A/N: OMG! Did you guys see 'Heart' last Thursday?! The last scenes of the episode blew me away! Those guys are awesome actors! It was definitely one of my favourite episodes of season two so far. Just wow!
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Btw, I am so sorry for the late update! I've been really busy with school, writing the essay for my bachelor degree etc etc. It's gonna be pretty crazy for the rest of the semester but I'm gonna work my butt off to get you the last couple of chapters. I'm not gonna drop this story and I promise I will try to update as often as humanly possible.
Thank you everyone for your reviews! I appreciate all your thoughts and comments.
- Kel
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CHAPTER TWELVE
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
DEAN
"Out of the night that covers me
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud:
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed." -- W.E. Henley, 'Echoes'
He slipped out of unconsciousness, mumbling about shapeshifters and werewolves and other unearthly creatures, and the doctor was called immediately. A penlight was flashing in his eyes before he was even coherent and he moaned in discomfort, squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head the other way.
"Take it easy," someone soothed, "You're okay."
It was a voice Dean could not recognize, and his heart quickened instantly.
"Where am I?" It took all of his strength to get those three words out. His mouth was dry as a desert and he was so unbelievably tired it was hard to open his eyes, or even collect his thoughts.
There was a sudden bleep in his ear and he jumped.
"Calm down. I'm just taking your temperature," the formerly soothing, now a little annoyed, voice informed.
'You could've told me that before you stuck that thing into my ear and scared the living bejesus out of me,' Dean wanted to say. But who was he kidding? There was no way in hell he could extract that many words from his brain to form a sentence that long. He sighed inwardly and settled instead for a low growl to express his displeasure.
"Can you state your name for me?"
Sure…
A beat
…if I could remember it.
His silence was unnerving.
"You can't remember your name?" There was that nice, soothing, voice again and Dean wanted to slap whoever that was.
He racked his brain but came up with nothing and was instantly annoyed with himself for it. That kind of question should be an easy one to answer. Realizing grimly that he could probably not answer the pop quiz on himself that he felt coming, he fought his natural instinct to prove himself able and shook his head slowly. Nope, no remembering here. Could you please enlighten me?
"That's okay. It's not unusual with temporary memory loss after a grand mal seizure."
Dean still hadn't been informed as to his whereabouts, but with the 'grand something seizure' talk he had a pretty good guess.
"Do tell." He was pleased to have forced out those simple words. Hopefully the person, probably a doctor, would understand what he was after.
"Your name is Ulrich Schmidt."
Ulrich Schmidt? What an ugly ass name.
He was in blissful ignorance a couple of more seconds before the name triggered his memory and it all came crashing down. He drew a sharp intake of breath under the sudden (figurative) weight of his life and almost screamed at the sharp pain it brought his lungs. It was as painful a reminder as anything of what had happened. His arm curled around his chest protectively and he was surprised to find he was in hospital scrubs.
His surprise was quickly swapped for fear when he realized what they had probably found out while removing his real clothes. His face flushed and his eyes shot open, his fatigue gone in an instant. He struggled up onto his elbows and made a move to get out of bed. The person, who he could now see was a doctor in his thirties, pushed him down again.
"Whoa. Take it easy."
Dean slapped his hands away, a little surprised at his sudden vigour.
"Stop telling me to take it easy!" His voice was raspy and hoarse but it was there at least.
He tried to sit up again but was pushed down once again by the doctor. This time he pushed back.
"Get the hell away from me! You can't keep me here!" He was yelling. A sure sign of distress.
He pushed at the doctor weakly but the doctor held fast, keeping him down with one hand while he pressed a red button by the bed for assistance. Within a couple of seconds an orderly entered the room. He took one look at Dean struggling against the doctor and then turned in the door.
Dean felt panic rise in his chest as he fought to free himself from the doctor's grasp. They knew. He was sure of it. He couldn't stay there.
A couple of seconds later and the orderly was back, this time with a nurse. Dean didn't acknowledge their presence until the orderly came up to the bed to help the doctor hold him down.
"Ulrich, calm down," the doctor said, seeking eye contact with Dean to get his attention. "You're in no shape to be out of bed yet."
"Let go of me." Please.
Behind the doctor the nurse aspirated a clear liquid from a vial into a syringe. She made sure there were no bubbles in it before she addressed the doctor and offered it to him. He accepted it and turned back to Dean. Dean stopped fighting them as soon as he saw the syringe and his eyes widened.
"No…"
The doctor looked at him apologetically.
"It's for your own good, Ulrich."
"Don't give me that." Dean's eyes were fixed on the syringe in the doctor's hand. "Please."
The doctor paused momentarily, seeming to consider what to do, before handing the syringe back to the nurse.
"Okay. But only if you stay in this bed…"
"I will," Dean assured him and sank down on the bed to show that he meant it. The doctor nodded slowly and motioned for the other two to leave. The orderly released Dean's wrist and left the room followed by the nurse.
The doctor stayed a few minutes to talk to Dean about his injuries; to ask who and what had inflicted them and to explain what they were. Dean went with the mugging story yet again and threw in an 'I was knocked out immediately' to fend off questions about how he'd obtained certain injuries. He was relieved that the doctor seemed to buy his story and was even more relieved when he left.
He considered sneaking out of the hospital and go home but then decided against it. The doctor was right, he needed to gain his strength and let his body heal up. And, come to think of it, staying at the hospital meant staying away from the house and Reinhold and Marcus, and he couldn't complain about that.
He eased back on the bed and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that he had dreamt a memory before. In his dream his father had walked up to his bed and had touched his cheek and ran his fingers in his hair while whispering soothing words to him.
He missed his dad. He missed feeling loved and feeling safe. He knew he would probably never see his father again, it had been ten years after all, but he'd found the other third of his family – Sammy - and Sammy meant more than anything to him.
Lying in his bed thinking about his dad and his baby brother a tiny spark of the old Dean flickered to life inside of him. It was the part of the old Dean that didn't take shit from anyone, the fighting part of himself. It was just a tiny spark but it was enough to get Dean thinking about something he hadn't thought about for a long time, namely that of escaping his tormentors. He hadn't believed it possible, not for a long time, but now he thought that maybe, just maybe he could be saved.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
SAM
"There was a pause – just long enough for an angel to pass, flying slowly." -- Ronald Firbank
None of them had spoken a word since they got in the car. It was a welcome silence since none of them had anything to say really.
Sam scratched an itch in the crook of his arm and grimaced. He'd found a red, crusty rash on his arm after his morning shower and it was itching like crazy. Tina glanced at him.
"Itchy?"
Sam thought 'Scratchy' and nodded miserably. However, the rash wasn't what was troubling him most right now. He'd called Dean's house about an hour earlier to find out he was in the hospital. Something bad had happened, he just knew it, and he hadn't been there for Dean. He. Hadn't. Been. There. And it was the only thing he could think about as Tina drove through the city, and parked the Mustang in front of the hospital thirty minutes later. He was out of the car in a flash and half ran towards the entrance. Tina cursed behind him and slammed the car door shut quickly to follow him.
"Crap. Sam, wait!"
-----
The nurse showed them to Dean's room and gave Sam an encouraging smile before leaving. Sam paused at the door, suddenly hesitating. He was afraid of what he might see when he entered the room. Dean's foster mom hadn't really been that informative when she'd told him Dean was at the hospital so Sam had no idea what he was in for when he opened that door. His imagination had run wild and he'd made up several scary reasons to why Dean had been hospitalized, each scenario scarier than the other. Dean had been mugged - again, Dean had had a heart attack, Dean was dying of cancer. There was no stopping the thoughts of doom. He should've known. For the first time in a long time he'd felt happy, genuinely happy - and what happens? Of course something horrible had to happen, why was he even surprised?
Tina touched his arm lightly. "C'mon."
She opened the door with a soft "knock, knock" and went inside, dragging Sam with her.
"Dean."
Dean was looking out the window when they entered but quickly turned towards the door at the sound of Tina's voice. His eyes met Sam's just as Sam stepped through the door and there was a flash of surprise in his eyes before a small smile formed on his lips. The split in his bottom lip made the smile look strained, but not any less real.
"Hey." Dean's voice was raspy but it sounded like he was happy to see them. Sam relaxed immediately.
"Hey." Sam felt a sudden need to run up to his brother and hug him but held back. He'd only known his brother a little over a month but knew all too well that Dean didn't like to be cuddled or fussed over. "How are you feeling?"
Tina sat down on a chair at the foot of Dean's bed and Dean looked over at her. "Hi, Tina."
"Hi, Dean," she replied softly and her eyes looked sad when she smiled to him.
Dean's eyes shifted back to Sam. "I'm okay. Just had a little accident."
Sam frowned. "What kind of accident?"
Dean shrugged. "Some kind of seizure…" Sam's breath hitched in his throat and Dean quickly added; "…but I'm fine now. It was only a one time thing."
Sam didn't look very convinced and Dean quickly changed the subject. "So, how did you guys know I was here anyway?"
Sam drew a short breath. "I called your house and your…mom… told me you were here."
"Oh."
It was a reaction Sam didn't know how to interpret. "Why? Uh, was it wrong to call you?"
Dean's eyes darted to Tina and then back to Sam. "No," he chuckled uncomfortably, "of course not."
For some reason Sam did not believe him.
There was short pause before Dean spoke again. "So what did you want?"
"What?"
"You said you called my house… What did you want?"
Sam cast Tina a deliberate look; he didn't want her to hear this. Tina, bless her, knew him well enough to take the hint. She got up to leave. "I need a cup of coffee. I'll be back in a few." Her hand paused at the door knob and she looked back at Sam and Dean with a wicked grin. "Will that be long enough for ya?"
Sam gave her a look like that of a kid annoyed by their awkward parent and rolled his eyes. Tina laughed and closed the door carefully behind her. As soon as Tina was gone Dean threw his arms out in an 'alright-I'm-listening' manner and looked at Sam curiously.
"Okay, man, you got me alone. What did you want to tell me?"
Sam felt stupid. His plan of having Dean move in with his family suddenly didn't feel like such a bright idea. However, it was too late to back down now.
"Uh, I just thought, uh, that now that we know we're brothers…that maybe…um…you could move in with me." He blushed, feeling like a total idiot and averted his eyes from Dean's gaze.
Dean didn't say anything at first. There was an awkward, dead silence between them and Sam wanted nothing but to bolt right out of there. Then Dean spoke and his voice held a relief and a sincerity that shook Sam.
"Actually…" It came out as a raspy whisper and Dean cleared his throat. "I kinda hate this place…" He looked away and chuckled softly, sadly, hesitating shortly before continuing. "…can't live like this anymore…being slapped around all the time…" He looked back at Sam and this time his eyes were pleading. "I'm gonna take off…you know leave this place for good…and I thought maybe you'd like to come with me…"
Sam stared at him, shocked not only by his brother's plans to run away but also by Dean's confession that his foster dad had in fact been hurting him.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
JOHN
"Heaven
forbid you end up alone and don't know why
Hold on tight wait for
tomorrow, you'll be alright
It's on your face, is it on your
mind, would you care to build a house of your own.
How much
longer, how long can you wait, it's like you wanted to go and give
yourself away." -- The Fray, 'Heaven Forbid'
He was seething, beyond rage, beyond wanting to hurt the people that had hurt his son so much. He wanted to kill them, make their deaths slow and painful, wanted to do to them what they had done to his boy. But he couldn't. He couldn't do it. Not now. Not before CPS' visit. And not before Dean was out of the hospital and fit to leave with him and Sam.
Just thinking about what those people had done to Dean made him sick and he swallowed against the bile in his throat and turned the key in the ignition. First of all, he had to find somewhere to stay - someplace where he could get organized – and then he was going to find that Marcus guy.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
SAM
Dean bit his lip as if regretting what he'd just told Sam and looked away. Sam, who quickly recovered from the initial shock, walked up to him and shuffled his foot across the floor awkwardly.
"I'm tired of my life too," he admitted, "My foster parents are okay and all but I'm happier with you."
Dean looked up at him, uncertainty flaring in his eyes but his voice resolute as he spoke. "If you go with me you can never come back." He wanted Sam to understand that if he chose to leave his life and go with him it would be permanently.
"I don't care." And Sam meant it. He had never felt so close to anyone before – not even Tina. Dean treated him fair, was nice to him. Sam didn't feel alone when he was with Dean, he felt like he belonged. "I want to go with you, Dean."
The door opened before Dean had a chance to reply and Tina sauntered inside with two cups of coffee and a look of relief on her face. She took a sip out of one of the Styrofoam cups and made a sound of pleasure. "God, I really needed a caffeine fix." She walked up to them and handed Dean the other cup. "I hear they are pretty thrifty with beverages around here. Thought you might want something decent to drink besides water and IV fluids."
Dean accepted the coffee with a smile. "Thanks, Tina."
"Don't mention it." She ruffled Dean's hair affectionately and then Sam's before wrapping an arm around his lanky frame. "We have to go, Sammy boy, or your mom's gonna think we eloped or something." She chuckled at the bad joke and turned to leave.
Sam and Dean shared a knowing look.
"I'll call you later, Sammy," Dean said. His voice was still hoarse and raspy, but this time it held a tinge of hope.
TBC
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