Just yesterday my little brother had finished the second trial.
The kid had gone to hell, through purgatory, and returned with Bobby's soul in tow…or in him actually…which was disturbing when you thought about it.
I literally shook my head, hoping to clear my mind of that creepy thought.
Because Sammy was okay.
I mean the kid was beat. Yesterday's trial and the following night-terrors had done nothing to help him out.
He was coughing more and eating less.
But he was okay…right?
I clenched my jaw, frustrated with my seemingly useless train of thought.
I glanced to my right at Sam, who was slumped over in the passenger seat. He was staring out the window, but I had a feeling he wasn't really seeing any of the scenery, the young man was far too exhausted.
We were headed back to the bunker so hopefully Sam could get some rest and I could get some kind of lead on where the hell Kevin had run off to.
"You want to pull off and maybe grab a bite?" I asked, for what must have been the third time since we got in the car.
"No, I'm fine." Sam huffed, giving me the same answer he had all day.
"Come on man, you need to eat." I pushed, knowing that he didn't have much yesterday and that he hadn't had anything at all today.
"I'm not hungry Dean, I'm just…" My brother faded off with a sigh.
"Tired?" I filled in, glancing over at him.
Sam just shrugged.
"Well, then why don't you try and get some shuteye?"
Sam sent a bitch look my way.
"You know damn well why, Dean." He bit out.
I nodded my head, because he was right about that. I did know why.
"So you're never going to sleep again because you're afraid of having nightmares?" I asked.
Sam gave me a dark look, as though I had crossed a line, and perhaps I had. But there was no way I was going to just stand by and watch as my little brother faded away.
"Well, is that your game plan? Because I hate to break it to you man, but it's not going to work."
"I never said I wasn't going to ever sleep again, just…not now." Sam finished lamely, turning to gaze back out the window.
"You'll be okay Sammy." I promised with a softer tone, looking over and watching the kid chew on his bottom lip.
"I don't want to have those dreams again." Sam confessed quietly.
"You won't." I stated, feigning all the confidence I could muster.
"You don't know that." Sam said flatly as he proceeded to stare out at the grey sky, watching the water droplets slide down the window.
"You didn't last night, not after I promised you that you wouldn't." I declared, reminding my little brother that I always kept my word, well I tried to anyways.
"Yeah, but that's cause we were..."
Sam faded off with a shrug, clearly not wanting to say the world 'cuddling' aloud, which I was more than inexpressibly grateful for.
"I'm right here." I pointed out softly, patting one of my brother's long legs.
"I know." He conceded quietly, sending me half a dimpled smile, before turning to look back out the window.
"Sam, if you start having one, I'll wake you up." I assured, taking the more reasonable route that I knew Sam preferred.
My little brother glanced over at me uneasily, still biting his bottom lip, it's a wonder that thing didn't get torn up with the amount of time he spent chewing on it.
"I'll be right here. I'll be able to tell if you start having a nightmare. I'll wake you up." I swore, looking over at the nervous man beside me, imploring him to believe me.
I watched out of the corner of my eyes as Sam seemed to be having some sort of internal debate. I could see the fear and anxiety in the lines of his face, but just as strong was the exhaustion making his body slump and his eyelids droop. The question was, which would win.?
After a couple minutes Sam released a long sigh, looking over in my direction.
"Fine, I'll try and get some rest. But do me a favour?"
"Whatever you need, Sammy." I said with a smile, content that my brother was allowing himself to sleep. Maybe after his nap I would have some luck in pushing him to eat something.
"Just be careful when you wake me up, sometimes I don't really know what's happening, and I don't want to hurt you." Sam declared earnestly, watching for my response.
"Ha! Don't flatter yourself kid. You've never been able to take me before, what in the world has you thinking you'll be able to do it when you're half asleep huh?!" I joked.
"I did once." I heard Sam whisper, his tone drenched in guilt.
A memory hit me instantly.
It was some time after Sam's wall crumbled. The kid hadn't been sleeping much and he'd finally conked out around three am, by four I was awoken by whimpering from the bed furthest from the door.
I wasn't surprised, it wasn't the first nightmare since the dam in his head was shattered, and I knew that it wasn't going to be his last.
"Sam!" I had called out, hoping to rouse him.
"Sammy, Wake Up!" I yelled loudly, releasing a long sigh as I climbed slowly out of bed.
I grabbed a hold of my little brother's shoulders and shook him, eager to pull him from his nightmare and end the kid's terror.
The next thing I knew I was on the motel room floor with long thin fingers wrapped around my neck. My eyes went wide as I tried and failed to suck in any air. I looked up seeing my little brother's face staring down at me, but even my oxygen deprived mind could tell Sam wasn't with it. He was still living in the world of his dreams.
Every hunter instinct I had was screaming at me to fight back, to go on the offense, but my big brother instinct refused to hurt Sammy, and that instinct always overrode all the others.
As I tried desperately to suck in air, I mouthed my little brother's name, inwardly cursing when no sound came out. I began to see spots and as I slowly brought my hand up towards Sam, clumsily carding my fingers through his long hair and gently resting my hand on the back of his neck. I squeezed ever so lightly, in the comforting way I always had.
Just as I was beginning to feel myself losing consciousness, the pressure on my neck was suddenly released.
"Dean." I barely heard the loud sob over my noisy gasp, feeling my lungs burn as they filled.
"Dean! I'm so sorry. So sorry. Oh gawd, what have I done?"
I wanted so badly to tell Sam that I was okay, to reassure him, but I didn't yet have enough air to do so. Instead I rolled over onto my side, coughing and gasping. I was trying to get a handle on breathing when I felt the same long thin fingers that had been cutting off my air just seconds ago, now gently encircling my arm and pulling me carefully into a sitting position.
My eyes watered as I proceeded to try and even out my breathing, made difficult by the constant gasping and coughing. I felt Sam's shaky hand running up and down my back as he muttered a mantra of my name mixed in with a whole lot of apologies.
"I'm okay Sammy." I choked out in between laboured breaths.
Once I no longer felt like I was going to pass out, and was finally able to take in air slow and steady, I looked over at my little brother. Sam was kneeling by my side, his one hand still on my back while his other had a steadying grip on my elbow, which I hadn't noticed until just then. I looked up at his face, barely able to see it past all that hair, but what I could see made my heart ache.
There were tears streaming down my kid's cheeks, his eyes were full of guilt and concern, and his mouth continued to form the word 'sorry' over and over and over again.
"Sam, it's alright man. I'm okay." I promised in a much stronger voice than I had been able to use last time. Stronger voice or not, my brother made no acknowledgement that he heard me.
"Hey buddy, I'm fine. Look at me kiddo." I ordered, moving to kneel before the young man, placing my hand on his chin and guiding it up. I gently moved Sam's hair from his face so I could get some eye-contact. His gaze was brimming with tears and deep emotion as he brought it up to meet mine.
"I am okay, Sam. This was not your fault." I stated clearly.
He instantly began to shake his head.
"Yes it was, I - I hurt you…Dean I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you. I thought you were…I didn't know … I'm so sorry, so sorry, sorry…" Sam repeated as he looked down at his hands, which were shaking violently in his lap.
I reached across and grabbed a hold of both of the trembling appendages, ducking my head to get into my brother's line of sight.
"Sam. It is not your fault. I shouldn't have woken you like that. I should have known better—
"No, no Dean." Sam interrupted. "I should have known it was you. It's my fault! Oh god, I could have killed you. I'm sorry! So sorry."
"Sam, stop!" I ordered loudly. "Can I talk for one second?"
He nodded shakily, biting down on his lip to physically put an end to the string of apologies.
"Now, look at me." I demanded again.
He timidly raised his head, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes met mine.
"I knew you were having a nightmare. I should have found a better way to wake you. I should have paid more attention. This is my fault. Not yours."
"I was strangling you! I had my fucking hands around your throat. How the hell is this not my fault?!" Sam snapped loudly, ripping his hands from my grip and glaring down at them hatefully.
"Did you mean to hurt me?" I asked, matching his loud volume.
Sam looked at me as though he'd been slapped. "No! Of course not!"
"Did you know it was me you were choking?"
"Hell no!"
"Sam, did you strangle me on purpose?"
"No! Dean, I would never do that. I would never intentionally hurt you! If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have done that."
"So than how is it your fault?" I asked calmly, watching as understanding dawned upon my little brother's face.
"Because I hurt you. It was my hands that were around your neck." Sam said, his voice drenched in self-loathing as he stared again at his shaking fingers, clenching them angrily.
"You didn't know!" I yelled in frustration, regretting my tone of voice as I watched Sam visibly shrink away from what he perceived as anger.
I grabbed his hands again, unfolding them from their fisted positions as I spoke.
"You thought you were defending yourself. And the second you knew who I was, you stopped. I knew that you would stop, that's why I didn't fight back." I waited for my brother to look at my face before continuing.
"I know that you would never hurt me, Sammy." I stated with all the conviction in the world.
I watched as hope filled my kid's face, his eyes searching mine, seeking the truth. I let him see it, I let all the love I had for the shaggy headed sasquatch shine through, along with the complete and total trust I had in him.
A small smile slid onto Sam's face as he found the truth he had been searching for, but the dimples were fleeting as his expression again grew serious. Before I could reaffirm my belief that Sam wasn't to blame, one of his hands was coming towards me, his fingers lightly skimming across my neck.
"I could have killed you, De."
The voice crack and the shortened version of my name tore into me. I wanted to tell Sam that I loved him more than anything, that I trusted him more than anyone, and that I knew his heart, and because of that I knew that he would never intentionally hurt me. But I'd never been great with emotion, so I settled for a much lighter comment.
"Don't flatter yourself kiddo, you're not that good." I replied with a smile.
Sam smirked as his hand fell away from my neck.
"But in the future I will definitely wake you up a little more carefully. You never were a morning person."
My brother released a rueful laugh as he shook his head in disbelief.
"How about next time you fight back?" He asked, his expression a little more at ease, but his tone serious.
"You wouldn't want that, Samantha. I'd have you on your ass in a second." I responded casually as I climbed to my feet.
"I don't care. If this happens again you have to promise me that you'll fight back. Whatever you have to do." Sam instructed me, grabbing onto my arm to stop me from walking over to my bed.
"How about it just doesn't happen again." I said, knowing that I couldn't make the promise that Sam wanted.
"Ha! How are we supposed to do that?" He huffed, dropping onto his bed in frustration.
"I'm just going to start throwing things at you in the morning. That way I don't have to get so close, which is good because - little brother - your morning breath is lethal." I mocked.
"Yeah and yours is just great." Sam snorted sarcastically as he laid back in his bed.
"Shut up, Sam. I smell delicious."
The laugh that fell from my baby brother's mouth made me smile like a moron. It was almost worth getting strangled just to hear that stupid laugh.
I fell asleep that night watching Sam stare mindlessly at the fuzzy television. I had encouraged him to get some rest, but I hadn't pushed it, because I knew that between his nightmares and hallucinations there was no way his sleep would be peaceful. I also knew that what happened tonight had shaken him on a number of levels and it could be awhile before he trusted himself enough to fall asleep.
It never happened again, the nightmares did, but Sam never came at me like that again. But he never forgot it either. The day after it happened I caught him staring at my neck, guilt clouding his features as he examined the light, barely coloured bruise.
That was the one and only time I had ever wished that I owned a turtle neck, if just to ease my baby brother's conscience.
I saw the same guilt in Sam's eyes now, as I had on that night years ago.
"You didn't hurt me, dude. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to take me out. I'm batman." I said with a wink.
"I'm serious, Dean. Just please be careful." Sam insisted
The honest fear in his eyes tore at me, because I knew it wasn't due to his impending dreams, but fear that he would hurt me in some way.
"Don't worry, buddy. I'll be careful." I assured him with a nod of my head, feeling my kid brother's eyes on me, studying me for another moment before he turned to rest against the Impala's passenger door. I fiddled with the radio, stopping once I hit a soft rock station, knowing that was the kind of music that had always been able to knock Sammy right out.
"Jerk." Came the mutter to my right.
"Bitch." I responded with a grin.
It was still raining a couple hours later as I watched the wipers slide back and forth across the windshield. We could have been back to the bunker by now, but Sam had been sleeping for three hours; and if I had to drive around all night, I would do it just so the kid could get some rest.
There had been no sign of any nightmares so far. I was thinking maybe the Impala provided a sense of security, but it wasn't like Sam hadn't had bad dreams when sleeping in it before. Maybe his body was just so worn that his mind had shut down, not allowing for any memories to be played out. Maybe it was the hand I kept on one of my brother's long legs as he rested. Whatever the reason; Sam was finally getting some much-needed sleep, and that alone was a good enough reason for me to take the longest, most scenic route back to the bunker.
Suddenly, I felt my little brother flinch, the hand I had resting on his leg jumping as his entire body jerked.
"Sam." I immediately called out, loud enough that he should have heard me, but the young man made no indication of that as his breathing became erratic.
"Hey! Sammy, wake up!" I ordered, giving the leg I was holding a hard shake, as I tried to maintain some sort of attention on the road.
Again, Sam gave no reaction to my command and began to move around, rolling his head from side to side as his body continued to jerk about.
"Sammy!" I hollered, moving my hand up to his shoulder and shaking him roughly, not bothering to consider the risk I was taking for myself by waking him so aggressively.
Still nothing.
I guided the Impala quickly over the side of the road, putting her in park as I turned to face to my little brother, desperate to bring him out of the memory that had him flinching so violently.
Once Sam began to cry out, I hurried out of the car, rushing around it and opening the passenger door. I squatted down in front of the boy trapped in a night-terror. I yelled at him to snap out of it, shaking him and his only response was to release a blood curdling scream. I was desperate to stop Sam's pain, placing my hand on the back of his neck and my face close to his.
"Sammy. Please wake up!" I choked out, my voice cracking as I begged the kid to come back to me.
The young man's eyes flew open, fear and terror reigning in his expression as he shook violently. I went to place my hands on his chest when he tried to get up, not wanting him to hurt himself. But he slapped them away.
"Get off me!" He cried out, pushing me away as he dived - or more fell - out of the Impala.
I held my hands up in the most non-threatening position I could and took a step back, but not too far, because my kid brother was barely on his feet, shaking so hard I was worried he was going to collapse.
"Sammy it's alright. I'm right here, just calm down." I soothed, watching in confusion as my little brother started pulling at his button up shirt, redding o fit as well as the t-shirt underneath.
"What are you doing, Sam?" I asked, taking a cautious step closer as I watched him staring and feeling all around his chest, his breathing still as panicked as it had been when he was dreaming.
Sam made no sign that he'd heard me, but once he started to claw at his chest, I could not be ignored any longer.
"Sam! Sam, stop it!" I ordered as I moved in. Not giving a shit about my own safety, I reached out, grabbing his hands and holding them against my chest, away from his.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, looking into his terrified eyes.
"He…He was peeling it." Sam choked out, his gaze remaining focused on his chest.
"Peeling? Peeling what?" I queried, trying to get my brother to look at me so I could figure out what the hell was going on.
"My skin." Sam sobbed, his legs suddenly giving out, causing him to collapse to the ground.
I swallowed down the bile that rose up my throat at the kid's answer, as I grabbed hold of him and eased his decent to the pavement. I angled Sam so he was leaning against the Impala before I squatted down in front of him.
"He can't touch you, buddy. You're here with me. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." I promised.
"He was…he wouldn't stop…I begged him to…but he kept…and god it hurt…so much pain." Sam described in a haunted, stuttered whisper while he stared at his chest, running his hands over it, as though needing proof that it didn't really happen.
"It was just a dream." I reminded him.
"It wasn't…it was a memory." Sam mumbled, looking up at me with wide, frightened eyes.
"I know, but you're safe now." I assured him, my mind searching for a way to make this better for my traumatized little brother.
"He never stopped...no matter how much I begged or screamed. He just kept peeling…and smiling."
My stomach turned at the dark recollection.
As I looked into my brother's eyes, I saw their hazel colour fade behind a cloud of terror. They contained same fear and pain that I had spotted in them twice last night; the same fear and pain that I had seen in them years ago. I remembered that even when Sam had his hand around my throat that night, he hadn't looked hateful or angry, instead his eyes were full of the dread and hurt that I could see in them now.
"He'd peel my skin off so slow and I couldn't do anything but scream."
I knew that Sam was talking about the cage.
That he was doing what I had asked of him last night, and sharing his burden. But as he spoke I could tell that part of him was still there, was reliving what happened through his words. The shattered expression on his face said it all, his agony almost palpable.
I was tempted to look away, not wanting to face my little brother's memories, or hear the stories of his torture, but I knew that wasn't an option. I refused to deny him the little support I was able to provide. So I continued to stare into those heart-wrenching eyes as I slid my hand onto the back of Sam's neck and listened quietly.
"He peeled if off strip by strip until there wasn't any left on my chest…so he'd move to my arms." Sam choked out, while I continued to swallow the bile trying to escape my throat.
"And he'd say he liked it when I screamed…so I'd try not to. I'd bite down on my tongue. But eventual - hours, days, or weeks later - I couldn't stop myself…and I'd scream." Sam recalled, his voice quivering. I felt tears sliding down my face, but did nothing to stop them, knowing the rain would wash them away.
I noticed one of Sam's hands making its way up my chest, stopping to rest where my amulet should have been sitting. A pang of deep regret seared through my soul as Sam's long trembling fingers grabbed hold of my shirt. I knew that he wanted to be gripping the amulet, like he did back when he was younger and searching for comfort, safety, and reassurance. I put my hand over his, as my other hand gently squeezes the back of his neck again. The best way I could think to show that him I was here, and that I was never leaving, all of which the amulet used to say for me.
"I always screamed for you, Dean." Sam croaked, a tear slipping slowly down his face as his watery gaze remained on mine.
I flinched.
I remembered that I had screamed for Sam when I had been in hell. And it killed me knowing that he had done the same for me, for a much longer period of time.
"I'm here now, Sammy, and I'm never going to leave. I'm going to protect you, little brother." I vowed in a voice gruff with emotion.
Sam stared a me a moment before nodding his head, the fear in his eyes diminishing almost completely as a look of love and trust took its place.
It had always amazed me how much the kid trusted me. No matter how often I fucked up, Sam still looked at me with the same trust and adoration that he had back when he was a young child. I felt my heart swell, the love I had for my kid brother filling me up, accompanied by my need to protect him.
I used the hand I had on the back of Sam's neck to pull him towards me, feeling his body slump tiredly against mine as I wrapped my arms around him. It was not long before I felt my brother's long arms responding in the same way, gripping tightly to the back of my jacket as he buried his face against my collarbone, crying softly.
"I got you, buddy. I got you." I whispered in his ear, holding him impossibly tighter.
I didn't care that the hard pavement was digging into my knees, or that I could feel the wet ground soaking my jeans, or that the rain was beginning to fall a little bit harder. I just wanted to make sure my brother felt safe, that he knew I would never let anything hurt him again, no human, angel, or demon, not even Lucifer himself; and if assuring him of that, meant sitting outside in the rain hugging like a couple of girls, than that was what I was going to do.
After a while Sam's breathing evened out and his cries tapered off. It was then that I realized he was no longer trembling with emotion, but had begun to shiver from the cold.
I slowly released my grip on the kid and eased him back.
"You good?" I asked, searching his expression for an honest answer.
"Yeah." Sam croaked, looking at me with puppy dog eyes no longer dominated by terror.
"Good, cause if we sit here much longer we are going to be swimming." I joked.
Sam smirked as we climbed to our feet. I didn't bother picking up his two soaking shirts as I maintained a steadying grip on his elbow and escorted him to the passenger seat.
Once he was seated I closed the door and ran back to the trunk, popping it open and grabbing a sweatshirt from my bag and an old blanket.
"Here, put this on." I instructed, dropping the sweater on Sam's lap, watching a small smile brighten his face as he held it, probably realizing it was one of mine. The kid always seemed to prefer my clothing over his whenever he was sick and/or tired.
Sam slid into the hoodie, his long wet hair dripping onto it once it was on.
"You really need to let me cut off some of that mane, man." I chuckled.
"Not a chance." He replied with a smirk.
"Fine, stick with the drowned rat look." I shrugged, sliding off my wet jacket and tossing it in the back.
I saw another hard shiver run through Sam's body and I dropped the blanket onto his lap.
"Thanks." He said, covering his mouth as he began to cough.
"Sitting out in the cold rain sure didn't help your health any." I muttered as I spread the blanket over him, pulling off his shoes and socks as he continued to hack into his hand.
I made sure the blanket was covering his cold feet as I pulled them up onto the seat, sliding them under my thigh.
I took the Impala out of park and steered her back onto the road as Sam's coughing died down. I glanced over to my right, feeling eyes on me and saw my little brother with the sweater hood pulled over his head, blanket pulled up around him, resting tiredly against the passenger door as he stared at me with a huge dorky smile.
"What?" I asked curiously.
Sam's only response was to begin wiggling his toes.
"Would you rather your feet be freezing?" I threatened, starting to lift up my leg.
"No!" Sam responded quickly, still smiling. "I'm just not used to you being so willing." He added with a chuckle
I smirked because normally Sam would just dig his toes into me, worming his feet underneath my leg; he had been doing that since back when we both shared the backseat.
"You've always had icicle feet." I remarked.
Sam laughed softly as he rested his head back and directed his gaze out the windshield, watching the wipers slide back and forth.
I studied him out of the corner of my eye. My brother looked better, no longer shivering from the cold or trembling in fear, no longer looking haunted by hell or clouded in pain. A shadow remained on his face, hidden in his eyes, but that was what hell did to a person. He still looked tired, and I could tell that he was getting sick. Once we got back to the bunker I was making sure that he was getting a solid night's rest, a full eight hours at the very least. The trials didn't seem to be doing the kid any favours, and I was sure that sitting out in the rain hadn't either.
I cursed myself again for not being the one to take on the trials. It should have been me, not Sammy. But there was nothing I could do about that now. One trial left. Sam would finish it and I would take care of him while he did. Then the gates of hell would be slammed shut and I would make sure that my baby brother got the safest, happiest, most normal life possible.
Because he fucking deserved it.
I took another look at Sam, watching as his tired eyes stared at the road again, feeling his cold feet under my leg, and hearing his steady breathing. Everything he'd been through, all the supernatural sons-of-bitches who tried to taint him - who tried to change him - and he was still here.
He was still my little brother. Still the kid who wore his hair way too long. Still an emotional little girl. Still a temperamental sasquatch. Still the little brat with ice cold feet. Still the stubborn bitch he'd always been. Still the boy desperate to do the right thing.
His heart was as big as ever.
No one and nothing could taint my little brother.
And as I glanced over at him, I felt my heart swelling with pride.
I loved my kid so fucking much it hurt.