Not Like This – Chapter 6
Dean pulled the Impala to a halt and shook Sam gently by the shoulder. His brother stirred, stretching awkwardly and opening his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight "What..?"
"Haul ass – Sammy – we're here"
Sam stared out of the window at the building in front of him. It wasn't the usual scummy motel that they stayed in but a smart, two storey, white fronted building with carefully mowed lawns and an ornamental fountain in the lobby "Dean – what the hell?" Sam watched as Dean got out of the car and began to unpack their bags "We can't afford…." His voice trailed off as Dean shot him a similar look to the one he had received earlier when he had been retching by the roadside. It was a definite 'Don't fuck with me' look and Sam, after years of being on the receiving end of such looks, knew when to keep his mouth shut. He got out of the car, his limbs shaking and weak. God he felt awful, hardly any better than he had before his hospital stay. His head still hurt and he felt sick and tired, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Dean took the bags and gestured that Sam follow him. The Receptionist at the desk looked up as they entered and Sam could virtually see the disgust on that over-made up face as Dean slammed his back pack on the desk "Reservations for Mr Gunn" he reached in his pocket and Sam caught the flash of gold – shit – they were using the good stuff then. He bit back a groan as his head began to thud; Dean was taking the keys from the falsely smiling woman and pocketing the card again; Sam watched, feeling detached and fuzzy, wondering if he could stay awake long enough to appreciate the luxury of the hotel.
The room was bright, clean and comfortable looking with a huge bathroom and two king sized beds. Sam flopped down on the first one and closed his eyes, not even bothering to undo his boots or take off his jacket. He was barely aware of his surroundings by now and just wanted to go into the darkness and, possibly, stay there. He could, however, sense Dean's presence in the room and the thought that his big brother was watching over him made him feel safer than he felt he had a right to.
The most wonderful scent pervaded Sam's nostrils and he shifted, his mouth watering. He opened one eye carefully, aware that it was dark now and that the room was filled with dim, but comforting, artificial light. He gingerly stretched out his arms and was pleasantly surprised to find that they no longer ached; his head felt better too and his stomach was no longer rolling, in fact it was actually growling, the scent in the room making him giddy with hunger.
"Are you gonna join us Princess?" Dean sat on the edge of his bed and touched his shoulder "Food's getting cold and we don't wanna waste it"
Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed and groaned. He did feel better, stiff and grubby, but better. He shrugged off his jacket and swiftly washed his hands, hunger suddenly more important than being clean.
Sam stared at the carefully laid out table and wondered, briefly, just how much room service in a place like this cost. The table was laden with food, steak, fried onions, fried potatoes, corn and crusty bread. Sam hadn't realised just how hungry he was until he took his first mouthful of tenderly cooked meat and then he couldn't stop, shovelling the food into his mouth much to his brother's silent amusement.
It didn't take long before he felt full and replete, sitting back and rubbing his hand, absently, across his stomach. Dean watched him, his green eyes sharp, his expression unreadable "You feeling better now?" his brother asked
"MMM" Sam wiped a palm across his mouth and sighed "Much"
"Ok – get your jacket back on – we're going for a walk"
"Walk?"
"Yeah you know Sammy – fresh air – one foot in front of the other"
"I'm not sure Dean" he bit back a yawn "I'm feeling kind of sleepy again"
"Walk Sam" Dean had that look again and Sam sighed, rising to his feet, relishing in the fullness of his gut and the sudden warmth flooding through his veins
"Ok Dean" he put his jacket back on and followed his brother.
The hotel had its own grounds and they were beautiful. It was a cold, calm evening and the sky was clear and full of stars. The whole world seemed bathed in silver moonlight and Sam couldn't help but wonder how something so lovely could often seem so tainted with evil. He breathed in the fresh air, relishing in the scent of it, so different from the stale disinfectant and sickness that pervaded every inch of the hospital.
"Good" he was aware of Dean standing very close to him and he nodded
"Yeah – it's great" Sam realised that he didn't actually hurt anymore and that the tiredness he was feeling was a welcome one; one not brought about by tension and sickness "Thanks Dean"
"If you feel like this after one day and half a night here, just imagine how a good long vacation might feel" Dean's face was hidden in the darkness but his voice was firm
"Dean you know..." Sam turned to his brother, gripping his shoulders tightly "You know that we can't"
"Damn it Sam!" Dean closed his own hands over Sam's and pulled them away, shaking his brother "You need to rest – we need to rest" he flashed a grin "I tell you what – how about we make a deal?"
"What sort of deal Dean?"
"How about we take a break until your hair grows back" Dean's eyes glittered in the moonlight and Sam stared at him, aghast
"That could take months Dean! Fucking years" he could feel himself shaking "I need to carry on hunting – I need to save as many people as I can Dean – if I don't then you are going to have to kill me"
"You don't know that Sam" Dean's eyes seemed over bright in the darkness, pools of silver reflecting in his pupils "You don't know anything – dad might have been right but he might have been fucking wrong – he wasn't infallible you know"
"I know – but "Sam was still reeling from Dean's statement – fuck – that was the second time he had heard his brother bad mouth his father and it still struck him dumb – to Dean his dad had always been a hero, someone who should be obeyed without question and yet now – now Dean was seeing fault with his dad – and Sam couldn't really comprehend it "But I need to do it Dean"
"Sam – please" Dean sounded desperate, pleading and Sam had never heard him use that tone before "You nearly got yourself blown to bits by Gordon – you tried to drink yourself into a stupor – and in the hospital you nearly fucking died" he gripped Sam's face, bringing it up close to him so that he could look directly into his eyes "I don't want little bits of you Sam – I don't want to bring you home in a fucking body bag – ok so you might turn evil and I might have to kill you – but we don't know that – just get it through your stubborn and fucking stubbly head – I don't want to lose you Sam – I – I – for god's sake Sammy – I fucking love you"
And Sam had no real answer for that. TBC