Don't own supernatural, Don't own the Winchester boys, everything else is mine - blah, blah, blah.
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Exactly what Dean was saying was enough to pique Sam's curiosity, get him sitting higher and lean in closer to his brother's face in an effort to hear the words more clearly. So the how in Dean's tone was more than Sam could handle. Because, as Dean muttered the incomprehensible's that made absolutely no sense to poor, confused Sam, he was smiling.
The smile was warm, light; the kind of smile that fell only on the faces of people who had experienced pure happiness. The kind of smile that Sam had never once seen cross Dean's face. And if what Dean was saying was any indication, Sam knew why he was so happy. He'd seen their mother. But how? When?
Dean was lost in reverie, unknowingly reliving his time in the other universe to a very attentive Sam, unknowingly giving away enough of his secret to allow Sam to form questions that would demand answers when Dean finally woke up.
Mom, this food smells incredible...of course, I'll have some more coffee cake...I have friends...the basketball game was amazing, better than I could have imagined...You and Dad did a terrific job with my car. Thanks for taking such great care of her...I have a degree? From a university? Wow...
There was more, of course. For the better part of a day Sam listened to Dean mumble and mutter about his time in the other world, still unaware of where the memories - if that's what they were- came from. Dean spoke as though these things had just recently happened. But that just wasn't possible. He'd been with Dean for the past year; not to mention the fact that their mother was most definitely not alive. So it must be just his imagination. Did Dean truly have such a vivid imagination that he could conjure up images and memories of his mother that had never actually happened? Did he wish so much for a happy family life that he was able to imagine their father as a gentle, jovial soul? And how, when Dean had no idea even how to find ESPN on the TV, did he seem to be so excited about going to a basketball game...with friends Sam had never even known existed? They all had names; first and last names.
He didn't know exactly what made him question the words; what made him believe that they were more than simple hallucinations fueled from Dean's unspoken inner turmoil. He didn't even know what fed his own perplexed mind enough of a theory to run with it. But somewhere around the sixth hour of Dean's unconscious rambling Sam got a crazy idea. Running to the car as fast as his weak legs would carry him, Sam grabbed the laptop and immediately plugged it into the phone line before he'd even powered up the machine.
The internet connection in the small town was desperately slow, and Sam quickly found himself losing patience as he waited for his search to turn up the answers he sought. Even the continued stream of words softly spouting from Dean's mouth did little to subdue Sam's anxiety until finally the screen popped up in front of his face. Sam's eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped as he read the information provided him.
Of course, he expected the names he'd plugged in to show hits. Luke Mason, Collin O'Dell, Stephen Hanson...Sam typed those, and the many other names Dean had listed throughout that hour, wondering how he had been so fortunate to have Dean yield both first and last names. In some unconscious way, Sam figured Dean had actually wanted him to wonder, but no matter what the reason, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. They weren't unusual names, and his search had actually come up with thousands of hits, many of them leading nowhere. But one particular result had Sam staring in utter amazement. Three of the eight names Sam had entered in the search engine appeared together, oddly linked to another name he knew so well. The name of their hometown: Lawrence, Kansas.
Sam gawked, clicking on the result and reading further. Luke, Stephen, Gregory; the names had come up in a birth certificate search, promptly displaying the dates of their births and city they were born in. All three had been born in Lawrence. All three had been born within the same year as Dean. The residence listed for Luke was even less than a block from their old house.
Further research on the three provided Sam with the knowledge that they had all gone to the same grade school, middle school and high school; again, the same schools he and Dean would have attended had they remained in their town, had their mother not died. They probably would have been friends, Sam thought to himself as he read further down the list of seemingly coincidental facts.
Every one of the eight names Sam entered had resulted in the same finding for college. University of Kansas; they were all graduates. He stared at the screen for several hours, running countless searches as he tried to find any possibility of connection between Dean and the hints he voiced in his muttering. Little by little, Sam was beginning to put two and two together, but the largest hole of them all still gaped ominously at him from the confines of his mind. Ok, so these people really do exist. And Dean very well could have gone to school with them. But he didn't. Because we moved before that was a viable option. So how does he know them? And why does he believe he graduated college with them? What the hell is going on here?
"Dammit Dean, wake up!" Sam voiced, frustrated beyond belief. There was so much he needed to know. So many unanswered questions filling his curious mind as it worked over time to fill in the blanks without help.
But Dean continued to sleep. And he continued to mumble, at this point only planting more unanswered questions in Sam's racing mind. Sam busied himself with cleaning their wounds again, pressing just a little harder than normal against Dean's gashes in hope that the man might wake up to the pain. It didn't work. And Sam had to escape.
Determining that Dean would be fine for a few minutes, Sam grabbed the car keys and sprinted from the room, his mind set on feeding his growling stomach. Despite his need to get away from Dean and the confusion he was causing in his unconscious stupor, Sam still couldn't allow himself to stay away from Dean for too long, and he turned off at the nearest diner, quickly ordering two sandwiches, and then sped back to the motel.
Dean hadn't moved, and he was still writhing on the bed, muttering about the world Sam didn't understand. And Sam retreated back outside, cracking the door just enough to hear if Dean needed him, but not enough to hear the hushed words. Sitting on the sidewalk outside their room, he ate his sandwich in silence, but not in peace. His mind raced, attempting to formulate possibility after possibility, none of them coming close to being accurate.
A muffled yelp broke Sam from his thoughts several minutes after he finished the sandwich, and Sam jumped to his feet, rushing to Dean's side. Hovering over the bed, Sam could see that Dean's eyes were now open, and clouded in pain. And the muttering had stopped; in fact, all noise had ceased to come from his brother's mouth, including more whimpers of pain. That first yelp was all Dean would allow out of his battered body, and he now put every effort into maintaining an air of determination. He refused to admit he was in pain.
"How do you feel?" Sam asked anxiously, his strong hand pushing against Dean's chest as he attempted, far to early, to sit up.
"Like some jerk is pressing against my rib cage," Dean muttered, irritated at Sam's instantaneous mother-henning. "Dude, let me up."
Sam backed off physically, but continued to protest verbally. "Dean, you left most of your blood on the mountainside last night. You need to take things slow."
"Dammit Sam, just help me sit the fuck up."
Sighing audibly, Sam reached forward and helped Dean to sit up, knowing only that if he didn't help, Dean would just do it on his own, and probably end up with a face full of carpet. "Are you hungry?" he asked instead.
Dean shrugged, eying the white bag as though it might bite. "What's in there?" he asked, hesitantly.
"BLT," Sam replied. "Not your favorite, but it keeps. I didn't know when you'd be waking up."
Reaching out a shaky hand, Dean motioned for the bag. "Give it here. It's better than nothing."
For several minutes they sat in complete silence as Dean chewed on his sandwich and Sam debated on the best way to bring up the desired, and yet all too shaky, subject matter. It was actually Dean who inadvertently brought it up, and if he'd known where it would lead he would have been sure to steer the conversation to an entirely different direction. "What were you looking for?" Dean asked, nodding in the direction of the still open laptop now flashing the outer space screen saver.
Sam looked up, startled at the break in silence, and eyed the computer. His hand reached out quickly and slammed it shut as he stammered. "It was just something that I...uh..." Sam hesitated, mentally berating himself for immediately trying to cover up his sleuthing. Dammit Sam, just ask. You know you want to know, and this is the best chance you'll ever get.
He sighed, running his hands nervously through his long hair as he searched Dean for the answer without ever needing to ask to question. But it wasn't there, so he forced the words from his lips before he allowed himself to chicken out. "Dean, when you were unconscious you were...you were muttering stuff about Mom, and family...having friends. And Dean, I know I shouldn't have, but I looked up some of the names, and they were real people. People you possibly could have known if life had been different for us..." Sam's words had sped up the closer he got to the end, and he stopped abruptly when he noticed the terrified expression plaster itself on his brother's face.
Dean shook his head firmly, glaring at Sam, his expression saying 'how dare you invade my private thoughts. You had no right.' If he could have, Sam was certain that Dean would have stormed from the room. But he could barely keep himself upright against the headboard of the lumpy motel bed, let alone drag himself from the room in a fit of rage. But Sam persisted.
"I know something's going on, Dean. I have absolutely no idea what, but you sure as hell sounded convinced of what you were saying."
"We're not talking about this, Sam," Dean practically growled, wishing his body would convey the same stoicism his words did. But he was far too weak to fight his body for control of the anger image.
Dean cringed as he noted the puppy dog gaze, perfected from years of use, fall across Sam's face, and he knew he was defeated before the boy even voiced his plea. "Please, Dean. If there's something about Mom I should know, I want you to tell me. You have to tell me."
Looking at his hands, his feet, the comforter, anywhere but at Sam, Dean collected his thoughts. "Something happened...back there in the caves..." he began hesitantly.
When Sam dropped his hands to his sides and looked at his brother with wide eyed expectation, Dean knew it would be alright. And he spilled it all. For the next hour or more Dean went into intimate detail of his time in the other universe, stopping only to take necessary breaths. Sam focused his full attention on Dean's revelations, barely blinking, never flinching as Dean recounted thoughts and occurrences that only Sam would ever be able to accept as, not only possible, but normal.
When he finished, Dean let down his guard for a few seconds longer and allowed himself to join in tight embrace with his brother. Together they mourned; Dean for what he'd had, twice, and lost twice. And Sam, for what he had never had. Family. Or at least normal family. He and Sam were more family than any two point five kids with a white picket fence could ever be, but it still hurt to know the normal life they could have had.
"There's just one thing I don't understand," Dean admitted when he and Sam had finally released their hold on one another, and he looked down at his hands nervously. "When I woke up in that world, I was paralyzed, permanently. But that world was supposedly a fabrication of your wish at the hands of the Pathuma. I know you don't remember any of this, but do you have any thoughts on what you might have wished for that would put me in that situation. Were you mad at me or something? Did you want me to experience what you did?"
The question made Sam freeze momentarily, and he looked at Dean with apprehension clearly written across his face. But he quickly wiped the expression away, causing it to fade to nothingness. "Dean, I don't know what I could have wished for that would have put you in a wheelchair." Tears formed in the younger boys eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. "I would never knowingly wish that for you. I've been there; and I would never wish it on my worst enemy. If that happened because of me, I'm so sorry. But you have to believe me that I would never put you through that if I had any control over it."
Nodding firmly, Dean reassured Sam that he believed him. "I know you wouldn't Sam," Dean admitted. "I'm sorry I asked." His eyes drooped as he spoke, and Sam didn't miss the yawn Dean tried to stifle.
"Maybe we should both try and get some sleep," Sam encouraged. "You need to rest up, and I didn't get much sleep last night either."
Dean barely had the energy to acknowledge the suggestion as his eyelids flitted shut and he fell back into a deep slumber. And Sam crawled into his own bed, pulling the covers over his shoulders. But sleep wouldn't claim him nearly as easily as it did Dean. The mystery was solved, but Sam was left with a whole new set of worries. Because he'd lied to Dean when he told him that he didn't know what he would have wished for him. There was no doubt in his mind that his wish, as he lay dying at the hands of the Pathuma, was the same one he'd wished for Dean all his life. He'd always thought it completely innocent. He'd always thought it to be a wish made in love. But that wish, despite the surrounding happiness that accompanied it, had put his brother in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He rolled over in the bed, staring sadly at Dean for several minutes, because now he didn't know what to wish for him.
He'd always wished for his brother to have the life he should have had. He'd wished for him to have the life he would have had if their mother had lived.
Hi guys! Ok, so I've gotten several requests for some insight into the other Dean's experiences. I haven't quite decided how I want to address that, seeing as how he shouldn't remember anything that happened, but I will come up with something and post it in an epilogue as soon as I decide on the best way. Otherwise, I'm glad you enjoyed the story, and keep on the lookout for new stuff. I've already got something brewing. Thanks so much for all the support - you guys make it all worthwhile.