Good Things Do Happen, Dean Winchester Prt. 5

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is part 5

Submitted: April 07, 2012

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Submitted: April 07, 2012

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Sam kicked his feet against rocks in the road, sighing with releif when he seen the lights of chuck's old, odd hous flicker on before the door that slowly creaked its way open.

"Hey, Chuck." Sam warmly said, feeling his eyes burn from tears.

"Sam." Chuck fiddled with a bottle that was covered with a brown back as he let Sam enter, shutting the creaking door slowly.He opend it, popping the cork off with no heasitation.

"Drinking again?" Sam chuckled.

"Dean wasn't supposed to die." Chuck gulped down the alcohol, blinking and sitting down, frantically tapping his foot and rubbing his temples slowly.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sure Gabriel is the one that brought on the hell hounds, not Victor." Sam sat in front of Chuck, squinting, holding a hand out for the bottle. Chuck heasitantly handed it to him. Sam noticed a slight shaking in Chucks arm.

"Victor? Gabriel? Who are these people? Look, all I know is that when I Dreamed last night, Dean was in hell, but how? After all these people he helped?" Chuck whined, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "Then there was this bright preasence. Too stong for human eyes, even mine couldn't handle." He grabbed the bottle from Sam slowly, chuging a big lot of the bottle.

"Slow down there cowboy, we don't want you drunk." Sam laughed slightly, falling back into the couch, closing his eyes. Chuck solemly nodded, settign the bottle down.

"why did you come, Sam? " Chuck softly asked, watching him loung back into the chair, propping a leg up on the arm rest, hoding a hand behind his head.

"I don't want to be found by Bobby, the last place he would look is here, can I please have a place to stay for a bit?" Sam asked, peaking through one eye.

"Yes, it's no trouble for a good friend." Chuck bobbed his head down once and stood back up, walking slowly upstairs to his room, smiling, knowing that he would be safe with one of the winchesters around.

He got a good nights rest that night, and he didn't dream of Dean, or Castiel, or anything else, he was safe and he hand virtually nothing to worrie about. Everything would turn out.

CHAPTER 12

He choked out for breath, dark surrounding him everywhere. He was laying down, which made somekind of scense.

"Hello? "His voice sounded rough and dry from no water in months. It was almost like there was no voice at all, just whisper. He choked slightly on the lack of air wherever he was, pulling out his lighter, flicking it on first try. Wood surrounded him, it hit him. Coffin, he was in a Coffin. He scrame out. His voice only raspy and squeeking like a dried out and old squeek toy. He tryed to push the top away, geting nothing, untill he pushed with all of his streangth, breaking the barrier between air and dirt. Loads piled on top of him, burrying him compleatally. He dropped his lighter, using his hands to cover his face, beginning to dig up, knowing it would take a while to get out.

The Sun was hot and the sky was cloudy. It was hot. Some would say so hot that if you looked close enough, you could see the heat waves swaying through the air.

A cross, simple and wooden, heald together by only one small nail, pushed into the ground angrily. Old yellow grass had already blended in the loose dirt with the surroundings. The only way you could actually see the evedance of the dead man was that fraying wood cross.

The dirt began to move, and shift on the ground in one spot, untill two cut up hands rose, pushing the ground away and pullling up with all the streangth the had. A fain scream rose from the ground, the hands growing into forearms, then into long, pulling, desparate arms. Then a head, simple human head, grunting from lack of air.

"Sammy!" He scrame, pulling himself out, gasping for air. The sun angrily hit him wiht it't head, almost taunting him. His Eyes squinted from the long lost light. "Bobby?!" He yelled out, looking around, noticing something odd. No trees. The cross creaked behind him, causing a wince. He looked back, seeing a sad, angrily written name. Two words, that were so fimiliar. Dean Winchester. Of course, he knew who he was, who his family, friends, and his last torture. Slowly, Dean stood, swooning, his legs almost giving out, but they didn't.

He looked around, seeing the trees gone, as if they were ripped from the ground, or blown over. The only thing that didn't make scence around here was, well, how was he alive? Hell if he knew, but that wasn't something to worrie about right now. He needed to rehidrate, before he died again.

Kicking rocks was no fun as he made his way to a small building that hopefully, he could find something of a help for his aching body.

It was empty, no one was there, but there was still stock. There was a mirror, a sink. It was a small market, that had enough ingrediance to provied for Dean.

The water seaped though his bones, his throat undrying. He could talk again.

"Hello?" He yelled, but got no reply. Shaking his head, he slowly approached the mirror, lookign at his dirty body. Cut up from the rocks that jabbed him everywhere. Even if he could have been alive, he should have been torn up from the hell hounds, the claws and missed shots from Bobby and his brother.

The shape he was in now, the long scratches, the bruises. This could be a one way ticket for a fake car wreck. He could easily check himself into a hospitle. He would be safe there for that moment, but he wouldn't be just as easily torn away from the fact that he had risen from Hell and did not know exactly how. He would figure out though. He would find Sam and they would figure out as a team again.

His shirt lifted, no sign of being eaten to a bloody slop. He was living, and human, as far as he knew, but his shoulders stung, so bad. He assumed it was the rocks doing and lef tthe mirror, grabbing a bag and the jean jaket around his waist, pulling it onto his shoulders as he grabbed a few water bottles and some food off a random shelf.

Wonering what day it was, he picked up a recent news paper, searching for the date.

"September...." He murmerd. Five months? Five months he was stuck in that pit, begging for his freedom. He couldn't help but wonder what could have such a heart to pull him willingly from hell, and it hit him. Sam made a deal, with a demon. It was the only way, nothing else could have happend....But there was one thing he was forgetting. The prophosie. "Damnit, Sam." he grunted, throwing the paper down roughly, gritting his teeth angrily. Unconciously, he looked to the cash regester, he didn't have any money, ad no one was around, so why not?

"I'm Dean fucking Winchester, I can do what I want." He set down his bag of goods and opend the regester, grabbing his money and looking around to see if there was cars around that he could leav this place with, just so he didn't have to walk...and of course, there was an old car, hopefully working. shoving the money into his poket, he grabbed his items, runnign to the car, sighing in releife when the keys were in the ignition.

Gas couldn't be a huge problem, he was at a gas station, so there was nothing to worrie about now. With a cockey smirk, he shoved himself into the car, revving it up and pulling away, suprised to see the amount of gas not low. It would be just enough to get him to the hospitle in time.

/-/

"Mister Winchester, I have your meds for you." A polite nurse enterd the plain white room with a platter, holding Medecation for hilusinations, anger, and just plain out crazyness. She set it down on the end table by the man that woke up, startled.

"Who are you, where am I, where is my brother." He asked, his eyes flickering around the room.

"It's alright, take your medacation, you will calm, I promise." She handed him a glass and three different types of pills. "Drink them down."

"Screw You, take me to my brother you sonofabitch." He slapped the pills out of the ladies hand, getting up to his feet.

"We talked about this, Dean isn't real, He isn't your brother, and monsters are not real." The nurse grimmaced, biting her lip angrily, grabbing more pills.

"No, No my brother is real and he will come back and kill you, you dirty lying demon." Sam pushed the lady against the wall, looking into her eyes, going to grab for his knife, but not feeling it anywhere.

"Sam, get back in bed." She struggled to get away, her brow furrowing. "We have to get you medecated before you kill one of us again, after all, we are just trying to help." She blinked, her eyes flicking back.

"Help Someone help me! She is going to kill me!" Sam scrame out the door, seeing no one in sight.

"They think you're crazy, Sam. I said.." She huffed in, pushing him back with dramatic streangth, shoving him onto the bed, grabbing a handfull of pills and shoving them into his mouth, forcing him to swallow. Sam closed his eyes, biting her hand angily, taisting blood.

"Oh, Sammy, don't be so crule." she smiled, standing from the edge of his bad and slowly walking away. "No one will beleive you, whats the point?" She smiled softly, walking out of the room, leaving sam alone again. Sam shook his head, looking down to his white clothes, tearign up slightly.

"Hurry up, Dean, I can feel you." He whimpered, closing his eyes back up, falling asleep slightly.

/-/

"Ma'am, i'd like to check myself in, I'm torn up, no one came to my calls, I had to walk, I got in a car crash a few miles out, it was only me, but i think my arm is broken." Dena heald his arm, faking his pain as he grunted, looking at the counter woman who rolled her eyes.

"First and Last Name." she huffed. Dean could tell how much she didn't like this job.

"Dean Winchester." He groaned, biting his lip as he faked pain that 'killed him inside'.

"Winchester." The lady hummed. "Names fimiliar, do you have a brother?" She cocked her head, looking up to him softly. Dean shot a worried look at her, nodding. She typed in something on her computer, looking down, furrowing her brow. "He go by the name of Sam?" Dean squinted.

"who are you?" He asked.

"Someone that knows whats going on." She looked at him. "Follow me, i'll take you to him."

Dean stopped his faking his pain, watching the woman pull herself out of the chair and walking to the elevator. He shook out of his daze and jogged to her, snaking into the elevator by her side.

"Name, please." Dean huffed, crossing his arms as she pushed the fifth floor.

"Genn." She replied, watching the doors shut.

"How do you know me."

"I knew your father."

"My father is...dead..." Dean choked, looking at Genn with anger, biting his bottom lip.

"Yeah, i know that, wernt you a teacher?"

"Things didnt work out." Dean though of long lost Casitel. He instantly missed him. His insides tingled, knotting slightly at the though of loosing someone so oddly close.

"What happed?" they both ignored the slight 'ding' every time the got closer to floor five.

"A Student. A very...." Dean held his breath for a moment, closing his eyes. "A very.." clumbsy, wise, beautiful, amasing. "Idiotic student.." He said.

"Well, sorry to hear that." the final ding rang loudly. louder than the others. The doors began to open slowly. No one was in the halls.

"Well, this is weird. You'd think there would be more people." Dean grunted, walking out of the elevator and into the hallway, looking into one of the windows. A man was curled up, his knees to his chest as he looked out the window, sucking on his thumb. Chills ran up Dean's spine. His head turned to another window, seeing a young woman, coloring in a drawing pan. It looked like scribbles of different colors, which, to Dean, made no scence, untill he looked into the last window. Two young boys, playing patty-cake, one drooling and one looking off into space. A tall blonde woman softly watched the two, tears streaming down her face slowly. She was sad.

"Those two boys beleive that if they don't quit doing that hand manoover, they will blow up liek stars." Genn stood behind Dean, looking into the window, shaking her head. "Too bad, really, they had a long life ahead of them, you know." she let out a long, sad filled sigh.

"Are you telling me, that my own brother is in the mental hospitle?" Dean turned angrily, trying to keep his voice low.

"By no means, it's a demon trapping here, i'm afrade to speak up because of the fact that i could be thrown in here." Genn pointed at a door. "He was just forced to choke down more meds, so he will be a little....loopy."

Dean ignored her and bardged into the door, seeing his helpless brother laying on the bed like a sloppy sack, stairing at the ceiling oddly.

"Sammy?" He asked. Sam squinted, looking over.

"Dean, you're dead." He giggled softly, cocking his head.

"Not anymore, Sammy, I'm alive, and you wont beleive me later, but right now, you have no idea whats going on." Dean shrugged.

"Hey, hey, hey...Dean it's okay." Sam cooed, gesturing for Dean to come closer. He did as asked and came to the side of Sam's bed, bending over slightly. "You know why?" Sam asked, gripping Dean's shoulder.

"No..." He stiffend. "Why."

"Because you're my brother. And I will always love ya." Sam squeezed his shoulder, lookingdeeply into his eyes, serious about those words. Too serious. Sam brought his finger to Dean's nose, poking it slightly. "Boop!" He laughed, pulling his hand away slowly, smiling so wide you couldsee his teeth. Dean fround, biting the inside of his cheek, titling his head and taking a big breath in.

"Come on, we are getting you home." Dean pulled Sam into his arms, grunting at the overwhelming weight it put on his sore feet and legs.

"My nurse will think this is so bad. You are a naughty Dean." Sam winced slightly, beginning to cough.

"Shut up, idiot." Dean pushed sam out of the door, facing twards the stairs, jogging as quick as he could.

"Dean! Where are you going?" Genn called.

"Bobbies, feel free to follow." Dean ran faster, hitting the stairs, moving down them quickly. Sam grimmaced.

"Dean, can i ask you a question?" Sam tilted his chin up, biting his lip and the angry, concentrating Dean as they dashed down stairs. Dean nodded slightly. "Is this a dream?"

"No, this is real." Dean finally set foot on the first floor, running through the doors. That was easy. Genn said there was a demon on that floor, looking over Sam, so how did they get out so simple. It was far to easy.

Dean set Sam inot the old car he drove here, rushing to the drivers side, buckeling sam in, revving the car on. Sam laughed at the noise he had long forgotten and settled into his seat, looking over to Dean, gawking at him.

"Dean?" He asked, his eye lids becoming heavy.

"Yes?" Dean asked, driving down the road.

"You are alive."

"Yeah i know, i'll explain when you can think right, just go to sleep, you'll wake up at Bobby's." Dean staired at the road, biting his lip.

"Bobby!!" Sam blurted, looking out his window exited. "I havn't seen him in ages, I ran away from him, Dean, I knew he couldn't help me with my plans." Sam pouted, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep. Dean shook his head, think back to the hospitle. Something had to be protecting him, something had to rise him, somethin powerful and riteous. Being that the only person he could think of was Castiel, he smiled, and looked up to the sky softly.

"Thanks, Cas." He nodded, looking back at the empty road, his eyes glistening as he let out a long sigh, looking to his brother quickly, furrowing his brow. He began to wonder about his brother and how exactly he got pulled into that trap. He would have to ask when everything calmed. It wasn't that important now. All Dean wasnted now was to get to Bobby and trying to explain to him that he was the actual Dean. It might take time, but hopefully, everything will go right.

CHAPTER 14

The sky around him was so....bright, and moving. Litterally, it was moving. So much that it made him feel dizzy, almost unable to stand. He wasn't alone though, he was with a short, cockly girl that staired at him wiht big brown eyes. Dean knew this girl from his three years of teaching. He had a class with her, and it was almost stomach turning to see her standing before him.

"You think that your little munchkin could just kill me with his soul, Dean?" Meg stepped closer. Dean's Jaw tightend as he staired down at her, anger flooding through his face clearly. "It only let us get closer." She softly poked his chest, giggeling at his anger. "It only made you weaker." She smirked. Dean clentched his fists..tight.

"Stop this right now." Dean hissed, stepping back, fighting the urdge to push her away.

"Did you really think he could kill me?" Meg snarled.

"You are not Megan, leave my preasence." He ached to just snap her neck. It seemed so easy.

"Was he really that strong?" She huffed, turning back, laughing. Meg slowly kicked the beautiful almost glowing green grass. Dean gagged at the movement he felt, the dizzyness. He felt it come tumbling down when Meg turned back around on her heel to face him, watching as he feel to the floor, holding his stomach.

"No, he wasn't, but now he is." A voice said. Meg jumped, narrowing her eyes, freezing straight in her tracks. The voice was not Dean, it was not Sam. Meg jumped to her scences, running, fast, past dean and through the trees. Untill, in fact, she ran into something still, and it wasnt a tree. "I don't think running is going to help you." The man pressed his palm to the girls head. Light stuck through her mouth and her eyes as she became limp, hitting the floor.

Dean slowly stood, the spinning coming to a hault as he regained his thoughts.

"Dean." A flat, deep wonderfully fimiliar voice said to him.

"Castiel?" His eyes lgihtend up as he ran to Castiel, grabbing him hard in his arms, balling the tan trench coat in his hands.

"Dean? Dean are you still sleeping?" Castiel narrowed his eyes, taking in the embrace.

"No, Cas, I'm righ here." Dean whispered, kissing Castiel's neck softly.

"Dean!" He shouted, pushing Dean away angrily, shoving his shoulder hard. "Dean, you ass! Wake the hell up!"

Dean looked at him in horrer. His hopes shattered as he opend his eyes to see his brother standing there, confusion and anger all over his face.

"Dean? Is that really you?" Sam asked, tilting his head, gripping a silver knife in his hands.

"Sam? Do you remember last night at all?" Dean asked, sitting up, groaning as he yawned, rubbing the sleepyness from his eyes slowly.

"No, I just remember waking up, freaking out, splashing holy water on you. I told Bobby and we checked you, all that we know about shape shifters, demons, Dean! It's really you!" Sam teared up, dropping the slightly bloody knife. Dean slowly stood.

"Nice observation, Scooby-Doo." Dean chuckled, opening his eyes fully to see his almost crying brother. "What?"

Sam pulled Dean into a big brotherly bear hug. "Dean, you were gone nearly six months." Sam said into Dean's neck, squeezing him slightly and pulling away. "Then you just...come back?"

"Wait...." Dean's brow furrowed. "You didn't....."

"I didn't what Dean."

"You didn't make some deal with a bad ass demon to pull me out." Dean raised his voice.

"No Dean, okay? I tryed, but no demon woul dleave me with a soul, i wasn't giving mine away." Sam shook his head, shrugging slightly.

"Then what the hell pulled he out?" Dean heald his arms out.

"How should I know!" Sam asked, turning to see Bobby.


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