I don't own either Sam or Dean, but the story below is all mine. Hope you enjoy.
Hi guys! Once again, thanks for all your wonderful reviews. I get the impression from your responses that I cleared up everything, at least to that point, but be sure to let me know if there's anything else that doesn't make sense. Here's the next installment. Hope you enjoy, and as usual, keep reviewing.
Signs for Devil's Elbow began appearing a little more than seven hours after they had begun the drive. Feelings of apprehension began to flood Dean's mind as he experienced memories of the last time he had seen those signs; memories of the last time he had been in the town. Recalling that the reception had been far from inviting the last time, Dean closed his hand tightly around Sam's arm. "We should probably pull off somewhere for a while. Go find a restaurant or something."
Shooting Dean a curious look, Sam steered the Impala into the parking lot of the next diner they came to, but he didn't ask any questions. Dean would tell him when he was ready. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket, staring at the list of missed calls and deleting each one. He'd turned the phone on silent to avoid his parents calls, and feelings of guilt welled up inside as he realized they must be going out of their minds with worry. Looking at the time display he just about blanched, realizing that, including the trip to the library, they'd been gone for almost ten hours. They'd missed lunch, therapy, and now dinner.
As Sam was worrying about what to do about their parents, Laura had been helping Dean from the car. She'd unloaded the wheelchair from the trunk, unfolded it, and nervously watched as Dean transferred himself into the chair, unwilling to accept her help. They now waited for Sam to join them, and Dean was truly pissed off.
"Damn place doesn't even have the decency to make their entrance wheelchair accessible," Dean snapped, slamming the footrests into something at his feet. As Sam approached, he could see the two steep concrete steps that led to the door of the establishment.
"You want to move on? Go somewhere else?" the offer was genuine, but Dean took it as patronization.
"No, Sam, I don't want to go somewhere else," Dean mocked bitterly. I want to walk into this place on my own power. I want my legs back. I want my body back! He stared at the steps, willing them to disappear, but when they didn't he spun himself around, back to the steps, and looked pointedly at Sam. "So are you gonna help me get in there or are you just gonna stand around feeling sorry for me?" It killed him to say that, killed him to pretend it didn't matter that he couldn't get into the building by himself. His mask was all he had, and he held onto it with every fiber left in his being.
Every head in the place looked up and stared as Sam struggled with Dean's chair, jerking it up the two steps and into the diner. And once Dean was safely on level ground, they gaped at him as he angrily pushed past them to a booth at the back of the small building. No one even tried to hide their curiosity, because they weren't used to hiding it. It was a small town, and Dean was different. They didn't like different. Different meant gossip. So, as Sam and Laura joined him at the table the patrons began to talk, pointing and staring as if he were some kind of space alien instead of a human being.
The waitress approached them nervously, hands clutching at her order tablet. "You kids new in town?" she asked, eyes shifting nervously between Sam and Laura, but blatantly ignoring Dean.
"Just passing through," Laura chimed in, her perkiness indicating a seemingly oblivious knowledge of the tension in the air. "You guys should really think about getting a ramp instead of those steps."
"Never needed one before," the waitress replied, barely blinking at her matter of fact response. "Now what can I get you?"
She looked from Laura to Sam, writing down their orders and then nudged her head in Dean's direction, still looking at Sam. "And what'll he have?"
"He talks," Dean snapped, his face flushing as he sunk down in his chair, wishing he could disappear all-together. "He can order for himself. And he will have a cheeseburger and fries."
The waitress nodded, averting her eyes away from him, but adding his order to the tablet. It angered Dean even more to notice that she didn't even react to him calling her out on her blatant disregard to his very existence. She still seemed nervous, but not because of what Dean had said, or even how he'd said it. Her actions told him she was scared of him; as though his paralysis might be catching. She'd skirted around him, careful never to touch him or get too close, careful to never even look at him. It made Dean feel like a leper.
"Well people around here sure are friendly," he quipped, plastering a take no prisoners expression on his face in an attempt to cover his true emotions. "Just like the last time I was in this town. And we haven't even made it into creepyville, yet."
As Sam and Laura looked at him with curiosity, he began to explain, recounting his first visit to the town. The surrounding towns, like the one he and his Sam had taken cover at, had been normal, Smallville USA type towns; just not used to strangers. But Devil's Elbow itself had been like taking a jump into a time warp, landing themselves in the middle of the 1800's. Dean told them how they'd pulled into the town and found it completely deserted. He told them about being watched from behind curtains, and then having shotguns aimed at them and fired as he and Sam had hightailed it from the town. And then he told him how they'd snuck back into Devil's Elbow under the cover of darkness, hiding in the trees as they climbed the mountain to the old mine shaft where the Pathuma laid in wait.
At that point Dean stopped his story. They already knew the rest, and the turning gears in Sam's head were becoming too noticeable to ignore. "What are you thinking about?"
Sam hesitated, forming words in his head before speaking them out loud, sounding almost apologetic. "I don't want to be the one to say this, Dean," he began hesitantly. "But don't you think it's about time we address the giant white elephant that's been with us on this entire trip?"
Dean's face fell and his shoulders slumped more than they already had been. He knew what Sam was implying; the thought hadn't strayed far from his mind from the minute he'd been told in the hospital, and the feelings had just gotten stronger and stronger the closer they got to the cave. He couldn't walk. And as such, he wouldn't be able to make the stone filled trek up the side of the mountain to the mouth of the cave. It had been hard enough on Sammy, stumbling with his still barely mobile lower half, but he could at least remain upright. Dean was totally dependent on the wheelchair. And even if he did manage to get his limp ass to that mine shaft there would be no way he could fight, and he was the only one with any hunting experience.
"So what's your point, Sam?" he asked, channeling confidence, and hoping ignoring the problem longer would eventually lead to a solution.
"Dean, please..." Laura said gently, trying to be the voice of reason. "I can understand your desire to be the person you once were, but there's no way you're getting yourself up that mountain."
Looking into Laura's eyes, he spoke firmly. "This is more than just being able to walk again, and you know it. This is about going back entirely. I have to get back to my world. I have to get back to my Sam."
Tears brimmed in Laura's eyes, knowing where this conversation was going. Dean looked away, memories flooding his mind as he remembered a similar conversation with the Laura from his world. This was all too weird. So many of these conversations he'd had before, but for the Sam and Laura sitting in front of him, these were first's. He held up a hand, putting a stop to the flow of tears before they could get out of control. "Let's not do this right now, Laura," he pleaded. "We've got more important things to deal with right now."
Laura nodded, wiping the tears out of her eyes as their food was delivered, but she didn't touch it.
"So, hotshot, what do you suggest?" Sam demanded, taking a bite of his chicken sandwich. "How do we get you up that mountain?"
Dean shrugged through his own mouthful of burger, trying to look totally gung-ho about his response, but cringing inside. "I guess you'll just have to carry me."
xxxxxx
As they left the restaurant, Dean noticed the locals pulling back into their booths and away from possible contamination. That was the last straw, and while Dean gritted his teeth as Sam lowered the chair, he resigned himself to do everything within his power to leave this world and the damn wheelchair behind.
It had gotten dark while they ate, providing the shelter they required to make the trek to the mine shaft. Dean guided Sam to the same place they'd used to hide the car the last time he was here and studied the entrance to the trail. The first hundred or so yards was relatively wide and smooth, and he determined to make it as far as he could in the wheelchair before demoralizing himself by letting Sam carry him. After arming themselves with the meager weapon supply they'd managed to purchase from a pawn shop along the way, Dean pushed off to the very audible protests of Laura and Sam. But they grudgingly followed him, all three of them ignoring the feelings of unrest settling in their flip-flopping stomachs.
Dean's arms burned, pleading with him to give in and accept help, but he was still able to propel the chair forward even over the rocky, craggy ground. And until he could no longer move it, he wouldn't admit he needed help. That moment came about a quarter of the way up the trail when he hit a bed of rocks too large to allow him passage. Dean halted, panting hard through his efforts, his chest tightening as he accepted defeat. He silently cursed his immobile legs as he looked up at Sam, announcing meekly, "you're gonna have to carry me from here."
His face gave nothing away as Sam crouched down and collected the older man in his arms, throwing him over his shoulder in an army carry. Laura folded the wheelchair with the same emotionless expression that Sam held, and the three of them continued on their way, following Dean's instructions.
The entrance to the mine shaft appeared through the dark night, a gaping hole sticking out of the otherwise untouched mountainside. Motions were reversed as Laura unfolded the chair and Sam lowered Dean gently back into it. Dean's fist tightened around the barrel of the gun, fervently hoping the silver bullets he'd loaded into it would suffice, because he hadn't been able to locate the ingredients for the poison he'd filled bullets with before. Not that he would have remembered how to mix the poison anyway. The recipe had been found in his father's journal, but he didn't have that anymore.
"You guys have your weapons?" he whispered, through clenched teeth.
Sam glanced nervously at his brother, drawing the knife from his waistband and clutching his own gun in the other hand. "Do you really think this is such a good idea?" he asked anxiously. "I mean, how do you know this will even work?"
Laura reached out, fingers clenching tightly into Dean's shoulder. Without even looking at her, he could tell she was nodding in agreement with Sam. "Just trust me, guys," Dean assured them, perhaps dredging up the first true speck of confidence he'd experienced since they'd begun this excursion. "I've already faced this thing once, so I know what we're up against. It should be so simple - we just have to mix his blood with mine, and then I make a wish and its over. I'm back home. You get your Dean back. And we move on with life the way we always knew it."
There was no denying the sadness that enveloped the group as they huddled outside the cave. If the plan worked, it would be the last time they saw each other...at least the last time they saw that version of each other.
For Dean, there was pure elation. He had nothing against these versions of Sam and Laura; they'd actually been more help to him than he could have ever asked for. But there was no denying the feeling he had that his Sam was still alive, and he wanted to get back to him with every thing he had. He knew his place...and this wasn't it.
For Sam, there were mixed emotions. He would give his own life to get his own Dean back into this world and away from the terrifying situations he presumed he'd been subjected to wherever he was now. But Sam's heart still ached at the idea of having to tell his brother, again, that he'd been paralyzed in an accident. Because, whatever the boy was dealing with in the other realm, Sam was certain he was doing it with the use of his legs, and it would all come crashing down on him the minute he returned to this world.
For Laura, there was aguish. Because this was the only Dean who loved her. The other Dean, whoever he was, wouldn't know her at all, and the love she had found in these few short days would all be ripped away from her in the blink of an eye. She hadn't expected it, and God she certainly hadn't planned on falling in love with the guy in such a short amount of time. But she had. He knew her in ways most guys had taken years to learn, and he trusted her with secrets that would send the rest of the world into a tailspin. And she didn't want to lose him.
The trio stared at each other, saying with their eyes what they couldn't say with words. For almost a minute they shared the pain of emotions consuming their souls. Dean was the one to break the hold, because he was the least tied to this world. "Guys, lets go." He pushed off again, noticing the same blood stained indentations in the grass that he'd seen the last time. They'd been created by victims bodies, laying there for hours, and sometimes days, before being found by the townfolk.
Shoving hard against the wheels, Dean prayed he would have enough strength to take the creature down on the first try. He wasn't sure he could protect his companions if the situation demanded it, and that scared him more than the Pathuma itself did. They entered, Laura shining the beam of her flashlight against the walls of the cave, swishing it back and forth to ensure she covered every inch of the mineshaft. Dean looked to the back of the space and to the right, remembering that that was where the thing had come from before, and like before the silence was quickly broken by the low growl of the beast they'd come to hunt.
Eyes glowed viciously at the three intruders, dancing from body to body as it decided which one to go after first. Dean cocked his gun as he noted the trembling forms of Sam and Laura on either side of him. "Just stay quiet," he hissed, moving forward and planting himself protectively in front of the two. He took aim, instinct telling him where the chest cavity should be and firing directly at it. The creature went down all too easily, filling the cave with one last agonizing shriek before going silent.
Dean shoved forward, approaching the creature with no hesitation, and leering over it. "I'm going home," he sneered, grinning victoriously at the demon he'd bested so quickly. Sam had followed behind him, and Dean now held out his hand, demanding the knife the boy held. Gripping it in his right hand, Dean pressed the tip into the opposite arm, drawing a two inch line along his arm, procuring a decent supply of blood. He lowered himself from the chair to the ground, knowing it would be easier to reach the creature's own blood from that angle. He shoved against the still form of the beast, angling it just right and then joined his arm with the Pathuma's chest, mixing their blood. He made his wish, issuing his desires both mentally and verbally and waited for the reaction to occur.