Still don't sue me and all that. Thanks for the reviews and such. I didn't know where this was going for a while…and still sort of don't. Not sure where the end is. I have an idea that I want to do something else…Sam and Dean came off pretty easy if this is nearing the end. Easy is something that doesn't happen, so that leads me to think that something else should happen. Any help would be appreciated, thanks.
Sam was somewhere dark and cold. In nearing consciousness, he was aware of something heavy holding him down. His first thought was to fight, but he didn't have the strength and he couldn't wake up enough to do something about it. His arms and legs felt heavy and cold, like they were filled with ice.
Bobby saw him stir and move a little under the layers of blankets. He folded back a few layers as Sam moved more.
"Sam? You gonna come back to us?" Bobby muttered. "I know your brother'd be grateful."
Sam struggled against the weight on his arms and chest. His breath came a little quicker as the signal to panic reached his brain.
"…no, let me go…" He tried to free his arms from the imagined grasp.
Bobby rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Easy, just take it easy, Sam."
Sam's eyes flew open, the panic and fear evident in his dark gaze. He fought against Bobby's grip. He didn't recognize the man as the trusted family friend he was.
"Sam. You're gonna hurt yourself. Calm down."
Slowly Sam calmed down enough to see that it was Bobby at his side, though he didn't know why. The information that it was Bobby and not Dean keeping the bedside vigil could only mean that something had happened to Dean.
"Where's Dean?" Sam tried to sit up, but he was too weak. "What happened to him, where is he?"
Bobby smiled. "He's asleep, down the hall. Stayed up all night with you."
"Why?" A shiver ran through Sam, he couldn't get warm. "What happened?"
"What do you recall?"
Sam moved himself up on the pillows some. "Looking for the spirit at that antiques store. Dean took the building and I went outside. Found the bones under some rocks." He shrugged. "I remember it was cold."
Bobby poured a mug of hot water from a thermos and steeped a bag of tea in it. "You burned the bones, but something must of got to you and Dean said he found you passed out in the snow. Said you were there for a while." He noticed how Sam's face paled as the events were retold. "Anything to add?"
Sam didn't answer other than lowering his gaze from Bobby's.
"Are your hands still enough to hold this?"
Sam nodded. Bobby handed him the mug. Sam's hands shook, but not so much that he couldn't take a few slow sips.
"Drink it all." Bobby stood. "I'll let Dean know you're awake."
Bobby walked out of the room. Sam kept drinking the tea and hoped that it would warm the chills from him. Dean appeared in the doorway. His shirt was wrinkled from sleep and he looked half awake at best. A half smile appeared on Dean's face when he saw his little brother awake.
He took Bobby's chair and leaned forward. "Tried to cut out on me?"
Sam set the mug on the table. "As hard as I try, I can't get rid of you." He smiled a little.
"Well, don't try too hard."
"Seriously?" Sam lifted an eyebrow. "I think you're verging on a moment here. You need a hug?"
"Shove it, ass hole." Dean couldn't help but smirk.
Despite being unconscious for most of the past twelve hours, Sam was getting tired. Dean knew that, but he wasn't quite ready to let Sam go yet. He needed some answers and he wasn't about to wait for them any longer. Patience wasn't one of Dean's strongest virtues.
"Level with me, Sammy."
"It's Sam." He sighed and pulled the blankets up as he shivered.
"What'd that spirit have on you?"
"Nothing." He looked away. "Dean, I'm kinda tired."
"No. I'm not letting this drop."
Sam met Dean's eyes for a moment. "Nothing that the demon before didn't do. Add that to the limited sleep I got, and it gave him an edge."
"We're going to have this out, I'm not letting this drop."
Sam nodded slightly. He knew that once Dean got a hold of something, he wouldn't let it drop. Sam just wasn't looking forward to that moment. He didn't want Dean to know that every time he closed his eyes to sleep, he saw Dean crumpling under a gunshot and blood pouring from him, and all of it being Sam's fault. It wasn't only that Dean was killed, but that it was Sam behind the gun and he had no other choice.
"Get some rest, you look like crap." Dean smirked again.
Sam shrugged. "You're one to talk."
Bobby leaned on the doorframe. "Dean, catch a few more hours. I know you could use it."
"You stayed up all night, too." Dean shot back.
"I slept yesterday. Did you?"
Dean couldn't answer because Bobby was right and everyone knew it. He stood and looked at Sam.
"Looks like I'm outnumbered." Dean shrugged and left the room.
Bobby took the chair Dean vacated. He looked at Sam for a few moments. Sam slid down under the blankets and drew his knees up.
"You still cold?"
Bobby took Sam's temperature. He met Sam's eyes for a moment. "Almost normal."
Sam nodded as he started to fall asleep again. Bobby let him go and Sam briefly thought about fighting sleep for fear of dreams, but sleep was faster than his fear.
Just as Sam suspected, he ended up back in the basement with Dean. Sam held the gun, Dean stood in front of him. This time, Dean's eyes weren't blacked with demon possession. He was afraid, but trying not to let it show.
"Sammy." He pleaded.
Sam smiled and backed Dean against the wall. Dean held his hands up in surrender.
"We all reach the end of the line, Dean." Sam's smile didn't reach his cold eyes. "Time to get off the train."
Sam slowly raised the gun and pressed it in the middle of Dean's chest.
"Sam, this isn't you." Dean was down to his last options. "I know you, and you wouldn't do this."
"You never knew me as well as you thought you did." Sam cocked the gun. "Never knew what was going on inside my head. Always assumed that I worshipped the ground you walked on."
"How very wrong you are."
Dean gasped in pain. It wasn't a kill shot, Sam made sure of that. Sam took aim again, over Dean's heart.
"Any last words?"
Dean met Sam's eyes. "This doesn't change a thing. You're still my little brother and I'd still lay my life down for you."
Sam cocked the gun. "Good." He smiled and fired.
Dean slid down the wall. Blood bubbled from his lips and his eyes were dull with death.
Sam woke with his heart pounding, his shirt and hair soaked with sweat. Bobby was at his side, his hand on Sam's shoulder.
"…Sam, you're all right. Sam."
It took him a few seconds to realize that Bobby was trying to calm him down. He stopped fighting against Bobby's hands on his shoulders and fell limp and exhausted into the pillow. Sam shook and felt sick from the images of the dream that refused to leave his thoughts.
"What happened, Sam?"
Sam glanced up at Bobby and took a slow breath. "Just a bad dream."
"Things that shouldn't be in my head." Sam muttered.
Bobby rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Go on and tell me."
Sam still shook from the dream and he didn't know if he was ready to think of the details again.
"Sam." Bobby's tone was a little harder.
Sam shrugged. "Just the one where I kill Dean."
Sam looked up and saw Dean in the doorway with his arms across his chest and concern breaking through the neutral expression he tried to have.
Bobby turned and saw Dean. "Thought you were out."
"I woke up." He kept his eyes on his brother. "Heard you yell down the hall."
"It's time to confront this, son." Bobby said as Dean came over and sat at the end of the bed.
Sam looked from his brother to Bobby and back again. He took a slow breath and confessed as much of the dream as he could remember. He hated the attention and the concern, but was too tired to fight against both Dean and Bobby. It was easier to surrender and sometimes that is what had to happen.