The Little Things Count More
CHAPTER 3
A few minutes later, Sam walked back in, his eyes and face reflecting the tears he had shed.
"Is he asleep?" Sam asked, his voice a barely a rasp.
"Yeh, just fell asleep now."
"I'm sorry I walked out I-"
"It's okay, Sam, but Dean figured out why."
Sam shook his head and sat at the table.
"I don't think I can get through this, Bobby."
"You will. Neither of us will like it, but we'll get through this. We owe Dean that."
Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping form and rubbed his hand across his face.
"I owe Dean way more than just to watch him die," Sam said.
"Sam, I promise you, we won't stop trying to get him back and I know your brother, if there is a way to claw himself out of Hell, he'll find it and do it."
"Maybe, but you and I know that even if he does, he won't be the same."
"We don't know that. Look at your dad. He came out the same man who went in," Bobby said, then couldn't help a smile. "Wouldn't surprise me if Hell couldn't wait to be rid of him."
Sam looked at Bobby and couldn't help snorting in amusement at the thought himself.
"Yeh, yeh, I can see that," Sam said as he thought fondly of his tough and determined father.
"Besides, you're forgetting something. Dean's soul is decent, strong, convicted. He understands Hell in ways that no one who's ever made a deal does. From what I've read, you don't become evil overnight. You're transformed over time. Hell changes a soul. It slowly destroys what's left of the person and leaves behind nothingness that gets filled with everything dark and monstrous. Dean will fight it, Sam. Fight it tooth and nail."
Sam looked into Bobby's eyes, a palpable sadness in them.
"I know he will, Bobby. That's the problem. He shouldn't have to, but he will, hoping I'll save him and I…I can't promise him that I will."
Bobby had nothing more to say. There wasn't anything more to say. Sam was right. Neither of them could make that promise to Dean and not feel like they had betrayed him somehow.
Sam walked over to Dean, picked up the wet washcloth, squeezed most of the water from it then placed it on Dean's forehead. Dean stirred with the coolness and his eyes opened slowly.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Sam said.
"S'okay. You all right? You rushed out of here in a hurry…had a hot date or something?" Dean smiled, telling Sam he was teasing him, his body hitching again with pain.
"Yeh, right," Sam smiled shakily back. "How's it going?"
"Swell." Dean joked. "According to Bobby, I got a ways to go before it becomes a real party."
Sam then became serious.
"Sorry, I should've been here –"
"Don't be sorry…this isn't your fault…"
Sam turned away.
"Doesn't feel like it."
Dean watched Sam turn away and looked over at Bobby. Bobby gave him a knowing look and it didn't take much for Dean to put two and two together.
"Hey, you got a golden opportunity here to get even," Dean tried to joke and hoped to distract Sam. "Don't tell me you're going to waste it."
Sam turned around.
"What?" He said confused.
"All those years, I took care of you when you were sick and I made you take medicine-"
Dean stiffened against his pillows and fisted the sheets. He let out a groan.
"C..crap…" was all Dean could get out.
Sam went back to the bed and held Dean's shoulders, if only to let him know he was there.
"Bobby, is there anything we can do?" Sam pleaded.
"I'm sorry, Sam, there isn't. Dean has to ride it out until it's out of his system."
Bobby hated that he didn't have something better to tell both of the boys.
Dean then raised his right hand up to let Sam know he was gaining control of the pain, swallowing air as he tried.
"I'm…okay…p…pain…passing…you can…let go."
Sam released Dean and watched him collapse against the headboard of the bed, still breathing with difficulty.
"Help…me…lay…down…so…tired…hurts everywhere," Dean gasped. His whole body was yearning to be laid on the bed.
Sam eased Dean down. Dean felt the weariness hit him like a ton of bricks and he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep. Once he was out for the count, Sam put the covers over him and sat back on his bed, exhausted himself.
"You're doing fine, Sam," Bobby comforted as best as he could.
Sam's face turned wistful again, too tired to think and just allowing his mind to go wherever it wanted. Stray memories were just flooding in at random, some from the recent past, some from when they were kids.
"You know, there was this one time, when I had a really high fever like Dean does now. I was imagining all kinds of things. I was dreaming that some kind of monster was coming after me and I was thrashing about. Dean tried to hold me down and I clocked him really hard. Didn't knock him out, but he had a bruise on his jaw for weeks. He never said a word, wouldn't have told me I'd done it, if it weren't for the bruise. He pretended as if it wasn't even there, that it had never happened."
Sam sheepishly grinned. Bobby allowed himself a grin too.
"Another time, I dislocated my shoulder and it hurt so bad, I couldn't stop crying. Dean told me to close my eyes and to just listen to his voice and he started talking about something that I can't even remember now, but he was doing it to distract me. Just as he finished his story, he yanked on my arm and put the shoulder back in. It hurt for that one moment, but then felt better."
Sam looked over at Dean's restless figure on the bed.
"He did all that for me, all of my life. Oh, I've fixed him here and there, maybe stitched him up now and again, but he's done so much more for me than just patch me up. When I would be lonely or worried about Dad, he'd tell me that our Dad was a superhero and that he'd back soon then there would be Dad, all okay like he had promised. Every time I got worried about anything, Dean would reassure me and tell me everything would be all right. He's never lied to me, at least never to hurt me and he's never broken a promise to me…can you believe that? I'm sure he'll say he has, but right now, I can't think of a single time."
Sam's voice quavered and he took in a breath.
"When I asked him to tell me about mom, you could tell he didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it, but he knew that I wanted to know so he would tell me stuff that he knew Dad never would, like how happy mom was that she was having me, how she told Dean that he was going to be a big brother. Little things like that."
Sam paused and his throat caught with emotion again.
"It's all I can think about these days, those little things Dean used to do for me. No matter how much it hurt him, he would do anything he could do for me and…"
Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping form.
"I can't even take this little bit of pain away from him."
Oooo
TBC