What Is Twisted Cannot Be Straightened (4/4)
Continued from Part 3
Later, much later, Dean will privately admit that making a deal with Death is not his brightest idea. He’ll even wonder if he’d made the right decision, going after Sam’s soul, knowing how far Jimmy would have gone to get him back. At the time, though, right up until Death agrees to make a wager, Dean believes he’s doing the right thing.
The problem is that Dean isn’t used to having a partner other than his brother. When it was just Sam Dean had to worry about, he just did whatever it took to keep Sam safe. When it was just Jimmy, Dean focused on him. Now, he has to somehow balance keeping them both safe.
And while Sam doesn’t have his soul, Dean isn’t sure he can strike that balance.
Dr. Robert is creepy as hell, as is his assistant, but they do as they promise-Dean dies, and they bring him back, even if he’s dead four minutes longer than expected.
The first thing Dean sees when he opens his eyes is Jimmy’s panicked expression.
“I told you,” Jimmy says furiously, as soon as they leave the doctor’s office. “That was four minutes too long, Dean!”
“He brought me back,” Dean replies. “I’m okay.”
Jimmy frowns. “And what did Death want?”
“He wants me to take his place for a day,” Dean admits reluctantly. “I put the ring on for 24 hours. If I take it off before that, Sam doesn’t get his soul back. If I make it a full day, Sam gets his soul back, and Death puts a wall up that prevents Sam from going completely nuts.”
“Forever?” Jimmy asks.
Dean winces. “No, probably not, but this is our best shot.”
“Are you going to tell Sam what you’re doing?” Jimmy asks.
“We’re going to have to corral him,” Dean admits. “Death can go anywhere, but I think we probably need to keep an eye on Sam before and after.”
Jimmy rubs his eyes, but then he says, “Bobby and I will deal with Sam. You focus on this deal with Death.”
Dean hands Jimmy the car keys. “You’d probably better drive. I’m not sure I’m steady yet.” When Jimmy frowns, Dean adds, “And no, I don’t need you to heal me. I need you to conserve your strength.”
“I came close to trying to bring you back,” Jimmy admits. “I would have tried if the doctor hadn’t succeeded.”
Dean slides into the passenger seat and waits for Jimmy to start the car before he says, “I’m glad you didn’t try. I don’t know what Death would do if he thought you were challenging him.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” Jimmy replies. He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “If you do this, I don’t think I can help you.”
Dean nods and glances out the window at the passing scenery. Most of the trees are bare now, and the fields are stubbled with mown-over cornstalks. Winter is coming, and Dean wonders what his life will look like when Christmas comes around. “I know you can’t. I’ll be okay.”
He wants to believe that; Dean wants to believe that he’s going to get Sam’s soul back, that he’ll have his brother and Jimmy.
“I meant what I said, Dean,” Jimmy says quietly. “I can’t do this without you.”
Dean reaches over and curls a hand around the back of Jimmy’s neck. “I’ll get through this. I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Jimmy replies.
~~~~~
Bobby has a similar reaction when Dean tells him about the plan. “I think you’re an idjit,” he says, “but I think it’s a good idea to get that ring back where it belongs. I haven’t felt comfortable having it in the salvage yard.”
“I need you and Jimmy to get Sam here,” Dean says.
Bobby waves a hand. “You leave that to us, boy. You just deal with Death.”
Dean is honestly torn. He doesn’t like the idea of starting the clock without knowing where Sam is, but at the same time, he doesn’t know how Sam is going to react to having his soul shoved back inside him.
Dean thinks it might be better if Sam doesn’t know what’s coming.
“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean replies.
Jimmy accompanies Dean when he digs up Death’s ring. Dean holds it in his hand, and it feels heavier than he remembers. Jimmy grabs Dean’s jacket, hauling him close, kissing Dean roughly, insistently. “I’ll see you later,” Jimmy promises.
“Yeah, you will,” Dean agrees. “Hold that thought for me.”
“Remember what I said,” Jimmy says.
“Don’t worry about me,” Dean replies, and slides the ring on his finger.
And then he’s Death, and Tessa is antagonistic and clearly impatient. Where Dean would have tried to charm her once, now he just wants to get through the next twenty-four hours-he wants to get Sam’s soul back and return to Jimmy and that unfulfilled promise. He wants to know if Bobby-and Jimmy-managed to get Sam to come to Sioux Falls, and how that went down.
He doesn’t want to kill a kid.
In the end, though, Dean doesn’t have a choice. He takes the ring off to save the nurse’s husband, because that’s his fault, and he has to make it right, even if it means losing his chance to save Sam. And he has to play Death to the little girl, because to do otherwise means Dean will have more blood on his hands.
At least he’s still got Jimmy, Dean thinks as he removes the ring for the last time. He remembers another girl, running down a sun-washed field, and supposes he ought to be grateful that he hadn’t needed to kill someone he knew. He has no idea what he’d have done if Jimmy or Claire or Bobby had been one of the victims.
Dean walks into Bobby’s house to find Jimmy and Bobby sitting in the study. Jimmy’s face is bruised, and they’re both nursing drinks. “What happened?” he demands.
Jimmy grimaces and takes a sip, leaving Bobby to reply, “Your brother decided he didn’t want his soul back. We persuaded him to stick around.”
“Where is he?” Dean asks.
“In the panic room,” Bobby replies. “Unconscious. I hate to say it, Dean, but Sam’s a damn menace right now.”
“I know,” Dean replies.
Jimmy meets Dean’s eyes for the first time since Dean had arrived. “You’re back early,” Jimmy observes.
“Yeah, well, it was a little tougher than I thought it would be,” Dean admits. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Just-not now, huh?”
Jimmy pours another couple of fingers of Jim Beam and hands the glass to Dean. “Here.”
Dean swallows it in one go and returns the glass. “I’m going to check on Sam. I’ll be right back.”
When he peers through the opening in the door, Sam is unconscious and handcuffed to the bed. Dean closes it up and pats his pocket, feeling the outline of Death’s ring through the denim, wondering when he can expect Death to show up to retrieve it.
He heads to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat before he has to share the whole story with the others. The last thing Dean expects is to find Death eating a bacon dog at the table in Bobby’s study.
“Dean. Join me.” He slides a foil-wrapped package across the table towards Dean. “Brought you one from a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs.”
Dean blinks. “What’s it with you and cheap food?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Death replies evenly. “Thought I’d have a treat before I put the ring back on. Heavier than it looks, isn’t it? Sometimes you just want the thing off-but you know that.”
Dean stares down at the floor sullenly, feeling the sting of his failure and hating Death’s knowing words. He has no idea what to say.
Death sighs impatiently. “Sit down, Dean.”
Dean does as he’s asked, a bitter taste in his mouth as he prepares to admit defeat. He doesn’t touch the bacon dog; instead, he sets the ring on the table and nudges it towards Death. “I think you know that I sucked at being you,” he begins.
Death listens to Dean’s confession with an absolutely implacable expression. When Dean is done, Death asks, “So, if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl, no fuss, no stomping your feet?”
“Knowing what I know now, yeah,” Dean replies, and once again is thankful that he hadn’t been asked to kill someone he knew.
“I’m surprised to hear that. Surprised, and glad.” Dean doesn’t reply, and Death says, “Today you got a look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order isn’t so much fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it?”
Dean swallows, a sudden fear overtaking him. “What about Jimmy?” he blurts out, and curses himself in the next breath. He hadn’t meant to throw Jimmy under the bus, but if Death will be coming after Jimmy because he’s fucking up fate or destiny or the natural order, or what-the-fuck-ever, Dean wants to know now.
Not that there’s much Dean can do about it. He can’t stop Death; he knows that now. But maybe he can convince Death to leave Jimmy alone if Jimmy stops healing the dying.
Death raises an eyebrow. “What’s this? Are you concerned about someone other than your brother?”
“That’s low,” Dean spits out before he can think better of the words. “Jimmy’s my friend.”
Death gives him a sharp look, and Dean glances away uncomfortably. “You were willing to wreck the natural order for Sam,” he begins. “What if I were to tell you that Jimmy is doing the same? What then?”
Dean swallows. “I’d say take me instead.”
“You throw away your life because you believe it will bounce back into your lap,” Death observes. “As it turns out, however, your Mr. Novak is a special case. There is a place within the natural order for miracles, even if they are uncommon these days.”
Dean shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Death replies cryptically. “Do you know what the stigmata are?”
“They’re a religious thing, right?”
“At one point, they were considered a mark of great favor. Mr. Novak might dispute that distinction, but it is still true.” Death leans back in his chair and regards Dean steadily. “When Mr. Novak heals someone, he acts in accordance with the natural order, much the same way one of the creatures you hunt acts within the natural order when it kills someone, or as you do when you save someone.”
Dean has a feeling that Jimmy isn’t going to like that explanation if Dean ever passes it along. “You’re saying God did this to him?”
Death shrugs. “So it would seem. Unlike you, Dean, he has accepted his place in the world. You could learn a thing or two from him.”
“I already have,” Dean replies.
“Not enough,” Death says coldly. “The soul is not a rubber ball. It’s vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. It’s more valuable than you can imagine. So, I think you’ve learned something today.”
Dean shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue, because he can’t find a way to dispute Death’s statement without admitting he would have still tried to save Jimmy, or even Claire. He’d still try to cheat Death; he’s just less likely to believe he’ll get away with it.
Death nods, as though he’s reading Dean’s mind and he doesn’t care. “Now, I’m off to hell to get your brother’s soul.”
Dean’s head comes up, and he stares at Death. “Wait, why?”
“Because right now, you’re digging at something. The intrepid detective,” Death replies. “I want you to keep digging, Dean.”
“So you’re just going to be cryptic, or-”
“It’s about the souls,” Death says. “You’ll understand when you need to.”
Death picks up his ring and begins to slide it on his finger.
“Wait,” Dean objects. “What about Sam? Is this wall thing really going to work?”
Death smiles thinly. “Call it 75%,” he says, just before he slides the ring on the rest of the way and disappears.
Before Dean can call for Bobby to check on Sam, Jimmy enters the study. “Hey, I thought I heard you here. What’s up?”
“Death is going to put Sam’s soul back in him,” Dean explains briefly. “I need to see Bobby.”
“He went to check on Sam,” Jimmy replies.
Dean heads for the panic room, calling Bobby’s name. “Bobby! Death is putting Sam’s soul back in!”
By the time Bobby gets the door open, Sam is thrashing on the bed, saying, “No, please don’t do this.”
Dean steels himself, knowing that he can’t break, that Sam has to get his soul back, no matter how much it hurts, no matter the risks.
Because the risks associated with Sam being without his soul are a lot greater.
“Dean, no!” Sam shouts. “Please! Dean!”
When he screams, Dean makes himself watch, because it’s his duty, and he owes Sam that much.
Sam goes limp, and Dean moves forward to check Sam’s pulse; it’s strong and steady under his fingers. “Sam?” Dean calls softly. “Hey, Sammy.”
There’s no response, and Bobby says gently, “We don’t know what happened when his soul got shoved back inside him. Maybe we’d better let him sleep it off. If he doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll call in reinforcements.”
Dean doesn’t see another option, and he’s not sure who they’d call besides. “Yeah, okay.”
“He hasn’t slept in over a year,” Jimmy points out from the doorway. “He might need to do some catching up.”
The explanation makes a certain kind of sense, and Dean wants to believe it, which is probably more to the point.
“Go,” Bobby insists. “I’ll take first watch down here.”
Dean can’t find it in himself to argue, and he follows Jimmy back up to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” Jimmy asks. “There are leftovers.”
Dean nods. “Yeah, that would be great.”
“Sit.” Jimmy nudges Dean toward a chair. “I’ve got it.”
The silence that hangs between them is heavy with the information that Death doled out. Dean doesn’t want to say anything, but at the same time, he’s tried to keep secrets in the past, and it’s never turned out well.
“Death told me something about your stigmata,” Dean says. “Do you want to hear it?”
Jimmy freezes, and then says, “Might as well.”
“He said you’re a part of the natural order.” Dean hesitates and adds, “He said the stigmata were from God.”
Jimmy still has his back to Dean, facing the microwave, where Dean’s meal is heating up. He laughs, but the sound is mirthless. “So, I guess the nun was right.”
Dean doesn’t know what Jimmy’s referring to at first, and then he remembers the nun in Kansas, who was the first to call the stigmata a blessing to Jimmy’s face. “I don’t know,” Dean admits. “Maybe she was.”
“Kind of makes you wonder what sort of a god would do this, and not just-” Jimmy stops, seeming to catch himself, and the microwave beeps. “The chili is good.”
“I’m sure it is,” Dean says, and accepts the bowl. He stares down into it. “I don’t suppose you talked to Bobby about having Claire here for Christmas.”
Jimmy frowns. “I didn’t think you’d still want to. With everything that’s been going on-”
“All the more reason to do it,” Dean counters. “If Amelia agrees, we should try it. Maybe we could even get a tree.”
Jimmy smiles. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean insists. “Jimmy-” He wants to tell Jimmy about the girl, about killing her, because there had been no other choice. Dean wants to say that he has no idea what he would have done if it had been Jimmy whose number had been up, or Claire in that hospital bed.
Dean wants to say how grateful he is to have Jimmy here, sitting across from him, and in one piece right now.
Any of that might change tomorrow; all of it might change. And the day that Jimmy finally buys it because he’s tried to heal one person too many, or the day Dean throws his life away and it sticks-
Well, Dean knows that will pretty much be the end of the other.
He doesn’t know how to say any of that, though.
Instead, Dean reaches across the table and grips Jimmy’s hand tightly, as though he’s hanging on to a lifeline.
Jimmy smiles and puts his free hand over Dean’s. “Thanks for coming back,” he says quietly.
Dean smiles. “Thanks for being here when I did.”
“Always,” Jimmy promises, squeezing tightly.
Dean thinks about that unfulfilled promise, about Jimmy’s warm mouth. He thinks about how hard Jimmy tries, every day, and how empty his world had been when Jimmy wasn’t there. Dean asks, “Remember that promise?”
Jimmy smiles, relief in his eyes. “Absolutely.”
And for the moment, Dean thinks, that promise is enough.
Later, much later, Dean will privately admit that making a deal with Death is not his brightest idea. He’ll even wonder if he’d made the right decision, going after Sam’s soul, knowing how far Jimmy would have gone to get him back. At the time, though, right up until Death agrees to make a wager, Dean believes he’s doing the right thing.
The problem is that Dean isn’t used to having a partner other than his brother. When it was just Sam Dean had to worry about, he just did whatever it took to keep Sam safe. When it was just Jimmy, Dean focused on him. Now, he has to somehow balance keeping them both safe.
And while Sam doesn’t have his soul, Dean isn’t sure he can strike that balance.
Dr. Robert is creepy as hell, as is his assistant, but they do as they promise-Dean dies, and they bring him back, even if he’s dead four minutes longer than expected.
The first thing Dean sees when he opens his eyes is Jimmy’s panicked expression.
“I told you,” Jimmy says furiously, as soon as they leave the doctor’s office. “That was four minutes too long, Dean!”
“He brought me back,” Dean replies. “I’m okay.”
Jimmy frowns. “And what did Death want?”
“He wants me to take his place for a day,” Dean admits reluctantly. “I put the ring on for 24 hours. If I take it off before that, Sam doesn’t get his soul back. If I make it a full day, Sam gets his soul back, and Death puts a wall up that prevents Sam from going completely nuts.”
“Forever?” Jimmy asks.
Dean winces. “No, probably not, but this is our best shot.”
“Are you going to tell Sam what you’re doing?” Jimmy asks.
“We’re going to have to corral him,” Dean admits. “Death can go anywhere, but I think we probably need to keep an eye on Sam before and after.”
Jimmy rubs his eyes, but then he says, “Bobby and I will deal with Sam. You focus on this deal with Death.”
Dean hands Jimmy the car keys. “You’d probably better drive. I’m not sure I’m steady yet.” When Jimmy frowns, Dean adds, “And no, I don’t need you to heal me. I need you to conserve your strength.”
“I came close to trying to bring you back,” Jimmy admits. “I would have tried if the doctor hadn’t succeeded.”
Dean slides into the passenger seat and waits for Jimmy to start the car before he says, “I’m glad you didn’t try. I don’t know what Death would do if he thought you were challenging him.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” Jimmy replies. He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “If you do this, I don’t think I can help you.”
Dean nods and glances out the window at the passing scenery. Most of the trees are bare now, and the fields are stubbled with mown-over cornstalks. Winter is coming, and Dean wonders what his life will look like when Christmas comes around. “I know you can’t. I’ll be okay.”
He wants to believe that; Dean wants to believe that he’s going to get Sam’s soul back, that he’ll have his brother and Jimmy.
“I meant what I said, Dean,” Jimmy says quietly. “I can’t do this without you.”
Dean reaches over and curls a hand around the back of Jimmy’s neck. “I’ll get through this. I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Jimmy replies.
~~~~~
Bobby has a similar reaction when Dean tells him about the plan. “I think you’re an idjit,” he says, “but I think it’s a good idea to get that ring back where it belongs. I haven’t felt comfortable having it in the salvage yard.”
“I need you and Jimmy to get Sam here,” Dean says.
Bobby waves a hand. “You leave that to us, boy. You just deal with Death.”
Dean is honestly torn. He doesn’t like the idea of starting the clock without knowing where Sam is, but at the same time, he doesn’t know how Sam is going to react to having his soul shoved back inside him.
Dean thinks it might be better if Sam doesn’t know what’s coming.
“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean replies.
Jimmy accompanies Dean when he digs up Death’s ring. Dean holds it in his hand, and it feels heavier than he remembers. Jimmy grabs Dean’s jacket, hauling him close, kissing Dean roughly, insistently. “I’ll see you later,” Jimmy promises.
“Yeah, you will,” Dean agrees. “Hold that thought for me.”
“Remember what I said,” Jimmy says.
“Don’t worry about me,” Dean replies, and slides the ring on his finger.
And then he’s Death, and Tessa is antagonistic and clearly impatient. Where Dean would have tried to charm her once, now he just wants to get through the next twenty-four hours-he wants to get Sam’s soul back and return to Jimmy and that unfulfilled promise. He wants to know if Bobby-and Jimmy-managed to get Sam to come to Sioux Falls, and how that went down.
He doesn’t want to kill a kid.
In the end, though, Dean doesn’t have a choice. He takes the ring off to save the nurse’s husband, because that’s his fault, and he has to make it right, even if it means losing his chance to save Sam. And he has to play Death to the little girl, because to do otherwise means Dean will have more blood on his hands.
At least he’s still got Jimmy, Dean thinks as he removes the ring for the last time. He remembers another girl, running down a sun-washed field, and supposes he ought to be grateful that he hadn’t needed to kill someone he knew. He has no idea what he’d have done if Jimmy or Claire or Bobby had been one of the victims.
Dean walks into Bobby’s house to find Jimmy and Bobby sitting in the study. Jimmy’s face is bruised, and they’re both nursing drinks. “What happened?” he demands.
Jimmy grimaces and takes a sip, leaving Bobby to reply, “Your brother decided he didn’t want his soul back. We persuaded him to stick around.”
“Where is he?” Dean asks.
“In the panic room,” Bobby replies. “Unconscious. I hate to say it, Dean, but Sam’s a damn menace right now.”
“I know,” Dean replies.
Jimmy meets Dean’s eyes for the first time since Dean had arrived. “You’re back early,” Jimmy observes.
“Yeah, well, it was a little tougher than I thought it would be,” Dean admits. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Just-not now, huh?”
Jimmy pours another couple of fingers of Jim Beam and hands the glass to Dean. “Here.”
Dean swallows it in one go and returns the glass. “I’m going to check on Sam. I’ll be right back.”
When he peers through the opening in the door, Sam is unconscious and handcuffed to the bed. Dean closes it up and pats his pocket, feeling the outline of Death’s ring through the denim, wondering when he can expect Death to show up to retrieve it.
He heads to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat before he has to share the whole story with the others. The last thing Dean expects is to find Death eating a bacon dog at the table in Bobby’s study.
“Dean. Join me.” He slides a foil-wrapped package across the table towards Dean. “Brought you one from a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs.”
Dean blinks. “What’s it with you and cheap food?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Death replies evenly. “Thought I’d have a treat before I put the ring back on. Heavier than it looks, isn’t it? Sometimes you just want the thing off-but you know that.”
Dean stares down at the floor sullenly, feeling the sting of his failure and hating Death’s knowing words. He has no idea what to say.
Death sighs impatiently. “Sit down, Dean.”
Dean does as he’s asked, a bitter taste in his mouth as he prepares to admit defeat. He doesn’t touch the bacon dog; instead, he sets the ring on the table and nudges it towards Death. “I think you know that I sucked at being you,” he begins.
Death listens to Dean’s confession with an absolutely implacable expression. When Dean is done, Death asks, “So, if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl, no fuss, no stomping your feet?”
“Knowing what I know now, yeah,” Dean replies, and once again is thankful that he hadn’t been asked to kill someone he knew.
“I’m surprised to hear that. Surprised, and glad.” Dean doesn’t reply, and Death says, “Today you got a look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order isn’t so much fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it?”
Dean swallows, a sudden fear overtaking him. “What about Jimmy?” he blurts out, and curses himself in the next breath. He hadn’t meant to throw Jimmy under the bus, but if Death will be coming after Jimmy because he’s fucking up fate or destiny or the natural order, or what-the-fuck-ever, Dean wants to know now.
Not that there’s much Dean can do about it. He can’t stop Death; he knows that now. But maybe he can convince Death to leave Jimmy alone if Jimmy stops healing the dying.
Death raises an eyebrow. “What’s this? Are you concerned about someone other than your brother?”
“That’s low,” Dean spits out before he can think better of the words. “Jimmy’s my friend.”
Death gives him a sharp look, and Dean glances away uncomfortably. “You were willing to wreck the natural order for Sam,” he begins. “What if I were to tell you that Jimmy is doing the same? What then?”
Dean swallows. “I’d say take me instead.”
“You throw away your life because you believe it will bounce back into your lap,” Death observes. “As it turns out, however, your Mr. Novak is a special case. There is a place within the natural order for miracles, even if they are uncommon these days.”
Dean shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Death replies cryptically. “Do you know what the stigmata are?”
“They’re a religious thing, right?”
“At one point, they were considered a mark of great favor. Mr. Novak might dispute that distinction, but it is still true.” Death leans back in his chair and regards Dean steadily. “When Mr. Novak heals someone, he acts in accordance with the natural order, much the same way one of the creatures you hunt acts within the natural order when it kills someone, or as you do when you save someone.”
Dean has a feeling that Jimmy isn’t going to like that explanation if Dean ever passes it along. “You’re saying God did this to him?”
Death shrugs. “So it would seem. Unlike you, Dean, he has accepted his place in the world. You could learn a thing or two from him.”
“I already have,” Dean replies.
“Not enough,” Death says coldly. “The soul is not a rubber ball. It’s vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. It’s more valuable than you can imagine. So, I think you’ve learned something today.”
Dean shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue, because he can’t find a way to dispute Death’s statement without admitting he would have still tried to save Jimmy, or even Claire. He’d still try to cheat Death; he’s just less likely to believe he’ll get away with it.
Death nods, as though he’s reading Dean’s mind and he doesn’t care. “Now, I’m off to hell to get your brother’s soul.”
Dean’s head comes up, and he stares at Death. “Wait, why?”
“Because right now, you’re digging at something. The intrepid detective,” Death replies. “I want you to keep digging, Dean.”
“So you’re just going to be cryptic, or-”
“It’s about the souls,” Death says. “You’ll understand when you need to.”
Death picks up his ring and begins to slide it on his finger.
“Wait,” Dean objects. “What about Sam? Is this wall thing really going to work?”
Death smiles thinly. “Call it 75%,” he says, just before he slides the ring on the rest of the way and disappears.
Before Dean can call for Bobby to check on Sam, Jimmy enters the study. “Hey, I thought I heard you here. What’s up?”
“Death is going to put Sam’s soul back in him,” Dean explains briefly. “I need to see Bobby.”
“He went to check on Sam,” Jimmy replies.
Dean heads for the panic room, calling Bobby’s name. “Bobby! Death is putting Sam’s soul back in!”
By the time Bobby gets the door open, Sam is thrashing on the bed, saying, “No, please don’t do this.”
Dean steels himself, knowing that he can’t break, that Sam has to get his soul back, no matter how much it hurts, no matter the risks.
Because the risks associated with Sam being without his soul are a lot greater.
“Dean, no!” Sam shouts. “Please! Dean!”
When he screams, Dean makes himself watch, because it’s his duty, and he owes Sam that much.
Sam goes limp, and Dean moves forward to check Sam’s pulse; it’s strong and steady under his fingers. “Sam?” Dean calls softly. “Hey, Sammy.”
There’s no response, and Bobby says gently, “We don’t know what happened when his soul got shoved back inside him. Maybe we’d better let him sleep it off. If he doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll call in reinforcements.”
Dean doesn’t see another option, and he’s not sure who they’d call besides. “Yeah, okay.”
“He hasn’t slept in over a year,” Jimmy points out from the doorway. “He might need to do some catching up.”
The explanation makes a certain kind of sense, and Dean wants to believe it, which is probably more to the point.
“Go,” Bobby insists. “I’ll take first watch down here.”
Dean can’t find it in himself to argue, and he follows Jimmy back up to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” Jimmy asks. “There are leftovers.”
Dean nods. “Yeah, that would be great.”
“Sit.” Jimmy nudges Dean toward a chair. “I’ve got it.”
The silence that hangs between them is heavy with the information that Death doled out. Dean doesn’t want to say anything, but at the same time, he’s tried to keep secrets in the past, and it’s never turned out well.
“Death told me something about your stigmata,” Dean says. “Do you want to hear it?”
Jimmy freezes, and then says, “Might as well.”
“He said you’re a part of the natural order.” Dean hesitates and adds, “He said the stigmata were from God.”
Jimmy still has his back to Dean, facing the microwave, where Dean’s meal is heating up. He laughs, but the sound is mirthless. “So, I guess the nun was right.”
Dean doesn’t know what Jimmy’s referring to at first, and then he remembers the nun in Kansas, who was the first to call the stigmata a blessing to Jimmy’s face. “I don’t know,” Dean admits. “Maybe she was.”
“Kind of makes you wonder what sort of a god would do this, and not just-” Jimmy stops, seeming to catch himself, and the microwave beeps. “The chili is good.”
“I’m sure it is,” Dean says, and accepts the bowl. He stares down into it. “I don’t suppose you talked to Bobby about having Claire here for Christmas.”
Jimmy frowns. “I didn’t think you’d still want to. With everything that’s been going on-”
“All the more reason to do it,” Dean counters. “If Amelia agrees, we should try it. Maybe we could even get a tree.”
Jimmy smiles. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean insists. “Jimmy-” He wants to tell Jimmy about the girl, about killing her, because there had been no other choice. Dean wants to say that he has no idea what he would have done if it had been Jimmy whose number had been up, or Claire in that hospital bed.
Dean wants to say how grateful he is to have Jimmy here, sitting across from him, and in one piece right now.
Any of that might change tomorrow; all of it might change. And the day that Jimmy finally buys it because he’s tried to heal one person too many, or the day Dean throws his life away and it sticks-
Well, Dean knows that will pretty much be the end of the other.
He doesn’t know how to say any of that, though.
Instead, Dean reaches across the table and grips Jimmy’s hand tightly, as though he’s hanging on to a lifeline.
Jimmy smiles and puts his free hand over Dean’s. “Thanks for coming back,” he says quietly.
Dean smiles. “Thanks for being here when I did.”
“Always,” Jimmy promises, squeezing tightly.
Dean thinks about that unfulfilled promise, about Jimmy’s warm mouth. He thinks about how hard Jimmy tries, every day, and how empty his world had been when Jimmy wasn’t there. Dean asks, “Remember that promise?”
Jimmy smiles, relief in his eyes. “Absolutely.”
And for the moment, Dean thinks, that promise is enough.