A.N.: Thanks to Kaz for beta reading. All mistakes are mine.
Sam awoke to the smell of coffee; real, fresh brewed coffee, not the one he had to force down since waking up in the hospital. The soft mattress he was lying on was another thing that told him he wasn't at the hospital anymore. When he opened his eyes, he saw old waterstains on the ceiling. Not the clinical white he had gotten used to over the last few days.
He didn't quite remember much about the motel he was in. The last thing he knew was stepping into their room and stumbling towards the bed. He must have crashed immediately, because he didn't remember anything else after that.
"Good morning." Dean greeted him.
Sam lifted himself up and supported his weight with his elbows. Blinking and wiping the last of the sleep out of his eyes, he looked at his brother.
"Morning." He replied in a sleep filled voice. "Is that coffee?"
Dean grinned. "You bet. There's a Starbucks only five minutes from here. It's exactly as you like it; lots of cream, milk and sugar, hardly any coffee. I made them fill it in a thermos flask, because I didn't know when you'd wake up."
A grateful smile spread over Sam's face as he accepted the coffee. "Thanks. What time is it?"
"Half past five." Dean replied.
Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "In the afternoon?"
Dean laughed at his brother's astonished face. "You really think I'd be up that early - with coffee - in the morning?"
"Man, I hadn't really planned to sleep through the whole day now that I'm finally out. Why didn't you wake me?"
"Because you need the sleep. You can say good bye to the idea that I'm letting you run around all day just because you're out of hospital." Dean gave him his patented older brother stare. "Plus you didn't have a single nightmare, so why should I have disturbed you?"
Sam's smile returned. No nightmares. Dean was right; he had slept through most of the day without any of the dark memories from the last three months to come back and haunt him. Leaving the hospital had been the right decision after all, no matter how much it had infuriated his brother.
Things would get better from now on, Sam was convinced of that.
"Is there a diner nearby?" He asked after having emptied his coffee.
"A diner?" Dean raised a brow. "Sam, what part of staying in bed and not running around didn't you understand? If you're hungry, we'll just order a pizza."
"Pizza?"
"Don't give me that look." Dean glared at him warningly. "We're not leaving this room until …"
"Until when?"
"Until I say so." Dean finished.
"Dean, I'm not …"
A knock on the door interrupted Sam from going on. Dean cast him a last glare before opening the door.
"Bobby, hey."
"Hey, boys. Sam, good to see you awake." The older hunter greeted them.
"Bobby, hi. We were just thinking of what to get for dinner." Sam smiled innocently.
"Perfect timing. I was just about to invite you for a last meal to the motel's restaurant. I'm planning to go home right after." Bobby replied.
"You're going back already?" Sam asked, barely hiding his disappointment.
"Have to return at some point." Bobby shrugged.
"We …" Dean hesitated, biting his lip. "We were just about to order some pizza."
"Oh, I've had enough of that fast food crap. We're going to eat something decent." Bobby countered immediately.
Sam grinned.
"We have to get that boy back to his old strength, right?" The older hunter continued.
"Right." Sam agreed, quickly grabbing his jacket. "Let's go. I'm starving."
He followed Bobby outside before Dean had a chance to object. The older Winchester glared angrily at the two men's retreating backs. "I'll let you get away with this once, Sammy …" He mumbled. "Just wait for tomorrow."
--SPN--
Sam sat quietly at the table, staring at the plate of food in front of him and trying to concentrate on what Dean and Bobby were talking about. His thoughts kept drifting away from the conversation.
Going out for dinner had sounded like a great idea at first and Sam had been excited to just get out, breathe fresh air and see other people than Dean, Bobby, doctors and nurses. But now that he was here, away from what he'd become used to, and surrounded by people who didn't care about his latest vitals, he felt sick. He knew it was ridiculous, but he had the feeling that everyone around him was staring at him, watching his every move. As if they knew exactly what he had done.
And the more he tried not to think about it, the more the memories came back.
The screams of the people he had killed.
Their pleas.
The horror in their eyes when they realized what he was.
"Sam."
The blood on his hands.
"Sam!"
The scent of death in the air.
The power surging through him.
"SAM!"
Sam's head jerked up when Dean's voice finally reached through to him.
"Hm?"
"You okay?" Dean looked worried at him.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all." Sam replied. He tightened his grip around the glass in his hand, willing those memories to disappear. Instead they only got worse.
"You want to get back to the room?
"No. No, it's … it's okay." Sam forced himself to smile.
"We could take the food to the room." Bobby suggested.
"I'm fine, really. Being tired won't kill me." Sam pointed out dryly.
"You sure?" Dean asked, still not satisfied.
"Yes." To prove his point, Sam took a big bite from his burger. He felt like throwing up the second he swallowed it. He forced another fake smile on his face, doing his best to keep his brother from picking up on it.
He sighed, relieved that his ruse had worked when Dean returned to his conversation with Bobby.
He took a long swig of water to swallow down the taste of bile in his mouth. Again he tried to listen to the two other men, but the memories of the last three months kept coming back to him.
He heard the screams.
Stop it!
He kept reminding himself that it hadn't been him doing all this. Just his body, not him. Not him. But there was this darkness inside of him and he knew that it hadn't been there before. He didn't know how to get rid of it.
He saw the fear in their eyes.
Stop it!
Sam wanted to scream it out to the world, let it all out. Instead he repeated the words in his mind, making them his own personal mantra.
He felt their blood on his hands.
Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
And then something snapped inside of him and the memories stopped. Just like that they were gone. At the same moment, the glass he was holding splintered into a dozen little pieces.
Sam stared at the broken glass in front of him, the water dripping off the table. A moment later he raised his head and met the surprised eyes of Dean and Bobby.
"S-sorry." He mumbled.
"So much for being tired." Dean laughed nervously. He quickly fetched a few napkins and swapped down the water. "That are some crappy glasses they have here. We're probably lucky we didn't swallow anything."
"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat. "I, um, I think I get back to the room. Sorry. Bobby, thanks … for everything."
"Don't mention it." Bobby smiled.
"You sure you're all right?" Dean asked worried, ready to jump up and follow his brother outside.
"Yes. I'll just lie down and sleep. You're right, I do still need to rest." He gave the two men another forced smile.
He and Bobby shook hands and after promising to stay in touch, Sam left for his room. There were no haunting memories following him. It was just him. And a growing darkness that he couldn't explain. It should worry him. But it kept the memories away and he just felt grateful for that.
He would deal with what it meant later.
--SPN--
"Bobby, thanks for everything, man. I … I don't know what I would have done without you."
Dean and Bobby stood in the parking lot in front of the old tow truck, packing the last of Bobby's things. They hadn't stayed long after Sam had left, Dean eager to get back to his brother's side. Despite Sam's reassurances that he was fine, Dean wasn't convinced, especially not after what had happened shortly before he had left. It was more than just sheer exhaustion, Dean was sure of that. It worried him, yet he didn't regret going out for dinner. He had enjoyed spending some quality time with Sam and Bobby and even if it hadn't done much to lighten up his brother's spirits, he had at least gotten some food into him without having to force feed his brother. Maybe they would come back here tomorrow. He was glad Bobby had coaxed him into coming here.
Just another thing he owed Bobby Singer for.
"Don't mention it. It's what friends are for." Bobby shrugged the sentiment off.
Dean laughed softly. "Not friends, old man. Family."
Bobby puffed, took off his cap and scratched his head. The slight blush on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Dean.
"Yeah, well …" He cleared his throat. "You boys be careful, all right? You need anything, don't hesitate to call. And if you're in the area …"
"We'll sure come by." Dean smiled.
"Don't forget." Bobby looked at him pointedly and took the hand Dean offered to shake. "Take care of that brother of yours."
"You know I will."
It felt strange for Dean, watching Bobby drive away. He had gotten so used to the older man's presence at his side over the last few months. What he had said was true – he really didn't know how he would have survived the past few months without him.
Once Bobby's car was out of sight, Dean returned to the motel room. As expected, Sam was lying in bed already, deep asleep. Small lines of pain etched his forehead; apparently dinner had not only exhausted his brother, but had brought the pain back too. Almost automatically, Dean took the bottle of painkillers out of the med kit and placed it on the nightstand, next to a glass of water.
It was only as he bend down to put the glass down that he noticed the bleeding cut on the side of Sam's head, almost hidden by his hair.
"What …?"
Before Dean even had a chance to grasp what he was seeing, he felt himself being flung through the room, his back connecting hard with the wooden wall.
"Glad you finally joined us, Dean."
TBC