Chapter Eight

The pounding in his head had subsided somewhat, yet when Sam tried to open his eyes he was sure his brain was about to knock its way from his skull only to bounce across the room and crash through the door to freedom.

He pulled one arm out from under the covers and covered his face. The one break in the curtains, the one little gap for light, just had to be where his face was. Sighing, he carefully opened his eyes and took in the room. He remembered parts of the drive, Dean waking him up with a smug grin until he couldn't take it any more and had tried to slap the grin from his brother's face. He didn't remember getting into the motel though.

He did remember Jess.

He did remember Mum.

He did remember he'd told Dean, and his brother had been unsure.

Which brought him to his next thought, where the hell was Dean?

He pulled the covers back and slowly sat up, swinging his legs off the side. He'd been undressed and put in his boxers and t-shirt that he kept aside for sleeping in. His head felt clean and with a brush of his fingers he felt Dean's handiwork. His body felt stiff and dirty and he looked longingly toward the shower.

Dean.

He gazed at the figure sprawled over the other bed, one leg hanging off, laying on his stomach, gently snoring. He was still fully clothed and even had his jacket on, a trail of blood from his wrists had dried around his fingers but still he slept on, his face relaxed and his breathing even.

Sam smiled and carefully shook his shoulder.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"Come on man, roll over."

"You ok Sammy?"

"I'm good man, feel like I've got a killer hangover, but I'm good."

"You need some aspirin?"

"No man, I need you to roll over."

Sam gently helped Dean roll onto his back, pulled him forward and freed him from his jacket and shirt. Grabbing the first aid kit he went to work on his wrists, cleaning them and wrapping them in gauze. When he was done Sam carefully lifted Dean's t-shirt to check his torso. He glanced at his sibling's face; he'd fallen back to sleep and was snoring again. The bruising was bad but nothing was broken. Satisfied Dean wasn't hiding any injuries, Sam made his way into the shower to ease his aching joints and clear the desert from his body.

His mind wandered back to Jessica, to his mother. They'd saved them. Had it really happened? He was sure of it, the feeling he'd been left with told him it had been real.

He'd seen them both again. They were so beautiful, just as he had wanted to remember them. His mothers words echoed in his mind as he dried himself off and dressed in clean clothes.

Find Dean, help him, bring him to my grave.

Help him. He'd freed him, they'd driven out and away and were safe, but Dean was still in pain and scaring him. He'd seen the look in Gordon's eyes, in Phil's eyes, in Dean's eyes.

He could help him, he knew it, his Mother knew it. He just had to get him to her.

He stepped from the bathroom, steam exploding into the small motel room, to find his brother still asleep. He'd rolled onto his side and the covers had fallen from his shoulder. Pulling them back up Sam brushed Dean's hair and swore he'd fix him, swore it for Dean, for Dad, for Mum.

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"Do we have to do this again?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"Dean!"

"Sam!"

"Five."

"Wrong."

"What? How the hell is that wrong?"

Dean grinned smugly at his brother from across the small motel table the coffee and donuts between them smelling so sweet and appetizing that both their stomachs were growling in unison. Before they could eat though, Dean wanted to make sure Sam's concussion was definitely on it's way out.

"Four fingers, one thumb."

"What? Oh come on."

"Nope Sammy, you got it wrong, more donuts for me."

Sam grabbed his share before Dean could pull them onto his side, the pain from his brother's wrists hindering his assault on the food and allowing the younger man the advantage, even with a pounding headache.

"How's your ribs?"

"They're fine Sam." Dean ate pretty much a whole donut in one go, smiling broadly at Sam and causing him to almost choke as he laughed at the older man.

"Dude that's gross."

"What?"

They ate together in silence, both enjoying the meal after two days of taking it very easy and only eating sandwiches from the vending machine down the hall.

"Seriously you sure you're ok?" Dean asked around another mouthful of donut.

"You mean have I seen anymore dead people?"

"That's what I mean Haley-Joel."

"Dean I'm fine, honestly, it was the concussion, the desert, I think it made me see things. I mean if they had been there you'd have seen them too."

"Yeah, it was the concussion alright."

"Yeah."

Both brothers regarded the other over their breakfast, each trying to see into the other's soul for the truth, both knowing the other was lying, each deciding to ignore the fact.

"Where to next then?"

"I was thinking, maybe, we could go see Mum's grave?"

Dean almost choked on his donut. He glared at Sam and tried his best to keep the panic from his eyes.

"What?" He couldn't have heard right , he was sure he'd heard wrong.

"I remember Dad telling me there was a grave, our Uncle made sure there was a place for her to rest."

"It's empty Sam."

"Not the point Dean."

Dean gazed at the table, weighing his options. It was the last place he wanted to go, his mind wasn't ready to think about that, about being an orphan. He hadn't been there since he was seven and even then he couldn't look at the headstone, couldn't walk closer than ten yards to where the grave was. She wasn't even in there, why the hell would they need to visit an empty grave?

"Please."

And there it was, that one word , the purse of the lips and the tip of the head and Sam had him, he knew it, his brother knew it. There was no way out now.

Sighing heavily he picked up another donut. His appetite was gone but he had to go through the motions for Sam, had to pretend it was all ok and Dean was in control.

Sam watched as his brother took a bite and chewed as if he was enjoying the food. He knew this was a risky move, but he needed him to open up and if Mum thought this was the way then that's what he would do. Sam wanted to see her, be there with her, even though her body wasn't in the ground he was sure her presence was there. Plus he wanted to leave her something, something he felt she needed to have.

Dean looked up and nodded.

"Ok, but I get the last donut."

"What? No, you've had way more than me."

"House rules Sammy."

"You make up those rules Dean."

"Shut up bitch."

"Jerk."

They settled once again into the old familiar routine. The avoidance, the side step, each Winchester a master in his own right, yet the younger one was dancing with more style and more purpose. He had a goal in mind, and nothing was going to get in his way.

Dean.

He had silently promised his Mum he would make it ok, and part of him knew the gift of seeing not only his mother, but Jess too , had to be earned, and saving his brother was the best gift he could give back to their mother and father.

The two finished their donuts, finished their coffee, then made ready for the long drive to the graveside.

Sam packing excitedly and expectantly.

Dean slowly and reluctantly.

The End.

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Well we've come to the end guys, thank you all so much, to everyone who's read and to everyone who's reviewed i can't thank you enough for your kind words .

The Krip himself saw fit to carry on this story for me! LOL! Hopefully it should fit nicely in-between 'Bloodlust' and 'CSPWDT'.

If it doesn't blame The Krip!

Again thank you so much , you're all the reason us writers write XXXXXXXXXXXX