Going Under - (1/1), MA15+, SPN, AU
Title: Going Under
Warnings: AU, Schizophrenic!Dean
Rating: MA15+ for naughty words.
Disclaimer: None of the following belongs to me, I am just playing in Kripke and WB/CW's sandbox for fun not profit.
Summary: One phone call from his Dad pulls Sam back into the nightmare that is his family and forces him to recollect on his life with his brother.
Author Note: This was written for nong_pradu’s Dean's a paranoid schizophrenic. Bonus points if we see him in a straight-jacket and doped to the gills. Sam's at Stanford and is embarrassed to have a brother who's literally crazy. (There could be some funny antics where Dean shows up and creates a scene in front of some of Sam's friends -- maybe Dean has escaped the nuthouse to go visit his baby brother at college?) Can be schmoopy or angsty, so long as Dean's cuckoo for cocoa puffs and vulnerable at some point in the story. No wincest, please! at the Hoodie_Time Dean Focused H/C Meme Round 2. This thing just totally ate my brain and took over until it was all out. I haven’t really edited this much and it definitely hasn’t seen a beta so sorry for any screwy stuff I will come back and edit it when I have caught up on sleep and eating which this fic wouldn’t let me do! Enjoy!
“Sam, is that you son?” Dad’s gruff and strained voice echoed on the crackling line.
“Dad? Is that you? I can hardly hear you?” Sam felt his heart drop as he realised the only reason Dad would be calling him here, at Stanford, the place he ran to in utter defiance to the man’s direct order, would be if it had happened again.
“Shit Dad, where is he?” Sam’s throat tightened as he swallowed back the prickle of angry tears threatening the back of his eyes.
“Ahh…Sam…it’s bad son, really bad.”
Sam’s jaw clenched tight as he heard the tears in his tough as nails father’s voice.
“Just tell me where and I’ll get there.” He flinched at the harsh bark of his tone and licked at his suddenly dry lips.
With a weary sigh he wrote down the name of the hospital on a random slip of paper and quickly slipped it into his back pocket.
“I should be there in few hours Dad…just tell him…just tell him I’m coming and to hang on.”
His Dad’s voice was hardly even a whisper as Sam heard the silent sobs tightly reined in behind his father’s words.
“Just get here son, he needs you. I can’t…I’m not the one he needs right now.”
“Yeah Dad, I know, I’ll see you soon.”
Sam clenched his burning eyes tightly and pressed the closed cell into his forehead to the point of pain, before he heaved the phone into wall with a roar as years of pent up grief and anger poured out of him in one throat tearing burst.
As he sank down the wall to huddle into his drawn up knees, tears running unchecked down his face, Sam thought back to first time his life became all about Dean’s illness.
~~o0o~~
“Bobby, tell us another one.” Dean’s temperamental adolescent vocal chords betrayed him, sending the last part of the sentence an octave higher.
The vibrant blush that spread up Dean’s neck had Sam snickering into his hand.
“Shutup pipsqueak!”
Dean voice betrayed him again, sending Sam into galls of laughter. The next thing Sam knew he was flat on his back with the air being squeezed out of him by his hormonal brother.
“Get off me! Uncle Bobbbyyyyy.” Sam squealed as his brother grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the filthy lounge room rug.
“That’s enough ya idjits. You’re both a pair of girls. Now sit down and shut up and I’ll tell you all about huntin’ a Wendigo.” Bobby’s surly, slightly bleary, gaze pinned them both until they stopped poking at each other and gave him their full attention.
“That’s better, right, now where was I?”
Dean’s eagerness for another of Bobby’s monster tales was evident in his inability to sit still. He was squirmed and wriggled on the spot like he had ants in his pants.
“Wendigoes Uncle Bobby, you said you were gonna tell us how to hunt a Wendigo.”
Dean voice squeaked as it cracked once more but Sam ignored in it lieu of not getting himself mashed into the gritty rug again.
“Right! Well, what you need to know when you’re huntin’ a Wendigo is that their one mean SOB and can have you gutted and drippin’ ya innards all over a forest floor in less than a blink of an eye.”
Sam gulped and quickly glanced at his brother, who had leaned in towards Bobby, his eyes shining with delight. Hoping not to be noticed he slowly wriggled his way across the carpet ‘til their knees bumped and he could feel the comforting safety of his big brother. Dean smirked at him and ruffled his hair before tuning back into Bobby’s monster story. Seemly enthralled by the fantastically tale of a man eating monster that lived in caves and hunted in cycles decades apart.
That was probably that last time that he felt like the little brother for a very long time.
Sam knows now that it was those fanciful stories of man eating monsters, Demon’s possessing innocents and brave hunters that killed off the evil SOBs that gave flesh to Dean’s eventual delusions and hallucinations.
Sam would never forget the night, less than a week later, that he and Dad came back from a 2 day haul picking up parts for a broken down Junker in the back of Bobby’s lot to find Dean dragging Bobby’s unconscious and blood covered body down the front steps as they drove in.
Dad’s horrified screams still echoed in his nightmares and Dean’s wide eyed and confused gaze as he breathlessly explained to them how he had to take him down cause Bobby was possessed by a Demon, continued to haunt him after he woke from them with a panted gasps.
The harsh sound of Dad’s hand slapping Dean across the face still comes back to him when ever he thinks on that night, but it’s Dean’s wounded and baffled expression as he stared up into his sobbing father’s eyes and pleaded with him that he had to believe him. That he had to do it to stop the Demon from killing them all ‘cause the Demon just wouldn’t leave him even after he tried to exorcise it.
It’s that look of utter betrayal as their Dad turned his back on his blood covered son to sob into his hands that stayed with Sam in vivid technicolour right up until this day.
The next few months were a blur of Doctors and drug schedules and relapses where Dean would rant and rave about how they had to get out there and hunt down the evil sons of bitches, especially the one that killed their Mom. It was usually at that point that the gear would be packed up as if their Dad had every intent to head off into the great wide world to hunt down the Monster that burned Mom on the ceiling only to end up sitting helplessly for hours in a waiting room as they reassessed Dean and asked endless stupid questions that never ended up giving anyone any true answers on how to stop the whole damn Roll-coaster ride from happening again and again and again.
After years of every different therapy under the sun and trialling every different drug both on and off the market, Dean finally seemed to settle and was finally able to have a semblance of a normal life.
He had a job at the small garage where his Dad worked and had even started to show and interest in meeting other people; he seemed mostly ok. That was the year Sam came into his last year of high school. Sam was actually able to contemplate a life away from Dean and his delusions about some homicidal Yellow Eyed Demon who had been responsible for their Mother’s death when Sam was 6 months old and wanted Sam as the champion of his Demon Army. Sam and his dysfunctional family seemed to get into their own groove and for a while Sam felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel and not another train coming barrelling down the tracks.
Dean had had a good 18 months of stable health prior to the spring break of his first year at Stanford. It was then that he was reminded that you should never let your guard down when it came to dealing with his brother’s illness. Dean had still been moody as hell and prone to bouts of depression which would swing into angry outbursts, but for the most part he was pretty good. He had even seemed to cope quite well with Sam’s departure from the family home; even though it hadn’t been the rosiest of departures. He and his Dad knew enough about Dean’s illness not to have their heated arguments anywhere within Dean’s earshot for fear of pushing him into a relapse. As far as Dean was concerned Dad was just a bit unhappy about Sam going because it was so far away and he would miss having him around.
The truth was their Dad was shit scared of looking out for Dean on his own. He knew damn well if Dean went off the deep end again, it wasn’t him he would be turning to and pulling into his delusions. Dad was more likely to be seen as a Demon or a shapeshifter in the guise of their Dad and be turned on with kitchen knifes or garroted in his sleep with the blind cords. Sam knew the warning signs and could usually get Dean to agree to see his therapist before he completely lost his tenuous grip on reality. Their Dad was just too drunk half the time to notice Dean’s urgent mumblings about laying the salt lines and the nervous and eventual hostile glances at any stranger he came across. The other half of the time their Dad was just too caught up in his own grief of his lost wife and then the loss of his first born son to an illness that most of the world didn’t understand and didn’t want to know about to actually see that his son was still there and still needed him, probably more than he ever had before.
Sam was walking across the campus to his small dorm room not far off site of the campus when a familiar shout had his blood chilling instantly in his veins. He snapped his head around to see his brother jogging across the open area hailing him with a raised arm.
“Hey, Sammy, wait up man.” Dean’s grin lit up his face.
The startling pang of grief that griped his heart at the use of that particular nickname had him clenching his jaw and biting at his tongue to stave off the tears that threatened to unman him in the middle of his university campus.
Sam knew well from years of painful experience that Dean only called him Sammy when he was deep in his own fabricated reality. Where he was the jovial big brother who did his utmost to protect his little brother from the evil shit they hunted. He took in a deep breath to centre himself and prepare for the navigation of the minefield that was Dean’s delusions.
“Hey Dean, what brings you out to sunny California?” Sam’s smile felt stiff and unyielding on his face.
The gentle squeeze of affection as Dean clapped his hand on his shoulder, sent a spike of pain lancing through his heart at the loss of his real brother.
“Just here to check on my little brother. Makin’ sure he’s safe and sound in the sunny state. Don’t want you getting rusty and old Yellow Eyes getting the jump on you man.” Dean flitted his gaze across the mostly empty campus, a scowl marred his features as he zeroed in on a mousy little brunette who was scurrying between buildings obviously in a hurry to get off campus and start the spring break.
Dean’s gaze snapped back to Sam’s face, pinning him with narrowed and shadow ringed eyes, “Do you know her man? She looks a little suss.”
Sam grinned as brightly as he could, “No man, it’s cool, she’s just in a hurry to get home for break. That’s all, she’s cool.”
Dean’s raptor gaze pinned him once more, looking for any hint of deception or mockery. Sam held his smile and pulled him in with one arm, “come on man you can help me pack now you’re here. I was gonna head out tomorrow to catch up with you and Dad.”
Sam stilled and a shiver run down his spine as he felt Dean’s shoulder stiffen under his draped arm.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Sam swallowed heavily as sweat beaded on his upper lip; knowing full well that somehow he was suddenly tip toeing through a thick patch of mines.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this Sam,…”
Sam’s heart lurched into his throat as Dean turned sad and guilt ridden eyes on him.
“Dad’s in pretty bad shape. Yellow Eyes jumped him and rode him hard before I could exorcise that son of a bitch out of him.”
The air left him as sure as if Dean had gut punched him. Shit, shit, fuck! This was bad, monumentally bad. He had to tread carefully here or Dean would get suspicious and clam up or worse run off on him and he’d never get him to help and god knows what he would do on his own out there.
“Fuck Dean, is he…God…is he gonna be ok?”
“Yeah man, he’s ok. He’s gonna be laid up for awhile, but don’t worry, Uncle Bobby’s watching out for him.” Dean patted him on the shoulder before reaching into pocket of his worn leather jacket.
“Look Bobby gave me an anti-possession charm. He said he’s been researching it for years and according to all his sources this is a sure fire way to stop those low life bastards from possessin’ your ass. Here, he gave me one for you too.”
Sam grinned at their uncle Bobby’s quick thinking when he saw the dime store jelly bracelet with a small cross dangling from the circlet as Dean handed it to him.
“Good old Uncle Bobby, he always comes through when we need him, hey Dean?”
A small amount of tension eased out of Sam’s knotted shoulders as Dean chuckled and waited patiently for him to slide the jelly bracelet on his wrist.
“Yeah, no one knows about this stuff better than Uncle Bobby. He’s got out asses out of a lot a shit over the years. We probably would have been dead years ago if it wasn’t for him.”
Sam smiled vaguely at him while frantically thinking about how he was going to be able to distract Dean long enough to get a quick call in to Bobby to check on his Dad and let them know that Dean had made it to him and that he’s was taking care of it. His thoughts were abruptly pushed aside as he felt Dean bristle beside him in response to the shout of one of his classmates.
“Yo, Sam Man, you coming to this break party tonight or what?”
Sam snatched out a restraining hand to Dean’s arm and moved subtly so that his body was firmly placed between Dean and his fast approaching classmate.
“Hey, Brady, um…I’m probably gonna have to give it a miss man, a family emergency has come up and I have some stuff to take care of before I head out tomorrow. Rain check for next semester?” Sam arranged his face into a suitably sombre expression as his heart beat played a tattoo in his constricting chest.
“Shit, really, man, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everything will be ok?” Brady’s gaze strayed to Dean, his eyebrow raised in silent question.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure it will be all fine, just a bit of family drama for the holidays. Oh, um yeah, Scott, this is my brother Dean.” Sam moved slightly to indicate his greeting and regretted it instantly as Dean’s hand flashed out of his pocket and a silver flask sprayed droplets of water all over Brady’s face.
“What the fuck?”
“Dean, what the hell man.”
Sam leaned in and started to wipe at the water now dripping from his classmates’ drenched face, muttering his apologies for his brother’s behaviour.
Dean, obviously satisfied that the fellow freshman wasn’t a Demon, extended his hand to shake Brady’s.
Brady pushed at Sam’s fluttering hands and glared at Dean in slight disgust, “Whatever man, you’re fucking nuts.”
He quickly lunged in front of his brother before he could start swinging at his departing friend. Sam braced his hands on Dean’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye to draw his full attention.
“Come on man, he isn’t worth it. His not a Demon, he’s just a dick.”
Dean raised his middle finger to Brady’s retreating back before he shrugged off Sam’s restraining hands.
“Come on Sam, let’s get your stuff and get the hell out of here. I’ve got the impala while Dad’s laid up, we can be at Bobby’s by tomorrow afternoon if we push it, what do you say?” Dean’s easy grin had the shafts of grief rippling through his chest again as he nodded vaguely, hoping vainly that he could keep Dean’s and his shit together long enough to get to Bobby’s place, without someone else getting hurt in the process.
~~o0o~~
It turned out Sam was able to keep his shit together and managed to get them across nearly five states without anyone else being injured. Insulted and slightly pissed, but relatively safe from his brother’s delusions all the same.
Sam had managed to give Bobby the heads up on the way over when Dean was in a rest stop bathroom. He had almost being caught out when Dean quietly slid up to the car while Sam was still on the phone, getting an update on his Dad. Thankfully Sam had years of practise and managed to convince Dean that he was talking to a girlfriend from Stanford. The next three hours of Dean paying out on him for not being able to leave his plaything behind for less than a day without pining was almost worth it for the glee and honest to goodness happiness shining out of Dean’s face. Sam would just kill to see that same happiness when Dean was sane.
The nerve wreaking 26 hour drive was made all the more harder when Sam had to watch his brother be wrestled to the ground, kicking and screaming while pleading with Sam to save him from the evil sons of a bitches.
Sam would never forget the tears of betrayal and pure devastation that coursed down Dean’s face as he stared unwaveringly at him while being bundled up in a straight jacket and manhandled and strapped down in the back of the waiting ambulance.
It was days before Dean was lucid enough to even recognise who Sam was, let alone start spitting out the venomous accusations and hateful plans for exacting his revenge on his treacherous little demon whoring brother.
It was another 3 weeks before Dean was weaned enough off the heavy duty drugs to start on his endless apologies to his faithful little brother who was always there for his crazy schizo brother.
It was almost a month before Dad was well enough to come out to see Dean on his own at the hospital. Dean had craved symbols across every inch of his chest and broken 6 of his ribs as well as his sternum. To say Dad was scared of him was an understatement, but slowly but surely the different combination of drugs and the therapy sessions started to work again and Dad gained his tenuous confidence once more.
Sam didn’t make it back for his next semester but the university was understanding of the difficult circumstances and grated him a leave of absence and a return to his full scholarship when he’s family was well enough for him to return.
He did return and stayed in close contact with his family until his father finally pushed him too far in one of his drunken binges of self loathing and grief. It had been almost 2 years since he had spoken a word to his father so the sudden phone call from his broken father telling him it was really bad, could only mean one thing.
Dean had finally gone too far and hurt someone outside the family.
Someone who wouldn’t just heal up and solider on in the endless battle with Dean’s illness.
This was bad, really bad.
~~o0o~~
Sam scraped his palm down his wet, swollen face and pushed himself up the wall to standing, while swiping at the tears that continued to streak down his face.
It was at just that moment that Jess pushed her way through the door, her shoulders sagging with her weariness from a full day of study and an evening of work at the local coffee shop.
Sam buried his face in his hands in a feeble attempt to disguise his distress just as Jess looked up at him from dropping off her bags.
“Sam! Oh my God, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” The panic was clearly evident in Jess’s voice as she clasped his face in her small and soft palms.
Sam’s face crumpled and sobs began to pour from him as Jess’s panic stricken eyes searched his face for answers.
“Sam, please? Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Jesse pleaded as she pulled his shaking body into her warm, soft embrace.
“I’m sorry…I should have…I should have told you about him before.” Sam’s voice was muffled as he clung desperately to Jess’s suddenly stiffened frame.
“What? What the hell are you talking about Sam?” Jess’s eyes flashed fire at him as she pushed him far enough away from herself to pin him with her stare.
Sam bowed his head to his chest and puffed out a heavy sigh through his crying swollen lips. He wiped at his dripping nose carelessly with his already damp sleeve as he looked back at his now, clearly angry, girlfriend.
“My brother…I haven’t told you about my brother.” Sam voice cracked and faded to almost nothing on the last painful word.
“Dean, your brother Dean? You haven’t given me a detailed life history, but you’ve mentioned him before. Why, what’s happened? Is he ok?” Jess’s face morphed back into concern as she crowded back into the hollow of his arms.
“No…ah…he…” Sam’s voice betrayed him once more as he tried to tell her about his brother. How do you tell some one that their future brother in law is a paranoid schizophrenic with delusions of a Yellow Eyed Demon and the supernatural, who for all Sam knew may have finally killed someone tonight. “Ah, fuck, Dean he…he’s sick…”
“Oh my God, is he…is he going to die?” Jess’s voice faded to a whisper at the mention of possible death, as she stepped back slightly to look back up into his face.
“What? No, it’s not that kind of sick. He’s…he’s sick in the head. He thinks he’s a Demon hunter and that there is supernatural shit out there trying to kill him, kill me.” Sam’s face creased in pain at the grief threatening to rip his heart in two.
“Oh Sam! I…I…I’m so sorry.” Jess looked at him with eyes glazed with tears, her hand covering her mouth in shock.
“It’s ok, I…I’m used to it. We’ve been dealing with his shit since I was 9. I just…I just thought…hell, I just thought that maybe life would throw us a freakin’ bone and let him be sane for long enough for me to graduate. Guess not.” Sam swiped at the lone tear that trailed its way down his grief ravaged face.
“Sam, it’s ok to be angry. I can’t imagine what this has been like for you and your family.”
Sam looked up into her pale and weary face, “No, no you can’t, but one day, I’ll tell you about it. But not…not tonight. I…I need to go to him…he needs me.”
Jess pulled him back into her arms, “Of course Sam. I’m sure your Dad needs you too.”
Sam stiffened briefly at the mention of his father, but nodded slightly and relaxed into the soothing warmth of Jess’s warm palm rubbing circles into his tense shoulders, taking all the comfort he could get before he had to once more be the strong one in the family.
~~o0o~~
Sam bit down hard on his scabbed and chapped bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened to fall once more at the pitiful sight that met him as he walked into his brother’s isolation room.
Dean was curled as much as he could with the leg restraints and the straight jacket that was anchored to the standard hospital issue bed. Most of his hair was flattened to his scalp with the clammy sweat that was coating his face, but some randomly clumps were pushed up against the press of the mattress.
As Sam walked closer he could hear Dean mumbling whispered and broken words, obviously repeating them over and over again. The monotone murmurings were accompanied by a high pitch rhythmic squeak that Sam realised was the wheels of the bed squealing in protest to Dean’s constant rocking. Sam crouched down to see his brother’s hidden eyes and startled back in shock almost landing on his ass when their glazed green depths met his own.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was breathless as the weight of Dean’s state hit him all at once, while hoping against hope that he was lucid enough to know he was there.
His hand shook as he tentatively reached out to lay his palm on Dean’s clammy cheek.
Dean’s face remained blank to the hesitant touch and his eyes continued to bore straight into Sam’s soul without any recognition. Cocking his ear to listen to the breathless and broken words Dean was chanting over and over, his heart broke as he finally understood the muted plea.
“No Sammy, gotta say no.”
Sam’s bowed his head as his face crumpled and tears spilled from his gritty and swollen eyes. He let the pent up sobs climb his throat as his rested his forehead against the thin mattress, while his hands clawed into the stiff cotton that bound Dean to the bed.
“Please, just stop. Dean please, you’ve got to stop this.”
“No Sammy, gotta say no.” Dean chanted oblivious to Sam’s presence.
“STOP IT!! GOD DAMNIT JUST FUCKING STOP IT!” Sam’s scream scraped his throat raw. So much so that the next words were lost in a breathless whisper as his sobs finally over took him and he crawled up onto the bed and wrapped himself around his rocking brother’s trembling form, “please stop.”
Sam ignored the urgent voice calling his name and the touch to his back and pulse point with cold efficient hands as he continued to sob into his brother’s sweaty hair. Eventually the cold hands left them and Sam was finally able to get his breathing back to a steady rhythm.
He looked up into his brother’s slack and clammy face and reached out a unsteady hand to push back the sweaty bangs that marred his forehead.
“I don’t care what it takes man; I will get you back to us. You hear me? I’m not giving up on you.” Sam swallowed the heavy lump in his throat.
“Nothing you can do, you hear me, nothing, will make me give up on you.” Sam stroked his hand through Dean’s hair once more and braced his face with his palm, “I know you’ve been through hell man and I want…I want you to know I will do everything in my power to stop you from ever going back there.” Sam paused as he clenched down on the emotion roiling in his chest. “I need you here Dean. You’re my big brother and I want him back.” Sam’s face crumpled and tears streamed down his face once more as he crushed him to his chest in a fierce hug.
“Come back to us Dean, please.” Sam rocked them slightly as he clenched his eyes as he pleaded with his brother to hear him somehow.
“Sam?” Dean’s breathless voice puffed out against his throat, Sam felt the word more than actually hearing it.
Sam pulled him away from him and turned his lolling head to face his own.
“Dean? Dean? Are you with me?” Sam’s eyes frantically searched his face to see even an ounce of recognition in his brother’s glazed and rolling eyes.
Just as he was about to dismiss it as wishful thinking Dean’s gaze locked onto his and a small smile crinkled the corners of his dazed eyes.
Smiling like the Sun had come out after months of rain, Sam jostled his brother’s face with his brace hand and bit at his bleeding lower lip, “Dean, you really with me?”
Dean’s grin widened as his gaze flickered down to check over his brother, “Yeah man, I’m here. What the hell are you doing in my bed? You know I don’t swing that way.” His voice was crackled and broken from overuse, but good enough for Sam to hear him clearly.
Sam threw his head back as laughter burst free from his constricted chest, “Yeah man, I know, but you wouldn’t listen to me so I had to get your attention some how.”
Glaring at him without heat he nudged at him with his bound shoulder, “You got my attention, now get off me Sasquatch.”
Unfurling himself from around his brother he climbed back off the bed and stood at his bedside, at a loss of what to do with his suddenly heavy limbs.
Dean’s face stiffened and his bleary eyes darted between Sam and the closed door.
Sam folded down to kneel at the side of his bed, “it’s ok, I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam reached his hand out and tried to push the greasy hair off his face again, but Dean ducked his head away and smirked over at him.
“You can stay, but hands off. Don’t want no chick flick moments, you big girl.”
Sam grinned at him and shook his head, “Ok, no chick flick moments.”
Dean settled his body back into the bed as best he could and squinted his eyes over at him, “Good.”
Sam smiled at him as he shifted to rest his hip on the edge of Dean’s bed, “yeah, we will be…I promise.”
Warnings: AU, Schizophrenic!Dean
Rating: MA15+ for naughty words.
Disclaimer: None of the following belongs to me, I am just playing in Kripke and WB/CW's sandbox for fun not profit.
Summary: One phone call from his Dad pulls Sam back into the nightmare that is his family and forces him to recollect on his life with his brother.
Author Note: This was written for nong_pradu’s Dean's a paranoid schizophrenic. Bonus points if we see him in a straight-jacket and doped to the gills. Sam's at Stanford and is embarrassed to have a brother who's literally crazy. (There could be some funny antics where Dean shows up and creates a scene in front of some of Sam's friends -- maybe Dean has escaped the nuthouse to go visit his baby brother at college?) Can be schmoopy or angsty, so long as Dean's cuckoo for cocoa puffs and vulnerable at some point in the story. No wincest, please! at the Hoodie_Time Dean Focused H/C Meme Round 2. This thing just totally ate my brain and took over until it was all out. I haven’t really edited this much and it definitely hasn’t seen a beta so sorry for any screwy stuff I will come back and edit it when I have caught up on sleep and eating which this fic wouldn’t let me do! Enjoy!
“Sam, is that you son?” Dad’s gruff and strained voice echoed on the crackling line.
“Dad? Is that you? I can hardly hear you?” Sam felt his heart drop as he realised the only reason Dad would be calling him here, at Stanford, the place he ran to in utter defiance to the man’s direct order, would be if it had happened again.
“Shit Dad, where is he?” Sam’s throat tightened as he swallowed back the prickle of angry tears threatening the back of his eyes.
“Ahh…Sam…it’s bad son, really bad.”
Sam’s jaw clenched tight as he heard the tears in his tough as nails father’s voice.
“Just tell me where and I’ll get there.” He flinched at the harsh bark of his tone and licked at his suddenly dry lips.
With a weary sigh he wrote down the name of the hospital on a random slip of paper and quickly slipped it into his back pocket.
“I should be there in few hours Dad…just tell him…just tell him I’m coming and to hang on.”
His Dad’s voice was hardly even a whisper as Sam heard the silent sobs tightly reined in behind his father’s words.
“Just get here son, he needs you. I can’t…I’m not the one he needs right now.”
“Yeah Dad, I know, I’ll see you soon.”
Sam clenched his burning eyes tightly and pressed the closed cell into his forehead to the point of pain, before he heaved the phone into wall with a roar as years of pent up grief and anger poured out of him in one throat tearing burst.
As he sank down the wall to huddle into his drawn up knees, tears running unchecked down his face, Sam thought back to first time his life became all about Dean’s illness.
~~o0o~~
“Bobby, tell us another one.” Dean’s temperamental adolescent vocal chords betrayed him, sending the last part of the sentence an octave higher.
The vibrant blush that spread up Dean’s neck had Sam snickering into his hand.
“Shutup pipsqueak!”
Dean voice betrayed him again, sending Sam into galls of laughter. The next thing Sam knew he was flat on his back with the air being squeezed out of him by his hormonal brother.
“Get off me! Uncle Bobbbyyyyy.” Sam squealed as his brother grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the filthy lounge room rug.
“That’s enough ya idjits. You’re both a pair of girls. Now sit down and shut up and I’ll tell you all about huntin’ a Wendigo.” Bobby’s surly, slightly bleary, gaze pinned them both until they stopped poking at each other and gave him their full attention.
“That’s better, right, now where was I?”
Dean’s eagerness for another of Bobby’s monster tales was evident in his inability to sit still. He was squirmed and wriggled on the spot like he had ants in his pants.
“Wendigoes Uncle Bobby, you said you were gonna tell us how to hunt a Wendigo.”
Dean voice squeaked as it cracked once more but Sam ignored in it lieu of not getting himself mashed into the gritty rug again.
“Right! Well, what you need to know when you’re huntin’ a Wendigo is that their one mean SOB and can have you gutted and drippin’ ya innards all over a forest floor in less than a blink of an eye.”
Sam gulped and quickly glanced at his brother, who had leaned in towards Bobby, his eyes shining with delight. Hoping not to be noticed he slowly wriggled his way across the carpet ‘til their knees bumped and he could feel the comforting safety of his big brother. Dean smirked at him and ruffled his hair before tuning back into Bobby’s monster story. Seemly enthralled by the fantastically tale of a man eating monster that lived in caves and hunted in cycles decades apart.
That was probably that last time that he felt like the little brother for a very long time.
Sam knows now that it was those fanciful stories of man eating monsters, Demon’s possessing innocents and brave hunters that killed off the evil SOBs that gave flesh to Dean’s eventual delusions and hallucinations.
Sam would never forget the night, less than a week later, that he and Dad came back from a 2 day haul picking up parts for a broken down Junker in the back of Bobby’s lot to find Dean dragging Bobby’s unconscious and blood covered body down the front steps as they drove in.
Dad’s horrified screams still echoed in his nightmares and Dean’s wide eyed and confused gaze as he breathlessly explained to them how he had to take him down cause Bobby was possessed by a Demon, continued to haunt him after he woke from them with a panted gasps.
The harsh sound of Dad’s hand slapping Dean across the face still comes back to him when ever he thinks on that night, but it’s Dean’s wounded and baffled expression as he stared up into his sobbing father’s eyes and pleaded with him that he had to believe him. That he had to do it to stop the Demon from killing them all ‘cause the Demon just wouldn’t leave him even after he tried to exorcise it.
It’s that look of utter betrayal as their Dad turned his back on his blood covered son to sob into his hands that stayed with Sam in vivid technicolour right up until this day.
The next few months were a blur of Doctors and drug schedules and relapses where Dean would rant and rave about how they had to get out there and hunt down the evil sons of bitches, especially the one that killed their Mom. It was usually at that point that the gear would be packed up as if their Dad had every intent to head off into the great wide world to hunt down the Monster that burned Mom on the ceiling only to end up sitting helplessly for hours in a waiting room as they reassessed Dean and asked endless stupid questions that never ended up giving anyone any true answers on how to stop the whole damn Roll-coaster ride from happening again and again and again.
After years of every different therapy under the sun and trialling every different drug both on and off the market, Dean finally seemed to settle and was finally able to have a semblance of a normal life.
He had a job at the small garage where his Dad worked and had even started to show and interest in meeting other people; he seemed mostly ok. That was the year Sam came into his last year of high school. Sam was actually able to contemplate a life away from Dean and his delusions about some homicidal Yellow Eyed Demon who had been responsible for their Mother’s death when Sam was 6 months old and wanted Sam as the champion of his Demon Army. Sam and his dysfunctional family seemed to get into their own groove and for a while Sam felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel and not another train coming barrelling down the tracks.
Dean had had a good 18 months of stable health prior to the spring break of his first year at Stanford. It was then that he was reminded that you should never let your guard down when it came to dealing with his brother’s illness. Dean had still been moody as hell and prone to bouts of depression which would swing into angry outbursts, but for the most part he was pretty good. He had even seemed to cope quite well with Sam’s departure from the family home; even though it hadn’t been the rosiest of departures. He and his Dad knew enough about Dean’s illness not to have their heated arguments anywhere within Dean’s earshot for fear of pushing him into a relapse. As far as Dean was concerned Dad was just a bit unhappy about Sam going because it was so far away and he would miss having him around.
The truth was their Dad was shit scared of looking out for Dean on his own. He knew damn well if Dean went off the deep end again, it wasn’t him he would be turning to and pulling into his delusions. Dad was more likely to be seen as a Demon or a shapeshifter in the guise of their Dad and be turned on with kitchen knifes or garroted in his sleep with the blind cords. Sam knew the warning signs and could usually get Dean to agree to see his therapist before he completely lost his tenuous grip on reality. Their Dad was just too drunk half the time to notice Dean’s urgent mumblings about laying the salt lines and the nervous and eventual hostile glances at any stranger he came across. The other half of the time their Dad was just too caught up in his own grief of his lost wife and then the loss of his first born son to an illness that most of the world didn’t understand and didn’t want to know about to actually see that his son was still there and still needed him, probably more than he ever had before.
Sam was walking across the campus to his small dorm room not far off site of the campus when a familiar shout had his blood chilling instantly in his veins. He snapped his head around to see his brother jogging across the open area hailing him with a raised arm.
“Hey, Sammy, wait up man.” Dean’s grin lit up his face.
The startling pang of grief that griped his heart at the use of that particular nickname had him clenching his jaw and biting at his tongue to stave off the tears that threatened to unman him in the middle of his university campus.
Sam knew well from years of painful experience that Dean only called him Sammy when he was deep in his own fabricated reality. Where he was the jovial big brother who did his utmost to protect his little brother from the evil shit they hunted. He took in a deep breath to centre himself and prepare for the navigation of the minefield that was Dean’s delusions.
“Hey Dean, what brings you out to sunny California?” Sam’s smile felt stiff and unyielding on his face.
The gentle squeeze of affection as Dean clapped his hand on his shoulder, sent a spike of pain lancing through his heart at the loss of his real brother.
“Just here to check on my little brother. Makin’ sure he’s safe and sound in the sunny state. Don’t want you getting rusty and old Yellow Eyes getting the jump on you man.” Dean flitted his gaze across the mostly empty campus, a scowl marred his features as he zeroed in on a mousy little brunette who was scurrying between buildings obviously in a hurry to get off campus and start the spring break.
Dean’s gaze snapped back to Sam’s face, pinning him with narrowed and shadow ringed eyes, “Do you know her man? She looks a little suss.”
Sam grinned as brightly as he could, “No man, it’s cool, she’s just in a hurry to get home for break. That’s all, she’s cool.”
Dean’s raptor gaze pinned him once more, looking for any hint of deception or mockery. Sam held his smile and pulled him in with one arm, “come on man you can help me pack now you’re here. I was gonna head out tomorrow to catch up with you and Dad.”
Sam stilled and a shiver run down his spine as he felt Dean’s shoulder stiffen under his draped arm.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Sam swallowed heavily as sweat beaded on his upper lip; knowing full well that somehow he was suddenly tip toeing through a thick patch of mines.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this Sam,…”
Sam’s heart lurched into his throat as Dean turned sad and guilt ridden eyes on him.
“Dad’s in pretty bad shape. Yellow Eyes jumped him and rode him hard before I could exorcise that son of a bitch out of him.”
The air left him as sure as if Dean had gut punched him. Shit, shit, fuck! This was bad, monumentally bad. He had to tread carefully here or Dean would get suspicious and clam up or worse run off on him and he’d never get him to help and god knows what he would do on his own out there.
“Fuck Dean, is he…God…is he gonna be ok?”
“Yeah man, he’s ok. He’s gonna be laid up for awhile, but don’t worry, Uncle Bobby’s watching out for him.” Dean patted him on the shoulder before reaching into pocket of his worn leather jacket.
“Look Bobby gave me an anti-possession charm. He said he’s been researching it for years and according to all his sources this is a sure fire way to stop those low life bastards from possessin’ your ass. Here, he gave me one for you too.”
Sam grinned at their uncle Bobby’s quick thinking when he saw the dime store jelly bracelet with a small cross dangling from the circlet as Dean handed it to him.
“Good old Uncle Bobby, he always comes through when we need him, hey Dean?”
A small amount of tension eased out of Sam’s knotted shoulders as Dean chuckled and waited patiently for him to slide the jelly bracelet on his wrist.
“Yeah, no one knows about this stuff better than Uncle Bobby. He’s got out asses out of a lot a shit over the years. We probably would have been dead years ago if it wasn’t for him.”
Sam smiled vaguely at him while frantically thinking about how he was going to be able to distract Dean long enough to get a quick call in to Bobby to check on his Dad and let them know that Dean had made it to him and that he’s was taking care of it. His thoughts were abruptly pushed aside as he felt Dean bristle beside him in response to the shout of one of his classmates.
“Yo, Sam Man, you coming to this break party tonight or what?”
Sam snatched out a restraining hand to Dean’s arm and moved subtly so that his body was firmly placed between Dean and his fast approaching classmate.
“Hey, Brady, um…I’m probably gonna have to give it a miss man, a family emergency has come up and I have some stuff to take care of before I head out tomorrow. Rain check for next semester?” Sam arranged his face into a suitably sombre expression as his heart beat played a tattoo in his constricting chest.
“Shit, really, man, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everything will be ok?” Brady’s gaze strayed to Dean, his eyebrow raised in silent question.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure it will be all fine, just a bit of family drama for the holidays. Oh, um yeah, Scott, this is my brother Dean.” Sam moved slightly to indicate his greeting and regretted it instantly as Dean’s hand flashed out of his pocket and a silver flask sprayed droplets of water all over Brady’s face.
“What the fuck?”
“Dean, what the hell man.”
Sam leaned in and started to wipe at the water now dripping from his classmates’ drenched face, muttering his apologies for his brother’s behaviour.
Dean, obviously satisfied that the fellow freshman wasn’t a Demon, extended his hand to shake Brady’s.
Brady pushed at Sam’s fluttering hands and glared at Dean in slight disgust, “Whatever man, you’re fucking nuts.”
He quickly lunged in front of his brother before he could start swinging at his departing friend. Sam braced his hands on Dean’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye to draw his full attention.
“Come on man, he isn’t worth it. His not a Demon, he’s just a dick.”
Dean raised his middle finger to Brady’s retreating back before he shrugged off Sam’s restraining hands.
“Come on Sam, let’s get your stuff and get the hell out of here. I’ve got the impala while Dad’s laid up, we can be at Bobby’s by tomorrow afternoon if we push it, what do you say?” Dean’s easy grin had the shafts of grief rippling through his chest again as he nodded vaguely, hoping vainly that he could keep Dean’s and his shit together long enough to get to Bobby’s place, without someone else getting hurt in the process.
~~o0o~~
It turned out Sam was able to keep his shit together and managed to get them across nearly five states without anyone else being injured. Insulted and slightly pissed, but relatively safe from his brother’s delusions all the same.
Sam had managed to give Bobby the heads up on the way over when Dean was in a rest stop bathroom. He had almost being caught out when Dean quietly slid up to the car while Sam was still on the phone, getting an update on his Dad. Thankfully Sam had years of practise and managed to convince Dean that he was talking to a girlfriend from Stanford. The next three hours of Dean paying out on him for not being able to leave his plaything behind for less than a day without pining was almost worth it for the glee and honest to goodness happiness shining out of Dean’s face. Sam would just kill to see that same happiness when Dean was sane.
The nerve wreaking 26 hour drive was made all the more harder when Sam had to watch his brother be wrestled to the ground, kicking and screaming while pleading with Sam to save him from the evil sons of a bitches.
Sam would never forget the tears of betrayal and pure devastation that coursed down Dean’s face as he stared unwaveringly at him while being bundled up in a straight jacket and manhandled and strapped down in the back of the waiting ambulance.
It was days before Dean was lucid enough to even recognise who Sam was, let alone start spitting out the venomous accusations and hateful plans for exacting his revenge on his treacherous little demon whoring brother.
It was another 3 weeks before Dean was weaned enough off the heavy duty drugs to start on his endless apologies to his faithful little brother who was always there for his crazy schizo brother.
It was almost a month before Dad was well enough to come out to see Dean on his own at the hospital. Dean had craved symbols across every inch of his chest and broken 6 of his ribs as well as his sternum. To say Dad was scared of him was an understatement, but slowly but surely the different combination of drugs and the therapy sessions started to work again and Dad gained his tenuous confidence once more.
Sam didn’t make it back for his next semester but the university was understanding of the difficult circumstances and grated him a leave of absence and a return to his full scholarship when he’s family was well enough for him to return.
He did return and stayed in close contact with his family until his father finally pushed him too far in one of his drunken binges of self loathing and grief. It had been almost 2 years since he had spoken a word to his father so the sudden phone call from his broken father telling him it was really bad, could only mean one thing.
Dean had finally gone too far and hurt someone outside the family.
Someone who wouldn’t just heal up and solider on in the endless battle with Dean’s illness.
This was bad, really bad.
~~o0o~~
Sam scraped his palm down his wet, swollen face and pushed himself up the wall to standing, while swiping at the tears that continued to streak down his face.
It was at just that moment that Jess pushed her way through the door, her shoulders sagging with her weariness from a full day of study and an evening of work at the local coffee shop.
Sam buried his face in his hands in a feeble attempt to disguise his distress just as Jess looked up at him from dropping off her bags.
“Sam! Oh my God, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” The panic was clearly evident in Jess’s voice as she clasped his face in her small and soft palms.
Sam’s face crumpled and sobs began to pour from him as Jess’s panic stricken eyes searched his face for answers.
“Sam, please? Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Jesse pleaded as she pulled his shaking body into her warm, soft embrace.
“I’m sorry…I should have…I should have told you about him before.” Sam’s voice was muffled as he clung desperately to Jess’s suddenly stiffened frame.
“What? What the hell are you talking about Sam?” Jess’s eyes flashed fire at him as she pushed him far enough away from herself to pin him with her stare.
Sam bowed his head to his chest and puffed out a heavy sigh through his crying swollen lips. He wiped at his dripping nose carelessly with his already damp sleeve as he looked back at his now, clearly angry, girlfriend.
“My brother…I haven’t told you about my brother.” Sam voice cracked and faded to almost nothing on the last painful word.
“Dean, your brother Dean? You haven’t given me a detailed life history, but you’ve mentioned him before. Why, what’s happened? Is he ok?” Jess’s face morphed back into concern as she crowded back into the hollow of his arms.
“No…ah…he…” Sam’s voice betrayed him once more as he tried to tell her about his brother. How do you tell some one that their future brother in law is a paranoid schizophrenic with delusions of a Yellow Eyed Demon and the supernatural, who for all Sam knew may have finally killed someone tonight. “Ah, fuck, Dean he…he’s sick…”
“Oh my God, is he…is he going to die?” Jess’s voice faded to a whisper at the mention of possible death, as she stepped back slightly to look back up into his face.
“What? No, it’s not that kind of sick. He’s…he’s sick in the head. He thinks he’s a Demon hunter and that there is supernatural shit out there trying to kill him, kill me.” Sam’s face creased in pain at the grief threatening to rip his heart in two.
“Oh Sam! I…I…I’m so sorry.” Jess looked at him with eyes glazed with tears, her hand covering her mouth in shock.
“It’s ok, I…I’m used to it. We’ve been dealing with his shit since I was 9. I just…I just thought…hell, I just thought that maybe life would throw us a freakin’ bone and let him be sane for long enough for me to graduate. Guess not.” Sam swiped at the lone tear that trailed its way down his grief ravaged face.
“Sam, it’s ok to be angry. I can’t imagine what this has been like for you and your family.”
Sam looked up into her pale and weary face, “No, no you can’t, but one day, I’ll tell you about it. But not…not tonight. I…I need to go to him…he needs me.”
Jess pulled him back into her arms, “Of course Sam. I’m sure your Dad needs you too.”
Sam stiffened briefly at the mention of his father, but nodded slightly and relaxed into the soothing warmth of Jess’s warm palm rubbing circles into his tense shoulders, taking all the comfort he could get before he had to once more be the strong one in the family.
~~o0o~~
Sam bit down hard on his scabbed and chapped bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened to fall once more at the pitiful sight that met him as he walked into his brother’s isolation room.
Dean was curled as much as he could with the leg restraints and the straight jacket that was anchored to the standard hospital issue bed. Most of his hair was flattened to his scalp with the clammy sweat that was coating his face, but some randomly clumps were pushed up against the press of the mattress.
As Sam walked closer he could hear Dean mumbling whispered and broken words, obviously repeating them over and over again. The monotone murmurings were accompanied by a high pitch rhythmic squeak that Sam realised was the wheels of the bed squealing in protest to Dean’s constant rocking. Sam crouched down to see his brother’s hidden eyes and startled back in shock almost landing on his ass when their glazed green depths met his own.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was breathless as the weight of Dean’s state hit him all at once, while hoping against hope that he was lucid enough to know he was there.
His hand shook as he tentatively reached out to lay his palm on Dean’s clammy cheek.
Dean’s face remained blank to the hesitant touch and his eyes continued to bore straight into Sam’s soul without any recognition. Cocking his ear to listen to the breathless and broken words Dean was chanting over and over, his heart broke as he finally understood the muted plea.
“No Sammy, gotta say no.”
Sam’s bowed his head as his face crumpled and tears spilled from his gritty and swollen eyes. He let the pent up sobs climb his throat as his rested his forehead against the thin mattress, while his hands clawed into the stiff cotton that bound Dean to the bed.
“Please, just stop. Dean please, you’ve got to stop this.”
“No Sammy, gotta say no.” Dean chanted oblivious to Sam’s presence.
“STOP IT!! GOD DAMNIT JUST FUCKING STOP IT!” Sam’s scream scraped his throat raw. So much so that the next words were lost in a breathless whisper as his sobs finally over took him and he crawled up onto the bed and wrapped himself around his rocking brother’s trembling form, “please stop.”
Sam ignored the urgent voice calling his name and the touch to his back and pulse point with cold efficient hands as he continued to sob into his brother’s sweaty hair. Eventually the cold hands left them and Sam was finally able to get his breathing back to a steady rhythm.
He looked up into his brother’s slack and clammy face and reached out a unsteady hand to push back the sweaty bangs that marred his forehead.
“I don’t care what it takes man; I will get you back to us. You hear me? I’m not giving up on you.” Sam swallowed the heavy lump in his throat.
“Nothing you can do, you hear me, nothing, will make me give up on you.” Sam stroked his hand through Dean’s hair once more and braced his face with his palm, “I know you’ve been through hell man and I want…I want you to know I will do everything in my power to stop you from ever going back there.” Sam paused as he clenched down on the emotion roiling in his chest. “I need you here Dean. You’re my big brother and I want him back.” Sam’s face crumpled and tears streamed down his face once more as he crushed him to his chest in a fierce hug.
“Come back to us Dean, please.” Sam rocked them slightly as he clenched his eyes as he pleaded with his brother to hear him somehow.
“Sam?” Dean’s breathless voice puffed out against his throat, Sam felt the word more than actually hearing it.
Sam pulled him away from him and turned his lolling head to face his own.
“Dean? Dean? Are you with me?” Sam’s eyes frantically searched his face to see even an ounce of recognition in his brother’s glazed and rolling eyes.
Just as he was about to dismiss it as wishful thinking Dean’s gaze locked onto his and a small smile crinkled the corners of his dazed eyes.
Smiling like the Sun had come out after months of rain, Sam jostled his brother’s face with his brace hand and bit at his bleeding lower lip, “Dean, you really with me?”
Dean’s grin widened as his gaze flickered down to check over his brother, “Yeah man, I’m here. What the hell are you doing in my bed? You know I don’t swing that way.” His voice was crackled and broken from overuse, but good enough for Sam to hear him clearly.
Sam threw his head back as laughter burst free from his constricted chest, “Yeah man, I know, but you wouldn’t listen to me so I had to get your attention some how.”
Glaring at him without heat he nudged at him with his bound shoulder, “You got my attention, now get off me Sasquatch.”
Unfurling himself from around his brother he climbed back off the bed and stood at his bedside, at a loss of what to do with his suddenly heavy limbs.
Dean’s face stiffened and his bleary eyes darted between Sam and the closed door.
Sam folded down to kneel at the side of his bed, “it’s ok, I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam reached his hand out and tried to push the greasy hair off his face again, but Dean ducked his head away and smirked over at him.
“You can stay, but hands off. Don’t want no chick flick moments, you big girl.”
Sam grinned at him and shook his head, “Ok, no chick flick moments.”
Dean settled his body back into the bed as best he could and squinted his eyes over at him, “Good.”
Sam smiled at him as he shifted to rest his hip on the edge of Dean’s bed, “yeah, we will be…I promise.”