Somewhere a Clock is Ticking, 8/9 (R, Sam/Dean)
Title: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking (Part 8 of 9)
Rating: R
Pairing: Eventual Sam/Dean
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: Approx. 70k for the fic as a whole.
Betas: So, so much love to zooey_glass04 and aynslee, beta readers and Ameripickers extraordinaire, for all their awesomeness. Thank you, darlings! <333
Notes: This is the fic I wrote during Nano 2007; I had only seen up to episode 3.04 (Sin City) at the time. This is therefore set post-3.04 and contains spoilers only up to that point; of course, it has now been completely overtaken by canon and is officially AU. Oh well. The fic is complete, and will be posted chapter by chapter as I sort out my life.
Summary: The first time Dean saw a demon bow to his brother, he'd been dead for ten days.
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
"Look, just tell me what the hell we're doing out here in the middle of nowhere," Dean said.
Sam stared around the clearing, only half listening. It looked exactly the way it had when he'd left just over a week ago; there was no sign that anyone had been there.
Which meant he was rapidly running out of places to look for Ruby. He'd spent two days searching for her in Cicero, the last place he'd seen her, and turned up nothing - so he'd been hoping to find her here, where she'd taken him to practice right before Dean took off for Cicero. It didn't look like she'd been back here either, though.
They were only about half an hour away from Bobby's house, and he debated again whether to check back out of the motel he'd found in the nearest town and go there instead. But he knew that Bobby wouldn't be able to help, not with this. They'd spent months researching together, gone through every book Bobby owned, checked with every contact he had. Bobby wasn't one to give up easily, particularly not on Dean, but he'd all but admitted to Sam months ago that there was nothing else he could do. Bobby wouldn't be able to help them, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to go there with Dean, not while his brother was still unstable.
He looked helplessly around the clearing again. He guessed it was his own fault. Ruby could be helpful when she wanted to be, but she was temperamental, too. She hadn't argued nearly enough back in Cicero when Sam told her to go away and leave him alone to mourn his brother. Sam didn't feel bad about that - he'd slowly started to trust Ruby to some degree, over the months, but she wasn't exactly someone whose feelings he worried about hurting - but he did suspect she'd taken offence and was refusing to get in touch with him. It had been over a week, the longest she'd gone without contacting him in months.
Knowing her, she's probably been watching me this whole time and just won't let me see her.
Dean sighed. "Sam, I know you're pissed at me, okay? I get that. But - I don't know what else you want me to say. I should have told you, I was just worried you'd do something stupid."
Sam looked around again. He wasn't really giving Dean the silent treatment; he wasn't pissed - well, okay, he was pissed, in fact he was fucking furious, but that wasn't productive and he'd no time for anything unproductive. He wasn't about to waste what time he had with Dean by refusing to speak to him. But he'd spent so many months keeping to himself everything about his efforts to break Dean's deal and everything Ruby told him and showed him; it was a hard habit to break.
Plus he was pretty sure Dean wasn't going to react well, and Sam had decided to put off that argument for as long as possible.
Which could well be indefinitely, at this rate. Where the hell was she?
Sam glanced at his watch, a nervous habit he'd developed since Dean had told him the truth three days ago. God, this was fucking ridiculous. How long was she going to make him search for her? He didn't have time for this. Dean didn't have time.
"Ruby!" he yelled.
He heard Dean's "What?", but his attention was taken up by the voice behind him that said, "Well, well. Look who's finally come calling."
Sam turned around to meet her gaze. Ruby wore a mocking smile, but her eyes were cold and hard.
"Sam, no," Dean said, off to his side. "Jesus, Sam, I don't want you to -"
"Where have you been?" Sam asked her, ignoring Dean.
Ruby tilted her head. "Why, Sam, I didn't know you cared." Her smile faded. "You're the one who told me to go away and leave you alone. Now you've got the nerve to complain that I did what you said?" Her smile returned, crueler. "I didn't want to disturb you during your... time of grief."
"...Such a fucking bitch," Dean muttered, keeping his distance.
"You knew, didn't you?" Sam said. "You knew Dean's deal was still running."
"It's not like you gave me a chance to tell you," Ruby said. "Shut up and go away and leave me alone were your words, I believe. I did offer to help you, Sam, but you weren't interested." She turned away, as if about to walk out of the clearing. "So good luck."
"Don't, Sam," Dean said. "Don't you dare fall for that trick -"
"Ruby, I need your help," Sam said. "Will you help me?"
He ignored Dean's groan and kept his eyes on her. She turned around slowly, her mocking smile now replaced by a serious expression.
"On one condition," Ruby said.
"Here it comes," Dean muttered.
"You've got to leave behind all those pretty scruples and issues that were holding you back before," Ruby said. "There's no time left for messing around. You do what I tell you, and you work like hell. Pardon the expression." She smiled in a way which showed there had been nothing accidental about it. "That's my condition, Sam. You need to be willing to do what it takes this time. Whatever the price."
"Sam, no," Dean repeated. "Dude, I trusted Meg more than I trust this bitch - at least we knew where we stood with her. Whatever it is she wants you to do, it's not worth it. Please, Sam."
Sam kept his eyes on Ruby. He thought about the ritual he'd been ready to perform, back in the necromancer's house; thought about lying awake in an empty bed, and the feeling of his lips on Dean's. He'd already set aside his scruples and ethics. She wasn't asking anything new of him: he'd already crossed all his lines and been happy to pay the price.
"Done," he said.
~*~
The first time Dean saw a demon bow to his brother, he'd been dead for ten days.
He'd yelled himself hoarse while Ruby and Sam set up a circle to summon demons to, but Ruby couldn't hear him and Sam was a stubborn bastard who wouldn't let himself be distracted, not even when Dean sang fifty verses about bottles of beer on the wall. Not even when Dean lost it and tried shoving him - finally desperate enough to risk touching him, something he'd been avoiding now he knew what his touch could do to Sam, the way he could drain him. Once they'd finished marking out the circle with rocks, though, Dean gave up on his attempts to interfere, because no matter how much he wanted to stop Sam, he wasn't about to risk distracting him when he was in danger.
"Ready?" Ruby said, not really a question. She turned towards the circle without bothering to wait for a response.
"Sam," Dean tried again. "C'mon, Sammy, please, don't do this -"
He cut off as something took shape inside the circle. Something that almost looked like the ghost of a little girl, until you saw the eyes. It wasn't a ghost - not Lara - but the resemblance was enough to make Dean shudder. He spared a moment to at least be grateful that it wasn't possessing anyone: this was its own form, and there was no little girl trapped in there somewhere.
"Stay," Sam commanded as the demon lunged for the edge of the circle, and it seemed to rebound off an invisible barrier at the edge of the circle, turning to glare at Sam instead. And then - bending slowly, obviously against its will - it bowed to Sam.
Ruby didn't even tell him to make the demon do it, and maybe that was worst part of all: that this was so clearly routine for Sam now.
"Oh fuck, Sam," Dean muttered, feeling sick. "What the hell has happened to you?"
Sam's lips tightened, but that was the only sign that he was even aware of his presence.
"So, let's see just how much you've forgotten," Ruby said, walking away from the circle to stand behind Sam.
Dean kept his mouth shut for the rest of their 'practice session', standing on the edge of the clearing and watching silently. Mostly it was small stuff, Sam commanding the demon to fetch things, to say things, to move things. That was no comfort. Ruby kept up a stream of needling comments, criticizing moments of hesitation that Dean couldn't see, telling Sam that he wasn't trying.
She was going to pay, Dean told himself. Somehow, he was going to find a way to make her pay for doing this to Sam.
He felt... exhausted. And sick. And angry. He found himself grinding his teeth as Ruby taunted his brother again. She had no right. She...
"Come on, Sam!" Ruby snapped. "I thought you wanted to save that brother of yours? You don't have time for these scruples!"
Dean hissed at her, at the threat in her tone; he could feel his hands shifting, hooking into claws.
That made Sam look in his direction, for the first time in hours. He was frowning, but something flared in his eyes before he turned back to Ruby. "The sun'll be up soon."
Ruby looked at him for a long moment, and Dean hissed again. He didn't like her standing so close to Sam, didn't like her looking at him like that. He should...
"Fine," Ruby said, before Dean figured out exactly what it was he wanted to do. "Then finish it."
Sam didn't move for a moment, and Ruby tilted her head. "I knew you'd lost your edge. You're holding back on killing demons now, Sam? You're going to just let this one go? Let it tell others that you're weak? That they can afford to go up against you?"
The demon in the circle snarled. Without looking over, Sam said, "Shut up," and it fell silent.
Dean found himself hissing again, quiet and constant. He didn't like the look on his brother's face, not even when Sam glanced across at him.
"Well?" Ruby asked, voice sharp with impatience. "I don't have -"
She was cut off as Sam pulled out the Colt, turned and fired in one smooth move at the demon in the circle.
"Slow," Ruby said, as the demon's form dissolved into dark smoke, sparks glowing for a moment until the air cleared entirely. "You can't afford hesitation like that, Sam. Tomorrow you'd better be faster."
Sam didn't say anything, just tucked the Colt away again and moved towards Dean. It wasn't until he saw the uncertainty in Sam's eyes that Dean realized he was still hissing, teeth bared as he snarled at Ruby. The subtle touch of his brother's hand on his arm brought him back to himself a little, and he focused on Sam again.
"See you tonight, Ruby," was all Sam said, then he dropped his hand and walked out of the clearing.
Thinking straight was difficult, but Dean didn't need to think: just snarled at Ruby one last time and then shifted to his brother's side, drifting along with him in the direction of the car.
"Hey," Sam murmured under his breath, once they were a good distance from the clearing. His hand was reassuringly solid, wrapped around Dean's wrist, and Dean felt the world shift more into focus. "You - okay?"
"Don't like her," Dean said, but it was already fading - the reason why he was angry with her, if not the anger itself. The clearing already seemed like something unreal.
The shadows on Sam's face, though, touching his jaw and his cheek and his eyes... they were real.
"Hey," Sam said again, and Dean blinked at the realization that they were back at the car, though he'd no memory of reaching it. "C'mon, let's - let's get back to the motel, okay? You'll feel better once we're back there."
Dean didn't argue, just shifted inside the car, staring abstractedly as Sam opened the door and crammed himself inside in the more conventional manner. He couldn't take his eyes off his brother now; the rest of his surroundings seemed faded and grey, even though the dawn light was now starting to bring color back into the world.
Shouldn't... he thought dimly. Dangerous... But he was already pressing up against Sam's side, irresistibly drawn to the warmth and the tingle of electricity that fed through him when they touched.
"Dean. Hey, Dean. Dean." Sam's voice finally penetrated the haze that had come over him, and Dean blinked and focused on his brother's face. Sam looked... exhausted. Worried. Dean reached out, wanting to comfort him, only to lose his train of thought entirely when his fingers brushed Sam's face and sensation shot through him.
"C'mon," Sam said. "Dean, we're here, let's - let's just go inside, and then... it's going to be okay, I promise. C'mon, our room's right over there -"
Dean couldn't really follow any of what Sam was saying, but he could still follow Sam, shifting to stay close even as his brother was moving, until finally, finally, Sam stopped moving away, turning to him instead.
"Dean," Sam said. His voice sounded... wrong, Dean was dimly aware. "Oh god, Dean. I've got you, come here -"
And then Sam was touching him, his mouth sending jolts of energy through him, and Dean suddenly remembered enough to realize why he shouldn't be touching Sam, realize what his brother was doing for him, the sacrifice he was making. Then Sam's lips pressed against his, and the moment of clarity was swept away in the flood of energy rushing through him.
~*~
It was late afternoon when Dean left Sam still sleeping in bed and paced across the room to peer through the crack in the drapes at the cars driving past outside.
They'd fallen into a routine of sorts, over the week since Sam had brought them there. Each night they went back out to the clearing and Sam 'worked' with Ruby until dawn. Dean hated it, hated her, hated what she was doing to his brother. Part of him wanted to be angry with Sam for what he was doing. But when Sam had died, Dean had driven to the nearest crossroads and made a deal with a demon. How could he blame Sam for turning to Ruby? At least his brother wasn't selling his soul, though sometimes the look on Sam's face made Dean worry that he was making a far worse sacrifice.
Dean hated the nights.
The mornings weren't much better. After a long night of watching Sam order demons around, Dean found himself... slipping. Before his run-in with the shade, that had only happened when he had exhausted himself, but now it was happening every day. Dean still wasn't sure whether the shade had caused it, or whether it was just the gradual onset of madness the crossroads demon and Thomas had both insisted was inevitable. It started out with him feeling exhausted, and the world turning hazy and unreal around him, the way it used to after he'd lost a lot of blood, back when he was alive. He never remembered much of what happened after that: it was like a fever dream. Sam had been tight-lipped when Dean had asked him, but he'd got the impression he acted... like a ghost. A dangerous ghost.
The kind of ghost they normally hunted.
By the time he came back to himself enough to be aware of his surroundings, he was always back in the motel room with Sam. Clinging to Sam, really. Even once he was aware again, it always took a while before he was strong and stable enough to let go or move away. Sam never laughed at him, just kept touching him, and Dean felt strength flooding in with every touch.
He wasn't so far gone that he hadn't figured out what that meant. He knew Sam's own exhaustion wasn't due only to what he was doing with Ruby. Dean knew he was feeding off his brother's strength; he just didn't know what to do about it. By the time it happened he was always too far out of it to realize what was going on, and Sam didn't seem inclined to put a stop to it.
Dean was trying to avoid touching his brother now, trying to stay away for as long as he could, but it didn't seem to be helping. If anything, it just meant he started slipping quicker. Last night he hadn't even been able to hold out until dawn. He could dimly recall staggering across the clearing to lean against Sam, unable to handle being even a few feet away from any more. After that, everything was hazy.
The kissing was another thing. The energy that shot through him whenever they kissed was even more intense than when Sam touched him. Dean was almost certain that it hadn't started out as kissing, exactly, that it had been... well, something else. But each time he'd come round in their bed that week, Sam had been kissing him, and hadn't stopped until Dean had finally found the strength to pull away.
It was getting harder to find that strength, and Dean wasn't sure what that meant.
Once Dean came round enough to move away from Sam and over to his own side of the bed, Sam always fell asleep. Dean suspected his brother forced himself to stay awake until he was a bit closer to sanity again, though he didn't know whether that was just Sam's concern for him or his concern about what Dean might do. In the evening, Sam generally woke up just in time to eat something before they headed back out to the clearing.
They didn't really talk any more. There wasn't anything to be said. Sam was dead-set on his strategy of trusting in Ruby and hoping a plan would materialize; Dean had given up on trying to talk him out of it.
Dean turned away from the window with a sigh and stared at Sam, who was lying sprawled across his half of the bed.
He hated this. He deeply and truly hated this, more than he'd hated just about any situation before. He hated what Sam was going through for him. He hated that he was losing control of himself. He hated that he had only just over three weeks left with his brother, and they were going to spend them like this, with Sam being dazzled by demons and never talking to each other and only touching when he was too crazy to stop himself.
Sam shifted in his sleep with a faint moan, and Dean caught himself hissing, feeling his teeth lengthen instinctively at the idea of a threat to Sam. He forced himself to close his eyes and breathe deeply until he felt more stable again, and then he crossed slowly back to the bed, lying down next to Sam. He stared at his brother's back, and tried to think what to do.
Killing himself wasn't an option, for the obvious reason that dying hadn't really solved any problems for him so far. In theory, he could try to torch his corpse, but Sam showed no inclination to go to Bobby's, and Dean couldn't go very far from his side. Besides, he'd promised Sam he wouldn't do that. It was a promise he'd be willing to break if he thought it was necessary, but it didn't look like he was going to get a chance.
He couldn't talk Sam out of this insanity, and he couldn't see any way to force him to stop either. The only hope was that Sam might come to his senses of his own accord, as far as Dean could see. Or that failing would somehow not result in Sam's death.
All Dean knew was that they couldn't carry on like this. If he only had three weeks left, this wasn't how he was going out. He might not be able to convince Sam to stop working with Ruby and drive down to the Grand Canyon with him, but that didn't mean he had to spend all of his time with Sam, clinging to Sam, without ever really making contact.
If he could only have three weeks with his brother, then he was going to goddamn have those three weeks with Sam. And he was going to damn well have every piece of Sam he could, not this silent, distant shadow of his brother.
Dean reached out and touched a finger lightly to Sam's bare back. He held it there for a moment, worried that he'd feel the faint tingling that meant he was drawing on his brother again, but there was nothing, just the warmth of Sam's skin against his.
When had he last touched Sam while he was sane enough to know what he was doing?
Sam shifted uneasily in his sleep, his brow wrinkling. Dean swallowed.
Fuck this. I'm going to touch him. I'm going to talk to him. I'm going to damn well make sure we have something good in these last few weeks. I'm not letting any demon take everything away from us.
He ran his finger gently up Sam's spine, then traced over his forehead, smoothing gently over the lines there. It was... strange, both new and not: he had vague memories of touching his brother like this, but they hovered just out of reach, refusing to come into focus.
Sam's eyes opened suddenly, narrowing in instantly on his, and Dean saw his brother draw the logical assumption from his touch.
"Dean? Are you okay?" Sam asked, worry shading his voice. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist.
Dean held his breath, but there was still no tingle of energy being transferred between them. He guessed that meant he was as sane as he was ever going to get. It was oddly reassuring to know.
Sam's eyes snapped back to his, the realization evidently dawning on him too that Dean couldn't be touching him for energy, not this time. Dean met his gaze steadily.
"Dean?" Sam murmured again. He sounded confused, but he hadn't released Dean's wrist.
He was losing Sam. He was losing himself. But right now he was sane, and Sam was right there. Whatever he said now, Sam would listen. He could tell Sam that he didn't want to go to hell. He could tell Sam that he was scared shitless of what Sam might do trying to prevent it. He could tell Sam that he didn't regret what he'd done.
Instead, Dean leaned over and kissed him.
Sam's lips were warm against his, responding automatically, allowing Dean to take what he needed. Dean drew back and met Sam's eyes, because that wasn't what this was about, not this time.
Sam's eyes were wide, and Dean knew he'd felt the difference. He hadn't drained Sam's energy; this kiss had been about offering, not taking. He was sane right now, and though he hadn't known he was going to kiss Sam before he'd done it, he still knew exactly what he was doing.
"I'm not letting you go."
For a moment Dean wasn't sure which of them had said it, but the way Sam blinked and the look in his brother's eyes made him realize it had been him.
"I'm not," he repeated, stumbling over the words. "It's just - I need you, okay, and not just because... Sammy. Don't think that all this shit that's happened is why, okay? There's a reason why I fucking cling to you when I don't know up from down. You were the only thing I was sure of long before all of this happened, okay? So don't think that's why. I didn't know I could want this before, but I do. And maybe I only actually went ahead and did it because I was crazy, but that's not the reason I wanted to." He swallowed. "And I'm not crazy now."
Sane or not, he wasn't sure he was making much sense, but something must have gotten through to his brother, because Sam pressed him back against the bed and kissed him.
It wasn't like the gentle semi-kisses they'd shared when Dean was finding his way back from slipping, all about the connection and I've got you. It was fierce and raw and despairing, I'm losing you and I can't take it and I won't let you go. Dean kissed him back, putting as much of himself into it as he could, trying to show Sam everything he couldn't find the words for.
"Dean," Sam muttered between kisses. "Dean, I - I can't lose you, I can't, you're - you're everything, you don't even know -"
"I'm right here," Dean murmured back, the best he could do without making a promise he couldn't keep.
He knew Sam had heard what he hadn't said as clearly as what he had, because Sam's hands closed around his wrists almost tight enough to hurt, holding on desperately.
Dean kissed him again, not trying to distract him, simply to remind him. I'm here now. Don't waste it.
Sam gasped against his lips, and Dean felt the shudder that ran through his brother's body as the message sank in. Then Sam released his wrists and closed his hands around his face instead, tilting Dean's head to deepen the kiss, less despairing but no less fierce.
Dean gave himself over to it, one hand tangling in Sam's hair, the other pressing against his back, tugging Sam down to lie fully on top of him. It was overwhelming. Now that Dean could touch so little, even slight contact had taken on huge meaning; with Sam, the only real thing in his world, the sensation was enough to make it hard to breathe. Sam might not be transferring energy to him, but every inch of physical contact was making him real, nonetheless.
Sam kissed his way along the curve of his jaw, and Dean couldn't help the ridiculous noise he made. Sam laughed, hot and low against his skin, and Dean thought that was the best sound he'd heard from Sam since his death.
"We're doing this," Sam said. It wasn't really a question.
"Fuck yeah," Dean said, and flipped them, pinning Sam beneath him.
Sam flushed, though not from embarrassment: Dean could see heat spark in his eyes, and he had to kiss Sam again before he found himself saying something unforgivably mushy. Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling their bodies flush together, and Dean moaned into his mouth at the warmth of Sam's bare chest against him.
He broke away and began kissing his way down Sam's throat, running his hands across his brother's chest, feeling his heartbeat accelerate beneath his hand.
"Your clothes," Sam said, tugging at the sleeve of the ghostly leather jacket Dean was still wearing.
"Don't think I can take them off," Dean murmured against his skin. He laughed under his breath, able to appreciate the ridiculousness of the situation. "Hell, Sam, I don't even know if I can fucking... do this without a body."
Sam's hands touched his face, forcing him to lift his head and meet his gaze. His brother was looking very serious now. "We don't have to. You know that, right?"
"I want to," Dean said. "You're just gonna need to be a bit creative, that's all."
A slow, hot grin spread across Sam's face. "Creative, huh? I can do that." And before Dean had a chance to process it, Sam's hands were sliding beneath his shirt, stroking along his stomach and trailing slowly up his back.
"Fuck," Dean cursed, and had to bury his head against Sam's neck, sucking at his pulse-point and trying to hold it together. Not to be outdone, he ran a hand down Sam's side, tracing his hip bone before stroking across his thigh. It was Sam's turn to curse, then, but Dean's grin of satisfaction was lost when Sam bucked up and Dean felt his brother's erection grinding against him.
Holy fuck, they really were doing this.
Sam slid one hand lower, working it inside Dean's jeans, and Dean gasped, shuddering helplessly beneath Sam's touch.
"Hell yes," Sam murmured. "Fuck, Dean, you look -"
"Jesus," Dean said, and slid a hand between them, not bothering to take Sam's shorts off, just slipping his hand inside them and curling it around Sam's erection, squeezing gently.
Sam threw his head back, moaning, and Dean felt the blast of desire sweeping through his brother. Over the past few weeks he'd gotten good at not picking up on Sam's emotions too clearly, even when they were touching, but whatever barriers he'd put in place to block them had come crashing down, or maybe he was just so focused on his brother that he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with how Sam was feeling.
Currently, though, he had no complaints whatsoever about picking up on it, because holy shit it felt good.
"Dean," Sam gasped. "Jesus, Dean, please -"
"I got you," Dean said, and began jacking him, slow and steady.
The angle was unfamiliar and awkward, but the way Sam moaned and writhed against him was quite possibly the best thing ever. Dean muffled a groan of his own against Sam's shoulder as his brother wrapped a hand around his cock in turn. It was almost too much, feeling the hot pleasure pounding through Sam as well as his own.
"Oh, fuck," he muttered. "Sam, Sammy -" He bit down against Sam's throat, sucking hard.
"Dean," Sam groaned, and Dean felt his brother's orgasm hit, carrying them both over the edge and into dazed pleasure.
It was several minutes before Dean could even move. "Holy fuck," he murmured indistinctly against Sam's throat.
Sam laughed weakly. "Yeah. Did you, um..."
Dean wasn't sure whether he'd actually come - he still had his doubts about that being possible without a real body - but picking up on Sam's orgasm had felt as close to the real thing as to make no difference. "Yeah," he said, keeping things simple.
"Okay," Sam said. He still sounded slightly dazed.
Dean forced himself to move into a more comfortable position for them both, lying next to Sam with their legs tangled together and his hand above Sam's heart, listening to his heartbeat gradually slowing. Sam turned his head to look at him, smiling softly.
Dean just watched him. Nothing had changed, he knew that. In another hour they'd still go out to the clearing, and Ruby would drag Sam even further down a path he never should have been on in the first place. A few hours after that, Dean would start slipping again, losing himself until Sam brought him back. His time would still be up in three weeks. Nothing had changed.
Except that Sam was with him now, in a way he hadn't been before. And that was the only thing Dean had ever really wanted.
"You okay?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean smiled, because for the first time in a long time, he was. "Yeah. You should get some more sleep, Sammy."
Sam looked at him for a moment and then leaned in to snag a quick kiss, which turned into a slightly longer kiss when he seemed to realize Dean had no problems with it. He didn't say anything when he drew back again, just closed his eyes, his head still turned in Dean's direction.
Dean listened to the sound of his brother's breathing and let it lull him into rest, even if sleep was beyond him.
~*~
"- So I'll summon it, and then I want you to kill it," Ruby said.
"You don't want me to practice giving it orders first?" Sam asked. He'd been uneasy, the first few times Ruby had told him to kill one of the demons she'd summoned at random, but she'd just laughed at him, pointed out that killing demons was what he spent his life trying to do, and wasn't this a bad time to be having second thoughts about it? Sam couldn't help but feel that there had to be a difference between hunting demons and summoning them to shoot them in cold blood, but he had to admit that he was probably on shaky moral ground there. And when he thought about it, fewer demons had to be a good thing, right? If he had a weapon which could destroy them, surely he had a duty to use it?
But until now that had always come at the end of one of their practice sessions. Summoning a demon and killing it right away seemed a bit of a waste.
"No, this time I just want you to kill it," Ruby said, though her slight smirk told Sam that there was more to it than that.
"Okay," he said, nonetheless, and took out the Colt.
"Ah ah ah," Ruby said chidingly, her smirk now a full-blown grin. "Put the gun away, Sam."
Sam frowned. "What exactly are you trying to get me to do?"
"You're too dependent on that gun," Ruby told him. "You need to start learning to impose your will without it. I don't want you to shoot this demon - I want you to kill it yourself."
Sam stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me," Ruby said, and laughed at whatever she saw in his expression. "I'm not asking you to get into a fist-fight with it, Sam. You've been practicing imposing your will - well, this time I want you to impose your will on this demon and kill it. I don't mind how you do it, whether you will it out of existence, or tell it to stop breathing, or order it to return to Hell, or... well, the possibilities are just endless, aren't they?"
The relish in her voice made Sam feel slightly nauseous, but he supposed he could see her point. He'd grown used to having the Colt, not just as a last resort, but as the most effective and final way of dealing with demons and the supernatural generally. Maybe he had started relying on it too much. Besides, did it really make that much of a difference, whether he shot a demon or dealt with it some other way?
He tucked the Colt away again, trying to prepare himself mentally. He could feel Dean's eyes on his back from where he was standing on the edge of the clearing, but his brother had quickly given up on trying to interfere during the practice sessions. He still insisted on trying to talk Sam out of what he was doing when they were alone, though, and Sam had no doubt that Dean would be giving him a piece of his mind later.
He tried to put it out of his mind. Dean was the one he was doing this for.
Sam didn't hear Ruby say anything, but all of a sudden there was a demon standing inside the circle of rocks. She was tall and pretty and dark-haired, but when she blinked in surprise, her eyes were black.
"Stop. Stay here, within that circle," Sam ordered at once, throwing as much of his will behind the words as he could. He always began with that, no matter what Ruby wanted him to practice afterwards; it was best to take care of it first, and it also meant that if he came across a demon he wasn't strong enough to control, he would find out fast enough to try something else.
"Get on with it, Sam," Ruby said impatiently.
Sam stared at the demon and swallowed. It didn't matter what he told himself - it looked human. Right now it even looked frightened. And, for that matter, this one was possessing a human being. If he killed it, the woman would die too. He would have to try to drive the demon out and back to hell, instead.
Except that an exorcism was traumatic and dangerous enough for the victim. If he tried to force the demon out just by the strength of his will... well, he wasn't completely certain what would happen, but it wasn't a risk he was prepared to take blindly, either.
"Sam," Ruby insisted.
Sam took a deep breath and launched into an exorcism rite, but he didn't get more than three words in before Ruby waved a hand and the demon vanished.
"What the fuck, Sam?" she demanded, rounding on him. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"There was a human being in there," Sam said, starting to get angry himself. "What did you think I -"
"Do you think the crossroads demon is going to do you the favor of turning up in her real form?" Ruby demanded. "You think there's even a chance she won't turn up in the body of the prettiest woman she can find, the one she thinks will most remind you of your dead girlfriend? And what are you going to do when that happens, when it comes down to some random woman's life and your conscience, or your brother? He got lucky, threatening her with an exorcism once. She's not going to fall for that again. And you can't make a deal with her, because you'd need two now, one for Dean's soul and one for his life, and you've nothing to offer her but your own soul. You're going to have to compel her, Sam." She glared at him. "And believe me, she's a proud, independent old bitch who doesn't like taking orders from anyone. You're going to need all the practice you can get, and you're going to need to be able to back up your threats, and if you keep trying to get out of even the easiest tests, you're just wasting both of our time!"
Sam opened his mouth, but she hadn't finished yet.
"I agreed to try to help you on one condition, Sam, do you remember? You said you were ready to go through with it this time, to pay the price and to ditch your ridiculous notions of right and wrong. But the moment you have to go beyond ordering something to pick up a rock, you wimp out. You can't impose your will, and the reason you can't is that you still don't want to. And that's fine." Ruby smiled at him nastily. "If you're not interested in saving your brother's soul after all, then that's just fine."
Sam couldn't help the rage that swelled up in him at that. How dare she even suggest -
He threw his hand out in the direction of the circle. She wanted him to impose his will? She wanted him to kill a demon? Fine. Sam had just the right fucking demon in mind.
"Casey!" he yelled, throwing his will behind the name.
If he'd been less furious, Ruby and Dean's simultaneous shocked gasps would have been hilarious, but Sam's attention was entirely on the figure that had just appeared in the circle. "Stop. Stay here, within that circle," he ordered, staring at it.
Casey didn't look quite how he remembered her. He could see now why people had commented on how pale she was, because it really didn't look natural. She looked like someone who'd been dead and come back, and Sam guessed that wouldn't really be a good look on anyone.
Her eyes were wide and alarmed as she looked around the clearing, her gaze pausing on Ruby for a moment before returning to Sam.
"Sam," Dean said, sounding a bit off-balance. "Dude - look, she wasn't the one who killed me, all right? It wasn't her. She tried to save me, okay, so -"
"I want you to tell me only the truth," Sam snapped at Casey, speaking over his brother. "And I want you to answer my questions. You can start off by telling me who killed my brother."
"Sam," Ruby said warningly.
"My lover," Casey said. She sounded like the words were being forced out of her against her will. "You knew him by the name Father Gil."
Sam hadn't really doubted that Dean was telling him the truth - though the thought that he might be trying to protect Casey again had crossed his mind, admittedly - but as control questions went, it was a good way to check that she was telling him the truth.
"Sam, what are you doing?" Ruby asked.
"Imposing my will," Sam said bluntly. "You wanted me to kill someone, right? Well, here's someone I want to kill. I just want some information first." He refocused on Casey. "Why did the two of you do it?"
Casey's eyes widened, like she hadn't expected that question and was alarmed by it. "He wanted payback. I wanted to help you - I was told it would. But I liked Dean, so I changed my mind."
"Help me?" Sam demanded in disbelief. "How the fuck was murdering my brother supposed to help me?"
"The fuck?" Dean muttered at the same time.
"Help you to become who you're meant to be," Casey said, the words forced out between her teeth. "She - no, please -" She moaned, as if in pain. "Said it was the only way -"
Her head suddenly snapped round at an unnatural angle, with a sickening crunch of bones breaking, and her body slumped to the ground, eyes already glazed over.
Sam stared, then turned to stare at Ruby, who was lowering her hand.
"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed, suddenly shifting across the clearing. Sam saw him crouch down beside Casey's corpse, but he kept his own attention on Ruby, staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"That's the kind of killing I was talking about," Ruby said briskly. "She was fighting your will, doing everything she could to avoid obeying you and telling you what you wanted to know. And when that happens, you're going to need to be able to back up your threats as a warning to others -"
"Stay where you are, Ruby," Sam said slowly. Throwing the full weight of his will behind his words was suddenly absurdly easy. "I want you to answer my questions and tell me only the truth."
Ruby shut her mouth abruptly, her eyes wide.
"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed again, more quietly. "I should have goddamn known."
"The 'she' Casey referred to," Sam said. "Who is that?"
Ruby's mouth worked for a moment before she finally choked out, "Me."
The fury Sam felt was like nothing he'd ever known before. It was only with a supreme effort that he managed to pull himself together to ask his next question. "Why? What did you want to achieve?"
"I wanted -" Ruby bared her teeth, looking as if she was fighting against the compulsion. "Wanted this. Wanted you to tap into your true nature and take command of the armies of Hell."
Sam forced himself not to think about that for now, shutting down each thing she said into a separate compartment. He could deal with it all later; right now he needed to learn the truth. "What was in it for you?"
"Power behind the throne," Ruby admitted painfully. "The one who controlled you..."
"But why Dean?" Sam demanded. "Why did you have to go after him?"
"Because it wasn't working," Ruby said. "You kept clinging to all your stupid principles, and even when you laid them aside, you wouldn't sacrifice them entirely. I needed you desperate. And even though you kept him in the dark, your goddamn brother somehow kept you from going over the edge, and I thought losing him would destabilize you."
"So you found a pair of demons who were out for revenge," Sam said softly. "Gave them the information they needed to lure Dean there - you told them about Ben."
"Yes," Ruby admitted, her face twisting in pain. "Sam - you still need me, you're not strong enough to go up against the crossroads demon yet. I can help you - there's still a chance for you to get your brother back -"
"It's because of you my brother's dead," Sam said evenly.
He pulled out the Colt in one smooth movement and leveled it at her. "Guess you were right about it destabilizing me, though."
And he pulled the trigger.
~*~
The sound of the shot was horribly loud in the small clearing. Dean crouched next to Casey's corpse and watched the sparks of red and gold lighting up Ruby's upper body where the bullet had entered her chest. It only took a second for her eyes to glaze over and for her to collapse to the ground.
Dean stared, his mind still whirling with everything Sam had forced her to admit. Jesus Christ. He'd never trusted Ruby, had always had his suspicions about her real motives, but he'd never thought that she would have gone that far to try to divide him and Sam. If only she'd known what the real consequences would be.
Sam was still just standing there, arm outstretched, the Colt held unwaveringly in his hand. He was staring at Ruby's body.
Dean got slowly to his feet and walked up behind Sam. He pressed one hand flat against Sam's spine: I'm here.
Sam inhaled slowly and lowered his arm, putting the Colt away again.
They stood together in silence for a few moments before Sam finally choked out, "Dean... Oh, god, I'm so sorry."
Dean frowned. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam."
"I was pretty sure she was using me to some extent," Sam said. The words were tumbling out of him; he seemed desperate to explain. "I'm not stupid, I knew she had her own motives, but I figured I was using her too, so - it never occurred to me she might - I never thought - oh, fuck, Dean -"
Dean moved round to stand in front of Sam, blocking his view of Ruby's body, and grabbed his upper arms as tightly as he could. "Sammy, listen to me. It's not your fault, okay? I know you were trying to save me. None of this shit was you - I know I'm the only reason you went along with it. And there was no way you could know she'd do that."
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. His eyes were filling with tears. "Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry -"
"Not your fault, Sam," Dean said again, tightening his grip on Sam's arms. He had every intention of repeating it until it began to sink in.
Sam sagged against him with a muffled sob, his arms going round Dean and clinging tightly, his head bowing to rest on Dean's shoulder. Dean held him fiercely, thankful that no matter how tall Sam was, he could always fit against him somehow when necessary.
"I've got you," Dean murmured quietly. "It's gonna be okay, Sammy."
"It's not," Sam whispered a few minutes later, his voice half-muffled against Dean's neck. "I don't know what to do, Dean. She was right, I'm not strong enough, and I don't know if it would ever have worked anyway, if she was just stringing me along. I don't know what else to do -"
Dean sighed and rubbed a hand against Sam's back, soothing as best he could. "You don't have to do anything, Sammy. You never did. I knew what I was doing when I made that deal. And I've never regretted it, not for a goddamn minute, except for watching you slip deeper into all of this."
Sam raised his head, and Dean laid a finger on his lips to keep him quiet. "None of this was you. I don't give a damn what bullshit she fed you about your 'true self' or 'destiny' or whatever. I know you, Sammy. And I'd rather wind up in hell than watch you lose yourself just to save me. So your crazy plan didn't work out? Well, I'm glad, Sam. Fuck knows I don't want to lose you, but if it's going to happen, I'd rather it be this way than her way."
Sam stared at him for a long moment, despair in his eyes, and then kissed him, hard and painful, like a deal being sealed. Dean gave himself over to it, letting everything but Sam slip away.
When Sam finally drew away, it took a few moments before Dean managed to open his eyes. When he did so, he found Sam cupping his face in his hands and staring at him, as if committing him to memory. Dean swallowed, but didn't try to pull away.
Then slowly Sam's expression shifted, the lost yearning hardening into cold determination. "No," he said quietly.
Dean frowned. "What?"
"No," Sam repeated, his hands tightening slightly against Dean's face. "No, I'm not giving up on you. This is not over yet."
Chapter Nine
Rating: R
Pairing: Eventual Sam/Dean
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: Approx. 70k for the fic as a whole.
Betas: So, so much love to zooey_glass04 and aynslee, beta readers and Ameripickers extraordinaire, for all their awesomeness. Thank you, darlings! <333
Notes: This is the fic I wrote during Nano 2007; I had only seen up to episode 3.04 (Sin City) at the time. This is therefore set post-3.04 and contains spoilers only up to that point; of course, it has now been completely overtaken by canon and is officially AU. Oh well. The fic is complete, and will be posted chapter by chapter as I sort out my life.
Summary: The first time Dean saw a demon bow to his brother, he'd been dead for ten days.
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
"Look, just tell me what the hell we're doing out here in the middle of nowhere," Dean said.
Sam stared around the clearing, only half listening. It looked exactly the way it had when he'd left just over a week ago; there was no sign that anyone had been there.
Which meant he was rapidly running out of places to look for Ruby. He'd spent two days searching for her in Cicero, the last place he'd seen her, and turned up nothing - so he'd been hoping to find her here, where she'd taken him to practice right before Dean took off for Cicero. It didn't look like she'd been back here either, though.
They were only about half an hour away from Bobby's house, and he debated again whether to check back out of the motel he'd found in the nearest town and go there instead. But he knew that Bobby wouldn't be able to help, not with this. They'd spent months researching together, gone through every book Bobby owned, checked with every contact he had. Bobby wasn't one to give up easily, particularly not on Dean, but he'd all but admitted to Sam months ago that there was nothing else he could do. Bobby wouldn't be able to help them, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to go there with Dean, not while his brother was still unstable.
He looked helplessly around the clearing again. He guessed it was his own fault. Ruby could be helpful when she wanted to be, but she was temperamental, too. She hadn't argued nearly enough back in Cicero when Sam told her to go away and leave him alone to mourn his brother. Sam didn't feel bad about that - he'd slowly started to trust Ruby to some degree, over the months, but she wasn't exactly someone whose feelings he worried about hurting - but he did suspect she'd taken offence and was refusing to get in touch with him. It had been over a week, the longest she'd gone without contacting him in months.
Knowing her, she's probably been watching me this whole time and just won't let me see her.
Dean sighed. "Sam, I know you're pissed at me, okay? I get that. But - I don't know what else you want me to say. I should have told you, I was just worried you'd do something stupid."
Sam looked around again. He wasn't really giving Dean the silent treatment; he wasn't pissed - well, okay, he was pissed, in fact he was fucking furious, but that wasn't productive and he'd no time for anything unproductive. He wasn't about to waste what time he had with Dean by refusing to speak to him. But he'd spent so many months keeping to himself everything about his efforts to break Dean's deal and everything Ruby told him and showed him; it was a hard habit to break.
Plus he was pretty sure Dean wasn't going to react well, and Sam had decided to put off that argument for as long as possible.
Which could well be indefinitely, at this rate. Where the hell was she?
Sam glanced at his watch, a nervous habit he'd developed since Dean had told him the truth three days ago. God, this was fucking ridiculous. How long was she going to make him search for her? He didn't have time for this. Dean didn't have time.
"Ruby!" he yelled.
He heard Dean's "What?", but his attention was taken up by the voice behind him that said, "Well, well. Look who's finally come calling."
Sam turned around to meet her gaze. Ruby wore a mocking smile, but her eyes were cold and hard.
"Sam, no," Dean said, off to his side. "Jesus, Sam, I don't want you to -"
"Where have you been?" Sam asked her, ignoring Dean.
Ruby tilted her head. "Why, Sam, I didn't know you cared." Her smile faded. "You're the one who told me to go away and leave you alone. Now you've got the nerve to complain that I did what you said?" Her smile returned, crueler. "I didn't want to disturb you during your... time of grief."
"...Such a fucking bitch," Dean muttered, keeping his distance.
"You knew, didn't you?" Sam said. "You knew Dean's deal was still running."
"It's not like you gave me a chance to tell you," Ruby said. "Shut up and go away and leave me alone were your words, I believe. I did offer to help you, Sam, but you weren't interested." She turned away, as if about to walk out of the clearing. "So good luck."
"Don't, Sam," Dean said. "Don't you dare fall for that trick -"
"Ruby, I need your help," Sam said. "Will you help me?"
He ignored Dean's groan and kept his eyes on her. She turned around slowly, her mocking smile now replaced by a serious expression.
"On one condition," Ruby said.
"Here it comes," Dean muttered.
"You've got to leave behind all those pretty scruples and issues that were holding you back before," Ruby said. "There's no time left for messing around. You do what I tell you, and you work like hell. Pardon the expression." She smiled in a way which showed there had been nothing accidental about it. "That's my condition, Sam. You need to be willing to do what it takes this time. Whatever the price."
"Sam, no," Dean repeated. "Dude, I trusted Meg more than I trust this bitch - at least we knew where we stood with her. Whatever it is she wants you to do, it's not worth it. Please, Sam."
Sam kept his eyes on Ruby. He thought about the ritual he'd been ready to perform, back in the necromancer's house; thought about lying awake in an empty bed, and the feeling of his lips on Dean's. He'd already set aside his scruples and ethics. She wasn't asking anything new of him: he'd already crossed all his lines and been happy to pay the price.
"Done," he said.
~*~
The first time Dean saw a demon bow to his brother, he'd been dead for ten days.
He'd yelled himself hoarse while Ruby and Sam set up a circle to summon demons to, but Ruby couldn't hear him and Sam was a stubborn bastard who wouldn't let himself be distracted, not even when Dean sang fifty verses about bottles of beer on the wall. Not even when Dean lost it and tried shoving him - finally desperate enough to risk touching him, something he'd been avoiding now he knew what his touch could do to Sam, the way he could drain him. Once they'd finished marking out the circle with rocks, though, Dean gave up on his attempts to interfere, because no matter how much he wanted to stop Sam, he wasn't about to risk distracting him when he was in danger.
"Ready?" Ruby said, not really a question. She turned towards the circle without bothering to wait for a response.
"Sam," Dean tried again. "C'mon, Sammy, please, don't do this -"
He cut off as something took shape inside the circle. Something that almost looked like the ghost of a little girl, until you saw the eyes. It wasn't a ghost - not Lara - but the resemblance was enough to make Dean shudder. He spared a moment to at least be grateful that it wasn't possessing anyone: this was its own form, and there was no little girl trapped in there somewhere.
"Stay," Sam commanded as the demon lunged for the edge of the circle, and it seemed to rebound off an invisible barrier at the edge of the circle, turning to glare at Sam instead. And then - bending slowly, obviously against its will - it bowed to Sam.
Ruby didn't even tell him to make the demon do it, and maybe that was worst part of all: that this was so clearly routine for Sam now.
"Oh fuck, Sam," Dean muttered, feeling sick. "What the hell has happened to you?"
Sam's lips tightened, but that was the only sign that he was even aware of his presence.
"So, let's see just how much you've forgotten," Ruby said, walking away from the circle to stand behind Sam.
Dean kept his mouth shut for the rest of their 'practice session', standing on the edge of the clearing and watching silently. Mostly it was small stuff, Sam commanding the demon to fetch things, to say things, to move things. That was no comfort. Ruby kept up a stream of needling comments, criticizing moments of hesitation that Dean couldn't see, telling Sam that he wasn't trying.
She was going to pay, Dean told himself. Somehow, he was going to find a way to make her pay for doing this to Sam.
He felt... exhausted. And sick. And angry. He found himself grinding his teeth as Ruby taunted his brother again. She had no right. She...
"Come on, Sam!" Ruby snapped. "I thought you wanted to save that brother of yours? You don't have time for these scruples!"
Dean hissed at her, at the threat in her tone; he could feel his hands shifting, hooking into claws.
That made Sam look in his direction, for the first time in hours. He was frowning, but something flared in his eyes before he turned back to Ruby. "The sun'll be up soon."
Ruby looked at him for a long moment, and Dean hissed again. He didn't like her standing so close to Sam, didn't like her looking at him like that. He should...
"Fine," Ruby said, before Dean figured out exactly what it was he wanted to do. "Then finish it."
Sam didn't move for a moment, and Ruby tilted her head. "I knew you'd lost your edge. You're holding back on killing demons now, Sam? You're going to just let this one go? Let it tell others that you're weak? That they can afford to go up against you?"
The demon in the circle snarled. Without looking over, Sam said, "Shut up," and it fell silent.
Dean found himself hissing again, quiet and constant. He didn't like the look on his brother's face, not even when Sam glanced across at him.
"Well?" Ruby asked, voice sharp with impatience. "I don't have -"
She was cut off as Sam pulled out the Colt, turned and fired in one smooth move at the demon in the circle.
"Slow," Ruby said, as the demon's form dissolved into dark smoke, sparks glowing for a moment until the air cleared entirely. "You can't afford hesitation like that, Sam. Tomorrow you'd better be faster."
Sam didn't say anything, just tucked the Colt away again and moved towards Dean. It wasn't until he saw the uncertainty in Sam's eyes that Dean realized he was still hissing, teeth bared as he snarled at Ruby. The subtle touch of his brother's hand on his arm brought him back to himself a little, and he focused on Sam again.
"See you tonight, Ruby," was all Sam said, then he dropped his hand and walked out of the clearing.
Thinking straight was difficult, but Dean didn't need to think: just snarled at Ruby one last time and then shifted to his brother's side, drifting along with him in the direction of the car.
"Hey," Sam murmured under his breath, once they were a good distance from the clearing. His hand was reassuringly solid, wrapped around Dean's wrist, and Dean felt the world shift more into focus. "You - okay?"
"Don't like her," Dean said, but it was already fading - the reason why he was angry with her, if not the anger itself. The clearing already seemed like something unreal.
The shadows on Sam's face, though, touching his jaw and his cheek and his eyes... they were real.
"Hey," Sam said again, and Dean blinked at the realization that they were back at the car, though he'd no memory of reaching it. "C'mon, let's - let's get back to the motel, okay? You'll feel better once we're back there."
Dean didn't argue, just shifted inside the car, staring abstractedly as Sam opened the door and crammed himself inside in the more conventional manner. He couldn't take his eyes off his brother now; the rest of his surroundings seemed faded and grey, even though the dawn light was now starting to bring color back into the world.
Shouldn't... he thought dimly. Dangerous... But he was already pressing up against Sam's side, irresistibly drawn to the warmth and the tingle of electricity that fed through him when they touched.
"Dean. Hey, Dean. Dean." Sam's voice finally penetrated the haze that had come over him, and Dean blinked and focused on his brother's face. Sam looked... exhausted. Worried. Dean reached out, wanting to comfort him, only to lose his train of thought entirely when his fingers brushed Sam's face and sensation shot through him.
"C'mon," Sam said. "Dean, we're here, let's - let's just go inside, and then... it's going to be okay, I promise. C'mon, our room's right over there -"
Dean couldn't really follow any of what Sam was saying, but he could still follow Sam, shifting to stay close even as his brother was moving, until finally, finally, Sam stopped moving away, turning to him instead.
"Dean," Sam said. His voice sounded... wrong, Dean was dimly aware. "Oh god, Dean. I've got you, come here -"
And then Sam was touching him, his mouth sending jolts of energy through him, and Dean suddenly remembered enough to realize why he shouldn't be touching Sam, realize what his brother was doing for him, the sacrifice he was making. Then Sam's lips pressed against his, and the moment of clarity was swept away in the flood of energy rushing through him.
~*~
It was late afternoon when Dean left Sam still sleeping in bed and paced across the room to peer through the crack in the drapes at the cars driving past outside.
They'd fallen into a routine of sorts, over the week since Sam had brought them there. Each night they went back out to the clearing and Sam 'worked' with Ruby until dawn. Dean hated it, hated her, hated what she was doing to his brother. Part of him wanted to be angry with Sam for what he was doing. But when Sam had died, Dean had driven to the nearest crossroads and made a deal with a demon. How could he blame Sam for turning to Ruby? At least his brother wasn't selling his soul, though sometimes the look on Sam's face made Dean worry that he was making a far worse sacrifice.
Dean hated the nights.
The mornings weren't much better. After a long night of watching Sam order demons around, Dean found himself... slipping. Before his run-in with the shade, that had only happened when he had exhausted himself, but now it was happening every day. Dean still wasn't sure whether the shade had caused it, or whether it was just the gradual onset of madness the crossroads demon and Thomas had both insisted was inevitable. It started out with him feeling exhausted, and the world turning hazy and unreal around him, the way it used to after he'd lost a lot of blood, back when he was alive. He never remembered much of what happened after that: it was like a fever dream. Sam had been tight-lipped when Dean had asked him, but he'd got the impression he acted... like a ghost. A dangerous ghost.
The kind of ghost they normally hunted.
By the time he came back to himself enough to be aware of his surroundings, he was always back in the motel room with Sam. Clinging to Sam, really. Even once he was aware again, it always took a while before he was strong and stable enough to let go or move away. Sam never laughed at him, just kept touching him, and Dean felt strength flooding in with every touch.
He wasn't so far gone that he hadn't figured out what that meant. He knew Sam's own exhaustion wasn't due only to what he was doing with Ruby. Dean knew he was feeding off his brother's strength; he just didn't know what to do about it. By the time it happened he was always too far out of it to realize what was going on, and Sam didn't seem inclined to put a stop to it.
Dean was trying to avoid touching his brother now, trying to stay away for as long as he could, but it didn't seem to be helping. If anything, it just meant he started slipping quicker. Last night he hadn't even been able to hold out until dawn. He could dimly recall staggering across the clearing to lean against Sam, unable to handle being even a few feet away from any more. After that, everything was hazy.
The kissing was another thing. The energy that shot through him whenever they kissed was even more intense than when Sam touched him. Dean was almost certain that it hadn't started out as kissing, exactly, that it had been... well, something else. But each time he'd come round in their bed that week, Sam had been kissing him, and hadn't stopped until Dean had finally found the strength to pull away.
It was getting harder to find that strength, and Dean wasn't sure what that meant.
Once Dean came round enough to move away from Sam and over to his own side of the bed, Sam always fell asleep. Dean suspected his brother forced himself to stay awake until he was a bit closer to sanity again, though he didn't know whether that was just Sam's concern for him or his concern about what Dean might do. In the evening, Sam generally woke up just in time to eat something before they headed back out to the clearing.
They didn't really talk any more. There wasn't anything to be said. Sam was dead-set on his strategy of trusting in Ruby and hoping a plan would materialize; Dean had given up on trying to talk him out of it.
Dean turned away from the window with a sigh and stared at Sam, who was lying sprawled across his half of the bed.
He hated this. He deeply and truly hated this, more than he'd hated just about any situation before. He hated what Sam was going through for him. He hated that he was losing control of himself. He hated that he had only just over three weeks left with his brother, and they were going to spend them like this, with Sam being dazzled by demons and never talking to each other and only touching when he was too crazy to stop himself.
Sam shifted in his sleep with a faint moan, and Dean caught himself hissing, feeling his teeth lengthen instinctively at the idea of a threat to Sam. He forced himself to close his eyes and breathe deeply until he felt more stable again, and then he crossed slowly back to the bed, lying down next to Sam. He stared at his brother's back, and tried to think what to do.
Killing himself wasn't an option, for the obvious reason that dying hadn't really solved any problems for him so far. In theory, he could try to torch his corpse, but Sam showed no inclination to go to Bobby's, and Dean couldn't go very far from his side. Besides, he'd promised Sam he wouldn't do that. It was a promise he'd be willing to break if he thought it was necessary, but it didn't look like he was going to get a chance.
He couldn't talk Sam out of this insanity, and he couldn't see any way to force him to stop either. The only hope was that Sam might come to his senses of his own accord, as far as Dean could see. Or that failing would somehow not result in Sam's death.
All Dean knew was that they couldn't carry on like this. If he only had three weeks left, this wasn't how he was going out. He might not be able to convince Sam to stop working with Ruby and drive down to the Grand Canyon with him, but that didn't mean he had to spend all of his time with Sam, clinging to Sam, without ever really making contact.
If he could only have three weeks with his brother, then he was going to goddamn have those three weeks with Sam. And he was going to damn well have every piece of Sam he could, not this silent, distant shadow of his brother.
Dean reached out and touched a finger lightly to Sam's bare back. He held it there for a moment, worried that he'd feel the faint tingling that meant he was drawing on his brother again, but there was nothing, just the warmth of Sam's skin against his.
When had he last touched Sam while he was sane enough to know what he was doing?
Sam shifted uneasily in his sleep, his brow wrinkling. Dean swallowed.
Fuck this. I'm going to touch him. I'm going to talk to him. I'm going to damn well make sure we have something good in these last few weeks. I'm not letting any demon take everything away from us.
He ran his finger gently up Sam's spine, then traced over his forehead, smoothing gently over the lines there. It was... strange, both new and not: he had vague memories of touching his brother like this, but they hovered just out of reach, refusing to come into focus.
Sam's eyes opened suddenly, narrowing in instantly on his, and Dean saw his brother draw the logical assumption from his touch.
"Dean? Are you okay?" Sam asked, worry shading his voice. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist.
Dean held his breath, but there was still no tingle of energy being transferred between them. He guessed that meant he was as sane as he was ever going to get. It was oddly reassuring to know.
Sam's eyes snapped back to his, the realization evidently dawning on him too that Dean couldn't be touching him for energy, not this time. Dean met his gaze steadily.
"Dean?" Sam murmured again. He sounded confused, but he hadn't released Dean's wrist.
He was losing Sam. He was losing himself. But right now he was sane, and Sam was right there. Whatever he said now, Sam would listen. He could tell Sam that he didn't want to go to hell. He could tell Sam that he was scared shitless of what Sam might do trying to prevent it. He could tell Sam that he didn't regret what he'd done.
Instead, Dean leaned over and kissed him.
Sam's lips were warm against his, responding automatically, allowing Dean to take what he needed. Dean drew back and met Sam's eyes, because that wasn't what this was about, not this time.
Sam's eyes were wide, and Dean knew he'd felt the difference. He hadn't drained Sam's energy; this kiss had been about offering, not taking. He was sane right now, and though he hadn't known he was going to kiss Sam before he'd done it, he still knew exactly what he was doing.
"I'm not letting you go."
For a moment Dean wasn't sure which of them had said it, but the way Sam blinked and the look in his brother's eyes made him realize it had been him.
"I'm not," he repeated, stumbling over the words. "It's just - I need you, okay, and not just because... Sammy. Don't think that all this shit that's happened is why, okay? There's a reason why I fucking cling to you when I don't know up from down. You were the only thing I was sure of long before all of this happened, okay? So don't think that's why. I didn't know I could want this before, but I do. And maybe I only actually went ahead and did it because I was crazy, but that's not the reason I wanted to." He swallowed. "And I'm not crazy now."
Sane or not, he wasn't sure he was making much sense, but something must have gotten through to his brother, because Sam pressed him back against the bed and kissed him.
It wasn't like the gentle semi-kisses they'd shared when Dean was finding his way back from slipping, all about the connection and I've got you. It was fierce and raw and despairing, I'm losing you and I can't take it and I won't let you go. Dean kissed him back, putting as much of himself into it as he could, trying to show Sam everything he couldn't find the words for.
"Dean," Sam muttered between kisses. "Dean, I - I can't lose you, I can't, you're - you're everything, you don't even know -"
"I'm right here," Dean murmured back, the best he could do without making a promise he couldn't keep.
He knew Sam had heard what he hadn't said as clearly as what he had, because Sam's hands closed around his wrists almost tight enough to hurt, holding on desperately.
Dean kissed him again, not trying to distract him, simply to remind him. I'm here now. Don't waste it.
Sam gasped against his lips, and Dean felt the shudder that ran through his brother's body as the message sank in. Then Sam released his wrists and closed his hands around his face instead, tilting Dean's head to deepen the kiss, less despairing but no less fierce.
Dean gave himself over to it, one hand tangling in Sam's hair, the other pressing against his back, tugging Sam down to lie fully on top of him. It was overwhelming. Now that Dean could touch so little, even slight contact had taken on huge meaning; with Sam, the only real thing in his world, the sensation was enough to make it hard to breathe. Sam might not be transferring energy to him, but every inch of physical contact was making him real, nonetheless.
Sam kissed his way along the curve of his jaw, and Dean couldn't help the ridiculous noise he made. Sam laughed, hot and low against his skin, and Dean thought that was the best sound he'd heard from Sam since his death.
"We're doing this," Sam said. It wasn't really a question.
"Fuck yeah," Dean said, and flipped them, pinning Sam beneath him.
Sam flushed, though not from embarrassment: Dean could see heat spark in his eyes, and he had to kiss Sam again before he found himself saying something unforgivably mushy. Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling their bodies flush together, and Dean moaned into his mouth at the warmth of Sam's bare chest against him.
He broke away and began kissing his way down Sam's throat, running his hands across his brother's chest, feeling his heartbeat accelerate beneath his hand.
"Your clothes," Sam said, tugging at the sleeve of the ghostly leather jacket Dean was still wearing.
"Don't think I can take them off," Dean murmured against his skin. He laughed under his breath, able to appreciate the ridiculousness of the situation. "Hell, Sam, I don't even know if I can fucking... do this without a body."
Sam's hands touched his face, forcing him to lift his head and meet his gaze. His brother was looking very serious now. "We don't have to. You know that, right?"
"I want to," Dean said. "You're just gonna need to be a bit creative, that's all."
A slow, hot grin spread across Sam's face. "Creative, huh? I can do that." And before Dean had a chance to process it, Sam's hands were sliding beneath his shirt, stroking along his stomach and trailing slowly up his back.
"Fuck," Dean cursed, and had to bury his head against Sam's neck, sucking at his pulse-point and trying to hold it together. Not to be outdone, he ran a hand down Sam's side, tracing his hip bone before stroking across his thigh. It was Sam's turn to curse, then, but Dean's grin of satisfaction was lost when Sam bucked up and Dean felt his brother's erection grinding against him.
Holy fuck, they really were doing this.
Sam slid one hand lower, working it inside Dean's jeans, and Dean gasped, shuddering helplessly beneath Sam's touch.
"Hell yes," Sam murmured. "Fuck, Dean, you look -"
"Jesus," Dean said, and slid a hand between them, not bothering to take Sam's shorts off, just slipping his hand inside them and curling it around Sam's erection, squeezing gently.
Sam threw his head back, moaning, and Dean felt the blast of desire sweeping through his brother. Over the past few weeks he'd gotten good at not picking up on Sam's emotions too clearly, even when they were touching, but whatever barriers he'd put in place to block them had come crashing down, or maybe he was just so focused on his brother that he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with how Sam was feeling.
Currently, though, he had no complaints whatsoever about picking up on it, because holy shit it felt good.
"Dean," Sam gasped. "Jesus, Dean, please -"
"I got you," Dean said, and began jacking him, slow and steady.
The angle was unfamiliar and awkward, but the way Sam moaned and writhed against him was quite possibly the best thing ever. Dean muffled a groan of his own against Sam's shoulder as his brother wrapped a hand around his cock in turn. It was almost too much, feeling the hot pleasure pounding through Sam as well as his own.
"Oh, fuck," he muttered. "Sam, Sammy -" He bit down against Sam's throat, sucking hard.
"Dean," Sam groaned, and Dean felt his brother's orgasm hit, carrying them both over the edge and into dazed pleasure.
It was several minutes before Dean could even move. "Holy fuck," he murmured indistinctly against Sam's throat.
Sam laughed weakly. "Yeah. Did you, um..."
Dean wasn't sure whether he'd actually come - he still had his doubts about that being possible without a real body - but picking up on Sam's orgasm had felt as close to the real thing as to make no difference. "Yeah," he said, keeping things simple.
"Okay," Sam said. He still sounded slightly dazed.
Dean forced himself to move into a more comfortable position for them both, lying next to Sam with their legs tangled together and his hand above Sam's heart, listening to his heartbeat gradually slowing. Sam turned his head to look at him, smiling softly.
Dean just watched him. Nothing had changed, he knew that. In another hour they'd still go out to the clearing, and Ruby would drag Sam even further down a path he never should have been on in the first place. A few hours after that, Dean would start slipping again, losing himself until Sam brought him back. His time would still be up in three weeks. Nothing had changed.
Except that Sam was with him now, in a way he hadn't been before. And that was the only thing Dean had ever really wanted.
"You okay?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean smiled, because for the first time in a long time, he was. "Yeah. You should get some more sleep, Sammy."
Sam looked at him for a moment and then leaned in to snag a quick kiss, which turned into a slightly longer kiss when he seemed to realize Dean had no problems with it. He didn't say anything when he drew back again, just closed his eyes, his head still turned in Dean's direction.
Dean listened to the sound of his brother's breathing and let it lull him into rest, even if sleep was beyond him.
~*~
"- So I'll summon it, and then I want you to kill it," Ruby said.
"You don't want me to practice giving it orders first?" Sam asked. He'd been uneasy, the first few times Ruby had told him to kill one of the demons she'd summoned at random, but she'd just laughed at him, pointed out that killing demons was what he spent his life trying to do, and wasn't this a bad time to be having second thoughts about it? Sam couldn't help but feel that there had to be a difference between hunting demons and summoning them to shoot them in cold blood, but he had to admit that he was probably on shaky moral ground there. And when he thought about it, fewer demons had to be a good thing, right? If he had a weapon which could destroy them, surely he had a duty to use it?
But until now that had always come at the end of one of their practice sessions. Summoning a demon and killing it right away seemed a bit of a waste.
"No, this time I just want you to kill it," Ruby said, though her slight smirk told Sam that there was more to it than that.
"Okay," he said, nonetheless, and took out the Colt.
"Ah ah ah," Ruby said chidingly, her smirk now a full-blown grin. "Put the gun away, Sam."
Sam frowned. "What exactly are you trying to get me to do?"
"You're too dependent on that gun," Ruby told him. "You need to start learning to impose your will without it. I don't want you to shoot this demon - I want you to kill it yourself."
Sam stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me," Ruby said, and laughed at whatever she saw in his expression. "I'm not asking you to get into a fist-fight with it, Sam. You've been practicing imposing your will - well, this time I want you to impose your will on this demon and kill it. I don't mind how you do it, whether you will it out of existence, or tell it to stop breathing, or order it to return to Hell, or... well, the possibilities are just endless, aren't they?"
The relish in her voice made Sam feel slightly nauseous, but he supposed he could see her point. He'd grown used to having the Colt, not just as a last resort, but as the most effective and final way of dealing with demons and the supernatural generally. Maybe he had started relying on it too much. Besides, did it really make that much of a difference, whether he shot a demon or dealt with it some other way?
He tucked the Colt away again, trying to prepare himself mentally. He could feel Dean's eyes on his back from where he was standing on the edge of the clearing, but his brother had quickly given up on trying to interfere during the practice sessions. He still insisted on trying to talk Sam out of what he was doing when they were alone, though, and Sam had no doubt that Dean would be giving him a piece of his mind later.
He tried to put it out of his mind. Dean was the one he was doing this for.
Sam didn't hear Ruby say anything, but all of a sudden there was a demon standing inside the circle of rocks. She was tall and pretty and dark-haired, but when she blinked in surprise, her eyes were black.
"Stop. Stay here, within that circle," Sam ordered at once, throwing as much of his will behind the words as he could. He always began with that, no matter what Ruby wanted him to practice afterwards; it was best to take care of it first, and it also meant that if he came across a demon he wasn't strong enough to control, he would find out fast enough to try something else.
"Get on with it, Sam," Ruby said impatiently.
Sam stared at the demon and swallowed. It didn't matter what he told himself - it looked human. Right now it even looked frightened. And, for that matter, this one was possessing a human being. If he killed it, the woman would die too. He would have to try to drive the demon out and back to hell, instead.
Except that an exorcism was traumatic and dangerous enough for the victim. If he tried to force the demon out just by the strength of his will... well, he wasn't completely certain what would happen, but it wasn't a risk he was prepared to take blindly, either.
"Sam," Ruby insisted.
Sam took a deep breath and launched into an exorcism rite, but he didn't get more than three words in before Ruby waved a hand and the demon vanished.
"What the fuck, Sam?" she demanded, rounding on him. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"There was a human being in there," Sam said, starting to get angry himself. "What did you think I -"
"Do you think the crossroads demon is going to do you the favor of turning up in her real form?" Ruby demanded. "You think there's even a chance she won't turn up in the body of the prettiest woman she can find, the one she thinks will most remind you of your dead girlfriend? And what are you going to do when that happens, when it comes down to some random woman's life and your conscience, or your brother? He got lucky, threatening her with an exorcism once. She's not going to fall for that again. And you can't make a deal with her, because you'd need two now, one for Dean's soul and one for his life, and you've nothing to offer her but your own soul. You're going to have to compel her, Sam." She glared at him. "And believe me, she's a proud, independent old bitch who doesn't like taking orders from anyone. You're going to need all the practice you can get, and you're going to need to be able to back up your threats, and if you keep trying to get out of even the easiest tests, you're just wasting both of our time!"
Sam opened his mouth, but she hadn't finished yet.
"I agreed to try to help you on one condition, Sam, do you remember? You said you were ready to go through with it this time, to pay the price and to ditch your ridiculous notions of right and wrong. But the moment you have to go beyond ordering something to pick up a rock, you wimp out. You can't impose your will, and the reason you can't is that you still don't want to. And that's fine." Ruby smiled at him nastily. "If you're not interested in saving your brother's soul after all, then that's just fine."
Sam couldn't help the rage that swelled up in him at that. How dare she even suggest -
He threw his hand out in the direction of the circle. She wanted him to impose his will? She wanted him to kill a demon? Fine. Sam had just the right fucking demon in mind.
"Casey!" he yelled, throwing his will behind the name.
If he'd been less furious, Ruby and Dean's simultaneous shocked gasps would have been hilarious, but Sam's attention was entirely on the figure that had just appeared in the circle. "Stop. Stay here, within that circle," he ordered, staring at it.
Casey didn't look quite how he remembered her. He could see now why people had commented on how pale she was, because it really didn't look natural. She looked like someone who'd been dead and come back, and Sam guessed that wouldn't really be a good look on anyone.
Her eyes were wide and alarmed as she looked around the clearing, her gaze pausing on Ruby for a moment before returning to Sam.
"Sam," Dean said, sounding a bit off-balance. "Dude - look, she wasn't the one who killed me, all right? It wasn't her. She tried to save me, okay, so -"
"I want you to tell me only the truth," Sam snapped at Casey, speaking over his brother. "And I want you to answer my questions. You can start off by telling me who killed my brother."
"Sam," Ruby said warningly.
"My lover," Casey said. She sounded like the words were being forced out of her against her will. "You knew him by the name Father Gil."
Sam hadn't really doubted that Dean was telling him the truth - though the thought that he might be trying to protect Casey again had crossed his mind, admittedly - but as control questions went, it was a good way to check that she was telling him the truth.
"Sam, what are you doing?" Ruby asked.
"Imposing my will," Sam said bluntly. "You wanted me to kill someone, right? Well, here's someone I want to kill. I just want some information first." He refocused on Casey. "Why did the two of you do it?"
Casey's eyes widened, like she hadn't expected that question and was alarmed by it. "He wanted payback. I wanted to help you - I was told it would. But I liked Dean, so I changed my mind."
"Help me?" Sam demanded in disbelief. "How the fuck was murdering my brother supposed to help me?"
"The fuck?" Dean muttered at the same time.
"Help you to become who you're meant to be," Casey said, the words forced out between her teeth. "She - no, please -" She moaned, as if in pain. "Said it was the only way -"
Her head suddenly snapped round at an unnatural angle, with a sickening crunch of bones breaking, and her body slumped to the ground, eyes already glazed over.
Sam stared, then turned to stare at Ruby, who was lowering her hand.
"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed, suddenly shifting across the clearing. Sam saw him crouch down beside Casey's corpse, but he kept his own attention on Ruby, staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"That's the kind of killing I was talking about," Ruby said briskly. "She was fighting your will, doing everything she could to avoid obeying you and telling you what you wanted to know. And when that happens, you're going to need to be able to back up your threats as a warning to others -"
"Stay where you are, Ruby," Sam said slowly. Throwing the full weight of his will behind his words was suddenly absurdly easy. "I want you to answer my questions and tell me only the truth."
Ruby shut her mouth abruptly, her eyes wide.
"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed again, more quietly. "I should have goddamn known."
"The 'she' Casey referred to," Sam said. "Who is that?"
Ruby's mouth worked for a moment before she finally choked out, "Me."
The fury Sam felt was like nothing he'd ever known before. It was only with a supreme effort that he managed to pull himself together to ask his next question. "Why? What did you want to achieve?"
"I wanted -" Ruby bared her teeth, looking as if she was fighting against the compulsion. "Wanted this. Wanted you to tap into your true nature and take command of the armies of Hell."
Sam forced himself not to think about that for now, shutting down each thing she said into a separate compartment. He could deal with it all later; right now he needed to learn the truth. "What was in it for you?"
"Power behind the throne," Ruby admitted painfully. "The one who controlled you..."
"But why Dean?" Sam demanded. "Why did you have to go after him?"
"Because it wasn't working," Ruby said. "You kept clinging to all your stupid principles, and even when you laid them aside, you wouldn't sacrifice them entirely. I needed you desperate. And even though you kept him in the dark, your goddamn brother somehow kept you from going over the edge, and I thought losing him would destabilize you."
"So you found a pair of demons who were out for revenge," Sam said softly. "Gave them the information they needed to lure Dean there - you told them about Ben."
"Yes," Ruby admitted, her face twisting in pain. "Sam - you still need me, you're not strong enough to go up against the crossroads demon yet. I can help you - there's still a chance for you to get your brother back -"
"It's because of you my brother's dead," Sam said evenly.
He pulled out the Colt in one smooth movement and leveled it at her. "Guess you were right about it destabilizing me, though."
And he pulled the trigger.
~*~
The sound of the shot was horribly loud in the small clearing. Dean crouched next to Casey's corpse and watched the sparks of red and gold lighting up Ruby's upper body where the bullet had entered her chest. It only took a second for her eyes to glaze over and for her to collapse to the ground.
Dean stared, his mind still whirling with everything Sam had forced her to admit. Jesus Christ. He'd never trusted Ruby, had always had his suspicions about her real motives, but he'd never thought that she would have gone that far to try to divide him and Sam. If only she'd known what the real consequences would be.
Sam was still just standing there, arm outstretched, the Colt held unwaveringly in his hand. He was staring at Ruby's body.
Dean got slowly to his feet and walked up behind Sam. He pressed one hand flat against Sam's spine: I'm here.
Sam inhaled slowly and lowered his arm, putting the Colt away again.
They stood together in silence for a few moments before Sam finally choked out, "Dean... Oh, god, I'm so sorry."
Dean frowned. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam."
"I was pretty sure she was using me to some extent," Sam said. The words were tumbling out of him; he seemed desperate to explain. "I'm not stupid, I knew she had her own motives, but I figured I was using her too, so - it never occurred to me she might - I never thought - oh, fuck, Dean -"
Dean moved round to stand in front of Sam, blocking his view of Ruby's body, and grabbed his upper arms as tightly as he could. "Sammy, listen to me. It's not your fault, okay? I know you were trying to save me. None of this shit was you - I know I'm the only reason you went along with it. And there was no way you could know she'd do that."
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. His eyes were filling with tears. "Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry -"
"Not your fault, Sam," Dean said again, tightening his grip on Sam's arms. He had every intention of repeating it until it began to sink in.
Sam sagged against him with a muffled sob, his arms going round Dean and clinging tightly, his head bowing to rest on Dean's shoulder. Dean held him fiercely, thankful that no matter how tall Sam was, he could always fit against him somehow when necessary.
"I've got you," Dean murmured quietly. "It's gonna be okay, Sammy."
"It's not," Sam whispered a few minutes later, his voice half-muffled against Dean's neck. "I don't know what to do, Dean. She was right, I'm not strong enough, and I don't know if it would ever have worked anyway, if she was just stringing me along. I don't know what else to do -"
Dean sighed and rubbed a hand against Sam's back, soothing as best he could. "You don't have to do anything, Sammy. You never did. I knew what I was doing when I made that deal. And I've never regretted it, not for a goddamn minute, except for watching you slip deeper into all of this."
Sam raised his head, and Dean laid a finger on his lips to keep him quiet. "None of this was you. I don't give a damn what bullshit she fed you about your 'true self' or 'destiny' or whatever. I know you, Sammy. And I'd rather wind up in hell than watch you lose yourself just to save me. So your crazy plan didn't work out? Well, I'm glad, Sam. Fuck knows I don't want to lose you, but if it's going to happen, I'd rather it be this way than her way."
Sam stared at him for a long moment, despair in his eyes, and then kissed him, hard and painful, like a deal being sealed. Dean gave himself over to it, letting everything but Sam slip away.
When Sam finally drew away, it took a few moments before Dean managed to open his eyes. When he did so, he found Sam cupping his face in his hands and staring at him, as if committing him to memory. Dean swallowed, but didn't try to pull away.
Then slowly Sam's expression shifted, the lost yearning hardening into cold determination. "No," he said quietly.
Dean frowned. "What?"
"No," Sam repeated, his hands tightening slightly against Dean's face. "No, I'm not giving up on you. This is not over yet."
Chapter Nine