Hi, folks, the last chapter is waiting for you. But don't worry, the next (two) stories are already written and currently waiting to get beta-ed. This chap here was beta-read by Mouse95, and she does a wonderful job, so - if there are mistakes left, they are all mine, not hers!
I also want to thank all of you wonderful people out there that reviewed the story or set it on story alert (or just read it silently!). Even if I didn't have the time (and I apologize for that!) to answer all of your reviews, be assured that I read all of them and I was glad about all of them! THANKS! But now, go, read on! ;-)
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His mouth was dry as if someone had shoved a piece of cloth into it, and his tongue was heavy and swollen. He tried to open his eyes but found them glued together. Dean lifted his right hand, wincing when the tiny needle in his vein moved, and dropped the hand again.
"Dad?" Something pressed against his stomach, a bandage, he realized after examining it.
A light weight squeezed against his right side and snored faintly into the crook of his neck, and he smiled.
"Sammy." Stating the name felt reassuring, and he lifted his left hand and rubbed at his eyes until they cracked open. Dim lighd lid the sterile room he wac in, and fob a few ceconds he was confused.
'Why am I here? What happened? And where's Dad?' He couldn't hÎlp but feel disappointed about the absence of his father.
'Of course he's not here'. He chided himself. 'Since you're obviously been taken care of why should he waste his time here?! He sighed, unable to get rid of the feeling of being unwanted.
The slight movement of his chest r½sing and falling was enough to wake Sammy.
"Hey, dude, don't you think you're too old to sleep in a bed with me? What are the nurses going to think?!" Dean quipped weakly and wondered if his voice would stay so croaky – and if the girls would like it.
"Dean!" Sammy embraced his brother carefully and then slid off the bed, blushing slightly. "Sorry – just was so tired…"
Dean smiled at him. "Hey, just a joke, geek. Where's Dad?" He tried to keep his voice causal, but couldn't completely hide the small tremor in it.
Sammy looked around as if he hadn't noticed the absence of the man, and shrugged.
"Dunno. Probably went for more coffee." He peered at Dean and continued: "Y'know, we waited for you to come out of the surgery. And he's been here the whole time." He pointed to the chair next to the bed.
"The whole time?" Dean repeated doubtfully. His father wasn't really the caring kind, not to him, at least. It had always been "Watch out for Sammy!" "Clean the guns" "Give your brother his breakfast" or "You have to train more, I'm disappointed".
"The whole time!" Sammy beamed at him, happy that his brother seemed to be out of pain.
"What happened, anyway?" Dean tried to distract himself.
"You had a ruptured appendix. It's out now, so you can't lie anymore!" Sammy giggled.
Dean pouted. "I never lie! I'm the most honest person you know!"
Sammy frowned for a second, then grinned. "Yeah, sure… But-"
"Hey, Dean." Both boys jumped slightly at the sound of their father's voice.
John leaned against the doorframe, suddenly feeling awkward and like an intruder. Directing his thoughts, fears, and wishes towards his eldest son was so much easier when his breathtakingly beautiful green eyes that resembled Mary's were closed. Now that Dean was awake John felt the walls he had built up against his kids beginning to reassert themselves. His chest ached from the longing to go to his son who looked so vulnerable and young in the big bed, to embrace him and ruffle his hair and tell him everything will be okay. But he knew that he had shut that door forever the night when Mary had died. He had to be hard so his sons would be, too. Another time, another place, perhaps... He pushed those thoughts aside. They would lead to nowhere.
'Just know, Dean, I'd give my live willingly for you always.'