Title: Soul of My Soul
Characters: Sam and Dean
Rating: PG-13 (Gen/Angst)
Disclaimer: Sadly, no ownership here.
Summary: What do you do when your brother's soul is missing? Sam is without his soul, and Dean is on a mission - to keep his baby brother safe, and human, until he can get this big mess figured out.
I'll find a Way; to get Sam out of Hell
Sam looked drawn and pale. A saline IV was attached to his arm and an oxygen tube hooked under his nose to help with the pain of his headache. His eyes were closed, but Dean knew he wasn't really asleep, just knocked out by a cocktail of heavy drugs the doctor had given him for the pain.
Dean sighed and looked at his medically unconscious little brother. It had been a rough twenty four hours, the hunt for the Rip-a-roo more than they'd both bargained for.
"He's fine Dean," Bobby's voice said almost softly from across the room.
Dean's head rose, green eyes full of hope and despair all at once. "He's not fine Bobby," he whispered.
Bobby half smiled, half frowned, he understood exactly how Dean felt. This Sam was different, calculating, risky, and full of attitude and drive. It was just creepy.
"He's not really Sam, not without his soul." Dean said sadly. "He doesn't feel anything anymore Bobby, does everything because he thinks it's what he's supposed to do. Because he thinks it's what I want him to do."
Dean pushed up from the chair and paced anxiously around the tiny hospital room. "It just sucks." he muttered more to himself than to Bobby. He felt warm tears prickling in the corner of his eye and he immediately faced the window and stifled a shuttering gasp of air. Holy shit, don't lose it in front of Bobby. He didn't want to fall apart. Sam needed him.
Bobby chewed his lower lip. He watched the eldest Winchester face the window, watched his shoulders shudder quietly from behind. He knew Dean was loosing it, he could tell by the tremor in his words. It broke his heart to see the boy like this. He wanted to help, but he hadn't had any luck finding anything about extracting souls from hell. Go figure, got every damn demon book there is and nothing in one of them about souls stuck in the box. It really pissed him off. Obviously it wasn't an easy trick to do, this getting a soul out of the confines of hell. Just the thought of Sam's gentle soul stuck in the box with Lucifer made shivers run up and down his spine. The things the kid must be enduring. If it bothered him like this, he couldn't even imagine what it was doing to Dean. He blew out a weary breath and watched his young friend trying to pull himself together. Okay time for me to suck it up and be here for Dean.
"Hey, you want some coffee," Bobby said as he stood up from the crappy seat they called a chair his stiff joints popping with the motion. Hospitals! He rolled his eyes.
Dean turned, eyes shining, and looked silently across at him.
"Come one man, Sam's going to be out of it for a couple more hours."
Dean looked hesitantly from Sam's lax face to Bobby. His face showing exactly what he felt. Maybe I should stay, just in case he wakes up.
"Dean," the older man said steadfastly, "He's out; doctor said he isn't waking up till morning. Come on, we need some coffee, something to eat."
Dean moved up to stand next to the bed and pulled a shaky hand up to push Sam's long bangs off his face. It still looks like my Sammy. His hand rested there just a second or two taking comfort in the motion he'd done when Sam was small.
Bobby acted like he didn't notice. Dean seldom showed his real feelings around anyone, but he didn't have to hide them around Bobby, Bobby already knew how Dean felt about his little brother. Bobby smiled. Sam is Dean's entire world. End of story, always had been, and always would be.
The senior hunter shuffled toward the door attempting not to look at Dean. Give him a minute to compose himself. "Hey, you coming or what?" he asked over his shoulder his eyes still looking downcast toward the floor.
Dean nodded his head slightly and moved away from Sam. He gave his brother one last look before he followed Bobby out the door.
The tiny diner across the street from the hospital was open all night, the smell of breakfast wafting through the door as Bobby pushed them open. It wasn't crowded, just a few weary looking people that all looked tired and haggard. Probably all kin to sick ones in the hospital, Bobby thought. He held the door open for Dean and watched the worn-out Winchester shuffle inside from the chilly evening air.
"Over there," Bobby pointed to a booth in the corner.
Dean nodded and moved stiffly toward the table as the aches and pains from the last hunt made them selves known. He slid silently into the booth. He was freaking beat, both mentally and physically. His head still ached from his meeting with the freaking giant Easter bunny. Was that just the day before?
Bobby flipped both the coffee cups resting on the table over and grabbed up the sticky plastic menu from it perch. His eyes glanced briefly down at the usual restaurant fare. He plopped the menu back down to the tabletop and eyed the elderly waitress that now stood beside the booth.
"Black coffee for us both, please." He watched as she filled up their coffee cups. He looked across the booth at Dean.
"I'm not hungry," the sandy haired hunter muttered.
Bobby frowned. "We'll both have eggs, bacon, and toast." He said without hesitation. "Tough, you're eating." He said to Dean.
The motherly looking waitress smiled at Bobby. She nodded in agreement and then walked hastily back toward the kitchen.
They sat in silence, both sipping on the poor excuse for coffee.
Bobby didn't know what Dean was mulling over, but anytime the oldest Winchester boy was this quiet, he had something on his mind. Never a good thing, the senior hunter thought. He sipped on his coffee pondering a way to breach the subject of Sam without his soul. It worried him greatly that Dean was going to attempt something really stupid, just to get Sam back his soul. And while he hated it, he knew it was inevitable, he just hoped it wouldn't be the end of both his boys.
The waitress returned and sat two plates of food in front of them. "Need anything else," she asked.
Dean just stared down at his coffee.
Bobby shook his head, "No, thanks, this looks great."
The waitress smiled back at him. "If you need anything sugar, you just let me know."
Dean's head rose at that. Is she flirting with Bobby? He looked across the table.
Bobby's eyebrows quirked up in amusement a small grin curling to his lips.
Dean chuckled and reached to grab his fork. Guess I'm eating after all.
Bobby tore the toast in half and sopped it in the runny eggs. "So, this getting Sam's soul back," He asked through a mouth of toast, "You talked to Cas anymore about it, can he do anything?"
Dean swallowed down his piece of bacon and looked sadly across Bobby. "No, and he said getting Sam's soul back could be catastrophic," He said with a frown, "for Sam."
Bobby took a sip of his coffee. "Catastrophic, how?"
"He said Sam's been Lucifers play toy for over a year, said Sam's mind might not be intact." Dean looked about to cry as he pushed the plate away and slumped down lower in the seat.
Bobby's face furrowed. That was not what he wanted to hear. "So, what does that mean, we just freaking leave Sam there, let the kid we know be dead?"
Dean's head darted up. "Hell no," he voiced heatedly. "I'm not leaving my baby brother in some box to rot, not Sam, I can't and I won't." He flung his bunched up napkin down against the sticky counter top.
"Dean," Bobby's voice rose, "that's not what I meant."
Dean heaved out a shaky breath. Calm down, calm down, Bobby didn't mean anything. He loves Sammy too. He drug one hand across his face and dropped it down against the table. He swallowed and attempted to reel back in his emotions. Sam dead, no way was death getting his claws in Sam again. He'd lived through that already in Cold Oak, not again. Death could kiss his freaking ass.
"Dean, I want to get him out too," Bobby said with deep concern, "We'll figure it out."
Dean just stared off into the distance his mind a million miles away. Death, huh, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all. If Death could put you in a hole, then he could surely pull Sam out?
Bobby watched curiously as the look on Dean's face went from erratic to completely in control. What the hell? Kid's up to something. "Dean?" he said inquisitively.
"Hey Bobby," Dean's eyes sparked as he shoved another piece of bacon past his lips and stuffing in eggs and toast like there was not tomorrow. "What's the name of that doctor guy that Dad used to go to get stitched up all the time? You know the one that I hated because he always squished my face."
"What?" Bobby laughed at the memory. Dean was right, the guy was a real face squishier – good doctor though. The senior hunter looked confused. "Hell, I don't remember. Guess his names in your Dad's journal, why?" Where is Dean freaking going with this?
"Just wanted to call him up, see how he's doing these days." Dean pushed to stand up from the booth. "I'll find it myself." He said smugly. "I'm going back to set with Sam, you finish your coffee old man." With that he turned and left Bobby sitting in the booth.
Bobby's face furrowed and he chewed his lower lip. He watched Dean walk away. He didn't like this, not one little bit. Dean was up to something and he knew it wasn't good.
Awe- I tied this one up nicely I believe. We all know what Dean did - now don't we? Thanks for reading and reviewing! - Denise