The Huntress -Chapter 13
Portsmouth, July 5
The rising sun was obscured by grey, gloomy looking clouds. It was seven in the morning, the grass was still covered in delicate dew drops. Sam sat on the stairs of Rania’s porch with his coffee mug, waiting for her to finish with Dean’s examination.
Today was the day he’d bring his brother home. It was an important step for him. Tomorrow was Sumiko’s first birthday, and he wanted the three of them to be together.
…Even under these circumstances.
The door opened behind him and Rania came out to sit with him on the porch steps, sighing loudly.
“You okay, Sam?”
“Yeah, I am. Ready to go. How’s Dean?”
“Other than the fact that he won't talk?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Okay, well, objectively, he’s doing better. The pneumonia is almost completely cured, although I want him on oral antibiotics and salbutamol for at least another week. The baby's heart rate is at a steady and normal rhythm, but we won’t know if the foetal development has picked up for another week. There has been no more bleeding the placental disruption hasn’t worsened. So all of this is good news. Dean’s lost eleven pounds, though. That’s a lot, and since he’s still convalescing, he might lose a couple more.”
“So, I have to make sure he eats well.”
“Yeah. Sometimes, the combination of antibiotics and the weakened state can play havoc with hunger, even trigger nausea, so I’ll give you those protein shakes Dean hates so much. At least they'll ensure that he gets the minimal calories recommended in a day.”
Rania patted Sam on the shoulder, a rare display of affection that meant a lot to him.
“I want him to rest, for at least a week. He can walk a little, sit at the table to eat and take showers, but that’s about it. No heavy lifting or any physical work. I’ve told him all that, you know? He seemed to understand.”
“He does understand.”
“Sam, Dean hasn’t said a single word in four days.”
“It’s his way of coping, always has been. Listen, I know you’re worried. I am too. I spoke to him, about the baby, I apologized for not telling him right away, but what’s going on isn’t only because he’s angry at me - even though he has every right to be. He doesn’t talk because what he needs to talk about is too painful for him.”
“What if it doesn’t get any better?”
“You don’t know him,” Sam snapped. “Our mother died when he was four, from a fire, killed by a demon. He didn’t know what was happening. It was too much. He stopped talking until he felt strong enough to face it, everything that had happened. He’ll snap out of it when he's ready.”
Rania shook her head, looking unconvinced. Sam wanted to apologize for his harsh tone, but just couldn’t. He needed Dean back home, with him. Everything would be better once they were home, as a family. He kept repeating this to himself, had said the same thing to Bobby and Ellen.
They were with Sumiko, waiting for Sam and Dean to come home. They would stay for the day, then, as Sam had requested, they would leave.
Ellen was concerned Sam would have his hands full, but he knew he had better chance to help Dean if it was only the three of them there.
Bobby had understood almost immediately. Last evening, he’d sat next to Sam with an expression that could only mean he wanted to have a serious talk with him.
“You sure about this, Sam?”
“Yeah, I mean… You guys know how thankful I am for what you did for Dean and me. Without you, I don’t know-“
“Cut the emo crap, Sam. What I want to know is, will you be able to manage both Dean and the kid by yourself.”
“I have to. You know Dean, Bobby. He doesn’t like being vulnerable. He doesn’t like people taking care of him. It'll be easier for him if I'm the only one to see him this way.”
“You lost your job, boy. Dean did too, right?”
Sam had shrugged. True, he’d lost his job at the private college. Their main source of income.
“Dean didn’t. Called the company, told them my brother was sick and would be for a few weeks. They said that they were satisfied with his work and that since he was compiling old statistics, they could wait for him to get better. Of course, they won’t pay him in the meantime.”
“Do you have a little extra hidden somewhere?”
“Not really. With the money we have saved, we can go for a month, maybe two if we’re really careful.”
Sam was blushing. He felt ashamed, for some reason, not being able to provide for his family despite the fact that the loss of his job wasn't his fault.
That’s when Bobby had taken a roll of bills from his pocket.
“No,” Sam said firmly. “No, not again, Bobby.”
“You know how I made this money?”
“Bobby-“
“Helped a rich guy get rid of a fucking curse that had been cast on him.”
Sam laughed. “How come Dean and I never found paying gigs like that?”
“Your father lucked into paying gigs a coupl’a times. Now, take the money. It’s not much, but it should get you through Christmas, if you’re careful. After that, I’m sure you guys will have gotten jobs, right?”
“It’s getting to be a habit, you giving us money,” Sam mumbled, feeling heat rise on his cheeks.
“It’s not your fault you guys have a habit of getting into impossible situations,” Bobby grunted. “John would count on me to take care of his boys.”
“Right, his incestuous boys.”
Bobby smiled. “Well, John would have thrown a fit, for sure. Probably would’ve left for a while, but don’t ever think he would have abandoned you for good. I mean… damn it, Sam, I’m not at ease with this, never will be, but I’ve thought about it, for a long time. Your father, he raised you in a way that you had to have each other’s backs, he taught you never to trust anyone except each other. The only freaking stability you had was one another. Now, I’m not a psychiatrist or some shit, but if you guys have this um… relationship, I can’t help but wonder how much John is responsible for it.”
Sam’s blush must have intensified, because now his ears were burning.
“This ain’t my business anyway. All I know, Sam, is that I don’t want the baby going through what you went through with being the Boy King and all that bullshit. I’m damn angry about what happened to Dean, and what it did to him. I’ve seen him broken before, especially when he learned about your demon blood and when his deal was coming due, but this is different. He’s suffering. You make him better, alright?”
“I will, promise,” Sam whispered.
“And I’m working on something right now. A spell to undo Dean’s curse for good. You guys can’t go through this again.”
“I know.”
“Okay. Now, where’s my whiskey?”
That had been that, but it had made Sam feel so much better. Bobby had already assured him that he would make sure none of what had happened would be known, in any way, in the hunter’s community. All Sam had to do was to take care of his family.
He would.
Sam went back inside to see if Dean was ready. His brother was just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. His every movement was slow, he was short of breath and so pale his freckles were more prominent than ever before.
He looked straight at Sam.
“Ready to go?”
Dean nodded. Sam had been honest with Rania. He didn’t think Dean was that angry at him, didn’t think that’s why he’d stopped talking. He knew he’d been wrong to try and hide the baby’s prognosis and he’d continuously apologized, but what Dean needed to do was to come to term with this, with all the fear and guilt that was choking him.
Sam took Dean’s arm firmly and Dean let him do it. He looked exhausted, ready to collapse. They walked slowly to the car, under the gloomy sky.
It took all of five minutes before Dean was asleep in the passenger seat.
Sam refused to feel defeated. The baby would be fine. Dean would be fine. Sam had never felt more determined in his whole life.
::: :::
Freeport, July 6
Sam had settled everything in the garden. There was a small rusty wrought-iron table he planned to restore eventually, Sumiko’s high chair had been brought out from the kitchen and Sam had found an old deckchair for Dean. They would celebrate Sumiko’s birthday as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. They'd been home for a little more than twenty-four hours and Dean had been… quiet -well, of course he had been, since he wouldn’t talk. Mostly he just seemed sleepy, lethargic. He’d answer Sam, though, in his own way, and didn’t look especially anxious or angry. Just… far away.
That morning, he’d asked Sam about Sumiko’s birthday by making the gesture of blowing candles. It was an almost childish gesture and that was what worried Sam. Dean’s apparent desire to communicate and his lack of… Deanness.
Give him some time, he told himself.
Dean fell asleep on the deckchair while waiting for Sumiko to wake up, protected from the sun by a large tree. He wore a white tee and washed-out pale jeans that just accentuated the pallor of his skin. Sam got everything ready, careful not to wake him up, filled with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.
Sumiko found it incredibly funny to be outside in her high-chair. She cooed and clapped her hands and laughed until Dean stirred awake. His first smile was for his daughter. It was a light, lazy one, and when Sam brought out the small cake he’d gotten at the grocery store, bringing it to the table and singing happy birthday at the top of his lungs to compensate for Dean’s silence, Sumiko’s mouth formed a stupefied “O” upon seeing the candle burning on top of the cake and his brother's eyes crinkled.
“You have to blow on the candle, baby,” Sam caught Sumiko’s hands before she could grab the small flame and made the blowing gesture with his mouth.
Sumiko opened her mouth obediently, then bent down to eat the candle. Sam blew it out for her just in time. Dean slowly stood up from his chair to teach Sumiko how to eat a birthday cake, shoving his finger in the pink icing and presenting it to her. She did the same for him, then offered Sam a handful of crushed cake. He barely tasted it with his lips as Dean rolled his eyes. He helped Sumiko to press the rest of the food all over Sam’s mouth and nose.
Sumiko burst out laughing, the way babies and toddlers do, with all of her body, her head tilted to the side. Sam grabbed some cake and smeared it on Dean’s cheek while Dean made a funny face at Sumiko.
Her laugh grew louder. She was craning over the side, with only the chair railings keeping her in place. Dean never really looked at Sam, but he smiled at Sue the whole time.
Sam took it as a victory.
Later, when Sumiko’s face - as well as both of theirs - had been cleaned and Sam had grabbed the gifts from inside, he went back to the garden to find that Dean had Sumiko with him on the deckchair. She was drinking milk from her sippy cup, her head resting on the top of Dean’s belly while he played with her hair. Sam didn’t have the heart to tell Dean he wasn’t supposed to lift their daughter. He just sat on the grass with them and helped Sumiko to open her presents. Ellen had bought her a small car she could ride on and push herself along with her feet. The colors were bright and there was a big horn on the wheel. Sumiko let Sam put her on it and then she wouldn’t get off, pressing the horn with enthusiasm. It was only normal that the doll Sam had asked Ellen to buy on his behalf didn’t have the same success, but he didn’t regret his choice. After all, Sue would be a big sister soon, and Sam had read that getting a doll was a good way to prepare a very young child for a new arrival.
Ignoring Dean’s indignant glare, Sam took the doll as if it was a precious little thing and held it out to Sumiko. “Look, Sumiko, a little baby. You gotta be careful with it,” he said in a quiet voice.
Sue grabbed the doll by the feet and made a shushing sound that had saliva flying everywhere. Then, she dropped it on the grass and rolled over it with her car.
Dean’s silent laugh made the thirty minutes Sam spent washing grass stains from the doll’s plastic head totally worth it.
It was a good day and gave Sam a lot of hope for the others to come.
::: :::
The rest of that first week following Dean’s return was quiet. Dean followed Rania’s instructions, took his meds, tried his best to eat and rested a lot. There was distance between Sam and him, as Sam had expected there to be, but Dean wasn’t exactly avoiding him - he just seemed trapped in his own mind most of the time. They would sleep together, but Dean would tense each time Sam got too close, so he gave him the space he seemed to need. As for the pregnancy, Rania had insisted that Dean should come back to her house immediately if he felt a lack or lessening in the baby’s movement, and Sam knew that Dean would make it known, one way or another. Time, Sam told himself again and again, give him time.
Sumiko was more problematic. The first few days after Dean’s return, she’d sometimes look at him with this funny expression on her face, like she wondered what was wrong with him. Then, suddenly, it was like she’d finally figured it out. One morning, as Dean was resting on the couch, she came to him and repeated his name again and again. Dean stretched out his arms to hold her, but she backed off and started screaming. “DAA-DEE-DEE!” stomping her feet on the floor, like maybe she thought that if she spoke loud enough, her dad would answer her.
Dean looked distressed. His mouth opened and closed several times. Frustration was perfectly readable on his face. Sumiko’s face was deep red and she was close to tears. On Dean’s second attempt to take her in his arms, she burst out crying and ran to Sam.
That day, Dean went upstairs and slept. When Sam tried to talk to him, minimizing the incident, his brother refused to look at him, didn’t even acknowledge him.
Everything started getting worse from that point on. Sumiko refused to let Dean take care of her. She’d ignore him most of the time and if when she let him take her in his arms, she was constantly looking for Sam. She started throwing fits of anger for no reason, refused to be put to sleep in her crib or left alone during her naps. Her behavior was hurting Dean and he became more withdrawn, which didn’t help.
On July 12th, they had an appointment with Rania. Dean was so nervous Sam had to stop the car on the way there for him to throw up on the side of the road. He was still sweating and shivering when he got on the exam table. Rania looked shocked to realize he still wasn’t speaking, but she didn’t mention it. She had weighed him and, although Dean hadn’t lost any more weight, he had only gained one pound. She insisted that he should eat more, which was kind of ironic as only a few weeks earlier she’d been worried about the fact that he was putting up too much weight.
Dean’s pneumonia had cleared up completely and she took him off the antibiotics and Salbutamol inhaler.
They were all nervous when Rania started the ultrasound. Sam had to put up with Sue, who was whining in his arms and refused to be put down, and so he couldn’t even be close to Dean to show his support.
It was a relief to see Angie moving on the screen. Her heartbeat was steady and the placental disruption, although still there, hadn’t worsened.
Taking the measurements, Rania announced that, even though the developmental delay was still apparent, Angie had started to grow again.
“That’s excellent news,” Rania told them, smiling widely.
Sam thought that maybe the results of the ultrasound would be the turning point in Dean’s mutism, but although he looked relieved, he didn’t say a word.
Rania told him that some moderate exercise would be all right at this point, but to continue avoiding anything too physical. The ride back home was strange, Sam talking almost constantly about the baby, how she would be fine, and Dean as well, and everything, really, while Dean looked out the window and Sumiko groaned, munching on the hand of her doll like she wanted to destroy it.
The next week was even worse. Dean was physically getting better, and as he did so, he became grumpy and impatient. Sumiko wouldn’t go near him if she could avoid it, and Sam could see it hurt him. He knew that his brother wanted to talk, just couldn’t, and it was heart breaking to watch him struggle.
At least Dean could start working on Angelia’s crib again, could walk on the beach, and didn’t need to sleep so much during the day, but it was a fissure in their family life: Sam and Sumiko on one side, Dean, struggling alone on the other.
Sam thought time could go fuck itself. This couldn’t last much longer. He would snap.
In the end, it was Sumiko who brought Dean back from whatever dark place he was stuck in.
::: :::
Freeport, July 19
It had been raining for two days and Sumiko’s mood suffered from it. She was already irritable and impatient, but being stuck inside seemed to take its toll on her.
After lunch, which she didn’t eat but threw all around her high chair, Sam let her play a little with her cardboard books in the living room before her nap. Dean was sitting on the couch, watching TV, not even trying to interact with her because he knew she would reject him. When Sam came in and told Sue it was time for her nap, she burst out crying, mumbling, “no-no-no!” and throwing her books around her.
Sam bent down to take her in his arms, but she threw herself on her belly, crying and screaming.
“Sumiko, enough. Time to nap. That’s it.” He said in a stern voice.
He kneeled next to her, but she twisted on the floor away from him, repeating “no” between angry sobs.
“That’s enough!” Sam repeated, impatient and tired of these constant fits.
Dean had witnessed the whole thing and was frowning at Sam. He got off the couch and slowly lowered himself until he was sitting on the floor. He started rubbing soothing circles on Sumiko’s back and, for a moment, she seemed to calm down. She lifted her head, face red and covered in tears and snot, and realized that it wasn’t Sam who was consoling her. She got on her hands and knees and yelled “no, daaa-deee”, scooting away from Dean as quickly as she could.
Dean grabbed her by the waist and took her in his arms nevertheless. She fought, twisting her body and screaming, literally, until she grabbed one of Dean’s arms and scratched the skin hard enough to draw blood.
Dean hissed and let go of her, looking shocked.
Enough, Sam thought, grabbing Sue and bringing her even with his face so she could see how serious he was. “Sumiko, we don’t hurt daddy,” he told her coldly even as she was wriggling in his arms to get free. “Time to nap. Behave yourself, young lady.”
Sam put Sue in her crib even though she was still crying and calling for him. He waited outside the room and, sure enough, her anger and agitation died down in less than five minutes. He felt guilty and he understood how hard it was for her to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few weeks.
Still, he held his own, even when she hiccupped his name softly. She needed her sleep and she needed to feel that someone -Sam - was still in control and would protect her from the chaos.
Sam waited a little longer, then cracked her door open. Sue was practically asleep, curled into a small ball, her thumb in her mouth, blinking lazily while tears dried on her cheeks. Of course, Sam felt like a bastard.
He sighed deeply and went back downstairs, dragging his feet, feeling like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Dean was nowhere to be seen.
Sam’s heart froze in his chest, so hard it actually hurt. He called his name, but his voice died down when he caught a glimpse of his brother outside the window.
Dean was down at the beach, in the pouring rain, on his knees.
Hitting the ground with his fists, wet sand flying around him.
“Damn it, Dean!” Sam groaned, running outside to him. He was barefoot, sliding on the muddy trail that led to the beach, swearing and cursing. The rain wasn’t really cold, but the drops seemed gigantic, hitting Sam’s face as he tried to see where he was going.
“Dean!” He yelled.
Dean kept hitting the sand with his right fist, his other hand had moved under his belly to support it.
Sam slid next to him and fell to his knees.
That’s when he heard the groans. They were barely audible, but they were there. Dean’s face was beet red, contorted with the effort to get them out.
“Dean, you gonna hurt yourself,” Sam said, trying to stop his arm mid-motion.
Dean pushed him away and stumbled to his side in the process. Sam crawled to him, trying to get him to calm down, but Dean kicked him with surprising strength for a pregnant man who had been half alive less than three weeks ago.
Sam took the hit in his lower belly and fell on his back, moaning in pain, but turned his head to keep an eye on Dean as he got back on his hands and knees.
“Calm down,” Sam choked, trying to catch his breath.
A very low growl escaped Dean’s contorted face. He was back on all fours, looking like he was about to puke. Instead, he took a long, shuddering breath and started screaming, a low, raw noise that grew louder and louder, so harsh, with so much pain in it, that Sam froze for a second. Then, he shook himself out of it and got closer, helping Dean by supporting his weight and keeping a hand on his back, feeling the strong tremors that were coursing through Dean’s body.
His brother didn’t pushed him away. He just kept on screaming, the sound fading as he became short of breath. “Come on, dude. It’s okay. We’re okay,” Sam coaxed, scared Dean would faint from lack of oxygen.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Sam, Dean hiccupped and started coughing. He wouldn’t look at Sam, kept his eyes on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Water was running through his hair, dripping down his face, from the tip of his nose and the lobes of his ears.
Sam knew enough not to worry that Dean might catch something staying out in the rain. Diseases were caused by viruses and bacteria, not from being out during a storm. Still, Dean was shivering and in distress, visibly exhausted.
“We should get inside.”
“Yeah,” Dean rasped. “Yeah, m’sorry.”
The wrong thing to do here would have been to answer with too much compassion, or seriousness, to say something like Hey! There you go, you’re talking again, good job!
So Sam just nodded and helped Dean up. They were both soaking wet and covered in sand. They stripped down to their boxers on the porch before going inside. Dean was shaking slightly but seemed solid enough on his feet for Sam to go fetch some towels and see if Sumiko was still sleeping.
He grabbed a glass of water for Dean and joined him in the living room. Dean was standing awkwardly, his hands wrapped around the pale skin of his belly, looking so vulnerable and lost Sam found it hard not to take him in his arms and just hold him. Instead, he gave him a towel and grabbed the old Impala’s blanket from under the couch. Once they were both kind of dry, Dean drank the water in one large gulp and all but stumbled to the couch, letting Sam sit next to him and draw the blanket over them both.
Dean didn’t look at him. His head was resting in one hand and he seemed to have drifted off, his eyes wide and glassy. He coughed a couple of times.
“That was stupid.” He croaked. “Sorry.”
“You okay?”
Dean laughed sarcastically. “Am I okay? My own daughter is so angry at me she won’t let me anywhere near her. So, no. Not okay.”
“She’s just angry because she doesn’t understand.”
“Yeah…” Dean murmured, still looking in the opposite direction of where Sam was sitting. “Fuck, I’m so messed up. I wanted to talk. It just wouldn’t come out. Each time, my mind went blank and I felt like I was going to have a freaking panic attack.”
“I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning, about Angie.”
Sam put his hand on Dean’s thigh. His brother tensed a little, but didn’t push him away.
“I’m not mad at you, Sam. Hell, I’d probably have done the same thing. I was angry, at first, but I get it, ya’ know. I was in bad shape. You didn’t want to make it worse.”
“Whoa. That’s… very mature of you.”
Dean snorted. “Wow. You seem surprised.”
“No, that’s not… I mean, I would’ve deserved it. Your anger. I was scared and I'd just gotten you back and-“
“I couldn’t protect her,” Dean cut him off, his voice shaking a little. “I mean, I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“Dean-“
“No, fuck let me finish. It’s… almost unbearable, thinking that she might not make it, after all she’s done for us. And it’s my fault, Sam, because I let that fucking bitch take me.”
Sam sighed. He'd known this was coming. It had only been a matter of time.
“She used a taser on you. She drugged you. You were six months pregnant and she wasn’t alone, she had a fucking spirit attached to her.”
Dean shrugged, visibly not convinced.
“You don’t understand. Charlotte’s spirit… It terrified me. I couldn’t… What she did… Okay, no, I don’t think I can talk about this now.”
“It’s okay.”
Dean looked at Sam for the first time since the beginning of their conversation. His chin was wobbling. “What if she doesn’t make it?”
“She’ll make it.”
Sam didn’t have to lie. He was convinced everything would be fine. He had thought about this for a long time.
“Listen to me, Dean. She knew what was going to happen. I don’t know how she did it, but she prepared herself. She prepared you.”
“What?”
“Her development was normal at the beginning of the pregnancy, then suddenly, she started to grow faster. She was three weeks ahead of the norm for a foetus of her stage. That's why when her development was jeopardized, she could afford a little holding back.”
“You serious?”
“Think about it. You were putting on weight despite barely eating anything but fruit and vegetables. Whatever you did, you kept getting bigger. Because you had to, because she knew you’d lose some when you got abducted.”
Dean’s eyes grew wider. Sam could tell he was getting through to him.
“Sam, that's…”
“What? Unbelievable? After witnessing what she did for Sumiko when she was choking, after she sent me a vision so that I’d be able to find you? Is this so farfetched?”
“No. It isn’t,” Dean murmured. “Still, the electric shock and the placenta…”
“So far, so good. Rania told us it was looking good. She’ll make it. She’ll be a healthy baby.”
“You sound so convinced.”
“Because I am.”
Dean yawned widely and it seemed like the tension that had been present in his body ever since they'd come back home receded a little.
“Still, I should’ve been able to-“
“Stop it. I know how you work, Dean. I know I won’t be able to convince you that none of this is your fault, but just try to look at it objectively. For me.”
“For you? You’re a sap, you know that.”
“Yeah, and I don't care.”
“Of course you don't, Samantha.”
Finally, finally, after three weeks, the atmosphere in the house seemed to lighten up all of a sudden.
“Whenever you're ready to tell me what happened to you, I’ll be ready to hear it.”
Dean rolled his eyes and settled more comfortably under the blanket, his cold feet brushing against Sam’s.
“Okay, Dr. Phil.”
“You should take a shower.”
“Yeah.”
“Together, maybe?”
A shadow passed over Dean’s face. “I… maybe another time, all right? I mean, I got sand in my asscrack. Not sexy at all,” he joked uneasily.
His attitude, the way he tensed each time Sam touched him, Sam guessed it had something to do with whatever Isabelle and Charlotte had done to him.
Sam didn’t insist. Dean was talking. He would tell him about it when he was ready. He followed after Dean and was barely out of the bathroom when he heard Sumiko cooing and babbling to herself from her room.
Dean was waiting nervously in front of her door, scratching the back of his head.
“Think I should go in?”
“Definitely.”
“She’s so angry at me,” Dean blushed.
“She’s just a little girl who misses her daddy.”
“Right…”
Dean pushed the door, Sam standing just behind him. Sumiko was standing up, her hair sticking up with static electricity, the imprint of her sheet on the side of her face. She had an enthusiastic smile that disappeared as soon as she saw Dean.
“Hey monkey, sleep well?”
Sumiko tilted her head and frowned.
“Wanna come with daddy? Get your diaper changed?”
Sue didn’t lift her hands, but she didn’t fight when Dean took her in his arms. She saw Sam behind him and cooed his made up name, smiling all over again.
Sam backed off a little as Dean settled Sumiko on the changing table. She went very quiet, but locked her eyes with Dean’s similar ones.
“Okay let’s do this,” Dean said, his voice shaking a little as he unsnapped Sumiko’s jumpsuit. “Yeah, definitely need a change, you little stinky ball.”
Sumiko raised one hand and, without saying a word, made her hi/bye sign to Dean. Sam could see Dean’s shoulders relaxing as he stepped out of the room completely, but remained close enough to hear his brother speaking softly to Sue when he thought Sam couldn’t hear him anymore.
“… Dad’s been a jerk to you, m’sorry, baby. I know, you've got every right to be mad at me. M’sorry I wasn’t there for you. M’sorry you got hurt… Dad loves you, you know that, right? M’not going away, ever again.”
Sam was torn between relief and sadness, hearing Dean apologizing for something he'd had no control over, but at least he was talking again and Sumiko, even if she wasn’t quite sure of what was going on, wasn't rejecting him.
This, this was the beginning of the healing. Of their healing, as a family.
Chapter 14