Chapter 2: I Need You

Sam grunted from the effort of walking. He was using balance bars to help him but, with his one arm in a cast that bent at the elbow, the task was made more difficult. He took several more steps.

"That's good," said Eric, his physical therapist. "A few more steps to go and you'll be at the end." Eric was a large black man who initially looked pretty intimidating with all those muscles and his bald head, but Sam soon found that the man was a giant teddy bear.

"Don't worry, I can make it," Sam insisted.

Eric smiled and shook his head. "I don't doubt that for a minute. I can see by the look on your face you're too stubborn not to."

"Man, you got that right," Dean laughed. He was a few feet over working with Tom, his own therapist, on getting full mobility of his chest and upper body back.

Sam had thought that he was here to practice walking like himself but it turned out that some of the scar tissue inside of Dean was causing him to be stiff. Dean had got his new cast this morning and after his upper body workout then he would start walking around.

"You're calling me stubborn," Sam laughed and raised his eyebrow. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black."

"Yeah, yeah, just keep walking over there," Dean laughed. Dean set the weight down and asked Tom for a heavier one.

"Not yet," Tom said. "You're here for mobility, not to look like Sylvester Stallone."

Therapy went on for another forty-five minutes and by the time Eric and Tom were finished with the brothers they were beat. Both gratefully climbed back into their wheel chairs and let the therapists roll them back to their room.

Once back in bed Sam groaned. "How can I be this sore for only an hour of walking and lifting a few hand held weights?"

"Stop whining. I've been doing this every day for over a week now, but I can feel a difference."

"Hey boys," John called as he entered the room. He was surprised to see both of them soaked in sweat. "What happened?"

"PT," Dean explained. "What are you doing here so early?"

"It's my lunch hour," John said, "and I figured I would spend it with my boys. Chuck even said I could have an extra fifteen minutes."

"So you like your boss?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he's an okay guy." John pulled the chair over and opened up several take out bags. "Dean I got you a hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. Sam, I know you are on soft solids so all I got you was mashed potatoes and gravy and a piece of banana cream pie."

"Thanks, Dad," Sam said, touched that his father was making such an effort.

"Didn't they have any chili fries or something with more grease?" Dean asked.

"If you don't like it you can always eat the lunch the hospital gives you," John replied.

"No, this is okay," Dean relented.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the three tucked into their food. Finally John wiped at his mouth with a napkin and asked, "So how did PT go?"

"Good," answered Dean. "I've pretty much got full mobility of my arms back. I'm still a little stiff in the morning but it doesn't take too long to limber back up."

"What about you, Sam?"

"It was tough. I didn't expect my legs to be so wobbly just from being in bed but Eric said I did good for my first day."

"Well, how are my two patients today?" Dr. Roberts asked cheerily as he entered the room.

"Good," Sam and Dean mumbled.

Dr. Roberts looked over their charts and then took Dean's pulse and listened to his heart and lungs. Next he checked the wounds on Dean's chest to see how they were healing up.

Dean saw Sam's eyes go wide. It was the first glimpse he was getting of Dean's chest since after that horrible night. Thank God Sammy hadn't been able to see what Dean looked like when he first arrived at the hospital. Sammy's coma may have been a bit of a blessing as it allowed him to avoid the carnage and then pain of the wounds as they began to heal and itch and even the horrible bruises that had covered every part of both their bodies.

"I must say young man that you are healing remarkably well," Dr. Roberts told Dean.

Dean just smiled and shook his head. Next Dr. Roberts moved over to Sam's bed and repeated the process all over. He thoroughly checked with wounds on the side of Sam's head and felt along his nose.

"You're lucky. Your nose healed nicely. There won't be any need for cosmetic surgery."

"My nose?" Sam asked.

"Yes, didn't you know? It was broken."

"No."

"Well, it's healing fine. I heard PT went well today. I think you can go home on Friday."

"I'm out of here tomorrow, right doc?" Dean asked.

"Actually, may I speak with you a minute," John interrupted. "Alone?"

"Certainly, Mr. Chester."

Dean and Sam cast each other a 'what now?' look as they watched their father step into the hallway with Dr. Roberts.

"Listen, doctor, I need to ask a favor. I know this probably isn't normal, but can you keep Dean here till Friday too?"

"Your son really doesn't need to be here two more days. He's doing really well."

"I know, but you see, I'm working and there would be no one home to help him out and then Sam will be here alone. I'm sure you've noticed that those two are very close. I'd just like to keep them together till Friday and then I'll make arrangements to miss work Friday and I'll be home with the boys for the three day weekend to help them get adjusted to the new house and things."

Dr. Roberts seemed to think things over for a moment and then finally shook his head yes. "I guess it really isn't a problem. I'll simply write on Dean's chart that more PT is needed and that I want him here for observation."

"Thank you," John said. "I appreciate this. I just want what's best for them."

"I understand. I'm a father too."

Dr. Roberts gave John a firm pat on the shoulder and then walked off to check on his next patient.

John entered the room to see both his sons looking at him expectantly.

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"I just talked with your doctor and we agreed that you and Sam will both go home on Friday."

"What? Why? I was supposed to be discharged tomorrow. Come on Dad, I've been here for three weeks. I'm fine."

"It will be easier. I can get off work Friday and then take you both home. If you leave tomorrow then you will be home alone for two days with no one to help you if you need it."

"Dad, I don't need help. I've got a walking cast. This is stupid."

"Dad," Sam spoke up, "I know what you're thinking and really, Dean can go. I'll be fine here by myself till Friday. I don't need Dean to baby sit me."

"Sammy, just trust me on this."

"It's not fair to Dean."

"It's okay," Dean suddenly said. "I'll stay."

Sam dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Dean, you don't have to stay here. I can take care of myself. There is an entire hospital full of people here to take care of me."

"I know you can take care of yourself, but with the car busted up I can't come visit you at the hospital and truthfully, what am I going to do all day if I don't have you to bug?"

"I don't want to be some damn burden," Sam grumbled.

"You're not. Never have been," Dean said. "I'd just rather be here watching TV and playing cards with you than home by myself while Dad is working."

Sam hated when Dad and Dean treated him like he was made out glass, but one look at their faces and he knew the decision had been made. He might have been able to talk Dean into leaving, but he would never change Dad's mind, and with Dad encouraging Dean to stay as well, well, it really didn't matter what Sam wanted.

"Fine, stay." Sam shrugged.

John grinned happily, savoring this moment of success. His boys were safe. They'd watch each other's back.

"I hate to leave so fast but I have to get back. I'll come back after work."

"Bye," they both mumbled, neither sounding very enthusiastic since Dean was disappointed and Sam was just angry.

John crumpled up the empty food sacks and containers and placed them in the trash before heading out with a wave. He knew both of his kids were upset with him but this was a decision he made to protect them. Yeah, he had said that before, but honestly, there was nothing selfish behind this one except to keep them safe. He still didn't know if the protection on the house was truly effective against the thing that hunted them, and he didn't want Sam alone and vulnerable in the hospital. No, he was right to keep them together, even if it did upset them.

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An hour later and Sam was still sulking as he pretended to look at the seven inch television screen in front of him. He could see Dean looking at him every now and then but so far he had ignored him.

"Sam, come on. It's really not that big of a deal. So I'll stay here an extra two days."

"That's not the point," Sam replied.

"Then what is the point?" Dean asked, almost wishing he could take the question back as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"The point is I am not a small child anymore. I don't need a baby sitter. You shouldn't have to be stuck here with me just because Dad is convinced I'm useless."

"Whoa, Dad does not think you are useless," Dean protested. "Maybe you aren't a child anymore but just last night after you fell asleep Dad reminded me that we are both his children. He's scared Sammy. The crash was a big wake up call for him. Wejust aboutdied that night and he was almost left all alone. It's natural that he's going to be a little more protective than usual, especially when it comes to you."

"What does that mean?" Sam demanded.

"It means that thing is after you! Remember…the demon…the one with a plan…a plan that involves you some how some way. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Dad doesn't love me more than you," Sam suddenly announced.

Dean looked confused. "What?"

"That night, what the demon said. Dad doesn't love me more than you. Hell, most of my life I wasn't even sure if he loved me at all. You've always been his favorite. You always listened to him. You always got the second cookie."

Dean just shook his head. "That's what this is about? About the lies the demon said?"

"I…it…shit. Dean, I do need you. I saw the look on your face that night when it said that Dad and I didn't need you. It wasn't true. My entire life you have been there." Sam was on a roll now and the words tumbled quickly out of his mouth. "No matter what was happening or where we were you have been there to take care of me, save me. I would have been dead before the age of ten if it hadn't have been for you. When I thought Dad hated me what got me through was you. This past year I never would have made it if not for you. Even when we had that damn fight and I walked off I couldn't stop thinking about you. What were you doing? What was happening? Were you safe? As much as I wanted to go to California I couldn't. I stole a car and came back...to you."

"Sam, I get it, you love me. You're grateful for the things I've done, but face it, you don't really need me. When this is over, really and truly over, you are leaving again…and…and that's okay. I want you to have the life you've always dreamed of having. I want you to finish school, get a law degree, maybe marry Sarah and just be happy."

"I do want that, Dean, but the part you leave out is that I want you and Cassie living in the house right next door to us. I want our kids to grow up playing together driving their cranky Grandpa John crazy."

Dean laughed. "It's a nice dream Sam, but I don't see it happening. For one, Cassie is moving on without me. For another, I don't even know if I could live the life you are describing. I can honestly see myself packing my bags and sneaking off in the middle of the night after realizing I've made a huge mistake."

"You won't know if you never try," Sam said softly. "I know there will always be something to hunt, people to save, but we've already given twenty-two years to it. We can't save the world. We can't rid the world of evil all by ourselves."

Dean looked at him sadly. "Maybe not, but I know I have to try."

"Why?" Sam asked. "Are you so willing to fight evil that you'll sacrifice yourself in the process? You are going to get yourself killed for this cause and I'm going to be left alone to bury you?"

Dean looked momentarily shocked as Sam threw his words back in his face. "This is different. I don't have a death wish."

"Neither do I," Sam said. "Yet you seem to think that my life is so much more important than yours. Why? Because I'm the youngest? Because you carried me out of a burning house? Because I'm psychic boy? Dean, I don't want to lose you any more than you want to lose me. I can't lose you. Hell, I made a deal with the devil to save you once already, killing an innocent man in the process."

"You didn't know about the reaper," Dean defended.

"Dean…even if I had known…I…I wouldn't have changed a thing. I still would have taken you to that faith healer. You aren't the only one willing to do anything to save the ones you love."

"I don't believe that, Sammy. I know you. You have this strong sense of right and wrong, of life and death. You never would have knowingly let a reaper kill an innocent person to save me."

"Dean, I'm not that innocent, naive, teenager I used to be. You really need to stop seeing me as Sammy and as Sam. This past year I learned several things. One, that I really do need you, and second, that I have a dark side. If I'm not careful I really will end up just like Dad, and I'm not saying that as a put down, believe me, but I'm afraid. I don't want to turn off my emotions. I don't want to shut out the living to focus solely on the dead. I don't want my life to be consumed with revenge. So you see I really do need you. I need you to remind me who I really am from time to time. I need you to remind me that living is more important than dying. I need you to remind me that love is more important than revenge."

Dean was clearly holding back tears and Sam had stopped trying and was now wiping the wetness off of his cheeks.

"Wow," Dean said and cleared his throat of the lump that had formed there. "I never realized just how fucking needy you were."

Sam coughed and then laughed. Once again Dean was a master with the words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you can probably sneak out of here and ditch my pathetic ass after I fall asleep if you're suddenly thinking I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"Naw, I wouldn't think of it." Dean said with a smirk. "Besides, I've got no wheels so I wouldn't get very far."

Sam smiled. "Especially in a cast."

"Yeah, that too. Face it, you're stuck with me," Dean said.

"Same here."

"Well, now that that is all settled, are you ready to stop sulking or am I going to have to come over there and kick your ass?" Dean asked.

"You're welcome to come over here but I'd rather play cards than have an ass kicking contest. My ass is about the only part of me that doesn't hurt right now from PT."

"Deal. Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"We're cool now, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, everything is on the table. There's no need for anymore late night confessions or apologies or thank yous. We know exactly how each other feels and where we stand."

"Yeah, we're good," Sam nodded.