Chapter Nine: Seven months?


Dean watched his Dad climb out of his car and make his way towards the house. "Shit." The last thing he needed now was for his Dad to be here; he didn't want to see him and start arguing with him in front of Sam and he most defiantly didn't want John to see Sam, he knew for a fact he'd be the one to push Sammy too far and make him forget who he is...Dean was not going to allow that to happen.

He turned around to look at Sam, ready to make an explanation up for why he dragged him up to his room – their room-...but he was too surprised by the sight of Sam. Sam was stood in the same place he had been in when Dean had pushed him into the room, but now his hands were fisted by his sides, his whole body trembling and his eyes wider than they had ever been before. This sight scared him.

He rushed to Sam, his hands going straight to cup his face. "Sammy? Sam, what's wrong?" He asked urgently. Sam didn't answer, his eyes just widened. "Sam? Sammy?" He shook Sam lightly, trying to get his eyes to at least focus on him. They did. Dean's eyes widened...Sam's eyes changed. They'd focused on him and they were different. They were Sam's. His Sammy's. They were looking at him...and they were seeing him, Sammy recognised him. "S-Sam?"

Sam's face paled. "D-Dean?" Before Dean could react at all...Sam's head fell back limp and his whole body fell down to the floor, hitting it with a thud.

Dean stared down at Sam for a moment; complete shock took over his whole body...then it hit him. "Sam!" He fell to the floor, pulling Sam into his lap and holding him tightly and closely before standing up with Sam in his arms. He ran out of his room and down the hall shouting, "Bobby, help!"

******

Dean was knelt down next to the sofa that Sam was laid unconscious on. He had hold of Sam's hand in both of his, his lips pressed to Sam's knuckles. He kept whispering the same two words against Sam's knuckles: "Please, Sammy."

John was watching silently from the kitchen, a disgusted look on his face. Bobby was filling a bowl with cold water in the sink close to John. He turned the tap off and stood next to his friend. "Either you get rid'a that look on ya face...or ya get outta my house!" He said quietly, but made sure it was loud enough for him to hear and that it was challenging enough for him to know he was serious.

John kept his gaze on his sons, mainly his eldest. "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like 'm joking?" Bobby asked sternly. "Those boys love and need each other...ge' used to it! 'Coz they'll be together once Sam wakes up."

"You mean if he remembers who Dean is...didn't you say it was more likely that Sam would forget than remember?"

"Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't ya!" Bobby exclaimed angrily. He walked off into the living room, knowing he would swing for John if he stayed with the man any longer. He put the bowl on the floor and took the flannel off of Sam's forehead and placed it back on his head, after re-wetting it. He looked down worriedly at Dean; apart from whispering against Sam's knuckles he hadn't said a word to anyone in almost four hours now. "Dean?"

Dean kept his gaze on Sam as he spoke; his voice quiet and filled with concern. "When's he gonna wake up, Bobby?"

"I don' know boy."

Dean looked up at Bobby, worry covering his features and tears brimming in his eyes. "He'll remember who he is, won't he Bobby?"

Bobby looked down at Dean, knowing he should tell the truth that he didn't know...but it was unlikely Sam would. If he was going to remember he shouldn't have passed out like he did...he didn't know of any Demon curses that knocked humans out when the curse was wearing off. But he couldn't do that. The whole situation was breaking his heart...and the hopeless look on Dean's face wasn't helping. "Yeah...o' course he will, boy. Don' you worry."

Dean smiled lightly; he knew Bobby was lying to him...but he was glad. He needed to be told Sam would remember who he was, even if it was just to stop himself from worrying if only for a few seconds...he wanted hope instead of worry. The little bit of hope Dean had managed to come up with was taken away as he heard his farther speak.

"He isn't going to remember you, Dean. He isn't going to remember any of us." John told his oldest son as he walked into the room. "He isn't going to remember what you two had, either...whatever that was."

Dean shut his eyes in anger. He kissed Sam's knuckles before standing up and turning to face his farther, fury writing in ever move he made. "Sammy is lying there...he could be dying for all we know! And you're still trying to convince yourself that we weren't together or that I forced him to do the stuff we did? Aren't you even concerned about Sam?"

John's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Don't you dare say-!"

"Don't what!? You're so disgusted by me you're not even worried about Sam...this is the first time you've come into this room since I brought him down, and I know it's because I stayed in here with him. Don't try telling me it's not, because I know it is!" Dean said angrily, jabbing his finger in his Dad's direction. He took a deep angry shaky breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Who do you think you're talk-!" John started but was interrupted again.

"I haven't finished yet!" Dean yelled and then took another deep breath. "Me and Sam...huh, you had the nerve to say I'd made Sammy have sex and that I didn't know him...but I know him better than anyone, always have an' always will. An' I love him more than anyone else does too. So, if you can't deal with that...fuck off! Because I don't want you around...and if you're unhappy with our relationship, neither will Sam." Dean turned away from his Dad and knelt back on the floor close to Sam, holding his hand.

"Dean..." John started but didn't know how to continue. He looked at Dean and Sam with a sad expression and then gave Bobby a quick look, before leaving the house.

"Bobby, will you go check on him please?" Dean asked; he may be angry with his Dad and not want to see him for a long time...but he knew Sam would want to see him when he woke up. He was going to give Sam everything he wanted and he was not going to let him get hurt ever again.

"Sure." Bobby said quickly and left the house.

"Sammy...I need you to wake up. I need you back, Sammy." Dean whispered into Sam's ear. As he laid his forehead against Sam's ear he felt tears falling from his eyes; he wanted Sam back so much...it hurt. "I love you, Sammy. Please come back to me."

Sam's eyes shot open and he gasped before bursting into a fit of coughs.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed as he looked at Sam sitting up, eyes open and mouth wide as he coughed. He brought his hand to Sam's back and smacked him a couple of times, stopping Sam's coughs.

Sam looked at Dean. His eyes wide and blurry and full of confusion. "Dean...w-what happened? I-I was...y-y-you came in and...we're at B-Bobby's?"

"Sammy!" Dean cried and threw his arms around Sam's neck, pulling him to him. He smiled widely as he held his brother.

Dean pulled away after a short while and just stared at Sam. Sam was smiling back at him, but still looked confused. Dean grabbed his brother's face and pulled it close to him, pressing their lips together; Sam's hands quickly fisted in Dean's hair, pulling him closer.

A short while later Sam pulled away and stared at Dean. "I love you." He smiled. "But...w-what's going on? And how're we at Bobby's house?"

Dean's eyes widened. "You...don't remember the past seven months, do you?"

"S-s-seven months?"


End of chapter 9!

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