The Beckoning

Chapter Ten: Like a Sunrise

Author's Note: You can't hear me now, but I'm screaming. I've already cried and laughed, but now I'm reduced to tiny screams of excitement—for finally, I have finished this story. AND FINALLY I CAN UPLOAD IT! I've tried for two days, and yes...sorry for the delay. Over the next few days, every reviewer should expect a response from me, I'll tell you that. Right now, however, I'd like to firstly thank everyone in general who is reading/reviewing this story. You don't know how happy you've made me, really, all of you are terribly encouraging and wonderful. I seriously couldn't have pulled this story off without you guys to motivate me. Thank you so much.

I really struggled with this part, as some of you might understand. I really wanted to pull everything together and tie it in a pretty bow and send it off to you wrapped up perfectly…and so I did my best, re-write after re-write, to accomplish just that. In the end, I'm surprisingly pleased with the outcome, and it's really hard for me to admit I'm proud of my own work. No more waiting, here's the conclusive last chapter of The Beckoning.

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Sam wasn't sure if he called out for his brother or not because he couldn't hear anything, including himself, past the pounding of his heart beating against his chest. He couldn't even feel himself run to the window, just watched in horror as he neared it at a rate too slow and too quickly for his liking.

Please be there…

His hands braced the sill of the window and a breath caught in his throat as he saw his brother holding onto the broken roofing along the side of the manor.

"A little help would be nice," Dean grunted, trying to pull himself back up and reclaim his footing. Sam hunched over the window and grabbed his brother's wrists, pulling him up as best he could until he could get a better grip on his hands. Dean, under normal circumstances, would have protested the notion of getting help from his little brother, but even Dean was one to compromise…as rare as those occasions may arise.

"Hold on," Sam said, with one final heave as he and his brother toppled back onto the floor; Sam fell on his back and Dean on his stomach and their shoulders collided.

"Well, I wasn't planning on letting go," Dean cracked a small smile, lifting himself up and nudging his brother to do the same, who was still catching his breath from the rush of adrenaline. "Come on now, let's go. We can nap later,"

Sam ignored his brother's teasing and ran out the door after him.

The hallway was full of smoke and the heat of the flames trailing the hallway filled the air. Without thinking, Dean took his jacket off and shoved it in Sam's face, urging him to hold it there so he wouldn't breathe in too much smoke. He then pushed Sam in front of him and helped guide him down the stairs, leaving Sam without time to argue that Dean should also worry about himself and not just his little brother. It was a futile argument anyway.

-:-

Making it outside the manor, the boys took in deep breaths of fresh air while continuing to run as far away as they could. The stopped once they reached the iron gates and Dean met the sight of his beloved Impala.

"I really should train her how to come to us when I whistle or something," Dean mused, rubbing a hand over her shiny, black top.

Sam laughed. "Only you, Dean,"

The two leaned against the car and took in the view of the manor burning down, flames erupting from the edges of windows and smoke towering up to the indigo sky. The cool night air didn't do much to erase the memory of the intense heat of fire against their bodies once more, as nothing really ever could. They watched for a few minutes, allowing their bodies a few moments to regain strength.

"Maybe we should get going, before the cops arrive," Dean suggested.

"You think anyone will show up for this place?"

"I don't feel like chancing it right now,"

Sam nodded and then tossed Dean his jacket back. "Thanks, by the way, but you didn't,"—

"I know, but I did. Deal with it," Dean interrupted his brother before he could finish. He then did his best to hide a faint smile and opened up the driver's side door. Sam shook his head and gave a sigh, walking over to the passenger side and climbing in. When he noticed Dean's most confused and frustrated expression as he'd ever shown, Sam understood why.

"You might need these," Sam jingled the keys to the Impala, and Dean's heart, out so his brother could see them gleam in the darkness. Dean swiped them, held them to his chest a moment, then stuck them in and turned the ignition on.

"She's still running, that's a good sign,"

"Hey," Sam became slightly annoyed. "I could handle her. I'm just as responsible as the next guy,"

"Nah," a grin emerged on Dean's face. "You're more responsible," and with that, he put the car into gear and took off. Once he reached the main highway, his confusion returned. "Um, maybe you want to remind me where we're going?"

Sam laughed lightheartedly, nodding in agreement.

The remainder of the car ride was fairly quiet. Dean kept the radio off and Sam suspected that maybe his head hurt. He wasn't going to press him for answers yet. That could wait until they were back at the motel.

Dean kept his eyes on the road but frequently noticed his younger brother staring at him in the corner of his eye. He wanted to tell him to quit it, but he knew questions would arise as well as answers that he wasn't ready to hear just yet. It could wait until they were back at the motel.

However, ten minutes into the quiet drive, Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean,"

Dean flinched, glanced over at Sam and back at the road.

"How's your wrist?" he asked, ignoring Sam's attempt to start a much-needed conversation. Sam sunk a little in his seat and for the first time looked directly away from his brother. He'd seen that look before from his brother, the kind of look that suggested whatever was keeping his thoughts should wait for a better time, a different time…any time but the present.

"Fine," Sam said effortlessly. It wasn't even a word so much to him anymore as it was another form of exhaling. "Oh, and take a left at the next intersection. The motel is on the right a couple miles down," he tried not to sound angry or upset, because at the moment he wasn't much of anything short of relieved and thankful.

Dean could only pick up on what he thought was hidden frustration in Sam's voice and felt a pang of guilt for being the cause of it.

He suddenly wondered about what his little brother had been through recently, and even wondered a bit about what he'd gone through without really realizing it. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and shut the ignition off.

"What are you doing?" Sam couldn't help but ask, looking back at the empty highway behind them and the empty highway before them.

"Okay, so let's get this over with,"

Sam eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to kill me now, are you? After all that?"

"No," Dean scrunched his face with disapproval at the thought, and then softened his expression. "Let's just talk."

"Talk?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No, it's just…"

"What?"

"Do you remember that you didn't remember?" Sam asked, with the question as puzzling to him as it was to Dean, who scratched his head.

"Well, right now things are kind of…fuzzy. I mean, I know who you are and who I am, and I know 'the truth is out there', and…the last thing I clearly remember is…" Dean paused and found it difficult to hold eye contact with Sam. "Back at the manor, you left…I guess I pissed you off or something and then…" he paused again, reflecting on their past argument. "…then a little here and there…bits and pieces, and suddenly you're lying on a bed in a room that's on fire,"

"And then you just remembered?"

"Yeah, it was like that feeling you get when you've overslept, and suddenly you wake up all startled and crap, and time's moving a lot faster then it should," Dean trailed off a moment, rubbing his temples and for once felt glad he took the time to pull over and have this talk, take this break. He then put his eyes back on Sam's. "Just, seeing you there like that…I didn't even care where I was or what had been happening, or that I didn't know. I just had to…well, I…I needed…"

"To save me from the fire," Sam finished with a sad smile. Save me like you always do.

Dean nodded. "Yeah," was all he could seem to say.

"I have a confession," Sam said suddenly, and Dean was worried when he saw the mistiness in his brother's eyes.

"Great. Do I want to know?"

"I…" Sam began, then turned away from Dean and shut his eyes. "I need some air," he added, quickly opening the door and stepping outside. Dean was already doing the same before Sam could even shut his door.

"Are you okay? What is it?"

"No, I don't know…God, Dean, I thought you were gone…I didn't know if you'd ever come back,"

"Sam,"

"You were so different, so…normal. You didn't have walls to put up, you didn't have secrets you had to keep…you didn't have me to burden you,"

"What the…what's that supposed to…"—

"The crazy thing is," Sam continued, ignoring his brother's confused protests, "I was happy for a while, kind of relieved. I thought, well now you can have a better life, one without monsters and demons, without…hunting. And I wanted you to have that life so bad…and I…I wondered what if this was your chance. If your amnesia was the key to a better, safer life…I didn't even care what you'd want,"

"Hey," Dean rested his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I came back, and…I understand. You don't need to feel guilty for wanting me to have better. I would have wanted the same for you. If wanting to keep painful memories away from those you care about is so terrible, then we're all terrible."

Sam bit his lip, trying to keep himself from crying and looking weak in front of his stronger, more confident in his rough exterior, brother.

"There's more to it than that,"

"Isn't there always?" Dean tried to lighten the situation and Sam sighed heavily.

"Dean, if I would have let you go live some other life, and later on you somehow remembered everything…you'd think I had abandoned you, that I left you…you would have hated me,"

"But that didn't happen, did it? And besides, I would never hate you. I will never hate you. Don't be such a pussy," Dean ruffled Sam's hair. Sam didn't seem to notice.

"Or worse, some monster could have attacked you off guard, could have killed you…and it'd be my fault because I didn't warn you. I wasn't going to tell you about our life…the only reason I did was because of that damn vampire, and…"

"We know better than anyone else in this world that the past is something that can't be changed, no matter how much we want to change it. What's done is done, Sam. All this will be a memory, so just forget about what you almost did or didn't do, all right? You're okay, I'm okay…we're okay. Now, things can start going back to…the way they were," Dean spoke sternly but softly, completely squeezing every drop of the 'I'm the older brother and I'll take care of you' tone in his words.

The younger Winchester squirmed in his stance, and how tired he was at fighting against his tears that so eagerly came to him in the past few days.

"I really missed you, you know?" Sam said, and a small tear finally escaped from his eyes and fell to the gravel below.

A single tear from Sam was all it took for Dean's heavy, impenetrable wall to crack and crumble, to be crushed beneath the weight of something greater: the love and concern for his brother.

"Come here, you little punk," Dean, in spite of himself, found it too easy to wrap both arms around his brother and pull him tightly into a hug that Sam comfortably returned.

Sam held on to his brother, almost not wanting to let go. So many worries and thoughts overflowed in his mind and he was consumed with guilt that he'd almost let Dean go forever; he'd almost lost his brother, almost abandoned him again. And with such distractions as the threat of a vampire turning his brother into a night-walking murderer, he realized how close he came to never being able to get Dean back.

And it took all the strength Dean possessed to fight the tears as he felt how strongly his little brother was hugging him, hanging on like he was actually afraid to let go, and it made him tighten his own grip to match Sam's. He only wished he could have prevented this whole ordeal and spared Sam the grief and the pain. And then a thought rang inside his head. Sam was alone through all this which meant…their father was still M.I.A.

"You shouldn't have gone through all this alone," Dean spoke quietly; unnerved at the thought their dad didn't care enough about either of them to see if they were all right. "I can't believe he…"

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered behind Dean's ear. It was as if he sensed he was going to bring up their dad. "Dad never came to see us, but…I think, in his own way, he checked up on us,"

The two parted a bit awkwardly, for a hug so tight is always odd to pull away from. Dean glanced up at Sam with confused tears in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"At the hospital, there was some other guy who came to visit but I never saw him. He gave the name of John Winters, according to the hospital secretary. I think…I think it was Dad,"

Dean quickly brushed away tears before they had a chance to leak out. He then composed himself and cleared his throat. "Well, that's Dad for you, isn't it…"

"Dean…before tomorrow comes and we, like usual, forget this whole conversation ever happened," Sam paused with relief when he saw a flicker of a smile flash on Dean's face. "I just want to say that…well, I never really…understood exactly how our mom's death affected you,"

The smile was gone and replaced with a frown. "I don't see what that has to do with anything,"

"You had a nightmare, well, it was a memory coming back to you…it was about the fire, and…you know…all that,"

"Oh…"

"I just wanted to tell you that I get it now. I mean, I got it before, how you felt and why you were in this hunt…but, now I really get it. Does that even make any sense?" Sam tensed up and slightly grinned at how ridiculous his babbling was sounding to Dean. "I mean, you've talked about that night, but to see you reacting to it all over again…"

"Sam, look, whatever happened…"

"You cried," Sam told him seriously, physically pained at the memory. "You cried…and it was weird because for some reason I didn't think you knew how to cry or that you even could cry…"

"Are you calling me a crybaby?" Dean interjected with forced amusement in his voice.

"No, I just…" Sam let out a sigh, realizing he'd never find the right words to say to fit their lifestyle, their situation, and these unpredictable circumstances that left them virtually speechless to begin with. "I'm glad you let some of it out, man. You shouldn't keep it all inside,"

"Hey," Dean nudged Sam a bit hard on his shoulder. "If I didn't, then these chick-flick moments wouldn't be as special, would they?"

Sam laughed quietly. "I guess not,"

"Speaking of which—this whole thing, the hug and the tears and the heart-to-heart—"

"Never happened, I know," Sam continued, not hiding a smile.

"That's my boy," Dean ruffled Sam's hair again, this time making sure Sam took notice.

"Quit it,"

"Aw, you like it, just admit it,"

Sam rolled his eyes and leered. "Let's just get back to the motel now. I don't know about you, but I'm tired,"

And Dean heeded his brother's suggestion. Sleep did sound good…after a nice, hot shower.

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Sam clenched his teeth as Dean made the final, closing stitch on his wrist.

"It's a good thing he didn't cut your wrist any deeper. Ya know, puncture something really bad," Dean mentioned, while wrapping a bandage around Sam's wrist.

"I'm guessing you have a reason why that's such a good thing aside from the obvious factor that I'd have bled to death without proper medical attention?"

"Yeah," Dean scoffed. "Cuz if he did, I'd have to find a way to bring that sucker back to life so I could kick his ass and kill him again,"

Sam grinned and rubbed his uninjured but sore hand over the new bandage. His eyes wandered to his brother's neck and the fading bite marks.

"So, are you okay? I mean, with the whole…" Sam pointed to his own neck and rubbed it.

"Oh, yeah…don't worry about me,"

"Um," Sam coughed forcefully to gain attention. "I think I have the right to worry about you sometimes, too,"

"Yeah, all right, Nanny Sam. I think I'm gonna make it. But right now, I'm going to take a nice, long shower. Do you need to join me so you can check my vitals once every ten seconds?"

Dean was answered with a pillow in his face. He caught the pillow when it began to slide back down, and took a peek at his innocent looking brother who thought nothing of what he'd done, although the smirk on his face said enough. "Okay, you got me, little brother. Happy now?" Dean tossed the pillow back and turned his attention to his duffle bag, digging through for a fresh change of clothes.

"Just for now," Sam concluded, lying down and letting his head plop against the pillow. He shut his eyes. "Wake me when you're done so I can shower,"

"Don't expect me to wake you up anytime soon, Sleeping Beauty,"

"Yeah, good night to you, too, Dean,"

"Night, Sam," Dean said with a sigh, walking towards the bathroom.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam called drowsily from his bed, keeping his eyes shut but maneuvering to a more comfortable sleeping position.

"Yeah?" Dean answered, turning the bathroom light on and facing his brother.

"It's Sammy…you can call me Sammy," Sam explained, sounding already halfway asleep.

Dean gave a quick smile. "Sweet dreams, Sammy,"

Dean shut the door, walked tiredly towards the shower and turned the water on. The cold liquid came rushing out of the showerhead but soon enough warmed up and steam began settling around the tiny bathroom, fogging the mirror. Dean stripped of his torn shirt and tattered jeans, tossing them away and climbed in the welcoming shower.

He allowed the warm water to run down his aching body and calm his tense muscles and weary limbs. Water trickled over his eyes and he shut them, completely submerging himself in the soothing rain. His mind was like a puzzle with missing pieces, and he was searching for them in a haze of jumbled pictures rampaging through his head.

He wasn't entirely sure what happened after the floorboard gave way below him and he fell three stories. He didn't understand what it must have been like not remembering who he was, and he feared how frightening it would be not to remember Sam. He couldn't decide if what he thought might have happened in the past few days actually did happen or not…but he was sure of one thing, understood one thing…and that was that his brother had saved him.

The roles were reversed, if only temporarily, and Sam stepped up and took charge. Dean realized a lot of things could have happened while he was trapped in a state of vulnerability, how easy it would have been for Sam to give up on him. But Sam didn't give up. And for that, and for a lot of other things, Sam was his hero.

Dean wished there was a way he could tell Sam that, but in the Winchester world such things as 'chick-flick' moments were supposed to be rendered unnecessary and trivial, and often a point of weakness that could lead to someone getting hurt—or worse. At least, that's the way it was in John Winchester's world and the world he tried to raise his sons in; the world Dean felt chained to, the world Sam fled from…

I'm glad you got away, if only for a little while…

Dean suddenly felt cold and he realized the hot water had run out. He mildly cursed beneath a breath and turned the faucet off, stepping onto the chilling tile floor and dripping water into a slippery puddle. He dried his hair off with a towel and proceeded to dry the rest of his body off, finishing by wrapping it around his waist and moving carefully over to the sink and mirror.

He leaned against the counter, inhaling the warmth of the steam still surrounding him. He took his hand and wiped across the moist mirror, and he jumped as fleeting images flashed before him.

Sam running. Red words on a mirror. 'I told you I'd come back'.

Dean flinched, staring into his reflection with odd fascination. His thoughts took him somewhere else, and he found himself looking up at the ceiling in remorse. He remembered the nightmare, the real nightmare…

His mother staring down. The fire. He fell to the floor and Sam caught him.

He then heard whispered words from Sam that enveloped him in unwavering security.

"We've still got each other…We'll always have each other…"

Dean backed up against the door, breathing heavily as the memory of the nightmare took over once more. But as Sam's words replayed in his mind, he found comfort and peace again.

He blinked away newly forming tears as some of the blanks from the past few days began to fill in without warning. He swallowed thickly and tried to remind himself that it was over, but he worried that Sam, and his forsaken ability to hold onto guilt, wouldn't be forgetting this anytime soon.

"Sammy…" Dean sighed, closing his eyes and holding his head in his hands. "I'm gonna find a way to tell you how proud I am of you for everything, I swear. I'm gonna find a way to thank you…"

-:-

The sun had risen and Dean watched through the window as the contrasting colors splayed across the barren horizon. He hadn't been able to sleep; his thoughts wouldn't allow him. Instead he sat in a chair by the window, taking turns glancing between the glowing sunrise and his peacefully sleeping brother. He took in the sunlit scenery, wondering what it might have been to never see the sunrise ever again, how he'd taken so much of this life for granted.

And when his eyes passed back over to Sam's direction, it hit him hard how he'd taken his brother for granted sometimes. Yet, now he'd have the chance to make up for lost time, and he was thankful for it. He wanted to wake Sam up, to have him watch the glory of daylight unfold into the hills in the distance and enjoy it with him…but then he wanted Sam to sleep and to enjoy his sleep, as Dean enjoyed every inhale and exhale that came and went from his brother.

He watched as the sunlight entered the room and washed the tired shadows away from Sam's face. It gave Dean a feeling of renewal to see, and a stray thought came to his mind that Sam's life was as endearing as a sunrise, and like such, held all hope for a new day ahead. He really didn't know where he'd be without Sam and he didn't plan on finding out…so long as the sun rises.

Dean was then distracted by a blinking light coming from the nightstand, indicating a new text message. He carefully walked over and picked up Sam's cell phone, taking a seat as quietly as he could on the noisy spring mattress. He found himself staring a few extra moments then was needed to observe who sent the text.

It was from their dad.

Without anymore hesitation, Dean opened the message and read it.

You deserve answers, but you're not ready to know. I'm proud of you for taking care of your brother. I was at the hospital, but I couldn't let you see me…not yet. It's still not safe. I'm sorry.

And yes, you're right. Dean deserves better. You both do.

Glad you're both safe now.

Dean held the phone in his hands, feeling it almost slip from his grasp and held on more firmly. He glanced back up at Sam who was still sleeping and then again at the text.

Dean thought for a moment about what "better" meant to him.

Right now, he was on road trip with his brother, constantly doing something adventurous, saving lives and kicking demon ass. The greatest part was getting to know his brother more and having Sam by his side, fighting with him. They were partners and made one hell of a team. At first, they were like Batman and Robin, but Sam was proving himself each day to be more than just the sidekick. Now, they were more like Batman and Superman, or the entire team of the Justice League rolled into two brothers with one destiny.

Dean thought again about what "better" meant to him.

He laughed silently, looking over to Sam once more and he wondered what could possibly become better when you already had the best?

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The End

Okay, I'm a little misty-eyed here, because I have issues with letting go, lol. I truly hope you liked the ending. This part is my favorite, but it's kind of bittersweet for me. A billion thank you's to each and every one of you, really…thank you. You've given me a ton of inspiration, and now I'm ready to try a new twisted tale for our guys. I've never hit 200 reviews, let alone 100, and I'll never quite get over that. Thank you again for reading. You guys rock beyond words!

Silver Kitten