Chapter 21
Week 1
Throughout the next week, the three hunters tried to rest, heal, and come to terms with all that had happened and what they might be facing in the future. Each handled things in his own way, but all tried to keep busy so that the uncertainty of Derek and Brecken's threat didn't overwhelm them.
Bobby made himself available to Sam and Dean as needed. He ran errands for the boys, gathering food and supplies, and watched over them as they rested and recovered. When not needed, he spent time tinkering on his truck. He offered to tune up Dean's Impala, but the young hunter shooed him away claiming his baby had discriminating taste and only liked to be handled by him. It took Bobby about an hour to get rid of the headache he got from rolling his eyes so high up inside his head. Several times the hunter attempted to relax by reading the newspaper, but soon found out it was hopeless as the Winchester boys always started hovering whenever he did.
Sam spent most of the week resting and regaining some of his strength with Dean close by his side to help and encourage him along the way. Each day the younger sibling grew steadier, and his healing ribs and increasing lung capacity enabled him to be less winded and dizzy when he moved around the apartment. His muscles, though they complained, seemed eager to resume their work and he grew eager to push them to their limits and regain his independence. His hand experienced tingling sensations and once in a while a jolt, as if electricity was being conducted through his elbow to his middle finger. While painful, he was hopeful it was a sign that he would be regaining sensations in his healing limb soon.
Dean knew Sam was feeling better because of his growing restlessness and his constant excuses for get up and out of bed. It was getting more and more difficult to convince his little brother to rest. Since Sam seemed so eager to move around and gain his independence, Dean decided it was time for his little brother to put that energy to good use…in the form of physical therapy.
Much to the youngest Winchester's regret, Dean insisted on absolute rule over his training and made Sam pinky swear to cooperate if he wanted his help. It wasn't more than ten minutes into his first routine that Sam realized his mistake, but a pinky swear was a pinky swear and he knew he had to honor it…well, that, and Dean threatened to kick his ass if he didn't ,and as of yet, Sam was not strong enough to prevent him.
Sam had a few emotional ups and downs along the way, but his demeanor was one of hopefulness as he embraced the forgiveness of his departed loved ones, the hope of having a divine purpose rather than a demonic one, and the assurance that Dean was now determined to stand side by side with him and was no longer resigned to being a martyr for his sake. The hope he felt inside gave him new strength and courage and he found his physical body seemed to be recovering faster as a result.
While Sam seemed to be miraculously improving to the surprise of the other two hunters, Dean seemed to be losing ground and both Bobby and Sam were growing concerned.
Dean's shoulder developed an infection early on in the week and Bobby worried he'd need to reopen the wound to check it for foreign materials that might have been left behind in his initial surgery. Luckily, a high dose of potent antibiotics helped the sickened Winchester and they were spared the unwanted procedure. Even fevered, Dean insisted on helping Sam. His constant straining, in his efforts to do so, pulled and tugged on his wound and significantly slowed its healing.
As much as Sam tried to do things on his own and free Dean to take care of himself, the older sibling wouldn't let him, wouldn't stop fussing over him, and Sam was becoming concerned. It was as if his brother was trying to compensate for something, but Sam couldn't quite put his finger on what.
On top of Dean's slow healing progress, he was also unable to get rest. It wasn't that he tried to stay awake, it was that he couldn't fall asleep. He feared that if he were to shut his eyes even for a moment, something might happen to Sam. He found himself checking the walls for red laser lights and listening for footsteps in the apartment or outside in the parking lot below.
When exhaustion finally claimed the oldest Winchester in sleep, his unconscious mind was assaulted by dark dreams, horrifying nightmares, always involving Sam, suffering atrocities, and him powerless to do anything to prevent them. Night after night his unconscious mind lay witness to Sam's death over and over again. The gruesome images of his little brother, lying mortally wounded in his arms as his blood slowly drain out of him, whispering his name with his last dying breath, followed him into the waking hours of the morning and he found each day he'd wake up less rested than he had been the night before.
Bobby and Sam worried about him as they saw the growing dark circles under his eyes and changes in his behavior, specifically in regards to Sam. He was becoming more and more protective and defensive of his little brother. Whenever either one approached him about it, he shrugged them off using humor to cover up his pain and mask his tortured soul.
Refusing to give up, Sam was always watching and waiting for the perfect moment to get his brother to open up. Dean had done so much for him and he wanted to offer his older brother the friendship and love he had received in the hopes of helping Dean return from the obviously dark place he seemed to have gotten lost in. As of yet, that moment hadn't come and the two existed in the playful banter they had grown accustomed to. It was refreshing and safe and for now was where Dean felt most comfortable. Sam willingly obliged.
Bobby, Dean and Sam also spent the week waiting for updates from Joshua. Earlier on, the hunter had reported promising news that Derek was still in jail and hadn't had any new visitors. A few days later, Joshua announced that Brecken was on the move. Based on the conspiracy hunter's comments to local hunters, he was off planning a hunt, the details of which no one knew. Days later, Joshua was still attempting to track down the hunter to determine his level of threat. While the information wasn't much, it was all they had to go on and the boys tried to take comfort in knowing that Joshua was on it and would eventually find the hunter. They only hoped that the hunt Brecken was planning didn't involve Sam and that if it did, Joshua would find the conspiracy hunter before he found them.
oooOOOooo
Week 2
A second week brought no new word from Joshua. Both boys considered the possibilities of why that was, but neither talked about them. Instead they kept themselves busy. Sam found enjoyment in his independence, what little of it he had regained, and pushing his body to its limits to get more. Dean found enjoyment in pushing Sam, not only in the physical therapy program he had developed, but in other ways as well...
"O-o-o-o-o-o-nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnne," Dean counted loudly, over exaggerating how long Sam was taking to walk from one end of the hallway to the other.
It was one of their typical routines to build up Sam's strength, stability, and stamina. Sam did the walking, Dean the counting. Dean shadowed Sam along the way, making sure he was not gonna land flat on his face.
Sam found the shadowing annoying, but understood why his brother did it. He still had the goose egg on his forehead to remind him in case he should forget. When he got to the end of the hallway he had a tremendous urge to bang his head on the door. He figured even striking the knot on his head had to be less painful than listening to Dean counting out his pace.
Realizing there was little he could do to end his misery, Sam turned around and began the long trek back, sleep walking style.
"Twooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…"
While Sam appreciated his brother's dedication to helping him get stronger, Sam found this particular routine irritating and couldn't help but wonder if its purpose was more to strengthen his self control than his physical stamina.
"Threeeeeee…."
"Dude! Would you quit it," Sam snapped as he began his third lap. "This is annoying enough as it is without listening to you whine out each lap from beginning to end."
"Aw, c'mon Sammy, I'm helping you here," Dean teased as he sauntered close behind his brother.
"Oh yeah? And how's that?" Sam questioned stopping abruptly allowing his brother to crash into him proving his point that his over protective presence was far from helpful.
Dean frowned and rubbed his jaw which now ached from impacting with his brother's boney body. "I'm providing motivation," he quipped with a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eye. "You want me to stop? Then move your ass fast enough so that the numbers aren't so loooong and draaaaawn out."
"You hate me," Sam muttered as he continued sauntering on towards the end of his third lap.
".rrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee," Dean continued mockingly.
Sam started the fourth lap at a much faster pace. Dean quickened his step to keep up.
"Foooooooooour. See that, it's working," Dean quipped when his brother completed his lap in half the time.
"If I do the next one in under five seconds, will you shut up?" Sam asked attempting to bargain his way out of his brother's torture.
"Sure," Dean agreed confident that Sam could move that fast if he tried. His brother hadn't been giving his all and Dean knew it, and he was eager to add to the difficulty level of his little brother's workout once he proved that he could.
Sam eyed his brother suspiciously when he was so quick to give up his heckling. Unaware he would be bringing himself more physically challenging routines by being successful, he set off at a much faster pace eager to shut his irritating brother up. He was surprised the quicker pace felt no differently than his slow, turtle like speed. It didn't hurt more, wear him out more, or even make him shaky. He reached the end of the hallway and slapped his hands on the door in record time. Sam turned to his brother with a big smile eager to collect on the deal he had just secured.
"Fiive" Dean finished aloud. His word almost sounded normal in its length.
"Okay?" Sam sarcastically asked, not really intending it as a question, but more as a statement.
"Close," Dean evaluated unscrupulously.
"What do you mean close?!!! I did it in five!"
"No, it was more like fiive," Dean enunciated.
Sam scowled.
"Okay, man, I'll give it to you," Dean laughed having the time of his life annoying the heck out of his little brother. "It's a hell of a lot better than that pathetic saunter you were doing earlier. I was practically falling asleep following behind you."
"Good, you needed the rest," Sam teased back.
"Alright, smart ass. Now go to ten and add knee bends at each end and then you'll be done for the night."
Sam looked over at Bobby who was reading his paper, pretending not to be listening. His smirk on his face told otherwise.
Sam sought out the older hunter's sympathy. "See, I told you. He's Dr. Torment-o"
Bobby smiled. "I'm staying out of this, boys. In fact, I'm gonna go get some fresh air," he added as he threw on his jacket and pulled his keys from his pocket. " Listening to you girls squabble is enough to drive anyone crazy!" He opened the door and called out over his shoulder, " And don't wait up for me, either!"
Dean just stared at the retreating huntsman as he disappeared out into the darkness, envious that he wasn't going out for a night on the town himself. He turned back to his little brother.
"I don't squabble," Dean declared indignantly.
"Yeah, Dean, you do," Sam corrected him.
"Pfffffhhh," the older sibling puffed out.
Dean frowned at Sam and then suddenly the downward corners of his mouth began to curl up at the edges and Sam knew he was in trouble.
"sssssssssiiiiiiiiiii …" Dean obnoxiously began again, trying to get his brother to get his rear in gear.
Sam took off down the hallway grumbling something about Dean breaking the deal.
"So sue me!" Dean hollered playfully back as he hurried to catch up to his now winded brother. Dean continued following right behind him to the end.
After completing the ten laps with knee bends at the ends, Sam was exhausted and ready to turn in. Dean helped him get changed and cleaned up when he needed it, but for the most part, Sam did it himself. Dean tossed him an extra blanket in case he might need it and Sam settled into bed.
"Thanks, mom," Sam whispered.
"Don't even start!" Dean whispered back as he turned out the light and settled himself into bed.
It was a common routine and Dean had it down pat. Throw the blanket at Sam, turn out the light and pretend to sleep. Sam had been bugging him about getting sleep so he would lay down until his brother fell asleep and then get up and prowl.
Dean lay awake pleased that things had gone well for Sam. Ten laps wasn't much, but it was a hell of a lot more than he was doing a few days earlier and he'd done them five times today. Dean began going over his physical therapy program for Sam for his morning routine as he lay back in his bed.
"Don't," an all too familiar voice whispered out in the dark.
"Don't what?" the surprised older sibling questioned.
"You know what," Sam answered back.
"Snore? I wasn't asleep, Sam, how the hell could I be snoring," he declared defensively assuming Sam was accusing him of his midnight moaning.
Sam had hurled a pillow at him the night before claiming he had been snoring and had asked him to turn over. Truth was, it hurt his shoulder to sleep on his side or chest, so when he did settle in to try to sleep, which was practically never these days, he had to be on his back and unfortunately, whenever Dean slept on his back, he snored.
Anticipating a future attack, Dean had removed all of Sam's extra pillows from his bed earlier and had the fluffy arsenal on the floor beside him between his bed and the wall for easy reach should his brother lob his only pillow in Dean's direction.
"You were planning my torture for tomorrow," Sam whispered. "I can feel the pain already and I haven't even started yet."
"Don't be ridiculous, Sammy. What? You think I lay awake at night planning your stupid little therapy routines?" Dean joked surprised his little brother had known what he was doing. God it was weird to be known so well.
"Yes and I'm glad you agree that they're stupid." Sam gave a high pitched laugh as he prided himself on nailing his brother so smoothly. "Ah, Dean, I can't believe you just left the door wide open for that one," he laughed out again.
"Ha, Ha," Dean grumbled kicking himself for giving Sam an easy on.
"Speaking of doors being wide open, what do you say we do laps outside tomorrow, Dean? You know, go somewhere," Sam suggested.
"Sam," Dean stated correctively. "No."
"Please? It's driving me nuts to be inside all the time," he explained hoping that maybe this time Dean would yield.
"You can forget it," Dean rebuked flatly.
Sam sighed. He knew where this conversation was going and he didn't have the energy to argue it again. Dean was not going to allow Sam out until Joshua had reported the threat factor to be zero. He felt like he was a country constantly being assessed for its likelihood of a terrorist attack and he was always on "high alert".
On top of that, he knew Dean needed to get out. Whatever he was over compensating for, it was slowly eating away at him. His brother was touting humor and playfulness, but underneath it, Sam could still see Dean was troubled and he was feeling helpless to do anything to relieve his sibling's buried pain. He thought maybe if he could get his brother out, living life, as Dean described it, then maybe they could talk things out and help him deal with whatever it was that was troubling him.
Dean felt badly when he heard his brother's discouraged sigh. "Sam, I need you to work with me on this, okay? Just until we know that it's safe or at least until you're able to handle yourself, defend yourself if you need to."
Sam remained quiet.
"Sam?"
"Yeah," the younger sibling sighed out.
"Okay?"
Sam understood why his brother was being protective. He really couldn't defend himself if he needed to. But more than that, he was willing to yield for Dean's sake and he hoped in doing so, his brother might be more open to share what was eating him. Sam's only hesitation was whether he could handle the claustrophobic feeling that was building inside of him, for another few days.
"Okay," he agreed.
Sam closed his eyes and reached for an extra pillow to hug while he slept. He was surprised to find it missing, but didn't want to bother Dean for it so he turned on his side, bunched up his blankets a bit and settled down to sleep.
Dean fidgeted as he lay awake for hours listening to his brother's rhythmic breathing. He hoped that maybe if he listened long enough, his brother's well being might somehow blend into his dreams and keep them from going dark. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he unknowingly closed his eyes. His unconscious mind searched for the peaceful land where dreams were supposed to come true. Unfortunately, he ended up reliving the hellish nightmare of the roadhouse again, and slowly watched his brother die in his arms, helpless once again to do anything to stop it.
oooOOOooo
Sam woke up to the strange sound of metal rubbing against metal in his ear and sensed a presence hovering over him. He immediately flashed open his eyes and scrambled to sit up. A firm hand on his upper chest forced him back down. He grabbed at the arm that held him as his blurry eyes cleared.
"Dean?"
Dean smiled, amused by his little brother's panicked reaction.
"You scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked breathlessly.
Dean laughed and released his hand from his brother's chest. He held his other hand up revealing a pair of cast scissors and a vibrating saw. His Cheshire Cat grin, smeared across his face, showed his complete enjoyment of rousing his brother in such an obnoxious way.
"It's your coming out day, Sammy!" he teased. "S'been well over eight weeks."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Cute…You think I'm letting you anywhere near me with that thing?" Sam asked his brother in amazement as he eyed the scissors.
"It vibrates, geek boy, it can't cut you!" Dean laughed.
"I know that, it's not the saw I'm nervous about."
"What, these little things?" he teased as he held up flat bottomed scissors. "Quit being such a girl, Sammy. Now give me your arm," Dean ordered as he reached out for his brother's cast.
"No, I'll do it myself," Sam pouted still pissed at Dean's annoying arousal.
"Like that's gonna happen," the eldest sibling commented sarcastically.
"What? I can move this hand," he answered holding up his tingling, but mostly numb hand and wiggling his fingers. It's numb, not dead, Dean."
"I never said it was dead, Sam," Dean clarified defensively wanting to make it perfectly clear to his brother that he never thought of it that way. He sat down on the bed beside his brother and held out his hand. "Now, let me help you, alright?"
While Sam could move his fingers and arm, he knew there was no way he could manipulate the vibrating saw or the scissors effectively enough to remove his cast. He begrudgingly placed his hand in his waiting brother's.
Dean began holding the vibrating tip against his brother's cast. The hand shaped crust powdered up and disintegrated rapidly wherever it touched.
"So where, pray tell, did we get this stuff?" Sam asked referring to the medical supplies Dean was holding.
"Our friendly neighborhood hospital thief," Dean replied amusingly. "And here we thought he was out partying all night."
"I'm surprised they even let Bobby in the doors anymore with all the stuff he's stolen," Sam muttered sarcastically.
"Hey!" a voice called out from just outside the bedroom door. Bobby appeared seconds later. "I don't steal stuff….. I …..I borrow it," he explained playfully as he entered to see if help was needed to remove Sam's cast.
"Borrowing usually implies returning something, Bobby," Sam clarified for the self-justifying thief as he watched his cast finally begin to crack open.
"Let's just say I borrow things …..indefinitely," Bobby explained with a smile.
"Pffffhhh," Sam laughed at the family friend's rationalization.
"Well it's not like I can return the stuff wise guy! You used most of it," Bobby complained.
Sam nodded admitting he had a point.
"Could drop it in the biohazard bins they have there," Dean teased. "Then at least you could say you returned it, right?"
"Thanks," Sam muttered knowing Dean had just insulted him.
"Don't mention it, little brother," Dean whispered with a teasing smile on his face.
Having cracked the cast, Dean took the scissors and began cutting away the gauze that lay sandwiched between the cast and Sam's arm. Sam felt the cool flat metal press against his arm and was grateful Dean wasn't using a pointed pair of scissors.
"Need anything?" Bobby asked as he peeked at Dean's handiwork.
"We're good," Dean answered as he cut the final pieces away.
"You ready?"
Sam nodded.
Dean forced the cast open and Sam slid his hand awkwardly through the limited space his brother was offering him. The limb was whitish gray in color and in desperate need of a bath. The collection of sweat and dirt that had gotten trapped in the closed space for over eight weeks had concocted an undeniable stench. Sam opened and closed his hand and twisted his wrist. It was definitely stiff and weak, but it felt good to finally be free.
Dean held up the shell of his brother's arm between two fingers as if it were a dead rat.
"Speaking of biohazards. Uh, Bobby? You asked if we needed anything? Can you take this thing out and kill it!"
Sam rolled his eyes as he continued fiddling with and feeling his newly freed hand.
Dean couldn't help but notice his brother's preoccupation with his hand and decided to harass him about it.
"It's a hand for gods sake, Sam, not a woman!"
"Yeah, well, I haven't seen it for a while and I sure could use a good one."
Dean laughed as he applied Sam's words to a woman in his mind. God he loved his brother's innocence.
Bobby slapped Dean's arm, knowing full well what sleazy thoughts were rolling around in his head. "You should be more like your brother, sweet and innocent," Bobby corrected playfully.
As he left the room with the cast held out in front of him, he caught a whiff of the odor Dean had been making a big deal of. "Okay, maybe just innocent," he clarified eyeing the disgusting shell. "I'll take this thing directly to the dumpster."
Sam rolled his eyes again. "What ever happened to bedside manners?" he hollered out as the older hunter bolted mockingly down the hall. Sam heard the slam of the apartment door.
"You're welcome," Dean initiated.
"For what?" Sam pretended to ask innocently.
"For taking your cast off," Dean explained as if his brother was dense.
"Oh, I was thinking you should be thanking me," Sam teased with a twinkle in his eye.
"Now why the hell would I be thanking you?" Dean grumbled.
"For trusting you not to cut my arm off," Sam explained as if it were obvious.
"Oh, really?" Dean muttered sarcastically as he worked the scissors threateningly. "I'll cut something else off!"
Sam pretended to scramble away from his brother in fear and the two laughed. Sam watched Dean, pleased to see his brother happy, free for a moment of the burden of taking care of him, not hiding behind humor to cover up his pain, just simply enjoying the brotherhood that they shared.
Dean noticed Sam's gaze and knew what Sam was thinking and he became embarrassed. It wasn't Sam's job to be looking out for him. He was the oldest. He quickly changed the subject and attempted to move on.
"Alright. You ready for a shower? Get this thing," Dean grasped Sam's newly uncasted wrist and dropped it on the bed," cleaned up?"
Dean waved his hand in front of his nose.
"This thing will be able to shoot silver bullets straighter now, probably save your ass some day so show a little respect."
"I'll give it all the respect it deserves," Dean responded as he pinched off his nose and stood up.
Sam shook his head and began moving to get out of bed. Dean quickly moved in to help him.
"I think I got it, Dean," Sam whispered.
Dean was pleased his brother was willing to try, but couldn't help but shadow him all the way to the bathroom.
"I'll go grab some clothes and a bag for your stitches so they don't get wet. I'll be right back."
"Sam lingered at the door of the bathroom until his brother returned. He reached out for the clothes and plastic bag, and once they were received he grabbed onto the door preparing to close it.
Dean remained on the other side with his mouth hanging open in surprise.
"I'd like to try this on my own, okay?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Uh, sure. Great! Okay, no problem," Dean answered. He was pleased his brother was feeling confident and only wished he was as well. "If you feel weak or like you're gonna fall or anything, call me, okay?"
Sam reopened the door. "Okay, thanks," he muttered and closed it again.
Dean leaned against the door pressing both hands against its overly varnished surface. "And if you get too tired to finish up, I can always…."
Sam reopened the door and Dean practically fell in. He straightened himself quickly as Sam eyed him oddly.
"…help, I know Dean. Thanks. I really think I'll be okay."
Dean nodded. "Good for you, you know, cuz…"
Sam closed the door again. He could still hear his over protective brother mumbling on the other side of it.
"I'll wait right here just in case," Dean added finding it hard to leave and trust his brother's judgment.
Dean heard the lock button on the knob push in.
"click"
"Okay, then," he mumbled as he waited a bit before walking away from the door.
Dean sauntered down to the living room and was pleased to find Bobby reading the paper.
"Any news about Tommy or the motel?" Dean initiated happy to interrupt the older hunter's quiet reading time.
"They didn't find his body, if that's what you're asking," Bobby answered. "Just mentioned there was a shooting at the motel, but really doesn't say much else. It's definitely no longer front page news so that's good. Hopefully the police will wrap their investigtion up soon and not go looking too deep in the woods."
Dean nodded relieved and began wandering around fiddling with things in the room. His movements were distracting as the hunter tried to focus on his paper.
"He taking a shower?" Bobby finally asked knowing he was not going to get a chance for the quiet moment he had hoped for. He shook his head amazed that the young Winchester before him had chosen that exact time to begin his fidgeting.
"Yep," Dean confirmed a bit nervously as he eyed the shut door from his position down the end of the hallway.
"S'good," Bobby added eyeing Dean over the top of his newspaper. He noticed a slight hesitation in Dean's voice and remembered seeing the young Winchester loitering outside the bathroom door earlier before he had come down and begun his fiddling. "Don't you think?"
Dean heard the shower turn on and paused to listen. When he didn't hear his brother's call, his attentions went back to Bobby.
"Yeah, of course," Dean answered wiping his hands on his jeans after wiping the dust off the top of the TV. He began pretending to look at something out the living room window.
Bobby eyed him suspiciously. "You nervous?"
"What me?" Dean asked as he turned around and looked at Bobby like he was crazy. " No, of course not," Dean answered adamantly, over exaggerating the fact that he wasn't. His insistence only proved that he was.
"Uh huh," Bobby uttered in a sarcastic tone as he returned to his paper knowing full well it was pointless to try to read the damn thing.
Dean frowned knowing Bobby had read him like a book and interrupted the hunter again.
"It's just…..I don't want him to hurt himself is all. He's had enough hurt for a while," the empathetic hunter finally admitted.
Bobby nodded, clearly understanding Dean's pain. Sam's pain was Dean's. Each time Sam had been hurt, Dean had been wounded as well. Inside. It wasn't just that he feared Sam couldn't take much more, it was also that Dean didn't know if he could take seeing Sam get hurt any more.
"You gotta let go," Bobby tossed out as he folded his newspaper and laid it on his lap.
"What, you think I'm babying him?" Dean asked surprised by his friend's comment.
"No, I didn't say that," Bobby clarified.
"Well, it sounds like you did," Dean grumbled.
"You gotta let go of constantly trying to overprotect him," the wise and daring hunter gently suggested.
"You think I'm overprotecting him?!!" Dean asked incredulously. "For god sake, he's been beaten to near inches of his life, shot four damn times, drugged, suffered withdrawal, can't feel much in his left hand, s'got a freakin egg on his forehead and it's forming a black eye as it drains as we speak, and you think I'm over protecting him! I'd say I haven't been protecting him enough!" Dean hissed as the guilt of the past eight weeks pressed in on him practically suffocating his over stressed body.
Bobby was relieved that Dean had finally expressed the pain that had been eating away at him for the past week. He'd seen the kid pacing at night and unrested in the morning. He'd seen Dean hovering over Sam in a way he'd never hovered before.
"It's not your fault, Dean," Bobby finally stated.
"Like hell it isn't! Sam's my responsibility. As far as I'm concerned, if the kid has a bruise on his face, I as much as put it there. It doesn't matter if I did it myself, or didn't prevent it from happening. The roadhouse, the hospital, hell, the motel…..I screwed up royally, Bobby," Dean confessed hating himself for it, "And Sam's the one who's suffered for it."
"That's your daddy talking, Dean. He put that responsibility on you," Bobby gently offered feeling Dean's pain and wanting to relieve it. " You need to look at what you saved Sam from, not what he suffered. You saved him from death…. at the roadhouse, the hospital, and the motel and you've kept him from giving up."
"It's not enough. I don't ever want him to…" Dean's voice hitched.
"What? Get hurt again?" Bobby finished gently knowing the young man needed to get it out in the open where they could deal with it.
He could tell Dean had a lot more he needed to say and he wasn't about to let the normally masked Winchester cover up before dumping the toxins that were poisoning him from the inside out. Dean's drive to keep Sam from ever getting hurt again was based on his guilt and feelings of failure, not just on the pain of seeing his brother suffer.
"What they did to him, Bobby, if you had been there." Dean bowed his head and shook it, over come with emotion. "I can't get the images out of my head. I have nightmares about it. The gunshots, point blank range, his body jerking on impact, the torture and manipulation, his blood everywhere, on his leg, his shoulder, his chest, his head, running down his face, then that blank stare when I thought he was dead, the seizures, the sharpshooter picking him off like he was nothing, his numb arm. I was powerless to stop it."
Dean looked at Bobby with such intense sadness in his eyes. "I would have gladly died to prevent any of it from happening to him."
Bobby nodded feeling Dean's pain. Sam had suffered the unthinkable and Dean was broken because of it. On top of his pain for his brother, the young hunter was blaming himself for not having prevented it or having taken his place. Racked with guilt, he was desperately trying to over compensate by smothering Sam, as if trying to make right what he felt he had done terribly wrong.
"And that's why you're over protecting him," Bobby stated trying to help Dean see the connection between his guilt and brokenness for Sam and his new over protectiveness.
"No….well, yes…Wouldn't you?"
"Gut instinct would tell me to," Bobby offered trying to put Dean's mind at ease that his shared feelings were understandable and accepted without judgment, " but if I were able to be objective, no. There's no wrong to right on your part, Dean. No need to torture yourself to pay penitence for something you didn't do. And trying to prevent your brother from ever experiencing pain again by over protecting him is not healthy for him or for you. Pain's part of life. Part of Sam's healing is learning to deal with pain, learning how to manage it, control it, overcome it and be stronger for the victory. You want to help him, you gotta let go. He's ready to try, to work to get his strength and independence back and he needs you to believe he can and free him to try. If he fails, he fails. You can be there to help him get back up. But if you don't let him try, he'll become the very thing you're trying to prevent him from becoming…helpless, hopeless, and unable to return to who he was."
Dean wiped his hand across his face. "It's just, I feel like if I don't 'over protect' Sam, he might get hurt or leave me." Dean could not put the words Sam and die in the same sentence.
The cause of Dean's distress was not only based on his feelings of failure and guilt at seeing his brother nearly destroyed, it was also because he was nearly destroyed himself, having faced his greatest fear over and over again….the fear of losing Sam…and the emotional fall out was devastating for the older sibling.
"Dean, you have to realize Sam's not the only victim here. You've suffered too."
"Sammy's suffered a hell of a lot more than me," Dean corrected unable to focus on his own pain for even a minute.
"Sam's been through hell, yes, but so have you," Bobby continued wanting to help Dean understand the root of his sleeplessness, over protectiveness, and fear. "You've not only been hurt, you've had to watch the one person that matters most in your life suffer over and over to the point of death.
"What's your point?" Dean painfully requested.
"My point is that you need time to heal too, inside and out. To deal with what you suffered, the torture, beatings, knifing, and gunshot wound, to deal with the fact that you almost lost Sammy, and to free yourself from the guilt. You're hurting so badly for him and blaming yourself for his pain and it's killing you. You need to let that guilt go and not allow it to control or destroy you.
"How the hell do I do that?"Dean questioned not really sure he could let go of the guilt even if he wanted to.
"Focus on the fact that you saved him. Your brother is alive and willing to live, Dean, because of you. There's no guilt in that, son."
Bobby paused allowing time for his point to sink in.
"And you need to take care of yourself, allow your body and soul to heal."
Bobby looked at Dean, surprised the hunter didn't disagree with him. Bobby knew Dean might not focus on his own healing while Sam was still recovering and he felt that the two were interconnected and threatened to sabotage each other.
" Until you do, until you can let go of the guilt and your fear of losing your brother, you can't really help Sam make it the rest of the way back. Your unresolved pain is creating an instinct in you to hold on tighter to him, but in doing so, you're suffocating him yourself. He needs to believe in himself to heal and if you don't believe in him, he won't either."
"I believe in him," Dean interjected defensively. " Sam's survived a hell of a lot of things I don't think I ever could have, done things I would never have dared to try. He's a lot stronger than people realize and a lot of his strength is in his nature, his heart. Something Joshua will never understand. I know Sam can beat this! "
"Then why are you over protecting him? If you really believe in him, let him go. Let him see what he can do, see that your faith in him is deserved. Then and only then will he truly heal…as will you."
Dean sat down on the couch and rubbed his hands on the tops of his legs. He knew Bobby was right. Sam was ready to live again and out of his own pain, guilt, and fear he was holding him back. The overly simplistic therapy routines, keeping his brother inside away from the windows, not letting the kid walk around without shadowing him everywhere. He wiped his hand across his unshaven face and scratched his chin.
"Trust him to tell you when he needs help and what he needs you to do. At least with the smaller stuff right now. The demon, the hunters, sure you need to watch his back, but let him live while you do it."
Dean nodded as he felt a familiar sting in the corners of his eyes. Bobby's words rang true in his heart and gave him the direction he needed to find his way out of the darkness he had been lost in for the past few weeks. The heavy burden that had weighed him down seemed a little lighter, more manageable. Sure he had to work through his fear of losing Sam. Truth was, he knew he never could, but he could work on letting his brother live, untethered by his guilt and pain and fears.
"How do you know all this stuff?" Dean finally asked with affection as he admired the family friend and huntsman who sat before him.
"I've learned it along the way. Your dad taught me a lot too," Bobby added with a warm smile.
"You and Dad, how was it with you two? Last time I saw you with him you were trying to shoot him full of buckshot," Dean smiled whispering a laugh at the memory of his dad's face when Bobby turned his gun on him.
"Yeah, well, I told you before, your daddy had that effect on people," Bobby laughed softly remembering John with much love and respect despite his confrontational approach at times.
Dean nodded as he kept his eyes fixed on Bobby. He was eager to know more if the hunter was willing to open up.
"He was like a brother and a best friend in some ways, Dean, even though we saw things a whole lot differently."
Dean thought he heard the shower turn off and paused to listen. When he didn't hear his brother's call, his attentions went back to Bobby.
"So how were you alike and how were you different?" Dean questioned wanting to know more about his dad and the man that sat before him.
Bobby was surprised by Dean's openness, but was happy to oblige, figuring the boy wanted to know his dad better by seeing him through his old eyes.
"We both got drafted into hunting evil, your daddy motivated by your mom's death, me by my dad's."
Dean cocked his head, not realizing Bobby's reason for being a hunter.
"My dad was a hunter, died when I was twenty, just got my degree in auto mechanics. I took it upon myself to avenge his death and never really looked back."
"Sorry," Dean sympathized gently, knowing the pain of losing a father all too well.
"Yeah, well, life can be a bitch," Bobby sighed and scratched his beard. " I hooked up with your daddy a few years later. We were both hunting a werewolf in the woodlands of Nebraska." Bobby smiled as the memory flashed in his mind. " Damn near shot him when he appeared out of no where soon after I'd lost a visual on the wolf I was hunting. He said he worked alone. I did too. Seconds later, we were trounced by a pair and were fighting for I lives."
Dean looked intently at Bobby eager to hear what happened.
" In the end, it was working together that saved our sorry asses. Your dad and me? We were buds from then on….Sure we had a falling out once in a while, but we knew we could count on each other," Bobby paused as the loss of his good friend tugged at his heart. " He trusted me with you boys on many occasions," he added feeling honored.
Dean smiled feeling warmed by the memory of staying at Bobby's.
" That right there says it all. Your daddy was pretty protective of you boys back then."
Dean nodded his head. He was glad his dad had had Bobby for a friend and grateful he and Sam did too.
The shower turned off and Dean made his way to the bathroom door. He was tempted to call in, but decided not too. Bobby was right. He needed to back off and let his brother try. Moments later when he heard sounds indicating his brother was moving inside and not collapsed on the floor, he returned to find Bobby reading the newspaper.
"So what are you reading," Dean asked with a lighthearted tone and a devious smile on his face.
"Some article on," Bobby looked up from his paper suspiciously. "Oh no, you don't! Nice try wise ass! If you think I'm gonna sit here and let you ruin my paper reading, you're crazy. Go find someone else to pester….besides your brother."
Dean frowned. He was disappointed he couldn't harass the old hunter.
"Fine," he spat playfully and made his way to the kitchen for a snack.
oooOOOooo
Twenty long minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, clean, shaven, and exhausted.
Dean quickly greeted him at the bathroom door, and though tempted to shadow him to the room, deliberately held back allowing his brother the freedom to move without his hovering.
Part way there, Sam reached out for his brother's shoulder to steady himself.
Dean moved in allowing his sibling to stabilize and draw strength from him, and then helped him back to bed.
Sam slid under the covers, laid back and smiled, well pleased with his accomplishment.
Dean smiled back. Atta boy, Sammy
oooOOOOoo
Sam and Dean awoke the next day to the sound of Bobby's cell ringing from the living room. Based on the fact that it only rang twice, the brother's deduced the hunter was anxious to speak to the caller. Dean assisted Sam as they quickly got up and the two moved into the hallway and headed towards Bobby, eager to listen to the one sided conversation.
"Yeah, man, talk to me," Bobby's voice spoke out with intensity.
The hunter paused as he listened intently.
"Damn" he whispered out as he reacted to the information that was being passed along. He eyed the brothers as they neared him and held up his hand gesturing for them to wait. He wanted to be sure he heard everything before he passed it along to the boys. His face indicated something was wrong. Dean felt a rush of adrenaline sting through his system.
Dean mouthed Joshua's name asking Bobby to confirm it was he on the phone.
Bobby nodded.
Sam and Dean waited anxiously having heard the huntsman's curse.
"How the hell did you miss him?" Bobby hissed.
The brother's shared a look. Dean couldn't help but notice his brother's nervous expression and deliberately tried to calm himself down so as not to add to his brother's worry.
"Has he had any other visitors?" Bobby questioned tensely.
(pause)
"Thank God."
Sam felt a little hope at Bobby's statement of relief and held out that maybe things weren't as bad as he had originally thought.
"No, Joshua, we need to check with the boys first and see what they want to do," Bobby cautioned.
Dean nodded his head in agreement with Bobby's statement. Sam glanced over at Dean. He was fearful that Joshua might not see things that way.
"I don't give a damn what you think. It's their call, not yours," Bobby hissed as he rose to his feet.
The boys watched intently and were relieved to see Bobby settle a bit.
"Right here. Just wait. I'll ask"
Bobby looked at the Winchester brothers and delivered Joshua's news.
"Derek, the hunter in jail," he clarified unnecessarily as both of the brothers already remembered he guy from the roadhouse, "has had only one visitor since Joshua was there last time." Bobby paused knowing Dean would not like the news. "It was Bracken."
"Damn it!" Dean cursed as he wiped his hand across his face and looked at Sam to gage his brother's reaction.
Sam was troubled, but holding his own.
"Joshua thinks that if Bracken is returning he has to be listening to something Derek's saying. Wants to know what you want him to do."
Bobby searched Sam and Dean's faces for an answer.
"Tell him to find the damn hunter and figure out what he's up to!" Dean spat, angry that the guy was given a second pass at Derek's lies. "What ever is is? It can't be good that he's in there to see the bastard again."
"No, I think he means about Derek and him talking from his jail cell. He wants to know if you want him to take the guy out."
"No," Sam answered flatly.
Both hunters turned to Sam.
"No," he reiterated more emphatically. "No killing, remember. It's my call," he added looking at Dean to keep his word.
"Sam, this guy could be building up a gang again," Dean stated gently, not wanting to upset his brother, but wanting Sam to realize the choice he was making, the possibility he could become the target of a lynching mob again.
"Dean, no. He can't hurt me if he's in jail. You promised. It's my call," Sam's gentle eyes pleaded.
Sam saw the concern etched all over Dean's worried face.
"Right now, let's just keep an eye on him, okay?" Sam asked trying to soothe his brother's fears.
Dean looked at Bobby hoping the hunter would say something, anything to help.
Bobby gave no response. Truth was, both brothers were right. His protective side said don't risk it, take the guy out, his moral side said until he threatens Sam, it would be wrong. While in jail, he was not gonna be coming after Sam.
Dean turned back to Sam. His brother's features were set in absolute determination. "Self defense, maybe, Dean, but not murder."
Dean paused to think. He would have normally thought that way, but with Sam's life as the central issue, he was willing to be more proactive even if it included taking Derek out. He didn't like Sam's use of the word murder. The guy had already threatened Sam's life and to Dean, this was just a postponed self defense scenario. Still, he had to respect his brother's moral fortitude, even if he didn't like what it might result in. Dean gave Sam an understanding, but worried look and finally nodded.
Sam smiled nervously, unsure of what the consequences of his decision might be.
"But I don't want the two of them together again!" Dean growled out, not willing to allow the two hunters any more opportunities to formulate plans.
Bobby put his cell to his ear. "Wait and watch, but keep them separate," he reported.
He suddenly held the phone away as the angered hunter's voice squawked loudly from the other end. When he was sure the man had calmed, he placed it back against his ear and listened.
"Both"
"You son of a bitch! You're wrong, damn it! Sam's not..." Bobby suddenly stopped, not wanting to reveal the content of Joshua's recent comment for fear of hurting Sam and upsetting Dean.
Dean eyed Bobby suspiciously as the hunter turned his back towards the brothers and began moving towards the hallway.
"I said they both want to wait, damn it! Now get off his back," Bobby hissed as he walked down the hallway. His voice dissipated with the distance, but his tone clearly indicated he and Joshua were not in agreement and the calloused hunter did not approve of the decision that had been made.
Dean looked over to Sam and frowned. He knew Joshua was bad mouthing Sam and he hated the guy for it and worried about its effect on his little brother.
Sam raised his eyebrows, scrunched his lips and sighed heavily.
"He's wrong about you, you know," Dean offered softly.
"I don't really care," Sam whispered, though his eyes showed that he did. His face had the same vulnerable look it always did when he was little and Joshua laid into him.
Dean dared to continue. "He just doesn't get you, man. Your strength lies in your sensitivity, in your moral high ground. You're a better person than him because you stop and think and you value life. He gave all that up years ago. Thought he had to in order to keep on living. Irony of it all is that he's only surviving, he's not really living and we both know, that's just not enough."
Sam's mouth curled at the corners as Dean's theme revisited his mind and found himself glad Joshua disapproved of him. If the guy didn't, then it would mean he had changed, become more like the calloused man Joshua had become and he didn't want that.
"You think he'll do what we want?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, believe it or not, I do," Dean answered. "He's rough as hell, but he wants to do right by us, by Dad. He'll wait."
"I hope so," Sam offered hoping that he and his brother's faith were not misplaced.
TBC
Thanks again to all for your wonderful and gracious reviews! You continue to inspire me and I look forward to hearing from all of you!! Rachelly