Keeping up with the Joneses

Part Fourteen

It was the next day when Sara woke back up, light shining through the blinds and making her eyes squint. She looked around, eyes falling on Sam, and to her surprise, Dean. He looked completely healthy, but his head was in his hands and he looked stressed.

"Dean," she said, sitting up quickly. Both boys stood, eyebrows raising at how fast she sat up. She looked down at her right arm, ripping the IV once again from its place.

"Sara--" Sam began.

"I'm fine. Dean, how? Are you okay? God, I was so worried."

"I'm... Yeah, I'm good."

She looked around, noticing the expression on the boys' faces. "What?"

"Dad died."

Sara's mouth fell open. "Wh-- Wait, what?"

Dean rubbed his nose, sniffing roughly. She stood from her bed, walking around it and standing in front of the boys. They both stood, apparently ready to leave. However, Sara stepped forward and hugged Dean, then Sam. Both hugged her back, burying their heads in the crook of her neck. The hugs lasted longer than any other hug they would've shared, and Sara was sure the boys were misty-eyed when they pulled away.

It took less time than Sara thought it would to get checked out, and soon enough they were on their way. The sun had already set by the time they found a place where they could give John a hunter's burial. Sara shivered in the cool night; it being summer didn't stop the darkness from bringing a chill to the air. The three of them slowly built the stand that the boys eventually placed John on, Dean lighting a match and throwing it under the wood.

They stood back, Dean and Sam on either side of Sara as the fire took hold. Sara grabbed one of each boy's hands, giving them a squeeze as tears fell from her eyes. They kept quiet for a long time, watching as the flames slowly engulfed the bag that held John's body. Sara listened as Sam sniffled, and Dean took a deep breath.

"Before he..." Sam struggled to form words, taking a breath before he continued. "Before he..." Sara squeezed his hand again. "Did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean took a second before he responded. "No. Nothing." Sara pulled the boys closer to her, wrapping her arms around their waists. They stayed like that for a long time, until the fire died down and the wind blew steadily through the trees. Sara looked at the moon as the three of them walked toward their car, the Impala already at Bobby's.

The drive back to Sioux falls was quiet, Dean's regular classic rock playing on the radio. None of them spoke, except for the occasional check to see if anyone needed a bathroom break.

They arrived at Bobby's just before the break of dawn, Bobby quietly letting the three of them into the house to rest. Sara sat at the kitchen table after grabbing a beer from the fridge and pressing it to her still-throbbing head. Dean sat on the couch after Bobby went upstairs, Sam following closely behind to get some sleep.

Sara opened her beer and took a sip before walking back to the fridge to grab one for Dean. He took it without a word, and she sat next to him on the couch.

"Want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Want to sleep?"

"Probably can't."

Sara sighed, resting her head on his shoulder as he turned on the television to a channel that was broadcasting Tom and Jerry. He leaned back, taking a sip of his beer and resting his chin on Sara's head.

"How's the head?"

"It's alright," Sara said. "Still kinda throbby but I'll be fine." She felt him nod, and then he quickly placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"You know, I was kinda expecting you to be by my bedside when I woke up."

"I know," she groaned, lifting her head to look at him. "I don't even know what happened."

Dean smiled a little, shaking his head. "Nah, don't be sorry. I was just worried."

"You were worried? Dean, I thought you were gonna die."

"Can't get rid of me that easy," he mumbled, taking another sip of his beer.

"Right," she sighed, focusing her attention back to the cartoon. They watched for a few minutes, but Sara felt the need to say something else. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" He looked back at her, making eye contact.

"You can tell me anything. I know I've said it before, but whatever's weighing on you, you can tell me. It doesn't have to be now, or even soon. But I'm here to listen. Whenever." He looked down, giving a small nod before they both turned their eyes back to the television. She placed her head back on his shoulder, periodically sipping her beer and watching the sun rise.