SPN/SV Fic: Sweet Sacrifice (9-10/10)
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six-Eight | Conclusion
Chapter Nine
When the paramedics finally showed up, Sam was clutching his brother's body tightly to him, willing life back into him. Hoping beyond all hope that Dean would live. Sobs were wracking his entire body as the paramedics all but pried Dean's lifeless body out of his hands. When they had loaded him onto a stretcher, they began trying to revive him as they got into the ambulance.
Sam vaguely remembered one of the paramedics asking if he wanted to go with them, and he must've nodded, because the next minute, he was in the back of the ambulance, staring numbly at his brother as they tried to bring him back.
When they got to the hospital, Sam just stood in a daze as they rushed Dean away. Walking to the nurses station, he asked quietly where Chloe's room was, then made his way down there, not knowing how he was going to explain anything to her.
Clark held Chloe in his arms as she cried, his own heart breaking at the sight. He'd never seen anyone in so much pain before. Not even his mom when his father had died. He swallowed hard, tears stinging his own eyes. He heard the footsteps approaching the room and turned to see Sam standing in the doorway.
Walking into the room, Sam knelt beside Chloe, suddenly aware that he was covered in his brother's blood. He didn't care though, at least something of him was left.
Sensing his presence, Chloe turned her head toward him, pulling away from Clark and reaching for him instead. "Sam..." Her voice broke.
He held her and began rocking the both of them, tears spilling freely down his face, "I'm so sorry...so sorry."
She pressed her face against his shoulder, weeping softly.
"He seemed fine...and then he wasn't..."
She shuddered in his arms, barely hearing his words as she clung to him.
He and Michael were all she had left.
They were all that was left of Dean.
Epilogue
Chloe lay in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the television but not really seeing it. One hand was pressed lightly against her wounded stomach. It had taken 27 stitches to sew up the gash and the doctor had wanted to know who had done that to her.
She'd stared at him for a moment before saying she didn't know. Not like he would've believed her if she'd told him the truth. Beside her, Sam sat in the chair, his own face pale and forlorn. Closing her eyes she didn't even hear the doctor come in a few moments later and say her name.
"Ms. Sullivan." The doctor called again, a little louder when she didn't turn.
Slowly opening her eyes, she looked at him in silence for a moment. "Yeah?" Her voice was dull.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, voice gently as he walked up beside her bed.
Chloe wondered what she was supposed to say. That she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest? No. That wasn't what he meant, she realized after a few moments. "All right," she murmured, looking away.
Nodding, he lifted up her gown to check her stitches, "Good." He looked up at her after completing his exam, "It's good to see mother and baby healthy."
She shut her eyes, feeling her chest grow tight. "Thanks to his daddy," she whispered.
Looking down at the chart, the doctor smiled slightly, "You know, if that wound would've gone any deeper, it would've hurt the baby. You're very lucky."
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry?" She looked at him, shaking her head a little.
He put the chart back and frowned at her confused look, "You...didn't know you were pregnant?"
Chloe stared at him, her heart clenching. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. She turned her head to look at Sam with wide eyes.
Sam looked back, his expression almost mirroring hers.
The doctor looked between the two, "Congratulations again Dad."
Looking up at the doctor, Sam shook his head, "I'm...no. I'm not the father."
"Oh...well, send my congrats on to him when he comes."
Tears prickled at her eyelids and she held her breath, unable to respond. She swallowed hard to stifle a sob.
Furrowing his eyebrows, the doctor stepped towards the door, "I'm going leave you two alone, I'll be back to check on you later."
Pressing her face against the pillow, she trembled as the tears spilled down her cheeks and blotted the pillowcase beneath her.
Standing up, Sam slid onto the bed and positioned himself behind her and held her close, his own tears beginning to fall again.
A soft sob escaped her as she felt his arms surround her. Closing her eyes tightly she covered his arm with her own. "This isn't fair," she whispered brokenly.
"I know." He whispered back, trying to keep his own grief at bay, "He should be here."
"What are we gonna do without him?"
"I don't know."
"I don't think I can do this, Sam," she whispered, almost inaudibly.
"You have to. And I'll be here too. We have to stay for Michael, and this baby."
She pressed a hand to her face, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He was right. Life was going to carry on, even if they didn't want it to. And she owed it to her kids to keep going.
She owed it to Dean.
* * *
The funeral had been a small one. Consisting of Chloe, Sam, Michael, and a few hunters and friends that they'd come to trust over the years. Sam knew that's how Dean would've wanted it. Actually, he probably would've wanted a party with a lot of booze and some frisky women.
After everyone had offered their condolences to the grieving family and left, all that remained at Dean's graveside were him, Chloe, and Michael, who was fast asleep, unaware that he'd never hear his father's voice, or be held by him ever again.
She stared at the flower-covered casket with blurry eyes, her hair billowing gently in the cool spring breeze. "It should have been me, " she whispered.
Putting his arm around her, Sam shook his head, "Don't say that."
She leaned against him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I always knew the risks, you know? I just never..." She couldn't finish.
"Neither did I." He whispered, staring at the casket as well.
Chloe swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly. "This baby's never gonna meet his father," she whispered.
He nodded, sadness overwhelming him once again at the thought.
She looked down at where Michael lay asleep in his stroller, blissfully unaware of what was happening. She slowly pulled away from Sam, moving closer to the casket and laying the red rose on top of it, her hand resting against the smooth wood. "I love you," she whispered.
A warm, soft wind swirled around her, seeming to whisper to her as she said those words.
A faint smile touched her lips as she felt the warm sunshine touch her cheek, like a gentle caress from heaven. "Goodbye."
Sam came forward and kneeled beside the casket and put a hand on it, "I'm gonna miss you." Tears began to flow down his face again, and he looked up, "Give 'em hell up there."
Chloe swallowed hard, moving back over to the stroller and pressing a soft kiss to her son's forehead, a tear dripping down her cheek.
After another minute of kneeling, Sam slowly stood and walked over to Chloe, "We should go."
"I know," she whispered, not looking up at him.
Getting behind the stroller, he took the brakes off and began to push it, Chloe walking beside him. As they walked over to the Impala, Sam had to wipe more stray tears away. It still smelled like his brother every time he got in, and he hoped that would never change. Throwing one last glance back at his grave, he made a silent promise that he'd always watch over Chloe and her children.
Come what may.
~Fini~