a/n Okay, just to reiterate, this is not a continuation to chapter eight. It's an alternate ending. In chapter eight, Dean remembered everything from the dream walking so he knew he was safe. This chapter is based on what it would've been like if he didn't remember. Hope you enjoy! Please review? Kelcor

A/N II My apologies for any mistakes but I will go through it and edit tomorrow. For now, I have to go to bed - still sick and have to work tomorrow. But, I promised I would have it up today, so here it is. I hope you'll forgive any errors, typos, etc.

CHAPTER NINE - DEAN'S GRIEF

It had taken half an hour before Dean's temperature had finally dropped back down to normal. Two hours later and Sam was still sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding his brother's hand, silently pleading - and, yes, even praying - for Dean to wake up. Bobby had tried to bring him some food once or twice but Sam just hadn't been able to eat. All he could think of was his big brother and how he couldn't possibly handle losing him again!

The younger Winchester closed his eyes and concentrated on his brother's breathing and the warmth of his hand clasped firmly in his own, the only indications that the other man was alive. After a few moments, the breathing changed. It went from slow and even, to short and hitched. Sam's eyes flew open and he stared down at his brother. Is he having a nightmare? Sam wondered to himself.


Dean felt himself slip back to consciousness but he refused to open his eyes. How could he be sure this was real? He remembered snippets of being with Sam but not being able to see him or hear him. Other than that, all he could remember was pain, torture, agony, and… Dad? No way. That part had to be a dream, or another trick. Their were numerous occasions in which the Demons had made Dean think that he was free, that he was back with his brother, driving the Impala, fighting evil… there was even a couple times when they made him believe that his whole life had been nothing but a dream; Mom and Dad were alive, Sam was in school but came home to visit every chance he got, Dean had graduated from the Police Academy - that should have been his first clue that something just wasn't right - and, most importantly, the Yellow Eyed Demon had never existed, evil had never encroached itself into their lives.

Every single time, just when Dean was starting to get comfortable with his surroundings, to trust that it was real, everything would be ripped away from him - leaving him broken and alone once again.

He felt a warm hand on his chest; another ghosting through his hair. Then, Sam's voice, "It's okay, big brother. I've got you. You're home now."

Dean wanted so much to believe it. His heart actually ached with the longing for these whispered words to be true, but he couldn't allow himself to trust his mind again because his mind was no longer his own; it belonged to Lilith, to all the Demons living in the pit.


Sam felt his brother's heart beat racing beneath his palm. He looked closely at his brother's face - no Rapid Eye Movement. This was honest-to-goodness fear. He ran his hand through Dean's hair in an attempt to soothe him, and kept his hand on his chest to ground him, to pull him back from wherever his mind was taking him.

"It's okay, big brother," he whispered softly. "I've got you. You're home now."

The lone tear making it's way down the side of Dean's face did not go unnoticed. Sam captured it with his thumb before it was able to settle into his brother's hair.

"Open your eyes for me, Dude. Please? I need to know you can see and hear me. I need to know that you're better."

Real or not, Dean had never been able to deny his brother when he used that voice. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the sure-to-be-apparition claiming to be his brother - and did his best not to react to the big toothy grin that greeted him. And, just like every other time, his breath caught in his chest at the sight of his little brother.

"Hey," Sam said softly. "How ya' feelin'?"

Dean remained silent, figuring if he didn't speak, he wouldn't bond - and if he didn't bond, it wouldn't hurt as much when it all ended… because it always, always ended.


It was a week later and Dean still hadn't spoken. He could definitely see. And, he always reacted when someone spoke to him or walked into the room. He just hadn't said anything. Sam was convinced that, although they'd been able to get his hearing and sight back, they'd failed when it came to his voice. After a while, the younger was positive that Dean had abandoned his own mission to save Sam, when they were in the dream walk and is big brother had come soaring to his little brother's rescue. Sam mentally kicked himself now for not asking said big brother if he'd been able to find and cure the cause for the loss of his voice before retaking his role as the one-man-cavalry.

Dean had seemed despondent the entire time they had spent at Bobby's, so Sam had decided that they should hit the road again; maybe the time driving in his baby would be just what Dean needed to get out of his funk. Truth be told, Sam was actually feeling down in the dumps, as well. He missed the sound of his brother's voice. The wisecracks, the brotherly teasing - he'd even come to miss their arguments. But, he still had his brother back. That's what he had to concentrate on. Lilith may have won a single battle, but she hadn't won the war. Dean was back where he belonged and there was no way Sam was ever gonna let him go again… No freakin' way!

The trip in the Impala did seem to brighten Dean's mood but the improvement was short lived - possibly because Sam didn't let Dean drive for very long. He just didn't want his brother to over do it so soon after his ordeal. And, yeah, maybe the younger Winchester was being a little over protective, but he figured he had the right to be. After all, not only had his brother just been brought back from Hell, he'd also had to fight various demons inside his head to get all of his senses back… Well, most of 'em, anyway, Sam thought dejectedly.

Dean found himself starting to believe more and more that this was real; that he was back with his little brother, sitting behind the wheel of the Impala - for a little while, anyway - but quickly stopped himself because he knew that that was exactly when it would end. And, as much as Dean hated to be tricked again, he didn't want the time with Sam to end. He just couldn't bear for his brother to be taken away from him again.

Sam pulled into a motel early that first evening away from Bobby's. Dean had started to look more and more depressed and the younger Winchester thought he had finally figured out what to do to help him. Well, he hoped he had, anyway.

He let Dean hop in the shower first. As soon as the door was shut, Sam pulled a local phone book out of the nightstand. He made a few calls, asked a few questions and, before he heard Dean turn off the shower, Sam had found what he was looking for. He didn't miss the look of surprise on Dean's face when the older Winchester exited the bathroom but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, so Sam just dismissed it as being a product of the over active imagination that Dean was always teasing him about.

Once Sam was showered and ready, he came out of the bathroom and watched his brother for a moment - sprawled out on one of the beds, flipping through the channels on the small, extremely out of date, black and white television. Sam went over and hit Dean's foot lightly with one hand.

"C'mon, get your shoes on."

Dean looked at him, eyebrows up to his hairline.

"We're goin' out," Sam continued, laughing when he was rewarded with an even more perplexed expression on his brother's face. "What? You wanna be cooped up inside for another night?"

Dean shook his head hesitantly, clearly unsure of what was happening.

"Then, hurry up. Let's go, big brother."

The older Winchester got up slowly off the bed, put his boots on and grabbed his jacket, giving Sam quizzical glances throughout the entire process.

Their first stop was a vintage record store. The look in Dean's eyes reminded Sam of a kid at Christmas time. He followed behind, watching his big brother pick out tapes from some of his favourite classic rock bands, occasionally contributing his own choices into the growing pile - an act which earned him another look of surprise, which Sam wasn't able to dismiss as easily this time. Is he really that surprised that I'm doing this for him? Is it just because I'm expressing an interest in the same music? Or, is there something more? The boys paid for the tapes and left the store. Dean wanted to get in the Impala right away so that he could listen to their most recent purchases but Sam led him around to the back of the car instead. The younger took the bag of tapes from his brother and deposited them into the trunk. He then steered his increasingly confused brother back around the car and down the street, until they finally stopped half a block away at a… pub??

Sam ordered for both of them for obvious reasons. Besides, he already knew what Dean would most want to eat - cheeseburger, extra onions, no pickles, fries on the side and, of course, an ice cold beer. When he saw Dean watch the waitress' hips sway as she walked back to the kitchen to get their orders, Sam had no doubt that his big brother would eventually emerge out of his funk .

After they finished their meals, they ordered a few more beers, and simply enjoyed each other's company. Well, Sam enjoyed Dean's company, anyway. He wasn't all that sure what was going through Dean's head. One minute, his brother would look like he was having fun, enjoying the music, the beer, possibly even the companionship of his brother; the next minute, he looked wary, almost fearful. The younger Winchester watched silently as Dean got up and went to the bathroom. Looking at his watch, Sam left their table to find the waitress to get the tab totalled up so they could head back to the motel. He still didn't want Dean over doing it just yet.

Dean took care of his business. As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. Maybe this is real. I mean, the vintage store? Sammy picking out tapes, too? Now, my favourite food and beer? Am I really home? Am I really back with Sammy? For the first time since opening his eyes and seeing Sam a week ago, Dean finally allowed himself to believe this wasn't a trick. He smiled at his reflection and then quickly left the bathroom to find his little brother… and felt his heart plummet when he returned to an empty table. No-no-no-no-no! Not again! No! He stumbled out of the bar, dreading what always came next; the chains, the torture, the claws, the teeth. He ran aimlessly across the parking lot and down the street, in a vain attempt to escape the coming storm.

He had no idea how long he had been running but he could barely breathe when he finally stopped. He was confused. He didn't know why They hadn't come for him yet. They always show up immediately after the deception is revealed because They enjoy seeing him break. One thing Dean did know was that he couldn't let his guard down. They could show up at any minute; any second, even.

After catching his breath, he glanced at his surroundings and realized that he'd somehow ended up back at their motel. Looking to his left, he saw that the Impala was still parked in the lot. This isn't the way it usually happens. What the hell is goin' on? Well, if They weren't going to come to him, he would go to them! He was tired of running. Dean Winchester didn't run, dammit! He marched up to the door but, before he could even try the knob, Sam came barrelling out of the room, smacking into Dean on his way to the Impala. Dean was too shocked to do anything more than gape at him, especially when he saw the tears in Sam's eyes. It's too soon. He's never come back before. Not before the torture. This breaks the routine. This is weird. This isn't right.

"Dean!? Where have you been? I've been lookin' all over for you, man! Why did you leave the bar? You scared the hell outta me!" Sam paused, waiting for an answer from his brother, then remembered his brother's current circumstances. He grabbed the older Winchester by the elbow and hauled him into the room. Once inside, Sam checked him over for any kind of injury. It was when his eyes settled on his brother's still shell-shocked face, however, that Sam finally figured out what was wrong. Why didn't I see this before? He told me in the white room that they had tricked him into thinking he was seeing me, and dad, and mom. Has he been thinking this whole time that it's not real? That I'm some kind of cruel trick that the demons are playing on him? He placed a hand firmly on each of his brother's shoulders. "Dude. This isn't a trick, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Sam could see Dean fighting with his emotions - and losing.

"Sammy?" Dean finally said, his voice rough from lack of use.

It was now Sam's turn to look shell-shocked. He stood before his brother, slack jawed, eyes wide. "Dean? You can speak?"

The older Winchester nodded.

"I thought… I thought we'd failed. That we'd been able to get your sight and your hearing back but that you had saved me from Lilith instead of finding out how she had taken away your speech."

Then everything came back to him. Sam in his dreams, the two of them fighting Lilith side by side, his little brother saving him from himself over and over again. "Sammy," Dean said, a statement instead of a question this time. He still fought to control his emotions, however, because he was Dean Winchester and Dean Winchester never crumbles. He desperately tried to put his game face on but, as soon as he felt Sam's arms around him, he sensed that resolve weakening. Dean struggled to get free, even as he simultaneously longed for the contact.

Sam felt his brother try to push him away but he just held him tighter. "I'm here, big brother. I've got you. I've got you."

Those three statements finally broke the dam. Dean's tears fell, his sobs shook him to his very core. Seemingly of their own accord, his arms wrapped around his brother waist and clenched at the cotton shirt at his back, his sobs muffled by Sam's shoulder. His legs buckled and the arms around him tightened, taking his weight until they were sitting on the floor, with Dean laying sideways across his little brother's legs, his head resting in the crook of Sam's arm. "I'm sorry, Sammy. Don't… leave," Dean found himself pleading. "Please, just don't… leave…."

"I'm not going anywhere, big brother," Sam soothed, rocking his brother slightly, running his hand through his hair. "I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

And, as Sam cradled even closer to his chest, Dean realized he completely believed him. He finally believed his torture was over… and the healing had begun.

THE END