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 23
When John and Bobby returned home, Sam and Dean were still asleep. They had found no sign of danger in the large area they had patrolled around Bobby’s house. There was no reason to believe Bobby’s place was unsafe, and the two hunters got back home satisfied with their search.
They made their way upstairs to check on the boys before they could find rest themselves. As John walked towards Sam’s room, Bobby went to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he walked out, he found John standing by the half opened door to Sam’s room.
Bobby walked towards his friend and looked inside. He saw the two brothers sleeping on the double bed, each one facing one side of the room, the same blanket covering them both up to the waist.
Bobby smiled with his eyes and stared for a moment. His heart beat appreciatively fast at the sight. Bobby didn’t know what had happened last night, but he was pleased to find Sam and Dean so close. He had no idea what Sam had been through, but Bobby truly hoped Dean would be able to reach out to him.
Bobby looked into John’s eyes, and he could tell his friend was emotional. Having Sam back after all that time, and yet being unable to talk to him was so overwhelming… At least there was someone in Sam’s life who seemed able to get to him.
“I’m glad Dean’s there for him,” John whispered softly. He turned around and walked away softly, so as not to wake them up. “I hope he can help him.”
“Give them time,” Bobby said softly, looking into John’s eyes.
John Winchester nodded and sighed. He walked past Bobby and towards the stairs, ready to find a comfortable place downstairs where he could get some sleep. Bobby made his way to his own bed and they both collapsed for the next hours.
~ * ~
The two brothers woke up a little after John and Bobby went to bed. The noise of them walking in had caused their sleep to become lighter, and an hour after the two older hunters came back home, they were opening their eyes to a new day.
Sam woke up and found Dean lying a few inches from him, looking at him through sleepy eyes.
“Morning,” Dean said.
“Morning,” Sam replied, his voice a little throaty.
“Could you get some sleep?”
Sam nodded. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he had. After the pill he took and Dean’s hand on his hair, Sam didn’t remember much else.
“Are you hungry?” Dean asked.
“A little, yeah.”
“I’ll get up and bring us something to eat in bed.”
Sam watched him get up and leave the room. He found himself marvelling at how good it was being able to reach out for food whenever he felt hungry. Even at the hospital he had to eat on schedule.
When Dean returned, he was carrying two bowls of cereal which they ate in bed.
“Dad and Bobby are asleep,” Dean said, in between spoons of food.
Sam nodded silently.
“I assume everything is safe around here.”
‘Good’, Sam thought, but didn’t say anything. It felt good talking to Dean, but he didn’t feel very chatty.
They finished breakfast and put the two bowls aside, on the nightstand. As Sam reached out to place his bowl there, he winced at the pain in his ribs.
“How’s that feeling?” Dean’s eyes were serious and concerned.
“It hurts a little,” Sam lied. It hurt a fucking lot, but he could handle it. He had handled much, much worse in the bright room. ‘Don’t-‘, he thought, quickly. ‘Don’t go there,’ he told himself and closed his eyes to see the wall he was trying to build between himself and his past.
Sam then opened his eyes and looked at the bed and at the room.
“I want to take a bath. I didn’t take one yesterday,” this was also good. Sam could hardly believe how good it felt being able to actually clean himself with a real bath or shower.
Dean nodded. “Do you want some help?”
Sam wished he didn’t. “Please,” he nodded.
“Alright then.”
Dean stood up once again and helped Sam do the same. As Sam chose clean clothes from his bag, Dean prepared the water in the bathroom. When he was done he entered the room again and walked towards his brother.
Sam had stripped off his pants and kicked off his shoes. He lifted his arms so Dean could help him with the T-shirt.
His heart beat fast when Dean helped him out of it. A small little shudder raked his body and Sam felt tension creeping into him. He knew how awful his bruises still looked, specially the one on his ribcage, and he was extremely self conscious about it.
Dean put the T-shirt aside and walked behind Sam to put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t help letting his eyes trail down the skin of his brother’s back. And his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the many fading, and yet visible scars they found there. Cuts, burns, bruises… Most of those marks were barely even there. One might not be able to see them from a distance, but from where Dean stood, right behind Sam, they seemed to scream on his skin, telling a story of horror that caused Dean’s chest to tighten.
He traced some of those scars with his fingertips, the touch feathery and caring.
Sam shivered, and goosebumps broke all over his arms and thighs.
“Is it… is it too ugly?” He asked.
“No,” Dean said. He wanted to say that Sam was beautiful, that he had always been the most beautiful boy, and that he would always be so for Dean. But his voice was nowhere to be found, and Dean swallowed hard and silenced his thoughts.
He walked with Sam into the bathroom, helped him out of his underwear and into the bathtub. He knelt beside him and washed his hair as Sam washed himself with soap. The moment reminded them of a closeness they had shared many years ago, when they were just kids left to take care of each other while their father was out there, saving the world.
It had been a long time since Sam had last felt Dean’s fingers raking his hair to wash it with shampoo. Dean was much younger than Sam was now when that had last happened.
It felt different now, but it felt good.
Sam shut his eyes and relished the touch. Dean’s hands didn’t hurt him, neither were they too soft. He knew exactly how much pressure to put behind his touch, and it was comforting that someone knew him well enough to touch him like that.
Dean’s heart kept beating fast as he rinsed Sam’s hair. He loved touching his brother, taking care of him. It made him feel useful, it gave his life purpose knowing that Sam needed him, and that he could be there for him. It was just a small little moment, but the thought that Sam wouldn’t want anyone else to see him like that, and help him in such a way, made Dean feel a warm, liquid pride running in his veins.
When it was over, Dean helped Sam out of the bathtub and handed him a towel, which he used to dry himself. After helping Sam into his clean clothes, the two of them went back to bed and sat down.
“Thanks,” Sam said.
Dean smiled and nodded. He liked to look at Sam now and feel how calm he was. It helped him forget the painful image of his brother frightened and shaking last night.
~ * ~
When John woke up, he went upstairs to take a look at his kids. He found them sat on the bed reading books, and his heart skipped a beat when he heard the sound of Sam’s voice. John walked closer to the room and stood by the door, watching for a moment.
“You sure there’s action in this book?”
“Lots of,” Sam nodded, a half smile on his face. “Just keep going.”
John’s heart swelled in his chest at the sound of his youngest son’s voice. He was so caught up in the moment that it startled him when Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder and caused him to turn around.
“Morning boys,” Bobby said from behind John, letting them know they were being watched.
“Morning,” Dean said.
“Morning,” Sam said too.
Bobby knew what John was feeling at the sound of Sam’s voice. He felt some of the same right now. And he also felt how badly his friend wanted to talk to his son.
“Dean? Can you come down here a moment? I’d like to see if we can fix a TV I found in the basement. I’m pretty sure we can make it work if you lend me a hand.”
“Alright,” Dean nodded. He too sensed that his father wanted to be alone with Sam, so he took Bobby’s offer and left the room with him, leaving father and son to themselves.
Sam watched his father walk in further into the room and come sit on the bed.
“So,” John started. “Did you sleep well?”
Sam studied his father for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want him there, it was just that John was such a strong presence, he was so brave and so damn badass… Sam couldn’t help seeing his own weakness when he looked at his father, and the thought of having broken down in the white room made him want to cower to a secret and lonely place in himself.
“I did,” he said softly. He forced himself to speak despite the uneasiness he felt.
John nodded. The sound of Sam’s voice was filling his veins and making him warm. It felt so good hearing it, John could hardly refrain from squeezing Sam tightly in a hug.
‘Please don’t make a big deal out of it,’ Sam thought, studying the way his father was looking at him, clearly happy that he was being spoken to. He didn’t want to be reminded of why he wasn’t talking.
“Good, son. Are you glad we’re here with Bobby, then?”
“I am,” Sam nodded. “I like it here.”
John smiled.
“Can I get you something from downstairs? We’re gonna have something quick for lunch, do you want a sandwich?”
Sam’s stomach growled approvingly at the idea. It was quickly learning how good it was to have access to food, good food, whenever he wanted.
“Yes, thanks.”
John nodded and stood up. “I’ll be right back with it, then.”
Sam watched him go and picked up his book once again.
~ * ~
Downstairs, John ran into Dean and Bobby staring at a TV set in the middle of the living room, there was a toolbox opened right by Bobby’s foot.
“He talked to me,” John approached them and spoke softly, so as not to be heard by Sam upstairs.
Bobby and Dean looked at him, happy for him.
“Did he talk to you last night?” John asked Dean.
“Yes,” Dean said. He knew his father was happy, partly because he hadn’t seen the fear struck look in his son’s eyes the way Dean had the night before.
“I’m so glad he’s finally talking… that’s a good sign,” John went on. “I mean, there’s so much we don’t know yet!” He grew agitated, but his voice was still down. “We still don’t know who took him and why…”
“Dad…”
“We don’t know what was done to him, and if there were more people involved…”
“Dad,” Dean said again. “I don’t think now is the time to talk to him yet.”
That seemed to pull John out of his reverie and he looked at his son.
“Right… it may be a little soon, but you gotta admit there’s a lot we need to know, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean said, and he couldn’t help thinking of Sam’s blurted words to him last night. ‘The man. He came and tortured me when the lights went out.’ “ But I don’t think he’s ready to talk.”
There was silence from the three men for a moment before Dean went on.
“Last night, when you were gone…” Dean lowered his voice. “Sam had a…nightmare, I suppose.”
Bobby’s jaw tensed at the picture in his mind.
“I’ve never seen him like that before… He was so… so scared,” Dean shut his eyes briefly. “We need to know what happened to him, but we won’t unless we give him time.”
John nodded slowly.
“Right… That’s why you slept with him, then?”
Dean nodded.
“Good,” John whispered. “Alright, I won’t say anything. I’ll go make him lunch then.”
Bobby and Dean nodded before going back to work on the television as John disappeared into the kitchen.
~ * ~
Half an hour later, John was walking into Sam’s room again and handing his son a plate with a sandwich on it.
“Thanks,” Sam said and put it on the nightstand for the moment. He watched as his father sat on the bed again.
“Sam…” John didn’t want to upset his son, but how could he not say anything to him after all they had been through? “I just want you to know that we did our best to find you. And I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner,” he spoke with all his heart.
Sam tensed, head to toe, even his breathing seemed to freeze inside of him. It took a lot of focus to speak again.
“I know, dad. It’s okay.” The beatings, the whipping, the burning, the hunger, the confusion, the pain, the pain, the… Sam wanted to scream. He shut his eyes for a moment and fought hard to see nothing but the wall in his mind.
“I’m not gonna make you talk about it if you’re not ready to…”
“I'm not,” Sam cut him off.
“But I do want to say that I’m so proud of you, Sam…” John felt his eyes sting. He couldn’t help it. When he thought of the three painfully long months away from his son, it was impossible to control the joy of being with him now. “And I want to thank you for hanging in there… I mean, god knows what happened to you there, but you handled it, son… You stayed alive. You waited for us.”
Sam stared at the bedspread and his breathing was fast. His hazel eyes were wide and lost.
“I’m so proud of you…” John opened his arms.
Sam looked at his father and accepted the hug. He leaned into the embrace and let his father hug him tightly. He supposed they both needed that.
John placed a hand at the back of Sam’s neck and pressed him into his shoulder, squeezing as tight as he could without it being too much for Sam’s recovering body.
Sam shut his eyes and breathed in his father’s familiar scent. He was glad they were together again. And he didn’t want to talk about how long it had taken for this to happen.
When John let him go in order to look into his eyes, he had recomposed himself.
“Sam, there’s still doctor Michael’s advice, you know. Maybe you could talk to someone, someone who could truly help you. A professional.”
Sam squinted his eyes briefly and looked away.
“I get it that it’s too soon now, but the sooner you are able to get past it, the better.”
‘You don’t understand,’ Sam thought.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “But I don’t want to talk to anyone now.” ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone ever,’ Sam finished in his mind.
“Promise you’ll think about it, though?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said, fully aware there was no way ever he would go to a shrink and tell him what had happened to him in the dark.
“Okay, then. Go eat your sandwich,” John smiled, ruffled Sam’s hair and left the room.
Sam looked at the sandwich on the plate, waiting for him. Suddenly he didn’t feel hungry anymore.
Sam pulled his knees up and rested his chin on top of them. He stayed like that for a long time, looking into the distance, checking the wall in his mind for any possible damage and rebuilding every little brick that threatened to fall out and let the past in.
----------------------------------------------------------
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 23
When John and Bobby returned home, Sam and Dean were still asleep. They had found no sign of danger in the large area they had patrolled around Bobby’s house. There was no reason to believe Bobby’s place was unsafe, and the two hunters got back home satisfied with their search.
They made their way upstairs to check on the boys before they could find rest themselves. As John walked towards Sam’s room, Bobby went to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he walked out, he found John standing by the half opened door to Sam’s room.
Bobby walked towards his friend and looked inside. He saw the two brothers sleeping on the double bed, each one facing one side of the room, the same blanket covering them both up to the waist.
Bobby smiled with his eyes and stared for a moment. His heart beat appreciatively fast at the sight. Bobby didn’t know what had happened last night, but he was pleased to find Sam and Dean so close. He had no idea what Sam had been through, but Bobby truly hoped Dean would be able to reach out to him.
Bobby looked into John’s eyes, and he could tell his friend was emotional. Having Sam back after all that time, and yet being unable to talk to him was so overwhelming… At least there was someone in Sam’s life who seemed able to get to him.
“I’m glad Dean’s there for him,” John whispered softly. He turned around and walked away softly, so as not to wake them up. “I hope he can help him.”
“Give them time,” Bobby said softly, looking into John’s eyes.
John Winchester nodded and sighed. He walked past Bobby and towards the stairs, ready to find a comfortable place downstairs where he could get some sleep. Bobby made his way to his own bed and they both collapsed for the next hours.
~ * ~
The two brothers woke up a little after John and Bobby went to bed. The noise of them walking in had caused their sleep to become lighter, and an hour after the two older hunters came back home, they were opening their eyes to a new day.
Sam woke up and found Dean lying a few inches from him, looking at him through sleepy eyes.
“Morning,” Dean said.
“Morning,” Sam replied, his voice a little throaty.
“Could you get some sleep?”
Sam nodded. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he had. After the pill he took and Dean’s hand on his hair, Sam didn’t remember much else.
“Are you hungry?” Dean asked.
“A little, yeah.”
“I’ll get up and bring us something to eat in bed.”
Sam watched him get up and leave the room. He found himself marvelling at how good it was being able to reach out for food whenever he felt hungry. Even at the hospital he had to eat on schedule.
When Dean returned, he was carrying two bowls of cereal which they ate in bed.
“Dad and Bobby are asleep,” Dean said, in between spoons of food.
Sam nodded silently.
“I assume everything is safe around here.”
‘Good’, Sam thought, but didn’t say anything. It felt good talking to Dean, but he didn’t feel very chatty.
They finished breakfast and put the two bowls aside, on the nightstand. As Sam reached out to place his bowl there, he winced at the pain in his ribs.
“How’s that feeling?” Dean’s eyes were serious and concerned.
“It hurts a little,” Sam lied. It hurt a fucking lot, but he could handle it. He had handled much, much worse in the bright room. ‘Don’t-‘, he thought, quickly. ‘Don’t go there,’ he told himself and closed his eyes to see the wall he was trying to build between himself and his past.
Sam then opened his eyes and looked at the bed and at the room.
“I want to take a bath. I didn’t take one yesterday,” this was also good. Sam could hardly believe how good it felt being able to actually clean himself with a real bath or shower.
Dean nodded. “Do you want some help?”
Sam wished he didn’t. “Please,” he nodded.
“Alright then.”
Dean stood up once again and helped Sam do the same. As Sam chose clean clothes from his bag, Dean prepared the water in the bathroom. When he was done he entered the room again and walked towards his brother.
Sam had stripped off his pants and kicked off his shoes. He lifted his arms so Dean could help him with the T-shirt.
His heart beat fast when Dean helped him out of it. A small little shudder raked his body and Sam felt tension creeping into him. He knew how awful his bruises still looked, specially the one on his ribcage, and he was extremely self conscious about it.
Dean put the T-shirt aside and walked behind Sam to put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t help letting his eyes trail down the skin of his brother’s back. And his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the many fading, and yet visible scars they found there. Cuts, burns, bruises… Most of those marks were barely even there. One might not be able to see them from a distance, but from where Dean stood, right behind Sam, they seemed to scream on his skin, telling a story of horror that caused Dean’s chest to tighten.
He traced some of those scars with his fingertips, the touch feathery and caring.
Sam shivered, and goosebumps broke all over his arms and thighs.
“Is it… is it too ugly?” He asked.
“No,” Dean said. He wanted to say that Sam was beautiful, that he had always been the most beautiful boy, and that he would always be so for Dean. But his voice was nowhere to be found, and Dean swallowed hard and silenced his thoughts.
He walked with Sam into the bathroom, helped him out of his underwear and into the bathtub. He knelt beside him and washed his hair as Sam washed himself with soap. The moment reminded them of a closeness they had shared many years ago, when they were just kids left to take care of each other while their father was out there, saving the world.
It had been a long time since Sam had last felt Dean’s fingers raking his hair to wash it with shampoo. Dean was much younger than Sam was now when that had last happened.
It felt different now, but it felt good.
Sam shut his eyes and relished the touch. Dean’s hands didn’t hurt him, neither were they too soft. He knew exactly how much pressure to put behind his touch, and it was comforting that someone knew him well enough to touch him like that.
Dean’s heart kept beating fast as he rinsed Sam’s hair. He loved touching his brother, taking care of him. It made him feel useful, it gave his life purpose knowing that Sam needed him, and that he could be there for him. It was just a small little moment, but the thought that Sam wouldn’t want anyone else to see him like that, and help him in such a way, made Dean feel a warm, liquid pride running in his veins.
When it was over, Dean helped Sam out of the bathtub and handed him a towel, which he used to dry himself. After helping Sam into his clean clothes, the two of them went back to bed and sat down.
“Thanks,” Sam said.
Dean smiled and nodded. He liked to look at Sam now and feel how calm he was. It helped him forget the painful image of his brother frightened and shaking last night.
~ * ~
When John woke up, he went upstairs to take a look at his kids. He found them sat on the bed reading books, and his heart skipped a beat when he heard the sound of Sam’s voice. John walked closer to the room and stood by the door, watching for a moment.
“You sure there’s action in this book?”
“Lots of,” Sam nodded, a half smile on his face. “Just keep going.”
John’s heart swelled in his chest at the sound of his youngest son’s voice. He was so caught up in the moment that it startled him when Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder and caused him to turn around.
“Morning boys,” Bobby said from behind John, letting them know they were being watched.
“Morning,” Dean said.
“Morning,” Sam said too.
Bobby knew what John was feeling at the sound of Sam’s voice. He felt some of the same right now. And he also felt how badly his friend wanted to talk to his son.
“Dean? Can you come down here a moment? I’d like to see if we can fix a TV I found in the basement. I’m pretty sure we can make it work if you lend me a hand.”
“Alright,” Dean nodded. He too sensed that his father wanted to be alone with Sam, so he took Bobby’s offer and left the room with him, leaving father and son to themselves.
Sam watched his father walk in further into the room and come sit on the bed.
“So,” John started. “Did you sleep well?”
Sam studied his father for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want him there, it was just that John was such a strong presence, he was so brave and so damn badass… Sam couldn’t help seeing his own weakness when he looked at his father, and the thought of having broken down in the white room made him want to cower to a secret and lonely place in himself.
“I did,” he said softly. He forced himself to speak despite the uneasiness he felt.
John nodded. The sound of Sam’s voice was filling his veins and making him warm. It felt so good hearing it, John could hardly refrain from squeezing Sam tightly in a hug.
‘Please don’t make a big deal out of it,’ Sam thought, studying the way his father was looking at him, clearly happy that he was being spoken to. He didn’t want to be reminded of why he wasn’t talking.
“Good, son. Are you glad we’re here with Bobby, then?”
“I am,” Sam nodded. “I like it here.”
John smiled.
“Can I get you something from downstairs? We’re gonna have something quick for lunch, do you want a sandwich?”
Sam’s stomach growled approvingly at the idea. It was quickly learning how good it was to have access to food, good food, whenever he wanted.
“Yes, thanks.”
John nodded and stood up. “I’ll be right back with it, then.”
Sam watched him go and picked up his book once again.
~ * ~
Downstairs, John ran into Dean and Bobby staring at a TV set in the middle of the living room, there was a toolbox opened right by Bobby’s foot.
“He talked to me,” John approached them and spoke softly, so as not to be heard by Sam upstairs.
Bobby and Dean looked at him, happy for him.
“Did he talk to you last night?” John asked Dean.
“Yes,” Dean said. He knew his father was happy, partly because he hadn’t seen the fear struck look in his son’s eyes the way Dean had the night before.
“I’m so glad he’s finally talking… that’s a good sign,” John went on. “I mean, there’s so much we don’t know yet!” He grew agitated, but his voice was still down. “We still don’t know who took him and why…”
“Dad…”
“We don’t know what was done to him, and if there were more people involved…”
“Dad,” Dean said again. “I don’t think now is the time to talk to him yet.”
That seemed to pull John out of his reverie and he looked at his son.
“Right… it may be a little soon, but you gotta admit there’s a lot we need to know, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean said, and he couldn’t help thinking of Sam’s blurted words to him last night. ‘The man. He came and tortured me when the lights went out.’ “ But I don’t think he’s ready to talk.”
There was silence from the three men for a moment before Dean went on.
“Last night, when you were gone…” Dean lowered his voice. “Sam had a…nightmare, I suppose.”
Bobby’s jaw tensed at the picture in his mind.
“I’ve never seen him like that before… He was so… so scared,” Dean shut his eyes briefly. “We need to know what happened to him, but we won’t unless we give him time.”
John nodded slowly.
“Right… That’s why you slept with him, then?”
Dean nodded.
“Good,” John whispered. “Alright, I won’t say anything. I’ll go make him lunch then.”
Bobby and Dean nodded before going back to work on the television as John disappeared into the kitchen.
~ * ~
Half an hour later, John was walking into Sam’s room again and handing his son a plate with a sandwich on it.
“Thanks,” Sam said and put it on the nightstand for the moment. He watched as his father sat on the bed again.
“Sam…” John didn’t want to upset his son, but how could he not say anything to him after all they had been through? “I just want you to know that we did our best to find you. And I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner,” he spoke with all his heart.
Sam tensed, head to toe, even his breathing seemed to freeze inside of him. It took a lot of focus to speak again.
“I know, dad. It’s okay.” The beatings, the whipping, the burning, the hunger, the confusion, the pain, the pain, the… Sam wanted to scream. He shut his eyes for a moment and fought hard to see nothing but the wall in his mind.
“I’m not gonna make you talk about it if you’re not ready to…”
“I'm not,” Sam cut him off.
“But I do want to say that I’m so proud of you, Sam…” John felt his eyes sting. He couldn’t help it. When he thought of the three painfully long months away from his son, it was impossible to control the joy of being with him now. “And I want to thank you for hanging in there… I mean, god knows what happened to you there, but you handled it, son… You stayed alive. You waited for us.”
Sam stared at the bedspread and his breathing was fast. His hazel eyes were wide and lost.
“I’m so proud of you…” John opened his arms.
Sam looked at his father and accepted the hug. He leaned into the embrace and let his father hug him tightly. He supposed they both needed that.
John placed a hand at the back of Sam’s neck and pressed him into his shoulder, squeezing as tight as he could without it being too much for Sam’s recovering body.
Sam shut his eyes and breathed in his father’s familiar scent. He was glad they were together again. And he didn’t want to talk about how long it had taken for this to happen.
When John let him go in order to look into his eyes, he had recomposed himself.
“Sam, there’s still doctor Michael’s advice, you know. Maybe you could talk to someone, someone who could truly help you. A professional.”
Sam squinted his eyes briefly and looked away.
“I get it that it’s too soon now, but the sooner you are able to get past it, the better.”
‘You don’t understand,’ Sam thought.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “But I don’t want to talk to anyone now.” ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone ever,’ Sam finished in his mind.
“Promise you’ll think about it, though?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said, fully aware there was no way ever he would go to a shrink and tell him what had happened to him in the dark.
“Okay, then. Go eat your sandwich,” John smiled, ruffled Sam’s hair and left the room.
Sam looked at the sandwich on the plate, waiting for him. Suddenly he didn’t feel hungry anymore.
Sam pulled his knees up and rested his chin on top of them. He stayed like that for a long time, looking into the distance, checking the wall in his mind for any possible damage and rebuilding every little brick that threatened to fall out and let the past in.
----------------------------------------------------------
tbc...