Hello all! If anyone else is in a part of the world where winter won't seem to release its icy claws from the lands, I think you will most appreciate this coming of spring story. Plus, a little old school brotherly angst never hurts... well maybe just a little! :P Enjoy!
P.S. Don't own them...
It's the first warm spring night, peepers are singing loudly in celebration of the melted ice, crickets are joining the harmonious choir in rejoice and the breeze carries the scent of the first spring rain since the sun melted the snows and flooded the streams.
And maybe that's what makes the pain a little more tolerable.
The harsh winters bite is healing, the rumble of thunder is brewing deep in the evening, but still the air is warm and the breeze smooth. It's all Sam can think about to distract himself from the burning agony in his leg.
"Come on, Sammy…. Just a little bit further…." Dean grunts as he practically carries Sam back to the Impala.
Sam manages a chuckle, gimping next to his brother, pale as the rising moon as blood constantly seeps from the slices in his right leg.
"Dean, two miles isn't a little bit when we're gimping at this pace." He croaks dryly, wishing the rain would start so he could quench his thirst.
The sunset burns ginger and scarlet, the skies fading to shades of turquoise and lavenders until the rays hit dark clouds of deep violet, indigo and grey. They cast dark shadows over the deep forest, young, soft green leaves quivering against the gentle wind as it picks up with the growing storm.
Every fiber of Sam's being is in anguish, sweat drenches his clothes as every muscle besides those torn from the angry claws of a Black Dog fights to carry him closer to their shining black steed. He feels the hot blood trickle down in crimson streams against chilled, damp flesh.
Dean has managed to get out unscathed, a polar opposite picture of his brother with blushed cheeks and seemingly endless strength. Sam's left arm is draped over his brother's neck, desperately clinging to him for support. Dean has his right arm slipped under his brother and around his back as he tries to bare Sam's pain, as he always has, as he always will.
A rumble makes Dean look up, bright jade eyes searching the endless skies for some kind of sympathy, but all he sees are the angry electric strikes flash from cloud to cloud in a dangerous game of tag. The breeze has turned to a strong wind that has Deans coat flapping in the wind, Sam's hair dancing about in an unruly mess beside that which sticks to his pale, sweat soaked skin.
Sam's lying to Dean. He's cracking a joke and pulling himself along, but really on the inside he's about to give. He feels like he's about to break, like his entire being is about to crumble into a million pieces. He knows he can't think that way, but it's so damn hard when his body feels like lead and the act of breathing is like pulling in water.
Dean can tell something is very wrong. Maybe it's that older brother thing, or that uncanny ability he seems to have on picking up on Sam's very thoughts, but he knows something is not right. It's an ache in his gut that suddenly squirms, warns him that things are bad, and he's learned to never ignore it.
"Remember when we were kids-" Dean huffed, trying to talk through his hard breathing.
"and Dad was on a hunt in Montana, we were cooped up in that cabin for days when-"
Dean glances at his brother and notices how swollen and heavy his eyes are getting, he pulls him closer and gives him a nudge, Sam forcing open his eyes as he pulls in a deep breath.
"we decided to sneak out into the park that went on forever behind the damn thing and-"
Sam chuckled, a cough suddenly seizing him as he did, "-and you got us lost?"
Dean gave a small grin, biting his lip as his mouth twisted upward and he felt the burn in his arm of the weight of his brother.
"Didn't get us lost… took us the scenic route…."
Sam felt himself slipping away, he wasn't dumb, he knew he had lost a lot of blood and he knew it wouldn't be long before he passed out. He felt the nausea long ago, the chilly sweat dripped down his spine and he was starting to get cold…
"But, we found that huge ledge… damn thing must have been a half mile… straight drop. Sheer rock cliff with a valley below… but we could see miles and miles away that a storm was coming." Dean was talking louder now, the wind now beginning to gust, grey darkness creeping around them as the sky above began to cloud over, like angry Gods looming over them with livid eyes.
"And we sat there… for hours watching as it grew nearer, coolest damn thing I've ever seen."
Sam swallowed hard as he felt his body going numb, but as the scent of rain filled his nose he clung to that image of the Montana storm, black clouds moving quick, like dancers in dark gowns and smooth tux's in the endless skies. Bolts of electricity jumping from lover to lover as the dance grew furious and passionate, the rumble of thunder drumming in his eardrums as the pouring of rain drew closer.
Sam could feel himself on that ledge now, gusts of wind smelling of field grass and new leaves, laced with clean rain as the storm hurtled closer to him. The valley below like waves on the ocean, rolling with ease as the winds swept the ancient, endless fields. Forests that spotted the mountains, creaking and groaning as young saplings and old oaks fought to stand against the tides.
Dean was still talking, but he couldn't hear him. All he heard was the rush of the wind, such a strong updraft as he stood on that ledge he swore he could jump off and fly. He would just fly away from it all, from the pain, from the misery that strangled his life like a snake with a mouse. A rumble of thunder, so exhilarating yet so calming reminded him of the pounding heart in his chest, so ready to get away from it all. Just one little step, one little step and he could be away from it all…
"SAM!" Dean yelled as his brother began to slump to the ground, dead weight against his already aching body. The elder hunter looked to his baby brothers face, so white against the darkness brewing around them, slicked with sweat and blotted with old blood.
"Damn it, come on Sammy!" Dean pulled at his brother, but it was no use.
Panic seized Dean, he knew Sam had been losing a lot of blood, he just hadn't realized how much. He had a little less than a quarter mile to go, he knew what he had to do. Setting his brother softly on the ground, Dean kneeled beside him and shifted his brother over him, carrying his brother how his father had taught him to carry the wounded, how the Army had taught John.
Dean groaned as he stood, the dead weight on his shoulders no small burden, but nothing could hold him down as he was determined to get him to the Impala. Sam's head hung limply over Dean's shoulder, the black stained jeans dripping a ruby liquid as the eldest Winchester made it back to the car, step by agonizing step.
The wind was a full gusting force now, the trees furiously swaying overhead as Dean felt the first large drop hit his skin. A cool relief to his burning body, he trudged on as it steadily began to fall all around him. The pitter patter of liquid drops not calming his fried, hot nerves as he finally caught sight of a shadow in the almost dark forest. The shadow of a car he had come to know as home.
Dean quickened his pace, almost running now, every muscle on absolute fire and ready to give he reached the passenger door. He struggled to open it, and then carefully slid his brother into the seat, pure physical relief flooding him as the dead weight was released. But his mind was frantic, his brother was unconscious, had lost a lot of blood, and he had a storm to get through on his way to the hospital.
Dean looked to the skies above as he roared the car to life, lightning flashed and the rain began to pour down….
Sam was flying. He really was… in and out of that storm, untouchable by the lightning but being carried by the gusting winds. He head the soft rumbling of thunder, it vibrated through his very being like a warm lullaby.
He smiled as the breeze fluttered his hair, caressed his skin and whispered its secrets softly in his ear. He looked at the earth below, endless fields and trees, so small from up here, but so beautiful in their own ways. The mountains jutted out, rocky terrain like ancient bones protruding from trampled soil, snowy white caps reaching eternally for the heavens above.
Sam wanted to go higher, get above the storm and watch it all play out in front of his eyes as it had for millions of years, as it would until this earth seized to be. He looked up and felt himself being pushed, further and further through the dark clouds until rays of bright sunlight met his eyes. And still he climbed, watching the storm below like rippling velvet with webs of electric currents as it galloped like a wild stallion over the earth, renewing the life below with its waters and killing the old and dying with its fiery strikes.
Suddenly there was no wind. Sam realized he was so high, that he had reached a place with not a hint of a breeze. Dead silence. Fear gripped his heart tight and suddenly he was falling.
His stomach dropped out and he clamored for something, nothing was there but thin air. He was diving headfirst for the storm, the wind was rushing now but he had suddenly lost his ability to fly. He screamed as the clouds hurried toward him, he felt the electricity in the air, felt the surging power of the storm as he neared it. He saw the webs of lightning suddenly seem to come to life, joining as one huge bolt, one quivering streak of electricity dashing straight for his chest.
Sam saw it coming, and he screamed…
"CLEAR!" The doctor yelled as he sent another jolt of electricity through the young Winchesters chest.
He looked with anxious dark eyes and flared nostrils to the monitor, the flat line mocking him, before suddenly jumping to life.
"Okay people, we got a heartbeat…"
Dean watched the darkness outside with quiet eyes as the rain pitter pattered softly against the sightless landscape. He could always lie with his eyes, quiet and soft as they were, every muscle was tense and rigid, ready at any minute to bolt to his brothers side. But Dean was a trained man, not a muscle was moving, it was only his silent breaths and slowly watching eyes. The beeping of his brother's heartbeat was all he needed to hear.
Dean swallowed hard and chanced a look at Sam. The poor kid was beat to hell, a bit of color back since the blood transfusion, but the big ugly cast on his leg a reminder to Dean of yet another failure on his part. Always his fault, his job to watch out for Sammy, he never seemed to be quick enough… never seemed to be there when he needed to be.
He looked to the window again, glad he had pulled back the damn hospital blinds to reveal the darkness outside, he found it oddly comforting…
He watched for a long time as the clear liquid hit the glass, the little streams of water making their way down to the ground, down to the grass and the dirt where they belonged, to water the lands. Like spider webs they spread over the glass, leaving large and small drops here and there. An occasional light hitting them, making them glow, allowing them to shine with the beauty they held.
The shadowed room seemed to shift and Dean looked back to the bed, his baby brother opening swollen, red eyes and greeting the world with a sigh. With a quick, smooth movement Dean was out of the chair and by his little brother's side in an instant.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, dude." Dean chuckled, covering his anxious nerves with humor as he always did.
Sam looked up, brow knit in confusion, so many questions and so much pain pooled in those hazel eyes but he paused, seeming to listen for a moment.
"S'it raining?" Sam asked in a dry whisper.
Dean quirked an eyebrow, but with a look to the dark window he saw the little rivers branch out in watery droplets that he knew went with the drum of rain that was softly playing around him.
Before Dean could reply though, Sam gave a small smile and closed his eyes as sleep beckoned him once again. With a soft sigh he listened to the storm outside and let it wash over him as he faded back into a deep sleep.
Dean gave a small smile and felt the unfamiliar burning against the brim of his eyes, tears that he would never let his baby brother see. Pulling his seat close, he let the tears fall as the rain continued to gently rush, and the storm faded away into the night…