Amaurosis: Epilogue
Epilogue
Sam
A-B-C-Dean...
Sam wondered what had prompted him to say that... it sounded juvenile and stupid. But he could hear the clear high voice of a child repeating it in his head clear as a bell. He shook his head to clear it. It just didn’t make any sense...
It was odd, Sam mused, being able to see; he watched the hunter shovel food into his mouth and couldn’t help but grimace in disgust- apparently being unable to see had spared him from knowing Dean’s disastrous table manners.
He had been so worried about Dean that he had not yet had the time to appreciate his newfound sense of sight and as he brushed his teeth after dinner, he took the time to look at himself: a face that was all angles and eyes that seemed unable to decide on which colour they wanted to be. Long shaggy hair that perpetually fell over his eyes and cheeks that caved inwards to form little craters when he smiled. It wasn’t anything particularly hideous but next to Dean; he was positively lacking in the ‘good-looks’ department.
The hunter... well he could spend hours appreciating Dean’s features, though.
Sharp, high cheek-bones on a square-ish face that was dotted with freckles; the rugged features offset by surprisingly full lips and eyes that were shielded by a fan of long lashes. Yes, Dean was a real-life Adonis.
He had had a fair idea that the hunter was good looking based on his image of the man he’d drawn from touch, but the actual version was better than anything he could have imagined. He had not known that the man had eyes the colour of fresh young leaves or that Dean tended to bite his lower lip when deep in thought.
The redness of the hunter’s eyes had receded with time; but seeing those knowledgeable eyes blank and unfocussed was still unsettling.
He emerged from the bathroom to find Dean already in bed; his shoulders tense. Rolling his eyes to himself he joined the older man under the covers.
Dean stiffened even further, “Sammy?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Ummm, sleeping?” He answered, confused.
“I thought...” He trailed off uncertainly.
“What, that you’d be free of your dream-catcher duties so easily?” Sam forced a laugh, understanding dawning.
Dean shrugged before pulling him in their rehearsed positions, “Smartass,”
Sam just laughed.
Dean was trying so hard to put up a brave face but the loss of his eyes had hit the hunter harder than he pretended. Every time he thought no-one was watching, Dean’s face lost its smile, head lowering as though to make himself smaller. It became animated again the moment Sam made any sound; his mask of cheerful indifference carefully in place so that the seer was none the wiser about his vulnerability.
Sam let Dean drape an arm around him as was usual but then turned slightly to wrap his own arms over the older man. He wondered about the kind of life Dean must have led to find it necessary to hide even such an obvious vulnerability.
Dean
“Do that again!” Dean demanded; straightening from his slouch to sit straight.
“What, this?”
“You moved something in front of my face just now, didn’t you?”
“Yeah...” Sam answered, “Is your vision returning?”
It had taken Sam less than twenty-four hours to read everything about the spell they had performed and determine that Dean’s blindness was temporary. The spell was designed to bond them together, to make one unified team. It was a test of how much Dean was willing to sacrifice to protect his seer and designed to determine the strength of their bond because once he was granted his sight; Sam- the seer- had nothing holding him to Dean-the hunter- other than his loyalty.
Despite his extensive reading, Sam could not find a time-frame for Dean’s affliction although all the accounts confirmed that the blindness was only temporary. Ultimately they had decided to just wait and watch, Sam utilizing the time to find as much information about Azazeal as he could till then.
It had been four days him complaining and discretely being helped by the seer when Dean confirmed that even though it was not much; he could, at least, make out vague shadows in front of his face. Despite Sam’s soothsaying and confirming that the curse was only temporary; Dean had not really believed that he would get his sight back till then.
“Believe me now?”
Dean jumped, not having realized that his thoughts were so plainly visible on his face. Still, he managed a self-conscious shrug and a smile as he nodded; too relieved to be annoyed at having been caught out.
It took four long days but bit by bit, his eye sight returned. He resolved never to take his eyes for granted again.
Having regained his sight, it allowed him to take in the brand new confidence in Sam’s straightened shoulders and the happiness in the boy’s twinkling eyes. He was going to miss the runt when the time came for goodbyes...
“So, tell me; what have you got?”
“On the Demon?”
“Um-hmmm,”
“Not much,” The seer admitted, pulling out the thick sheaf containing his copious notes, “He’s planning something...”
Dean snorted, “Knew that much already,”
Sam hunched in on himself at his words, his shoulders curling in on themselves and Dean instantly felt guilty.”Sammy...”
“No you’re right; that’s something you yourself had told me,”
Dean raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more; but kept silent, willing the boy to continue.
“I’ve figured out a way to kill him.”
“You mean send him back to hell,” Dean straightened in his seat, because something about Sam’s tone told him there was more to the statement.
“No, I mean actually kill him... annihilate him, if you prefer.”
He let out a low whistle, “Damn,”
“Excuse me?” Sam’s affronted tone reminded him of the high-school teacher who had tried so hard to mould him into someone ‘respectable’.
“All my life I’ve heard rumours about this, you know? Of actually killing these bastards instead of just exorcising them... always figured they were myths. You’re telling me it’s actually possible to do it? Kill the bastard that destroyed my family?” He couldn’t hide the hope in his voice.
Sam nodded, smiling slightly but even that small tilt of his lips was enough to hint at the dimples Dean had grown to adore. “There’s this gun, a Colt designed by Samuel Colt himself. And a special set of bullets. Everything I’ve read indicates that it’s real.” He shrugged.
“Where do we find this gun?”
“The last known recorded location is with someone called uhm...” Sam peered at the laptop screen, “Here, Daniel El-elkiss?”
“Elkins,” Dean breathed.
Sam squinted at the page- it was entirely possible that the‘s’ was actually an ‘n’, “Yeah, Elkins. You’ve heard of him, then?”
Dean nodded, bouncing the balls of his feet, “He’s the guy that showed Dad the ropes when he began as a hunter.”
“Wow,” Sam breathed. “That’s good news, right? We can go to the guy and ask him for it.”
“I can,” He amended, “I’m not taking you to a gun-fight with the YED.”
Sam snorted, “I’ll just follow you, Dean. I’m seeing this through till the end.”
Dean had to bite down on his inner cheek to keep from smiling, “Thanks,”
Sam nodded, glancing around the cottage, “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning,”
Sam
“Got everything?” Dean’s voice came from the door and Sam hurriedly tried to tuck the piece of paper back into his duffel before the other man caught sight of it.
“What’ve you got there?”
“No-nothing...” Sam stammered, inwardly cursing the hunter’s sharp eyes.
“Can’t be ... nothing!” Dean announced as he grabbed the piece and took off sprinting into the other room.
“Dean!” He couldn’t help but growl in dismay, a smile threatening at his lips nevertheless as he grappled with the hunter in a childish fight for the piece of paper.
“What’ve you got here, Sammy; some pin-up gir...” Dean stuttered to an abrupt halt as he finally caught sight of what was on the other side. “Where’d you get this?”
Sam sighed; apparently the cat was out of the bag now. He perched against the edge of the couch and pouted for a moment before confessing, “Apparently my family wanted me to have a reminder of them-I can’t figure out why they’d want that though because they obviously didn’t want me- so when they sold me, they left that picture with me.”
“Sammy...” Dean sank into the worn armchair, eyes still locked on the picture.
Something about the hunter’s tone had him taking notice and he frowned at the devastation on the hunter’s expression, “Dean, what?”
Dean bowed his head, hiding his face between his fingers and Sam saw a minute ripple spread through him before he was still again. Cautiously he stepped forward and kneeled before the older man, “Dean?”
Dean finally pulled his hands away and looked down at him, his eyes bleak, “Guess what? The second spell worked, man...”
“Huh?”
Dean pushed the old photograph- with its slightly bent edges and frayed sides back into his hands, “The man in the picture... that’s...- it’s John Winchester.”
Sam could only blink.
“The kid next to him is me,” Dean continued, “And the infant in my lap is... my little brother, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed, digesting the words silently. He could see no falseness in the hunter’s eyes but his eyes kept being drawn back to the photograph. He took in a shuddering breath, glancing away before meeting Dean’s eyes again, “You didn’t know your brother was a seer?”
Dean shook his head, “Sammy...- you- always responded to me. Turned your little head whichever direction I moved and followed me around like a puppy. ..I- I never suspected-”
“And you didn’t know about the money?”
Dean shook his head, “No, I- I never wanted for my little brother to be adopted out, Sammy. Once Dad explained it to me why we would not be going back for you, I stopped speaking. Didn’t utter a single word for... months, I guess. I remember Dad had to take me to a doctor, because he was worried; but it wasn’t like I couldn’t talk- just... I didn’t see the point of it anymore, you know? Without your happy gurgles and babbling, I just.” Dean sighed, eyes far away, “And I don’t think Dad actually sold you, y’know? Maybe the family gave him money, we sure were always short on it growing up- but he didn’t give you away because of some measly green-paper. Dad loved you too much for that.”
Sam got up to sit next to his brother-brother; wow, that certainly sounded good- shoulders brushing; “I believe you.”
And Dean’s version certainly made sense: he wouldn’t be surprised if his adopted family told him that lie about his father selling him to make him miserable; they undoubtedly held no sympathy for him after realizing that he was a seer. What surprised him was that neither of them realized how well their stories meshed together: in hindsight- except for the seer-thing, it should have been obvious. Hell, he and Dean’s brother shared the same birthday!
“Do you hate me?”
Dean’s voice brought him out of his musing, “What?”
“Do you hate me-us- for giving you away?”
Sam shook his head, “No, I- I never actually hated my family, Dean... it’s just... it just hurt so much to think I wasn’t wanted-”
“But you were. You were wanted, Sammy.” Dean interrupted, “we wanted you so much. ... We just honestly thought it would be better-”
“I know,” he cut in, “it’s okay,”
Dean nodded.
“So... what now?” Sam questioned finally.
“Now, first we get the Colt from Elkins and then we’ll go after that yellow-eyed bastard.”
Sam smiled faintly, remembering how Dean had so far always insisted that he would leave Sam behind when the time for the final confrontation with the demon came, “We?”
Dean nodded; eyes bright as he covered Sam’s hand where it lay on the chair’s arm with his own, “The Winchester brothers. Together.”
Sam couldn’t help but return the grin- ‘together’ sounded so good, “The world better watch out.”
The end.