Okay, here is the next chapter. I have a chapter count now. It looks like a total of 27 chapters for this story. I hope you enjoy.
Cindy.
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"You're pathetic, you know that!?"
"I-I threw everything I had at him! What else could I have done?"
"He's free you imbecile! Free of everything!"
"But, isn't that good? You wanted him dead so he couldn't challenge you. This is just as good. He's a weak human now…"
The sound of the slap resonates through the caverns and the kneeling demon hisses in pain.
"I wanted him as my slave! If he gave in, I controlled him. I'd have my general and my slave! Now…I have nothing and that piece of human crap Sam Winchester is alive and well!"
"What do you want from me? Anything…anything to make it up to you."
"I want Sam Winchester's head on a plate. Isn't that what he said he wished for? My head on a plate?"
"They'll be expecting an attack. How will I get close enough?"
"What? Are you scared? He's just human now. No powers…nothing."
"I'm not scared…it's just…"
The small hand shot out and was wrapped around the other's throat so quickly that if you didn't already know better, you'd swear it had been there all along. Two faces pulled together until their noses were almost touching and a once deceptively pleasant voice turned ugly and hissed.
"I want Sam Winchester's head and if I don't get it, you'll be on the rack for all of eternity…Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-Yes…loud and c-clear. I'll bring you his head and any other part you desire…"
"As lovely as that sounds…his head will do nicely…"
The hand let go and Alastair dropped to the hot, rocky floor, his hands reaching up to finger his abused neck. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled away, Lilith's maniacal laugh following him as he hurried to complete his task.
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Dean watched, the corners of his mouth drawn down into a slight frown at the whimpers coming from his thrashing brother. He had tried to wake Sam when the nightmare first began, but the younger man remained deep in sleep, trapped once more, presumably under the blade of Alastair. At least Dean hoped it was the blade and not something else. Dean shuddered at that thought and wondered for the millionth time how Sam had held on through that particular torture. If that had been done to him when he had been in the pit, it sure as hell wouldn't have taken them thirty years to get him off that table. At least that's what he thought would have happened. Dean marveled at how much stronger Sam was than him. If he only knew where Sam got his strength, he wouldn't be so hard on himself.
Dean looked up when Bobby rushed into the room, a basin of cold water and a washcloth in his hands. He set the basin on the side table and dipped the washcloth in the water as Dean rubbed his hand softly up and down Sam's arm, his strong voice imploring his brother to wake up. Bobby wrung the washcloth out and placed it on Sam's sweaty brow, hoping the cold, wet material would bring the young man around. Sam's eyelids scrunched up, but they didn't open. Dean looked up with panicked eyes at the older man, but saw nothing but the same panic reflected back at him. He turned back to Sam and moved from the chair he occupied to the edge of Sam's bed. He reached up and cupped Sam's hot cheek, patting it lightly at first, but when that produced no results, he did it a little harder.
"Sammy…come on kid, you gotta snap out of it. Wake up Sam…please…wake up," Dean pled, his heart hammering furiously in his chest.
Sam continued to whimper and thrash about, his hands clawing the air, his body arching off the bed at times. Suddenly, his eyes flew open wide and he bolted up, gasping as he attempted to draw in air. His body trembled uncontrollably and beads of sweat broke out over his exposed flesh.
"OhGodOhGodOhGod…stop…please…" he cried softly.
Dean grabbed his shoulders and squeezed gently, relaxing ever so slightly when Sam's soft eyes focused on his face. Dean smiled warmly and lifted one hand to cup the back of Sam's neck.
"Hey…you okay Sam? You need to slow your breathing dude or you're gonna pass out," he said worriedly.
Sam's mouth gaped open and Dean would have chuckled if he weren't so damned freaked out. His thumb caressed against Sam's scalp and slowly but surely the younger brother began to calm. Once Sam's breathing returned to somewhat normal, Dean helped him to lie down again. Dean picked up the washcloth that had dropped to Sam's lap and handed it to Bobby, who dipped it in the water again. He wrung it out and handed it back to Dean before nodding and leaving the room.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Dean queried as he started to run the cool cloth over Sam's heated, sweaty skin.
Sam closed his eyes and shook his head, the images from his nightmare finally starting to disappear from his mind. He opened his eyes again and stared up as Dean wet the cloth again before running it over his bare arms.
"Sam…I know it's hard, but you have to talk about it eventually," Dean said softly.
"I-I know I do…just not now okay?" Sam answered, his voice low and hoarse.
"Yeah…sure kiddo," Dean said with a slight frown.
Sam gazed up and smiled sadly. 'God, I love him,' he thought suddenly as he dropped his eyes.
"What is it Sam? What's wrong?" Dean queried with concern.
Sam looked up and smiled. "Nothing Dean. I…I was wondering if…"
"What? Do you need something?"
"I'd really like to go outside. I mean…without dangling out the window," Sam said softly.
Dean did chuckle this time, some of the tension leaving him at Sam's attempt at humor. "Sure Sammy. Maybe we can have lunch out on the porch," he answered brightly.
"I'd like that. Um…maybe I could take a shower first?" Sam asked.
"You don't have to ask Sam. You want to do it now?" Dean said as he stood up from the bed and set the washcloth on the rim of the basin.
"Uh…yeah. C-Could you help me up?" Sam queried, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Sam…you don't need to be embarrassed. Now, lets get you up," Dean quipped, pulling the blankets down and watching as Sam swung his legs over the edge of the mattress.
Dean helped Sam sit up and supported him as he stood on shaky legs. Together the brothers made it across the room and into the hall. They slowly walked down the hallway to the bathroom and once inside, Dean lowered a weak and panting Sam onto the closed toilet lid. He stood up and glanced at Sam with concern.
"Uh…maybe a bath would be better dude. I don't think you can stand that long and I'm for sure not getting in there with you," Dean said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
Sam chuckled and Dean's heart leapt as he caught a glimpse of dimples. "Yeah…maybe a good soak will feel better than a shower," Sam replied tiredly.
"Okay, I'll get the water going."
Dean leant over the edge of the tub and turned on the hot water, his fingers held under the stream until the liquid turned hot. He turned the cold water knob until the temperature was just as Sam liked it then stood and went to the cupboard for a clean towel and washcloth. He placed both on the small table next to the tub then turned to Sam.
"Uh…we better get you undressed unless you want to go in in your jammies," he said lightly.
"I think I can handle it Dean. Thanks," Sam said softly as he started to slowly pull his tee shirt up and over his head.
"Okay…I'll just turn around and when you're ready to get in, let me know," Dean mumbled, turning around to afford Sam some privacy.
"I-I think I can get in okay Dean. You don't have to…"
"Uh-uh Sam. I'm not gonna have you falling and cracking your head open. I won't look…I promise."
"Um…okay…" Sam replied.
Dean listened intently as Sam rose from the toilet seat and his brother's soft affirmation brought Dean around and as he kept his gaze on the tub, he took Sam around the waist and helped the weakened young man into the tub. Once Sam was safely seated, Dean grabbed a hand towel from the vanity and folded it then placed it at the end of the tub, holding it in place as he helped Sam lay back, the towel cushioning the younger man's head.
"How's that Sammy? Is the water okay?" Dean asked, ever attuned to his brother's needs.
Sam glanced up, a genuine smile curling his lips and Dean just melted. How long had it been since he'd seen a smile like that? Months? Well before Sam's deal, that's for sure. Well before his deal.
"It's perfect Dean. Thanks," Sam whispered as he relaxed further into the water.
"Great. You just take your time Sam. I'll get you a clean change of clothes," Dean said as he reached over to turn off the taps.
Dean stood up straight and turned toward the door. Sam's soft voice, suddenly timid, sounded and he turned to find wide eyes on him.
"You're gonna be close, right?" Sam queried and Dean could swear the kid was shaking. He smiled and nodded before answering.
"I'll just be a minute getting your clothes and then I'll be right outside the door Sammy. Don't worry…I'm not leaving you kiddo," Dean said, his heart breaking at the fear in Sam's eyes.
Sam continued to stare a moment longer then relaxed back in the tub. He smiled softly and sighed, "Thanks Dean."
"No problem Sam. Enjoy you're bath."
Sam closed his eyes and sank further into the water, his long legs bent as far they could go to allow his shoulders to sink beneath surface. Dean watched for a few moments to make sure he was fine then quietly stepped out of the room. He hurried to the bedroom and pulled a clean pair of boxers and sleep pants from Sam's bag then opened a drawer in the dresser and snagged a clean tee shirt. Another drawer held clean socks and once Dean was satisfied he walked back to the bathroom and slid down the wall, his butt hitting the floor with a soft thud. He leaned his head back against the wall and waited for Sam to call for him when he was finished soaking.
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Sam sat in the old wooden rocking chair on the porch, a light throw draped over his legs. There was a crispness to the air and Dean had insisted on the blanket and the sweatshirt that Sam wore over his tee shirt. Sam had rolled his eyes at Dean's mother hen routine, but smiled inwardly at the warm feeling the attention gave him. He quietly snacked on a plate of cheese and crackers while Bobby busied himself in the kitchen with lunch. Dean sat on the porch swing and tried not to watch as Sam ate. It was so hard to not just sit and stare at his brother after having to see him so still for those four horrible months. He didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable though, so he glanced around at anything just to keep his eyes busy.
"It's okay Dean…you can watch me if you want to," Sam said softly and with a slight chuckle.
Dean turned his gaze to Sam and smiled guiltily, feeling as though he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Not sure what you mean, Sammy."
"Dean, I get it okay? When you first came back, I was the same way. It's fine…actually makes me feel…better."
"I don't want to hover Sam…it's just…"
"I know Dean. Believe me…I know."
Dean was about to speak, but Bobby chose that moment to make his appearance. The older man pushed through the front door, tray in hand and stepped in front of Sam. He set the tray on Sam's lap and the young hunter looked down to a steaming mug of tomato soup and a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Sam smiled up at Bobby and whispered a soft thank you.
"You're welcome Sam. Now…eat up. You need to get your strength up," Bobby replied with a slight smile.
"Hey…where's mine?" Dean queried indignantly as he spied only one mug of soup and one sandwich.
"You got two feet to git you to the kitchen boy. I ain't your servant!" Bobby shot with amusement.
Dean stood up and stared at Sam nervously. He looked from Sam to the door and back again.
"Just go git some grub Dean. I'll watch Sam 'til you get back," Bobby grumbled.
Dean mumbled under his breath as he headed for the door and Sam chuckled lightly until Dean disappeared. Once Dean was out of sight, Bobby immediately noticed the change in the younger Winchester's demeanor. His hand began to tremble and he watched the door like a hawk, his breathing quickening as he began to panic. A light touch to his arm had Sam flinching and he nearly dumped the tray of food off his lap. He looked up with embarrassment to Bobby's concerned face.
"It's okay Sam. He's just inside. He'll only be a few minutes," Bobby said comfortingly.
"Sorry Bobby. Don't know why I get so jumpy when I can't see him," Sam whispered, his voice filled with shame.
"You've been through hell Sam. Literally. You're gonna be a little jumpy. I think you're doing amazingly well, considering."
Sam let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "I'm a good actor, Bobby. I just…I don't want Dean to worry. He has enough on his plate, he doesn't need his pain in the ass little brother going off the deep end on top of it all."
"Sam…you have to give yourself some time. I got news for ya…Dean's gonna worry. It's who he is. If it involves you…he's gonna worry. Just don't hold stuff in. He's here for you. Hell…I'm here for you too."
"Thanks Bobby. For…shit…for everything."
"Hey…no need to thank me. We're family. You know that kid."
"Yeah. I know Bobby."
Both men looked up when Dean pushed through the doorway, a large bowl of soup in his hands and a ham sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He arched a brow when he saw the two staring at him, chuckling.
"'at?" he managed as he sat on the porch railing and set the bowl down beside him.
"Got enough soup there?" Bobby queried.
Dean pulled the sandwich from his mouth and stared wide eyed and innocently at the older man.
"What? I couldn't find a soup bowl so I had to use a mixing bowl! I ain't gonna use one of those pansy ass mugs like you gave to Sam, that's for sure!"
Sam began to lightly chuckle and lifted his mug to his lips. "I happen to like my pansy ass mug," he quipped before taking a large sip of the steaming soup.
Dean beamed at his brother, the tension of the past days melting away at the sound of Sam's soft laughter. He took a large bite from his sandwich and chewed happily as he watched Sam attack his lunch with gusto.
'Kid's gotta be starving,' he thought to himself as Sam continued to eat.
Bobby shook his head and started for the door. He had just stepped through the doorway into the house when he heard a loud crash and Dean's concerned voice yell his brother's name. He rushed back out onto the porch to find Dean kneeling beside Sam, who was on all fours on the porch floor, gasping for air.
"What the hell happened!?" Bobby cried as he dropped onto Sam's other side.
"I don't know! He just went completely pale and lurched off the chair!" Dean yelled as he hunched down to see Sam's face.
"H-He's coming. Dean…he's coming," Sam managed to pant out between gasps.
"Slow down Sam. Just breathe. Deep breaths," Dean instructed as he rubbed comforting circles over Sam's back.
Sam worked to slow his breathing and Dean glanced up at Bobby, worry darkening his green eyes. Sam made a move to sit back and both older men helped him back into the rocking chair. The throw was covered with soup and the mug lay broken on the porch floor. Sam looked up at Bobby apologetically, but Bobby shushed him before he could speak.
"Don't worry about it Sam. It's no big deal."
Sam nodded and turned his wide, frightened eyes on Dean. "He's coming," he whispered as his body began to tremble.
"Who Sam? Who's coming?" Dean asked fearfully.
Sam's eyes widened even further before he lowered them to his lap. "Alastair. Alastair's coming back for me," he whispered.
Bobby gasped and his eyes immediately swept over the land in front of his house. He sensed Dean pulling Sam up from the chair and moved to help him get the terrified young man into the house. Once they were in and had Sam safely on the sofa, the two older men locked the house down, checking to make sure every opening was protected and every charm was in place. They rushed back to where Sam sat and Dean immediately went into full big brother mode when he found Sam with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, rocking back and forth, tears streaming from his eyes. Dean sat next to his brother and draped his arm around Sam's back.
"Hey…he can't get in Sam. Bobby and I won't let him near you," Dean said, hoping to calm his obviously terrified brother.
Sam glanced up, staring through soft brown fringe as he blinked tears from his eyes. "Why won't he leave me alone Dean? I see him when I'm asleep and now when I'm awake too?" Sam whispered brokenly.
"Sam, how do you know he's coming?" Bobby asked as he sat on the coffee table in front of Sam.
"I…I saw his face and I just knew. But…how? The demon blood is gone. My powers are gone…"
"Uh…about that Sammy…" Dean started.
Sam jerked his gaze back to Dean, his mouth agape, eyes wide once more.
"What Dean?" he asked fearfully.
"Sam…we need to talk."
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Uh oh. The cat's out of the bag. Wonder how Sam will react to the news that he still has his abilities. Will post more tonight. See you later.
Cindy.