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"A suicide note? Care to fill me in on what that's all about, son?"
"It was from two years ago, Bobby. See, remember when I was talking to you outside the motel room?" Bobby nodded so he continued. "Well, I went back in after we spoke to try to talk to Sam. He was cleaning the guns and this weird look crossed his face…"
"What look?"
Dean thought back. "It was strange… almost tragic. I can't describe it, Bobby."
"That's fine, what happened after that?" He encouraged.
Sighing, Dean continued. "I thought he was going to shoot himself with the gun, so I charged him and pulled him outside to talk to him… He acted like he didn't know why I was so freaked out. I could have sworn he tilted that damned gun in his direction. I called him out on it and he said that he wasn't gonna do anything. I told him that he shouldn't even be thinking about it…" Dean's breathing came faster. Remembering everything and looking at it through fresh eyes was agonizing. "He said… He…"
Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Dean, it's okay. You don't have to go over this again."
"No, Bobby. It's fine… You're family, you need to know what happened. His exact words were, 'Have you never thought about it?' He basically told me that he'd thought about it more than once…"
"What about the pills… Did he try to-"
"No. He said he was telling the truth that it was an accident and I believe him." Dean placed his head in his hands. "But he did tell me about the one time he almost ended it all. He was serious about it… That's where the note came from. He'd written a suicide note to me, went into the bathroom and held a gun to his head." He massaged his temples. "The only reason he didn't do it was because of a fluke. It was slow in the shop so my boss let me off early; Sam had been in the bathroom and was about to pull the trigger when I came in. He said that he couldn't do it when I was there so he hid the note and acted as if nothing was wrong. He also said that he'd been feeling depressed since he was fucking eleven years old. Eleven! He'd been feeling like shit for six years and I hadn't even noticed… What a shitty excuse for a brother I am." Dean sank further in his chair, wallowing in self-loathing.
"Dean." Bobby waited for Dean to lift his head and meet his gaze. "You are the best brother I've ever seen. Sam is lucky as hell to have you around, so don't go kickin' yourself. You know that kid loves you more than anything. That's why he wasn't able to do the deed when you came home. Sam is stubborn as a mule and if he gets an idea in his head, it's hard to just let go of it. He needs our help to get him through it… And I know with you as a big brother, he's gonna have a better chance at makin' a physical and emotional recovery than damn near anyone. So chin up, son."
"But, Bobby…" Dean started.
"Don't talk back to your Uncle Bobby, son." Dean looked above Bobby's shoulder to see his father leaning heavily against the doorframe. "He knows what he's talking about."
Dean bit his lip, wondering how much of the conversation his father had heard. "How much did you hear?"
His dad smiled sadly. "Enough." He slowly made his way to where Sam was laying. He softly pushed the wayward bangs from Sam's eyes and looked up, tears had formed in his hazel eyes. "I-" he cleared his throat, "I read the… Um. I read this." His father held up Sam's letter and placed it down on the table beside Sam's bed. Dean and Bobby remained quiet. "How… How long has he… Did you know?"
The heart rate monitor spiked. "Sam?" Dean rose from his seat and placed a hand on Sam's sweaty forehead. The heat radiating from him was almost too uncomfortable for his hand to touch. Dean frantically pressed the call button. "Sammy, can you hear me?"
"What's going on?" A woman's voice entered the room, but Dean's eyes were glued on his baby brother.
"I-I don't know! We were just in here talking and then all the sudden the heart thing went off… He's burning up!" Dean explained before being forced away.
"Samuel? Samuel can you hear me?" The lady spoke in a tense voice. All of the sudden, Sam's eyes flew open and he began gagging.
"Sammy!" Dean pressed forward.
"De." Tears trailed down his brother's cheeks as he struggled to stop his coughing fit.
Sam was reaching out, searching. Dean ignored the protests coming from the nurse and clutched his brothers flailing hands. "I'm right here, Sammy." He calmed him down enough that the coughing had all but ceased. His breathing was still heavy and ragged, but steady. Dean silently cursed as Sam once again slipped into unconsciousness. "What the hell was that about?" Dean turned his questioning glare on the nurse who was now writing something down on her notepad.
"He did have a tube inserted in his throat earlier, it's probably just irritated." She walked up to him and placed thermometer in Sam's ear. "He's running a fever of 105.3… Damn." She rushed into the hall and came back shortly with a larger man and their doctor. "Temp's one-oh-five, we need to move him into an ice bath immediately to cool him." Dean didn't even have a chance to ask anything else. His brother was swiftly wheeled away, leaving the three men alone.
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Was he in hell? It sure felt like he was in hell… He felt as if he were burning alive. Sam felt himself being moved and hands were touching him. Demons! Sam started fighting them off. He wouldn't let them take him; he wouldn't let himself become one of them.
"He's not lucid. Annie, we need to sedate him." A voice that sounded far away spoke. Not lucid? Maybe I'm not in hell… But if I'm not here, where am I? Sam stopped fighting and slowly parted his lids. The first thing he registered was bright white light, then other forms came into view.
"Wait, he's coming to." Another voice said. "Samuel?" How did they know my name?
"Mmm?" Sam mumbled.
"Samuel, we're here to help you. You're in the hospital." Well if I'm in the hospital, why do I feel like my flesh is sizzling off? "You have a very high fever, we are going to place you in this ice bath." Sam let his gaze lazily follow the doctor's finger that pointed to a tub on the floor. He then realized he was clad in only boxers. Well, if that was going to help the burning, he'd let them do anything they wanted. Sam nodded and then was lifted up.
He was placed on two unsteady feet, the floor made slippery from his sweat. The nurse lifted one of his legs and placed it in the chilled water. Sam tried to help with the other leg as they lowered his body down into the water. He vaguely felt a sharp twinge in his side, but it paled in comparison to the overall heat of his body. The second he was submerged to his neck in the frigid water, he began to shake violently. The water that sloshed around his face and body created a white-hot pain and it was felt throughout his entire frame. Every part of him that was exposed was blotted down with a cool cloth by one of the nurses. Sam scrunched his eyes shut in pain, repressing a moan that threatened to escape his lips.
Sam couldn't be sure how long he was in the bath. It could have been minutes or hours, but finally he was pulled out. His teeth chattered and his body was racked with tremors. His eyes danced around the room, not focusing on any one thing.
"Here." A male voice caught Sam's attention. He was standing beside a hospital bed and gestured for the other man who was holding Sam upright to put him there.
Sam only had one thing on his mind. "Wh're's De?" His sluggish tongue slurred the words out. He was surprised the doctor knew what he'd said.
"Your brother is waiting in your room along with your father and uncle." He explained as he began wheeling Sam out of the small room and down the hall. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he kept himself awake. Sam had to apologize for how dumb he was to go after that damn black dog by himself. The most troubling thing was the fact that his father was there. He thought that his dad wouldn't want to see him again… Sam remembered seeing his face when he'd killed the beast… How long ago was that? How long had he been in the hospital for? He had so many questions, but he forgot everything when he was brought into his room and was surrounded by a trio of tired, worn hunters.
The first face Sam singled out was his brother's. "Dean." He could see the relief melt away the worry lines as he lit up in a dazzling smile.
"Oh thank God, Sammy." Dean waited a moment for the bed to be wheeled in place and for Sam to be hooked up to all the monitors.
"Sam's temperature is still high, but it's not as dangerous as before. We'll give you a minute to talk, but then we'll need to get in and clean Sam's wounds to prevent any further infection." Dr. Pellago began. "I've never seen such a rapid recovery in my days as a doctor… You are a very special young man." He nodded to the others in the room and then exited.
Sam kept his eyes downcast, avoiding his father's gaze. "Sam." Dean's voice was now right beside him. He glanced up to see Dean watching him concernedly.
Sam had so much to say, so he just let the dam spill over. "Dean, I am so sorry. I can't even tell you how sorry I am. I just wanted to prove I was good enough. That I could take on one fuckin' black dog by myself… That I wasn't worthless. Bobby?" Sam turned so he could see him. "Bobby, I should have listened to you. I hope you can forgive me for going against what you told me." Sam took a fleeting look at his father then leveled his gaze at his hands that were nervously twitching.
"Sam?" His father spoke in a soft voice that was so out of character; it forced Sam to look up. "What you did… It was reckless, and foolish." Sam bit his lip but he kept his eyes focused on his dad. "But it was also brave. And I'm damn proud of you." He slowly came towards Sam and placed a hand lovingly on the side of his face. Sam unconsciously leaned into the touch. "I… Well, Dean found this." Sam regarded the small, folded piece of paper his father held out in his palm.
No… It couldn't be- "Is that…?" Sam trailed off. He remembered telling Bobby to let Dean know where it was, but he didn't think they'd already have it.
"We need to talk about some things…" Just then, Sam's saving grace entered the room.
"Sir, I'm sorry but I need to tend to Sam's injuries. Could you all please step out for just a moment? I won't be too long." She seemed very pleasant.
"Okay." His father responded and left the room with Bobby right behind him. Dean was the last to leave.
"I'll be right back, Sam." He promised then shut the door behind him.
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The nurse had finished cleaning his wounds and started to leave. "I'll let your family know they can come back in." She smiled warmly and walked out of the room.
Sam wasn't alone for long. About a minute later, the door creaked open. He looked up expecting Dean and was slightly taken aback when his father walked shyly into the room. "I asked them if I could have a few minutes to talk with you… alone." His dad began as he pulled a chair over and took a seat next to Sam. Something on Sam's face must have made his father worried, because he continued by saying, "If that's okay with you…?"
"Y-yeah…?" It sounded like a question.
His father laughed once. "Should've seen Dean's face when I told him I wanted to talk to you without him. He was about to have a fit that he couldn't come rushing back in here." Sam smiled, he could only imagine. "I really need to have a talk with you about some things. Some important things…" He once again held up the paper from before.
"That was from a long time ago, Dad." Sam's voice came out thick.
"From what I heard, this was only two years ago… And Dean said you'd been feeling this way since you were younger." His father corrected. Sam remained silent. "Well, I'm just going to start talking and you can cut in whenever you feel like you want to." Sam slowly nodded his head.
His father rubbed a hand through day old stubble and started. "Sam… Dean and I would not be better off without you. We need you in our lives. I need you. So don't you ever think I never wanted you, because the day you were born was one of the happiest days of my life. I don't have many… The first was the day I met your mother. The second was when I married her. The third was when we had Dean. And the last was when we had you. If you were successful in your attempt, you'd kill a part of your brother and me with you. I never wanted to get rid of you. I… Sometimes I just don't think before I say things. When we had that fight and I punched you…" He trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It's okay, Dad. I deserved it." Sam tried to soothe his father.
"No it's not okay, Sam! I was wrong for doing that to you. I was wrong for kicking you out. I regretted doing it the second I said it. But being the stubborn ass that I am, I didn't want to back down. I'd hoped you would come back… or hell, not even have left in the first place. You and I are so much alike. I know you don't see that now." He sighed heavily. "You also have to understand that you are not at fault for your mother's death. The yellow eyed demon is responsible."
Sam sighed. "Dad… She was protecting me. If I-"
"Sam, no. It was not your fault. I wouldn't lie to you about that. And I promise we'll get the thing that is at fault." His father held his gaze until Sam finally nodded. "I love you, Sammy. Everything I do is because I love you boys… I guess I'm too hard on you. It's just because I worry about you more. You're my baby boy… And the mere thought of losing you to yourself is maddening." His dad raised his tear filled eyes to Sam, waiting for him to say something.
"I don't know what to say, Dad. I really don't." Sam felt horrible for making his dad feel this way.
His father balled up the note in his hands and tossed it in the trashcan. "You don't need to keep this with you… Dean told me outside that you kept it to remind yourself of why you were still here. From this point forward, if you feel like you are on the edge, you come to me. I'll always be here for you, Sammy. I always have been."
Tears fell down Sam's face. His father was finally letting down his wall and Sam was getting a glimpse of how he must have been before what happened all those years ago. What he saw before him was a caring father, not the cold, military sergeant. His dad stood and wrapped his arms around Sam, careful of the IV and other monitors. "I'm so sorry…"
His dad let go and held a finger under Sam's chin until he met his gaze. "Don't be."
"Ahem." Dean loudly cleared his throat. He and Bobby were standing in the door. "Can we come in now?"
"Yeah, we're good. Right, Sammy?" His father responded.
"We're good." Sam smiled back at his father. For the first time in so very long, Sam really believed that they were indeed good.
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This story is coming to a close! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter… There should be only one more chapter after this, so stay tuned! Please review.
