No Ordinary Boys ~ Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Sam woke up after only a few hours, it just didn't feel right sleeping without Dean. He felt alone, like a part of him was missing. He tried just watching Dean sleep, hoping that if he was able to see his brother then he wouldn't feel so alone but it was no good. Even from the other side of the room, Sam could tell that Dean was still running a fever so he couldn't just climb into bed with him like he wanted to, but he couldn't sleep this far away from him either.
Gathering up his blanket and a pillow, Sam made a makeshift bed on the floor beside Dean's. It wasn't comfortable but it was close to Dean and that's what mattered. Reaching up, Sam took a hold of one of Dean's hands, holding it tightly and he sighed in relief when he felt that even though Dean's skin still felt hot, it was definitely cooler. Dean was gonna be okay. Sam smiled and fell asleep still clutching his brother's hand in his.
Sam was cold, and the light was so dim that he could hardly see but he kept moving along the darkened hallways. His whole body ached and the air around him felt thick, like it was coated with something evil and Sam found it hard to breathe.
"Dean!" he shouted but there was no response, just an all consuming silence that filled every inch of Sam with terror.
He continued to move forward and instantly froze in fear when he heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him. His heart was pounding so hard that his whole in chest hurt, and he watched with wide eyes as a figure began to appear. The figure's movements were jerky and fast, and their eyes seemed to be glowing a bright disturbing yellow. Sam wanted to run but he couldn't seem to make his legs work, he was rooted to the spot and the figure was getting closer and closer.
"Dean!" he screamed, praying that his brother would somehow hear him.
His scream earned a chuckle from the figure and it stopped just in front of him. "Hi ya, Sammy."
Sam flinched when it said his name. "Who...who are you?" he stammered.
"An old friend." The yellow eyed man looked Sam up and down. "Just thought I'd stop by and check on my investment."
"Wh...what?"
The figure laughed again. "Nothing for you to worry about right now. Like I said, I'm just checking on you." The man's lips turned up into cruel smile. "Oh, and I also wanted to give you a glimpse of the fun to come."
The man clicked his fingers and a blinding light filled the hallway, when it died down the figure was gone, leaving Sam stood in the now brightly lit hallway. Once his eyes had adjusted to the change in light, he realised that just up ahead someone was laying on the floor. No, not someone. Dean. It was Dean.
Sam rushed over, falling to his knees besides his brother's unmoving form. "No! Dean!" Dean was covered in blood, a huge gash running across his stomach and his eyes were wide open, but they were clouded over, lifeless. There was blood trickling from his ears and mouth, and there was another deep cut along his throat.
"No, no, no, no" Sam chanted over and over as he desperately tried to wake his brother. "Dean, Please. Dean! No, no, no! Wake up!" He sobbed and pleaded but Dean remained still. There was another sudden flash of light and then another figure was in the hallway with them but unlike the man, this was a figure Sam instantly recognised.
"Mom?"
His mom smiled sadly down at him before fixing her gaze on Dean's bloodied and broken body.
"Help him," Sam begged.
His mom shook her head, kneeling down beside him and reaching out to softly touch his cheek. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"Please!" Sam cried. "Do something. Help him."
"I can't save him, Sam," she said, sadly. "Only you can do that."
"What?"
His mom pulled him closer, cupping his face gently in her hands. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Sam." She placed a kiss on his forehead. "It's time to wake up now."
Sam shot blot upright, panting heavily as his eyes flew wildly around the room. He was on the floor next to Dean's bed. Dean! Sam scrambled to his feet and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his sleeping and very much alive brother. His cheeks were still rosy with fever and sweat beaded on his brow, but there was no blood or slash marks marring his skin.
Sam tried to convince himself that it had just been a bad dream but it had felt so real. It wasn't the first time he had dreamt of his mother, although it had been the first time she'd spoken to him. Sam shivered as he remembered the yellow eyed man. Sometimes in his visions, he saw people who had black eyes and things that didn't look human, but he had never seen anything with yellow eyes and just thinking about the man filled Sam with terror. What if his dream was real? What if the yellow eyed man was coming to get Dean? He had to do something, he couldn't let Dean die.
"Don't worry, De," Sam whispered, giving his brother's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll keep you safe."
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Sam made his way downstairs and began searching through the cupboards for what he needed. He smiled when his hand closed around the container of salt. In one of his visions he'd watched a woman place lines of salt across all the windows and doors of the room she was hiding in. The salt had stopped the scary looking black eyed man that was hunting her from getting in. Her mistake had been thinking that the thing had left and breaking the salt line when she opened the door to check. Sam's vision had shown him in gruesome detail how the black eyed man had tore her apart.
Grabbing the salt, Sam hurried back upstairs. He hoped that if the salt could keep the black eyed man away then the same would apply for yellow eyed one from his dream. He was just laying the first salt line down across the bedroom window when a voice from behind him made him jump, and he dropped the container of salt to the floor.
"Sam?"
Sam swung round to see John stood in the doorway, his head titled in confusion as he looked from Sam, to the salt and then back to Sam again.
"What you doing, buddy?"
"I wasn't stealing it," Sam babbled quickly, trying to stop his hands from shaking.
John noticed the trembling and gave him a reassuring smile. "Its okay, Sam. I'm not mad. I'm just wondering what you're doing."
"I needed it," Sam replied, his voice quiet and wary.
"The salt?"
Sam nodded.
"Why?"
Sam looked at Dean for a few moments before focusing his attention back on John. "For protection. To keep Dean safe."
John furrowed his brow. He'd seen a lot of strange protective behaviour from the foster kids he and Mary had taken in, but salt? Well, that was definitely a new one.
"I'm not crazy," Sam stated when John didn't reply.
John couldn't help but smile. "I never said you were, kiddo. Do you want to tell me how the salt is supposed to protect you?"
Sam just shrugged. He couldn't tell John the truth. Even if he believed Sam, it wouldn't end well. It certainly hadn't when he'd tried to tell his dad about his visions. "I don't know. It just does."
John nodded, knowing that whatever this was, he wasn't going to be getting anymore out of Sam tonight. "Okay, well it's kinda late and you should be sleeping. So what do you say we leave the salt for now and get you back to bed?" That's when John noticed the blanket and pillow on the floor next to Dean's bed. "You were sleeping on the floor?"
"I wanted to be closer to Dean," Sam admitted, quietly.
John smiled sadly. "I understand that but I don't think Dean will be very happy if he wakes up and finds out you've been sleeping on the hard floor all night, will he?"
Sam shook his head.
"Okay, so let's get you tucked back up in a proper bed, alright?"
"Okay."
John picked up the pillow and blanket from the floor and ushered Sam back over to his bed. "Right, now try and get some more sleep, okay?"
"What's going on?"
John turned around, surprised to find Dean up out of bed, leaning heavily on the bedside table.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing, kid?" John quickly grabbed a hold of Dean's arm when he swayed unsteadily. "You're sick. You shouldn't be out of bed."
"Me? What the hell are you doing?" Dean meant for his voice to sound firm and threatening but it came out small and raspy. He'd woken up to find John looming over Sam's bed and he was up on feet before he even had time to think about it.
"Your brother woke up. I was just settling him back into bed, that's all," John said, gently guiding Dean back towards his own bed but Dean shrugged out of his hold.
"Sammy, you okay?"
Sam nodded. "I'm fine, Dean."
Dean noticed the salt on the floor and quirked an eyebrow at his brother. "You sure?"
"I'm alright. I promise."
"Okay, well now we know everyone's alright, let's get back into bed shall we?" John once again nudged Dean towards his bed.
"Alright, I'm going. I'm going," Dean grumbled as he shuffled back into bed.
"Thank you," John said and he picked up the salt container from the floor. "Get some sleep, boys, and we'll talk about this some more in the morning."
As soon as John shut the door behind him, Dean sat himself up in bed. "Sam, you okay? What's going on?"
"I'm okay, Dean," Sam assured. "Just had a bad dream."
Dean immediately made room for Sam in his bed and lifted the covers in invitation. "C'mere kiddo."
Sam shook his head. "No, you're sick. I don't wanna make you worse."
"You won't. I'm feeling loads better." Okay, loads was stretching the truth a bit but he wasn't feeling like he was going to die anymore, and anyway Sam needed him and that's all that mattered. "Come on, Sammy."
Sam was wrapped in his arms just seconds later and Dean smiled until his felt the tremors racking Sam's frame. "Hey, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Bad dream." Sam sniffled, burrowing further into Dean's chest.
"That why you got the salt?"
Sam nodded. "Wanted to keep you safe."
Dean wasn't sure what to make of Sam's whole monsters are real theory. Most of Sam's visions didn't feature any kind of monsters or creatures but there were few times where Sam had insisted he had seen something that couldn't have been human. The detail in which Sam would describe the things he'd seen made it hard not to believe him, but he had yet to see anything non human himself. The whole salt thing had also come from a vision and it wasn't unusual for Sam to want to salt the windows and doors after a particularly disturbing vision or nightmare.
"John caught me. I think he thinks I'm crazy now."
Dean ran his hand soothingly up and down Sam's arm. "Don't worry about it. I'll talk to him in the morning."
"What you gonna say?"
"I'll think of something." Dean assured. "You wanna tell me about your dream?"
Dean rubbed comforting circles on his brother's back when he felt Sam tense up. "Shhh, it's alright."
"You got hurt." Sam whimpered. "Really bad."
"It was just a dream," Dean soothed. "I'm fine, Sammy."
"It felt real," Sam whispered. "I saw Mom. She spoke to me."
Dean felt his heart twist painfully at the mention of their mom and he had to try to keep his voice steady. "Yeah? What did she say?"
"That she was sorry for what she did to me," Sam replied, clutching the fabric of Dean's top tightly. "What do you think she meant by that?"
"It was just a dream, kiddo," Dean said. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."
Sam sighed. "John took the salt. I can't make the room safe anymore."
"You don't need to. I'm here and I won't let anything bad happen, okay?"
"Can I sleep here tonight? I know you're still sick but I..."
"Shhh," Dean hushed. "Of course you can sleep here."
Dean moved them around in the bed so Sam was on the side nearest the wall, and he smiled as Sam snuggled down into his arms. "Go to sleep now, Sammy," he whispered and he gently ran is fingers through Sam's hair until his breathing evened out and his brother fell to sleep. As he watched him sleep peacefully, Dean was reminded of the first time he slept with Sam in his arms like this.
Dean squirmed around under the scratchy motel blankets. This wasn't his bed and no matter how much he tried he just couldn't get comfortable. He missed his bed, his house and more than anything he missed his mommy. It had been two days now since Daddy had told him his mommy was never coming back. Two days since his daddy had taken him and baby Sammy from their home and brought them here. He didn't understand it and he didn't like it. The room they were staying in was dark and smelt weird, and the only things in the room were two beds, a beat up old couch and a television.
Dean sniffled unable to stop the tears from falling. He wanted his mommy but no matter how much he cried, prayed or begged she wouldn't come back. Nothing felt right anymore, he was scared and he needed his mommy to make it better.
A soft cry from the other bed caught Dean's attention and his eyes landed on his baby brother, who was wriggling around unhappily in the middle of the bed. When they had first arrived here, his daddy had just dumped Sammy on the bed and left him, Dean was worried that baby Sammy might fall off, so he had bunched the blankets up in the middle of the bed to form a kind of makeshift cot. Sammy had been sleeping peacefully but he was now awake, wriggling around as his cries for attention got louder and louder.
Dean glanced over at where his daddy was slumped on couch watching TV. He was sure any second now his dad would get up and answer Sammy's cries, but his dad didn't move, he just sat there drinking from the bottle that always made him smell funny. As baby Sammy's cries turned into wails, Dean frowned, his mommy would never leave Sammy to cry this long. Why wasn't his daddy doing anything? Unable to just ignore his brother's obvious distress, Dean clambered out of his bed and padded over to the couch.
"Daddy?" he asked, his tone cautious. His daddy had been angry a lot lately and Dean didn't want to get shouted at.
His dad didn't answer, didn't even turn to look at him, he just stared blankly ahead at the TV.
"Daddy?" Dean tried again and this time he reached out to place a small hand on his dad's arm. "Daddy, Sammy is crying."
His dad roughly shrugged Dean's hand off him. "Go away."
"But Daddy, the baby..."
"Leave me alone," his dad snapped and took another long drink from the bottle in his hand.
"Daddy, baby Sammy needs..."
Dean words were cut off when his dad's hand suddenly swung out and smacked him hard across the mouth, the force of the strike sending him falling backwards and onto his butt.
"I said go away!" his dad snarled before turning his attention back to the TV.
Dean sat on the floor in shock. What did he do wrong? Why did his daddy hit him like that? Couldn't his daddy hear baby Sammy's cries? He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, trying not to cry when he tasted the blood from where his dad had split his lip. He carefully stood back up and on shaky legs he made his way over to his now screaming baby brother.
"Shhh. its okay, Sammy." Dean gently gathered the baby into his arms and Sam instantly grabbed a hold of Dean's pyjama top with his chubby little hands.
"I gotcha," Dean soothed, trying to rock the baby in his arms the same way he had seen his mommy do. "Shhh, Shhh."
Once baby Sammy's cries had died down to the occasional hiccup, Dean carefully carried him over to his own bed and placed him softly on the side nearest the wall, before climbing up beside him and curling his body protectively around the small form.
"Don't cry, Sammy," he hushed. "I'm gonna take care of you."
Baby Sam made a soft snuffling sound as he snuggled closer to Dean.
"Go to sleep now, Sammy." Dean glanced over at his dad's slumped form and tears welled up in his eyes at the memory of his dad's hand hitting him but Dean didn't let them fall. He had to be strong now. He had to look after baby Sammy. Dean smiled down at the now sleeping baby and gently placed a kiss on his head. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll protect you."
Dean smiled, pulling Sam closer to him. "I'll always protect you."
Chapter 10