Dean climbed to the brink of consciousness but then his brain decided there was too much pain and he fell back down several levels, below the threshold of awareness. The man watching Dean saw him move slightly and he smiled. He’d been waiting patiently for half an hour but he was eager to start again and he reached for the bucket of ice-cold water…
Dean felt light-headed and weak and the bright light in the ceiling hurt his eyes. He was still only partly awake and couldn’t remember what he was doing here. Something cold was dripping from his face, his hair and his upper body - it ran down his bare chest and back and onto his legs, then fell softly to the floor. He couldn’t move his arms so he licked his cracked lips to find out what it was... It was water, mixed with a sharp, metallic taste, which he also tasted in a purer, sharper form in his mouth - it was blood! He felt sharp pain and an obstruction deep in his throat and tried to spit to clear it, but the pain rose to an excruciating level as his blood splashed out onto the floor. As it subsided slightly, he became aware of the deep, insistent pain all over his body, overlaid with sharper notes here and there. Someone had done a number on him for sure! He realized he was staring at the floor and had been for some time now, unseeing. It was difficult to make out colors properly in the artificial light but he thought there were large splashes of red all around and small, red rivulets snaking away from the chair where he was sitting. While he watched, more red liquid and water dripped from him. He realized dully it was his own blood falling…
Suddenly he felt the sharp pain of his hair being pulled by the roots as his head was lifted up. He stared into the eyes of someone he knew but they were strange eyes nonetheless because they were crimson…
‘Hello, Dean, and welcome back - I’ve been waiting for you!’ said Sam, who was stroking a small but wickedly sharp blade as if it were a favorite possession. It was crusted in red, with his blood, Dean thought. Of course it wasn’t really his brother, Sammy; a demon had possessed him…
Dean tried to speak, but no sound came out. He tried to clear his throat again and it felt like broken glass was grinding into his flesh as he coughed up blood, but he felt able to talk a little, finally. ‘You’ve had your fun, why don’t you finish this now?’ he whispered, scratchily. ‘I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know.’
‘But that’s not the point at all, Dean! Me and my partner,’ and he pointed at himself, ‘we’re here to have some fun with Hunters, and I have to say, you and your brother are the most fun we’ve had in ages!’
‘You’re kidding me!’ said Dean, incredulously. ‘There are two of you in there?’ he managed to say before he broke down into a fit of coughing. He remembered that sonofabitch had almost choked the life out of him three times already and last time he must have stopped after Dean was unconscious because the last thing he could remember was looking into those glowing red eyes in his brother’s face as his vision dimmed…
‘Yes, we wanted to make sure your brother couldn’t take control back, especially with what we’ve done to you, and what we’re still planning to do!’
Dean looked down at himself. He was naked except for his shorts and there was hardly any of his skin he could see that that wasn’t covered in deep, dark bruises or cuts. They – the demons – not Sammy, had worked him over professionally several times now, kicking and punching him until he lost consciousness. He thought he had some broken ribs and it felt like his left ankle and right shin were busted, plus his right shoulder was dislocated, and he thought maybe he was bleeding internally from the kicks he’d taken to his kidneys when the demons’ excitement got the better of them. Each time after working him over until he lost consciousness they’d woken him up and started in on him with the knife… Some cuts were large, fresh gashes, where blood welled up slowly but continuously; others were smaller but deeper, designed to inflict maximum pain and to ensure he’d bleed a lot, but not enough to bleed out, not for a while anyways, although he reckoned he must have lost several pints of blood already… His back had suffered the same punishment. He didn’t remember them untying him and turning him around on the chair so they must have done it each time while he was unconscious – not that he could have done anything in his condition to stop them – and repeated what they’d done to his front, but it was worse feeling the demons were behind him; not being able to see what was going on; not to be able to anticipate the blows and at least be able to brace himself against the sudden explosions of pain…
Dean’s head drooped with exhaustion and pain; he could feel himself wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness again…
‘Don’t go asleep, Dean!’ the demon shouted in his ear as he pulled Dean up by his hair again. ‘I haven’t finished talking to you yet and we’ve haven’t had any fun with you for a while! Don’t you want to know why we’re having such a good time?’ he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.
‘Huh?’ said Dean. The demon stared into his eyes to see if Dean was faking it and decided he wasn’t. He pushed Dean’s head down in disgust and walked out. There’d be time later, when Dean had recovered enough for the fun to start again….
Dean woke up much later; his head was still hanging down and he could see sunlight creeping across the floor. He thought it must be just after dawn… He’d stopped bleeding for now and the blood on the floor had dried and turned a darker brown. His face was suffused with blood and he felt as if it was burning. He managed to lift his head up and he looked across at Sam, sitting opposite him on a desk. The demon looked nonchalant but he couldn’t disguise the gleam of anticipation in his red eyes as he saw Dean awake and reasonably alert – it was no fun torturing someone as out of it as Dean had been earlier.
Hi, Dean, glad to see you’re up and about, well you would be if you weren’t trussed up like a turkey!’ he said, jovially. ‘Shall we continue our conversation?’
Dean just glared. ‘I’m goin’ to send you and your buddy back to Hell, or better still, I’m goin’ to kill you both!’
The demon flinched as he saw Dean’s eyes harden and stare at him implacably but then he shook off the shiver he was about to make and reminded himself that Dean was tied up, weak, and he was no threat, not now…
I was trying to tell you before why you and your little brother are so much fun,’ he said. ‘Can’t you guess?’
‘Oh, God, not the monologing again!’ Dean did the best impression of a groan he could with his broken voice.
‘Oh, you’ll like this, Dean’, he said, his voice unruffled, sure he was going to grab Dean’s attention shortly. ‘It’s not just you we’re torturing, it’s Sammy too!’
‘What?’ Dean exclaimed. ‘What are you talkin’ about?
‘Well, we’ve let Sam be a spectator to all the fun we’ve had with you, and he’s been most entertaining! I’d say his mental torture has been almost as bad as your physical pain’s been for you! Look, we’ll let you see him for a little while.’
Sam’s eyes closed, then opened again, and this time Dean could see it really was Sammy. ‘Heya Sammy,’ he said, trying out a lopsided smile, which was all he could manage at the moment. Sam shook his head and Dean could see the grief and the torment in his eyes; he was close to going crazy. ‘Dean, I’m so, so sorry, what I’ve done to you, what I’ve let them do to you…’
‘It’s not your fault, Sammy, don’t think like that – it’s all them,’ he whispered, fiercely. Tears of anguish fell from Sam’s eyes and Dean could see his words were having no effect as Sam looked at all Dean’s injuries. ‘Listen to me, Sammy’, he said urgently, but then Sam’s eyes closed and when they opened the demon was back in full control.
‘It’s no good, Dean. Sam knows it’s all his fault! He couldn’t stop us getting into him and he couldn’t stop us hurting you – he can’t do much of anything! Have you ever wondered why we’ve possessed Sam twice now, and not you? Well, it’s easier with him; it’s easier to get into him because of all that anger buried down deep, all that obsession, and we’ve made sure he knows it! We’ll carry on hurting you but we’ll take it nice and slow, draw it out as long as we can, and he’ll be with us all the way… By the end, Sam will be crazy, that’s a promise!’
Dean knew demons lied all the time, except when the truth hurt more, but he’d seen Sam’s eyes and knew that he was speaking the truth. Sammy couldn’t go on much longer like this, and there was no way out. Bobby didn’t know where they were – Hell, no-one did! There was only one thing he could do now for Sam…
The demon started in on Dean again, using the knife. It was excruciating – he knew just where all the most sensitive places were – and Dean tried to bite back the screams for Sammy’s sake, but he couldn’t escape from moaning and grunting as the pain soared to new heights. He could feel the demon slicing open his belly and the warm surge of blood on his shorts. He knew it was going to happen soon, the demon would finish with the knife and start choking him again, and he needed to be ready… The demon put the knife down, flexed his fingers, and smiled at Dean. Dean half-smiled back, mockingly, which infuriated him – even after all this, he knew he hadn’t broken Dean’s spirit, which was the other prize he was looking for – but there was still time! He reached over and placed his hands around Dean’s neck and for a moment Dean looked into Sam’s crimson eyes and said softly, ‘It’s OK, Bro, it’s not your fault; don’t blame yourself for this, please!’ Dean thought he saw a flicker in Sam’s eyes and hoped he’d heard him, but then he closed his own eyes, he didn’t want them to give him away. He exhaled quietly as the demon started squeezing his throat so there was no air in his lungs, and he tried not to struggle and betray that fact to him. Too late the demon realized that something was wrong – Dean wasn’t struggling enough – but his partner wasn’t willing to forego his entertainment and it took time for them both to let go…
Dean hadn’t thought it would be that easy. He supposed he must have been closer to death than he realized and it was only him fighting on that had kept him alive, but now he’d decided to let go it wasn’t that hard, and he had to let go, for Sammy’s sake… Dean’s head fell back when the demon released his throat; there was no reaction from him. The demon slapped Dean’s face hard, leaving bloody handprints on his cheeks, but nothing happened. He lifted Dean’s eyelids but his eyes were fixed and held no recognition of anything; he felt Dean’s neck but there was no pulse there either…
‘Damn him to Hell!’ yelled the demon to the room in general. He realized now he’d been foolish to taunt Dean about Sam, knowing what he thought about his little brother; he’d do anything to save him from pain, but his sacrifice was all in vain… The demon called Bobby and said, ‘Hey Bobby, it’s Sam. We need your help – Dean’s hurt bad and it’s my fault! Can you come and pick us up? We’re in North Dakota I think, I don’t know exactly where but I’ve turned on the GPS on my phone so you can find us.’ He smiled as he ended the call…
The demons were conversing together using Sam’s voice. Anyone hearing them speak would have been chilled and believed Sam was schizophrenic as he spoke in two different voices, but the other demon was annoyed about Dean slipping away from them and wanted to be heard out loud.
‘It’s your fault he died so quickly; you shouldn’t have told him about Sam being awake – we could have had lots more fun! Let’s take our trophy and get away from here now!’ said demon #2.
‘No, no trophies, I’m in charge of this one,’ said demon #1, the one who spoke to Dean. ‘We don’t need any, and besides, I kinda liked it that he wasn’t a whiner like some of them; he took it on the chin and I respect that!’
‘So, we’re sticking around for this Bobby then,’ said demon #2, sulkily. ‘Isn’t this enough for now – why risk it?’
‘Because we haven’t pushed Sam over the edge yet, thanks to Dean leaving unexpectedly, so killing Bobby might be just the thing to do that now – besides, I haven’t had enough fun yet either!’
The demons made Sam untie Dean and carry him outside. Sam was crying inside as he looked down at his brother’s broken and mutilated body. He couldn’t stop the demons making him hurt Dean but it was still his hands which had punched his brother and carved his flesh, his feet which had kicked him so hard; his ears which had had to hear Dean grunting and moaning as he tried to hold back from screaming out loud and his eyes which had to look at everything he’d done to Dean…
Sam placed Dean none too gently on top of the Impala’s roof, face up, with his head pointing towards the front of the car. Then he handcuffed his own hands to one of the doors and sat down to wait for Bobby, a half-smile on his face…
Bobby arrived in a beat-up old truck a couple of hours later. The sun was still not far above the horizon but already clouds were scudding in from the east. It was quite cool and he thought rain might arrive later on… The demons heard the approach of the truck as it entered the track off the highway nearby and prepared themselves for the next part of their game…
Bobby pulled up a few yards from the Impala and got out. His eyes went straight to the almost naked body on top, ignoring Sam, who looked as if he was just unconscious – time for him in a few minutes. He half-ran over and looked at Dean, spread-eagled like a piece of meat on top. His face contorted with sorrow as he put an arm around Dean’s shoulders and lifted him up. Dean was stone-cold and Bobby knew he’d gone; just like that he knew he’d lost his Boy, and his tears flowed. He lifted Dean gently off the roof and laid him on the ground, and then he saw for the first time the full extent of the injuries all over Dean’s body. Barely anywhere, except his face, had escaped without a brutal beating or cutting of some kind. He turned him over on his side and saw his back and legs were just the same. His face hardened as he went back to the truck and brought out a couple of blankets. He laid one on the ground and placed Dean carefully on it; the other he used to cover his broken body. He sat down next to Dean and held him for a time, cradling his head in his arms.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you, Boy; I’m sorry I came too late to save you! I’ve been lookin’ for you for a couple of days now but you just up and vanished and I had no clue where to start, but then I remembered the GPS on your cell and I was already on my way here when Sam called…It’s not right you goin’ before me, you shouldn’t ‘ve done that, Dean… Why didn’t you hang on for me?’ Bobby’s voice cracked and petered out as the full force of his loss hit him. He angrily dashed away the tears on his face with his free hand and then placed it on Dean’s head. ‘I’ll find who did this, Son, and I’ll make them pay… I won’t be far behind you neither … Wait for me on the other side!’
Sam’s eye cracked open as Bobby started talking. This was too delicious, he thought, better than any TV melodrama! After a while he saw Bobby lay Dean down gently and pull the blanket up to his chin. He hurriedly closed his eye and relaxed as he saw Bobby start to turn around towards him…
Bobby walked over to Sam, whom he saw was handcuffed by both hands to the near-side rear door. The demons could feel Bobby staring at Sam and unaccountably, it made them both nervous for a moment. Bobby shook Sam’s shoulder and demon #1 made Sam start to stir, as if coming out of unconsciousness. Bobby slapped Sam’s face, none too gently, and said ‘Sam, wake up!’
‘Wha’, who’s that?’ said Sam as he pretended to start awake.
‘It’s me, Bobby! What happened here, Sam? What happened to your brother?’
‘Two demons possessed me, Bobby, and they made me do terrible things to Dean! I couldn’t stop them and they made me watch all the time! …It was awful! ... How is he?’ he asked in a worried tone.
‘He’s dead, Sam; your brother’s dead! Where are the demons now?’ he asked Sam, cautiously.
Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes and he started crying. He couldn’t speak for a few moments as he struggled with his grief but then he replied, ‘I’m so sorry, Bobby, I couldn’t help myself, they were too strong for me! The last thing I remember is they made me handcuff myself here after I put Dean on the roof, and then they smoked out of me and disappeared over that wood there. I haven’t seen them since.’
‘I’ve got some cutters in the truck; let’s get you out of those handcuffs,’ Bobby said.
As he walked away heavily, Sam smiled at his back. Soon they would have someone else to play with!
Bobby returned, holding the cutters and a bottle of water in the other hand. ‘Thought you could use a drink,’ he said to Sam.
Sam took the bottle with a grateful smile to Bobby, opened it and took a swallow. Suddenly he was on fire, choking; it was holy water!
‘You stupid sonsobitches didn’t fool me,’ Bobby shouted. ‘If you were really Sam, you’d have asked about Dean straight away, not made excuses first about being possessed! Besides, they wouldn’t have left you here – they’d have killed you too!’ Bobby threw more holy water over them, and then Ellen appeared from the edge of the woods…
She watched Sam carefully, throwing holy water over him every so often to keep the demons quiet while Bobby drew a devil’s trap around the Impala. It took a while, but Bobby managed to exorcise the demons and sent them back to Hell, one at a time… Ellen knelt down next to Dean and kissed his forehead. Then she sat down and held him, stroking his forehead and hair while Bobby did the exorcism. She felt immensely sad, seeing Dean like this. She’d not known him very long – nothing compared to Bobby – but still she loved him. She thought back to when they first met nearly a year ago, and when he’d worked on a spirit case with Jo a few weeks later. She’d blamed him for getting Jo involved in that and had likened him to his Dad, who was totally obsessive about hunting and whom she felt used people sometimes for his own ends, but she was sorry she’d said or even thought that – in truth Dean was nothing like John. He was a better man than him in so many ways, yet he thought so little of himself, only of others – his family, which was now just Sam and Bobby, and his friends, like her – and she regretted never telling him any of this. He could have been the son she’d never had and she was missing him already… Jo would be beside herself too; she’d always had a crush on him and Ellen figured deep down that if they hadn’t both been hunting, they would maybe have got together at some point…
The exorcism was over, and Sam was unconscious – it had been hard on both him and Bobby as they were two powerful demons. Bobby had never known demons to tag-team like that before…
Bobby came back to where Ellen sat with Dean. He hunkered down next to them. ‘Well, Sam’s free and he should be OK soon, then we’ll find out what really happened here. Thanks for comin’ along as back-up, Ellen; it could have turned real ugly here!’
‘No problem, Bobby, I wanted to come for Dean’s sake, when I heard he was missing, and then you found out he was hurt bad… but I never expected this!’ She let her emotions rise to the surface and started crying. Bobby’s voice became gruff and his eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he said, ‘Don’t, Ellen, you’ll start me off again! I miss that Boy, he’s as close to a son as I’ll ever get and he didn’t deserve to go out like this… they must have tortured him for days, and watching his own brother do that to him, well…’ Bobby started crying in earnest now.
‘Bobby?’ Sam said, and he turned around to see Sam sitting up. As Bobby moved, Sam caught sight of Dean, lying still and pale except for the livid marks on his neck and arms, which were visible outside the blanket.
‘Dean?’ Sam said, as he got up shakily and stumbled over to his brother. He knelt down next to him. He felt like he’d been in a nightmare for the last few days, but it was so much worse than a nightmare, it was reality! He could see the deep, dark bruises of his handprints around Dean’s neck, where he’d strangled him to death, and he could see all the marks of his hands and feet and the knives he’d used on Dean’s body when he lifted the blanket.
‘He died to save me, you know,’ said Sam conversationally, as tears poured down his cheeks. Bobby and Ellen were worried by Sam’s tone and it showed in their faces, but he continued on in the same even way, ignoring the looks they gave him. ‘One of them told Dean that they were making me watch so I would be tortured too, and when he heard that, he died only a little while later. He told me it wasn’t my fault, not to blame myself for anything, and I think, no, I know he gave up then, to give me a chance. They told him I was going crazy and they let him look into my eyes so he could see it for himself, and I remember thinking I couldn’t hold on and watch this torture anymore – God, the things they made me do to him, and the sounds he made! So he just gave up and left…it was the only way he could think of to save me…’ Sam’s voice faltered and he looked away…
****************************************************
Dean woke up in the dark. He was laying on something that was slightly scratchy, firm, yet slightly wielding at the same time – he should have known what it was straight away but he was confused because the last thing he remembered was being choked by two demons in that cabin in North Dakota and… he died, didn’t he? He remembered Sam’s hands closing around his throat and him squeezing, hard, and he’d no air in his lungs because he’d breathed it all out just as the hands went around his neck because he wanted to die, he wanted to give up his life to give Sammy a chance to live… so what happened?
He sat up and his hands felt sand under his fingers. It was soft and sugary, and there was a light breeze blowing, which cooled his skin, but the air itself was warm. He could hear the distant booming of water coming in to the land, so he was near the sea? What the Hell? His eyes started adjusting to the dark and he could make out stars now; there was a pale sliver of moon hanging low down on the horizon and he could see glints of water as the surf rolled in. He still couldn’t see himself, but he touched his neck, which wasn’t swollen like before, and his body, and he could feel his skin was whole – there didn’t seem to be any of the cuts or bruises, broken ribs or broken bones he’d had when he was alive – well, before, anyway? He was still just wearing the same pair of shorts though, which was awkward. He felt something was missing and his hand went up to his neck as he tried to find his amulet, but it was gone…
He sat there, just enjoying the sound of the sea, the noise of the waves rolling forwards and backwards over the sand, the warmth and the cool air blowing over his skin. It was a long time – years – since he’d done anything like this. He always seemed to be travelling from job to job in his car, with little time to make detours for something like this, but he remembered now how much he liked to just watch the sea when he was younger. Was this some form of afterlife, or was he still alive and dreaming, tied up in the cabin and being tortured by demons? It was so real though – much more vivid than any dreams he usually had – and surely he’d be aware of some pain if he was still alive but unconscious or dreaming?
He shook his head and wondered what had happened to Sammy. Was he still alive? Had the demons left him unharmed? He doubted it, but he’d had no other options left at the time, so he’d made an instinctive decision. He still didn’t know what had really happened to him but he knew there were no answers here, so reluctantly he got up and started to walk down the beach to see if there were any clues…
He’d walked for a long time until the stars paled and the moon set, until he could just see a pale yellow glow on the horizon announcing that dawn was on its way, when he saw a building up ahead. It was indistinct at first but as he neared it he saw it was a bar. He stopped and smiled – obviously there would be one in his dreams – and he realized how thirsty he was. The demons had never given him anything to drink for more than three days so he was looking forward to a beer – and maybe some answers?
Ellen and Bobby were in Bobby’s truck, sharing whisky from Bobby’s flask and coffee from Ellen’s thermos, while Sam had some time on his own with Dean. Sam had insisted on cleaning Dean up himself. He washed away all the dried blood and dust and dirt that covered him, and he covered up all the worst cuts with bandages and dressings, then he’d dressed him in clean clothes from his bag in the Impala. Once Dean was fully clothed and all his wounds were hidden, he looked much better. Sam thought he didn’t look like he was dead; just like he was sleeping… He carried Dean to the other side of the Impala so he could have some privacy with him and to shade him from the sun, which was shining intermittently through the clouds massing across the sky now. No-one, least of all Sam, wanted to take Dean back inside the cabin, where he’d been tortured, not even for a little while…
Ellen and Bobby had gone in there earlier to look around, but the air was still heavy with the sweet, cloying smell of blood, even after all these hours. The small chair, where Dean had been tied up, sat lonely in the middle of the room: it looked like it had been painted red at first glance, but when they got close they could see it was covered with blood, Dean’s blood, and the floor under and around the chair for some way was splashed and splattered with gouts of blood – they even extended to the walls in places. Bobby walked over to a pile of clothes lying in a heap near one corner. He picked them up and saw they were Dean’s, but they had been ripped apart as if they had been torn from his body in a frenzy and he didn’t want to imagine how creatures who did that would have treated Dean – except he had seen the results for himself. Next to the clothes he found the leather string Dean used to hold the amulet Sam had given to him at Christmas, oh, fifteen years ago now. Bobby had given it to Sam to give to his Dad as a present – John never gave the Boys much money, they had to work hard for everything – especially Dean! Bobby smiled to himself as he remembered Dean telling him excitedly that Sammy had given it to him instead of their Dad and he was so happy… He never took the damn thing off after that! The string had been snapped but that didn’t matter as long as he found the amulet – Dean should have it back before they buried him – and he bent down to look for it. He found it wedged into the floorboards behind Dean’s clothes; one of the demons must have driven it into the floor with a hammer or something and it was battered and misshapen now. He sighed heavily and set about trying to pull it out; it came free with some effort after he’d used his knife to gouge the floorboard around it, but it was more damaged than he thought – still, Dean would want it back, whatever its condition. He sighed again, put it into his pocket and stood up…
Ellen was over the far side of the room, close to the wall. She was kneeling down, looking at something but he couldn’t see what because she was in the way. He went over and saw her staring at the knives they must have used on Dean. They had been driven into the floorboards so hard they were stuck in at least an inch deep. Bobby and Ellen could see the blood mingled with slivers of flesh along the lengths of all the blades, and there were a lot of them…
Sam was sitting on the ground, holding Dean, as he had been for the last two hours… He’d spent the first hour telling Dean over and over how sorry he was; how he’d let him down; how Dean had always been there for him and had sacrificed everything for him and he hadn’t reciprocated, not nearly enough anyway; how much he missed his big brother and how he didn’t know if he could go on without him, until his voice hoarsened and then cracked – and all the while tears were falling unnoticed down his face… The second hour he just sat quietly, remembering the time they’d spent together as kids and how Dean was always there, watching out for him… and then, when they were older, how the three of them, Dean, Dad and him, went hunting together… Fast forward then to the argument Sam had with his Dad about going to Stanford, and he remembered the hurt look on Dean’s face when he heard for the first time about Sam’s plans to leave… Sam had left his family behind for two years and he regretted turning his back on both of them, but especially Dean… He realized that he’d never even hugged his brother for years, since God knows when – wait, the last time was that July 4th when he was thirteen or fourteen and Dean had stolen a pile of fireworks. They’d had the best time ever setting them all off, and he’d put his arms around Dean to thank him…. He tried to hug Dean now, but it was one-sided of course. Still, he held Dean tightly and Dean’s head was on his shoulder so he could pretend for a while that everything was still alright…
Dean opened the door of the bar and walked in. He felt very self-conscious – not a feeling he was very familiar with – but he consoled himself that this was probably a dream and he shouldn’t worry about it. There were no customers in here anyway, just the bartender, who was polishing glasses. He realized with sudden clarity that he had no pockets and no wallet or money and cursed himself for being so stupid! He was just turning around to leave when the bartender called him over. ‘Hey, Man, it’s free drinks for the next two hours, grab a seat!’
Dean turned back and saw the man was smiling at him, and he approached the bar cautiously.
‘Can I have a beer?’ he asked, expecting it all to be a big joke.
‘Sure, what do you want?’ Dean looked and pointed at his favorite bottled beer.
‘Comin’ right up!’ said the bartender cheerfully, and he handed Dean the open beer, which he gratefully accepted. He took a long, slow pull and gasped as the ice-cold liquid hit the back of his throat. ‘God, that’s … amazing!’
‘Our beer’s the best in town, they tell me,’ the bartender replied. ‘New here, are you?’
‘Yes. Can you tell me where ‘here’ is?’ Dean asked.
‘Well, that’s not so easy to answer. Where do you think it is?’ the bartender countered.
‘I don’t know. This is going to sound crazy, but I’m not sure if this is real or if I’m dreamin’,’ Dean said.
‘Well, it could be either,’ the bartender replied, ‘It just depends…’
’Depends on what?’ Dean asked.
‘Depends on what you were doing before you came here, I guess. Like, were you just in bed, trying to go to sleep, or were you, ah, in an accident or somethin’?’
Dean took another drink from the bottle and finished it. ‘Can I have another?’ he asked.
‘Sure!’ the bartender replied, handing him another beer.
Dean thought how to answer the question. Either he was still dreaming or unconscious or whatever or this was some weird place. Either way, it seemed he’d have to say what he thought had happened to find answers, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. ‘Well, I was being choked to death and I thought I’d died,’ he said.
‘Looks like you’re really here then, not dreamin’,’ the bartender replied, still smiling, but now in a regretful way.
‘Well, where am I then?’ he asked again, ‘Where’s here?’
The bartender’s face became serious as he looked directly in Dean’s eyes. ‘Have you heard of a place for people who kill themselves?’ he asked.
‘Look, I’m not religious,’ Dean said, ’and besides I didn’t kill myself, demons killed me!’
‘So you didn’t want to die, you didn’t just give up to save someone?’
Dean stopped with the bottle to his lips. ‘How did you know that?’ he asked. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m just someone who knows things about people,’ he said, smiling kindly again at Dean. ‘For instance I know you let yourself die to try and save your brother, Sam; you just gave up your life so he wouldn’t go crazy.’
Dean stared at him, his beer forgotten. ‘Well, he’s my little brother, I had to save him! He would have gone crazy and probably died…’
‘Yes, probably… that’s very definite… and what do you think he’s thinking and doing now that he knows you’ve died for him?’ the bartender asked.
Bobby came around the side of the car and saw Sam trying to hug Dean as hard as he could. His eyes were closed and his face was calm and Bobby thought he might be starting to accept Dean’s death, which was a relief, but then Sam’s eyes snapped open and he saw a terrible anger, mixed with grief and pain and self-loathing, and for a second, he saw madness lurking there too…
‘Sam,’ Bobby said gently, we should be goin’ now; we’ve a long drive back and we need to get Dean home.’
‘We haven’t got a home, Bobby,’ Sam said in that reasonable tone he’d used before, but it filled Bobby with dread far more than if Sam had started shouting or screaming.
‘Well, I mean my place, but it’s been yours and Dean’s home as much as mine this last year, Sam, and way before that when you were just kids...‘ He knew Sam didn’t mean it, not really, but it still hurt to hear him say that.
‘OK, Bobby, I’m sorry. I’m driving with Dean though; we’ll follow you and Ellen.’
Bobby wasn’t so keen on that idea, not after he’d seen Sam’s eyes, but he knew Sam would dig his heels in if he tried to change the arrangements, so he shrugged and started to walk away, then shouted back over his shoulder, ‘Keep up then, and don’t stop to pee!’
Sam couldn’t stand the silence with Dean laying quiet on the back seat: it unnerved him. He played all Dean’s favorite music while he drove and even sang along to the songs – something he hardly ever did, but he knew Dean would appreciate it…That aside, they arrived back at Bobby’s place without incident later that evening. Sam tried to lift Dean carefully out of the back seat but he’d stiffened up in the last few hours so he couldn’t bend him, not without breaking Dean’s bones and he wasn’t going to do that to him again! He thought about pulling him out straight but he wasn’t going to drag Dean like a piece of meat onto the ground. He could have asked Bobby for help but he didn’t want anyone else – not even Bobby – to touch him, and besides, he didn’t want to carry his brother between them like a piece of furniture. He stood back. No, forget the house, it was better to leave Dean here, in his beloved Impala. This is where he’d want to be; this was his real home, no matter what Bobby thought…
Bobby wandered over while Ellen went inside. ‘Want some help carrying Dean?’ he asked, gruffly.
‘No thanks, Bobby. Dean’s staying here; I know this is the place he’d want to be right now.’
‘You can’t leave him here, Kid, he needs to be with us, inside, until the funeral!’ said Bobby. He sounded really upset but Sam just ignored it.
‘No, Bobby,’ he said patiently. His face was calm and his tone never changed from being even and reasonable, which worried the Hell out of Bobby – Sam should be showing some emotion, some feelings by now!
Sam continued, ‘It’ll hurt Dean trying to get him out of here because he’s all stiff now and I’m not dragging him around like a piece of meat. No, he’s staying here, and I’ll be with him; he won’t be alone anymore...’ Bobby shook his head wordlessly and walked back to the house, while Sam talked to Dean and tried to make him more comfortable on the back seat…
Bobby and Ellen exchanged worried glances in Bobby’s kitchen. Ellen shared his concern about Sam and his attitude to Dean now…
Bobby, you’ll have to have the funeral tomorrow – It’s not healthy for Sam to want to spend every minute with Dean or to try to stop anyone else getting near him,’ said Ellen.
‘I know,’ Bobby replied. ‘Let’s just leave it for tonight and I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning. They should be safe enough in the car tonight but I’ll sleep down here on the sofa and keep an eye on them and you can have my bed. But Ellen, if he doesn’t agree about the funeral, what am I going to do? It’s his brother after all.’
‘Brother or not, you can’t keep Dean around here, especially not in the car and out in the open – it’s not right and it’s not healthy! And you were like a Dad to Dean so you’re going to have to do what you have to do, Bobby! I’ll help, o’ course!’ she said.
Bobby knew Ellen was right but he wasn’t looking forward to a confrontation with Sam…
A little later, Ellen took some sandwiches, a beer and a couple of blankets out to Sam. It was almost full dark now and the rain which had promised to fall hadn’t. The clouds had moved away and the night was crisp and clear, with some stars just starting to creep out…
‘Brought you some food and a drink, Hon, and it might be cold later on so I’ve got a couple of extra blankets for you,’ she said to Sam.
‘Thanks, Ellen,’ said Sam, but his voice was neutral, there was no emotion there. ‘I’m not hungry, but Dean will appreciate an extra blanket tonight.’
‘Sam, the blankets are for you,’ she said, gently. ‘Dean doesn’t need any more, he’s fine.’
‘I just don’t want him to feel the cold, Ellen. Don’t worry, we’ll have one each.’
Ellen shook her head and walked away without another word.
‘Bobby, I’m really worried about Sam! I don’t know if he understands that Dean is really dead – he seems to be blocking it out.’
‘Ellen, he’s still in shock! I think he’ll come around. Let’s just give him a little more time – tonight – like we agreed, and then we’ll both sit down with him in the morning.’
‘I’m not sure, Bobby, I think there’s more to it than that,’ she said, doubtfully. ‘Don’t forget he seems to be blaming himself for letting the demons in and using him to torture and kill Dean; I don’t think he’s handling things, is all.’ Ellen fell silent.
‘Look, I hear you. We’ll both stay down here and take turns staying awake tonight to keep an eye on him, OK?’ Bobby shared her concern but still hoped everything would be alright once Sam had some rest…
They were awakened in the early morning, sometime before dawn, by music coming from the Impala at full volume.
‘What the Hell?’ said Bobby, sitting bolt upright in his armchair. He was supposed to be on watch but he’d fallen into a light doze. Ellen sat up sleepily on the sofa and rubbed her eyes.
‘Wha’s happenin’, Bobby?’ she asked.
‘Well, Sam’s awake, that’s for sure! I’ll go and check…’
Bobby went outside into the dark. He could see Sam in the passenger seat and he looked like he was singing.
He walked up to the open window on Sam’s side and said, ‘Hey, Sam, everythin’ OK?’
Sam turned the music off. Yeah, Bobby, everythin’s fine,’ he said, but Bobby could see the sick misery in his eyes, contradicting his words.
‘Why are you playing this music so loud, Sam – it’s really early?’
‘Well it’s lonely out here, Bobby, and Dean’s not talkin’ so I thought some music would cheer us both up.’
Bobby walked around to the driver’s side, opened the door and sat down.
‘Sam, I’m sorry, but Dean’s dead, y’ know that, right? We have to bury him in the morning, or give him a Hunter’s funeral, whatever you decide…’
Sam’s face hardened, ‘You shouldn’t be sitting in Dean’s seat, Bobby! Please just leave us.’
Bobby hesitated: Sam was in real trouble but he didn’t know how to help him. He needed Ellen’s advice… ‘OK, Sam, I’m sorry. You just play the music and I’ll see you in the mornin’. We’ll talk then, right?’
He got out and walked back to the cabin. Sam turned the music back on and continued singing along to Bon Jovi.
Thirty minutes later, while Bobby and Ellen were still talking, trying to decide what they should do about Sam, they heard the gunshot over the sounds of Metallica. It was shockingly loud and was still echoing in their heads when they both ran outside to the car. The front windows were half-rolled up, like before, but now there were splatters of blood on them and on the windscreen. Sam’s head was leaning forward against the dash and it was turned away from them. Bobby got there first. The smell of cordite was floating out of the windows but as he pulled Sam’s door open the smell flooded out, filling his nostrils. He put his hand on Sam’s neck but there was no pulse, and then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw the bullet wound in the top of his head. Sam’s arm was dangling down and Dean’s gun was lying on the floor below his loose fingers. Bobby stepped back, turned around and leaned against the car, breathing heavily. Ellen didn’t need to look at Sam, she could see from Bobby’s face what had happened…
*************************************************
Dean stared open-mouthed at the bartender. ‘I was trying to do my best for my brother,’ he said, defensively. ‘He couldn’t take much more, I could see that.’
‘Don’t you think the best thing for Sam would have been for you to live? I mean, if he saw you die, what would that do to him?’ The bartender opened another beer and handed it to Dean, who realized he’d finished the last bottle without being aware of it.
Dean took a swallow while he thought. ‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly. ‘I think I just saw his pain and wanted to find a way out for him. I didn’t really think about what would happen next…’
‘Do you think maybe he would have wanted to die too because he couldn’t stand being alive, knowing you died to try and save him?’
‘But I was going to die anyway. The demons had almost killed me and there was no-one to save us… At least what I did gave him a chance to keep his sanity and fight on,’ said Dean, but he looked like he didn’t really believe that anymore…
The bartender looked over at him and his gaze was sharp now, fierce. ‘But you didn’t know it was hopeless. You couldn’t know what would happen next; you just gave up and quit on your own brother – and what about Bobby? How would all this affect him?’
Dean stared at him, and thought he’d made a huge mistake, the biggest of his life …
Bobby stood there for what seemed like ages, trying to get his breathing under control. His face flitted between expressions of sorrow, despair, anger, even panic, as he contemplated life without both of his Boys.
‘Bobby, go inside and sit down,’ said Ellen gently.
‘Ellen… I can’t… it’s too much,’ and he sank down to his knees and put his head in his hands. She kneeled down next to him and put her arms around his shoulders as he started to sob.
‘Bobby, it’s OK, shush, it’s not your fault,’ she said, trying to soothe him. She’d never seen Bobby lose control like this before, but then he’d just lost the two people he loved the most, and she knew he was blaming himself for both their deaths, however much that wasn’t true… She pulled him up and led him, unprotestingly, inside. She poured him a large whisky, which he accepted silently but gratefully and then went back outside to Sam. She couldn’t see him clearly before because Bobby was in the way but he was slumped forwards onto the dashboard with his head turned away from her. She took a deep breath and pulled him back into his seat and saw the blood which covered his lower face and chest. He must have put the gun in his mouth and aimed it upwards because the track of the bullet hadn’t damaged his features although it had made a mess of his skull as it exited. She felt his pulse again and checked his breathing – not that she expected to find any life, it was just an automatic reaction. Sam was truly dead. She held his cheek in affection and then covered him with a blanket. She opened the rear door to check on Dean. He was still lying peacefully on the back seat, untouched by what had gone on around him, and she felt a deeper despair now that he had sacrificed his life for Sam in vain... It was still dark but there was a hint of gray in the air as pre-dawn approached, and as her eyes adjusted she saw something on top of Dean’s middle – it was a book and there was something else – an envelope – on top. She picked them both up and took them back inside to Bobby.
He was already on his second whisky and looking like he wanted to finish the bottle in double-quick time.
‘Hold up, Bobby, drinking yourself stupid won’t help now!’ she said, although she sympathized and would like nothing more than to sink a few herself; but there was work to do.
‘Here, look at these – they were on top of Dean; Sam must have left them for you.’
Bobby put his whisky down and took the items she held out. It was John’s journal, which was now Dean’s, and the letter was in Sam’s handwriting, addressed to him. He opened it and scanned the contents quickly. Tears had formed again in his eyes as he held it out to Ellen, without saying a word. She read the contents:
‘Bobby,
Sorry, but I can’t live with this. Dean’s dead, all because of me. I know what dean said and I know what you’d say, it was the demons, it wasn’t me, but I just don’t believe that. I should have been able to stop them possessing me – dean would have – and I should’ve taken control of my own body when they started torturing him. All I can think about is the pain and suffering I caused him for days and days, and his screams are in my head all the time… I’ll never have any peace, bobby, and there’s nothing left for me here now… I’m sorry to cause you more pain – you’ve been like a father to me and dean so thank you, from both of us. I’ve left dean’s journal for you – please keep it to remember us, and please, give us both a hunter’s burial in the impala.
Say goodbye to ellen and jo from us both, too.
sam’
‘That poor boy!’ she said, as her eyes filled with tears also. ‘We should’ve seen it, Bobby, we let him down!’
‘You didn’t, Ellen, it was my fault! You said something more was going on with Sam and I didn’t listen… and now look what’s come of it! Dean will never forgive me for not looking after his brother, and I wouldn’t blame him neither!’
‘Look, Bobby, enough hand-wringing! It’s not your fault – you did your best, as always! I didn’t mean it about you letting him down, that was just me talking out of turn when I wasn’t thinking straight, and I’m sorry for that. You’ve always said Sam was a deep one and he just didn’t want to share this… We both tried to help him and I doubt if anything could’ve made him change his mind. Dean wouldn’t blame you either; he knows how much you care and he wouldn’t want you punishing yourself now, especially after what’s happened to Sam… You’re the only person left he really cared about.’
‘Except you and Jo,’ Bobby said, with a hint of a smile, and she smiled back at him… ‘You’re a hard woman, Ellen, but I guess you’re right! Giving up now after all this isn’t an option, for Dean’s and Sam’s sakes!’ He finished the whisky and put the glass down; then he said, ‘Come on, let’s get this sorted!’ and he strode outside…
The bartender’s face softened as he saw Dean’s confusion and the dawning of the realization of what he’d done, and his pain.
‘Look, you meant all this for the best. You were only trying to help Sam and you’ve a great heart! Your mistake was second-guessing what would happen and to stop fightin’, but you should never do that! You never know when help will come. Have Faith!’
‘Are you God?’ Dean asked, in wonder…
It was almost dawn now, and the sky was lightening quickly… Ellen was building up the fire around the Impala while Bobby tended to his Boys. He laid Sam down on the front seat and covered him with a blanket, and he put a cap on Sam’s head to cover the wound. Bobby half-smiled as he thought what Dean would say if he could see Sam wearing a cap – Sam would have something to say about it too! He apologized to Dean for leaving him in the back: ‘Sorry, Kid!’ but he thought he wouldn’t mind under the circumstances – swapping him and Sam was not really practical now… Then he pulled the amulet and the new string he’d found out of his pocket and threaded it onto the string. He managed to pull the amulet down over Dean’s head and it lay on his chest, in its normal position. He knew Dean would really appreciate having it back and he was glad he’d found it for him.
He checked through the Impala’s glove box and other hiding spaces for Dean’s and Sam’s possessions to see if there were any mementos he should leave with the Boys or which he could keep or give to Ellen and Jo. He thought they would like some of the Boys’ fake IDs, and he kept a couple too as he didn’t have any recent photos of them. Then he looked through the trunk. There were so many weapons that they’d accumulated over the years and he felt they should all remain with Dean and Sam, but he placed the Boys’ favorite guns on their chests – Dean had his pearl-handled ’45 and Sam had his favorite automatic.
He looked through Dean’s bag and was surprised to find three dog-eared pictures of him when he must have been around three, with his Mom and Dad, another one of them all together when Sam was only a few months old and then one when Dean was about fourteen, with his Dad and Sam – for once, all of them were smiling. They were wrapped in plastic and tucked deep down the side of one of the pockets… Bobby’s eyes glistened as he thought of Dean carrying them around for more than ten years – twenty years in the case of the first two – and never saying anything about them, but he must have looked at them often from their condition… He placed them in Dean’s shirt pocket. Sam’s bag held a bible, and he put that beside him. There was nothing else really, apart from some clothes, nothing much to show for twenty-plus years on the road, but then they didn’t do this job for the money…
He gave them one last look and hugged them both; then he closed the car doors and went to see where Ellen was at… The fire was built up now and the only thing left to do was to empty the gas tank – they didn’t want an explosion. Ellen went to say her goodbyes while Bobby emptied the tank and used it on the wood around the car, and then they were ready to fire it up…
The fire was huge, but they needed it to be big because they were burning the car too: it burned white-hot and lasted for hours. Bobby and Ellen just stood there, drinking beers and running through their memories of the Boys while they watched, occasionally adding more wood to the fire until the car was reduced to an unrecognizable heap of metal and ash and the bodies were consumed…
**************************************************
‘Who I am is really for you to decide, Dean,’ the bartender said as he handed him a fourth beer; ‘That’s why it’s called Faith. The question now is, do you want to go back and fix anything, or do you want to move on?’
Dean drank the beer while he considered this. ‘I think I’ve made a mistake about Sam. I need to show him that whatever the demons do I’ll keep fighting. I won’t give up, even if they end up killing him and me! Then it’s up to you, isn’t it?’ and he smiled at the bartender. ‘I think you’ve been telling me that I shouldn’t throw my life away, that I can’t know what’s for the best in the long run, so I want to go back and try and put things right for him and Bobby and everyone.’
The bartender smiled at Dean and gripped his shoulder with affection.
‘Are you really sure, Dean? I can’t promise what will happen to either you or Sam or Bobby. It may even end up worse than it is now. You may be tortured by those demons for much longer and the outcome may be the same…’
‘But at least I’ll have given it my best shot!’ said Dean, and he smiled back.
‘You won’t remember this place or our conversation, Dean, but you will remember what’s important,’ and he touched Dean’s forehead, gently...
***********************************************
… Dean saw Sam’s eyes close and then open, and this time it really was Sammy.
‘Heya Sammy,’ he said, trying out a lopsided smile, which was all he could manage at the moment. Sam shook his head and Dean could see the grief and the torment in his eyes; he was close to going crazy. ‘Dean, I’m so, so sorry, what I’ve done to you, what I’ve let them do to you…’
‘It’s not your fault, Sammy, don’t think like that – it’s all them,’ he whispered, fiercely. Tears of anguish fell from Sam’s eyes and Dean could see his words were having no effect as Sam looked at all Dean’s injuries. ‘Listen to me, Sammy’, he said urgently, but then Sam’s eyes closed and when they opened the demon was back in full control.
‘It’s no good, Dean. Sam knows it’s all his fault! He couldn’t stop us getting into him and he can’t stop us hurting you – he can’t do much of anything! Have you ever stopped to think why we’ve possessed Sam twice now, and not you? Well, it’s just easier to get into him because of all that anger buried down deep, all that obsession, and we’ve made sure he knows it! We’ll carry on hurting you but we’ll take it nice and slow, we’ll draw it out as long as we can, and he’ll be with us all the way… Sam will be crazy by the end, that’s a promise!’
Dean knew demons lied all the time, except when the truth hurt more, but he’d seen Sam’s eyes and knew that he was speaking the truth. Sammy couldn’t go on much longer like this, and there was no way out. Bobby didn’t know where they were – Hell, no-one did! But he wasn’t going to let those demons win, no way!
The demon started in on Dean again, using the knife. It was excruciating – he knew just where all the most sensitive places were – and Dean tried to bite back the screams for Sammy’s sake, but he couldn’t escape from moaning and grunting as the pain soared to new heights. He could feel the demon slicing open his belly and the warm surge of blood on his shorts. If it happened like before, the demon would finish with the knife soon and start choking him again… The demon put the knife down, flexed his fingers, and smiled at Dean. Dean half-smiled back, mockingly, which he knew infuriated the demon, but he wouldn’t let it break his spirit, whatever happened. The demon reached over and placed his hands around Dean’s neck and for a long moment Dean looked into Sam’s crimson eyes and he said softly, ‘It’s OK, Bro, it’s not your fault; don’t blame yourself for this, please, and keep fightin’!’ Dean thought he saw a flicker in Sam’s eyes and hoped he’d heard him. He kept looking into Sam’s eyes, hoping for a spark of recognition as the demon started squeezing his throat. Even as he struggled to breathe and felt like his lungs were going to burst he kept looking into Sammy’s crimson eyes, hoping to see Sammy there again... Soon Dean felt / heard a roaring in his ears; his vision became starred with colored lights and everything started to fade… Sammy’s image receded and Dean’s head lolled back as he slipped into unconsciousness again… The demon reluctantly let go. Dean was passing out faster each time as he was becoming weaker almost by the hour. They would have to curtail their fun or find new ways to torture him or he wouldn’t even last one more day, damn him!
Dean slowly became aware of his surroundings again. A few hours must have passed because the daylight was much stronger now. He realized he was staring at the ceiling and his neck was on fire. He could feel how swollen his throat was: he was having trouble breathing and he didn’t think he could swallow, and the back of his mouth and his throat held the coppery smell and taste of blood. He felt so weak he knew he could last much longer – one more torture session like the others and he didn’t think he’d wake up again… Hell, he wasn’t even sure he’d survive now if they let him alone…
The demon sauntered over to him, carrying his favorite knife.
‘Ready to play again, Dean?’ he asked.
Dean tried to talk but nothing came out. He tried to cough up the blood pooling at the back of his mouth and throat but he couldn’t – it just sent waves of searing pain and dizziness through him and he almost blacked out again. He didn’t even have any spit left to try and clear his mouth. All he could do was to sit there, panting with exhaustion and pain. The demon looked at him with mock concern. ‘Would you like a drink of water, Dean?’
Dean nodded, although he was sure the demon wouldn’t give him anything to drink – it was probably something more to torture him with – and the demon turned around to go to the kitchen.
Suddenly the door flew open and Bobby ran in, throwing holy water everywhere. Ellen followed close behind. The demons were taken by surprise and Sam fell to his knees, screaming as the water splashed his face and chest. Bobby stood over him and knocked him out cold with the butt of his rifle. Ellen handcuffed Sam and started drawing a devil’s trap around him while Bobby went over to Dean. He slit the bonds holding him to the chair but Dean couldn’t take his own weight now that there was nothing holding him to the chair and he collapsed and slid off it before Bobby could stop him…
Bobby lifted Dean gently into a sitting position and said urgently, ‘Hey, Dean, stay with me!’ as his eyes started to roll up into his head. Dean struggled to focus on Bobby and tried to talk, but nothing came out and he lost consciousness again, briefly... He woke up to find Bobby holding a glass of water to his lips and he sipped gratefully at it, but he started choking straightway as his throat was almost closed up tight. Bobby held him until the spasm stopped and he could drink again, but the effort was too much and everything started to turn dark…
‘Ellen, we’ve gotta move this along – Dean’s in real bad shape!’ he heard Bobby say over his head.
‘I hear ya, Bobby, just starting the exorcism now,’ she replied evenly.
Dean could almost picture the words floating above him and he was trying to work out what they meant, then his brain snapped back into focus momentarily. He waved a hand and made a motion of writing to Bobby.
‘Ellen, quick, find a pen and paper – Dean’s trying to tell me somethin’!’
Ellen couldn’t find any paper but she brought a pen over and Bobby said, ‘Write on here, Boy!’ and he held out his hand. Dean shakily wrote ‘2 Demons’ on the back of Bobby’s hand and then his hand fell…
‘What the Hell!’ Bobby exclaimed. ‘Two demons – both inside Sam, now? – Are you sure?’ Dean nodded slightly. ‘Ellen, you gotta do the exorcism twice. Don’t let Sam out until you’re sure they’re both gone! Thanks, Dean!’ but Dean had already slipped back under again…
Bobby shook Dean gently and his eyes fluttered but he didn’t respond.
‘Dean!’ Come on!’ Bobby shouted, and he shook Dean harder. Dean felt like he was floating but he tried to come back towards Bobby’s voice.
‘Ellen, I can’t wake him, I’m not sure he’s goin’ to make it!’
Ellen stopped her chanting to say, ’Dean’s a fighter, Bobby, he’ll make it. Have Faith!’ Dean eyes fluttered open when he heard her say that. A half-smile appeared on his face as he thought, ‘You sound just like the bartender, Ellen…’ Bobby saw Dean respond and was overjoyed but at the same time puzzled by his smile. He smiled back at Dean, but then Dean’s eyes closed and his head fell back over Bobby’s arm…
‘Dean… Dean! … DEAN!’ Bobby shouted as he shook Dean hard, but Dean stayed silent and still…
************************************************************************
Dean woke up much later – it must have been late afternoon from the sunlight falling into the car. He thought he was lying down on the back seat of his Baby – it felt like her anyway – and he was covered in blankets. He still couldn’t talk but a small sound of pain escaped his lips involuntarily. Whoever was driving must have been listening out for any sounds because the car immediately pulled over. Someone got out and ran round to the back and opened the rear door. Dean couldn’t see who it was because his vision was blurry, but he knew the voice:
‘Dean!’ said Sam, joyfully. ‘You’re awake!’ He lifted Dean up, carefully, and hugged him hard, until Dean couldn’t hold back his grimace of pain anymore. Sam loosened his grip immediately and said, ‘Sorry!’ but he still hugged Dean, gently now, and Dean weakly tried to hug him back.
‘Dean, I’m so sorry I hurt you; I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop those demons! I tried but they were too strong for me! Bobby’s taking us to a doctor he knows to patch you up. It’s goin’ to take a while for you to get better but you will, and I’m goin’ to look after you for a change!’ Sam smiled at him and Dean smiled back.
The bartender smiled with them …