So, this is it, the penultimate chapter!
Last chapter should be up sometime tommorow...
Enjoy xx
Penultimate reviews are also welcome XD
As soon as John entered the house he could tell that the atmosphere was different. He pulled out his gun from the waist band of his jeans and took slow, soft steps forwards, looking around each corner
and straining his ears for any sound. Hunters basics. His heart thudded in chest when he turned the corner to walk up the hall way to notice Sams bedroom door open and no Dean guarding it.
"Dammit!" John said under his breath. He ran up the hallway to look in Sams room. Furniture had been thrown across the room and smashed. The curtains were torn and the mirror was decorated with cracks, distorting his reflection. Blood had been splatted on to the floor, small drops first, as though a quick movement had been made, and then a large spot of red crimson stained the carpet a few steps away from the other red spots. The first, most threatening thought came to his head. The Demon.
"Son of a bitch!" John growled. How could he have left his sons? What if the demon had them? What if it had Sam? However, no sulfur could be found. But, then again the YED was no ordinary demon. He was more powerful that any other demon he had come across, maybe that explained the reason for the missing clue. This demon had killed Mary and now he had his sons. A lump formed in Johns throat. No! He told himself. Check...Check first.
"Dean?" John said gruffly, his voice giving out on him. He rapidly cleared his throat and said louder "Dean?! Sam?!"
"Dad?" He heard in response. Nearly collapsing with relief he ran over to where the source of the sound came. It lead him to the bathroom. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bathtub whilst Dean was on his knees, stitching up his little brothers hand.
"Dean, what the-" Their father started to ask when he noticed Sam wasn't shouting, swearing or fighting.
"I'll explain later" Dean looked from his father, back to Sam. Sams head was hanging low, looking as though he just wanted to wash away along with the blood in the sink. God, Sam was on one hell of a downer, this whole rehab thing was gonna be tough on Sam, a living hell, but Dean promised he'd be there for his little brother, every step of the God damn way. "Alright, Sam. How 'bout we get you to bed, huh?" Sam nodded, then looked at Dean.
"Er..Dean?" He said quietly
"Yeah?"
"Our bedroom..." He looked up and sent Dean a message through his eye contact.
"Oh right...er...Dad?"
"Yeah?" Their fathers voice was weak. He couldn't believe this. Sam was being so calm, so strong.
"You don't mind if Sams sleeps in your bed tonight, do you?"
"No, sure. Go ahead son" John smiled, his voice still only barely louder than a whisper. Sam gave a small, weak smile back, but his eyes remained glum. Without any protest, he let Dean help his weak, exhausted body off the bathtub, past their father and down the hall to the oldest Winchesters room. John watched in shock and amazement. When he had left Sam was practically foaming at the mouth and now...Now it was as though, in his absence, everything had been magically resolved. Dean had a lot of explaining to do. John couldn't see how any of this had been possible. So he made his way to the kitchen, filled up a pot of coffee and waited.
..................................................
"My god.." John sighed as he took another sip of coffee. Dean had just explained the series of events that had happened during their fathers absence. "Just like that?"
"Just like that...he just said it out of the blue" Dean stirred his full coffee for about the tenth time.
"He actually said the words 'I need help'?"
"Crystal clear...Couldn't tell you how relieved I was to hear that"
"Yeah" John laughed lightly "Same here.." The men looked at each other and nodded, letting a moment of silence hang between the two.
"So..." John looked up "What now?"
"Well" Dean sighed, rubbing a weary hand over his bruised, tired face "Rehab was my best shot"
"Rehab?"
"Yeah...Rehabilitation center, it's-"
"I know what rehab is" John snapped "Just.." He sighed "Of all the places I expected Sam to go...Rehab most certainly wasn't on the list"
"You can say that again" Dean breathed "Was thinking of ringing them first thing the morning...Let them know Sams situation and try and get him in their as soon as possible, I guess"
"hm" John looked down.
"You know what this means though, don't you?"
"What?" He focused on Dean.
"You're gonna have to drop the lead on the demon" John looked up, silent. Memory flashing back between his recent meeting with the evil creature.
"Sure" John said quietly, Dean looked surprised at getting such a quick confirmation, but decided not to push it.
"So" Dean finally took a sip of his now luke warm coffee "How did it go with Tray?"
"He's gone" John kept his eyes down on Dean.
"Good" Dean smiled "He suffer?"
"Most probably" John looked sad, but Dean was too preoccupied with Sam to notice.
"Good, that bastard deserved it"
"Yeah"
"Anyway...I think I'm gonna hit the hay" Dean got up and stretched, then poured his barely touched coffee down the sink "A lot to do first thing in the morning"
"Where are you sleeping?"
"Oh yeah...forgot 'bout that..Er I'll crash on the lounge floor...you can have the sofa"
"No. You have the sofa" John smiled
"Seriously?"
"You deserve it. I'm proud of you son"
"Yeah" Dean said slowly "You're not too bad your self" he turned and walked out the kitchen leaving John alone in the kitchen with his thoughts and himself.
.....................................
"Is that it?" Dean questioned Sam when his little brother had come out of their semi-fixed bedroom with only one bag.
"S'all I got" Sam mumbled.
"Well...first thing we're gonna do when you get better, is get you some new clothes" Dean put his hand on Sams back and took the light, barely filled bag off Sam and lead him towards the car.
"Wait" Sam said just before they stepped out the front door.
"What?" Dean looked at him.
"Dean...I'm scared"
"Oh Sam" Dean sighed, looking at him "There's nothing to be scared off. These people are gonna help you. God knows were paying them enough"
"I'm Sorry Dean, I-"
"As much as I'd love to hear 'the kissing my ass' speech" Dean laughed and encouraged Sam to get into the car "We're gonna be late"
"All ready?" John asked, after Dean dumped Sams luggage into the back.
"Sam?" Dean asked and turned around to face his brother in the back seat. Sam gave half a nod and Dean repeated a full one to their father. He started the engine up and drove them to the closest Rehabilitation center, where Sam would start his recovery.
The drive was just over half an hour. The car rumbled to a stop as a large, red bricked building came into view. John parked the car and walked with his sons into the center. The place seemed pleasant, clean and also not to hospital like. Which he was sure was a Pro on Sams list. As John and Dean went to sign Sam in, he sat on the waiting room chairs, his head low as though ashamed that everyone knew that he was the 'druggie'.
"C'mon Sammy" Dean helped Sam up, and nodded to the secretary. John and Dean led Sam to the lift and pressed the 3 button "You're on the third floor. Got your own room, en suite too. Room is number 158. Here" Dean gave Sam the keys rather reluctantly "I want you to be responsible with these, alright?"
"What-" Sam looked at Dean.
"Just promised me you won't do anything stupid" Dean could only imagine the horror if Sam locked himself in his room, especially in his vulnerable state.
"I promise" Sam said shyly, catching on to what Dean meant. The lift came to a stop and the doors open to reveal a clean looking corridor with a blue, shiny floor and white walls with posters filled of the dangers of drugs and information about specific drugs. Although, no pictures were shown. Sam guess the image was half the temptation. Although he had agreed to the recovery he still couldn't drown out the burning feeling of addiction within him. Every step was a struggle. They walked in to the room. That too had a blue shiny floor. On the left side of the medium sized room was a bed that seemed comfy enough. Next to that was a bed side table with a yellow lamp on it and on the other side of the room was drawers and besides that, was a door which seemed to lead to a small bathroom, supplying a toilet, shower and sink.
"Wow" Dean said convincingly "Remind me to get a room here. Sure beats our dump"
"Hey" John piped up as Dean jumped onto the bed.
"Oh yeah I could get used to this" He put his hand behind his head and pretended to doze off. Sam walked over and poked Dean in the chest "You call that a massage?"
"Off" Sam laughed, glad to hear Dean had his sense of humor back.
"Well, you do have a way with words" Dean sat up and got off the bed then pulled out a piece of paper and stuck it on to the back of the door.
"Whats that?" Sam asked
"It's your timetable"
"My timetable?"
"To tell you when you've got er...you're.. group therapy sessions, one on one therapy sessions and er..activities"
"What?!" Sam said loudly, crossing the room and looking at it.
"Sam, it's just until you get better. The more progress you make the less therapy session you'll need" Dean said quickly, watching tears form in Sams eyes. He looked down and then up at Dean and John again.
"Okay" He sighed, then walked back over to his bed.
"It's gonna get worse before it gets better" John said, sitting down next to Sam on one side.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine in no time" Dean smiled as he sat down on the other side. Both Winchesters put their arms around Sams back and pulled him in close to them.
This was going to be hell. On all Winchesters. Not having Sam at home was going to be hard and weird enough, but Sam was facing the biggest battle. Both older Winchesters couldn't even begin to describe how proud they were of Sam and how optimistic they were about his recovery. Sam should be back in no time. They hoped.
