Okay, somebody has noticed that i have been kind of vague with Deans injuries. There is a
reason for that. Dean angst coming up. :)
Disclaimer- i own nothing.
Chapter 19
"Dean."
"Yeah." Dean did not look up. He continued to stare, mournfully at his hands.
"Do you want anything to eat?" Dean looked up, incredulous. He looked at the empty bed beside
his and back to his dad again. John caught the meaning behind his gaze. How can you think of
eating at a time like this.
"I...I..."John searched for an explanation."The silence was beginning to tick me off. It is too oppressive." HIs hands came to rest on Deans bed covers.
"I am alright." Dean whispered softly. His gaze fell on the empty bed and he frowned. He
wondered how Sam was.
"How do you think he is holding up?" He asked John.
John looked away. He nodded. "He has been fighting his corner for nearly two hours now."
Dean looked up at the large round clock on the wall. It is only two hours. He thought amazed. It
was the longest two hours in his life. Since he and his father had entrusted Sam to the doctors
Dean had been living in a silent hell. He kept reliving his dream in his head. Reliving his brothers
death in his head. And, no matter what he did to calm himself, his heart began to pound every
time he heard footsteps. It had not been all bad though. Despite his best efforts, Dean had been
dozing, falling in and out of consciousness. He was not unduly worried by this. He figured it was
due to the drugs that were pumping around his system.
"That is my boy." Dean smiled sleepily. He could feel his eyelids droop. He yawned. He leaned
around and fixed his pillows, adjusting them lower. John watched silently, still straight backed in
the chair.
" M'so tired." Dean muttered.
John nodded. "it is okay. It is just the meds son. Do not fight it."
"I guess being a shisque-kebab does not agree with me." Dean smiled wryly at the ceiling. "Wake
me up when Sammy comes back." His eyes dropped against his will.
"Do not worry. I will." JOhn settled back in the chair. HIs eyes were fixed on his son. Deans
breathing became slower and deeper. It was clear he was fast asleep again. John settled down to
watch over him again.
"Sweet dreams Dean." He frowned. The worry he had been holding inside from Dean shone
through on his features. He bit his lip.
He cupped his hands. "Please." He whispered. He closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered again,
praying that someone was listening.
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Dean was small again. He was standing in a familiar corridor. He could feel the heat again. It
burned his face.He could hear the roar of the flames. All of a sudden his dad was there.
Running, to him.
"Dean, take your brother outside as fast as you can." John shoved the baby Sam into his
arms.
Dean was confused. "Now Dean, Go!" Dean did not need to be told twice. Even at his age,
he could hear the urgency in his fathers voice. Feeling the weight of his brothers life in his
hands, he began to run...
Dean awoke for a second. Slightly disorientated, he quickly realized he was back in the hospital
The bed next to him was still empty. He sighed.
"Dad?"
John was slumped in the seat, his hand resting on his arm. At the sound of Deans voice, he
straightened. He was alert. Very much the soldier.
"Yeah Dean?" Johns voice was tender.
Dean was already falling asleep. His eyes were closed. "Sam?"
"Not yet Dean." Johns voice was far off. "Not yet."
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Dean could feel the heat of the fire. It was overpowering. He could hear the familiar roar of
flames. Dean could hear something else, mixed in with the roar of the flames. His brother.
"Sam?" Dean yelled. He crossed the living room of the apartment in five strides. Sam was
curled on the bed, yelling in disbelief. Dean looked to the ceiling. His girl was there, just like
their mom.
Dean barely registered the thought. He ducked down and made towards Sam. The boy was
still yelling. He did not even see Dean. He reached down and pulled Sam from the bed. His
brother struggled. Dean was stronger. He pulled Sam out of the fire again.
When Dean awoke for the second time, it was evening. The lamps beside the patients beds were
lit. They cast glows on each of the patient. Dean felt sick. His throat was raw.
"Dad," He looked down to the chair intending to ask him to get the nurses to dope him up again.
John was not there. He looked over. John was bending over Sams bed.
"Dad." he said a little louder. John turned. He smiled.
"Hey Dean. You are awake." Dean could hear the relief in his voice. Dean frowned. John moved and
he could see the next bed.
"How long was I asleep for?" he asked, amazed.
Sam Winchester lay on the next bed, peacefully. He was awake. Seeing Deans gaze, he smiled
weakly.