AUGUST - SOPHIA
I looked into the room and found Dean sleeping in the chair. The nurse told me that if he wasn't in his room, he would be in here. And I believed her.
He had a wound on his forehead, stitched up, his arm was in a cast, and it didn't look comfortable in that chair. But he had managed to fall asleep.
I had no idea of how long they had been here. I got the call this morning, and it took me a few hours to fly down here.
I closed the door before I let my eyes wander to the bed, and when they did I had to fight back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall down my cheeks.
Sam looked... Man, it wasn't good. His leg was in a cast, and he had a tube down his throat. He had a big wound on the side of his face. There was an IV and he looked like he was in pain. And the doctors didn't know when he would wake up. If he would wake up. I knew he had internal bleeding's when they came here, but they managed to stop them in surgery.
It was always risks being in a coma, and he wasn't exactly stable. Anything could happen. And it didn't look good. The doctors didn't know anything.
It was so hard to believe that only eighteen hours ago I had watched Dean and Sam drive away.
I walked up to Dean, careful not to wake him, and placed a kiss on the top of his head. I breathed his scent in before I wiped away the tear that leaked over. Then I looked around the room and found another chair. I put it so that it was on the other side of the bed, opposite to where Dean was sleeping.
I sat down and waited. Dean would wake up soon enough.
I didn't have to wait long.
Not even an hour later he started to move, and a moment later he opened his eyes. His gaze went directly to Sam, and it took a few seconds before he noticed me sitting there. I didn't say anything as his eyes met mine, and neither did he. We just stared at each other for almost a minute.
I could see how much pain he was in. How much he wanted – needed – his little brother to wake up. I could see how much he wanted to forget what had happened, and how much he wanted me in his arms.
We stood up at exactly the same second, and without saying anything I took the few steps that was needed for me to come near him and I felt his arms come around me.
I knew he had a few broken ribs, so I didn't want to embrace him too tightly. I didn't want to cause him pain. But he hugged me tightly, almost making our bodies melt into one, ignoring the pain it must be causing him. And I hugged him back. I wanted him to know that I was there for him, and that I always would be. No matter what.
He buried his head in the crook of my neck, and I felt a tear leak over for him. Neither of us moved until he had pulled himself together. He took a deep breath before he placed a kiss on the side of my neck. His lips moved up until they found my jaw line and then my lips. He pressed a hard kiss there, and I kissed him back, trying to find every way I could to comfort him in any way.
"I should have called," he said against my lips, his voice tiny. Almost a whisper.
"You should," I told him, opening my eyes only to find his closed. "But I know why you didn't. Is... are you okay?" I needed to know. I only knew what the doctor had said. Broken ribs, broken arm.
I knew facts, but I didn't know how he felt.
"Peachy."
"Dean..." I protested.
"I'm alright." That wasn't a direct lie. He was okay. If you compared to Sam.
"And Sam?"
It took a moment before he answered.
"I-I don't know."
This was hurting him. So much. I could see that. I knew that.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked softly. I would listen, if he would talk. I wasn't sure he would. Not right this second.
He still didn't open his eyes as one hand moved from the small of my back to my bump. He held his hand there for a long time, without saying anything.
It was almost as if she knew her father's hand was there, because our little girl started to kick only a short moment after Dean placed his hand on my stomach.
Dean pressed our foreheads closer together and took another deep breath before he spoke.
"I'm not sure. I shouldn't have... We were both tired, and I should have kept on driving when he offered to do so. I shouldn't have let him drive. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. The next thing I knew, there was... they were trying to get us out. It was bad, I don't know anymore than that. I was unconscious when we got here, but I woke up a few hours later. And I went in here. Fell asleep, and you know the rest."
"I know this is going to make me sound selfish, but I don't care. If this had to happen, I'm glad you agreed to let him drive. Because if you would have been driving, you would have been on that bed. And I... I can't loose you again. But still, that's Sam. He's a brother to me, and I love him. But you're Dean, and you're you, and I can't loose you. I can't. Not again. Not ever."
He opened his eyes, and he met my gaze.
"I can't loose him, Soph. I just..."
"I know," I told him. "Neither can I. So we have to believe that he'll wake up, okay? Because that's Sam, and he's a fighter. He'll wake up. He has to."
He closed his eyes again, and another tear leaked over from one of his eyes. He wrapped both of his arms around me again, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Holding him close to me, like we were one person again.
We stood like that for a long time in silence, just holding each other. Trying to think positive. Hoping that Sam would be fine. That he would wake up soon.
"When he wakes up, I'm going to kill him for crashing her."
I smiled at the 'when', glad that he hadn't said 'if'. That meant he had a little hope. That hope wouldn't help Sam, but it would definitely help Dean. It would make things a little bit easier.
"I can call Rob, ask him if he can take a look at her."
"No offense, baby, but he's not touching my car."
I smiled again. Dean knew Rob was a good mechanic, but I knew he wouldn't let anyone touch her but him.
"I can at least see if he got any parts, so she'll be up and running again."
"As long as something's working, she'll be up and running. Soon," he mumbled, and I knew he wasn't really talking about the car anymore. The conversation had went from the car to Sam, and now the car was just a metaphor. But he was right. As long as something was working, there was hope. More than that.
I sighed as I looked at Dean with what could only be disappointment.
"Dean, it's been a week. You've barely slept, or eaten. Eat. Sleep. Sam won't wake up just because you sit here, flipping through that journal. Sleep, please?"
He looked at me, getting up from his chair.
John's journal was on the side of the bed. Dean had been flipping through it more times than I could count. The only reason he wasn't out finding a way to wake Sam up was because I forced him not to.
"I should get you something to eat," he said, and I didn't have the time to say anything before he was out of the room.
I sighed again, looking at Sam.
The tube was gone, and he was breathing on his own. He was doing a lot better, but the doctors still didn't know when he would wake up.
"Sam, your brother is acting stupid. For once, nothing I do, or say, will make him change his mind. He's barely eaten anything. He's barely been sleeping since I got here. So wake up, and make sure Dean does something that reminds me of him. I've never seen him like this. Dean is always eating something, but not now. And I'm worried, not only for him, but for you, too. So, wake up, okay?" My words were whispered, and I hoped that Sam, on some level, could hear me.
I knew he wouldn't wake up just because I told him to, but I could always hope.
"I've heard that worrying isn't good for babies," I heard a voice say, and I looked up. I had only seen him twice, but I recognized him. He was easy to recognize.
"What are you doing here, Castiel?" I asked. He didn't seem like the type who cared, but then again, he was an angel, right? According to everything we've heard about them, angel's are not supposed to feel anything. They are cold – soldiers of heaven.
They have no emotions.
"Checking up."
"You couldn't have done that any sooner? I mean, you're a part of the reason why he's here. Of why he's in a coma. Of why he was in that car."
I was the other reason. Castiel might be the one who told Dean and Sam to get back out there, but I'm the one who convinced them. They wouldn't have been here without me.
And I had kept Dean awake. Yes, it was our anniversary, and I wanted to spend time with him, but if I had just let him sleep for a few hours...
ButI don't know what made me say those things. The worry? The hormones? Probably both, but I had no idea.
And it wasn't Castiel's fault that they were in the car. Not mine either. Car accidents happens. It could have happened everywhere. At any time.
"I was busy," was all he answered, but I thought I saw something else. I just don't know what it is.
I glanced at Sam, and when I looked up again, Castiel was gone.
He kept doing that – showing up and disappearing – and it was getting annoying.
A few seconds later I heard footsteps, and Dean came back. He had a tray of food that he gave to me, but I only took it for a second before I placed it on the floor beside the chair I was sitting in.
I had something I needed to say, so the food could wait.
"Dean, I'm worried about you. You need to eat. And you're going to eat, even if I have to force the food down your throat. I'm worried, and I'm hormonal. And you not eating or sleeping is getting annoying. It's frustrating and irritating. And I'm really close to getting angry. And if I'm angry, I'm going to yell. And trust me, you don't want a pregnant woman yelling at you. You don't want your pregnant, hormonal wife to be yelling at you just because you don't eat. So eat, Dean. Please."
He looked at me, but he gave me no hint that he was going to eat.
"I'm not hungry," he mumbled. And when wasn't he hungry? The only reason he wasn't eating was because he was worried. But it wouldn't help Sam to not eat. To not sleep. It wouldn't help him to sit in a chair, doing nothing.
"Bullshit," I snapped, staring at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then we heard a weak voice and both of our heads turned at the same time.
"She's serious. And no one want's Soph yelling at you."
The voice belonged to Sam. He was awake.
Oh thank god.
I stood up and squeezed Sam's hand loosely.
"I'll go find a doctor," I said and Dean looked at me. I gave him a look that meant I would leave them alone for an hour or two. He nodded and then I left.
I told a doctor that Sam was awake, and then I walked outside.
The sun was setting, and I found a good place to sit down on. I fished up my phone and called my sister, but she didn't pick up so I called another number instead.
"Hannah," I said as I heard her voice on the other end. She was annoying. She hadn't talked to Sam since he told her everything. She hadn't even talked to Linda. But I knew that Linda had told her about the accident.
"Who is this?"
"It's Sophia," I said, and heard that she was about to hang up. So, she still didn't believe us then. "Please, just listen to what I have to stay, okay?"
It was quiet on the other end for a moment before she finally sighed and told me 'fine'.
"I just called to say that Sam's awake. I don't know if you care, but I think you do."
"I don't," she answered simply in a hard voice.
"Then you need to reconsider your feelings. Sam is still that guy you met and liked."
"No, he's not."
"Hannah, don't be ridiculous. I don't know you that well, but I know how I reacted when Dean told me the same things Sam told you. I also know that I reacted totally different than you did. You didn't leave Sam a scar, right? I was only fifteen, and confused. I thought he was crazy, and a liar, and insane. And the only reason I really went back to their motel room was to tell Dean that I was sorry for hitting him. I had no intentions on ever believing him, but here I am. And I'm calling you for the same reason I told Dean I was sorry. I am. It's because of me that Sam told you. If I hadn't convinced him that you deserved to know, then your life would probably be easier right now. But Sam and Dean still would have been in that accident, and you would have been by his side instead of being in Friday Harbor. So can you tell me where the difference is? I know the only reason why you're not here is because Sam told you about his previous life. And that's bullshit. That shouldn't matter. I know every damn thing that those brothers have done, and I love them. I know that Dean used to sleep around. A lot. But here I am. We're married, and I love him, and I'm carrying his child. People can change, Hannah. For the better and for the worse. Both Sam and Dean has changed for the better since that first day I met them. They have matured. Now do the same. Ask yourself the real reason of why you don't care that Sam is awake. And when you find a good answer, call him. No matter what the answer is, he deserves a phone call." That was the very least she could give him.
"That was a long speech," she said, and I snorted to myself.
"Every word was true. Call him," I told her and then hung up.
I sat still where I sat for about an hour and thought things through.
I was glad that Sam was awake, but I couldn't help but to think that maybe, just maybe, Castiel had something to do with it.
A week ago, the doctors didn't even know if he would wake up. This morning, things looked better but they thought it would take a while.
Then Castiel showed up, and not even ten minutes later, Sam was awake.
He could have something to do with it.
He did bring Dean back from the dead, barely a month ago, so he should be able to wake Sam up from his coma. Right?
The question was; is he that good of a person? Angel?
DEAN
I suppressed a groan as I looked at my car. It wasn't as worse as the last time, but almost. God, it would take me forever to fix this. Especially since the cast would be on for another five, or six weeks. And my ribs still hurt like crazy.
"Sure you don't want any help?" Rob asked a moment later as he started to tow her. It was nice of him to do this, even though he didn't have to. Towing a car for six hours couldn't be fun. He had even brought his own car on the tow truck so that we had something to get home in since we all wouldn't fit in the tow truck. And I have to admit; I would rather drive Rob's Camaro than Soph's Volvo. I mean, there was just nothing special about her car. Rob's was a beauty, though. Not that I would be driving...
"Yeah, I'm fine," I promised and walked back to Soph and Sam. They were already waiting in the car – Sam in the backseat and Soph in the drivers seat.
It had been two weeks since the accident, and Sam hadn't been discharged until today. A few hours ago actually. And he looked better. I mean, he was jumping on crutches, and his ribs was hurting just as much as mine, but he was alright.
Castiel had showed up again. He offered to help us heal. We turned it down, and he wasn't happy about it. He even threatened to bring me back to whereever I was before he brought me back. But I called his bluff, and he had disappeared just as quickly as he came. I mean, he had said it himself; they needed me alive. So he wouldn't just kill me again because I refused to heal his way.
Sure, it would be nice not to feel the pain and not have the cast, but it was better this way. Because then I didn't have to go out and hunt. I could be with Soph. I could be home and just live my life. I mean, I wanted to watch her grow, and I wanted to face all the hormonal changes. I wanted to be annoyed at her because of her hormonal changes. Because they weren't always fun. Sometimes, they were barely noticeable, but at other times... Man, I could barely stand to be in the same room as her. But at the same time, I found them adorable. She was adorable.
As we reached Friday Harbor many hours later, Rob placed my car in the garage and left. Sam followed us inside, but after getting something to eat, he left for his place. He was tired, and he hadn't slept anything in the car so I understood him.
I followed Soph upstairs, and sat down on the couch next to her. She turned on the TV, but none of us were looking.
"I was thinking," she murmured, placing her right hand on her stomach. I followed her lead, because I knew that expression. That satisfied smile. Our girl was kicking. So I placed my hand there, and felt it for myself as Soph told me what had been on her mind. It was the nursery.
"I don't want it to be pink." That was understandable. She had always hated that color. "So I was thinking natural colored. Maybe beige. We already talked about having the crib and changing table in dark walnut. And that would go great with beige."
"Not having it pink sounds great," I chuckled. "And so does beige."
The walls where white now, so we would have to paint them. But there was plenty of time for that.
"Didn't you mention something about having a rocking chair?" I asked, and she nodded.
"Yeah, but at the same time I want an easy chair. I haven't decided on which one yet."
"Have both."
"Wouldn't that be weird?" she asked me. No, why would it be?
"If you have both, you can choose which one you want at the moment."
She removed our hands from her stomach and moved closer to me. She wrapped her arms around my arm, and looked up into my eyes.
"I know you're uncomfortable talking about this," she whispered.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied smoothly. But just like always, she saw through me.
"Don't give me those eyes," I said after a moment of silence. She knew she could pretty much control me with those frigging eyes. And she used them. Not often, but it happened.
And I would give her everything she wanted.
"You know why I'm not comfortable talking about this," I murmured and she sighed.
"I just wanted to hear you say it," she answered me.
She knew that I wasn't the biggest fan of nursery's, and she probably knew I wasn't fully comfortable with having our girl in one.
"Changing the subject," she continued, sitting up straight again. "The crib. I was thinking of maybe having her sleep in our room for a while. Because she's going to wake up at night, and I'll be too tired to go all the way into another room just to feed her. So having the crib in our room would make that easier, until she doesn't wake up as often."
"You talk like you're the only one who's going to wake up when she screams," I stated and she snorted.
"You think you're going to wake up?"
"Yeah," I answered simply. Of course I would. It's a normal reaction to wake up if someone screams.
"I'll give you ten bucks for every time you wake up." She was serious.
"You really don't believe in me," I said with amusement. She looked at me for a second before she let go of my arm and straddled me. I tried not to wince when she accidentally touched my ribs, but I failed.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, placing a soft but chaste kiss on my lips. "And no, Dean, you could sleep through almost everything."
"So, ten bucks you say?"
"Let's make it twenty," she changed her mind, placing another kiss on my lips before she left me alone on the couch.
"Where are you going?" I asked as I heard her walking downstairs.
"I'm hungry," she said, and I followed her lead. If she was hungry, then she would make something to eat. And if she was making something to eat, then I would eat. I hadn't eaten her food in weeks.