A/N: So I suck at nightmare fics haha oh well. Either way, ill be writing more often then I used to. I enjoy it quite a bit honestly whether I'm a good writer or suck so bad that first sentence makes ya push that back button LOL
Thanks for following it or fav'ing it! An especially thanks two the lovely reviews it got. Thanks guys!
Dean shut the door with a soft click. He sighed now that he was alone and Sam wasn't able to see his face as it crumbled. His calm expression turned into a image of pained features but it wasn't that of injured limbs or headaches. No, it was the inner ache of emotions that once again came to the surface and threatened to drown them in their aggression. He was able to keep his 'game face' on despite all the feelings that were running wild in his mind and chest as they drove far away from the care center, away from the twenty-four hours of misery he found himself in, and to a motel much farther away. Although he told Sam he was fine, that was just one more lie to add up to the crap load of other lies in the Winchester's life. Now, alone in a bathroom without a little brother constantly eyeing him with that familiar worry in his questioning gaze, his was the perfect frame of not fine.
He wasn't fine.
He never was when he had watch his little brother die.
Dean walked over to the shower and turned it on. He felt the water as it went from cold to an almost scolding hot against his skin. He wasted no time in taking off his dirty shirt and pants before climbing in and the feel of the water against his aching body was like heaven as it slowly drew the tension out of his sore muscles. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to simply relax against its soft touch. He lifted his head up so that the water didn't touch his face but rolled in fast waves down the length of his slim yet built tan body.
He just stood there, lost in his own mindful thoughts so long that the water had lost its warmth and was quickly being replaced with coolness. Dean turned the knob until it was nothing more than a slow drip. He didn't care that he wasn't able to fully clean himself of the filth and grime. The water had done most of that but, he wasn't sure that it was the dirt he wanted to wash clean. Maybe it was the evidence of his over dose that he wanted to clean from sight or the image of a dead Sam from his mind. Either way, he wanted to forget everything. He wanted to erase the images away that projected over and over, he wanted to forget that Sam had found the case in the first place and he wanted to forget all the guilt he was feeling for leaving Sam alone. So many things, he wished he could forget.
Dean got out. He grabbed the white towel that hung up on the wall. He wrapped it around his mid section and just stood in front of the mirror. The evidence of his over dose was right there on his chest. A small round puncture wound stood out clear on his chest. Right over his heart. Dean touched it and winced as the littlest pressure still hurt. It was warm, warmer than any other part of Dean's skin.
He knew what it meant. Even though it was his intention, he knew his heart had stopped and doctors only stuck a needle through your chest in a last effort to jump start your heart. At the time Dean didn't care. There was only one thing on his mind. His own death meant so little to him when it came to saving Sam. He didn't think, he acted on pure instinct and pain alone. There was no Dean if there was no Sam.
A line Dean had told Sam once before and he meant it to its very meaning.
Man, the lengths i'd go for you, for dad...it scares me.
There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sammy. Not if there was a way he could save him. There was only one time that Dean had actually let Sam's death be. Back when the apocalypse ran a mess thanks to both Sam and Dean's decisions, back when trust was more of a heavy burden and things sprawled so much out of control. Their bind was tested then. Everything that Dean knew so well, 'protect Sammy', his belief that angels didn't exist, had changed so drastically. Even though he questioned his brothers faith, his humanity and their fathers words repeated even years after his death, 'Kill Sam or save him', Dean still couldn't turn his brother away. He's tried. God knows he tried. He was the one who decided they pick a hemisphere because Dean couldn't, wouldn't watch as Sam destroyed himself, lost himself in the darkness that somehow, during Dean's time in hell, had wrapped around his brother. Instead of Dean, the one person that Sam always counted on, that darkness was instead what Sam clung to in those harsh months of his absence. Then Lucifer risen from the cage in a show of blinding light and earth shaking. The fear that the end was near became the reality they lived in. Still, after everything was done, Dean couldn't turn his back on Sam.
After his trip to the future, that was clear. That, Sam depended on him and needed him just as much as Dean needed and depended on Sam. He got a first look at what his decision to leave Sam would do to the time to come. Sam may have fell far off the path of right, but it was Dean who pushed him in the direction of the finish line. Saying they were better off apart was like telling Sam that Dean just didn't want him around, didn't trust him. It was an open invitation that Dean no longer wanted anything to do with Sam. Which is how his brother took it.
Dean took a deep breath, willing the past memories to go away. "Come on, Dean. Focus man. Can't let Sammy see you like this." He scolded himself for his weakness.
He quickly got into his change of clothes before opening the door and walking out. He smirked at the sight of his brother, long legs dangling off the side of bed, his mouth open and eyes closed which meant Sam was out like a light.
Dean walked over to Sam's bag. He dug around in it until he found what he was looking for. "Yahtzee." He took it from the bag and walked back over to Sam's bed.
He gently shook Sam's shoulder. "No sleeping yet, Sammy. Come on."
Sam seemed to refuse to wake up since his eyes decided to stay closed but he did mumble something that sounded like, "...'ts Sam."
Dean rolled his eyes. "You'll always be Sammy to me sasquatch. Now up!" He smacked Sam's shoulder, not hard to enough to make Sam flinch in his sleep.
Sam moaned in displeasure at being woken up but eventually cracked an eye open and focused on Dean who was holding out a bottle of pills. He recognized them as the one the doctor gave him for pain. "Seriously? I'm fine Dean. Just let me sleep." He stated trying to roll over on his side which caused another moan to escape his throat at the unwanted movement to his wound.
Dean shook his head at Sam's reluctance. He was used to Sam's mood whenever he got woken up from a deep slumber. "Hey, princess. Take them. Now." His demand held finality.
Sam sighed but slowly set up and grabbed the offered pills. "Fine."
Dean smiled in satisfaction. "Good." He walked away only to return a minute later with a glass of water in hand.
"Thanks." Sam mumbled and downed three of the pills. He set the glass on the table and carefully scooted back on the bed until he was in the middle and laid back down.
"That should help with the pain. Get some rest." Dean ordered without any real authority.
Sam didn't need to be told twice. He was already starting to lightly snore as sleep once again took him under minutes later but he managed to say, "You to Dean," before hand.
Dean sank down on the comfortable bed. He debated whether or not to take a few of those pills as well but decided against it as Sam would most definitely need them. Plus, he was sure with the amount of pills he ingested not six hours before did major damage to his insides. Taking anymore could most likely prove permanently fatal but his stomach was no better than Sam's at the moment. It felt like knives were being plunged in to every part of his insides, tearing them to shreds with its sharp edges and pointy end. He had his self to blame for that.
He took a deep breath. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, he closed his eyes and relaxed. He listened to the soft snores coming from the side of the room and focused on that. Sam was alive. He was breathing and he was right there where he belonged. Safe, in Dean's careful watching eyes. Alive...
He couldn't stop the dark oblivion that swarmed around him as it, too, sunk its claws in him and tore him from reality and into a nightmare.
•••Supernatural•••
Sam wasn't sure what woke him. He just knew that there was a disturbance in the air. A shifting in the atmosphere that drug his sleep absorbed mind out of sleep and alert in seconds.
He blinked several times before sitting up, trying to clear the rest of sleep out of his eyes. The room was dark, save for the small portion of light illuminating from the slightly opened door of the bathroom. No doubt his brother left the light on in case either of them had to get up in the dead of night to take a leak. It was often reason enough to make sure they didn't stumble over their own belongings to get to the bathroom. Which if Sam remembered, happened to him once before. Dean never let him live that one down because it knocked Dean out of sleep after Sam face planted with a loud thud onto the floor after tripping over the bags.
Dean laughed, Sam called him a jerk and Dean responded with, "Don't worry, Sammy. I'll leave the light on from now on so you don't damage that pretty face, princess."
Princess was a taunt Dean liked to use to get on Sam's nerves. It worked. Sammy was embarrassing, but princess was downright humiliating.
He looked around the room but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He shrugged and was about to lay back down, deciding it was just his imagination, when a small noise caught his attention and had him focusing his attention towards his brothers bed.
After a few seconds of waiting he heard it again. A small, hardly noticeable whimper. Sam immediately went for the bed side lamp to switch it on, hissing when he twisted to far and caused the stitches to jerk. He ignored it and the room was soon bathed in harsh light which caused Sam to slam his eyes shut unwanted penetration, only opening them after the dots cleared from his vision.
"No..."
Sam's breath hitched at Dean's low voice calling out in a almost like whisper. He was out of the bed instantly, swinging his long legs around until they planted firmly on the ground. Standing up, he was at Dean's side in three large strides.
What he saw broke his heart.
Dean was having a nightmare.
Dean had the cover pulled half way up his frame with his hand laid over his chest but it wasn't flat, instead gripping the covers with more force than necessary. Dean's mouth was opened and he was panting. His eyes were clenched tightly together, his brows drawn together almost like in confusion but Sam could see the sweat glistening on Dean's pale skin. His body was tense as he turned his head from side to side. Sam could see the strained muscles in his neck at the effort.
Sam hasn't seen Dean have a nightmare since the Mark Of Cain. He could remember it in full detail. Dean's loud voice was filled with horror as it traveled down the corridor and to his room. Sam jerked awake as it entered his hearing and the fear he felt was immediate as he raced down the hall, gun drawn out in front of him, ready to shoot whatever was causing Dean so much pain. He didn't expect to reach Dean's room only to see him caught in a nightmare. One that was intense and had his brother frantically calling out two words, 'Sam,' and 'no.'
He didn't wake his brother. He knew why Dean was having them. It wasn't hard to figure out, with the mark of Cain fueling them along with Dean's sudden thirst to kill. He hated not being able to help Dean but he also knew that waking Dean from a often had its consequences. Though it knocked him out of whatever hell dream he was in, Dean would wake up swinging before he realized he was back in reality.
Sam wasn't sure if he should wake him now, either.
Dean continued to jerk and move restlessly in his sleep.
•••Supernatural•••
Dean found himself back at the cabin. He was standing outside of the building. The only difference was he wasn't where he was during the time before, building a litter for Sam. Instead he was facing one of the windows of the cabin. The light from the lit lanterns were shinning strong and bright casting their glow in every corner of the walls along with peering out of the windows like a light from a regular house.
He had to shake his head to clear out the fog in his head. Why was he...?
"He won't leave you.."
Dean's trail of thought vanished as the voice registered in his mind. Like a gun's safety clicking into place, except that meant safe, but what went through Dean's veins was white hot rage. It was dangerous.
Corbin.
"Son of a..." Dean muttered as he walked over to the door, ready to enter the cabin and stop Corbin from even going near Sam but found as he tried turning the knob that the door wouldn't budge. "What the hell?"
There was a thud and Dean's head snapped up. He banged a fist on the door, hitting it so hard the hinges rattled in protest. Panic was eating every other sense. "Sam! Sammy! Leave him alone you son of bitch!"
There was grunting and what sounded like struggling. Dean ran over to the window and what he saw made his blood run cold and his anger go up full throttle.
Sam was sprawled out on his back. His expression pained and panicked as he struggled to breath. Breath because Corbin was pinning him to the floor with one hand over his mouth and the other on his nose. Cutting off Sam's air, his need to breath.
"Stop!" Dean's voice shook as he yelled and pleaded but neither Corbin or Sam seemed to know he was there.
Sam's eyes rolled up into his head as the last bit of strength left him and his body just went limp. His hand that had attempted to pry off Corbin's arm fell to the ground uselessly at his side. The life completely drained from him.
Dean's eyes widened in complete shock. His body started to shake and sound was torn from his throat as the despair hit him like a freight train. The amount of emotion coming out of him was a lot similar to that one moment back at cold oak. "Noooooo!"
•••Supernatural•••
Sam watched helplessly as Dean's body jerked violently. The moment his brother let out a heart breaking sob was when Sam couldn't take it anymore. He had to wake him up and get him out of whatever hell Dean was in.
"Dean! Wake up!" Sam gripped both of Dean's shoulders and shook in an attempt to bring his brother out of the nightmares hold.
"Sam!" Dean screamed his name with so much force Sam thought he was going to reel back from the sheer emotion.
"Dammit Dean." Sam mumbled but not out of annoyance but from realization, out of worry.
Sam got onto the bed and raised Dean up until he was leaning against Sam's chest. Sam's arms circled around him and he held him close. He could feel Dean's body tremble against him and he tightened his hold. Dean's head jerked to the side, his brows were drawn together, fully lost in hellish nightmare that refused to let go. "Dean, hey! I'm here. I'm right here!" He said in a whisper against Dean's ear, hoping his voice would reach Dean' subconscious.
"...'ammy." Dean mumbled brokenly, his tone low but so loud in Sam's ear.
"Dean! I'm right here!" Sam tapped Dean's face a few times to try and rouse him. When that got no response he slapped a little harder.
That did it.
Dean's body jerked and he woke with a start. He was sitting up so fast his head spun, at least that was what would have happened if not from something strong and firm holding him in place and stopping him from moving. His heart beat frantically in his chest as he still felt the absolute terror of the dream. A dream, that's all it was.
"Dean?" Sam's concerned voice came from behind him and realized what, who it was that was holding him in place.
He couldn't help the sigh of relief at hearing his brother speak. It made the nightmare a little less real seeing his brother there in front of him, or in this case holding him. He couldn't help the smart ass comment. "Sorry Sam, gotta buy me dinner first." His voice cracked a little.
He felt movement and the next thing he knew he was being turned around and brought into Sam's strong arms before he could protest.
"Shut up, Dean. Just, shut up." Sam's voice was low as he tightened his hold.
Dean wanted to push Sam away, tell him to quit being such a girl but he found he couldn't. He let Sam comfort him by just embracing him. Dean found his own comfort in that as well because he could feel the warmth of Sam's arms around him. It meant that Sam wasn't gone but right where he was suppose to be and he wasn't going to deny either of them that. So he listened as Sam continued to speak soothing words of comfort.
"I'm right here Dean. It's okay."
For some reason Dean found himself getting tired again. He couldn't keep his eyes open. Maybe it was the reassurance of Sam being there that kept the nightmare away but, he didn't see it again.
He will never admit that he fell asleep in Sam's protective hold.