These Days (5/9)

[moogsthewriter]

Title: These Days
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, family, h/c
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for 3.16. AU after that.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: This is the sequel to "One Hundred Nine Hours and Thirteen Minutes." I'd recommend reading that first if you haven't. Also, this was written in the summer and was completed before Season 4 ever aired. (Also written without ever looking at any spoilers for Season 4.) Partly journal, partly third person POV.
Notes the second: I'm horrible, I know. I'm sorry I keep forgetting to update this. *facepalm*

Summary: The path to recovery is more like a winding mountain road. Post 3.16, AU Season 4.

( Day 1 ) | ( Day 6 )| ( Day 15 )| ( Day 19 )

 

Day 26

It wasn’t worth it.

Dean never should have traded himself for me. The consequences of his stay in Hell… saving me just wasn’t worth what he went through.

Sometimes I wonder if he feels the same way. I mean… I guess I don’t see Dean acting like he feels that way, but I’m still a little worried. Does Dean still think it was worth it?

He’s just so broken. It’s frustrating – I just want things to go back to the way they were. Hell, as long as I’m wishing, I wish things could go back to the way they were when I was about… ten. Before I decided to question instead of merely follow Dad’s orders. Back when we were still truly a united front – all three of us.

I wish Mom never had to die for me.

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t ever born. Then Dean and Dad could’ve had a chance at a normal life. And Mom and Jess would still be alive.

But wishing doesn’t get me anywhere, I suppose. All I can do is try and bring Dean back as much as possible. Dad always said actions were louder than words. And he was right – bringing Dean back isn’t going to happen if I don’t try and do something about it.

There’re definitely signs of him coming back – like when I mentioned hunting at Stanford. Before, I never would have mentioned it because I knew Dean would jump all over my ass and try and figure out if I had been wounded – and then would’ve felt extremely guilty when he found out that the poltergeist got a lucky hit with a gigantic dictionary. I thought Jess and Beck were both going to puke when they saw the way my arm bent.

But I did mention it now – just to see if that Dean would come back. And he did – mostly. As well as could be expected, I guess.

But… there’s still a long ways to go. Like the fact that Dean actually talked about his experiences without me repeatedly asking. Actually, I had never asked at all – I guess I wanted to know… but not that badly.

Or the fact that we practically hugged for like half an hour before Dean really noticed anything. Or the fact that he didn’t pull away right away. Before, Dean wouldn’t have stood for even a minute of that.

We’re getting there, I guess. It’s gonna be a long road, but we’re getting there.

But even if Dean gets… “normal” again… I still don’t think it’s gonna be worth it. Not for what he went through. And definitely not for what he got out of the deal.

 

“SAM!”

Sam sat up straight in his hotel bed, his heart racing at the terrified scream. His glance shot towards the other bed as he hurriedly flicked on the light between the beds, and his eyes widened.

“Dean!”

Dean’s back was arched in his bed, his head thrust back into the pillow. His mouth was still open in a silent scream, his hands scrabbling at the sheets frantically as he gasped for air. Veins bulged in his neck, and sweat and tears streamed down his cheeks.

Sam immediately moved out of his own bed to his brother’s side. His hands hovered just above Dean’s shoulders uncertainly. “Dean, wake up! Dean, I’m right here!”

Dean whimpered, his head twisting further in the pillow as his back arched even higher – almost as if he was trying to get away from something. “Sammy…”

Sam’s jaw set in resolution. In one swift movement, he looped one hand under his brother’s shoulders, lifted Dean’s upper body, and slid onto Dean’s bed, adjusting their respective positions so that Dean was mostly in his lap, his brother’s shoulders pressing into his chest. “Dean! Dean, please, wake up!”

Dean’s back suddenly dropped onto Sam’s legs and stomach, and his arms and fingers went limp as his eyes shot open. Sam barely managed to suppress a wince as the impact jarred his lower back. Dean’s head tipped back and the bright green orbs shot around frantically before resting on his brother’s face. “Sammy?” he gasped between pants, his chest heaving under his sweat-soaked t-shirt.

Sam nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat as he wrapped his arms firmly around his brother’s shoulders, readjusting Dean slightly so he would be more comfortable. Dean resisted for a brief moment before slumping back against Sam, his head dropping limply to Sam’s shoulder. “It was just a dream. Just a dream,” the elder hunter breathed, his eyes sliding closed.

Sam swallowed as tears dripped onto his own t-shirt. “I’m right here, Dean. We’re both okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

After a moment, Dean shook his head weakly. “No, I’m not,” he whispered.

Sam felt his stomach clench violently at the brokenness in his brother’s whisper. “But you will be.”

Dean’s shoulders shuddered beneath Sam’s firm grip. “I don’t know, Sammy. I just – I can’t – the nightmares…”

“Trust me, Dean. It’s going to take awhile. But I’m gonna make you okay, okay?” Sam replied, tipping his head so he could rest his chin on the top of Dean’s head. “We can get through this.”

They sat in silence for a little while, Dean’s panicked gasps fading away until he was breathing in tandem with Sam. Just when Sam thought Dean had dozed off, the elder Winchester spoke up in a throaty murmur.

“There wasn’t… there was nothing there, Sam. Just me. In this void. I was all alone.”

Sam closed his eyes, fighting back tears as he remembered the sight of his brother straining against the hooks and chains digging into his flesh… the terrified screams for help… He didn’t respond; he merely tightened his hold on his brother, trying to reaffirm his presence – although he wasn’t sure how much closer he could get to Dean than he already was.

“An’ I tried… I tried to remember,” Dean continued, his voice cracking as his body shivered again. “God, I tried so hard… to remember who I was… what I did… anything… anything to keep me human. But… I just… I couldn’t… it felt like I had been there for an eternity… maybe a couple. The only thing I could remember… the only thing I could say was–”

“My name,” Sam finished in a whisper.

Dean nodded, his head rubbing against Sam’s chin. “I couldn’t even remember my name. And then… then I felt you grab me, but… I thought I was just imagining things… and then I remembered… sort of… what happened… and I thought…” He trailed off, his hands reaching up to grip Sam’s forearms in a painful hold as if he still needed reassurance that his younger brother was really there. “I thought… I thought – convinced myself you’d died, and that I was just hoping that you were there…”

“You’re okay, Dean. You’re safe now,” Sam murmured as a fine trembling took hold of Dean’s body. He continued to murmur reassurances, his voice fading out as Dean gradually relaxed again.

After a long moment, Dean shifted slightly and grunted. “Dude… are we cuddling?”

Sam chuckled, able to picture the look on his brother’s face even if he wasn’t looking directly at him. “I guess we are.”

“Well this is a little awkward,” Dean muttered. Sam sighed silently, recognizing Dean’s attempt at humor for what it was – an attempt. A thinly veiled attempt, nearly shattered the by the subtle tremor in his brother’s voice, but still an attempt.

Dean was coming back.

“I guess you’ll just have to get over it for the moment,” the younger Winchester replied finally, shifting slightly to ease the pull on the stitches in his lower back. “I don’t feel like moving.”

There was silence for a moment. Finally Dean murmured, “Love you, too, Sammy.”

Sam swallowed, giving his brother’s shoulders a firm squeeze. After a while, he murmured, “Did I ever tell you I first met Jess while tracking down an Imp?”

Dean’s body tensed with surprise, and he jerked his head out from under Sam’s chin so he could look up at his brother. “You hunted at Stanford?”

Sam shrugged, tipping his head back against the headboard. “Minor things, mostly. A few Imps – I think there was a group of them living on campus. I never found their nest, but I think it may have been in one of the boiler rooms underground. There was a Nymph that tried to live in the pool for a week.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And two spirits and a poltergeist in a house outside Palo Alto.”

Dean shot up at that, shifting over to the other side of the bed and twisting around to look at Sam, his eyes wide. “Wait… that was you?”

Sam cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Dean swallowed, a chagrined look crossing his face. He rubbed his neck for a moment before admitting, “I checked that house out. You must’ve beat me to it by only a day or two – by the time I got there, there was no activity of any kind – just a crap hole of a house. I thought it was just a hoax, ‘specially since Bobby hadn’t heard of anyone tracking that hunt down.” His eyes narrowed. “What the hell were you doing there on your own?”

Sam’s lips tilted in a lopsided grin. “Jess, Becky, Zach, and a few others wanted to check it out – see if they could last the night.”

“So you went in with a buncha civilians and took care of business,” Dean finished, crossing his arms. He shook his head and chuckled exasperatedly. “You can take the boy out of the hunt…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam replied. He ducked his head and chuckled. “I nearly scared Jess to death the first time I saw her,” he finally continued, moving so he was on his own bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers twining together subconsciously. “It was the second semester of my sophomore year. The Imp had been messing around in my dorm – actually took some of my stuff. I followed it to the gym. It, uh… it disappeared in the girls’ locker room.”

Dean laughed at that, moving so that his feet were millimeters from Sam’s on the floor between their beds. “Thatta boy, Sammy.”

Sam smirked, glancing up at Dean through the fringe of his hair. “I’d been kinda debating on whether or not to go in when Jess suddenly walked out. She was on the volleyball team at the time, and she was just leaving practice.” Sam smiled, his eyes taking on a far-away look as he remembered. “She was wearing these really short spandex shorts and a really tight-fitting cut-off tank-top. We kinda stared at each other for a moment before she finally said, ‘Hey, you’re in my calc class, right?’ Then she asked if I could help her pass the next test… and it kinda went from there.”

“Oh my God,” Dean breathed, causing Sam’s head to jerk up so he could stare at his brother, who had a faintly horrified look on his face. “You really are a nerd! Your first date with Jess was a study session? I thought I taught you better than that!”

Sam pulled a face and sat back on his bed. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Make me, bitch,” Dean shot back, smirking as he lay back down on his own bed. Sam clicked the light until there was only one bulb lit. He rolled over and reached down into the duffle bag that was lying next to his bed. His probing fingers collided with cool leather a moment later, and he pulled out his journal.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam glanced back over his shoulder as Dean’s eyes slid closed. “Get some sleep, man.”

Dean kept his eyes closed, but smirked faintly. “That may be difficult, seeing as how I will probably now have nightmares of studying with a really hot girl,” he muttered.

Sam couldn’t hold back a small grin. “Well, if you wanted, I could tell you about the time Jess –”

“Dude, I really don’t think I want to hear it. It would be nice to keep my dinner down, thanks,” Dean cut in, his voice soft as he drifted off to sleep again.

Sam chuckled as he rolled back over, his journal firmly in his hand. He watched for awhile as Dean gradually slipped back into a light doze before pulling out his pen.

It wasn’t worth it.