Hey guys! Sorry for the long update, again. I've been really busy lately but hopefully that will change soon. I won't keep you waiting any longer so here's chapter ten. I hope you like it.
disclaimer:I own nothing but my imagination.
Chapter Ten
I wake up in a cold sweat, the same reoccurring nightmare running rampant through my mind. The smell of blood still lingers in the air as I jolt up in my bed, frantically glancing around the room for any signs of an intruder. My breath comes in shallow gasps and I bring a shaking hand to my head, slowly running it through my hair. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head violently.
"It's not real." I choke out. "It's not real."
"Dean?" My heart stops when I realize that I'm not alone. I spin around so that I'm turned in the direction the voice came from and I end up face to face with Sam. Instinctively I back away from the close quarters with lightening speed, only stopping when I'm on the other side of the bed. My brother gives me a wary look.
"Calm down, it's just me." I roll my eyes at his words, the pity evident in his voice.
"Don't you know it's rude to watch people sleep, jeez." My lip twitches up in a fake smirk trying to distract him from asking about the mini freak out that he definitely just saw. Unfortunately it does little to quell his curiosity and he cocks his head to the side.
"Are you ok?" A scoff escapes me at his question. Do I look alright? But I don't say that of course, instead I play it off.
"I'm great. How are you Sammy?" He narrows his eyes.
"Dean you know what I meant." I shrug my shoulders and give him an innocent look.
"It's nothing." Sam glares.
"Seriously? You just woke up in a panic mumbling 'it's not real' and you wanna tell me that it's nothing?" I nod.
"Pretty much." I frown when he continues to stare at me. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it." With a grin I plop back down on the mattress, pulling the sheets up as I do so, and reach to turn off the lamp that had been left shining when I'd fallen asleep earlier. There's a few beats of silence before Sam speaks.
"You need to talk about it." I don't even have to guess what he's talking about.
"No I don't." I say as I roll over in bed so my back is facing him.
"Dean, you need to get it off your chest. The longer you keep it bottled up the more it's gonna haunt you."
"Good night Sam." I effectively cut him off and relief floods me when I hear his sigh as he settles back into the chair he's been sitting in. Slowly I even out my breathing so that it comes out in a regular rhythm, feigning sleep. I refuse to close my eyes because the second I do I'll be sucked back into that nightmare but it will at least ease Sam's worry if he thinks I'm passed out.
After a few minutes I hear him stand up and leave the room, thinking that I've drifted off. What he doesn't know is that there won't be any sleep for me, not for a long time. I can't afford to let my guard down, not when my dad is still a threat. I'm not gonna tell him that of course, I'll let him think that I'm well rested, no use in worrying him anymore. I won't be sleeping any time soon, the nightmares will make sure of that.
Four days. That's how long I've been fighting to stay awake, fighting to keep my guard up. Every time I close my eyes I see my dad, bloodied knuckles and a furious glint in his eye. My mind replays every blow, every slice as the man I trusted most attacks me over and over again.
I've managed to keep up the appearance that I'm sleeping at night by not standing close enough to Bobby or Sam that they see the way I sway slightly when I walk, or the dark circles under my eyes. It's worked pretty well for the past couple of days but now that I've been awake for over ninety-six hours straight, it getting harder and harder to hide.
As I stare into the bathroom mirror I can't help but wince at the sight. The skin on my face is pulled taunt from days of barely eating and sleep deprivation, making me look ten years older. The dark circles under my eyes look nearly black against my tired features and I know that sooner or later the "it's been a rough week" excuse is gonna stop working. My gaze roams down to my stomach where I can see the outline of the bandage through the thin fabric of my t-shirt and I frown.
I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly pull it up towards my chin, careful not to brush against the tender flesh of my abdomen. My eyes land on the black and blue roadmap of injuries that peek out underneath the bandages, bruises that should've nearly faded away by now instead stand out in stark contrast to my deathly pale skin. A sigh escapes me and I let the shirt fall back into place. As I continue to criticize my haggard appearance, there's a knock at the door and Sam's voice echoes from the hall.
"Dean, are you almost done in there?" I can hear the impatience in his tone and I quickly give myself another once over before pulling open the door to meet my brother.
"Yeah I'm good." My voice comes out slightly strained and weak from the lack of sleep and I quickly clear my throat, praying that it wasn't as noticeable as it sounded. Unfortunately for me it doesn't escape Sam's attention and a concerned look immediately overtakes his face.
"Hey are you ok?" I can't deal with this right now, maybe I can just play it off.
"Of course I am." His eyebrows knit together and he shakes his head.
"You look like crap, man." He says motioning to the bags under my eyes. "I thought you said you were feeling better."
"I am." Its obvious that he doesn't believe me.
"Then why do you look like you haven't slept in days?" I roll my eyes, ignoring the nausea that follows the action.
"Sammy I'm fine, it's just been..."
"A rough week." He finishes for me. I flash what I hope is a convincing grin and he narrows his eyes. For a moment I think he's gonna keep pushing, but his reluctant sigh proves otherwise. My brother moves to the side slightly so I can exit the doorway. Just before I have the chance to leave, his hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to him.
"You're sure you're ok?" I let out an exasperated exhale and nod.
"I'm fineeee." I draw out the word in annoyance and shake out of his grip. Without another word I head for the kitchen, completely intending to snag one of the burgers Sam and Bobby had started keeping in the fridge since my appetite had shown back up. The second I have the delicious food in my hand I toss it in the microwave and wait for it to heat up.
Soon the buzzer sounds and I hastily pull out the cheeseburger before taking a large bite, grinning at the familiar taste. I pull up one of the chairs at Bobby's table and plop down ready to enjoy the rest of my meal.
As I sit at the table, my lunch finished, I lean back in my chair comfortably. Exhaustion tugs at the edges of my mind but I refuse to give in, I'll only wake up in a few minutes from a nightmare anyway. The images from that night are still seared into my brain and I don't think I can handle reliving them again, no matter how much I want to get some rest.
Dean
The hairs on the back of my neck bristle as the familiar voice breaks the silence and immediately I whirl around to face the source of the sound. I frantically search for the intruder, but I'm completely alone in the empty room.
Dean
I spin in the direction of the voice, it sounds closer this time. My eyes roam over the kitchen looking for any signs that someone else is here with me but I find none. My muscles tense in anticipation as I wait for the owner of the voice to show his face. Once again my father's baritone accent floats through the air.
I'm here Dean. I'm coming for you.
My heart hammers in my chest at the statement and I glance around wildly trying desperately to find out where my dad is hiding. I sprint to the doorway, checking both ends of the hall for signs of the man but I come up empty. With shaking knees I dash down the hall and into the living room, my muscles tensing in anticipation of the visitor whose voice echoes in my ears. I go to turn the corner but, due to my panicked frenzy, I don't see my brother standing directly in my path. By the time I notice him, it's to late.
With a shout I go barreling into the giant and send both of us tumbling to the floor. Sam's elbow drives into my stomach on impact, right into my stitches, and I feel all the air rush out of my lungs. He stares at me with wide eyes for a moment but he quickly recovers and helps me to my feet, careful to avoid all of my injuries. After a few minutes I'm able to catch my breath and my brother places a hand on my shoulder.
"Dean, what's going on?" I look at him in surprise.
"You didn't hear him?" Judging by the blank stare that he's giving me, I already know the answer.
"Hear who?" The lack of sleep must be getting to me, I'm freaking hearing things. With a sigh I raise a weary hand to my face and shake my head.
"No one." Sam cocks his head to the side.
"Are you ok? You seem really out of it." I brush his concern off and nod.
"Yeah I'm fine Sammy. Just a little wound up I guess." I offer him a grin and he takes a step back, removing his hand from my shoulder in the process.
"You're sure you're ok?"
"Yes Mom, I'm just great." He narrows his eyes. "I promise." My brother puts his hands up in surrender and shakes his head.
"If you say so." I brush past him and continue into the living room, discretely giving the space a once over before taking a seat on the couch. I can feel Sam's gaze on my back and I know he's suspicious, the mini freak out I just had didn't help that much. I just hope I can keep this charade up long enough to deal with this so that I don't have to keep lying to him. No matter how hard I try he's eventually gonna figure what's going on, but by then all of this will be over. I hope
So that's it for chapter Ten! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if this chapter's kinda short but this seemed like a good stopping point. I'd like to thank everyone who's read or reviewed this story, it means so much. I really appreciate all of you guys and I'd love it if y'all would keep telling me your thoughts on the story!