Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam sank onto Bobby's couch with a sigh. It was so good to be back home.
He felt the tension melt away as he leaned against the soft, worn cushions and heard Dean turn on the television.
"How are you feeling, Sam?" John asked, surprising the young man.
"Fine," he answered.
"Dad, we just got back," Dean's voice spoke up, "He's not going to break."
"Want a beer, Johnny?" Bobby asked and Sam heard his father move into the kitchen.
"You want something to drink?" Dean asked Sam but the younger brother shook his head, "I'm okay."
He sighed when he heard Dean move into the kitchen and return, opening a can of beer.
"Don't worry Sammy, once you get your new kidney you can drink all the booze you want," Dean assured him.
The eighteen-year old shook his head, "Where's Rayann's book? I think I want to practice a little bit."
SPN
William Edwin Findlay, former director of the Dunhill Psychiatric Hospital in Marshalltown, Iowa did not feel confident.
He was forced to sit in the courtroom, say nothing and watch the evidence against him pile higher and higher.
His lawyer seemed to know they were going to lose and tried his best to prolong his client's judgment. He called recesses, cried 'objection!' to everything the prosecutor said. But nothing helped. The jury was not sympathetic to him at all. Findlay's lawyer could not make him seem a victim as much as the young men and women who had been abducted and held at the North Hall.
William Findlay grabbed his lawyers, tie and drew him close, "Do something!"
The man, his eyes wide, pulled away from his client, "There is just too much going against you, Will. I can force the jury to believe you had nothing to do with what Arthur Bates was doing. They found the kids' files in your office, for God's sake!"
Findlay's blue eyes narrowed, "You're fired."
SPN
Deacon Kaylor smiled as he saw William Findlay become more and more anxious. The man knew he was losing. And how could he not?
The prosecutor brought in Findlay's former employees- orderlies and technicians and drivers- and police officers who were first on the scene when Deacon himself had called in the Feds, to testify against him.
Although none of the youth who had been at Dunhill were put on the witness' stand- they were in protective custody in case Findlay had other friends in the Black Market who might try and abduct them again- the picture the prosecutor painted was enough.
Findlay was not going to escape justice.
SPN
Sam laced his fingers together and cracked the knuckles.
"Wanna take a break?" Dean asked, "You've been at that for hours?"
The younger brother shook his head, "I've almost got it."
"Okay," Dean replied, "If you're sure."
Sam nodded and began concentrating once more on the raised dots of Braille that made up the words in Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are.
SPN
"William Edwin Findlay, do you have anything to say?" Judge Peters asked.
The former director of the Dunhill Psychiatric Hospital fiddled with the lapels of his suit for a moment before standing, "I am also the victim here. Dr. Arthur Bates blackmailed me, your Honour, I lived in fear that he might harm me and my family if I did not allow him to do what he wished. I want the jury to know that an innocent man stands before them today."
Findlay turned around to face the jury, many of whom looked as though they did not believe him for an instant, before taking his seat again.
"The trial will convene once more once a verdict has been reached," Judge Peters hit the gavel once and court was adjourned for the time being
SPN
John frowned slightly when his cell phone rang in his pocket and he picked it up.
"Who'd be calling?" Bobby asked and the father shrugged, "Dunno."
"Hello?" John asked and Deacon Kaylor's familiar voice came on the line.
"William Findlay, the asshole who ran Dunhill," he said without preamble, "Just got a hundred years with no chance of parole for fifty years. Thought you'd like to know."
John smiled and raised his beer can in salute.
"How's Sam doing anyway?" Deacon asked.
"Alright," John replied, his smile disappearing, "His kidney's failed. Has to be on dialysis until the doctors can find him a new one."
"Damn," the police officer swore.
"They're pretty confident that they find one eventually," John said, "For now we just have to wait."
"I'm sure Sam will get one in no time," Deacon agreed.
"Yeah," John muttered.
"Listen, I'll call you some other time," the officer said, "I've gotta go."
"Thanks for the news; I owe you one, Deke," John told his friend and closed his cell.
"What was all that about?" Bobby asked before taking a drink of his beer.
"The mastermind behind Dunhill's going to be in jail for a long, long time," John told his friend.
"Good," Bobby commented, "Pity though that we couldn't have dealt with him ourselves."
John chuckled a little and drained his beer, "You want another one?"
Bobby nodded and John headed inside; the two men had moved out to the porch to give the brothers some privacy while Sam practiced reading Braille.
John glanced at his sons sitting at the coffee table in the living room, large smiles on their faces.
"How's it going?"
Dean looked up and grinned, "Sam can read this book front and back!"
John returned the gesture, "That's great!"
Sam raised his head and gave his father a tentative smile.
John approached the boys and put a hand on his youngest's shoulder, "I'm proud of you, Son."
The father was shocked to see tears form in Sam's milky eyes but he pretended not to notice.
"Thanks, Dad."
John turned quickly and went about his business, grabbing a couple of beers for himself and Bobby.
As he left the house, he heard Sam and Dean- their heads together- whispering, as they had been wont to do when they were younger and didn't want their father to know what they were talking about.
SPN
It hadn't been difficult at all for Randall to find out information on the kid; Sam Winchester.
All he had to do was follow the boy's trail to his room and take a peek at his chart.
A nurse stepped into the room, carrying clean linens, "I'm sorry, are you looking for someone?"
Gorman shook his head, "No, I'm just wondering whom I should talk to about donating a kidney to this boy."
The nurse looked at him in disbelief for a moment, "That would be the patient's physician, Dr. Greene. I can contact him for you."
"Thank you," Randall smiled, trying to let her know he wasn't a psychopath.
She clearly thought he was some lunatic. Who randomly walks into a stranger's hospital room, looks at their medical charts and declares a desire to help them in such a fashion as donating a body part?
The nurse though, called the doctor through the PA system and told Randall that the man would be down soon.
"Do you know him?" The nurse asked as she began changing the sheets.
"Yes," Gorman answered, "We're acquaintances."
That seemed to ease the woman's nerves somewhat but she watched him carefully as she worked, looking much relieved when Dr. Greene appeared and took the man out of the room to discuss his intentions in a more private setting.
SPN
"I don't know about this, Dean," Sam said as he followed his brother outside.
"It'll be fine, Sammy," the older sibling encouraged, "I'll be right beside you the whole time."
Dean smiled at his father and Bobby as he and Sam walked past, winking conspiratorially.
"What're you up to?" Bobby asked suspiciously.
"Come with us and find out," Dean offered.
Both John and Bobby stood, leaving their beers, and followed the two younger men as they approached the Impala.
Dean nodded, satisfied, when he saw that the driveway was clear and he opened the driver's side door, lifting Sam's hand to rest on its top.
"Hold on, Dean," John stepped in and stared at his eldest.
"You're not going to do what I think you're about to," the father asked worriedly as Sam slowly sat down in the driver's seat and found the steering wheel.
Dean nodded and smiled, "I want to know if Sammy can drive."
John opened his mouth in disbelief.
"Are you sure that's a good idea," he asked, "Dean, he's blind."
"I know," his eldest said, "But I'll be beside him the entire time. We won't even go far and if I don't think Sam can handle it, I'll take over. Okay?"
John exchanged a look with Bobby.
"I'm interested to see if the boy c'n do it," the grizzled hunter said, not helping his friend in the least.
"So this is what you two were whispering about earlier. Just… be careful," John said nervously.
Dean nodded and walked around the front of the car to the passenger's side.
"Ready to do this?" he asked and slipped his seatbelt on.
Sam nodded and listened as Dean put the key in the ignition and the Impala roared to life.
"Seatbelt," Dean said and Sam fumbled for a moment for the strap before finding it and bringing it down to the clasp by his hip.
"Just back up nice and slow," Dean instructed, "I'll be your eyes."
Sam gripped the wheel tightly, a bead of sweat dripped down his nose and he blinked uselessly against the white fog in front of his eyes.
"You've done this a hundred times," Dean encouraged and Sam put his foot lightly down on the gas, the car already in reverse.
The eighteen-year old could hear the Chevy's tires crunching over the gravel of the driveway as it slowly inched backwards.
"Keep going, you're doing great," Dean told him and Sam smiled.
The younger sibling pressed his foot a little harder on the gas, causing the Chevy to surge backwards for a moment before Sam quickly touched the break.
"It's okay," Dean's voice said and Sam felt his brother's hand over his own on the steering wheel.
"Go on, Sammy," Dean said and Sam put his foot back on the gas pedal again, "We're not even at the end of the driveway yet."
SPN
Bobby shook his head as he and John watched the Impala creep closer and closer to the end of the driveway.
"That boy is something else," he commented, slapping John on the shoulder.
The father nodded, amazed at his eldest's patience and determination. A lump formed in John's throat and his eyes stung a bit but he ignored them. Dean certainly didn't get his nurturing attitude from him that was for sure. No, the twenty-two year old definitely took after his mother in that regard.
John smiled as Dean pressed down on the Impala's horn and shouted gleefully, celebrating the fact that he and Sam had made it to the Salvage Yard's gate.
He watched as Dean got out of the car and made his way to the driver's side; Sam apparently having had enough excitement for the moment. The eighteen-year old slid across the bucket seats to the passenger's side and Dean took the driver's.
John couldn't help but grin just as widely as his sons as they exited the car, now back in its original parking spot.
"Did you see that, Dad? Sam was great!" Dean exclaimed, one hand on his brother's shoulder.
"That was pretty impressive Sam," John praised and the younger man bowed his head.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"Let's head inside," Bobby suggested, "I don't know about y'all but I'm starved."
Sam and Dean walked ahead of the two older men, Bobby keeping pace with the brothers for a moment to encourage them before dropping behind with John.
"Everything Sam does boosts his confidence," Bobby told John quietly, "Even if he can't drive the Impala again, just knowing that he got it that far…"
John nodded, extremely proud of both his boys for the first time in what felt like ages.
Author's Note:
Thanks to mara-isamoose, SamDeanLover28, cold kagome, whimsicalbarwench, Ghostwriter, mechachic, reannablue, BranchSuper, mandancie, babyreaper, SPN Mum, MysteryMadchen, L.A.H.H for reviewing.
Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
Both John and Sam are making big steps forward. John is really starting to drop his asshole attitude and Sam's become more and more confident in his abilities.
Some lose ends have been tied up with Findlay going to jail for a long, long time (YAY) and help may come to Sam sooner than expected because of Randall Gorman.
Please leave a review and I'll try and update super fast.