Brave and Crazy the final part(S)
Title: Brave and Crazy Part 3
Author: Fanfic_Addict04
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Bobby, OMC's
Warnings: Angst, Drama, Mentions of character death, Wincest
Summary: Third part in the series. Sam will do anything for Dean, he just needs a nudge in the right direction.
Part 1
Part 2
I would stand inside my hell and hold the hand of death
you don't know how far I'd go to ease this precious ache
and you don't know how much I'd give, or how much I can take
just to reach you, just to reach you, oh to reach you.
Air rushed in as glass disappeared around him, and Sam collapsed to the ground, fresh air finally filling his lungs. Braced on all fours, he could still feel the presence of the demon there. Whether it was his psychic ability, or his intuition letting him know this, he didn't know. A moment later it was confirmed.
"Sorry Sammy. As much as that scene just broke my little heart, I had to do it. Look at it this way," She said walking over and crouching beside him, "At least now you won't have to worry about pleasing him anymore. You can go on, marry some girl, have a couple of kids. Everything you ever wanted."
Sam was still catching his breath, but he managed a breathy "Fuck. You. Dean was everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever could have hoped to have. And you took that away from me."
"Correction Sammy. He took that away from you."
And even though demons lie, and he knew that his brother was only thinking about Sam's future, he couldn't help but think that she was right. Even just a little bit, and that, more than the fact that he was alone right now, pissed him off beyond belief. Springing into action he rolled away from her and towards the trunk of the impala. He brought his fist down hard on the metal and the sides cracked open. He threw the top up and snatched up a vial of holy water, throwing it at her.
Sam got a grim sort of satisfaction as the glass made contact and broke on her face and the water burned her skin as her cries of pain rang out. Thinking quickly Sam dove back into the trunk, digging for anything to kill her with. Grabbing up a gun, any gun, he whirled around to find that she had gone.
"NO! DAMN IT! NO!"
She had gone without a sound, without a fight. They both knew that if he would have killed her, all the souls she'd trapped would be released, all contracts null and void. Including Dean's. Wherever he went, he had to fight to get what he wanted. Sam couldn't find the strength to fight anymore, didn't know if he still had it in him. He was so tired of fighting. So tired of getting no where. He threw his head against the car as he knealt down, tears flowing freely down his cheeks now. What could he do? Where could he go from here? He had lost Dean, and with him so many other things: his brother, his lover, his confidant, his best friend, his protector, his everything. How was he supposed to live without Dean?
And that's when it hit him.
He didn't have to.
---
Nathan scowled as he woke up, drenched in a cold sweat for the third time that night. Getting up, he made his way quietly to the bathroom across the hall. He lit the candle there, and bent down on his knees to gather water and wash his face. He sighed, tasting dirt and dust, and looked down at the basin. He'd have to walk out to the field again and collect more water from the spicket that this property and the next shared.
After drying off his face on his shirt, he took it off, walking back to the other room. It couldn't be called a bedroom. It housed a small bare matress with a sack that was stuffed with hay for a pillow. There were two small piles of clothes: one stack jeans and the other shirts. Nathan flopped down onto the matress with another heavy sigh.
It had been another nightmare about Dean that woke him up. All he saw lately were images of Dean being tortured, being ridiculed and taunted, being burnt alive and other unspeakable things. He didn't know whether these were visions or dreams, but he had a feeling that they weren't just your average nightmare.
Dean had asked him to help him find his brother. Sam, was it? So if his visions were true, then where was he now? Why wasn't Sam with him, helping him?
Because. A malicious voice spoke in the night. That's what family does. It abandons you when you most need it. Your family was that way. What makes you think theirs was any different?
"Because Dean wanted to find Sam. If he didn't care about Sam, then he wouldn't have asked me to help find him." Nathan argued aloud.
When there was no response, Nathan smirked, and flopped back onto his 'pillow'. The smirk slid from his face a little as he thought more about what was going on.
'That's the only life I've ever known. It's the only thing I've got.'
'Since then he's learned to deal with the fact that this shitty life? It's ours, and ours to keep, but still he found a little peace...'
'then you'd be welcome in our company any time you like.'
"Well Dean. Whether you're there or not, it's time to get to the bottom of this. I acknowledge your offer to be in your company at any time, and I gladly accept."
With that, Nathan walked across the room and picked out a small bag from his collection of things. He stuffed a few changes of clothes into it and didn't look back as he let the front door slam on his way out.
-----
It was easy enough, Sam thought. He'd just had to find the suitable hideout of a djinn, and then stake it out. Make sure it was the real deal. Once he was absolutely positive, he went in.
Sam laughed a bit, out loud.
This way it was a win win situation. The Djinn could feed, and he could be with Dean. He would die a slow death, one that would take a lifetime inside his wish. He wouldn't have to feel a thing.
He walked in, not even preparing for a fight.
There was no struggle, there was no pain. There was just the Djinn, and his magic. There was his hand, and in it lye Sam's salvation. When his palm descended, he did not fight, he did not plead or beg. He just closed his eyes and smiled. Waiting to be taken. Taken away from this cruel world that had stolen so many things from him. Bereft him all that had ever been dear to his heart.
But the Djinn could change that. He could make Sam believe that this was all just a bad nightmare, and he'd wake up safe in Dean's arms. He anticipated it in fact. Wondering where he would wake up.
Maybe a home. Two story, painted forest green because Dean liked that color. No fence though, just a small yard he could mow in a half hour easily. And maybe their father would be there too. Maybe the world would be changed altoghether and they could love freely, openly.
It didn't matter, Sam decided as he went into the darkness.
As long as he woke up with Dean. As long as he had Dean.
That's what mattered.
------
Nowhere. Nathan was getting nowhere. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to just pack up and head out to find this Sam Winchester, and see exactly just what was going on. After all, Dean had involved him, when he insisted on Nathan helping find Sam. But so far all he'd been doing for the past few hours was walking down the main road out of town, and occasionally sticking his thumb outwards to a passing car.
It was a stupid plan, Nathan knew. He had no clue whatsoever as to where Dean or Sam might be. He didn't even have the slightest hint. No accent, no particular brand of clothing that could help him pinpoint exactly where these Winchester brothers were native to. Still, if he didn't find them soon, his nightmares would drive him crazy. It was a lose-lose situation as far as Nathan could see.
Deflated, he sat down on the edge of the road and sighed deeply. The night was fairly warm, not chilly enough to require a jacket anyhow, and a gentle breeze picked up every so often that reminded Nathan of distant places. Thumbing the rocks laying around his feet he decided to throw one. As it was sailing through the air, he could have swore he saw the slightest hint of red.
Looking down curiously at his hands, he inspected the spectacle before him. His hands were sweaty, or at least a little wet and there....there was blood. Dean's blood, from when he was helping find Sam. Hope sparking back to life in Nathan, he quickly hustled to stand and stared intently at his hands. Rubbing them together, as if in the middle of a blizzard, he was creating friction, which meant heat, which meant perspiration. It would also give him a better chance that the blood would still work. The connection might not be as strong as it was when Dean had been around, but it was better than any plan he'd had thus far.
Starting to move his hands a little faster he felt the slickness of perspiration begin to coat his hands and it mixed with the blood, making it liquid again. He lifted his head skyward and concentrated. He concentrated on the name Sam Winchester and he fought to remember Dean's words as he looked for him.
"Come on Sammy, you can do this. Help us out here. Come on Sammy."
Nathan, flushing a little at what he was doing and how he must look, began whispering.
"Come on Sammy. Help me find you. Sam, your brother needs you. Come on Sam."
Flashes of images filled his head, and he was getting little bits of information through what he was seeing. He could...almost...pinpoint...
"Come on Sam."
-------
"Come on Sammy," a voice cooed him into consciousness. "Come on Sam, wake up!"
The voice was laughter filled now. Lighter than Sam remembered it ever being in it's adult life. Slowly, but surely, he cracked his eyes open and took in his surroundings. Blinking as his pupils adjusted to the sunlight, he sat up. The first thing he registered was Dean. Without thinking about it, he lunged forward from the bed and tackled Dean into a big bear hug.
"Oh god Dean."
"Uh...Sammy...Not that I don't appreciate this little show of affection, but what are you doing?"
"I...nothing, I'm sorry. I just...I thought..."
"Sam, what is it?" Dean asked, genuinely concerned now.
"Nothing," Sam replied, wiping at his eyes "It's nothing."
"Why don't I believe you?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I just...had a bad dream is all."
Immediately Dean's face softened, and he opened his arms, which Sam gratefully fell into.
"Want to tell me about it?"
Sam took the moment to just sit there and smell the mixture of Dean's shampoo and gel. Something he didn't take the time to do before. He resolved right then and there to savor every moment he had with Dean.
'This fake Dean anyway.' a venomous voice retorted.
Sam grimaced and chose to ignore this thought, pushing it forcefully to the back of his mind. He wasn't going to think about that. His other life was just a nightmare now. Just a bad dream. This was what was real now, this place where Dean was alive and the only time they had to drive the impala was to go grocery shopping or to see a movie.
"You had died..." Sam replied quietly; whispered. "You had died and I couldn't do anything to save you."
Emotions swirled in Sam's chest again and he held back tears.
"Sam," Dean said sternly, "Sammy, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about that, alright?"
Sam nodded furiously into Dean's shoulder, not even caring that he had to bend down a little to do so. He'd endure back aches, head aches, even hell to be with Dean again...but there was one tiny question that was nagging at his mind.
In this new universe, were he and Dean lovers, or just brothers? Sure his mind had all been focused on Dean when the Djinn touched him, but there were so many things about Dean that he was to Sam. Which one was he here?
As if in answer to his question, Dean tilted Sam's head to look him in the eye. It was an intense look they shared, in which they conveyed everything, the fear, the love, the hope in Sam's eyes and the reassurance, love and devotion in Dean's. Keeping their eyes open, just like that first night under the stars Sam remembered, their lips met.
It was soft, like a paint brush gliding against it's paper, painting colors in a masterpiece and just so Sam's lips were brushed by Dean's, painting a masterpiece of happiness in his soul. Giving in to the urge to experience the hurricane of feelings driving him, Sam closed his eyes and leaned more forcefully into the union of mouths; of souls.
They broke apart for air and Sam leant his head down on Dean's shoulder. His head bobbed up and down a few seconds later when Dean started to chuckle.
"Something funny?" Sam mumbled
"Just you. You're cute."
Sam looked up at Dean deciding if he was being serious or not. He must've had that look on his face because Dean laughed.
"What? Can't a guy tell his boyfriend he's cute?"
Sam cracked up at that, either the happiness or the insanity getting to his head, and couldn't stop laughing.
"So we're just boyfriends then?"
Dean frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we don't say, 'life partner' or something like that?"
Dean scrunched up his nose at that.
"We already talked about this Sam! 'Life partner' is for lesbians."
Sam only chuckled half-heartedly. Maybe Dean and other world Sam had this discussion, but he didn't remember it. Couldn't.
"Come on," Dean said cheerily and pulled Sam along out of the room, "I know what'll cheer you up. Let's go make dinner."
Sam smiled and let himself be pulled along. He might not remember things that other world Sam would, and maybe this wasn't always his life. But he could get comfortable here. He had Dean with him here. As his brother, lover, and everything in between.
He may not be from this world, but he could definitely make a life in it.
----
The images flooded so fast through his mind he had to spot anything and everything useful in a matter of seconds. There were road signs he could see, and a black car...vintage. He could see a...factory of some sort. An old car parts plant. It was sort of antique, a large building...ratty clothes and dust settling everywhere, hanging from the rafters, as if someone meant to cover the place up and then return and unveil the machines to set back to work again. But no one was there.
Wait. A figure. A male figure by the looks of it's physique...and he was hanging by his wrists. Brown hair that was longer than the style was these days was covering most of the figures face. He was tall. Had to be suspended a couple of inches higher in the air than most.
Suddenly the image zoomed backwards, as if it was a movie that was rewinding. He could see the outside of the factory now, and then to the car, and then further back, towards the dirt roads leading to it...further back still faster and faster, seeing the passing cars, and a road sign...
Texas State Limit: 10 miles.
At that image the backward motion stopped, and zoomed forward again, fast but not as fast as before. As if allowing Nathan to see what Sam was seeing.
Nathan saw the trees that must be indigenous to that area, and the few other street signs that had to be taken. Then, as if it really was a movie, he could see Sam. Getting out of the black vintage car and walking into the building, breaking into a run soon after. He was searching for something it seemed. Someone? Dean maybe.
Then, a creature. God what was that thing? Dean had said there are demons. He didn't really know if he should believe him or not until now. Was this thing a demon? It certainly didn't look red-skinned and horned. No, this creature was more mystical. Had blue skin, and intricate designs etched in a darker blue into him. His hair, black, was pulled into a pony tail and that was the only sign that it had hair. His eyes were the main attraction though. It had blue eyes, glowing even more brightly as he placed his hand on Sam, and as Sam gasped and the Djinn caught his limp body, Nathan returned to his...with a splitting headache.
"Shit!" Nathan cursed, falling to the ground, grabbing his head. It was just like after his nightmares, except he had initiated this, and now the headache felt like a ten-ton safe had crushed his skull and then doctors had pieced it back together.
Scrambling to stand, still clutching his head, Nathan leant forward into the road with his thumb sticking up. He had to get to Texas. He had to save Sam from that...thing.
For all Nathan knew, Sam had been trying to save Dean and the creature was there to stop him. He was going to hitch a ride, somehow save Sam, and then get him to explain what the hell was going.
A horn blared and lights blinded him for a moment, and Nathan leapt backwards to avoid being hit.
"Damn it!"
Again he stepped out onto the road and tried again, his arm extended. He could see the headlights before he could see the car, and as much as it hurt his eyes to do it, he focused on the lights and then stepped out directly onto the road waving his arms about.
He didn't want to scream help, knowing it would only make his headache that much worse, but his body language was undeniable.
"You alright kid?"
Nathan made himself seem out of breath and responded, "Yeah, I need you to get me to the Texas State Limit. Please, more than one life depends on it."
- - -
"Mmm."
a pause.
"MMMM."
"That's the sauce."
"God Dean where did you learn to cook like this?" Sam asked putting his fork back on his plate where it sat on the carpet. They were in the living room of their beautiful house exactly like Sam imagined, and candles adorned every flat surface around them as they shared a romantic dinner.
"Uh Sammy, I know the food is good, but I didn't know it could cause temporary amnesia." Dean chuckled, "I went to culinary school in france for a year, remember Sam? You called every night begging to know what I was doing."
Dean leant forward, whispering.
"Begging for me to come home and fuck you so hard you'd forget I was ever gone."
Sam shivered and then swallowed hard. He grabbed his wine glass and took a big drink. "Did you?"
Dean leaned back and snorted. "Of course. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?"
"A damn sexy one." Sam grinned and leaned forward to capture Dean's lips in a kiss.
"Damn right." he replied smugly, then hesitantly, "You really don't remember that night?"
Sam only faltered for a second, and then recovered.
"How could I remember if you fucked me so hard I forgot?"
Dean chuckled at that, and then Sam seductively held Dean's chin in place and made eye contact.
"Maybe we should have a repeat performance...you know...to jog my memory."
Dean smirked, "I like the way you think Mr. Winchester."
Sam snorted and got up off of the floor helping Dean up as well. "That's because it's the same exact way that you think."
Dean wiggled his ass in front of Sam's face as he was going up the steps, and Sam stopped, looking around the room.
"You go on ahead, I'll meet you up there."
Dean pouted in the hallway, doing his best at the wounded puppy look.
Sam just chuckled.
"I've got somethings I have to do, and they can't wait! Go on!"
"Fine," Dean murmured and stomped his feet going into their room, "But you owe me at least....three blowjobs for this."
Sam winced.
"In a row!" Dean yelled down.
His jaw was already aching.
But he had to find out what else he didn't know. What did they do for a living? Who was paying for this house? Dean went to culinary school? What other ventures did they get into.
Sam began at what looked like a work desk they had set up near the dining room. It had envelopes, pens, a calculator. Yeah, this is definitely where they did their bills. Sam looked through a stack sitting in the center of things, and read through the addresses. Electric company, Water company, cable company, wedding announcement...getting bored, Sam tried looking for something else that would indicate what they did for a living.
Sam opened the drawer that was located in the center of the desk. It had a checkbook, a few pens, and a calculator. He opened up the checkbook at a page that was dog-eared with a piece of paper. Curious, he took out the page marker and saw it was a pay stub. $1200 - Derchi's. Must be some sort of restaurant or clothing retail store. But since Dean said he went to culinary school, Sam could only conclude that it was a restaurant. Sam looked up to see a calendar marked with dates. Every friday was marked with 'Payday - D'.
"Shit." Sam smiled, "Dean gets paid 1200 a week."
Scanning the rest of the page, he saw that he only got paid every other week. Sam tried with out luck to get more information. He sighed in frustration, and then sat down at the little desk. With his eyes covering his hands there should have been complete darkness around him. But there was a flashing red light coming from somewhere in the corner. He looked and saw a cordless phone with an answering machine sitting not two feet away from him.
He hit the 'play' button and an enthusiastic voice filled the room at once.
"Hey Sam, it's Jerry. Listen I need you to come down to the book store for a little while on Sunday. I know, I know! That's your and Dean's day, but with the new Harry Potter book coming out, I'm going to need all of my managers there. Including you. So call me back please, and let me know if the ball and chain lets you go."
Sam sighed. Well at least it was something he liked dealing with: books and people. He was a manager so it couldn't be that bad, right?
Going up the stairs after having blown out all the candles, he went to pay his debts.
---
"Thanks," Nathan said nervously, grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. "I...I don't have any money."
"It's okay kid, there's still a little good left in the world. I hope whoever you came for is alright."
"Thanks." Nathan repeated and then shut the door before waiting on the side of the road for the car to drive off.
He was stopped right outside the road sign that said that he was ten miles from the Texas State limit. That meant that all he had to do was remember which direction to go, and he would find Sam, whether alive or dead he did not know, but he had to try. If he could get to Sam, then he could find out what happened to Dean. Why he was having these stupid nightmares, and once they were safe he could go back to his quiet life away from the city and away from people.
Nathan sighed, walking briskly. He looked up at the sky for a moment as if hoping to find some answers in the twinkling stars above him that seemed so wrong on a night like this. Didn't they know there were such things as that creature he had seen out there? Didn't the stars know that there were demons and evil that lurked above the levels of hell?
Among the many things he hoped to achieve tonight, gaining more knowledge was a main priority. How did Sam and Dean know about this stuff? Would he be able to protect himself?
Walking a little faster and then breaking into a light jog, he neared an area that looked familiar to him. His vision had shown him these exact trees along the roads leading to the factory. He looked at the reflective blue signs that were lining the side roads. When he was having his vision it was too fast for him to catch which one Sam had turned on. Trying to remember, he replayed the vision from his memory, and counted what he thought was the right number of road signs pass before he would turn.
The third one on the left, a mile after the 'Ten Miles to the Border' sign...that's where he was at. Nathan couldn't be 100% positive, but it was the only lead he had. Going into a full out run, he went in the direction of the factory.
Seeing the double doors that were rusted with age and marred with broken glass, Nathan went inside and cautiously peered around. He knew he had to find Sam, but now he had that...that creature to look out for. He was quiet, for him anyway. Being alone all day every day, meant silence all day everyday. If he hadn't learnt to be as quiet as the silence long ago, he would've driven himself mad with the noise. He carried all his weight on his legs and not on his feet, making it seem as if he were walking on air.
The factory wasn't too confusing to get around. It had the long flowing cloth up that made it difficult to see around everywhere, but he could still pretty much tell where he was at. If he saw the high part of the ceiling he was by the conveyer belts, and if not, then he was near the offices. Nathan stopped and squinted his eyes, trying to remember where he saw Sam hanging, in his vision.
A door, small and nondescript, flashed in his mind. His knees flared with pain as they hit cement floor and the vision flooded his mind. He could see the door and then it flashed again and he could see Sam behind it, as if with X-ray vision, hanging by his wrists just as before. Opening his eyes as little as possible while still being able to see, he looked around again. With another dose of pain adding to his splitting headache he rose to his feet, pushing himself up. He didn't bother brushing off the dirt on his hands or clothes, he was used to such conditions.
Stumbling he looked for that same door, hoping Sam was still alive. Suddenly he heard noise, over there. Quickly he whirled in the direction. Nothing. Another sound! Over here this time. Again, whirling around he tried to spot the source of the noise and couldn't spot it. Nathan fell to his knees and began crawling, like a child, across the floor to find cover under one of the conveyer belts and sat cross legged with his arms over his head.. He didn't know what it would do to protect him any magic the creature might have, but he couldn't see where it was.
Rocking back and forth, he tried to figure out what he should do.
"Something of Sam's." Nathan whispered to himself. Repeating it like a mantra.
Again he looked to the blood on his hands for guidance. There was none.
"Shit." He cursed softly. It must've rubbed off during his last vision, when he had used it to channel Sam's location.
Maybe...they were close, in the same building at least...if he could channel his location then surely he could channel Sam himself. Closing his eyes, ignoring the pain already there in his mind, he concentrated hard on Sam. On everything he knew about him, on his location, Sam. Intense blinding pain made him lift his head up, and his eyes roll back.
As if the warehouse were the dream, suddenly he was transported into this other place, a world he didn't know.
- -
Part 4