So sorry for the delay in posting. My computer got a virus and so I pretty much had to wipe the entire thing and start over. It's back to normal now so onward we go :)
Dean caught the creak of the front door, heard the familiar footsteps that signaled his brother and Bobby returning.
He turned his head toward the sound. "Get everything?"
"We're good." Bobby replied. "How you holdin' up?"
"Awesome." Dean answered. "Well. You know, cept for bein' the whipping boy for a servant of the underworld, having to piss like a racehorse, and not bein' able move my legs..." He trailed off.
Sam's eyes widened. "What did you say?"
"I have to piss?"
"Dean..."
"My legs." Dean answered quietly. "I uh, can't feel 'em."
Sam shot a look at Bobby.
"Looks like we better get movin'," Bobby said, dropping his bag. "I'll get started with this," he said to Sam. "You take care of your brother."
Sam's jaw tightened. He moved over to the couch and leaned over, placing one hand under Dean's knees, another behind his back.
Dean jumped at the contact. "Dude…the hell you think you're doin'?"
"Helping." Sam said simply.
"You wanna help, then back off," Dean replied, pushing his brother away.
Sam took a step back. "You plannin' on willing yourself off the couch? Cause I don't think Jess'll be too happy if you mark your territory all over our sofa."
"Sam..."
"Dean, everything that's going down, this is what you're worried about? Let it go, man," Sam said gently. "Let me help."
Dean grimaced. "This is so going on the list of 'Things We Never Speak Of Again'."
"I'll be sure to add it," Sam replied wryly. "Right after that Nair in my shampoo stunt you pulled when I was 12."
Before Dean could object further, Sam reached over and hoisted his older brother into his arms, stumbling a little as he turned. Dean may have lost weight the past few weeks, but he was still all muscle. Adjusting his grip, Sam slowly, and carefully, headed towards the hallway.
Bobby watched them go.
John's boys had always amazed him, the way they needed each other. The way they completed each other. Even now, with the damage inflicted by the reaper, Bobby couldn't help but think that Dean still seemed more complete than when he'd been apart from Sam. Those last couple years, Bobby had done his best to watch out for Dean, to be there for him so he wouldn't be alone, but he knew no one could replace the hole left by his brother. It just didn't seem fair… having them be reunited just to be torn apart again.
Bobby grimaced. He was gonna make sure it didn't come to that.
He pulled the chalk out of his bag.
And hoped to hell he knew what he was doing.
After glancing at his watch for the fiftieth time, Sam gave a soft knock on the door.
"Dean. You alright in there?"
When he didn't get a response, Sam turned the handle. Slowly pushed the door open.
Dean was sitting on the closed toilet seat, staring blankly ahead. He'd somehow finished his business, gotten his jeans up. Sam didn't know how. Didn't bother asking.
"You okay, man?" He asked softly. "If you need another minute, I can-"
Dean spoke so quietly, Sam almost missed it.
"I can't stay like this, Sam."
Moving around the commode, Sam knelt down in front of his brother. "You won't have to, alright? Look, Bobby's workin' on it right now. We'll do this and you'll be good as new-"
Dean shook his head. "We both know it's a longshot. Bobby's makin' guesses here, man. We're goin' off some book… hopin' this spell or whatever works. Hell, even if it does, there's no guarantee everything goes back to normal. That I'd get my sight back. My legs…"
Sam's face softened. "Hey…"
"I'm not goin' to spend my life like this, Sam," Dean said firmly. "Some useless lump on your couch. Not bein' able to hunt…" He grimaced. "Shit, not bein' able to take a leak without a chaperone. I just…I can't do it."
He lifted dead eyes to Sam's. "I won't."
"Dean –"
"This thing a Bobby's…," Dean continued, "this spell…. Turns out it isn't the magical mystery cure after all, you promise me you'll make sure it doesn't come to that."
It took a minute for Sam to register what his brother was saying.
What his brother was asking him to do.
"What? No…Look, you're getting ahead of yourself, alright?" Sam said, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Come on…let's just go back. Let Bobby do his thing and…"
"Promise me, Sam."
Sam swallowed, felt his throat burn. "Don't ask me that."
Dean reached out toward his brother, hand fisting in the fabric of his T-shirt. "Sam, a life of this," he shook his head. "It's worse than death. Promise me."
Sam looked away. He knew that even if they could manage to save Dean's life, his brother was right... there was no guarantee they could reverse what the reaper had already taken. Sam also knew what that meant to Dean, to spend his life disabled. Crippled.
Helpless.
But despite Dean's insistances, promise or no promise Sam knew was no way he could ever do what Dean asked, even if it would mean ending his suffering. But Sam was determined to believe it wouldn't come to that. The spell would work. He just needed to get his brother to believe that, to say what he needed to hear so they could both focus on the task at hand. They would do the ritual, Dean would be healed. End of story.
The spell would work.
"Sammy. Please."
The naked need in his brother's tone, the desperation, made Sam cringe. He had never heard his brother sound so broken and it terrified him, even more than what he was about to agree to. Slowly, he nodded. Remembered his brother couldn't see the motion.
"Okay…," he said softly. "I promise."
"Okay." Dean let out a breath, unclenched his fist. "Okay," he repeated softly, thumping his brother on the chest. "Guess we better go summon ourselves a reaper."
Hope you all are still enjoying the story...shouldn't be too many more chapters left. Hope to update when I can and as always, thank for reading guys!