Well, I'm back. Been off the sight awhile...Here's my newest story. Hope you like it.

<_<
:lol:

I’m Sorry



By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N – Well, this is just something to occupy my mind while the show is on hiatus. I am bummed. So I decided to do my own take on what could happen right after Lucifer rises. Hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. Thanks to Chris for my awesome story banner. Girl- you rock!

– Denise-

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Summary: Sam is overwrought with grief as he watches the bright yellow glow of light, one thought repeats itself over and over in his head – Oh my god - I did this! A limp Sam, big brother Dean Story.

Chapter One

Dean starts forward pulling out the knife, as Ruby stands.

“You’re too late,” she says.

“I don’t care,” Dean growls, and raises his arm.

Just as Ruby is about to move, Sam grabs her arms from behind, keeping her still and Dean stabs here in the stomach. She falls to the ground, dead.

Dean slowly raises his eyes to look at Sam.

Sam looks back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says.

At that moment, a light suddenly appears in the middle of the circle of blood, and the circle begins to turn. The boys watch in horror. Dean slowly raises his hand and grabs Sam’s jacket, just as Sam reaches for his.

“Sammy, let’s go, “Dean says.

“Dean,” Sam says weakly, “He’s coming.”

The boys hold onto each other as the light burns brighter. Lucifer is rising.

The next moments are a blur. Dean feels Sam’s fingers clutching at him tighter as his little brother seems to shake violently from fear. Dean knows they need to move, but he is momentarily mesmerized by the bright white glow of light. Is this the end? Where are the freak’n angels?

Suddenly the building seems to sway, cracking and moaning in the mayhem. The light beam grows larger and brighter and Dean’s mind finally springs back into action. crap, got to get Sam out of here.

“Move Sam, MOVE!” Dean yells above the rumbling of falling debris. He grips Sam tighter and nudges him forward with excessive force.

Sam stumbles, but stays spellbound, eyes staring blankly into the amber glow of light.

Dean clutches at Sam’s shoulders, giving him a little shake.

“Sammy?”

He can feel Sam’s body shuddering beneath his hands. He darts concerned green eyes up to look at Sam’s face, realizing immediately that something is going on with his little brother. Sam is too pale, sweat beaded up against his forehead, hair sticking wayward and wild around his eyes. His pupils are wide and unfocused and his breath is coming out in tiny little gasps. Dean isn’t sure if his brother is afraid, or in shock, either way, they need to move their asses, now.

Dean grabs Sam’s jacket with both hands and jerks him forward just as the room begins to sway. The light is now a dark tawny color, as the building begins to roar and moan. The air is thick and stagnant as time seems to suddenly just stand still. But, Dean is relentless as he pushes and shoves his staggering little brother toward the door. “Jesus, Sammy, move faster,” he screams above the howl.

The ceiling begins to reign down upon them, Dean’s hands flailing up to cover his face. He glances at Sam and realizes that he is not doing anything, just staggering along in a daze. He reaches forward, grabs Sam’s large hands and places them up across his head.

“Cover your head Sam,” Dean yells.

Sam just stares at him blankly, letting his hands fall limply back against his sides.

Dean pushes him forward. crap, this is bad.

The large boulders and beams slam against the floor, crashing and thudding down around them. Windows crack as the screeching sound escalates to a fevered pitch, a low moan inside the bright red light that is rising to an ear shattering decimal. Dean’s hands press against his ears to shield them from the loud noise. “Sam, cover your ears,” he yells. But Sam does nothing, just looks wide eyed back at Dean, “Jesus, run Sam, run.”

The roar of the room seems to drown out any words that Dean may be yelling. Sam can see his brother’s lips move, but, it is like everything is going in slow motion for him. He is so scared. I did this I opened up the gate for Lucifer to raise up from hell. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. He can’t breath, his chest constricting so tightly that he knows he’s going to die from lack of oxygen. He pants to pull in air. Ruby lied, Ruby lied, she lied, I trusted her, she lied… He stumbles forward when he feels Dean give him another hard shove. Dean was right, Dean was right. Ruby’s words ring inside his head mocking him, suffocating him. You did this, you opened the door. He’s free at last. And it is written…that the first demon shall be the last seal. He glances back over his shoulder, eyes dark, and wide with fear. It was you, Sam, you’re choices – I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path. Every time! You didn’t need the feather to fly – you had it in you the whole time, dumbo. He feels Dean’s fingers gripping his arm, holding him steady as the room rocks around them. He stops abruptly; eyes staring fixedly back at Ruby’s dead body, his mind racing with her words. The humming noise is growing louder, and it feels like his ears are bleeding from the sound. He can’t breath, he can’t move. He did this. He feels Dean shoving at him, pushing, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of the light, or Ruby, or what he’s done. This is a miracle! So long in coming. Everything Azazel did, and Lillith did, just to get you here! And you were the one who could do it! His sluggish mind is barely making out his older brother’s words as he stumbles forward. “…over your ears, run Sam run…” It had to be you, Sammy, it was always you. You saved us, you set him free! Sam stumbles again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The words roll unconsciously off his lips as he is barreled through the doorway, Dean shuffling along behind.

Dean can barely hear Sam above the roaring noise, but he makes out the low whimpered words that his little brother seems to be mumbling to himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Oh God, this is such a freaking mess…Sam’s a mess…how did I let this happen? Where are the freaking angels?

A large explosion from behind them rocks the building, the room bathed in a red fireball of light.

Sudden realization that the roof is caving in sends Dean diving for his brother in one swift motion, barreling them both uncoordinatedly beneath a wooden pew. He vaguely feels Sam’s shuddering next o him as St. Mary’s Covenant shatters loudly toward the ground. A large weight plummets down upon him, and he gasps against the pain. He can’t feel Sammy anymore, as the darkness takes him down.

;)
:cheer

Chapter Two

Bobby Singer paces the length of his living room, eyes scanning his many books and manuals on the supernatural. Where the hell did Dean go, one minute he’s here, the next he’s gone. Damn angels. He sighs loudly and yanks the ball cap from his thinning hair. Lot of good these damn books do me if I can’t even help my boys. It breaks his heart to see the Winchester brothers in such a state as they are right now. Sam addicted to demon blood and listening to the ranting of that stupid bitch Ruby, and Dean, ready to just throw in the damn towel, writing Sam off as no longer being his little brother. How the hell did things get so out of control?

A sudden rustling behind him and he spins around, eyes glaring at the rain-coat shrouded man. His fingers hastily grip at the 45 tucked neatly in his waistband, eyes scanning the dark haired intruder standing just in front of him. Dean said Castiel dressed like Colombo? Well holy crap, an angel in the flesh.

“You need to get to St. Mary’s Convent in Ilchester, Maryland right now!” the angel says abruptly as he looks with steel blue eyes at Bobby. He raises his palm open toward the hunters face.

Bobby takes a step backwards, eyes glaring at the so called angels face. “Castiel, I presume.”

Castiel nods slightly, a small smile curling to his lips.

Bobby eases his fingers away from his hand gun as he gives the wrinkle clad angel an assessing look. Humph, you think angels would look, well, more angelic.

“Listen, I would love to stay and chat you up, but Dean and Sam are in trouble and you need to get to the church right now. You must go, now!” Castiel states anxiously.

Bobby’s eyes widen. “Now how do you suppose I get from my house here all the way to Maryland right now?” Uh oh, didn’t Dean say the angel took him back in time.

Castiels hand rises again as he steps forward in one swift motion. His palm rests quickly against Bobby’s forehead.

All of a sudden Bobby is bathed in a white light and a blur of nothingness. Ears ringing, he blinks to get his bearings. What the crap? His vision clears and he realizes he is no longer in his living room, but standing in front of a pile of rubble, a burned out building with black smoke bellowing up, the fresh scent of burning wood and ash assaulting his tender senses. He blinks at the old church sign indicating he is indeed at St. Mary’s Convent. The devastation grips him tightly as adrenaline pumps wildly through his veins. He darts forward, one thing on his mind. Where are my boys?

“DEAN…SAM…where are you? He yells loudly. Silence greeting his ears.

Stumbling through the rubble, Bobby’s worry escalates. This looks like a bomb went off. He lets his eyes scan the debris scattered floor, beams, rocks, crosses, and church pews all strewn around and dropped like a tornado had hit the tiny structure.

“DEAN?” he yells louder as he begins to physically move the remains aside, eyes scouting and looking for any sign of Dean or Sam.

It’s then that he sees it, the familiar denim jacket the Dean likes so much to wear, the one he had on earlier today at Bobby’s house. His heart thuds loudly in his ears as he recognizes the arm that is flailed up and out from under one end of a church pew, buried beneath a large mound of rubble. The senior hunter rushes forward, feet barely scuffing the ground as he runs toward the wayward limb. Squatting down immediately, Bobby's fingers dig and grab, move and shuffle. The rock and wood fling and fly off of the unconscious body.

“Dean, you with me boy?” the older hunter whispers as he continues to move debris away.

Dean grimaces.

Halfway uncovered, Bobby recognizes Dean’s struggles to wake up.

“Dean, open your eyes, come on.” Bobby encourages as he continues to move objects off of Dean’s lax body.

The older hunter is rewarded when the sandy haired kid rolls his head over and blinks open sluggish green eyes to gaze up at him.

“Dean?”

“B...b’by?” Dean gasps out as he looks blankly up at the older man. “Where…what’s go’n on?”

“Easy there kid, you had half a church on top of you.”

Bobby brushes the remaining debris off of Dean and grips him tightly by the arm. “What’s hurt’n? Can you set up?”

Dean blinks wide eyed, sudden recognition dawning on his face. Holy crap, where’s Sam? “Wh’rs Sammy?” He grimaces as a sharp pain penetrates his chest and his hands flail around for purchase. He has to find Sam.

Bobby grips the young hunter around his thrashing arm. “Easy…easy Dean, we’ll find’em.”

“Sam, he was right here, we…we…oh God, Lucifer is free.” Dean sucks in a weary breath of air and sags in Bobby’s hold.

Bobby attempts to process Dean’s words. Lucifer is free? Pushing his questions aside, he doesn’t have time to dwell on what has happened here, only what he needs to do. Take care of the boys.

“Okay, you stay right here and I’ll look for Sam.”

The young hunter nods slowly, hand resting against a rock, he leans slightly attempting to pull himself up to stand, pain radiating down inside his chest. Okay, not such a good idea. He looks intently up at Bobby as he sucks in another gulp of oxygen. It’s hard to breath. As much as he doesn’t like the idea, his body is in a world of pain right now, and he knows that Bobby will find his brother. He nods weakly and watches as Bobby continues to sling rock and wreckage around. Please god, let Sammy be okay. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t take my brother away from me, not again. If Dean didn’t believe before, he knows he has to now, he has to stop Lucifer, and he has to save his little brother. Sam needs him more now than ever. He blinks back his wayward tears and glances around the wreakage. It looks like a freaking bomb went off here.

Bobby’s heart thuds in his chest as he recognizes the tan jacket lying partly beneath a jagged beam of wood. Brown hair covered in blood peaks out from beneath the object, and the older hunter’s stomach momentarily churns. Sweet Jesus.

“I found him.” he yells as he flings the dirt, wood, and rocks off of Sam’s limp body. He slowly lifts the beam away from Sam’s head, noticing the large gash that adorns the younger man’s skull from just behind his left ear down behind his neck. Okay, that’s gonna leave a mark. He hears a whimpered moan as Dean moves behind him, and he knows the older brother is attempting to stand and get to Sam’s side. Hard headed son of a bitch.

Bobby gently turns Sam over, eyes taking in the pale face, the sweaty profile of shock very familiar in the older hunter’s world. He immediately removes his outer shirt and covers Sam with it. His hand tugs a bandana from his blue jean pocket and places it against the large gash on Sammy’s head. He presses lightly to stave off the excessive bleeding. Sam moans lightly, and Bobby’s heart soars. That’s a good sign; he’s trying to wake up. He glances up as Dean slumps slowly down next to him, fingers gripping at his shoulder like a vice.

“Sammy?” the big brother whispers in between his heaving gasps.

“He’s gonna be okay Dean, just took a lump on the head.” Bobby offers hoping Dean will accept his assessment. His brown eyes gleam at Dean and he blinks back the excessive moisture.

Dean nods, blinking back his own tears. He wraps his left arm tightly around his waist to steady his broken ribs, as he seats awkwardly down on the ground next to Sam.

“So, how we getting out of here?” Dean asks curiously as he looks down at his brother.

Bobby moves his free hand to yank his cell phone from his pocket. “Well obviously, ain’t a damn angel going to do it for us, or he’d be here already.” The older man rolls his eyes and quickly punches in 911.

Dean huffs in silent agreement. He blinks sluggishly, but keeps his eyes fixated on his little brother. His hand caresses across Sam’s forehead and pushes back the wayward bangs. He listens to Bobby give instructions to the operator on where to send the ambulance. Man, he hates hospitals.

Sam stirs slightly, eyes fluttering but not opening, head leaning in toward Dean.

“Easy Sammy, it’s okay, I’m right here,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere, it’s you and me brother, you and me.”

:evil :cry :wub:

Chapter Three

Bobby Singers dark eyes scan the dimly lit evening sky surrounding St Mary’s; the moon giving a haunting glow to the destroyed remains of the aged church. The hunter’s ears recognize the sound of sirens as they wail way off in the distance. He waits impatiently for help to arrive. He can feel the blood saturated rag beneath his callous fingers, smell the coppery scent floating in around the stagnant, dusty air. He holds the crimson cloth tighter against the kids’ bleeding skull, knowing that Sam’s in a really bad way. crap, the kid is still unconscious. That thought alone makes his stomach churn.

He looks blankly across at Dean’s pain riddled image, his surrogate son’s forehead resting gently against his little brother’s limp shoulder, mouth tilted against Sam’s chestnut hair. He can vaguely see Dean’s lips moving, mumbling whispered words against his brother’s ear. He keens his head to the side, listening, straining to hear the words, then, suddenly feels like an intruder and turns his head away. He feels the warmth rise to his own eye lids, Dean’s words making his chest clinch tighter in an angry mass of rage. It’s just not fair, what did these boys ever do to deserve this.

“It’s okay Sammy, big brother’s right here; I’m not going anywhere, kiddo, its okay.”

The silent mantra ghosts across Dean’s pale lips, pain lines pinched tightly around his bright green eyes. If Sammy can hear him, he doesn’t respond, his eyes stay closed, his head leaning gently against his big brother’s side. He can feel Bobby’s hand fisting tightly into his denim jacket, offering his quiet, unconditional support, and he raises his heavy head slowly to stare pleadingly at the older man. Why Bobby, why is this happening to us?

Bobby gazes into the sluggish green eyes.

“Dean, stay with me son,” he whispers as he gives Dean’s arm a little shake.

Dean can feel the pain radiating in his chest with every ragged gasp for air. He is sure he has several broken ribs and the pain is excruciating. He glances slowly around, his foggy mind trying to determine if Lucifer has really risen. It looks like a war zone, and he is happy just to be alive, for Sam to be alive. He is sure the demon is long gone, screaming off to end the world. Put that on the ’to do’ list for later.

The older brother sighs heavily and looks back at Bobby’s anxious face. He can hear the distant sounds of sirens as they grow louder in the wind. He sucks in several gulps of air. Tears well up in his eyes, and he attempts to hold them back, but he can’t fight it, he knows he’s going to cry. Why has this happened? Why did I let this happen? I let my little brother be tricked into releasing Lucifer, by demons and angels alike, what the hell? Silent tears roll slowly down his cheeks to plummet quickly to the ground. He remembers the shattered look on Sammy’s face, the confusion and hurt that radiated from his brothers liquid hazel eyes. Sammy was lost, drowning, and I should have been there, I should have stopped it. He moves one hand slowly up and pushes the wayward bangs from his little brother’s forehead. It’s my job to make everything okay.

Dean raises his head slowly and looks sadly back at Bobby. The man’s been more like a Dad to us than John Winchester ever was. He see’s Bobby’s concerned face and recognizes the strength the older man provides, the reminder that family is all you really have in this world, and all you’ll ever really need. You can’t pick your family son. Bobby’s words echo in his head and he heaves in a large gulp of air, shores up his shoulders, and brushes one hand against his pain laced face, angrily swiping at the wayward tears. I’m going to fix this, Sammy! He coos more words of comfort against Sammy’s lolling head.

“Its okay kiddo, big brother’s gonna fix this, it’s going to be okay.”

-0-

It was the strong stench of antiseptic and alcohol that pulls him for his medicated slumber. He blinks open heavy eye lids to gaze groggily at the pristine white ceiling just above his head. Oh crap, I’m in a hospital. Far too many hunting trips gone asunder, too many injuries that require way more than a band aid and a quick ‘you’re okay’ come to mind. He’d been in this position way to many times in his life. His eyes quickly dart around the room, settling immediately on the man slumped asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

“Bobby?” his hoarse voice croaks out. Damn, I sound like crap.

The older man immediately stirs, hands slamming haphazardly to the arms of the chair, feet pushing to stand on stiff sleep laden legs.

“Dean? Thank god!” the older man says with shear relief evident in his tone. He shuffles awkwardly toward the side of the bed, brown eyes gleaming brightly down at Dean.

Everything is hazy. Why am I in the hospital, what happened? Dean looks with confusion up at Bobby, his fingers reaching awkwardly up to tug at the offensive object that is niggling at his nose.

Bobby’s large hand immediately grips his and pulls it away from his face. “Leave it Dean, its oxygen, its helping.”

Dean lets his hand drop limply to the mattress. He looks curiously back at Bobby. Why do I need oxygen? Sudden realization dawns on him and he feels panic rise up in his chest. His hands flounder around for purchase as he pushes hastily to exit off the bed.

“Sammy?” he whispers in a shaky voice, eyes pleading with Bobby for some confirmation that his little brother is still alive.

Bobby’s hands grip Dean tightly by the forearms, pressing him gently back down against the bed. “He’s in the room next door.” The older man offers with a forbidding smile, grip unrelenting in his attempt to keep Dean lying down.

Dean visibly relaxes, relief flooding through his limbs. He slumps back slowly to the pillow.

“You need to stay put you idgit, you got three broken ribs and a concussion going on in that thick head of yours.” Bobby sighs, tugging one hand up to remove his hat. “Sam’s still unconscious; don’t know when he’s waking up.” He tugs the hat back down firmly on his head. “He got thirty four stitches in his head, broke his shoulder too, damn beam weighed a freaking ton.”

Dean stars wide eyed at Bobby, “Holy crap.” The older brother pauses taking in all of Bobby’s words. “He’s still unconscious?” he whispers slowly, voice laden with concern.

“Yeah, doctors think he should wake up anytime though, shoulder took the brunt of the blow. I've been jumping back and forth from one room to the other all damn day.”

Dean pushes to set up, finger wrenching off the offending oxygen mask as his feet fall abruptly to the side of the bed. He moans slightly with the physical motion, arm curling protectively around his midsection. Humph, need more drugs, that’s for sure.

Bobby watches, irritation flashing across his face. “Damn it Dean, I said stay still,” he practically shouts.

“Not happening Bobby, I got to be with Sammy.”

Bobby rolls his eyes. He knows this is a useless fight. He sighs, and then assists Dean to slip into his blue jeans, remove the hospital gown and ease his arms into his over shirt, remembering the tee shirt that was cut off in emergency. The older hunter mentally scolds him self when he stoops down to help Dean into his shoes and hears him moan slightly with the movements. I know he’s hurting, I should make him stay put. Bobby shakes his head, standing up, he stares fixedly at Dean. This kid is one hard headed son of a bitch, but mostly, he’s a big brother. The senior hunter is just glad to see Dean back in the role of watching out for Sammy. It being the end of the world and all... He smiles, and grips his young friend by the elbow, leading him slowly toward the door.

Okay, how am I doing? Reviews please…

I really like this story so far, it helps make the wait between now and September a bit more bearable. Please continue.

:bang

Well, I hope someone is reading this!?!?

:blink:

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N- You are about to enter a beta free zone, so be nice! Just my take on what might happen after Lucifer Rising. Of course, the real Season Five will be much better than my make believe, of that much I am sure!

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Four

Dean shuffles slowly through the doorway, eyes fixated on Sam’s unconscious form. The sudden urge to pull away from Bobby and run to his brother’s side attempts to overtake him, but he knows he’s not up to it, fears he will topple to the floor without the older hunters grip against his arm. So, he submits to the laborious journey, relents to Bobby’s hold.

It seems like forever, but he finally makes it to the chair by Sam’s bed, Bobby easing him to set against the cold plastic form. He can feel the strain of his lungs attempting to pull in oxygen against the restrictive binds against his chest; just the walk from his room to Sam’s has worn him out. He leans forward slowly, eyes scanning his little brothers mangled body.

Sam’s a mess. Two IV’s cording to his veins; a blood pressure cuff adorning his free arm, a heart monitor clipped tightly to his finger. If that isn’t overwhelming enough, the kid has a lot of cuts and bruises that cover his face, his neck, and his long muscular arms, making him look like he was on the loosing end of a bad bar fight. It breaks Dean’s heart to see the large white bandage that is wrapped securely around his little brother’s head, covering most of Sam’s wild and wayward hair. The dark black circles under his eyes are pronounced, the result of the head injury, no doubt, and the large shoulder cast is overtaking him, pinning his arm tightly to his chest. Dean swallows convulsively, Sam looks too small in this bed, and Sammy never looks small, hasn’t since he was a gangly limbed fourteen-year old. The fleeting image makes Dean smile, and he reaches out for Sam’s fingers, pulling his brother’s free hand to clutch it tightly in his own.

“You still sleeping kiddo? Time to wake your ass up, we got work to do little brother.”

Bobby smirks silently and takes a step back toward the door. I’ll just give the boys some space.

“I’m getting us some coffee.” The older hunter says timidly as he scuffles from the room.

Dean nods a slow yes, but his eyes never leave Sam’s face, as his thumb rubs soothing circles against the top of his baby brother’s hand.

-0-

Bobby Singer glances across Sam’s bed to look at Dean, the kid looks in a world of pain scrunched up in that uncomfortable hospital chair. Need to get him back in bed. He watches and listens to Dean’s continual mumblings to his brother, has been for the last hour and a half. Dean apologizing to Sam, telling him all about what happened, about how Lucifer wasn’t such a big deal, that they would take him down, just like they had every other evil thing that roamed the earth. The older man smiles; Dean is definitely back in full force, broken ribs or not. He’s taking charge of the situation, going back into big brother mode, and taking care of Sam. The older hunter sighs. It’ll be nice to have things back to normal, well, as normal as they can get with Lucifer’s rise from hell.

-0-

Sam can hear the familiar low ramblings against his ear; he can feel the warm breath being expelled against his hair. Dean? He recognizes the sound of his older brother’s voice, the soft cadence of concern that he has heard his entire life. He can’t see him, but he knows his brother’s near, reciting soothing words, tugging at his senses to come back to the waking world.

Dean is immediately aware of the signs of Sam’s waking to the conscious world, the fluttering of his brother’s eyelashes, and the slight turning of his head. He leans in closer.

“Wake up Sammy, open those eyes for me.”

The older brother waits and watches, finally squeezing Sam’s hand tighter, hoping that pain will bring him back around.

Sam frowns, fingers flinching, seemingly struggling to open up his eyes.

Bobby stands and makes hasty steps to Sam’s side; he pulls his hand across Sam’s bruised and battered brow, tugging the small amount of bangs that have slipped out of from beneath the bandage aside.

“Sam,” the senior hunter’s deep voice encourages, “Wake up.”

“SAM, that’s an order.” Dean demands in a voice haunting like John Winchesters.

Sam complies; slowly opening heavy eyelids to look sluggishly up at Dean. He blinks, eyelids drooping back down to half mast.

“Hey, hey, no you don’t kiddo, look at me.” Dean insists as he releases his hold on Sam’s lax fingers and cups his pale cheek against his hand. His thumb caresses Sam’s cheekbone, hoping to pull the young man back awake.

“D?” Sam mumbles thickly as he blinks his heavy lids. With still blurry vision he glances around the small room taking in the drab walls. Clearing his parched throat he tries again, “Dean?”

Dean smiles, he recognizes the medicated voice whispering the one word he really needs to hear. Sam knows who he is. Always with a head injury he worries, but relief is evident on his face, and he grins brightly across at Bobby.

“Welcome back kid.” Bobby says as a crap eating grin pulls to his lips and he relaxes his stance, hand patting down the white sheets that rest lightly across Sam.

Sam blinks several times, eyes gazing incoherently up at Dean. I’m in a hospital?

Dean sees confusion in his siblings hazel orbs, the realization that he is in the hospital, and the panic of not knowing exactly why. He recognizes the pain that Sam’s seems to just be realizing he is in as his unfocused eyes look down at his casted shoulder and up toward the IV’s snaking to the stand.

“You’re okay,” the older brother pauses, not sure he really wants to remind the kid what really happened and why he’s where he is.

Sam blinks blankly back at Dean.

“Wh’rs Dad?” Sam asks softly, voice sounding way too young and lost.

Dean’s mouth falls slightly agape, his heart suddenly pounding loudly in his ears. Where’s Dad? What?

The room is abruptly spinning and he feels his body waver on his feet. Strong hands guide him and he feels his butt plop down against a wobbly chair. He struggles just to catch his breath. He sits in stunned silence for what seems like forever, and then slowly raises his piercing green eyes to gaze with mixed emotions back at Sammy’s confused face.

“Bobby?” Dean says softly.

“I’m getting the doctor,” the older hunter states matter of fact as his finger is pushing frantically against the call button, his eyes darting from Dean to Sam. Holy crap!

“Dean?” Sam whispers in confusion.

Dean nods his head in slight confirmation, bright eyes never leaving his little brother’s face. He reaches up tenderly and grips against Sam’s hand.

“It’s okay Sammy, you’re okay.”

:cry Awwww...poor guys! I just found this and it is lovely! I hope Sam's confusion is temporary...Dean has enough to handle. Thank goodness Bobby is there. I love this and can't wait for more.

Cindy.

Just found this here. Poor Sam and Dean--So what's up with Sam? :unsure:

;) :hi5 :cheer :blink:

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N- You are about to enter a beta free zone, so be nice! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews on this story. You guys are the best!

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I’m just playing in the sandbox.

Chapter Five

Dean isn’t sure if Sam looks so bad because of his injuries or the fact he’s showing signs of withdrawal from the demon blood. He blows out a heavy sigh, crosses his arms across his chest and shuffles absently from one foot to the other. He and Bobby have been moved hastily by the medical team to the corner of the hospital room. They both watch intently as the medics poke and prod his little brother, one physician shining a pin light into Sammy’s hazy eyes. He notices that Sam grimaces slightly with the motion and it causes him concern. Another doctor listens to Sam’s heartbeat and asks him several questions. “How you feeling, how’s your arm, what’s your name?” It’s the name thing that seems to puzzle Sam for just a second. He eyes the physician with apprehension, his glassy hazels darting quickly back to look at his older brother.

Dean looks at Sam with concern. Perspiration is dotting the kids bandaged forehead, making his wayward hair slightly damp, and Dean notices that his hands are faintly shaking. Not a good sign if you know he sucks down demon blood. The older brother nods a little, giving Sam his silent seal of approval. Its okay Sammy, answer the questions. Dean smiles and scrubs his hand through his cropped hair, eyes watching the doctors’ every move.

“I feel okay, I’m tired, my arm hurts,” Sam answers the questions quietly. “My name’s Sam,” he blinks sluggishly back at the graying medical doctor who is asking all the questions.

“Yeah, a broken shoulder will make your arm hurt; Sam, who are these men right here?” The older physician points his index finger at Dean and Bobby.

Dean holds his breath as his hand curls tightly across his wrapped broken ribs.

“My big brother and my Uncle Bobby,” Sam states firmly, a slow smile curling to his pale lips. That’s Dean, I know that for sure.

Dean visibly relaxes and sucks in some air. Bobby smiles.

“Does your head hurt, any blurred vision or ringing in you’re ears?” The doctor’s finger moves around in front of Sam’s face, the kid’s eyes following it with a slightly slow response.

Sam glances at Dean again; his eyes wide and full of trepidation.

Dean smirks at his little brother and steps closer, his hand ghosting across Sam’s sheet covered knee. Its okay Sammy, just answer the questions.

“Yeah,” Sam says hesitantly, “I can’t remember how I got here,” he looks somewhat perplexed as he offers up information freely to the doctor.

“Well, that’s perfectly normal with a head injury,” the older physician advises gently as he looks down at his patient. “I’m sure that will go away in time.” The doctor takes a step backward and glances up at Dean, before returning his gaze back to Sam. His brother said he was missing time? “And how old are you, Sam Winchester?”

Sam tilts his head slightly, face looking rather perplexed.

The doctor’s eyebrows arch up inquisitively as they wait several long minutes for Sam to respond.

“Ah,” Sam’s free hand fumbles with the white sheet, face furrowing into a long thinking moment.

”Ummmmmm….I’m twenty…ah…twenty two.” He nods firmly.

“No Sam, you’re twenty-six, remember.” Dean offers up decisively from Sam’s side. He’s just a little confused, that’s all.

Bobby shuffles closer to the bed, now standing beside Dean as he stares with alarm at Sam.

“No Dean, you’re twenty-six, not me.” Sam giggles slightly as he looks into Dean’s wide anxious eyes. “My brother and I been on a road trip, he came and got me at Stanford, I’m taking a break from college. I have a girlfriend there.” Sam smiles warmly at the doctor.

Dean fights the urge to freak out, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with worry.

The doctor glances at Dean and Bobby, both men looking slightly stunned.

The doctor nods at his patient. “Okay Sam, I see you are pretty clear headed, that’s good. Some confusion, but that’s perfectly normal with a concussion. I’m going to get the nurse to bring you some more pain medication, okay, that will help that arm.” The physician motions with a small nod of his head for Dean and Bobby to exit from the room with him.

“Get some rest Sammy,” Dean forces a smile to his lips as he tugs the sheet up against his brother and gives it a tiny little pat.

Sam looks sluggishly at Dean, and then lets his tired eyes flutter shut and mumbles, ““Kay D’n.”

“Sam, I just need to talk with your brother and Uncle a minute, okay,” the doctor emphasizes as he moves quietly toward the doorway.

“Mmmhummm” Sam mumbles unintelligibly as he drifts off into sleep.

The two older hunters follow the doctor as he shuffles into the hall. Dean pulls the door slightly ajar so he can still see his little brother, to make sure he’s okay. “So?” he grumbles at the doctor, eyes almost wild with fear, anxiety rising in his chest.

“Well, Sam seems to have some memory loss. I don’t usually see a patient regress back so many years, block out so much.” The doctor looks slightly perplexed.

“Oh yeah, no reason for the kid to block anything out,” Bobby mutters in an almost angry tone.

The doctor’s head turns to look curiously at Bobby.

Dean glances to Bobby and rolls his blue-green eyes. “So what do you think, Doc, will he be okay?” Sides the fact his girlfriend died, his Dad died, his brother went to hell, he hooked up with that slut Ruby, and got doubled crossed by demons and angels to let Lucifer loose, and by the way, he’s addicted to demon blood, yeah, that ‘bout sums it up.

The doctor shakes his head curiously, then, looks back across at Dean. “I want to do some more tests before I let him go.”

“Okay, sure,” Dean sighs inwardly. Oh crap, got to get Sammy out of here. He offers his hand out to thank the physician for his help. “Thank you Doc.”

The older man shakes Dean’s hand, then turns to go, “I’ll get back to you in the morning, after we run the tests,” he says as his back retreats down the corridor

Dean and Bobby both stand shell shocked in the hallway.

“He’s going into withdrawals Dean, we got to do something.” Bobby whispers “Get him out of here.”

“No crap,” Dean mutters as he slumps against the doorway, teeth chewing on his lower lip. He eyes Sam’s pale sweaty face, knowing they’re going to have to move quickly, the demon blood is only going to make Sam sicker, and very, very soon. How do I get him through all this?

“Man, Sam doesn’t remember any of it? Jessica, your Dad, Ruby, Lucifer…all of it?” Bobby says in stunned disbelief.

Dean uses his thumb and forefinger to rub absently at his head, distress lines obvious on his face. “It’s not what he doesn’t remember right now that bothers me, Bobby, it’s what’s gonna happen when he does.”

Both men looked distraughtly at each other.

-0-

It isn’t hard to get Sammy out of the hospital; it’s something Dean and Bobby have done before. One man keeps the nurses busy; the other absconds with the patient. Now Sam is sleeping, drugged to the guild in the back seat of the old Chevy they stole from some parking lot near the hospital. It isn’t the Impala, but it serves the purpose they need. Bobby is riding shotgun while Dean barrels the car back toward Singer Salvage.

Dean’s thoughts are perplexed as he drives, his ribs hurt, his head hurts, and he feels totally drained. He doesn't get it...what’s happened to the end of the world, the apocalypse, where’s Lucifer, and all the freaking angels? It was just a bi-line on the nightly news, some church burning to the ground in Ilchester, Maryland, no big deal. That was over two days ago, and Dean had yet to hear from Castiel. Where is he, what’s happened? He shook his head in disbelief with it all. At least the sun was still rising in the morning, the stars still shown at night, and it seemed like the entire world was completely oblivious to the happenings at St. Mary’s Covenant and Lucifer’s rise from hell. That’s good, maybe we can still fix this?

He sighs and gazes into the mirror at Sammy, tucked beneath a mound of blankets and Dean’s black leather jacket, dozing peacefully in the back seat. Thank God for small miracles. He smiles and looks back at the road. I’m taking care of you now, little brother. I’ll not fail you again. I will get you through this…I promise. He glances at Bobby and grins smugly to himself; the old man’s sound asleep against the passenger window, drool running slowly down his chin.

;) Oh, this does not look good. Poor Sam. Poor Dean. Poor Bobby. This is bad...very, very bad! I can't wait to read more. Please update soon!

Cindy.

i was hoping to read another story written by you,i missed this!!!
I can't wait for more ;)and he doesn't remember the last years??? :o

Okay - I need to know if you like this- so hit the review key when you're done!
:lol:

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Your reviews have been awesome. As I said before, you are all the best. Of course, you all know that my mind is working in overdrive writing this story; I can’t seem to stop. Don’t you just hate it when that happens?

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Six

The ride to Singer Salvage is uneventful, Sam waking only one time for water and asking where he is. Unfortunately, Dean’s body stiffened up about halfway through the journey and Bobby banishes him to the passenger seat to get some much needed rest himself. The drive is long, but the car finally pulls into the old junk yard as the amber sun is sinking slowly beneath the swaying trees.

Dean sighs and pushes the passenger door open. It’s the end of day three after the release of Lucifer from hell, and all is still quiet? What’s going on?

“You okay?” Bobby asks over the top of the car as he glances across at Dean. The older brother’s face is lost in thought as he stands hunched slightly forward, both arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Yeah,” Dean swallows convulsively and moves to stand up straighter. His eyes look keenly through the dirty back window at his still sleeping little brother. “I just don’t get it, Bobby. I thought Lucifer was taking out the world, I thought we’d all be dead by now, but, it looks like he’s got some kind of special agenda, huh?”

“Yeah, looks that way. I have to admit it though, I thought we were goners. You know fire, flame, and brimstone.” Bobby shrugs up his shoulders and chuckles lightly, “Maybe the angels got to him in time?” His face goes from slightly amused to serious in seconds as he watches Dean scuffle slowly toward the back door of the old car.

“Oh no you don’t, kid." Bobby jogs hastily around the vehicle to stand right next to Dean.

“I got’em.” Dean wheezes out between ragged breaths of air. He reaches shakily for the door handle and slowly opens the back door of the car.

Bobby shakes his head in disbelief, “You can barely get yourself inside you idgit, I got Sammy.”

Dean stands silently staring at his kid brother, hands in a white knuckle grip against the open door, breath coming out in little huffs. He wants to do it, he really does, but he can barely stand up after the long ride, let alone help get his Sasquatch of a brother inside the house. He nods in unspoken resignation as he moves slightly sideways to allow Bobby to get to Sam.

“Sam,” Bobby leans in and pats Sam lightly against his uncast arm, “We’re here buddy, wake up.”

Both hunters watch as Sam’s sluggish hazels blink open slowly, his pale face looking around the unfamiliar vehicle, eyes growing wide in instant panic.

Dean recognizes his brother’s fear immediately. The older brother sucks in a gulp of air, decides to ride out the pain and clutches at his ribs. He leans down, looking Sammy directly in the eye. “Easy Sammy, you’re okay. We’re at Bobby’s, remember?”

Sam’s confusion abates as he tilts his head to look from Bobby to Dean’s face, the tension leaving his features immediately as he slumps quietly back against the seat.

Bobby grins. It’s amazing how Dean can calm Sam down with just a look. “Move Dean, up the stairs and in the house, NOW,” the surrogate father orders.

Dean pushes away from the door and with great effort attempts to stand up straight again.

“It’s okay Sammy, we’re home now.” Bobby mumbles gently against Sam’s ear as he hoists the kid to his wobbly legs.

Dean hears Bobby’s low whisper and smiles. He watches their dear friend grip Sammy around the waist and help him move slowly toward the front porch. He follows laboriously behind.

-0-

Sam’s tucked neatly away beneath a swath of blankets in Bobby’s downstairs bedroom. Dean thought that he might be sleeping in the panic room in the basement with his brother, but Bobby says “Hell No”. The older man gives up his bedroom without hesitation. Dean just smiles and lets Bobby have his way, he doesn’t want to do that again, and obviously neither does Bobby. Dean figures Sam will detoxify willingly this time, just hopes they can find a way to make it easier for him. If it gets bad, they can always go down to the panic room. The older brother watches silently as Bobby covers Sam in the blankets and coos gently in his ear.

“Go back to sleep Sammy, its okay.”

Dean stands in the doorway, remembering the angry words that Bobby said to him not even three days ago.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch!” Bobby yells. “Well boo-hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable, that’s why they’re family!”

Truer words had never been said, and Dean smiles at the thought. Bobby was right; Sam was family, with or without demon blood. Sam would always be his little brother, the kid he taught to talk, to walk, to ride a bike, to read, to sing, to turn a cartwheel. Tears well up in his emerald eyes and he has to turn away, hobbles to the living room. He sinks slowly down against Bobby’s tattered chair. Sam was drowning before and he’s still drowning now. It just took Bobby to make me see it.

He swipes his hand across his damp eyes and gazes at the old dusty books decorating the coffee table. So he’s the one supposed to smite Lucifer. Interesting…who would’ve guessed? He sighs loudly, knows Sam’s going to remember what happened, going to remember Jessica and their Dad, and that thought alone just breaks his heart. It was hard enough to watch the first time. He sucks in some air and shores up his shoulders. Suck it up Winchester. He’ll focus on the one thing he knows to; the only thing he cares about – taking care of Sam. Get him through withdrawal; help him get his memories back. And if the end of the world comes while he’s busy doing that, well then, so be it. Sam is more important.

-0-

Dean’s eyes flutter open in immediate awareness as he blinks sleepily and stares around the darkened room. He’s asleep on Bobby’s living room couch, tattered blanket covering his aching form. He attempts to roll over on the cushions, sharp pain radiating across his chest. Bobby told me to go upstairs to the bedroom, but not me, no I’m too hard headed to listen. He can barely make out Bobby’s lax body sleeping uncomfortably in the chair by Sammy’s room. He snickers to himself in the dark. Obviously, Bobby wouldn’t leave Sam either.

He suddenly feels like someone is looking at him and he jerks his head to the side as adrenaline pumps through his veins and he jumps instantaneously to his feet.

“Easy Dean, it’s just me.” Castiel’s quiet voice wafts across the darkness and Dean turns to see him standing in the corner of the room.

The angel sounds depressed, a tone Dean normally doesn’t recognize in his voice. Dean sways and plops his butt down back solidly on the couch. “You here or am I dreaming? Dean asks with slight confusion as his hand rubs against his eyes.

“I’m here. Don’t worry, Bobby won’t wake up.”

Dean squints his eyes, “You okay?” he asks in earnest as he reaches for the light.

“Don’t Dean; you won’t like what you see.”

Dean’s finger hovers on the light-switch, then, he tugs his hand back to his lap.

Castiel steps into the dim moonlight that is shining through the window and Dean suddenly feels kind of sick. The angels face is a mess, cuts and bruises, broken nose, blood all over his dirty coat. Dean grimaces.

“You look rough dude.” Dean says as he strains his eyes to see.

“Fight to the finish, them arch angels, they are a bitch.” Castiel grins.

Dean laughs lightly, eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.

“So you gonna tell me what happened, what’s going on?” Dean asks almost eagerly as he peers through the dark at Castiels face.

“Well, Lucifer’s free, if that’s what you mean.” Castiel huffs out a long breath of air. “I know you tried to stop it, but Sammy was tricked. I should have told you before, I shouldn’t have let this happen.” The wayward angel slides down on the couch next to Dean. “Lucifer’s free, roaming the earth and preparing for the end of the world,” he sighs, “My father is aware.”

They sit in companionable quiet for several moments, thoughts rolling through their heads.

“So it’s true then,” Dean says as a slight smirk curls against his lips.

“What?” Castiel turns slightly, fingers swiping at his bloody nose.

“Demons suck and angels can’t be trusted?”

“Pretty much,” Castiel laughs loudly, bright eyes gleaming in the dark.

Dean smiles, then both men sit in silence, as the sun begins to rise.

:cheer

:evil
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Your reviews have been awesome. Thank you. Obviously others are bored during the shows hiatus and looking for something to do with their Winchester free time. Go figure. Denise

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Seven

On the forth day after Lucifer’s rise from hell Sam is in the full throughs of withdrawal. It starts just after sun up, Dean standing in the kitchen talking to Castiel about what happened at St Mary’s Covenant, the building imploding into a bright red ball of light and the fact that Sam doesn’t remember anything. Bobby is still dozing in the living room chair when the older brother hears what sounds like a low pitiful moan and he tilts his head slightly to the side and looks questioningly at the angel. His eyes grow suddenly wide as realization slams into him and he thumps the ceramic coffee cup down against the sticky countertop.

“Sammy,” he whispers with trepidation as they both bound quickly from the kitchen.

Dean skids to a halt at the doorway, eyes fixated on Bobby Singer, holding his little brother down against the bed. Sam is pale, sweat beaded on his forehead, wild eyes gazing incoherently around the room. “No, no, no,” the kid wails in a hoarse voice that Dean doesn’t even recognize as his brothers. His one good arm and legs are flailing in a radical attempt to escape from Bobby Singer’s hold.

“Stop Sam, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Bobby says firmly as he darts his eyes up to see Dean and Castiel.

“Help me, Dean” the older hunter almost begs.

Dean is at Sam’s side in a heartbeat, concerned blue-green eyes looking anxiously down at his little brother. Sam’s in a world of pain that much is obvious; his limbs are rigid as he fights tooth and nail to escape from Bobby’s grasp. Sweat is soaked through his clothing and the bed sheets are wringing wet. Damp hair is plastered to his feverish face. He looks bad. Dean slides to his knees next to the bed and grips Sam tightly by the arm with one hand, fingers ghosting across his clammy forehead. Jesus, he’s burning up.

“Easy Sammy, you’re okay. Just ride it out buddy.”

Sam’s head lolls to the side, and for a brief moment, slightly coherent hazels blink up at Dean. “D’n? Dean, it...it...hurts.”

“Sam…Sam, look at me.” Dean’s hands converge on the sides of Sam’s pale face, holding it steady, gazing intently into his disoriented eyes. “Sam, you’re going to be sick for a while kiddo, but I’m right here.” God, the kid doesn’t even know he’s addicted to anything.

Sam’s head nods slightly as he looks with sluggish eyes at his older brother. “Oh…Okay,” he whispers as his head falls slowly over to rest against Dean’s shoulder blade.

Dean almost smiles, would if this situation wasn’t so damn serious. Now that’s his Sammy, the kid with the unrelenting faith in his older brother. “You’ll…be...be here?” Sam murmurs against Dean’s neck in a pain laded, shaky voice.

Tears immediately well up in Dean’s eyes and he blinks them back abruptly, “Yes, I’m not going anywhere, Sammy, I promise.” He moves to scoot Sam over on the bed.

Bobby nods his head in silent recognition. Dean’s getting on the bed with Sam. The older hunter helps to maneuver long uncoordinated limbs over, allowing Dean’s arms to wrap up his gangly burden into a tight hold.

Sam immediately calms as he drifts back into sleep.

Dean nuzzles Sam’s head beneath his chin, wayward damp hair matting immediately to his own face and neck. He doesn’t care. He’ll be here for his little brother through it all, and this time, he’ll be here for as long as it takes.

-0-

Bobby paces the messy living room, eyes darting often to the bedroom and Dean’s unrelenting hold on his little brother. It’s been over four hours of Sam moaning, flailing, and thrashing around, fever ravishing his fragile frame. Bobby knows the kid can’t take much of this, not this time, not with a slight concussion and a broken shoulder. He sighs loudly and looks across at Castiel.

The angel has cleaned himself up, face cleanly shaven, wounds treated on the body he is currently residing in. His blood soaked clothes have been swapped for some new ones that Bobby gave him to use. It’s seems almost funny to the older hunter as he gazes at the mortal man and chews on his lower lip. I can’t believe a messenger from God is setting quietly on my couch staring blankly at the dirty carpet.

Sam screams.

“God,” Bobby groans, “This is crazy, there has to be something we can do.” He rips his baseball cap off his thinning hair and flings it across the room.

Castiel’s head rises and he looks with sad eyes at the older man. “God is aware.”

The sounds of Dean’s cooing voice wafts in from the other room.

“Sh…sh…sh…it’s okay, Sammy, no ones going to hurt you. Please Sammy…shhhhh, its okay.” The older brother sounds exhausted.

“There is,” Castiel whispers as he slouches back against the couch cushions, serious eyes gazing up at Bobby.

The older man’s face falls agape as he looks curiously at the angels face. What the hell? He immediately moves closer to the Castiel, eyes gleaming angrily as he looks him in the eye. “What…what did you just say?”

Castiel heaves a sigh, “There is a way.”

Bobby reaches down and grips the angel angrily by the arm, tugging him upward to stand at a very high rate of speed. “Spill it,” he hisses.

Castiel glares at Bobby’s hand and the older man frowns silently then releases his hold on the angels arm.

“The demon blood is an addiction, so we treat it like any other addiction. Give him smaller doses until it is expunged.”

Bobby blinks; the realization of what Castiel is saying soaking slowly into his brain.

“So, you’re saying we need demon blood? That we give Sammy shots of blood every day?”

“Yes, it will counter act the effects, taper him off slowly.” Castiel nods his head, “But, he will always have the addiction, it won’t just go away, but…it can be controlled with injections.”

Bobby stares blankly for a moment, then bounds back toward the bedroom door. “DEAN,” he yells loudly as he yanks up his baseball cap from the floor and places it firmly back on his head, “I’m going out for a while, take care of Sam.”

And with that, the front door bangs shut and the senior hunter is gone.

-0-

Dean’s throat hurts from all the talking, the constant whispering, consoling, and all the comfort he’s been offering his little brother. His own body is broken out in a hot sweat, as he clings tightly to Sam’s shaking frame. The incoherent Winchester is mumbling in broken syllables, something about Jessica, a fire, and flames. The words make Dean’s heart thud loudly in his chest. Sam’s memories are still in there somewhere. He wraps his arms tightly around his sibling pulling him back up against his chest. Sam’s head lolls around on his neck and he jerks and moans, body rolling and tumbling around on the bed, but Dean just holds on tighter.

It’s been hours now, Dean’s not sure how long, but he knows if he doesn’t stand up soon, take a break, his own body is going to give out. His ribs hurt with a vengeance, Sam unaware how many times he has bumped and bruised his older brother. Tears well into his eyes and roll unabated down his sweat soaked face, he’s not sure if he’s crying for Sam, or for himself. At this point, he doesn’t really care. He feels like he’s loosing it, and wonders how long he can keep this vigil up.

“Dean?” Castiels voice floats in from the door. The angel looks concerned, grief written all over his face. It’s time to step in, can’t have the ‘designated one’ succumbing to his injuries. “I can ease some of his pain,” the angel offers quietly.

Dean’s weary head raises, “You can?” he whispers questioningly. What the hell? He tugs Sammy in closer as he peers curiously at the angel. “Not sure I can trust you?”

Castiel smiles, Dean’s words from the night before still echoing in his head.

“So it’s true then,” Dean says as a slight smirk curls against his lips.

“What?” Castiel turns slightly, fingers swiping at his bloody nose.

“Demons suck and angels can’t be trusted?”

“Pretty much,” Castiel laughs loudly, bright eyes gleaming in the dark.

The angel nods solemnly and steps forward. He places his palm against Sam’s feverish forehead. The youngest Winchester arches upward in Dean’s grasp, then slumps unconsciously back against his brother’s hold.

It takes Dean five minutes before he is ready to move, he lies still holding onto Sammy and wishing he could make all this just go away. Finally, with Castiels continual prodding, he slides Sam over against the pillows, tucks the sheet up around him and staggers to his wobbly feet, one arm curling absently around his aching midsection.

“He’ll sleep for awhile,” Castiel says as he reaches over to steady Dean, fingers curling tightly around the tired hunter’s arm.

Dean yanks away, “I got it,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you do that before?”

Castiel shakes his head and watches as Dean staggers toward the living room. Damn, he’s hard headed. “Cause it won’t continue to work, the more I do it, the less affect it will have.”

“Figures,” Dean says in exasperation as he plops down against the couch. A light moan starts to emanate across his pale lips, but he sucks it back down and blinks tired eyes up at Castiel. “Where’d Bobby go?” he asks as he looks around the room.

Castiel moves to sit in the chair on the other side of Dean, fingers fumbling with a loose string that’s suddenly holding his full attention. He sighs loudly, and then looks back across at Dean. “He went…to,” he hesitates, knowing full well Dean’s feelings on the topic of giving Sam demon blood, “to… get some demon blood.”

Dean looks stunned, “What? Why?” he says curiously as he stares with wide emerald eyes at Castiel’s face.

“To help Sam.”

:wave

aww nice story even that you cut it when we wanted to know the rest of the conversation... :(

boohooo Castiel appereance was scared :sherlock

:unsure: :evil :bang :blink: ;)
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Your reviews have been awesome. Thank you.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Eight

Demon blood is not as easy to find as Bobby Singer thought it would be. Although there are lots of hunters, and lots of demons, seems blood is not a hot commodity right now. It took him all afternoon to finally get hooked up with the right source, a doctor at the local hospital who also just happened to be from a long line of hunters.

Bobby shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, eyeballing the middle age doctor with slight disdain, not sure whether he could trust the man or not.

“Names Jerry, Doctor Jerry Lee Lewis.”

Bobby snortled. Well, this guys certainly a hunter. “Singer, Bobby Singer.”

“I understand you have a problem, an addiction.” The doctor asks as he leans halfway across his desk to look wide eyed at the man in the baseball cap. Inspecting him, giving him the once over. Guy doesn’t look strung out?

“Yeah, well…something like that….ah…Joshua said you know something about unusual addictions that you can help me out.”

“Depends on what kind of addiction it is,” the doctor pauses, eyes squinting across the desk at Bobby, “and how much it’d be worth.”

Bobby shakes his head in disbelief. A man out to make the almighty dollar! “So, you make money off of others misfortunate situations?”

“Sure, why the hell not.” The doctor scoffs and pulls back in his seat, obviously taken a back a bit by Bobby’s spot on words.

“Whatever man,” Bobby hands raise palms forward in an un-threatening motion. “How much for six months worth of demon blood,” the older hunter spits out. Damn it Singer, don’t scare the guy off - get the blood.

The doctor smiles visibly relaxing with Bobby’s words. “Six months, ten dollars a vial, one dose a day, well lets just round that up to, say, five thousand.”

Bobby shakes his head again. Guy can’t do math for crap. “Deal.” Bobby reaches into his coat pocket and counts out the money on the desktop. “I’ll need syringes thrown in for that price, doc,” the older man demands as he rolls his eyes.

The doctor huffs lightly and nods his head in agreement. He moves toward the exit. “Just let me get that for you Mr. Singer.”

-0-

Dean’s not so sure how he feels now about injecting demon blood into his little brother. He recalls his reaction was not so pleasant prior to the rise of Lucifer from hell. He remembers his last conversation with Bobby when Sam was locked up in the panic room downstairs. He sighs and drags his fingers through his short cropped hair, eyes staring off into space.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time. Are we absolutely sure we’re doing the right thing? Bobby asks as Dean stands up.

“Bobby, you saw what was happening to him down there. The demon blood is killing him!”

“No it isn’t. We are,” Bobby corrects.

“What?” Dean stares at him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t bite my tongue any longer,” Bobby says. “We’re killing him. Keeping him locked up down there. This cold turkey thing isn’t working. If he doesn’t get what he needs, soon, Sam’s not gonna last much longer.”

Dean blinks, and looks down. “No, I’m not giving him demon blood, I won’t do it.”

“And if he dies?” Bobby asks.

“Then at least he dies human!” Dean says loudly.

“Dean?” Castiels voice drags him from his stupor.

Dean blinks and looks up at the angel.

“You okay?”

“I’m not so sure,” is Dean’s candid response as he looks back down at the carpet, his mind reeling in his thoughts.

“I would die for him in a second,” Dean’s words ring inside his head. “But I won’t let him do this to himself. I can’t. I guess I found my line. I won’t let my brother turn into a monster.”

“Sam’s not a monster.” Castiel says softly as he sets down on the couch next to Dean.

Dean’s head cocks up quizzically, “Are you reading my thoughts?” he asks wide-eyed as he stares at Castiel.

The angel just shrugs, a small grin curling to his lips. “Maybe?”

“Well, son of a bitch.” Dean’s body sways back against the musty old couch; complete exasperation evident in his tone.

Castiel snickers lightly.

Dean looks intently at the angel, fear and confusion evident on his face.

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, “Sam was tricked, duped by demons and angels alike. Although he has demon blood in his veins, Sam is a good person, a light in a very, very dark world. You know he is. I know he is, and my father knows he is. God will not forsake Sam, nor should you.”

Dean stares, mouth hanging slightly ajar with the angel’s enlightening words.

“I know,” the young hunter finally whispers, “Sam has always been the best person I know, and that will never, ever change.”

-0-

It’s way past dark when Bobby returns to the salvage yard, precious cargo in tow. He hastily shuts off the engine of his truck and grabs up the two large boxes of demon blood and syringes. I got to get this stuff in the cooler right away. He shuffles quickly up the front steps, feet thudding loudly on the porch as he practically runs inside the house. Sudden silence greets his ears. What the hell?

“DEAN?” he yells as his eyes scan the living room.

“We’re in here,” a tired voice greets him and Bobby sets the boxes on the coffee table and moves quickly to the bedroom.

Sam looks unconscious, of that much Bobby is sure. Dean looks exhausted, arms wrapped tightly around his unresponsive sibling.

Castiel hovers quietly against the corner wall.

“Did you get it?” Dean barks out hastily when he sees Bobby’s face.

Bobby’s eyes go wide in surprise as they dart from Dean to Castiel. You told him?

The angel nods his head.

“Yeah, I got it.” Bobby says as he races back erratically into the living room and rips open the boxes with a vengeance.

“Hurry,” Dean yells from the bedroom, “We’re loosing him, Bobby, God, please hurry.” I won’t loose my brother again…I won’t.

Bobby grabs out a syringe and a vial. Hands shaking, he pumps it full of blood and scuffles hastily back into the room.

Dean has Sam propped up against him, his hand tightly extending out his little brother’s arm in front of him.

“Do it, god, Bobby, do it.” The older brother closes his eyes, sucks in a large gulp of air. Sam’s not dying, not this time.

Bobby hesitates, eyes looking inquisitively at Dean. Are you okay with this?

Damp emerald eyes blink hauntingly back open and look sadly up at Bobby. God, what are we doing?

Sam heaves in a shuttering breath of air. He is so hot that Dean’s feels like he’s burning right along with him.

“Do it.” Dean murmurs, resignation written in his tone.

Bobby gently plunges the needle into Sam’s vein, pushes the stopper completely in as they both watch the demon blood drain quickly into his arm.

Dean bits his lip so hard it brings blood to the surface and he tastes it on his tongue. Oh god, I’m going to be sick. He swallows back the bile, not willing to relinquish his hold on Sam. Tears well up in his eyes as he leans back against the bed, pulling and tugging the long lanky limbs with him; he curls his unresponsive sibling against his chest, cocooning him up as closely as possible. He whispers lightly in his Sammy’s ear as a lone tear runs silently down his cheek. “You’re okay Sammy; I gotcha, it’s all going to be okay…you’ll see, I promise.”

-0-

Dean wakes up slowly, realizing his little brother is snuggled up against his side. He blinks sluggishly at the bright sunlight that is filtering in through the window. It suddenly dawns on him that Sam is still breathing, and doesn’t seem to be in any pain. He pushes his aching body up on one arm to gaze down at Sammy’s sleeping face. His little brother feels cooler, no fever radiating from his pale skin. Oh, thank god!

“He’s better,” a haggard voice mumbles up to meet his ears.

Bobby’s head rises slowly and looks from Sam to Dean. It’s been a long night of sitting vigil with Sammy; the kid hovering on the brink of death, but hanging on with a vengeance. Typical John Winchester move – don’t ever give up. “The fever broke a while ago, but, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Dean turns his sluggish head slightly to gaze into Bobby’s tired face. “How long was I out?” He asks as he pulls his arms free of Sam and moves himself slowly off the bed.

“’About an hour.”

Dean pulls the cool sheets back up around his little brother, tucking him in snuggly and cascading his fingers through his tousled hair. “He looks better.”

“Yeah, he does.” Castiel speaks up from the corner of the room. The angel is sitting on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him looking worn out, but smiling none the less.

Bobby grins happily and stands to leave the room. “How ‘bout some coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee’s good,” Both Dean and Castiel respond in unison.

Bobby’s eyebrows arch up inquisitively as he stumbles from the room. Angels drink coffee, amazing…

:wave

;) :D :rolleyes:

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you, thank you, and thank you again for all the wonderful reviews. You guys rock. I promise more action is coming, just have to get the story to that point.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Nine

Dean is lying quietly on the double bed next to Sam. It’s his watch, his job to do. It’s been over twenty four hours since the first dose of demon blood was administered and Sam is now sleeping like a baby. It’s been a rough, Dean, Bobby and even Castile, rotating on a constant vigil, taking care of the ailing Winchester. The injections have gone well, slowly taking a hold. Sam’s nightmares have dwindled down to nothing, the fever almost completely gone. Bobby is resting in the living room, giving Dean some time alone with Sam. Castiel has long since gone doing whatever it is that angels do when they are looking to smite out Lucifer.

Dean sighs, eyes gazing at his resting little brother. Sam has not been awake completely since the injections started, only floating in and out. The kid is exhausted, still recovering from his head injury and broken shoulder, and now the withdrawal symptoms that have almost taken him down. He is finally on the mend and that makes his older brother very, very happy. His fingers grab the covers and pull them up tighter across Sam’s chest and giving them a light pat. Of course, there’s still the memory loss to deal with, and Lucifer’s abrupt exit from hell, but, hey, you can’t have everything.

Sound begins to filter into Sam’s awareness slowly. He hears the distant sound of chirping birds and the low mumble of voices somewhere far away. He feels the warmth of someone lying next to him, and hears the slight intake of air against his ear. He nuzzles down deeper; he’s comfortable and doesn’t want to open up his eyes.

“Sammy,” a familiar voice whispers, air hot against the side of his neck. Dean.

Sam licks his dry lips, frowns slightly, and tries to pull open his heavy laden lids. It’s too hard, I just want to sleep.

“Okay, I know you’re awake.” Dean rolls to his side and rubs his hand down the length of his little brother’s arm. “Open your eyes Sammy,” he says firmly.

He waits a long minute watching while Sam seems to be fighting an internal battle, pupils darting beneath his closed eyelids.

“Come one Sam, sleep times over.” Dean gives his little brother’s good arm a slight, but forceful, shake.

“L’me ‘lone,” Sam mumbles eyes still firmly shut.

Dean smirks, a light chuckle rolling across his lips. That sounds so damn good, so normal. Sam said that when he was a kid, always fighting to stay asleep just a little bit longer.

“Don’t think so kiddo.” Gentle fingers rub against Sam’s cheek, patting at his face, harassing him and forcing him awake.

“Deannnnnn, stop it.” Sam whines like a five year old and turns his head away.

Dean grins, and pushes to set up on the squeaky mattress. He watches as Sam tumbles around on the double bed, attempting to roll away from his older brother’s prying fingers. Oh thank god, a whining Sam, I’ll take it.

A sudden flash of pain and Sam’s hazel eyes bolt open quickly and he heaves in a little gasp of air. “Aw…that hurts.”

“Well, no crap, you need to be still,” Dean says informatively. “You got a broken shoulder there Sammy.” The older brother fumbles with the blankets that are tangled up in Sam’s long legs. His brother looks better, slight color resting in his cheeks, his eyes clearer as he blinks slowly up at Dean.

Sam groans weakly, fingers on his free hand reaching and grasping around, attempting to get himself more comfortable on the rumpled bed.

“Take it easy,” Dean helps to roll Sam up against some pillows, “Better?” the big brother asks with concern.

Sam blinks sluggishly, “Uh huh,” he croaks, swallowing down the dry lump that is resting in his throat.

Dean tips a lukewarm glass of water up to his brother’s parched lips. “Drink slowly, not too much.”

Sam gulps down the water greedily, hand shaking as he's grasping at the glass. God that’s good.

Dean pulls the glass away and Sam reluctantly lets him. He stows it back onto the nightstand.

“Wh’r are we?” Sam asks as his eyes strain to fully open.

“Bobby’s house and you’re in Bobby's bed.”

Sam looks slightly perplexed. “Oh, I don’t remember getting here.” He looks intently down at his casted shoulder, his arm in a sling nuzzled tightly up against his chest. “Wasn’t I in the hospital somewhere?” he queries in complete confusion.

“Yes Sam, you were.” Dean sets up against the headboard looking intently at his much alive little brother’s face. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“What ‘appen’d,” Sam asks with a yawn.

“Ah…ah,” Dean’s mind is racing, what’s he going to say. Kid’s not ready to hear any of this yet. “You got hurt during a nasty hunt.” Well, partially the truth. Dean consoles himself silently. It was a hunt…for Lillith, technically not a lie.

“Oh,” Sam says weakly as his head lolls back against the pillows. “My head hurts too.” His free hand rises up to rub at the back of his head.

“Yeah, you got stitches back there.” Dean smiles and nods slightly. “Leave that alone,” he demands.

Sam’s hand drops slowly back to his stomach, fingers curling up around the sheet.

Bobby Singer is now standing in the doorway, happy smile now adorning his tired face. “Hey kid, I thought I heard your voice. I’m glad you decided to join us.”

Sam grins tiredly from the bed. His nose snarls up in discontent and he glances over at Dean. “What’s that smell?”

Bobby cackles from his position by the door.

Dean laughs loudly, “Don’t look at me; you’re the one who ain’t took a bath in a few days dude.”

Sam’s head leans slowly to the side, his nose sniffing lightly at his shoulder. “EWWWW, I need a shower.”

“Yes, my stinky little brother, you do.”

-0-

Sam is as weak as a kitten and it takes both Bobby and Dean to get him from the bedroom into the bathroom across the hall. The kid is swaying lightly on his feet, fingers gripping tightly to his older brother’s shirt.

“Not so sure this is a good idea,” Bobby mutters as he looks from the shower to Dean, then Sam.

Dean chews on his lower lip, pondering the situation, fingers still gripping at his brother.

“I can do it.” Sam whispers.

Bobby silently shakes his head in a ‘no’ motion at Dean.

Dean’s still holding Sam tightly by the arm. “Sammy, maybe I need to help you with this shower,” he says, voice laden with deep concern.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I said, I can do it.”

Bobby leans down and adjusts the shower so that the spray is hot and ready. “I’ll just wait outside,” he says as he eases back from the room, eyes darting up to Dean. Don’t you leave him in here alone!

Dean nods silently, “I’m helping you with this shower, Sam” he states matter of fact.

“But…” Sam glares at him, but realizes Dean will not waiver. Decision made, he allows his older brother to set him down on the closed toilet lid. He watches as Dean shimmies out of his blue jeans, and yanks his own tee shirt over his head so that he too is clad only in his boxer briefs.

“I won’t take these off, wouldn’t want to overwhelm you or anything.” Dean’s eyes sparkle at his little brother.

Sam chuckles, “Yeah, whatever.”

He stands shakily, and lets Dean lead him into the shower. The warm spray feels good, and he closes his eyes, and relaxes back against his older brother. Dean’s arm snakes around his midsection, holding him firmly up. He feels a bar of soup thrust into his free hand and blinks over his shoulder at Dean.

“I ain’t washing you dude, got to draw the line somewhere. Now, get to it.” Dean snarls out with a grin.

Sam smiles and lathers the soup up into his hands, scrubbing away the sweat, dirt, and grim that seems to be coating his unsteady body. He feels Dean squeezing shampoo on his water logged hair, and then his brother’s fingers remove the soap from his shaky fingers. He reaches up slowly and scrubs sluggishly at his long hair with his one good hand, his body suddenly very tired. He wavers on his feet.

Dean releases a little huff, as he hoists Sam up closer to his chest. The younger brother feels the fingers of his brother’s free hand scrubbing lightly in his hair. “I got it Sam, just focus on standing up.”

Sam relents and lets his heavy arm fall resignedly back against his side.

-0-

Shower complete. Dean smiles as he tucks Sam back in the bed, his brother falling asleep almost instantly. He gazes silently at the face. Sam looks so innocent, so free of haunting memories. Worry edges its way into his thoughts. Sam will remember… He cascades his fingers through his sleeping brother’s damp hair in a comforting motion he has done for Sammy his whole life. He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of that…that’s my job. Take care of Sam. The older brother’s head rises slightly when he hears Bobby shuffle through the door.

“Dean,” the older hunter whispers in a low, barely audible tone.

Dean gazes up at Bobby.

The older hunter motions for him to come out of the room, his face slightly pale and drawn.

Bobby stares at the Dean, hating to be the one to tell him the most recent news. He watches silently as Dean’s fingers tug the blanket up around Sam. And then, to his amazement, Dean does something very un-Dean like and presses a faint kiss against Sam’s forehead. Bobby smiles slightly and backs out of the room.

Dean shuffles slowly into the hallway, eyes still darting back to check on Sam.

“Castiel is back,” Bobby says in a dark and fore lore tone, “It’s starting.”

;) :unsure: :blink:

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. This is my little take on Season 5, glad you decided to join me for the ride. Thanks for reading!

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Ten

Dean’s dark green eyes stare hauntingly at Bobby Singer as a pinched look rises to his face. He squeezes at the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger; forehead squinting up in slight distress. It’s starting? Oh my God!

“Dean,” Castiel’s low voice offers slight reassurance and the oldest Winchester turns silently to gaze blankly at the messenger from God. “What’s that mean, it’s starting?” he asks curiously. And do I really need to ask?

“The signs are beginning,” the angel says quietly. “Lucifer is out among us causing death and destruction.” Castiel’s face looks grim as he sighs and moves to set down on Bobby’s saggy couch. “We are going to have to work quickly to stop him. We are on his timetable now.”

Dean glances one last time at his sleeping sibling, and then shuffles into the living room with Bobby, both men staring with inquiring, curious eyes.

-0-

A silence falls over the room as both hunters look at Castiel, the seraph sighing as he runs his human fingers through his hair. He looks thoughtfully over at Dean. “Life and death decisions must be made quickly now. We cannot save everyone; it is too late for that. God placed man on earth to be part of a greater plan; you are part of that plan, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chews unconsciously on his lower lip, doubt and fear etching its way into his face. How the hell did God pick me? Can we go over that part again?

Bobby sets down silently in the chair in the corner; staring blankly at the angel. I can’t believe God hand picked Dean Winchester, holy crap.

“Satan has deceived many,” the angel continues, “Including your little brother.”

That gets Dean’s attention and he focuses instantly back on the Castiels face.

“We have arrived at one of the most fearful moments in time, attempting to stop the end destruction will not be a pleasant one, of this much I am sure.” The angel frowns faintly, all knowing eyes looking at both the soundless hunters. “The final seal is broken; the last three and one half years of great tribulation will begin. Satan’s influence must be stopped.”

Bobby’s head turns slightly, mind processing what the angel has just said. Three and a half years? Did he just say three and a half years?

Dean clears his throat, “And how are we….ah…am I supposed to do that?” I can’t believe I’m supposed to stop Satan…geez how’d I get in this mess?

Castiel leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “We have to follow the signs, we have to find him, and then, God will give you the weapon to end his reign of terror before the end of days begins.”

Dean stands back up uncomfortably, nervously shifting from one bare foot to the other. He begins pacing, walking quickly around the furniture in the room.

Bobby watches Dean and smiles mutely. He knows this kid and he recognizes this familiar motion. This is a nervous Dean; this is Dean unsure of what to do.

Dean’s throat fells suddenly very dry and he clears it one more time. He stares at Castiel with a glint of steel blinking into his deep green eyes, arms firmly crossed on his stomach.

“So, you’re asking me to go forward with this based on blind faith, correct? Just knowing that there is a weapon to kill Lucifer, which I may or may not have when I need it?” He glares heatedly at Castiel. That maybe part’s bothering me.

The angel sets silent for a long moment, “Blind faith in God, Dean.”

Dean looks long and hard at Castiel, mind whirling with his thoughts. He huffs out a weighty sigh, eyes flickering over to Bobby. The hunter offers him nothing, just looks blankly back at him.

Bobby’s not sure what to make of any of it; he’s still stuck on the “God hand picked Dean” scenario racing around in his head. He shrugs up his shoulders in a 'whatever' motion at Dean.

The oldest Winchester rolls his eyes as his hands clinch tightly into fists at his sides, “Holy crap, I need a beer,” he mutters as he moves quickly into the kitchen.

-0-

Dean is standing on Bobby’s rickety front porch his face staring up at the dark starless sky. Bobby’s lazy junk yard dog is lying limply by his bare feet. His fingers fumble with the beer bottle grasped tightly in his hand. He shakes his head in disbelieve. It’s hard to imagine the beginning of the apocalypse when the night is so beautiful; a cool breeze blowing lightly around him, sending a minuscule chill up along his spine.

He swigs down a mouthful of the warm ale and gazes out at nothing, his thoughts regurgitating everything that has happened, and wondering about everything that is about to. He realizes he’s the chosen one, the one to smite Lucifer and send him back to hell. All the angels say so, Castiel say’s so. He isn’t too happy with the fact, but he has accepted it. He will do what is required, will save the world, save himself, and save his little brother. After all, that’s what he does.

He smiles to himself, smiting Lucifer is not his biggest concern right now though - that’s sleeping in Bobby’s front bedroom just inside the door. He actually thinks it’s funny that he’d choose Sammy over the apocalypse. Not too sure God knows who he’s got working for him down here. His main concern has always been Sammy, and after the last six months, he realizes it always will be. Nothing can take precedence over Sam, not ever again. Castiel say’s he should leave Sam here, that he is a liability now and that he would be safer on his own. But Dean won’t do it, won’t leave his little brother behind, not again, not ever – Sammy is going with him, and that is just the way it has to be.

He yanks his beer up and swigs down the remaining liquid in one large gulp.

Sammy’s not ready for all this. The kid has no recollection of anything that is going on, anything that has happened in the last couple of years, and Dean doesn’t want to have to be the one to tell him, hates to be the one to shatter his already broken little brother. It just isn’t fair. Jessica, Dad, Ruby. He knows he has to do it though, knows it will be overwhelming. Hell, it freaks me out and I do remember it all.

He slings the beer bottle as far as he can into the darkness, listening as the glass shatters against a mangled old junk heap.

Castiel has offered to help Sam with his recollection, and Dean has really considered letting him. But the angel cannot guarantee Sam’s state of mind. “It would be better if he remembers as his own body permits,” the angel has cautioned both Dean and Bobby. They both know that Sam’s fragile mind has shut out the memories for a reason, gone back to a more innocent time when life was not so difficult for him. Back to the perfect life with Jessica in it, their Dad still alive, and Dean by his side. Dean understands this totally, and if he could do one thing for Sammy he wouldn’t take that security away. But Lucifer is out there, and Sam has demon blood in him for a reason, and he won’t take that chance. First thing in the morning he’ll try and help Sam start to remember, before they leave with Castiel, before they begin the most important hunt of their lives.

;) :cheer :cheer <_<
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Eleven

It’s early, before six a.m., and the sun is peaking brightly through the cracks in the ragged drawn curtains of Bobby’s Singers front bedroom. Sam is sound asleep, curled up on his side, peaceful drug induced smile adorning his pale face. Dean is slouched in the chair by the bed, the spot he took up residence in when he finished off several beers the night before.

The older brother never went to bed, thoughts and concerns running continuously around in his tired head. What to tell Sam, how to tell Sam? Jessica, Dad…too much information for Sam to handle? Oh God… That thinking alone threatened to make the older brother sick. And the demon blood? He exhales noiselessly, hanging his weary face forward to rest against his open palms. God, could this get any harder? He pulls his hands slowly upward through his short cropped hair and sighs loudly. His eyes gaze forlornly back over at his resting brother’s face. Sam looks so peaceful. His chestnut brown bangs cascade gently against his face and make him look far younger than he actually is. The large white cast adorning his broken shoulder encompasses almost half his curled up gangly body. Dean smiles to himself, this is familiar, and this is his Sammy, his kid brother. He has spent years watching him sleep, body all twisted up in a ball, face nuzzled tightly against the pillow. How does he do that? The smile fades slowly as the older brother huffs out a gasp of hot air and shakes his head almost angrily at himself. Damn it, how can I do this to him; it’s just not fair to take away the only peace he has had in the last three years?

The older brother mulls his options over and over and over, has been all night long. What to tell Sammy, how to tell Sammy? Finally he’s decides that less is more. He’s going to do what the doctor says, what Bobby has advised, allow Sam’s memories to come back slowly, on their own. He isn’t ready to tell Sam about his addiction to demon blood and Lucifer’s escape from hell, and well, he isn’t so sure he ever will be. Tell him about Jess first; tell him he needs a shot twice a week for low blood sugar? Make something up, Jesus….I don’t want to have to lie to him, but he’s not ready.

Decision made, he will do what is best for Sam, regardless if it is a little white lie. For now it is going to have to do, Sammy will understand later. The older brother pushes to stand, thinks he might possibly be able to doze now and get some much needed sleep. He staggers slowly from the room.

-0-

Sam’s sleep is anything but peaceful, he’s dreaming, images flashing rapidly through his mind - Jessica gazing hauntingly at him, “Why Sam? His father’s stern military voice yells at him, screams, “Shoot me, Shoot me now, Sam!” Then there’s blood and fire, and darkness. A russet haired girl urges him forward, begs him with pleading eyes, “What are you waiting for?! Now! Sam, now!” Her face contorts into a dark, menacing snarl as she whispers wickedly, “You saved us, you set him free!” And then a bright white light washes over him like a wave. It takes his breath away.

He bolts upright in the bed, wide eyed, gasping in a ragged gulp of air. Pain cascades quickly through his head, his arm, and his shoulder as he struggles to reorient himself to his surroundings. Where am I? What was that?

“You’re okay, Sam.” A gruff older voice whispers. It is familiar, gentle, and heavy with concern.

Sam feels the mattress dip with additional weight as he blinks quickly to clear his foggy vision. His sluggish head tilts slightly, deep hazel orbs gazing hazily at Bobby Singer through his damp and matted bangs. He feel’s firm fingers grip at his good arm, then a sharp pin prick that barely breaks the skin. He glances down at his arm and shudders in several quick wheezes of air. He blinks blankly back at Bobby as the sleep induced haze finally starts to lift.

“Easy Sam, it’s okay.”

“Did you just give me a shot?” Sam asks in slight confusion as Bobby helps him scoot up against the pillows.

The older man smiles, syringe waggling in his fingers as he stands and dumps the used needle in the trash can.

“Yeah, don’t you remember? Bobby’s mind races, what to tell Sam? “Doc says you have high blood sugar.”

Sam looks at him curiously.

Bobby sighs, but smiles at the kid. “Its okay, Sam, it will help you to feel better. Remember, they said you need a shot a couple a times a week.”

Sam frowns slightly, “I don’t remember.” Innocent eyes looked at the older man’s face. “But then, I don’t remember a lot.”

“I’ll get you some breakfast, you just rest.” That’s it Singer, change the subject.

Bobby pats Sam’s blanket covered kneecap, then eases backwards toward the door. A smile plastered on his face.

Sam’s eyes droop slightly as he nuzzles against the pillows.

Bobby moves silently out the door, eyes flickering forlornly back at the dozing figure slumped against the bed. God, I hate lying to the kid, but its better if he remembers on his own…

-0-

Dean stumbles slowly down the stairs toward the bedroom to check on his little brother. His little nap has turned into a half a day sleep a thon, and now he is angry with himself for sleeping so long. He knows Castiel is chomping at the bit to hit the road. He looks in through the doorway to see the rumpled bed coverings, but no Sam. He vaguely hears the sounds of muffled words and moves quickly toward the living room. He is surprised when he finds Sam resting horizontally on the couch watching television, as Bobby lounges in the chair.

“Sam’s feeling better,” Bobby says as he glances up at Dean.

Dean notices that the television is on some corny documentary on the education network. Geez, these two are just alike.

“Hey Dean,” Sam says with a light smile as he gazes up from his prone position to look tiredly at his older brother.

Dean plops down against the couch by Sam’s blanket covered feet.

“Hey kiddo, so you’re feeling better?” he queries, face laden with concern.

“Yeah, I am.” Sam grins at Dean making the older brother smile.

“It’s about time you got up; it’s after 2:00 p.m. I though you were gonna sleep all damn day.” Bobby snorts out, “You know I got stuff to do?”

The senior hunter mutes the television and moves quickly to stand up. “I’m going outside and work for awhile.” He nods silently at Dean, dark eyes glaring with the ‘you need to tell him look’ as he hands the remote to Sam.

Dean grimaces and turns his face from Bobby’s stare, “I need some coffee.”

“Just made a fresh pot,” Bobby’s hand waggles toward the kitchen as he exits hastily out through the front door.

Dean stands and shuffles to the kitchen, makes himself a stiff cup of coffee, and tugs in a heavy sigh. He moves slowly back into the living room, dread edging its way to the surface as he looks silently over at Sam. Where to start, how to start?

“We need to talk,” Dean whispers, butt slumping back down to the couch, intense green eyes looking across at his pale sibling. The coffee cups shakes lightly in his fingers and he grips at it tightly.

“What?” Sam says as he mutes the TV and stares with wide curious eyes at his older brother.

Dean’s looks uncomfortably down at the carpet, suddenly finding the dirty smudge from who knows what very interesting. He grips the coffee cup with a vengeance, coffee sloshing out over the edge.

Sam sees something in his brother’s face, fear, remorse, dread. “Dean?” Sam questions weakly as he pushes himself up on the couch with his wobbly arms, “What is it?”

“Where is the sling for your arm?” Dean asks curiously as he watches his little brother attempt to move up on the couch.

“Don’t change the subject, Dean. What is it?”

Dean looks sadly at Sam, his innocent and totally oblivious little brother. God, this is hard. He firms up his shoulders, ready for the backlash, and he whispers, “It’s Jess.”

no don't stop here!
pure boys :cry
I read all these last chapters together and now I'm curious :D

Awww...poor Sammy :cry

Great job on this fic--I've been reading it on ff.net and am glad you brought it over here too :D

;)

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. You guys are the best. Sorry, but I can only seem to post a chapter a week. It’s not from lack of trying; life just seems to be getting in the way!!

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Twelve

Dean reaches over and grips Sam’s good arm helping his wobbly brother to set up higher on the couch. The blanket covering Sam’s long legs tumbles to the floor. Dean lifts his eyes, his chin tucking tightly to his chest, shielding his face from Sam’s. His deep green eyes are the window to his soul, and he knows they will reveal something he isn’t ready for Sam to see yet. The older brother clears his throat uncomfortably; he knows he’s stalling for time. God, I don’t want to do this.

“What about Jess?” Sam’s voice quivers out in a low whisper, his heart thudding loudly against chest. He stares blankly at his older brother.

“Hey kiddo, do you remember that the doctor said you lost some of your memories?” Dean grips one hand firmly against one of Sam’s kneecaps as he gazes at the floor.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam looks curious and afraid all at the same time, wide hazel eyes looking at Dean like when he's five years old, wanting Dean to make it all better. “What about Jess?” he asks softly as the color drains slowly from his face.

“Sam,” Dean raises his head, looking at his little brother’s face. He knows Sam can see the hurt and pain in his clear green orbs, knows he’s scaring his little brother. Just say it, get it over with… “Sammy, Jessica’s dead.” His hand squeezes Sam’s kneecap tightly, attempting to ground Sam to him, keep him close.

Sam’s head shakes slowly back and forth as he suck in a gasp of air, “No, no, no Dean, she’s at school, I….I….we…we left her there, remember? You came and got me, so we could go find Dad.”

Dean reaches both hands up and grabs Sam by the forearms. “Sammy,” he says gently as he looks him directly in the eye, “She died three years ago, in a fire - Just like mom.”

Sam looks crushed, grief suddenly seeming to overcome him; his huge eyes stare questioningly at Dean. Suddenly, he pushes away, struggles to break free of his brother grip. He succeeds and his shaky arms wind mill him backwards as he scoots across the couch. I don’t want to hear this. “No, Dean, no, that’s not right,” he states angrily.

Dean watches in shock, not sure what to do for Sam.

Large tears form quickly in Sam’s eyes. Why are you lying to me…why…why? Why Sam, why? Suddenly, a flash of memory crashes over him like a wave and quickly pulls him under. His pupils constrict as his vision blurs, and he can’t seem to get in any air. All he sees now is Jess - pinned to the ceiling of their apartment, whispering, why Sam, why Sam, over and over and over. His butt drops abruptly to the floor as he flounders to get away from his thoughts, from the picture inside his head. No, this can’t be right, no, no, no, no, no.

Dean recognizes Sam is going into shock, his brothers eyes have constricted, and his breath is in short unstable gasps. Perspiration has suddenly appeared on Sam’s pale unbelieving face.

“Sam…” Dean grabs for the flailing arms pulling Sam’s uncooperative body back up against the couch, “Easy kiddo, its okay.” He glances at his brother’s unresponsive face. He tugs Sam into a hug, but Sam fights against him, still struggling to break free from his nightmare.

“Easy Sammy, calm down, its okay, just breath, I gotcha,” Dean’s strong arms fold around his brother, pulling him close, holding him firmly up against his chest. The kid’s body shakes uncontrollably from the realization of the truth, a memory Dean realizes he doesn’t want to have.

Sam shudders, he remembers it all now, coming home to Jess, telling Dean good bye, and then seeing Jessica on the ceiling, burning…flames licking at her skin, blood dripping on his face. Oh God, no…

“NO, No, no,” Sam whimpers as tears cascade quickly down his face, his entire body quivering with unrelenting sorrow. He buries his face against his brother’s chest, fingers pulling and tugging the material of Dean’s tee shirt, barely hanging on to reality.

Dean tucks his little brother’s head beneath his chin, his gentle hand gripping Sam at the nap of his neck, pressing him firmly against his chest. Brown wayward hair tickles his chin just like when Sam was a child. He rocks gently to and fro. “Its okay kiddo, it’ll be okay,” he whispers gently against the side of Sam’s damp face. The tears well up in his green eyes as the memories of the day Jess died assault him and hold him captive with a vengeance. I wish it wasn’t true. Sam, I wish it wasn’t true.

And Sam cries harder, chest heaving to gulp in air as his world seems to crash in down around him.

-0-

Castiel is setting quietly at the kitchen table with Bobby trying to act like they aren’t listening to what’s going on in the living room. It’s breaking Bobby’s heart to listen to Sam’s heaving sobs as he remembers what happened to his girlfriend. Castiel doesn’t really look too comfortable with it either.

“Want some more coffee,” the tired hunter asks as he stands and grabs the pot.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Castiel nods and watches Bobby refill his cup. “We need to leave here today,” the angel says informatively. “Lucifer is leaving a path of destruction, and we have to find him.”

“Dean knows that, but we needed to tie up these loose ends with Sam.” Bobby slumps back against the chair, chewing incessantly on his lower lip as he purposely ease drops on the other room. Sam sounds pitiful…Jesus, I hate this.

“It will be hard for Sam,” the angel says sympathetically.

Bobby grimaces. This is just crap. He frowns, and gulps down a swig of his coffee, fingers gripping the well worn cup tightly in his hand. Can’t anyone cut the Winchesters a break once and a while?

Castiel nods slowly, “God is aware Bobby Singer.”

Bobby looks up wide eyed at the angel. crap. “Stop reading my mind,” he spits out heatedly.

The messenger of God smiles minutely, and then pulls the piping hot cup of coffee up against his lips. He knows that Dean has to tell Sam at least some of what he’s lost, but he isn’t really sure how much the older brother is letting out of the bag. It would be better if Sam’s memories come on his own… He remembers the conversation he had with Dean, knows the older brother will do what is best for Sam. He also realizes that no matter what he tells Dean, what his advice is, Dean has decided that Sam is coming with them. Although Castiel doesn’t agree, he knows it doesn’t matter. He worries though, Sam has demon blood flowing through his veins, and Lucifer knows that. He will be looking for Sam, trying to pull him back into the fold.

“We will all have to watch out for Sam.” Castiel says hauntingly as he pushes away from the table.

Bobby’s head rises to stare questioningly at the angel.

“Lucifer will want him back.” And with those words, Castiel moves toward the door. He turns, blue eyes gleaming intently at Bobby Singer’s face. “I’ll be waiting, please tell Dean to yell for me when he’s ready to go.”

Bobby watches as the angel leaves the room, the back door banging harshly in his wake. Dean yelling for an angel – amazing. He drops his face into his open hands and sighs. I’m not sure going after Lucifer with Sam in tow is the best thing we could be doing. He knows it’s a futile argument. Dean is going to bring Sam with him, end of story.

-0-

Sam’s stopped crying now, his body too worn out to do anything but lean against his older brother. Dean’s still wrapped around him, holding him close and cooing lightly in his ear.

“Shush, its okay Sammy.”

Dean doesn’t know how long they have been sitting like this, wrapped tightly up together while Sam tries to comprehend what his brother has just told him, that his girlfriend, his Jess, is dead. His brother has stopped crying so hard, just twitching slightly in Dean’s grasp. The only sounds are the muffled voices in the other room and Sam’s hiccupping breath.

“Dean,” the younger brother whispers so low that Dean almost doesn’t hear.

Dean tilts his head and pushes away slightly. His head bows down to look in Sam’s unfocused eyes.

“Dad,” Sam’s voice quivers, “Is he?” I know the answer, I remember …

Grief is strange, all the hurt and pain rolls back over Dean as if their Dad had died again today. Fresh tears well up in his own eyes as he looks at Sam’s distraught face, “Yes, Sammy,” he says sadly, “Dad’s dead too.”


:hi5
:blink: Well, what do you thing? Review please!! :angry: :lol:

:cry :cry :cry Awwww, now Sam knows about Jess and his Dad. Poor boy, what will happen when he remembers the rest :unsure:

Great update! :cheer

omg poor boy :cry
and I just can image what he will feel when he's going to remember dean's deal :cry

:o Wow, I had a lot to catch up on! Hoo boy...but, I'm all caught up! This story is awesome. I feel so bad for Sam, espcially now that he is remembering. OMG, the poor guy. Good thing he has Dean there beside him, watching over him. He'd be lost without his big brother. Then there's Uncle Bobby. I just love that guy. I'm liking Cas too. Not too fond of him in the show, but maybe this next season? Who knows. I love this story so much. I'll try to keep up, but between writing my own and real life, it gets hard. I'll try though. Take care hon!

Cindy.

Great story im enjoying it very very much and i wouldnt mind at all if kripke decide to so the same with his season 5 Dean taking care of Sam at Bobbys.
sad for sam that he has to relive all his grief, cant wait for more.

ah man :( Poor Sammy is going through so much stuff...I wonder if he's gonna have a nervous breakdown after finding out about John being dead too & about Dean's deal to save him. It's going to be some emotional chapters ahead :) but I like it :D hehe. Great story so far!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. This is my little take on Season 5, glad you decided to join me for the ride. Thanks for reading!

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Ten

Dean’s dark green eyes stare hauntingly at Bobby Singer as a pinched look rises to his face. He squeezes at the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger; forehead squinting up in slight distress. It’s starting? Oh my God!

“Dean,” Castiel’s low voice offers slight reassurance and the oldest Winchester turns silently to gaze blankly at the messenger from God. “What’s that mean, it’s starting?” he asks curiously. And do I really need to ask?

“The signs are beginning,” the angel says quietly. “Lucifer is out among us causing death and destruction.” Castiel’s face looks grim as he sighs and moves to set down on Bobby’s saggy couch. “We are going to have to work quickly to stop him. We are on his timetable now.”

Dean glances one last time at his sleeping sibling, and then shuffles into the living room with Bobby, both men staring with inquiring, curious eyes.

-0-

A silence falls over the room as both hunters look at Castiel, the seraph sighing as he runs his human fingers through his hair. He looks thoughtfully over at Dean. “Life and death decisions must be made quickly now. We cannot save everyone; it is too late for that. God placed man on earth to be part of a greater plan; you are part of that plan, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chews unconsciously on his lower lip, doubt and fear etching its way into his face. How the hell did God pick me? Can we go over that part again?

Bobby sets down silently in the chair in the corner; staring blankly at the angel. I can’t believe God hand picked Dean Winchester, holy crap.

“Satan has deceived many,” the angel continues, “Including your little brother.”

That gets Dean’s attention and he focuses instantly back on the Castiels face.

“We have arrived at one of the most fearful moments in time, attempting to stop the end destruction will not be a pleasant one, of this much I am sure.” The angel frowns faintly, all knowing eyes looking at both the soundless hunters. “The final seal is broken; the last three and one half years of great tribulation will begin. Satan’s influence must be stopped.”

Bobby’s head turns slightly, mind processing what the angel has just said. Three and a half years? Did he just say three and a half years?

Dean clears his throat, “And how are we….ah…am I supposed to do that?” I can’t believe I’m supposed to stop Satan…geez how’d I get in this mess?

Castiel leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “We have to follow the signs, we have to find him, and then, God will give you the weapon to end his reign of terror before the end of days begins.”

Dean stands back up uncomfortably, nervously shifting from one bare foot to the other. He begins pacing, walking quickly around the furniture in the room.

Bobby watches Dean and smiles mutely. He knows this kid and he recognizes this familiar motion. This is a nervous Dean; this is Dean unsure of what to do.

Dean’s throat fells suddenly very dry and he clears it one more time. He stares at Castiel with a glint of steel blinking into his deep green eyes, arms firmly crossed on his stomach.

“So, you’re asking me to go forward with this based on blind faith, correct? Just knowing that there is a weapon to kill Lucifer, which I may or may not have when I need it?” He glares heatedly at Castiel. That maybe part’s bothering me.

The angel sets silent for a long moment, “Blind faith in God, Dean.”

Dean looks long and hard at Castiel, mind whirling with his thoughts. He huffs out a weighty sigh, eyes flickering over to Bobby. The hunter offers him nothing, just looks blankly back at him.

Bobby’s not sure what to make of any of it; he’s still stuck on the “God hand picked Dean” scenario racing around in his head. He shrugs up his shoulders in a 'whatever' motion at Dean.

The oldest Winchester rolls his eyes as his hands clinch tightly into fists at his sides, “Holy crap, I need a beer,” he mutters as he moves quickly into the kitchen.

-0-

Dean is standing on Bobby’s rickety front porch his face staring up at the dark starless sky. Bobby’s lazy junk yard dog is lying limply by his bare feet. His fingers fumble with the beer bottle grasped tightly in his hand. He shakes his head in disbelieve. It’s hard to imagine the beginning of the apocalypse when the night is so beautiful; a cool breeze blowing lightly around him, sending a minuscule chill up along his spine.

He swigs down a mouthful of the warm ale and gazes out at nothing, his thoughts regurgitating everything that has happened, and wondering about everything that is about to. He realizes he’s the chosen one, the one to smite Lucifer and send him back to hell. All the angels say so, Castiel say’s so. He isn’t too happy with the fact, but he has accepted it. He will do what is required, will save the world, save himself, and save his little brother. After all, that’s what he does.

He smiles to himself, smiting Lucifer is not his biggest concern right now though - that’s sleeping in Bobby’s front bedroom just inside the door. He actually thinks it’s funny that he’d choose Sammy over the apocalypse. Not too sure God knows who he’s got working for him down here. His main concern has always been Sammy, and after the last six months, he realizes it always will be. Nothing can take precedence over Sam, not ever again. Castiel say’s he should leave Sam here, that he is a liability now and that he would be safer on his own. But Dean won’t do it, won’t leave his little brother behind, not again, not ever – Sammy is going with him, and that is just the way it has to be.

He yanks his beer up and swigs down the remaining liquid in one large gulp.

Sammy’s not ready for all this. The kid has no recollection of anything that is going on, anything that has happened in the last couple of years, and Dean doesn’t want to have to be the one to tell him, hates to be the one to shatter his already broken little brother. It just isn’t fair. Jessica, Dad, Ruby. He knows he has to do it though, knows it will be overwhelming. Hell, it freaks me out and I do remember it all.

He slings the beer bottle as far as he can into the darkness, listening as the glass shatters against a mangled old junk heap.

Castiel has offered to help Sam with his recollection, and Dean has really considered letting him. But the angel cannot guarantee Sam’s state of mind. “It would be better if he remembers as his own body permits,” the angel has cautioned both Dean and Bobby. They both know that Sam’s fragile mind has shut out the memories for a reason, gone back to a more innocent time when life was not so difficult for him. Back to the perfect life with Jessica in it, their Dad still alive, and Dean by his side. Dean understands this totally, and if he could do one thing for Sammy he wouldn’t take that security away. But Lucifer is out there, and Sam has demon blood in him for a reason, and he won’t take that chance. First thing in the morning he’ll try and help Sam start to remember, before they leave with Castiel, before they begin the most important hunt of their lives.
:wave :wave :wave

;)
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Eleven

It’s early, before six a.m., and the sun is peaking brightly through the cracks in the ragged drawn curtains of Bobby’s Singers front bedroom. Sam is sound asleep, curled up on his side, peaceful drug induced smile adorning his pale face. Dean is slouched in the chair by the bed, the spot he took up residence in when he finished off several beers the night before.

The older brother never went to bed, thoughts and concerns running continuously around in his tired head. What to tell Sam, how to tell Sam? Jessica, Dad…too much information for Sam to handle? Oh God… That thinking alone threatened to make the older brother sick. And the demon blood? He exhales noiselessly, hanging his weary face forward to rest against his open palms. God, could this get any harder? He pulls his hands slowly upward through his short cropped hair and sighs loudly. His eyes gaze forlornly back over at his resting brother’s face. Sam looks so peaceful. His chestnut brown bangs cascade gently against his face and make him look far younger than he actually is. The large white cast adorning his broken shoulder encompasses almost half his curled up gangly body. Dean smiles to himself, this is familiar, and this is his Sammy, his kid brother. He has spent years watching him sleep, body all twisted up in a ball, face nuzzled tightly against the pillow. How does he do that? The smile fades slowly as the older brother huffs out a gasp of hot air and shakes his head almost angrily at himself. Damn it, how can I do this to him; it’s just not fair to take away the only peace he has had in the last three years?

The older brother mulls his options over and over and over, has been all night long. What to tell Sammy, how to tell Sammy? Finally he’s decides that less is more. He’s going to do what the doctor says, what Bobby has advised, allow Sam’s memories to come back slowly, on their own. He isn’t ready to tell Sam about his addiction to demon blood and Lucifer’s escape from hell, and well, he isn’t so sure he ever will be. Tell him about Jess first; tell him he needs a shot twice a week for low blood sugar? Make something up, Jesus….I don’t want to have to lie to him, but he’s not ready.

Decision made, he will do what is best for Sam, regardless if it is a little white lie. For now it is going to have to do, Sammy will understand later. The older brother pushes to stand, thinks he might possibly be able to doze now and get some much needed sleep. He staggers slowly from the room.

-0-

Sam’s sleep is anything but peaceful, he’s dreaming, images flashing rapidly through his mind - Jessica gazing hauntingly at him, “Why Sam? His father’s stern military voice yells at him, screams, “Shoot me, Shoot me now, Sam!” Then there’s blood and fire, and darkness. A russet haired girl urges him forward, begs him with pleading eyes, “What are you waiting for?! Now! Sam, now!” Her face contorts into a dark, menacing snarl as she whispers wickedly, “You saved us, you set him free!” And then a bright white light washes over him like a wave. It takes his breath away.

He bolts upright in the bed, wide eyed, gasping in a ragged gulp of air. Pain cascades quickly through his head, his arm, and his shoulder as he struggles to reorient himself to his surroundings. Where am I? What was that?

“You’re okay, Sam.” A gruff older voice whispers. It is familiar, gentle, and heavy with concern.

Sam feels the mattress dip with additional weight as he blinks quickly to clear his foggy vision. His sluggish head tilts slightly, deep hazel orbs gazing hazily at Bobby Singer through his damp and matted bangs. He feel’s firm fingers grip at his good arm, then a sharp pin prick that barely breaks the skin. He glances down at his arm and shudders in several quick wheezes of air. He blinks blankly back at Bobby as the sleep induced haze finally starts to lift.

“Easy Sam, it’s okay.”

“Did you just give me a shot?” Sam asks in slight confusion as Bobby helps him scoot up against the pillows.

The older man smiles, syringe waggling in his fingers as he stands and dumps the used needle in the trash can.

“Yeah, don’t you remember? Bobby’s mind races, what to tell Sam? “Doc says you have high blood sugar.”

Sam looks at him curiously.

Bobby sighs, but smiles at the kid. “Its okay, Sam, it will help you to feel better. Remember, they said you need a shot a couple a times a week.”

Sam frowns slightly, “I don’t remember.” Innocent eyes looked at the older man’s face. “But then, I don’t remember a lot.”

“I’ll get you some breakfast, you just rest.” That’s it Singer, change the subject.

Bobby pats Sam’s blanket covered kneecap, then eases backwards toward the door. A smile plastered on his face.

Sam’s eyes droop slightly as he nuzzles against the pillows.

Bobby moves silently out the door, eyes flickering forlornly back at the dozing figure slumped against the bed. God, I hate lying to the kid, but its better if he remembers on his own…

-0-

Dean stumbles slowly down the stairs toward the bedroom to check on his little brother. His little nap has turned into a half a day sleep a thon, and now he is angry with himself for sleeping so long. He knows Castiel is chomping at the bit to hit the road. He looks in through the doorway to see the rumpled bed coverings, but no Sam. He vaguely hears the sounds of muffled words and moves quickly toward the living room. He is surprised when he finds Sam resting horizontally on the couch watching television, as Bobby lounges in the chair.

“Sam’s feeling better,” Bobby says as he glances up at Dean.

Dean notices that the television is on some corny documentary on the education network. Geez, these two are just alike.

“Hey Dean,” Sam says with a light smile as he gazes up from his prone position to look tiredly at his older brother.

Dean plops down against the couch by Sam’s blanket covered feet.

“Hey kiddo, so you’re feeling better?” he queries, face laden with concern.

“Yeah, I am.” Sam grins at Dean making the older brother smile.

“It’s about time you got up; it’s after 2:00 p.m. I though you were gonna sleep all damn day.” Bobby snorts out, “You know I got stuff to do?”

The senior hunter mutes the television and moves quickly to stand up. “I’m going outside and work for awhile.” He nods silently at Dean, dark eyes glaring with the ‘you need to tell him look’ as he hands the remote to Sam.

Dean grimaces and turns his face from Bobby’s stare, “I need some coffee.”

“Just made a fresh pot,” Bobby’s hand waggles toward the kitchen as he exits hastily out through the front door.

Dean stands and shuffles to the kitchen, makes himself a stiff cup of coffee, and tugs in a heavy sigh. He moves slowly back into the living room, dread edging its way to the surface as he looks silently over at Sam. Where to start, how to start?

“We need to talk,” Dean whispers, butt slumping back down to the couch, intense green eyes looking across at his pale sibling. The coffee cups shakes lightly in his fingers and he grips at it tightly.

“What?” Sam says as he mutes the TV and stares with wide curious eyes at his older brother.

Dean’s looks uncomfortably down at the carpet, suddenly finding the dirty smudge from who knows what very interesting. He grips the coffee cup with a vengeance, coffee sloshing out over the edge.

Sam sees something in his brother’s face, fear, remorse, dread. “Dean?” Sam questions weakly as he pushes himself up on the couch with his wobbly arms, “What is it?”

“Where is the sling for your arm?” Dean asks curiously as he watches his little brother attempt to move up on the couch.

“Don’t change the subject, Dean. What is it?”

Dean looks sadly at Sam, his innocent and totally oblivious little brother. God, this is hard. He firms up his shoulders, ready for the backlash, and he whispers, “It’s Jess.”

:cry :cry :cry

:cry :melt :o :unsure: :rolleyes: <_<

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. You guys are the best. Sorry, but I can only seem to post a chapter a week. It’s not from lack of trying; life just seems to be getting in the way!!

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Twelve

Dean reaches over and grips Sam’s good arm helping his wobbly brother to set up higher on the couch. The blanket covering Sam’s long legs tumbles to the floor. Dean lifts his eyes, his chin tucking tightly to his chest, shielding his face from Sam’s. His deep green eyes are the window to his soul, and he knows they will reveal something he isn’t ready for Sam to see yet. The older brother clears his throat uncomfortably; he knows he’s stalling for time. God, I don’t want to do this.

“What about Jess?” Sam’s voice quivers out in a low whisper, his heart thudding loudly against chest. He stares blankly at his older brother.

“Hey kiddo, do you remember that the doctor said you lost some of your memories?” Dean grips one hand firmly against one of Sam’s kneecaps as he gazes at the floor.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam looks curious and afraid all at the same time, wide hazel eyes looking at Dean like when he's five years old, wanting Dean to make it all better. “What about Jess?” he asks softly as the color drains slowly from his face.

“Sam,” Dean raises his head, looking at his little brother’s face. He knows Sam can see the hurt and pain in his clear green orbs, knows he’s scaring his little brother. Just say it, get it over with… “Sammy, Jessica’s dead.” His hand squeezes Sam’s kneecap tightly, attempting to ground Sam to him, keep him close.

Sam’s head shakes slowly back and forth as he suck in a gasp of air, “No, no, no Dean, she’s at school, I….I….we…we left her there, remember? You came and got me, so we could go find Dad.”

Dean reaches both hands up and grabs Sam by the forearms. “Sammy,” he says gently as he looks him directly in the eye, “She died three years ago, in a fire - Just like mom.”

Sam looks crushed, grief suddenly seeming to overcome him; his huge eyes stare questioningly at Dean. Suddenly, he pushes away, struggles to break free of his brother grip. He succeeds and his shaky arms wind mill him backwards as he scoots across the couch. I don’t want to hear this. “No, Dean, no, that’s not right,” he states angrily.

Dean watches in shock, not sure what to do for Sam.

Large tears form quickly in Sam’s eyes. Why are you lying to me…why…why? Why Sam, why? Suddenly, a flash of memory crashes over him like a wave and quickly pulls him under. His pupils constrict as his vision blurs, and he can’t seem to get in any air. All he sees now is Jess - pinned to the ceiling of their apartment, whispering, why Sam, why Sam, over and over and over. His butt drops abruptly to the floor as he flounders to get away from his thoughts, from the picture inside his head. No, this can’t be right, no, no, no, no, no.

Dean recognizes Sam is going into shock, his brothers eyes have constricted, and his breath is in short unstable gasps. Perspiration has suddenly appeared on Sam’s pale unbelieving face.

“Sam…” Dean grabs for the flailing arms pulling Sam’s uncooperative body back up against the couch, “Easy kiddo, its okay.” He glances at his brother’s unresponsive face. He tugs Sam into a hug, but Sam fights against him, still struggling to break free from his nightmare.

“Easy Sammy, calm down, its okay, just breath, I gotcha,” Dean’s strong arms fold around his brother, pulling him close, holding him firmly up against his chest. The kid’s body shakes uncontrollably from the realization of the truth, a memory Dean realizes he doesn’t want to have.

Sam shudders, he remembers it all now, coming home to Jess, telling Dean good bye, and then seeing Jessica on the ceiling, burning…flames licking at her skin, blood dripping on his face. Oh God, no…

“NO, No, no,” Sam whimpers as tears cascade quickly down his face, his entire body quivering with unrelenting sorrow. He buries his face against his brother’s chest, fingers pulling and tugging the material of Dean’s tee shirt, barely hanging on to reality.

Dean tucks his little brother’s head beneath his chin, his gentle hand gripping Sam at the nap of his neck, pressing him firmly against his chest. Brown wayward hair tickles his chin just like when Sam was a child. He rocks gently to and fro. “Its okay kiddo, it’ll be okay,” he whispers gently against the side of Sam’s damp face. The tears well up in his green eyes as the memories of the day Jess died assault him and hold him captive with a vengeance. I wish it wasn’t true. Sam, I wish it wasn’t true.

And Sam cries harder, chest heaving to gulp in air as his world seems to crash in down around him.

-0-

Castiel is setting quietly at the kitchen table with Bobby trying to act like they aren’t listening to what’s going on in the living room. It’s breaking Bobby’s heart to listen to Sam’s heaving sobs as he remembers what happened to his girlfriend. Castiel doesn’t really look too comfortable with it either.

“Want some more coffee,” the tired hunter asks as he stands and grabs the pot.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Castiel nods and watches Bobby refill his cup. “We need to leave here today,” the angel says informatively. “Lucifer is leaving a path of destruction, and we have to find him.”

“Dean knows that, but we needed to tie up these loose ends with Sam.” Bobby slumps back against the chair, chewing incessantly on his lower lip as he purposely ease drops on the other room. Sam sounds pitiful…Jesus, I hate this.

“It will be hard for Sam,” the angel says sympathetically.

Bobby grimaces. This is just crap. He frowns, and gulps down a swig of his coffee, fingers gripping the well worn cup tightly in his hand. Can’t anyone cut the Winchesters a break once and a while?

Castiel nods slowly, “God is aware Bobby Singer.”

Bobby looks up wide eyed at the angel. crap. “Stop reading my mind,” he spits out heatedly.

The messenger of God smiles minutely, and then pulls the piping hot cup of coffee up against his lips. He knows that Dean has to tell Sam at least some of what he’s lost, but he isn’t really sure how much the older brother is letting out of the bag. It would be better if Sam’s memories come on his own… He remembers the conversation he had with Dean, knows the older brother will do what is best for Sam. He also realizes that no matter what he tells Dean, what his advice is, Dean has decided that Sam is coming with them. Although Castiel doesn’t agree, he knows it doesn’t matter. He worries though, Sam has demon blood flowing through his veins, and Lucifer knows that. He will be looking for Sam, trying to pull him back into the fold.

“We will all have to watch out for Sam.” Castiel says hauntingly as he pushes away from the table.

Bobby’s head rises to stare questioningly at the angel.

“Lucifer will want him back.” And with those words, Castiel moves toward the door. He turns, blue eyes gleaming intently at Bobby Singer’s face. “I’ll be waiting, please tell Dean to yell for me when he’s ready to go.”

Bobby watches as the angel leaves the room, the back door banging harshly in his wake. Dean yelling for an angel – amazing. He drops his face into his open hands and sighs. I’m not sure going after Lucifer with Sam in tow is the best thing we could be doing. He knows it’s a futile argument. Dean is going to bring Sam with him, end of story.

-0-

Sam’s stopped crying now, his body too worn out to do anything but lean against his older brother. Dean’s still wrapped around him, holding him close and cooing lightly in his ear.

“Shush, its okay Sammy.”

Dean doesn’t know how long they have been sitting like this, wrapped tightly up together while Sam tries to comprehend what his brother has just told him, that his girlfriend, his Jess, is dead. His brother has stopped crying so hard, just twitching slightly in Dean’s grasp. The only sounds are the muffled voices in the other room and Sam’s hiccupping breath.

“Dean,” the younger brother whispers so low that Dean almost doesn’t hear.

Dean tilts his head and pushes away slightly. His head bows down to look in Sam’s unfocused eyes.

“Dad,” Sam’s voice quivers, “Is he?” I know the answer, I remember …

Grief is strange, all the hurt and pain rolls back over Dean as if their Dad had died again today. Fresh tears well up in his own eyes as he looks at Sam’s distraught face, “Yes, Sammy,” he says sadly, “Dad’s dead too.”

:clap

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Thirteen

“The signs all point to Latitude 34, Longitude -118,” Castiel says as he watches Bobby pull a tattered map from the old chest of drawers in the corner.

“That’s right here,” Bobby states as he flattens out the worn drawing on the kitchen table. It takes only a moment for him to identify the exact location; his finger setting firmly on the mark.

Sam’s very weak and wobbly and should really be in bed, but instead, he’s seated at the table, his face shrouded beneath his too-long chestnut hair, carefully under Dean’s ever watchful eye. Sam’s injuries, the reality of Jessica’s death, and then their Dad’s, well, Dean’s afraid to leave his little brother alone, even for a short amount of time.

The older brother is standing firmly next to Sam’s chair, hand gripping tightly to his sibling’s shoulder blade. He’s hanging onto Sammy like a lifeline grounding his brother to the here and now. The kid’s been through a lot, they both have, but at least he can remember it all, Sammy’s not so lucky. He leans forward and looks intently down at the document Bobby’s smoothing out across the sticky table.

“Well, son of a bitch isn’t that Devils Gate Reservoir.” Dean’s twists his head from the map to gaze quickly over at Bobby.

“Damn,” the senior hunter says in surprise.

Dean stares in sheer amazement. He turns his head to look at Sam’s face, hoping the kid has some recollection of what they’re even talking about.

Sam’s hazel eyes rise from the spot on the linoleum floor to look quizzically at his older brother. “Isn’t that were Jo’s dad, Bill Harvelle, was killed hunting the hell spawn?” he whispers curiously. I think I remember something about that…

Dean grins. Sam’s starting to remember… He lets his eyes dart across to Bobby, a slight smile curling to the older man’s lips.

Sam’s elbows suddenly pull up against the tabletop, his head resting inside his open hands, his fingers massage intensely at his temples. “I remember…” he says in a low, barely audible, whisper.

Dean recognizes the sign of a headache when he sees’s one, and his happiness immediately begins to fade. He looks at his brother’s paling face.

“Sammy? You okay?” He asks softly as his grip tightens on Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Sam mumbles, “Just a headache.” Flashes of images bear down against his closed eyelids and he rubs his fingers against his brows and forehead attempting to push the horrid images from inside his aching head. Jessica dying, Dad lying limp on a hospital floor, Dean being clawed to death by hell hounds. He shudders in a trembling breath. I remember… don’t want to remember…don’t want to…

“Don’t fight it Sam.” Castiels voice is firm.

Sam’s head pulls up from his hands, large, sad eyes gazing at the angel.

Dean frowns at Gods orator. What the crap does that mean? “Sammy,” he asks gently as he leans down to look his little brother in the eye. “Do you need to lie down?”

“No,” Sam says weakly.

The youngest Winchester attempts to set up straighter in the chair.

“You sure?” Dean asks with concern.

“No…no, Dean. Castiel’s right, I need to…need to remember…’m fine…really.” His hands descend slowly from his face to rest shakily against the table top; his fingers mingling in a nervous twist. Please don’t treat me like a baby…please…

Bobby glares at Dean, his intense eyes relaying one message firmly. Give the kid some space.

Dean pulls back, recognizing his baby brother’s need to be in control.

“Well,” he says hesitantly, “okay then.” He turns slightly to face Castiel, Sam still in his periphery, “So tell us what the plan is?” He clears his throat, his hand never moving from the nap of Sam’s neck.

Castiel frowns, he can read Sam’s thoughts, knows the kid’s got a mass of jumbled up memories just waiting to break free. He hates that Sam has to go through all this, he hates that Dean does too. He watches Sam for a long moment, nods at Dean, and focuses on the task at hand.

-0-

Sam’s sitting on the swing on Bobby Singer’s front porch watching as his older brother and surrogate father load up the Impala. The drive to Pasadena California is going to be a long one and it’s taking a lot of time to collect everything they might need. As Bobby always says,” better safe than sorry.” The youngest Winchester’s head slowly lolls to the side and he jerks it back up. He blinks and rubs his tired eyes. He re-props his head back up against his hand. I wish they’d let me help. Slowly his head rolls downward against his lax fingers as he fights to keep his heavy eyelids open.

Bobby nudges Dean with his shoulder, “Look’s like Sam’s asleep again,” he waggles his head toward the porch.

A Dean smile lifts brightly to the older brother’s face. Sam’s asleep, cheek smashed hard against his curled up fingers, elbow wobbling unsteadily on the swing. Sound asleep.

“He looks so damn young sitting there like that.” The older hunter mutters as he fumbles with the salt rounds and blinks back the moisture that is suddenly building in his eyes. Damn it, why do his boy’s always have such a rough time?

Dean nods silently, gaze darting from Sam to Bobby. Is he about to cry? He looks away, focuses on the gun he has in his fingers. He doesn’t want Bobby to think he’s watching him, nor that he notices the excessive blinking of the older man’s eyes.

The senior hunter clears his throat uncomfortably. “I’m getting him a blanket,” he says as he quickly drops what he is holding and disappears inside the house.

Dean stares blankly after their old friend, knowing he’s the only family that they have now, knowing how he tends to worry. He’s all talk, just an old softy at heart. He continues checking their weapons as he watches Bobby’s silent return, callous fingers draping a worn out woolen quilt down against his sleeping sibling’s limbs. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Bobby gently pushes the hair away from Sam’s sleeping face. He looks away, not wanting to intrude on any special moment that Bobby may be having with his little brother.

Dean feels suddenly anxious, a large lump sitting heavily in his throat. He feels like maybe he can’t protect Sam, can’t save himself, let alone anyone else. This is all spinning way out of my control. He huffs in a tense breath, steadies his slightly shaking hands, and ponders the implications of the last words spoken to him by Castiel. He was full of doubts and self recrimination last night as he stood outside on Bobby’s porch, the angel standing silently beside him.

“We will succeed,” the angel had said with confidence; his hand tugging up slowly to rest against Dean’s arm.

And the oldest Winchester suddenly felt complete calmness, something he had never known before, blissfulness that he simply couldn’t explain.

“We’ll do what is necessary, Dean. My Father is on our side, always remember that.”

:cheer :cheer :cheer
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

A/N: To everyone who has reviewed this story, and you know who you are, I thank you. I wanted to reply to each and every one, but have been terribly swamped at work and it’s all I can do to get the chapters posted each week. Sorry for the delay and so glad you are sticking with me.

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Fourteen

Drawing in a deep breath Dean pulls a hand sharply down his jaw then rests it against the steering wheel. He stares out the driver’s windshield at the winding highway; the steam wafting up above the center line. The sun is dipping below the horizon, deep orange rays languishing sluggishly in the sky. He pushes his face unintentionally toward the side window allowing the warm breeze to brush against his cheek. They’d hit the road just before sundown, leaving Singer Salvage far behind. He and Bobby had hoped to make the ride a bit cooler, for Sam, but August was not the best month to be trekking across the countryside in a black car without air conditioning.

The older brother’s fingers yank up the bottle of tepid water from the bench seat and hold it gingerly to his lips. Damn it’s hot. He eyes Bobby Singers flushed face as the older hunter glares attentively out the front windshield, the perspiration obvious as it rests against his brow. Dean swigs the lukewarm water down in one long gulp and flings the empty plastic container haphazardly out the driver’s side window.

Bobby’s head tilts slightly, eyes glancing over to look at the driver, a small frown curling to his lips. He shakes his head at Dean, but he keeps his mouth shut tight and glares back out the window.

Dean just shrugs unconsciously at his older passenger, a light grin curling to his lips. He gazes momentarily in the rearview mirror at his little brother. Sam is pale; perspiration decorating his weary face. This kid is way too quiet. His chestnut hair is damp, matted in stringy ringlets all across his sweaty forehead. He looks tired and sluggish as he stares blankly out the window. I wish we could’ve let him rest a few more days.

Sam glances upward toward the mirror. His wide hazels look fleetingly at Dean, a ghost of a smile crosses his drawn lips before he drops his brother’s gaze and stares back out the window.

Dean’s so worried; his big brother alarms are working overtime. It’s Sam’s mental state that concerns him the most. Gone is the independent Sam that kills demons with his mind, told Dean he didn’t need him, and hunted on his own. Back is Sammy, the dependent little brother that Dean remembers from long ago - the kid that needs his big brother. It bothers Dean immensely that Sammy still doesn’t remember everything, the occurrences at the St Mary’s Covenant, or Lucifer’s rise from hell. No memories of demon tainted blood have haunted him yet and what Sam doesn’t remember, scares the crap out of Dean. When will Sam remember? How will he react? That thought alone is overwhelming and baring heavy on the old brother’s soul.

Dean sighs silently to himself - too many thoughts are swirling in his head. Quit worrying… He takes one last look at Sam, then, focuses on the music that’s blaring through the radio. His fingers thump out the staccato rhythm against the steering wheel, keeping time with the tune as he attempts to occupy his mind. A genuine smile crosses his lips as he remembers Bobby’s words from earlier, “Turn that damn music down Dean, holy crap, it’s already giving me a headache and we just left the house.” He grins at the thought, Bobby reminds him of his Dad. He realizes now that Bobby Singer is a blessing given to him and Sam, he needs him, and so, it seems, does Sam.

-0-

The Impala pulls over sometime around 1:00 a.m., the bright red vacancy sigh calling out to Dean. He looks from Bobby to Sam. Both of his riders are dozing against the leather seats, unaware the car has even stopped. He’s tired, ready for some sleep himself. He eyeballs the run down motel, praying that the air conditioning works. He nudges open the drivers door quietly, and eases from the car.

“Dean?” Sam’s anxious eyes dart open, sleep laden voice mumbling.

Dean leans in through the driver’s window to look his heavy-eyed little brother in the face. “It’s okay Sammy I’m just getting us a room.”

Sam still looks anxious, like he doesn’t want Dean to go. “Okay,” he finally says as he briefly nods his head. “I’m hot,” he sighs.

“I know Sammy.” Damn, I wish this car had freaking air conditioning. “We’ll get you inside where it’s cooler in just a second buddy,” the older brother says gently.

Bobby Singer moves slightly in the seat, his eyes flutter open with a grunt. He swipes his hand up across his face, then fingers off his ball cap, the sweat beading on his brow. “Son a bitch,” he spits out, “make sure the damn a/c works.”

Dean almost laughs. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so damn hot.

Sam’s head tilts to the side as he grins at Bobby’s words. He watches through the dirty windshield as his older brother makes his way inside the motel office.

And in the distance, heat lightning flashes against the blustery night sky. A dark maroon Chevy truck eases into the far end of the parking lot and flips off its headlights. Two large men, with biddy black eyes, watch the parked Impala, snarly grins curling to their lips.

-0-

Sam had been pushed to the very limit of his endurance, and he doesn’t know how to find his way back. His mind graces him with flashes of memories, thoughts he can’t quite seem to grasp. Images of demons, and blood, and Ruby.

Dean’s pulled from his sleep by something, and he blinks blankly in the dark. He’s trained himself to be awake whenever Sammy’s in distress. The rustling of sheets, the whimpers of a little brother, sounds he’s heard his entire life. Sam’s having a nightmare. He immediately sets up, eyes falling to the clock. It’s 4:15 a.m. Damn, kids not been asleep too long. He flips on the light and see’s Bobby’s eyes dart open from his position sleeping in the chair. Both men look intently as Sam. The blankets are all askew. Sam’s tee-shirt is clinging to his sweat laden body, his head tossing to and fro. Okay, have to wake him up.

Dean flings the sheets back as Bobby pushes to set up straighter in the chair.

Dean moves quickly across to the opposite bed, mattress squeaking with is weight. His fingers grab Sam’s forearms, holding him tightly in his grip.

“Sammy?”

Bobby watches, silently, not wanting to make the situation any worse. He remembers Sammy’s nightmares, and he knows the only one to calm the kid is Dean. Dean can take care of this, always has.

“Hey, Sammy, wake up kiddo,” Dean says gently.

Sam struggles against Dean’s hold, low whimpers sliding from his lips.

“No, no, no…I’m sorry…Dean…I’m sorry…” The sleeping man sobs as his strong arms flail around, struggling to escape his brother hold.

Dean’s body goes rigid, his heart aching with concern. Please don’t let him remember it all like this – not as nightmares, please.

“Sammy,” Dean says louder as he gives Sam a little shake.

The voices resound in Sammy’s head.

“She’s poison, Sam! Dean snaps.

“It’s not what you think, Dean,” Sam begins.

“Look what she did to you!” Dean yells, “I mean, she up and vanishes weeks at a time, leaves you cracking for another hit?”

“She’s looking for Lilith!” Sam defends loudly.

“That’s French for manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday!” Dean says.

“You’re wrong, Dean!” Sam says.

Dean just shakes his head. “Sammy, you’re lying to yourself! I just want you to be okay. You would do the same for me, you know you would.”

Wide hazel eyes suddenly dart open, Sam taking a gasping breath. Normally he would be soothed by Dean’s touch, comforted by his gentle words, but not this time, his body begins to shake uncontrollably. What was that? His thoughts are muffled and confused.

Dean grips his brother tighter, “Sammy,” his voice laden with concern. Sam looks scared, body quivering visibly. His wide eyes focus on Dean’s face, tears welling quickly to his lids.

“Dean?”

:cry

Okay, I finally got this story caught back up on this site- now to move it forward. Thanks for reading!!

;)
I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting, life has been crazy lately.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Fifteen

Sam’s slumped against Dean’s shoulder, forehead nuzzled in against his brother’s chest. I can’t breathe. He panted heavily for air.

“Calm down Sammy, you had a nightmare.”

His body quivers, sweat dampening his brow. It isn’t real. Just a nightmare – Dean says so. He heaves in another large gulp of air as his brother’s firm hand swipes against his cheeks. Am I crying?

“It’s okay Sammy.” Dean wraps his strong arms instinctively around his little brother, tugging him up against his side. The kid is visibly shivering. This nightmare was a bad one. “Will you get him some water?” The older brother whispers to someone else inside the room.

Sam hears the muffled voices, he thinks it might be Bobby, but right now he isn’t sure. His eyes are still tightly closed attempting to keep the remnants of the nightmare away. Thoughts still drifting in his head. “She’s poison, Sam! It’s not what you think, Dean. That’s French for manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday!”

“D…Dean,” Sam whispers softly, a tight knot resting in his chest. What’d I do? He looks with fear filled, confused eyes up at Dean. He pants in air. Ruby lied, Ruby lied, she lied, I trusted her, she lied… Dean was right, Dean was right. Ruby’s words ring inside his head mocking him, suffocating him. You did this, you opened the door. He’s free at last. And it is written…that the first demon shall be the last seal - you had it in you the whole time, dumbo.Tears roll unabated down his cheeks and he shudders. Just a nightmare, not real, didn’t happen.

“I’m right here kiddo,” Dean offers reassuringly as he tucks Sam’s head beneath his chin, fingers pressed against the back of the wayward hair, holding the trembling limbs firmly to his chest. Please don’t let him remember things this way.

Sam nuzzles into Dean, the warmth and comfort he has known his entire life. It’s familiar and he needs it right now, foreboding running just beneath his skin. He’s afraid. He sucks in another shaky breath. “What’d I do Dean?” he asked in a low barely audible whisper.

Dean’s heart beats faster in his chest. Does he remember? “Breath Sammy, that’s it. Just calm down, it was a nightmare, that’s all.” Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…

They set in silence for what seems like forever, something they haven’t done in a quite awhile - - Sam recovering from the nightmare and Dean consoling his little brother.

“Here,” Bobby offers up a cup of tepid water.

Dean nods and reaches out to accept it. He steers the glass up towards Sam’s mouth, “Here you go – slowly sips, Sammy.”

Sam feels the dampness pressed against his lips and he blinks open his burning lids. The wet liquid rolls soothingly down his parched throat, his shaky hands reaching for the cup.

Dean hesitantly relinquishes it, the water sloshing out the sides with Sam’s unsteady grip. “Whoa, you got it?”

Sam nods his head slightly, gulping greedily at the water, his wide, fear-filled eyes looking sadly up at Dean.

The senior hunters watch the younger man with concern. The kids face is flushed, his sweaty hair matted to his forehead. He looks scared to death. The dream has obviously taken a toll. Dean glances over to Bobby, the older hunter’s face telling him all he needs to know.

“Small sips, Sammy.” Dean says firmly as he focuses back on his little brother. Sam’s breathe is evening out now, his body slouching down against the bed.

The younger brother frowns, but complies and eases back on the cup of water.

Momentarily, the older brother leans in and takes the cup totally away. Oh man, don’t give me that look, that I’m your little brother please let me have it look. “Sorry,” he says gently, “Don’t want you to get sick.”

“It’s okay,” Sam finally whispers as he pulls to set up straighter on the bed. He looks at his older brother for a long moment; face pale, worry lines wrinkling around his eyes. He looks across at Bobby.

The senior hunter gives Sam a reassuring smile. “You okay kid?”

“Ye…yeah, I think so.” Sam’s voice trembles as his mind attempts to comprehend what he’s just seen. I’m not okay at all. His memories are so skewed, he can’t tell what’s real and what’s the dream. Did that really happen?

“You just rest now.” The surrogate father pats Sammy on the ankle then moves back to the chair, easing down against it. He glances at the clock on the nightstand, flashing 5:05 a.m., as he puts back on his boots. He yanks up his baseball cap and stows it neatly back against his thinning hair. I’ll just leave them to this. “I’m going for coffee.” he says hastily as he reaches for the door. He gives Dean one last look, eyes saying a million different words.

Dean nods slightly, he knows what the older hunter means for him to do. He doesn’t like it, but he knows it needs to be done. I have to tell Sam about Ruby. A heavy feeling rests inside his stomach and he feels like he’s been punched. The motel door clicks shut. This is not going to be easy, but I can’t let Sam remember this way. I just can’t.

-0-

The tiny motel room is silent except for the whirling of the air conditioning fan.

Dean watches his little brother, wishing he didn’t have to tell the kid what he knows about his dreams. He tugs a hand through his short hair. Sam had been through so much since that night at the St. Mary’s Covenant, waking up from a head injury with absolutely no memories of what he did. While Dean knew he’d probably remember, the doctors had said he would in time, Dean didn’t want it to be like this. Hell, he didn’t know how it would ever be a good thing for Sam to remember any of it, and he wished he didn’t have to tell him. All Dean could do now was attempt to make it easier on Sam, let him know his big brother was here – that he always would be, no matter what. He sighed and pulled the chair Bobby had vacated over next to the bed.

“So,” Dean sat down. He tugged his empty hands down the top of his blue jeans, eyeing the dirty floor for a silent moment. “You feeling better now?”

Sam nodded. He heaved a weary sigh. “It was…just…so…so real, Dean.” The little brother’s fingers grasped at the sheet, twisting and turning it into a knot.

Dean sighed. Sam knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind what Dean was going to say, and that notion just ripped the older man apart. He had to tell his brother the truth.

“Sam, I…well, we need to talk about your nightmare.”

Sam looked forlornly up at Dean. “No, no Dean…I…I don’t want to,” he stuttered out. The fingers of his left hand were taking on a dark blue hue as he wrapped them tightly in the covers.

Dean smiled weakly; he reached up and tugged the sheet from Sam’s floundering hands. “I’m sorry Sammy, but…but it wasn’t a dream…it’s what happened.”

“No Dean, no, that can’t be right.” Tears welled up to the little brothers eyes and he shook his head vehemently. “No, no, no, no, no…”

Dean moved hastily to the side of the bed, arms reaching out to pull Sam back against him. He felt his little brother heaving as tears rolled forlornly down his face.

Sam pushed, arms flailing around, attempted to pull away from his older brother’s grasp. “No Dean, no, I don’t understand.”

Dean did not relent, just held on tighter.

Moist eyes peered up at Dean through too long wayward bangs - begging Dean to lie.

Dean swallowed convulsively. Sam looked so lost, afraid, out of control. Dean suddenly wanted to make it all just go away. To go back to the days when all they did was hunt the supernatural and no demons or angels were involved. But, he couldn’t make that happen. Sam had to face the truth.

“It’s all true Sammy. All of it, you did hook up with Ruby. You were at odds with me. We lied to each other,” he sighed, “everyday.”

Sam lower lip quivered, his body heaving as tears wracked his weary frame.

It broke Dean’s heart, but he continued, knowing his brother needed to know, had to know.

“You were tricked by demons, Sam. I was duped by angels. We were both lied to from the very start.” He pulled his little brother back against him, tears welling up in his emerald eyes. “You…Sam,” Dean voice quivered, “You were front and center in raising Lucifer from hell.”
:cry :fire :fire :rant :fire :fire :fire

awesome updates :)! just wanted to let you know that I'm still reading this :D.

Wow, I got writer of the month!! I am doing the happy dance!!! :wave :cloud9 :thud :clap

Congrats dear,I'm going to read your story :D

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

A/N: Moving right along, some action to come around the limpness, I promise.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Sixteen

The conversation between Dean and Sam had been the most difficult one Dean had ever remembered having with his little brother. Sam cried, and denied. Dean comforted and consoled. Sam wanted it all to be a lie, and Dean did too, unfortunately, it wasn’t.

Bobby returned to the room with hot coffee and breakfast to find Sam nuzzled up against his older brothers chest, Dean rocking him slightly and cooing in his ear. His sad eyes looked blankly out at nothing. It broke the older hunter’s heart to see such devastation written on the kid’s face.

They ate their breakfast in uncomfortable silence, the older men hovering, watching, encouraging Sam to eat. No such luck, Sam’s food remained untouched and resting on the tabletop. After a good ten minutes of coaxing, the older men gave up, and Dean ordered his little brother into the shower.

“No if’s or but’s Sammy, you’re taking a shower.” He said in his best John Winchester ‘I’m giving you an order’ voice.

He ushered Sam into the bathroom, laid out his clothes on the toilet seat, turned on the warm water, and then, backed slowly from the room. “You got this – right, kiddo?” He gazed with gentle eyes at Sam.

Sam looked shaky, unsteady, but after a moment, he slowly nodded yes.

Dean grinned, and in his ‘I’m taking care of you’ voice stated, “I’ll be right outside,” His forefinger pointed into the motel room, “Right out here, if you need me.” The older brother closed the door.

Dean turned and let his weary head thump back against the wooden doorway; his fingers still hovering on the doorknob just behind his back. He sighed and cast his deep emerald eyes over to stare at Bobby.

“He doesn’t look so good.” The older hunter whispered sadly.

“No, No…he’s not good.” Dean’s fingers released the doorway and made a beeline up to tug roughly through his hair. He looked at the dirty carpet and heaved a weary breath. “God, Bobby, this just isn’t fair. Sammy has been through so much already. To make him go through all of this again, well, it…it just sucks,” he hissed out angrily.

“Yeah, I hear ya.” The older hunter frowned. “Did you tell him,” he paused,” everything?”

“Well, I told him everything,” Dean swallowed the lump sitting in his throat, “but…”

“But what, Dean,” Bobby’s brows furrowed. I already know the answer.

Moisture rose in the older brothers eyes and he blinked it back. “I just couldn’t tell him about…about the demons blood making him stronger, that he was addicted to it.” Dean’s sighed shakily. “I just couldn’t…I couldn’t say the words, Bobby, he didn’t ask, I didn’t tell.”

Bobby saw the shudder as it ran tightly through Dean’s limbs. His hands came up decisively to grasp the younger hunter by the arms. “It’s okay Dean…he knows…he’ll remember...on his own.”

Dean looked him directly in the eye, didn’t pull away, almost leaning into the older man for support. “You really think so?” he asked someone disbelievingly. “He asked me about Ruby, seemed overwhelmed when I told him about his friendship with her. He recalled the distance that had grown between us this past year - since my return from hell. I think he knew that he remembered releasing Lucifer from hell, that’s when he quit talking about it, he just started to cry.” Dean blinked back the tears brimming on his eyelashes; he stared at Bobby sadly. Suddenly he felt like he needed to defend his actions. “He didn’t ask me about the blood, Bobby, and I certainly wasn’t going to throw that on him, talk about it, if he wasn’t ready yet. “

“No, no Dean, you did fine.” Bobby released his grip and patted his surrogate son roughly on the arms. “Let him remember it in his own time, it’s all in his head Dean, he just has to come to terms with it, then - - then he’ll remember.” Bobby nodded firmly.

They heard the shower turn off and both men looked at the bathroom door and then back at one another. They scrambled for their duffle bags, fingers fumbling to stuff at their belongings, to be busy when Sam came out of the bathroom. Two sets of eyes darted up to look at the unstable form as Sam pushed the door slowly open; the steam wafting out around the room. The kid looked sad, out of sorts, tired, run-down, but he still managed to give them both a meager smile.

Thirty minutes later, with little sleep between them, the three hunters loaded back up in the Impala and hit the winding road.

-0-

Sam was going through the motions, doing what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t seem to think very clearly, so he’d decided, if Dean told him to do it, then he’d just do as he was told. His mind kept running amuck with memories of things that happened that he didn’t want to know. He blinks out blankly at the scenery that is rolling by the window, his mind a million miles away.

Dean starts forward pulling out the knife, as Ruby stands.

“You’re too late,” she says.

“I don’t care,” Dean growls, and raises his arm.

Just as Ruby is about to move, Sam grabs her arms from behind, keeping her still and Dean stabs here in the stomach. She falls to the ground, dead.

Dean slowly raises his eyes to look at Sam.

Sam looks back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says.

At that moment, a light suddenly appears in the middle of the circle of blood, and the circle begins to turn. The boys watch in horror. Dean slowly raises his hand and grabs Sam’s jacket, just as Sam reaches for his.

“Sammy, let’s go, “Dean says.

“Dean,” Sam says weakly, “He’s coming.”

The boys hold onto each other as the light burns brighter. Lucifer is rising.

A shudder runs through his weary frame and he tugs his arms up around his stomach, holding himself tighter, as he swallows down the bile. He wants to turn his mind off, to stop remembering. He doesn’t want to know all this, he doesn’t want to remember. He chews unconsciously on his lower lip until he tastes the metal tang of blood. A sudden new memory flashes in his head and he fights to keep it out.

Sam cuts the throat of the demon he’s overpowered, and leans down, putting his mouth over the wound. He drinks her blood, then turns around. Sam looks back at Dean, blood smearing his face. Sam turns back and stabs the demon in the chest, killing her. He stands up and turns around, then puts up his hand. Dean flinches, but Sam is only stopping the demon who is possessing Amelia. He keeps holding up his hand, and the demon flows out of her mouth and onto the floor.

Sam licks his lips. Another flash of memory and he struggles to pull in some air.

He is standing in the panic room, looking around, when the window at the top of the door opens. He looks over at Dean, who is standing outside.

“Okay. Let me out. This is not funny.”

“Damn straight,” Dean replies.

“Dean - come on. This is crazy!” Sam walks closer to the door.

“No. Not until you dry out,” Dean says firmly.

Sam sighs. “Look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. Just... open the door.”

Dean shrugs. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that you lied to me, over and over again. I get it now, you couldn’t help it.”

“I’m not some junkie!” Sam snaps.

“Really? I guess I’ve just imagined how strung out you’ve been lately,” Dean says sarcastically.

Sam snorts. “You’re actually trying to twist this into some ridiculous drug intervention?”

“If it smells like a duck,” Dean calmly replies.

“Dean, I’m not drinking the demon blood for kicks!” Sam says loudly. “I’m getting strong enough to kill Lillith!”

That can’t be right - - that didn’t happen, didn’t happen. Tears well up in his blue-green eyes and he looks up in the rearview mirror, Dean’s face is staring back at him.

-0-

The windows were down in the car and the moist air was blowing lightly against their faces. It was still hot, somewhat muggy, but dark clouds were rolling into view. Rain was in their very near future, and the breeze felt awesomely good. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror to check out his little brother. Sam looks like his breaking, just about to cry. He had hoped he helped his brother come to terms with some of his past, but right now, he really isn’t sure.

He glances at Sammy in the rearview; the kid is just drained. His head is leaning slightly forward, wind ragged bangs flopping wildly in his eyes. Those once innocent hazel eyes now look sad and overwrought as they stare back up at Dean. The kid is obviously exhausted, mentally as well as physically. The dark smudges set visibly beneath his sagging lids, and he’s far too pale. But what unnerves Dean the most, is the quiet, Sam has never been quiet in the car, always chattering away about some unimportant fact. Not his time, the kid has uttered four words since they left the old motel. He just sets numbly in the back seat, looking out at nothing, as tears well against his lids. Dean can tell his little brother is struggling just to hold it all together.

“I think we need to stop,” he whispers across the seat at Bobby.

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea too.” The older hunter looks back over the seat at Sammy, his long arm bracing against the shivering knee. “It’s okay Sammy; it’s all going to be okay.”

-0-

Dean and Bobby are excellent hunters. They’ve been trained by John Winchester, one of the very best around. They know to keep their head in the game; it’s the hunter’s law and they both know it by heart - Don’t hunt when you are too tired, too distraught, or too pissed off – end of story. They know the law, but sometimes, it’s hard to live by. This time, well, it’s one of those times.

All the older hunters can see is Sam’s distraught face; his sad eyes welled up with freshly falling tears. If they hadn’t been exhausted, too tired and worried, they might’ve noticed the rusted old Chevy truck when it pulled out of the motel just behind them. They might’ve seen it following way back down the road. But, they didn’t, they weren’t attuned to what was going on outside the car, too busy taking care of the precious burden inside to car. They didn’t see the demons that were hot on their trail – and they didn’t take notice of the evil entities as they lingered just behind. They certainly didn’t realize what the minions had on their minds - - to get their hands on one, Samuel Winchester, and take them to their lord.

:wave
Okay -review please, pretty please with sugar on top!!??
:clap

ut oh...more trouble coming for Sam :evil hehe I like it :D.

Great update :).

oh no poor boy!no one leaves him alone :(
I can't wait for more ;)

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

A/N: So glad you are still with me. Review please, tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Seventeen

The sky was a dusty grey and blue color, the sun falling down below the overhang of rocks and barren wasteland. Dusk was being devoured by the darkness, a thick black fog rolling in across the sandy dirt. No stars peeking from the shadows, no moon hanging high up in the sky.

The Impala pulled over at the rest stop somewhere just outside of Winslow, Arizona. It had been a long day, the hunter’s inside the vehicle were functioning on too little sleep, not near enough coffee, and an urgent desire driving them relentlessly forward. They needed to get to Devils Gate, and they needed to do it now.

They hadn’t seen or heard from Castiel in over two days, but, Dean knew he’d be around, figured the angel of god was busy rounding up the troops. If he thought about that too much, he’d maybe laugh out loud, so he’d dash those thoughts just as soon as the popped into his mind. Me – Dean Winchester, destined to kill Lucifer, go figure….

Dean pushed the driver’s door open with a loud squeak as Bobby exited the passenger side at the same time. The senior hunter glanced across the hood at Dean, nodded when he knew the older brother would take care of Sam, and had everything under control. He moved slowly toward the roadside restroom.

“Sam,” Dean leaned back down inside the car, emerald eyes looking intently at his brother in the back seat. “You need to stretch your legs,” more a statement than a question.

Sam blinked wide eyed at his older brother, “Huh…”

“Sam, get out of the car.” Dean ordered as he pulled the seat up, hand reaching in and grabbing Sammy by his arm, tugging him from the back.

Sam’s limbs moved stiffly from the cramped space. He was slightly pale, eyes bloodshot and tired, the heat from the drive wearing on his still fragile frame. He wavered on his feet, but momentarily regained his footing, Dean gripping him tightly by the elbow.

“You okay?” Dean asked with curious concern.

Sam nodded slowly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” The younger hunter pulled away from this brother’s grip, sagging back against the side of the car.

The shuffle of boots on the pavement signaled Bobby’s return from the men’s room. He smiled warmly at Sam. “How you doing?”

Sam’s fingers came up to squeeze between his eyes, brows furrowing into a hasty frown. “Would you two stop asking me that, please.” Both hunters noted that the kid sounded a lot like the five year old whiny Sam that they remembered from their past. “I said - I AM FINE.”

Dean grinned and Bobby chewed on his lower lip for a second, “Sorry, kid.” He nodded silently then paced over toward a picnic table and plopped down on the bench.

“I’m going to the bathroom, Sammy, do you need to go?” the older brother asked quietly.

Sam’s head tugged up, a stunned expression pulling to his face. “No, Daddy, I don’t need to pee.” He glared at Dean, then stomped across the field to a large oak tree and leaned silently against it.

Dean started to follow, but Bobby’s words stopped him. “Just leave him be Dean, kids got a lot to absorb right now.”

Dean shrugged up his shoulders, “Didn’t mean to piss in his wheaties.” He glanced one last time at Sam, and then moved toward the men’s room.

Bobby eyeballed the vending machines on the far side of the building. A cool drink would do them all some good. His fingers jingled the loose change in his pants pocket, pushing to stand, he looked around the area. Ain’t nothing going on here. He moved around the building. Stuffing change in the vending machines, he waited patiently as the old mechanism dispensed two cokes and a 7up into his anxiously awaiting hands.

-0-

The bathroom had a very distinct odor, one that made Dean want to gag. He swallowed down the feeling, did his personal business and moved to wash his hands. The water came out in a little dribble, barely enough to wet one finger, let alone all ten. He sighed, ripped off a paper towel and dry wiped his hands. He moved slowly from the damp room back out into the fresh, dry Arizona air.

His eyes darted across as Bobby moved toward him, hand pushing a coke into his own. He smiled and popped off the top, gulping down the cold liquid in a rush. Both hunters walked slowly back toward the car as their eyes glanced over to look at Sam resting by the tree.

Sam?

Dean’s head perused the area and uneasiness resting in his stomach. The coke dropped from his fingers as he turned on his boots, full circle, looking for his long haired gangly brother. His heart began to thud loudly in his chest and he could barely catch his breathe. Where’s Sam?

“Bobby?” the older brother’s voice quivered with undeniable urgency.

Bobby’s eyes darted around the area, “Maybe he’s in the car.” He too dropped the drinks and began to jog, then, full out ran toward the Impala. No Sam. Oh god, where’d he go, he was just here.

“SAMMY?” Dean yelled as he ran to the last spot he had seen his little brother. Glancing down, he stooped to pick up the braided brown bracelet that his Sammy always wore. He had given the bracelet to Sam for his sixteenth birthday. He struggled momentarily to catch his breath as his fingers brushed against the knotty rope. He stood up, on suddenly weak legs, and then, he yelled again. “SAMMY?”

His ears were greeted with nothing, but the blowing of the wind.

-0-

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Sam awoke to water dripping, a steady stream against his face. He blinked open his heavy eyelids and stared out into the darkness? Where am I? A dim light danced in through a window way up above his head, he could barely make it out. He shielded his eyes as another dribble of water plummeted down against his brow. He tilted his face slightly to the side, to get away from the continual trickle of water. Man, my head hurts.

He opened and closed his eyes, tugging his hand up to rub across his aching brow. His fingers found the tender spot nuzzled on the side of his head. Owe. He pulled his hand away, feeling the sticky coating of blood against his fingertips, from the cut that was just behind his ear. His mind raced to recall how he got here, where here was – Dean? Where’s Dean? Bobby?

He remembered riding in the car, he remembered it was hot, and he was tired. He remembered his brother and ‘uncle’ were suffocating him, taking care of him, comforting him from memories that he didn’t want to have. He pushed to set up, the aching in his head increasing angrily with the motion. He immediately slumped back down against the floor. Breathe, just breath through it. His Dad’s voice echoed in his head. If he lay perfectly still, the pain was manageable - a slow pounding in his skull. He closed his eyes, drifting in the pain and taking comfort in oblivion, as it came to take him back.
:hi5 :wave :hi5 :wave

I’m Sorry

By supernaturaldh

Tag to Lucifer Rising – Spoiler Alert

Beta: You are in a beta free zone, so be nice.

A/N: Review please, tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

Chapter Eighteen

Dean and Bobby paced hastily around the rest stop, checking every nook and cranny, every possible place that Sam could’ve gone. In the end, they both knew, it was a futile search, Sammy was just gone.

Bobby was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. I shouldn’t have left the kid alone. He yanked his worn out baseball cap from his balding head and flung it heatedly to the ground. “Son of a bitch.” He muttered.

Dean rested both of his shaky hands on the hood of the Impala. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. All he could hear was the loud thudding of his heartbeat in his ears. Not again…please… I was supposed to be watching out for him, oh god, where is he, who took him? He eyes darted across the hood to Bobby and he stared blankly at the man.

“Okay,” Dean finally heaved out on a shuddering breath of air. “Okay…just let me think for a minute,” he whispered.

Bobby looked sadly at the older brother. Get it together old man, be here for Dean. He nodded silently in agreement and reached down to grab up his hat. He tugged it back against his head and looked forlornly back at Dean, “I’m sorry,” the older man’s voice quivered with the words.

Dean’s fingers toyed with the woven bracelet against the hood of the car as he glanced across at Bobby. “Not your fault,” he said with firm conviction, “I should’ve been watching him better.” He stuffed Sam’s knotty bracelet inside his blue jean pocket, and tugged his hand up through his hair.

Bobby just shook his head. No amount of admitting I’m at fault is going to take this burden off of Dean – it’s just the kid’s way. Sam is gone, and Dean takes all the blame, it’s just the rules according to the Dean Winchester handbook for big brothers. “No sense dwelling on who made a mistake Dean, let’s just find your brother.” Bobby sighed unhappily and moved to open the passenger door. “They couldn’t have gotten far.”

Dean nodded in agreement as he slid inside the car both doors slamming harshly shut. Sudden revelation dawned on him and he hastily groped his hand into his jean pocket and pulled his cell phone out.

Bobby’s eyes widened as he watched Dean make the call. Dare I hope it could be that easy?

Dean punched in Sam’s number, the phone rang three times, and then diverted to voice mail, “You’ve reached Sam - you know what to do.”

Dean’s face fell, anguish obvious on his features. “Sam, if you don’t pick up…” his voice broke for a second, “please, Sammy, just… call me.” He slapped the phone shut as he attempted to regain his composure.

Bobby chewed on his lower lip as he watched the young man fight to stay in control.

Suddenly, a voice spoke quietly from the back seat, “He’s still alive Dean.”

“Castiel?” Dean turned around abruptly in the front seat, phone fumbling in his fingers, as he looked across the bench seat at the angel’s weary face.

“Demons took him.”

“What?” Dean’s eyes grew huge as he glanced across at Bobby, then back upon Castiel. “How’d they get by us?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, “They’re demons, Dean, that’s what they do. I told you Lucifer feels threatened by your brother,” the angel stated matter-of-fact.

Bobby looked angrily at Castiel, “Where is he?” he demanded to know.

“Devils Gate, they have him at Devils Gate.” Castiel slumped dejectedly back against the back seat of the car and sighed. And I hope we’re not too late.

“What? Sweet Jesus…” Bobby huffed.

“Can’t you just beam us there or something?” The older brother asked anxiously as he recalled the other times Castiel had done just that. “That’s what you do, just put get me in there,” his blue-green eyes pleading with the angel.

“No, Dean, I’m sorry, as much as I’d like to, I can’t just beam you into the devils lair.”

Dean’s palms banged heatedly down against the steering wheel, eyes brimming over with unshed, heated tears. “What good are you then…damnit?”

“That’s bull,” Bobby’s eyes narrowed into pissed off glare. “You did it before.”

The angel just stared at both of the angry hunters. “Yes, but Lucifer wasn’t there, I can’t…I wish…but, I…I just can’t do it. Satan is too strong.”

“But you…you…” Dean was furious, his voice rising as anger rushed quickly through his veins. His left eye begin to twitch. The sudden urge to take care of Sam was unrelenting and gripping him tightly in his gut. His fingers tensed tightly around the steering wheel as his fingers lost their color. “You know what, you know what…you angels, all the damn demons, you all suck…you’re all asshats the whole lot of you, tricking me, tricking Sam.” He wanted to punch something, beat the crap out of it, angry words spewing across his lips. “You all, every last one of you - you suck, you hear me…I’m tired of this crap, this game we keep having to play. No one and I mean no one, better hurt my little brother.”

The angel’s eyes grew wide. Bobby wasn’t sure if it was concern or fear that made him look so stunned. He grinned inwardly at Dean’s remarks. You go son, tell him how it is.

“I’m sorry,” the angel exhaled noiselessly as he stared down at his hands. “You know, if I could, I would,” he whispered almost shakily.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Just - go Dean.” He sucked in a heated breath and fought against the urge to knock the crap out of Castiel. Sam was gone, Dean was upset, and he was pissed.

Dean swallowed hard, shored up his shoulders, and pulled his emotions back into check. The desire to get to his little brother pushed him forward. He floored the gas paddle as he glared one last time in the rearview at Castiel. Damn worthless angels. Gravel and dust wavered up behind the car as the Impala fishtailed then careened back to the road.

-0-

Something was ringing way off the distance, Sam could hear it, but couldn’t quite grasp it. What is that? Suddenly it stopped. He felt annoyingly disconnected, dizzy, and out of sorts, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. He already knew he didn’t want to. The pain in his head was unrelenting, an intense throbbing that radiated around from the back of his skull and throbbed right behind his eyes. A constant dull slap that did not want to quit. He struggled to fight the darkness; his lashes fluttering lightly against his cheeks before he finally managed to tug open his sluggish eyelids. The shadows didn’t go away though, just grew a little less black. He blinked and gazed at the light shifting of brightness somewhere far above his head. Where am I? He blinked again and attempted to orient himself. How’d I get here? He slowly moved one arm, pressing his shaky hand down against the damp hardness of the floor. His arms wobbled, his headache spiking with the movement. He bit his lip, but forced himself to rise, to set up and take in his surroundings. He was in a narrow, rocky opening, perched some fifty feet below the light above. He could vaguely hear water running somewhere in the distance and the sound alone made him really want a drink. He licked his lips. It was damp and cold and it chilled him deep inside his bones. He shuddered.

“DEAN?” he yelled, his voice echoing on the rocks and ground around him. The pain in his head spiked with his words, but he knew he needed to find his brother, and he needed to find him now. “DEAN?” he screamed again. He tugged his wobbly hand up to press against the rock wall, his eyes growing more accustomed in the dimness of the light. He strained his eyes to see.

Suddenly, the small hairs on the back of Sam’s neck stood up. Someone else was here. He could feel them, just behind the shadows, just outside his sight. His heart slammed harshly against his ribcage and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He didn’t know why, but he was afraid, very afraid and he didn’t want to see.

There was movement in the shadows - - a voice hissing through the veil.

“Welcome home, Samuel.”
:fire :fire :fire

:o
please don't leave us like that
I'm so scared for sammy :cry