CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD
WAYWARD SOUL
CHAPTER 11
Sam stopped. He couldn't go on, the tears in his eyes were too thick for him to read the words. Clearing his throat and pinching the bridge of his nose Sam spoke, "Dean, I… what… how… Dean, I'm trying here man, I really am. I need your help. I… I just don't understand."
Sam had to stop to dry his eyes and catch his breath. Dean sat next to his little brother, silent, his head still hung low. He didn't know what they done while he was caged there. He didn't have any idea that they went on a road trip, they had so much fun. He was beginning to wonder if he was the cause for all their fighting. If he really did deserve everything he got. They were, obviously, better off without him.
He felt an overwhelming urge to walk out, to get up and leave, never come back. Sam was better off without him, he could leave and off himself some place that Sammy would never find him. He would never know, he would just think he was missing or something. He didn't realize while he was figuring out his plan he had reached to the back of his waistband, reaching for his gun, his gun that wasn't there, the one he told Sammy to take, so he couldn't use it. Sam's touch startled him out of his thoughts. Sam had noticed what Dean was doing, what he was reaching for, he grasped Deans arm and pulled his arm back in front of him
"DEAN! Dude, what the hell?" Sam sounded angry, and concerned.
Dean glanced at Sam, his green eyes glassed over, dazed. Dean blinked with a small shake of his head and his mask came back on. Back to his old self again, well back to what has become normal for him anyhow.
"Dean?" Sam questioned, wanting to make sure he was okay but he had already asked him that a million times over the past few months.
Dean, knowing his brother needed to hear from him, but unsure of what to say, started to speak, "I don't know Sam, what do you want me to say? I deserved it, okay? I broke the number one rule, no one knows, everything we do, everything this family has ever done, is kept secret. I broke that. I told Bobby. I don't know why I did. Maybe I was hoping he could help me? I really don't know. Just dumb I guess."
Dean paused for a moment to dry the couple of tears that snuck from his eyes. "Sam, it hurt, okay. It hurt… a lot… more than anything else up to that point. I… I can't even explain it… I was scared, alone. I trusted Dad to come back, but, honestly, I wasn't sure if he was or not, or if he… if he would come back before…. Before it was too late."
Dean paused to draw in a deep, ragged breath. "I didn't know what you two were doing." He looked at his brother, almost pleading for it to not be true, "Did you… the two of you… did you enjoy it? Like he said? Without me?"
Sam wasn't sure what to say, now was not the time to lie to his brother. "Dean, I mean, yeah, we did. Dad was… he was like a dad, for the first time I could remember, but Dean, I had no idea. Dad told me you were hunting, if I would have known…" Sam couldn't, he felt so bad, he felt like the lowest thing on earth, that his best memory was one of Dean's worst. "I'm sorry" Sam said as he sunk his chin into his chest.
"Sam," Dean started explaining what Sam wanted to hear. "It's not your fault, okay? Like you said, you didn't know. There was no way in hell I was ever going to let you know. It was… dark. I don't know how long, how many days, weeks?"
"Two" Sam answered, "it was two weeks."
Dean nodded, not surprised by his answer, then continued. "It hurt, man. It hurt like a son of a bitch. But, after the first day or two, it was like everything started going numb, don't get me wrong, there was still pain, and a lot of it, but it was just, like it was there, not coming from anywhere specific, just overall pain."
Dean shook his head, trying to clear his head before continuing. "My muscles were sore and locking up, getting stiff, I couldn't move the way I was tied. My stomach, it hurt like a bitch! I couldn't throw up, I had tried. The gag in my mouth, it was soaked with old puke, the rest I had to keep swallowing back down. One thing… Dad didn't mention… he put a catheter… in… so, literally, anything that he put inside my body had no way of coming out. He tied a knot in the end, so nothing could... come out, he pushed the knot he tied… he pushed it inside… me… just for giggles, just for that little extra pain."
He had started talking with his eyes closed, as if opening them would mean he would have to face the truth. He wasn't ready for that. He was barely able to say what he was saying. There were tears dripping, soaking his lap. The pain was written all over his face.
"There were a few nights… that people… checked into the room. I prayed it was Dad, but it never was. I… I didn't make a sound… I did exactly as I was ordered to do, no matter how bad I felt, no matter how scared I was. Sam, I was scared, I was alone, I wasn't sure if anyone was going to come back and save me. Dad, he was the only one who knew where I was at."
Dean opened his eyes and the tears that were being held back came out like a flood. He wiped his hand down his face to wipe some of them away. He stared off into the room. "Remember, remember when I told you that motel rooms were… they were a trigger for me? That I hated them?"
Sam shook his head yes, unable to even get the word out.
"That's… that's one reason why." He closed his eyes again and gave his head a slight shake while he chewed on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
"When… when Dad came back… I was sick, I was so sick. He… he stayed… the whole night… I didn't know it was him, not until morning. He started to talk to me when he woke up. Sam, he stayed the night, sleeping on top of me, not even checking to make sure I was okay, didn't even care if I was alive or dead."
He had Sam's complete attention. "I was shocked to hear him talking. I prayed that he was going to help me, he was going to get me out of there. But, he left. That bastard went and ate breakfast! I didn't know that. At that moment, I was ready to give up, I just wanted to die. I thought he had left again, I was afraid he wasn't coming back. I didn't have much left in me, another day or two maybe? It had been… well 2 weeks, I guess… since I had anything to eat or drink, since I had seen daylight, since I had been able to move my body."
Dean's voice become emotionless, once again. "When Dad pulled the bed from on top of me, the light was so bright, I remember how bright it was, I couldn't keep my eyes open, it hurt my eyes it was so bright. Dad picked me up by the ropes he tied me with. He dragged me into the bathroom and threw me into the tub. He turned the shower on, ice cold. It was freezing. I swear he had to have the air conditioner on full blast too. It was way too cold. He untied my hands and feet. I remember feeling the relief but not being able to move them. Then he pulled the tape off and moved the gag. It didn't take but a few seconds to start puking. I didn't have enough energy to puke, dude, it hurt like hell when I tried to force it up, but I still puked, it just poured out. Then he pulled the catheter out, he didn't even deflate it first, guess just another thing just for a little extra pleasure."
Dean half smirked with that statement. "Last was… I don't know what it was but damn, it hurt. It felt like he was tearing me apart when he pulled it out. After a few minutes I could feel the tension in my body start to relax as everything it had been holding onto so tightly for weeks was released out. I remember Dad saying something about blood and cuts or something. I don't remember, I really don't."
Dean had to stop, he had to take a break, change positions or something. he sat up, turning his body so his legs were off the side of the bed. Tears still falling. Pain still written all over his face. His body was tense, he was trembling, his whole-body trembling to the point even his teeth were shattering, as if he was freezing cold, but he wasn't, if anything he could feel his body heat rising.
"Sam, I don't know where you were. I don't know. I'm just glad you weren't there. I'm glad you didn't have to see that, not that Dad would have allowed you to see what he had done anyhow, but still…"
"Dean," Sam's voice filled with shame, "I told Dad I had some stuff I needed to do. I didn't tell him what, he didn't ask. But, that's when I went to the college, to take a tour and apply."
Dean, looked at Sam a little shocked, but nodded his head in understanding. "Sam, I was sick man, I was so sick. I think I had infections setting in. The only thing Dad was worried about was getting me in shape to satisfy you so you wouldn't ask a million questions. He would drag me out of bed and make me give him pushups or sit ups, anything to strengthen my muscles back up. It only made the pain worse. He would shove food down my throat, that only made me throw up more."
"Then why did you do it?"
Dean turned and looked at him like he was crazy, "I didn't have a choice." He replied. "I could barely stand, I wasn't exactly in a place that I could disobey him. Besides I agreed with Dad, I didn't want you to ask a million questions. I didn't want to answer them."
"Dad told me the story he told you, I kept that story going when you came back. Told you I had caught a virus of some sort while I was hunting, that's why I wasn't feeling well, that's why I was so weak. It didn't take much for you to believe that, guess you had your mind on other things."
Dean stopped with that, he could feel a little bit of resentment coming up. He didn't know why. He didn't know why he was feeling anything that he was feeling right now. Secretly, he had wished his brother would have found out the truth, wished that they could have gotten away, the both of them together. Instead, worse fate laid ahead for Dean while Sam was able to leave the crappy life, at least for a while.
"Anyhow," Dean added, "it's over, done with, what's next Sam?"
It broke Sam's heart to hear him call him Sam instead of Sammy. He knew something was wrong when he called him Sam. He was afraid to push him anymore, so he picked up the book and continued reading. The next entries were repeats of what Dean had just told him, only with less detail. Dad's point of view was a little different than Dean's.
Their dad talked about how weak Dean was, how he needed to make him stronger. That he wasn't anything but a sick, weak, little boy, not a strong grown man like he thought he was. He talked about how much Dean whined about not feeling well and every time he gave him a simple order Dean would complain about being in pain.
"I hate that boy!" John said those words, he said he hated him. "He's nothing but a weak, pathetic excuse of a human, he's not even worthy enough to be called a man." "He's dumber than I ever thought he was, I can see that now, he thinks because he has a fever, because he has a little sweat running from his body, that he doesn't have to do the pushups I ordered him to do? I'm sure my belt can motivate him better than that."
"I swear, if that damn boy pukes one more time, I'm going to shove his damn face in it!" "He's useless, absolutely useless." "Weak" "pathetic" "sorry ass" "no good for nothing".
The words his dad wrote, Dean had heard them a thousand times, but they never hurt any less. Dean knew he was sick, he knew he was hurt. He could literally feel himself dying. He didn't think he had much more life left in him when his dad showed back up. And that was Dad's only thought? He couldn't see past the hunter. He couldn't see him through his father eyes anymore. He was no longer a son to him, he was a soldier, and nothing else.
During his thought process, he didn't realize what was happening in the physical world around him. He didn't realize he had slipped off the bed, onto his knees on the ground. Sam had stopped reading and knelt in front of him. Dean covered his face with both his hands and cried, harder than he could remember.
Sam just wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him so he knew he wasn't alone, he knew Sam was there for him, with him. And, he just let his brother cry. Let him get the emotions, the pain, out. Neither of them knew how long they had sat there. At some point Dean moved his hands, buried his face in Sam's chest and embraced his little brother in his arms, as tight as he could. He didn't want to let him go, ever. He didn't want Sam to let him go. He was so afraid of being alone, he was so afraid of the pain it causes.
He needed his brother, he knew Sam didn't need him but Dean sure as hell needed Sam. Once Dean's tears had slowed, he pushed himself back, he separated from his brother, one hand wiped his tears off his face, the other hand kept a tight hold on the back of Sam's shirt. Dean's entire body was shaking. His head was cloudy. Breath uneven and heavy. He dropped his head backwards, landing it on the mattress he was leaned against, almost as if it was too heavy for him to hold up anymore.
"Www…wwhat's wwwrong wwwith me, Sam?" Dean could barely even stutter his question out of his mouth.
"Nothing, Dean, nothing is wrong with you!"
God, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen all of this before, maybe he didn't care enough to see behind the mask his brother wore every day of their lives. But, nothing was wrong with his brother, he was broken, Sam was there to put him back together, that doesn't mean anything is wrong with him, it just means the situation causing it is wrong… right?
"Dean?" Sam had to ask, he had to! "Do you really wanna kill yourself?"
Dean raised his head, looked his brother straight in the eyes. He saw the concern in Sam's eyes. Sam saw the pain in Dean's.
"Yeah." Dean answered.
No bullshit, no quirky comment, no sarcastic tone, just the raw honest truth. Dean Winchester was broken, he couldn't handle life anymore, couldn't handle the road, couldn't handle the truth he had been hiding for so many years. He was done, no will power to go on another day.
