The Ghost Within
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Supernatural…obviously.
a/n: Well this is it…hope you enjoy!
lb.
Chapter 11
Sam woke to dim light and muffled sounds, his body aching and feeling sluggish. He took in a sharp breath when he saw Dean unmoving next to him as he remembered the circumstances that had gotten them here.
He wasted no time pulling the drip from his arm and slowly swung his legs over the bed noticing he was wearing hospital garb. Whilst his whole body screamed at the movement, his head felt almost clear and he looked at his watch. It was just after eight in the evening, how could that be right?
"Dean. Hey Dean, c'mon man you need to wake up."
He placed a hand on Dean's arm without eliciting a response. His brother looked pale and exhausted and Sam couldn't remember a recent time that Dean had not been covered in bruises and injuries. It was obviously taking its toll, the body could only suffer so much before it relented and went down for the count. Sam absently rubbed his thumb over Dean's arm.
"Please Dean, I need you here. I need to know you're okay."
Sam had closed his eyes but jerked them open when he felt Dean's arm tense, the muscles suddenly going rigid. Dean took a gasping breath in and wrenched his arm free trying to scramble away, eyes darting wildly around the room and then landing on Sam. Dean started to hyperventilate.
"Hey, it's okay, take it easy. Dean just breath, you're alright now. It's over."
Sam attempted to place a calming hand on his brother's arm but froze when Dean flinched and began to panic.
"No, you're dead. Please no more, no more. Finish it. Please Sammy." Dean was shaking, trembling and his broken voice was begging.
Sam choked back a sob when he realised Dean was still caught up in the nightmare, pleading for an end to it all.
"Dean, no it's over, the spirit's gone. This is real and we're both okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
Dean shook his head, his mind not able to grasp the situation after being tormented time and again with similar tricks.
Sam didn't know what else to do so he moved swiftly. Before his brother could react Sam had wrapped his good arm around Dean's back putting a hand firmly around Dean's shoulder. Sam placed his other hand on Dean's face, gently turning his brother around to look at him.
"Dean I know this is hard but you need to trust me. It's over and I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not leaving. We're back at the surgery and the Doc has patched you up but you still need to rest."
No reaction.
"Dean please talk to me. I need to know you understand."
Nothing but rapid breathing.
"Sam?"
"Doc, he's just woken up but he isn't…I don't think he knows what's happening."
The Doctor entered the room, walking calmly over to Dean's side. He used the penlight and tested Dean's pupils then took his pulse, all the while speaking gently. Dean seemed frozen, trapped by his panic and the fact the Sam hadn't let him go. Wouldn't let him go.
"He's in a lot of pain, pupils are still dilated. Keep him calm, I think I'll boost his pain meds for another few hours. He needs to stay calm and rest." The Doctor walked quickly from the room to prepare the shot.
Sam clutched Dean, felt his brother shaking and rocking as he struggled with the concept of reality. Sam clung to Dean desperately, trying to ignore the look of terror that crossed his older brother's face. He wasn't used to seeing Dean this way and it scared the hell out of him.
"Dean, please say something. I need you to find your way back, okay. The things that you saw before, none of it was real, you didn't hurt me. God Dean, don't you dare give up. I know it hurts man and I know you're scared but you've got to fight this, I need you to fight this." Sam closed his eyes as he felt the frustration and worry and exhaustion overtake him. "I can't do this without you."
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Sam noticed Dean stirring for the third time in about ten hours and braced himself for the inevitable panic attack. His brother had been in and out of consciousness, each time unable to comprehend or trust what was happening. Doctor Schuman had begun suggesting therapy, worried that Dean had been pushed too far over the edge for either of them to manage. Sam knew there was no therapy that could deal with the things they had seen or done.
Sam put his hand gently on Dean's chest, careful to avoid the various wounds. As he made contact, Dean's breathing increased and he looked around like a trapped animal, still too weak to effectively push against Sam's hand.
"Dean, its okay just relax. This is real, you've got to trust me. It's over Dean. It's over and we're okay."
For the first time Sam saw Dean hesitate, a frown creased his brow as he squinted his eyes and looked directly at his younger brother.
"Sam?" Asking, hoping, pleading all wrapped up in one word.
Sam nodded and grinned as he felt a wave of emotion, relief wash over him. "Yeah man, what took you so long."
"You okay Sammy?" Dean's voice was still hesitant, fearful.
"Yeah Dean, I'm good. Are you…do you understand where you are, what happened?"
"I couldn't get out, everything was wrong. I kept, I…I kept killing you Sammy. It wouldn't stop. It hurt so much and I just wanted it to end." Dean reached out and briefly placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Please let this be real."
Dean looked down, closing his eyes and speaking softly. "Did I hurt anyone Sam?"
"What? No, no Dean. The spirit messed with your thoughts, made your fears seem real." Sam paused. "The only one you hurt Dean was yourself and I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it."
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Dean's mind was starting to trust what it saw, what it felt. Each time he started to panic, waiting for the knife and Sam's eyes full of pain and hurt and then the blood…he felt Sam's hand on his arm or shoulder. He started to hope, to know that Sam was really here and he was okay. Sam kept saying that Dean would be alright and Dean wanted to believe that as well.
He wanted to trust Sam more than anything else he could think of but something stopped him every time he tried to talk. He couldn't burden Sam with this shit, not when he saw the depth of worry and fear in his little brother's eyes. Not when he saw the pain and anguish he had caused. Dad was gone and it was up to him to help Sam keep the faith, keep strong - keep breathing.
Dean's clarity came back enough for him to know that there was something wrong with him, wrong in his head. Every time he thought about what had happened over the past few weeks, months, years he would forget how to breathe. A horrible aching pain filled his throat and chest and it took every ounce of will he had left not to scream.
Dean wanted so badly to tell Sam how scared he was but he was more scared of what would happen if he did. If he started to tell Sam, he didn't think he would be able to edit the raw emotion that was slowly driving him insane. The thought of showing Sam how weak he was, the thought that Sam would stay with him out of pity, scared him. The thought that Sam would leave, terrified him. It was easier not to talk too much and just concentrate on breathing.
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Sam had barely left his brother's side in over 72 hours, not wanting Dean to wake up without him there. Afraid that the progress they had made would be for nothing if Dean thought he was back in the nightmare.
Sam had watched as Dean slowly began to believe the reality that he saw. The spirit was gone but enough damage had already been done and Sam knew he was way out of his depth but there was no one else. No one else knew Dean as well as he did, no one else could understand the sacrifices Dean had made. No one else could save Dean.
Sam was grateful his brother was responding, he understood Dean had a lot to work through but there was no way in hell he was going to let him suffer in silence, suffer alone. He had made that mistake already and it wouldn't happen again.
The Doctor had insisted they stay with him and had seen his daily patients in a smaller room next to his office. Much to Sam's surprise and relief, the small surgery actually covered quite a vast area and was well set up with x-ray and minor surgery facilities albeit not the most modern equipment. They had both been well looked after, giving Sam time to concentrate on his brother.
"Dean, the Doc says you're okay to leave today if you're up for it. We can go back to the motel, or hit the road – whatever you want man." Sam tested the waters. "We need to take some time off – rest up for a bit."
Dean looked over at Sam and paused, his younger brother looked so tired and battle weary yet there was still a strength of purpose evident from the stubborn set of his jaw and the piercing stare. As Dean watched, Sam's features softened and he smiled as he walked over to the bed and plonked himself down. "Either way, I'm driving."
Dean looked at Sam's bandaged shoulder and various injuries and, as much as he wanted to get the hell outta dodge, he knew his brother should be resting too. "The motel it is then…and Sam?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
"You don't have to thank me for anything." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "The only thing I did Dean, was watch you get hurt. I'm getting pretty good at scraping you up off the floor but that doesn't mean that I like it."
"Yeah, well maybe that's the only reason I keep getting back up."
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It had been more than five days since they had been in their hotel room and as Sam opened the door, a layer of dust rose and shimmered in the afternoon light. He looked back as Dean got out of the car and closed the passenger door then walked a few steps and placed a hand on the hood.
They had finally left the surgery, both amazed and grateful for Doctor Schuman's kindness, not only putting them up at the hospital but somehow securing their motel room for another week with no questions asked. It was also a relief not to be burdened with creating some kind of story or angle to get the job done and not get busted. Although the Doctor was obviously a man of science, he also admitted to being open to the possibility of there being more to life than could be explained away by theories. Especially after the things he had seen.
They had also been informed that their medical expenses had been covered although the good Doctor would give them no further details. Dean's injuries alone would have meant that the tab was a fairly hefty one, minor surgery, rebroken arm, cracked ribs, stitches required, x-rays to check for breaks and internal damage, antibiotics and pain medication.
Pain medication. Sam's thoughts wandered back to the start of this whole mess which seemed like years ago.
Dean hadn't spoken during the drive back to the motel. Sam parked and jumped out to open the door to their room, going over the instructions from the Doctor in his head.
"You okay?"
"Yeah Sam." Dean slid his hand along the hood of the Impala as he slowly walked towards his brother.
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The boys spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening watching television and eating the take-away that Sam had ordered for dinner. Sam watched as Dean picked at his food but at least he was making an attempt. Sam could see exhaustion taking a hold on his older sibling again but he knew the effects he couldn't see were the ones that would leave the most scars.
Dean knew Sam was watching his every move but he wasn't upset, he was far too tired to be upset. As long as Sam didn't push him it would be okay. He still couldn't focus on what had happened without losing the ability to breathe so he figured it was best left alone for the moment. Left alone until he could compartmentalise the pain and resulting emotions, shutting them back in the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged.
Sam had just finished replacing the various dressings on Dean's chest, side and shoulder and was securing it with a bandage. The shower had sapped any last remaining shred of energy from Dean and he sat unmoving as Sam worked.
"Do you still see her Dean?" Sam asked quietly.
"I can't Sam. Please don't…I'm, I can't not yet." Dean felt his breathing increase as he began to panic.
Sam regretted opening his mouth when he saw Dean's reaction. "It's okay Dean, I'm sorry man. You don't have to talk until you're ready. Just remember I am going to be here when you're ready. However long it takes."
Dean nodded in response wondering if and when he would ever be ready.
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It was just after 1am on their fourth night back at the motel. Most of their time so far had been taken up with television, eating, using the laptop or in Dean's case cleaning weapons and sleeping. Sam had welcomed the return of Dean's company albeit a little more subdued than usual but still complete with lame jokes and Dean's own brand of snarkasm.
Dean finally seemed to be reaching out a little and making contact and Sam was so relieved to have his brother back.
As long as no mention was made of the past.
Sam lay in bed listening to Dean's rhythmic breathing and hoping tonight he would sleep through without waking up suddenly in the night, trembling and sweating. He would just stay awake a bit longer to make sure, he didn't want Dean to wake up alone.
Sam felt his head nod down in sleep just as a blast of ACDC came from Dean's cell phone. He quickly grabbed the phone from the night stand between the beds and answered the call as he read the display – Bobby. He saw Dean stir under the covers.
"Hey Bobby."
"Bobby? It's Sam, what's up?" Sam waited several seconds before he heard a faint voice.
"Sam? I need your help son. Think I've broken my damn leg and still gotta hunt to finish."
"Whatever you need Bobby. How bad you hurt…really?" Sam frowned when Bobby started saying a string of numbers, his voice getting fainter. Christ co-ordinates, Sam frantically swept a pen off the table next to his laptop and wrote on the first piece of paper he came across.
"Keep talking to me Bobby. What kinda hunt were you on?" Sam was already plotting the co-ordinates on the map he had opened on the table.
Well there were three of'em, who'da known? I did the spell to make them corporeal, now there's one left but I winged it pretty good."
Sam knew Bobby was rambling which was not a good sign. "Bobby I need to know what you were hunting. C'mon Bobby we gotta know what we're walking into here, man."
"Black Dogs. You're walking into a wounded Black Dog son. That gonna be a problem?"
Sam stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes. "We're coming Bobby but it' gonna take us three maybe four hours to get there. You're gonna have to hold it off 'til then so you need to stay awake. Can you make a fire at least?" Everything in Sam's head was screaming no but he knew they had no choice here.
"Son of a bitch ain't gonna want to mess with me again. You stay sharp coming in y'hear? I don't wanna have to rescue..." Bobby's voice faded into nothing.
"Bobby? Bobby?" The line dropped out.
"Sam what is it, what's wrong with Bobby?" Dean sat on the edge of his bed having listened to at least Sam's end of the conversation to know that Bobby was in trouble.
Even as Sam began relaying the details, Dean was simultaneously getting dressed and checking his weapons like his brother. Dean saw the fear and worry that crossed over Sam's already drawn features and knew his brother was struggling as their lives were again thrown into the battle.
"You know we have to do this Sam, its Bobby." Dean began but was cut short.
"God Dean there's no question about going, Bobby's like…he's family."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
With a small hesitation and a frown on his face Dean tossed Sam the keys to the Impala as they packed all their belongings into the trunk.
Sam caught them, relieved Dean had given them up without a struggle but also knowing if Dean wasn't up for driving a couple of hours he probably wasn't up for a hunt either. A Black Dog hunt just complicated things even further.
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Sam pulled up next to Bobby's pickup two hours and fifty minutes after the phone call. They wasted no time getting out and silently began donning jackets and back packs.
Dean sucked in a gasp as he slung the pack over one shoulder and the straps hit a cut. He fell into stride next to Sam and tried to remember all the important things about Black Dogs, namely how to kill them, and came up blank. He felt the scream start building in his chest but forced it back down.
"How do we kill it Sam?"
"What?"
"Tell me how to kill a Black Dog."
"Why? We know this stuff backwards Dean, it's…"
"Just humour me Sam."
"Okay Dean but you don't have to test me y'know. Salt will keep it away temporarily but it needs an incantation to make it take form, which Bobby has already done so we just need to inflict a silver bullet to the heart before the spell breaks. Happy now?"
Dean reached behind him and pulled the gun from his waistband, wincing as ribs and shoulder protested and various stitches pulled in his skin. He checked the rounds noticing with relief that all were silver bullets. He must have known this information then forgot it – what the hell?
"Dean you okay man?" Sam stomach was in knots as he looked at his brother's features in the glow of their torches. He wasn't sure what was going on in Dean's head but there was no mistaking the fleeting look of panic that had crossed his brother's face.
"Yeah."
Dean's memory snagged a few details during the next forty minutes or so, mainly those details he wished he could forgot though. He remembered finding Bobby, nearly unconscious from pain but still managing to keep a fire going. He remembered the howl that was too close and the sudden movement to his left as he turned, gun drawn. He even remembered being side swiped by the biggest freaking Black Dog he had ever seen just as he got a shot off and then realised Sam was now between him and the wounded, angry dog.
As he watched Sam fire two more shots, he saw a spray of red as the dog lunged at Sam and made contact before it landed heavily. Sam dropped to the ground and didn't move. The scream that had been building inside Dean for so long, could no longer be restrained. Dean was oblivious to his own emotion filled broken voice as he clawed his way up from the ground, firing repeatedly into the bloody animal as it lunged again towards Sam's body.
Dean was still pulling the trigger of the now empty gun when he collapsed without a sound next to his prone brother.
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Sam glanced over at Bobby who was lying propped up on one elbow watching him. Sam looked down, squinting a little as the movement sent fresh pain through his arm. Dean's head lay across his lap, his face dirt streaked, pale and too young. Sam placed his fingers alongside his brother's neck again, just to make sure.
"Sam, he's gonna be alright. You need to come over here so I can check your head and arm, you're bleeding." Bobby sighed and shook his head, at least the Black Dog was dead but there was something else going on here. "Sam, c'mon."
"Bobby I can't leave him. He must've thought I…Oh God it was too soon. I shouldn't have let him come."
"Sam he must have got knocked on the head when he was hit the first time and he just wouldn't go down 'till he knew the job was done. Just typical of your pig headed brother. Now git yourself over here now." Bobby knew sure as hell there was something wrong with the older boy. He had never seen Dean lose complete control like that before, even when Sam had been hurt. He bit back his concern so he could assess Sam's bleeding arm.
Sam placed Dean's head gently on the ground and went over to Bobby, kneeling clumsily in the dirt next to him.
"Your arm's still bleeding but its not too bad and you've got yourself a nasty cut on the head to match the other ones. Get something to wrap around your arm Sam." Bobby looked over the battle weary boy in front of him, regretting that he'd dragged the brothers into this but thankful he could rely on them. Always. He closed his eyes against a wave of pain and felt the sweat roll down his forehead.
"I need to splint your leg Bobby. We need to get out of here." Sam stood and walked into the nearby brush, glancing over at Dean on his way past. He returned with two sturdy looking branches which he used to support the lower leg break. He tied his jacket around both branches making sure they were held securely in position.
He stood and saw Dean's hand move slowly to his head. "Dean, hey Dean. You okay?"
"Sam?" Dean looked around. "Are you okay, is Bobby…?'
"Yeah I'm still here." Bobby's gruff voice brought the ghost of a smile to Dean's lips. "Still sitting on my arse waiting to get rescued but I'm good. You?"
"Help me up Sam." Dean took the outstretched hand and looked over Sam's head wound and the fresh blood on his arm as he stood.
He felt numb. No idea what had happened to himself and not really caring – Sam was okay, Bobby was okay. Was he okay? He felt…nothing. At least nothing felt better than the choking panic when he thought Sam had died in front of him like some cruel joke. This numbness would allow him to get Bobby and Sam out of here without falling to bits right before their eyes. As long as it didn't take too long.
"Dean what happened?" Sam walked beside his brother over to Bobby and they helped him up off the ground.
"I don't know Sam. I don't remember much, it doesn't matter now anyway does it? We all live to fight another day."
"I thought you were back in the nightmare Dean. I thought I'd lost you again."
"C'mon let's get this bearded damsel in distress outta here before he starts complaining." Dean glanced at his brother over Bobby's head hoping Sam would understand. Not here, not now.
Sam held Dean's stare for a second and gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Yeah, he's a real bitch when he's grumpy."
"You boys do realise that I can hear you. I have a broken leg I'm not senile." Bobby's hunter instincts knew when to leave well enough alone so he played along for the moment.
"God here we go!"
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It almost felt surreal to Dean. They had driven Bobby to the hospital, then left him there for x-rays and overnight observation. All the other details now eluded him but he remembered that much.
He looked around him. Sam was driving, one hand on the wheel and the clock on the dash read 3-10pm. He frowned and noticed Sam looking at him. He wondered where they were going, was he supposed to know that?
"Dean, you awake? We're nearly there."
"Nearly where Sam?"
"At the motel. Bobby gave us his room keys remember? We'll go get him in the morning." Sam bit back his concern, not wanting to stress Dean out more than he was.
Sam pulled into the almost full parking lot and cut the engine. They grabbed their packs and belongings and hauled them into the room Bobby had rented for this job.
The room suddenly felt way too small for Dean, he couldn't think straight, couldn't breathe and he had to get out. "Sam I'm just gonna pull the car up around back okay. There's a few too many people around this joint and we gotta be careful."
"Dean I'll do it. You shouldn't be..." Sam realised he was speaking to a closing door as Dean exited the room without waiting for Samto finish.
Sam sat on his bed in defeat, he felt absolutely fucking useless. He knew Dean was getting worse, the memory loss and disorientation being the latest symptom of a bitter inner struggle but what the hell could he do. Anything would be better than sitting on the sidelines with a front row seat as he watched his brother die from the inside out.
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Dean parked the car around the back of the building, driving onto the dirt and into the shadows of the smaller trees. God what was happening to him? He saw the way Sam looked at him like he was going to disappear if he looked away too long. Maybe that would be easier – if he just went…away. Away from the pain of always being left behind, to pick up the pieces, finish the fight, grieve the dead. There were so many, too many…
He cut the engine and slid out of the seat, grabbing onto the open door as his knees unexpectedly buckled and his back pressed against the warm exterior of the Impala.
He felt the familiar terror and ache in his chest and instinctively fought to hold it within but he just couldn't this time. His mind and body were just too tired, too overwhelmed.
Dean's breath caught in an anguished sob as he pressed his fists to his forehead and slid down the car to rest in the dirt. His body shuddered as he bravely fought a losing battle to stop the walls crumbling and keep his fears and hopes and pain from spilling out for all to see.
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Sam slammed his fist into the bed and stood, jaw set and a frown creasing his brow as he absently turned the television on and began flicking channels without looking. His eyes had barely moved from the curtained window as he anticipated Dean's return, knowing what he had to try. Again.
He couldn't let his older brother sink any further, trying to bear the weight of burdens that should never have been given to him. Never should have been accepted so willingly.
He had failed Dean so much. No matter how hard he tried, or how much he wanted with all his heart and soul to ease his brother's torment and protect him from…everything – he just couldn't manage to do it. He didn't know anymore what he was supposed to do or say. But he had to say something. Dean was…
Sam realised, his breath suddenly catching in his throat, that Dean had taken far too long to move the car. What if there were still aftereffects, what if, what if he was too late this time? No!
Sam burst out through the door, and sprinted along the narrow path leading to the side of the building, ignoring the fire that ignited in his abused body. His lungs screamed for air as Sam had barely allowed himself to take a breath, knowing something was wrong.
His pace did not slow as he came upon the car and veered around to the driver's side where he dropped to the ground without pause beside his brother.
Sam breathed. Hot tears clouding his eyes in relief as his immediate fear was dispelled only to have another rear in its place. His hand stopped in midair as he reached towards his older sibling.
Dean was half crumpled to his side, back resting on the Impala with one leg stretched out before him in the dirt. He was struggling to breath, his chest heaving, his whole body shaking, his eyes closed. Sam crouched further down, looking frantically for the source of his brother's distress.
"Dean? Dean, what is it?" He placed a gentle hand on the trembling shoulder in front of him, and was lost for words when his brother turned his head to look at him, dazed recognition finally showing in those green eyes.
Dean didn't speak, he didn't have to – Sam saw the bitter truth in those eyes. Whatever miracle had been holding his brother's inner walls up had finally and absolutely crumbled and Dean was being crushed underneath.
A tight fist around his heart made his chest ache as he saw the unrefined anguish reduce his brother to physical pain.
"Go."
One word somehow choked out as a hand reached over and pushed Sam away with surprising strength. Taken unaware, Sam fell back from his crouch to sit in the dirt.
"No. I'm not leaving you."
Spoken without a second thought. No doubt. No way. No argument, not this time.
Sam slowly inched forward until his back rested against the Impala next to his brother. Any words that entered his head were wrong, would not be sufficient to cut through the depths of the pain in those eyes.
Dean tried to move. He gained enough purchase in the dirt to half rise before his body seemed to protest the movement and he slumped back against the car, his strangled sobs momentarily ceasing as he slammed his head back against the car. And then again, hard. And again.
Sam instinctively grabbed Dean around the shoulders and moved them sideways so Dean was now leaning back on his chest as he wrapped his good arm around the front of his brother's body to stop any further damage.
Dean fought against the restraint, struggled ferociously as though he was under attack but Sam held fast, unwavering. Ignoring the pain now coursing through his own body, Sam gripped Dean as though sheer force could allay the fear and panic. His strength beginning to waver, he finally felt the resistance stop. Dean had nothing left, all defenses had been depleted.
"No." A whispered plea.
Sam loosened his grip as he felt Dean sag forward, felt the gut wrenching tremors take their hold as Dean was besieged with the flood of emotions held captive over a lifetime.
"Dean it's gonna be okay, I've got you man. I know this is hard but you don't have to do this alone. You're not doing this alone anymore."
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Sam didn't notice when darkness fell or when the ragged breathing ceased and became more even, more controlled. He didn't recall when he had leant his head back against the Impala and grieved silently with and for his brother. It was as though time had stopped, there was nothing more important right now than this.
Sam felt his brother shift off him with tired, slow movements and he let him go, relieved when Dean leant back against the car, shoulder to shoulder with him. An easy silence settling on them with no agenda, no hidden complications.
Sam brushed a hand over his face and through his hair, the movement making him realise his battle weary body had just about packed it in.
"Dean?"
A pause, as Sam held his breath.
"Yeah Sam."
"You're gonna get through this. You know I'll always…"
"I know Sam."
Dean felt gutted and drained and physically numb. It took all he had just to keep breathing but he also felt somehow stronger, finally anchored somewhere safe for the moment. He knew in his heart, had always known that his anchor was Sam. He now also knew that Sam believed it too. It was all a matter of trust. Absolute trust.
"Sam?"
"Yeah."
"Can't do this without you. You and…and Dad were all I had and now…"
"I know it's hard and it's gonna take a bit of getting used to but I need to know, I want to know when you're hurting man. We're stronger if we stand together.'
Dean took a moment before he spoke. "I'll try Sam but I…' Dean's voice came out rough, choked. "I'll try my best Sammy.'
"I know Dean. Just talk to me okay, let me be your brother, let me help."
They sat in silence, shoulder to shoulder for another ten minutes. Neither seemingly willing to break the contact.
"Sammy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you help me up 'cause I don't think I can move?"
"That's not what I meant Dean about helping."
"So… is that a no?"
THE END.
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a/n: That's all folks!
The endings are still the hardest part to write!
Thanx for coming along for the (longer than anticipated) ride – hope it was entertaining.
Thanx to my lovely reviewers, every comment has been much appreciated and worth more than you realise from this side of the "pen". Would love to hear your thoughts on the ending.
Until next time…
lb.
14/14