Author's Note: Okay, guys…I realize that I left you hanging on the last chapter and I just couldn't let you suffer, so here is the next chapter. I'm sad to say that there is only one more chapter to go after this…I think this calls for a group hug…
As always, I deeply appreciate the comments and kind words you have left for me. To have this kind of encouragement does wonders for an author, especially when they're never sure how readers will respond to what they are writing.
Oh, and the alerts have not been going out like they are supposed to, so if you haven't read Chapter 9, you may want to do that before you go into this one.
Please let me know what you think!
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Dean was a loser—a big sore loser. It was bad enough he lost a poker game—six to be exact—but the fact he'd lost them to a woman was just so much worse for him. It wasn't that he was saying a woman couldn't play poker—hell, he'd met his fair share of women who could hold their own against him. But Alicia? He never would have guessed the sweet, soft-spoken girl from Alabama would have been able to clean up so quickly.
"I should have warned you," she said sheepishly. "My dad taught me to play when I was young."
"That would have been nice to know."
"Hey, at least we weren't playing for money."
Dean winced as he watched her pop a red candy into her mouth and then turned his gaze onto the pile of rainbow-colored candy sitting in front of her. No, they hadn't been playing for money, it was worse—he'd been foolish enough to wager his entire Peanut M&M's stash, his one pleasure in life. And now he was forced to sit there and watch as Alicia devoured every bit of his guilty pleasure.
"I'm starting to wish it was money," Dean admitted with a sigh. "Then I wouldn't have to sit here and watch you eat it."
Alicia laughed. "Wow, you really are a sore loser!"
"Hey, I worked hard for that candy," Dean protested And he wasn't lying—pool hustling required great skill and finesse, both of which came easily to the hunter. "It's the only way I spoil myself."
"And I'm sure you can scrape up a couple of dollars and buy yourself a new bag tomorrow." She popped a green one into her mouth to emphasize her point.
"That still leaves me without any for tonight."
"You'll get over it." Alicia smirked. "I guess next time you won't be so cocky and try to bluff your way through every hand."
Dean shook his head. "There won't be a next time with you."
Alicia just shrugged and popped another candy into her mouth. Dean thought she was getting way too much pleasure out of torturing him. Luckily, the torture stopped when her cell phone began to chirp and she reached behind her to dig it out of her purse.
"Hey, Mollie…yeah, honey, I'm going to be there soon…No, I didn't forget I promised to take you to see the Christmas lights…I'm going to be there in a couple of hours…Yes, I have presents for you…Okay, I'll see you in a bit, sweetie."
She flipped her phone closed and smiled apologetically at Dean. "That was my kid sister. She was wondering when I was coming."
"It's no problem," Dean said. "Look, you don't have to keep me company any more if you need to go."
Alicia waved a dismissive hand. "I can stick around for a little while longer."
"I appreciate all you've done, Alicia, I really do." He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I actually can't remember the last time I've gotten to sit and just relax and talk."
"You looked like you could use a friend." She squeezed his hand back.
"Go home to your family, Alicia. That's what Christmas is about."
"What about you?"
Dean looked over at Sam, letting a faint smile play on his lips. "I have my family right here."
Alicia nodded and stood up, gathering her winnings and sweeping them into her purse. Dean looked up at her, slightly appalled, but she just shrugged and grinned. "Hey, I won them fair and square. Besides, I need something to tide me over on the drive home." She grabbed her coat and shrugged it on.
"Be careful."
Alicia leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Everything will be okay, Dean. From what you told me, Sam is a fighter. You just have to have a little faith in him." She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and handed it to Dean. "That's my cell number. Call me and let me know about Sam and any time you want to talk."
Dean looked at the number and smiled. "Thank you."
Alicia nodded and walked towards the door. "Merry Christmas, Dean."
"Merry Christmas." He watched the door close behind her and walked over to Sam's bed. "You hear that, kid? She wants me to call her and let her know about you. Only way I can do that is if you open up those puppy dog eyes of yours. Come on, Geek Boy. Time to rise and shine."
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"What are we doing back here?" Sam glanced around his hospital room, confused. He saw Dean was perched in the chair next to the bed, staring at him. He saw discarded food containers filled the small trashcan and a deck of cards were sitting on the small table.
"I told you I was going to show you what happened if you chose not to continue with Dean," Layla said softly.
Sam walked to the other side of the bed and studied his brother, a small smile on his face. "He looks at peace."
"Looks can be deceiving, Sam. He's very troubled."
"About what?"
"About you. About what will happen if you don't wake up, what will happen if he no longer has you in his life. He's hurting inside because he doesn't know how he'll continue without you."
"But it's Dean…he'll figure it out. He'll learn to move on."
Layla shook her head. "No, he won't, Sam. He's had you in his life for the past twenty-three years. He doesn't know any other way to live. He's had the same routine everyday—get up, protect you, go to sleep. It's his life. If you take yourself away from him, you'll take away his life."
"So you're saying if I don't wake up and stay with Dean, he'll die?"
Layla didn't answer.
"How? When?" Sam didn't like to hear Dean's life hinged on his decision to live or die. He didn't like to know he was responsible for holding his brother's life in the palm of his hand. That was crazy to him—no one's life should be decided like that, especially not Dean's.
"I see you're conflicted by this."
"You think?" Sam scoffed, brows rising under his bangs. "You're basically telling me that I hold Dean's life in my hands. And really, no matter what I decide, he's screwed—he'll die no matter what I decide."
"Everyone dies, Sam. For one to live, another must die—that's the basic fact of life. So, yes, Dean will eventually die, but let it be doing something he loves…protecting you, his baby brother."
A full moon illuminated the night and he could see millions of star dotting the sky. A light snow was starting to fall and while that sight should have been relaxing, it did nothing to calm the young psychic's nerves.
"I don't know what I want, Layla." He turned around and noticed she was no longer in the room. "Layla? Layla?"
All of a sudden a steady beep filled the room. Sam looked over to see Dean jump from his seat and clutch his hand. Sam's eyes darted to the heart monitor and saw there was no steady thump of a pulse. He was dying…he was actually watching himself die.
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"Sam! Sammy!" Dean patted his brother's face, but wasn't getting any response. "Don't do this to me, man! Not now!"
Dean frantically pressed the CALL button and then ran to the door, flinging it open. Even as he heard the "Code Blue" page ringing out on the PA system, he still screamed. "Somebody, get me some help in here! I need help!"
The throng of footsteps heading towards him did nothing to alleviate his fears. He allowed the nurses and Doctor Stewart to push past him as they rushed to Sam's bedside. Dean walked to the edge of the bed. "Please, you have to help him…"
"Sir, if you want us to help your brother, you're going to have to stay back."
Dean nodded numbly as he was pushed away from the bed. He tuned out the commotion in the room and concentrated on his thoughts. Sammy…Sammy was dying right before his eyes. Sammy was being taken away from him again. But it wouldn't be for only two years this time, it would be forever. Forever without Sammy, his kid brother, his trusty Geek Boy.
Dean felt the tears flowing down his cheeks and he did nothing to brush them away as he watched the medical staff frantically work to save his kid brother's life. Come on, Sammy, you have to keep on living. You have to fight—fight for me.
He felt his body go completely numb as the doctor shook his head and pulled off his gloves. No! Doctor Stewart lifted his sleeve and glanced at his watch. No! No!
Doctor Stewart let out a long sigh and glanced over at Dean sadly. No! "Time of death—11:37 P.M."
NOOOOO!
"I am deeply sorry, Mr. Richards." He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed it sympathetically.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he shrugged off the doctor's hand and ran from the room. He couldn't accept this, couldn't accept the fact Sammy had been taken away from him. His Sammy was gone—an innocent, beautiful life had been ripped away without any thoughts of what it meant to him.
Opening a door, Dean took the steps two at a time. The effort burned his lungs, but he barely felt it. Nothing could take away the pain, nothing could possibly make him feel better in that moment. There was nothing that could be done. Dean could only feel the pain and rage burning deep inside of him like he'd never felt before.
He burst through another door and the cold December night air embraced him. He ran to the middle of the roof and fell to his knees, the tears flowing steadily. There was no stopping them, he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. He was mourning his loss and if he wiped them away, it would be as if he was wiping Sammy away and he wasn't ready to do that. Not now, now ever.
"WHY?" he screamed up to the heavens. "WHY HIM, HUH? WHAT DID HE EVER DO? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME?"
Nothing would return his answer.
"He was too young. He didn't deserve to die. Not now, not when I need him so much. I never got to tell him how much I needed him, what he meant to me. You've taken everything from me now. I have nothing left that I can give you."
Dean felt a moment of clarity raining down on him. He knew what he had to do, knew how he could get Sammy back. Rising slowly to his feet, he made his way towards the edge of the roof. It was only seven stories, but it would have the desired effect. It would be enough for him to let go of the pain that seemed to be suffocating him and be free. He'd already been given two chances to beat death and he was more than sure he wouldn't be given a third reprieve.
Stepping up onto the ledge, Dean Winchester felt at peace. For the first time in his life, he felt free, as if he wasn't burdened with guilt and the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt he could be happy for once in his life and all it required was for him to take a step off the roof.
One thought penetrated his mind as he stepped over the edge.
I'm coming home to you, Sammy…
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Please don't kill me…runs and hides for cover