Disclaimer: I do not own the Winchesters, their friends, their enemies (except Jefferson Watts - he's mine), or their property. If you recognise something, it's probably not mine
Day Nine
Bobby slips back into the room quietly, not wanting to disturb the Winchester brothers, to collect his belongings. He's not going anywhere. He knows Sam isn't ready to handle this on his own just yet, and besides Sam isn't 100% okay himself either. Bobby thinks he's going to be needed to pick up the pieces of more than one hunter before the week is out. No, he's staying put but the boys need space now.
So he's got himself another room. One that's as close as he could get but still three doors down. But Bobby's happy with that. Sam can always call him. Hell, he just needs to raise his voice and Bobby will be there like a shot.
A smile slips on to his face as he surveys the scene that greets him when he steps through the door. It looks like Dean has finally fallen into a peaceful sleep. Sam is propped up against the wall next to his bed, one hand resting on Dean's arm and his head leaning on the mattress next to his brother's head. Exhaustion has finally got the better of him and he's snoring gently.
Bobby can't help but check Dean's temperature, which he's relieved to find is much reduced from earlier, and his lower legs. The bruising on his face and chest is far more pronounced now but Bobby's not concerned by that. It's to be expected after a few days and in a few more days they will have faded to a dirty yellow he muses.
He turns his attention to Sam, frowning when he takes in the dark circles under his eyes and the lank hair falling into his face. He stops himself putting a hand out to the younger man, not wanting to disturb his much needed sleep. He reaches over to the other bed and drags the blanket off it. Gently covering Sam with it, he nods in satisfaction – he can't do anything else here for now – and leaves a note informing the boys where he is.
As he leaves, he takes one last look back at the two sleeping men and wonders why life always seems to deal them the worst hand.
*****
Somewhere in the back of his consciousness Dean hears a door closing and he can't stop the brief flare of panic that engulfs him. He jolts upright, instantly awake, registering a hand on his arm and before he knows it, a muted cry of fear has escaped his lips. He throws his arm up violently, throwing off the offending limb, and scrambles backwards as far and as fast as he's able to.
His heart sinks when he encounters a wall and he swivels his head round to see if there's an exit. His legs seem to be tangled up in something though and even if he could see a way out, he can't get up. The fear he felt is rapidly turning to terror and he's kicking out with both legs, feeling trapped and not achieving anything but he has to be doing something.
Then there are hands on his face, gentle yet firm, and his head is being turned slowly back to the room. He grabs hold of the wrists and tries to forces the hands away from him but he's still pathetically weak and nothing happens. He tries shaking his head in an effort to dislodge them but all that does is remind him of the brutal headache he has.
Then he hears a voice and it's a voice he knows. The panic subsides and he blinks rapidly, following the wrists to arms to a face.
"Sam?"
*****
Sam couldn't be more relieved when Dean finally calms enough to recognise him. His brother's struggles stop instantly and Sam is able to extricate his legs from the comforter which he's managed to tie in knots around his ankles. He pretends not to hear the sigh of relief from the older man and moves back up to look his brother in the eye.
He's a little worried by the fear hiding at the edges of Dean's eyes but he supposes it's still early days and until Dean talks him through what happened there's not a lot he can do about it. If there's a particular trigger then he'll find it and get rid of it.
In the meantime, he's just happy to see his brother recognise him.
He leaves Dean's side long enough to get the next round of antibiotics, stopping only to read Bobby's note. Handing the pills to Dean with a glass of water he ignores the shaking hand that accepts them until the water threatens to spill over the edge. Gently taking the glass he helps Dean as best he can.
After the pills and water, Sam decides his brother needs some form of nourishment. He's not daft enough to suppose Dean is ready for burgers yet but he does need to eat something. He casts his eye around the room, hoping to spot some nutritious yet tasty snack to get Dean's system working again. He knows he's unlikely to find anything but sometimes miracles happen.
Yeah, right. Who does he think he's kidding? He smiles at the irony of his own thoughts turning back to Dean who's watching him quizzically. He pats him gently on the arm and tells him he's going to call Bobby, get him to bring something to eat. It's sad, he thinks, that Dean's only reaction is a slow, unenthusiastic nod.
*****
Bobby answers his phone before the first ring ends. Sam's request fills him with hope and positivity. If Sam thinks Dean is ready to eat things must be looking up. He wonders what the best thing would be for the injured man. If it were down to him he'd try something dry first, maybe a little toast, and then if that stays down something like a banana. He knows Dean will mock his choices but he really doesn't want to be the one who lets Dean starve after everything else he's been through.
As he heads out to the store he looks back to the motel room, wondering what conversation could possibly be taking place in there. A part of him wants to be there but a bigger part of him just hopes Dean is finding the security to open up, to let Sam help him.
But he also worries that Sam may not be as okay as he makes out. Because Sam had to do some pretty drastic things to get his brother back and while he would do it all over again without hesitating, Bobby knows Sam isn't someone to let things go easily. Sam has a conscience. Bobby is concerned that he's going to put his own feelings aside for Dean and Bobby knows no good will come of that.
So Bobby needs to be ready to hold Sam together while he puts his brother back together.
*****
As Dean watches Sam make the call, he decides the time has come to put his mask back on. He's back home. Sam is here, Bobby will be back soon and all is right with the world.
Except it's not. Not by a long shot.
Dean knows Sam is going to ask questions he doesn't want to answer, doesn't even want to think about. Sam is going to want 'chick flick' moments and 'touchy feely crap' and Dean isn't ready for that. Doesn't think he'll ever be ready for that. He wants to pack his bags and get the hell out of here. Except he doesn't have the strength to pack his bags yet, let alone drag them to the Impala and drive away.
So he does the next best thing. He shuts down. He tries not to think about the week just gone. He turns the conversation back on Sam. Where has Sam been? How long has Bobby been here? Is Sam hurt? Has Sam been looking after himself? Anything to stop his brother asking what happened.
Turns out, Sam is happy to avoid the subject. Dean wonders if that's good or bad and decides that, on balance, it's probably not a good thing. It means Sam either already knows, which makes Dean cringe, or he thinks it's so bad bringing it up is going to throw Dean into a catatonic state of shock.
So, in the end, it's Dean who brings it up, which takes them both by surprise.
*****
Bobby walks through the door just in time to hear Dean's question. It doesn't take a genius to work out that Sam wasn't expecting to be asked who took Dean, especially not by Dean himself. He looks relieved to see Bobby and the older hunter wishes he had a simple answer for them.
But he can't help on this one because, in all that time, Sam never once told him who Jefferson Watts was. Bobby is almost as anxious as Dean to hear Sam's explanation but one look at the boy and he decides now is not the time for confession, however good it's supposed to be for the soul. Sam's face has paled and Bobby realises he's assumed Dean knew who had him.
For a minute he thinks Sam is going to pass out and he belatedly wonders how much sleep he's actually had. He steps forward, making his presence known, hoping Dean will let it drop for the time being.
But Dean is like a dog with a bone and the question is out there now, can't be taken back. Bobby sighs and makes himself as comfortable as he can, watching both Winchester boys as Sam plants himself on his bed. For one ludicrous minute Bobby thinks it's like getting ready for a bedtime story, although it's doubtful the tale Sam is about to tell will help Dean sleep well tonight.
*****