The Beast Within

- Chapter 7 –

(Back at Bobby's 6 months later)

"Wake up Sammy" Dean said yanking his brother's blanket off him before he left the room still giggling like a 5 year old. Sammy rubbed his eyes and looked around slightly befuddled. This was the first night since he had been kidnapped, that he had slept in a proper bed in the same room as his brother Dean. It was the first time that he felt more like a person than a dog.
Sam squinted and listened. Down the corridor he could hear Bobby and Dean talk, but he didn't want to pay attention to it. He was rather listening out for the chirping birds in the trees outside. He allowed his head to sink back into the pillow and reached for the blanket to curl up in it again. It was a wonderful feeling.
He was glad that Dean treated him as always and not like a raw and damaged egg. He had missed his brother so much during his time in the basement, when he needed his reassuring strength to keep him going and not to give in.
He took a deep breath smelling the clean linen sheets and sighing with content as he turned his head towards the window. A real window that wasn't boarded up, that was framed by curtains and through which he could actually see the world outside if he wanted to. He could get up and walk over there, pull the curtains back, get blinded by the morning light and try and spot the birds in the trees. There were moments during the past months, when he thought he would never be allowed to have these choices again. He wished he could talk to Dean about it all, tell him what had happened and how he felt, but he knew he couldn't. Maybe he was scared Dean wouldn't understand, or that he would judge him for all this and that he should have been stronger. Suddenly he wasn't so content anymore. The memory found its way back into his head, recalling the blackness and loneliness that had surrounded him down in the dark hole. He never wanted to be alone like this again, yet he wasn't sure if he could cope with the company of strangers right now. Dean and Bobby he could handle to be around, but what if Dean wanted to continue hunting? How useful would he be right now? He wasn't even sure if his head was still working properly sometimes. It was filled with all these thoughts and strange…instincts, which down in the hole had no other outlet. Being isolated like that can mess with your mind, he told himself over and over again, but that didn't help the fact that he was there. He had experienced it first hand, had seen what he was capable off.

"Are you going to stay in bed all day?" Dean asked suddenly pulling Sam from his distant thoughts. When their eyes met, Sam thought that Dean looked concerned.

"You okay?" Dean immediately asked.

Sam nodded slowly.

"Hey, uhm, Bobby is making breakfast so if you can drag yourself out of bed come join us, 'k?

Sam forced himself to smile a little.

"That's mah boy" Dean grinned.

Still trying to wipe the sleep from his sore eyes, which only slowly adjusted to bright light again, Sam traipsed bare feet into the kitchen. He didn't feel quite that much at ease with kitchens yet and both Bobby and Dean noticed the uncomfortable, flustered expression on Sam's face, but they only exchanged a quick glance before Bobby said "So, did you sleep okay or did Dean's snoring keep you up all night?"

"Hey! I don't snore!" Dean intervened immediately now looking more like a 5 year old that had been accused of stealing the last cookie.

Sam knew that he would have to start talking again, but somehow it felt odd to hear his own voice say the words out loud. They had no idea what inner battle he fought with himself.

"I…am fine, thanks" he forced himself say and immediately felt exhausted. Slightly drooping he watched Bobby fill his mug with coffee while he continued talking.

"So, have you boys decided if you want to stay for a bit or have you made other plans?"

Dean looked over to Sam who seemed to struggle with something.

"Erm, no not really. We haven't talked about it yet, so I guess if you don't mind, we could stay for a bit…if that's okay with you? Sam? Sammy?"
Not responding to Dean's attempts, Sam kept staring at his plate, his hands folded under the table so they couldn't see that they were cramping up. Dean exchanged another concerned look with Bobby, then asked Sam again if he was okay.
Sam just didn't look up which worried Dean more and more. He didn't know what to do. He felt so much pity and compassion for his little brother that his chest felt like it could implode. What was he supposed to do? Could anyone please tell him what to do?
Suddenly Sam looked up and his greenish eyes were filled with sorrow and shame.
He clearly wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words, which in turn made Dean feel all miserable.

"What is it Sammy? Talk to me! You are worrying me now! Are you feelin sick or somethin'..?"

"I…I…" Sam began "I…can't.."

"What can't you Sammy?"

"I can't eat…"

"What? Why?" Dean asked confused.

"…no..he said..he.."

"Who? That lunatic? What did he say Sammy? What can't you?"

Sam touched the sore skin around his neck where the collar had been. He tried to shake the memory off but he couldn't. His chair tumbled over unexpectedly as he rose up too forcefully and ran to the front door and outside.

"He did not just run away from a perfectly good home cooked breakfast!" Bobby muttered watching Dean doing the same following Sam outside.

Outside, Sam was shading his eyes from the bright light that burned itself into his cornea.

"Sam..?" Dean asked carefully watching his little brother shuffle around in aimless circles. Sam desperately wanted to go somewhere, but he couldn't see anything clearly. The shapes were blurred and the unforgiving brightness gave him a migraine. He had tears in his eyes but Dean couldn't say for sure whether they were caused by his sensitivity to light or by whatever was torturing Sam.

"Sam, when are you going to talk about what happened? I am your brother, you can tell me these things and I want to help you as much as I can. But you need to help me understand you right now, because you are scaring me Sam. I have been looking for you for 6 months and I was worried sick about you and the fact that I couldn't help you drove me insane. And now, that I finally have my little brother back…I must admit I am scared Sammy. I really am. As much as I want to know what happened to you in those 6 months…I am also scared Sammy, that it might break my heart when I finally find out"

"Dean…" Sammy started in his usual reassuring way to explain that he was okay, when he clearly wasn't.

"I know, you will talk to me when you are ready…"

"I am sorry" Sam whinged.

"Don't be Sam. Just tell me what's going on with you right now"

Sam rubbed his stinging eyes again, which were so sore and red.

"This man..he…he said that…" Sam felt really stupid hearing himself say those words. He knew how badly the old man had treated him, but part of him also didn't.

"He said that I wasn't allowed to eat at a table ever again, that it was too good for me…that I belonged in that dirty dark hole and…

"Oh Sammy!" Dean yelled passionately. This was exactly the kind of stuff he was worried about, the stuff that he hoped he wouldn't have to hear about.

Without further ado he reached for his little brother and gave him a strong hug.

"You know that this old bastard was only playing with your mind, right?"

"I know.." Sam whinged into the fabric of Dean's shirt "But he.."

"No BUT! I want to hear no BUT from you for a whole week, okay?"

Sam couldn't help but smile a little now.

"Okay.."

"Good!" Dean said and squeezed him tightly before releasing his grip.

"So, are you hungry enough now to sit down at a proper table and eat? You can use your fingers if that helps any" Dean teased.

"Very funny" Sam muttered still drooping.

"Of course! I am funny, you aren't! See, the Winchester Brothers are back in business." padding Sammy on the shoulder.

"You always eat with you fingers." Sam mumbled churlishly.

Dean squinted and in return scanned Sam with a disapproving look. That comment was so uncalled for, but then he could no longer hold back that big cheesy smile.

"Bitch" he said cheerfully.

"Jerk" Sam replied.