Chapter 6
Sam knew what he had to do, but he doubted his ability to do it. It was morning now; he could feel the heat of the sun pouring in from the hotel window. Where's Dean? Sam tried not to let his fear get the best of him. He forced himself to think, rationalize, and formulate a plan. On a normal day maybe, but today, now….no, think, c'mon….this is Dean, I can't leave him to die. I have to save him. He needs me. With that thought, Sam stretched out his right arm, his hand trembling as he ran it over the edge of the bed. He shifted towards the edge and extended his hand upward, waving it around to ensure that a wall wasn't waiting for him. He'd already made that mistake before. Confident that the area was safe, he swung his legs over the side of the bed—Now where's my stuff?
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A smile crept unto Dean's face as the cold water poured freely from the showerhead. He was sure that last night was one of the best nights of his entire life. At it's start all he could think about was scoring, but as the drinks started pouring and he began to let his guard down, he found himself fully enveloped in Jessie—the person. She was so open with him and her openness had driven him to say things he would never tell Sam much less to a stranger. Dean struggled to remember a time when he had been that honest or open, but it wasn't there. He'd always thought that no one really wanted to hear his ideas or views on life, he'd tried in the past, but always felt like he was shot down or ignored. Of course he would never reveal that. Everyone always thinks that Sam's the smart one—he is the college boy. Dean still wasn't sure how his little brother had ended up that smart either. Book smarts just wasn't something the Winchester men were known for. He relished the fact that he could just lay it out there with Jessie and she would just sit there and listen attentively, hanging on to every word. I can't believe a girl like that… A knock on the door halted Dean's thoughts.
"Hey, what you doing in there?" Jessie asked innocently.
"Well, I'm having trouble finding the shampoo. Maybe you'd like to help me." Dean laughed. Jessie couldn't help but laugh with him wondering how many times he'd used that line before as she opened the bathroom door.
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"Ow." Sam whimpered as he ran into the bathroom door for the third time. This isn't going to work. Sam paused and tried once again to visualize the room, not that it did any good since he had managed to hit, knock over, or break almost everything in the room which changed the position of the imposing obstacles each time he rammed into them which only confused him more. He had the good fortune of finding his "walking stick" which after much deliberation and realization that Dean was nowhere around to actually see him using it decided to give it a try. It proved beneficial, it enabled him to find the coffee table, and thus, relocate his phone which was now resting safely in his pocket. But it still wasn't enough to prevent his foot from catching on his backpack that he now clutched in his left hand, the bag's heaviness only served to make maneuvering through the room all the more difficult. But if I drop it somewhere I'll never find it again. Sam continued fumbling around the room, trying to keep hold of the stick in his right and his bag in his left. Man, I bet I look like a complete idiot. At long last the stick smacked into side of the bed.
Sam set his pack down on the bed and began fiddling with the clasp and zippers. "Yes!" he yelled, the excitement of success and renewed hope washed over him as the clasp was released. Maybe I can do this. Sam felt his way through the pack, grabbing each item he contacted, carefully placing the essentials to his right, and discarding the rest to his left. "CRAP!" Sam felt the flesh on his skin tear and subsequently dampen as his arm passed the serrated blade. Well, not much I can do about that. At least I found a suitable weapon.
After re-packing, leaving a quick voicemail for dean—making him annoyed and extremely worried at the fact that his brother didn't pick up, and a minute of reacquainting himself with the room. Stick in hand, Sam felt he was all set. If nothing else, people will probably be more likely to help me if I have it. Not that I necessarily want their help…. and with that Sam abandoned the safety and security of the tiny world he'd embraced and stepped out into a new world, once familiar, now terrifying.
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Jessie sighed as she rested on the side of the bed running the faded blue towel back and forth through her wet hair. She liked Dean, really liked him. She had played the same game with many attractive guys she had met, but none of them came close to Dean. His smile was infectious; his hazel eyes piercing, his body lean and hard, she even found his rambling rather cute—even though most of it centered on his brother. What was his name…Sam. She soon asserted that he was the reason Dean was so upset earlier, and did everything in her power to ensure that Dean didn't and wouldn't remember. Ugh, I can't believe I am letting myself fall for this guy. And he's gonna leave…well, maybe…
An unfamiliar ring floated through the air, startling Jessie. She got up quickly and ran into the direction of the sound that resonated from Dean's coat pocket. She flipped the phone open, glanced at the caller id, and promptly hit the power button relaying the call to voicemail. Sorry, Sam. Your brother's mine for at least one more today.
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Sam winced. He could feel the sun bearing into him making his head pound. He was supposed to wear sunglasses, Dean had bought him a pair. They were to be used when he went outside so he didn't add any unnecessary strain or damage to his eye muscles, at least that's what the doctor had told him. Well, I'm already using a freakin' cane to get around and its not like I could've found them anyway. A slight wind whooshed past him sending chills down his spine.
Sam still had yet to release his steel grip on the door handle. The roaring of the speeding cars echoed in his ears, they sounded close but he couldn't remember if the hotel was directly off the highway or not. He tried unsuccessfully to remember his room's location in relation to the check-in office. The one sound Sam was longing the most to hear, the sound of one single human voice was nonexistent. The hotel lot was barren. I'm alone.
Sam breaths were coming in shallow and quick, anxiety was beginning to grab hold of him, he felt his stomach sink and his mouth was beginning to water. His whole body shook with fright. "Keep your head Sam. If you can keep you mind focused and don't lose it, you can get out of anything" the words of his father flashed in his mind. I'm trying Dad, I'm trying…Sam's knees were beginning to give out on him, and he was getting light headed. "I c-can't do this" his voice but a whisper.
With lightening speed, he twisted the knob and retreated back into his haven. Tears poured freely down his face and he slid his trembling body down the door until the he met the floor. He drew his legs to his chest, brought his hands to his face, his fingers laced through his dark brown locks. Gut wrenching cries escaped his lips as he cursed the darkness.
Sammy, why didn't you help me?
"I-I'm s-sorry Dean. I'm s-sorry"
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Okay, if you guys would lemme know what you think about this chapter. It's not the best i've done, in my mind so yeah constructive criticism is always welcome. Also it's 2 in the morning here so if i screwed anything thing up majorly fill me in on that as well. Thanx for reading.