Thank you so much Ktoon for beta'ing for me, and thank you Ncsupnatfan and VegasGranny for working your pre-reading magic xxx


Chapter Seven

When they got back to Sam's room after waiting the requisite two hours, Doctor Bates was just coming out with a man Dean didn't recognise. They were talking quietly, but when they spotted Mary, Dean and Bobby coming toward them, they stopped and smiled.

"How is he?" Mary asked at once.

Doctor Bates looked pleased. "Sam has given us blanket permission for us to discuss his care with you—which we need now he's awake—so I can answer any questions you have. He's doing better than we expected. We examined his chest on the scan as well as his back, and his lungs are clearing well. He's going to deal with a cough and shortness of breath for a while, but that will settle over time."

"What about his back?" Dean asked.

The man Dean didn't know answered. "I'm Peter Kent, a physiotherapist that was brought in to assess Sam. The pain he is suffering is from a muscle strain between his L4 and L5 vertebrae that we believe came from the angle of his body as he fell. There is no other sign of injury to his spine. He was very lucky. He's going to be in pain for a while, and we've advised him to accept a walking aid, but he will heal with time and rest. When the pain is managed, he will need to start gentle exercise. I've given him information to follow when he's ready."

"Is the neck brace off?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, and he says he is more comfortable now. We have assessed his strength and mobility, and though there is some weakness from the period of time he was inactive, his pre-existing fitness and muscle strength has saved him from the worst of it. I have seen people with much shorter periods of unconsciousness struggle much more than he will. He is very lucky."

Dean assumed he didn't know about Sam losing his girlfriend, as no one could label Sam as lucky if they knew about that.

He was glad Sam was doing so well, though. He already had enough to overcome without adding more physical issues.

"When can we get him out of here?" Bobby asked.

"Not yet," Doctor Bates said apologetically. "He needs to finish his course of intravenous antibiotics and his lung capacity will need to improve. We will reassess in a few days."

Mary nodded and held out her hand to the doctor. "Thank you for all you've done."

Doctor Bates shook her hand and said, "Sam has done most of this himself. Your son is very strong."

"He is," Mary agreed fervently.

Doctor Bates' pager beeped, and she made a quick apology before rushing away, leaving them with the physiotherapist who said, "In cases like this, it's easy to want to protect the patient, but that doesn't always help. Let Sam test his strength when he feels ready. It's good for him."

"We will," Mary said, her eyes drifting to the door that separated them from Sam. It was obvious she wanted to be through it now.

Peter smiled wryly. "I'll leave you now, but I will probably see you again. I'll meet with Sam at least once more before his discharge, more if he needs it."

Mary nodded quickly as she pushed open the door and rushed into Sam's room. Dean shot Peter an apologetic smile before following her, hearing Bobby thank Peter on their behalf.

Dean was expecting Sam to be in the bed again, resting after what had to have been a tiring afternoon for him, but he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, trying to put on a pair of white rubber-soled slippers.

"Sam," Mary said, her eyebrows raising. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get these on," Sam said dully. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Dean could see the conflict on Mary's face. Like Dean, she obviously would have preferred Sam to be resting, but Dean could tell what the physiotherapist had said about letting Sam do what he could was at the forefront of her mind still.

"Let me help," she said.

Sam sighed and straightened up as she rushed to him and eased the shoes onto his feet. When they were securely in place, she held out a hand to Sam, who took it and eased himself upright. He looked unsteady for a moment, and Dean fought the urge to jump in and help, but he got his balance then released Mary and made slow progress to the small bathroom door set into the opposite wall.

Bobby came in and he smiled widely as he saw Sam on his feet. "Sam," he said, his relief obvious in his voice. "It's good to see you on your feet, boy."

"Hey, Bobby," Sam said, his tone neutral.

Dean realized he'd had no proper greeting from his brother at all, but he thought he preferred that to Sam's reaction to Bobby. Even without knowing that Bobby had seen him lying unconscious for days, had spent that time worrying about him and willing him to wake, he should have been happy to see Bobby as it had been months since they'd been together. He would have shown more pleasure in it before. It had to be the shock of waking and disorientation, Dean thought, because it couldn't be grief. Sam still didn't understand that Jess was gone. He would never be so calm if he did. Perhaps he was upset she wasn't there with him, too.

Sam walked into the bathroom and clicked the door closed behind him.

There was a thump, as if he had fallen against it, and Mary called his name, worry in her voice. But he called back, "I'm fine," and there was a strange noise as if he was pushing himself against the wood, then nothing.

"Do you think he's doing too much?" Mary asked, her eyes moving between Bobby and Dean.

"You heard what they said," Bobby reminded her. "He has to test himself. He won't push too hard."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? Because the Sam I know will absolutely push himself too hard. He's not going to like feeling weak."

Bobby shot a glance at Mary and Dean realized that his words had been an empty reassurance meant to comfort Mary, not to tell the truth.

"He'll be okay," Mary whispered.

Bobby nodded. "He will. I think he's—"

He cut off as the bathroom door opened again and Sam peered out, his mouth downturned. "I need a razor," he stated.

Dean was surprised. He knew Sam hated the feeling of stubble, and the scruff that had grown while he was unconscious was creeping toward a beard now, but he figured something like that would have waited till he'd been conscious more than a few hours.

"We don't have one," Bobby said. "We should have thought. Sorry. They sell stuff like that in the gift shop though. I'll run down and get you one. Is there anything else you need?"

"I need to clean my teeth," Sam said.

Bobby nodded and said, "I'll be right back," before patting Mary's arm and leaving the room.

Sam closed the door again and Dean sighed. "We should have thought of that," he muttered. "Everything he had would have been destroyed in the fire."

"I'll get him what he needs tomorrow," Mary said. "He's going to be here at least a few more days so we can have it all ready for when he gets out."

Dean nodded his agreement and an awkward silence settled over them.

Dean hadn't really thought much past Sam actually waking up other than the pain he was going to suffer emotionally after Jessica's loss. Had he imagined it, he wouldn't have expected this. He'd have assumed there would be more time with Sam lying in bed again, conscious this time. He'd have thought he'd be resting more.

Mary was staring at the closed bathroom door and chewing her lip, breaking the stare when Bobby came in carrying a paper sack and a cane. "Peter met me outside and gave me this cane," he said, walking around Dean and Mary and knocking on the door. "Sam, I've got your stuff, and the physio dropped off a cane for you to use."

The door opened, and Sam reached out. Bobby held out the bag and cane, saying, "I got you a t-shirt, too."

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the bag but ignoring the offered cane.

Bobby sighed, and as the door closed again, he said, "Let's give him a little space. Dean, come back to the motel with me. We'll get some dinner."

"I don't want to leave yet," Dean said. "Sam might need me."

"I think Sam just needs his mom right now," Bobby said, lowering his voice.

Dean scowled, unwilling to leave Sam already, knowing Sam might need him too. "I don't want to leave him yet. He's only just woken up."

"I know." There was a little too much understanding in his voice to make Dean comfortable. "And I think he is going to need you soon, but maybe not yet. He's more likely to talk to you than us, but first he needs to actually understand what's happened, and he doesn't need us for that. It's going to hit him hard, and he's going to have questions. He needs to feel. I think that it'll be harder if he has to deal with us all at once. Sometimes you just need your mom. You know that."

Mary nodded, and Dean could tell she was eager to have some time alone with Sam, too.

"Go, Dean," she encouraged. "I'll call you if we need you or if anything happens. I promise."

Reluctant but reassured, Dean knocked on the bathroom door and said, "Sammy, me and Bobby are going to head out. I'll be back soon."

There was no response from inside, and Dean frowned. Sam hadn't acknowledged him at all yet, and now he wasn't even going to react to the fact he was leaving. It made him even more reluctant to leave.

Mary patted his arm and said, "I'll make sure he knows, Dean."

Dean hesitated a moment longer and then accepted her kiss on his cheek and walked through the door out into the hall with Bobby on his heels. He felt a pull back to the room with each step he took, but refused it, as he knew it was about him, not Sam. He wanted to be with his brother, but Sam might not want him there. He knew what Bobby was carefully not saying to spare his feelings—Sam might not feel comfortable being weak in front of him.

Dean would never judge, but he and Sam had never had an emotionally expressive relationship, despite Sam's attempts. Dean had teased him for it even. He regretted that now as he thought it would be easier for Sam if he didn't have to censor himself and what he was feeling, but he couldn't break years of creating a barrier to mushy moments with carefully chosen words now.

He needed to let Mary do what she could for him and then offer his help when Sam was ready for it.


Since Bobby had flown into California, he didn't have a car. He'd been using Mary's Jeep when he needed to get around after they arrived, and before that he'd stayed in the hospital with Sam. Dean drove them to the motel in the Impala and pulled into a spot outside Bobby's room.

Bobby climbed out and took his phone from his pocket. "Grab us a couple sodas from the machine," he said. "I'll order us a pizza."

Dean rooted in his pocket for change and fed the machine as Bobby let himself into his room and started talking on the phone, giving their order.

Dean got their drinks and then went into Bobby's room, closing the propped door behind him and setting the cans down on the table just as Bobby was hanging up. "They said it won't be long," he said.

Dean picked up a pen and pad of motel stationery from the bedside table and carried it over to the table, sitting down.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked.

"Making a list of what Sam is going to need," Dean said. "He would have lost everything in the fire, so we need to get him stuff to get by until he can shop for himself."

"That's a good idea. It'll save your mom needing to go. We'll run by a store tomorrow before going back in."

"You don't think we'll have to go back before?" Dean asked, looking up from his list.

Bobby shook his head sadly. "I think he'll be okay with your mom for a while. Like I said, she's who he needs."

"I know," Dean said reluctantly. "I just…"

He couldn't put into words what he was feeling. After they'd waited so long, days of fear, Sam was awake, but Dean didn't feel the relief properly. In a way, Sam's coolness was worse than if he was breaking down. The fact he hadn't understood, or maybe accepted, what had happened made it harder for Dean to know what to do. He was scared of what was going to happen to Sam when he finally felt it.

"You're worried," Bobby stated. "We all are. But he's awake now, and he's getting better; in a few days he'll probably be out of hospital."

"He's so different though," Dean said. "He's not feeling it."

"He wasn't then. For all we know, he could be feeling it right now with your mom. Believe me, Dean, whatever is going on right now can't last. I've lived it. I know what it feels like."

Dean nodded. Bobby rarely mentioned his wife Karen and what happened to her. Dean and Sam had heard the story of her death without the true facts many years ago when they'd found a wedding photo of her and Bobby. Mary had told them that Bobby had been married, but she'd died. It wasn't until much later that the full story of how she'd been possessed had come out one night, aided by a bottle of whiskey, on the anniversary of her death.

"What does it feel like?" he asked. "What is Sam going to feel?"

He almost withdrew the question when he saw Bobby's face, but he didn't. He needed to know this if he was going to be able to help Sam, and he couldn't ask Mary while she was so consumed with Sam.

"There aren't words for how I felt," Bobby said after a long period of tense silence. "My whole world was torn apart." He sighed. "I never told you it all. I've been weighted with guilt for so long and I didn't want to admit it, but I think this is going to bear similarities to Sam's story, so I guess I should. Karen wasn't killed by the demon that possessed her. She was killed by me."

Dean's eyes widened, and he had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth after realizing it had dropped open with shock.

Bobby smiled knowingly. "The rest is true: she was possessed and tried to kill me. But I tried to kill her, too. It was pure survival instinct. I would never have hurt her otherwise, but she was rabid, coming at me. I stabbed her, but she didn't drop. After Rufus came and exorcised her, she lived only a minute longer. She died in my arms."

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," Dean whispered, horror and pain for his surrogate father filling him.

Bobby rubbed a hand over his face. "I killed her. Sam didn't kill Jess, but I know about survivors' guilt, and I know him. I'm sure Sam is going to be blaming himself for what happened, no matter what started that fire. We're all going to need to help him through that as well as his grief."

"How do we do that?" Dean asked, at a loss. He knew it was going to take more than just telling him to reach Sam if he didn't want to hear it. Once Sam got something in his head, something he wanted to do or say, he was relentless. If he was blaming himself for Jessica's death, it was going to be even worse.

"We listen when he talks and try to guide him to the truth on his own. I think the most important thing we can do is let Sam show us what he needs. For me it was action; Rufus saved my life by taking me into the hunting world."

"I don't want Sam hunting!" Dean said quickly. "Not if he's distracted."

"Neither do I," Bobby said. "But I don't think that's going to be an issue until his back has healed anyway, and that will take a little time."

"He'll tell us what he needs," Dean said confidently. "Sam's an open book."

Bobby looked uncertain. "He was. We don't know what he's going to be like after this. We might have to work it out for ourselves." He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll be honest, Dean, I'm scared. Sam feels everything so deeply, and I'm worried about how he's going to handle this. And there's things we need to talk to him about that are going to make it worse. The fire department couldn't nail down a cause for the fire, which makes it more suspicious. If the demon is back, we need to know, which means we have to make him talk about it."

Dean's heart lurched. It had taken Bobby years to tell them what happened to his wife, even longer before he admitted the truth of how he'd killed her. He'd hidden it all those years to protect himself. What if Sam did the same? None of them would be able to push him to talk about it, but they needed to know.

"What do we do?" he asked. "He might not be ready yet. I don't want him hurting even more."

Bobby looked up at him with sad eyes. "I don't think we can wait until he's ready." Seeing Dean's anger, he rushed on. "I don't want to hurt him anymore that you or your mother do—he's my family, too—but this is bigger than any of us."

Dean shook his head. "Not until he's ready."

"Dean…" Bobby said sadly.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean it. Sam will tell us when he's ready." Seeing that Bobby still didn't agree, he said, "How would you have felt if it was you, Bobby? If you had to relieve what happened to you and Karen before you were ready? It took you twenty-two years to tell me the whole story."

"It was different. No one else was in danger after she died. The demon was already in Hell."

"It's not going to feel different for him though. He's got too much to deal with already without having to tell us about how she died. He'll tell us when he's ready, and not before." His jaw jutted out. "And if you try to force him to talk about it, I swear I'll stop you, whatever it takes."

"I'd never force him to do anything," Bobby said, obviously hurt by the threat.

Dean smiled grimly. "Good. He'll talk about it when he's ready."

Bobby sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll back you, but I think it's a mistake. We should know as soon as we can."

"Maybe we should," Dean said. "But Sam deserves to have time before we make him relive it. We have to give him what peace we can."

"He's not having real peace after this," Bobby said, his eyes dark with sadness. "No matter what we do or say."

Dean knew that, but if there was a way to protect his brother from more pain, he was going to take it. Sam needed him to.


So… Who's in the right here? Bobby for being practical and putting his own discomfort at pushing Sam aside, or Dean for protecting him?

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx