Well, here it is . . . the last part. Thank you again to everyone for sticking with the story to this point. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it!
Hugs,
DF :-)
Part 9: Morning
Dean groaned as the pounding in his head made itself known. A dull throbbing rushed in his ears, blocking out all other sound. He would have been content to simply remain sprawled out in misery had it not been for the sudden realisation that he was not in his bed. Dean opened his eyes, cursing as he realised it was daylight and he was outside. Remembering where he was and why, the hunter rolled onto his knees, cursing again as his back practically screamed in agony where the glow-demon had clawed him. Dean ignored the pain as he caught sight of Sam.
His brother was unmoving, lying on his back nearby with dried blood flaking on his face. Dean half-crawled his way over to Sam and anxiously checked for a pulse. Finding the strong, steady thump alleviated most of Dean's fear.
He took a moment to glance around, searching the trees for any indication that the glow-demon was still in the area. The forest was quiet, save for a few birds hopping about in the branches overhead.
"I guess that's a good sign," Dean muttered to himself. If birds were already coming back to the area, the creature's presence was probably no longer palpable.
Dean turned back to his brother, shaking the younger man gently but firmly in an attempt to wake him. "Okay, Sammy. Time to wake up."
The younger Winchester didn't move and Dean bit back his sudden concern that they had failed. He could only hope the original objective in the hunt had been successful. The fact that they were both still alive and there was no sign of the glow-demon seemed to indicate that Sam had succeeded in killing it, but Dean had no idea if the visions had successfully travelled back into his brother.
They would have to deal with that problem later.
"Come on," Dean said as he shook Sam again. "You can't sleep all day."
Finally heeding his brother's words, Sam opened his eyes with a groan. He stared blankly at Dean for a moment before full consciousness returned with a jolt. Sam sat up quickly, cursing at his own stupidity when dizziness washed over him.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked as he got the vertigo under control. "Did we get the demon?"
Dean let a small smile cross his face. "I think so. I mean, we're still alive, right?"
Sam smiled back at him before his eyes grew wide with concern. "You're bleeding!"
Following Sam's gaze, Dean noted that blood still oozed from the deep gashes in his arm. As though they had been waiting for Dean to realise he was still bleeding, the gashes began to throb.
"That's just great," Dean muttered. "It didn't hurt until you pointed them out to me!"
Sam grinned. "Sorry."
"You look like you're feeling better," Dean noted with a certain amount of relief. There was no fresh blood on Sam's face, merely the remnants from the previous night, and the lethargy that had plagued the younger hunter seemed to have disappeared.
"I do feel better." Sam sounded surprised at the realisation. "Do you think it worked?"
Dean kept his expression completely neutral. "One way to find out . . . have a vision, Psychic Wonder."
"I'll get right on that, jerk." Sam couldn't fully hide his smile at his brother's words.
"Come on," Dean grinned, holding out a hand to help his brother to his feet. "Let's get the hell out of this forest."
Two days passed in relative peace and tranquillity as both brothers recuperated in the motel. Sam had stitched Dean's arm and some of the deeper cuts on his back. Things were looking better for the two men. Dean had not demonstrated any further telekinetic ability and Sam had not suffered any more nosebleeds. It wasn't conclusive proof that they had succeeded, but they were taking both facts as good signs.
Dean sat on the end of his bed and stared at the television in disgust. "You'd think if I was going to screw up the TV, I'd at least make it stick on a channel with something interesting. God, I hate the Home Shopping Network."
With barely a glance at Dean, Sam continued his conversation with Caleb. He had called the older man several times in the past two days, helping the researcher to update the file on the glow-demon in case someone else came across one.
Hearing Sam end the call, Dean clicked off the TV and turned to his brother. Sam was smirking. Never a good sign. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Sam answered quickly. "Just thinking about how destructive you were with telekinesis. You do realise we're going to have to pay a fortune in damages when we leave this motel, right?"
Dean shrugged. "Yet another credit card that will never be used again. Could be worse." He got up and moved over to the television set with a determined expression on his face.
"Yes, it could," Sam replied with a nod. It could have been a lot worse. He knew just how close it had been for both of them. Sam suppressed a shudder. His brother could have died horribly, having his soul sucked out of his body, but Dean hadn't even hesitated; he just kept going, even when it seemed that the plan was impossible to pull off.
While he wanted to tell Dean how much he appreciated what the older man had done, Sam knew that thanking Dean would only make his brother uncomfortable. He'd just have to buy him a bag of M&Ms later. Dean would be quite happy with that arrangement and no emotional displays would be required.
Glancing over at the man in question, Sam grinned as he watched his brother try to fix the TV. The elder Winchester was staring intently into the panel he'd managed to open.
His concentration reminded Sam of something . . .
"So, Dean," he began lightly. "Back at the hospital you said nothing had happened."
Dean paused. "That's right." He glanced back at Sam with an almost guilty expression. "Why do you ask?"
"When we were leaving, I heard some people talking about the cafeteria," Sam fought to keep his expression neutral. "They said something about bent spoons?"
"Really?" Dean was good at masking his reactions, but Sam was watching intently. A slight blush had coloured Dean's cheeks and Sam had his answer.
"My brother's a spoon bender!" He didn't hold back his laughter any longer.
"Shut up! I am not!" Dean protested.
"Yes, you are! If you bend spoons with your mind, you're a spoon bender, you freak!"
Dean hid his smile as he pretended to be annoyed with Sam. Really, what else could he do? He had bent the cutlery and Sam knew it. Freaks or not, this was a close to normal as things ever got for the Winchesters and the brothers intended to enjoy it.
The End