Catch A Flame

Chapter 11

July 2, 2014

Dean took a shaky step. Sam's hand lingered on his shoulder as he repeated that very action. In his head, he was cursing his defiant muscles.

"You still wanting to go to the grill out Friday?" Dean knew Sam knew the answer. He also knew Sam knew that he knew this. Small talk wasn't always such a bitch.

"Benny got it cleared with the Doc and Rufus." Dean still held tightly to the railing, but after moving his left foot once more, he looked to Sam. "It's not like I'm gonna be totally helpless. If anything were to even happen there are several paramedics there to help me out." Then he added the afterthought, "a few of them might tan my hide after. Not like I need an entire hospital to accompany me."

Sam made a face that spelled he had a retort.

"Can it, Sammy." Dean feigned a grudge as he moved forward.

Sam let out a chesty rumble, patting Dean's shoulder.

The elder of the two playfully shoved his brother.

Sam's eyes lit with mirth. Without thought, Sam's curled fist rose to strike back. In a jesting manner, he thumped Dean's arm.

Whatever tidbit of joy was there, soon was drained away along with some of the color of Dean's face. His hold on the railing tightened. He hung his head.

"Oh shit, Dean. I didn't-" Sam knew full well to shut the hell up by the look his older brother was giving him. Though, it didn't take long for some version of a pain stuffed smile to slip into that green. All was forgiven. Right now at least.

"Wheelchair," Dean panted out after a while.

That single word caused Sam's eyes to grow wide. He was about to go grab the chair he had brought his brother in when Dean spoke again.

"Doc wants me to take the wheelchair. For the grill out." The last part seemed like an afterthought.

Sam let out a breath. "Well, you did just wake up last week."

Dean gave him a shut-your-damn-mouth glare, before rolling his eyes.

"You just came out of a coma, Dean." Suddenly Sam's chest tightened. "You need to take it easy, especially with those migraines you've been having."

Dean groaned. Of course Jody ratted him out.

"I'm serious, Dean. I am not going to lose you," again, "after just getting you back."

"Alright, alright. I get it, Samantha." Dean let his eyes roam around the room. There were some other people going about their business. Those who were able to attend a physical therapy session outside of their rooms.

But when his gaze fixed with those blue eyes, he was caught. Something that was so calming that it couldn't be real. The man standing there was nearly transparent. Dean's hand gripped the railing, turning white. His next steps were shuffled. The movements almost as if he'd do anything to get to this outline of a person. To get to those blue eyes. The oceans that showed the very soul. Eyes that were so poetic it was unfair to whoever was the poor sap that was caught in their attention. Currently, that poor sap was the eldest Winchester.

He blinked, and the blue was gone. A ghost from his own mind.

"Dean? What is it?" Sam followed his older brother's line of sight to find just as much vacancy in the room's doorway.

"Hot nurses," the awe was still in his tone. A fascination from the cruelty of his own mind haunting him. Cobwebs still strung up high and thick in the corners of his brain. But those blue eyes, they almost seemed like his answer. His saving grace. Maybe even the guardian angel perched on his shoulder.