Chapter Six – Promise

Dean was beginning to wonder if he would be able to endure all twelve of Joshua's injections. He was thankful the shots had relieved the severity of his symptoms, yet each subsequent injection caused him more pain than the last, and Joshua was constantly apologizing for not being able to find an inch on his abdomen that wasn't already black and bruised from either an earlier injection or the rip of the creature's claw.

Still, even with the lessening of his symptoms, he knew he was a long way from cured. Joshua had relented and secretly told him under severe distress the details of the last victim he had treated. The poor soul took all twelve shots and still turned, Joshua failing to complete his cure once more. Joshua assured him this time would be different. Yeah, right!

As he braced for his eighth injection, Dean cursed this treatment, still he knew it was his only hope of surviving. Sam stood by his side and took his hand in a tight grip trying with all his might to pass on any strength and courage he had to his suffering brother. Dean winced as the huge needle slowly started into his tender muscles and tears formed in his pained eyes as his agony started once more.

Joshua released the hot, burning fluid and his grip on his brother's hand tightened as the fire burned in his gut, then Joshua slowly, painfully, extracted the slicing instrument of his torture.

"Dean, hold on. It'll be over soon." Sam tried his best to relieve the tension in the room and comfort his brother.

Dean just grimaced, not willing to inform the kid that his pain would last a good deal longer than Sam ever knew. He tried to shield his brother as much as possible from the full extent of his suffering. After all, what good would it do for Sam to know? After a few minutes of intense pain, the feelings dissipated to the point where he could once again manage to speak.

"Sam would ya let go of my hand? You wanna go steady or something?" Dean cracked with a forced smile.

"You alright?" Sam asked with deep concern in his voice and eyes.

"Never better."

Sam released his brother's hand but still stood by his bedside, not knowing what else he could possibly do to help him through this ordeal, yet knowing he couldn't bear to leave him alone.

Joshua patted Dean on his good shoulder and told him to rest. He'd be back in a while to check on him and then he left the brothers alone.

"Sam, I probably don't have any right to ask you this, but…." Dean started and then hesitated.

"Dean, you can ask me anything. What can I do for you?" Sam pleaded.

Big mistake Sammy. Don't ever offer up something until you know what it is, cause I can tell you right now, you're not gonna like it.

Dean just smiled at his kid brother, a sad, resigned smile. As aggravating as Sam's constant questions and bickering with Dad were, he was his only brother and he loved him more than life itself and couldn't bear the thought of leaving him at this point in his life. Sam thought he was all grown, but Dean knew better.

Sam had been sheltered his entire life, protected by his brother and dad. Oh, Sam would never admit it, perhaps he truly didn't even realize it, but Dean knew. He knew that regardless of the worldly knowledge Sam possessed from living a life battling evil, in reality he was still an innocent.

As much as Sam had seen and knew to be true, he still didn't believe in his true destiny. He stubbornly maintained a child's response to the evil in the world; if he just ignored it, he believed he could live a normal life.

Sam's refusal to accept his fate was his Achilles' heel, his great weakness. He was not as smart as he thought he was. Dean knew how much he still had to learn and experience, especially if he went off on his own, out in that big, bad world that existed beyond his brother's protective reach.

But that was the problem, if Dean didn't survive this bitch, then who would teach Sammy the last lessons he still needed to learn? Who would protect him from danger? Who would give their life and very existence to insure Sammy lived safe and unharmed? There was only one possible person and that was Dad, yet he knew Dad would be suffering himself and might not be capable of fulfilling that function.

Dean really didn't know what his death would do to the people he loved, the ones who loved him, but he remembered how his dad fell apart when his mom died. He remembered how he had to pick up the slack and take care of Sammy, and how he even had to take care of his dad. He remembered the overwhelming pain his dad seemed buried within, and how just existing had taxed him to the point where there was a time Dean wondered if they would all just collapse from the pressure of it all.

Somehow, they had managed to survive, but the cumulative effect of this second tragedy might just be the straw that breaks that damn camel's back. As bad as this dying was, to think it would not only end his life, but also end his family's existence, tore at his heart and plunged him into even deeper despair, as if that were possible.

"Sam, just listen to what I have to say. First off, I'm not planning on dying. I'm planning on being around for a very long time just to kick your ass when you screw up."

Sam smiled at the thought of his shorter brother trying.

"I want you to promise me something." Dean continued.

"Anything Dean, I told you that." Sam earnestly responded again.

"If I die, I want you to put off going to school for a time, a year or at least a semester. I want you to stay with Dad at least that long. Will you do that Sammy? Will you do that for me?" Dean pleaded.

"Dean, you're not going to die. I don't want to talk about this. It's not going to happen." Sam angrily replied.

"Sam, we need to face this. It could happen."

"No Dean. It's not going to happen. I can't talk about this!"

"Look Sam. I don't want to have this conversation either. I don't want to be getting these fucking shots. I don't want to think about dying at twenty-two, but you know what? If you wanna be an adult then you're gonna have to think about things you don't want to, cause that's what happens when you face the real world."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted them. He was trying so hard to stay cool and not show his fear, and there it was exposed to his kid brother in the worst possible manner, when he had only been trying to arrange a solution to this problem.

"Oh God, this is all my fault. If I hadn't been arguing with you this never would have happened." Sam started in, but his brother refused to let him finish, cutting off his comments with a curt reply.

"Sam, stop it. This isn't your fault. Do you hear me? Look we do a dangerous job and sometimes bad things happen. It's no one's fault. It just happened. Now you listen to me. This wasn't your fault or Dad's fault. It's that damn creature's fault and that's the end of it." Dean reached out and grabbed his brother's arm refusing to let him walk away to wallow in his perceived guilt.

"I didn't mean it." Sam cried as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What? Didn't mean what?"

"What I said, I didn't mean it."

"Sam, I'm not psychic, what the hell are you talking about?" Dean softly asked.

"Back at the house, I….I was just worried about you ….about this job. I just wanted you to stop. This is all my fault."

"Oh….." A look of realization passed over Dean's face as his brother's words from that night came back to him. In the same soothing tone he had used every time Sammy awoke from a nightmare and crawled into bed with his big brother for the comfort he could find nowhere else, Dean continued. "Sam, they were just words…You didn't make this happen. Come on now. You know that, right? I know you didn't mean it…. I know."

"But I said it Dean…. I said… you'd be dead before your thirty and now look…."

"Hey, look at the bright side, kiddo. You gave me another eight years. I could sure use them about now." Dean tried to joke.

Sam smiled in spite of himself. How do you do that, Dean? How do you always know what to say to make it better? Sam wiped the tears from his cheeks and stood quietly shaking as he listened to his brother, his protector, his best friend who only five days before he had tried to destroy with his selfish desire to escape this life of theirs.

"Sam, you OK?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam replied, his lips quivering as he tried to put on a brave face for his brother, tears filling his anguished eyes betraying his impending collapse.

Dean patted his arm and released his grip on his brother before continuing with his request.

"Sam I know you don't want this hunting life, a part of me has always known it. I understand you wanting to find your own way, I do, but Dad's gonna need you more than you know and I think you're gonna need him. I just need to know you'll be there for each other if the worst happens, OK?"

"But Dean, you can't die. Please don't die." Sam's lips were quivering again, his mind once more going to a place he knew he couldn't face. Here it is my worst nightmare. Why God? Why are you doing this? Why Dean?

"Sammy, this is just in case, you know? Just covering all the bases. I know Joshua is going to cure this, we all gotta believe that, OK?"

"All right Dean. You know Dad and I would probably kill each other if we didn't have you to break us up."

"Yeah, I know. That's me alright, Dean Winchester, peace broker. Think the United Nations has a spot for me?"

"They'd be lucky to get you. But what would we do without you?"

"Let's hope you never have to find out…. But Sammy…, I have your word, right? I just need to know that if it does happen, you'll be there for Dad."

"All right, but it's not gonna happen. You're too tough to die." Sam appeared stronger, more determined.

"Hell, I am one ornery bastard, ain't I?" Dean joked.