Thank you all so much!! Here is the next chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy it.
Cindy.
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Sam was floating in nothingness. There was no dark, no light, no hot, no cold. There was nothing at all. He felt no pain. He heard no sounds, smelled no scents. Was this what it was like to be dead? Was he dead? He didn't know, didn't really want to know. If he was dead, then Dean was alone. He tried not to think about it, but apparently despite the nothingness he was surrounded by, his mind was fully functioning. He thought of Dean and how he would handle his death. It would not be good. If he had not spoken with Dean before the demon took him, he may have thought that this was what Dean would want. But Dean had told him that he loved him. Dean had searched for and found him, had tried to protect him when the demon had shown up. He couldn't leave Dean alone. He had to get out of this place of nothingness, had to get back to Dean.
Sam fought with everything he had to pull himself from this place, but nothing changed. He tried to get a foothold where none existed. He wished he could feel something, anything. Pain would even be nice. At least if he felt pain then he was probably alive. But he felt nothing. His mind was the only thing that worked and it was giving him little comfort. If he could think, then he had to be alive. So if he was alive, why couldn't he get out of this nothingness? His mind started to sink into despair. He started to shut down, he couldn't handle this void. Just as he thought he would sink into oblivion however, he thought he heard something. He had to be mistaken. How could he hear something when there was nothing there?
Sam strained his ears, hoping to hear it again. If he could hear, then he could possibly get out of wherever he was. When Sam heard nothing, he began to believe it had been his imagination. He started to shut down again, but then he heard it again. He was instantly on alert. The sound was louder this time, but he still could not make it out. He listened intently to try and discern what the sound was.
The sound came again and this time Sam could tell it was a voice. He could not yet tell what the voice was saying or whom it had come from. He turned his head to try and hear more clearly. The voice sounded again and Sam could now hear what it was saying.
"Sammy?"
Sam struggled to move toward the voice. He tried to speak, but could not. He had to get through. He had to let Dean know he was here.
"Sammy, can you hear me?"
'I'm here Dean, I'm here!' Sam tried to shout, but as hard as he tried, he could not speak. Why couldn't he speak, or move for that matter? He had to get Dean to hear him. He didn't want Dean to think he was gone. He had to get through. The voice came again, more urgently this time.
"Sam, please wake up for me man. Sammy, open your eyes!"
'I'm trying Dean! Please keep talking. I can't find you! Please Dean, help me find you!'
Sam thought that if he didn't reach Dean soon, he would be lost to him forever. A lone tear trailed down his cheek, but he couldn't feel it.
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"Sam, wake up sleepyhead," Dean cooed as he gently tapped Sam on the cheek.
Sam had come through surgery just fine and his vitals were improving. There was just the small matter of him waking up. Doctor Ameche had said he should be awake by now, but wasn't overly concerned. He surmised that Sam had been through quite an ordeal and his body was severely exhausted. He assured Dean that Sam would awaken when his body was ready. Dean however was a mess. He needed to see his little brothers eyes, needed to hear his voice. Only then would he be able to relax.
Dean had managed to get some sleep while Sam was in surgery, but not much. And once Sam had been settled in his hospital room, Dean had taken a short nap. Now he was all about getting his brother to wake up, to join the land of the living. He watched his sleeping brother's face, noticing the canula beneath his nose, providing him the oxygen he needed that his fluid filled lungs couldn't provide. Dean so wanted to pick up Sam's hand and give it a squeeze to let him know he was there waiting for him to wake, but he couldn't. Sam's hands were heavily bandaged and both were lying over his stomach.
Dean's gaze rested on Sam's hands. He prayed that Sam would gain complete use of them again. Doctor Ameche said the surgery went as well as could be expected. He had relayed to Dean the extensive damage that was encountered, but seemed optimistic that with intense physical therapy, Sam would be able to use his hands again. He didn't know how much use Sam would regain, but he was more optimistic than he had been before the surgery. Doctor Ameche was careful to point out that Sam was still in serious condition, what with his blood loss and pneumonia. But the doctor was confident that the antibiotics would do their job and Sam would recover quickly.
Dean tapped Sam's cheek again, trying to break through his exhaustion and drug induced slumber.
"Sammy?"
Dean gently shook Sam's shoulder, wanting desperately to see Sam's soft, hazel eyes.
"Sammy, can you hear me?"
There was still no response. Dean brushed his shaky hand through his hair as he turned away. He stood by the window, looking out onto the snow covered grounds. Dean trusted Doctor Ameche when he said Sam was going to recover, but he needed Sam to wake up to really accept it. He needed to hear Sam's soft voice and know that Sam could hear him. No matter what the doctors did to help his little brother, nothing would work if Sam had lost his will to survive. The fact that Sam hadn't woken yet scared Dean endlessly. It made him think that Sam hadn't believed him before. His heart pounded in his chest at the prospect of losing Sam and he turned to his brother again, inching up to the side of his bed. He softly brushed Sam's unruly hair from his eyes, then left his hand resting on Sam's forehead.
"Sam, please wake up for me man. Sammy, open your eyes!" Dean cried as tears filled his eyes. He blinked the tears away and they fell down his cheeks.
Dean was about to turn away again when he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. A single tear softly rolled down Sam's cheek. Sam's eyes then began to move under his lids. Dean bent down closer to Sam's face, cupping Sam's cheek in his palm.
"That's it Sam! Open your eyes. I'm right here waiting for you little brother."
A soft moan escaped from Sam's throat and he slowly moved his head toward Dean.
"Come on Sammy. You can do it. I know you can't wait to lay your eyes on this handsome mug!" Dean coaxed.
Finally, Sam's eyes sluggishly opened and rested on Dean's face. A small smile curled his lips.
"There you are little brother! I was beginning to think you were gonna pull a Rip Van Winkle on me," Dean teased, his spirits lifting immediately upon seeing Sam's smile.
"I...I couldn't...find...you," Sam rasped as another tear spilled from his eye.
"What do you mean Sammy? When couldn't you find me?" Dean asked, confusion in his eyes.
"I woke up...and there...was nothing," Sam whispered. "I c...couldn't find you. But...I followed...your voice."
"Well, you found me Sammy. I'm right here where I belong."
"Dean?"
"Yeah Sam?"
"Are...are you okay?"
"Sam, I'm fine."
"And Bobby?"
"Bobby's fine too. He's out getting a motel room."
"Good. You sure you're okay?" Sam whispered worriedly.
"I'm sure Sam. You made sure of that. Not quite sure how you did it, but you sent that son of a bitch packing!" Dean replied, looking at Sam with both pride and relief.
"Oh my God!" Sam suddenly cried, then began to cough fitfully.
"What! What's wrong Sammy?!" Dean shouted, grabbing Sam's shoulders and helping him to sit up, then lightly hitting his back.
"The man, is he okay? The man who...who was possessed."
"Geez Sam, you scared the shit out of me! The man is okay. He was really freaked out, but he's okay," Dean replied as he tried to calm his breathing.
"Good. Sorry Dean, for scaring you," Sam said softly. Dean helped Sam lay back down after he rearranged the pillows on the bed.
"It's okay Sam. Now, you need to stop worrying about everybody else and worry about yourself."
Sam's forehead suddenly scrunched up and Dean could see pain in his eyes. Sweat beaded on his brow, and Dean automatically went into hyper-protective mode.
"What's wrong Sam? Are you in pain?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.
"N...no, I'm fine. It's nothing Dean," Sam replied breathlessly.
"Don't bullshit me Sam! I know you and right now, you're in pain. Tell me what's wrong," Dean scolded.
"My hands. They really hurt. And my chest. Why does my chest hurt Dean?" Sam answered, wincing as he tried to raise his heavy hands.
"You have pneumonia. That's why they have you on oxygen," Dean replied. "Why didn't you tell me your hands were hurting?"
"They don't hurt that bad. It's okay."
"That's crap Sam and you know it!"
"Fine! I...I don't want anything that will make me sleep."
"Why Sam? You need to rest in order to get better."
"I...I'm scared, okay?"
"Of what Sammy?"
"I'm afraid if I go back to sleep, I...I won't be able to find you again." Sam dropped his eyes to his lap, ashamed to have admitted to Dean that he was afraid.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed and gently grabbed Sam's chin, pulling it up until Sam looked at him. "Sam, you don't have to worry about that. I will always find you. I will always bring you back to me."
"You always do Dean," Sam muffled lightly.
"You got that right Sammy boy! Now just let me get a nurse and we'll get you taken care of."
"You'll stay here won't you? Please don't leave," Sam pled, his soft eyes never leaving Dean's.
"I'm not going anywhere Sam. I'll be here when you fall asleep and I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thanks Dean. Sorry I'm such a pain in the ass."
"Hey, I'm used to it bro," Dean said then stepped out into the hall to flag down Sam's nurse.
Once the nurse came in, she checked Sam's vitals and temperature then shot a syringe of liquid into Sam's IV. She smiled kindly then left the room.
"You're gonna feel better real soon Sammy," Dean said, watching Sam closely.
Sam's eyelids grew heavy as he watched Dean. He shook his head, trying to keep from falling asleep, but he soon lost his battle. As he succumbed to the drugs affects, he quietly whispered, "Thanks De...love ya."
"I love you too Sammy," Dean replied, a smile on his face.
Dean watched Sam as he slept, never leaving his bedside. He gently fingered Sam's bruised and swollen cheek, then glanced at the bandages on his head where the worst of the lacerations from the barbed wire were. He shuddered when he thought about how close he had come to losing Sam. There was still a long road ahead to travel, but he would be there to help Sam every step of the way. He didn't look forward to the pain that Sam would have to endure, but that was better than not having him here at all.
Dean rested his arms on the side of Sam's bed then rested his head on them. He closed his eyes and fell asleep with one thought on his mind.
'I'm never going to let anything take you from me again Sammy. I promise.'
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Well, there it is. I'm really happy to post some wonderful brotherly love, especially after last nights episode. I'm still shaken up about that one. Anyway, please let me know what you think.
Cindy.