Chapter 3

Dean's first attempt at rejoining the waking world had been one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made in his entire life, and he'd made a lot of them in his few short years on earth. The closer he drifted to consciousness, the harder and faster the pain pulsed through him, starting in his legs, crawling up into his hip, up through his back and chest, bottlenecking through his neck and out through the top of his head, only to turn around and travel right back down again in one long, vicious circle. Add that to the fact that they'd stuck needles and tubes in places he didn't even know they could and they sure as hell didn't belong, and he decided he had no intentions of facing that music right now. His mind turned around, and quietly lifted the white flag of surrender, opting to hide itself in the comfort of nothingness, at least for a little while longer.

His second attempt had been a little more bold, almost fully making it back to the land of the living, until the damn tube stuck down his throat started choking him as he tried to take in his own air. The more he tried, the harder it got though, as the damn circus elephants decided to dance directly on is chest, and damn it if that intense throbbing pain still wasn't there, coursing through him like water flowing down a rain soaked river, ready to overflow. He didn't know that many places could all hurt at one time, and he really could have done without that lesson, so back into his own mind he retreated once again, deciding to save is fight for another day.

On his third attempt he was right there, his eyes actually briefly fluttering, the damn thing they'd shoved down his throat that had been choking him finally gone, finally able to draw in his own air on his own terms, until he felt the damn tube they'd now stuck down his nose every time he tried to swallow. The pain had finally reduced itself to tolerable, at least tolerable to him, until he actually had the brilliant idea to try and move. Big mistake, the pain obviously laying dormant, just waiting to be called forth again, and come forth it did with a vengeance, like someone had stuck him with bare wires attached directly to an electrical socket in the wall, then doused him with water. That was it for one day, he'd had enough. He crawled back into the shelter of his mind, preferring to return to the safety he found there then to the harsh reality outside.

By his fourth attempt, he was pretty determined to make it all the way out, the quiet of his own head now somewhat unnerving to him, and not entirely quiet anymore. There was a little voice in there with him, whispering just quietly enough that he couldn't make out what it was saying, and it was definitely female. There was no longer room in there for the both of them, so he sucked it up and decided it was time to come out and play.

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw nothing. The room was pitch dark, no light filtering in from any direction that he could see aiding in his visual quest. He limited his movement to just his eyes at first, the pain in his head and neck too much to even attempt such a drastic change of position as he darted his eyes from left to right, fear starting to rise that maybe, just maybe, he'd gone blind. He knew he wasn't alone though as the unmistakable rhythm of the deep breathing from across the room sent some measure of relief over him, the pattern of breath so familiar to him, the pattern he needed so badly to hear.

"Sam? Is that you over there?" His voice was little more the a whisper, it not sounding right in his own ears. He was Dean Winchester, he didn't whine like a girl, until today, that is.

He heard the rustle of sheets just before he heard feet land hard on the floor, the breathing no longer coming from across the room, but from right in front of him. He felt a hand firmly grip his wrist, as his voice came out groggy and cracked, it still lingering in the stages of sleep it had been so abruptly torn from.

"Dean, oh my god, are you awake?"

"Sam, I can't see. Am I blind?"

Sam didn't answer, instead reached over his brother's head above the bed, slowly turning the dimmer switch to the light and illuminating the room just enough for Dean to see, but not enough to blind him by going from instant dark to instant light before his eyes could adjust or react. He let out an audible sigh of relief, as Sam let out one of his own, his brother finally back with him, the worry it would never happen quickly fading.

"Dude, do you have any idea how much I hate Illinois?"

"Dean, we're not in Illinois, we're in Wisconsin."

"Whatever, I officially hate Wisconsin too. Where the hell are we anyway?"

"Beloit."

"Great, a city that's name sounds like drunken dry heaves. When the hell can we get out of here, anyway? That damn spirit we were after isn't going to salt and burn itself," he started fidgeting in his bed, the tube down his nose momentarily forgotten, ready to pull out one needle after another, not really taking in the full extent of his situation.

Sam grasped his shoulder in a firm grip, silently telling Dean that what he was thinking wasn't a very good idea. "Bobby already took care of it for us. He actually just left a couple days ago, had something else he needed to take care of. Said he'd be back when he was done."

"A couple days ago? Shit Sam, how long have we been here?" Dean couldn't hide the tension in his voice as he got more and more agitated, his lack of memory starting to grate on his nerves.

"Dean, calm down. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Running out of gas, leaving the Impala and walking down that dark road, man, you were pissed at me……SHIT, where's my car Sam? If something happened to the car, I swear…" If he wasn't agitated before, he was full on panicked now as he doubled his efforts to drag himself from his bed, oblivious to the tubes holding him there in various places.

Sam shoved him back down easily, it not really requiring much effort and answered him calmly, hoping it would have a mirror effect on his now borderline frantic brother.

"The car's fine, it's down in the parking lot as we speak. Bobby was in Michigan when I called him, he came and towed it for me. Put a little gas in it, it's good as new. Chill out, there isn't a scratch on it."

Dean visibly calmed, one less thing to worry about taxing his brain, which was almost on the verge of overload, that little voice in his head telling him he should have never left the quiet comfort inside and come out into this nightmare outside it.

"Sam, how long has it been? Stop screwing around and tell me what the hell happened before I really start to get pissed."

"Been awake for five minutes and you're already back to your old self. That's a good sign, I think."

"SAM!"

"Ok already. We were walking, and you got hit by that car that came swerving down the road. You tried to get out of the way, but it clipped you anyway and sent you flying into a tree. It messed you up pretty bad. The doctors didn't think you were going to make it for a while. Dean, you were dead, I mean clinically dead, for over four minutes. You broke more bones then anyone thought was humanly possible to break at one time, you've had three surgeries, and you've been in a coma since, except for that short time you came to in the ambulance. Do you remember any of it, anything at all?"

Dean let everything Sam said sink in as his mind did focus on a few fuzzy memories of that night. He remembered seeing the car against the tree, the woman in the road, and something else, something that wouldn't quite come to the front of his mind.

"The people in the car, what happened to them?" He asked, some memory lingering just out of reach, hoping Sam's answer would provide the spark to bring it to the forefront.

"The woman driving the car didn't make it. After she hit you, she hit a tree on the other side of the road. Cops said her airbag and seatbelt were faulty, and when the belt didn't lock and the airbag didn't deploy, the impact against the tree drove her into the steering wheel. She died at the scene, Dean. They said she was epileptic and must have had a seizure or something. They think that's why she lost control of the car and hit you."

"What about the passenger, the guy?"

Unable to hide his scowl, he just shook his head at Dean, "There was no passenger. She was alone in the car."

"Yes there was, I saw him. I saw him get out of the car and take off into the woods."

"Dean, you couldn't have seen anyone, you were all the way on the other side of the road, in the grass, and believe me, you weren't seeing anything."

"Sam, I know what I saw."

"Ok Dean, just relax. When did you see this guy?"

"Right before the ambulances showed up, I was standing in the street……" Dean words trailed off, his thoughts sending a chill up his spine as he chose the rest of them carefully. "Sam, when was I dead?"

Sam stared at his brother's eyes, the eerie change in their color still present as he answered. "You died in my arms Dean, right before the ambulance got there. They brought you back before they took you to the hospital. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Maybe, I don't know. How long has it been Sam? How long have I been out?"

"It's been five weeks Dean, five long weeks."

Dean stared at Sam, not really comprehending what he was being told, his voice trailing off as he watched Sam's lips move. He knew Sam was saying something he needed to hear, but couldn't really focus on it, as his body stiffened and started jerking uncontrollably. Through open eyes, he watched Sam stand and run, mouth open wide in what he knew had to be a scream, but he was helpless to utter a single word. As the seizure wracked his body, he heard the voice inside his head again, that woman's voice, as she spoke to him, pleaded to him.

"Please, help me, don't leave me trapped here. It wasn't my fault, please, don't leave me here," she cried, her voice trailing as the convulsions that had overtaken Dean's body subsided, leaving him breathless and confused.

Sam was back at his side by the time he caught his breath, with a doctor and nurses in tow. Dean could hear them talking, either to him or at him, he really didn't care which, the pain the seizure brought on throughout his body forcing his mind back into itself, at least for a little while. He closed his eyes, and as he drifted off to sleep, mumbled one last thing that none of them could make out, not even Sam.