Chapter 34

It was hot. So hot. The heat seared through Dean through his flesh down to his bones. The sickening stench of sulfur stifled him, causing him to gasp desperately for air. There was screaming… always screaming… endless cries of fear, anger, torture…

Alistair stood over him, the blade of his razor glinting in the harsh light of the room.

"It's never going to end, Dean," the demon sneered."Doesn't matter what that doctor tells you. Doesn't matter what Sam says. You know you're a monster. You know you still have those urges… the urge to maim… to torture…"

Dean shook his head and desperately tried to look away. But he couldn't move… couldn't escape…

"No one's going to save you, Dean… you're going to be all alone… when they find out who you really are… Sammy's gonna leave… he's gonna leave you all alone…"

"No! He said he was never going to leave! Shut up!"

Alistair smirked and then dug the razor blade into Dean's leg at the ankle and began dragging it upward. Dean screamed in agony.

"That's right, Dean. Scream for me. Cuz this is how it's going to be. I'm going to cut you all up over… and over… and over…"

"Stop it! Please stop! Help me! Somebody help me! Sam! Help, Sam! SAM!!!"

***

Dean's eyes flew open and he gasped in a breath of clean, clear air. It took him a moment to come out of his dream and remember where he was. He was still at Dr. Morgan's house. He wasn't in Hell. He was safe.

He turned his head to look at the nearby chair. His stomach sank when he didn't see Castiel sitting there like usual.

Of course he's not there, Dean told himself. I'm doing better. He doesn't have to babysit me 24/7. He has other stuff to deal with, like the end of the world!

He sat up in the bed, his breath coming out in pants. His t-shirt clung to his sweat-soaked skin and a chill went through him as the air hit him. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop shaking without success.

He got up and flipped on the light switch, blinking as the room was flooded with light. He began pacing, trying to calm himself and not think about the dream.

"Doc said I'm gonna get better," Dean whispered to himself, trying to relax. "He got through his shit and I can get through mine. And Sammy's not leaving. He already told me so. He's gonna stick with me and we're going to get through this together. I'm gonna get through this."

He wanted a drink. He hadn't wanted a drink this badly in awhile. He desperately wanted the comfort the alcohol would instantly bring him. He wanted to numb himself. He wanted to not feel so god damned afraid.

"No drink, Dean," He whispered desperately to himself. "Come on, you don't need it. It won't help. And you have to stay strong for Sam. You promised him you wouldn't drink."

He felt the fear creeping inside of him despite his words. He felt desperately alone, but he didn't want to bother the doctor or Doris. The clock was reading 2 am and Dean didn't want to disturb them with this.

He slipped on a pair of pants. He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care. He would walk to the damn liquor store down the road and buy himself some alcohol. He couldn't bear the pain anymore. He had to make it stop somehow.

He slipped out of his room and made his way down the hallway. He didn't bother putting on his shoes. He stopped in the darkened kitchen, desperately searching for some money he could use to buy the alcohol.

Then his eyes fell on the phone.

Dean stopped as he looked at it, remembering back to one of his earlier sessions. God, he didn't want to bug Sam at this hour. But then, Sam would be pissed as hell if he found out Dean had stolen money from Dr. Morgan and snuck out to by alcohol without telling anyone. He grabbed the phone and went back to his room.

He sat on the bed and stared anxiously at the phone in his hands. What if he was busy? What if he found a case he needed to work on? What if he was with… her?

Dean snorted at that thought and dialed. That was a good enough reason to call for him. He held his breath as he heard it ring once… twice… three times…

"Hello?" A groggy Sam answered.

"Dean nervously moistened his lips.

"Hey… Sam. It's me. Dean."

"Dean?" He could tell Sam was more awake now. "What's wrong? Are you OK? Did something happen?"

"I… I'm OK…" Dean lied. "I… I just wanted to… you know… talk."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"You called at 2 am to just talk?" Sam asked incredulously.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to push down the anxiety filling him. He desperately tried to make his voice sound normal.

"Yeah… yeah. I mean, what? I can't just call to say hi?"

"You call to say hi at two in the afternoon, not the morning," Sam replied, his voice firm. "Now are you going to tell me what's wrong or what?"

Dean's eyes began to fill with tears and he ran his hand anxiously through his hair. He could feel his heart jackhammer in his rib cage and he thought he was going to be sick any second.

"Dean? Dean, what's wrong? Come on, man. Talk to me."

Dean began shaking his head.

"I… I had a nightmare… again… and Castiel isn't here… and the doc and Doris are sleeping… and I don't want to bother them… but I want a drink, Sam… I really need one… I'm freaking out here and I can't take much more… but I know I can't and I didn't want to bother you… but I didn't know what else to do…"

"It's OK, Dean," Sam said quickly. "It's OK. I'm glad you called. Look, how about I come over for awhile? We can sit on the porch and talk until you feel better. Would that help?"

Dean wiped away the tears that had begun rolling down his face and nodded.

"Yeah," Dean managed to choke out. "Yeah, that'd be good, Sam."

"OK. I just have to tell Bobby where I'm going and I'll be right there. Just hang in there, alright?"

Dean felt a jolt of panic as he realized Sam was getting ready to hang up.

"Wait! Sam…"

"What is it, Dean?"

Dean swallowed hard and felt ridiculous for asking.

"Could… could you stay on the phone with me? Until you get here?"

There was a pause on the other end and Dean was almost positive Sam would have some remark for that request.

"Sure, Dean. I'll stay on the phone with you."

Dean let out a relieved sigh. He heard Sam tell Bobby where he was going and then heard him go outside and get into the car. Soon, Sam was on his way.

"So, Cas didn't say where he was going?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "No. He was gone when I woke up. And he doesn't need to anyway. He's got other shit to deal with."

"I know. But still. It'd be nice to be kept informed at least once in awhile."

"Yeah, it would."

"Maybe Uriel is pissed at him for hanging around you so much."

Dean suddenly realized Sam hadn't heard the latest news.

"Shit. I forgot you didn't know."

"Know what?"

Dean relayed what had happened between Castiel and Uriel and the results. He heard Sam gasp in shock.

"Shit, Dean. That's not good!"

"Tell me about it."

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Alright. Just trying to come up with a conversation they would have. I decided that I wanted to really focus the story now on fixing the brothers' relationship since we have to wait until September until that can happen on the show! : ( I also plan on wrapping this story up in the next few chapters so I can work on a couple other ones I have in the works.

Thanks for reading! : )