Chapter Text
It was dark. Somehow he was still alive after enduring the most terrible pain he could ever imagine. Or was he? He remembered trying to protect himself from the attack of the hellhound. He remembered how his body was torn to shreds. He remembered all the blood, being in so much pain that he wished he would die. Apparently he had. At least the pain was gone.
He opened his eyes. He was surrounded by darkness. He started to realize where he was. He was stuck in some kind of net. He knew that he had to get loose, but he couldn’t. He felt the panic rise within him.
He heard screaming. Dark shades seemed to be closing in on him. He started to scream in pure agony for the only person that could help him, for the only person he loved. But it was too late. He knew it. He was forever lost. He’d never see his brother again.
He started to cry when he realized that, and he screamed at the top of his lungs. He cried out his brother’s name. But then the scenery changed.
Dean woke up in a bed. His whole body ached. He had trouble breathing, and gasped for air. This whole situation felt very familiar. He had been through this before, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in a hospital.
The pain was not as severe as he had felt before. His body felt numb, restrained by all the tubes and IVs that were connected to his damaged body. He tried to yell his brother’s name, but it was almost impossible.
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“My God! He's awake. Bobby! Go and get the doctor!” Sam said. Bobby ran for the doctor, while Sam hurried to the bed, trying to calm his terrified brother, who was trying to yell his name. Sam could see the panic on Dean’s face.
“Calm down. It's all right. You're safe now. You're safe here. I won’t let anything hurt you”
But somehow that didn’t calm Dean. He was terrified and tried to scream even though his voice was barely audible. “Safe? Here? No, no… no. Please! I don’t want to! Please don’t send me back. Nooo! Sam no! I don’t want to! Can’t! Please don’t send me back!”
“It is all right, Dean. You're disoriented from the drugs. You're safe here. You won’t go back to hell. No one's gonna send you back. I promise.”
But that seemed to frighten Dean even more. He started to shake, having some kind of seizure, and he screamed. Sam was terrified. His joy at seeing his brother wake up was now changed to complete fear. Fear for Dean’s life. Fear that he would lose Dean anyway. In just a few seconds Sam saw his life flashing by him. The miserable and painful life he was fated to lead if Dean was taken away from him.
He remembered very clearly how he'd gotten stuck in that time loop. The same day over and over again, always ending the same way, with Dean’s death. He’d watched Dean die over and over again, but he never got used to it. The pain was just as overwhelming every single time. He remembered those six miserable months after Dean died, and the person he became. He couldn’t let this happen.
“Help. We need help in here!” he yelled, while Dean kept shaking and screaming. The doctor came running with Bobby and injected something in Dean’s IV. Seconds later, Dean seemed to relax and fall into a deep sleep.
“He’ll rest now for a while,” the doctor said.
“But he’ll wake up again, right? He’s going to be all right?” Sam asked with panic in his voice as he fought off the tears.
“I need to talk to you. You’d better come with me,” the doctor said. He took Sam to an empty examination room, pulled out a chair, and urged Sam to sit down.
The lives he and Dean had led, they’d figured that it would just be a matter of time until one of them – or maybe both – needed serious medical attention. He had arranged health insurance in their own names, although it had been paid through credit card scams as always.
Dr. Eric Gamble was an experienced doctor in his mid-forties. He had black hair that was rapidly getting thinner, and a friendly face, a face that was now expressing a deep concern for the Winchester brothers.
He’d met all kinds of people in his profession, and he had seen and experienced a lot, but there was something very special about the Winchester brothers, something intriguing. He could see the fear in the younger Winchester’s face and found himself at a loss for words. He sighed and gave it a try.
“Mr. Winchester… about Dean’s injuries… It's a miracle that he’s alive. Those deep slashes should have killed him. The surgery was successful, as you know. He has lost a lot of blood, but he is getting a transfusion right now. It… it’s a miracle that he woke up at all. He’s fighting very hard. But there is still a risk that…”
“A risk that Dean might die…” Sam said gently, feeling the tears in his eyes.
“If we can keep the wounds from getting infected there is a good chance he’ll pull through, but the next 24 hours will be crucial. However, even if he survives, he'll have a hard time… because his legs are… damaged.”
“How damaged?”
“Several nerves have been severed. I’m afraid that his legs might be paralyzed. It's still too early to say if the damage will be permanent.”
Oh God please no, Sam thought.
“There’s another thing that’s worrying me,” Dr. Gamble said. “Have you seen his body?”
Now, there was a different kind of fear on Sam’s face. He knew what the doctor was getting at. How could he explain all the injuries Dean had sustained during the years?
“I mean who is this guy?” the doctor asked. “There are old scars all over his body, not to mention a burn mark and scars from at least two bullet wounds. One of them is quite recent.”
Sam tried to think quickly. He knew every inch of Dean’s body after being together 24/7 for three years. He also remembered very clearly the incidents that lead to the scars the doctor was referring to.
Not to mention his own guilt for shooting Dean in the shoulder when “Meg” possessed him. He remembered how helpless he’d felt while “Meg” was in control of his body, as he watched her hurting Dean, and as she murdered another hunter without being able to react.
That was one of the darkest times of his life. He also remembered how that crazy family had tortured and burned Dean while Sam was sitting locked in a cage, and now, most recently, how FBI Deputy Director Steven Groves, possessed by a demon, had shot Dean in that jail. Sam had had his own share of pain, but it was killing him inside when he thought of how much Dean had suffered.
Still, what was he supposed to say to the doctor? Dean likes kinky sex with a lot of BDSM? No. That wouldn’t be believable.
“He was a prisoner of war in Iraq.” That will do, Sam thought.
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Lawrence, Kansas
It was dark. A young couple stood outside an apartment building, kissing. They were in their twenties and seemed to be very much in love. The girl said: “I had a wonderful time tonight, even though you spilled wine on my best dress.”
The man asked, “Does it matter, when all I wanted this entire evening was to take it off?”
The girl replied, “Hey there, Stanley. All in good time! If you're not careful, you're going to get a speeding ticket.”
“Hey, I’m a guy, you know. And I happen to be crazy about you.”
“Or just crazy,” the girl giggled.
“Are we still on for the weekend? You know. You and me, alone, the woods, my parents’ cabin.”
“Definitely. I can’t wait.”
“I'll pick you up tomorrow evening at 7,” Stanley said.
“Can’t wait. Have a safe walk home.”
“It is just a couple of blocks, Andrea! Don’t worry!”
“Yes, but I miss you already. Good night,” she said.
Stanley kissed her goodnight and started to walk. Andrea watched him with an expression of longing on her face before she went up to her apartment.
When Stanley had walked a block, he heard something in the bushes. He was startled, but thought nothing of it. But then a woman with thick black hair appeared behind him.
He turned around and saw that the woman held a gun, and she was pointing it at him. The gun went off and a tranquilizer dart hit him in the chest. He felt a sharp sting before everything went black.
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Sam was sitting by Dean’s bed in the hospital. He was listening to Dean’s breath and the beeping of a machine. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. It could have been three hours or it could have been the whole night, in fact it probably had been. When he looked out through the window, he could see that the first beams of the morning sun had reached the horizon.
But he turned his attention back into the room, to right now, to the moment, because Dean was his entire world. He was the brother who, a year ago, had made a deal so Sam could live.
But at what price? How was Sam supposed to tell him that he might never walk again? And that he would never again drive his beloved car.
Dean’s eyelids were fluttering. He was about to wake up. Sam took his hand gently as Dean opened his eyes.
“Dean. Hi! It’s all right, I’m here.”
Dean looked at him. He seemed much calmer this time.
“Sammy!” Dean said. His voice was weak, but he managed to smile a little.
“I'm here, and you're safe. You're in the hospital.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Are you in any pain? Should I get the doctor?”
“No! Please stay. I can't feel very much at all, actually.”
“It's the drugs. Oh God, I'm so glad you're alive, that you're awake! I thought I'd lost you!”
“Well,” Dean said. “I thought I'd lost me too.” Then he drifted off again.
Dr. Gamble came in. He urged Sam to step out while he examined Dean, so Sam called Bobby at the motel. When the doctor came out of the room Sam asked, “How is he?”
“Good news. The worst part is over. The wounds are healing. He'll survive.”
“But, what about his legs?”
“No change for now. He won’t be able to move them, just as I expected. Anyway, he's about to wake up. He should be fully awake in a few hours.”
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Stanley Morris was slowly waking up. He found himself in a dark room, lit only with the candlelight from the black candles planted around. His chest was bare, and he was gagged and tied up.
The room was creepy. His first thought was that he was dreaming, the kind of dream one has during a high fever. It doesn’t take him long to realize that he wasn’t alone.
There was a group of people in the room, and both men and women in the group were dressed in strange black robes with golden symbols. They also had strange symbols on their faces. Everybody in the room was turned towards one woman with long black hair. Stanley was hearing her speak.
“Dear brothers and sisters, we’re living through dark times. Our great mother’s enemies have eluded her. Her enemies are our enemies. She is angry. The Winchester brothers are a bigger threat to her, to us, than she realized. Sam Winchester especially. He was supposed to join us. Be one of us. Our new leader. Guiding us to the rebirth of the world. A better world, where we would reign. We never considered his brother Dean a threat, but we obviously underestimated their bond. He led Sam on another path, away from us. Our great mother knew that Dean would be a threat to Sam’s destiny with us, but she had a contract on Dean’s life – a foolproof contract. Dean should have been dead by now, but Mother was unsuccessful. Now she’s angry and weakened. She wants to visit us to give us further instructions. But for that she needs a sacrifice. Pray with me, brothers and sisters.”
The whole group was moving closer to Stanley, and he could hear his heart pounding with fear. The group began to mumble strange words, and Stanley thought that maybe they were chanting in Latin. They passed a bowl around the circle, and everybody drank from it.
Then the dark haired woman took a large knife, and Stanley knew he was about to die. All he could think about was how lucky he had been finding someone like Andrea. He'd been looking forward to their weekend in the country, and to making love with her for the first time.
Now his life was about to end. He couldn’t believe that his life would end this way. The dark haired woman pointed the knife to a girl with red hair.
“Adriana. It’s your turn.”
The girl took the knife, and moved closer to Stanley. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, and the gag choked his screams. Why didn’t she just kill him?
She carved something in his chest, and it hurt so much he wished she would finish him off. His wish was granted a moment later when the girl cut his throat.
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Dean was fully awake. Sam had dozed off in a chair in Dean’s room. He yawned, and noticed that Dean was awake. Sam smiled at his brother.
“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked.
“Fine.”
“Just fine? Is that all you have to say?”
“I’m just tired,” Dean said. “But what about you? Are you all right? Sam, what happened in that house? I don’t remember much. I remember the hellhound. I remember the pain, the blood, and then everything went black. Tell me Sam. Why am I alive? Why am I here in this hospital bed? How did you survive Lilith?”
“Don’t worry, Dean. I’m all right. And you will be too. I thought that you died in there. I expected that Lilith would kill me, but something happened. She looked at me with fear. I tried to kill her with Ruby’s knife, and then she let go of Ruby’s body and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, you know.”
“So Lilith’s still out there?”
“Somewhere. But don’t worry. We’ve still got Ruby’s knife, and the hex bags will disorient them. Bobby and me, we’ll protect you as long as you are in here. You’ll be safe.”
“Safe? Dean said. “There is no safety. You should know that by now. And especially not in here. This is a hospital, for crying out loud. People are dying in hospitals.”
“What?” Sam looked confused.
“Hospitals are the most dangerous places there are. More people die in hospitals than anywhere else.”
“Well of course they do, obviously. Dean! Try to relax, dude! You just woke up. You are still weak, and by trying to be logical you are just confusing things. God knows, you are confusing me.”
“You know how much I hate hospitals. I’ve been laid up too many times. I remember dying in a hospital twice before now.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be alright,” Sam assured him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said quietly.
Sam looked shocked. “Doesn’t matter? How can you say that? The only thing that matters is that you are alive.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah!” Sam got tears in his eyes. Dean had only just awakened, and just then Sam was overjoyed to see his brother awake, talking to him.
Recently Sam had survived Lilith’s attempt to kill them both. He remembered how he’d cried over Dean’s dead body. He’d thought Dean was forever gone. Lying dead on the floor, bleeding. He'd hugged his brother. Never wanted to let go.
He'd thought that the grief might kill him too. He just wanted to die. Then he'd felt a pulse - a very, very weak one. He'd yelled for Bobby and started CPR, determined never to stop as long as he was alive. It had been Bobby that called the ambulance.
The paramedics did their job. Dean had survived the transport to the hospital in Evansville. Now, finally, he was awake, and he seemed lucid.
The Dean Sam knew couldn’t wait to get out in the battle again, but something was different now. Dean didn’t seem to appreciate that he was alive. Where was the spark that had always burned?
“Tell me something Sam. Why am I alive? How could I survive that hellhound?”
“I don’t know, Dean. I honestly don’t know”.
“By the way,” Dean said. “What did you tell them caused my injuries?”
“A big stray dog.”
“Come on, Sam! Couldn’t you be a little more creative than that?”
“Sorry, but you were about to die. I had to think quickly.”
“A stray dog huh? What did you say to the police about the family in the house? We need to get our stories straight.”
“I said that we'd heard screaming, and that we found this crazy dog. I managed to get away from it, but you didn’t. The mother and the daughter seemed to be so traumatized that they haven’t been able to give any statements to the police. The father didn’t say much. I guess he was afraid that they would believe that he was crazy.”
“I guess we have come up with some crazy stories about our injuries in the past.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Do you remember the Daevas that slashed our faces pretty bad? We went to the emergency room then, too. What was that story we came up with?”
“Bear attack!” Dean said, smirking. “I remember it well. The wounds healed pretty quickly, though. All we needed was a few stitches.”
Dr. Gamble entered the room. “I’m glad to see that you're awake. You’ve had a surgery and we managed to stop the internal bleeding. We've tended to your wounds, and they seem to be healing. You needed a lot of stitches. Those slashes on your chest were pretty deep. How are you feeling?”
“As a matter of fact I can't feel very much at all.”
“You've been given painkillers, but if the pain should increase then let us know. There’s one more thing though.”
“It’s about my legs, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I was expecting that you wouldn’t be able to move your legs. Some nerves were severed during that animal attack. I hate to tell you this, but you might never walk again.”
Sam saw the look on Dean’s face. Dean was trying to keep the façade as always, not showing any weakness. Sam knew how devastated he must be feeling, but all he said was, “Thanks, doctor.”
“Just push the button to alert the nurses if you need anything.”
Dr. Gamble left the room. Sam looked at his brother with deep compassion.
“I'm so sorry, Dean. But I'll take care of you; I promise.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Sam asked.
“I shouldn’t be here. I should have died. Then I guess both of us would be better off.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because of this. Lying up here in this hospital. Never be able to walk again. Never be any good. Not useful for anything. Sitting trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, I will never be able to drive again, and most important of all, I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
“You’re not.”
“Maybe not today, but someday I will be. I don’t know what happened, why I’m alive, but I would be better off dead.”
“Dean, please don’t say that. You're my brother. I thought I'd lost you forever until I felt a weak pulse. I did CPR until the paramedics arrived. I couldn’t let you die.”
“Well, you should have. Nothing good will ever come out of this. I'm going to be stuck in this damaged body forever. I wish I was dead.”
“Dean! You were going to hell. I saved you from hell and eternal suffering. All that matters is that you’re alive, and we’ll take one step ahead, one day at a time.”
“There won’t be any, *one step ahead, one day at a time* with these legs. I am suffering here as well, so I might just as well be in hell. I don’t think there's much difference. Leave me now. I'm tired. I need to sleep.”
Later that afternoon Bobby came to visit Dean. The nurses hadn’t let him in earlier because he wasn't immediate family. Sam thought that was stupid. Bobby had been like a father to him and Dean since John had passed away. In fact he'd been more of a father than John ever was. At least to Sam.
Dean had seemed a little happier when Bobby was there, and Sam was able to get some rest when he knew Bobby was there, protecting Dean.
Later a young nurse came into Dean’s room to check his vital signs. She was a pretty girl with dark hair to her shoulders and a smiling face. She had a nametag that said she was called Erica Adler. Bobby stepped out to Sam in the corridor.
“Bobby, we've got to find a way to protect Dean. He's lying in that bed unable to walk. He's completely unprotected. Lilith and her demons are still out there, and that means Dean's an easy target for their next attack.”
“Sam. This is a hospital. I'm not sure what we can do. We can't draw a devil’s trap on Dean’s sheets.”
“At least we can salt the doorway and the windows,” Sam said.
“They'd never allow it. What we can do is keep Ruby’s knife away from hospital security. We can take turns guarding Dean. They won’t allow me in here unless it's visiting hours, but I can stay here then, and you can get some rest. The rest of the time you'll have to stay in his room.”
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Stanley Morris's dead body lay on the floor. The girl who had cut his throat stood by the black altar, holding a bowl that contained Stanley’s blood in her right hand.
She touched the blood with her left hand and placed the bowl on the altar. The whole group began chanting. Adriana, who had remained standing by the altar, seemed more and more nervous. The wind started to blow. The flames from the black candles went out, and the room was filled with black smoke.
Adriana was hyperventilating as the black smoke disappeared into her mouth. She screamed, and then turned around to face the group. Her eyes had turned white.
Their leader, the dark haired woman, stepped forward.
“Dear mother Lilith. We are honored by your presence.”
“Our greatest enemies are the Winchester brothers. They should both be dead by now,” Lilith said.
“What about Sam Winchester? I thought he could be turned? Become one of us?” asked the dark haired woman.
“It's too late for that. He's a great danger to us, but he has a weak spot. His brother Dean. Dean is wounded. They are both vulnerable right now, and if we take out Dean, it’ll be much easier to get to Sam. They're unprotected, and now is the time to attack.”
“Will you leave it to us? We have access to places that demons don’t,” the dark haired woman asked.
“I don’t want to expose any of you yet. I have someone in mind that will be perfect for the job.”
Then Adriana screamed and vomited the black smoke. When Lilith was gone Adriana fell to the floor, gasping for air. Then she rose to her feet, a big smile spreading on her face.
“That was awesome! Having mother superior as a guest in my body like that. I've never felt so close to her, so dedicated. We're working with amazing powers. The world will be ours. I think perhaps that wasn’t really clear to me before.”
The dark haired woman spoke. “I am so proud of you, dear sister. Consider this experience a rebirth and take this ring as christening gift.”
The dark haired woman took Adriana’s hand and placed a golden ring on her finger.
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Bobby went back to the motel, leaving Sam sitting in a chair in Dean’s room while his brother slept. The pretty nurse from before came in to change his IV bag.
“I'll be really fast. Will you stay here with Dean tonight as well?” the nurse asked.
“Yes. I’m his brother, Sam.”
“You seem to care a lot about him. He's very lucky to have you. I'm Nurse Adler, by the way, but you can call me Erica. You know, the hospital is very capable of taking care of him. You don’t have to stay with him every minute.”
“I need to protect him.”
“Protect him from what?”
“Um….I just do. He seems so depressed. I don’t know what to do.”
Nurse Adler sat down beside Sam. “Look. I know how you must feel. I understand your concern. You feel that he is throwing up walls, isolating himself from you, and you can’t reach him.”
“How did you know?”
She took Sam’s hand in hers and touched him gently. “I have seen this before. Depression is very common among people who've been close to death. Did he have a near death experience?”
“He refuses to talk about it.”
“I am sure he'll open up to you eventually. Sorry, but duty calls. Just let me know if the two of you need anything. If you're going to stay in his room tonight, you might like an extra bed so you can sleep too”.
“That would be awesome.”
“I'll take care of it. Try not to worry.”
Later that evening, Sam went out to get a bag of salt. He'd salted the windows and the doorway to Dean's room very thoroughly by the time Nurse Adler came in with a blanket for Sam’s bed.
“What is this?”
“Um…it's salt actually.”
“Why?”
“Well you know. Between you and me, Dean is a bit superstitious. He thinks that it brings him good luck.” Sam tried his famous puppy dog look and a smile, but Nurse Adler looked at him like he was crazy.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Sam tried to reassure her.
“Your brother must be a bit…eccentric.”
“Exactly. That's exactly what I always used to say. You should see his other habits. Once he…” Sam laughed nervously, but Nurse Adler didn’t seem amused. She was still looking at him as if he – or maybe Dean – was crazy. “Never mind,” Sam said.
“Look. This is a hospital room. It's supposed to be a sterile environment. A cleaner will take care of this.”
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Sam had slept all night in the extra bed in Dean’s room, with Ruby’s knife under the pillow. Dean was still asleep as Sam got dressed and went out to get a cup of coffee and some breakfast.
His brother didn't wake up until Nurse Adler entered the room.
“How are you feeling?”
“A bit sore,” Dean said with a sleepy voice. “I can feel those slashes.”
“The painkillers have worn off, but your wounds are healing just fine. You don’t need such strong stuff anymore. Here! Take this pill; it will help with the pain.”
“Thanks,” Dean said, swallowing the pill.
“You should be strong enough to manage some food now. I'll come back with some breakfast for you.”
“Yeah I think I could eat something.” Dean was already in a better mood, and the thought of food had a lot to do with that.
“I'm going to take out your IV. Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.”
Dean threw a look across the room and noticed the other empty bed. “Where did Sam go?”
“Having breakfast, I think. He slept here all last night. He cares about you so much; I think he’s really something special.”
Dean could see how she shone when she mentioned Sam. She obviously had a crush on his brother.
“There! The IV is out,” Nurse Adler said and started to check Dean’s blood pressure. “I'm almost finished with you for now. I'm just going to take your temperature.” Dean opened his mouth. “Actually,” Nurse Adler said. “I'm supposed to put the thermometer in…”
“God, yes!” Dean said with great enthusiasm.
“It's not the same as sex, you know!” Nurse Adler giggled.
“Let me be the judge of that,” Dean said with a flirtatious smile, but he gasped a moment later when she inserted the thermometer.
“Your brother Sam.” Nurse Adler said. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“No,” Dean said. “We've been traveling a lot.”
“It's amazing to see the way he cares about you.”
“Yeah. He can be such a dork sometimes”
She didn’t seem to hear him. She seemed to be in another world, where no one but Sam existed. “And that amazing smile of his. Those eyes, his strong hands, and that cute little butt.”
“Would you please not talk about my brother’s butt, while I've got a thermometer stuck in my ass?”
“Oh sorry!” Nurse Adler said. She seemed to have woken up from her Sam Winchester induced daydream.
The thermometer caused Dean’s sphincter to contract over and over, and the bulb pressed against his prostate. It felt good. Too good actually. He was getting hard, although the main reason for his current state of arousal was because of something else.
“You know,” Dean said. “I actually had a dream once, where I was in a relationship with a nurse named Carmen. Actually it was more than a dream.”
“What?”
“Kind of hard to explain. Never mind.”
Dean tried to hide his erection when Nurse Adler removed the thermometer.
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Later, when Sam returned to Dean’s room, his brother had just finished breakfast.
“What took you so long?” Dean asked without looking at Sam.
“I went back to the motel to get some clean clothes and had a shower. I thought that Erica was taking care of you in the meantime.”
“Erica?” Dean looked up. “You mean Nurse Adler? So it is *Erica* now huh?”
“What are you saying?” Sam looked surprised. “She seems to be a sweet person, very trustworthy and very capable of taking care of you. That’s all.”
“Sweet, huh? You sweet on her or something?”
“Of course not,” Sam said.
“Well. You should be. Like you said, she’s a sweet girl. You should be with a girl like that. You should settle down with a girl just like that. Lead a normal life. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Wasn’t that why you left Dad and me in the first place? The hunting is over. The war is over - at least as far as I am concerned, thanks to these damn legs. Now you have your big chance. You can become a lawyer. Have 2.5 children. A lovely wife named *Erica,* and a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. It's clear that she wants you. Go! Leave me behind! Lead a normal life! Forget that you ever knew me! There are others that can take care of me for the rest of my miserable crippled life. Go! What are you waiting for? She's an attractive girl, right? Isn’t she the girl you always dreamed about?”
“That’s not true,” Sam said, looking very upset.
“Which part isn't true? It was a quite long speech I made just now.”
“For the first. Yes. Erica is a very attractive girl. Yes. I always wanted a normal life. But normal isn't working for me anymore. Too many things have happened. I gave it my best shot when I left you and Dad and settled down with Jess, but it was never meant to be.”
“It's all my fault, dragging you all over the country looking for Dad. If it wasn’t for me, you'd still have that normal life.”
“Dean, try to get it through that thick skull of yours. It was NOT your fault. The only one who can be blamed for destroying that life and killing Jess was the yellow-eyed demon. What kept me sane all these months after that was you. I don’t know what I'd have done without you. You were my salvation. You still are. The only thing that matters right now is you. I will never desert you. And for the record, I'm not *sweet* on Erica, and I'm not attracted to her.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not.”
“Whatever, dude,” Dean said.
“By the way, the doctor said that you're doing alright. You can be released soon.”
“Whoopee!” Dean said with complete lack of enthusiasm. “I'm so looking forward to my new life in a wheelchair.”
Sam knew that there was no use answering that remark. It would only start a conversation that would lead around in circles. Sam folded out the newspaper he'd bought on his way from the motel.
“I brought a newspaper. Maybe it will help you think of something else.”
Dean answered that sentence with a glare. Sam knew what he was thinking. He began to go through the paper, desperately trying to find an article that would make Dean to think of something else. It wasn't long before he found one.
“I don’t believe it,” Sam said, starting to read aloud to Dean.
“The mutilated body of 24-year-old Stanley Morris has been found in an alley. Morris had been missing for the last few days, and his body had strange markings on it. The police suspect suicide, and see no similarity to other suspected murders elsewhere. The police have now closed the case, according to Andrea Boyer, the dead man's girlfriend.”
Sam looked at Dean who didn’t show any change of expression.
Sam continued, “She says here that the markings on Stanley’s body indicate some kind of ritual murder. You know, it's ludicrous to believe that this was suicide. Don’t you think that this is a case for us?”
“Whatever,” Dean said.
“You haven’t heard the worst of it yet. The dead body of Stanley Morris was found in Lawrence. This is huge. It has to be. What's the betting that Lilith and her demons are involved? I can feel it in my bones. We should try to find out more. What do you say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say that you are dying with curiosity. That you want this case and want to get out in the game again.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Sam, I can’t move my legs. What good am I to anyone?”
"Dude, legs or no legs, you can still be useful, you and all your expertise. You could do research, gather information for hunters all over the world.”
“That's your dream, college boy. That's your idea of being useful. Not mine.”
“I need you, Dean.”
“I wish I could believe that. I really do. Go away now. I am tired”.
This was not the way Sam had expected it to go. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter what he said. He'd heard this talk before, the few times Dean actually opened up, and one thing that he had never understood was where Dean got his low self-esteem from. Sam grabbed the newspaper and lay down on the bed opposite Dean’s. Maybe his brother didn’t want to talk to him, but he would sure as hell not let Dean out of his sight.
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3.05 AM
Dean woke up in terrible pain. It felt as if he had multiple deep cuts on his chest. He was in so much pain that his voice shocked him. “Saaam,” he tried to scream. His voice was faint, but at least it was enough to wake Sam who had almost slept with one eye open. When Sam heard Dean’s painful groans he was immediately wide awake. He was beside Dean’s bed in a second.
“Sammy. It hurts so badly. Something is wrong. Please…” Sam pulled back Dean’s covers and was startled when he saw all the blood. He could see the blood pumping out of Dean’s chest. “Oh, my God, the wounds have reopened. “Stay still. I’ll get some help.”
A moment later, nurses and doctors came running, and rolled away Dean’s bed, leaving Sam behind.
Sam called Bobby, and he rushed back to the hospital. Sam was distraught because of what he had seen, and Bobby tried to comfort him.
An hour later Sam was very relieved when they brought Dean back. The bed was rolled back into his room.
“Dean's stitches reopened, but we don’t know how that happened,” the on-call doctor informed Sam and Bobby. “I've never seen anything quite like it. He isn't bleeding anymore, and his life is out of danger. He’s having another blood transfusion as we speak, and he's resting comfortably now.”
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Six hours later.
Sam watched Dean sleep. His brother looked very pale. Sam had tears in his eyes as Bobby entered the room, two mugs of coffee in his hands. Putting them down on a table, he laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“Sam. He’ll be all right. You heard the doctor.”
“That’s what they said the last time.” Sam said, drying his eyes.
“I brought you some coffee,” Bobby said, passing the mug to Sam.
Sam took a couple of sips. Somehow the coffee made him feel better.
“Listen, Sam,” Bobby said. “I don’t need to tell you how strange it is that Dean survived that hellhound. I've never heard of anything like it. To be honest, I was afraid that this would happen.”
“How? Why?” Sam looked him straight in the eyes. “Are you saying that Dean might die?”
“What I am saying is…” Bobby said. “…that I've done some research.”
“What kind of research?” Sam asked. He was terrified of what Bobby would say.
“Look, Sam! We don’t know exactly what Dean went through when he died. There's a lot of lore about what happens after death. Most of it is very contradictory. The only one who knows exactly what happened is Dean. We can't even begin to understand what he went through, what hell was like. Can you imagine if he actually went to hell, the way he must have suffered?”
“I've thought about that,” Sam said. “He doesn’t seem to care that he's alive. You'd think he'd be happy that he came back, that he managed to escape hell.”
“Maybe the reason he's so depressed is, because he knows that he's living on borrowed time. Death is unavoidable. We're all gonna die. So is Dean. Even if he got out of hell this time, it's just a matter of time before he is sent back. The thought of that would make anyone give up the will to live.”
“What does that have to do with Dean's wound reopening?”
“Don’t you see?” Bobby said. “The mind controls the body. That's something that western medicine has always denied. A supernatural being caused his injuries. His very strong will to survive got his injuries to heal quicker. I guess that Dean's much more depressed than we realized. He doesn’t want to live anymore. He's given up. He doesn’t care if he’s dead or alive. I think that must have caused his wound to reopen. I guess that this has a lot to do with what he saw down there. Sam, you're the only one that can reach him. You must force him to talk about what he went through. He has to let go of this burden. He needs to find something to live for. He must, or else he will die. I've seen the strong bond between the two of you, and I think you have to get him to talk.”
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Later that evening.
Dean had woken up. The IV from the blood transfusion had been removed. He'd gotten his strength back and was feeling much better. When Sam entered the room Dean had just finished eating a Jell-O.
Sam just looked at him. Dean looked up and was surprised at what he saw. Sam didn’t look fine. He looked like he was having a breakdown. Sam was shaking. He looked like his legs would surrender in any second.
“Sammy. What’s wrong?”
Sam sat down by Dean’s bed with tears in his eyes.
“Dean. This has to stop. I don’t know what you went through when you died, but you have to tell me. You can’t do this anymore, dude. Please don’t shut me out. I've seen you do this to yourself far too many times. If you keep hiding everything you feel inside, you're going to explode. I've seen it before, remember? In this case it's going to kill you, but what you don’t realize is that you're going to kill me as well. This last 24 hours I've been wrestling with my worst fears. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't even go to the can! Please. I am begging you. If you don’t want to live for yourself, then please do it for me. I can only begin to imagine what you saw down there in hell. I do understand that you must be wrecked witnessing that.”
“Sam, you don’t understand.”
“Make me understand. How horrible was it? Whatever they did to you down in the pit you can tell me. Talk to me. Please!”
“Sammy… I… didn’t go to hell.” Dean got tears in his eyes. He didn’t know where to start.
After a minute, he slowly began talking. “That night in the house… I remember how I saw my dead body lying on the floor. I was hovering above it… Then I saw a bright light. The light was so overwhelming, so beautiful and seductive that I… couldn’t resist following it.
It was terrible seeing you so devastated. You were crying yours eyes out. I just wanted to hug you and tell you that it was all right, but the light was so beautiful, I just had to follow it.
I knew that I was dead, but this was not what I expected hell would be like. How could this be hell? Then it occurred to me that maybe the path I followed actually didn’t lead to hell. It seemed way too beautiful. Maybe hell didn’t exist after all.
The more I walked, the happier I felt. I went through a tunnel towards the light, and I heard the most beautiful music ever. I had never felt so happy. Then I was at the end of the tunnel, surrounded by light. Someone was standing there in the light waiting, for me. It was Mom!”
Sam started to sob, tears welling from his eyes.
“You saw… Mom?”
“She smiled at me. I wanted to cry with happiness, but it was impossible because I didn’t have a body. I wanted to stay there forever in that happy place with Mom, but then something was pulling me back.
The light disappeared. I wanted to scream. Somehow, I knew what was happening. With amazing speed I snapped back to the room in that house. I saw you doing CPR. I saw the paramedics arrive.
Then I was back in my body, but I couldn’t control it. I dreamt that I was a prisoner trapped in a large net, because that was what it felt like. I realized that being trapped in this damaged meat suit was *hell.* I knew that the only hell that exists is the pain and suffering on earth.
Then I woke up, unable to move. I was restrained by all these tubes, and I just wanted to die. I just wanted to go back to that wonderful place. I just wanted to go to Mom. I didn’t want to come back to this wounded body. That was why, I guess, I panicked when I woke up. I didn’t want to come back here. That’s what I was trying to tell you, Sam.”
Sam hugged him. There was no need for any more words. Sam understood now why Dean had acted the way he had. He still felt confused though. He didn’t know exactly how he could help Dean after what he'd just been told, although at least he'd made a start.
Dean cried too, but somehow he knew that Sam was right. A great burden had been lifted.
“I wanted to stay, Sammy. I wanted to stay with Mom.”
“I know Dean. I know.” Sam let go of Dean and tried to get a grip over himself.
“What are you saying?” Sam asked, after a moment. “That there's no hell? That's good news, but I don't understand how that can be? After everything we've heard, and everything we were led to believe? We even saw that devils' gate in that cemetery in Wyoming.”
“I don’t know, Sam! I really don’t know. But one thing’s for sure. For some reason, that hellhound was unable to kill me, and I’m going to find out why, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Sam told Bobby the good news about Dean when he came to visit, later that evening. Bobby had been asked about a case involving a poltergeist in Illinois, but he felt reluctant to go. He didn’t want to leave Sam and Dean behind, but they urged him to go. Dean was going to be released soon, and Sam figured that they could take care of themselves now.
Bobby said a heartfelt goodbye to the two boys who had become almost like his sons. Dean was in a very good mood, which made it easier for Bobby to leave. Later that evening, Sam could see a remarkable difference in Dean. They talked, laughed and played cards. Dean even asked Sam to smuggle in a large pizza and some cold beer.
Erica Adler peeked through the small window in the door to Dean’s room. She could see them laughing as they ate slices of pizza, and as she watched, her eyes shone demonic black.