Chapter 7 ~ Awakening

Thump... thump... thump...

There he was, back on the road of life.

It was a long wait, but finally the angel had managed to get his feathery ass down to earth for a couple of minutes while two of his best friends were dying. Literally, dying...

Castiel knelt beside Sam's bed. "He will awaken soon." The angel's voice was exhausted, his hands shaking from the task. "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more for him. I honestly wish I was able to fix this - fix both of them completely..." Castiel sighed and looked up at the retired hunter.

"You did more than I could have hoped for," Bobby said with a slight smile, laying a hand on Cas' shoulder. He was relieved that both of his boys would live, and accepted what was and was not within the angel's capability. Cas had tried to heal them both, but since he was disconnected to heaven, his 'angel juice' barely allowed him to zap from one place to another, let alone heal someone. He had tried - it'd nearly cost him his consciousness. Now, he knelt on the floor; nearly downed...

"Balls, Cas!" Bobby hissed as the angel vanished without warning to the fluttering sound of wings.

The older hunter sat in his wheelchair beside the bed where they'd laid Sam's limp form down. He'd been sure he was going to lose at least one of his boys, and he knew Dean would never have forgiven him if he'd sacrificed his brother's life for Dean's. Dean would've beaten him for his decision, or worse, barred him from his life. But Bobby had been desperate - all the blood covering Dean, his boy slowly fading away within seconds. Rufus had shouted at Bobby, yelling that the younger Winchester was going to die, there was so much blood, he didn't know what to do. No ambulance would reach them in time.

Bobby knew he'd had no other choice. Dean's small movement when their eyes met had shown him where the demon had burned the locking symbol into Sam's flesh. He knew he hadn't missed it - unlock, aim, shoot. But he also knew he'd be wounding the younger Winchester badly, maybe even killing him, since he didn't know what kind of injuries the demon might have hidden.

And he'd felt terrible about the decision, a decision he'd had just a split-second to make. Then his hunter's instinct had kicked in and pulled the trigger for him.

When the older hunter realized he was about to lose them both, that he'd just dammed one of his adopted sons to die to save the other, only to fail at saving either... when he'd realized they were bleeding out, running out of time... a neon sign had finally lit above his head, and he'd called for the only one who could possibly save them now.

Castiel.

Two days went by after the angel disappeared. Both Winchesters remained unconscious in their beds in one of Bobby's rooms upstairs.

Castiel obviously had sensed their state immediately when he arrived. The angel had healed Dean, then moved on to his little brother. He didn't say why he'd gone for the older Winchester first, but after a whole two days of overthinking one of the worst times of his life, Bobby figured the angel must have known he couldn't heal both of them completely. If he'd started with Sam, he would've expended all of his angel-juice and Dean would've died.

Castiel had just said that Sam's body was damaged worse, that the demon had been hiding a bunch of injuries and that he hadn't been able to heal them all.

It was what it was, Bobby thought. No one could change it at this point.

Thump... thump... thump...

Damn it, he was alive. And he wasn't supposed to be, he knew it, deep down... he was supposed to be dead. Supposed to be with his little brother. At peace. No more hunting, no more screwed-up lives, just a little peace in heaven on their own.

His eyes fluttered open, lids rolling up slowly. Immediately, he wasn't sure if he should've opened his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to see this world ever again.

A grumpy old voice dug its way through the darkness of his semi-consciousness. "It's about time, kiddo."

The young hunter moaned and groaned. When he stretched his muscles, it hurt. In fact, his whole body felt sore. His vision was pretty blurry, and for a couple of minutes, the world still seemed far away.

"Dean?" It was Bobby, sitting in his wheelchair, a big grin on his face. "There we go, boy. What the hell took you so long?"

At least one of the Winchesters was halfway up and about.

Dean blinked his eyes and rubbed his palms over his face. It almost felt like he was waking up from a really deep night's sleep. "Bobby?" he mumbled.

The next moment, the whole fatal chain of events crashed back into his memory. "Oh, god." Dean's eyes opened wide, staring past the older hunter to the bed behind him. "Sammy!?"

He swallowed hard, then reached up to his own shoulder, expecting a bandage in the place where Ruby's knife had dug deep into his flesh. He wasn't expecting what he found: No bandage, no patch, nothing - just a sensitive spot that felt like a scar. "What-?"

Bobby sighed deeply. "Castiel."

"Cas was here?" Dean said hoarsely. "I thought he ..."

Dean swallowed again, cut off by Bobby's words: "His angel-juice was barely enough... he had enough to heal you mostly. But .."

The older Winchester paled and closed his eyes for a second. Then he asked quietly, "What about Sam? Was he... awake?"

Bobby looked down on his shoes, before he fixed Dean with his look. "No, he wasn't... he was on the verge - Cas wasn't able to fix him, not completely, but he said he'll survive."

The retired hunter's voice lowered. "Any other way, there wouldn't have been enough for both of you. If he'd healed Sam first, there wouldn't have been enough juice left for you. So he chose the middle road, tried to save you both. And I am more than happy about the fact that you'll both live."

Dean nodded, his gaze falling back on his still-unconscious brother. "Did Cas say anything about Sam? You know... if there's anything left?"

Bobby closed his eyes for a moment, sensing Dean's tension. "Yes... more or less. We don't know how he's doing. He hasn't woken up yet... and we don't know in what condition he'll be."

Dean felt his eyes watering. "Oh god..." his words just a whisper.

"It's okay, Dean," Bobby tried to comfort him. "We've had him hooked up to IVs for the last two days to be safe. You'll see, he's going to be okay."

"What about the demon?" Dean turned his head and watched the ceiling, trying to focus. "Is it gone?" His voice was still hoarse as hell.

"It's not dead, if you mean that," Bobby added a sigh. "But it's gone."

Dean nodded.

"I'm gonna make you something to eat and bring you a beer, boy." Bobby smiled. "Well, Rufus'll bring it; the idjit needs work. You can't imagine how much the guy's done - baked around 14 pies in the last 48 hours."

"I'm not hungry, Bobby." Dean stared at the ceiling, wishing he hadn't woken up. He felt wrong somehow. He'd thought he was going to die, and he'd been cool with it. He'd thought he'd find the rest he and his brother finally deserved.

"Shut up!" Bobby looked angrily at him. "Sam will be all right. You will be all right. Now keep your ass down for a couple more hours, and then I'll show ya what we found about the guys who took Sam in the first place - including the demon that possessed your brother. Or you can listen to it all by yourself. Rufus and a couple of others were pretty active while you were out cold."

That caught Dean's attention. "So there's a plan?"

Bobby nodded, a sparkle in his eyes. "Yes, son, it sounds that way."

Another two days passed. Dean was up and around, feeling like the same old Winchester he'd been before.

Before he'd been stabbed by his demon-possessed brother.

He was sitting by the kitchen table with Bobby and Rufus, more or less enjoying a breakfast with coffee, bacon and scrambled eggs. Dean mostly just pushed the food around his plate, staring at the scrambled eggs like they were something he had to hunt down with his fork.

"Don't stab it, boy. Eat." Rufus raised his eyebrows, mouth full of bacon, and stared at Dean. "You're no fang, so stop playing with your food."

Dean had never thought seriously about Rufus before the past two days. He was truly a good friend, and already counted as family. Yeah, he was weird sometimes, and at points he acted like he wasn't the brightest bulb, but he was a friend. A true friend, a guy Dean knew he could count on - assuming he gave him the right directions and orders, anyway.

A light smile rushed over Dean's face when he looked up. "Shaddap, Rufus." It was a thank you, Winchester-style. Then he let out a deep sigh, and his face turned dark and thoughtful again. "I think, if Sam doesn't wake up in the next twenty-four hours, we'll have to take him back to the hospital, no matter if I want to or not." The older sibling closed his eyes quietly for a second. "He's living on IVs right now, but he's going to starve. He's getting weaker already, and he'd already lost too much weight. He can't take this much longer."

Both older men just nodded, their gazes falling to their own plates.

It seemed like they'd all lost their appetites now.