Chapter 13

The next day was a bit hard for everyone. Pamela went to her motel room in the morning and said she would return later, but that was all she said.

So she left Dean and Clay alone with Sam.

Sam hadn't changed at all. No one moved him from his spot on the bed, for fear of what it would do to him in his fragile state. He even continued his grim muttering. That, worried Dean to no ends, and made him wonder what exactly Sam was seeing in his head.

Dean wouldn't let Clay in to see Sam, no matter how much he begged. So the two of them sat in the living room in silence, waiting for Pamela to come back or call.

Dean and Clay sat on the couch, as far away from each other as the sofa would allow. Dean twitched his fingers on the arm of the couch to try and pass the time, while Clay looked down at his hands that lay motionlessly on his lap.

"So...how are you today?" Dean asked with a fake smirk on his face, trying desperately to melt the tension in the room.

However, his ice-breaker seemed to only add to the awkwardness as Clay shot Dean an 'are you kidding me?' look.

"Great," Clay quipped sarcastically, "how 'bout you?"

Dean shrugged halfheartedly, "Been better." He responded honestly.

Clay took a deep breath and softened his gaze, "You and Sam are real close huh?"

Dean looked at Clay questioningly, and then nodded.

"Yea, but I mean we're brothers' so…"

Clay nodded, "What's Sam like?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, and coughed nervously.

"I mean what's Sam really like? I don't really know him." Clay whispered almost sadly.

"He's a pain in the ass, most of the time." Dean said with a small chuckle, but relaxed his face when he saw Clay wasn't amused.

"But really, he's an all around good person. I mean, he's the type that feels everyone deserves a chance. He doesn't see things in just black and white, he sees shades of gray." Dean said seriously.

Clay nodded solemnly, and looked back down at his hands.

"Why do you wanna know?" Dean prodded, still looking at Clay.

"I don't really know him. I never had a dad in my life, and suddenly here he is." Clay said as a tear fell from his eye.

"What's with the waterworks?" Dean asked uncomfortably.

Clay sniffled, and let a few moments pass before answering as he gathered himself.

"I don't want him to die." Clay sobbed.

"Whoa, who said he's dying? He's just…" Dean found that he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. He didn't really know what Sam's situation entailed.

Clay gave a humorless, dry chuckle and looked up at Dean, "He's what? He's sleeping?"

Dean didn't answer; he only turned his head away from the child. He refused to believe that Sam was dying, he knew that he wasn't, he just knew it.

"I was just starting to get to know him." Clay said defeated, as he rubbed his nose.

"Don't sweat it kid, Sam will wake up." Dean comforted.

But it made Dean think. What would happen now? Surely they couldn't just leave Clay here with his unsupportive mother, and they couldn't take Clay with them on the road. So what would happen after this?

Would this all be over before Dean's time was up?

An involuntary shiver crept up Dean's spine at the thought, but he only shook it off, even though his due date seemed closer than ever.

Suddenly his cellphone in his pocket rang, and Dean dug in his jeans frantically, and pulled out the small phone.

He looked at the ID, and saw that Bobby was calling.

Dean sighed, and answered the phone, relieved to get away from the awkwardness.

"Hey Bobby." Dean greeted.

"Hey Dean, Pam told me about Sam. How's he doing?" Bobby's gruff voice asked with concern.

Dean sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand with annoyance.

"No change." Dean replied simply.

"Damn," Bobby swore grimly, "How're you holdin' up with the kid?"

"Fine." Dean answered immediately, "Been better, but we're alright…considering."

"Alright, well Pam told me to tell you she'll be over soon. Right now she's meditating on it…I don't really know why, I'm just passing on a message." Bobby chuckled with disbelief.

Dean laughed a dry laugh, "Okay, thanks Bobby."

"You call if you need anything…and try to go easy on the kid." Bobby said with little amusement.

"Will do." Dean replied, and then hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.

Clay looked at Dean curiously, but remained silent.

"That's our friend, Bobby. Maybe you'll meet him sometime." Dean said with fake cheerfulness.

Clay nodded, but didn't really seem too interested.

Instead, Clay looked over at Dean with curiosity and changed the subject.

"Does Sam have a job?" Clay asked with interest flaring on his face.

Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably and cleared his throat of the sudden lump that had formed.

"Yea, we kinda work together…" Dean replied as honestly as he could.

"What do you guys do?" Clay prodded.

"We're mechanics." Dean lied.

Clay nodded, and gave Dean a look of disbelief, but didn't call him out on it. He didn't need to tell Dean that he could feel when a person was lying.

Then, as if on cue to break the tension, there was a loud knock at the door.

Dean and Clay exchanged curious looks, and then Dean stood slowly and walked toward the door. He looked out the peephole, and nodded back at Clay reassuringly as he opened the door and in walked Pamela.

"Any change in Sam?" Pamela asked sympathetically as Dean shut the door behind her gently.

"No." Dean said regrettably as he walked back over to the couch, but didn't sit.

"What do we do?" Clay asked sadly.

"There's not really much we can-", Pamela was stopped short from a loud, pain-filled scream that came from the bedroom.

Dean's, Clay's, and Pamela's heads snapped up at the sound, and the three of them bolted for the bedroom with urgent steps.

When they came to the room, they found the door was locked shut. Dean jiggled the handle frantically and swore under his breath when the door wouldn't budge.

"Stand back!" Dean ordered fiercely.

Pam grabbed Clay and they both stepped back a couple paces.

Dean lifted his foot, and forcefully kicked the door down with one powerful kick.

When he regained his footing, he ran into the room and stood at Sam's bedside with panic clear on his face.

The film was still over Sam's eyes, but he was sitting up now, and screaming as if he were in a great deal of pain.

And as if that weren't bad enough, small objects began flinging around the room as if they were being thrown. The remote to the television, pens, pencils, shoes, DVDs, etcetera.

Dean ducked out of the way of a couple of objects, and put a supportive, but gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Come on Sammy! Snap out of it!" Dean screamed with a hint of fear in his tone.

Suddenly, Dean was hit by an unseen force and flew backwards into the wall behind him so hard that the wall cracked and fractured beneath his back.

He found he was pinned and couldn't move from the spot as demons would do to him sometimes. But he would still put up a struggle, no matter how feeble an attempt it may be.

"I can't friggin' move!" Dean shouted to Pamela who was standing with Clay in the doorway, both of them looking horrorstricken.

Pamela gathered her bearings, and walked into the room and stood by Sam's bedside while skillfully avoiding being hit by a particularly sharp pencil.

"Sam, come on Grumpy wake up!" Pam snapped.

Pam sighed, and then ghosted her hand over Sam's forehead without actually touching him. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow as if in deep concentration.

Whatever she was doing seemed to work because Sam stopped screaming, and small objects ceased from flying across the room. Dean yelped in surprise as the pressure keeping him pinned to the wall evaporated and he fell to the floor on his butt.

"W-what're you doing?" Dean demanded in a whisper as he gasped for breath.

"I'm trying to see what he's seeing, I didn't do anything yet." Pamela admitted, but never opened her eyes or moved her hand.

Suddenly Sam gasped aloud, and fell back against the bed, hard.

Pamela put her hand down to her side and opened her eyes. She watched Sam with great confusion.

His back arched off the bed, and he made a small choking sound that sent Dean back over to his side with a look of worry on his face.

For a moment Dean thought Sam might have been having a seizure, but finally Sam relaxed against the bed with his eyes closed.

"Sammy?" Dean asked in an urgent whisper.

To Dean's utter relief, there was movement under Sam's eyelids and he coughed deep in his chest, alerting Dean to his consciousness.

"Come on, Sam. Wake up!" Dean tried again.

This time, Sam opened his eyelids a crack and Dean noticed that the white film was gone, but Sam's pupils were dilated.

"Good to have you back." Dean said with a sigh and a humorless chuckle.

Sam moaned but didn't say anything, but that was alright for now. He was awake now, and Dean wanted Sam to take it easy.

But if Dean knew Sam at all, he knew that 'taking it easy' wouldn't be on Sam's agenda until he was dead.

This chapter isn't one of my best I don't think, but I figured I should post something because I haven't posted in a few days.

So I woke Sam up for you all. Lemmie know what you think!