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01x12 (part 1)

Season One Episode Twelve: Faith

A/N: Alright, a quick note. my computer is effed up. The updates may start to slow down unfortunately until I can figure out how to fix this mess but they’ll still come, I promise. I love hearing from you guys, so please keep the feedback coming! Let me know of any ideas you guys have for future episodes, storylines, ect and as always, please REBLOG if you enjoyed.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: a hunt gone wrong, hospital beds, and another call to John.

`“What do you have those amped up to?” Sam asked as Dean rummaged through his trunk for the taser guns.

“100,000 volts,” Dean grinned, handing one to you and Sam and taking one for himself.

“Damn,” you commented, moving it around in your hands. You were careful with your

inspections and Dean filled his backpack up with any extra supplies you may need but truly, this was the one and only thing that could actually kill this thing.

“Yeah, I want this rawhead extra freakin’ crispy,” Dean mumbled and then looked at you, pointing the butt of his taser gun at you and dancing it between you and Sam. He was really only talking to you and you knew that. “Remember, you’ve only got one shot with these things, so you better make it count.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you mumbled with a little attitude laced in your voice at his reminder. You accidentally fire one of these prematurely once and you’ll never live it down. Dean closed the trunk to the Impala and you snuck your way into the old, creaky, house. It seemed to be abandoned for the most part, the floors hardly kept up with, garbage everywhere. You made your way to the basement, guns pointed and flashlights ready.

It was quiet until it wasn’t and there was a bang coming from one of the walls. All three of your flashlights instantly went to the noise and you crept closer to it. On the count of three, Dean pulled open the little door that you assumed led to a little crawlspace. You jumped when he opened it but relief flooded you when you saw it was two little kids.

One boy and one girl, shaking with their knees pulled to their chest. “Is it still here?” Sam asked, loosely looking over them for any obvious injuries. The boy nodded to his question and you gestured for them to stand up and get out of the crawlspace.

“Grab your sister’s hand. We’re gonna get you out of here,” Dean said. You put your hand on their backs, carefully walking them over to the stairs with Sam and Dean guarding your back. You and the kids made it to the landing but Sam’s groan was too loud in your ear and then there was a thud and some screaming and Sam tumbled down the stairs. “SAM!” You and Dean both called out for him. Dean shot his taser gun in the direction that he must have seen this thing but he missed.

Sam quickly got up and ran back up the stairs to you, tossing his taser gun at Dean. “Take this!” He ordered. Dean caught it easily, nodding towards you and his brother before you disappeared behind the corner and ran out of the house. Sam told you to stay put, guarding the entrance to the house while he secured the girls in the car.

You couldn’t hear much coming from the basement but you were anxiously waiting. Dean could handle himself was the mantra that you repeated over and over again while your leg shook in anticipation. “I’m gonna go back down there!” You called for Sam. He didn’t say anything, just waved a hand at you to give you the go ahead and you whipped around, running back down the stairs trying not to make too much noise but the second you saw Dean lying in the corner of the basement, unconscious, you ran.

You could feel a pulse on your fingertips but you didn’t know if it was his or just yours from your heart beating so quickly. He wouldn’t wake up, no matter how much you tried to shake him awake or slap his cheeks or begged him to. You knew you couldn’t carry him up the stairs alone and it felt like an eternity, you sitting there, checking for pulses on his neck and his wrists while crying out for Sam until he eventually showed up. He ran to your side, doing all the same steps that you just did until he grabbed him and helped you carry him to the car.

Getting the kids to safety was your first mission but it felt insignificant to you as you cradled Dean’s head in your lap in the front seat of the Impala. You tried not to cry now that you weren’t alone and you didn’t want to freak the kids out so you sniffled to yourself quietly until the kids got out of the car and then Sam and then Dean to take him into the hospital. It wasn’t until you were left alone in the car while Sam delivered him to the ER that you let yourself really, really cry. Like snot shooting out of your nose, not being able to tell the difference between snot and tears on the back of your hand, whole body shaking kind of cry. When you were done and your eyes were bloodshot and your nose was rosy, you went in to join Sam.

You and Sam were at the reception area, trying to figure out how to pay for this mess when the lady gave you a solemn look, “there doesn’t seem to be any insurance on file.” Sam mumbled a few words to himself, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket. He was just as shaken up as you, maybe even more but he was handling it much better. You hadn’t seen him cry but that didn’t mean he wasn’t and he handed the lady a credit card - stolen. “Okay, mister Berkovitz,” she said, reading the name on the card.

You looked over your shoulder at the policemen waiting, watching, staring at you. You pulled on Sam’s jacket after the lady went to run the card and made your way to the policemen. They gave you another solemn look and you were already tired of all the pity looks you were receiving from people. You wanted to be left alone. “We can, uh, finish this up later,” the policeman offered.

“No, it’s okay,” Sam told them, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. “We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood and our windows were rolled down. We heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped and ran inside,” he explained the fake version of it all. The civilian version it.

“And found the kids in the basement?” The officer finished, you and Sam both nodded. “Well thank god that you did,” he said, offering you a proud smile. This was one of the more friendlier encounters with the police you’ve had in the past few years and you were disappointed that it was under such grave circumstances.

You heard a door opening from behind you and you excused yourself from the officers, Sam quickly following. The policemen yelled a thank you down the hall as you ran up to the doctor. “Is he-” You started but the doctor held out a hand, suggesting that you calm down. You took two deep breaths and then the doctor smiled.

“He’s resting,” he said.

“And?” You pushed.

“The electrocution triggered a heart attack - pretty massive, I’m afraid. His heart is damaged,” the doctor explained. You felt like your heart was damaged hearing that news. You felt Sam’s body tense up.

“How damaged?” Sam asked and you braced yourself for the worst news possible. You could see it in the doctor's eyes that that was coming. You wrapped your arm around Sam’s, leaning into him for comfort.

“We’ve done all that we can. We just need to try and keep him comfortable at this point but I’d give him a couple weeks at most, maybe a month,” he explained. You thought that you had cried all of your tears but more threatened to come. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought that you were going to vomit all of the doctor’s white coat.

“No. There’s gotta be more that you can do,” Sam protested, his face falling and there they were: the tears. “Some kind of treatment,” Sam suggested.

“We can’t work miracles. I really am sorry.” Your lips parted and you could feel the tears streaking down your face and you felt paralyzed in that hallway with that doctor but Sam pushed you off of him and pushed past the doctor and into Dean’s room where the TV was lightly humming.

When you entered the room, Dean was mumbling something about daytime TV with his raspy voice that cut deep into your skin and left you bruised. You popped up behind Sam, who sighed and let out a sharp exhale. “We talked to your doctor,” he said.

“That fabric softener teddy bear. I wanna hunt that little bitch down,” Dean said, pursing out his lips as he changed the channel of the TV.

“Dean,” you warned. He rolled his eyes, putting the remote down on his lap.

“Looks like you guys are gonna have to leave town without me,” he said bluntly.

“What are you talking about? We’re not gonna leave you here,” you said, stepping out from behind Sam’s back, getting braver and braver but it was hard to see him in this condition. It was heart wrenching.

“You better take care of that car,” he warned. “I swear I’ll haunt your ass.”

“I don’t think that’s funny,” Sam said and you agreed but you bit your lip to prevent yourself from smiling.

“Oh come on, it’s a little bit funny.” You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh and Sam smiled, looking down at his feet. The room fell silent then and Dean let out a sigh. “Look, Sammy, what can I say, man? It’s a dangerous gig and I drew the short straw. That’s it, end of story.”

“Don’t talk like that, alright? We’ve still got options,” Sam pleaded with his brother. You knew just as well as Dean that there were no options but Sam would play the devil’s advocate until Dean died. He would always beat the horse too thin. Pray for a miracle that would never come.

“What options? You got burial or cremation,” Dean deadpanned.

“Hey,” you warned, shooting him a glare. He licked his lips, raised his eyebrows at you apologetically and then sighed again.

“I know it’s not easy but I’m gonna die. And you can’t stop it,” Dean said. He was the first one to really say it out loud. In those words. Sam’s face was scrunched up and red and you saw the tears pooling in his eyelid but you knew he wouldn’t let them fall around Dean. You put your hand on his forearm briefly and then sat on the edge of Dean’s bed.

“Watch me.”

The next few days were spent searching the internet and calling everyone in John’s journals to figure out a way to fix this, but Sam wasn’t sleeping and he wasn’t crying and you felt like maybe he was holding back for you because even when you were hiding in the bathroom, waiting for him to do something while he was alone - there was nothing. You couldn’t even hear him crying in the shower.

You were perched on the edge of the bed, the laptop on your lap while Sam tried John’s phone. No answer. “Hey dad, it’s Sam. Uh… You probably won’t even get this, but, uh, it’s Dean,” he started, his voice shaking and cracking. You closed the laptop and pushed it to the side. “He’s sick and the doctors say there’s nothing they can do.” He paused, his face scrunching up in pain. “But hey,” he chuckled, “they don’t know the things we know, right? So don’t worry, cuz I’m, uh, gonna do whatever it takes to get him better.” Sam kept hitting his ankle that was crossed over his knee and playing with the frayed ends. “All right, just wanted you to know.” Sam hung up and you were angry at John for not answering and not being here and making Sam do this alone.

“Hey,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. He jumped at your touch, almost like he forgot that you were even there but he softened when he looked at your face. You gave him a weak smile. “We’ll fix this, okay?” You promised him. It wasn’t something you could promise or that you should have promised but you did it anyway to make him feel better.

He pushed off the bed and started to pace around the room, running his hands through his dirty hair. He looked like such a mess. You could almost see the anger building up inside of him on his face. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, the way his lips were tight against each other. Sam turned around and in one swift motion, he cleaned the table clean of all the magazines and take out menus that littered it.

You jumped to your feet and put your hands on his biceps, coaching him to look at you. Begging him to look you in the eyes. When he finally did, you gave him another weak smile. “Breathe, okay? Please?” You asked. Sam licked his lips and then took a deep breath, nodding at you but when he let it out, he shook his head and crashed his body into yours.

You wrapped your arms around him and he squeezed you so tight you thought your head was going to pop off but you didn’t mind because that was Sam and you were willing to hold him for as long as he needed or wanted you to but a knock at the door broke the moment.

You sat him down on the bed and got the door yourself. “Dean?” His skin was pale and he was sweating even though it was cold outside and his body was pressed against the doorframe. “What the hell are you doing here?” You scolded him for leaving but the smile on Sam’s face when he saw him, made you regret it.

“I checked myself out,” he smirked, limping into the room, holding himself up with the chair.

“Are you crazy?” Sam asked but his face was filled with relief and joy that his brother was here with him. You knew just how crazy it made him think about Dean in that hospital bed, alone, watching daytime TV that he hated.

“I wasn’t going to die in a hospital, especially where the nurses aren’t even hot,” he joked as you closed the door behind him and helped him sit down in the chair. Neither of you laughed at his joke, but Dean still thought it was funny and he chuckled.

“You know, this whole “I laugh in the face of death” thing is crap. I can see right through it,” Sam told him, trying to scold or be serious but he was still smiling a little bit.

“Yeah, whatever, dude,” Dean rolled his eyes and adjusted his jacket so that he was comfortable and you couldn’t imagine that he was but he was putting on a brave face despite the fact that he looked like he was dying. “Have you even slept? You look worse than me,” he teased.

“He hasn’t,” you answered for Dean but giving Sam a glare. You had been begging him the last few days to just get a few moments of sleep and you would do the research for him but he insisted on staying up until he found a solution for his brother. Even as you slept, you could feel his body stirring next to you.

“I’ve been scouring the internet for the last three days. Been calling every contact in dad’s journal,” Sam explained, sitting down on the bed across from his brother. You sat next to him, pulling out the laptop and opening it up. There weren’t many solutions out there, but the one that you had so far, was pulled up on the computer.

“For what?” Dean groaned, visibly uncomfortable.

“For a way to help you. One of dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. He told me about a guy in Nebraska, a specialist,” Sam explained. You pulled up all the reports of the guy that you could find online, up, spinning the computer to show Dean. All the articles you could find showed nothing but good things. This guy healing people from even the brink of death.

Dean scanned the screen and shook his head, “you guys aren’t gonna let me die in peace, are you?” He asked.

“We’re not gonna let you die, period. We’re going.”

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