A/N- I am so sorry for the mix-up on the chapters these past few weeks! I tried taking down the past Author's Note and instead it ended up so nobody could review! GAH! My apologies!
A/N2- I apologize yet again for the wait on this, this past week I've been doing some major brainstorming for my new story and I've been so excited for it that I almost forgot to get back to work on this one. It's looking to be my most intense one yet (just an advanced forewarning) and I'm looking forward to getting to work on it. Until then though, here's the next chapter for y'all!
Chapter 13
"Dean, will you hold still, damnit?" Bobby demanded with a roll of his eyes as he taped the bandage to Dean's shoulder and mumbled under his breath,
"Damn idjit, I swear, you boys will be the death of me-"
"Bobby, it's good," Dean interrupted, biting back a cry at the pain piercing through his right shoulder as he met Sam's eyes and finally pulled away from Bobby. There was one thing for certain; he was not going to show the pain he was feeling in front of his little brother. No way. He had taken that bullet for Sammy and just by the look of fear that was still present in his wide hazel eyes, it was clear the youngest Winchester was still clearly shaken up.
And speaking of which, Bobby had been so adamant on making sure that he was alright and patching up the wound – which was really just a flesh wound, damnit – while John had tended to Sam that Dean had barely had any time to look his baby brother fully over to make sure he was really okay. Of course, they had been seated directly across from him in their friend's library, so the older brother's eyes had never left Sam's the entire time, but still…
Because really, even though John had saved their lives back there from the disaster that was named Gordon Walker, Sam was still his responsibility. He was still his job, now more then ever and if anybody was going to make sure his brother was completely alright, it was Dean and nobody else. As grateful as he was to their father, and feeling some form of trust returning after that evening, this was one thing that never changed and John was going to realize that.
"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam finally spoke up for the first time in that long, drawn-out hour, ever since Bobby had started tending to his brother,
"Please…please, tell me you're okay…" His voice was quiet and hoarse from the hands that had wrapped around his throat, nearly choking him to death and just the sound of it caused Dean to frown in concern as Sam spoke.
Rising to his feet, inwardly cringing at the pain in his shoulder, Dean shoved it aside as he made it across the room in two strides to the couch where Sam was currently resting on, John sitting right beside him. Clearing his throat as he moved closer, the older brother nodded wordlessly at his father, who immediately moved out of the way and with a calming smile, Dean took the seat next to Sam and wasted no time in gathering him close to his chest,
"I'm alright, Sammy, I promise."
"You got shot, Dean…" Sam's voice hitched slightly as he rested his cheek on his brother's chest and closed his eyes tightly, trying to get rid of the images etched in his brain,
"I thought…I thought you were…"
"I know," Dean closed his green eyes as well and sighed, ignoring the flare in his right shoulder as he moved his arm further along his brother's back and held him tighter. He would put up with any type of pain, any at all, if it meant that his little brother remained safe and that was exactly what he had done that evening. He knew the chances of him getting fatally shot were high, but as soon as he had seen that gun in Gordon's hand aimed directly at Sam's head, there had been no other option in Dean's mind, so without any thought he had dove and covered his brother as much as he could before the shot had sounded in the air and he had felt the bullet ripping through his shoulder.
Thankfully, no stitches had been required and he had never lost consciousness, but the minute he had looked into Sam's face, Dean knew instantly what he was thinking.
His vision. At least a part of it, anyways.
Sam had had that vision over and over again of him being shot to death and just earlier that evening, he had had that same one; so when Dean had looked up and seen the sheer terror and tears in his little brother's eyes as he had trembled uncontrollably, the older Winchester knew this was not something Sam was going to get over instantly, even if he was conscious and alert.
"I thought you were dead," Sam whispered into his big brother's chest as he tried to control the racing of his heartbeat. If there was anything in his life that had ever scared him before, this was the scariest to him; no amount of killing monsters or even the accident ever compared to that feeling he got when he had seen Dean bleeding out because of him,
"Are you sure you're okay, Dean?"
Sighing quietly, the older brother nodded his head and rested his chin on the top of Sam's, all the while meeting John and Bobby's gazes from the other side of the room,
"I'm sure, Sammy." Still holding tightly to his brother as it didn't seem to appear that Sam would be releasing him any time soon, Dean whispered into his ear,
"You know what happened, right, little brother?"
"You were shot."
"Yes, I was shot," Dean sighed once again,
"But I allowed him to shoot me, Sam." Feeling his brother flinch underneath his touch, he continued quickly,
"He had the gun aimed at your head, Sam; he was just about to kill you. I had to-"
"You allowed him to shoot you?" Sam's voice raised slightly, but still kept it quiet enough so that only Dean could hear him,
"Why?"
Frowning, Dean pulled away and looked directly into Sam's confused eyes,
"Because he was gonna kill you, that's why." He narrowed his eyes at his baby brother and shook his head,
"Why else would I do it, Sam?" When Sam started to open his mouth to object, Dean held up a hand, silencing him before he could get a word out,
"Not a word. I told you I would protect you at all costs, and if that means jumping in front of a bullet to protect you…then so be it. I don't care what I have to do, Sammy." Reaching out to pull his brother back into his arms, Dean softened his voice once more,
"Remember that, alright?" He paused for a moment before whispering, more to himself then to anybody else,
"But Gordon Walker's dead now. He's getting that ass of his salted and burned. He's gone and you're safe."
From the other side of the room, John leaned against the doorjam of the entrance to the library, looking back and forth between Bobby and his two sons, the youngest clinging once again to his brother like a lifeline. Clearing his throat, he met Bobby's gaze briefly before nodding to the dead body of Gordon Walker, which still lay in the hallway,
"I'll take care of this bastard here. Watch out for these two?"
"Of course, you damn idjit," The older hunter replied with a roll of his eyes. He took his cap off and rubbed the back of his head with a slight wince, feeling the bump which was already starting to form but chose to ignore it as he placed his cap back on and met John's eyes,
"Get rid of that body, John; and we're gonna have to cover out tracks if we don't want any of his buddies come knocking on my door." He scoffed and watched as the oldest Winchester patriarch walked towards the dead body of the other hunter who had been so intent on killing Sam, threw it over his shoulder and started towards the back door.
As soon as he slid the back door shut with his foot, Gordon's limp body draped over his shoulder, John finally let out the long huff he had been holding in for the past hour, ever since he had driven that bullet into the other man's skull,
"I warned you, Walker." He grumbled under his breath, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible so nobody could hear him,
"I warned you to take care of it and now you're paying the price by failing." As he walked down the steps, he waited until he was a safe distance from Bobby's house before he continued, anger and hatred present in his voice,
"There's only one other option now, you son of a bitch. I'm gonna have to take out my own abomination of a son."
And this time, he would not fail.
0000
"I gotta tell you, dad, you surprised me these last couple of months," Dean shook his head in awe a couple of days later as he stood in the kitchen, a beer bottle in his hand and his eyes staring up at his father as he swung his bag over his shoulder,
"Although what you did for Sammy the other day…"
"Son," John took a step closer and rested a firm hand on Dean's uninjured shoulder, squeezing slightly,
"I told you that you could trust me." He met his oldest son's eyes and arched an eyebrow,
"Do you trust me, Dean?"
Raising both eyebrows in surprise at the question, Dean set his beer bottle down on the kitchen table and studied his father for a few seconds. Did he trust him again? Yes, his father had made some of the worst choices imaginable over the past couple of months since the accident. Yes, he had said and done things that, at the time, seemed completely unforgiveable, what with blaming Sam for the car accident and not killing him while he was possessed…while instead, he should have thanked his youngest for saving his life. It was one thing to be his regular asshole self, but another altogether to act like a complete stranger.
But in the last couple of months, even Dean had to admit to himself that John had been pulling out all the stops on attempting to make up for those choices he had made, whether it came to not losing his temper or not pushing his oldest back into the hunt, but most all, his father had literally saved Sammy's life from one of the most lethal hunters around and if that didn't say something, nothing would. But as far as trust went, Dean wasn't so certain in that area; if he was completely honest with himself, the only people he fully trusted was his brother and Bobby and that was because their family friend had proven himself time and time again and had never let them down and Sammy was Sammy. He was his little brother and that pretty much said it all.
"Let me tell you this, dad," Dean finally started to answer, allowing a small smile to cross his face for his father's sake,
"You're gonna have to still work to prove yourself to completely earn my trust and Bobby's trust back, but we do have an understanding, dad. Just promise me you'll stay in contact with Sam, alright? I don't know if he'll be able to stand it if he loses you completely again."
"I promise."
"Don't go ignoring him again once you leave this place, dad," Dean lowered his voice a notch, as the last thing he wanted was to wake his brother up from the nap he was currently taking,
"Don't pretend like he doesn't exist and more importantly, don't expect to ever just up and leave him like you demanded of me a few months ago, dad."
"Dean, we've already been over this-"
"If you want me to trust you again, you'll understand this and do it." The younger hunter interrupted, folding his arms across his chest,
"Okay, dad?"
Anger churning in his gut at his son's words, John was tempted to just say "fuck this", leave and never look back. Was all of this really worth it, just so that he could eliminate the problem that Gordon Walker was unable to take care of? Memory after memory swarmed his brain as he recalled finding out exactly what Sam's "destiny" was supposed to be in the future, the evil that was inside of him at this very moment.
He remembered so clearly that day when he found all that out and that was the day when his entire world had shifted and he had seen things with a much clearer perspective; but he had never intended on hunting down his son unless things came to a head and he had no choice. Of course, he had never seen the accident coming, much less Sam's brain damage and paralysis, which led to Dean once again taking his little brother's side and not thinking about the bigger picture.
Eventually, John knew there was no other option and he had to face the cold, hard facts. Sam was a monster, he wasn't human and he had to be taken out, no questions asked. Nothing was going to change; Sam was a much easier target then he had ever been and not even Dean would be able to fix this.
He was going to have to be killed and Dean was going to have to live with it. Eventually, he would see the truth, he would see why it was necessary; he might hate him for a period of time, but once he saw things from John's perspective…The older hunter nodded his head more to himself then anything and allowed himself to smile down at his oldest son reassuringly as he squeezed his good shoulder again.
"Of course, son." He glanced over his own shoulder towards the bedroom where Sam was currently resting,
"I'm going to go and say goodbye to your brother, alright?"
Lifting an eyebrow slightly and studying John's face for a moment and not seeing any lies hidden underneath, Dean slowly nodded his head in agreement just as Bobby walked through the kitchen door. Meeting his friend's eyes, he asked,
"Is Sammy still sleeping, Bobby?"
"He's out like a light at the moment, Dean," The gruff hunter replied with a small sigh,
"He woke up briefly complaining of a headache-"
"Why didn't you get me, Bobby?" Ignoring his father standing right in front of him and the question he had yet to answer, Dean started to make his way to the doorway when Bobby grabbed his arm and brought him to a halt.
"He's fine, Dean," Bobby rolled his eyes to the ceiling,
"I gave him some pain meds and he was out within a matter of seconds." He walked over to his fridge and reached in to grab a beer,
"You leaving, Johnny?"
"After I say goodbye to Sam," John searched Dean's green eyes once again,
"Will you allow for me to do at least that?"
"As long as you don't wake him up," The older brother ordered, narrowing his eyes sternly,
"He went through too much after Gordon Walker banged him up and his head's still hurting. Just don't wake him up."
"I wouldn't think of it, Dean," John grinned and dumped his bag down on the floor before making his way through the double doors and down the hall towards the added on bedroom. Once Dean and Bobby where out of eyesight and hearing range, he allowed the smile to drop from his face and his dark eyes turned cold and hard, an idea slowly starting to form in his mind as he walked slowly down the hall.
This was not going to be easy. Hell, it was going to be even harder then hiring Gordon to take Sam down, and it would take even longer given the fact that he was going to have to do this behind Dean's back. But if that's what it took, then that's what he was going to do. Patience was not one of his virtues, but John Winchester knew that there was no other way, especially with Dean playing his usual mother-hen routine around Sam.
Pushing the door open and seeing his youngest laying flat on his back, John shut the door quietly and left the light off before he made his way over to Sam's bed and stood, staring down at his face, studying him for a few silent moments. A lot of the tension and pain had left his youngest son's features and John watched as Sam's chest rose up and down with each breath. Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and fingering the Colt, which still held the one bullet, John looked at it for a moment and then back down at his youngest – no, the monster wearing his son's face. His son hadn't been in that meat suit ever since Mary had died; but ever since the accident…
Lowering his hand from the Colt, as he knew that this was not the time or the place to take care of the problem, John tucked it back into his jacket and patted it. It needed to be safe; that one bullet was still going to be used on Sam when the time was right, but that time was not now. Kneeling down beside the bed and narrowing his dark eyes in hatred at Sam's sleeping form, John reached a hand out and placed it on the younger boy's head, pressing his thumb down hard on his forehead. A grin formed on his face when he heard a slight whimper escape the monster's lips, exhilaration flowing through his body at the noise; it was about time Sam felt a little bit of the pain he had been feeling for over 20 years.
"And he couldn't even put a bullet into your head, Sammy," John sneered as he moved his hand from the younger boy's head just as the whimpers stopped and Sam slowly drifted off into dreamland again,
"That'll change." Ignoring the slight hesitation that this was a very bad idea, that Dean and Bobby would still find out and have his head on a platter, John shook his head and allowed any small amount of guilt to fall from his shoulders as he glared down at the still sleeping Sam,
"I guarantee, by the time this is all over, Sam, you'll have experienced the same type of pain my Mary went through."
000
Sam could have sworn he had heard someone talking to him by his bed; he could have sworn he had felt pain slicing through his head as he slept on as well. But before he knew it, the pain was gone, as well as the voice…it was a familiar voice, but whose voice was it?
Feeling himself starting to wake up when he heard another voice that he would recognize anywhere, Sam allowed his eyes to open sleepily and smiled slightly when he met his big brother's faze,
"Hi, Dean…"
"Hey yourself, kiddo," Dean smirked as he tucked the covers gently around his little brother before handing him a cup of water, which Sam took readily,
"How's your head? You feeling any better?"
"Still hurts…" The younger brother whispered before taking a long drink and reached a hand out to rubbed his forehead where he had felt that intense pain as he slept and winced when he felt it again,
"Dean…?" He met his brother's eyes, the fear from a few days ago coming back at him full force,
"Dean…you're sure you're okay?"
"How many times have I had to answer that, Sammy?" Dean arched an eyebrow and smirked again but guilt flowed through him when he saw the deep worry etched on Sam's face,
"I'm fine, little bro; that's the God's honest truth. It was just a flesh wound, your vision didn't come true, I'm still alive and kicking and I'll continue to do so until I'm old and gray." At Sam's small chuckle, Dean was unable to stop himself from smiling as well,
"See? Everything's fine."
"Alright…" Sam whispered before he winced more in pain.
"You sure you're feeling alright, Sammy?" Dean frowned. Their father had left hours ago and while he had been in Sam's room, the older brother had not once heard Sam wake up. When his brother didn't answer, Dean pushed further,
"Sam?"
"I'm okay, Dean," Sam shook his head in confusion; he had to had just imagined that voice,
"I just thought I heard someone talking to me while I was asleep…"
"That was probably dad; I allowed him to come into your room to say goodbye," He looked straight into the younger boy's eyes and never broke contact as he asked the next question,
"He didn't wake you, did he?"
"N-No," With another shake of his head, Sam attempted to sit up but was soon pushed down by his brother's hands,
"I'm alright, Dean…"
"You're still in pain, though, after all those whacks on the head the other day and nearly getting strangled to death," Dean pointed out as he gently pushed his stubborn brother back down once more,
"You're gonna sleep some more, Sammy; that's not a request." He took the now empty glass from his brother's slightly trembling hands and placed it on the nightstand in between their beds.
"Don't go?" Sam whispered back tiredly, feeling himself starting to fall back to sleep, but before he allowed his eyes to slide shut again, he grabbed onto Dean's wrist and asked,
"Dean, will dad come back?"
"If he keeps his promises, and actually paid attention to what I warned him about, he will," Dean nodded his head with a reassuring smile,
"Now go back to sleep, you stubborn little brother." He watched as Sam's eyes slid shut before the words were even completely out of his mouth and after making sure his brother was sound asleep, Dean rose to his feet and settled onto the bed beside him, his eyes never leaving Sam.
Yes, his father had made many promises these past couple of months and he had kept them thankfully; he was even treating Sammy like a human being again instead of an invalid. But there was one thing for certain and Dean knew that, if his father even so much as put a foot out of line and hurt Sam again, the renewed understanding between them would be over and done with. Hell, Dean didn't even feel guilty about the possibility of disowning his own father if that's what it took.
Because Sam came first; he would always come first.
And Dean could only hope, for both Sam's sake and his own, they wouldn't ever have to get to that point.
0000
TBC