A.N.: A huge thanks to Kaz for beta'reaing. All mistakes are mine.
Anne, I couldn't thank you personally, so I'm doing it this way. Thank you so much for your lovely feedback. It means a lot :)
Intently Dean watched his brother as Sam looked at the hospital's tv. He knew that Sam wasn't really seeing what was being screened on the hospital's in house tv. He looked to be a thousand miles away, totally oblivious to what was happening around him. Like he was listening to something only he was privy to.
Dean knew the feeling well. It was all too easy to get lost in your own thoughts while trapped in the drabness of a hospital room. For this, he was glad that Sam had convinced him to stay the night at the motel – otherwise he would have gone nuts by now.
Dean would've loved to just watch the old action movie from the 60's together with Sam, making smug comments about the huge plot holes and bad stunt effects. But just like Sam, he wasn't able to keep his mind on the movie.
He'd planned to talk with Sam as soon as his brother woke up. That had been over an hour ago and still Dean hadn't found the courage to say what he wanted to say. Instead he rambled on about one random subject after the next.
"I could get us some pie." He cleared his throat. "I heard they have some awesome pie in the cafeteria downstairs. Much better than the coffee they sell."
"Dean, I ate all the cookies. Give me a break, okay?" Sam groaned.
Dean held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, I just thought I'd ask." He had went to buy the cookies after Sam had woken up. It had been his first attempt at avoiding his confession time before his rambling had started.
He really sucked at talking.
They fell into silence again, Sam closing his eyes and Dean tapping his fingers nervously on his leg.
He cursed at his inability to find the right words. How hard could it be? Confessing to Sam, opening up about his own guilt, get it all out in the open and then have Sam doing the same. It'd seemed so easy when he'd planned it a few hours ago.
Only now, he just couldn't get the right words to leave his mouth.
"I'm really starting to hate the color of these walls. They should give it a paint. Something yellow maybe. White is just too depressing. What do you think?" He inwardly kicked himself. Where had that come from?
Sam raised a brow. "You really want to talk about the wall's color?"
Dean exhaled heavily before he replied. "Not really, no."
Sam looked at him, waiting for Dean to continue.
Now or never, Dean thought. "I'm sorry."
Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "What for?"
"You know … stabbing you." Dean slightly tilted his head. "I could have killed you."
Sam tensed visibly. "I was about to kill you, so I'd say you were justified." He replied dryly.
"It wasn't you who tried to kill me." Dean pointed out.
"Whatever." Sam shrugged.
"It wasn't you and I knew that. I also knew I was running out of options, but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty."
"It's okay, Dean." Sam sighed. "I forgive you." He replied with a hint of sarcasm.
"Okay." It was a start.
Dean waited a moment for Sam to say anything else, but his brother remained silent. Fine, Dean wasn't finished yet.
"I'm also sorry for putting you in that position in the first place."
Again Sam raised an eyebrow in question.
"You know, the Deal." Dean cleared his throat. Once this was over, he would never use the word Deal again. Ever!
"Wish you had thought about this before you brought me back."
"You're still pissed at me for that, huh?" Dean asked quietly.
Sam shook his head. "No, not really." He laughed quietly. It sounded too harsh and bitter to be true. "I wasn't exactly acting smarter than you."
"I always knew people were wrong when they called you the smart one. You fooled them good, Sammy." Dean grinned.
Sam gave him a small half-smile in return.
Dean took a deep breath and put on an earnest expression again. "I put us both in an impossible situation, Sam. And I'm sorry for that."
"I know why you did it." Sam replied in a hoarse voice. "No need to apologize."
Dean nodded slowly. "So you don't blame me for what happened?"
"No, of course not!" Sam stared at his brother in surprise.
"Well, then why are you blaming yourself?" Dean looked pointedly at him.
He could see how Sam immediately closed off again.
"Sam, none of what happened was your fault. You had no control over what that thing did." He tried again.
"Dean …"
"No, I want you to understand this! And I'm not gonna stop until you get it into your stubborn head! It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. It was the demon who did all those things." Dean inhaled deeply, waiting for his brother to reply.
Sam turned his head away, staring at the blank wall across from him.
"Sam." Dean waited. "Sam, look at me."
The younger Winchester closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the bile that was rising in his throat. He couldn't talk about this. Not now. There was just too much. Too much guilt, too much blame, too much of everything.
You can make it stop.
"Sam!"
Sam opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. Slowly he turned back to Dean.
"You can't go on like this, Sammy." Dean said quietly. "Don't let that bastard win. Don't let this destroy you."
Sam swallowed, tears brimming in his eyes. He wanted to break down, right now. Just let it all out, tell Dean about the nightmares, everything. Let his big brother make things right again, like he had when they were still kids. Dean had always been able to fix everything.
He just had to open his mouth and let the words out.
But there was something inside of him stopping him. He just couldn't.
We're waiting for you …
Sam closed his eyes, trying to block out the things haunting him even when he was awake. "I'm trying, Dean. Just give me some time." He said quietly after a moment.
"All the time you need, Sammy. Just don't let this thing eat you up from inside. Talk to me." Dean looked at Sam earnestly, hoping his words got through to him.
"Since when are you all for talking?"
"Since I nearly lost you twice in one year." Dean replied in a hoarse voice.
Sam didn't reply anything to that. He just wanted it to stop.
You can make it stop.
We're waiting …
--SPN--
He was standing in the shadows, watching the police officer walking down the aisle. He could see the other one staying behind, guarding the door. This amused him to no end. When would people learn that splitting up would inevitably end in their demise?
Not that staying together would save them.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the officer's thoughts. The man was angry for wasting his time, time he should spend looking for the killer of an innocent teenager.
He laughed quietly. The man wouldn't be angry for much longer.
"Don't worry, you just found him." He called out loud.
He watched the officer turn to him, saw the fear flash through his eyes before he was able to hide it. Oh, he would teach him real fear.
"Who are you?" The Officer asked.
He wanted to reply, wanted to give him his name. But suddenly the walls crumbled around him, the two officers disappeared, Caidance was gone … he was all alone. He opened his mouth to scream out his name, tell the world who he was … but something inside him stopped him.
And suddenly he didn't know who he was anymore.
The shadows started to encircle him, hands were reaching out of the dark, grabbing for him. Something was calling his name … was it his name?
"We're waiting for you …"
A moment later he could feel the hands on him. He froze. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move. There was nowhere to go. The shadows were all around him.
And then his throat constricted and he couldn't breathe anymore.
Sam's eyes snapped open and he stared horrified at the dark ceiling above. It took him a few moments before he remembered to take in air. He wrapped his arms around himself to stop the shivers racking his body.
He glanced to the side, at his still sleeping brother. This nightmare had been too short or Sam too quiet while trapped in it to wake him up. At least one of them got a decent night's sleep.
He curled his hands into fists. He wanted this to stop. Every night, every freaking night he was haunted by these nightmares. He couldn't take it anymore.
The feeling of being trapped, being surrounded by the enemy wasn't going to leave him as long as he was here.
He had to get out. Just out and away.
He had to stop it!
You can make it stop.
--SPN--
Two days had passed since Dean had tried to get Sam to open up for the first time. Bobby was standing in front of his motel room, waiting for the older Winchester to open the door. It was still early in the morning, so he probably had woken the younger man. Which wouldn't really make this more easy.
He swore he would make Sam pay for putting him in this situation. He should have known that there was a reason Sam had pushed so hard for Dean to go back to sleep at the motel the last night. He just hadn't thought the younger man could be this sneaky. He should have known better.
Eventually, the door opened and a still half-asleep Dean Winchester stood in front of him.
"Bobby, what … do you know what time it is?" He complained.
"Get dressed. Sam called. We gotta pick him up." Bobby had decided that to get over this quickly was the best way to go with it.
Dean was on immediate alert, all signs of tiredness gone. "What? What happened? Is he okay?"
"He's bored to death, apparently. He signed an AMA and is waiting for us to get him." Bobby explained.
"What the hell?" Dean stared at Bobby incredulous. His eyes narrowed. "I'm gonna kill him."
He shut the door close in front of Bobby and the older man went back to wait by his car. He wouldn't think of getting between the brothers in this. He had given up playing referee between them a long time ago. And he kinda felt just like Dean about Sam's decision to leave the hospital. The kid was still too damn weak and far from being his own self. Bobby would have preferred to see Sam stay at least as long as it would take for his physical wounds to heal.
He should have known that this was too much to ask from a Winchester.
Five minutes later, Dean came rushing out of the door, looking pissed like hell. Bobby rolled his eyes. This would be one fun ride to the hospital and back.
"Your car or mine?" He asked.
Dean only shot him an angry glare as he stomped to the Impala. Bobby had just barely enough time to follow him and close the passenger door before Dean started the engine and veered the car towards the hospital.
--SPN--
"Sam, you stupid, idiotic, son of a bitch, pain in the ass little brother! Get back into bed, now!" Dean didn't waste any time as he stormed into his brother's hospital room.
Sam obviously had expected as much; Bobby figured there was a reason the younger Winchester had called him instead of his brother. Dean had barely finished his tirade, when Sam got up from the bed, already fully dressed. He was moving slowly enough to show both men that he was still in too much pain, and steadying himself with one hand on the nightstand so not to sway too much.
"Good Morning to you too." He smirked, once he was steady again. He gave a small smile to Bobby. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem." Bobby nodded.
Dean cast him an angry glare, telling Bobby that it was best to probably stay quiet.
"You want me to wait outside?" He asked with a raised brow.
"Just stay out of this." Dean growled.
Bobby held his hands up, showing that he really wasn't planning to get in between them.
"Dean, relax. It's better this way." Sam said quietly. He grabbed his bag that contained the few things Dean had brought him for his stay in the hospital and took a few steps away from the bed.
Dean was immediately at his side, taking the bag from him and effectively stopping him from taking another step.
"Better? How is leaving the hospital not fully recovered better? Huh?" He hissed.
"The longer we stay, the bigger the chances are that someone might find us. I'd rather keep the FBI believing we're dead." Sam replied.
Dean stared at him incredulously. This hadn't even crossed his mind. "Sam, you've been in here for the better of three weeks. If they haven't caught up with us now, I don't think they will anymore. They stopped looking."
Sam sighed quietly. "I just need to get out of here. Okay?"
He looked pleadingly at his brother and Dean cursed his inability to say no to Sam when he gave him that look.
"It's too early." He tried.
"I really, really need to get out of here. Please." Sam pleaded.
He looked so desperate in that moment, that neither of the two men had the heart to decline him anything right now.
So Dean relented. "Okay, fine. But … you do what I say, you get that? You'll rest when I say, you'll eat when I say, you follow my orders without objection. Understood?"
Sam gave him a small smile. "Yes, Sir."
"Cut the sir crap. I'm not in the mood for this. And don't even try to get my sympathy when you get worse again."
"I won't." Sam looked at him so grateful that it was hard for Dean to stay angry.
"Come on then." He growled. He shouldered the bag on his left shoulder and took Sam's arm to lead him outside.
Sam opened his mouth to object (he could walk on his own!), but one look from his brother made him stay silent. He wasn't going to risk being forced back into that cursed hospital bed. It had given him enough nightmares for a lifetime.
Sam was convinced that as soon as he'd sleep in a familiar surrounding – and any motel room in this country counted as familiar by now – he would get better, be able to leave all of this behind him. And then the nightmares would stop.
It would all stop.
TBC