Chapter 12
Consciousness returned to Dean slowly. His mind felt like it had a fog covering. He moaned and stretched, and immediately stopped as the various aches and pains reminded him that all was not well.
"Good morning," a voice said.
Dean managed to pull his eyes into small slits but he still couldn't see because of the glare of sunlight coming off the white walls.
"Where am I?"
"You're in Stars Common Memorial Hospital," the voice told him.
Suddenly Dean's eyes pried themselves all the way open and he looked at the person in front of him.
"Where's Sam? Is he okay?"
"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"
Finally Dean's vision began to adjust to the light and he realized that the sheriff was standing at the side of his bed questioning him. This couldn't be a good thing.
"My name is Dean Winters. Please, I need to know about Sam."
"You're name isn't Dean Winters. I've checked. I also found your wallet. You had at least ten diver's licenses in it."
"I can explain," Dean said, although at the moment his brain wasn't working fast enough for him to think of anything at all.
"I hope you can explain the things I found in your trunk," the sheriff then added.
Oh crap. This was it. Dean was finally going to jail. He suspected this day would come, but he had hoped it wouldn't before he had the chance to killed the thing that killed mom.
"Is Sam okay?" he asked once more, his voice cracking. "Is he alive?"
"Tell me the truth and I'll tell you about your brother."
"What? Please, I need to know! Did Sam make it?" Dean's eyes glassed over. Was Sam dead? Was that why the sheriff was questioning him without telling him? Because he thought once Dean found out the truth he wouldn't get any answers?
"You want information, I want information. Start talking."
"Sheriff, I'll tell you the truth, and forgive me if I sound like Jack Nickelson, but you won't be able to handle the truth."
"Son, I just watched a wind and lightning storm grow out of a burned down house. Then a man with no head rose out of the rubble and went walking down the road even after I filled him full of bullets that seemed to go right through him. Now I have at least a dozen witnesses all saying they saw a headless man attack you and your brother at your motel. Trust me, I'm open to the truth, no matter how far fetched it's going to be."
"Fine, I swear, I'll tell you everything, but please, you have to tell me. Is Sammy alive?"
The sheriff looked at Dean. The boy was on the verge of falling apart. He understood. He had a brother himself. He walked away from Dean's bed and pulled the curtain back that divided the room. Lying in the bed next to Dean's was Sam.
Dean looked at his brother. He was so pale. His neck was surrounded in bandages at least two inches thick. His arm was equally bandaged and then it had been bound to his chest with more bandages to make sure he didn't move it. He saw wires coming out from underneath Sam's hospital gown and machines above his bed were tracking his heart rate along with other stuff Dean didn't know.
"Is he going to be okay?" Dean asked again. Looking at Sam he didn't know if he should be worried or relieved.
"The doctor's said he pulled through surgery just fine."
"Surgery! What surgery?"
"They had to go in and surgically close off a vein in his neck. That's why he was bleeding so much. When he first got to the hospital they said it was touch and go for a bit. He had lost so much blood. He received two pints of it last night. They closed the wound on his neck and his arm. They're also monitoring a concussion. The doctor says he'll make a full recovery."
"Oh thank god," Dean said. He raised a shaky hand to his eyes and closed then tight to stop the tears of relief that threatened to fall.
The sheriff gave him a moment to compose himself and then continued.
"Now it's your turn. How is it that Dean Winchester, a murder who was shot dead two months ago, is in my town?"
"I'm not a murder," Dean said suddenly. "The guy they killed, he looked like me, but he wasn't me. I've never killed a person in my life."
"I'm inclined to believe you. I've only known you and your brother for a short time, but I don't believe you two are killers, but I am curious, why did that thing come after you last night, and how did you manage to survive its attack when everyone else who met up with it died."
"Sam realized the book was the thing binding the ghost to reality."
"That thing was a ghost? I thought ghosts were invisible, mostly harmless except for the occasional light flickering and door rattling."
"If only," Dean sighed. "My brother and I hunt these things."
"Ghosts?" the sheriff asked in disbelief.
"Among other things. Put it this way, all the things your parents told you about there being no such things as monsters, well, it's not true. There are monsters in closets, there are boogey men, and there are really pissed off ghosts who exact revenge and kill people."
"Then why don't more people know about these things?"
"Because they don't want to know!" Dean said in frustration. "Do you know how many children go missing every single year? Hell, every week? People always just assume the kid was kidnapped. Every time someone dies mysteriously or drops dead from a heart attack they just turn a blind eye to it and say oh well. The handful of real para-psychologists out there are objects of ridicule and usually discredited and even fired by the universities they work for."
"So you and your brother took it upon yourselves to go kill the monsters."
"Actually, Dad was the one who taught us everything. Our mom was murdered by some thing when I was just five years old. Sam was a baby. Dad started hunting for it the very next day. As we grew up it became a family business you might say."
"Where is your Dad? Should I call him and let him know you two are hurt?"
"We don't know where he is at the moment. He's been missing for about six months now. We've been driving all over the country trying to find him."
"I still don't understand why this thing came after you two," the sheriff said.
"The horseman was going after anyone who tried to take care of Sarah Beth. Mary Rains was controlling it. She murdered her brother for raping her for years."
"How do you know this?"
"She told us when she tried to kill us. That's how Sam got his concussion. She nailed him with a shovel. She had all the heads in her basement."
"I'm confused," the sheriff interrupted.
Dean was growing more frustrated. "Mary practiced black magic. She had an altar in the basement. My guess is between the bit of magic she knew, the way she killed Jacob, and leaving the book behind at the scene and getting his blood on it, she accidentally created a monster that she hadn't planned on making. Then, once she realized what she had done, she used her little creation to punish the one person she hated more than any other."
"Sarah," the sheriff said.
"Sarah," Dean confirmed. Mary thought it wasn't fair that Sarah had such a perfect life. Her jealousy consumed her, made her sick. Sam and I managed to escape from her. We set the heads and the altar on fire to stop the monster. Mary wouldn't leave the house. She attacked us and tried to kill us again but Sam and I busted out through a window. Mary had already summoned the ghost to come after Sam. I thought when I set the fire we destroyed everything and stopped it. I didn't know Sam had found the book and shoved it in his pocket."
"So this thing then wakes up and comes to the hotel to kill Sam."
"Yep. It came damn close to succeeding too. Thank god Sam burned the book while I distracted the bastard."
The sheriff stood there in silence. Dean was starting to feel nervous again. Either the sheriff was planning on having him committed to the psych ward, or was preparing to bring him up on charges for Mary Rains.
"Okay," he finally said.
"Okay?" Dean asked, clearly confused.
"I believe you."
"You do?"
For the first time the sheriff actually smiled at him. "Son, I have to believe you. I saw it with my own eyes, as did everyone at that motel. A headless man tried to kill you and your brother."
"So you're not going to arrest us?" Dean asked hopefully.
"No. The way I see it, I owe you and your brother a big thanks. Mary would have kept sending that thing to kill people because eventually she would have become jealous over someone else, and I wouldn't have had a clue how to stop it."
A nurse entered the room. "Oh good, you're awake." She began to check his vitals and shoved a thermometer in his mouth. She also checked his blood pressure. "You're doing well. Blood pressure is normal and your temperature is just a little high, but that's normal for the healing process."
"Healing process?" Dean asked.
"You got twenty-two stitches across your chest last night and then ten more for a gash on your back."
Dean lifted up the neck of his gown and saw his chest was completely wrapped in gauze. It had never even occurred to him to ask how badly he was hurt. Until that moment he hadn't even been in any pain, but now that he knew about it the wounds began to throb.
Next she went to Sam's bed and repeated the process all over.
"How's my brother doing?" Dean asked.
"His temperature is pretty high but again, it's normal considering the trauma he had. His BP is good and otherwise he's resting comfortably."
"When will he wake up?"
"When he's ready to," she said with a smile. She immediately saw the fear in Dean's eyes that her vague answer had caused.
"He's going to be fine, but he was pretty messed up when he got here last night. He's going to need some time to recover."
"Okay," Dean said.
"The doctor will be here in a while," the nurse offered. "He'll be able to tell you anything else you need to know. Also, some one from billing will be coming in to get your insurance information."
"Uh…we don't have any insurance," Dean said.
Suddenly the friendly nurse didn't look quite so friendly. "I'll have to let billing know that. You and your brother might have to be transferred to the county hospital then."
"Wait a minute," Dean said. "You can kick me out of my bed right now. I'll go to a motel, but you can't move Sam."
"I'm afraid that we may not have a choice." The nurse began to walk out of the room when the sheriff stopped her.
"These boys are to be left alone. They're heroes. They stopped the murderer whose been cutting off people's heads. I want them kept in the same room. Send their medical bills to me. I think the town can take care of them as a sign of thanks."
"Yes, sir," the nurse said. She looked back at Dean and he gave her a gloating little smile. She flushed and left the room.
The sheriff looked back at Dean. "There was an $8,000 reward for anyone who helped us capture the murderer. I'll make sure it gets to you and your brother."
"Uh…thanks," Dean said. "Really…not just for the money, but…but for helping Sam stay in the hospital."
"He's really important to you."
"He's all I have left."
"You two take care of yourselves, and I hope you find your father." Then the sheriff left.
Dean turned to look at Sam again. His brother hadn't moved at all. Dean pulled his covers back and gently climbed out of bed. Wow he hurt in a lot of places. He went to the bathroom and then walked over to Sam's bed.
He took Sam's hand in his. It was strange. Sam was three inches taller than him, but some how he always seemed so small to Dean. In his mind he would always be the baby of the family. He looked at all the wires that was connected to Sam and listened to the steady rhythm of Sam's heart beat. At the foot of the bed he saw Sam had a catheter in him. He grimaced at the thought of it, but he guesses it was better than having Sam wet the bed while he was unconscious.
Dean sat down in the chair next to Sam's bed and continued to hold his hand.
"Sammy, you sure know how to scare the shit out of someone, you know that? All I can say is what happened last night better never happen again, or I'll kick your ass myself. I don't ever want to hear you say good-bye to me. You're not allowed to die. Do you hear me? You are not allowed to die. I won't let you leave me again. You're a pain in the ass…you whine…you're moody…and you keep me awake most nights…but I need you, and it's not because I can't hunt alone. It's not about hunting. I won't be able to handle it if you go away again." Dean's voice cracked and he had to stop talking.
He dropped his head on to Sam's arm as the emotions inside of him threatened to consume him. Dean didn't understand why he was being so emotional. He was stronger than this. What would Dad say if he walked in to see Dean blubbering like a baby? No, he had to hold it together. Men don't cry. He drew a deep breath and cleared his throat. His head snapped up when he suddenly felt Sam squeeze his hand.
"Sammy? Sam can you hear me?"
Sam never attempted to open his eyes, but once more he squeezed Dean's hand, reassuring him that he would be all right.
Dean smiled and wiped at his eyes for the last time. He patted Sam's hand and then let go. He walked back to his own bed and lay down once more. He needed to get some more rest himself. Sam was going to need Dean's help for a while and he had to make sure he was strong enough for the both of them.
He was pretty sure Sam would never remember the chick flick moment that had just taken place, and yet, part of him wouldn't even care if Sam did remember it. The events of the last twenty-four hours had shaken Dean to the core. Sure, they had been injured plenty of times on the job. There had even been close calls, but not until last night had he faced the real possibility that one of them might actually die.
From now on there would be more precautions. Never again would they be in a hotel room with all of their weapons in the trunk. From now on they would salt the rooms and the shot guns would be taken in too. Dean made up his mind that they would never be caught with their pants down ever again. Too much was at stake.
He looked over at Sam once more. His body was finally accepting the fact that they were safe, both from the ghost, and the cops. Sam would get better, and they would even have some money to boot. With the knowledge that everything was going to be okay he finally closed his eyes and went to sleep.