Hell of a lot Thanks to my nice beta "2cool4noSchool" for proofreading ;)

Also THANK YOU to my followers, favorites & most of all reviewers :)

REVIEWS ARE LOVE (may eben better than bananas)


Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 18 ~ Whispers In The Dark

Dean gasped.

The sheer overwhelming flood of foreign emotions washed over him like a tsunami. The mixture of feelings remained somehow calming, though. Knowing that Sam was coming back to him, that he was about to wake up before he even physically did, was so many things, but none of them felt bad to Dean.

At least not right now.

Only when he really started to feel, when he let his mate's emotions take him in and surround him, he noticed that it wasn't all that good. He felt the omega's distress, the confusion, the inner fight against waking up and opening his eyes.

"Sammy," he whispered, as he sat up and closed the gap between their beds. His hands were on the omega's face in an instant, cupping it. "Open your eyes," Dean's voice was sleep-rough. "Please. Sam."

It felt like fighting, a desperate battle deep down the omega's soul. He felt raw and exposed and hurt. And then there was something so much darker behind all this.

Dean felt it.

A core, deep down in Sam's soul, a place he wasn't sure that the omega knew about. It was just a glimpse of something, Dean couldn't exactly tell what, but it was there.

Samuel T. Harvelle's eyes moved furiously behind his lids and his heart rate sped up. The omega gasped and then took a deep inhale. Ever so slowly, small slits of hazel-green appeared and long lashes blinked in Dean's direction.

Sam looked exhausted, which wasn't that surprising, and slightly panicked. If it weren't for the fact that the omega had just woken up after surgery, he would have freaked out more. If he'd been able to move at all, he would have tried to get off of the bed and somewhere darker, where he'd be able to hide.

"It's fine, Sam," Dean whispered soothingly. "It's fine. You're safe. I'm with you, baby boy. I'm here." He leaned in close, shielding the younger man with his body. "Shush. Try to relax."

Sam blinked; a tiny bit of eyes were visible and Dean could see what the omega was feeling. He was scared, afraid. He didn't know where he was. He had no clue what had happened, or what was about to happen to him.

"It's safe." Dean reached for the blanket and pulled it up. He then reached for one of Sam's hands and pushed the soft fabric into it, making him hold it. "It's safe. Don't be scared. Please. Don't be. I'm here."

Finally, Sam seemed to catch onto Dean's tender words, or rather the alpha's calming scent and his heart rate started to return to normal again.

Sam reached for the oxygen mask covering his face, but the alpha stopped him. "No. Leave it," he said and caught his hand, guiding it down to the blanket. "See? We brought the blanket with us." Dean placed his hand back on Sam's cheek, caressing it.

Sam's shaky fingers nestled in the cozy fabric. His lips moved, but no sound came over them.

"Are you hurtin'?" he asked with a frown. Even though Sam was his mate and they already had some sort of bond, it didn't mean that he was a mind reader.

Sam didn't seem to understand. He only blinked, his mouth and the muscles in his throat working as if he wanted to say something.

"Sammy," he hummed. "You gotta tell me what's wrong."

The words hadn't even left his mouth, when he frowned at Sam and pursed his lips. He then looked at the bed and saw how much space was left on it and he pursed his lips some more.

Without another word, Dean moved around the bed and set up the bed rail. He carefully pulled Sam with the sheet he was lying on towards the rail and then walked back around to climb into it on the other side. There was only a little space, but it would work, Dean figured, at least until Sam was asleep again.

Dean took care to not jostle Sam too much or dislocate any of the wires or tubes as he climbed in next to his mate.

He snuck one arm under Sam's neck and the other one over his middle and came so close to the omega's ear that this lips brushed over it.

"See? It's just fine, baby boy," he whispered. "We're both here. I'll watch over you. Nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? I'll stay awake. I'll be here." His hot breath made Sam shudder.

He smoothed Sam's hair back and brushed over his cheek.

The omega turned his head towards him longingly and tried to shift, to turn on his side. He failed, though. Not just because of the pain, which tore through his stomach when he tried, but also because his limbs felt heavy and his whole body was immobile.

"Stay," Dean whispered into his ear. "I'm here. I'm here."

Sam blew out a strangled breath as he tried to move once again.

Dean laid his flat palm over the omega's heart, stilling him. "Stay," he breathed a gentle order into his ear.

The alpha understood. He could feel it. He could feel what Sam longed for. Shelter. Safety. Affection. Dean.

The alpha knew that it'd hurt if Sam tried to turn on his side. The stitches on and below his skin would tear.

They were wounds after all. Healing wounds, but still wounds.

Of course, he was on pain meds, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

Sam made a small sound, on the verge of falling asleep again. A sound that was barely audible over the beeping of the machines.

The alpha didn't intervene. He didn't speak, shift, or fondle Sam. He just lay there, holding him, showing him that Dean was there.

Only after his breathing evened out again and the beeping of the monitors slowed down did Dean kiss his temple and pat his chest gently.

"There you go, Sammy," he murmured and allowed himself to let his eyes drift closed.

Eventually he fell asleep, too.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

When the first sunbeams of the early morning broke through the huge windows of the room, and a hand came to a rest on his shoulder, Dean's eyes flew open. Disoriented and sleep-drunk as he was, he didn't recognize Becca at first.

Only when her scent penetrated his nose, he caught himself slipping his hand under the pillow reaching for nothing.

"Mornin'," she whispered.

Dean grumbled a good morning back and yawned. He shifted a bit and groaned, his hip protesting about turning on his back.

As if he pulled Sam out of sleep with him, the omega shifted slightly, too. A soft sound, muffled by the oxygen mask he still wore, fell from his lips.

"Look who's wakin' up," Becca sounded too cheerful for that damn early time of day. She took his vitals and scribbled them onto the board.

"Sammy," Dean whispered affectionately and brushed over his forehead. He felt the omega's rib cage expand beside him.

"I have to inform Doctor Cavenaugh," she spoke calmly, while she attached a saline drip to Sam's IV. "I'll bring some ice chips with me when I come back." Becca smiled down at the both men and patted Dean's shoulder before she left.

The alpha sniffed and groaned and made another string of unpleased noises before he eventually managed to roll on his back and out of bed.

He got a buttload of other disappointed noises from Sam in response.

Dean held the omega's hand while he stretched as well as he possibly could and squeezed it gently, showing him that he was there.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

The next two days found Sam drifting in and out of sleep and barely recognizing his surroundings. The only things he was aware of were he wasn't at Bobby's or Dean's house and that his alpha was by his side whenever he'd wake up. Another thing was that he could sense other people, people he didn't know and he wasn't so excited about meeting either.

He was aware of his mind feeling dislocated from his body and that everything felt heavy and strange and that he didn't want anything more than being back home.

Sam felt his mate lying beside him or being close, even in his sleep. The knowledge that Dean was close to him at any time made his weird morphine induced dreams seem half as bad as they actually were.

White gleaming eyes in the darkness of cold nights.

He had memories he couldn't quite place to a specific time. Yeah, memories. First, his mind had told him that these had to be dreams. Simple dreams. But they weren't. They couldn't be. They all felt so real and close, as if he had lived through it. Even though he hadn't.

There was a specific one, too. He dreamed of watching someone standing in the middle of a clearing in front of something that looked like a pyre. The cool air brushed over his nose and cheeks and made the leaves in the trees whistle softly.

The scent of burnt flesh (yeah, burnt flesh for crying out loud, as if he truly knew what burning flesh smelled like) penetrated his nostrils.

The figure, a man, in front of the pyre, looked over his shoulder and gazed straight at him. Sam felt himself move backwards, hiding in the safe darkness of the trees. He didn't know why he felt like it wasn't a good idea to be caught, or seen. He also didn't know why he thought it'd be dangerous …

Sam had no clue about anything, and there he was, watching dark green eyes staring into his direction without actually seeing him.

He knew he was supposed to know if he was supposed to remember if it was only a dream or if this had really happened …

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

It's been four days since Sam had gotten admitted to hospital and he seemed to be doing a lot better now. Well, it wasn't as if he was walking around by himself and that he was able to do a lot of things besides staying awake longer than two hours at once, but he would be getting there. Dean was sure of it.

What bothered him more than Sam's current physical condition was that he seemed silent. Well, the omega hadn't talked a lot anyway and it wasn't surprising after surgery and almost bleeding to death, but this silence he felt … it was different than before.

It was making Dean Winchester want to cuddle and snuggle the omega all the damn time. This silence made his fell insecure and desperate. His heart squeezed and his guts seized up whenever he looked at Sam, no matter if awake or sleeping.

Sam lay on his back in the hospital bed, covered by a comforter and the blanket. The oxygen mask and electrodes of the CTG were gone since that morning, when doctor Cavenaugh declared that they were no longer necessary.

Dean had shoved the bed right up against Sam's and was lying on it, the stress of the past days written all over his face and body. Scruff covered his cheeks and skin and dark shadows were under his eyes. He lay on his side, facing Sam's motionless form, but kept his eyes closed.

He knew that Sam was awake and Sam knew that Dean was awake.

It was shortly before noon and the nurse would come by soon to bring Sam's lunch.

A thoughtful sigh fell from the omega's lips and he blinked.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, his hand squeezing the omega's gently. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled tenderly when his gaze fell onto the slightly flushed face of his mate.

Sam looked a lot better than a day before. He had more color in his face and his breaths were regular and far away from as labored as they had been.

He'd been so close to loosing Sam. Even when Jim and Cavenaugh had tired to assure him that everything was okay and that Sam was stable, for a moment he had been loosing him.

"You look better." Dean continued calmly and inched a bit closer.

Sam sighed again and seconds later, he was turning his head towards Dean and returned his smile. Though it wasn't an honest one. Dean could tell that something was bothering him. That something wasn't right.

"You don't," the omega's voice was rough and scratchy. "You're lookin' tired." There was honest concern in his words.

The ex-hunter closed the small distance between them, so that they were mere inches apart and cupped Sam's face in his hands, feeling the smooth, warm skin against his palm and seeing the spark of adoration in the omega's soft eyes.

"Just … I was worried." Dean tilted his head back slightly and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I was afraid of loosing you."

Sam's smile faded slowly. "You should try to get some sleep. I'm good. I'm not going to go anywhere soon." He knew it was his fault that Dean didn't sleep a lot those past days.

"Nah. It's fine," the ex-hunter hummed. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Sam turned into the gentle touch and an honest-to-god smile spread over his face when his eyes fluttered shut to feel those warm palms against his skin. Though his limbs still felt heavy and of no good use, he managed to sneak his hand out under the comforter and cover Dean's with his bigger one.

He knew that Dean knew that something wasn't quite right. Hell, he himself didn't know what made him so thoughtful ever since he woke up for the first time. It was just that he kind of felt empty now. As if something was missing, though he knew that there had been no other way or it'd have killed him. He knew that sooner or later he might have regretted to let it live and sacrifice himself even if it had been a part of him.

But now? … Did it feel that way when a woman lost her baby? Was it like this? Did it hurt so bad that you thought that your heart got torn apart?

If so … how could those women survive something like that?

How were they supposed to carry on and continue living their lives?

"Don't think so hard," the alpha whispered against his soft lips after stealing a peck from him. "It makes you look older than you actually are."

Sam's lips twitched. "Is… is it … dead?" He needed to know. Some sick part of him needed to know if it had ever lived as soon as it was out, or if they had to kill it …

Dean sighed and backed away a bit, looking anywhere but Sam. One day he would need to tell him. There was no way around it.

"No."

He felt Sam freeze and his breath getting stuck somewhere between his lungs and throat.

"It got away."

The omega had to do everything to not breathe out in relief about hearing that. Maybe it was weird, but he was relieved. "It got away" meant that it was alive and somewhere out there. It meant that there was a chance that … Hell, Sam didn't know what exactly he was supposed to think, or how to rationalize that he was kind of happy that his baby – the parasite, how the others had called it – was breathing and somewhere out there.

Sam nodded. He didn't need to know more, nor did he want to give himself away. After all, Dean was a hunter and the less he said about this topic, the better it'd be. The Winchester wouldn't understand anyway…

Dean Winchester wasn't sure if it was a good sign that his mate took it that way or not. He had no clue what Sam was thinking right now, but he smelled his scent, which had sweetened and his features had relaxed, though he still looked kind of troubled and unsure.

Maybe it was a good sign, or it meant that the omega would break down later on.

Either way. He had to take it as it came, he guessed.

"Whatcha say, Sammy? Breakfast?" he said gently.

The omega blinked his long lashes at Dean and gave him a small nod, his colorful irises sparkling in the bright sunlight.

"Good," Dean hummed and rolled out of bed on the other side. He sauntered around it and came to Sam's other side, where he bowed over him and slid with his arms under the omega's neck and shoulders.

Sam could feel his mate so close. He could scent his unique odor and feel the soft stubble rubbing against his smooth cheek. "You ready?" Dean breathed into his ear.

It sounded like a prayer to him, calming and, though a little irritating, it was in a very affectionate way.

"Yeah." Sam snuck his long arms around Dean's back and held onto him.

He tried to help as well as he could when Dean lifted his torso up and pulled him up a bit, feeling when Sam tried to get his feet to work and shove himself with the motion.

Dean exhaled warmly against the omega's ear as he laid him back into the pillows and pulled back a bit, so that he could look him in his eyes. The alpha closed the short distance between their lips and covered Sam's with his own and he let his mouth linger.

Though it wasn't all tongue and teeth, both of them were slightly breathless afterwards.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Breakfast went by agonizingly slowly. Sam wasn't really hungry. He didn't feel any appetite either, even when he saw the nicely served plate with scrambled eggs, bread, orange juice, and sweet creamy coffee.

It took Dean several tries to get Sam to eat, but in the end the plate was empty. So were the glass and the mug. Only a small box with jello was left, which he could eat later on.

When Dean was sure that Sam was good and would keep his breakfast down, he went to get himself something from the cafeteria on the first floor. But not without giving his omega a very nice, very long kiss and telling him that he'd be back in thirty minutes.

Though, ten minutes into Dean's absence, Sam started to feel a bit uneasy and a slight pressure in his lower abdomen.

Sam gazed longingly towards the bathroom door, chewing his lower lip as he thought about how to manage those few yards towards it. He then gazed up at the saline drip, which was running into his vein and then down to his right side, where the bag connected to his catheter dangled from the bedside.

He only needed to get into an upright position and take the IV pole and the bag with him. He could use the pole as a supporter …

Nope, using the emergency button to call the nurse didn't even occur to him just then. Besides, who wanted to have someone else watching while sitting on the toilet? Especially Sam, who was more than weirded out by all those strange nurses and people he didn't even know.

What let him think about the fact, that one day he'd get released and that he'd have to leave the room and make his way to the car with Dean, all those people seeing him. SMELLING him.

So yeah, Samuel Tristan Harvelle decided to take care of his business alone, since he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer and most of all he didn't want Dean to go all mother-hen on him again and bring him into the bathroom.

He'd need to get back on his feet anyway. If not now, then in the afternoon or tomorrow. At least, Doc. Cavenaugh had told him that. Well, he may have mentioned, too, that he wasn't supposed to try anything on his own.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Dean stood in the cafeteria in a line of about twenty people, who were getting breakfast. If you could call sandwiches, donuts and muffins a breakfast even. He grumbled something under his breath and gazed at the big clock on the white wall.

This would take half a century until he'd be through and even when he'd take the tray with him into Sam's room, it'd cost him more than thirty minutes to get back to Sam.

He grumbled and scrunched his nose up in discomfort.

Dean Winchester hated this crap. It might be faster if he went and got himself something from the diner he had seen across the street from the hospital, out of Sam's window. He decided the cafeteria was a hopeless mission and put the tray down, leaving his place in the line.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Sam had managed to get the urine bag loose and held it in his left hand, while he held onto the pole with his right one in an iron grip.

Tiny pearls of sweat were already forming on his skin when he slid from the bed and landed tentatively on his huge feet, willing them to obey.

A surprised smile formed on the omega's lips when he felt the cool floor against his soles. It felt weird, but on the other hand good, to feel his weight again, being able to stand there.

Well, half the way into his mission, Samuel Harvelle wasn't so sure anymore if this had been a very good idea. The pressing matter of why he had gotten up in the first place increased and he already started to feel shaky and not so well.

Maybe he should've called a nurse to help him. Or he should've tried to wait for Dean to come back.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

If someone thought that the cafeteria was bad, this diner seemed to be even lousier. They needed about fifteen minutes to make two coffees and another twenty minutes to wrap up two freaking donuts and three fucking muffins.

The Winchester decided that waiting for scrambled eggs, bacon and maybe some toast would last at least another half an hour. That was way too long. He'd call Bobby later on and ask if he'd get him something for lunch, so he wouldn't have to leave Sam. Again.

Dean grabbed the bags from the counter and the two cups of coffee. One smaller, which was his and one bigger which was supposed to be Sam's, since he loved this sweet vanilla stuff with extra sugar and loads of milk.

The omega would need the extra calories to get back on his feet.

Dean made it back across the street, into the hospital, and up to the fifth floor in no time, panting and limping like he was an asthmatic patient himself. Only when he reached the closed door to his omega's room he stopped and took a couple of deep breaths, smiling apologetically at the passing nurses and visitors as they gave him curious looks.

The alpha looked all roughed up with three-day-old scruff covering his face and mussed clothes. Hell, he probably reeked since he hadn't showered since the first morning Sam had been admitted and had gotten settled.

He had actually only noticed just now and planned on taking a shower tonight and maybe get rid of his beard and a get fresh set of clothes.

One more thing he had to ask Bobby for. Or maybe Ellen if she still was around.

Another deep breath and his elbow pushed the door handle down, nudging the door open with his shoulder. Once inside, he took two steps towards the bed and stopped dead at the third one as he realized that the sheets were all messed up and Sam gone.

His eyes widened and he nearly dropped the bag and coffee, wouldn't it have been for his reflexes to tighten their hold on the items he held when they started to slip.

"Sam?" he asked into the empty room and strode over to the bedside table, where he put the cups and bags and looked around the room.

The pole was gone.

He made himself calm down, and forced himself to think properly. He thought that Sam might have been taken for an ultra sound or some other test. Then again, if he had, Cavenaugh would have told them beforehand and wouldn't have just taken Sam.

Besides, Cavenaugh knew about Sam's backstory and wouldn't order someone to make him leave the room.

After all Sam was Sam and Sam wouldn't deal well with a bunch of strangers prodding and surrounding him.

"Sammy?" he asked once again.

There was no sound except for the passing people and the muffled chatter of nurses from the corridor. As if on instinct, his gaze flew towards the bathroom door. Nope, it wasn't instinct. It was more than that. Different.

It was like something was calling out to him. No. Not something. Someone.

Sam.

to be continued