A/N: Ok, I'm SO sorry to keep you waiting. Between the packing, moving, unpacking and putting together the beginnings of a new small business, my personal life has been in complete upheaval. I'm also sorry this is another short chapter. I have probably one chapter left after this. It will be posted in the next couple of days. All constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, and added to favorites this endeavor. I hope the end, when it finally comes, does not disappoint.
Sam stepped outside the room and dialed Bobby, hoping he had some good news. Dean needed to be able to trust his car again and Sam would do everything in his power to make that happen. He knew his brother was hurting no matter how much he tried to hide it. The physical pain was the easy part though. They'd dealt with that often enough to know how to push through it. The emotional pain, the constant loss of trust, would be Dean's undoing. He bottled it up, refusing to let Sam help. To let anyone help. The only person Sam knew that could get his brother to not so much open up, but at least let go of things was Bobby. Even before their father passed away, Bobby had his complete trust and loyalty. For that, Sam was extremely grateful. He realized now that he should've called the older hunter as soon as Dean was admitted to the hospital. He deserved that much. As did Dean.
After several rings, Bobby answered. "Sam. How's your brother doing?"
"He's good. After his bath we had lunch. Now he's having a nap."
This made the older man laugh quietly. "He'd love to hear you saying that out loud."
"Yeah, well I'm happy he can hear me say anything. Sorry, guess I'm still not dealing well with what happened. Did you find something?"
"You sure you don't need me to come down there? You know I don't mind."
"No, we'll be fine. Besides we should be leaving soon anyway. Dean will want to go as soon as the car is ready, whether he's ready to drive it or not."
"Ok. I didn't find an answer to your question about the ghosts. That one still has me stumped. But I think I can help with the charm. I know a couple of people about an hour from you that should be able to help. They aren't Hunters, but they've been known to help from time to time. I'll e-mail you their contact information as soon as we're done here."
"Thanks, Bobby. Really. I only hope it will help. I've never seen Dean so uninterested in his car. It's sort of unnerving." With a small ray of hope, Sam could feel some of the weight lift off his shoulders.
"I'm sure he'll be fine. He's a lot stronger than he thinks. You make sure to let me know how it goes. And let me know if you find out what was up with those ghosts. It's damn weird."
"I will. And thanks again. Maybe I can get him to stop by the next time we're close."
"You know you're always welcome. Take it easy, kid. And don't let your brother push himself too hard. I know how stubborn all you Winchesters can be. Tell the idjit to call me."
After talking with Bobby, he called Marcus to check on the car. The repairs were almost done, should be ready by the next day. And he found something in the Caprice he thought they'd like to see, that might prove helpful. Sam felt better than he had in days. The possibility of help for Dean and a case that was finally over were both cause for celebration. All he had to do now was make sure Dean stayed in Glen Rose long enough to heal. Once he was back in the room, he went straight back to the laptop, determined to figure out why Wesley waited so long to get Scott to move on. Why wait until it got so dangerous? On a more personal level, he still wanted to know why Dean was so hesitant to call Scott by name. It was out of character for his brother to connect with a spirit, even more so with one that wanted them dead. He was pulled from his thoughts by a sound from his brother.
He looked up to see Dean, tossing and turning, lost in a nightmare. He caught an occasional word, mostly just his name. When he heard a whispered, "Dad, please," he knew at least part of the dream. He'd never forget the only time his brother ever uttered that phrase. He could picture the scene in his mind like it was yesterday, Dean begging their father not to let the Demon kill him just before he passed out from pain and blood loss still pinned to the wall. He debated waking him from the dream, but didn't want his brother to know he'd been listening in.
When Dean woke screaming, Sam knew it was time. "When are we going to talk about this?"
"Talk about what?" He could hear the remnants of fear in his voice.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the nightmares. Or the car. You won't look at it. You never ask about it. That's just not like you." And it scares me.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine, so give it a rest."
"Dean, you can't keep bottling things up. It's going to kill you."
"No, all of your nagging will do that fine. Now did you find what you were looking for?"
Sam decided to let it go for now. Pushing too hard would only make him close up completely. He mentioned possibly talking to Bobby about the ghost issue. That would make any other calls about Dean and the Impala not so awkward. He'd try again later to get his brother to open up or at least stop shutting him out. They only recently cleared the air and could talk about their father without a wall coming up between them. He was also willing to accept Dean's attempt to change the subject to the car. It was better than more silence and averted eyes.
"Yeah, it'll be ready first thing tomorrow. He also said he found something of Scott's in the Caprice, a journal. Since they had no family left, he said we could take. Thought it might help put things to rest."
"So we're stuck here one more night? I guess that's not too bad."
"Just one night? Damn it, Dean! You need to stay off that leg for a minimum of three days, especially after today." He could already tell no amount of screaming or begging would win this argument, but he'd try anyway.
"You can forget that crap. We leave as soon as the car is ready. Besides, my leg doesn't hurt that bad."
"And I'm sure your head doesn't hurt anymore either. You know, all I ask is a couple of days to keep matters from getting worse. Is that too much?"
"Sam! This isn't open for discussion. The sooner we leave this damn town, the better. Any ideas on where we can head next."
Knowing the discussion truly was over, he gave in. It'd make their last night in town less tense. They spent the evening going over the possibilities he'd found before everything went to hell.
They both woke early. Dean, with stiffness in his injured leg, wanted to get one last soak in the hot tub before leaving. He knew they'd never be able to afford another room that had one. He was glad Sam wasn't pressing him to stay anymore. He felt that distance from Glen Rose would help him get past his anxiety over his car. He hoped it would be that simple.
"Hey, while you're in the shower I'm going to get coffee and doughnuts. Any special requests?" He didn't tell Sam he planned to get the car as well. The sooner he got that over with the better. Without a little brother hovering and asking if he was ok.
"No, but wait 10 minutes and I'll go with you. We can go to the diner by the garage and get the car."
"I can be there and back before you finish. You know you take longer than ten minutes to do all your girly primping."
He left before Sam had a chance to argue. It took a little longer than expected to drop off the loaner car. Marcus was so excited with the work on the Impala he wanted to talk all about it.
"Your baby is running perfectly now. Not a dent or scratch on her anymore."
Dean almost flinched when he called the car his baby. It would be a while before he'd be able to do that. But he didn't want the mechanic see how uneasy he was about getting behind the wheel for the first time since the accident.
"Oh, before you take off, I have something I found in the Caprice."
"Yeah, Sam mentioned you found a journal. You sure you want to give that to us?"
"Sure. He told me what happened, how Wesley helped. He also mentioned that you were concerned about a few things. I thought a bit of insight into Scott when he was alive might help. You and Sam remind me a lot of those boys."
"I'll give it to Sam as soon as I get back. We'll let you know what we find."
"You boys take care and stop by if you're ever in these parts."
"We will, and thanks again for everything. Mostly what you did for Sam. And don't hesitate to call if you ever have one of our kinds of problems." Dean liked the man and knew another mechanic he'd probably get along pretty well with. Both of them gruff and stubborn on the outside and caring when it mattered.
Walking toward the Impala, he tried to look as calm as possible though his heart was racing. He quickly got behind the wheel and started the car, knowing the sooner he faced his fears the sooner he'd get past them. A tightness in his chest gradually increased on the short trip to the diner across the street, a tightness that receded as soon as he stepped out of the car. That wasn't so bad. This'll be a piece of cake.
In no time at all, he had coffee and doughnuts, ready to head back to the room. Ready to prove to his little worry wort of a brother that they could leave that day. Again, he entered the car without hesitation, too fast to acknowledge any fear, and started the short drive back to the hotel. Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a short drive became an agonizing wait at a few stoplights, right in the middle of the morning rush hour. The first light wasn't too bad. The tightness still dull enough to breathe through. By the time he got through the second light, slight panic was setting in, memories of the steering wheel pushing all the air from his lungs.
The panic caused a shortness of breath and by the time he got through the third and final light, he was beginning to feel the lack of oxygen, which increased the level of panic. As he pulled into the parking lot, time seemed to stand still, the memories having completely taken over. He could almost feel the crush of the wheel, the burn in his lungs. He must've leaned forward onto the horn because the next thing he knew the door was open, Sam coaxing him to breathe slowly. As soon as he got himself more under control, he quickly got out of the car. The best way he knew to get the panic under control was to remove himself from the situation causing it.
He was pissed at himself for losing control so easily, but more so for putting that scared look on his brother's face. Again. He knew there was no way Sam would let them leave town yet. Not when Dean couldn't drive three blocks without having a panic attack. He hated looking so weak, especially to Sam. So he did what he always did in moments like that. He tried to pretend it never happened then tried to joke it off. Neither of which were very successful seeing as he wasn't yet able to easily take a full breath.
"Damn it, Dean! You said you were just going for coffee. Why the hell couldn't you wait for me to go get the car?"
"Because I'm not freaking four! I didn't need my little brother to hold my hand and take me there. It's not that big a deal."
"Not that big a deal? Really? So that's why you were passed out in the front seat?"
"Just drop it, Sam!" He so did not want to go into it with his brother. It was bad enough that it even happened. But for Sam to see it was the one thing he wanted to avoid.
"Not this time. Why wouldn't you wait? I know there's a reason."
"To avoid precisely what happened. I didn't want you to see that." He hadn't planned on telling Sam the truth. It simply seemed like the easiest way to get the conversation over with with as little embarrassment as possible.
"Why? Do you really believe that I'd think less of you because you had a panic attack? That is what happened, right?"
"God, it sounds so lame when you call it that. It wasn't so bad until I got stuck at stoplights. I would've made it here fine otherwise."
"There's no reason to be ashamed of it. It's a perfectly natural response to what you went through. I'd be more worried if it didn't affect you."
"Can we at least take this discussion inside. I don't need the whole town to hear it." He grabbed their breakfast from the car and headed for the relative privacy of their room. Sam continued the conversation as he followed.
"You didn't answer my first question. Do you really believe I'd think less of you?"
"No. It's not that." Not really.
"Then what? Talk to me."
"Fine! If I tell you, can we please stop talking about it?" Sam nodded his response. "How the hell can I stop a demon if I can't even drive my own car without freaking out? How am I supposed to protect you? I couldn't keep you from being possessed. Hell, I couldn't even keep a car safe." Dad should've stayed. Should have let me die. Then Sam would be safe.
Sam looked at him, obviously at a loss for words. It was all the confirmation Dean needed. He knew their father would've protected Sam from being possessed. Would be the only one that could keep him safe from his supposed destiny. Now he knew that Sam felt the same way. "Dad would've been able to keep you safe from the demon." What good am I?