Where We Find God
By: Ridley
Chapter 2
Dean Winchester woke with a start. His heart was pounding against his sternum and sweat beaded on his forehead, sliding down his face and bare chest in rivulets when he groggily pushed himself to a seated position. With a shaking hand he explored the other side of the mattress, searching the darkness for someone he couldn‘t reach. Sam.
The squeak of the other bed proceeded the harsh light of the lamp as John swung his legs over the side of the mattress. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” Dean swallowed hard, running both his hands through his damp hair, and tried to regain control of his runaway heart.
“You okay?” John tried to adjust his eyes enough to get a good look at his son in the harsh glare. One of his hands still rested on the blade under his pillow, but his fingers relaxed as he realized the threat had come from a nightmare and not a demonic source.
“I’m good.” Dean was still breathing heavily, but he fought to pull it together. He rubbed at his eyes, which were stinging from the sudden light, and tried to erase the images of the dream he’d just had.
“You were calling out for Sam.”
Great. “Yeah,” Dean sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed that his dad had been witness to his childish subconscious fears. “You’d think I missed him or something.” Weakness wasn’t something John liked to see, especially in Dean.
“Or something.” Right. John ran a hand over his beard and sighed. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Honestly, he was kind of shaken up. Being awoken by his oldest son crying out for his kid brother wasn‘t a typical occurrence. Dean hadn’t sounded that scared in years. Dean didn’t have nightmares- not since he was a boy. That was Sam’s demon to bare. One that John hadn’t ever been able to vanquish or even help with. That was Dean’s dragon to slay.
“Sure he is,” Dean shrugged, “Must have been that fifth piece of pizza I ate. That‘s all.”
“You want to talk about it?” Please say no. He was being a coward, but John only asked because he counted on the reply.
Dean snorted. “Who are you and what have you done with my father?” In his entire life he wasn’t sure if his dad had ever asked him that.
That was the one he banked on. John shook his head. “Forget I asked.” Please.
Dean looked at the empty spot beside of him again. “It’s just I’m not use to Sam not being with us when we’re on the road.”
“You mean where you can keep an eye on him.” John could understand that burden-hell-he’d help create it.
“Yeah.”
John leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. Damn it. He’d opened the can of worms, he might as well through the line in. “You can’t watch him all the time, you know.”
“Funny-that’s not what my dad said.”
The oldest Winchester rolled his eyes, really to tired to argue. “I know I expected you to keep an eye on Sam when he was a kid, Dean, but…”
Dean looked at the man as if he had just slapped him. If felt like he had. “But what, Contradictory.” He laughed bitterly. “You chewed my ass out for losing sight of him for about two minutes on that hunt just last month. Did Sammy become a grown up in the last few weeks?”
John looked down at the floor, biting his lip to stop his first reply. Finally, he looked up at Dean again. “That was a dangerous situation.”
“Trust me, I know how dangerous it was.”
The older hunter sighed.
Believe it or not, sometimes, John felt on steadier footing with Sam. His youngest son was always honest about how he felt about just about everything-especially their lifestyle. Dean on the other hand could be like a damn mirrored puzzle box. He was never sure, if the side he was looking at was Dean or a reflection of what Dean wanted him to see. And he sure as hell didn’t know how to get him to open up. Maybe he didn’t want to know.
“Then you understand why I was upset. You’re brother doesn’t always pay attention when we’re working.”
But you still keep making him do it. “I got it.”
Okay, that went well. So much for listening to Oprah. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll need you sharp tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Dean laid back down as his dad turned the light off. He tried to close his eyes but the sight of Sam in a coffin kept playing in his mind. He sighed, punched his pillow a few times and tried to get comfortable.
“You could call him, you know.” John didn’t think either of them was going to get any sleep until Dean heard his brother’s voice.
“I’ll never hear the end of it if I do.” Sam didn't like to be coddled-or watched after.
“Tell him I told you to do it.” John was good at being the bad guy. “I wanted to make sure he made curfew.”
Dean looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was after eleven. “Well, if you really need to know, Dad.”
John turned the light back on and Dean grabbed the phone, giving his dad a half-hearted version of his cocky grin. “Control freak,” he muttered as he dialed their number.
The older hunter decided a trip to the bathroom was called for since he was already awake, and besides he’d give Dean some privacy to diss him to his little brother.
When he returned he expected to find Dean laughing about something at his expense, but what he found was his son shrugging into his sweatshirt-already having donned his jeans and shoes.
“Dean- what the hell are you doing?”
“Going home.”
“What? Why? Did you talk to your brother?” A slow panic started to build somewhere deep in John’s gut.
“He didn’t answer,” Dean explained, in a detached, calm way that sent chills down his father’s spine.
“Son, he could have gone out.”
Dean looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “You told him by eleven. Sam would have been home by eleven.” Sam was the responsible one, after all. “I tried his cell too.”
“He could be asleep.”
Dean grabbed his pack and shook his head. He wasn’t sure why his dad was determined to play Devil’s advocate all of a sudden. Sometimes he and Sam were so much a like that it was scary. “Something’s wrong. I know it.” I feel it.
“We have a job to do tomorrow,” John reminded him.
Dean’s green eyes met and held his father’s dark gaze. He would do anything the man told him to do, but this. “I have a job to do now.”
John shook his head, ready to draw the proverbial line in the sand when the ringing of his cell phone brought him up short.
Both hunters shared a look, and a shadow of fear passed in his son’s eyes, propelling John to nearly lunge for the phone. “Winchester.”
“John?”
“Yeah.”
“John, this is Marty Collins.”
John glanced at Dean and then sat down on the bed. Marty Collins ran the wrecker service that was based out of the garage that John worked for in Morgana. They were both near the same age and had become decent poker and drinking buddies in the four months since he and his family had settled there. Still, they weren't the kind of friends who called one another up to chat.
“What’s going on, Marty?”
“I hate to call like this, man, but I was just called out to a pretty bad wreck out on Holly- you know the old beach access road.”
“I know it.” John could feel his heart starting to speed up, he could feel Dean’s gaze on him, but he refused to look at the boy.
“Sam’s here.”
Oh, God. “How bad?”
“I don’t know, John. They still don’t have him out of the car. He and another kid. They were in the back of Jeff Wilkerson‘s sport‘s car. They‘re bringing in the Jaws as we speak.”
Damn it. It took a moment for John to force the words to actually form a sentence. “Is he alive?”
“Dad?” Dean dropped to his knees in front of the older man.
John finally looked at his son, knowing he wouldn’t have to say anything once the boy got a glance of his face. “Marty, I asked you if he was alive?” He watched as Dean visibly paled.
“Hold on.”
John could here mumbled voices in the background. His heart threatened to break free from his chest as he heard someone say that one boy was gone. Please don’t let it be my boy. A lifetime seemed to pass in a breath of a moment.
As from a great distance, he heard Marty ask which one, and a wave of relief rushed over him as he heard someone answer the McGhee kid. Poor bastard.
“John- Sam’s still hanging in there. I won’t lie to you, it don’t look good. But he’s alive.”
“I’ll be there in a few hours.” He looked away from Dean. “Will you stay with him, Marty? I don’t want him to be alone.” It wasn’t like the Winchesters had made any close friends, there was no next of kin that wasn’t 200 miles away in theirtiny motel room.
“I’ll stay with him, buddy, and see you at Mercy when you get there.”
“Thank you.”
“And John-I thought you’d want to know... I know I would.”
John swallowed hard, trying to keep his dinner down. “What?”
“One of the paramedics said the boys were all wasted. The Wilkerson kid was flying. He and Brett Miller’s boy are already in route to the hospital. They walked away from the crash.”
John clenched his fists, not able to control the anger that rushed through him. Not sureof who he was angry at.“I’ll see you at the hospital, Marty.”
“Sure thing, John. I’m sorry, man.”
So was John. He hit the end button and got slowly to his feet. He was sorry he’d left Sam alone. Sorry he’d not paid closer attention to he was haning out with. And sorry that he was apparently one sorry excuse for a father.
“What?” Dean slowly pushed himself up from the floor, his eyes searching his father’s face. “What’s wrong with Sammy?” I knew something was wrong. I should never have left him alone.
“There’s been an accident- but he‘s alive.”
The first thought that went through Dean’s mind was a fire. Something had come for Sam and his world had just been consumed in a rush of flames for a second time. “What? What kind of accident?”
“Dean, it was a car accident.” He didn’t have time to play twenty questions, damn it.
John raked a hand through his hair, turning to grab his clothes from the chair where he’d discarded them only a few hours before. “Marty said it was bad. They still don’t have Sam out of the car yet.”
Dean caught his arm and stopped him. It was weird the things that would pop into a person‘s mind as their life tried to fall in around them. “Sam doesn’t have a car, Dad.”
“Jeff does.” John pulled away from the younger man and tugged his jeans over his legs.
“Jeff?” The dislike was easily distinguishable as Dean practically spat the name out. “That idiot from Sam’s school? The jock?”
John pulled his shirt over his head, and tried to keep his mind off what Sam may be going through. “Yes.” He didn’t mean for the rest to come out, didn’t want to say things that weren’t necessary -that were trivial compared to the fact that Sam was alive-but… “He was drunk.”
“Sam?” Dean couldn’t believe that-wouldn’t believe that. His brother was no saint, but he wasn’t into the party scene either. He shook his head. “No way!”
John shrugged. “All of them, apparently.”
“Wilkerson was drinking and driving?” With my little brother in the car? “I’ll kill him.”
The older hunter didn’t even acknowledge the threat. He grabbed his bag and the car keys. “We need to get home. Now, Dean.”
No shit. We shouldn't have ever left.“Did Marty say how bad Sam was?”
John snapped. “Damn it, Dean! The man drives a fucking wrecker-he’s not a doctor.”
That meant it was bad. Dean felt the panic rising. He was 200 miles away and Sam was in danger-hurt-maybe dying. There was nothing he could do. His baby brother was in pain and he couldn’t protect him from it. Sam might die before he even reached him.
Strong hands clasped his shoulder and his father gave him a hard shake. “Don’t lose it now, Dean. I need you to suck it up. Do you here me?” John considered slapping the other man, but knew another way to bring him around quicker. “Your brother needs you to be strong, Dean. Do you hear me? Sam needs you.”
Green eyes cleared instantly and his son nodded. “I know.” And I wasn’t there.
John sighed, lifting his hand from the younger man’s shoulder and letting it rest on Dean’s head for a moment. “Let’s go then.”
Dean watched his father step back from him and pick up both their bags and start for the door. He looked around the empty hotel room, and fought back the urge to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over his head to hide.
That’s what he use to do when Sam was a baby. He’d hide both of them under the magical blankets, so no monster could ever find them again. Dean had always kept them both safe. It’d always worked before.
But Dean had let his guard down. And someone was going to pay.
Dean-for sure.
Sammy-probably- even though Dean would have died to prevent it from happening.
And Jeff Wilkerson-definitely-even though Dean would have to go to
jail to make it happen.