Meeting in Samarra 1/6
Title: Meeting in Samarra
Author: mulkentertain
Rating: PG
Word count: 15.573 words
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Spoilers up to 6x11, my take on what I thought 6x12 might have been before it aired. So obviously totally AU ever since then.
Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.
Author's Note: I wrote this back when Episode 6x11 aired and posted it over the following weeks on ff.net If for some reason you prefer to read it there, go ahead. It is exactly the same on both websides (except for another round of spell check for this one right here). But since I have a Lj now I thought I might as well post it here.
Prelude
Dean had moved heaven and hell to get to this point. Most of the time more literally than he would have liked. Had turned every stone he could find to get Sam back. The real Sam. Not this soulless, remorseless substitute that wore his brother's face and memories to the prom.
A minute ago, when Death had agreed to spring the lost soul from the cage, Dean had been one hundred percent certain of his undertakings. But now that the moment was finally here, he felt something unexpected.
Doubt.
Creeping up his spine, nagging it's way into every fibre of his mind.
The bliss and relief that flowed through him at the sight of Sam's blindingly blazing essence had soon be replaced with fear. Triggered by the same fear he could see in his brother's eyes, as the Horseman inched closer towards the cot. It was the closest thing to a true emotion that had ever crossed the younger hunter's face since his escape from hell. Dean had been watching him for months now. Living side by side with a shadow of what the younger man used to be. An emotionless thing, barely human, apart from the appearance. He had been searching for that little glimmer of humanity, a sign that there was actually something in there.
Suddenly witnessing this raw and heart wrenching hysteria screaming out of those hazel eyes nearly floored him.
"No...you don't know...You don't know what will happen to me. Dean, please!" Sam's voice was pulling on him, begging him to stop. The bound man's chest heaved with the panic that radiated off him in waves. Dean's eyes widened, body frozen where he stood. Sam fought desperately against his restrains as Death leaned closer, the shinning soul clasped tightly in his bony fingers.
"No, no!" The shouting had turned into breathy pleas. It took all the strength Dean could muster not to step in. His instincts screamed at him to help Sam, to protect him, no matter how little of his brother was left in this shell.
The doubts clawed their way through his veins, like a poison, that was burning his insides with freezing ice water.
What if his brother was right? What if the wall wouldn't hold? What if he in his stubbornness just destroyed Sam's only chance of living by following through with his plan?
No.
He couldn't go back. Not now.
Sam wouldn't have wanted to live like this.
HE didn't want him to live like this.
The moment the Grim-Reaper plunged his fist into the young man's chest Sam's eyes shot open, a bloodcurdling scream ripping from his throat. His head snapped back, veins popped out from the exertion and pain. Dean's fingers dug into the hard metal door frame as he watched the man's body spasm in agony, far worse than when Cas had tried to locate his soul in the first place.
All of a sudden the noise stopped, sucked from the room when Sam's convulsing body went slack on the narrow cot.
Dean was too afraid to move, even to breathe. In the back of his mind he noticed Bobby's rigid presence next to him, but all his focus was on his brother, searching for a sign of life in the familiar features.
"Did it work?" he finally managed to rasp out.
Death simply nodded his head, unsettling calm as usual. Slowly he got up with eyes fixed intently on Dean.
"Your brother must under no circumstances scratch that wall. It's fragile as it is. Just a tiny mark on it's foundation could shatter all of his chances at a somewhat functional life."
The hunter swallowed heavily as the meaning of these words sunk in. Bobby could only stare open mouthed at the exchange, lost for words as his mind tried to come to terms with the recent events.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a heart attack to attend."
"Thanks." Dean whispered, but the Horseman had already vanished, leaving them staring off into empty air.
Chapter 1: Reborn
It had been a couple of minutes since Death had left the building, but Dean was still lurking in the doorway, eyes frozen on the motionless body on the cot. He wanted to run over there and check on him, make sure that it was really Sam in there, but fear was holding him back. Fear of what he might find.
"Son?" asked Bobby's hesitant voice next to him.
"Give me a minute, Bobby."
"Shouldn't we..."
"I said, give me a minute!" the young man shot back harsher than he had intended to. Swallowing down the lump in his throat he closed his eyes for a second to collect himself. Bobby didn't deserve to be treated like this. More than once he had risked everything to help them clean up the mess they had gotten themselves into. Hell, Sam himself had nearly slaughtered him only hours ago!
"I'm sorry, I just..."
A hand landed on his shoulder. "It's alright. I get it. I'll be upstairs, if you boys need anything." With a supportive squeeze the old man let go and turned to leave.
"Bobby." Dean said, reluctantly averting his eyes from his unconscious brother to give the man behind him a tiny smile.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
Shuffling steps ascended the wooden staircase behind him, as the hunter turned his focus back to the panic room. Sam was still out cold, his face relaxed as if he didn't have a worry in the world. It was weird to watch him sleep for the first time in more than a year. Weird, but yet so familiar his chest hurt.
Swallowing loudly Dean took a careful step over the threshold. He pulled up a chair next to the cot and sat down, eyes still glued to the innocent features of the man before him. It was kind of ironic that Sam, the guy who always used to wear his over-sized heart on his tongue, should be the one incapable of emotions. Not for the first time Dean wanted to punch himself for being so damned dense and not realising what was up right away.
Gingerly he opened the cuffs around his brother's wrists and ankles. He didn't want to wake him, not yet. Sam needed all the rest he could get after everything he'd been through.
A part of Dean wanted to be furious with his brother. For trying to kill Bobby, for selling him out to the vamps, for deceiving him whenever he felt like it, for leaving him in the first place. Only minutes ago, before his last encounter with the Horseman upstairs, he had just about given up on Sam. He had found himself at an impasse, left with nothing else to try, nowhere else to go for help.
'And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me.'
Words that had been spoken years ago, induced by too much alcohol and guilt, had kept playing in his head when he stared through the bars in the thick iron door of the panic room.
'You're not getting Sam! You understand me?'
But they had. More importantly, they had gotten to him. All these years those evil sons of bitches had tried everything in the book to pull Sam towards them. Whispered venom into his ears, manipulated and pushed him in his weakest hours. Though, even when Sam had been pumped up on demon blood, it had still been Sam. The little brother, that sought his approval, his support in everything he did. The guy that put all his heart into doing what he thought was right, even if it wasn't.
A shudder ran through him when he remembered the coldness in this new Sam's eyes. This wasn't his brother.
'And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...'
This thing hadn't been Sam. It looked like him, carried his memories inside his head, but not his heart.
Dean had been so close to making a decision that probably would have cost him his sanity when Death himself had swooped in set things right.
Shaking off the dark memories Dean leaned back in his chair, trying to focus his attention on the presence. Sam was back. That was all that mattered now. Everything else they could deal with later. Together.
All of a sudden a loud gasp made the hunter nearly fall of his chair in surprise. Sam's eyes shot open, his chest jolting up from the cot. Dean jumped forward as fast as he could, one hand pressing down against his brother's chest while the other one gripped his shoulder tightly.
"Hey, hey! Sam! Look at me! I'm here! Look at me, man!"
The younger man was struggling against the hands holding him down. Panic filled every cell of his body, uncertain where he was or how he got there. His eyes were bouncing around the panic room until they finally found the familiar face in front of him. His heavy breathing started to ease a little as his forehead crinkled in recognition.
"D...Dean? How..." His raspy voice was thick with confusion.
The older hunter felt his eyes burn when he looked into those hazel ones and actually found something there. Fear, love, pain, hope. Emotions.
"Sammy." was the only thing he could say as he fought back the tears that threatened to boil over.
Without another word he wrapped his arms around his brother, burying his face in his shoulder.
Hesitantly the younger man returned the hug. His arms felt somewhat foreign to him, as if he wasn't used to be inside of his own body. Everything was just so overwhelming and confusing right now. Pushing all other thoughts aside Sam's brows pulled together in worry when he noticed the small tremors that ran through the older man's body.
"Dean...are you alright?"
The easy laughter that filled the air was response enough. Giving the young man's back one last squeeze the hunter finally loosened his iron-grip.
"I'm good, Sammy. I'm really good." Dean beamed before he ruffled his brother's hair and sat back down on his chair, one hand resting on the cot, seeking contact.
"Man, it's good to have you back." Dean just couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him, making it possible to breathe for the first time since his brother had voiced his plan to give Lucifer the big 'yes'. His entire body tingled with joy that seemed to wrap him up in a warm blanket of relief.
The young man stared back at him in wonder, completely dumbfounded by the amount of emotions seeping out of his usually so in control brother. His mind felt as if someone had fired up a fog machine in there, clouding over anything he tried to grasp.
"What happened to me?" Sam finally asked, his voice thin and vulnerable, making him look so much younger than he was.
Dean hesitated. He had to tread carefully here. There was no way of telling how much Sam would remember when the first shock wore off, but he felt no need to stir up painful memories that maybe could be avoided.
Suddenly Sam's eyes went wide in fear.
"Oh my god, is Lucifer..." he blurted out as he jumped up from the cot, only to start swaying dangerously. Dean was beside him in a flash, grabbing his arm to keep him from tumbling over.
"Hey, easy there, tiger. Lucifer is back in his sandbox, playing cops and robbers with Michael. Thanks to you."
Sam stared at him for a second, searching his face for a sign of dishonesty. Relieved not to find any his hand went to his pinched forehead, annoyed by his own lack of memories.
"I...I can't remember."
"Just, don't worry about it for now, alright? Satan is back where he belongs and so are you."
Instead of answering Sam stared off into thin air, making the older hunter feel uneasy.
"Sam? You in there?" he asked with a forced chuckle as he waved a hand into his line of vision, trying to pull his brother's attention back to himself and as far away from the wall inside of his mind as possible.
Startled the young man shook his head, trying to fight the dizziness that threatened to rise up again.
"What? Yeah, it's just...everything is so jumbled."
Dean eyed his distressed brother in concern. He couldn't fight the feeling that when Sam's memories of his topside half would return, the result wouldn't be pretty.
"Let's just get you upstairs for now, alright? This room has lost it's charm on me ages ago."
The younger man nodded his head as he returned his brother's glance with the most beautiful puppy eye look Dean had ever seen. Swallowing back the lump in his throat the older man felt his face lighten up with a thousand watt bright smile.
Sammy was back. For real this time.
----------------------------------------------------------
Off to Chapter 2...
Author: mulkentertain
Rating: PG
Word count: 15.573 words
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Spoilers up to 6x11, my take on what I thought 6x12 might have been before it aired. So obviously totally AU ever since then.
Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.
Author's Note: I wrote this back when Episode 6x11 aired and posted it over the following weeks on ff.net If for some reason you prefer to read it there, go ahead. It is exactly the same on both websides (except for another round of spell check for this one right here). But since I have a Lj now I thought I might as well post it here.
Prelude
Dean had moved heaven and hell to get to this point. Most of the time more literally than he would have liked. Had turned every stone he could find to get Sam back. The real Sam. Not this soulless, remorseless substitute that wore his brother's face and memories to the prom.
A minute ago, when Death had agreed to spring the lost soul from the cage, Dean had been one hundred percent certain of his undertakings. But now that the moment was finally here, he felt something unexpected.
Doubt.
Creeping up his spine, nagging it's way into every fibre of his mind.
The bliss and relief that flowed through him at the sight of Sam's blindingly blazing essence had soon be replaced with fear. Triggered by the same fear he could see in his brother's eyes, as the Horseman inched closer towards the cot. It was the closest thing to a true emotion that had ever crossed the younger hunter's face since his escape from hell. Dean had been watching him for months now. Living side by side with a shadow of what the younger man used to be. An emotionless thing, barely human, apart from the appearance. He had been searching for that little glimmer of humanity, a sign that there was actually something in there.
Suddenly witnessing this raw and heart wrenching hysteria screaming out of those hazel eyes nearly floored him.
"No...you don't know...You don't know what will happen to me. Dean, please!" Sam's voice was pulling on him, begging him to stop. The bound man's chest heaved with the panic that radiated off him in waves. Dean's eyes widened, body frozen where he stood. Sam fought desperately against his restrains as Death leaned closer, the shinning soul clasped tightly in his bony fingers.
"No, no!" The shouting had turned into breathy pleas. It took all the strength Dean could muster not to step in. His instincts screamed at him to help Sam, to protect him, no matter how little of his brother was left in this shell.
The doubts clawed their way through his veins, like a poison, that was burning his insides with freezing ice water.
What if his brother was right? What if the wall wouldn't hold? What if he in his stubbornness just destroyed Sam's only chance of living by following through with his plan?
No.
He couldn't go back. Not now.
Sam wouldn't have wanted to live like this.
HE didn't want him to live like this.
The moment the Grim-Reaper plunged his fist into the young man's chest Sam's eyes shot open, a bloodcurdling scream ripping from his throat. His head snapped back, veins popped out from the exertion and pain. Dean's fingers dug into the hard metal door frame as he watched the man's body spasm in agony, far worse than when Cas had tried to locate his soul in the first place.
All of a sudden the noise stopped, sucked from the room when Sam's convulsing body went slack on the narrow cot.
Dean was too afraid to move, even to breathe. In the back of his mind he noticed Bobby's rigid presence next to him, but all his focus was on his brother, searching for a sign of life in the familiar features.
"Did it work?" he finally managed to rasp out.
Death simply nodded his head, unsettling calm as usual. Slowly he got up with eyes fixed intently on Dean.
"Your brother must under no circumstances scratch that wall. It's fragile as it is. Just a tiny mark on it's foundation could shatter all of his chances at a somewhat functional life."
The hunter swallowed heavily as the meaning of these words sunk in. Bobby could only stare open mouthed at the exchange, lost for words as his mind tried to come to terms with the recent events.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a heart attack to attend."
"Thanks." Dean whispered, but the Horseman had already vanished, leaving them staring off into empty air.
Chapter 1: Reborn
It had been a couple of minutes since Death had left the building, but Dean was still lurking in the doorway, eyes frozen on the motionless body on the cot. He wanted to run over there and check on him, make sure that it was really Sam in there, but fear was holding him back. Fear of what he might find.
"Son?" asked Bobby's hesitant voice next to him.
"Give me a minute, Bobby."
"Shouldn't we..."
"I said, give me a minute!" the young man shot back harsher than he had intended to. Swallowing down the lump in his throat he closed his eyes for a second to collect himself. Bobby didn't deserve to be treated like this. More than once he had risked everything to help them clean up the mess they had gotten themselves into. Hell, Sam himself had nearly slaughtered him only hours ago!
"I'm sorry, I just..."
A hand landed on his shoulder. "It's alright. I get it. I'll be upstairs, if you boys need anything." With a supportive squeeze the old man let go and turned to leave.
"Bobby." Dean said, reluctantly averting his eyes from his unconscious brother to give the man behind him a tiny smile.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
Shuffling steps ascended the wooden staircase behind him, as the hunter turned his focus back to the panic room. Sam was still out cold, his face relaxed as if he didn't have a worry in the world. It was weird to watch him sleep for the first time in more than a year. Weird, but yet so familiar his chest hurt.
Swallowing loudly Dean took a careful step over the threshold. He pulled up a chair next to the cot and sat down, eyes still glued to the innocent features of the man before him. It was kind of ironic that Sam, the guy who always used to wear his over-sized heart on his tongue, should be the one incapable of emotions. Not for the first time Dean wanted to punch himself for being so damned dense and not realising what was up right away.
Gingerly he opened the cuffs around his brother's wrists and ankles. He didn't want to wake him, not yet. Sam needed all the rest he could get after everything he'd been through.
A part of Dean wanted to be furious with his brother. For trying to kill Bobby, for selling him out to the vamps, for deceiving him whenever he felt like it, for leaving him in the first place. Only minutes ago, before his last encounter with the Horseman upstairs, he had just about given up on Sam. He had found himself at an impasse, left with nothing else to try, nowhere else to go for help.
'And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me.'
Words that had been spoken years ago, induced by too much alcohol and guilt, had kept playing in his head when he stared through the bars in the thick iron door of the panic room.
'You're not getting Sam! You understand me?'
But they had. More importantly, they had gotten to him. All these years those evil sons of bitches had tried everything in the book to pull Sam towards them. Whispered venom into his ears, manipulated and pushed him in his weakest hours. Though, even when Sam had been pumped up on demon blood, it had still been Sam. The little brother, that sought his approval, his support in everything he did. The guy that put all his heart into doing what he thought was right, even if it wasn't.
A shudder ran through him when he remembered the coldness in this new Sam's eyes. This wasn't his brother.
'And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...'
This thing hadn't been Sam. It looked like him, carried his memories inside his head, but not his heart.
Dean had been so close to making a decision that probably would have cost him his sanity when Death himself had swooped in set things right.
Shaking off the dark memories Dean leaned back in his chair, trying to focus his attention on the presence. Sam was back. That was all that mattered now. Everything else they could deal with later. Together.
All of a sudden a loud gasp made the hunter nearly fall of his chair in surprise. Sam's eyes shot open, his chest jolting up from the cot. Dean jumped forward as fast as he could, one hand pressing down against his brother's chest while the other one gripped his shoulder tightly.
"Hey, hey! Sam! Look at me! I'm here! Look at me, man!"
The younger man was struggling against the hands holding him down. Panic filled every cell of his body, uncertain where he was or how he got there. His eyes were bouncing around the panic room until they finally found the familiar face in front of him. His heavy breathing started to ease a little as his forehead crinkled in recognition.
"D...Dean? How..." His raspy voice was thick with confusion.
The older hunter felt his eyes burn when he looked into those hazel ones and actually found something there. Fear, love, pain, hope. Emotions.
"Sammy." was the only thing he could say as he fought back the tears that threatened to boil over.
Without another word he wrapped his arms around his brother, burying his face in his shoulder.
Hesitantly the younger man returned the hug. His arms felt somewhat foreign to him, as if he wasn't used to be inside of his own body. Everything was just so overwhelming and confusing right now. Pushing all other thoughts aside Sam's brows pulled together in worry when he noticed the small tremors that ran through the older man's body.
"Dean...are you alright?"
The easy laughter that filled the air was response enough. Giving the young man's back one last squeeze the hunter finally loosened his iron-grip.
"I'm good, Sammy. I'm really good." Dean beamed before he ruffled his brother's hair and sat back down on his chair, one hand resting on the cot, seeking contact.
"Man, it's good to have you back." Dean just couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him, making it possible to breathe for the first time since his brother had voiced his plan to give Lucifer the big 'yes'. His entire body tingled with joy that seemed to wrap him up in a warm blanket of relief.
The young man stared back at him in wonder, completely dumbfounded by the amount of emotions seeping out of his usually so in control brother. His mind felt as if someone had fired up a fog machine in there, clouding over anything he tried to grasp.
"What happened to me?" Sam finally asked, his voice thin and vulnerable, making him look so much younger than he was.
Dean hesitated. He had to tread carefully here. There was no way of telling how much Sam would remember when the first shock wore off, but he felt no need to stir up painful memories that maybe could be avoided.
Suddenly Sam's eyes went wide in fear.
"Oh my god, is Lucifer..." he blurted out as he jumped up from the cot, only to start swaying dangerously. Dean was beside him in a flash, grabbing his arm to keep him from tumbling over.
"Hey, easy there, tiger. Lucifer is back in his sandbox, playing cops and robbers with Michael. Thanks to you."
Sam stared at him for a second, searching his face for a sign of dishonesty. Relieved not to find any his hand went to his pinched forehead, annoyed by his own lack of memories.
"I...I can't remember."
"Just, don't worry about it for now, alright? Satan is back where he belongs and so are you."
Instead of answering Sam stared off into thin air, making the older hunter feel uneasy.
"Sam? You in there?" he asked with a forced chuckle as he waved a hand into his line of vision, trying to pull his brother's attention back to himself and as far away from the wall inside of his mind as possible.
Startled the young man shook his head, trying to fight the dizziness that threatened to rise up again.
"What? Yeah, it's just...everything is so jumbled."
Dean eyed his distressed brother in concern. He couldn't fight the feeling that when Sam's memories of his topside half would return, the result wouldn't be pretty.
"Let's just get you upstairs for now, alright? This room has lost it's charm on me ages ago."
The younger man nodded his head as he returned his brother's glance with the most beautiful puppy eye look Dean had ever seen. Swallowing back the lump in his throat the older man felt his face lighten up with a thousand watt bright smile.
Sammy was back. For real this time.
----------------------------------------------------------
Off to Chapter 2...