Broken Wings
CHAPTER 1:
Sam couldn't believe his eyes when he had seen him.
He hadn't seen him for over a year, had given up any hope of ever seeing him again and guiltily, he had let himself get involved with fighting the war so he could forget the last time he had seen him; bloodied, screaming in agony, his face contorted in unimaginable pain, then still with eyes wide open, but unseeing. Sam had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep the images from flooding in again.
He and Bobby had never found a way to get Dean out of Hell, short of opening the Devil's Gate again with the Colt, which they knew Dean never would have wanted so though they kept trying to find a way to save him, the attempts became more futile and less frequent. It gave Sam a hopelessness that he had never truly overcome. Deep down in his own soul, he knew he had failed his brother.
So to suddenly see Dean show up at Bobby's door, looking awful, like someone who had emerged from Hell and had walked miles and miles without food or water to get to them, took his breath away. He was wearing the same shredded and bloody t-shirt and jeans he had on when he had died. Wounds were everywhere and he was covered in his own blood just like he had been after the hellhound had ripped into him. What frightened Sam the most was the vacuous emptiness in Dean's eyes. A look of being beyond tired, beyond dying, beyond hope. Dean only said one word before collapsing.
"Sam?"
He and Bobby managed to catch him before he hit the floor and Sam single-handedly scooped his limp body into his arms. He took him into one of the bedrooms and laid him out carefully. Dean looked dead laying there and it brought a shiver from a bad memory. Sam was afraid that maybe he really was one of the living-dead, but Dean had felt warm in his arms, his breathing too real and steady, and his heart beating too strongly for a zombie.
After laying him down, Sam looked over at Bobby, whose face had a look of surprise to match his own.
"Did you do something?" Sam asked, knowing the answer, but needing something to say in the shocked silence.
"No," Bobby answered with a hushed disbelief.
"Then how?"
"Damned if I know."
"Could he have clawed out somehow?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Bobby said in sarcastic amazement at the sight before him.
Bobby and Sam then allowed momentary shaky smiles to cross their faces. Dean's memory was still strong and prevalent even after almost two years and they both could still imagine Dean clawing out of Hell with fierce determination. Trouble was Dean looked anything but fierce and determined, as he lay unconscious in front of them.
"I'll stay with him," Sam said.
Bobby nodded, not surprised.
A few hours passed and Sam had fallen asleep himself. He felt a hand touch his head and awoke slowly, feeling more comfort than fear from the touch. He had been so afraid that seeing Dean had been a dream and he grasped onto the hope that the touch was real.
He raised his head up and looked at Dean. Dean's eyes were rimmed with dark circles, his face sallow and almost ghostly, yet with all that, Sam saw the dim light of recognition in his brother's eyes and couldn't help, but feel joy, however small, at knowing that Dean hadn't forgotten him.
"Dean?"
Dean placed his fingers on Sam's face, almost as if like a blind man trying to retrace features in order to memorize them, but Sam knew that Dean was just making sure he was really there, that Sam wasn't a dream either so he let him touch him.
"Sammy?" Dean croaked.
Dean looked into Sam's eyes and his own filled immediately with tears. His cries were a mix of relief, joy and pain. Sam had never seen or heard Dean sob. Dean had shed a tear, many of them, but he had never broken down into uncontrollable sobbing, not even when in agony at the claws of the hellhound.
"Is that…really…you?" Dean asked.
"Yeh, Dean, it's really me. You're back. I don't know how and I don't care. You're back," Sam said, his own voice betraying overwhelming relief and joy at having his brother back, his own sobs joining his brother's.
Dean continued to sob, seemingly unable to stop. He had been so good at putting up walls, defending himself against emotions, but it was as if Hell had stripped him of the ability. He couldn't stop the tears. They just kept coming and coming. He was completely at the mercy of them.
Sam, at first, didn't know what to do. It had always been Dean who had comforted and reassured, but now, here was Dean utterly stripped bare with pain and tears and Sam hesitated, not knowing what to do. Slowly and gently he followed his own need to hold his brother, to put his arms around him to confirm that he was flesh and bone and not dust and illusion. He held him softly at first, afraid that Dean would recoil or jump back away from him. He then tightened his arms around him so that Dean could feel them enveloping him.
Dean had been limp in his arms initially, but when Sam's hold tightened around him, he hugged him back. He then grabbed at Sam's shirt as if it were a lifeline and continued to sob.
Sam just held him there, rocked him as he had remembered Dean doing so many times when they were kids. The moment was wordless. There was no need for them. Questions could be asked and answered later. For now, they both needed to believe that they weren't in some cruel dream that would rip them apart again at any second.
oooo
Dean finally, weak and weary, fell asleep in Sam's arms and Sam laid him back on the bed.
He sat back into his chair, chewing on his finger. Bobby quietly entered the room.
"How's he doing?"
"I don't know, Bobby. Whatever he went through in Hell or to get back to us, it's wrecked him. He was crying. I've never seen him like that," Sam said, worry and concern on his face.
"We'll never know or be able to understand what Dean went through. All we can do is be there for him and hope he comes back to us."
"What? What do you mean 'comes back to us'? He's already here," Sam said, sounding terrified that Dean could be less than the man he had known all his life. "He knew me. He's still Dean. He's just tired, that's all."
"Sam, you have to be ready to face that Dean…well, that he probably won't be the same Dean you knew. Hell changes a person," Bobby said.
"No, no, not Dean," Sam insisted.
"Even Dean, Sam. I want him back the way he was just as much as you do, but no one can go through what he has and not come out of it changed."
"Like you said, we don't know what he went through, but Dean is the strongest person I've ever known. He just needs rest. Lots and lots of rest."
"Sam…"
Sam looked at Bobby and his intellect was telling him to believe Bobby, but his heart couldn't take any more beatings. It needed to believe. It needed to hope.
Bobby watched Sam crumbling under the weight of his emotions and knew pushing wouldn't help, not now, so he let it go.
They had to live moment to moment for now until they knew all the facts and only Dean could give them the answers, if he could give them at all.
oooo
Dean woke up and tried to remember where he was. It didn't take long and relief hit him when he saw Sam snoozing away in his chair. He hadn't dreamt it all after all. He had gotten out somehow and had found his way back to Sammy, to Bobby's house, all the while hoping that it was still where he had remembered. How he had gotten there was a blur for now.
He slowly slipped out of the bed, hoping not to wake Sam. He had to take a leak and marveled at how glad he felt to do something so elemental. Moving was excruciating and a quick survey of his body showed that he still had the wounds from when the hellhound had ripped him to shreds. He couldn't figure out how he could have made it there being as injured as he was, but amazingly, despite the pain, he seemed in one piece for the most part. He knew he'd have to address his wounds and for reasons he didn't know, he understood what it would take to heal them. For now, he had to get to the bathroom. Once he was done, he staggered slowly out to the living room of Bobby's place and found him pouring over books.
Bobby looked up and saw Dean standing unsteadily in front of him.
"What are you doing up? You can barely stand," Bobby scolded lightly and Dean felt reassured by the familiar sound of Bobby's voice.
Bobby walked over and helped Dean onto a comfortable couch. Though he could see blood everywhere on Dean's torso, he couldn't see how bad off he was. He'd have to ask him about his injuries later. What Dean looked like he needed right then was just to sit down.
"Good to see you, Bobby," Dean said with a trembling smile.
He looked into Bobby's eyes and again, his emotions caught him unguarded, his eyes welled.
"Thanks for watching out for Sammy," Dean said, his voice a tremor.
Bobby was thrown for a loop. He hadn't been expecting such a raw admission and could only nod.
"How long have I been gone?"
Bobby gulped his own emotion down before he answered him.
"Almost two years," he finally said.
"Huh…seems longer somehow," Dean said absently.
"Dean, I have to ask, how did you –"
"Claw out of Hell?" Dean said, but without his characteristic humor.
Bobby just nodded again.
"To be honest, I don't remember. One minute I was…" Dean started then stopped to spare Bobby the gruesome details. "Then the next I was out in a field and somehow…somehow I knew where I was and that I wasn't far from your place. Don't ask me how I knew…I just did so I just started walking and ended up here. A lot of it is a blur."
Bobby fell silent, unable to voice his next questions.
"You're wondering how I am or what I am," Dean said.
"Well, yeh, but how did you –"
"I don't know. I just knew what you were going to ask me…felt it really."
Bobby just gave him a skeptical look and Dean sensed his apprehension.
"Bobby, I won't blame you if you think that maybe I've gone darkside…I can't tell you I haven't…I don't even remember how I ended up here so if you want me to leave –"
"Now why would I want you to do that? I meant what I said. Family don't end with blood. We'll suss this out together."
Dean breathed a sigh of relief at Bobby's reassurance.
"How are you, Dean? Really, be truthful with me."
"Tired…so weak…in pain…scared…" Dean said, his voice cracking, evading a bit.
Dean shivered then grimaced. Bobby reached over for a blanket on the couch and wrapped it around Dean.
"Better?"
"Yeh, thanks…Funny, I should feel so cold after…" Dean trailed off.
"So, you remember anything from Hell?"
"Some things…not anything good."
"Is there anything good to remember about Hell?" Bobby teasingly asked.
"No, I suppose not," Dean said, but without a smile.
Bobby was worried. Dean just looked empty, drained of life.
"I'm not myself, I know it, problem is, I don't know what I am," Dean said, a touch of resignation in his voice. "I don't want to become a monster. I don't want to hurt you or Sam…"
Bobby saw the vulnerable uncertainty in Dean's eyes. He knew that Dean had been scared before, life as a hunter is full of fear, but what he saw now was a growing terror in Dean's eyes.
"You won't hurt us, Dean. I know that in my gut. Like I said, we'll suss it out. I'm just glad you're back," Bobby admitted.
"I hope you still will be," Dean said, not ominously, just sadly and Bobby's heart broke at Dean's statement.
Dean wasn't his usual sarcastic self. He was saying the words, but they came out more tired and resigned than biting and humorous. Bobby hoped that it was just a part of a temporary readjustment back to the Earthly world, but deep down, he knew that Dean had been scarred, that he hadn't been spared Hell's tortures and would inevitably suffer some kind of after effect from the experience.
One thing Bobby did know for sure though was that Dean was still the hero who had left them almost two years ago. Giving Bobby the option to cast him out without recrimination had showed him that Dean was still the principled young man he had always known. Hell hadn't beaten that out of him. He wasn't evil, just changed. Changed in a way that Bobby couldn't be sure would be for the better for Dean, but he was sure that Dean was still the man who would do anything to save someone. He was still the brother who would make the same deal to save Sam all over again even knowing all he did about Hell. Bobby just didn't think that Dean had the passion for life he once had. He had seen a darkness that no good person should ever have to see and it had left its mark on him.
"Nonsense, of course, we'll still be glad you're back," Bobby said then paused. "Sam and I, we barely survived after well…you know. When all the demons left their human hosts, I rushed back into the house, but I was too late…I saw you and I…"
As hardened a hunter as Bobby was, he would never be able to erase the image of Dean torn up and covered in blood on the floor of that house.
"I'd have given anything to keep Sam from watching me get shredded by the hellhound. I heard him screaming at Lillith to stop, but I knew…I knew it wouldn't stop until it was finished with me," Dean said solemnly as he twitched with pain, closed his eyes then moaned.
"You all right there?" Bobby asked, worried. "How hurt are you?"
"Yeh…" Dean said, his voice trailing off for a moment. "You know, you get used to it, the pain…you don't think you ever will and you hear yourself begging to make it stop, but once you realize that it's never going to, that the pain is your existence, it becomes a part of you."
Dean almost seemed like he had faded away for a moment, but then took in a breath.
"Dean, you don't have to –"
"I know, but funny thing, it helps to talk about it. All the time I was there, I thought about Sam…kept reminding myself that it had all been worth it because Sam was okay, that he was alive."
"Was it really worth it, Dean? Even after everything?" Bobby asked, unable to believe that Dean could think it had been.
Dean turned and with an eerie acceptance on his face, he said, "Yeh, Bobby it was."
The answer startled him and Dean sensed it.
"I know you think I'm crazy and maybe I am, but even going through what I did in Hell, it was still worth it. Seeing Sammy at the door, alive, I…I can't even begin to tell you how I felt...it was worth it, Bobby," Dean said, his voice breaking and on the verge of sobbing again.
Bobby watched Dean, looking haggard, like his soul had been cut out of him, aging him beyond his real years and heard the words of a man who still loved his brother, if not life anymore. There was a definitive haunted quality in Dean's voice, but there was also a tired conviction that still resonated in him. The fire that was Dean's will had been dimmed, but even with everything Hell and its occupants had thrown at him, it hadn't been extinguished. Dean's goodness had amazingly survived, if not scarred. If Bobby hadn't seen it, felt it actually, he would have never have believed such survival was possible. What worried him though was how much more Dean would have to endure being back with them. He already knew Dean had come back with some abilities, but whether they would turn on him, Bobby didn't know. Also, Dean had been gutted in every way in Hell. Would he ever be the same again? Or would he just sleep walk through life until it was finally over.
Bobby watched as Dean nodded off to sleep on the couch. Sam rushed in, panicked at finding Dean gone, but Bobby shushed him so that he wouldn't wake Dean.
"Is he okay?" Sam asked.
"He's as okay as he can be for now."
"What? Did he tell you something?"
Bobby looked over at Sam and smiled, his eyes welling.
"What's wrong, Bobby?"
"Nothing, Sam, it's just that I'm so glad to have him back. Guess it's finally hitting me."
Sam understood and nodded.
"Did he say anything to you about, you know, Hell?" Sam asked.
"Nothing specific, but I can tell you it was bad. He's just not telling us how bad it really was for him to spare us."
Sam sat in another chair and watched Dean sleep fitfully on the couch.
"It's all my fault. He should never have had to go there."
"Sam, no, don't go falling into that trap of blaming yourself. I asked Dean point blank if knowing what he does now about Hell if he thought it had been worth it and damn it if he didn't throw me for a loop when he said that it had been, that finding you at the door, alive, when he had come back confirmed for him that he would do it all over again. So, you see, Dean doesn't believe he made a mistake."
"But look at what he's given up to do it."
"Sam, we can't go on talking about what ifs any more. It isn't fair to him. He's been through too much. It's been almost two years. I can't imagine what tortures he was subjected to, but it's done. Dean wants to move on, but I gotta be honest with you, it's not going to be easy for him. He told me that when you're subjected to enough pain, you begin to accept it. You begin to think that it's just a part of existing. We have to help him get through that and help him adjust to being back. The rest is up to Dean."
Sam nodded in understanding, "You're right, Bobby."
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by Dean's moans and gasps for air. He was having a nightmare.
oooo
Dean watched as Meg approached him. He was pinned by hooks to chains and stretched to his body's limits. The more he strained against them, the more they pulled at him. His pain intensified as she approached him. A wave from her evil essence hit him and enflamed his nerves, muscles, and skin. It made him arch back from it like it was a sonic wave. He groaned.
"So, finally, we meet on my turf. I couldn't wait for this day."
"Yeh, I bet."
The closer she got, the more intense the pain got. She circled him and when she grazed her finger across his cheek, it was like a hot poker burning a brand into his skin. Dean fisted his chains and closed his eyes.
"Like that do you? There's more where that came from. Much more."
"Yeh, well, all we got is time so make the most of it, bitch."
"Oh, I plan to. When I heard that you had made that deal, I couldn't believe it. I thought, he couldn't POSSIBLY be THAT stupid, but once again, you keep surprising me on how much you keep giving it up for that ungrateful family of yours."
Dean wanted to block her out, but he knew he couldn't. This was Hell, his Hell. She was one of his "victories", one of the many demons he doesn't regret sending to Hell. Knowing his track record and smiling inwardly over his successes, he knew that there would a long line waiting to get their shot at him. It didn't surprise him that Meg would be the first.
"You know, you got some serious issues there. When are you ever going to get over that, huh? You just keep on beating that dead horse," Dean taunted. "It just isn't healthy."
Meg then stroked his face and no matter how hard he struggled, he knew he couldn't get away. Her hand seared into his face and he smelled the burning flesh. It took everything in him to keep from screaming.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Dean, you're going to rot here and for what? For little Sammy."
"Only I get to call him that," Dean spit out defiantly.
"Dead should stay dead, you said it yourself. You think you did Sam a favor by bringing him back? You have no idea what you've done, do you? You gave us our ace in the hole to the war. With you gone, he doesn't stand a chance."
"Shut up! You can talk all you want, but I won't believe a word of it. Demons lie, YOU lie."
"Ruby was right about one thing, Sam's got a bomb inside of him. With the idea of you festering down here all because of him, all because of what you did to bring him back, it's only a matter of time before that fuse gets lit by just the right flame. Maybe it'll be Lillith, Sam really pissed her off big time."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, that's right, you were already rotting on the floor. Seems Lillith tried her flamethrower act on Sam so that she could be numero uno, but it didn't work. Sam neutralized her, but she got away so she's got another crack at him."
Dean was, at first, fearful, but hearing that Sam had defeated Lillith and had survived brought a proud smile to his face.
"Don't be so happy, Dean. Just means Sam's got some untapped power there. Find the right key…"
"Sam won't let it happen."
"You sure about that? Ruby almost had him, but you got in her way. You're not there anymore to get in the way. Give Sam the right reason and he'll give in. Remember, he's still trying to save you, to get you out of here, if someone dangles the right offer –"
"He won't be a martyr like me."
"Oh, so you think that little speech of yours will keep him from tapping into his yet unrealized potential?"
Meg faced Dean and smiled.
"What do you think, Father?"
Dean gasped at what had emerged behind Meg, the yellow-eyed demon or Azazel to his fellow demons.
"I think that Sam is ours," Azazel smiled and laughed.
"No, NO!!" Dean screamed.
oooo
Bobby and Sam watched as Dean's breathing became erratic and uneven as he struggled in his sleep. They then intervened, trying to wake him, but it was like Dean wasn't hearing them. Suddenly, Dean screamed and startled awake, his eyes wide open with terror.
For a moment, he was disoriented and didn't recognize where he was, all he felt was threatened and afraid. In that instant, he felt energy leave his body and thrust outward, hurling Bobby and Sam across the room and into the wall. As soon as he saw them both fall, he regained his senses and realized what he had done, even though he had no idea how he had done it. He tried to get up to help them, but the wounds from the hellhound were still raw and pain shot through him like a million knives cutting into him. He sat back breathless and agonized over what he had just done. All the fears that he had while heading towards Bobby's were coming back. What if he had been possessed? He would be a danger to Bobby and Sam, but he had no strength to run away to protect them.
Bobby and Sam got back onto their feet and ran over to Dean to help him. Dean looked over at Bobby and he pleaded with his eyes.
"Bobby, please, get the holy water," he gasped.
Sam tried to reach for Dean, but Dean stopped him.
"Stay back, Sam, not until we know I'm not possessed."
Sam just nodded. Bobby returned with a glass of holy water and gave it to Dean. Dean hesitated, afraid of knowing the answer, but knowing he had to find out. He took a large gulp and waited for the burning sensation, but it didn't come. The water felt normal, cooling as it flowed down his throat. There was no pain, no burning, and no smoke. He wasn't possessed. Relief washed over him as he handed the glass back to Bobby, thanking him with a look. He lay back onto the couch and Sam approached to sit next to him.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked, worried. "What happened?"
"Don't know," Dean said tiredly. "I was having a nightmare and when I woke up, I wasn't sure where I was. I was terrified. I felt this energy flow out of me then it pushed you both away. I'm sorry…I had no control over it."
"It's okay, Dean. We're okay," Sam reassured.
"I thought that maybe I'd been possessed, but the water didn't hurt me. I…I don't know what's happening to me and I'm afraid I'm putting you both in danger."
"We can handle ourselves, Dean," Bobby reassured in his own way.
Dean grimaced with pain, wrapping his arms around his mid-section. It was then that Sam had realized that they had been so shocked at seeing him back, they had forgotten to check Dean for wounds. He had come back all bloodied and wearing the same clothes he had died in.
"Dean, you're not possessed. I think you just need to get patched up and to get some rest," Sam said.
Sam reached for him.
"Let's head to the bathroom and –"
"No, no, I can do it," Dean said, trying to hide his injuries from Sam.
"Let us help you, Dean," Sam said as he opened Dean's shirt.
"No, it's not that…it's just…" Dean stammered as he continued to grimace with every move he made.
Before Dean could stop him, Sam saw what was beneath the shreds of cloth that was Dean's t-shirt. He took in an involuntary gasp at what he saw.
Through the ripped clothes and flesh he saw Dean's ribs and his internal organs. His muscle had been torn away from bone. Unable to stop himself, Sam turned away, feeling bile rising, but trying to keep from losing it.
Dean could only sigh as Bobby, too, took in the horrific damage with shock and disbelief.
"Dean, have you been like this all along? Why didn't you say something?" Bobby asked.
"I'm okay. I can handle it. I know what to do. Can you just fill a tub with holy water for me?" Dean asked softly.
Bobby shook his head in frustration then headed towards the bathroom.
Sam turned back around and looked as if he would faint.
"God, Dean," Sam said then snapped back to reality. "Bobby's right. Why didn't you tell us?"
"I'm sorry, Sam, I just didn't want you to see…"
Then realization hit Sam on why Dean had asked Bobby to fill a tub full of holy water.
"What are you going to do?"
"There's only one way to heal the wounds made by a hellhound. Holy water."
"Wait, you're not thinking –"
"It's the only way, Sam."
Bobby returned and nodded towards Dean.
"It's ready," Bobby said, his frustration replaced by concern because he had already known what Dean was intending to do.
"Thanks," Dean said. "I need you both to promise me that no matter what you hear, you won't come in."
"Dean -" Sam started.
"Sam, do it for me, okay? I'm not going to lie to you, it won't be easy for you to hear, but it'll be even worse for you to see and I just can't do that to you again. I was helpless to stop it before, but I won't back down on this."
"How long?" Bobby asked.
"I don't know. Long. It's not just about repair. Hellhounds, they're more than just rabid," Dean said, leaving the details out.
"But how will we know –" Sam said.
"I'll come out when it's done."
Sam looked into Dean's eyes and Dean sensed his terror.
"You'll know, Sam," Dean said without having to say that if it didn't work, Sam would know.
Dean walked towards the bathroom then without looking back he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Bobby saw the stark terror in Sam's eyes. Facing having to lose Dean all over again could just kill Sam this time. Bobby had to admit that he wasn't so sure he'd survive it a second time himself.
They then heard the screams. Bobby hadn't witnessed Dean's death at the claws of the hellhound, but he had seen the result and could only imagine the agonies Dean must have endured then. Looking at Sam's reaction to hearing Dean screaming again, he knew that it must have been like Sam was reliving that moment all over again. He saw Sam quaking, fisting his hands until they were white, his face pale, color drained from it, tears rolling down his cheeks. Amidst it all, Bobby could hear Sam whispering to himself.
"Not again, please, not again, not again…"
oooo
TO BE CONTINUED