Being in a room with someone who was alternating between pretending they didn't exist, and glaring antagonistically at them should have been unsettling to Sam and Emily, but it wasn't. They were determined to save their brother, even though he took great exception to their concern, even though he fought them every step of the way, even though he was acting up. In fact, they both secretly admitted to themselves, they liked that Dean was being impossible. It made the reality of his obvious frailty less scary. Without verbal communication between them, they cleared the table, put things away and sat down with their laptops to continue their research. It was an hour before the silence was broken.
"Hey, look, there's an occult shop at the very edge of the town." Emily whispered to Sam.
"So?" he whispered back.
"I was thinking maybe we could drop by there, make some enquiries. Maybe we'll find or learn something. The worst that can happen is we waste a few minutes talking to a clueless shop owner. If we leave now, we'll get there before they close." Emily knew she was clutching at straws, but sometimes flimsy straws covered a sturdy plank that you could grab and float on. No lead was really useless.
Sam considered the information and figured it wouldn't hurt. "I'll go check it out."
"Nuh uh, I'm coming too!" Emily interjected and when Sam looked like he was going to object, she continued quickly, "Hey, I'm not going back on my word, we agreed the staying back from the hunt deal starts at the end of today, so I have the whole day today. Besides, there's no oxy yet, and what are the chances he'll use the bathtub in our absence and drown?"
Sam glanced over at Dean. Though his eyes had been closed for a while now, his stiff posture was indication that he was awake. "Fine," Sam agreed with a smile. Gosh, Emily would have been great at finding loopholes in contracts.
"Awesome!" Emily cheered, and for some reason, that suddenly reminded Sam of her age. Nearly mirroring her actions from the morning, she rushed to fill a cup with water, placed it and a loosely capped bottle of 7up on the night stand next to Dean's bed and placed her laptop beside him. She tentatively hovered her hand over him then withdrew it without touching him. She looked down at him for a moment, with an unreadable look in her eyes. Then she turned away quickly, fussing with her braid. Sam who was going through the weapon's bag pretended not to have noticed. He shook his head at his siblings' quirks.
He threw the impala's keys at her and she snatched them neatly out of the air. "Go ahead, start her up. I need to use the bathroom." She left, psyched at the chance to drive. He waited a beat until he was sure she was not lingering at the door. "Hey Dean?"
"I'm really not in the heart to heart mood, Sam!" Dean knew better than to pretend he was sleeping.
Sam was not going to leave without saying his piece. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? What I said … it came out all wrong. What I meant is that your pain is debilitating to us … not just you, but me and Rae too. Even if you won't admit it, we know you're hurting, Dean; we're your siblings and we know you, and it's damn hard to concentrate on anything when we're so focused on your suffering. Right now, Rae's nerves are shot to hell because she's in her head all the time trying to calculate just how much pain you're in. To be honest, so am I!"
He waited a beat, to see whether Dean would react, then continued in a thick, clogged voice; a voice filled with unshed tears. "We are trying to save you Dean, but we need your help. And right now, the best way you can help, is by not being in pain. And frankly, by not being a pain! Please, let us do this for you. Please."
Dean opened his eyes and looked at Sam. He saw the truth in his brother's eyes, and realised then that he was being selfish. His pain wasn't just his. His siblings were hurting too. Not physically like him, but they were in pain. His martyrdom might cost three lives, not just his own. Besides, he realized with a pang, he didn't want to die. Fuck it, he was too young.
"I hate this, Sam. I hate being useless."
"You're not useless, Dean. You'll never be useless, certainly not to me, and not to Rae. No matter what. You're our brother! And that alone is enough!" Sam spoke forcefully.
"Yeah, I'm your big brother. I should be looking out for you guys, not the other way around."
"Well, when you get better, you can invoke your big brother rights and go right back to being obnoxious!" Sam laughed.
"I'm not obnoxious!" Dean pouted, but his pain filled eyes were twinkling with mirth. Sam reached for the pill bottle and shook out four for Dean. They were running low on the Tylenol as well. Dean swallowed them, looked searchingly at Sam then nodded. "I trust you, and I trust that crazy punk out there, so yeah, I'll allow the oxy."
Sam sighed in relief.
"But every stupid thing I might do or say under its influence is never to be fodder for any jokes, or any conversation!" Dean added sternly.
"What happens under the influence of oxy, will forever remain a secret." Sam crossed his heart, then after a beat, he laughed, "Besides, I have enough material from all the times you've been drunk!"
"Oh, don't go there! I have a few happy tales from our childhood!"
"You wouldn't dare! And anyway, you did more stupid things than I did!"
"That is still up for debate!"
"No, it isn't. Rae voted ... you lost. Speaking of which, could you try to remember that she's rather expressive? That for her, physical contact is comforting?"
"I know that!" Dean objected. He might not be one for giving hugs, but he understood Emily's need for physical contact and accommodated it graciously. Truthfully, he didn't just accommodate it, he enjoyed it. With her, he could be a little touchy-feely and not get called girly for it. It was great. Wins all around.
"Well, then remember it works both ways for her. That she gets as much comfort from giving as she does from receiving. You know, before she left, she reached out to touch you, but withdrew her hand. She didn't know I noticed, but I did. She needs you, Dean. But she doesn't know how to approach you, because you're not exactly laying out the welcome mat."
"She's never been afraid to initiate contact before!" Dean said in disbelief.
"She is now. I don't know why, but I'm guessing it's the same reason she's less touchy-feely when she's feeling vulnerable. You might have to make the first move."
"Fine. I'll get all girly, but I'm not using the tub!" as usual, Dean deflected.
"First, Rae isn't all that girly, and even if she were, she'd still be awesome. Secondly, there's nothing wrong with being girly, especially if said person is a girl, third, tubs are not just for girls and fourth, you do realise there's a shower head if showering as opposed to soaking means so much to you!" Sam couldn't help laughing. "But hey, don't knock the tub until you've tried it. Remember how much you despised frozen yoghurt?"
"What are you talking about? I still do!" Dean tried to glower.
"No, you don't!" Sam snickered. "You make Rae get the large cup and mooch off of her!"
Apparently, Sam had noticed! All knowing little bugger that he was! There was obviously no need for Dean to keep up the pretence now. "Well, why do they have to serve it in such girly cups?" he groused. "It's a conspiracy, I tell you. To make us guys miss out on awesome things. Have you ever tasted an appletini?"
Sam shook his head, wondering where this was going.
"You should try it one day. It's awesome! Just make sure you're with a girl for cover!"
"You're such a dork, you know that?" Sam laughed.
"If by that you mean the coolest guy you know, then yes I am! You'd better get going before Rae drives off without you."
Sam knew that was Dean's way of telling him he'd left their sister alone long enough and that he was worried. He successfully fought the urge to ask Dean whether he would be okay, and instead told him where he and Emily were headed. Then he left his brother's side.
They got to the shop and for a full minute just stared at it. If the shop owner had been going for a sombre look, he or she had not done a good job of it, at least not on the outside. The exterior was painted black and red, but the effect was more cartoonish than mysterious. Sam and Emily were still snickering when they got inside. The interior however, made up for the outside. The somberness had been achieved perfectly on the inside. It was gloomy and dark and brought to mind a funeral. It made them feel like whispering.
There was no one behind the counter. Emily elbow poked Sam to prompt him to call out. Instead he poked back, and mouthed 'you do it!' and they went back and forth until Sam sighed and called out.
"A minute!" a female voice called out.
The woman, who was aged anywhere between twenty and thirty, was so different from what they'd been expecting. She was an explosion of colour. Her bright, straight-out-of-a-bottle red hair had a huge blue bow in it, she was wearing a yellow dress with green polka dots, a blue sweater embroidered with mustard colored flowers and bracelets of every conceivable colour. Emily resisted the impulse to lean over the counter to see what colour of shoes she was wearing.
"Hi, I'm Mabel, how can I help you?" the woman chirped. Sam and Emily were so thrown by Mabel's outfit and her chirpiness, especially in contrast to the shop's somberness, that neither spoke, they just stood there staring at her. It was a wonder she did not get offended or annoyed. "Are you guys looking for something? I was about to close up!" she prompted them.
"Eer, yeah. Information actually." Sam answered.
"Oh, shucks, I don't think I'll be much help there! I'm keeping store for my mom! She broke her leg and I was free for a couple of weeks! But you can still ask! If it's more than I can handle, I can relay the question to her and you can come back!"
Emily wondered whether Mabel ever spoke a sentence, as opposed to exclaiming.
"Okay. Umm, we're writing a paper on curses and we were wondering if there is anything like a symbol-less curse." Sam revealed.
"Symbol-less?"
"Yeah, like is it possible to curse a complete stranger without meeting them? Without using an image or anything of theirs? And without them using a cursed object or living in a cursed house? You get my drift?" Emily elaborated.
"Wow, you guys are really writing a weird paper! I have no clue about curses! Thought you were going to ask about a trinket or something! I guess I'll have to ask mom!"
"Would it be possible to meet her instead?" Sam asked excitedly. When Mabel looked like a person suddenly faced with a crazed stalker, Sam continued, employing the puppy eyes this time. "I mean it would really be awesome to meet her, and pick her brain. Besides, geek princess here, might think up some new questions tonight!" he finished with a long suffering sigh.
Emily played along by rolling her eyes. "Top marks take work, nerd king!"
Mabel laughed, a happy tinkling laugh that seemed to get absorbed by the room. "Mom will just love you two! She's always trying to get me interested in this stuff, but it's just too dark for me! I'm a photographer. So yeah, I'll ask her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
"Thank you!" Sam smiled winningly. Emily nodded earnestly as well.
"Gosh, you two are cute! If I hadn't left my gear behind, I'd photograph you." Mabel said regretfully.
"Umm, thanks … I guess?" Sam said as they backed away and left the shop.
"Cute? Jeez! Two guesses what she photographs?" Emily groused once they were in the car.
"Babies, puppies and flowers!" Sam said in a huffy voice. "I don't know why you're so mad, you're a girl. It's okay for you to be cuuuute!" he said the last word in a cooing voice. "I'm a guy! I can't be cute!"
Emily looked at her brother. His exasperation was hilarious. Even though he was crazy tall, she would categorize Sam's looks as boyishly handsome. His shaggy hair and a yet to harden baby-face lent credence to that observation. Also, he was still a little gangly and awkward and he tended to walk with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He didn't yet exude that rugged, alpha male quality that Dean projected so effortlessly. But, there was something about Sam's shoulders that hinted to the powerful man he would become with time. He was his father's son after all. But for now, she supposed he was cute! She'd never tell him that though; for self preservation reasons obviously! It wasn't wise to poke a giant, however gentle he came off.
A smile began playing on her lips. Her disgruntlement gone in the face of Sam's. "Guess who you sound like right now?" she teased him.
"Who?" his voice was still huffy.
"Dean!" Emily giggled. Dean felt it was the biggest insult to be called cute. Handsome, good-looking, attractive, even gorgeous, were all welcome. Cute? Not so much!
"Oh good heavens, no! Dean's so vain!" Sam laughed, realising he was indeed acting like his brother.
"I know!"
They fell about laughing. Neither acknowledging the underlying panic in their laughter.
In the motel room, Dean was in the same position his siblings had left him. He'd never disclose it, but he hated being alone more than anything else. He'd even take hovering, smothering, fussy attention over being alone. So he felt the void as soon as the door closed behind Sam. He desperately missed his siblings.
He knew not many people found a best friend and confidant in their brother, or a good friend and companion in a sister they'd known less than a year, and he knew how lucky he was. But he was also aware of the alienation this brought. Without Sam and Emily he felt lost. And if he was being completely truthful, he felt a little incomplete. Of course with the way he carried on, they probably never realised how much he depended on them, how much he actually needed them. And truthfully, he preferred they never realised this.
With a sigh, he turned onto his side and curled into a tight ball, willing the drugs to work and when they finally did, he fell asleep, and had terrible dreams in which Sam and Emily died instead of him, leaving him alone and lost and purposeless.
From the shop, Sam and Emily drove to the hospital and scoped it out, finding a relatively risk free point of entry. Then they waited for darkness to fall and the staff numbers to reduce. Both were worried and pensive. They wondered whether they were doing enough to save their brother. Dean would be moving heaven and hell if the tables were turned.
"I liked Mabel's dress!" Emily said suddenly. Desperate to break the cloying silence but not ready to discuss the real issue.
"What?" the disbelief exploded from Sam. He was painfully thankful for the broken silence.
"Not the whole outfit! That was a little on the outrageous side, but the dress was pretty!"
"It was so yellow!" he was aghast.
"It was so happy!" she said.
When Dean had told her to pack appropriately for a hunt and not a road trip, she had done so effectively. She'd carried all the jeans she owned … four pairs all dark blue, only her dark long sleeved tees … six, ten graphic tees, seven tanks - four grey, three black, two sweat shirts - one charcoal and one black, and two grey sweat pants. Her three jackets were black, brown and olive green. Along the way, she'd bought two chiffon blouses for role playing, both were black. Discounting her pjs which were purple, blue and pink, She had no happy clothes. She missed happy clothes. She missed colour.
"How can a dress be happy?" Sam was curious.
"Well, not the dress really, but how it makes you feel. You know, there are clothes you wear that just seem to boost your spirit. They make you happy."
"It must be a girl thing then. Jess used to say something very similar."
Emily held her breath. Sam rarely spoke about his late girlfriend, Jessica. Emily knew the subject was still raw for him, the death too recent. She too rarely spoke about her parents, so she understood his reticence. She waited for him to reveal more, but it seemed that the throwaway comment was all he was going to say about his lost love.
"You do realise wearing such a dress would draw too much attention, right?" he said instead.
"What? You think people don't notice us when we come into a town?" Emily's voice was incredulous. "In a black muscle car no less! Besides, you and Dean are like five hundred miles tall! I highly doubt wearing a yellow dress would draw any more attention to us, than we already get."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, guess you're right. And by the way, you're rather unforgettable too!"
"It would be hard not to be when I hang with you two!" Emily smiled.
"No, I meant in your own right!" Sam said.
"Don't worry, I wasn't fishing for a compliment, Sam!" Emily laughed softly, "And I'm not trying to be reverse modest, or whatever, but with you and Dean, the attention I would have gotten is now spread out amongst the three of us, and not concentrated on just me, and aside from the monsters we hunt that try to kill us, and the few jerks we meet, that attention is mainly civil, is never really negative, nor overwhelming."
"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Sam was honestly puzzled.
"Okay, let me see if I can explain better. I've been this tall since I was 13!"
"Whoa! I'm glad I didn't know you then!"
"See?" Emily said without any judgement or bitterness, but Sam still coloured when he realised how insensitive his comment really was. "I hit my growth spurt at twelve and it seemed like I grew every single day, until about four months after my thirteenth birthday. Just imagine for a second how difficult it was for me then, between the other kid's comments, and my own puberty blues! I was asked nearly every day whether my parents climbed a magic beanstalk to get me, or whether they used a reverse shrink ray or something on me! All that teasing did make me remarkably thick skinned though, so I'm perversely glad for it. I don't think I'd be as secure in myself now if I hadn't been the class giraffe then! Still, I hated the attention then and I still do. Being a tall girl isn't easy. I may not be the tallest girl out there, but I'm still pretty tall for a girl, and some people, guys especially, take that like a personal affront. Like I grew tall just to annoy them! Or to entertain them! But you know what, that's their problem not mine. Then there are those people who feel duty bound to point out how tall I am, as if I'm somehow not aware of it and need to be informed! Anyway, the comments no longer get to me really, but they do get old; the basketball ones in particular make me want to gouge out eyes. However, when I'm with you guys, I don't get as many annoying comments as I used to. I guess it's because you're both taller than I am, so I almost look normal next to you! It's such a relief, you have no idea!"
Sam felt terrible. He'd never even considered that Emily might have self-image hangups. He commiserated with her. Because of Dean's protection, Sam who'd been so small, had only been occasionally bullied as a child. Still, those few ordeals had impacted enough for him to know how terrible it was to be picked on because of one's size or differences. He'd been lucky to have Dean, and to have outgrown his smallness. Emily hadn't had the protection of a sibling, and she still stood out because of her height. "Is that why you don't wear heels?"
Emily smiled. "I don't wear heels because I can't walk in them. Besides, I've always been partial to boots. When I was a kid, I'd wear nothing but hi-top chuck taylors! Didn't matter where we were going or how formal the occasion was. It didn't matter either that I only wore dresses, and tutus and fairy skirts!"
Sam laughed at the picture she painted. "I take it you weren't a fan of jeans even then!"
"Nope. In fact the only concession I made to pants was rompers. I did have a couple of jean overalls, but those stayed at the back of my closet unless I absolutely had to wear them. I was the girliest tomboy ever! It was my parents' idea to make me wear tights all the time, because I could pretty much be counted on to be hanging upside down or tumbling head over heels or sitting pretzel legged or even on some other kid's stomach, and it wouldn't do for my bloomers to be on display." she laughed fondly as she remembered her childhood.
Now it was Sam's turn to pause, hoping Emily would say more about her parents. She didn't.
"I was a tiny kid. I wore Dean's hand-me-downs until I hit my growth spurt. I was sixteen. I topped Dean by an inch when I was seventeen and I bet he was hoping that would be it." Sam said softly, deciding to share his own growing hangup. After a thoughtful pause, he added, "I don't think he'll ever forgive God for my three extra inches!"
Emily snorted with laughter.
"You should have seen how he used to lord his superior height over me when we were younger! When I topped his height, he stayed in denial for about a year, and I think he's currently still at the shock stage!" Sam grinned.
"Figures why he calls you gigantor!" Emily wiped away tears of laughter. "Anyone ever ask you whether your parents fed you magic gro?"she asked with a grin.
Sam exploded with laughter, only managing to wheeze out his answer. "No! What would you say when asked?"
"Oh, usually I just ignored them, but if I was in a bad mood, or if someone kept on prodding, I'd snap, say no, and insinuate that their parents had shrunk them!" Emily said with a twinkle in her eye.
"Classic!" Sam approved.
The silence returned, bringing their fears back with it. This time it was Sam who broke it.
"Why didn't you touch him?"
"What?"
"Before we left, you reached out to touch Dean, but you didn't. You've never been awkward about your tactility before. What's up with that?"
"Oh, you saw that?" she pressed her lips into a thin line. "I don't know. I … I don't want things to change between us because he's sick, but I know if I reach out to him now without his permission, he'll feel like I'm treating him like a child! Like I think he's weak!"
Sam certainly understood Emily's confusion. Dean was complex and he could be extremely sensitive about perceived patronization. And this being the first time Emily was seeing Dean vulnerable, she didn't know what to do.
"I know dealing with a sick Dean might look like a challenge, but it isn't really. Just be yourself. Treat him the way you always do. If you start acting out of character … doing things for him or saying things that you don't usually do or say, he's going to get mad and baulk. If he's being a jerk, tell him off, or ignore him just like you always do, don't defer to him just because he's not well. But most of all, don't cut out physical contact with him. I know he needs it as much as you do."
"You know what, he is so complicated!" Emily complained after considering Sam's words for a while.
Sam laughed. "This from someone who is all hugs and kisses, until they're sick or vulnerable? You and him are almost alike! Needing comforting once in a while doesn't make you weak, you know!"
"I ...," she began hotly, intending to deny her reluctance to being comforted, then she realised he was right. She tended to distance herself when she wasn't feeling a hundred percent, because she didn't want to be considered weak. "Guess you're right!" she finished ruefully.
More silence.
"Do you think we're doing enough?" she finally decided to broach the subject they had been expertly skirting around. "For Dean I mean?"
"I don't know!" Sam whispered. After what felt like forever, he added hesitantly, "I think we should call Bobby and maybe dad."
When it got sufficiently dark, they breached the insubstantial hospital security. It was really a matter of timing their entry and their exit precisely. They got Percocet, more Tylenol, antibiotics and other things to replenish their first aid box.