Dream On

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: Ridley is all about The Brotherhood and Kripke is all about Supernatural. I do not profit from either.

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

Chapter 6/6

The hunters and Sam gathered in the small triage room. The clinic had allowed them all to move in. Mackland wanted to keep an eye on his patient and if everything went well then they would take Dean home later on in the morning. Ames could watch over the teen at Pastor Jim's house.

Caleb began to chuckle. The others looked at him, and he decided to share the amusing thought. "You know, Jim, between Johnny's camo look at church last Sunday and Dean sporting some impressive bruises, there's going to be talk."

Mackland gave his son a stern look.

Reaves jutted his chin out towards the teen who lay in bed, a white bandage wrapped around his head and his arm heavily casted. It was pitiful site. "Maybe they'll start a fund for Dean. . .Hey, the kid will love it."

"Don't give him any ideas." John growled.

Sam sat next to Caleb, dozing against the young psychic. The boy shifted and woke up with a yawn. "Did Dean wake up yet?"

Absentmindedly Reaves hugged Sam closer. "Not yet, I promised you I would tell you."

Dean sighed. He must have known his brother was losing patience.

The teen's mouth felt dry and as if he had chewed a baseball. His right arm was uncomfortable and he tried to move it, but was unable to. He opened his eyes to find his arm in a cast.

"Doctor Michaels did it while you were asleep." Mackland Ames's face loomed above him, moving immediately to his side as soon as he saw his patient move.

Dean didn’t answer instead deciding nodding his head was a better idea. A straw came into view and he took a sip of the cool water. He closed his eyes again.

"How do you feel?" John asked, not touching his son. Mackland noticed the man was not demonstrative with his children. It was interesting to see Dean and Sam interact. Dean was affectionate with his brother.

"I feel like a truck hit me."

"More like dropped on you." He heard the familiar voice of Caleb Reaves

He opened his eyes to see his father, Caleb, Sam and Pastor Jim all hovered nearby.

"So, Deuce, what do you think of Pastor Jim's brew?" Caleb smirked.

Dean frowned, then recalled how he had passed the time by drinking some beer and wine from the root cellar. "I don’t think I want to drink for awhile." He had some more sips of water. "I think something died in my mouth."

"Looks like you got another teetotaler, Dad." Caleb commented. His father never drank to the level of the hunters, and gave the boys numerous speeches about drinking in moderation.

Dean tried to shift up in order to be more comfortable against the pillows, but his back protested. He gave up, then looked at Jim. The Chevy was a mess as well as the root cellar. "Are you mad at me?"

Jim was taken aback. He placed a hand on Dean's foot and gave it a squeeze. "No, of course not, my boy. I wish I had known that old truck was in such a sorry state, I would have never let you work under it. I'm sorry."

"I can fix it-" Dean started.

"Tell you what, Kiddo, when you’re feeling better we'll do it together." His father said, bringing a grin to the teen's face.

Sam wormed his way closer so his brother could see him. "Hey, Sammy. How was the research?"

"Caleb made these funny eyes at the librarian and she helped him. I read the Three Musketeers." Sam reviewed his day with his older brother. "I can check it out of the library for you."

"Okay." Dean closed his eyes again, trying to bring the headache to a dull roar. "Can I go home soon?"

"You have a concussion, Dean," Mac explained. "Broken arm, two broken ribs, laceration in the scalp and some contusions on your back."

"Guess no baseball for awhile." Dean was disappointed. He would miss the spring season.

"You know when a bone breaks it heals stronger." The doctor informed him.

"Caleb, why don’t you take Sam and Jim back to the house?" John pulled Sam up, and carried the ten-year-old. He noticed Dean was tiring out.

Mackland nodded in agreement. "If everything goes well then we'll bring Dean home in the afternoon."

"Okay, but don't forgot about him." Sam rubbed his eyes.

Caleb shot a look at his father.

"Forget about me?" Dean opened his eyes and frowned.

"Dad, Caleb, Mac and Pastor Jim- all forgot about you Dean. I didn’t forget." The boy said matter-of-factly.

Hurt flashed in the teen's green eyes. Pastor Jim, Mackland and Caleb all shared guilty looks. John was oblivious.

"Thanks, Sammy, you did great." He praised his brother.

Caleb put a hand on Dean's forehead over the white bandage. He tried to lighten the mood. "We sacrificed a steak dinner for you, Dude."

Dean nodded, his eyes blinking, wanting to close to sleep. "I saw the tuna casserole."

"Mrs. Olsen is being thoughtful, boys." Pastor Jim interrupted. "You will tell her the casserole was delicious."

"You want us to lie, Pastor Jim?" Sam wiggled in his father's grasp.

Caleb and John tried to hide their smirks, unsuccessfully. It wasn’t often Jim found himself speechless.

"No, I, come along Samuel." Jim stated. "I will see you tomorrow, my boy." He gave Dean's foot another pat before leading the way out.

"I'll be right back." John said to Dean as he escorted the others out.

Caleb took a few more moments. "Becca Hensen is so going to dig the injuries, Deuce."

Dean snorted then coughed, which resulted in a grimace as his ribs protested. "Yeah, the whole wounded hero."

"Hero?" Reaves grinned. "A truck fell on you."

"She won't know that." Dean yawned.

Caleb grinned at the teen, then gestured to his father to come closer to the door out of Dean's ear shot. "That comment didn’t sit well with him."

Mackland smiled at his son. He understood Caleb's dedication to the Winchester brothers. Ames wished he could do more for them too. "I'll try, Son. I'll try."

Caleb left to catch up to Jim and head back to the farm house. He hoped John had not given the keys to the pastor.

John returned with two cups of coffee from the vending machine. Mackland was seated watching over his patient, and accepted the cup. John pulled another chair over.

Dean was resting again. Mac hoped he was dreaming of Becca Hensen, baseball and helping his father fix the truck instead of the nightmare of being forgotten and abandoned.

Mac glanced at John, gesturing to Dean. "He's a good boy."

John exhaled through pursed lips and sat straighter in his chair. "Do I want to know where this is going?" He rubbed a hand down his face. "Sounds like 'despite what you've done, he's a good kid.'"

They all felt a little guilty for having not noticed immediately Dean was missing. "He should know he's important, special."

"I know you think you'd do a better job raising him, both of them." John crossed his arms.

"I didn't say that." Mac replied, seeing his friend getting defensive. When the boys were younger, the doctor had numerous one-sided conversations about how John was raising the boys. But, as time went on he intruded less, noticing the conversations made things worse for the brothers. "He has dreams John, they should be encouraged."

"Dreams?" John glanced at his teenage son.

"Baseball, college -" Ames went down the list Caleb had shared with him.

"Dean has responsibilities at home."

The doctor took a sip of the bitter brew. He hated vending machine coffee. "Hunting, taking care of you and Sam-those shouldn’t be the responsibilities of a boy."

"It's what he signed up for." John stated his justification.

And Mackland was disappointed in his friend. He related everything to the military. "He wasn't drafted into the army, John."

"He didn’t ask to be the next Guardian either…"

Ames sighed, and backed away from the conversation. "Touche."

"Thanks for what you did tonight, but I don’t want another parenting lecture." John bent down and picked up the coffee he had placed under his chair.

The next day, after lunch, Caleb was called to pick up the trio at the hospital. Dean was being released, and could spend time recuperating at Jim's house under Mac's care. John carried the sleeping teen in, and brought him upstairs to his bedroom.

Jim was going to be busy the remaining part of the week with his parishioners due to the upcoming Easter holiday. This left Mac and Sam to entertain the cranky bed ridden teenager.

"He needs to sleep right now, but when he wakes up you can read to him." Mackland stated to Sam who was playing Monopoly with Caleb.

Reaves snorted. "Oh, that should keep him entertained for a good twenty minutes."

Ames narrowed his eyes at his son's taunting. "You can do better?"

Caleb was smug, and looked at John. "I'm supposed to help you track down that cult leader…"

John smiled back. "You know Mac when was the last time you were in the field? Maybe you need some recertification…"

Mackland pretended to ponder the question. "You may be right."

Caleb's mouth dropped open. He had been completely set up.

John winked. "Sorry, Junior, pulling rank."

"Great," he said to Sam who was counting his pile of money.

"Can we play UNO next?" The ten-year-old asked.

The next three days left Caleb with a sore Dean and an energy-filled Sam. He was thankful Dean slept most of the time, getting up to eat and drink. The third day brought more restlessness and so Caleb constructed a sheet fort, which seemed to keep the youngest Winchester more occupied than the oldest Winchester brother.

Reaves noticed the joking nature between John and Mac. They were having too much fun over such a small case.

That night Dean was given some pain medication to help him sleep. His encased arm was strapped to his side to limit his movement. His back was sore, his cuts were itchy and his arm and ribs throbbed, but he felt less hazy and lethargic.

Sam was beside him, sleeping with a light snoring.

He heard the laughing downstairs, then the footsteps nearing his room. He kept his eyes wide open, curious to see who was checking on him. Caleb opened the door.

"Hey, I thought you would be out by now." Reaves stepped into the room.

"Not yet. What's going on?" Dean fidgeted trying to get comfortable.

Caleb helped lift the teen up, then adjusted the pillows underneath him. "Johnny and Mac are acting like football players reliving the winning touchdown." Caleb began to mimic the older hunter's voices.

"Shouldn’t be giving you any more trouble, Jim. Thanks to Mackland." Caleb lowered his voice, a pale imitation of John's.

Reaves then puffed up and mimicked his father. "I don’t know John. That threat about draining his blood and stringing him up. . ."

"Well you were the one who described how exactly one drains blood.. . .Mentioning the blade you would use-priceless." Caleb practically memorized the moronic, infantile conversation and used John's diction.

"Jealous, Damien?" Dean scoffed, keeping his voice low as to not wake up a sleeping Sam.

Reaves rolled his eyes. "Hell, no, I love playing babysitter."

"You babysit Sammy, you hang out with me."

"Thanks for setting me straight, Deuce." Caleb sat on the edge of the bed. He gestured to the younger Winchester. "Did you slip those drugs to Sam?"

Dean shook his head.

"So what gives?" Caleb didn’t want to search Dean's mind for what was bothering the teen.

Dean exhaled sharply, looked at Caleb, then glanced away. "You fucking forgot about me?"

The psychic was hoping the teenager had forgotten his brother's comment. Instead he had stewed for days. "Dean, we didn’t forget about you." They would have found him an hour earlier had they noticed immediately. But, Caleb didn’t want to bring up semantics. This was a tender topic involving a lot more than a bruised ego. "I trust you to keep out of trouble. I thought you were out with Pastor Jim."

"Well, I wasn’t." Dean pouted, frustrated his arm was immobile. He had loss a sense of worth upon learning he hadn’t been missed. Then there was also the fear of being left alone. "I get it Caleb. I'm an ensign. I think Atticus has a higher rank than me."

And Caleb felt he was doing the cleanup work, putting Dean back together. "Dude, we got the three generals downstairs. I'm a Colonel, and that makes you like a Major."

"What?" Dean narrowed his eyes. He had taken a keen interest in the military because of his father. "That's fucked man."

"Yeah, I never liked playing army." Reaves commented. He had come into Mac's life at age thirteen and the doctor had an aversion to toy soldiers. He cleared his throat, and made sure Dean was looking at him. "But I know we couldn’t do any of this without you, Deuce." He nodded at the teen. "Never forget that."

Dean looked away, and thoughtfully gazed at his brother. "Yeah."

Caleb saw the glance to Sam. It was true; the youngest Winchester benefited the most from Dean. The teen yawned, unable to overcome the drugs in his system. "Try to get some sleep. Think about baseball."

"Yeah, alright." Dean closed his eyes.

"I'll stay here until you fall asleep." Caleb remained sitting on the bed. He waited until Dean's breathing evened out into a slumber, and sent him dreams of baseball and Becca Hensen. Everyone needed their dreams.

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

Home



Uploaded by Majs