Chapter 11

„What happened?"

Dean sat propped up against the headboard of his bed, slightly confused eyes darting about the room, checking every corner for danger lurking there and somehow Sam suspected that his brother wasn't all that oblivious to what had happened as he wanted to let on.

"She came back…wanted her bracelet back…" …and you, but he didn't say that out loud.

"I shot her with rock salt, then burned the bracelet."

Those were the basics, mightily compacted, but the facts nonetheless.

Dean didn't look directly at him and while some of that distraught look on his face might still have been due to the rough handling he'd just received, Sam knew that that was not the main part of it. His brother sure felt guilty as hell, Sam knew that look on his face better than he would have liked. Seen it far too many times by now and it just made him angry to the point of almost snapping at him, it was so damn unfair…

"Did she hurt you?" Dean asked, his voice rough and a little hoarse, but actually, truly worried.

Stupid dwarf. How could Dean ask him if he was alright when he had been the one knocked around and nearly choked to death less than two hours ago? And then before that…

"No, Dean. She didn't touch me. Concentrated pretty hard on you though. How are you feeling?"

Keeping his voice calm and patient when inside Sam felt anything but.

"I should really get a tattoo…"

Dean's voice was calm but a little distant and for a second Sam feared that something was still wrong with his brother…something more than the obvious, anyways.

Sam leaned forward from where he was sitting on the edge of his own bed, watching Dean intently.

"You should what? What are you talking about? I asked you how you are feeling, Dean."

Again a little forced patience, but considering all his brother had been through the past couple of days, Sam thought he should at least try to pull it off for Dean's benefit.

"Yeah…should get a tattoo…right across my forehead. Reading: Dude, I'm fine. Might safe me a lot of breath having to keep saying it and you a whole bunch of time asking…"

Sam leaned back again, working hard on keeping his face straight. He alternated between wanting to punch Dean and laugh out loud…his brother seemed to bring those emotions out in him a lot lately. Always had, come to think of it. He didn't need to be asking to tell that Dean did not feel fine – far from it, but he also knew his brother well enough to see that while he was shaken and weak and confused by the past events, he wasn't in any immediate danger right now. Now that it was over…

At least he was able to talk, breathe, move just a bit without crying out in pain, without breaking out in a cold sweat. Most of the time.

Dean sure as hell was hurting, the small lines of pain around his eyes, the strong set of his jaw whenever he did as much as take a slightly deeper breath betraying his words loud and clear. But as sure as the fact that he was everything but alright, he wouldn't say anything about it. As usual.

"So, you head hurts? What about your throat?"

Sam had noticed Dean swallowing and gagging a little just now, deciding that despite his best efforts, he just couldn't stop fussing. No need to mention the ribs and his arm. Those injuries were too obvious to even try to hide and Sam saw no need even mentioning them. Not that there was anything much he could do about that…

Dean frowned disapprovingly, but didn't tell him off, for once.

"Head hurts, throat's raw…but I'll live, I guess… nothing new much, just kinda the improved version now, you know, like supersize me…"

He grinned a little, a mock version of his usual sunny self before turning his gaze away again, but Sam appreciated the effort.

"So she's gone?"

Dean didn't look at him asking it, keeping his eyes carefully shadowed by his lashes, a motion he excelled at, but Sam thought he knew which look was playing across his big brother's features right now and he really didn't care to see it live and in colour anymore. Too many times already, especially since their father's death.

"Yeah, gone for good now, Dean. Do you feel different at all?"

Dean shrugged, ran his left hand over his face, through the slight stubble on his chin and cheeks, his short hair.

"I guess…it does feel like…she's not here…not inside my head anymore, kind of…"

The tone of his voice confused Sam and he couldn't help but pull back a little, scrunching his brows together. Isabella maybe wasn't inside his head as a ghost, but most definitely she hadn't let him go completely. That would take some time and Sam knew it. But for now all that counted was that Dean was safe and they could get out of here as soon as possible.

"I wanted to call out…you know, wake you up. But she wouldn't let me…thought you would never get your ass in gear there…"

"Yeah well…seems like you did wake me somehow… I had a vision again. Saw you on the floor with her all over you. Only you weren't in the room but down the shaft again… Don't know how or why, but when I woke up I found you on the floor and everything was just like in the vision, only the surroundings were different. It was almost like that vision before, that night out at the mansion, when I found you. I guess you did call out to me – only not with your actual voice but through your mind or something. You woke me up so I would have the chance to safe you."

"So what, you're saying I'm some kind of psychic-freak as well? Now I don't think that's true, you know. Must have been something else…"

There it was again, that slightly defensive tone, the one that had hurt Sam the most, through all his struggle with this topic he'd had himself. The thought that his brother might actually consider him a freak. For real. Would walk out of him because of it.

Which was ridiculous considering who had the history of walking out on whom… Dean would never, ever leave him…not intentionally.

And if there was one person he didn't need to be afraid of leaving him, of thinking bad about him, it would be Dean. The one person that would stick with him, no matter what. Which was sick and twisted and all kinds of unfair and wrong, sure, but still it made him fell…safe. And loved. As safe as he'd ever be. And that was all he needed to know.

"I don't know, Dean. I'm telling you, it was just like a vision, only…different. It made me see…almost like seeing through your eyes, you know? Like you made me see…"

Dean lifted a hand to stop him, rubbed his temples as if fighting off a headache.

"You said you saw me in that shaft again…her on top of me?"

Sam nodded, leaned closer again.

"Was she…kind of…pressing me down, kissing me…?"

Still not looking directly at Sam, his eyes only flicking over under lowered lids occasionally and then only for less than a second.

"Yeah, pretty much…and afterwards, when she was gone…you were choking up water…lots of it, like, gallons. Almost like back then, you know, down in the shaft. Only that this time you weren't wet, no actual water anywhere around."

Dean nodded, finally looked over at Sam and the doubt and worry edged into his eyes chucked a piece off Sam's heart.

"Why, what is it, Dean?"

It seemed to take a lot out of him to admit to it, but finally Dean spoke, locking eyes with his brother the whole time as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I was down there, you know. I mean, again. I woke up and I thought she'd gotten me and brought me back… She was whispering stuff to me, telling me… She knew, knew that James had cheated on her. But she loved him, was willing to forgive him even, if he'd just come back to her. It worked for a couple of weeks, but then she caught him with another woman again. They had a fight and he knocked her out. When she woke up again…she was down in that shaft, didn't know how she'd gotten there, all alone and it was dark and cold…"

Dean shivered involuntarily, pulled his injured arm closer.

"He just left her there… Came back a couple of days later. When he found out that she was still alive…he…he opened that pipe up there, filled the shaft… He killed her, Sam…in cold blood, drowned her slowly…all alone… God she was so scared…"

Dean's voice kind of broke at the last word and he tried to cover it with a cough, apparently hoping that his diversion would work, but Sam could see through this far too easily. And he could see that Dean knew it, too.

Dean cleared his throat, went on.

"She told me that she was scared…didn't want to be alone anymore. That she would make me stay with her. She was kneeling over me, pressing me down, kissing me and all. Then the water started coming again…"

His breath hitched at the memory and Sam automatically reached out, grabbed Dean's shoulder to ground him.

He couldn't even come close to imagining what Dean must have gone through, the fear of drowning, the water. Experiencing all of that once was bad enough but having to go through it again…

Sure enough, Dean started shaking a little, a faint ripple of taunt muscle underneath his shirt, travelling towards the surface from his innermost core and he scrunched his eyes shut as if to fend of memories, images, feelings…

Sam gripped Dean's other shoulder, carful to avoid the lacerations he knew to be there, buried underneath gauze and fabric, holding his brother level, trying to will him to focus back on him, to not slip off again.

"You're out now…"

"I know…"

"No, Dean, look at me…listen to me… You are out now. Look at me, feel that…"

He put a hand on Dean's neck to touch skin, pulling him towards him until their foreheads almost touched…almost. Twisting bundles of tensed muscles underneath clammy skin rolling against Sam's palm, made him grip a little harder. Not caring how that would look or what Dean might think about it. Knowing that physical contact was the only way to make Dean believe...

Coming back seemed to be a fight in itself, not an easy snapping back into reality. Nothing even remotely easy from the look on Dean's face, the ripples of exertion that travelled through him. As much as Sam wanted to say something, anything, he knew that the best way to handle this right now was to say nothing at all and just let Dean figure it out by himself. Just let him figure out that he was safe…as safe as Sam could keep him, that was. It used to be enough for Dean to know that.

Now was no exception.

It might have taken minutes or hours, Sam couldn't have cared less. Because in the end, Dean was back, the panic receded to a dull throbbing ache in the back of his burning eyes. And what made it even better was the fact that now he was not only looking straight at Sam, he was hanging onto him, visually clinging to him.

"You're out…" Sam mumbled again, displaying a calmness that he didn't really feel.

"I know." And this time, he meant it.

A little reluctantly, Sam broke the contact, staying a little closer than necessary, maybe, watching Dean straightening himself, mentally at least.

"So…my vision, it was just like what…you've just described…" Sam said carefully.

Giving Dean a window to pull himself together again. Knowing it would mean more to his brother than anything else he could have said at the moment.

Dean nodded, knowing. A small smile, maybe, Sam couldn't be entirely sure. But it was the thought that counted.

Sam knew that his tactic of diversion had worked when Dean cast his eyes downward again, seemingly checking on a spot on his cast before focusing on a spot somewhere a little ways off to the side. And while it felt good to know that he was back, back here with him and not lost in dream or panic or whatever again, it still hurt. Hurt Sam to know that, in order to keep up the pretence, his brother needed to shut him out. Made him wonder, too, why the pretence was even necessary.

There was another question he'd never get an answer to, most likely.

"Yeah… It's just… How is it possible, Sam? What you saw in your vision, how could you…? It was what I saw, what I felt…what she made me feel, I guess. How could I, what, transfer that to you? I'm not some kind of freak now too, am I? We gotta call each other Jennifer Love and Patricia from now on?"

Sam smiled at that but didn't take the bait.

"Beats me. I mean, there have been some cases of people in extreme situations kind of developing supernatural powers. And it works best with people having a close relationship with each other… just think about me moving that chest away from the door when I had that vision of you being shot by Max… I guess, we do qualify as pretty close…and me having some sort of psychic abilities didn't hurt any, either. You said it yourself, you tried to call out to me but couldn't, but somehow you did manage…"

Dean still looked a little doubtful, but Sam couldn't offer anything more of an explanation than that.

"So you think that's going to be a regular thing now? You seeing through my eyes and all? Because then I really need to be careful, you know. Wouldn't want for you to witness the wrong things…"

Sam smiled, appreciating his brother's way of diffusing difficult situations with humour and smugness, all of a sudden. Truth be told, he himself didn't quite know how to handle the situation. It was kind of scary, come to think of it, could come in handy, granted, but still… And somehow it did make him proud that Dean would call on him for help in a life and death situation. Not that he had ever doubted that his brother trusted him with his life but still…talk about a boost in confidence. And damn did it feel good.

"You know, you shouldn't worry about it too much. It was probably a one-time thing only, or, rather, a two-time-ting. And besides, not the worst gift to pick up, right? We might be able to use it to our advantage some day, who knows…?"

Again Dean nodded, then leaned his head back, his eyes heavy-lidded, almost drifting closed, exhaustion written all over his features.

"Might work on the ladies, too, you know…telling them my brother is watching us and all…some might find that kind of exciting…"

"Yeah…you wish!"

"Maybe you're right...and we'll handle this…somehow."

"Yeah, we will. Don't worry about it. We'll figure this out."

Dean nodded, eyes suddenly droopy and he fought to drag heavy lids open, blinking a couple of times before giving up the fight.

"I think…I'll just go back to sleep for a little bit, alright..?"

The words already slurred and sluggish, and Sam resigned himself to the fact that they'd stay here a little longer still. His brother needed the rest, it wasn't fair to drag him off just yet. Besides, Isabella was gone, so no need for haste. He'd give Dean another couple of hours before getting him into the Impala and as far away as possible. He'd use the time to do some research, try to find them some place to stay until they were ready to hunt again.

Sam helped Dean scoot down on the mattress again, ignoring the small hisses of pain as he stuffed the pillow behind his head a little and brushing the latest head-wound in the process, adjusting the blankets around him carefully.

"Thanks, grandma…tucked me in nice and warm…"

Dean whistled the first tune of some lullaby before drifting off, which made Sam smile painfully, remembering his brother humming that same song to him when he was little and Dean had tucked him in.

Remembering as if it was yesterday.

Remembering it as if it had been a lifetime ago.

Back when things had still seemed so easy to him. Only that even back then easy had never been a part of it. At least not for Dean. But he'd somehow managed to not make his little brother feel that. Now that was just about the greatest gift Sam could ever have been given.

"Ok, Dean. Just rest, I'll be right here."

"Yeah…I know…"

"Just call when you need something…"

Now this suddenly had a whole other meaning to it as well…

This time the smile tucking at Dean's lips was an honest one. He was asleep before Sam had even finished the sentence.

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

AN:

Things I learned when writing fanfiction:

1) I'm so far from being the only freak out there ;-)

2) I still feel nervous like a schoolgirl whenever posting a new chapter and that will never change – who needs fingernails anyway???

3)I used to think that other peoples opinions about what I write don't matter to me, but they actually do… I get all warm and fuzzy inside whenever I read one of you wonderful and kind reviews, even though I know I don't deserve even half of them!

4) Whenever I think that I might just have a certain number of chapters left to write…don't say it out loud, respectively, don't write it down…because things hardly ever work out as planned!

That said – especially pointing out point 4…I might not wrap this up in just one more chapter after all…I got this new idea and I think it will take maybe two more from here on…but taking my own advice to heart I will not make any 100% predictions anymore!

So, probably two more, I'm almost pretty sure, like, you know, 99,9% sure, that is ;-)

So thanks a heap for reading and reviewing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and keep enjoying the chapters to come!

Take care