Sorry that it's been so long since my last update of this story. It just took longer than expected. I had to finish school and then busyness with the holidays. But, now that all of that is out of the way for a while, I should be able to update more often. Again, sorry for the delay.
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
The sight that greeted Bobby made him stop in his tracks. Dean was sitting on the floor, allowing Caleb to hold onto him for a moment. He knew it was the healing that Dean needed, and so he slowed down a lot. Dean had lost control, because he was hurting, and he had lashed out in that pain. Hopefully, whatever Caleb had said would break through that hurt and make him see what he was doing out of hurt.
Quietly, he cleared his throat to get their attention, and they both looked up. Dean quickly scooted away from the older man, and wiped his sleeve over his eyes. He needed to appear tough, and not be coddled like a woman. That was more of Sammy's area. "What's wrong, Bobby?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if the man was still angry with him.
"Sam's asking for you." Bobby said, and watched as Dean quickly brought himself to his feet, not caring about the moment he had just shared with Caleb. "Now, wait a minute. You be gentle with him, you hear? Do not upset him, and do not hurt him in any way again. I will have security remove you." He knew that the boys needed to be together, to work things out, and those puppy eyes that Sammy could pull off so well mostly made the decision for him. He still needed to make sure that Dean knew where he stood, though, so that what had happened in the junkyard would not happen again.
"Yeah, no problem," Dean promised, voice barely audible, still not meeting Bobby' eyes. His shoulders hung low, and he shivered slightly with the horror of what he had done. Together, they went through the doors that led back to where Sam was, quietly.
Dean was apprehensive. He saw his baby brother laying on the bed, wrapped up in blankets and staring off into space. His wrist was held closely to his body and he had chosen a protective stance. For the briefest of moments, Dean hesitated to go in there. He had hurt his brother. His brother was traumatized and injured because of something that he had done, and the guilt almost stopped him where he stood. Sam's eyes were half open, but it was clear he couldn't see anything. "Dean?" The voice was quiet, but his brother had called for him. Without a second thought, he went through the door and to his brother's side.
His feet shuffled a little as he moved, wondering how much Sammy could see, how well he was able to make out the shape of the things around him. He kept his eyes on his brother, and Sam sighed, looking directly at him.
Sam waited, listening to the sounds around him. Everything was still a blur, but he struggled to make things clearer out of self-preservation. All he could hear was the beeping from machines, the sound of footsteps moving past and typing on the computer at the nurses station. His mind was a lot clearer now, but the pain in his wrist, which had been a quiet ache, was becoming a major problem. He felt vulnerable, stripped of the protection that he needed to fend off any kind of enemy.
Standing out from all of the other noises, he heard the one noise that was blessed to him, the slow cadence of Dean's footsteps. He made no sound, but Sam knew, like he always knew, the sound his brother made when he walked.
It was kind of a shuffling, like he was too lazy to pick up his feet, and it soothed him. He knew that after what happened, that it shouldn't. He should have been afraid. He knew his brother was responsible, even if he continued to tell people that it wasn't his fault, that his brother was possessed. In some ways, it was easier to depend on that, to make himself believe that this was the yellow-eyed demon's fault and none of their own. After all, if it wasn't for that bastard, they wouldn't be dealing with the death of their father, and Dean wouldn't have been hurting that much. He took a few deep breaths, continuing the internal struggle of whether he should be afraid or not, and then heard the footsteps stop. Dean was just standing a little bit outside of his door, probably looking at him, by the shape of the figure, and debating if he should come in or not. Making the decision for his brother, Sam spoke up "Dean?"
Dean was still shuffling his feet a little, and Sam waited patiently. His brother's hand came down by the side of his head and he flinched unconsciously. He shook himself, willing his body to stop flinching, to allow his only remaining family to care for him. "I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong." Dean's voice was off, too soft and too teary for Sam to feel that things were okay. It frightened him some, and the fact that all he could see were shapes and that those shapes were going to hinder him if his brother decided to strike out again didn't help. Dean's body was blocking out the light, making everything dark, and he couldn't tell where anything was.
His breath started coming out in harsh gasps, and he was shaking. "Dean?" He asked, panic lacing his voice. "Please..."
"It's okay. It's okay, Sammy. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. It's okay." Dean begged, seeing the panic attack coming and trying to stop it. Pretty soon the doctors were going to come, and he would be cut off again from Sam.
"What's wrong, Dean?" Sam asked, voice high and tight in fear.
"...Sammy, what I...what do mean, what's wrong? All of this is wrong!" Dean was taken off guard by his baby brother's question. He felt himself start to tear up, and he reached out again, needing the contact. This time, Sam didn't flinch, mostly because Dean had finally moved out of the light, and he knew that the hand was coming.
"I shouldn't have..." Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
"Shh, you did nothing wrong. It'll be okay, Sammy, but I need to deal with this, with my anger, before I can be trusted again. We need to be apart for a while." Dean said, taking into account what Caleb had told him.
"No, I need you to be here. I can't take care of...I can't see anything, and I can't...defend myself right now. I need you right now, Dean, and I think something's wrong with my wrist. I can't defend myself. You need to stand guard, please! I'm sorry, but I need–" Sam was begging, voice coming too quickly and his breathing hitching once more.
"I'll be here, and Caleb and Bobby will be here." Dean quickly reassured him.
Sam nodded, dropping his own eyes. Dean shuffled his feet a little, and then looked around for a chair. A thought struck him, and he looked up at Sam. "How did you know it was me, in the hallway?"
Sam laughed softly, but it was a soft kind that never really reached his eyes. "I always know it's you." Dean nodded, accepting it as truth. He could tell when Sam was sleeping, when he was faking sleep, and when he was about to have a nightmare, so it made sense that Sam knew him just as well.
Dean gently ran his hand through the long locks of Sam's hair, and Sam closed his eyes for a second. It was several seconds, with Sam going from relaxed to clearly distressed, and Dean moved to care for him. "Sam?"
"Dean, can you go ask the doctor to give me more pain killers? My wrist, it really hurts." Sam had held the pain in for as long as he could, so that he could make amends with his brother, but now that everything was okay with him, the pain became and even bigger problem and demanded his attention.
Dean turned around to go get help, and was greeted with the sight of both Bobby and Caleb. Bobby turned and went to go find the doctor, and Caleb came to stand on the other side of Sam's bed. When he got close, Sam flinched again, and moved away. "Who is it? Who's there?" He was getting panicked again, and Dean realized the mistake. Sam couldn't see, and he may have known Dean, but Caleb was nowhere near as close to him as Dean.
"Relax. Relax, Sammy. It's just Caleb." Dean soothed, and Caleb could have kicked himself. He knew the boy was traumatized and at least partially blind and him sneaking up without announcing it probably scared the crap out of him.
"It's okay, kiddo. It's just me." Caleb said, stepping back for a minute before Sammy acknowledged him. When Sam nodded, and looked back down, Caleb came back and laid one hand gently on his arm.
"How long were you guys standing there?" Dean inquired.
"Long enough to know that you make a better chick flick than any Bette Midler movie I've seen...um, heard about. We were standing back a bit. Don't worry, whatever you told each other is still between the two of you. You're just going to have to regain some of Bobby's trust, is all." Caleb explained, even though it had been his idea to go make sure that Dean was playing nice with the younger man. He just didn't want it to get out that he cared about the boys. Jim was the only one who had seen him hold a toddler version of Sammy in his arms and cuddle him to his chest when he was sick with pneumonia as a child.
Bobby came back then, with Sam's doctor, and they were all cleared out so that he could see what the problem was, and fix Sam's pain medications.
Hope you liked the chapter. I know, it was kind of sappy, but remember what they just went through. Feel free to leave any kind of comment, whether it be constructive criticism, praise, or any questions.