-1Bar Fights and Bullets
Chapter 25
Sam opened his eyes yawning and glanced over at the clock on his end table. It was just after nine, the house was quiet which was not much of a surprise after the commotion he'd heard the previous night. He had been woken up by the sound of his brother's frantic cries, but hearing his father tend to him, he decided to sit that one out.
Climbing out of bed wearing only his black nylon work out pants he stretched and ran a hand through his hair before making his way out toward the living room.
The sight that awaited him, was not one he was ready for.
The front room was a mess, a heaping pile of metal in the far corner, metal that Sam knew had once been his brother's wheelchair although it no longer bared any resemblance to the monstrous contraption.
In the center of the room stood Dean balanced skillfully with one hand inside his walker. The older man's eyes were fixed heatedly on the far wall. The hand holding the walker clutching so tightly to it Dean's knuckles were white, his concentration completely focused on the task at hand.
Sam's throat clenched as he fought the urge to ask what the hell was going on and crossed his arm's over his chest, before leaning against the door frame simply watching.
Although he had no idea exactly what had brought on this sudden 'fit' his brother seemed to be throwing, he knew that the only way for it to pass was to let Dean do whatever the hell he was going to do and pick up the pieces afterward.
Dean's eyes were blazing deep with fire, his features set like stone into a look of anger and fear as he drew his handgun from his pocket and aimed it toward the small target on the wall.
"You can do this…." His whisper was barely audible as he looked through the small hole aligning his shot. "Come on you pussy."
But no matter how many insults he threw in his own direction, no matter how hard he tried to calm his nerves, the fearful man's hand shook uncontrollably the gun threatening to fall from his grasp. There was sweat rolling like rain down his forehead, his heart beating like a thousand drums in his chest.
Dean was scared.
No matter how much he fought against it, no matter how many times he tried to remind himself how good a shot he knew he was, he couldn't steady his hand, he couldn't press his finger against the trigger, he couldn't forget the images, the pain, the memories flashing in front of his eyes even as they remained open. He just couldn't, the sense of failure once more was working it's way inside of him as he grunted softly. He had shot so many evil things in his life time, he had held a gun so many times it was like second nature to him…. Or it used to be anyway. So why couldn't he do it?
Sam frowned drawing his lip into his mouth, he could see his brother's entire body shaking with fear… He could hear each struggled and shallow intake of breath, he could practically feel the emotion radiating off of the other man's flesh… And he couldn't take it anymore.
With a few quick and quiet strides the younger yet taller man was standing behind his brother and slowly he reached out placing calm and steady hands over trembling, sweaty ones. "Take a deep breath."
Dean flinched feeling Sam now standing behind him, his hands locked underneath his brother's. He didn't want Sam to see him like this, hell he didn't want anyone to see him like this… But all the same he couldn't bring himself to get angry, he couldn't scream at Sam to get away, he couldn't pull free…
He would never say it, he would never so much as elude to it, but having Sam always one step behind him, always with in arms reach, always there… Was a comfort unlike any he had ever known before, it was consistency when he had none.
So he did as he was told and closed his eyes drawing in a deep and lung aching breath as he felt Sam's finger forcefully press down against his.
Blood.
Pain.
Destruction.
Anger.
Fire.
A single gunshot filled Dean's ears and immediately his emotions over ran any and everything else inside of him.
The last nine months or so rushing back to him and ripping through his soul… Everything that had happened, everything he had been through, everything he had felt… It was all there again just below the surface. Gnawing at him like a hell hound attached to his heel.
Sam watched as his brother's body visibly jumped at the sound of the gun firing, he felt Dean's entire frame tense up and his frown deepened, "Dean…" He whispered cautiously letting go of the gun and stepping back a little putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You alright man?"
But Dean didn't answer, he didn't even hear Sam talking to him, as his eyes opened again, red and hot with tears, it was as through that single shot had opened an entire flood gate….
His grip on the gun tightened and he shot it again, then a third time and a forth, flinching each time until there were no more bullets and all that could be heard was the clicking and rotating of the empty chamber.
Slowly his trembling hand dropped the small black object to the ground, his eyes still facing ahead he stared deeply into the smoke watching it clear. A sense of peace had risen inside of him somewhere around the third shot or so, and before he knew it he just couldn't stop. Shot after shot, fear induced adrenaline running through his veins he had done it. And it felt right.
Sam's eyes were wide now with both shock and fear as he gave the shoulder under his palm a hard squeeze and took a minute to find his composure and his voice again. "Dean?"
Clearing his throat as though he were coming back from some alternate reality a place far from here, far from now, Dean blinked rapidly a few times registering that he was being spoken to and smirked cockily in response. "Damn that felt good…"
Sam thought briefly about the neighbors and how this might have sounded to them, but as quickly as it came the thought passed, they had lied to the cops and the public hundreds of times, they would come up with something if the situation were to come to that.
"As good as it felt to dissect your wheels?" He looked once again to the pile of metal in the corner and cringed, he knew his brother still needed that, that no matter how much of a front the older man put up, he wasn't ready just yet,
"Better… I think. Although that felt pretty good too."
"Might I ask what brought on this sudden ….Change?"
"You can ask." Dean quipped as he reached back a little and peeled Sam off of him before pushing his walker forward and making his way up to the target, inspecting his handy work.
"Where's Dad?"
"Out." The older man held up the target proudly, "Bulls eye every time, guess I'm about ready to get back in the saddle eh?"
"Nice… Out where?"
"Bobby's." Dean folded the target and shoved it into his pocket, this was definitely one for the scrapbook. "So I'm thinking we should start looking for a hunt…" He tried to sound authoritative as he made his way over to the sofa and sat down slowly.
"Bobby's?" Sam fallowed behind him. "What the hell is he doing at Bobby's?"
"Bobby caught wind of a group of savage demon's a few miles west of his place and called Dad this morning saying he needed our help."
"Our help?" Sam couldn't keep the surprise from his voice or his expression as he tilted his head studying his brother.
"Yes Sammy, our help. We're supposed so meet them up there as soon as you got your lazy hump out of bed."
"We are?"
"Yup."
"Dad's going to let you… I mean us go on a hunt now?"
Dean scowled at the younger man's slip up, his reply coming out in a hiss, "Looks like."
Sam was confused, in fact he was beyond confused as he ran a hand through his hair trying to compute the information his brain had just been given, his insides immediately twisting into an array of large uncomfortable knots. Something about this just didn't seem right to him. "Did he uh wake you before he left? What time did he leave?"
"He left a note, I saw it when I got up…"
"Can I see it?"
"I threw it out."
"You threw it out?"
"Yeah…"
"Why would you throw it out."
Dean shrugged again swallowing down the lump that had formed out of no where in his throat, he hated lying to Sam, it always made him feel completely icky on the inside. "I figured I'd relay the message."
"Oh…" Sam tried not to sound as suspicious as he currently way rubbing his chin a little. "I see…"
"I'm sorry, if I would have known it was a valuable possession for you to hold on to I wouldn't have tossed it." Dean attempted to cover up his discomfort with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes.
"No, it's not that…"
"Well then what is it?"
"I just I don't see why you threw it out if it was a note to US is all…"
"Well I did so get over it and get your shit ready." Dean rose slow and unsteadily to his feet gripping his walker and making his way toward the back of the house, "I'm gonna shower I smell worse than an old guy in a porn shop."
"Alright…" Sam watched his brother disappear down the hall and into the bathroom before taking out his cell phone and flipping it open. Any other time he would have taken Dean's word and done as he was told, but something about all of this seemed wrong. Why would his dad let them… Let Dean hunt when he could barely walk? Why would he risk throwing away his son's life like that?
Quietly he stepped outside the apartment and leaned against the wall as the other line began to ring.
"'ello?" Came the gruff and deep voice that Sam immediately recognized as heir family friend Bobby.
"Hey Bobby, it's Sam… is my dad there with you?"
"Hey Sammy.. Yeah he's here hold on." Bobby's voice became muffled as Sam heard him call out something that he couldn't quite understand.
So far Dean had been telling the truth, that was a good sign… or a bad sign… Depending on how Sam decided to look at it.
"Sam." John's voice cut into his self argument, "Are you on the road yet?"
"So you do want us to come there then?"
"Us?" John frowned a little even though he could not be seen, "Didn't you get my note?"
"No, Dean was up before me, he got it, told me you wanted us to come out there something about a group of savage demons?"
"Damn-it." John cursed under his breath, "I should of known he would try to pull something like this."
"Something like what? Dad what are you talking about?"
"I thought you would be the one to get the note, I didn't ask for both of you to come here… I asked for you to come… Bobby and I can't handle this one on our own, we need all the man power we can get, you know these things they travel in packs of eight to twelve, and the only way to kill them is a…"
"blessed bullet through the heart." Sam finished for him, suddenly everything he had seen that morning made sense…. The wheel chair, the gun, the cocky grins and of course the bucket full of lies. Dean was definitely putting up one hell of a façade.
"Yeah."
"Sneaky bastard." Sam mumbled to himself popping his neck,
"Huh?"
"Nothing… I'll be there soon alright?"
"Your brother, he uh, he can't come…. having him out there is going to do us more harm then good right now…." John sighed a little, he knew his son and Dean was not going to like this situation in the slightest, but he had already almost lost him once, he was not going to go through that again.
"I know. I'll take care of it."
Sam hung up the phone and leaned heavier against the wall closing his eyes, he hated the thought of leaving Dean alone, he hated the thought of hunting without him, it felt like… like half of him was missing, like he wasn't safe without his brother watching his back. But John was right, Dean couldn't fight yet, he wasn't ready… Hell he wasn't anywhere near ready…. And he was just going to have to understand.
Making his way back into the house he grabbed his duffel bag and began tossing things into it as he heard the shower shut off. Dean was still using a shower chair so that there was less risk of him falling and hurting himself. It also helped the stubborn and pigheaded older brother feel more independent, something that in the long run made all of them feel better.
How was Sam going to do this, how was he going to look his brother in the eyes and force him to stay? How was he going to win a battle he didn't even know how to fight with a man twice as stubborn as he ? As he threw the last shirt into his bag his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dean's voice coming down the hall growing closer and closer with each word.
"Sam? You about ready? Or am I going to have to figure out how to drive the car on my own and leave your ass here?"
Sam drew in as much of a breath as he could muster and looked up just in time to see his brother appear in the doorway. Dean's body immediately slumped against the door frame and it was easy to see just how tired he was, how much the simple fifteen steps from the bathroom had taken from him.
"You're not going." He said simply unable to come up with any way to sugar coat it.
"What?"
"I talked to dad, and well… You're not going."
"Sam… That's ridiculous. Of course I'm going. There is no way you are going on a hunt without me to back you up."
"Dean. There is no room for argument here, Dad says you're not going, I say you're not going so…"
Dean growled angrily and took a step into the room, "Sam, you have no right to…" His words were cut short when as if on cue he tripped himself and began to fall forward toward the carpet his walker teetering but thankfully not falling over.
Sam jumped forward and gripped him around the waist instinctively.
"I GOT IT!" Dean growled pushing his brother off of him, appearing weak and fragile at this moment in time was not going to help his case any as he snarled. "Get off me"
"Dean, you can't, I mean you can't even walk ten feet without getting tired and tripping… Your right leg isn't even mobile… You're only going to get in the-" Sam swallowed watching as pain immediately flashed in his brother's gaze before being replaced with anger…
"I'm only going to what Sam? Going to get in the way?"
"I didn't mean…"
"Yes you did."
"Come on Dean, you have to be reasonable about this…"
"I've been hunting since I was a child Sam, it's second nature to me!"
"Yeah maybe, but you've also spent the last nine months of your life in a wheelchair, like it or not… right now… You're not capable of hunting, you are a human being and there are limitations."
"Don't give me that crap." Dean spat out his jaw locking, he knew his brother was right, somewhere inside of him, he knew that he couldn't do this, that there was no way in hell he would survive a hunt in his current condition… But he didn't care, he was Dean Winchester for Christ sakes, he was born to hunt, born to battle. And no one was going to tell him he couldn't.
"I'm not going to risk you going out there and getting yourself killed just so you can prove your macho man dude, it's not happening I'm sorry."
"How are you going to stop me?"
Sam sighed audibly and shook his head with a grunt before picking his brother up and hoisting him on to the bed.
"Sam?! What the hell are you doing?!?!" Dean's face twisted in mortification as he felt himself being picked up and tossed on to the bed, "This is not funny, what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"I'm leaving." He stated bluntly tipping the walker over with his foot as he threw his duffel bag over his shoulder.
"Sam." Dean scorned his eyes angry as his brother turned to head for the door and he was left sitting helplessly in the center of a bed that wasn't even his own.
"Dad and I should be back in like two days max…"
"You can't do this to me Sam…"
"You've given me no choice Dean." Sam stopped walking but didn't dare turn around, didn't dare look his brother in the eyes, he just had to keep telling himself that this was the right thing to do.
"How the hell am I supposed to get down?"
"You'll find a way. I'm gonna call the hospital as soon as I leave and have them deliver a new chair… try not to take this one apart while were gone. I swear you're more stubborn than dad."
"Sam."
"There is plenty of food in the fridge, so you won't go hungry…."
"DAMN-IT don't you walk away from me." Dean picked up one of the pillows behind him and threw it in the direction of his brother smacking him in the back of the head hard.
Sam didn't even flinch as he began walking again, "Good bye Dean, call if you need anything."
"I hate you:"
"I know." Sam called back before closing the front door, locking a frustrated and angry Dean inside.
"Son of a bitch." Dean cursed loudly hearing the soft click of the door and pounding his fists into the mattress.
What the hell was he supposed to do now….
Catching the phone on his brother's night stand out of the corner of his eye he scooted closer to the edge of the bed and reached for it dialing a familiar number and clearing his throat as he listened to it begin to ring.
"Hey it's Dean…." He said seconds later into the receiver crossing his fingers that this was going to work. "I need a favor."
EHHHHHHHHHHHH I hate it, but as usual I hope you guys enjoyed it, and thank you so much for your replies to the last chapter, and to answer your questions to where Sam was… I wanted there to be a bit of John Dean so Sam sat that one out.