they had become dependent upon the far out solutions of cheating death. She knew this time, Sam was really gone. There was nothing they could do, she had nowhere to turn to for help. This was all on her.
A gentle knocking on the door of Sam's room pulled her from her heavy thoughts, and she automatically wiped the tears from her cheeks. The doctor from earlier appeared in the doorway and offered a small, sympathetic smile. "Miss Blake, I'm sorry to interrupt, but your brother has another visitor outside." Jenny frowned, cautious. "Is this a good time?"
"Um..." Jenny thought for a moment, because there was only really two people who were going to be standing outside the room, and she couldn't think which one of them it was going to be. She couldn't handle seeing them in there, not with Sam, and so she pushed herself up from the chair and gave Sam's hand a small, subconscious squeeze. "It's fine." she muttered. "I'll go to them."
The doctor didn't say anything to her, just nodded in understanding before turning to leave the room again. Jenny took a deep breath and followed his leave to the corridor. There was no one there, and she was about to turn and head towards the waiting room, until she heard footsteps round the corner of the hallway behind her. They were heavy, moving quickly towards her, and she closed her eyes, because it sure as hell wasn't Castiel.
And that only left one person. Tentative, she turned to face them, and her stomach dropped a little. "Dean," she said quietly, clearly still wary of him. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Dean's face faltered and his stoic front crumbled for a moment, that clearly wasn't the welcome he had been expecting from her. "Jenny," he spoke softly, as if in an attempt to keep her calm. "It's me, okay? I'm me. You saw him, he cured me."
"Yeah," She scoffed bitterly. "I saw. A lot of good it did him."
Dean looked down from her, shaking his head slowly. He could see the pain in her eyes, so much more than what he could handle. But then, he hadn't spoken to Sam's doctor, he didn't know the severity of his brother's condition, not yet. "I wanna see him." he said, his voice steady, calm, despite the look on her face.
But she shook her head, because she wasn't ready for that. She couldn't be sure. "Dean—"
"Please," he stopped her before she could reason her way out of letting him in. "Jen, he's my brother."
"Yeah," She narrowed her eyes, incredulous, as if she couldn't believe those words had just left his mouth. "And a few hours ago you tried to beat him to death with your bare hands."
That really seemed to touch a nerve with him. His shoulders dropped a little and his face contorted to one of shame and remorse. "Jenny," he sighed. "Please. Don't push me away now. I need to be here."
"Get out, Dean." she muttered, making a move to turn back to his room, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.
The second he made contact with her she flinched, pulling back her arm in fear. She hadn't even realised she had done it until it was too late. His touch had made her jump, and on instinct she had pulled away. But his face dropped as she did. He could tell, she still feared him. She was still carrying everything from the past week with her. It wasn't going away. "Jen—" he tried, but she shook her head.
"Please, Dean," She softened her voice a little, knowing her display had hurt him. "Just go."
Dean sighed. But what was he supposed to say? He couldn't really argue with her. His little brother was lying in a hospital bed, almost certainly about to die, while his little sister was shattered beyond repair. He had done that to both of them—the two kids he had spent his entire life trying to protect—he had caused this. He was responsible. And there was no going back. He couldn't change anything that had happened between them, he couldn't take back the damage done there. Nothing could. There was no escaping and no forgetting.
Reluctant, Dean nodded. "You know my number." he said quietly, and, with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, never once looking back at her. And she knew, he was going to find Sam's doctor, he was going to find some answers, and that only meant one thing, he wasn't leaving that hospital. He wouldn't, not once he knew.
Jenny watched him go, shaking her head to herself as she headed back into Sam's room. She knew, deep down, that maybe it wasn't all his fault. He had only taken on the Mark of Cain in an attempt to stop Abaddon. He hadn't meant himself to end up the way he had done. Crowley hadn't explained to him the full extent of the mark. He hadn't told him what would come in the future, or what he would inevitably turn into. No one had, he had no way of knowing.
But then, a part of her wanted to blame him. She almost needed to blame him. Because, who else could she blame? She could blame Crowley, for the lies he had told them, for not explaining the risks to her brother. She could blame Abaddon, simply because she was the one he had been trying to take down. She could blame Metatron, because he was the one who had murdered Dean, the reason he had become a demon. She could even try and blame herself, thinking over and over what she could have done differently. But, at the top of all the people she wanted to pin it on, the anger and the frustration, the one that stood out to her more than anyone else, was Dean.
Jenny couldn't help it, she felt betrayed by him. Dean had made that choice, she knew. Crowley had propositioned him, choose a side. And he had. And then, suddenly, his eyes were black and he was back in the bunker ready to slaughter them both in cold blood. She had thought deep down that Dean would always be there for her and Sam, because that was what she had always been promised by him. She had never thought Dean would raise a hand to either of them, she could never have imagined him doing anything to harm them, but she had been wrong. Whether it had been the demonic force within him or not, it had still been her brother. To her, that was the hardest thing she had come to terms with, the fact that it hadn't been possession, it had all been their brother.
Sam was lying in that hospital bed because he had tried, once again, to save his brother's life. He had tried to cure him from the dark disease that had completely taken over him. And that had all backfired on him. He was the one left to suffer, the way they had both deep down expected him to.
And then she had to think; why hadn't she done more to stop it all? Why hadn't she stopped him from the start? That was her little brother, she should have stopped him straight the moment the word trial had left his mouth. She should have never even let him consider it, and then none of it would have happened. They wouldn't be in a hospital, Dean wouldn't be out there somewhere hearing that his brother would never wake up again. She wouldn't be breaking apart from the inside. Dean hadn't even wanted to be cured, and she had still let Sam talk her into saving him. She had failed to protect him. This was all on her as much as it was on Dean.
"Sammy," she whispered, taking a hold of his hand in hers gently, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes as she watched him. His chest rose and fell softly, but she knew that wasn't really him breathing, it was all machines. The bruising and cuts on his face were partially hidden by the mask over his nose and mouth, and it killed her to see him like that. "Sam," she pulled a hand down her face, trying to keep it together for him. "What am I supposed to do here? I mean, this whole thing started because you wanted to die and Dean wanted you to live. He crammed that angel inside you and now..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Please, Sam, just tell me what you want. Please."
"Jenny." The voice that spoke her name made her jump, she gasped loudly, her eyes wide and fearful at the suddenly unexpected presence. She released a deep breath at the sight of Castiel standing at the other side of his bed, closing her eyes for a moment as she calmed herself. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Jenny shook her head slowly, as if to tell him that it didn't matter, and looked back to Sam. She needed help, and she couldn't get it from Dean, not this time. "What do I do, Cas?" she asked him quietly, her voice shaking a little with emotion. He tilted his head to the side, as if to tell her he wasn't sure what she was getting at. "I mean, he closed the gates of hell finishing that trial, right? There aren't any demons left on earth to deal with. There's no way in hell I'm gonna shove another angel in there. The doctors can't fix him. What else is there?" She looked up at him as the tears fell from her green eyes. "Seriously, what else is there to do? We've run out of miracles, Cas. We've run out of second chances, and, honestly, I think Sam knew that." Castiel frowned even harder at her words, glancing quickly at her sleeping brother before back to her. "I don't think he expected to survive this. I really don't. And I should have been the one to stop him."
Castiel sighed, remorseful. "Jenny—"
"You know, he said something to me once," she said, before he had the chance to try and tell her it wasn't her fault. "Right after he'd found out about being possessed by Gadreel, when he was still pissed at Dean. He told me that he'd been ready to die, in that hospital. He told me that he'd just wanted the peace, he wanted to be out when Dean crammed that psychopath in there." She sighed. "I think without something to fight for he would've given up a long time ago. But now, I mean, Dean's cured, the gates of hell are locked, what else is there to fight towards?"
"Jenny," Castiel spoke warily, his face uncertain. "Are you talking about Sam giving up...or you?"
"I don't know anymore, Cas." she sighed. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help him. Either of them."
