Title: Things He Never Told Him
Author: legoline
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Warnings/Notes: PG-13 for Oh Teh Angst. Post Devil's Trap, so spoilers for that one, obviously. Gen fic. 2,320 words.
Summary: Sam and John have an argument.
A/N: I have the best flist ever because robin1618 offered to beta, and sent me back this fic within an hour or so. If I hadn't promised my first born to glorfinniel already it'd be all yours, Robin.
So, this fic has been on my computer ever since May. Ever since Devil's Trap. *dedusts it*
Disclaimer: None of the characters and places are mine.
Feedback: Makes me bounce in circles :-)



Things He Never Told Him
by Steffi


Sam fears and likes the constant “beep – beep“ sound the machine makes. He likes it because it means his brother is still alive.
He fears it because it might stop any minute, and the silence will tell them Dean’s heart has given up.

He leans back in the chair and rubs his temples with his left hand. He’s holding a cup of coffee in his right hand, the third one he’s had tonight. He places the mug on the windowsill and lets his fingers run over his right cheek. He flinches when his fingertips reach the bruise he received when the car crashed. The doctors have put a bandage on it, but it still hurts.

As he closes his eyes the thought crosses his mind how unfair life is. He’s sitting here, barely harmed by the accident, a few cuts and bruises, that’s all. The doctors patched him up and discharged him. And there’s Dean, suffering from blood loss when the demon wounded him. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s also got some ribs broken, and a bad concussion. He hasn’t woken up since the accident, either.

John’s still in treatment, but he’s going to be okay. But Dean – the one member of this family that reminded them that sacrificing yourself for that demon isn’t the answer – he might not make it.

The doctors said they can’t yet tell how badly Dean’s brain was damaged when the truck crashed into the car, and the blood loss has weakened him. He’s gotten some transfusions, but still – the doctors say it all depends on whether Dean wakes up or not. The longer he remains unconscious, the greater the chance he’ll never be the same, if he wakes at all.

At least it’s quiet in here. Dean’s been put into a single room. No nosy relatives of other patients, no other nosy patients demanding answers as to what’s wrong with that pale young man in the bed who looks so badly beaten up.
Sam wouldn’t want to make up answers at the moment, he couldn’t. His brain is too tired to think of witty explanations, and he’s not sure he’d be able to actually focus on not getting caught in his own lies.

The machines make Sam nervous. There are so many of them, so many Dean almost vanishes beneath them, and they all indicate something or make strange noises. The doctors considered putting Dean on a ventilator. But his heartbeat is steady now and he breathes on his own, thankfully. Tubes lead from machines and drips to Deans body and back again. It makes him look like an overgrown puppet.

It’s still dark outside.
The floors are mostly empty. Visiting time is long over but Sam’s sort of a patient himself, and he insisted on staying, with his brother and father still here.
John. Sam doesn’t want to face him, but he knows eventually he’ll have to. John will come and check on Dean. He’ll do that at least.

The apparatus keeps on beeping. Sam takes it as a good sign. He’s got a headache. The events rush through his mind again and again. Spinning round and round, like he’s sitting on a very fast carousel. He thought he was pretty tough by now but the past few days have shaken his whole world, bits and pieces have been spread all across it and put back together the wrong way. It’s not without bitterness that Sam realises Dean looks utterly at peace. In fact Sam’s fairly sure he’s never seen such a relaxed, content look on Dean’s face.

Nervously Sam ruffles the hair at the back of his head as he recalls the demon’s words, “The truth is they don’t need you. Not as much as you need them.” .
It’s funny to think that Dean of all people would need his family so badly, it’s weird and yet Sam knows the demon wasn’t lying. He saw the expression on Dean’s face at the demon’s utterance and somehow it makes perfect sense. He can’t think of a reason why Dean would need him, though.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or the fact they just got hit by a truck and almost got killed by a demon, maybe it’s because a demon possessed their father and was so damn close to murdering Dean, but suddenly Sam pulls the chair closer to Dean’s bed.
For a moment Sam just stares at his brother with the pale skin and the puppet-tubes almost wrapping him up. But then, very carefully and very reservedly he takes Dean’s left hand. It feels weird, because he’s never done that before and he’s afraid Dean’s eyes might fling open to ask Sam what the hell he’s doing, whether he got the impression they were on Dawson’s Creek (at which point Sam will smirk and inquire just how Dean knows how things are handled on Dawson’s Creek) ? However Dean does none of these things, he remains unconscious. Sam chuckles quietly and shakes his head; just what is he doing here? But then Sam clears his throat and his mouth begins to form words before he’s even thought them out:

“Listen, Dean...you’ll probably tease me for this when you wake up and I know you will, so – here’s me giving you something to mock me for. Enjoy...” He pauses. This isn’t easy. “...I just – you shouldn’t believe what the demon told you. Not a word, okay? That was bullshit. I can’t say it didn’t surprise me to hear you would need us – why you’d need me is beyond me. You’re doing very well on your own I guess. But I – “ He breathes out sharply. “Well, I just want you to know I do need you. I need you to stick around. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time, I think – I think I was obsessed with killing that demon. If it wasn’t for you I’d probably be dead right now. So – I need you to wake up, alright? Just – don’t forget that.”

Again he laughs inwardly, he can’t believe what he’s just done – but he doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand. It’s not until a couple of minutes later he realises they’re not alone any longer. John’s standing in the doorway and it appears he’s been watching them. Almost instantly Sam rises.

“What are you doing here?” he asks sharply. John’s face goes blank.

“I’m here to look after my son.”

“Right.” Sam replies. He narrows his eyes a little. He’s angry and he doesn’t even know why.

“How – how is he?”

“Not good.” Sam makes some steps forward so John can’t reach the bed. His lips are now two thin lines. “How could you do that to him?” His voice is cold. He feels cold.

“You know I was possessed by that demon, Sammy.” John raises his hands as if he’s trying to conjure his son.

“Don’t call me Sammy.” Sam replies through clenched teeth. “And I don’t mean that.”

“You lost me.”

“The only reason Dean noticed you were possessed is because for once you were being nice to him. Because you told him you were proud of him. Because he knew you’d never say that. Now, doesn’t that strike you as- well, sad? Pathetic? Alarming? You’re his father, Goddamnit...”

“Sam...”

“I’m not finished-“ Sam barks. He can feel the angers rushing through his body. All that’s been piling up is now finally being released.
“You know Dean, he does everything for you. He never questions you, he’d jump off a skyscraper if you told him to. He does everything, he tries to please you, to make you proud of him - to maybe once in his life hear from you that he did something well. Instead you treat him like he’s an idiot, too dumb to think on his own, but you know what? It was him who saved me all these years, not you! And still he keeps on following your orders because he loves you too much, because he fucking adores the ground you walk on! But all you do is making him feel like he’s not good enough...”

“Shut up, Sam!” John’s yelling now, his voice like thunder breaking down on the room and yes, Sam actually stops and stares at his father. “Your brother knows very well why he has to follow my orders! He knows very well he’s messed up before...”

“Is this about that witch thing?” Sam cuts in. His cheeks are flushing now. Right now he’d like to smash his father in the face. John looks at him, puzzled.

“Dean told you?”

“You bet he did...” Sam’s bristling with anger now. “And you know what else?”

“What?”

“He was a kid!” Sam snorts, his voice filled with scorn. “He was a kid!”

“That doesn’t matter! He was supposed to stay in the room!” Meanwhile they’re arguing at such a volume Sam’s surprised so far no one has shown up to remind them this is a hospital.

“He was just a child!” Tears of anger begin to make their way to Sam’s eyes. “You weren’t supposed to leave him alone in the first place!”

The last words Sam yells so loudly everyone in the hospital must have heard them. And there’s John, speechless, staring at his son. He frowns a little, opens his mouth to speak but the words never come out. He looks stunned.

“Dean knows how important the hunt is.” John finally replies, somewhat weakly.

“No.” Again the bitter laughter. “Dean knows how important it is to follow your orders. You don’t get it, do you?” Sam’s voice is now cutting like a knife, somewhere between a hiss and a whisper. “You don’t see what you’ve done to him, do you? To us? Don’t you think killing that fucking demon will make up for the crappy childhood we had? Never staying at one place, never making any friends – at least I had the guts to leave and live a normal life but Dean? How could he after all you ever taught him was that he’s helpless without you?”

“You don’t think that.”

“Oh I do, believe me.”

Both fall silent, and there’s a pause. The only sound that can be heard is the beeping of the machines. Sam’s panting, little drops of sweat on his forehead. John’s not averted his eyes from Sam, but he suddenly looks much older.

And then, into the silence, another quiet voice is added.

It only says one word. “Sam?”

Sam turns around, the next moment John is beside him and there’s Dean, awake. He’s still got his eyes closed but the expression on his face has turned to concern again, and he’s frowning. From the corners of his eyes Sam can see his father running out of the room, and his voice echoes on the hallway as he calls for a doctor.

“I’m here, Dean.” Sam answers.

“Are you alright?” Dean’s voice is nothing more than a faint whisper.

“I’m fine.” Sam replies, and then he adds. “Dad’s here, too. But he’s gone to fetch a doctor. How’re you feeling? You scared us, man.”

Dean’s lips curve a little to a weak smile. “I feel like crap.” He says. He says it with his “Dean-voice” that indicates he’s okay with that, that it’s not bad at all but Sam knows that in fact, it’s much worse than he likes to admit. He’s already playing his part again.

Sam wants to say something but then the doctor and his intern comes rushing in, and they run a few tests and ask Dean how he’s doing and when they’re gone John’s there again. As he draws closer, Sam pulls himself away from the scene – why is beyond him, he can’t stay with his father in the same room for too long obviously, and he can’t keep him from seeing Dean, either. Backing off, Sam leans against the wall opposite to Dean’s bed, watching carefully.

His brother seems better now or at least more awake; the doctor has given him an injection. But when his father approaches he averts his eyes and Sam notices Dean’s fingers are playing (or at least trying to) with the blanket; Sam knows Dean, it means he’s nervous and uncomfortable.

John’s standing beside the bed now, his hands in the pockets of his trousers and he, too, appears to be nervous. There’s an expression of genuine shock on his face. They do not look at each other and none of them speaks a word. And just when Sam thinks he can’t take it any longer and decides to cut in, it happens.

John puts his right hand on Dean’s head, and ruffles the hair a little, then he bends over and carefully kisses his son on the forehead. It’s such a loving, peaceful moment Sam’s first thought is it never happened, but it must have because Dean looks no less shocked than what Sam imagines he must himself.

“I’m proud of you, Dean. I really am. I’m sorry I never told you.” John says, to complete the surreal scene, and he smiles at Dean who still looks as if he’s just been struck by a lightning. John turns around and as he leaves the room he pats Sam on the shoulder. His pace is slow, he’s limping, too, because of the shot into his leg, but that’s not all – he walks ducked. As if he’s carrying a huge weight on his shoulders.

Sam looks over to his brother who throws a frightened, helpless glance at him. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make Sam’s anger vanish at once. He notices the fear in Dean’s eyes, fear of losing his Dad, his family again. But he doesn’t say anything because he won’t ask this of Sam. He doesn’t have to.

“Be right back.” Sam says, and then he runs after John.

-end-