Oh the finale! What a cliffy! I couldn't get this idea out of my head so I had to write it down after I watched it.
Summary: It's Dean's first night back from Hell, there's a storm and he can't sleep. What else can a grown man do except climb into his little brother's bed?
By the way, HOW he is brought back is meant to remain mysterious although there are one or two hints. I figured there would be lots of fics about how he is saved you see.
Sam had been without Dean for about a month, and not once had he slept. Whenever he closed his eyes he heard Dean's desperate screams for help, and Sam told Bobby he couldn't be sure whether he was imagining them or not. Bobby had been terrified that Sam would die, losing one of the boys was utterly heart breaking, but with both gone Bobby would not have been able to go on. Sam didn't eat either, he didn't bother to refuse or answer Bobby's questions about food. It was as if even thinking about looking after himself was out of the question, he just ignored his health. Dean was dead, and Sam was on earth. They had both surely been in Hell.
Hunts were not even discussed.
Sam had cried on and off for roughly a week, and Bobby had cried with Sam when he would let the man near him. He was distraught, and any human contact made him long for Dean even more. After a week Sam became like an empty shell and Bobby was forced to take action for the both of them and checked him into a hospital. Sam's health improved a little, but his mental health caught the attention of the doctors. Sam didn't like this. When Bobby went back home one day to change his clothes -he had been staying at the hospital non stop playing the role of Sam's father- just as he opened the front door to leave again, he found Sam staring right back at him. His eyes were vacant.
"No more hospitals, Bobby."
It was the first sentence he had said since Dean had died.
Around the third week came the anger. Sam was a big guy, and combined with his furious spells it caused trouble. It was frightening for Bobby to watch, but it showed him that Sam was still alive and kicking -literally. It was around this time that Sam talked more. He talked about the deal, Dean and Lilith. If possible, Sam's speech was far more vicious than any action his blind rage forced him to take.
And then one day, Sam was no longer blind with rage, but blind with pure determination and defiance against the world. This caused him to take the biggest actions he had ever done in his entire life.
That following day, Dean was back.
Thunder clapped mightily and a sheet of lightening purified the dark night sky, causing Dean Winchester to flinch once again. Eyes open wide, he listening to the drumming rain and the forces of nature clash above the motel room. Yes, this was nature and this was earth. And Sam was here.
So why couldn't he sleep?
Dean lay in bed on his back, scrunching up the cover with his hands as he looked up at the pitch black ceiling. It made him shudder and he rolled his eyes at his own expense. What, now he was scared of a damn ceiling? The thunder roared suddenly and this time Dean flinched so much the bed shook, he even released a small grunt with surprise. He sighed and shut his eyes. Memories of Hell met his vision and he snapped them open again.
How was he ever going to sleep?
Turning his head to the left, he saw his brother fast asleep in bed –albeit he stirred a little at Dean's quiet yell. Dean wasn't bitter towards how well Sam was sleeping, he looked exhausted. Dean couldn't imagine what he must have gone through without him, or for how long even. No one was exactly keeping him updated on the time in Hell.
Dean frowned and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. They hadn't really spoken. Dean didn't think speaking had been necessary when they were first reunited. The hug from both sides spoke volumes, along with the small nods exchanged. Dean hadn't done much else with Bobby either. They'd both watched his quiet manner with worried expressions. Deep down Dean was worried himself but about his brother. Sam looked thin and his skin was far too pale. He could barely keep on the road he was so tired and kept shaking seemingly from shock but one look into his eyes and Dean knew he was looking at his brother. He was still Sam. Not a demon.
Thunder and lightening raged, and Dean exhaled shakily. He kept telling himself to suck it up, he wasn't in Hell anymore but his body didn't seem to listen. It began to shake uncontrollably and Dean curled his hands into fists, angry with himself.
He remembered the cold.
You're not there anymore.
Memories of the pain flowed through his body like a ghost.
Sam saved you.
Fear enveloped his heart, making it thud faster and faster.
It's only a storm.
Sweat ran down his face, but his teeth were chattering.
Don't you dare scream or you'll wake Sammy.
His breathing came out in long gasps.
Face up to it!
Throwing back the thin cover Dean hopped to his feet silently. He rushed to the door and slipped out of it and into the night.
It was already cold outside, but for Dean who was only in shorts and one of Sam's t-shirts –that was too big for him- it made his skin go numb. The rain beat him hard and sent chills down his spine, he looked up at the sky and the water blurred his vision, spattering onto his face and running through his hair. He held out his arms wide and yelled to the sky over the thunder.
Lightening lit the dark sky like a beacon, and the thunder growled threateningly.
"Try and hurt me now you son of a bitches!" Dean screeched, throwing his arms up.
The rain poured. There were no demons, there was no eternity. The storm would end and Dean could go back into the motel room and rest. It finally hit him.
I'm not in Hell anymore.
Dean slowly lowered his arms, taking in huge gulps of air, still looking up at the glory of the night. Minutes passed, and then he began to laugh hysterically.
The door was shut quickly so that little cold air was let in, but at the same time carefully and softly in order to let Sam sleep on. Dean slowly trudged through the dark room and back over to his bed, he looked down at the unwelcoming crinkled bed sheets. He then looked over to Sam, who was turned facing him, fast asleep and tangled up in his cover.
He stood there briefly, pondering.
Then without a second thought Dean walked over to Sam's bed and pulled back the cover from Sam's grasp. Sam's eyes snapped open at the sudden moment. He squinted and moved his head up.
"Dean?" He slurred quietly.
"Move over." Dean said gruffly. Not that he gave Sam a choice; he was already half way in. Sam squirmed back to make room, not awake enough to consider the situation. Dean stretched the cover over him, but offered more back to Sam when his brother didn't pull it back. Edging further in, Dean felt the warmth of the bed and the knowledge that his brother was beside him fill him with a quiet and unspoken relief. He closed his eyes, the thoughts of Hell no longer coming to mind.
"Dean…" Sam said again.
Dean didn't bother to open his eyes, and just shushed him.
"You're all wet." Sam commented sleepily.
"Go to sleep, Sam." Dean whispered.
Sam blinked his eyes shut slowly. He sighed softly.
"I really missed you."
Dean opened his eyes for a few seconds, scanning his brother silently. A small smile tweaked at his lips and he shut his eyes again.
Please tell me what you think!
I can't wait for season four now, can you?!