Chapter Fifteen
Sam felt like groaning as morning light assaulted his eyes. He squinted, trying to figure out where the damned light was coming from. Oh, right, the window. Sam rolled onto his side, blinking rapidly. His eyes finally adjusted to the light in the room. Dean was spread out on the floor in front of him.
Frowning, Sam pushed himself up to sit. His head was sore but did not issue any new complaints when he sat up, no dizziness or nausea. That was good. He felt a stab of guilt at the fact Dean had to sleep on the floor. Hoping his brother did not have a huge crick in his neck from sleeping with his head propped on his arm like that, Sam attempted to move off the mattress to wake up his brother.
Sam froze when he saw that Dean was sleeping on his notes. He wondered if his brother had been going over details of the case while he slept, but the handwriting on this page was not his. Leaning over, Sam realized that Dean had been making his own notes. About…him?
He slid the yellow legal pad out from under Dean's head, dislodging his brother in the process. Dean rolled over, one hand searching for something.
"It's not there," Sam said, referring to the knife Dean usually kept under his pillow, "you feel asleep on the floor."
Dean's eyes blinked open, his head twisting around. "Huh?" he said with his usual morning eloquence.
Sam stood, holding the pad. "Go ahead and take the mattress, I'm up."
Dean grunted as he crawled over to the mattress. As his brother spread out, Sam looked for the first page of Dean's notes. He guessed Dean read over his notes, because Dean's started out very similar to his. It began with a list of Sam's abilities which included, interestingly enough, the ability to call for Dean subconsciously. Did he do that? And technically was that his ability or Dean's?
"Got any new ideas about that ghost?" Dean's voice was muffled by the mattress.
"Uh, no," Sam replied, still reading Dean's notes. "I'll get to that in a minute."
"Huh?" Dean rolled on his side to stare up at Sam. Sam ignored his brother, wanting to read through the last of Dean's observations of him before Dean realized what he was doing. "Then what are you…" When Dean gasped, an odd girly sound coming from his overly macho brother, Sam's eyes picked up speed, determined to read through the rest.
"Damn it, Sam!" Dean thundered. Was that actual thunder in the distance? "Give me that!"
Sam held it up at arm's length, out of Dean's immediate reach, as he kept reading. "In a minute."
"Sam," Dean growled, jumping up at the pad. With a laugh Sam lifted it over his head, eyes still focused on the yellow paper. "You weren't supposed to see that!"
"Too late," Sam said dismissively, holding out his free hand to thwart Dean's attempts to get the list. "What's this that Mike said? About me?"
"Doesn't matter," Dean snarled, snaking a hand around to grab the pad. He wrested it from Sam, Sam only letting go when he realized if he didn't they would shred the pad between them and he still needed his notes. Dean ripped the pages of his Sam notes out, folding them hurriedly before stuffing them in a pocket.
With the immediate threat of Sam reading Dean's thoughts gone, although he did get to read most of it, Dean stood silent in the center of the room.
"Well, I'm done sleeping," Dean said, breaking the silence. "Let's go hit the library."
Sam expected something more spectacular, so his brother's dismissive attitude was surprising. After they both changed clothes, brushed teeth and whatever else they needed to do, Sam followed Dean quietly out to the car.
At the car, Dean let out a loud sigh. "Aren't you going to say something?"
Sam opened the passenger door, looking over the roof at his brother. "About what?"
Dean rested his arms on the roof, drumming his fingers to an unheard tune. Probably Metallica. "What you read."
Sam shook his head. "Nope. Unless you're planning to ask me about what you read in my notes?"
Dean appeared to ponder that for a moment. "Maybe later." He opened his door, paused. "Where did you get the whole morale officer thing from? That doesn't sound like you."
Sam stared back, again considering lying before dismissing it. "Same place you got the 'considering who and what Sam is' thing."
Dean pressed his lips together tight, drawing them into a thin colorless line. Without even a nod of recognition, he lowered himself down into the driver's seat. Sam did the same on his side, but without the tight, worried face.
As they drove to the local library, Sam wondered about that light. He remembered feeling it again each time Dean touched him after he woke up last night. Then there was that disturbing thing about 'who and what' he was. Sam figured he understood the 'who' part, at least he hoped so. It was the 'what' that bothered him. Yes he had abilities that came from the demon blood in him, but what exactly did that make him?
"Sam wears women's underwear."
His head snapped to the side. How long had Dean been talking and he not notice? "What?" he asked weakly, the fact he hadn't been listening painfully obvious.
"I said," Dean paused, actually taking his eyes off the road to scan Sam's face, "what's your plan? For the research?"
"No you didn't," Sam replied softly, unsure if his voice was loud enough to be heard. "You said something else." He considered that for a moment, searching his feelings. "It was something disturbing."
The side of Dean's face he could see winced. "Oh, come on, Sam, don't be such a drama queen."
"So what was it?" Sam asked, attempting to inject some force into his voice. He needed Dean to think he could handle whatever it was.
"It was about the research," Dean replied, his voice too light, "I can't lie, Sam."
"Right." Sam sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. Dean couldn't lie. So why would a simple question about the research be so disturbing? He cut his eyes to take in his brother. Maybe they had a little more going than just empathy. "So what were you thinking when you asked me that?"
"Not funny, Sam," Dean snapped.
"Wasn't meant to be, Dean." Sam closed his eyes in an attempt to rewind everything he heard and thought. Suddenly, like a movie playing, he could hear and see what just happened inside the car while his attention was elsewhere. Dean did ask about how Sam planned to do this research, but the expression on his brother's face had been distracted and distant. Sam ran it back again, focusing this time on his emotions. His emotions were dark and brooding, which Dean constantly accused him of being anyway. Another emotional run-through showed him Dean's emotions, which were mainly angry. The last time he ran it past his mind's eye, Sam tried to delve into Dean's mind, pick up on his brother's thoughts.
"Stop it!" Dean's voice shook the car, vibrating Sam's entire frame. He opened his eyes to a parking lot, mostly empty. A small library stood to their right, simple brick and a lone tree out front. Concrete surrounded the building and the tree, no room even for a swath of grass around the lonely twig sporting a dozen green leaves. He turned, and the image of what sat to his left burned into his brain, seared there for eternity.
Dean slumped over the steering wheel, clutching his head in his hands. Pain was etched into every crease of his brother's face, the way his fingertips dug into pale skin, the hunch of his shoulders and overall tightness of Dean's frame. "Dean?" he whispered uncertainly. His hand hovered between them, unsure if he caused this or if his touch would help. When his brother did not answer, Sam opted for touch.
As his fingers wrapped around Dean's arm Sam felt the tight muscles there, twitching like his brother was in the middle of a fight, and the same image of their interaction flashed through his mind's eye only this time from Dean's point of view. He knew Dean fought against it and the resistance caused pain to flare behind his brother's eyes.
"Whoa," Sam latched on to his brother with his other hand, brow furrowed in concentration. "Easy now, stop fighting it, Dean."
The instant Dean's muscles relaxed, the pain receded. Sam no longer wanted to see it again and again, to know exactly what Dean said. He repeated that to himself, that he did not want to see it, did not want to know. Dean's arm relaxed even more, leaning in to his hands, in to his touch the way Sam did before. He thought about the light again, that wonderful warmth, and just that fast he could see it radiating from Dean's core. The light spread fast, enveloping first him and then the car, reaching out to everyone and every living thing. The twig of a tree in front of them shimmered with Dean's radiance. A dozen new leaves sprouted as he watched, making the twig look more like a real tree.
Sam dug his fingers into Dean's shoulder. "I think that's enough," he whispered. "You're going to make that tree grow too fast."
Dean's head lifted and he gave Sam this incredulous look. "What? What the hell are you…" Dean's voice trailed off as he turned to look out the window. "Cute tree."
Fear shoved away that glow inside his chest, cold replacing the warmth. Fresh new leaves continued to sprout, unfurl and spread their green surfaces towards Dean. "Sam?" Dean's voice quavered. "Is it…growing?"
"You need to stop," Sam whispered, "before somebody notices and figures out that it's you."
Dean's head tilted slowly toward him. "That it's me?" His eyes were distant and unfocused. "Why would anyone care?"
"Dean!" Sam shook his arm, fear coursing through him. "If other hunters found out, they wouldn't understand. They'd think that you were like…"
Dean's forehead wrinkled and his brother truly appeared confused. "Like what, Sam?"
Sam took a deep breath before answering. "Like me. Come on, Dean. Knock it off."
His words produced an astounding effect. Dean's eyes focused, sharp and clear. His body unfurled in the seat, straight and confident. "What's that supposed to mean? I got smart all of a sudden?" Dean demanded. "There's nothing wrong with you, Sam."
Sam knew this was a touchy subject, but he felt it had to be said. "Then why are other hunters after me, Dean? Huh?"
"Come on," Dean pushed his door open. "We need to figure out what's going on with that building."
Sam blew out a breath before following his brother up to the library. He paused by the little tree, which resembled more of a tall bush now. New life sprouted from every branch. In wonder, Sam reached out to touch one of the new leaves. It turned brown and curled away from his finger, edges shrinking dry and brittle. He yanked his hand away, but it was too late. The dead leaf dangled for a moment before dropping to the ground like a stone. Sam staggered back, stunned.
"Sam! You coming or what?" Dean shouted from the library doorway.
With faltering steps, Sam made his way to the library before his brother got them banned. That tree, it was a little disturbing. Sam attempted to concentrate on the research and ignore what happened outside, chalking it up to coincidence, but he saw the image of that withering leaf on every page. The fact the paper pages of the books allowed him to touch them amazed him.
Dean kept an eye on Sam while he tried researching that building. Sam was distracted, off-balance. A fresh surge of guilt consumed him. Sam was probably worried about that tree, but it wasn't like that was something Dean could have controlled. Then again, that was probably plenty of reason to worry. He forced his eyes down to the computer screen where he attempted to read local hospital records. He just hoped that the replay thing only happened to him and not to the others, or they were going to have some serious problems as soon as the others recovered.