Raising Winchesters

Chapter 35

John had no idea how long he'd been asleep. His head was pounding and he had a bitter, unpleasant taste in his mouth. Wondering what had crawled into his mouth and died, John decided that his first line of business was to brush his teeth.

But then he suddenly remembered everything that had happened. Nora….. the Naguals…. Dean.

Abruptly sitting up, John frantically looked around the small room, surprised to find it completely empty. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, John jumped up, allowing himself a few seconds to find his equilibrium before heading towards the door. He stopped at the top of the stairs, listening to the sounds of the house around him, trying to determine just what was happening.

There were a few voices coming from downstairs, and he was just about to head down when he heard other voices coming from just down the hall. Recognizing the sound of Bobby's voice, John immediately changed directions. His hand went to the Colt tucked into the back of his jeans, preparing himself for anything that might come up.

Fortunately, the only thing that came up, though, was the surge of hopefulness that filled him at the sight of Dean sitting in the bathtub. Of course, he was leaning heavily against the back of the tub and Bobby had a firm hold on him to keep him from sliding down into the water, but he was awake. John's eyes suddenly filled with tears and he didn't even care.

"Hey, kiddo…. How are you feeling?" John slid into the bathroom, stopping just short of the towel that had been laid down on the floor in front of the tub. He watched as Dean's eyes slowly moved up to meet his.

"Dad…."

John gave his son a smile and then turned his attention to Bobby. "You should have woke me up the second he did, Bobby."

"You needed to sleep, John. You were tired."

"I wasn't so tired that I wouldn't wake up for Dean," John growled.

Bobby laughed at that. "When's the last time you slept so soundly that anyone could do anything near you without waking you up, Winchester? You're the epitome of a light sleeper."

John glared at the man, but didn't argue. He knew it was unlike him to sleep through something like that. Especially something that had to do with one of his boys. "How is he?"

Bobby looked over at Dean, who was still looking up at his dad. "He's weak. Really weak. And he's been in a bit of a daze. But he's good."

"Where's Titus?"

"He's in my room. Sweating profusely, I bet. But I wasn't about to let him in here while Dean took a bath."

John nodded his approval. "Where's Sammy?"

"Last I heard, he was asleep on the couch. Poor kid made himself sick worrying about his brother, so Jim bribed him into taking a nap."

"Bribed him? With what?" John wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"Sam wants to make a pie for Dean."

"Pie?" Dean looked over at Bobby with a slight goofy grin on his face. Both men laughed at his look.

"Yeah, Dean," Bobby answered softly. "Pie, just for you."

Dean smiled again, but then his eyes closed for several long seconds and he slid down in the tub. Bobby motioned for John to take his place, and once Dean was secured again, Bobby made short work of washing the boy's hair. Once he was done, he grabbed another towel and motioned for John to pick his son up. John held Dean close to his body, while Bobby quickly toweled him off. Dean slept through most of it, but woke up when John was putting on a clean t-shirt.

"Are you hungry, Dean? Think you could eat something?"

"A cheeseburger?" Dean asked quietly, his words slightly slurred.

"Not yet, kiddo. I was thinking maybe some soup or something."

"Don't like soup," Dean whined.

"How about some of my famous oatmeal, kid? Does that sound better?" Bobby knew how much Dean usually liked his oatmeal with lots of brown sugar and cinnamon. He'd have to make it a little more bland for the boy, but there was a chance he'd eat a little of it regardless.

"With cinnamon, Uncle Bobby?"

"Maybe just a little bit, kid."

"Okay."

John toweled off Dean's hair a little more and then followed Bobby out of the room.

"I'll meet you downstairs, John. I need to get Titus."

John's face darkened, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do. Dean still had the amulet on, so John knew that Titus was feeling the effects of being away from the boy. And he needed the man to continue to be willing to help them.

"Let's go downstairs, Dean. I think there are some people that would love to see you up and at 'em."

With Dean leaning heavily against him, arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist, John slowly made his way downstairs.

Titus felt awful, both physically and mentally. And emotionally, truth be told. He felt like he was on fire, but he also felt like he was cold to the bone. His hands were shaking and every nerve in his body felt like it was taut and about to break. His head was pounding and everything hurt. Even his teeth.

He knew that despite how bad he felt, Dean had been feeling at least ten times worse. And that just about killed him. He hated the thought of the poor boy suffering so much. He hated even more the thought that he had anything at all to do with that suffering. If he could take it back, he would do whatever he had to to keep the kid out of the reach of Nora Doherty. Or Eliore, as she used to be called.

She hadn't gone by that name for many years, but somehow the Naguals had come to call her that. He wondered if it had something to do with their magic connecting with her magic on such an innate level. The same way she seemed to connect with the magic of flora and fauna around her.

Titus had been around witches before, but none as powerful or driven as Eliore. He knew the story of her past and he understood her need for retribution, even if he didn't really agree with it. Despite the beliefs of his fellow naguals, he didn't believe in the edict of two wrongs making a right. What had happened to Eliore and her family was horrific and he knew that she still felt immense pain because of it all, but that didn't mean that it was acceptable to tear another family apart. Especially when innocent children were at risk.

Titus knew that the majority of his fellow naguals thought nothing of sacrificing a young life in the name of balance. He also knew it wasn't about balance, truthfully. The two young naguals that had been killed by Dean Winchester wouldn't have thought twice about killing the young boy first. They were hell-bent on having fun, even if that fun included taking the lives of innocent people. They didn't care at all about balance, about yin and yang.

So then why was it so important for that balance to be restored when it was the naguals that died?

Titus had argued with his fellow clan members about just that. He had tried to talk sense into those who wanted to seek the Winchester boy and mete out their brand of justice. Some of the older clan members had been on his side and he thought he was making some headway in convincing the others to let it all go when Eliore had shown up.

From that point forward, retribution was key. Eliore spoke even more passionately about the necessity of balance, of darkness and light keeping each other in check. She spoke of the powerful magic that derived from that balance and of the things that would happen if that balance wasn't restored. In no time at all, she had most of them agreeing with her and eager to do whatever it took to return that balance to them.

Titus fought a little longer, but then he inevitably gave in, knowing that his voice no longer carried any weight amongst them. He was reluctant to go along with Eliore's plan, but eventually she wore him down, too.

By the time they'd been able to take the Winchester boy, Titus was back to believing that innocent life shouldn't be spilled in the name of justice. He wanted nothing to do with Eliore's plan, but when he told her, she immediately worked her magic on him. Before he could get away from her and her veiled malevolence, it was too late. She had already bound him to her and he had no choice but to do as she wanted.

Of course, he knew that he actually did have a choice. He could have refused to help her. But, he knew that refusing to assist her would ultimately bring about his own death. And he just wasn't strong enough to face that.

Thinking back on all that he'd seen of the Winchester family, he realized that John Winchester was the type of man that would sacrifice himself to save his sons. It was like a slap in the face for him to realize that there wasn't anyone in his life that he cared for or loved that strongly. He had lived a long and happy life, but the situation he now found himself in just shed light on how little he had to show for it. If he died, who would care? If he died, what would he leave behind? He had no legacy to leave. No one to really mourn his death. No one to remember that he had tried to be a good man his whole life.

At first, being caught by Winchester and his band of hunters had seemed like the worst thing that could've happened to him, but now he wasn't so sure. Even if death was still the ultimate end to this particular part of his story, he suddenly found that he was okay with that. He wasn't under Eliore's control any longer- at least not completely- and he was determined that he would do whatever it took to help save Dean's life. Dean would be his legacy and that was enough for him.

To say that Sam was excited to see his brother awake and up out of the bed was a total understatement. The sight of Dean sitting at the kitchen table, held snugly in his dad's lap, was almost too much for the boy, who immediately squealed loudly and ran to his brother.

Sam hated being little. He hated the way no one ever told him anything and how they always tried to get him away from whatever was going on. When Dean was upstairs, he'd wanted to stay with him, right there on the bed next to his brother. But his dad and Uncle Bobby thought it was better if Pastor Jim took him downstairs. Sam had begged to stay, but it didn't work.

Once he was downstairs, he vacillated between being overly active and overly quiet. Jim tried everything he could think of to get Sam to calm down or to actually talk when he was quiet, but had very little success either way. Sam knew he was being impossible and cranky, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was Dean. And they were all keeping him from his brother. He couldn't help but hold a grudge against Pastor Jim for his part in keeping him apart from his brother, but he gave it up when the man told him they could make a pie for Dean.

But now, Dean was awake. He was sitting right there in front of him. Sam's initial thought was that he was okay, but after looking at him a little longer, Sam realized that something was still wrong. Dean didn't look like himself. And he was letting Dad feed him! Sam knew that normal Dean wouldn't ever let someone feed him like he was a baby.

"What's wrong with Dean?" Sam asked, looking over at his Uncle Bobby.

Bobby seemed to know immediately what was bothering Sam. "He's okay, Sam. He's just really weak and still exhausted. Your daddy's just helping him with the oatmeal."

"He can't do it himself?"

"He can, but it would just take too much out of him, Sam. It's easier this way."

"It's weird," Sam said sadly.

Dean, who had up until that point been staring down at the oatmeal, finally looked up and saw his brother. "Sammy?"

Sam moved over closer to his brother. "Hi, Dean. Are you okay?"

Dean gave his brother a little smile, but didn't answer before John put another bite of oatmeal into his mouth.

"He's fine, Sam," John answered. "He just needs time."

"Wanna go outside when you're done eating, Dean?" Sam asked, excitedly.

"Sam, he needs to rest. Leave him alone for now."

Sam's eyes filled with tears. He quickly tried to hide them, but Dean noticed before he could.

"Sammy? I'll go…. outside….. with you." Dean's words were broken up into small phrases, giving him time to breathe and collect his energy in between.

"No," John said immediately. "You're staying inside, Dean. You need to rest."

"But, Dad," Sam started, but he was quickly stopped by his dad.

"That's enough, Sam. Dean's not going outside. And neither are you."

Sam folded his arms across his chest and stomped his foot. He was just about to argue with his dad, but Bobby stepped in. "Maybe a little fresh air would do him some good, John. Would you like to sit out on the porch with your brother, Dean?"

John glared at his friend for usurping his decision, but he didn't miss the way Dean straightened up a little and smiled a little brighter as he nodded yes.

"Can I, Dad? Please?"

John knew he couldn't deny his son something that would seemingly make him happy, so he gave in. The boy had had so little happiness in his life lately. "Fifteen minutes, boys. And then you're back inside and settling down for a nap."

Both boys looked like they wanted to argue the nap thing, but they both kept their mouths shut. John was happy not to have to deal with any more arguments for the moment. He held another spoonful of oatmeal up to Dean, but the boy turned his head away. "No more?" he asked, setting the spoon down when Dean shook his head. "Okay, then…. Bobby, can you grab a blanket for Dean? It looks a little chilly out there."

Bobby turned and walked towards the living room to grab a warm blanket. John held a glass of water up to Dean's lips and waited for him to take a few sips. When Dean was done, he put the glass down and stood up. "Okay, boys…. Let's go."

John motioned for Titus to follow then, before turning and following Sam to the door. Just before Sam opened the door, John put his hand on it, holding it closed. When Sam looked up at him, John gave him a firm look. "Sammy, if I ever see you stomp your feet like that again, you and I are gonna have a talk you're not gonna like. Understand?"

Sam's eyes quickly flashed down to the floor and his cheeks blushed. "Yes, Daddy," he answered quietly.

Without another word, John opened the door, holding it open for Sam to go out first. He nearly ran into the boy when he suddenly stopped, though.

"Daddy? Who's that?" Sam asked, motioning to someone in the yard. John turned to look and nearly dropped Dean when he realized that Nora Doherty was standing less than thirty feet away from them.

Author's note: I'd like to say I'm really sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'm sure you all know how much I love them. And how much I love torturing you all, lol.

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. And for sticking with the story, even though the updates are few and far between. You guys are all amazing.

I hope you're all staying safe in these strange Covid times. I also hope that you're all staying strong in the wake of the last few episodes and saying goodbye to our show. It's going to be so hard, isn't it?