Who's afraid of the dark?
Title: Who's afraid of the dark?
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It should have been just another birthday, but it wasn't. When Sam disappears mysteriously, John, Dean and Bobby team up to start a desperate search for him. Meanwhile, Sam wakes up in a strange, cold room, where no one talks to him, although he knows he's being watched. He's just a boy, and when things go terribly wrong, can Dean help him survive the darkness that creeps through his skin and nestles in his bones? This is a story of great darkness and pain, but also of great love and comfort.
Warnings and A/N: Top!Dean, bottom!Sam, not for the faint of heart, graphic violence/torture and maybe more. Read at your own risk. Wee!cest, pre-series. Hurt/Comfort, protective Dean.
Previous chapters
Chapter 22
Sam was quiet during the trip to Bobby’s home. He looked out of the window, from the Impala’s backseat, and listened to the classic rock songs playing on the radio. It felt all too familiar, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to relax. It was like every minute he was wary, afraid they might bring up the topic of his kidnapping and start asking questions he didn’t want to answer.
Dean looked at him every now and then, with the corner of his eye, and that made Sam able to relax a little. Dean didn’t look at him with a demanding question in his eyes, there was only silent patience in his look, and Sam needed that, he was drawn to that.
His body felt better than it had in weeks. There was no throbbing, no burning sensation. The pain only came if he tried to move, or if he drew a deeper breath - then his ribcage would protest and cause him to wince. The rest of his injuries didn’t seem so bad.
They arrived at Bobby’s place in the early afternoon. As soon as he was out of the Impala, Sam stared at the familiar salvage yard. Looking at those wrecked cars, it was impossible not to think of how many times Dean and he used to play hide and seek in there when they were kids.
Sam began to feel glad for the idea of coming to Bobby’s place. He had good memories of being there, and he hoped they would help him feel normal again.
“C’mon guys,” Bobby invited them in, opening the front door. “It’s the usual mess, but I know you won’t mind.”
They followed Bobby into the living room where bookcases decorated the walls, carrying tons of old books. Sam limped a little and walked with evident difficulty. He tried hard not to show how much it hurt moving because he could feel the way his father looked at him, studying his reactions carefully. Sam ignored the looks and kept going, fighting the more persistent wounds and following the group when they walked into the kitchen.
“I’m hungry,” Dean said. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Dean…” John frowned.
“It’s true, though. We’ve only had breakfast.”
Usually, Sam would have cracked a joke about how his brother was always hungry, but right now Sam just listened to them in silence.
“I’m sure I have plenty of canned goods, but no gourmet meal to feed you lot.”
“We don’t need a gourmet meal,” John reassured his friend.
“Although, we could do with a pizza, don’t you think we deserve it?” Dean looked into his father’s eyes. Canned food was fine for hunters, but after everything they had been through, he thought Sam could do with something better. Besides, he still needed to put on the weight he had lost, and eating canned food was not the way.
John understood what Dean told him with his eyes, and nodded in agreement.
“Tell you what, I’ll drive to town and get us plenty of good food then. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Do you want me to come?” Bobby asked him.
“Stay with the boys,” John said. “I won’t be long.”
Bobby nodded and they watched as John turned around to leave. They heard the Impala’s engine running when Bobby was leading them upstairs.
Sam fell behind. Bobby went first, then Dean, and Sam went up the stairs after them. They had already slept over Bobby’s many times, but it still amazed Sam how big and beautiful the old hunter’s house was on the second story. Bobby always kept it neat, although he spent most of his time downstairs.
As they walked, Bobby opened the windows to let the sun in.
“Here’s the big bedroom. There’s a bathroom inside too. You’ll be sleeping here, Sam.”
Sam looked at the large double bed and then looked worriedly at Bobby. That was his bedroom. Bobby didn’t have to give him his own bedroom. Sam shook his head quickly.
“What? Don’t you like it?”
Sam looked thoughtful and unwilling to speak. Dean tried to help him.
“I think he doesn’t want to be in your room, Bobby,” he said, and Sam nodded gratefully.
“Bullshit,” Bobby said quickly. “This is the most comfortable bedroom, and the bathroom is really near, so if you need to use it during the night you won’t have to walk a lot with those injuries you got.”
Sam lowered his eyes to the floor. He was thankful for Bobby’s concern, but again, he didn’t find it in him to say anything. He felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly, and felt a little better within his silence.
“I’ll be sleeping in the bedroom you guys usually share when you come here,” Bobby explained. “Now here,” he motioned for them to follow him. “There’s this room with some boxes lying around. We could move those boxes to the basement, pile them up, and then put a large mattress on the floor. You can sleep in here, Dean.”
“Good,” Dean said. “I’ll clean the place up later then, thanks Bobby.”
“Don’t mention it. And your dad will sleep downstairs, in the living room. It’s good having someone there, near the entrance.”
Dean nodded. Indeed, it would be good having someone there guarding the way in, because after what had happened to Sam, he doubted they would be feeling safe any time soon.
~ * ~
When John arrived with the food, they sat together in Bobby’s living room and ate pizza and drank cokes. John and Bobby sat on the red sofa, Sam and Dean sat on a rug on the floor.
“I’m gonna fix you guys a TV, I promise,” Bobby said cheerfully, eating a big slice of pizza. “I never have time to watch it, but since we’ll be here for a while I’ll manage to get one.”
“Thanks, Bobby. You’re awesome,” Dean said over a mouthful of food.
Sam watched them talk and interact as he ate pizza too. He didn’t say anything, but the feeling of that greasy, salty and delicious pizza in his mouth felt like heaven. He would have eaten a lot more if his stomach had allowed him, but it was still recovering from a long period of hunger, and it was definitely smaller than it used to be. So Sam finished his second slice and washed it down with coke.
He realized, once again, that his father stole concerned glances at him. Sam felt shy under the analysis of those eyes, so he tried to avoid them.
John even bought them chocolate pie for dessert, and Sam helped himself to a small piece. When they finished eating, it was almost evening and the sun would be setting soon.
“I’ll go prepare the room for the night, Bobby,” Dean announced after a while. He got up and started walking, and then he realized Sam had gotten up as well. Dean looked at his younger brother, and it broke his heart how lost Sam felt. Bobby’s house was the closest to home they had ever had since the death of their mother, and yet, Sam could not feel comfortable in there. “You wanna come up too?” He asked.
Sam nodded shortly. He followed Dean upstairs and left Bobby and John talking to themselves. Sam watched as Dean started to lift and move boxes he would later carry to the basement.
“I’m afraid you can’t help me lift any of this heavy stuff. Why don’t you go read a little in your room? Is the book good?”
Sam nodded. That didn’t sound bad.
He went to the room he would be sleeping in and opened the travel bag Dean had left there before. There were his clothes inside, the book and the prescription bottles the doctor had given him. Sam read the labels and chose one. He took a pill for the pain, as the doctor had instructed, and then he stared at the sleeping pills. ‘Maybe later,’ he thought, and picked up the book instead.
From where he was lying on the bed, Sam could see Dean moving the boxes out of his room and then disappearing downstairs towards the basement. He watched his brother do that for the next hour, and when the sun started to set and night began to fall, Sam got up, turned the lights on in his room and stared at the sleeping pills. He knew he would feel like something of a coward if he took one, so Sam just decided to go back to his reading and hope that soon it would make him feel sleepy enough.
It was around nine pm when John and Bobby met them upstairs.
“Dean,” John called his son.
By now Dean’s room was pretty much ready. He had removed the boxes, cleaned up the place and settled the comfortable mattress on the floor. He still had to organize the sheets and pillow, though.
“Yes?”
“Bobby and I are going out,” John said.
“Why? Where?” Dean frowned. “Are you going to hunt?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” John shook his head quickly. “We’re going to patrol the area around the house tonight. We want to make sure no one followed us here,” he said. “After what happened, we can not take chances. We’ll spend the night making sure everything is clear.”
Dean nodded. He agreed with that, it seemed like a smart thing to do. “Alright,” he said.
“Will you and Sam be fine by yourselves? We’ll be back by morning.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be here if he needs anything.”
“Good,” John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’re heading out now. You two take care then.”
“No problem.”
John walked towards Sam’s room and looked at his younger son. “Bobby and I are going to patrol the area. Dean will be with you,” he said.
‘I heard it,’ Sam thought, but didn’t say anything.
“We’ll be back before you get up in the morning,” he offered Sam a smile which he didn’t mirror and turned around to leave.
Dean heard the noise of the door slamming shut and went back to organizing his bedroom. Every now and then he looked at Sam, lying on the bed reading his book, but since his brother was quiet and focused on his reading, Dean thought it was better not to disturb him.
He took his own book, the big Lord of The Rings one, which he had started reading in the hospital, and lay down on his bed, reading a few pages.
Dean didn’t know what time it was when his eyes started to feel heavy and he could no longer control the yawning. He put the book beside the bed and got up to brush his teeth and use the bathroom.
When he was in the hallway, he took a look at Sam’s room, and found his brother asleep on the bed, the book forgotten by his side. Slowly and quietly, Dean walked towards the bed and put the book on a nightstand beside it. Then, very softly so as not to wake him, Dean took off Sam’s tennis shoes and pulled a sheet over him. Sam looked peaceful in his sleep, and Dean didn’t want to disturb him any longer, so he walked back to the door, looked at Sam one last time and turned off the lights.
He then went to the bathroom to get ready for bed and took a quick shower before changing into a white, cotton tank top and boxers. When he was done, Dean went back to his room and lay down again. The shower had washed away some of his sleepiness, so he was on his way to picking up the book and reading a few more pages when he heard the screaming.
~ * ~
There was something outside his mind, something that whispered softly against his shut eyes, something that urged him to open his eyes and see, and feel what was there. Sam didn’t know why he sensed something was wrong, it was like his very skin could perceive the lack of light, and he opened his eyes to find himself in absolute darkness.
‘No,’ for a few seconds he was so paralyzed by shock that he could not move. He felt frozen in place as his heart started a crazy, arrhythmic beating and his breathing hitched to something close to panting. ‘I’m back,’ he thought, and when the shaking started, so did the screaming.
“NOOOOO!!!” Sam tugged at the sheet over him frantically and sat up. His ribcage screamed in protest, but Sam didn’t care about the pain. Darkness was all around him, and he knew what happened when darkness came, he had learned the lesson very well. “NOOO!!! NOT AGAIN!! NO MORE!” He yelled, getting up and nearly tripping on the covers. His leg hurt, his ribs hurt, but his adrenaline was high and panic took over.
When Sam heard the hurried footsteps walking towards his room, he lost his mind and his panting turned into hyperventilation, and the shaking was so bad he crouched in a corner of the room and waited.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME! DON’T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY!” Sam cried, and felt his eyes were moist and his throat was dry. The footsteps were near now, they were inside the room with him, and the man was back to hurt him more…
~ * ~
Dean’s heart nearly flew off his chest when he heard the shrieking, painful scream coming from Sam’s room. It was all he could do not to throw the book in the air and rush towards it with his heartbeats drumming loudly.
He arrived at the door to Sam’s room and entered, but it was dark and he didn’t know what was going on. Was there someone else there with Sam? How had they gotten in?
“STAY AWAY FROM ME! DON’T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY!”
“Sam?” Dean turned on the lights and found his brother. And what he saw broke his heart into a million pieces.
Sam was crouching in a corner of the room, shaking and breathing rapidly. His eyes were wildly scared and he didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening right now. Sam appeared to be lost in a nightmare of fright and hurt, and he stared at nowhere in particular, rocking himself as shudder after shudder took control of him.
“Sam, it’s alright. Nobody’s here. What happened?” Dean walked towards him and crouched before him, refraining from touching his brother and perhaps startling him further.
Sam blinked a few times and suddenly he became aware of the brightness in the room once again. Dean’s voice cut through a haze of fear and Sam found his brother’s concerned eyes looking intently at him.
“He always came in the dark,” Sam blurted, looking desperately into Dean’s eyes.
Dean reached out his hands to touch him, and Sam grabbed both of his brother’s arms and squeezed.
“Who did?” Dean asked.
“The man,” Sam said, and shuddered again. “He came and tortured me when the lights went out.”
Dean felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart. He swallowed hard and felt his jaw muscles become tense. Who was this man? There was no man other than the doctor when they had busted into Sam’s captivity to rescue him. Did the doctor torture Sam? Dean had a hard time picturing it. Was Sam referring to the demon, then? He could have thought he was a man. But what if there was someone else? What if they hadn’t caught the one who had actually hurt Sam all this time?
There were so many questions in his mind now, but Dean forced himself to let them go, because Sam was there now, scared and reaching out to him, and being there for him was more important than anything.
So Dean held back the thousand questions he had about what Sam had just said and focused on making him feel better instead.
“There’s no one here now, no one but you and me,” Dean reassured him.
Sam stared into Dean’s green eyes for a moment, his breathing slowly coming down from dangerously close to hyperventilation to something like panting.
Dean squeezed Sam’s arms the same way Sam squeezed his, and they stayed like that for a while, looking at each other, Dean trying to make Sam understand he was safe as he slowly calmed down and started breathing normally.
When Sam started coming back to his senses, he looked down at the floor, ashamed for his outburst. He let go of Dean’s arms and shrunk in his body, afraid to look at his brother after the way he had just acted.
“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed, huh?” Dean offered his hands to help Sam up.
Feeling tired and emotionally drained after the screaming and the fear, Sam accepted the help and winced when he tried to get up. His still injured ribs punished him for his swift moving.
“Hm,” he moaned and frowned, stopping for a moment to process the pain.
“Easy, Sam… yeah, go slow,” Dean helped him sit on the bed and sat there beside him. “Do you feel better? Want me to bring you a glass of water?”
Sam nodded sheepishly and stared at the sheets. He didn’t raise his eyes when Dean left to go to the kitchen; he crossed his legs and waited, barely moving at all.
On his way downstairs to get Sam water, Dean’s heart was tight in his chest because of the scene he had just witnessed. He was glad that Sam had talked to him, but terrified with the idea of how badly they had hurt Sam’s body and mind in that bright room.
Dean was back five minutes later, and he handed Sam the water which he drank carefully, before putting the glass on the nightstand next to the book.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” Sam said, becoming suddenly aware that they were actually talking.
“Sam… I’m so sorry I turned off the lights,” Dean’s eyes were all concern.
“You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t,” Dean agreed. “But I do now.”
Sam still had difficulty staring at his brother. He felt vulnerable after having just lost control like that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked, with calm and honesty.
Sam shook his head vehemently and a flash of fright crossed his eyes before he could blink it away. ‘The wall… Build the wall, don’t go back!’
“Okay. We are not going to talk about it, then,” Dean said.
Sam nodded, grateful.
“Did you take one of the sleeping pills the doc gave you?”
Sam shook his head.
“Would you like to take one now?”
“Yes.”
“Here,” Dean handed the prescription bottle to him and watched as Sam took one. It felt so weird that the little brother he had known all his life looked so broken and so sad… Dean had never seen Sam so aloof and so afraid. He wished there was something he could do to go back in time and prevent him from ever being taken away. ‘What have they done to you?’ Dean thought, feeling his throat tight.
Sam looked helplessly around at the room and waited. He didn’t have to say anything for Dean to understand he was scared of being alone.
“Do you think you can go back to sleep now?”
“Don’t think so…” Sam whispered.
Dean bit on his bottom lip and thought quickly. “So do you mind if I get my book and read here with you for a while? I was gonna read in my own room, but if you’re not sleeping now…”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Sam took the offer gladly.
Dean nodded, his heart a bit lighter for the response. He went back to his room and in a moment he was lying on the same bed as Sam, both brothers reading books about Tolkien’s fantasy world. After everything they had been through, the books were a much needed and welcomed distraction from the harsh reality their lives had become.
“Damn, Sam… those hobbits walk, I’ll tell you,” Dean said casually.
Sam chuckled, the sound small and soft, but it made Dean’s chest swell appreciatively.
“You have just started. Wait and see,” Sam said, amused.
“Where are you going?” Dean asked.
“Bathroom,” Sam said, getting up slowly, shutting his eyes at the pain of moving.
“Need help?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Dean watched him disappear into the bathroom and return a few minutes later. Sam climbed back on bed and they read for over an hour. It was usually difficult for Dean to focus for so long on reading - he would often get the urge to get up and do something else - but he stayed right where he was until he sensed the medicine was kicking in and Sam was feeling sleepy.
Dean watched when eventually Sam put the book on the nightstand and turned on his side, his back to Dean. Unwilling to disturb him, Dean didn’t move for at least another half an hour. Then, he put his book aside and looked at Sam.
He felt so much at the same time that it was difficult to understand it. Sometimes Dean’s life was so focused on taking care of Sam that he couldn’t find himself in the warm, loving concern he felt for his brother.
He looked at Sam’s brown hair, longer than he could remember, covering his ear and part of his neck, and couldn’t fight back the need to touch him.
Dean reached out his hand and let his fingers run through Sam’s soft hair. It felt good touching him. After so many nights of wondering how he was, it was comforting having Sam right there, within the reach of his fingers.
He opened and closed his fingers gently, letting them rake Sam’s head and slide through his hair. Then, suddenly, a memory came up in his brain and caused him to stop.
They were getting ready for school and John ruffled Sam’s hair playfully.
“Dad, don’t!” Sam frowned and tried pushing his dad’s hand away.
“What? Can’t I play around with you?”
“Not with my hair, no,” Sam said, with all the annoyance his teenage years could summon.
“Oh really? Not the hair, huh?” John said, and then he messed Sam’s hair up all over, deliberately, causing Sam to groan and move until he was out of reach.
For John it was just a joke, a father and son moment, but Dean remembered the dirty look in Sam’s eyes. It was his hair, and he felt disrespected.
Dean retreated his hand quickly.
“Don’t,” Sam said, startling Dean, who thought he was asleep.
“What?” Dean asked.
“Don’t stop. It feels good.”
It took Dean a moment to let Sam’s words sink in. Tentatively, Dean let his hand go back to what it was doing, his fingers tangling in Sam’s hair and caressing him. He heard a soft little sound of pleasure escape his brother’s lips before there was nothing but the sound of his peaceful, sleeping breath.
Dean kept the soft raking of his fingers for a while longer before he too felt sleepy. When he could no longer fight the urge to shut his eyes, Dean nestled under the sheets and looked at the back of Sam’s head. It was never his intention to go back to his own room tonight.
With the lights on, Dean found sleep beside his brother that night.
-----------------------------------------------------
tbc...
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It should have been just another birthday, but it wasn't. When Sam disappears mysteriously, John, Dean and Bobby team up to start a desperate search for him. Meanwhile, Sam wakes up in a strange, cold room, where no one talks to him, although he knows he's being watched. He's just a boy, and when things go terribly wrong, can Dean help him survive the darkness that creeps through his skin and nestles in his bones? This is a story of great darkness and pain, but also of great love and comfort.
Warnings and A/N: Top!Dean, bottom!Sam, not for the faint of heart, graphic violence/torture and maybe more. Read at your own risk. Wee!cest, pre-series. Hurt/Comfort, protective Dean.
Previous chapters
Chapter 22
Sam was quiet during the trip to Bobby’s home. He looked out of the window, from the Impala’s backseat, and listened to the classic rock songs playing on the radio. It felt all too familiar, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to relax. It was like every minute he was wary, afraid they might bring up the topic of his kidnapping and start asking questions he didn’t want to answer.
Dean looked at him every now and then, with the corner of his eye, and that made Sam able to relax a little. Dean didn’t look at him with a demanding question in his eyes, there was only silent patience in his look, and Sam needed that, he was drawn to that.
His body felt better than it had in weeks. There was no throbbing, no burning sensation. The pain only came if he tried to move, or if he drew a deeper breath - then his ribcage would protest and cause him to wince. The rest of his injuries didn’t seem so bad.
They arrived at Bobby’s place in the early afternoon. As soon as he was out of the Impala, Sam stared at the familiar salvage yard. Looking at those wrecked cars, it was impossible not to think of how many times Dean and he used to play hide and seek in there when they were kids.
Sam began to feel glad for the idea of coming to Bobby’s place. He had good memories of being there, and he hoped they would help him feel normal again.
“C’mon guys,” Bobby invited them in, opening the front door. “It’s the usual mess, but I know you won’t mind.”
They followed Bobby into the living room where bookcases decorated the walls, carrying tons of old books. Sam limped a little and walked with evident difficulty. He tried hard not to show how much it hurt moving because he could feel the way his father looked at him, studying his reactions carefully. Sam ignored the looks and kept going, fighting the more persistent wounds and following the group when they walked into the kitchen.
“I’m hungry,” Dean said. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Dean…” John frowned.
“It’s true, though. We’ve only had breakfast.”
Usually, Sam would have cracked a joke about how his brother was always hungry, but right now Sam just listened to them in silence.
“I’m sure I have plenty of canned goods, but no gourmet meal to feed you lot.”
“We don’t need a gourmet meal,” John reassured his friend.
“Although, we could do with a pizza, don’t you think we deserve it?” Dean looked into his father’s eyes. Canned food was fine for hunters, but after everything they had been through, he thought Sam could do with something better. Besides, he still needed to put on the weight he had lost, and eating canned food was not the way.
John understood what Dean told him with his eyes, and nodded in agreement.
“Tell you what, I’ll drive to town and get us plenty of good food then. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Do you want me to come?” Bobby asked him.
“Stay with the boys,” John said. “I won’t be long.”
Bobby nodded and they watched as John turned around to leave. They heard the Impala’s engine running when Bobby was leading them upstairs.
Sam fell behind. Bobby went first, then Dean, and Sam went up the stairs after them. They had already slept over Bobby’s many times, but it still amazed Sam how big and beautiful the old hunter’s house was on the second story. Bobby always kept it neat, although he spent most of his time downstairs.
As they walked, Bobby opened the windows to let the sun in.
“Here’s the big bedroom. There’s a bathroom inside too. You’ll be sleeping here, Sam.”
Sam looked at the large double bed and then looked worriedly at Bobby. That was his bedroom. Bobby didn’t have to give him his own bedroom. Sam shook his head quickly.
“What? Don’t you like it?”
Sam looked thoughtful and unwilling to speak. Dean tried to help him.
“I think he doesn’t want to be in your room, Bobby,” he said, and Sam nodded gratefully.
“Bullshit,” Bobby said quickly. “This is the most comfortable bedroom, and the bathroom is really near, so if you need to use it during the night you won’t have to walk a lot with those injuries you got.”
Sam lowered his eyes to the floor. He was thankful for Bobby’s concern, but again, he didn’t find it in him to say anything. He felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly, and felt a little better within his silence.
“I’ll be sleeping in the bedroom you guys usually share when you come here,” Bobby explained. “Now here,” he motioned for them to follow him. “There’s this room with some boxes lying around. We could move those boxes to the basement, pile them up, and then put a large mattress on the floor. You can sleep in here, Dean.”
“Good,” Dean said. “I’ll clean the place up later then, thanks Bobby.”
“Don’t mention it. And your dad will sleep downstairs, in the living room. It’s good having someone there, near the entrance.”
Dean nodded. Indeed, it would be good having someone there guarding the way in, because after what had happened to Sam, he doubted they would be feeling safe any time soon.
~ * ~
When John arrived with the food, they sat together in Bobby’s living room and ate pizza and drank cokes. John and Bobby sat on the red sofa, Sam and Dean sat on a rug on the floor.
“I’m gonna fix you guys a TV, I promise,” Bobby said cheerfully, eating a big slice of pizza. “I never have time to watch it, but since we’ll be here for a while I’ll manage to get one.”
“Thanks, Bobby. You’re awesome,” Dean said over a mouthful of food.
Sam watched them talk and interact as he ate pizza too. He didn’t say anything, but the feeling of that greasy, salty and delicious pizza in his mouth felt like heaven. He would have eaten a lot more if his stomach had allowed him, but it was still recovering from a long period of hunger, and it was definitely smaller than it used to be. So Sam finished his second slice and washed it down with coke.
He realized, once again, that his father stole concerned glances at him. Sam felt shy under the analysis of those eyes, so he tried to avoid them.
John even bought them chocolate pie for dessert, and Sam helped himself to a small piece. When they finished eating, it was almost evening and the sun would be setting soon.
“I’ll go prepare the room for the night, Bobby,” Dean announced after a while. He got up and started walking, and then he realized Sam had gotten up as well. Dean looked at his younger brother, and it broke his heart how lost Sam felt. Bobby’s house was the closest to home they had ever had since the death of their mother, and yet, Sam could not feel comfortable in there. “You wanna come up too?” He asked.
Sam nodded shortly. He followed Dean upstairs and left Bobby and John talking to themselves. Sam watched as Dean started to lift and move boxes he would later carry to the basement.
“I’m afraid you can’t help me lift any of this heavy stuff. Why don’t you go read a little in your room? Is the book good?”
Sam nodded. That didn’t sound bad.
He went to the room he would be sleeping in and opened the travel bag Dean had left there before. There were his clothes inside, the book and the prescription bottles the doctor had given him. Sam read the labels and chose one. He took a pill for the pain, as the doctor had instructed, and then he stared at the sleeping pills. ‘Maybe later,’ he thought, and picked up the book instead.
From where he was lying on the bed, Sam could see Dean moving the boxes out of his room and then disappearing downstairs towards the basement. He watched his brother do that for the next hour, and when the sun started to set and night began to fall, Sam got up, turned the lights on in his room and stared at the sleeping pills. He knew he would feel like something of a coward if he took one, so Sam just decided to go back to his reading and hope that soon it would make him feel sleepy enough.
It was around nine pm when John and Bobby met them upstairs.
“Dean,” John called his son.
By now Dean’s room was pretty much ready. He had removed the boxes, cleaned up the place and settled the comfortable mattress on the floor. He still had to organize the sheets and pillow, though.
“Yes?”
“Bobby and I are going out,” John said.
“Why? Where?” Dean frowned. “Are you going to hunt?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” John shook his head quickly. “We’re going to patrol the area around the house tonight. We want to make sure no one followed us here,” he said. “After what happened, we can not take chances. We’ll spend the night making sure everything is clear.”
Dean nodded. He agreed with that, it seemed like a smart thing to do. “Alright,” he said.
“Will you and Sam be fine by yourselves? We’ll be back by morning.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be here if he needs anything.”
“Good,” John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’re heading out now. You two take care then.”
“No problem.”
John walked towards Sam’s room and looked at his younger son. “Bobby and I are going to patrol the area. Dean will be with you,” he said.
‘I heard it,’ Sam thought, but didn’t say anything.
“We’ll be back before you get up in the morning,” he offered Sam a smile which he didn’t mirror and turned around to leave.
Dean heard the noise of the door slamming shut and went back to organizing his bedroom. Every now and then he looked at Sam, lying on the bed reading his book, but since his brother was quiet and focused on his reading, Dean thought it was better not to disturb him.
He took his own book, the big Lord of The Rings one, which he had started reading in the hospital, and lay down on his bed, reading a few pages.
Dean didn’t know what time it was when his eyes started to feel heavy and he could no longer control the yawning. He put the book beside the bed and got up to brush his teeth and use the bathroom.
When he was in the hallway, he took a look at Sam’s room, and found his brother asleep on the bed, the book forgotten by his side. Slowly and quietly, Dean walked towards the bed and put the book on a nightstand beside it. Then, very softly so as not to wake him, Dean took off Sam’s tennis shoes and pulled a sheet over him. Sam looked peaceful in his sleep, and Dean didn’t want to disturb him any longer, so he walked back to the door, looked at Sam one last time and turned off the lights.
He then went to the bathroom to get ready for bed and took a quick shower before changing into a white, cotton tank top and boxers. When he was done, Dean went back to his room and lay down again. The shower had washed away some of his sleepiness, so he was on his way to picking up the book and reading a few more pages when he heard the screaming.
~ * ~
There was something outside his mind, something that whispered softly against his shut eyes, something that urged him to open his eyes and see, and feel what was there. Sam didn’t know why he sensed something was wrong, it was like his very skin could perceive the lack of light, and he opened his eyes to find himself in absolute darkness.
‘No,’ for a few seconds he was so paralyzed by shock that he could not move. He felt frozen in place as his heart started a crazy, arrhythmic beating and his breathing hitched to something close to panting. ‘I’m back,’ he thought, and when the shaking started, so did the screaming.
“NOOOOO!!!” Sam tugged at the sheet over him frantically and sat up. His ribcage screamed in protest, but Sam didn’t care about the pain. Darkness was all around him, and he knew what happened when darkness came, he had learned the lesson very well. “NOOO!!! NOT AGAIN!! NO MORE!” He yelled, getting up and nearly tripping on the covers. His leg hurt, his ribs hurt, but his adrenaline was high and panic took over.
When Sam heard the hurried footsteps walking towards his room, he lost his mind and his panting turned into hyperventilation, and the shaking was so bad he crouched in a corner of the room and waited.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME! DON’T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY!” Sam cried, and felt his eyes were moist and his throat was dry. The footsteps were near now, they were inside the room with him, and the man was back to hurt him more…
~ * ~
Dean’s heart nearly flew off his chest when he heard the shrieking, painful scream coming from Sam’s room. It was all he could do not to throw the book in the air and rush towards it with his heartbeats drumming loudly.
He arrived at the door to Sam’s room and entered, but it was dark and he didn’t know what was going on. Was there someone else there with Sam? How had they gotten in?
“STAY AWAY FROM ME! DON’T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY!”
“Sam?” Dean turned on the lights and found his brother. And what he saw broke his heart into a million pieces.
Sam was crouching in a corner of the room, shaking and breathing rapidly. His eyes were wildly scared and he didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening right now. Sam appeared to be lost in a nightmare of fright and hurt, and he stared at nowhere in particular, rocking himself as shudder after shudder took control of him.
“Sam, it’s alright. Nobody’s here. What happened?” Dean walked towards him and crouched before him, refraining from touching his brother and perhaps startling him further.
Sam blinked a few times and suddenly he became aware of the brightness in the room once again. Dean’s voice cut through a haze of fear and Sam found his brother’s concerned eyes looking intently at him.
“He always came in the dark,” Sam blurted, looking desperately into Dean’s eyes.
Dean reached out his hands to touch him, and Sam grabbed both of his brother’s arms and squeezed.
“Who did?” Dean asked.
“The man,” Sam said, and shuddered again. “He came and tortured me when the lights went out.”
Dean felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart. He swallowed hard and felt his jaw muscles become tense. Who was this man? There was no man other than the doctor when they had busted into Sam’s captivity to rescue him. Did the doctor torture Sam? Dean had a hard time picturing it. Was Sam referring to the demon, then? He could have thought he was a man. But what if there was someone else? What if they hadn’t caught the one who had actually hurt Sam all this time?
There were so many questions in his mind now, but Dean forced himself to let them go, because Sam was there now, scared and reaching out to him, and being there for him was more important than anything.
So Dean held back the thousand questions he had about what Sam had just said and focused on making him feel better instead.
“There’s no one here now, no one but you and me,” Dean reassured him.
Sam stared into Dean’s green eyes for a moment, his breathing slowly coming down from dangerously close to hyperventilation to something like panting.
Dean squeezed Sam’s arms the same way Sam squeezed his, and they stayed like that for a while, looking at each other, Dean trying to make Sam understand he was safe as he slowly calmed down and started breathing normally.
When Sam started coming back to his senses, he looked down at the floor, ashamed for his outburst. He let go of Dean’s arms and shrunk in his body, afraid to look at his brother after the way he had just acted.
“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed, huh?” Dean offered his hands to help Sam up.
Feeling tired and emotionally drained after the screaming and the fear, Sam accepted the help and winced when he tried to get up. His still injured ribs punished him for his swift moving.
“Hm,” he moaned and frowned, stopping for a moment to process the pain.
“Easy, Sam… yeah, go slow,” Dean helped him sit on the bed and sat there beside him. “Do you feel better? Want me to bring you a glass of water?”
Sam nodded sheepishly and stared at the sheets. He didn’t raise his eyes when Dean left to go to the kitchen; he crossed his legs and waited, barely moving at all.
On his way downstairs to get Sam water, Dean’s heart was tight in his chest because of the scene he had just witnessed. He was glad that Sam had talked to him, but terrified with the idea of how badly they had hurt Sam’s body and mind in that bright room.
Dean was back five minutes later, and he handed Sam the water which he drank carefully, before putting the glass on the nightstand next to the book.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” Sam said, becoming suddenly aware that they were actually talking.
“Sam… I’m so sorry I turned off the lights,” Dean’s eyes were all concern.
“You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t,” Dean agreed. “But I do now.”
Sam still had difficulty staring at his brother. He felt vulnerable after having just lost control like that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked, with calm and honesty.
Sam shook his head vehemently and a flash of fright crossed his eyes before he could blink it away. ‘The wall… Build the wall, don’t go back!’
“Okay. We are not going to talk about it, then,” Dean said.
Sam nodded, grateful.
“Did you take one of the sleeping pills the doc gave you?”
Sam shook his head.
“Would you like to take one now?”
“Yes.”
“Here,” Dean handed the prescription bottle to him and watched as Sam took one. It felt so weird that the little brother he had known all his life looked so broken and so sad… Dean had never seen Sam so aloof and so afraid. He wished there was something he could do to go back in time and prevent him from ever being taken away. ‘What have they done to you?’ Dean thought, feeling his throat tight.
Sam looked helplessly around at the room and waited. He didn’t have to say anything for Dean to understand he was scared of being alone.
“Do you think you can go back to sleep now?”
“Don’t think so…” Sam whispered.
Dean bit on his bottom lip and thought quickly. “So do you mind if I get my book and read here with you for a while? I was gonna read in my own room, but if you’re not sleeping now…”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Sam took the offer gladly.
Dean nodded, his heart a bit lighter for the response. He went back to his room and in a moment he was lying on the same bed as Sam, both brothers reading books about Tolkien’s fantasy world. After everything they had been through, the books were a much needed and welcomed distraction from the harsh reality their lives had become.
“Damn, Sam… those hobbits walk, I’ll tell you,” Dean said casually.
Sam chuckled, the sound small and soft, but it made Dean’s chest swell appreciatively.
“You have just started. Wait and see,” Sam said, amused.
“Where are you going?” Dean asked.
“Bathroom,” Sam said, getting up slowly, shutting his eyes at the pain of moving.
“Need help?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Dean watched him disappear into the bathroom and return a few minutes later. Sam climbed back on bed and they read for over an hour. It was usually difficult for Dean to focus for so long on reading - he would often get the urge to get up and do something else - but he stayed right where he was until he sensed the medicine was kicking in and Sam was feeling sleepy.
Dean watched when eventually Sam put the book on the nightstand and turned on his side, his back to Dean. Unwilling to disturb him, Dean didn’t move for at least another half an hour. Then, he put his book aside and looked at Sam.
He felt so much at the same time that it was difficult to understand it. Sometimes Dean’s life was so focused on taking care of Sam that he couldn’t find himself in the warm, loving concern he felt for his brother.
He looked at Sam’s brown hair, longer than he could remember, covering his ear and part of his neck, and couldn’t fight back the need to touch him.
Dean reached out his hand and let his fingers run through Sam’s soft hair. It felt good touching him. After so many nights of wondering how he was, it was comforting having Sam right there, within the reach of his fingers.
He opened and closed his fingers gently, letting them rake Sam’s head and slide through his hair. Then, suddenly, a memory came up in his brain and caused him to stop.
They were getting ready for school and John ruffled Sam’s hair playfully.
“Dad, don’t!” Sam frowned and tried pushing his dad’s hand away.
“What? Can’t I play around with you?”
“Not with my hair, no,” Sam said, with all the annoyance his teenage years could summon.
“Oh really? Not the hair, huh?” John said, and then he messed Sam’s hair up all over, deliberately, causing Sam to groan and move until he was out of reach.
For John it was just a joke, a father and son moment, but Dean remembered the dirty look in Sam’s eyes. It was his hair, and he felt disrespected.
Dean retreated his hand quickly.
“Don’t,” Sam said, startling Dean, who thought he was asleep.
“What?” Dean asked.
“Don’t stop. It feels good.”
It took Dean a moment to let Sam’s words sink in. Tentatively, Dean let his hand go back to what it was doing, his fingers tangling in Sam’s hair and caressing him. He heard a soft little sound of pleasure escape his brother’s lips before there was nothing but the sound of his peaceful, sleeping breath.
Dean kept the soft raking of his fingers for a while longer before he too felt sleepy. When he could no longer fight the urge to shut his eyes, Dean nestled under the sheets and looked at the back of Sam’s head. It was never his intention to go back to his own room tonight.
With the lights on, Dean found sleep beside his brother that night.
-----------------------------------------------------
tbc...