Searching the Darkness

Chapter Twenty Five: Wake Up

With a sharp gasp, I felt myself return to the world of the living. "Dean?" Sam exclaimed, springing up from the chair he had been seated in. "Dean!" He burst into the hallway, "Help! Someone!"

Running footsteps sounded in the doorway as I turned my head to look. "Mr. Winchester!" the doctor exclaimed. "You're awake!"

"No kidding," I groaned weakly. I wracked my brain for what had happened, but the last thing I remembered was collapsing in Sam's arms. Sam laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Can you do whatever you need to so I can talk to my brother?" I asked slowly.

"I'll just come back later," he said. "The only question I need answered now is: how do you feel?"

"Like I was thrown from a bus," I replied with a smirk hidden in my eyes.

"Do you need any pain medication?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I'll survive."

The doctor nodded. "All right. I'll leave you to your brother."

As soon as he was out the door, Sam lost it. He wandered back to my bedside, trying to hold back the sobs. "I'm so sorry, Dean," he cried. "It was all my fault! You could've died thinking that I hated you. I would never have been able to forgive myself if you didn't make it."

"Sammy..." I shook my head. "It wasn't your fault. I chose to leave."

"But you wouldn't have left if I hadn't yelled at you. I know the fire wasn't your fault and that there was nothing you could've done to prevent it. If I thought that losing Jessica was hard, I can't imagine what it would've been like to lose you too."

I smiled through the wave of pain as I sat up. "I'll always come back, Sammy, whether you want me to or not."

"Promise?" he whispered, hugging me tightly.

I hugged him back, closing my eyes. "I promise." Pulling back, I frowned. "What day is it?"

"Friday," Sam replied. "You crashed a week ago today."

"Did you tell Cas?"

I heard Sam hang his head. "You weren't supposed to make it. I didn't want him coming, only to watch you die. I'm sorry, Dean."

Nodding slowly, I sighed. "I understand, Sammy. You did it to protect him. But can we call him now? I made a huge mistake and I need to make it right."

"Yeah," he pulled out his phone. "Yeah, here."

I sighed in annoyance as he held it out to me. "Sam."

"Huh?"

"I can't use touch screens."

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"I can't see the numbers, Sam."

I felt his entire being freeze. "What?"

"After you left, it just went away." I said, hoping to end the conversation before tears threatened my composure.

"It?" Sam asked, hoping that I didn't mean what he thought. "Dean, don't play the pronoun game with me."

"My eyesight, Sam," I clarified angrily. "My eyesight faded and went away when you left. I can't see anything, just like before."

"Dean, I-"

"Just call him, would you?" He nodded and dialed the number. I held my breath, waiting for him to pick up. But he never did. "Try again," I said for the fourth time.

"Dean," Sam sighed. "He's not going to answer. He's probably mad at me because I missed your funeral."

"My... funeral?"