Meant To Be {1} (Dean Winchester)

Chapter 23

Suddenly, Sam gasped awake and sat up in the ice water, "Get off me!" He yelled as Brooke and I sat up. I lightly grabbed Sam's arm, "Take it easy, Sam," I said but he pushed me away and scrambled, shakily out of the tub."

Brooke stood up, grabbing a towel and throwing it over Sam's shoulders as he looked around.

I stood up, trying again to lay my hands on Sam, seeming to grab his attention but he didn't fight it. Instead, he looked panicky, "He's here, Dean. Metatron is here, I know it, I can hear him."

"What're you talking about?" I asked, confused.

"All I know is that I'm connected to it somehow," Sam said, looking around again.

My eyes looked to Brooke for a second, this seeming to be news to her as well. "What, like you got a link to him, like a prophet?" I asked, praying to God, or anyone in this case, that he wouldn't end up being a prophet.

Sam looked around slightly before turning to Brooke. His mouth dropped slightly, "Brooke... I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know what I was doing."

"It's okay," Brooke reassured him.

I grabbed Sam's attention again, making him turn towards me, "Sam, where is he?"

"He's here. Metatron is here," Sam said excitedly. "I can show you. I can show you. The manager. He was delivering books to him." Sam started to leave the bathroom, but my arm stopped him in the doorway, "Books?"

"Books. Hardcovers, paperbacks, novels—books," Sam said before walking towards the Hotel room's door.

My word came out as a mumble, it all coming together, "Stories."

Brooke gave me a funny look, my eyes catching it instantly but choosing to ignore it for now. Sam took off his blanket, laying it on the bed before stumbling towards the door. He holds onto the doorpost as he opens the door and starts to exit. I side step, taking in the spot next to him while Brooke fallows behind.

"I should be taking you to the ER," I comment to Sam, hoping that for once he'll listen and agree. He doesn't.

"They can't do anything for me. You know, I've been remembering things, little things, so clearly—"

I raise an eyebrow, "What, donkey rides?"

Sam smiles slightly, "You used to read to me, um, when I was little. I mean, really little, from that— from that old, uh... Classics Illustrated comic book. You remember that?"

Shaking my head, though my brain wasn't really trying real hard, I said, "No."

"Knights of the Round Table. Had all of King Arthur's knights, and they were all on the quest for the Holy Grail. And I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad, and, and, and he was kneeling, and light streaming over his face, and I remember... thinking, uh, I could never go on a quest like that."

Sam suddenly stops, leaning against the hallway wall, seeming sad. "Because I'm not clean. I mean, I was just a little kid. You think... maybe I knew? I mean, deep down, that... I had demon blood in me, and about the evil of it, and that I'm— wasn't pure?"

Brooke speaks up next to me, speaking in her calm voice, "Sam, it's not your fault."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Because these trials... they're purifying me," Sam says, seeming slightly happy by it all.

Brooke nor I said a word, unsure on how to respond.

We reached the end of the hallway, Sam stopping and looking at a door. "They were here, the— the— the books, the boxes! They— they're gone."