Struggling to Survive Pt. 05

Preview from the last chapter:

Tom revealed that he witnessed Kara having sex in the parking lot. The two had a major blowout and ended with Tom leaving. He did return to talk things over with her.

The two decided to try to fight for the marriage, but it just wasn't meant to be. He was having trouble believing Kara's claims. She was also being less than honest with him, so in the end the two of them split.

Tom also had to confront his mother's mal-treatment of Dean. He essentially banished her from the kid's lives until she could come to grips with her own demons.

Kara had to deal with feelings of abandonment. In her selfish anger and hurt that her husband wouldn't want to try harder, she decided to allow Richard to seduce her again. This time she had more of a struggle with her conscience. Yet she still succumbed.

Tom Narrating:

I was awakened by the sound of Dean and Sammy laughing in my kitchen. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was 9:30 am.

It was Saturday, so I enjoyed a leisurely stretch and the knowledge that I had nothing to do today except spend it with my boys. I had them for the entire weekend.

It was nice to hear Dean laughing. He hadn't done much of that since the divorce. He'd become sullen and distant. I wondered what could have broken through his normal moodiness and tapped into his humor.

That was when I noticed the smell of bacon and eggs. Since when did Dean learn to cook. I better get in this kitchen before he burns my apartment down.

I got out of my bed, and strolled through the small hallway in my apartment. When I turned the corner to go into the kitchen, I stopped short. My mother looked back at me from the stove.

"Morning son! It's about time you woke up! How many eggs to you want?"

I tried to mask anger that I felt when I asked, "What are you doing here mother?"

"Granny was just cooking us breakfast. She was telling Sammy and me about the time you snuck out of the house to go to that rap concert." Dean answered cheerily in between laughs. Sam was practically busting a gut.

"Yes son. You were upset because your father and I wouldn't let you go listen to that God awful crap. Who was that guy? Jizzy or Jazzy? I can't keep those names straight." She said as she playfully nudged Dean and put three pancakes on his plate. He immediately started drowning them in syrup and devouring them like he'd been deprived food his entire life.

"It was Jay Z mom. And yes, I wanted to listen to something other than Christian pop." I said, still trying to get a grasp at the surreal scene in front of me. My mom and Dean, laughing together and sharing breakfast. I took a seat next to Dean, who was seriously digging into those pancakes.

"Jay Z, Jizzy, Jazzy, tomato, tomahto, it all sounds ridiculous to me. But you had your heart set on going, and you went."

"Hey pops, did you really stuff pillows under your blanket to make it look like you were sleeping?" Dean asked, clearly enjoying having me the butt of the jokes.

"Well, it worked on Ferris Bueller's Day off." I said as I shrugged my shoulders.

"Who is Ferris Bueller?"

I made a mental note to myself to introduce this kid to some real movies. That, above all else, was proof that I have failed him as a father.

I got up and walked over to my mom. She looked me in my eyes, and I saw that her's were watering. She seemed like she was half expecting me to throw her out, but silently begging me not to. I pulled her into a hug, and she squeezed me back with the hand that wasn't holding a spatula.

"Thank you mom." I whispered to her.

"No, thank you son. I love you, and I'm proud of the man you've become. Having the guts to tell your mom when she's being a selfish, petty cow takes courage." She whispered back as she kissed me on the cheek.

"Granny, can I get more pancakes?" Dean asked with a mouth full of food. Where the hell did the first three go?

"Of course Dean. You have an appetite like your father. Which reminds me, let me tell you about the time he tried to eat the entire pan of brownies. He was about your age Sammy. Poor kid stayed on the toilet for hours."

As my boys and my mother shared another boisterous laugh at my expense all I could do was smile. This was my family.

I also felt a tinge of regret at the scene before me. It was so complete, yet lacking something. A tear came to my eye and I found myself cursing at Kara.

Why did you rob us of this moment? You selfish bitch. God, I wish you were here.

No matter how much I wanted to deny it, this picture was not complete without her.

*************************

Kara narrating:

Look at my boys. So handsome.

I sniffled as I looked teary eyed at my wedding pictures. There, standing side by side, were the groom and the best man. Tom and Dean smiled at me in their tuxes. I had never seen two men look more beautiful.

Of course, Dean was only eight in this picture and technically not a man, but he looked so mature here. It was like he was willingly accepting Tom as the man of the house, and was gladly turning the reins over to him. I was so lucky that the first man in Dean's life was Tom.

Dean's real father was a high school mistake. He was my first real boyfriend. I was with him for three months before he talked me into giving him my virginity. I thought I was so mature! I had a lot to learn about men and the world.

When his family found out I was pregnant, they shipped him off to live with his aunt. They wanted him as far away from "the slut" as they could get him. Never mind the fact that I was the virgin, and that he had fucked half of our volleyball team before he made his way to me. No, I was the slut who was corrupting their son!

This trip down memory lane was a depressing one. Since the divorce, this was my first time being alone. Tom had always spent time with the boys, but this was the first time he kept them overnight at his place.

The eerie silence of the house was foreign. When I was a housewife, I used to relish these times of silence. It mostly only happened when Tom was at work, Dean was at school, and Sammy was napping. I used to just sit in the tub, put on my headphones, and drift. Now, I had to stop myself from calling Tom and begging him to bring the boys back.

Tom. We really fucked this up, didn't we? Of course, I had to punctuate it by sleeping with Richard.

I thought back to my time with Richard earlier in the week. That passionate night that I let loose and gave myself fully to him. There was nothing holding me back from fully satisfying the lust that had built up between us.

It was great. I loved every minute of it. Richard was a very accomplished lover, and he handled me quite expertly.

However, once it was over, it was over. I no longer felt that pull to him. The attraction that I had for him was...gone. I'm not saying that he wasn't still sexy. I just no longer felt infatuation.

Maybe it was the fact that there was so much pain surrounding our time together. Losing Tom over him played a big role in how I looked at him now. Not to mention the fact that he was married.

I guess that is what made this situation that much more finite. He would never be mine's. I would never be his. Deep down, we both knew that. The sex with him was just that. Sex. As drawn as I was to him, I knew that I would never love him.

When I looked at the pictures of his wife, I didn't feel jealousy. I didn't wish I could take her place. I just felt...pity. I felt sorry for her. Then I felt sorry for me.

She could have just as well been me. There could have been a woman in my house looking at our family pictures, getting ready to be fucked by Tom. Oh God! What would I do if the shoe were on the other foot? How low would I feel?

Tears streamed my eyes as I thought about that. Imagining Tom, in the throws of passion with another woman, eating her pussy, licking her ass. I felt literally sick.

If Tom had done that to me, I believe I would have truly forgiven him. But if I'm honest, it wouldn't have been easy. I would have felt that pain for years to come. The betrayal of it would have eaten at me. We would not have been the same as we had been.

I now longed for Tom. His unshaven beard, his crusty socks when he returned from his mountain bike rides with Dean, his non-romancing ass attempts to have sex with me made me feel a yearning for him.

I actually laughed at myself when I realized that I longed to hear those words that I hated so much. Kara, let's do it.

For the millionth time, I wondered what would have happened if we tried to bridge the communication gap sooner. I remembered countless missed opportunities on both sides. Times we cried out for each other, only to go unheard. Times when we should have cried out, only to have things go unsaid. Sigh.

Stop crying Kara. Stop it!

I completely disobeyed my inner voice as I broke down in sobs. I wept loudly. There was no one here to hear me. Why not?

Sandra was right. Losing Tom DID kill me.

I needed a friend. I picked up my cell phone and dialed her number. As it rang, I wondered if Tom looked back with regret like I do.

Does he even miss me? Does he still love me?

*************************************

Tom narrating:

My mom spent the rest of the morning with us. She left a little before noon. The boys and I had a day planned anyway, so we had to get ready.

We were picking up our tradition of mountain biking. This was the first year that Sammy could join Dean and I. I was really excited about this ride. Since the divorce, this was the first really good day that I had in a while.

Seeing my boys smiling put a smile on my face. I shook off the empty feeling that swirled inside of me when I thought about Kara, and focused on my time here. This moment wasn't perfect, but it was as close as it could get given the circumstances.

We piled our gear in the car, strapped the bikes to the rack, and were on our way. My apartment was further out from the trail than my house was (when I was married), so the drive that used to only take us a few minutes took more like 20.

Once we got to the trail, we decided to try to take it easy, since Sammy was with us. So we leisurely rode the easy trail, allowing for the little legs to keep up with us. Before long, I looked at my watch and realized that we'd been riding for an entire hour. The boys showed no signs of being fatigued, so we finished the ride all the way to the top.

"I'm the kind of the world!" Sammy yelled when we looked at the scene beneath us. It was breath taking. We could see the entire city from up here. Houses, streets, City hall, trees, all of it was before our gaze.

We spent about 20 playful minutes drinking Gatorade, eating sandwiches, and pointing out various houses (we saw Kara's house, my apartment building, Dean's school, etc.) before we called it a day and began the decent down.

We walked our bikes down, even though it would have been more fun to ride. This was Sammy's first time with us, and I didn't want something crazy to happen (like he lose control and ride right off of the edge). So we took our leisurely time.

"Pops, isn't that Trixie?" Dean asked as he stopped walking and shielded his eyes from the sun to get a better look. I followed his gaze to find a poor dog hopelessly entangled in a bush. A closer looked verified that it was indeed Trixie.

"Yeah Dean. What the hell is she doing all the way up here?" I chuckled.

Dean laughed and handed me his bike. "I'm gonna go help her pops. Mrs. Oberman (my elderly neighbor when I lived with Kara, and Trixie's owner) is probably worried sick. She should really get that gate fixed."

I took his bike and held it as he went over to the poor distressed dog, who was whimpering and struggling to get free.

"Dad, when are we going home? I'm tired." I heard Sammy say from behind me. I turned to see my poor son trudging slowly and dragging his bike beside him. He looked like he wanted to lay down and take a nap in the middle of the road.

These boys are sure gonna sleep good tonight. I chuckled to myself as I wrapped him in a one armed hug. He leaned his sweaty little head against me.

I looked over to Dean, who had freed Trixie by now. Once that little mutt felt herself no longer trapped, she took off down the road.

"Trixie!" Dean yelled as he ran after her. He disappeared around the bend. I could still hear him yelling her name.

I didn't have the energy to yell out for him. Truth be told, I was worn out too. So Sammy and I started to walk around the bend.

Then I heard his scream. Anyone with kids knows the scream that I'm speaking of. The bloodcurdling scream that grips your spine and lets you know that your kid is in imminent danger. Parents all over have nightmares featuring that very sound. I dropped my bike and went full sprint.

"DEAN!" I desperately yelled out. I shot my head around 360 degrees, urgently searching for him. I heard his cries, but I couldn't see him anywhere.

"Pops! Help me, please!"

I don't know what it was, but I FELT him. I looked down at the ground a few feet in front of me and found that the dirt had been disturbed. Closer inspection revealed that the disturbance was a pair of sliding footprints, like someone fell. My heart stopped beating when I saw that they slid over to an edge that suddenly dropped off.

"OH MY GOD. DEAN!" I yelled as I went over to the cliff. There, barely holding on to a tree root with one hand, was my son. Beneath him, his feet dangled in open air.

"Pops, please I can't hold on!" he cried with all the desperation in the world. I saw that his fingers were losing strength and slipping. He had another three seconds to hold on, maybe two before I would lose him for good.

My mind went into pure instinct mode at that point. I dropped down on my stomach and forcefully grabbed him by the wrist. At that exact moment, his fingers failed him.

His body started to fall, but I caught him. The momentum of his body weight started to drag me over the cliff with him. We were both going over the edge. With reflective action that I didn't even know I possessed, I reached out and wrapped my free arm around a small tree.

"DAD!" I heard Sammy yell from behind me. Panic filled his voice.

"SAMMY! STAY OVER THERE! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" I screamed at him. I heard his footsteps running the other way.

I was still laying on my stomach, but the only thing keeping Dean and I from hurdling through empty air to our deaths was my arm and the tree it was clinging to. I couldn't let go. I tried to pull Dean up, but it was impossible with one arm.

"Pops! Please, pull me up!" my son cried with horrified tears in his eyes as he witnessed my failed attempt.

"Dean! Dean! I need you to calm down. I need you to listen to me like you've never listened to me before."

"Pops, I don't wanna die."

"Dean! Listen to me. The only way you are hitting those rocks beneath you is if my mangled body is laying next to you. I am NOT letting you go. Do you understand me?"

He didn't answer me. He just looked at me with fear in his eyes.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I WILL NOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU SON! NOW NOD IF YOU HEAR ME!"

With a new understanding in his eyes, he nodded to me.

"Good. Now, I can't pull you up. I'm not strong enough. So I need you to help me. Pull yourself up. Okay?"

Once again he nodded. Then, with resolve in his eyes, he tried to pull himself up by using my arm as a rope. Every movement that he made caused the arm holding the tree to scream out in pain as my muscles worked way past their capacity. He was making progress though. His foot caught a hold of something and his body weight lightened.

I was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief when his foot slipped, sending him tumbling back down. My fingers gripped his wrist so tight that they were digging in his skin.

I heard him cry out in pain as he dangled helplessly once again. His shoulder looked to be badly dislocated.

"Pops, I can't pull myself up! My arm hurts too bad."

Oh God no! I can't lose him! Please, help me!

Sweat beaded my forehead as my vision became impaired. I don't know my eyes were filled with tears, or if the sweat was dripping in them, but they burned. The arm holding the tree told me that it had no more left to give. It was too much. I knew that I had to choose whether to drop my son and save myself, or plummet with him to both of our deaths.

Live for Sammy, or die with Dean. In essence, I was being made to choose between my sons. My worst horror was realized.

God please! I can't choose! I won't choose!

I felt my arm begin to give. I tried to will more strength into it. I couldn't let go. I wouldn't let go. Right then I made my choice. It was a selfish one, but it was the only one I could make.

If it came it, I could not live with myself if I let Dean go. I would be dead anyway. He was my son. I would never survive losing either one of them.

God! Help me! You owe me! You took my father away from me! I DON'T WANNA DIE! DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE!

"They're over there! Please, help them!" I heard Sammy's voice. Then I heard several heavy footsteps accompanying him.

"Fuck dude! I'll grab him. You two, grab the kid!" an unknown male's voice said. I then felt hands grabbing my waist, holding me in place. On either side of me, two more men reached down and grabbed Dean.

"Sir, you have to let go of him so we can pull him up!" I heard one of the men say. I couldn't will my fingers to release Dean. My brain wouldn't let them.

"Sir, we got him. He's safe. But you have to let go. We won't let him fall."

Slowly, my fingers released their grasp. Whoever was holding me in place pulled me back. I heard Dean screaming in pain as he was raised by the two men who lifted him to safety.

When I saw his body come into view, I was finally able to breathe. I rolled over on my back and looked up at the sky.

"Pops!" Dean cried as he crawled over to me. I wanted to lift my arms and wrap them around him, but they had no more strength in them.

"You're safe son." I said in a hoarse voice that was barely a whisper. Then, I let out a sigh as everything went black.

**************************

Kara narrating:

"EXCUSE ME! CAN SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHERE MY HUSBAND AND MY KIDS ARE?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. The nurse behind the desk gave me an irritated glance as she talked on the phone to whoever was on the other end.

She finally hung up the phone and with a voice that held a professional calmess said, "How can I help you?"

She wasn't being mean or sarcastic. But her tone was completely un-phased by the frantic woman in front of her, who had just been told that she almost lost her husband and her son in some tragic biking accident. This was the worst day of my life, but for her it was Tuesday.

"Yes you can. My husband was brought here along with my two sons. I need to know where they are." The words were coming out of me rapidly. I sounded like the squirrel from "Hoodwinked".

"Name?"

"Kara."

"No miss. His name. Your husband." Her voice was so calm that I wanted to rip it from her throat.

"Tom. Tom Winchester."

She looked through some paper work searching for his name. When found it, she read for a couple of second all the while her entire demeanor changing.

"Oh wow. That guy. Yes, he's in room 120. And you are..."

"Kara Winchester."

"Oh, his wife." I didn't correct her. No need. It was easier than explaining.

Okay! Shut up! I didn't explain because I liked being called his wife. Sue me!

"Yes, you can go right on back sweetie." She said. Her voice was no longer passively professional. It was like she was in awe ever since she read his name.