sequel to: With a Bang and The Aftershocks and Not a Whimper
Rating: SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen – AU in the year 2020
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Alec POV. Alec's not the only one around here with PTSD.
After Bobby left Alec realized he was starting to feel a whole lot better.
He made a trip into town to fill up the empty fridge. Cleaned the various cars. When the chores ran out he started walking the meandering roads that surrounded the house for miles. All of it took his mind off something besides the murmur of the television and the sight of the same four walls.
But as he started to get out more, he noticed his father seemed to be doing a lot of the opposite.
Walking into the quiet house, he already knew exactly where to find Sam. “Hello?” Alec had started to feel like an intruder whenever he cracked the door to the dark bedroom. “You still sleepin’?”
Rolling over on the bed, Sam didn’t open his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “I’m just tired.”
Alec thought he was looking a little on the pale side.
Although his father had been technically deceased for about a week, Alec didn’t understand exactly what the current problem was. Granted the whole near-death experience thing didn’t leave a person feeling all that fantastic. Alec should know, he’d been puking up all sorts of interesting stuff for a while and he still wasn‘t exactly back to what he’d call normal. Glancing uncomfortably at the closed blinds, he wondered if his dad had gotten a look at the newly leveled cornfields yet.
“Are you thirsty?” Alec asked.
Alec had been getting the weird feeling that his father had been maybe holding back his exhaustion until now. Like Sam had been waiting for Alec to come around again before he let himself finally crash.
“Okay,” Alec backed out of the room. “Be right back.”
He got a plastic pitcher and filled it with ice like the medics used to do for him when he was laid up in the infirmary. Setting it down on the floor, he watched Sam curl tighter into a ball and gingerly slide his hands over his forehead.
“Are you depressed?” Alec guessed. “I read that people who are depressed sleep a lot and don’t eat anything.”
“I’m not depressed.”
“Are you sure? Because I‘ve also seen a few infomercials in my time and--”
Alec decided to finally test the waters so to speak. He hadn‘t been brave enough to try to listen in on his father‘s mind unless Sam had been sleeping and all that got him was a lot of dreams that made no sense. “This might hurt a little,” he apologized in advance. “Sorry.”
“What migh- angh...“
Alec pushed his thoughts outwards until they found Sam’s with as much grace as an elbow to the gut. And then he was suddenly inside and sharing the clutter of a headache pounding like a hot anvil in his skull. Wincing at the weight of it, Alec got a glimpse through Sam’s eyes, the pain so bad that he could barely see anything past a few feet. It was disturbing to realize that his father’s body ached all over from injuries that Alec hadn’t even known about. Down the side of his left thigh, the chest, the right hand...
“A-Alec, please. Not now…”
An unexpected image of Ben flashed over everything else. The clone was shoving the black cloth of the cassock into Sam’s hands. The image stuttered again to Ben leaning in close, the clone’s eyes burning bright and his voice low and urgent in his father’s ear--
Sam cut the connection off hard, the force of the removal sending Alec backwards a step into the doorframe.
“I said I’m fine, Alec.”
It was privacy, he vaguely understood, that was keeping Sam secluded in this room. Back in Manticore all your damage was listed and addressed. Your unit’s physicality was made your business and responsibility.
“I still don’t remember anything,” Alec tried a different tactic. “After we had that fight I started running and … I don’t remember anything after but waking up in here and puking on Dean.”
“Good,” Sam said. “That’s good.”
“I guess,” Alec said. “What do you remember?”
Sam always paused for a moment when Alec asked him that. His shoulders tensing before he gave a quick tight smile and a shake of his head. “I don’t remember anything after leaving the church.”
Alec felt a flare of impatient frustration. “Are you lying to me?”
“No,” Sam said quickly. “I’m not.”
There was another flash of Ben. It was so vivid and startling that Alec made a small sound of surprise. Ben was hidden in a ring of colored flames that dripped down from the church ceiling like jewels of a chandelier. Ben was smiling and happy but he was fading away, he was vanishing right into thin air…
“All I remember is the church,” Sam repeated. “And then I was here. Like I blinked or something.”
Alec took in the messy bed that was usually made every day by dawn. Military corners and all that crap. “I’ll get you some dinner.”
“I’m not hungry--”
“We’ve got lots of peanut butter.”
Sam sighed but he didn’t say anything else.
Heading to the kitchen, Alec was just fine with that. His dad could sigh all he wanted as long as he choked down a sandwich. But it turned out he was wrong about the peanut butter. Rattling a knife in the jar he found, he considered how nutritional a few inches of grape jelly between two slices of bread would be…
Alec was startled by a loud on the thud on the window directly in front of his face.
Blinking in confusion at the bright splatter of neon paint on the glass, Alec realized whatever it was would have struck him right between the eyes if the window hadn’t been closed. Peering around the splotch, he saw Dean standing out in the backyard with a large and magnificent looking weapon Alec couldn’t immediately identify.
He had to shove at the new window pane a few times before he could get it open.
“W-What is that thing?” Alec asked in wonder.
Alec ducked this time when another barrage exploded over his head and splattered festively on the wall behind him.
“That’s better,” Dean slung the gigantic electropneumatic rifle over his shoulder. “Don’t want ya getting soft out here in the country.”
“You got another one of those?”
“Yeah, you wanna get out of here before Sam starts makin’ it rain?”
He wasn’t sure if his uncle was kidding about the rain or not, but shooting shit up right now sounded awesome. Tossing the jar of jam into the sink, Alec decided dinner time could wait for when someone felt like turning on a stove. Stepping outside under the churn of the gray clouds he followed Dean’s easy smile.
But something made him pause.
Glancing back once at the house, he realized he could feel his father falling back into an uneasy sleep. Alec gently and slowly reached out again until he could see the dream starting to fill Sam’s head, concentrating hard not to startle or jolt him back into wakefulness. The sputter and blast of the church flames were already starting to roar behind Sam’s eyes like the fire in an a glowing furnace. Alec spread his thoughts thin to softly smother the heat and noise, until there was nothing there but the peaceful quiet of nothing at all.
His own heart began to calm as his father’s fell back into an even steady rhythm.
“What are you smiling about?” Dean asked.
Hefting the extra rifle, Alec shrugged.
Sometimes it felt good to get something right.
Even if it was just a shot in the dark.