Picking up the Pieces (SPN, Dean)

[telltale]

I continue to love this, and especially at this moment in time I am very into the depth and realism and no-quick-fixes you give to the characters.

[Shamaël]

This story is really incredible. I love the way you analyse the characters' relationship and thoughts and psyche. What I preferred was the parellel between Sam and Dean and their respective "addiction". And then the whole dialogue between the brothers about Dean's date... There was a perfect balance between emotion and humour.

On 08/06/2017 at 2:54 PM, MissBayliss said:

“Man, you get insightful at 3 o’clock in the morning.”

Thank you for sharing (I can't find any original way of telling you how much I like what you do...)!

[MissBayliss]

@Wow Really? Thank you, my dear! I'm so glad you're still with me after all this time and still finding this enjoyable  (and don't worry, I'll let it hang on as long as I can )

@telltale I'm so happy you're still into this fic! It's been going for quite a while now! (I just checked and it's coming up to a year!). I'm glad you noticed that because I've really tried to make this whole story... you know, art imitating life. Because in reality there is no quick fixes, usually. And it's part of what I didn't like in the show, is that Dean became "well" again, so quickly after what he'd been through, and I really wanted to add depth and explore how he would really have struggled with the memories of hell. Really pleased you're still enjoying the story  

@Aliena H. Hehe, thank you so much! I appreciate all your comments and they really spur me on  I'm glad you're liking this!

[Wow Really?]

16 hours ago, MissBayliss said:

@Wow Really? Thank you, my dear! I'm so glad you're still with me after all this time and still finding this enjoyable  (and don't worry, I'll let it hang on as long as I can )

Woot! 

[MissBayliss]

A/N: I'm so sorry for the length of time between updates >.< Forgive me. 

 

Chapter Twenty Six

 

Sam wasn’t sure if Dean remembered their talk that night, about dad, and all the things he’d revealed. Very telling things about his current mental state. Even how they talked about Katie. Sam wasn’t sure. But he dare not ask. Whatever it was, whatever had broken in Dean that night had somehow transitioned into where he was now. Almost back to his macho self, wanting to push through. Determined. Driven. Dean. For some reason, though, it made Sam uneasy. He didn’t want Dean pushing it too far. He was in a really fragile state, physically and mentally. And Sam didn’t want to count his blessings. Not too soon anyway.

Dean’s back was healing though. He was doing the right things. Staying on top of the exercises the physio gave him, taking short walks, stretching. He was going to be in pain for a long time, maybe forever, but for now his back was as stable as it was going to get, bones fused and held together with rods and pins and things they probably had to drill in… it’s a wonder Dean had even consented to the surgery in the first place. After… everything he’d been through. Sam shuddered to think. It was going to be a long recovery, but he was recovering. The complications with the pneumonia didn’t make things any easier on him. That was probably the most worrying thing at this point. His voice was still strained. He couldn’t lie down for too long without getting this pain in his chest from the build up of fluid. He was coughing all the time, and was out of breath from just walking down the hall. He still occasionally pulled the nebuliser out when it got really bad.

Sam stared into his coffee cup, tilting it back and forth and watching the liquid move. Sometimes he had to stop and think. Catalogue Dean’s problems. Not only was his back still mending, and his lungs still struggling, he was still stricken with nightmares, barely sleeping, and blacking out at weird moments whether he was triggered or not. Sam tried to believe he wasn’t drinking but he had his doubts. He couldn’t watch him every second.

So, what was it then? Broken back, pneumonia with pleural effusion, recent shoulder surgery, PTSD, alcoholism, hepatitis… Sam put his face in his hands.

“What’s eatin’ you, Francis?”

Dean had wandered into the kitchen and was staring at him, one eyebrow raised, hand on the handle of the fridge.

Sam smiled, lifting his head, “Nothing. Just tired, I guess.”

Dean frowned, “You getting some sleep? Those ribs getting any worse?”

Sam warmed inside. It was nice having his brother back. The moments like this, where Dean seemed more like himself, were few and far between. Sam relished them when he had them now, wishing he’d done the same before Dean had gone to hell.

“Nah, they’re about the same. I’m alright, just not used to your industrial pain killers, man. How do you even stand upright on them?”

“Practice,” Dean smirked and opened the fridge.

Sam looked at his watch, “Dude, I made you a sandwich an hour ago.”

“And I’m hungry.”

Sam chuckled.

 

Knock, knock, knock.

 

Dean turned, looking at Sam, eyebrows furrowed. Sam returned the stare and got up, heading to the door and opening it.

“Hi. Sam, right? We’ve met.”

“Yeah, Katie, hi,” Sam smiled politely, as Katie stood on their front porch.

Sam heard Dean approach from behind him.

“Hey,” he said, and Sam stepped aside, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean swallowed, elevated his chin slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

Dean coughed twice into his fist, “Let’s take a walk.”

Sam gave a tiny nod and backed off as Dean shut the front door behind him.

 

…

 

Dean pulled his boots on in awkward silence as Katie watched him. He fought a little head rush when he’d straightened.

“You sure you wanna go for a walk? Are you feeling okay?”

Dean suppressed a groan, clearly he looked about as good as he felt, “I’m fine.”

They went slowly down the few stairs at the front of the house and didn’t speak until they’d made it about ten metres down the street.

“Dean, I –“

“Stop.”

She sighed, eyes shiny, “I just want to explain.”

“No… I want to explain. Some… stuff happened to me. Bad stuff. Awful… stuff I can’t even…”

Her hand hovered near his arm but didn’t touch him.

“And I’m not okay… at all. I drink too much and I don’t sleep most nights, and I can’t stop… remembering it. All of it,” Dean paused, biting his lip, wondering if he should even be talking about all this, “You know, when I was in hospital they made me see a shrink.”

“I’m sorry –“

“And part of me thinks, you know, maybe I should see someone, but I can’t because I’ll have to talk about it and I, I, I just can’t.”

“I didn’t know.”

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, “Maybe I acted like a dick. I’m sorry. But it felt like a deception. You were a good thing… something else to think about. But now…”

Katie looked down and discreetly wiped a tear.

“Katie, you’re young and beautiful. A guy like me… you should run like hell,” he said softly.

“Dean, I never started this whole thing because I wanted to try and fix you. Obviously I’m interested in how the human mind works, it’s why I was studying psychology. So, yes, I found you interesting. I wanted to understand, but it’s more than that. I really, truly do want to help you get through this, because I like you, a little more than just a friend. I understand if you don't feel that way.”

Dean sighed, stopping to sit on a park bench. He was starting to pant like he’d run a marathon trying to walk and talk at the same time. Katie sat next to him, body turned towards him.

He paused, cleared his throat, watched a neighbour walking their dog.

“I don’t.”

Katie looked down and Dean didn’t even glance over. He knew she was crying.

“Because I can’t. There’s too much going on in my life right now.”

“That’s okay,” she said, nodding.

“I’m sorry.”

Katie brought a hand to her face and wiped a tear, Dean still didn’t look at her.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Dean sniffed, “Feels like it.”

He bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees, releasing a cough that came rumbling out of his chest.

She touched him for the first time, putting a delicate hand on his back and rubbing up and down as he shuddered with coughs. This was what he liked. To be touched. That was why just having sex with girls was so much easier than all of this… feelings crap.

“You have a lot of people that care about you, Dean.”

Dean rubbed his fingers across his brow.

“Yeah, guess so,” he muttered. Mainly because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Katie sighed and when he glanced over at her she was smiling, tears glistening on her cheeks, “I should go. Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Dean shook his head, “Nah, I’ll… sit for a while.”

She stood and put her hands in her pockets, “I’ll see ya, Dean.”

Dean nodded and offered her a small smile. He didn’t watch as she walked away. He didn't even look.

 

…

 

Sam looked out the window and saw Katie’s car was gone from out the front.

“Bobby?” Sam called.

“Yeah?” he heard echo from the older hunter’s room.

“Has Dean come back yet?”

Bobby came down the hall, confused expression on his face, “Haven’t seen him.”

Sam furrowed his brow and opened the front door.

“I’ll find him.”

Bobby nodded, “Call me if you need me.”

Sam nodded back and closed the door behind him.

He headed down the street in the direction he watched they had taken. It wasn’t long before he found his brother. Sitting on a park bench, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, head down.

He heard him cough from down the street, watched his shoulder’s sag even further. He looked wrecked.

Sam didn’t say anything. He knew Dean had seen him coming, and knew he didn’t have to announce his presence.

He sat down beside his brother, hands in his pockets and stared straight ahead. They were silent for a while before Sam spoke.

“You okay?”

Dean sighed, ending with a cough, “Yeah, fantastic,” he said sarcastically.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I want my life back, Sam.”

Sam looked straight at his brother for the first time since he sat down.

“I want out of this stupid town.”

Sam grimaced, looking back down at his shoes, “I know you do.”

Dean coughed again, then groaned, “Alright, help me up, dude.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and helped him stand.

The brothers walked down the street shoulder to shoulder. Dean was a little slow but not as slow as he had been, and he wasn’t limping or favouring one side over the other and that was good.

Dean sniffed, “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, glancing sidelong at his brother.

Dean just nodded his head and kept his gaze forward.

“You wanna… come with me?”

Dean furrowed his brow and looked at Sam, “You serious?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Dean looked confused, “Like to work?”

Sam smiled, “To do whatever, man. If you just wanna hang out, have dinner and hustle pool, that’s fine. If you wanna give me a hand that works too. I’m gonna need a few breaks today, my ribs are really bothering me… I could use your help.”

“Don’t know if I should be hustling pool for a while…” Dean muttered, cynically.

“You just gotta pick your marks a bit better,” Sam smirked.

Dean grinned and eyed him, “Shut up,” he moaned.

 

…

 

Sam drove them both down to the clinic before work. Dean had to have another chest x-ray to make sure his pleural effusion had resolved. It was an in/out job. The radiologist didn’t tell him anything, just that she’d fax her report and the images of to his GP. Dean was happy enough with that. He didn’t want to have to deal with any more health issues at the moment. He just wanted to get to the bar and see Riley… and put his hands all over her…

 

…

 

Dean looked over the bar to where Sam was sitting, having a half hour break. Dean knew Sam was hurting but he also knew that this was mainly for his benefit. Sam could tell he was itchy, wanting to get out, sick of the monotony. This was his olive branch. And at the moment it was enough.

“Hey, handsome. Wanna help me bring a keg up?”

Dean raised his eyebrow and flicked his gaze to Riley, who had her hip popped, leaning against the bar. She was wearing short, tight black shorts. He followed her long olive skinned legs with his eyes, down to the floor where she had black converse shoes on. He took a breath in, then found her eyes again.

“What are you kidding?”

She smirked, “No, I…” she approached, “really need you to help bring a keg up… you know, out the back, from the storeroom…”

Dean grinned, looking down.

Riley stepped out towards the back, walking backwards, eyes not leaving his.

“Come on, stud. You don’t want me to have to… do it by myself, do you?” She winked.

Dean cleared his throat and signalled Sam.

Sam furrowed his brow and came over.

“What’s up?”

“I’m tapping you in.”

“You okay?”

“Oh, I will be.”

“Huh?”

Dean just smiled.

 

…

 

Riley had her legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, her backside parked on top of a stack of beer cartons. Dean kissed her neck, teeth skimming her jaw line as they moved against each other.

“Yeah, I’ll just get another keg!”

“Oh, shit,” Riley whispered in Dean’s ear as the door to the storeroom opened.

“Whoa! Oh my god, sorry, guys!” Jake, the young bartender, backed out of the room.

Riley pushed Dean off, “Shit,” she said again.

Dean laughed, doing up his pants and fastening his belt, “What’s the big deal?”

“I’m that kids boss, Dean,” Riley muttered, pulling her hair back in a ponytail.

“Hey, it was your idea,” Dean put his hands around the curves of her waist.

Riley smiled, going weak.

Dean turned around and coughed into the crook of his elbow. He sucked a sharp breath in.

“Hey, you okay?”

Her hand was on his back.

Dean sipped a few more controlled breaths, his chest sending tendrils of fire around his sides to his back where her hand lay. He put a hand out and leaned against the shelf, bracing himself for another cough that was clawing it’s way up. When he started, it honestly felt like he’d never stop.

“Dean?” Riley’s hands were firm, rubbing up and down either side of his spine.

He went down on one knee.

“Dean, honey, breathe…”

Dean finally managed to swallow down over the cough and get an uninterrupted breath, “That sucked,” he muttered.

Her fingers ran up through his hair, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Dean pushed himself back up and Riley helped, grabbing his trembling arm, “No, I’m good.”

“You sure?” She crinkled her brow and Dean reached out a finger to smooth it away.

“Stop worrying. I’m alright.”

“Okay,” she said, gaze curious, “Come back upstairs and sit down for a minute.”

“Yeah, not a bad idea.”

 

…

 

It was a bad idea. A very bad idea. For Dean to be working in a bar right now. He wanted a drink more than anything. If he could just get one drop. One sip without anyone noticing, he’d be golden. He knew he was being watched though. Between Sam and Riley tag teaming he had no chance. His chest was warm, a heat radiating from the inside. It was uncomfortable. He couldn’t get away from it. And coughing only made the damn thing worse.

He was sitting at the bar, watching the others work while he rested from his most recent coughing fit that had taken a lot out of him, when his phone rang.

“Hello,” he answered, trying to muffle another cough in his sleeve.

“Hi, Dean. It’s Dr Reid.”

“Oh, hey, what up, doc?” Dean grumbled.

“I just looked at the report from your chest x-ray this afternoon and I think you should come into the hospital.”

Dean’s heart beat a little faster, “When?”

“Well, tonight. Now, if you could.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need to come in as soon as possible.”

Dean sighed, “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“The effusion hasn’t resolved like I’d hoped. It’s actually gotten worse, to the point where there’s severely decreased lung function.”

“Yeah, and what are you going to do to me?”

“Dean… we should discuss this at the hospital when you get here.”

“No, we can discuss it now.”

He heard Dr Reid sigh on the other end of the phone, “We need to insert a tube in between your ribs to drain off the excess fluid.”

“Forget it,” Dean snapped, feeling his hands start tingling, mind flashing back to the things they’d stuck in him in hell.

“Dean, I know it’s quite invasive but I assure you it’s completely necessary…”

Dean’s hearing turned fuzzy and he could no longer hear Dr Reid. His mind filled with white noise, crippling, debilitating white noise, and then the screams came, and he felt it. He felt the knife being driven into his side, carving through his chest like they were serving up BBQ pork ribs. He felt his lungs fill with blood and it flooded all the way up his throat until he was coughing and spewing blood out his mouth in great pools.

“Dean! Are you there?”

Dean’s chest was heaving, his vision blurring. He was panting into the phone, and he almost dropped it his hands were shaking so much.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean took a few more breaths to calm himself, “I said forget it,” he managed to mutter with his dry tongue.

He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket, shakily finding his way across the room to the men’s room.

Thankfully no one was in there when he got there, and he threw up in the sink. Sweat in his hairline. When he’d finally managed to calm his racing heart, he threw some water on his face and stumbled back out. Sam was watching him as he came back to the bar.

“You okay?” Sam asked, worry etched in his features.

“’Course,” Dean straightened up and plastered on a grin, “Never better.”

 

…

[telltale]

I just commented on this elsewhere, but ahhhhh I LOVE THIS. 

[Wow Really?]

Oh.. wow. The roller coaster of emotion in this chapter is crazy. Awesome but crazy  

All I can say is.. my poor baby.

It's just one thing after another ? 

[MissBayliss]

Chapter Twenty Seven

 

Sam knew something was wrong. Dean was sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a coke that had to be warm by now. He looked hunched, pale and feeble. He was coughing more and more, and it seemed like it was getting harder for him to recover from a fit. He’d come out of the bathroom earlier looking like death warmed over.

“Sam,” Riley called, “Get the lead out.”

Sam went back to serving. Business had picked up in the last hour or so. He tried to sneak glances at his brother every now and again but a crowd of young kids celebrating some sort of event had flooded the place and it was getting longer and longer between visuals.

“Hey, need some help in here!”

Sam’s head shot up. A guy was half hanging out of the men’s room.

“Somebody call an ambulance!”

Sam spilt beer on his hands, the cup in his hand running over.

Sam’s glanced around briefly, looking for Dean. When he caught Riley’s eyes she’d been doing the same thing. Dean wasn’t sitting at the bar anymore.

Sam dropped the glass and it shattered, he jumped the bar and ran towards the men’s room.

“It’s like he can’t breathe or something.”

Sam burst through the door, pushing people out of the way.

“Dean!”

 

…

 

“Sats are 88%, resp rate 34...”

“...BP’s 160/80, heart rate 127.”

“Temp 102.2.”

“I need a salbutamol nebuliser… Dean? It’s Dean, right?”

“Ye-yeah.”

Sammy?

“I’m right here, buddy. I’m right here. You gotta let these guys help you, okay?... Good. That’s good, man. You’re doing great.”

“Let’s get that nebuliser going…”

“Dean, just slow down your breathing.”

“I got a wheeze in the upper lobes and lower right, absent breath sounds on the lower left.”

“He had pneumonia and pleural effusion.”

“…They’re gonna need to prep a chest drain. Call emergency and let ‘em know we’re on our way.”

“No.”

“Dean, hey, calm down.”

“Heart rate 145.”

“I need you to calm down. We’re gonna help you, alright?”

“He’s not calming down. Resp rate 38.”

“Okay, Dean, this is going to sting a little bit…”

 

…

 

Dean felt like his head had been disconnected from his body. He could hear them talking around him, feel the movement, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight back.

“Just, relax, Dean.”

“I need a bolus of propofol.”

“Don’t fight the tube, Dean, it’s helping you breathe.”

“Can someone get restraints?”

“I need someone on this side to hold that arm down.”

Dean drifted in and out, sometimes it felt like only a minute. Sometimes it felt much longer than that. At first there were lots of people around him, lots of talking, a soft voice in his ear occasionally telling him not to bite down on the tube. But despite the voice being soft the grip was strong on his arms, holding them down by his sides. He wondered if he was back in hell. Sometimes they spoke nicely to him then. They spoke so nicely, and those voices cut even deeper.

“You ready with the drain?”

Ohhhhh, god.

He felt the pressure on his ribs, but it didn’t hurt. He couldn’t feel a thing.

 

…

 

Sam sat in the small empty waiting room of the ICU on the edge of his seat, hands clenched tightly in front of him, his fingers turning white. Bobby was across from him, running his hand across his beard nervously back and forth, back and forth.

Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch.

“Would you stop that?” Sam snapped.

Bobby’s expression remained level, but his hand ceased movement.

“He’s gonna be fine, Sam.”

“Stop saying that. Stop saying that everything’s going to be okay. It’s not. Dean’s not okay.”

“You can’t lose hope now, son.”

“Dean has a tube down his throat! He needs a machine to breathe for him!”

“Sam, sit down.”

“And where’s the angels, huh? Where’s Cas in all this?” Sam looked up at the ceiling, “You hear that, Cas! You get your ass down here and fix my brother!”

“Sam,” Bobby was up at his side, hand on his shoulder.

A fluttering of wings.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam spun around, almost ready to swing a punch.

“Fix Dean,” he ordered through clenched teeth.

“Sam, I…”

“Don't, Cas. Just don’t.”

“Sam!” Cas said firmly, “I can’t be here right now. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. Things are… complicated.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Bobby interrupted.

“I will heal your brother.”

“Y-you will?”

“I just need some time… I will return.”

Sam blinked and Cas was gone.

Bobby let out a breath, “Well, he’s one cryptic son of a bitch.”

Sam stumbled back a few steps and let his ass find the seat. He felt like he’d had the breath knocked out of him.

“Did you hear that, Bobby?”

“I heard it, son.”

Sam laughed despite himself, “He said he’d –“

“I know what he said,” Bobby muttered curtly.

Sam looked up at that, “What’s wrong? You don’t believe him?”

“Believe me, I want to. But the way that man skirts around the truth, Sam,” Bobby shook his head, “I ain’t counting chickens before they hatch.”

Sam sighed.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter either way, because we’ll get through it. With or without Cas.”

Sam smiled a little.

“Sam Winchester?”

Sam was standing before he knew it, looking at the young lady in the doorway.

“You can come and see your brother now.”

 

…

 

Dean was unconscious for four days while they resolved the effusion. His lung had partially collapsed by the time they’d got him in. But Sam had been reassured that it had healed okay. He was on strong antibiotics, a combination of a few different ones to try and finally kick this particularly nasty bug, and on his most recent chest xray the pneumonia had almost completely gone. Dr Reid was optimistic, so on the fifth day the tube was removed. It took Dean a few hours to settle down but his breathing seemed to ease. He was getting morphine through his drip so he didn’t complain of any pain, but Sam could see a haunted look in his eyes. There’d been no word from Castiel since he’d promised to heal Dean so Sam kept quiet about it. He wasn’t going to fill his brother with false hope.

Dean shifted in his bed and a look of what Sam could only describe as fear dawned on his face. He swallowed and turned his head towards his brother.

“There’s… something in my side, isn’t there?”

Sam nodded at his brother, “They had to get the fluid out, but it’ll come out tomorrow probably.”

Dean swallowed again.

“You feel sick?” Sam asked.

“… Tired,” Dean muttered, eyes closing.

“Get some rest, dude. I’ll be here.”

 

…

 

Dean let his eyes fall shut. He was numb all over. It wasn’t a nice feeling. He almost missed the pain. That felt normal, at least. He’d been in and out of it for the past day, and he was sick of waking up in a freaking hospital without knowing how he got there. He had tubes everywhere, in his arm, in his neck, in his ribs, and, god forbid, in his penis. At least he could breathe easier. That awful death rattle that he’d had in his lungs for weeks was gone. So he didn’t understand why he felt so awful. It just felt like things were building up, jumping on the pile and he was slowly drowning under the weight of it. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep this up. He was just so damn tired.

 

…

 

Sam watched his brother lie there with his eyes closed, seeing a tear roll out the corner of his eye, carving a line down to the bottom of his ear. He took a deep breath. Dean wasn’t okay. Maybe medically he was now stable, but mentally he was far from it.

Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, thinking it would be Riley or Bobby. It was not.

He got up and crossed the ICU to the door.

“I told you not to call me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Sam. This is important.”

Sam exited and loitered in the hall.

“What do you want, Ruby?”

“Not that you and your invalid brother care, but Lilith broke another seal yesterday… She’s getting closer.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to get off your ass and fight! You’re the only one that can do this, Sam.”

Sam sighed, “Well, I can’t do it alone.”

“And what am I, chopped liver?”

“I mean, I can’t do it without Dean.”

Ruby sighed on the other end, “Look, I’m sorry about Dean. You know I am. But if you had a choice between saving the world and sitting around worrying about your brother, which one do you think Dean would want you to do?”

“Dean doesn’t approve of my… methods.”

“Sam, I know you love your brother, but you need to start making decisions for yourself. I need you to help me stop Lilith… to save the world, okay? If the world ends it won’t matter that your brother’s slightly mad at you, will it? Because everyone will be dead.”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“Truth’s hard.”

Sam rubbed his fingers over his forehead, “Give me a few days here. A week tops. We just gotta get Dean home, okay? I gotta be here for him now.”

“Cool, I’ll just tell Lilith to stop breaking seals until you’ve finished your little vacation.”

*Click*

Sam scrunched his face up angrily, “Dammit,” he whispered.

 

…

 

A/N: That was an intense little chappy! Sorry about that (not sorry).  I can't seem to keep this boy out of hospital. And I'm sorry but I thiiiink this fic is wrapping up... soonish. But as always I am super grateful for all the love and support.  Have a great day. x

[Leafeon78]

This is such a beautifully written fic keep it up.

[Wow Really?]

?????

Loved this!

But Dean is seriously breaking my heart.. 

[Shamaël]

I have not commented on this fic for a very long time, which is unforgivable because it's still amazing! It's great to have Sam and Dean's point of view on what's happening. 

On 25/07/2017 at 1:04 PM, MissBayliss said:

Dean let his eyes fall shut. He was numb all over. It wasn’t a nice feeling. He almost missed the pain. That felt normal, at least. He’d been in and out of it for the past day, and he was sick of waking up in a freaking hospital without knowing how he got there. He had tubes everywhere, in his arm, in his neck, in his ribs, and, god forbid, in his penis. At least he could breathe easier. That awful death rattle that he’d had in his lungs for weeks was gone. So he didn’t understand why he felt so awful. It just felt like things were building up, jumping on the pile and he was slowly drowning under the weight of it. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep this up. He was just so damn tired.

I had to quote this because it's, in my opinion, one of the most accurate psychological description you've written. I love it, it's very realistic and moving and... well... I love it.

On 25/07/2017 at 1:04 PM, MissBayliss said:

I can't seem to keep this boy out of hospital.

What a shame.  I completely understand this.

(Personal update: I have watched the 1st season and I'm in the middle of the 2nd. I must confess that I'm completely hooked. But the strange thing is that, when I read your fics or others, I was sure Dean would be my favorite, but in fact, I'm completely fascinated by Sam, his powers and his fears about them. - And, I must confess, his voice, which is just unbelievable. - However, I loved the 1st episode of the 2nd season, when Dean is at the hospital... Seeing him so vulnerable... Oh my God. Anyway, thank you so much for making me discover the Winchester boys!)

[MissBayliss]

On 26 July 2017 at 10:03 PM, Aliena H. said:

I have not commented on this fic for a very long time, which is unforgivable because it's still amazing! It's great to have Sam and Dean's point of view on what's happening. 

I had to quote this because it's, in my opinion, one of the most accurate psychological description you've written. I love it, it's very realistic and moving and... well... I love it.

What a shame.  I completely understand this.

(Personal update: I have watched the 1st season and I'm in the middle of the 2nd. I must confess that I'm completely hooked. But the strange thing is that, when I read your fics or others, I was sure Dean would be my favorite, but in fact, I'm completely fascinated by Sam, his powers and his fears about them. - And, I must confess, his voice, which is just unbelievable. - However, I loved the 1st episode of the 2nd season, when Dean is at the hospital... Seeing him so vulnerable... Oh my God. Anyway, thank you so much for making me discover the Winchester boys!)

Noooooo, you're not a Dean girl! Ugh, my heart. Haha just kidding  I'm really excited you've started watching. Just know that there are so many different character arcs throughout the 12 seasons, believe me, both boys will interest you more than you can believe at this stage! Dean is my guy because he is so layered and so real. Despite the fact it's a completely supernatural (ha) world, he is SO relatable. And I know their voices are great... but they change. In a big BIG way haha Both of their voices really drop down into their chest as the seasons go on. And Jensen does make his voice harsher for Dean and now I think he's having a little throat trouble because of it.  But anyway, I could talk all day. Dean is such a cutie in Faith. 10/10 would snuggle. Message me about the show anytime you want!   So glad you got into it!!

[MissBayliss]

Chapter Twenty Eight

 

“Who was that?”

Sam nearly dropped the phone as he spun around, coming face to face with Bobby.

“Uh, Riley,” Sam shrugged, “She’s planning on coming by later.”

Bobby stayed silent for a moment, assessing, like he didn’t quite believe him. Sam wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard. He finally spoke, “Well, good. We need all hands on deck here and keep taking it in shifts. Which, by the way, you look awful. Go home and get some sleep.”

Sam shook his head. Yeah, he looked awful because of the lack of sleep and the constant stress, but he also knew part of it was because it had been so long since he’d seen Ruby. So long since his last top up.

“I told Dean I’d stay,” Sam stuffed his phone away and opened the door, allowing Bobby to go in in front of him.

“Dean’s so out of his head right now, I doubt he’d even remember that,” Bobby snorted.

“Well, then I have to stay.”

Bobby sighed and led the way to Dean’s bed.

Dean still had his eyes closed but Sam could tell he wasn’t sleeping. It could have been the way his face looked tense, or how his hands were clenched at his sides. But it was mainly the sound of the monitor alarming as his heart rate shot up past 120 and his breathing quickened to 30 breaths per minute.

Sam made it to him before the nurse did.

“Dean?”

Dean didn’t open his eyes but Sam could see he was scared.

The nurse was at his other side, hand on his shoulder, “Dean, take some deep breaths for me. You’re okay.”

Sam’s hand wrapped around his brother’s closed fist, the other hand a steady weight on his chest.

“Dean,” he said, right by his ear.

They watched his heart rate come down on the monitor as his breathing slowed. Eventually his eyes flickered open, they looked bloodshot, glassy, and heartbreakingly exhausted.

He cleared his throat and licked his lips before he spoke, “Nightmare.”

 

…

 

Dean moved from the ICU to a ward a day later, and four days after that they let him go home. The pneumonia was gone. The fluid in his chest was gone. His lungs were working well again. It was clear Dr Reid had picked one thing off the extensive list and decided to focus on that, on what he could fix. And Sam had heard nothing from Cas, no matter how much he shouted to the heavens.

It was a Wednesday morning when Sam decided he’d had enough. Dean was sleeping in his room, Bobby had gone to assist on a hunt a few towns over and promised he’d be back that night.

Sam wrote on the calendar, knowing Dean would check that.

Work 10am.

He packed his duffle, put on his boots and quietly left the house, pulling his phone out as he did so.

It rang once.

“Sam.”

“Where can I meet you?”

 

…

 

Dean lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He heard Sam’s boots on the wood floor, then the front door open and close, plunging the house into silence. He sighed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table he could see it was just after 9:30. He was sore. And now Sam wasn’t here to get him a painkiller, Bobby either. He sucked in a breath as his back twinged. All this lying around had made things worse. The painkillers were in the kitchen where Sam had left them. All he had on his bedside table was a half drunk bottle of water and a box of valium. Dean stared at them for far too long. Eventually he closed his eyes, tried to do what the shrink had taught him.

“What are ten things you can hear?”

Dean chewed the inside of his lip.

Birds.

A dog bark.

A baby crying.

The rumble of the impala as Sam pulled out down the street.

A garbage truck.

His heart beat…

The ringing in his ears.

The screams.

His scream…

…

Dean pinched the skin on his wrist.

A lawn mower.

Was that ten?

“Close enough,” Dean mumbled out loud.

He sighed again. He was friggen bored. But he was too sore to try and get up. If he made it out to the lounge room then at least he could watch TV, take his mind off things. It was bad when he was alone, left to think about everything. TV would be good. TV would help.

A minute later Dean decided that was too ambitious. He wanted painkillers. Lots of painkillers.

So, he reached over and grabbed the box of valium instead.

 

…

 

“Dean…”

“Hmm,” Dean groaned.

“Dean!”

“Wha’?” he mumbled, wishing the hands would stop poking at him, stop shaking him.

“Geez, how many of these things did you take?”

“Quit it, Bobby…” Dean knocked Bobby away but managed to get his eyes open. He felt like a bus had been dropped on him. Sluggish and weak.

“Boy, I’ve been trying to wake you for a good ten minutes.”

“I took a valium,” Dean slurred, trying to get his tongue to work.

“Yeah, I can see that. Did you take the whole box?” Bobby sounded angry.

“I took a couple…”

Dean watched Bobby go through the box, counting the pills. He let his eyes drift to the window. He furrowed his brow. It was dark outside.

“Wha’ time is it?”

“After 8,” Bobby grunted.

“S’weird…”

Dean relaxed back and let sleep pull him under again.

 

…

 

The next time he woke up he could coordinate his limbs a bit better. But being more awake meant he was more aware of the pain.

“Bobby?” he couldn’t get his voice past a whisper, mouth dry.

It turned out Bobby was closer than he thought.

“Yeah, son?”

“I need a painkiller.”

“Okay, hang on.”

Dean kept his eyes closed. Bobby returned quickly.

“Here, son, you’ll have to sit up a little.”

Bobby, bless him, had brought a straw for his water, and Dean could have kissed him. He lifted his head and Bobby put another pillow under it. Dean took the pill and the water and swallowed, unable to think of anything else until he knew he’d had something to get the pain under control.

“Y’alright?” Bobby asked softly.

Dean nodded, “Where’s Sam?”

“Still at work, I think.”

Dean’s eyes widened, “Still? What time is it?”

“Uh, ten past eleven.”

Dean was struggling upright before his body registered its stiffness.

“Whoa, slow down, boy.”

Dean panted, “Give me my phone.”

 

…

 

"Yello! MacGinley’s Bar and Grill.”

"Get Riley."

"Is'at you Dean?" Jim said loudly over the roar of the jukebox.

"Put Riley on the phone."

"Geez, good to hear from you too," Jim muttered quietly, but loud enough to be heard.

"Riles! Dean for ya."

Dean waiting, gritting his teeth.

"Hey, Dean. What's up, honey?"

"Send Sam home now."

"What?"

"He's been there since 10am, that's longer than 12 hours! If you're gonna run him in to the ground then I don't want him working for you!"

"Jesus, Dean, calm down."

"Sam is exhausted. He's injured. You can't work him like that. I thought you understood our situation. I thought you would -"

"Wow, Dean. Stop. Sam is not even working today."

Dean's heart leapt into his throat.

"I have been nothing but understanding to you and Sam's situation, and I'm giving Sam all the work he can manage because I know you guys need the money."

"Riley..."

"Next time you accuse me of something, Dean, get your facts straight."

*Click*

Dean’s hands were shaking. Oh, god. Where the hell was Sam?

“Bobby,” Dean stared at his phone.

“What is it, boy?”

“Sam didn’t even work today…”

Bobby cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed, then something dawned across his face.

“You know something, don’t you?” Dean directed a finger at the older hunter.

“Sam was… he was working a job,” Bobby pushed his hat back to scratch his head, “At least I think. I found a motel room key in his pocket when I was doing laundry a couple’a weeks back.”

Dean steeled his jaw, cast his eyes skyward, “Son of a bitch.”

“Dean…”

“No,” Dean shook his head and looked back down at his phone, turning the GPS tracker on on Sam’s cell, “Get in the car. You’re driving.”

 

…

 

“What exactly are you planning to do?” Bobby argued from the driver’s seat of his ‘71 Chevelle.

Dean had the phone to his ear again, listening to it ring out on the other end as Sam didn’t answer.

“Shut up,” Dean moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “God, I can’t even think.”

“That’s because you knocked yourself out on 5 valium.”

Dean shook his head, trying to shake loose cobwebs. Yes, it was because he was still whacked from the handful of valium he’d taken, but he didn’t really need to be reminded of that.

“I knew this would happen,” Dean grunted, “We can’t walk away. We can’t ever just walk away.”

Bobby clenched his jaw.

“You know who this smells of?” Dean continued to rant, “That black eyed bitch, Ruby.”

“Well, juries still out on that one. Let’s just find the idjit first.”

Dean rubbed his eyes, digging his fingers in until he saw stars.

“You doing okay there?” Bobby quirked from beside him.

Dean grumbled, “Doin’ the best I can.”

“Yeah, and how are you really doing? This the most you’ve been upright all week.”

Dean looked at the phone in his hand, trying to focus his eyes. His head was pounding and his arms felt like lead weights. His back was a dull ache, but it was manageable. It was the cocktail of prescription pills in his system that was messing with him. He was running on nothing but adrenaline.

Dean cleared his throat and dialled Sam’s number again.

 

…

 

“Where is Lilith?” Sam shouted, tripping holy water onto the bald head of a poor demon’s meat suit. The demon wailing as the water hissed and burned.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t be telling you, Winchester,” the demon cackled, even as it clenched it’s teeth and cried out again as Sam poured some more holy water over it’s bubbling skin.

“Wrong answer,” Sam bit.

“We know you’ve had direct contact with Lilith, alright? Cut the bullshit and tell us what we want to know or things are going to get really ugly,” Ruby rounded the chair the demon was tied to, staying carefully outside of the devil’s trap on the floor.

“Go to hell, Ruby,” the demon spat.

“Been there,” she shrugged, “didn’t really agree with me.”

“You know what you are if you won’t talk?” Sam sneered, “Useless… and you know what I do to demons who are useless? I send their asses straight back to hell.”

“Then you may as well start now, because you’re not getting anything out of me… besides, whatever you could do to me, Lilith can do worse. And that is a wrath I’m not prepared to face.”

Sam stared at Ruby, “This guy is worthless.”

Ruby shrugged, “Well, he’s worth something… Practice.”

 

…

 

“He’s in here,” Dean grunted as Bobby pulled the car up in front of an old beat up warehouse.

It had taken hours to get there and Dean was stiff, pins and needles tingling in his feet. But he pushed his door open and stood up on his own, holding onto the roof for support.

“You good?”

Dean groaned, straightening, “I’m fine. Hand me my gun.”

Bobby slung a duffle over his shoulder, “Do we even know what we’re walking into?”

He handed Dean his sawed off and Colt .45.

“Prepare for anything,” Dean tucked his colt in the back of his pants, pausing for a second as he felt the cold metal against his scar, his muscles rippling beneath it.

He raised the sawed off and waved a hand.

Dean and Bobby did a sweep of the perimeter. Dean hadn’t held a gun like this, for a prolonged time, in a while. His shoulder did not like the position. He rolled his shoulder a few times, gun still raised, his brow permanently furrowed with the pain he was forcing down.

Dean found a door at the back of the building, and waited for Bobby to join him.

Bobby edged the door open.

“… and you know what I do to demons that are useless? I send their asses straight back to hell.”

Dean could hear Sam talking, and the demon screaming. Hearing the sounds of torture almost sent Dean in a downward spiral, flashing back on his time down under.

Bobby’s hand appeared on his shoulder, gripping tightly. It was his bad shoulder and he was kind of grateful, because he needed the jolt of pain to bring him back to reality.

They managed to get into a position where they could see Sam and Ruby, and the demon tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Dean narrowed his eyes as Sam raised his hand, closing his eyes.

The demon started choking, coughing, spitting out black smoke that travelled down towards the floor and disappeared through the floorboards, searing them red.

Dean looked back at his brother as blood dripped from his nose. When it seemed the demon was gone, Sam lowered his hand, letting out a breath.

“Good work, Sam. But you’re going to have to be better than that if we’re going to take on Lilith.”

Dean couldn’t push down the anger anymore.

“Yeah, change of plans,” he said, stepping out, gun trained on Ruby, “Sam’s coming with me.”

“Dean?” Sam gasped, eyes wide in shock.

Dean glared at his brother, “Bobby, check the guy.”

Bobby came out and crouched by the chair, putting his fingers to the man’s carotid, the other hand in front of his mouth.

“He’s dead.”

Dean gritted his teeth.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

“Good day at work?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed, “Put the gun down.”

“No.”

“Feeling a little insecure, Dean?” Ruby quipped.

“Ruby, that’s enough,” Sam warned.

“Yeah, Ruby, that’s enough,” Dean mimicked.

“Dean, stop it.”

Dean snapped, “No, Sam! This is not okay! What you’re doing is not okay. You lied to me. You lied to Bobby. And you’re working with her? Again!?”

“Bite me, Dean,” Ruby snarked.

“You keep flapping your trap I just might.”

“Dean, I…”

“No. That’s it. Give me my keys.”

“Dean –“

“Give me my damn keys!”

Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the impala keys, handing them to Dean.

Dean snatched them away, “Go get in the car.”

“You’re going with them?” Ruby asked, incredulously.

“I’d quit talkin’ if I was you, sweetheart,” Bobby nodded.

“You’re lucky you’re still breathing, bitch,” Dean growled.

“Demons don’t breathe, jackass.”

“One more word,” Dean warned, cocking his shotgun.

Ruby put her hands up in surrender.

“Come on, Dean,” Bobby urged, “Let’s get outta here.”

Dean was fuming. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck. He wanted to shoot Ruby in the face, preferably with the colt, so she’d never get back up again. But he listened to Bobby and left, following Sam.

Bobby nodded to Dean and got into his Chevelle. Dean went to the driver’s side door of the impala.

“Dean, you haven’t driven in weeks. This is a long drive. Maybe you should –“

“Clean the blood off your face and get in the car,” Dean snapped.

Sam wiped his nose on his sleeve, puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Dean wasn’t buying it. He was too mad.

Dean lowered his head as Sam got in the car. He was happy to get behind the wheel of his baby. He just wished the circumstances were different. It was going to be a very long night.

 

…

[Shamaël]

Well, Dean seems to get better... Yet the situation is quite stressful for him (I knew you weren't fgoing to make things easy for him!). What I preferred in this part was the list of the things he hears, this mix between hallucinations/memories and reality... I also like your Bobby, who is really in character (now that I've seen the 5 first seasons, I have a better idea of the characters - and I understand your story much better!). Am I sadistic if I say that I'm almost hoping for a relapse (I have a weakness for relapses)? Poor Dean, I know he's suffered enough, but...  Anyway, I can't wait to read the next part!

On 09/08/2017 at 9:09 AM, MissBayliss said:

Just know that there are so many different character arcs throughout the 12 seasons, believe me, both boys will interest you more than you can believe at this stage!

In fact, it's exactly what's happening to me right now. I still like Sam, but as the show went on, I was more and more interested by Dean. So, I'm not totally a "Dean girl", but... well... I like him more and more. (And, I must confess, I love Castiel. Maybe more than the Winchester brothers.)

[Wow Really?]

Sorry I missed this . Really happy to see that you updated.  I've had a really, really, REALLY bad week.. thanks for helping me get my mind off of things. 

[Leafeon78]

Another brilliant chapter these are really enjoyable to read.

[MissBayliss]

I just wanted to apologise for taking so long to post an update on this fic. I really do feel terrible about taking so long! 

I am at a very stressful, very busy time in my life right now and just trying to find time to breathe and ground myself is really difficult.

I hope (I know) you guys will understand and I appreciate you for that.

Apologies once again. I'll be back when life quiets down again. *sigh* 

Peace and love. 

[Shamaël]

I hope everything is going to get better for you very soon and that the stress will lessen. Don't worry about your story, and don't think you have to update regularly, or quickly. We all have a life outside the forum and sometimes we're busy, and we don't have time for this, or we're not in the mood, and it's absolutely not a problem. I really love your story and of course I'll be glad to read your next chapters, but take your time. It's very kind of you to write this fic for our pleasure, you don't have to hurry and you certainly should not feel guilty! Take care of you first, that's the most important.

(PS: I'm still watching Supernatural and season 8 almost killed me. I mean, with Sam sick half of the time and Dean worrying constantly for him... Yeah, I really enjoyed it.)

[Wow Really?]

We'll be right here waiting. You take all the time you need. ❤️

My life kind of fell apart a little, and I am having to focus on a lot of other things too. So I completely understand. No worries 

[MissBayliss]

Chapter Twenty Nine

 

 

Sam watched Dean shift uncomfortably in his seat, pain and anger lines etched in his brow. Sam should have known this would happen. But things got hairy getting the demon trapped and it had taken longer than he’d hoped. He’d also just completely lost track of time. He was in the zone with Ruby, working his mojo. And he loved it. He was on a high. But then Dean and Bobby showed up and brought reality crashing down on him. Dean was pissed. Rightly so. He’d lied to him. But it was more than just lying to his brother. It was hunting without him. Because he couldn’t. And that’s what would have hit his brother the hardest.

Dean released his left hand from the wheel and brought it to his eyes, rubbing discreetly.

“Dean, I –“

“Shut up.”

Sam swallowed, letting out a breath and looking towards the window.

Dean sighed heavily beside him.

“I need you to grab my pills from the back,” Dean ordered, gruffly.

“Sure,” Sam said, reaching round, “How are you feeling?”

“That wasn’t an invitation to talk.”

Sam steeled his jaw and grabbed the bottle of painkillers, tipping one out and handing it to Dean.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Sam pleaded, seeing his brother’s discomfort and knowing he shouldn’t be operating a vehicle on that medication.

“No,” he bit.

“Dean, listen –“

“Sam,” Dean raised his voice, “Stop. I’m not going over this with you. I just… I honestly don’t have it in me right now,” he said, voice turning soft.

“I’m sorry,” Sam muttered, looking down. He almost didn’t hear his brother’s response.

“You always are.”

 

…

 

Sam kept sweeping glances in his brother’s direction. Dean was looking more and more worn, his eyelids dipping. Sam couldn’t watch it any longer. Before they knew it they’d be wrapped around a tree if they kept this up.

He opened his mouth to say something, to force him to stop and get in the passenger seat instead, but he didn’t get a chance to speak.

There was a brief and forceful sound of fluttering in the back seat and then a gruff, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean was obviously completely zoned out, as Sam suspected. Because he jumped on the break, car fishtailing wildly until he could control it and send it rumbling onto the gravel shoulder.

“Jesus, Cas!” he shouted, slamming a hand into the steering wheel.

Sam uncurled his hand from where it had been clenching the door handle.

“I startled you,” Cas pointed out guiltily.

Dean groaned, dipping his head and rubbing his forehead with his fingers,

“You trying to put me back in the hospital!?” his voice still raised.

“I am sorry. But I heard your call and came as soon as I could.”

Sam’s eyes shot to his brother, unable to control the surprised expression that took over his face.

“I didn’t…” Dean’s eyes met Sam’s briefly, before looking around, not fixing on anything in particular, “I mean I wasn’t… Cas, what the hell, man!”

Cas narrowed his eyes, “You should not be driving right now.”

“Not with angels poppin’ into my back seat and giving me a heart attack,” Dean moaned.

“I apologise for… popping in,” Cas shrugged in his trench coat uncomfortably, “But you needed assistance.”

Dean looked from Sam to Cas, in the rear view, not twisting his body in the seat. He jutted his jaw out in anger and cast his eyes skyward before throwing his door open and stumbling out into the cold night air.

Sam followed, chasing his brother quickly. By the way he was moving he was about to hit the ground any second.

To Sam’s surprise he actually leaned into his brother until he got his legs steady underneath him and then pushed him away.

“Dean…” Cas said, suddenly standing with them.

“I can’t take this, guys,” Dean said, voice shaky with anger and exhaustion, “I mean…” he flapped his arms by his side, eyes tearing up.

“Sit down, Dean,” Sam reached a hand out to him again.

Dean recoiled, hands raised, “Don’t touch me, man. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Sam stepped backwards as if the statement had delivered a physical blow.

Dean directed his gaze back to Cas, “I “needed assistance”?” he repeated, “Cas, man, I needed assistance six months ago! I needed assistance a week ago when I was dying in the ICU! I’ve needed you every freaking day these last few months! I “needed assistance”?” he said again, “Since when has that ever been the criteria for you showing up?”

Cas lowered his head, eyes towards the ground, “It has not been easy.”

“You’re telling me.”

The weak, breathy sound of Dean’s voice sent a wave of panic washing over Sam. Dean wasn’t doing well. And that small, frail sentence made him sound close to either tears or collapse, possibly both.

“Dean,” Sam said, without thinking.

Dean didn’t even look at him, just clenched his jaw, the muscles on the sides of his face protruding.

“Guys, I’m…” A tear slid down Dean’s face and he turned his head away, trying to hide his pain.

Cas frowned, eyes flitting on the ground in front of him like he was thinking, “Dammit,” he whispered, as if he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to.

He stepped closer to Dean, “Dean.”

Dean looked up, eyes meeting his.

“This will only hurt for a moment.”

Cas reached out a hand and placed his two fingers on Dean’s forehead, a brief spark of light coming from beneath them. Dean closed his eyes.

Sam took half a step forward, panic and hope consuming him, but Dean’s eyes opened, and dual tears ran down both cheeks.

“Cas,” Dean stuttered, “Did you just -?”

“Be careful, Dean.”

And like that, he was gone.

Sam was stunned for a moment. Dean’s eyes were red, his face tear stained.

“Did he just heal you?” Sam asked, mouth dry with anxiety.

“Yeah,” Dean said, the word breathless.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked, tentatively putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I, uh, I dunno…”

Dean was still, like he didn’t want to attempt moving in case it was all an illusion.

“Can you, uh, can you,” he pointed to his back, “check the scar?”

“Yeah,” Sam rounded his brother and pulled up his coat and shirt. There was no scar on his back, no sign there ever was. He touched Dean’s skin and he flinched.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled, “It’s gone, Dean… It’s gone.”

Dean let out a strangled breath and Sam didn’t really know what to make of it.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, Sam,” Dean said, anger finding its way back into his voice, “… Get in the car.”

 

…

 

The ride back home was tense. Dean didn’t seem overjoyed about his new body. At first he’d seemed emotional, like the world had been crashing down on him and someone just came and lifted it off, like he would fall, unaccustomed to the lack of weight on his shoulders. But then he was pissed. And Sam was really being stupid if he thought being healed would stop his brother being mad at him for what he’d done. The car ride was spent in silence, even as Sam tried to celebrate Dean’s new health. He was relieved. God, he was relieved. No more pills, no more barely making it down the hallway, no more crutches or canes, no more wincing and groaning and hissing in pain, no more coughing up a lung, no more pale or even yellow skin. Dean was healed.

When they pulled up at the house Dean kept the engine running, barely even pulling over to the curb.

“Get out.”

Sam swallowed, but did as his brother said. He held his door opened and leaned down, “Where are you going to go?”

“To get a drink,” Dean roared, slamming the car into drive.

Sam shut his door just as Dean pulled the car out down the street.

When Sam turned around Bobby was standing on the front porch.

“What the hell happened to you two?”

“Cas healed Dean,” Sam said.

Bobby stared at Sam for a moment, “… Well, shit.”

 

…

 

Dean realised a bar wouldn’t be open this early. First light was showing, fog still hanging just inches above the ground. He hit a 24-hour liquor store and bought a bottle of whiskey.

For a moment Dean just sat in the driver’s seat and relished a gulp of whiskey, straight from the bottle.

He didn’t know what to do. He was healed. He had forgotten how it felt for his back not to hurt. It had hurt for so long. He could walk without a limp, without strain. Getting in and out of the car was easy.

“This… inside me…”

He was healed. But he wasn’t fine.

“I wish I couldn’t feel anything, Sammy…”

Dean tipped the bottle to his mouth, a loose tear slipping free.

“I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing.”

 

...

Edited September 4, 2017 by MissBayliss

[Wow Really?]

Wow, I'm not even sure what to say about this chapter. (In a good way)

Dean's emotional reaction in the car was beautiful and painful.. but then the relief that I felt when Cas healed him (along with the bummed that I felt when Cas healed him 😉 Cuz I'm evil).. only to find that he only was healed of the physical and not the emotional.. was heartbreaking .. 

amazing rollercoaster of emotions.

Love this story.

 

[Shamaël]

You. Are. Awsome. There are no other words. 

On 04/09/2017 at 0:42 PM, MissBayliss said:

Cas narrowed his eyes, “You should not be driving right now.”

“Not with angels poppin’ into my back seat and giving me a heart attack,” Dean moaned.

“I apologise for… popping in,” Cas shrugged in his trench coat uncomfortably, “But you needed assistance.”

That's so perfectly Castiel and Dean! (Now that I know how they interact, I can appreciate moments like that in your fic!)

On 04/09/2017 at 0:42 PM, MissBayliss said:

The weak, breathy sound of Dean’s voice sent a wave of panic washing over Sam. Dean wasn’t doing well. And that small, frail sentence made him sound close to either tears or collapse, possibly both.

Annnnnd here I just started to hyperventilate, just to compensate for Dean's incapacity to breathe correctly. 

On 04/09/2017 at 0:42 PM, MissBayliss said:

“I feel fine, Sam,” Dean said, anger finding its way back into his voice, “… Get in the car.”

Ah, Winchester boys. They never seem to be able to communicate honestly and peacefully, do they?

On 04/09/2017 at 0:42 PM, MissBayliss said:

“I wish I couldn’t feel anything, Sammy…”

Dean tipped the bottle to his mouth, a loose tear slipping free.

“I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing.”

That was at the same time heartbreaking and amazing AND very mean. You can't let Dean (and us poor readers) like that!!!

Anyway, thanks for updating!

[Elyze]

OMG, I just finished a marathon read of Taking Some Time and this one. This was intense! I've read a bunch of SPN fics before, but this was quite a bit more serious. Amazing writing! I spent some time in between chapters looking at YouTube videos of Dean and Sam to get a better visual image of them. Not enough though, I definitely think I'll have to start watching the series! But right now I'm gonna go read something soft and fluffy 

[MissBayliss]

On 5 September 2017 at 4:38 PM, Wow Really? said:

Wow, I'm not even sure what to say about this chapter. (In a good way)

Dean's emotional reaction in the car was beautiful and painful.. but then the relief that I felt when Cas healed him (along with the bummed that I felt when Cas healed him 😉 Cuz I'm evil).. only to find that he only was healed of the physical and not the emotional.. was heartbreaking .. 

amazing rollercoaster of emotions.

Love this story.

 

Hehe I'm glad you enjoyed it and have enjoyed the ride so far. Always love reading your comments  

On 6 September 2017 at 4:19 AM, Aliena H. said:

You. Are. Awsome. There are no other words. 

That's so perfectly Castiel and Dean! (Now that I know how they interact, I can appreciate moments like that in your fic!)

Annnnnd here I just started to hyperventilate, just to compensate for Dean's incapacity to breathe correctly. 

Ah, Winchester boys. They never seem to be able to communicate honestly and peacefully, do they?

That was at the same time heartbreaking and amazing AND very mean. You can't let Dean (and us poor readers) like that!!!

Anyway, thanks for updating!

Yay!! I knew you'd love the show and I'm so glad you think I keep the boys in character (that's the main thing I really work hard to accomplish, so I'm glad it translates). 

I love your comments and I'm so glad you've liked everything so far  

On 7 September 2017 at 7:01 AM, helyzelle said:

OMG, I just finished a marathon read of Taking Some Time and this one. This was intense! I've read a bunch of SPN fics before, but this was quite a bit more serious. Amazing writing! I spent some time in between chapters looking at YouTube videos of Dean and Sam to get a better visual image of them. Not enough though, I definitely think I'll have to start watching the series! But right now I'm gonna go read something soft and fluffy 

Oh my goodness! You're a gem! Thank you so much! (Definitely get onto the show  Just ask Aliena!  I can be quite persuasive ) So glad you read both and enjoyed it. I do write some fluffy light stuff, and actually love to do a bit of comedy too, but this one is the serious saga! I hope you keep reading! Thanks for the comment  

 

 

 

Just wanted to let everyone know that this little baby will wrap up in Chapter 31 (because I like that number), and after that there will be a brief epilogue. Thanks everyone for the support and for reading this, along with Taking Some Time. I appreciate every single one of you. 

 

Much love,

Bayliss  

[MissBayliss]

Chapter Thirty

 

“Dean?” Riley stood in the doorway, wearing athletic gear like she’d just been working out or was planning to. The sun was hitting her in all the right places and it was all Dean could do not to rip her clothes off with his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Riles… Listen, I’m sorry for snapping at you on the phone last night.”

Riley furrowed her brow, assessing him, “You look different.”

“Better?” Dean smirked.

“Yeah,” she said, sounding confused.

“Well, I am… better, I mean.”

She scrunched her face up, “What? Over night?”

“I can’t explain it.”

“There’re a lot of things you can’t explain.”

“I know,” Dean muttered, looking down.

“You been drinking?” she asked, popping her hip and leaning against the doorframe, still not letting him in.

Dean cleared his throat, knew Riley was too smart to lie to, “Yeah.”

“You drunk?”

“No.”

“Dean,” she moaned in a way that was so Sam-like.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “Really. I’m okay.”

She pursed her lips and muttered, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I’d like to come inside. If that’s alright.”

She looked at him for a moment, “Sure.”

 

…

 

Dean lay on his back next to Riley, hand resting on his stomach, allowing his breath to return to a normal rhythm. Riley was propped up on an elbow staring at him with a smirk and a curious look on her face.

“What?” Dean smiled.

“You just look so good,” she laughed, running the back of her hand across the scruff on his chin.

“Did I really look that bad?”

Riley’s smile dropped a little, “Yeah, you did.”

Dean sighed, still smirking.

“What happened to you, Dean? I didn’t think we’d be able to…” she quirked her head, “for a while. You’ve been so sick, you only just got out of hospital. And your back. I didn’t think you could do… that at all.”

Dean clenched through his teeth. He couldn’t explain this away. He couldn’t tell her anything without telling her everything. And he’d made the wrong call with girls in the past and would not allow that to happen again. Not just for his own pride and selfish ego, but for her sake. She was safer not knowing.

“I’ve just… got some really good drugs now,” he huffed a laugh.

She shook her head lightly, “No, that’s not it,” she called him out, “Something is really different about you.”

“Riley…” Dean started.

“It’s okay. I’ll never push you, Dean. I don’t need to know everything about you.”

Dean’s smile was gone, “You wouldn’t want to.”

“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t need to know everything about you to know the person that you are. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. Because I know you.”

Dean shook his head, “No, you don’t.”

Riley smiled, “I know you’re a good guy, Dean. A good guy that’s been through a damn lot. So, you don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to open up if you don’t want to. I’ll be here. Whatever happens… I’ll be here.”

Dean had to blink hard to control the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. He had never intended what this was with Riley to go so far. All it started out as was a bit of fun, something to take his mind off things. Then it became about feeling someone, being touched, a desperate need for human comfort and acceptance. He’d leaned on her more than once. And it had been fun. Still was fun. Now more than ever. But he couldn’t keep doing this. They had to get out of town quickly, burn it all to the ground. He was healed, and that meant everything was back on, and the apocalypse wasn’t going to stop itself.

“Sam and I are leaving town,” Dean said, matter-of-factly.

To Dean’s surprise, Riley just smiled, “I know,” she said, resolutely.

Dean furrowed his brow, confused.

“The way you look isn’t the only thing different about you,” she smirked, “And I kind of always got the impression this was… temporary.”

“I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” Dean muttered, looking at the ceiling.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Takes two to tango or, you know, have hard core sex.”

Dean laughed, then shook his head gently, “I don’t mean that. I mean the… other stuff.”

Riley’s smiled faded, “I know you do… but don’t tell me you regret that. Not completely. Because I sure don’t.”

Dean rolled towards her, taking her face in his hand and kissing her soft lips, “If things were different…” he trailed off.

“Don’t give me something to hope for, Dean,” Riley said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for doing what you have to.”

 

…

 

Once Sam had spoken to Riley and confirmed Dean was there he relaxed a bit, relieved that he was in good hands and not black out drunk in a gutter somewhere.

“Sam.”

Bobby was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, staring at him.

“You gonna tell me what’s going through that fool head of yours?”

Sam chewed the inside of his lip, shook his head briefly, “Cas told me he couldn’t cure Dean, not fully anyway. The physical stuff, yeah, but… Dean’s been to hell, Bobby. His, uh, it’s his soul. Cas can’t heal his soul.”

Bobby stayed silent, letting Sam get it out.

“I’m starting to think that, no matter what happens, I won’t ever get my brother back.”

Sam clenched his jaw, feeling the emotion bubble up, tears forming in his eyes, and he looked down.

Sam felt Bobby step closer, “Your brother has been right here this whole time.”

Sam looked up at him.

“Sure, it might take him a while to start crackin’ wise ass jokes and being a general pain in the ass, but he’s still your brother. He’s back from war, son.”

Sam nodded, solemnly, “I know, I just…”

“You just nothing, Sam. We stick through it, together, that’s what we always do. And Dean might never be the same, but that’s life. Crap happens.”

Sam huffed out a laugh, rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“I suppose Dean’s gonna wanna hit the road.”

“What else?” Bobby shrugged.

“Cas healed Dean. The angels, they’re gonna want to use him again. And Lilith is still out there.”

“Yeah, and you know all too well about that, don’t ya, Sam?”

Sam sighed, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry for working with Ruby but I had to do something.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t do “something”. I’m saying you shouldn’t do that. But it’s your brother that’s going to tear you a new one for that so I’ll lay off for now.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.”

Sam looked down again, guilt and shame hitting him like a freight train.

Bobby put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, reassuring him that he was there. No matter what. Always would be.

“So, should I start packing?” Bobby muttered, smirking.

Sam looked up with a strained smile on his face, “Well, we should probably work out how to get rid of the Devil’s Trap on the living room floor.”

 

…

 

“Dean…”

Dean thrashed against his binds, but every turn, every tug in any direction, caused searing pain to lance up his side. He was hot, skin burning, sweat running off him, into his eyes. Stinging. He felt the bone is his arm snap, and cried out, trying to curl in on himself to protect the broken limb but he was fixed in place, and it hurt too much to try and move.

“Dean.”

“Please, stop… please,” he begged, voice weak and crackling, desperate.

He felt the other arm snap and cried out. Knives were being driven into his side, blood dripping on his face that wasn’t his blood.

He bucked again, against the shackles, against the hooks and the ropes…

“Dean!”

Dean’s eyes flew open and he grabbed the shoulders of the person leaning over him, throwing them back against wall and holding them there.

“Dean, it’s me. Please. It was just a dream.”

Dean’s breathing was sawing in and out, chest heaving, brow furrowed in anger. He was working on fight or flight. Fight.

“Dean…”

He blinked. Oh God.

He let Riley go and she sunk back onto the bed.

She’d been trying to wake him from his nightmare and he’d grabbed her, swinging her around and holding her against the headboard until he could remember where he was.

His hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.

She rubbed her shoulder where he’d grabbed her, “It’s okay.”

“I, uh,” Dean wiped the sweat off his forehead with his palm, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s fine,” she whispered, “Are you okay?”

Dean hunched over on the edge of the bed, facing away from her, his hands gripping the mattress, “Yeah, give me a sec,” his eyes tracked all over the room as he tried to make sense of things.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he tried, and failed, not to flinch.

“It was a dream, honey,” she said near his ear, “Come back to me.”

Dean closed his eyes, feeling sweat trickle down his temple.

“I should go,” he muttered, mouth dry.

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t –“ Dean’s voice broke, “I’m not going to put you in danger.”

“Dean, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.”

Dean gave a wry smile, “Next time I might… So, I, uh… I need to go.”

 

…

 

 Sam heard the rumble of the Impala and the squeak of the garage door that signalled Dean’s return. He’d been at Riley’s most of the day. It was getting on for 5pm. He heard Dean’s heavy steps pound up the stairs and the door opened. Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter, pretending he wasn’t waiting for him.

“Hey,” he said as Dean walked it.

Dean glanced at Sam then back down, “Hey, Sammy.”

Sam furrowed his brow, “You okay?”

Dean looked worn, edgy, and a bit sweaty actually.

“Yeah… I’m beat,” he sighed, honestly, rubbing his fingers across his brow, “I think I’m gonna hit it. After that…”

Bobby came down the hall and stood there, looking at Dean expectantly.

Dean nodded a Bobby, then glanced back at Sam, “We can’t stay here.”

Sam looked down, “I know.”

Bobby took a step forward, “Dean, can we pump the brakes for two seconds here? Cas healed you, son. We should be celebratin’.”

When Dean’s head rose his eyes were glassy, “Yeah, it… it feels good.”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

Dean pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down. He shook his head slightly, “Cas told me he couldn’t fix everything… I don’t know why I…” Dean trailed off.

“Hey,” Sam went to his brother’s side, put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sam,” Dean voice was a soft, painful whisper.

Sam pulled his brother against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He felt Dean grip the back of his shirt, and shudder against him as he cried silently.

Bobby was there, close now, his hand on Dean’s shoulder. And the three of them just stood there together, like a house of cards, only standing because they leaned on each other.

 

…

 

One Chapter to go...