A/N: :) Thanks for the reviews guys! I love 'em! I didn't want to update while the alerts were down but it looks like they're going to be down for awhile and I just couldn't be bothered waiting anymore so I hope that the length and content of this chapter makes for the wait. Please review to let me know that I didn't make a mistake by posting while the alerts are down
Chapter Eleven
Things in the Winchester world seemed to be picking up by the third week at Missouri's place. John and Sam, although not as close as they once were had reformed a good father son relationship. Missouri had become kind of like a mother figure to everyone and even put John back in his place every now and then. She must have been the only person on the face of this planet that Sam had ever seen his father actually take orders from. It gave Sam amusement to no end.
Dean had been getting better as well. He was eating more and seemed to be more trusting as the surroundings were becoming more familiar to him. Missouri's gentle ways seemed to be getting through to him somewhat. He was healing nicely now too and only took the Vicodin at night to help him sleep. He just generally seemed to be getting better, he wasn't so tense around everyone, being Sam, John and Missouri seeing as he hadn't left the house since he arrived, anymore. Sam had even caught a glimpse of a small smile when Missouri had been telling of their father the other day.
However on the twenty-third night at Missouri's it all went to shit.
Sam had been lightly resting on his cot, just thinking about Stanford and how he wished that he had made the effort to stay in contact with his brother while he had been away, when he heard movement coming from the other bed.
Knowing that it was one of his brother's now frequent nightmares, Sam got up and slowly made his was to the side of the double bed where Dean was thrashing, tangled in his sheets.
"It's okay Dean. You're safe here. Just wake up bro. No ones gonna hurt you.' Sam cooed gently trying to get his brother to wake up without touching him because even though Dean had been slowly improving, he still refused to be touched.
Dean's breathing was heavy and he was covered in a film layer of sweat when his eyes shot open. As soon as Sam saw his brother's eyes open he was just about to take a step back so he was out of his brother's personal space when Dean started screaming. Sam's heart was beating so fast in shock and fear that he was surprised it didn't beat right out of his ribcage.
Sam didn't know whether to step back or grab a hold of his brother. For god's sake Dean hadn't uttered a word or made a sound since he had awoken in the hospital and here he was, wide eyed and sitting straight up in bed screaming at the top of his lungs.
The hoarse screams stopped almost a suddenly as they had started and Dean moved so fast Sam didn't know what hit him. One second his brother was sitting on bed, the next he was hanging half off the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around Sam's waist and his head burrowed into Sam's chest sobbing.
Taken aback it took Sam only a moment to realize his brother had gotten over his no speak, no touch rule and was crying and hugging him openly, before he wrapped his arms around Dean's shaking shoulders.
"Sam, I tried- I couldn't- I can't- I'm- Oh god!" He stuttered in between huge shuddering intakes of breath, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh god please no. I'm so sorry!" he gasped, his voice hoarse and raw from not being used in so long, muffled by his baby brother's chest.
John came running into the room, rifle in hand and eyes ablaze followed closely by Missouri who was wearing her hot pink nightgown (the one covered with pink and red lips and the words 'hot stuff' which had amused Sam and John to no end), both having been apparently woken by Dean's screams.
The oldest Winchester took a few seconds to survey the room looking for the cause of his son's distress before his eyes fell onto his boys. Dean clinging to his little brother like a life line and crying so hard he was hyperventilating and Sam who had his arms just as firmly around his big brother and was rubbing small circles on the elder's back while muttering words of comfort in an attempt to calm him down.
Out of everyone in the room Missouri was the only one who was not shocked by this sudden turn of events as she quickly made her way from the doorway, to the kitchen to collect a paper bag and then back again before anyone had even moved.
Pushing past John who still stood in the doorway frozen by the sight in front of him, Missouri gently handed the bag to Sam and told him to get his brother to breath into it before he passed out.
Sam tenderly pulled Dean away from him enough to place the bag over his brother's mouth and nose, "Breathe Dean. We've got you now. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe. That's it just breathe.' Sam spoke softly to his brother, keeping a steady hand on his shoulder and watching the bag inflate and deflate with Dean's ragged breathing.
Before he knew it John was at Dean's other side also encouraging his son to take deep breaths, in and out. In and out. When Dean's breathing had evened out to a more normal rate, the middle Winchester closed his eyes and leant back into his brother and father's warm and safe embrace. He knew where he was now and he knew he was safe. It had almost been like he hadn't been in his body for the last five weeks and had only just come back into himself now. The last five weeks were kind of like a blurry dream. Feeling the two most important people in his life next to him he relaxed completely.
"Thank you." He whispered softly and let his consciousness drift from him, exhausted from his breakdown.
"Sam what happened?" John asked as they gently eased the sleeping Dean back into a lying position on his bed. He ran a rough hand over his two day old beard and looked expectantly at his youngest.
The younger hunter didn't take his eyes off his older brother and kept his hand securely on Dean's arm. In all truth he didn't know what the hell had just happened, he was still in shock, "He had a nightmare." Sam exhaled.
"And?" the elder Winchester asked. He had already guessed that seeing as every time his son fell asleep he was plagued with vicious nightmares.
"And when he woke up he started screaming. Then he just snapped and started crying and holding onto me for dear life."
"Did he say anything?"
"Not really, just rambled that he was sorry. I don't know what he thinks he has to be sorry for here. He's the victim in all this."
John nodded his head in agreement. His son was the victim. God, Dean Winchester a victim. He had never thought he would hear the day when his son's name and victim would be put together in that context. It just sounded dirty. John looked up at Missouri when the psychic reentered the room carrying a tray that had a pot of coffee and some mugs upon it, "Missouri do you know what happened?" he asked his old friend.
"I'm not quite sure, but I think his walls have finally fallen down. From what I've been able to pick up from Dean these last few weeks he's been in a kind of dream state. You see when 'it' happened he built these mental walls and retreated behind them, it was his way of coping. He kind of escaped his body. So now that his walls have come down he's awoken back into himself," she explained as she gave the hunters some fresh coffee. She looked down sympathetically at Dean and rested her hand lightly on his forehead, "The poor boy is so lost. He's only just realized what happened to him."
Sam audibly gulped. Dean just woke up? Well it did kind of make sense now that he thought about it. Dean had seemed kind of dreamy, for lack of a better word, since 'it' happened. In fact Sam had watched the walls go up, had seen it in his brother's eyes when had awoken to that god awful sight in that goddamned room. He couldn't help but worry if his brother would wake up again with his walls rebuilt or what? The broken Dean he had just dealt with? Or maybe his normal cocky Dean? Yeah he could wish. That and wait. All he could do now was wait.
Dean slept for the next eight hours with John and Sam by his side, keeping quiet vigil to see what would happen when Dean awoke.
The sudden sharp intake of breath from the person lying on the bed bought two sets of worried eyes to him. Dean opened his eyes slowly and was met with the concerned face of his little brother Sam.
"Sammy? Wha? Where am I?" he asked groggily and winced as his hoarse voice seemed to catch in his throat. Dean bought his hand up to his face and rubbed the sleep of his eyes. Man he had a killer headache and his eyes hurt like a bitch.
"Dean?" Sam asked cautiously. His heart was in his throat at how normal his brother seemed to be acting, well even if he was a bit disorientated.
"No, it's fucking Santa Claus." Dean quipped as Sam came fully into focus. His mind was fuzzy and he felt tingly all over like he had been badly hurt but was almost healed. And his Dad was there and was that Missouri he had heard?
Sam let out a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through and launched himself at his brother for a hug. Even the mighty John had an ear to ear grin.
Dean tensed at the unexpected action and as he put his arms around his little brother's shaking shoulders, the events of those few days flashed before his eyes and he knew why Sam was latched onto him so hard.
"Oh god Dean I thought I lost you." Sam muttered between quiet sobs. Dean's Santa Claus remark had been so Dean that it had ripped down any of the defenses that he had constructed over the last five weeks. His brother was back! His Dean was there in his arms and he sure as hell wasn't about to let go. Not for the world.
"Sam," Dean wheezed. His little brother was holding his so tight he couldn't breathe properly and his ribs were hurting. Sam only tightened his arms at his brother's words so Dean tried again, "Sam. Air!" he said a little more insistently tapping Sam on the back to enunciate his point.
Sam let go of Dean so fast he almost toppled off the bed, "Oh god Dean. I hurt you! I'm so sorry." He stuttered. He had hurt Dean. His brother had just gotten back to himself and he had hurt him! 'Idiot Sam you moron you know he's still recovering from his injuries!'
Recognizing the look of guilt setting into his little brother's eyes Dean did his best to smile, "Sam its fine. You always did have a strong grip on you." He half joked. Sam didn't look to convinced so Dean tried again, "I'm fine." He paused for a minute and then spoke, "Well I will be once I have a shower."
---
Dean entered the bathroom, closed the door and leant back against it breathing hard. Now that there were no people around for him to hold his façade up for, he completely collapsed in on himself. Panting to keep from screaming at what had happened to him, he slid down the door to the ground and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the images.
Oh god, how the hell could he have let that happen to him?! And Sam, his little brother had been hurt because he had let his fear get the best of him. You're only human. Yeah well, Dean Winchester didn't have time to be human. People lives relied on him and here he was wallowing in his own self pity.
Pulling himself shakily to his feet Dean stumbled over to the sink. He held onto it as he looked into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale beneath the still fading bruises and the short beard he had grown over the last five weeks. Obviously because no one had dared to come near him with a razor. Probably was a good thing too or he most likely would have tried to take them out or had a fit trying to get away.
Dean shook his head to try and get rid of his thoughts. He turned on the cold water, leant down and splashed some on his face. The cold water felt refreshing against his dry skin and he savored the feeling it gave him. Dean took in a deep shuddering breath and raised to look back into the mirror. His eyes widened in horror when instead of his reflection he was faced with the image of his attacker.
"Hey Deannie. Miss me?" the image asked in his sardonic voice that sent shivers down the hunters back.
The hunter shook his head in denial. Nonononononono this wasn't happening. Oh god he was losing his mind.
"You know they think you're weak. They don't love you and they're sick of you Deannie. You're a burden to them. If it wasn't for you Sammy and John would be happy." His attacker hissed.
"NO!" Dean screamed, raised his fist and punched the mirror as hard as he could. He pulled his hand back which was bloody, broken and had shards of mirror imbedded deep into it. The hunter held his now injured hand to his chest, unaware of his blood dripping to the floor, and kept his eyes placed firmly to the shattered mirror.
The sound of his father and little brother yelling at him to open the door whilst banging on it bought him out of his shocked stupor. Taking another quick glance at the bloody smashed mirror he turned and flicked the lock on the bathroom door, letting his brother and father enter the room like two angry bulls.
Sam took in the destruction of the bathrooms mirror and then his older brother who stood back, one bloody hand clutched protectively to his chest, pale and shaking like he had just seen a ghost. Then again if Dean had just seen a ghost, considering their line of work he shouldn't be so freaked out about it. Hesitant to touch the older man Sam spoke gently and kept a respectful distance, "Dean? Are you okay?"
Dean nodded his head and Sam's heart almost broke at the thought that his brother had reverted back to his no speak, no touch rule.
"Show me your hand son." John said stepping forward in an authoritative manner. The younger hunter held out his hand and John grimaced at the pieces of glass protruding from his sons hand, "Dean what happened?" the older Winchester asked.
Dean had never liked to lie to his family but right now he felt like he was losing his mind. Damn it he was weak and he had been a burden on his family. Well he wasn't going to be one anymore. It stopped now, "I, um, I must have slipped. Sorry." He mumbled.
John didn't say anything just nodded his head and left the room to the first aid kit. He knew his son was lying to him. Hell it didn't take a genius to know that. Not only had Dean's general demeanor been unconvincing but there was the mirror that had been broken, then pattern of the mirror and pieces in his sons hand, well, he had broken enough mirrors in the same way to know what it looked like.
Sam gently moved Dean to sit on the closed toilet forgetting his earlier hesitation. His brother obviously wasn't coping, "Dean what happened?" he asked, repeating his father's question in the hope that his brother would answer it truthfully for him.
"Nothing. I'm fine Sam. Hey can you do me a favor?" Dean asked, taking back control of the situation as much as he could.
"Yeah?"
"Go get me some of those painkillers the doctors had me on would you?" he looked to his hand when Sam gave him a quizzical look. Sam got the gist and quickly made his way his way down the hall to what he had come to call 'their room'. He grabbed the Vicodin bottle and shook out a few pills. His brother's system had been gradually upping his tolerance to the pills and Sam was trying to wean him off the painkillers because of the fear that Dean would get addicted to them.
When he got back into the bathroom Missouri was there and he felt a pang of guilt for her. Poor thing had taken them in only to have her mirror broken. John was also there, kneeling in front of his son and expertly removing the pieces of mirror from Dean's hand.
Dean hissed when a particularly vicious piece was extracted, "I'm really sorry Missouri. I'll get you a new one." He offered with a small smile. Sure he knew that his father and brother knew he was lying about the mirror, they'd have to be really dense to not pick up on his crappy lie, and if there was one thing that Sam and John Winchester were not, it was dense. However he got the feeling that Missouri knew exactly what had happened and he begged her silently not to tell his brother of father.
Missouri nodded her head so slightly that only he caught it and he gave her a genuine smile to thank her.
"Here." Sam said as he handed Dean the pills, who swallowed them dry even though his throat hurt like a bitch.
"Thanks." Dean hissed when his father prodded his hand again and pulled a few more smaller pieces of mirror out of the deep cuts with tweezers.
"You're lucky this doesn't need stitches son." John muttered as he took out some gauze and wrapped his eldest son's hand up. It was times like these that he thanked his marine days for the triage he had learned.
"You know what?" Dean asked the concerned people who were stating, "I could really go for a huge piece of American red meat." He smirked. All he had to do was keep his façade up long enough to keep his family off his back and then until he was own again where he could drop it. Preferably somewhere alone so he could scream himself hoarse. Because that's what he wanted to do, scream himself into oblivion. Scream and cry. Because fuck, he felt so used and broken he was afraid that if anyone asked him if he was okay he would snap and break into a thousand tiny pieces.
The small group stared at the middle Winchester as if he was even more insane than he already thought he was. But whatever, screw them. Besides a huge piece of steak makes everything better. Yeah right, and his life is completely apple pie too.
When he realized no one was going to move he stood up, "Well I'm going. You want some food you can come too." He said before he walked out to go and get changed.
Sam moved first. He had recognized his brother's attempt to be strong in front of the people he loved and Sam knew he probably needed to do this. Rebuild the walls that had been so brutally torn down. He quickly got up and followed his brother into their shared room. Dean was sitting hunched over, arms resting on knees on his bed and staring at his hands. Sam's chest tightened at the image of his devil may care brother looking so tired, lost and defeated. He cleared his throat to let the older man know he had just entered the room.
Dean didn't look up or move an inch so Sam went and crouched on the floor in front of him, waiting for his brother to say something.
"Sam?" the older brother asked after a long while.
"Yeah Dean?"
"What, what happened after?" he asked, his voice so low Sam barely caught it.
"Umm, Dad came and got us after that bastard," he paused to clear his throat, "After he, you know." Sam watched his brother visibly shudder at his words but Dean had asked him a question and he was damn well going to answer him, "Dad killed him. Then we got you the hell out of there and to the hospital. You were a mess man. But you're fine now. You're going to be fine."
Dean inhaled deeply and on the exhale asked quietly, "Did they do the tests?" It was a thought that had just hit him on his way into their room. What if he had caught something from that bastard? He was pretty damn sure that his attacker hadn't used a condom.
Sam stared at Dean for a few seconds trying to make sense of the question he had been asked. Tests? What tests? Then his eyes widened as it clicked what his brother was trying to ask him and he hurriedly answered the waiting man, "Yeah they did Dean. You're all fine. You don't have anything. Well as far as I can tell you're still your normal annoying self but besides from that you're fine." Sam joked trying to make light of the dark convocation he had been pulled in.
The older man sighed in relief. That was a great weight off his shoulders and he thanked whoever was out there that he was fine in that regard. Running his hands over his face and through his hair Dean realized he hadn't had the chance to have his shower. He felt dirty since he 'awoke'. It wasn't a visible dirty, just a feeling of unseemliness, of being used and abused that he had the strong desire to be rid of. He looked up to meet Sam's worried and hopeful gaze and straightened his posture.
"Right. Shower then food okay Francis? Because I hope you weren't waiting for one of those lifetime moments because I can tell you right now that you're shit out of luck on that one. I've been there and done that enough so far. Besides I really need to shave. I'm starting to look like Dad." Dean smirked.
"Yeah you wish you could look half this good." Came a new yet unmistakable voice from the door. John was leaning against the door frame, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He had come in to hear the Dean he knew. The cocky, devil-may-care son he knew. He hadn't been able to resist replying to his son's comment which he obviously wasn't supposed to hear. God he had missed joking around with his oldest. Sammy just didn't have that kind of dark humor that the two older Winchester's harnessed and used in the dark times to get them through.
Dean's head spun towards the door and he could see the light in his father's normally dark eyes. They needed this, both John and Sam needed to see that he was doing okay. And when had he ever denied them anything, "I don't know," he drawled, "You're getting a bit scruffy there old man." He chuckled.
"I'll have you know that the ladies dig this look." John replied indignantly but the light tone was still present.
Sam's chest loosened at the banter and he grinned like an idiot. God he had seriously missed this. And as he watched Dean push playfully past John who ruffled his hair he thought to himself that, yeah maybe everything would turn out alright.
Please review and let me know what you thought because I was pretty worried about this chapter and what happens in it. Be assured that there will be plenty angst and plot still to come. So let me know what you thought ;) And fingers crossed that the alerts come back soon!
Mishka xXx