Chapter 3 ~ Silence
Dean got a room in some no-name-motel near the hospital, to be as near his brother as possible.
Anger rose in him. A different anger, not the one he felt when he'd been thinking about his little brother before. Anger about what had happened to Sam, about how he even could've thought this would end well for both of them. They were never stronger when they were separated.
Dean had called Bobby after leaving the hospital and getting the motel room. He'd talked to him for a long while. Well, it was more like listening at some points. Bobby didn't sound mad - more caring than their dad ever would have sounded, probably. He said he'd get there in a couple of hours with information about the guys who had captured Sam.
So Dean had booked a room with two beds instead of one (and actually inspected the room before renting it, to be sure Bobby wouldn't have any issues with his wheelchair). He hadn't done this - gotten two beds - since he and Sam had split.
Now it felt like it was too late even to apologize. Too late for everything.
Bobby told Dean that he'd find out some stuff from the police about the guys who captured and tortured his little brother. Sam was alone in the building when the police squad entered it. That was the only information the older hunter had so far.
Tortured... how the hell could they both have been that stupid? How could they ever think splitting up was the best solution?
An indescribable pain rushed through Dean's chest. His heart felt like it was tearing apart and breaking into millions of pieces. The feeling of Sam's soft fingertips meeting his for not more than a second... The sobbing broken voice of his brother echoed in his mind. He couldn't think about anything else now...
Dean was used to turning to drinking - whiskey, bourbon, whatever would make his pain go away. But this time he couldn't. He knew this kind of pain wouldn't go away, not even if he killed both bottles of the cheap whiskey he carried in his duffel-bag.
Whatever happened in the past, Sam hadn't deserved to be torn apart. He hadn't deserved to be beaten up. If someone did deserve to be tortured, it was him, Dean. He had let it happen. He was the one who had trusted that bag of dicks.
He'd trusted Cas.
He felt like it was all his fault now, even though he knew it wasn't. Trying to wash his pain away with alcohol wouldn't help Sam. It wouldn't make anyone feel better. He'd just end up sleeping off his drunkenness tomorrow instead of visiting his brother.
But it was Sam who had the demon blood. It was Sam who'd broken the last seal. It was Sam who had apologized more than once for it, taking all the fault on his shoulders, wrapping himself up in it. Pathetic...
STOP.
Dean was sorry for the things he'd said to his little brother back at that motel. Deep down, he probably hadn't even meant any of it. "You're a monster." That he was now one of the things he was used to killing. That he didn't know him anymore. That a part of Dean wanted his brother dead. That he was sorry for saving his sorry little ass all the time. And much more... Dean couldn't remember everything he said, but he knew the worst thing he'd told him: "I wish you had died instead of mom."
He could still see Sam's hurt look, his little brother's heart breaking, as if it were yesterday. He felt so sorry for all the horrible things he'd said to him in anger.
Sorry? "Sorry" didn't cut it this time... not for this feeling deep down in his guts ever since he'd entered Sam's room, this feeling that was tearing him apart and torturing him for every single word that had left his mouth weeks ago.
Now it was probably too late for everything. He couldn't undo it. He couldn't turn back time. But there was one thing he could do - help his little brother get through it.
The way Dr. Roberts had explained Sam's state of mind was depressing. He said that most of the time, his little brother was out of it, lost somewhere else deep in his mind, buried under all the things that had happened. "The trauma." When Sam was ready... IF he was ever ready... he would probably leave it behind.
If... The doctor said no one could predict if he would ever get better. Since Dean was here now, he would probably give Sam a reason to stay in this world called reality... maybe... but even so, it would take a lot of time to heal. To leave the darkness behind.
The other thing that troubled Dean was that Dr. Roberts wanted to move Sam to another room in a special long-term psychiatric ward in the hospital. The only good thing about that was it meant that his little brother's injuries had healed well, and they would need his current room for someone else sooner or later.
Dean let out a deep sigh as he leaned against the cold tiles of the shower, thinking over the hours that had passed since the hospital had called him...
Then...
The older Winchester sat on the floor near the dark corner where the uneasy sobs came from. He could hear whimpering sounds, begging for something.
Dr. Roberts told him Sam had barely been eating or drinking since he arrived at the hospital, and he hadn't eaten anything before he then, either. The doctor didn't specify how he knew that, but he knew it, so Dean chose to believe him on this. Furthermore, the side effects of the sedatives probably weren't helping, but the doctor told Dean they were needed for changing the bandages and cleaning him up. Otherwise none the staff would be able to come near him except Nancy.
"Sammy, it's okay," he said for at least the thousandth time since he'd sat down. It still felt a little bit wrong to call his little brother that after all that had happened, all his not being there for him. It felt like he didn't deserve to get to call him that anymore.
The older Winchester stared into the darkness. If it wasn't for the sobbing and whimpering, he would've thought he was alone in the room.
"Bobby's getting us bacon cheeseburgers and french fries." Dean kept his voice calm and gentle. "Coke and iced tea for you, tiger, beer for me. What do you think, Sam?"
Something shifted in the darkness of the corner, and the sobbing got quieter. Dean reached his open palm in Sam's direction.
"Don't you wanna come here, Sammy?" he whispered with a soft smile, desperation in his eyes. "Just for a while?" Dean dared to move a little bit closer towards the corner. "I'd like to see you, kiddo."
The movement in the corner stopped, and then something appeared... Sam's hand, again reaching for Dean's. The big brother inched closer until he was nearly touching his sibling's shaky hand, and waited for something to happen.
Then he felt Sam's hand gently touching his, Sam's fingertips running over Dean's fingers and palm. It felt like his little brother was looking for proof that there was truly someone else in the room with him. Then Sam slowly moved entirely toward his big brother, like he longed to leave the dark corner of the room. Slowly Sam's hand made its way up Dean's arm and shoulder, then his neck and throat.
It tickled when Sam crawled his way over the older Winchester's clothes, but Dean didn't care. He just waited, staring at the figure that had decided to leave the darkness.
Sam's arm was patched up a lot, and his fingers looked bruised in the fading light. The dark stains on the bandages on his little brother's wrist brought a worried look to Dean's face.
The second thing he saw was his brother's hair, which hung down into his face, covering his eyes completely. Sam obviously didn't dare look up to catch a glimpse of the man he was discovering by touch.
Finally, his little brother's fingertips reached Dean's throat and rested there for a couple of seconds, as if waiting for any sign of movement. Then they ran down towards Dean's chest, more and more frantically.
And finally Dean got it.
Sam's hand stopped at a certain place on Dean's chest, groping along the small hard bulb under the fabric and then gripping it tight.
The amulet...
Dean sat there on the floor on a thick blanket, leaning into the corner. His arms were wrapped around the little brother who sat curled up between Dean's legs, side and head pressed against his big brother's chest, listening to his calm, steady heartbeat... thump... thump... thump...
He didn't dare move. He didn't even dare breathe deeply, not since Sam had fallen asleep in his arms some time ago... or at least stopped shivering and shaking. He was still gripping the amulet under Dean's shirt, holding the thin fabric-wrapped lump in his fist.
Dean didn't know how long they sat there. It didn't really matter. It felt right, like Dean was back on track, back where he belonged. Him and his pain-in-the-ass little brother against the world... just how it was meant to be.
The older sibling listened as he heard the knob of the door creak, glancing over where it came from to see a small figure entering and closing the door behind her.
"Sam?" It was Nancy, a tray in her hands. "...Dean?"
She hesitated for a moment. "Is everything okay?"
Dean's gazed down at his little brother. "Yeah, everything is fine." As fine as it could be, his mind added.
"Sam's asleep?" she asked quietly, kneeling down to put the tray and something that looked like two paper bags on the floor in front of them.
"Yeah, he is," Dean answered with a lowered voice. "Can we... can we get some more light?"
Dean knew why it was dark in the room. The doctor had explained it, had mentioned it at least twice before he had first entered the room, Nancy by his side. But he thought it was about time to get more daylight into the room, to accustom Sam a little bit more to day and night. And that way they could also see what they were eating...
Nancy nodded even though the older Winchester couldn't see her, and stood up, turning towards the window. She raised the blinds a little bit; now, even the dark corner didn't seem quite as dark anymore.
Dean's gaze fell on the two paper bags on the floor in front of him. "Bobby?" he asked quietly, concerned that he would wake his brother if he raised his voice any more.
Nancy nodded, crossing to the bed to grab one of the blankets and put it over the two men on the floor. Dean nodded thankfully as he wrapped the blanket around his brother and himself; Sam's skin had felt a little bit cold with just his thin shirt from the hospital and his pants.
Was there any chance in the world of getting his little brother back? With that thought, Dean drifted off to sleep. Hoping... praying...
Begging.
A tight grip on his chest and a soft tug on his necklace woke the older Winchester gently. He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his brother's hair. Sam's head was still resting on Dean's chest, but his brother seemed awake now. At least, the near-silent mumbling made him think so.
"It's okay, kiddo." Dean stroked over his brother's head gently. "I'm here. You're not alone." He wasn't sure if he was trying to soothe his little brother or himself with his words.
Sam's grip on the amulet tightened a little bit. It felt like it was the one thing his brother was clinging to.
"Are you hungry?" Dean's looked back at the paper bags - probably cold already, but damn it, Dean was starving.
Sam gave no response, not that Dean was really waiting for one anyway.
"I guess that's a yes," he said, moving his stiff body a little. His little brother tightened his grip on his shirt and pressed himself harder into his big brother's torso.
The older Winchester hesitated for a moment.
"C'mon, little brother." Dean shoved Sam a little bit away and tried to reach the paper bags, but they were too far away. "Hey, Sammy, just let me go for a minute, okay?" Dean could hear the impatience in his own voice. "Sam?"
He reminded himself that Sam probably didn't even understand what he was talking about. A sorrowful deep sigh left Dean's lips. The more he tried to get away from him, the more anxious his brother seemed to become. Then, unexpectedly, Sam let go and moved close to the wall, leaning against it and rocking back and forth, mumbling louder. Dean still couldn't understand a single word, even though he tried.
It hurt like hell to watch Sam act that way. To see him like that, torn and broken, like a beaten-up dog left alone in a pit full of darkness and agony. He knew then there was no way he'd let his little brother get transferred to the long-term psychiatric floor, leaving him alone... no way.
He'd take him home - they wouldn't be able to help him here. Dean wouldn't be able to help him if he stayed here.
Home... He had to talk to the doctor and Bobby about it. Bobby's house was probably the only building in their lives that had come close to something that could be called home. The Impala wasn't the kind of home where he could take care of Sam until he was his old self again. A motel-room wouldn't do, either. They needed a house, a roof over their heads, for more than a couple of days and maybe for even longer... A lifetime...
Dean grabbed the paper bags and opened them. The smell of cold burgers and fries filled the air. For a second, he thought about calling for a nurse who might be able to heat their food up. But Dean didn't want to move any further away from Sam, not even just that far, not right now. If he moved away now, Sam might not let him come near again for some time.
Yes, Dean was afraid of that, afraid of scaring his little brother if he left him again. He knew at some point he would have to leave him from time to time, at least for a couple of minutes... but not now.
Dean reached into the bag, grabbed one of the burgers and unwrapped it. "There you go, kiddo." He held it out towards Sam and waited.
His brother didn't even look up.
"Sammy?" he asked gently. "I know it's not what you usually eat..." Not sure you'd care about that right now, though...
Dean placed the burger near Sam's feet and got his own. A cold burger was far away from heaven, but he honestly didn't care. He was starving already.
It took some time before Sam raised his eyes over his knees, and even more time before he reached out for the meal. He carefully ran his fingers over the burger like he might burn himself on it. Finally, he took it and ripped it apart slowly, eating one small piece after another. Dean smiled lightly at that and placed one of the bags of fries in front of Sam, along with his iced tea.
When Dean was done eating, he sat still and watched his little brother's shaky hands strip the food into small pieces. When he reached for the fries, fearful hazel eyes glanced over at his big brother, silently asking if he was allowed to take them.
At least he'd eaten... and was drinking...
Dean got the beer bottle and twisted it open. At the sharp noise of the cap popping off, Sam dropped his fries and curled up as small as he could.
Dean flinched at his brother's sudden movement. "It's okay, it was just me." He sat his hand on Sam's knee and watched him. "Just me, Sammy. Go on eating, kiddo."
As if Sam understood, he looked up at his big brother and seemed to relax a little bit - not eating anymore, just watching Dean as he finished off the beer.
Once it was gone, the older sibling raised himself from the floor, stretching his whole body with a deep moan. He'd definitely spent too much time on the ground.
"I think we need some more light in here," Dean said to himself and went to the window, lifting the blinds a little bit and watching for his brother's reaction. He had no clue how late it was, or even what day it was. Everything seemed relative and blurry at the moment, like it was all just a bad dream or something...
"Boys?" Nancy stood by the bed, watching the sleeping brothers on the floor. Sam was curled up on his side next to his big brother.
She tried again, this time a little bit louder. "Boys?" She placed the fresh towels, bandages, and clothes for the younger Winchester on the bed, ready to act.
Dean groaned huskily and his lids fluttered open. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't lying in a bed. It took him a couple second more to realize he was on the floor next to his brother, and even longer to remember that he was in a hospital room. It hadn't been a dream...
"Yeah?" he moaned.
"I'm sorry, but I need to get your brother cleaned up and change his bandages," Nancy said, a sad smile on her face. "Dylan will be here in a few minutes to help me with it. In the meantime, why don't you pick up some coffee or visit the cafeteria downstairs?" She looked hopefully at the older Winchester.
Dean hesitated for a moment, his gaze falling on his brother, obviously still asleep. He didn't want to leave him alone. Not again. Not like this.
"Will it hurt him?" He was pretty concerned. Dean couldn't imagine that they'd be able to change his brother's bandages without putting him through hell in some way.
Nancy pressed her lips together and stared at the older Winchester. "We'll need to sedate him. I don't think you should watch." She was right, to be honest - Dean would give them at least as much hell as they were going to give Sam.
"...Let me patch him up by myself." Dean knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had to at least try. "If there's anything that concerns me, I can let you know." It wouldn't be easy, for sure.
Nancy stood there, eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry, but I can't. At least one of us has to be with you, just in case." Dean just looked at her, stabbing her in his mind. "He could hurt himself," she added. Then, softly, "He could hurt you."
Dean smiled in disbelief.
"I just want to get through it as fast as possible. If he's asleep and we can sedate him before he wakes up, it will be much easier for him and for us." Nancy seemed pretty convinced about her words.
"No." Dean's eyes went dark as he started to get up from the floor. "I'll clean him up and change his bandages - but when, and only when, he's awake. You can watch if you want, but you will not lay a hand on him or give him a sedative." His eyes flickered dangerously. "ARE. WE. CLEAR?"
Nancy stared at him for a moment. "As you wish... but don't say I didn't warn you."
Now.
And so here he was, Dean Winchester, with no clue how to get his broken brother into the shower. Or how to convince Sam to even get into the bathroom with him.
He thought about it for a while, playing through scenarios in his head. None of them went the way he wanted them to. Finally, the older Winchester simply knelt beside his still-sleeping brother and brushed his hand gently over his shoulder.
"Sammy?" he asked hesitatingly. "Come on, wake up little brother. We've got work to do."