January 24
Chapter 6
"Yeah, I get it, Bobby." John sounded grave and tired but he was a bit relieved after talking with his old friend. So apparently some parts of the creature, some dirt or splinter of its nails, got stuck in Dean's body and continued to do damage to the boy. Bobby suspected that those remains had got into Dean's blood or embedded in his bones. That was why the doctors had failed to detect them while those people were patching Dean up.
"But what if holy water doesn't work, Bob?" asked John into his cell. "Brewed herbs?" he said after some time. "What kind of herbs?" John stilled as he listened and finally nodded.
"Get him to your place, you got it." John knew he would do anything for his sons even if it meant going against doctors' words, especially when there was not much they could do.
It was past midnight when Sam finally saw the Samaritan Hospital sign. He had to change buses two times after entering San Jose and half running now, Sam shoved open the glass doors into the lobby. He almost could not get through to Dean's room, though, thanks to a security guard. But a nurse then informed the guard that the young man's brother was in a critical condition. Sam had cringed at the information before thanking the nurse and with eyes watering he dashed to the patient wing she pointed at.
Sam was breathless and his chest felt like it would burst anytime as he was standing before a closed door. He knew Dean was behind it though he didn't ask the nurse or his father for the room number. The youngest Winchester closed his eyes as a wave of emotion washed over him. He couldn't hear anything from the other side of the wall but there was a tug at his heart. Sam swayed and clutched the doorframe for support. He was suddenly brought to different dimensions—time and space.
Sam found himself no longer at the hospital and he was much younger, only three or four years old. He was skipping along by Dean's side who had been trying to steady his two-wheeled bike. It was his first try riding it by himself after his dad taught him for several days.
"Come on, Deeean, let me up," Sam whined, reaching up to the handle and grasping it with his stubby fingers. He shook it a little resulting in an alarmed Dean.
"Hey, hey! Sammy, let go of the bike."
"Why?" The toddler watched his big brother with his huge eyes.
"I might fall down!" The bike kept wiggling with Sam's hand still tightening on it although Dean had slowed down.
The older kid's brow knitted when Sam's cheerful giggle filled the air like the chirping of a bird.
"Am holdin' on ta ya bike, Dean, you won't fall."
In his own way, little Sam had reassured Dean that he would keep him from harm. And in the here and now, Sam understood that while unconscious, Dean had sought him out. His brother was scared. God. Dean had never been that scared in his life. He had always been the one to protect Sam and not the other way around.
Sam took the doorknob and squeezed it hard before turning it open.
"I've got you, Dean," he whispered to himself. "I won't let you fall this time because I'm holding you tight."
To his dad's face that was a mixture of surprise and profound relief that met his then, Sam offered a weak smile before blood drained from his face. Behind his father, on the bed, Dean was sleeping peacefully. Too peacefully to Sam's liking.
"No." A plea escaped his lips. He knew this really happened. His damned visions had made him see; he had talked to his dad. Still Sam was not ready to face the fact. He was enjoying himself, for goodness' sake, when this all happened.
What was worse was that he had left Dean to face this all alone, to be a good son and go wherever their father dragged him to. To sacrifice his life, his chance of living a more normal life just so his little brother could have all that.
Sam felt lightheaded. He didn't deserve his brother.