Chapter 22: Miles to Go Before I Sleep

The hotel seemed infinitely empty as Dean entered. He stood in the doorway for sometime, pondering that emptiness, before realizing it was the lack of Sam that made it feel so. Dean's long suppressed loneliness rose to the surface in a sudden rush. A new wave of tears threatened him as he closed the hotel room door behind him.
He did not turn on the lights. The dark was somehow comforting to him. Stumbling over to the closest bed, Sam's bed by chance, he sat down on the edge and put his head in his hands.
How had he failed so miserably? How had everything fallen apart so quickly? He had failed Sam, Jessica their father…

I can't do this to myself, he thought, the more I beat myself up, the more I'll want to give up, and I can't do that. I still have a long way to go before I can quit.

John Winchester snapped his phone shut irritably. Still no answer. Dean must have turned his phone off, which meant that he was really angry.

I shouldn't have kept pushing him like that, he scolded himself, I knew better. He was already upset and I only made it worse.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

John looked up quickly at the voice of the intruder. A doctor stood close by, a medical chart in hand.

"Yes?" John asked, "Any news?"

"Your son is going to be fine," the doctor answered with a smile, "His wounds are not fatal."

"Then why is he still in a coma?" John asked, glancing towards his inert son.

The doctor hesitated. "We don't know."

"What do you mean 'We don't know'?"

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. We're doing everything we can."

"Thank-you," John answered softly. "Wait," he called as the doctor went to leave.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The other young man who was here," John said, standing, "He had a hospital bracelet. What was he admitted for?"

The doctor thought for a moment before remembering Dean, "Oh, yes. He had drowned. Had to be resuscitated. Then his brother was attacked. Feel bad for him."

"Drowned?" John asked, even more confused, "How?"

"We got a 911 call. He'd fallen into a well up at Free Hope Church."

"Really?" John asked, "Thank-you."

The doctor nodded and then left.

He told me he hadn't been hurt, John thought, walking to the window and looking out into the night, but I don't understand how it happened. I need to know what's going on. A sudden thought caused a current of fear to run through him. What if the reason Dean's not answering is because he's in trouble? I need to go look for him…but I won't even know where to begin. And I can't leave Sammy.

John closed his eyes to think, torn between both his sons. In the end, he weighed the risks and gains. Sam was hurt, yes, but decidedly safe here in the hospital. And Dean was God knows-where, angry and maybe in danger.

John was lucky to find a hotel key in Sam's jeans, which were with his other belongings in a small cabinet in the room. Now, at least he knew where to start.

He smells smoke, but can't tell where it's coming from. It's dark, but he sees a glow in the distance. He looks closer and sees that it is the glow of fire, but instead of running away from it, he runs toward it.

"Sam!" he calls, dread filling him, although he doesn't know why.

"Dean!"

He turns. Is that his father calling out to him?

"Dean!"

Dean knows that his father is in danger, but his brother needs his help, too. What is he supposed to do? Who is he supposed to save?

"Dean!"

Dean realized with a start that he was being shaken awake by rough hands. It took him a minute to realize where he was and who was in the room with him.

"Dammit, Dad, I'm awake!" he snapped, pulling himself up on his elbows.

"What are doing sleeping?" John asked.

"I've barely slept in 3 days! Cut me some slack," Dean retorted.

"I'm sorry," John replied, "I was worried. You weren't answering your phone and I thought that maybe something had-"

"Where's Sam?" Dean interrupted, sitting up straight.

"At the hospital," John answered, "I figured he'd be safe."

"You left him there alone?" Dean asked, jumping up. "He's not safe there!"

John's face paled. "How so? Is something after him? Dean, you have got to tell me what's going on."

"On the way there," he replied, pulling on a clean t-shirt and snatching his car keys.

Sam felt his soul being reconnected with his body. It knocked the breath from him and he gasped, eyes flying open. He looked around. He was in an empty hospital room. Jessica's last words to him echoed in his head.

You're in danger again, Sam. I'm going to send you back to your body. You have to get out of the hospital, though. My mother's coming for you.

Where was Dean though? Sam had expected him to he there when he woke up. The hurt Sam felt was quickly replaced by fear. The things Dean had said to him before he lost consciousness…what if he had gone and done something stupid? What if he had gone after Mrs. Hoffkins by himself?

"Don't worry," a voice spoke up from the doorway, "I don't have a clue where your brother is."

"You," Sam breathed, sitting up as he recognized the voice, realizing that she had been reading his thoughts.

"Me," Mrs. Hoffkins replied, leveling a gun at Sam's chest," now be a good boy and don't make me shoot you again."

"So, who's after Sam?" John asked, clutching his seat as they sped down the highway, "Why was he shot? How did you drown?"

"Okay, here's the abridged version," Dean began, "We were called here by a girl who we thought was dead."

"Thought?" John asked.

"She had a twin sister. One girl was killed about 5 years back. The other was a clairvoyant calling for out help."

"A telepath?"

"Do you have to repeat everything I say?" Dean snapped. John glared at him, but he continued. "Anyway, the living sister asked us to pull the dead one's soul from a gateway, a well."

"I understand," John picked up, "You jumped in and something tried to pull you in."

"Yeah," Dean answered, "but I was still able to pull Emily's soul out. Anyway, come to find out, their mom was psychic, too, and she was the one who killed her daughter."

"Why?"

"The spirits in the gateway," Dean explained, "They call out to…to people like Emily and Sam, to psychics. They were calling out to the mom, trying to escape. In a fit of insanity she threw her daughter in to appease them. Now, the spirits only need one more powerful, psychic soul to break out of the gateway."

The truth of what his son was saying dawned on John Winchester and he felt his breath catch.

"Sam. She wants to sacrifice Sam."

"Yes," Dean replied, "and you left him alone. Why the hell did you think I called you?! It was to protect him."

"Why? So you could run off and get yourself killed trying to be a hero?!" John retorted forcefully, "Would that really make things better, Dean?"

"It might have," Dean muttered.

"What I don't get," John continued, ignoring Dean's comment, "Is why she shot Sam if she needs him."

"It was me she was after," Dean whispered after a pause, "I knew what she was and so I was a threat…Sam took the bullet for me."

John suddenly realized why Dean felt so guilty about Sam's condition. He shook his head.

"This isn't your fault, son."

"I'm supposed to protect him."

"You've spent a lifetime protecting him," John replied softly, "One mistake does not condemn you for all of that. It does not make you weak. It only makes you human."

Dean nodded slowly. "Thanks, Dad."

"What did you see when you drowned?" John asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Why do you ask?" Dean inquired.

"I'm just wondering," his father replied.

"Nothing," Dean answered, "I saw nothing. Sorry to disappoint you."

John hurried to his son's room, Dean following closely behind.

Please, God, he thought, I don't ask you for much. Just don't let me have screwed up. Don't let Sam be hurt. Let him be there, safe in his room. Please, I can't bear to fail my sons again.

John skidded to a halt on the tile floors as he came upon his son's room. It was completely empty, Sam was gone.