I'm Sorry, Sam is overwrought with grief...

[supernaturaldh]

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




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.

[supernaturaldh]

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.”

[supernaturaldh]

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…

[emielou]

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

[supernaturaldh]

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



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.”

[cindy123]

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.

[Raven524]

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

[supernaturaldh]

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.

[cindy123]

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.

[ilaria]

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???

[supernaturaldh]

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


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.

[supernaturaldh]

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.”

[maria111]

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

boohooo Castiel appereance was scared

[supernaturaldh]

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…

[supernaturaldh]

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.”