Chapter 7: The Day After Christmas
Author's Notes: I CAN'T believe how long this story ended up being. Seriously, it was supposed to be a one or two shot little sentimental Christmas tidbit that has seriously gotten out of control. I had no intention of writing another novel length story but from the happy reviews I'm guessing most of you aren't complaining:-)
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"These wounds are looking much better," the doctor said. He had returned to the penthouse to change Sam's bandages and apply more ointment to keep them from sticking.
"So no more infection?" Dean asked. He was standing to the side watching the doctor's ministrations closely.
"The skin is still red and swollen but there is no more puss seeping out. That is very good. Just keep these clean and dry. Change the bandage every twenty four hours and apply more antibiotic ointment when you do and he will be fine. The stitches can come out in one week."
Tonight Sam was spared having to be wrapped like a mummy. The doctor put large gauze bandages on the cuts and held them in place with medical tape.
"I want you to keep taking the antibiotic pills I gave you, plus you pain medicine if you need it. If you can tolerate the pain you don't have to take them."
"Okay," Sam mumbled into the pillow.
"There, you're all done. You can put your shirt back on now."
"Thank you again, doctor," Nick said and he escorted the physician out of the room.
Sam stood up and reached for his shirt.
"Well, his bedside manner is definitely better than yours," Sam teased.
"Hey, that guy didn't do anything for you that I couldn't have done myself," Dean insisted.
"True, but getting stitches from him sure hurt a hell of a lot less than it would have from you."
"That's only because he has access to local anesthesia. We need to look into getting a bottle of that for us somehow. Maybe we can find a way to fake a prescription."
"Dean, they don't write prescriptions for that stuff. You would have to actually pose as a doctor to get that."
Dean just shrugged and gave a wicked smirk.
Sam shook his head but he wouldn't complain. Honestly, if Dean could find a way to get a hold of that stuff he would be thrilled.
"Come on, let's go get some pie," Dean said after Sam slipped on his sweater.
"You're going to make yourself ill," Sam warned.
"No I'm not."
"What ever you say."
Dean ended up turning in early after eating a slice of both pies and a piece of the Tiramisu cake. Sam suspected Dean had finally eaten himself sick but wouldn't own up to having a stomachache since Sam had warned him to take it easy.
Sam was sitting at the dining table drinking a cup of hot chocolate while Nick finally sampled the Tiramisu cake with a cup of coffee.
"Nick, if it is okay with you, Dean and I would like to stay one more day."
"You mean you would like to stay one more day and Dean has agreed to give you what you want," Nick smiled knowingly.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Sam grinned. "Do you do that to everyone you meet?"
"No, actually. Like you I've spent most of my life hiding my abilities from others. It's actually quite liberating to be with you two and be so open with it. For most of my life I had to censor my every word."
"I can imagine," Sam said. "Do you think my abilities will progress to the level that yours are?"
"I honestly don't know," Nick said. "But I can tell you that you have great power in you. It is still new and undeveloped, but it is there just waiting to be let out."
"What if…what if I don't want to let it out?" Sam asked. "Is there a way to make this go away?"
"Now why would you want to do that?"
"Because, this gift is really a curse. I go to sleep at night only to see the most horrible and grisly images; people being killed, ripped to pieces by monsters, children stolen in the night. It's one thing to deal with it when I'm awake but if only I could turn it off come the night. I feel like I never get a break."
"The few people I've met over the years who lost their power all had one thing in common. They died and came back."
"But I thought that was how you got your power!" Sam pointed out.
"It was. The people I'm talking about have literally died twice and returned twice."
"Wow," Sam gasped. "But, I never died. I've been hurt really bad, but I've never actually died so what caused my powers in the first place? Was it what happened to my mom, but if that's true it doesn't make sense because I've lived most my life never having had this power? It all just started about six months ago, and I can't say that what happened with Jess triggered it either since it started before she…she died."
"Sam, I'm at a loss for your condition. It may have something to do with the thing itself that took your mom and Jess. I think if you and Dean can find that thing and kill it your powers might just go away, but I can't swear to that. It is only speculation on my part."
"It makes sense though. I've actually had the same idea in my head."
"Sam, I want you to promise me something."
"What?"
"Don't do anything drastic."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, but his face betrayed a guilty conscious.
"I know you have considered suicide in the past. Just know that if you did that, it would kill Dean to, and I mean that quite literally. As for dying and coming back, if you did something to cause you to die, there is no guarantee that you would manage to come back, and even if you did you might still have your abilities. My advice to you is to learn how to cope with this. It won't be easy, but I know you can, and Dean will help you if you let him."
"Is there any way I can stop it just at night?" Sam asked.
"There might be some type of spell or talisman, maybe even a dream catcher, but I don't know. Fortunately for me, I have never been plagued by nightmares the way you have. I have premonitions, but very, very rarely have they been like yours."
"Why are mine so bad?"
"Because of what you and Dean do, obviously. Your ability is trying to serve you, to help you, and unfortunately it shows you what you need to know to continue the hunt and save people."
Sam looked so forlorn, so resigned to his fate that Nick's heart went out to him.
"I promise, son, it will get better with time. You'll learn to control it, and you might even be able yourself to keep it out of your dreams at night once you do."
Sam looked at Nick. He wasn't used to having someone talk to him with such compassion, such understanding. His entire life he had wanted this type of a relationship with his father, but it had been always denied. When Sam would try to talk to the man he would send Sam away, just shut him out. John was too wrapped up with the things in his own head to take time to listen to the needs of his kids. Sam suddenly found himself wishing that Nick could have been his dad.
"Trust me, Sam. I have a great deal of life experiences behind me. When I was younger I was far from being the perfect father. My mistakes were so great that they eventually led to the death of both of my sons. One I drove away, and one I turned my back on."
"But you never kicked your kids out of the house, did you?"
"No, I didn't have to. My kids couldn't wait to get away from me," Nick said sadly. "It's easy to know what you're doing when you finally make it to your seventies. It's easy to understand what is truly important in life once you have been told your life is running out. Unfortunately my understanding and wisdom came to late for my family, but maybe I can pass a little of it on to you and Dean so everything I learned won't have been for nothing."
"I'm glad I had the chance to meet you," Sam said.
"And I you," Nick said. "Well, young man, it is late, and if you and Dean are going to stay one more day, then you are going to need to be well rested because I am going to plan a day of fun for all of us."
"You don't have to do that," Sam said with a smile.
"But I want to," Nick grinned mischievously. "Now, off to bed with you, and when you get to your room please tell Dean there is some antacid in the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. I believe you will find him tossing and turning in your room from discomfort."
"I told him not to try all three deserts," Sam laughed.
"So you did. Good night, Sam."
"Good night."
Sam got up from the table and went to his room. Sure enough Dean was awake and even in the dark room Sam could see Dean's face all scrunched up and his arms wrapped around his stomach.
Sam went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He found a box of Alka-Seltzer inside and dropped a tablet into a small glass of water. Then he went back into the bedroom.
"Here, drink this," Sam ordered.
"What is it?"
"Alka-Seltzer. It will help your stomachache."
"My stomach is fine. I have an iron constitution."
"Dean, you're two seconds from hurling into the waste basket. Now drink this already."
"Fine, but just to shut you up and make you leave me alone." Dean grabbed the glass and downed the contents in one long gulp. As he passed the glass back to Sam a loud burp escaped his lips.
"Charming," Sam laughed and put the dirty glass back in the bathroom.
Sam brushed his teeth and then went back to his side of the bed. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped between the covers. He would surely miss this bed once they left here.
"Did you talk to Nick about staying one more day?" Dean asked.
"Yes, he's happy about it. He said he's going to plan something fun."
"For a guy who's dying he sure likes to stay active," Dean pointed out.
"He's trying to make the most of the time he has left. I can't say I blame him. You would do the same."
"Yeah, I guess I would. Good night, Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"Whatever. G' night."
"G'night."
Sam closed his eyes and for the second night in a row had pleasant dreams.
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The next morning both Winchesters were awoken in the same manner as they had been the day before. Two waiters knocked on the door and entered carrying in bed trays loaded with food.
"Good morning," the one wearing a name tag that read Bob said.
"Hmm, morning," Dean said groggily. He sat up and flattened the blanket around him to make room for his table.
Sam also sat up after raising up his pillow to cushion his back. Then his tray was set in place. "Thank you."
"Your welcome, sir."
Bob went and opened the drapes while the other one set down the newspapers and turned on the tv, once more to CNN.
"Anything else?" Bob asked.
"No, we're good," Dean said as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
The trays were lifted to reveal tall stacks of blue berry pancakes with several mounds of whipped butter on them, maple sausage, Canadian Bacon, coffee, and orange juice. A small pitcher of warm syrup was set on the bedside table. Then Bob and the other guy left.
"Room service is a wonderful thing," Dean said.
"Without question," Sam agreed. "Make sure you enjoy it since we'll be leaving tomorrow."
Dean picked up the remote and changed the channel. He honestly couldn't care what was happening in the world. Wars, politics, scandals, none of it mattered to him. The life he led was so far from the main stream that there had never been any purpose to knowing who was fighting with whom or who was sleeping with whom or any of that other stuff people was worrying about on a day to day basis.
He smiled when he found Tom & Jerry on the cartoon network and put the remote down. He doubted even Sam could find a reason to complain about his choice of TV today and he was right when Sam laughed at the antics on the television.
Dean noticed that Sam was looking really healthy today. There were no bags under his eyes, no creases in his brows, or frown on his face. He looked like someone who was well rested and well fed, and had no major worries going on in his head. He looked like he did that night Dean had shown up unannounced at his and Jessica's apartment, before grief and pain had entered his life once more.
"Dude, you're staring. Is there food on my face?" Sam asked.
"Nope, just noticing how truly ugly you really are," Dean teased.
"Ha, ha," Sam replied and forked a bite of pancakes in his mouth.
"I'll trade you some ham for a sausage link," Dean said.
"Not a chance."
"Come on, please."
"You have your own."
"Yeah, but you really like ham and I really like sausage, so come on, trade."
"No."
"Sam, give me your sausage or so help me I'll wrestle you to the floor to get it."
"I have a better idea."
"What?"
"Why don't you just ask for some more," Sam explained.
"Huh?"
"EXCUSE ME!" Sam called through the door. Instantly the door was opened by good ol' Bob.
"Yes?"
"Can my brother get a few more links of sausage?"
"Of course." Bob left for a moment and reappeared with a small dish holding three additional links which he placed on Dean's table.
"Thank you," Sam said to the man as he walked out of the room again.
"Sweet!" Dean said, speared a link, and shoved half of it in his mouth.
"Just don't eat as much today as you did yesterday," Sam said.
"I told you, my stomach was fine last night. I only drank that crap to get you off my case."
Sam just laughed and shook his head.
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Sam slipped on his new parka and was very happy with how thick and warm it was. Once again he was wearing new clothes with designer labels he had never heard of.
Dean stepped out of his room also wearing new clothes. He put on his coat and gloves and looked at Sam.
"So where is it we're going exactly?" he asked.
"I don't know," Sam said. "Nick has yet to tell us."
"Ah, boys," Nick exclaimed as he came out of his room. "I see you're ready to go."
"Go where?" Dean asked.
"You'll see," Nick said with a large smile gracing his face.
The three left the penthouse and rode the elevator down. Outside a limousine was waiting for them.
"Are you serious?" Dean asked.
"Always. We're going to do something I haven't done since my boys were just little tykes, and something I know for a fact neither of you have ever done."
"What's that?" Sam asked. His curiosity was driving him crazy. He was feeling a thrill of excitement he hadn't felt in a long time.
"You'll see when we get there."
It took about twenty-five minutes before the limo finally arrived at their destination. Both Sam and Dean broke out laughing when they realized where they were.
"The circus?" Dean chuckled. "I didn't even realize these things still traveled around anymore."
"I love the circus. When my boys were little we used to go almost every year until they finally said they were too old to go."
The driver opened the door and the three climbed out and headed for the main entrance. Nick handed over three tickets to the man at the gate and they continued inside. Nick had managed to get tickets for front row center.
Sam didn't even bother to ask how he had managed to do that on such short notice. If there was one thing Sam was now totally confident in, it was that Nick had enough money to pretty much make happen just about anything he wanted, whether it was front row tickets or somehow having a ton of Christmas presents delivered on Christmas Eve when most people had gone to sleep for the evening and all stores were supposedly closed.
Vendors walked up and down the isles hocking popcorn, cotton candy, hotdogs, chips, and snow cones along with assorted toys at outrageous prices.
Sam was enjoying just looking around at all the excitement and watching the kids dance around.
Two elephants were brought out and boys and girls with their parents lined up to get a ride on the large animals' backs.
"Sammy, do you want to ride the nice elephant," Dean teased.
Sam broke out laughing. "Shut up."
"You know you want to," Dean laughed.
"You're hopeless."
One look at Nick and it was clear he was having the time of his life as well. Then the elephants left the floor and the lights dimmed. A minute later the ring master addressed the crowd and announced it was time for the parade of stars. All the performers and the elephants marched out and made a complete circle around the arena. Then the show began.
Even Dean was engrossed in the acrobats and trapeze artists but he was most impressed the two motorcycles inside the cage shaped like a ball. He'd like to have tried to do that.
For Sam the best part was the clowns, in particular the ones that pissed off Dean. For several minutes the five clowns had been throwing buckets of water at each other under the pretense that they were trying to put out a small fire in a garbage can. Then one of the clowns had supposed lost his balance and started stumbling towards Dean. When Dean realized what was about to happen he yelled "Oh shit!"
Just when Dean expected to get soaked a bucket full of gold confetti was tossed all over him and the audience roared in laughter. Dean was cursing and spitting out confetti and Sam was laughing so hard that he thought he might cry. Even Nick's belly was rolling as he laughed out loud.
Finally the show ended and they all headed back to the limo. The boys thought they were going back to the hotel but apparently Nick wasn't finished with his day of fun yet. The limo drove once more to the classy part of the village and stopped in front of the Orchestra Hall.
Sam looked at Dean and saw him looking almost sick. Classical music wasn't exactly Dean's thing and anyone who knew him knew this was going to be a painful experience for him.
"Don't worry, Dean," Nick said, reading his mind. "I promise you'll like this. This isn't just any old symphony. This is the Trans-Siberian Orchestra."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"Basically imagine for a minute that Metallica came out with a Christmas collection. This is what it would sound like."
"I guess that could be interesting."
"Trust me, you'll love it."
They still had time before the show was due to start so they had a leisurely meal in the bistro that was in the basement of the Orchestra Hall. The place had a great atmosphere with its vintage hard wood floors and stone walls. Trees grew everywhere in the restaurant from where holes had been made in the floor to allow for the roots. The overall effect was very nice.
They all ordered soup and sandwiches with gourmet coffees.
"So Sam, tell me about Stanford?" Nick said.
"I liked it there. I got along well with all my professors but man they loaded on the work. There would be times when I would spend entire weekends in the library doing research."
"Why law?" Nick asked.
"I'm not sure," Sam replied. "It just felt right."
"I know why?" Dean announced.
"And why is that?" Nick asked him.
"Because Sammy here truly believes in good, and that it's important to do the right thing."
Sam actually blushed from the complement Dean had just bestowed on him. He wasn't used to Dean talking that way about him.
"Yeah, well it really doesn't matter anymore. That was another life time," Sam said. "This is today."
Dean knew what Sam was saying was difficult for him to actually accept, but Dean was relieved to hear that Sammy was finally accepting the fact that this was his life now and that there was no going back. It would make dealing with the future easier.
After their meal they took an elevator up and an usher led them all to their boxed seats. At this point Dean and Sam would have expected no less of the old guy. When Nick did things he liked to do them in maximum comfort and style.
The lights dimmed and the musicians came out and took their seats. Dean saw that there were tons of percussion instruments and several key boards. He wondered if that was normal for all orchestras. After a few minutes of tuning and practicing the conductor came out to great applause.
Dean watched as the lights went off completely and from somewhere fog machines had been turned on giving the stage a glowing mysterious effect. The music began and Dean had to admit that it was awesome. He had never heard Christmas music like this. This was a jam! Halfway through the show laser lights were turned on and they moved in time with the music.
Dean looked over at Sam and saw he was smiling ear to ear enjoying the show just as much as Dean was.
Finally the show concluded with a heavy rock version of what Dean thought was Carol of the Bells. He was actually tapping his toes to the music. When the last song played the place went wild. Everyone stood up and gave a standing ovation. Dean even put his fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle which earned him a nudge in the arm from Sam.
The lights came back on and everyone started exiting the building.
"That was freaking awesome," Dean exclaimed.
"I told you, you would like it," Nick replied happily. "Remember, I can read your mind. I would never drag you off to listen to Bach or Mozart. Sammy might love it but you would be cringing the entire time."
Both Dean and Sam caught the fact that Nick had call Sam Sammy but neither commented on the fact. For Sam it somehow didn't seem out of place for this person who had suddenly become a father figure to him, or at least something of a real grandfather, to use the nickname. For Dean it represented something else. Sam was bonding with this sweet old guy, hell, so was he for that matter, but that didn't change the fact that they still had to leave come tomorrow morning. Dean knew that tomorrow when it was time to say good-bye Sam was going to be crushed.