Chapter 7
Sam fought back tears as he heard his brother's words for the fifth time. Hey, you've reached Dean. Can't come to phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back as soon as I can. He let them fall freely when the shrill beep signaled for him to leave yet another message.
"D-Dean" Sam pleaded, emotion enveloping every syllable. "Please, please—pick up. I'm sorry. Really I am. Please, Dean, I-I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I had a nightmare Dean, a bad one. I need you to come back, okay?"
Beep
"Are you mad I called Dad? Is that it? 'Cause the only reason I did was 'cause I was so scared when you left, I swear. You know I wouldn't do that just to piss you off, right? I wasn't thinking, sorry I won't ever do that again—please just call me."
Beep
"Dean, c'mon. Look something bad is gonna happen. You have to trust me. I saw it….well, in my mind anyways. You have to be careful okay?"
Beep
"Hey bro—are you there? Look man, I know you're probably tired of me calling, you know, but you said an hour and it's been a lot longer than that and I-I'm getting worried 'cause that nightmare was about you so--so call me."
Beep
"Please, Dean, please."
Click
Sam rested his head against the hotel door. He's not coming back. It's my fault and now…now he's gonna die cause I couldn't just let him help me. He traced the redial button with his thumb. It didn't matter how many more times he wanted to call Dean again; he knew the outcome. Sam couldn't even imagine what he would do if he had to hear that beep one more time.
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"Was that my phone?" Dean asked, poking his head out from the bathroom door.
"Huh?" Jessie knew her reply was weak.
"My phone. It rang. You didn't hear it?"
"No, nothing rang. Don't tell me you're hearing things" Jessie teased.
"Haha. Very funny." Dean stated flatly as he stepped out into the bedroom and began the hunt for his clothes. " Are you sure it didn't ring? And what did you want to do for breakfast?"
"Yes, I'm 100 positive about your phone. Now tell me, do all men think only of food and women?"
"Uh, yeah."
"HEY" Jessie yelled mocking offense.
"What?" Dean asked, the question dripping with innocence.
"How about I go to the bakery down the street, they have the best pastries this side of Terrabone."
"I'll go with you" Dean responded quickly, moving toward the door.
"Not in those you're not!" Dean stopped, puzzled at Jessie's response until he realized he was standing in front of the door in his boxers.
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Hopelessness was setting in. Sam acknowledged the fact that he needed help, but he couldn't think of anyway he was gonna get it. He had tried screaming, hoping that the people staying in the rooms on either side would hear him through the thin walls, but judging from the lack of response, the rooms appeared to be vacant. I can't go back outside…not alone--I can't. Sam would've been content to have a maid pay him a visit, or better yet the manager. Dean usually pays by the night, so eventually the man is gonna have to come to get his money, right? The positive thoughts only provided temporary solace as the day wore on, negativity seemed better suited to his mood anyway. No one's coming for me. He racked his brain for another method, any method. Maybe there was someone else to call. Sam smirked. Well, there is somebody. Not that he would answer"
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To say that Jessie was surprised to see Dean rummaging around the room when she returned is an understatement.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my phone, what else?" Dean bit his lower lip. He was getting frustrated. He could've sworn he heard his phone ring, and he was beginning to think Jessie was just playing with him. He had turned the room upside down looking for it, to no avail. I had it with me. I know I did.
"It's a phone, Dean, not the cure for cancer. You can just get another one."
"I can't just get another one." Dean snapped as he threw the sheets off the bed. "I need to call Sam, he's all alone. I-I, O God, I left him. And he's probably freakin' out—he does that and you know what? He was probably the one who called me—yeah I'd bet anything he's sitting in the hotel losing his mind because I didn't call him back. I told him I'd be back and I… "
Jessie frowned. Great. You know, this rambling thing is getting old. Dean look at me.
But Dean didn't even throw a glance in her general direction, he was too focused on ripping apart the hotel's pillows. Jessie ran her hand over her face. Fantastic, he's battling so many emotions right now I can't latch on. I have to calm him down. Jessie made her way over to coffee table and set the breakfast bags down, throwing a glance back at Dean to make sure he was thoroughly occupied, she reached into her pocket and released his beloved phone.
"Did you check behind the coffee table?" Dean wiggled his way out from underneath the bed.
"Huh?"
"The coffee table, did you check around it?"
"I think so." Dean said quietly as he made his way over to where Jessie was standing. Relief and embarrassment washed over him as he saw his prized possession resting behind the table leg. He snatched it up quickly and began running through the missed calls and messages. Confusion etched his face as he stared at the small screen. Nothing. No new calls, no new messages. I guess Jessie was right. He brought his gaze back to Jessie and flashed her a smile. Jessie flashed one right back. I just want one more day Dean.
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Sam was shaking when he heard the deep, severe voice on the other line. "Dad?" he ventured.
"Sammy? Is that you? Boy, I thought I told you not to call me anymore. It's dangerous. I humored you on that last one, only cause you called six times in a row…."
"Dad, please." Sam interrupted, he knew he shouldn't have but he didn't have time for a lecture. "Dean's not here, he should be here by now. Dad, something's wrong."
John sighed, "You know that for a fact Sammy?" Sam flinched at the nickname, but kept on.
"Well, no, not really, but I had a nightmare and.."
"You had a nightmare." John interjected, repeating the words as if they held no value, no importance. Like he does when he thinks Dean and I are lying.
"Dad, you have to believe me. I have to help him, but…but I can't""Why not Sam?"
"Why not? Dad, I can't see. How am I supposed to help Dean if I cant see what's trying to kill him?"
"You've been through worse, Sam" John could feel his blood pressure rising. He raised his sons to be men, not boys, so why weren't they acting like 'em.
"Been through worse—been through worse…ha, how would you know?" Sam's anger now apparent in his raised voice.
John had had enough. First Dean undermines MY authority and now Sam wants to be babied.
"Sam, you listen here. A handicap isn't an excuse. You are a trained and experienced hunter. Now, be a man and get out there and help your brother. And don't call me to whine about how bad you think your life is ever again, understand! And boy…."
A pause. Sam braced himself for the second half of his father's rant, his hands were shaking and he couldn't quite get his breath.
"D-dad? You there?" the words fell out of his mouth slowly, hope intertwined. You need his help Sam. Don't piss him off anymore.
Whatever small amount of hope Sam had managed to muster was completely ravaged by the sound he heard next.
Click.