THEN THERE WAS LIGHT

CHAPTER 5

Dean became more and more restless, more irritated the longer he pushed himself from returning to the light. It was like an addiction, and he needed his fix. He had taken countless showers, moved to every inch of the room, left an imprint in the carpet where he paced back and forth for so long.

Sam felt helpless. He knew this was miserable for Dean, but there wasn't anything he could do, except sit and watch his brother slowly go insane while he, at least pretended, to be preoccupied by the screen on his laptop.

"I can't do this, Sam!"

"Yes, you can, you're doing good!"

"NO! No, I'm not! Man, I'm going crazy, and I'm tired as hell, and I think I've taken all the showers I can stand. I can't drink any more caffeine. I just need to sleep!"

"You can't!"

"I'm going crazy here, man! I can't do this shit anymore!"

"Yes, you can, I'm not going to let you become one of those things, no matter what we gotta do, I'm not going to let you go down that road."

"Yeah, sure, that's easy for you to say!" Dean's irritation was obvious in his voice. "You're not the one going through hell here!"

"Dean, it's not that bad."

"Yes, it is! How the hell would you know? You're not going through this. You don't know what this feels like."

Sam sat the laptop beside him, adjusted his seated position. "So, tell me then."

"What?"

"Tell me. What's it feel like?"

"Man." Dean just shook his head. "Just forget it."

"No, tell me, Dean. Sit down, and talk to me."

Dean sat on the edge of his bed. "I don't know how to explain it. I just… I need it okay? I need the… the comfort, the good feeling. I just… I need it, more than you could possibly imagine."

"It's become an addiction?"

"Man, I'm not addicted to shit! Just shut the hell up!"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Not what it looks like to me, I mean, come on Dean. Call it what it is, you're restless, you're getting way more irritated than normal, your hands are shaking, hell your whole body goes through trembles. You're sweating. Need I go on?"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

Dean stood, pacing the floor again. "Man, forget this shit! I'm going to sleep, damn it!"

"Dean, you can't."

"Yeah? Watch me!"

Dean fell on his stomach on his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

"This is what it wants, why can't you see that, Dean? It wants you to need it, to not want to leave it, that's how it's going to turn you."

"It's just sleep, Sam."

"Really? And what the hell do you think you're going to dream of? Huh?"

"So, you think I'm just going to go to sleep and wake up some fuggily ass creature?"

"I don't know. I don't know how any of this works, but neither do you, and do you really wanna take the chance?"

Dean pulled the knife out from under his pillow and the gun from his waistband, he laid both on the table between the beds and pushed them Sam's direction. "Yeah, I do."

It only took him just a short minute for his breathing to change. For the lightness to take over.

Dean's mind was in a turmoil, he wasn't sure what way to go, or what to think. At first, the lightness had taken over, but, at the edges was the darkness, lurking, waiting to overtake the light.

Dean saw an image of a memory. Sam had gotten hurt on a hunt. Dean, like always, took the blame for Sam's mistake. He had to. Dad was pissed and he knew his anger would take over, and he would need someone to lash out at. Sam's eyes begged Dean not to put himself through that, but Dean couldn't let Sam see the true colors of their dad. He couldn't let him see his anger. He loved his little brother too much for that, besides it was his job to keep him safe, and that included keeping him safe from their dad.

Dad made Dean patch his brother up. He didn't want anything to do with it, since it was Dean's fault. But, he didn't mind, he would rather be the one to take care of Sam anyhow, and truth be known, Sam would rather have Dean too. Dean was comfortable. Dean was love. Sam knew that. Dean could see it in Sam's eyes.

He cleaned his brother up, and patched what need to be sewed and bandaged. He gave him some pills for the pain and made sure he had a glass of water beside him. He had tucked his brother into bed, no matter how much Sam acted like he wanted to protest that he wasn't a kid anymore, Dean was going to make sure he was well taken care of regardless.

Once Sam was asleep from the effects of the pain meds Dean had purposely given him. John let his anger out. Dean was expecting it, that's the reason he had chosen to give his brother something that would keep him out of it.

His dad started screaming at him, throwing punches. There was no love in his eyes, nothing that showed he regretted what he was doing. Dean looked around, the darkness had creeped in, it was taking over the light. 'No' Dean thought to himself, he wanted the light, he wanted the love and the comfort. This, this was pain, this was heartache. He didn't want this. He wanted the good feeling.

His dad yelled at him about being more careful, about how he could have gotten his brother killed. The fact that it couldn't have possibly been Dean's fault didn't matter. He took the blame so John was going to let him take the punishment too. At some point his head had shattered the mirror above the sink.

He tried to escape. He tried to leave the memory, to find a different one, to find the light again, but he couldn't. He was stuck. He couldn't move from this darkness. It was wrapping itself around him, holding him in place, watching the pain that was inflicted on him.

Dean fought, he struggled to get away, pulled himself from the darkness. Falling backwards, he landed on his back, but, he was in the light again. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to feel this fear while in the light. The light was supposed to be a peaceful place. It was his comfort, not his fear, not his panic.

He realized he was starting to panic, fear was building inside of him. He was scared to move, scared to see anymore, he didn't want the darkness taking over the good memories again. He chose to lay on the floor, curled into a ball, too afraid to move, too afraid the light would leave again.

He laid there, shaking, filled with fear, but also full of the need to fill the emptiness, the need to fill the fear with peace. He had this need to move on closer to the warmth of the light. With shaking arms, he pushed himself into a seated position. His legs equally as shaky when he stood. With hesitation, he made his way down what looked like a long hall way.

It wasn't the comfortable cloud that he remembered from the light. This took effort to move forward. It was almost too much, he was ready to just lay down, to give up, completely. But, if he just kept going, just a little further, maybe he would find the light he was looking for. Maybe he would find the warmth he was itching to find.

As he walked, the memories, the images, started coming to him. They started slowly making their way, surrounding him in a circle of memories. At first, they were all good memories. He watched his brother laugh. He watched his dad give him an approval pat on the back. He saw the proud look in his dad's eyes when he looked at him. He watched his dad beam with pride as Dean's hunting skills became as good as his. He watched Sam graduate high school.

Then, the darkness started making its way into the images. He watched as his dad was proud of his hunting skills, he was proud that Dean killed the monster, but followed it up with the comment of him needing more training, that even though, he did everything right, it still wasn't good enough. Then, he saw the concern in his dad's eyes as he made him start the training process, running from his dad, hiding, to protect himself. And he watched as the love and concern left his dad's eyes as he beat him when he was caught.

"No! NO!" Dean screamed into the light that was mixed with the darkness. "Stop! Just stop! This isn't the way it's supposed to be, this isn't right, I need the light, I need the comfort, not this!" He screamed into the emptiness.

The memories had turned dark again. He wanted nothing more than to escape it, he needed to wake up, to leave this nightmare, but, what if he could push on, just a little further, maybe the light would be there? He NEEDED it, and hadn't found what he needed yet.

Maybe Sam was right? Maybe it's an addiction, really, it didn't matter, as long as he found what he needed he didn't care what it was called. He pushed his way through the darkness, it was hard. The darkness was thick, it took a lot of effort, but he managed. It almost completely drained every ounce of strength he had, but he needed to get away from it, he needed to find the light.

Everything around him was different. It was more of a gray. Not light, not dark, kind of like a cloudy day, with thick, gray rain clouds. This wasn't right. This wasn't what he wanted either. He turned, looking all around him, he felt like he was spinning, like the empty grayness around him was spinning, faster and faster. He didn't feel the comfortable warmth, but he didn't feel the overwhelming fear filled panic either. It was more like a nothingness. Like an emptiness. Like the way he felt every day of his life.

He wanted his dad back. He had never wanted him so much. He wasn't sure why, he supposed what he really wanted was the light filled memories of his dad. Those were the snapshots of the dad he remembered, the dad he longed for his whole life. The dad he wanted back.

"Dad! Dad!" Dean started crying out for him, he had hoped he was nearby, that he could hear him calling for him. He needed him to save him. He needed to be saved, but he never came. Why wouldn't he come? Maybe Sam would?

"Sam! Sam!" Dean yelled. "Sam, help! SAMMM save me!" There was no reply. "Sam!" Dean had lost all will to push on. He curled onto the floor again, shaking, and sweating. He needed his 'fix' as Sam called it, but, he wasn't able to find it. Something was wrong. Something was blocking his light. The darkness had come in.

'Okay, Dean, think, think, think of the light, not the darkness. Your mind is too screwed up, you've let Sam get into your head, let him mess it all up. Just think of the light. You have to want it.'

Dean was trying hard to straighten his mind, he needed to concentrate on what he wanted. If Sam would come here with him, then he would understand. He would understand how much he's messed it all up. He would understand how much he needed the light to keep him strong, to keep him going.

He wasn't strong right now, he was curled in a ball on the floor. He was at the weakest point he could possibly be. He needed to warmth to fill him, to give him strength.

Dean slept restless. He tossed and turned, not the peacefulness he had the past couple nights. He mumbled, and fought the air around him. He had called out for their dad and for Sam.

Sam desperately tried to wake him. Somehow, he wasn't able to get through to him. Dean couldn't hear him, or feel him shaking him. Dean was lying in a pool of sweat.

"Oh god, Dean, you're burning up, man, come on you gotta wake up for me."

There was no reply. Sam knew it was desperate measures, but the situation called for it. He had filled the tub full of cold water and carried Dean into the bathroom, placing him in the coldness. He had hoped it would wake him, it at least should have warranted some type of response. But, there was nothing. Nothing except what was going on in his dreams. He hadn't even registered that there was another world beyond what was in his head.

Feeling the defeat, he dried Dean off, putting him in dry clothes and warming him back up. He carried him back to the bed, watching him fight his own mind.

A tear fell down Sam's face. "Hey, Dean, if you can hear me, I really need you to at least give me a sign, man. I need you to come back to me. I need you to wake up. You can't do this to me! You can't turn into one of those. You can't make me have to keep my promise to you. Its… it's not fair! I can't do that, and you know it, you need to wake up and let me save you. Please!"

Sam was crying and begging to a sleeping Dean. He was more than just sleeping. He was lost, lost in his own head. A place that has brought him both comfort and pain. He was trapped, that Sam could tell. Dean was fighting, but what he was fighting against he wasn't sure. Maybe he was fighting to wake up? Maybe he was fighting to stay asleep?

Sam could understand the turmoil Dean must be feeling. He knew his life wasn't easy, and honestly, he couldn't blame him if he chose to stay asleep, to avoid the heartache life brought, but he knew Dean well enough to know he wouldn't want that if it meant he became a monster. He especially wouldn't want that if it meant Sam would have to kill him. He would do anything to save Sam from having to do that.

"Come on, Dean, you can't do this to me. It's your job to protect me, to keep me safe, right? How the hell is making me have to burn you keeping me safe? How the hell is that supposed to protect me? How the hell do you expect me to live with that? How the hell do you expect me to live with myself?"

There was still no change in Dean. Sam had grabbed his hand and held on tightly. He was pleading with him to wake up. He needed him, he needed him to wake up. If Dean had an addiction to the light and needed a fix, then Sam had an equal addiction, it was his brother. He needed him, Sam needed his 'fix' he needed Dean to wake up, to be there with him, to help him and support him. He couldn't do this without him.

At one point, he thought he could. He had even left him, and their dad, and thought he would be able to have a normal life, get a college degree and live the apple pie life. But, it wasn't that easy. It took him awhile to figure out how to live any way besides the way he was raised.

Some of it he enjoyed, but the hardest part was not having Dean there. There were more times than he would ever admit that he wished Dean was with him. He needed someone to talk to, someone who loved and supported him, someone to tell him he was doing a good job. But, he didn't have that. Not until he met Jess.

But, now even she was gone. The same way their mom was. And, Dad, he was gone too. Dean was all he had left, but, he was also all he needed. He knew there was no going back for him. There was never going to be a such thing as a normal life for him, there was only this life, and despite what he once thought, this was all he would ever have, and there was no way he could do it without his brother. There was no way he would want to do this without Dean.

"Dude, I can't do this without you. There's no way in hell I'll be able to keep going with you gone, especially if… if… I have to… you know, light you up, keep the promise you made me make, keep you from hurting anyone." Sam's tears were falling, unchecked. He continued to hold on tight to his brother's hand.

Dean tried to get back up, he decided he needed to, that was the only way he would be able to find the light. But, for some reason he couldn't. His hand, it felt too heavy. He couldn't lift it. There was something holding it down. The rest of his body was free to move, but the one hand he couldn't seem to get it to work.

Confusion had set in, he couldn't manage to fight the feeling, to pull himself away from the weight. He stretched out with his other hand, trying to reach anything that was away from where he felt stuck. He needed to find the light, no matter what it took. 'maybe it's within reach' he thought to himself, but as he reached out the only thing he could feel was the thickness of the clouds.

The gray clouds seemed to be floating closer to him. They were surrounding him. They started choking him, making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He was feeling suffocated by the clouds that were now surrounding him, squeezing his body, tighter and tighter.

Dean couldn't hold the cries in. He cried out in pain as the clouds seemed to be pressing a weight against his body that he couldn't handle. It was causing pain. Not the same pain the darkness caused, that was an emotional pain. The gray, it was causing a physical pain, one that caused him to cry out in pain. One that took his breath away as it constricted his chest.

He was frozen. The pressure coming from everywhere. He couldn't seem to move, or fight. The same weight that held his hand in place was now holding his shoulders down. He felt it move from his shoulders to his chest, back to his shoulders, then to his head, and once again, ended on his shoulders.

His mind was swimming. He couldn't think. There was no oxygen in his body. He felt like he was…dying. "NO!" he cried out through the pain. 'I can't be dying, I can't' he thought to himself. 'Sammy, Sammy needs me, I can't leave him. I can't die'!

Soon, the only thought that he could manage to pull up was one simple word. But, the most important word of his life. The strongest word, the one strong enough to break through the pain and confusion. The one word that gave him the strength to manage to make sound come past his lips, despite the lack of oxygen, despite the logic. He needed to scream, he needed to scream his word, more than he needed to find the light.

"SAM!"