Hi! I hope someone is still out there, knock, knock. LOL
Anyway…so now that the holidays are over, and I've regained my senses (supposedly)…let's go back to business...I have Sam to 'save', darn it. And I can't believe that after so many stories that I've put on this site, I'm still so nervous when I put up another chapter or a story. God....it's really weird.
And I apologize for all grammar mistakes you're definitely gonna find!
Enjoy…
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Another thunder vibrated through the room making Sam close his eyes sluggishly, making the ochre ceiling darken slowly and escape under the darkness of his eyelids.
Thunder and lightning were never Sam's best friends; thunder made his chest ache for things he knew he would never have. And lightning…lightning illuminated things he really didn't want to see; like those sparks in Dean's eyes whenever he was hurting.
But darkness was much worse.
In the isolation of his closed eyes he could once again see the man lying on the floor, bloody, dirty and snarling at him, mocking him, telling him lies and wicked truths.
"Sam!!" fallowed by a touch of a strong hand on his shoulder; the heath coming from the open palm spread over the bone of his shoulder intensifying his shivers but at the same time the touch brought him back to the room, his eyes snapping open, making Dean retreat his hand like it was burned. And it was…with the dark brownness in Sam's eyes, thick eyelashes rubbing his brows.
"Sam? Ya with me?" he never thought his deep voice would ever be so soft again. But it was…not wanting to scare his brother, or interrupt the quiet of the room.
Sam didn't look at him, probably not even acknowledging his presence in the room. Which made everything worse…his little brother was awake, but not really present; he was staring at the ceiling, probably seeing nothing but that witch, he was lying so still, the only things moving were his chest and eyes. Drawing in breath and blinking.
"Sammy?" still keeping his voice in a whisper; not wanting to break the privacy the silence gave them.
Two quick thunders struck before Sam rotated his head to look at Dean. The rustling sound of Sam's hair on the pillow was the loudest thing the room heard in a while.
Fifty-three heart beats for him to look into Dean's eyes; Sam's eyes were pools of brownness and unshed tears.
Five quick breaths for Sam to blink and open his mouth, making a smacking noise with his lips.
"Thirsty?"
One lightning for a nod to come.
"Here."
Dean had a glass ready just in case. A glass of water, sitting on the night stand, probably leaving a permanent impression on the fake wood. It was standing there since…forever…the water in it probably warm and stale. But he didn't want to leave Sam's side to go fetch for fresh water, didn't want to leave the soft spot on Sam's bed.
He helped Sam sit up, one hand pulling at his arms; his grip slipping on Sam's sweaty skin and the other sneaking behind Sam's neck to settle lightly on his nape. The curly hair there was still damp, the skin still clammy and warm.
Sam gulped down the water like his life depended on it, and spilled some on his T-shirt, apologizing with his finger touching Dean's on the glass.
"Slow down or choke."
Sam coughed, probably out of laughter, but his lips never developed a full on smile.
The empty glass was placed on the night stand to be forgotten until the cleaning lady would come to clean up the room. One day when they'll be far, far away from this place.
"What happened?" Sam whispered over the ticklish noises of rain drops hitting the window.
His voice was thick and breaking, like it hadn't been used in ages. It startled Dean, the voice he hadn't heard in almost a day…a day…a voice speaking two simple words that in the rainy darkness made Dean's head spin.
What to say? How…to…say it? Truth? Lies? Breaking or fixing? Sam's mop of hair was hiding his eyes, but Dean could tell there were tears in them. Cold tears, salty and reflecting pain, he really didn't want to…he needed to fix it. The pain…he needed to make it better.
Where the Hell's Dad?
"A spell, Sam."
A thunder.
"I know that, I mean what happened?" breathless.
Okay, Sam is coherent, good, good…that's good. He knows?
"You know?"
"I…we were hunting a witch, Dean. It's kind of a given." Sam's fingers twitched on his chest, hand making a fist over his heart.
Okay?! What?!
"What?!"
The rain drops were slowly making their way down the window, casting shadows on the wall that looked like little thorns. Little thorns lodged in the walls...some shadows fell on Sam's hands, chest, face. It was like his skin was crying shadows of the rain drops.
"Witches curse people, you know."
"Ah, yeah I know." He raised his brows, but Sam made no indication that he wanted to continue that particular conversation.
"What happened? In the woods? Dean?"
Sam's eyes were burning pits of sadness...of need...of 'Dean please make it alright'.
"Ah, me and Dad," he paused, fighting with himself about how much he should say and how much he should just burry deep inside, "we went after the witch…she ran…we caught her…she…"
The flash of lightning that briefly illuminated Sam's face stopped Dean. Those shadows dispearsed quickly, showing Dean how pale Sam's skin was.
"Sam?"
"'m fine, just tell me."
It was anger and Dean understood. He did.
"Ah, well, we put her down. And then…you came."
Sam shivered, but not from the cold, because it was hot as Hell in the room. It was memories, it was reliving, it was…Sam's way of dealing, that send shivers up and down Sam's body.
Dean pulled in a deep breath: "Sam…why did you come? We told you to stay put."
One long thunder…the noise settled in the room…a thick presence of fear.
"I heard the gun and I…"
He slowly unclenched his fist and grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric until his knuckles turned white. He looked at Dean's chest, his eyes looking for that ninth patch of sweat that anchored him in the forest…a patch of sweat near Dean's heart…that wasn't there now.
"We told you to stay…"
He wasn't angry, wasn't trying to pick up a fight, wasn't trying to stress the kid out…he just wanted to understand what made Sam come.
"I couldn't, okay!" the voice broke the silence, and Dean thought he felt the room flinch, but it was just him, "I heard a shot, I heard two of them and…" two shots, two shots…one for you and one for Dad.
Dean left out the breath: "Okay…" I get it.
Sam closed his eyes again, slowly tuning out the ceiling and Dean's eyes that were burning into his. He wanted to block everything out, just…forget about it.
Now that he didn't have that ninth patch of sweat to concentrate on…he just wanted Dean to leave him alone.
One lightning later and his eyes were snapping open again. Dean's steady breathing was the noise that was lulling him into ideas, thoughts, images of the forest and that man. And he didn't want that…he wanted Dean to leave him alone…take his breathing and leave.
"I'm fine…just leave me alone."
The words hurt Dean more then any punch ever could. Leave me alone…simple words, three words, little words, but with a meaning so painful his heart skipped a beat.
"Sam?"
"I just want to sleep."
Rotating his body away from Dean, showing him his back, Sam hissed when the position pulled on his scrapes and bruises. He closed his eyes and the darkness pushed him into memories…into the forest, near the man…kneeling before him, Sam saw that he wasn't a man…it was a girl, a witch, laughing at him with shiny white teeth and red lipstick stuck on her lips. Like blood.
Dean knew the conversation was over. Sam is stubborn…like Dad. When the kid gets something in his head…that's the way it's gonna be.
He got up from Sam's bed and went to lay down on his own. Lying on his back, with his hand covering his eyes, he sighed.
Sleep won't come easy, that much he knew but when he heard Sam's breathing easing into something of a lullaby, his eyes started to drift close.
The storm was far away, hitting another city, the rain easing into thin fog, the night slowly becoming dawn…lazy, red dawn.
When the sun was barely peeking up from the horizon, stretching his rays over the rain soaked pavement, Sam's throat was scraped by a noise, a scream that woke Dean and almost send him flaying on the floor. Face first.
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TBC...
I think that the next chapter will be the last...although this story was supposed to be only a one shot, so... blushes