Hi all! Here I am once again. The thoughts just kept coming when I starting typing this out today. I, as always, appreciate your comments and reviews and am hoping that this chapter is to your liking.
Oh no. This can't be good. It's true though. Dean is right. He is right. Sam can remember every single detail of the night before and has been wanting so badly to get his brother to confide to him his deepest, darkest thoughts about all those demons that haunt him, that he didn't stop to think of the affect that his search for those secrets was doing, was having on his older brother. Of what toll his 'interrogation methods' were taking on him. As he continues to feel his sibling's eyes burn through him, he looks to him and those eyes seem to include a silent plea for help, for help to piece together the jumble of emotions he feels and to understand what has and what is happening.
Sam steels himself against his rising set of nerves and speaks in what he hopes comes across to his brother as total and utter confidence. "Yeah, okay Dean, you're right. I will tell you about it but, it's just, you know, I am worried about you and it seems maybe I let that get in the way of maintaining my usually calm and charming exterior. I'm sorry man. You know, I didn't mean to or think that I would scare you. But, you're right. You need answers from me to fill in the gaps. But you need to understand that I am going to need answers from you too okay? But first, I think you and I should each take a minute, calm ourselves down, and relax before any more blood vessels threaten to burst. Alright?"
Sam sees that his brother's expression has softened and, when he speaks, the younger Winchester hears not one trace of the usual arrogance or attitude that usually accommpanies it. "Sure Sammy. Sounds good. I think you're right. I do need a minute to rest. After all, I was laying into your pretty good back there wasn't I?" Scoffs. "Well, just a gentle reminder my baby brother, and I thought you of all people would know this, I am THE master of verbal manipulation and tit-for-tats and WILL be the last man standing every single time."
After he proudly states the facts of his superiority on this particular subject, Dean lets out a deep sigh, pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his hand slowly down his face.
"Hey man, you doing alright?"
"Um... yeah, yeah, I'm good. But Sammy? Maybe it's time we seriously thought about gettin' some grub? I'm feeling... I don't know..." A gentle shake of his head. "...a bit light-headed, and really tired, and my fricken head seems to be beating out some kind of annoying techno-babble rhythm against my skull. I keep fading in and out like I can't think straight. Food might help that right?"
Sam notices his brother as he looks to him, looks at him as if to search for his younger brother's approval of the idea. Sam opts to nod his head in silent agreement and watches Dean do the same. "Good Sam. That's good. Thanks. You go, I'll stay here." Yes, definitely. By the appearance of his older brother right now, Sam figures water and drugs should also be high up on the list for Dean.
As he takes a moment to complete a visual scan of his brother, Sam thinks he looks as though he has aged 10 years in the past 24 hours. Dark bags now make ugly circles around Dean's usually vibrant eyes, the same eyes which now look dull and very tired indeed. His face seems to wear a kind of permanent etch of pain, like it has been sown right in. Sam figures the combination of physical and emotional stress that his older sibling has endured, not only this night, but pretty much EVERY night for the past few years has caught up to him, all at once, and is wreaking vengence in the nastiest of ways on his brother's psyche. It makes him appear more frail than Sam has ever seen him. The younger Winchester does not know how much juice is left in Dean's batteries but figures they are running very, very low. Sam decides if Dean wants something as simple as some food then who is he to say no?
"Sounds awesome, feeling a bit peckish myself now that you mention it. I think the burger joint in town should be up and runnin' and be able to meet the challenge of serving up some food to satisfy your delicate taste buds. Dean, I will go, I will leave you here, but please, while I am gone, just humour me and sit still, relax, and don't overdo it. Can you manage that?"
"Fine Sam. But, I am going to have to make one move. I have to make it over to the head before we end up with another awkward situation on our hands...or on the bed...or on the floor. You catch my meaning?" Brief pause. "And, one more thing, I need to get out of this fricken bed for a while bro', don't you know this sort of laying around all day can make a person prone to rashes or something? And, to top it off, my ASS is in serious jeopardy of falling asleep here and I do need my ass in fine, fully functional order at all times you know?" He concludes with his signature waggle of the eyebrows and Sam can't help it as he breaks out a smile and giggles. Ah, it sure feels good to laugh once in a while. Whatever shit they've seen, whatever shit they've done, no matter what else is going on with the two brothers, Dean has the ability to ALWAYS manage to deliver a laugh. "Hey? Chuckles? One more thing. Before you make your usual mother hen comment let me just save you the trouble. NO, I DO NOT need any help to take a leak!" Sam opens his mouth to get a word out in edgewise but Dean cuts him off quickly at the pass. "Damn it Sam, I am not an invalid and I have made it to the bathroom just a few times without your help! Just let me do this one small thing. Well, truth be told, small is not the word I, or others, would use." A full blown laugh escapes Dean's mouth as he enjoys the amazing-ness of his wit. "You just go out, I'll go in, to that little room in the corner over there, and why don't we agree to rendezvous in the main foyer area of our luxury suite at, let's say, that table just over there. Okay?"
The youngest brother feels uneasy and not at all comfortable with the idea of leaving Dean alone for any period of time, but the more he stalls with the answer the more daggers he can feel fly at him. Even when he is hurt and not operating at full capacity, the glare that Dean can unleash is still a little unnerving, even to Sam who has seen it a thousand times before. He is concerned that his stubborn brother will just decide to clam up, about everything and anything if he voices his worry outloud. Because Sam doesn't want to lose the semblence of momentum they are gaining with all this talking stuff, he decides to make only an itsy-bitsy suggestion instead of an all out disagreement to his brother's plan.
"How about a slight compromise on the topic Dean? How about I stay for a minute, just to make sure that you can actually make it off the bed and can stay on your feet without collapsing. If you pass that little test I will go. What do you say?" Sam, of course, is ready for an argument, a sarcastic volley or twelve served over to him or maybe some kind of random rationalization as to how stupid this whole thing is but, he is NOT ready for an uncharacteristic move on Dean's part. His older brother relents...without even an iota of a fight flowing through him.
"I can live with that Sammy." Dean slowly swings his legs over the side of the bed and pushes off with his hands. He quickly grabs on to the conveniently located nightstand as obvious waves of pain and dizziness course through him. "Wait Sam, just wait. Stay where you are man, I'm okay." Dean's grip on the nightstand eases and Sam detects a slight waver in his brother's posture as he fights to keep control of his balance. Feet firmly in place, satisfied he won't be doing a nosedive to get up close and personal to the less-than-sanitary carpet, Dean heads towards the bathroom in what can be best described as baby steps. He arrives at the door and announces his success to his brother.
"Ok Sammy, made it. Now, off you go. And, I demand that you include a ginormous coffee in the bag of goodies you bring back." Dean moves to close the door but, still feeling unsure, Sam remains where he is. Dean's head peeks around the edge of the door. "Hey, dude? I can hear you thinking out there. And, YOUR thinking is hurting MY head! You think way too much Sammy. Thinking is just a waste. Don't think, just decide and do."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm going. I'll be back in a flash. Don't overdo it while I'm gone!"
Sam hears the muffled voice of his older brother as it travels through the now closed door. "Take it easy Samantha. Don't go speeding around town, don't put my baby's life on the line. No crashing her into anything or anyone in your mad dash to get back to your babysitting duties. Go already, and bring me back a damned cup of coffee. Bitch."
"Yeah, whatever. See ya. Jerk."
*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*
As Sam pulls into the motel parking lot, he feels like he's been gone from Dean for hours and hours. When he looks at the time though, he finds it has only been about thirty minutes. God, I think I am due for some shut eye. Grabbing his haul of the usual suspects, including a burger loaded with Dean's favourtie artery blocking materials, two salads, hoping his brother won't feel up to the heart-attack-on-a-bun option, and two what are they called, ginormous coffees?, Sam locks up the Impala and heads for the door.
The vibe Sam gets as he walks through that door is definitely not a good one. No Dean at the table. No Dean on the bed. As Sam looks around and feels inches away from reaching the panic zone, he spots the light coming from under the bathroom door. Whew, that was close, almost lost my cool there. Placing coffees, burgers, salads and car keys on the table, he announces his arrival. "Honey! I'm home! Dinner is served!" No response. "Sheesh, Dean, do I have to start bringing and ringing a dinner bell to get you to move your ass and come eat?" Still. No. Answer. Not too worried yet, Sam walks over and gently raps his knuckles on the door. "Dean? Everything a'right in there? Did your numb ass get stuck on the can?" No answer. Okay, I can hear water running. Don't panic yet, maybe he just can't hear me. Checking the door Sam feels a rush of relief to discover it's unlocked. Small miracles are better than no miracles I guess.
As Sam turns the knob he keeps talking in hopes of getting some sort of response. "OK Dean, sorry if you are enjoying some time in your happy place right now but I am coming in." The door opens slowly and as Sam scans every part of the room, his eyes come to rest on and keep hold of Dean's form. Ok, good, at least he is still here. Ok, very bad, he is so not in his happy place right now. The older of the two brothers is kneeling in front of the sink, rocking back and forth, hands firmly planted on his head. Sam moves in to shut off the taps and that is what seems to stop the rocking motion of his brother instantly but the hands remain where they are. Sam then kneels in front of his brother.
"Hey man. Dean, what's going on with you right now?"
Dean's eyes remain closed but at least Sam gets a response from him. "S'm? That you? S'm?" Sam hears his brother's voice crack and as he looks more closely he sees the tell-tale signs of someone who has been crying. Alot.
"Yeah, Dean. It's me. I'm here. I said I'd be right back remember?"
"What? Oh yeah...that's right. You got my coffee?"
"Got it. But, first, can you tell me why you're in here? Can you tell me what happened?"
"Head is on fire. Can't think. Can't move. So much pain. Always in pain. Too much pain. Overwhelming. Decided to stay here."
"Oh kay. Did you, do you see something?" Sam asks the question as gently as possible but he stills sees the flinch it causes in Dean. C'mon bro, let me in. Let me help you this time. "Dean, what did you see?"
A few moments go by. Sam can see the conflict in his brother's features. It's like he wants to tell, he wants to share, but he doesn't want to be a burden to his baby brother. Always looking out for everyone but himself. It's okay Dean, we will get through whatever this is together. Just trust me. Please.
Dean clears his throat, looks to the ground and starts to whisper out a rush of information, as if stopping to think or consider what he was saying would make him pause, make him push it all back inside to never be reached again. As his brother starts, as Sam listens, as the horrors that consumed and still consume his brother are articulated in Dean's own words, Sam suddenly wishes he hadn't pushed his brother to this. But, that is just a fleeting thought as Dean's despair and torture reinforce Sam's resolve to help him. Somehow. He has to find a way to help Dean.
"Hell S'mmy. I can see Hell. I see it as if I was still there. I can smell the flesh, my flesh, burning, charring, turning to ash." Shuddering breath. "I can hear. Hear the screams, my screams, as my skin burns and bubbles and peels from my bones." Sob. Another sob. "But, it's not just that. It's Alistair. He could." Tears welling up in eyes. "He could change. He could make himself appear to me in any form. Of anyone. Anyone Sam." Looks up and stares directly into Sam's eyes before dropping his gaze back to the floor. "You. Dad. Mom. Jess. He appeared to me as you. He appeared to me as dad. As mom. As Jess. And as I smelt my burning flesh, as I heard my screams, as I saw my skin burn and bubble I also saw you. and dad. and mom. and jess. You would laugh as I burned. Dad would laugh as I screamed. Mom would laugh as my skin bubbled. Jess would laugh as I was once again made whole, and then it would start. All. Over. Again."
TBC...
