The One He Let Go

10.

It was the seventh day.

"Hey, kiddo. Where are you off to?" Dean's father, John, asked.
Dean was sitting on the floor, slipping his shoes on. "Going to Jimmy's, dad."
"You've been stayin' out kinda late at Jimmy's." John pointed out, arms folded over his chest.
Dean was tying his laces as he replied. "I know. Sorry." He didn't want to tell his dad why, and he hoped that he wouldn't ask because he hated lying. Thankfully, he didn't have to because the question was never asked. Dean pushed himself up off the floor and headed for the door. "I'll try to come back early. Bye, dad-"
"Dean," his father called out before Dean could fully make it out the door. "How about you just pack up and spend the night over there?"
Dean stepped back inside and shut the door, slightly smiling at John, he asked, "Really?" John nodded in reply. "Awesome!" Dean kicked his shoes off and stumbled up the stairs, grabbing his backpack and stuffing his pajamas in it. He was just about to leave when something caught his attention: an old blanket he used to use when he had nightmares. He never had to use it anymore since the nightmares went away and he claimed to fear nothing. He stared at it for a moment while an uneasy feeling started settling in his stomach. He looked at his watch. It was 5:42. He wasn't even sure if Jimmy would be allowed to have him stay over if asked, but either way, he'd be spending the night. Whether it be on the couch inside or in a sleeping bag on the porch, Dean would not leave Jimmy that night. He quickly grabbed the blanket and jammed it in his backpack, unsure if he was bringing it for Jimmy, or bringing it for himself.

Jimmy looked at the clock. It was 6 o'clock in the afternoon. He hardly left his mom's side that day, as always. He noticed she had gotten fairly worse; she didn't eat at all, and even talking became hard for her to do, but she had actually fallen asleep a few times throughout the day. At first, Jimmy wasn't sure if sleep was a good or bad thing. He didn't know she wasn't sleeping through the night, so he assumed the sleeping she did was extra sleep. He woke her up a few times to give her water and try to get her to eat. It was nothing new that she hardly touched her food, but as the hours went by, her little naps grew longer and that worried Jimmy. He actually grew scared that soon, after she would close her eyes, she wouldn't open them again. She was sleeping now and all Jimmy could do was stare. It had only been fourteen minutes. Earlier, she had slept a little over half an hour, but Jimmy didn't want to take any chances. "Mom," he nudged her arm gently. "Mom, can you wake up?" She let out a breath and her eyes slowly opened. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief and smiled sadly at her, repeating something she used to tell him. "If you sleep now, you're gonna be up all night." Jimmy's mother let out a weak laugh. "Okay, sweetie," she whispered. "I'll stay up." Every word she spoke looked like it really wiped out every last bit of energy she had. Jimmy leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands.
"Good." He looked at her, nostalgically, trying to remember the days when things were a little more bearable for both of them. "Mom, I wanna tell you something." Before he could continue, there was an abrupt knock at the door and Jimmy sat up right away. "That's probably Dean."
"Go."
Jimmy nodded and briskly made his way down the steps to the front door. He opened it to see Dean standing there with a sympathetic smile on his face. "Heya, Jimmy."
"Hey Dean," He gave Dean's backpack a curious look. "What's that?"
"This thing?" Dean shrugged his shoulders, hands on the straps of his backpack. "Well, I was thinking we could have a sleepover. It's been a while since we've really hung out."
"Tonight?" Dean nodded. Jimmy took a step back to let him in and looked toward the stairs. "I don't know if that's a good idea.." His voice trailed off. He thought of how he wanted his mom to meet Dean. "Actually, maybe.. Hold on."
"Sure." Dean slung his bag off his shoulder and plopped down next to it on Jimmy's couch.
Jimmy ran up the stairs to his mother and quietly stepped into her room. Her eyes were closed and breathing was slow. "Mom? Dean's here." He stood by her bed and squeezed her hand. She opened her eyes and peered at the doorway. "Not here, here." Jimmy corrected himself. "He's downstairs. Wanna meet him?" She smiled as best as she could and nodded, tiredly. "Are you sure? Should I call him up?" He felt some pressure on his hand as she tried to give it a reassuring and affirming squeeze. Smiling at her, he pat her hand once and let go briefly to call Dean into her room.
When Dean followed Jimmy back into his mother's room, nothing prepared him for what he would see. His bestfriend's mother who was once vibrant and full of life, due to her depression, was reduced to a feeble, very tired-looking woman. Sadly, Dean's one and only chance to meet her was during her final hours. He never had, nor never will have the chance to meet the young and beautiful, lively woman she once was, long ago. Jimmy himself hardly even got to witness that side of his mother. She fell apart in his earlier childhood years, when his father left them both.
"Dean, this is my mom," Jimmy introduced. "Mom, this is my best friend Dean."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs.-er, Ms. Novak." Dean stuttered, not knowing a what to call her, and reached his hand out, hesitantly. She smiled warmly at him and opened her hand on the bed for him to take. "Oh," he realized what she was trying to do and held her hand, gently shaking it once before attempting to pull away, but she covered his hand with her other one in a weak, but stern hold.
"Dean, it's so nice to finally meet you." Her eyes were as blue as Jimmy's and her words were so sincere, it was like she had been waiting for the longest time to meet her son's friend. Jimmy sat down in his chair and watched as the two had that first exchange. He felt some sense of relief and happiness, knowing that his two favorite people in the world could finally meet. Jimmy's mother reached over to the nightstand and tapped an empty glass, signaling that she wanted water.
"I'll be right back, Dean." Dean gave Jimmy a worried look as Jimmy slid off ha chair and took the glass. "You can sit here."
"Jim, maybe I should go with you." Dean whispered, not all too comfortable being in the room alone with his friend's sick mom.
"It's just water. I'll be fast." He said.
"O-okay." Dean replied, replacing himself in Jimmy's chair next to the bed. Jimmy's mom returned her hand to the position where it was before, holding Dean's. She beckoned for him to move closer. Dean was hesitant, but he scooted the chair in anyway.
"Thank you, Dean," she began, breathing heavily. "for being a good friend to my Jimmy."
"It's no prob-"
She spoke before he could respond. "You two look out for each other, okay? Take care of him."
"Um.." Before Dean could say a proper reply, Jimmy was back with water. Dean's hands were released and he got up from Jimmy's chair, moving out of the way so Jimmy could help his mom drink. When she was finished, she looked at Dean and nodded. He nodded back at her and smiled, wishing he had met her sooner. He knew she was very important to Jimmy and wanted a chance to know her more. She hardly knew him, but at the same time knew so much about him thanks to Jimmy. Dean only wished he could be the same way with her. He stood in the doorway, awkwardly and watched Jimmy talk to her. They were too quiet to hear what was being said, but Dean knew he probably shouldn't interrupt to say he was leaving. He took one last look at the two in the room, closed the door behind him, then quietly went downstairs. His backpack was still sitting on the couch when he got down there. He clutched onto it and started moving towards the door, then stopped himself. His dad already had the idea in his head that he was sleeping over and even if he told himself he would, he did not want to sleep on the porch, so instead, Dean took out his old blanket from his bag, wrapped himself up in it, and laid down on Jimmy's couch, thinking of the Jimmy's mother's last words to him. It was going to be a long night.
Meanwhile, since Dean left the room, it seemed like any will to live had gone from the fragile woman's poor soul. She stopped talking and had trouble staying awake; her eyes were closing for moments at a time. She was hopeless and now, so was Jimmy. He had forgotten all about Dean as he had his final exchange of words with his mother.
"I wish I knew how to help you, mom," he sniffed. "I wish you could talk to me," He stroked her frail hand with a soft, comforting touch. "If I could turn back time, I'd make sure dad never hurt us, especially you." His mother watched him in agony as he took her hand and laid his head against her arm on the bed, her hand tucked comfortably beneath him. He didn't go to sleep just yet, but he waited. He waited for her to say what she would say to him every night before they would go to sleep. He wanted to hear those words one last time; that he was her little miracle. He refused to accept the night before was the last time he would hear her tell him that. Then, it hit him. His little heart sunk in his chest when the thought occurred to him. He lifted his head and looked at his mother, his eyes filled with tears. "Mom, I'm sorry" Jimmy cried. "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough for you anymore. I'm sorry I'm not your little miracle anymore." His words were coming out in broken sobs as he clung onto his mother. His little body was shaking violently from his cries. One moment, his mother wasn't responding and the room was lit by only the dim lamp next to her bed, then the next moment, a bright blue light flooded the room and suddenly, it was like her life had been renewed, and she was embracing him. Jimmy climbed up into the bed with her and buried his tear stained face in her neck as he squeezed her tight, apologizing over and over for not being good enough.
"Jimmy," he heard his mom say. Something about her voice sounded different, as if she was speaking to him through a tunnel, but she was right there, holding him. It wasn't until she spoke again that Jimmy realized it wasn't his mom speaking to him; it was someone speaking to him through his mom. "you will always be your mother's little miracle. She loves you very much, and she's sorry she has to leave you so soon, but she wants you to know that she will be watching over you, and your friend Dean."

Meanwhile...

Dean heard a ruckus come from upstairs and Jimmy's cries. He's leapt up from the couch and stumbled up the stairs tripping over his blanket. "Jim?" He asked, knocking on the door. He looked down and saw the light coming from the inside of the room. "Jimmy?" He repeated, louder, testing the handle. It was locked. "Jimmy!" Dean shouted, now pounding on the door. "Hey, open up! Lemme in!" Dean continued to bang his little fists on the door and kick at it in an attempt to open it, but he was clueless to the fact that no one could hear him from the inside.

Jimmy looked up to see his mother, or rather her body and whoever was in it, looking down at him in her arms with an awkward, but warm smile on her face. "Who-who are you?" He asked. His voice wavered as he wiped his eyes.
"I'm a friend." was all he got in reply before the blue light faded and her body fell limp back on the bed. Startled, Jimmy fell out of the bed and back into his chair, then sat up, numb at the experience he just encountered, and stared at the sight before him.

Seconds later, the door swung open. Dean was standing in the doorway in his pajamas with a blanket slung over his shoulder.
"Jimmy?"
"She's gone, Dean," he said, just barely whispering. "She's gone."
Dean swallowed hard, seeing her body on the bed. Trying to remain calm, he walked over to his friend, put the blanket over his shoulders so it was draped over both of them, and pulled at his arm, coaxing him out of the room. Once he got Jimmy to go downstairs, he sat him on the couch while he called the police. Once the call was made, Dean walked back over to his friend, sat down beside him, fixing the blanket on his shoulders, and held him tight.