We'll Meet Again Chapter 6
Previously, on Supernatural…
Sam could feel the oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose; he itched to remove it, but just couldn't find the energy. "What happened to me?"
"We were hoping you'd be able to answer that."
He recognised that voice and he turned tired eyes on Jay and frowned in confusion
What ever had happened Sam was pretty sure Jay hadn't been there at the time…
…and that thought made him angry.
Dangerously angry.
Now…
Jay noted with concern the change in Sam's eyes.
"Sam? Sweetheart, are you ok? Are you in any pain?"
He just continued to stare up at her, eyes glittering with anger.
Which quickly turned to rage. Anger fuelling him, he reached up and wrenched off the mask.
"Get out!" The words were clear, low pitched and steady, but the bitterness that leeched out shocked Dean and Jay.
"Sam…" Jay began, startled, but Sam grabbed her wrist in a vice-like grip as he raised himself up a little, eyes hard as steel boring into hers.
"You weren't there. You didn't care enough, why would you care now?" Sam fell back against the pillow, overcome with exhaustion, but kept muttering the same litany over and over. His voice was now a strained, broken and breathless whisper as he relaxed his grip on Jay's wrist.
"You weren't there. You didn't care enough, why would you care now?..."
Dean gently replaced the mask, listening to his brother's painfully ragged breathing. Sharing a 'what the hell?' glance with Jay, they both watched over Sam as his breathing evened out, indicating that he was finally asleep.
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"You ok?" Dean winced when he saw the heavy bruises already forming on Jay's wrist.
"I've 'ad worse mate." She replied grimly, frowning.
Dean nodded. Jay had nearly died saving Dean's life on their first case in the UK.
Correction, she had actually died, which tends to happen when you take a large broadsword to the chest. Sam had been out of his mind with grief, until an old friend of Jays' had stepped in and struck a deal with the reaper, effectively taking her place.
All in all, Jay had proven to be quick, smart, tough, and brave, able to withstand a lot of punishment. So a bruised wrist certainly wasn't gonna phase her.
And that was a hell of a compliment coming from Dean Winchester.
"Dean, what's going on here?" Jay whispered as she threw him an anxious look.
"I'm not sure," Dean replied honestly. "But I'm willing to bet it has something to do with whatever happened on that stairwell, and what happened here before Sam woke up." He glanced across the bed at Jay.
"That wasn't Sam. You know that right?" He added softly, thanking God Sam wasn't awake for this.
Jay nodded. "I know it wasn't." The determination in her eyes and the strength in her voice convinced Dean she believed him. With an amused slight shake of the head she continued. "Aside from the Vulcan death-grip on my wrist, he doesn't normally speak with a Toff English accent."
Dean frowned. "Toff?"
Jay looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, ya know. Posh, upper class, Eton-educated, possibly in-bred, Queen's English, acts like he's got a snooker cue lodged up 'is arse?" This was said in such rapid fire that Dean blinked, before he started laughing.
"If I've said it before I'll say it again, lady you sure gotta way with words!"
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"So what now?" Jay enquired as she stroked a few wayward strands of hair from Sam's forehead, noting the tight, pinched expression on his face; a testament to the amount of pain he'd been in.
Dean watched his brother closely, his brow pulled down into a concerned frown.
"Right now, we play the waiting game." Dean settled into his chair and rested one hand lightly on his brother's chest, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall as Sam slept on.
"There's not much else we can do until Sam wakes up and tells us what happened to him before he fell." He murmured.
Jay hadn't been the only one to get herself killed on that first hunt. Sometimes Dean lay awake at night fighting sleep, just wanting to listen to his little brother's breathing, but mainly because he knew what awaited him when he finally succumbed to his exhaustion.
There were times, like this for example, that Dean could still hear the wailing of the cardiac monitor when Sam had flatlined in Colchester Hospital all those months ago. Could still hear the consultant's voice as he read out "time of death…"
Dean hadn't taken note of the actual time the good doctor called out when his brother had died, desperate to keep the bad memories to a minimum. The last thing he wanted was to wake in the middle of the night, glance at the clock and realise it was that time.
The moment Sam died.
Dean realized Jay had spoken to him whilst he was off rambling through the dark hallways of his mind. "Huh?"
She gave him a faint smile. "What did happen? You're the one that found him Dean." Jay asked anxiously but with no hint of anger or blame in her voice.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Dean realized he hadn't brought Jay up to speed with the night's events on the run up to Sam's 'accident'.
"We were investigating the sightings in the squash courts at RAF Bircham Newton, and in particular the deaths on the stairwell."
Jay nodded. This much she knew already.
Dean continued. "Nothing was triggering the EMF so we figured it was safe to split up and do a proper sweep of the building." Dean swallowed his guilt. Never mind that it was Sam's idea, Dean had gone along with it assuming there was nothing to worry about.
Huh. Rookie mistake.
A rookie mistake that almost cost Sam his life.
And to cap it all they'd parted with some pretty harsh words. He grimaced at the memory of that stupid fight.
"Don't do that." Dean flinched at Jay's sharp words and knew exactly what she meant. As usual the damn woman seemed to be reading his mind.
Shoulders slumped as if weighed down by the burdens of guilt, fear and misery, Dean whispered brokenly "It was my fault Jay. If I'd been there to watch his back Sam wouldn't…" he tried to control his emotions, restore some sort of calm to his voice. "He wouldn't be lying here hovering between life and death, being plagued by ghosts from two world wars."
Jay reached across the bed and grasped Dean's hand with hers, squeezing lightly. With the exception of Sam, Jay was probably the only person in the world that could get away with such a gesture. Well, as in not get their arms pulled out their sockets whilst Dean ripped them a new one.
Each now with a hand resting on Sam's chest, they were both silent for a moment, just grateful he was still with them.
"Tell me what happened Dean."
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Location: RAF Bircham Newton, squash courts.
Time: 03:30
"There's nothing here." Dean showed his brother the EMF meter, as if to confirm Casper hadn't shown up yet.
Sam nodded. "Ok. Let's split up and check out the building." On seeing Dean's face Sam sighed. "Dean it's ok. You saw the readings for yourself; we're just doing a little recon."
"I still don't like it." Dean frowned a little, then gave in not wanting to get into an argument. "Just keep your cell phone switched on ok? I mean it Sam!"
Sam just stared at him in amazement. "Jeeze! You really are in Big Brother mode tonight huh?" Annoyance was edging its way into his voice.
Dean's head whipped round at that comment. "What's that supposed to mean?" His eyes narrowed a little.
Shifting from foot to foot, Sam scowled at him. "Dean, you've been riding me pretty close for the last few months; if anything your constant hovering and over-protectiveness is only getting worse and it's irritating the livin' crap outta me!"
"Sam…" Dean growled only to be cut off by his little brother.
"No seriously dude. You gotta let up ok? You can't tie me to you 24/7…."
"Just watch me…"
"See? That's just what I'm talkin' about Dean. You're gonna drive yourself crazy with this man. Hell, I'm going' crazy!" Sam held his arms out. "I know I screwed up with the Witch Finder gig alright? There I said it! Happy?"
Dean shook his head in despair. He still doesn't get it. "That's not what this is about and I'm so not getting into it right now."
"It seems like as good a time as any!" Sam took a pace forward towards Dean. "Come on Dean. You don't trust me to look out for myself, just admit it already!"
He stepped forward again, bringing himself right up close to his brother, invading his personal space.
That tipped Dean over the edge. He grabbed Sam's shirt collar, swinging him round and slamming him up against the wall.
"Sam, I had to watch you die. Again!" His face was just inches away from Sam's, staring into his little brother's shocked, wide eyed gaze. "Don't you know what that did to me the first time up at Cold Oak?" Dean took a shaky breath, then continued, his voice hard "And then you go get yourself killed all over again because you went off on your own without backup, and you expect me to just get over it? What the hell dya think I am huh?" He was yelling now, pushing Sam harder against the brick wall of the court.
Sam's eyes softened with sorrow. "Dean I'm so…"
"Ya know what? Just forget it!" Dean shoved himself away, voice now neutral. "I'll take the ground floor."
"Dean?..."
When Dean turned back there was no expression on his face whatsoever. It was as if nothing had happened. "Call me if you find anything." Then he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving a very guilt-ridden and melancholy little brother in his wake.
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Holding the meter out in front of him, Dean tried to ignore the feelings welling up inside. He didn't want to feel guilty. He didn't want to feel remorse.
However, his harsh treatment of his little brother was playing on his mind and he almost turned back to apologize.
On hearing Sam's retreating footsteps as his brother climbed the stairs at the side of the court, Dean stiffened his resolve. Harsh he may have been, but he was also right.
After all, that was his job.
Within five minutes Dean had pretty much covered the entire ground floor, including the former canteen area. He glanced around, trying to picture what it must have been like here during the war. He imagined men and women in RAF uniforms stirring their tea and chatting about the latest sortie; may be a bombing raid or a dogfight.
In the midst of so much death and despair, this place had been the hub of life on the station. But now it stood in darkness, enveloped in its own sad and dusty memories of an era long passed.
He was startled from his thoughts when the EMF let out a high pitched squeal and as Dean spun round trying to trace the source the squeal grew louder. The LEDs lit up the gloom of the canteen, bathing it in an creepy red glow. He realized he was facing the hallway that led back to the squash court.
Before even realizing he was running, Dean pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.
A nasty suspicion had already assaulted him before the call went straight to Sam's voice mail.
This is Sam Archer. Leave a message. In case of emergency, call my brother, Dean Archer….
Shit.
Dean sped up. As he approached the courts he could hear a voice somewhere above him.
It sounded like Sam.
And he was pleading for his life.
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Dean glanced up to see Sam pressed up against the railings of the stairwell, right on the top floor. He was trapped by a tall man in a blue RAF uniform, his face half hidden by the officers' peak cap. The airman's mouth was moving but it soon became evident that only Sam could hear what he was saying.
Launching himself at the stairs, Dean raced up, shotgun at the ready.
He could just about make out Sam's fearful words.
"You don't have to do this. We're here to help you…"
Dean increased his already punishing pace as dread grew in his stomach.
"…I'm not the one you want. I didn't do anything…"
Knowing he was going to be too late Dean stopped his ascent, leaned over the railings and aimed the shotgun at the malevolent ghost, still hearing Sam's desperate pleas.
"…please, don't…"
Dean fired but the spirit had already given Sam a shove filled with superhuman strength, and now he was falling back over the railings.
"Sam!" Dean yelled out in fear and despair. The ghost had dissipated with the blast from Dean's shotgun, but it was too late to save his brother.
"Nooooooo!"
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Sam reached out, trying to find a way to stop his rapid descent. At one point he almost managed it, his abdomen slamming into the railings on the floor below. But the shock and agony of the impact caused Sam to let go, and he continued to plummet to the bottom of the stairwell, Dean helpless to stop it.
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Dean just stared at the still figure down below.
And then he was moving. Dropping two or three steps at a time, he ran as fast as he could towards his brother, frantically calling his name. It seemed to take him forever to get off that damn staircase.
"Sammy? Sam! Talk to me little bro!"
Reaching his fallen sibling, Dean crashed to his knees beside him.
If he was breathing heavily, it had nothing to do with physical exertion.
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Dean stared at his sleeping brother for a long time, then learned forward and placed his other hand to the side of Sam's face. "I'm so sorry. I should never have left you like that."
"You couldn't have known Dean." Jay squeezed his hand again. "I love your brother with all my heart. I've never known anyone like him, and I doubt I ever will again. But I also know what a stubborn wanker he can be, not to mention argumentative. And as for over-protective? You're not the only one with the monopoly on that let me tell you." She smiled at Dean's weak grin. "Remember what happened last month? When the Stag broke down on the M25? And within thirty minutes flat he was there, tearing me off a strip for going off without telling him. Thirty minutes! That journey should've taken at least two hours! And I'm used to going off without thinking to tell anyone; I've been on my own for too long. But he didn't like it one bit."
Dean grinned a little more this time. "Yeah. At one point I thought he was gonna cuff you and throw you into the back of the Land Cruiser, caveman style."
Jay's smile turned feral. With a small huff of laughter she went on "Well, it wouldn't 'ave been the first time actually…."
Dean looked affronted. "Dude please! This is my brother we're talking about. Your dirty phone calls have corrupted me enough!"
"HA! Haha!" Jay shouted with laughter. "What? Dean 'sweet and innocent' Winchester? I think not mate!"
Dean merely grinned boyishly.
Whether it was the conversation that roused him or Jay's loud abrupt laughter, no one knew. But a soft voice from the bed drew their attention.
"Sweet and innocent my ass!"
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Hope that cleared a few things up.
Many thanks for all your reviews so far; they've been extremely helpful.
Really hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the last one.
Kind regards,
ST.xxx.