AN: So sorry it took so long, I was having a hard time with this chapter, just can't seem to get it to where I want it to be. But enough mulling over it. Thanks macs ace for the beta, you're wonderful.
The steady beat followed by the constant drip was, in a strange way, soothing to the older brother. Its constant rhythm providing the only stability in Dean's shattered life.
The thoughts of what had happened to Sam left him wide eyed at night, afraid to close his shaking lids, to see the sewer, and his beaten brother all over again. Dean could sometimes feel himself slip back into those memories as he sat by Sam's bedside, could feel his grip on reality loosen as he tumbled down the dark passageway, always landing, dart in hand, in front of his bruised and bleeding brother.
"Throw the dart Dean" Davy's sadistic voice had become second nature in Deans head. It didn't matter how many times Dean tried to silence the voice it always came to shatter his ear drums. He didn't need to be sleeping to see the dark sewer, to smell the musty air and the sour smell of blood that filled it, Sam's blood.
The memories so fresh, so vivid, Dean had a hard time deciphering between reality and his dream world. It was only the rhythmic drip and the constant beep of the machines that broke through his nightmare grounding him back in reality. Back to where Sam lay in his drug induced slumber, his body being violated by the numerous machines, but at least it wasn't Davy.
It had been five days since they came to the small town, three days since their lives were turned upside down by the psychotic killer, and 17 hours since Sam had come out of surgery, breathing tube in, his chest steadily rising and falling.
Dean couldn't help the silent tears that fell once he was finally able to be beside his brother again. Forced to sit in a wheelchair, his feet red and raw, ordered to stay off of them as much as he could for at least a week. He didn't care; all he cared about was Sam.
The doctor had come through on numerous occasions; Dean had listened but couldn't seem to wrap his head around all of the medical jargon. Instead letting his father deal with all of the technical medical crap. All he needed to know was that Sam was going to be okay, at least physically okay. No one would be able to tell what Sam was going to be like once he woke up.
"Come on little brother." Dean begged, his hand firmly clasped around Sam's much smaller hand. "Its time to wake up."
Not even a flutter of an eyelid as Sam lay in the small hospital bed, the dark bruising that marred his figure standing out against the stark white of the bed. The IV dripped, thundering through the room, and the heart rate monitor beeped its shrill sound leaving an everlasting impression on the older boy. "I know you're scared little brother, but it's over."
Still nothing, as time continued to drift and Sam remained in his dream world, lost where Dean couldn't follow, and that bothered him more than anything. Not being able to help Sam when he needed it.
The older boy could feel his father's presence in the room, but it brought him no comfort, not even the great John Winchester could help Sam right now.
Dean's head fell to rest against his folded arms, his eyes shut tight, his fathers hand coming to rest on his shoulder as his body shook with tears that he was embarrassed to show. "He'll be alright son." John tried to comfort, but Dean knew the truth, nothing would ever be all right, Sam was hurt, and he couldn't save him.
The musty smell invaded his nostrils like the plague, turning his stomach instantly, shivers running through his body. Quaking with fear he dared to open his eyes. His face going flush as his heart sped up, his hands and feet shackled once again, he screamed, but nothing came out. He could taste the copper in his mouth, his throat growing raw as he tried to scream over and over. No sound bouncing off his vocal cords, his voice failing him when he needed it the most.
He stopped the pointless torture on his voice, attempting to gain control over his rising panic, his fathers training trying to bring stability to the situation. Taking deep breaths, slowly gathering his wits he tried to speak softly, "Dean…" he finally managed a whisper.
Calling out to the one person who could make this better, the one person he could always count on, even if he didn't want the help. "Help, please." He begged, keeping the tears at bay as he struggled.
Pulling at his hands he could feel the flesh on his wrists begin to tear, pain igniting down his arms, his sheer will to escape pushing him on. The slow flow of blood soon followed the pain, traveling down his arm and dripping onto his naked torso. Trying to move his body out of the way of the dripping blood, his world was quickly crumbling as more blood made its way down. Throwing his hunting skills out the window as the raw panic of the situation became too much to handle, Dean wasn't there, wasn't coming for him. "D-de-dean" His breath coming in rapid pants, thrashing around, looking for his brother.
"Easy Sammy" a slimy hand reached around, stroking his face, leaving its mark on his pale skin.
Sam struggled harder, "no, no no, please no." his entire body was on fire as the hand continued to trace, leaving its mark on his exposed skin.
"No what Sammy?" the man asked, his face finally invading Sam's vision, his grotesque figure having been cleaned of its skin, his right arm missing. Sam tried to look away, but it didn't matter where he turned his head, the man was always there, smiling at him as his skinless hand stroked the younger mans face.
"Please, please, don't, Dean, I need Dean."
"Dean couldn't help you when you were in the sewer, what makes you think he can help you now?" The man howled in amusement, his teeth falling to the floor with each loud snort of laughter.
"No…" Sam tried to find his composure, looking the man in the face – or what was left of it-trying to figure out what was going on. "This can't be real, you son of a bitch, you're dead, Dean said you were and he may not have been able to rip you apart, but he doesn't lie." Sam spit, daring the man to say otherwise.
"Well I hate to break it to ya kid, people like me, we never die." The man laughed as he struck Sam across the face.
The younger mans head snapped hard, he knew this had to be a dream but it still hurt, the sting resonating in his flesh.
"Now, now, don't get your panties in a twist, I have a surprise for you Sammy." The man said, grabbing Sam's chin, turning his face to look at the open spot in the sewer, the place where Dean would –should- have been. "Surprise!"
Sam watched as his brother walked in to the small room, a smile on his face, sitting in the seat that was set out for him. "Hey little brother." Dean said with a smile that sent shivers down Sam's spine.
"No, don't you touch him." Sam growled, as the man walked over to his brother, smile on his face.
"What? Like this?"
Sam watched in horror as Dean sat there, not moving as the knife came down. His older brothers insides spilling to the floor, and Sam screamed.
He had fallen asleep, his hands gone numb from his head resting against them, the salt from his tears leaving their trail down his cheeks. He listened for the soft hum, and beeps that let him know that Sam was still there, was still fighting.
Something was different though, something was wrong. The soft heartbeat on the monitor was anything but soft, as it beeped rapidly shrieking its alarm over his little brothers heart rate. Dean looked at his brother, all sleep erased from his hazel eyes as he saw the struggle Sam was in. His little brother stuck in an obvious nightmare, hands and arms twitching ever so slightly.
"Easy Sammy, easy." Dean tried to soothe, hoping it wasn't falling on deaf ears. Getting up he cupped the sides of Sam's face; it was something he had done ever since Sam was a kid. It was the easiest way to wake Sam, to make sure Dean was the first thing Sam saw when he finally woke from his nightmare. On more than one occasion his touch was all that was needed to calm Sam, not even having to wake him.
"Come on Sammy, you're okay." He tried once more, looking at the eyelids that fluttered, his breath catching as Sam's eyes snapped open. His joy short lived as he saw the fear and panic in Sam's eyes, struggling against the breathing tube, his body bucking up, trying to fight not only the tube but also Dean who was over top of him.
"Help, someone help!" Dean yelled, his eyes frantic as he did the only thing he knew how to do, he talked to his brother, begging for him to calm down.
It had been three days since Sam woke, fear in his eyes, and pain coursing through his body. Dean had tried to get his little brother to open up, to talk about what had happened. But Sam remembered nothing, he remembered going down to the sewer, being knocked out and shackled, but after that… nothing. He couldn't even remember Davy's name, couldn't remember what he looked like, what he had done. His mind having shut off all thoughts and memories of what happened in the sewer, locking them away… hopefully forever.
It had taken a while for Dean to look at Sam on a regular basis, his face still swollen, but at least he could see again. The bruises were still fresh, purple and red marring Sam's face and body, little tinges of yellow starting to form around the edges.
All in all Sam had been lucky in terms of scarring, any scars that he had gotten were hidden by his clothes. His face would heal, and go back to normal, but Dean would always remember how Sam looked, his maimed body forever burning an image in Dean's mind, singeing the older brother's world with a cruel reality of what he had let happen to his brother.
Sam may have forgotten, but Dean never would, the fresh memories had already begun to haunt the older brother on a regular basis, but he always pushed them aside. Sam was his main concern and he couldn't focus on Sam if all he could think about was what had happened.
"Sam, I snuck in some real food." Dean said, food was always his peace offering to open up for conversation.
"Thanks, you shouldn't be on your feet." Sam replied, turning to meet the older boys gaze. He could see the hurt and pain in Deans eyes, could see the hidden torture that lurked in the depths of his brothers mind. It bugged him to know that his brother was hurting so much. But in all honesty he couldn't remember why his brother was hurting.
Sam didn't remember much of what had happened in the sewer, his mind subconsciously blocking the memories of what had happened, it was probably for the best. He did however remember the parts of the dream; remember the sewer, and being shackled, Dean's insides on the floor. But his mind was jumbled, the random pieces from his dream floated aimlessly around, making him shiver and shake at the thought of Dean.
"So when do I get the hell out of here?" he asked. His voice weaker than he wanted it to be, he knew he had been through a lot, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend any unnecessary time in the hospital, the sooner he got out the better.
"The doc said to give you a few more days in the hospital, just to keep an eye on you and then you have 3 weeks of bed rest and an additional 3 weeks of no strenuous activity." Dean replied, taking a large bite out of his burger, not waiting to finish chewing before taking a long gulp of his pop.
"Holy shit" Sam muttered, his food laying in front of him, his stomach growling in anticipation, but he just couldn't bring himself to reach forward and begin to eat.
"Well you need it Sammy, we all need it. Maybe we'll go somewhere nice." Dean said, his eyebrows quirked up, "Maybe some Florida action, a little beach time for Sammy?"
Sam just laughed, "Right, so would that be for me, or for you?"
Dean gaffed at the comment, "It would be for you Sam, how could you… okay so maybe it would be for both." He finally admitted, smile on his face, "But it would be nice, just a little break." Dean said, looking lost in his memories; Sam wasn't sure which memories because they had never been on a vacation before.
"I'll tell dad." Dean said, returning from wherever he had just been, taking another big bite of his burger along with some fries.
"He won't go for it." Sam said lightly, not wanting to ruin whatever memory or thought Dean was having, but it was true, it didn't matter what they had just been through, John Winchester didn't take breaks and he sure as hell didn't take vacations.
Dean just shrugged his shoulders, "Then it'll just be me and you."
The younger brother smiled at the thought of vacationing with just his older brother, "Yeah, I would like that." He replied, following his brothers suit and taking a bite out of his burger, a much smaller bite, the swelling in his face making it difficult to do much.
"Yeah, well we'll wait for you to get a little prettier there Samantha." Dean laughed, enjoying the moment with his brother, finally feeling the last few days start to drain from his body. Noting that he should probably go and buy a gift for the gator that saved his little brother.
AN: Well I hope you enjoyed it, I'm thinking one more chapter and its finished. I'm trying to keep a time line for the next two stories I will be posting, and I am trying really hard to stick to it haha so there won't be waits like this story had waits between chapters. But ya, let me know what you think and thanks for reading : )