Fic: Weight Around My Neck - Part 3 of 3 (Sam/Dean NC-17)
~*~ Part 2~*~
Sam is happy that he wakes up first, because he gets to decide how best to wake Dean up on this, their first morning back together. His eyes travel down from Dean’s relaxed face, down to his shoulders, his waist, and just below it, the sheet is standing up in the most inviting shape. Sam’s mouth floods at the thought, it’s been so long since he’s had Dean in his mouth, oh how he’s missed that taste, that feeling of being so full he doesn’t even care about not breathing.
He slowly untangles himself from Dean, and inches the sheet down so that Dean’s exposed, happy to rediscover that Dean had slept without clothing, as that makes it easier to get to work. He scoots himself down so he’s in a better position to hover over Dean and just takes in the sight of him, mostly hard morning wood, not completely full quite yet. He licks his lips in anticipation and blows as softly as he can on the whole length. Dean stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake. Sam licks around the head and all the way down the length of Dean’s cock. He definitely wakes up then, with a mumbled, “Sammy?” Sam hums his reassurance that yes, it’s him, and Dean groans in response to the vibration that goes through him, centered where Sam’s hot, wet mouth has him enclosed in a sweet, sucking pull.
Sam’s glad that Dean’s awake now so that he can enjoy this, and so that he can look up and see Dean’s eyes on him, watching himself go in and out of Sam’s mouth. Dean throws his head back onto the pillow and lets himself thrust up into Sam’s mouth a few times, but finally he pulls Sam up by his hair, with a “stop, my turn now.”
Sam grins, with spit and pre-come sliding down his chin, he knees up closer to Dean and kisses him deeply, morning breath not mattering because of the taste of Deandeandean in his mouth. Dean pulls him up further, insistent hands under Sam’s ass, guiding him over closer to his mouth. Dean looks up at Sam with a fierce need in his eyes. “Want it Sam.”
Sam groans at that unanticipated begging tone and feeds his ready cock into Dean’s open pink mouth. He cries out loudly at the feeling of perfect suction and heat and wetness. And it’s Dean, Dean taking him apart, he almost loses himself right then and there, but he pulls himself back over the edge. He gently pulls himself out of Dean’s mouth. Without a word he goes back down Dean’s body and takes him back into his mouth, holding Dean’s hips down firmly so that Dean knows he’s not going anywhere, just has to lie there and take being manhandled by his brother like they’ve both missed so much.
Dean loses himself in the rhythm that Sam creates, alternating long, slow sucks up and down his length with quick swirls just around the head. He pushes up against Sam’s hands, trying to thrust his hips but unable to, and that’s hotter than anything. Sam’s hair flopping forward and brushing his sensitive skin, the sounds Sam’s making, all of it is perfect, just what he’s wanted all this time. Just what he was missing in Purgatory. Them, us, we.
After a few minutes of working on Dean, Sam is suddenly devastated that he’d forgotten, how could he have forgotten this? What Dean looks like when he’s strung-out and desperate? The tips of his ears warm and pink, the flush flowing down the top of his chest, eyes closed so tight in concentration. And the noises that Dean’s making, how could he have forgotten these, how they make him feel, just hearing the deep almost angry growls and moans interspersed with his name in all its various forms, Sam, Sammy, Samsamsam. It’s no wonder that he misplaced these memories during the time they were separated, out of self-preservation. But now that Dean’s back under him, coming apart, there’s no way Sam’s ever giving this up again. He takes a breath and sinks back down, taking Dean all the way in this time, swallowing around the tip of his cock as it hits the back of his throat.
Dean’s noises increase, and Sam meets his eyes which are suddenly open. The look on Dean’s face is worth everything to Sam; the surprising depth of his lust is so plainly written, that’s what taking Dean apart is about for Sam. Getting to see everything that Dean works so hard to hide. Sam hums in delight that he’s gotten him here, and Dean groans even louder at the vibration. Sam pulls off to ask, “Gonna come for me, Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy, yeah.” Dean puts one of his hands on the top of Sam’s head to hold him down and pumps up once, twice, and a final time with his hips, his body going tight all over as he yells out Sam’s name with joyful abandon. Dean falls back down, flat on his back, panting like he’s just outrun a wendigo.
Sam licks him clean and then rests his head on Dean’s thigh. Dean’s hand is still holding onto the top of Sam’s head, nails scratch-scratching back and forth so that Sam feels like arching and purring like a cat. “Sammy, god. It’s still so…”
“Yeah, I know, I heard,” Sam says, looking up the length of Dean’s body to his eyes, which are somehow glowing in the morning dimness.
“Come up here,” Dean insists, tugging lightly at Sam’s ear until he starts moving.
Sam crawls up and settles down so he covers Dean with his whole body, his hard cock poking into Dean’s belly. Framing his face between his forearms, Sam kisses Dean, licking into Dean’s mouth, sharing the taste, the essence, and it all seems so normal, but still so special that he can barely stand how good it is. Sam shivers as Dean bites his lower lip. “Hey, what do we do about you?”
“What do you want?” Sam asks, kissing and biting his way down Dean’s jaw to bite at the soft flesh underneath, scraping his lips through the stubble.
“Anything,” Dean whispers.
Sam goes still for a moment as all the images of what ‘anything’ means when Dean says it in this context come flooding into his brain. All the things they’ve done, everything that’s possible, and it all zeroes down to one thing for Sam. “Just want to be in you Dean or you in me.”
“How about both?” Dean pulls him back up and kisses him with more passion at the thought. It’s been more than a year now since he’s had this, and Sam will undoubtedly want to go slow, take forever to get him ready. And he’s guessing that it’s probably the same for Sam; they haven’t talked about it all, what he did or didn’t do with Amelia or other people while he was gone. Getting hard again is not going to be a problem.
Dean turns onto his side and pushes Sam a little so that he gets the idea that they’re both going to get each other ready at the same time. Sam gets himself turned around and into position and looks down his own body at Dean, putting two of his fingers into his own mouth. Dean does the same and then they touch each other’s holes at the same moment, an audible gasp out of both of them, fingers going in slowly, catching a little since it’s just spit, gentle movements in and out.
Sam surprises Dean by taking first one and then the other of his balls lightly into his mouth and sucking ever so gently. Once Dean has recovered from that overload of sensation, he does the same to Sam, who reacts by having to grasp at the base of his cock not to come. They add another finger at the same time so that there’s more to adjust to now. Sam’s getting more excited at the thought of how they’re doing this at the same time, aching to be in Dean, feeling his hole expand and contract, gripping onto Dean’s fingers sliding in and out of him.
Dean stops suddenly and rolls away towards the bedside table, fumbling around in the drawer for a tube of lube. He slicks up his fingers and tosses it to Sam who does the same. They both renew their efforts, the glide even better now, warming up so fast at the friction. “Can you take another Sammy?”
“Yeah Dean, ‘m ready. You?”
“Yeah, do it,” says Dean, grunting a little as Sam presses in a third long finger. He’s reaching for Dean’s prostate, but he’s at a funny angle and he’s not quite getting there. But scissoring a little makes Dean lose it for a second, rocking back onto his fingers. “I could get my whole hand in there, Dean, you’re opening up so good for me.”
“Not today baby. Maybe later.”
“I know, just want you now. ‘m ready now, you go first, c’mon Dean.”
Dean pushes Sam onto his back and turns himself around. Climbing up onto Sam, he leans down for a kiss, one that’s flavored with both of them, and the desire that’s been held back for these months they’ve been back together. They moan into each other’s mouths at the sensation of their slicked-up cocks sliding against each other.
Instead of getting between Sam’s legs like he knows Sam’s expecting him to, Dean stays right there on Sam’s lap, where he lifts himself up slightly, reaches back to hold Sam’s hard cock in place, and sinks down slowly, taking him all in.
When Dean’s sitting on him, Sam realizes that finally it feels right, because it’s real, like he’d let himself forget. He’d given up the memory of this to escape the torment of not having Dean anymore. He goes still remembering the first time he’d been with Amelia, how he had to force himself to not allow Dean in the bed with them. And when he’d succeeded, the huge sadness that had overtaken him afterwards when he realized that he’d been able to put away and wall of the memories of his brother as his lover as easily as that.
Sam can’t move, can’t be thinking this while he’s in Dean, the words escape him, even though he knows they’ll hurt Dean. “Thought you were dead. Didn’t think I’d ever have this again. Made myself forget you and me like this,” Sam says, eyes closed against all the emotion.
He sees Sam struggling with too much feeling, and Dean’s heart soars at the words he’s just heard Sam say. He knows that he can’t just expect Sam to fuck him without saying anything to acknowledge them. “Look at me, Sam. Sammy, c’mon open your eyes,” Dean cajoles, hand on the side of Sam’s face with his thumb rubbing softly down his eyebrow. “You can’t get rid of me man, you know that. Not going anywhere Sammy.”
Sam shakes his head. “No more promises like that, they’re pointless, we both know that. But I promise you I won’t do it again. I won’t forget this.” He grips Dean’s hips and holds him tight, leaving his fingerprints in Dean’s skin, where they belong.
“Damn right you won’t, not if I have anything to do about it,” Dean says, beginning to move up and down a little, riding Sam gently at first. Starting to get used to the feeling of all that fullness and strength inside of him. He starts a swiveling figure-eight movement with his hips that makes Sam groan.
Sam plants his feet flat on the bed then so that he has more leverage to move up into Dean, pumping up into him hard, Dean leaning back a little onto Sam’s thighs. Sam thrusts up into Dean in a slow, pulsing rhythm , pulling almost all the way out by pushing Dean up a slightly, loving the feeling of Dean sucking him all the way back in. Soon he loses this control, the squeeze and flex of Dean surrounding him too good; it’s been too long and he pulses up a few more times, yelling out Dean’s name and a string of un-nameable phrases of love and praise.
Sam relaxes beneath him, resting there almost boneless after coming so hard, so Dean knows he doesn’t have long now, Sam’s probably too sensitive for too much more. But he pulls himself up off of Sam’s softening cock and moves down between his legs, lines himself up and pushes in slowly, not holding back the words and sounds that are expelled from him. All Sam can do is hold Dean’s shoulders up as Dean uses all his strength to pound into Sam in an uncoordinated rhythm that quickly becomes even more erratic and wild. It’s all about reclaiming and reconnecting and taking back what he’d thought he’d lost. Dean loses himself in the feeling of Sam holding him up, containing him, and comes yelling Sam’s name loud and strong.
!@#~!@#~
Sam walks up the stairs to the main room on his way to the kitchen. “Wow, you’re up early Kevin, thought you were going to sleep in.”
‘Well, I would have been, but you guys were really loud, you woke me up,” Kevin complains.
Sam goes red, and isn’t sure what to say, he’s just about to try something about when two people love each other, etc., when Dean shows up. “Morning Kevin. Anyone make coffee yet?”
“No Dean, I just got up, you guys woke me up,” Kevin complains again.
“Oh. Uh. Sorry ‘bout that. We’ll try to keep it down next time, huh, Sammy,” Dean says lightly, turning to tug on Sam’s amulet so that he’ll lean down just far enough that Dean can kiss him softly. “I’ll go make us all some coffee. Sam, you want eggs?”
“Yeah, sounds good, thanks Dean,” Sam says, still red with embarrassment, lips still tingling from Dean’s unexpected kiss, still not sure what the heck to say to Kevin. They can hear Dean whistling as he heads off into the kitchen.
“He always like this when he’s gotten some?” Kevin asks with a mocking grin.
“Uh…yeah. Usually,” Sam stammers.
Kevin stops grinning and shrugs, “Cool, beats grumpy and bitching about being out of bacon like usual.”
Sam finally brings himself to ask, “So, uh, you’re okay with this, Kevin?”
Kevin looks up from his collection of angel tablet notes. “Yeah. Not like it’s a surprise or anything, Sam.”
“Oh.”
“What? You thought it was some big secret or something?” Kevin asks.
“Yeah. I guess. We just don’t usually tell anyone.”
“It’s not like you guys have to say anything. It’s pretty obvious how you feel about each other.”
“Oh, okay,” Sam says quietly. So Kevin did mean what he said about mom and dad fighting the other day, he really does see us that way. Together.
Dean comes back shortly with everything on a tray. When they’d first moved into the bunker, Sam had thought it would be easier to just eat in the kitchen at the small table, but Dean had argued that the main library room was so much nicer. Dean’s made it clear that it’s worth it to him to carry the food a few steps further. The kitchen table reminds him too much of all those tables in all those motel rooms, kinda rickety and unsubstantial, while the library tables are solid and never going anywhere.
While they’re eating, Kevin tells them that as far as he’s figured out, the angel tablet says the only preparation he needs to be making is to be well-hydrated and rested.
“Hold on, all you have to do is have some extra water and take a nap? Man, you’re getting off easy compared to what Sammy had to do in the Trials,” Dean says through a mouthful of eggs.
Kevin frowns at the sight of eggs being mashed in Dean’s mouth, and at the reminder of Sam not actually finishing the job that cost him his mom. “It may have a slight translation problem. Metatron is fond of mixing his metaphors.”
When they’re done, Sam’s doing the dishes, because whoever cooks doesn’t have to clean up, that’s their rule. So Dean’s relaxing, reading Kevin’s angel tablet notes. “Is there anything that we should be doing?” Dean asks.
“I don’t think so, unless Chuck told you something else that you haven’t told me,” Kevin says.
“So you’re calling him Chuck too?” Dean asks with a knowing grin.
“Yeah, it’s just too hard to conceive of, you know? That God is someone you can actually talk to and see and stuff. I found a picture of him online, that author guy, and it’s easier to think of him that way.”
“He really fooled us. Me and Sam. Guess he fooled all the angels too, Cas sure had no idea. I hope I get to tell him someday. For a while there, he was really stuck on finding his missing father,” Dean says.
“Aren’t we all,” Kevin answers in a weary tone.
“Kevin, he’ll probably offer you a reward of some kind, - he did to Sam and me last night, so you should think about it. Maybe he’d be able to tell you who your dad is,” Dean offers.
“Don’t know if I’d want to know that. When Crowley was holding me prisoner, he wouldn’t shut up about it,” Kevin says.
“Yeah, maybe better not to know,” Dean agrees.
"What’d you and Sam ask for?” Kevin asks.
“Kind of personal, dude,” Dean says, clamming up.
“And talking about my absent father isn’t? Whatever, Dean,” Kevin says with a huff, going back to re-reading his notes.
After a long day of reading through everything they have on the angel tablet and previously documented visits from God in the Men of Letters library, Sam and Dean take off for a supply run. Having two extra mouths to feed is putting a strain on their stash of food. Before they leave, they tell Kevin to let Crowley know they’ll bring him back the bon-bons he was requesting. An hour later, Kevin’s not thinking about bon-bons or Crowley or anything else, because Chuck has arrived and, after verifying that Kevin is okay with being a temporary vessel, has taken him over.
“You put the stuff away, I’m going to go check on Crowley and ask him about the idea I had in the car,” Sam says as they walk back into the Bat Cave, arms full of loaded-down cloth and paper bags.
“Dean, Sam, it is good to see you again,” Kevin says in a voice that is everywhere at once, his eyes glowing with blue-white intensity.
“Hey Chuck,” Dean says slowly, guessing that’s who he’s talking to instead of Kevin.
Sam is awestruck, struck dumb, thunderstruck, all those things. He’s in the physical presence of God after all, not just hearing his voice. He feels like he should do something besides just a ‘hey’. He goes for a slight bow at the waist and says, “Hello, Chuck, we’re glad you’re here.”
“Didn’t know you were taking over Kevin, he gonna be alright afterwards?” Dean asks.
“Yes, Dean, my Prophet will be fine. I just had to take him over temporarily so that I didn’t have to journey all the way back here. I’m in the middle of working on a project on the far side of the universe, a new kind of galaxy, and I can’t be away from that project for too long.”
“Is there anything you need us to do to help?” Sam asks.
Kevin’s face smiles, and the energy that beams out of him soothes all the rough edges inside Sam and Dean, like a balm applied to a burn, suddenly everything feels better. “I just need Crowley and a body of water, salt water preferably.”
“How big does it have to be? We have a salt-water swimming pool downstairs,” Dean asks.
“Ah yes, I remember this place now. The pool should work just fine. Crowley and I have to be in the water to dampen the effect on our corporeal bodies.”
“Well, let us show you to our dungeon then,” Dean says.
“You’ve got him in a dungeon?” Chuck asks, sounding very surprised.
“Where else are we supposed to keep the former King of Hell?” Sam asks.
“I thought he was cured,” Chuck says.
“No, I, uh, stopped the third trial right before the very last part,” Sam says, with a guilty edge to his voice.
Chuck makes a hmmm’ing noise. “Oh yes, I forgot about that third trial, it’s been a while since I had Metatron write those trials down for me. I’m glad you stopped it in time Sam. So Crowley’s mostly cured then. Well, that’s going to make this a bit more interesting.”
“Will you finish curing him?” Sam asks.
“I’ll leave it up to him. Free will and all that. Even for demons,” Chuck answers.
“Just not angels,” Dean says with disdain, remembering what Cas and Anna had suffered when they first showed any signs of it.
“True, they weren’t made for it, not like humans,” Chuck says.
“Is that something you could change?” Sam asks.
“Why would I?” Chuck asks.
“Oh, I don’t know, so maybe this sort of shit-fest wouldn’t keep happening,” Dean snarks, stalking off towards the dungeon.
Sam leads Chuck down to the pool room. “The angels have all lost their grace, but they don’t have souls, and they don’t have free will. If you just put them back in Heaven, won’t it be even worse now that they’ve seen what they’re missing?” Sam explains the theory that Dean and he have been talking about for weeks.
“You telling me how to run things, Sam?” Chuck asks, with a sharp, challenging tone that shakes a few more of those ceiling tiles loose, splashing down into the pool.
“No, no, of course not. Just arguing the case. Sorry, that’s what I do,” Sam says, feeling ashamed that he’s basically tried to tell Chuck how to do his job.
“Pre-law, I’d forgotten,” Chuck says.
Sam shakes his head in a negative. “That was a long time ago.”
“Still, you’ve got that knack. Maybe you should go back to it,” Chuck encourages.
“I’ve thought about it, pretty recently in fact,” Sam admits.
“But you stuck with Dean and hunting,” Chuck says.
“Yeah,” Sam says, “It was the easiest and hardest decision I’ve made this whole year.”
“That was the wise choice, - you weren’t made to be apart, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now.”
“Then why’d you have to make us brothers?” Sam blurts out suddenly.
“It’s complicated, but know this, Sam, - what you and your brother are to each other is what I always wanted for humans, all humans. And when that doesn’t happen for people, when the choices they make because they have free will lead them down the other way, that’s how demons come to be.”
Chuck stops talking and the words settle into Sam, deeply changing how he thinks about him and his brother, their relationship, and what demons really are. “So we’re the opposite of demons?”
“Pretty much.” Chuck nods.
“Did I really do the right thing? Stopping the third trial?” Sam asks, because the guilt he’s bearing for not following through is crushing him, and this is something Chuck would know the answer to.
“Depends on why you stopped,” Chuck says, blue-white eyes shining brighter as he watches Sam closely.
“Because Dean asked me to. He told me I came first.”
“Then yes, Sam, of course it was the right choice. You and Dean have never gone wrong when you stay together. Surely you’ve noticed that by now. Any guilt you have about not closing the Gates, just get rid of it. They really weren’t meant to be closed, except in an emergency, and I don’t think this was one. If you’d died, Dean probably would have created another issue anyways, so it all worked out. Well, except for the angel part, but that wasn’t because of you two.”
“No, it was Cas, getting taken in by Metatron, - the dude’s persuasive,” Dean says, coming up behind them with Crowley in tow. Dean meets Sam’s eyes to communicate that yes, he heard the whole thing, so quit being guilty already.
“So here’s your mostly uncured demon king.” Dean props up Crowley near Chuck so that he can see him; Crowley’s pretty out of it, and not really with them.
Kevin who is Chuck reaches out with two fingers and touches Crowley’s forehead. The fog seems to instantly clear from Crowley’s eyes and all the injuries he’s sustained from the Winchester’s attempts at persuasion disappear. Crowley stands up straight with no support from Dean, and the restraints all fall to the floor with loud clanks that echo off the tile ceiling.
“Crowley, I am here to set things right. And you have a choice to make. I can cure you the remainder of the way and you’ll be your original self again, or I will undo what Sam has done to you and you can go back to being a demon.”
“Will I still remember all this if you undo it?” Crowley asks in a hushed version of his accent.
“Yes,” Chuck answers.
“Then cure me the rest of the way. I can’t be a demon again, not when I’ve come back this far,” Crowley decides.
“A wise choice,” Chuck says, reaching out again with two fingers to Crowley’s forehead.
A yellow-white light surrounds the two of them. When the glow fades, it seems to be drawn back only into Crowley, who still has a bit of the light lingering around him. “Wait just a second here. I thought,” Crowley says in his sarcastic voice, restored to full-strength.
“No, you are not human, my son,” Chuck says, as if he’s waiting for Crowley to catch up with something majorly important.
“But you’re my son, Kevin, - he’s my son, I’ve never told him,” Crowley says, sounding less like himself with every word. Then he looks up at Chuck-Kevin searching his face for answers, and Crowley’s eyes go wide. “I forgot, how could I have forgotten?” Crowley cries out in anguish and goes to his knees in front of Chuck. “I am so sorry! Father, can you ever forgive me?”
“Yes, Camael, of course I do. Stand up, we have work to do.”
Crowley who now is Camael stands with his head bowed.
“None of that, I said you are forgiven. Please, into the pool, we must do this quickly,” Chuck orders.
Camael starts walking steadily towards the edge of the pool steps. “What are we doing, Father?”
“I’m going to put the angels back where they belong and since I’m only visiting temporarily. I need your assistance to make it happen,” Chuck answers, stepping into the pool and holding out his hand to Camael.
Camael, who was Crowley, and Kevin who is Chuck walk into the pool, fully clothed, down the steps until they are up to their necks in the salt water. Chuck turns to Camael and puts his hands on his shoulders, nods at him to do the same. “Brace yourself, it will be hard, but all will be well,” Chuck says. Camael nods in response, eyes wide with anticipation.
“So he’s an angel or something, right Sam?” Dean whispers to Sam as they watch what’s happening in the pool below them.
“Yeah, Camael’s one of the archangels, he’s the one who kicked out Adam and Eve from Eden.” They hear a low rumbling sound begin, the ground shaking slightly beneath their feet, and the water in the pool rises up in one quivery, Jell-O mass to the ceiling. The two figures still contained within the shimmering body of water hovering above the empty pool.
Dean can see out through the wall of windows, where brilliant flares of flaming light are shooting up from the ground, going up into the dusky twilight sky like ground-based missiles being fired. He points out the window so Sam will see it too. “It’s like the reverse of when the angels fell.”
“It’s beautiful,” Sam says with quiet awe. He looks over with concern at the figures held in the block of water hovering above the floor of the pool. They seem so still. The pace of the lights going up into the sky slows until there are no more. Another rumble sounds and the water suddenly drops all at once with an enormous, crashing splash back into the pool. A lot of it washes out, drenching Sam and Dean who look on in stunned surprise until they see that Chuck and Camael are floating face down in the water. Without a thought, the brothers jump in to haul them out, pulling them up onto the steps and onto the blue tile pool surround.
“Kevin, I mean, Chuck’s not breathing,” Dean says, leaning over Kevin’s prone body in full emergency response mode.
“Crowley, uh, Camael isn’t either. Do we do CPR?” Sam asks from the same position over Crowley.
“I guess so. They’re pretty much human bodies. Worth a shot.” Dean starts in with a breath into Chuck-Kevin’s mouth, then some chest compressions. Sam does the same with Crowley-Camael. After a few minutes, they stop, - nothing seems to be happening.
“He said they’d be ok,” Sam says, sounding beyond disappointed.
“Well, it was a pretty big deal, all the power it took to do that,” Dean says.
“But Kevin,” Sam protests, voice trailing off.
“I know, Sam. But he was ready,” Dean says, trying to sound like he actually believes it.
“No, it’s not fair! Kevin never chose this! He never chose any of this!” Sam yells, desperate that they’ve lost yet another friend to all this destiny crap.
A watery cough brings his attention back to Camael, who says in Crowley’s accent, “Hey, moose, could you get off so I can sit up?”
Sam scrambles back off of the archangel. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, looks like. What about?” Camael looks over at Chuck-Kevin, lying there with his dark eyelashes feathered over his cheeks. He could be sleeping except for the water still draining off of him. Camael reaches over and shakes his shoulder and says, “Father?”
Chuck-Kevin’s eyes open slowly, still on fire with that unnatural blue white blaze. “Yes, son, I am here.”
“Just checking. Why am I still here though? Shouldn’t I be back up there with everyone else?” Camael asks, sounding like a lost little boy for just a moment.
“Ah, Camael, still questioning, I see. I want to try something new this time, and you will be the one to explain it to the angels for me.” He reaches out and holds the side of Camael’s head for a moment. “You understand now? Go home, tell them, and be at peace.”
Camael turns to look at Sam and Dean. “I know I can’t apologize to you for what I’ve done, the people I’ve taken from you, what I put you through, but I will do what I can to make it up to you somehow, I swear it.”
Dean looks down at this being who appears as Crowley, but a Crowley transformed by an inner glow that is highlighting his handsome profile. “Tell Cas goodbye and thanks from us and we’ll call it even.”
Camael nods seriously, and says, “Done.” He looks once more at Chuck-Kevin and smiles, then vanishes with a puff of air and a sound of ruffling feathers.
“Kevin will need a lot of care for a few days, - you’ll be there for him?” Chuck asks.
“Yes, of course,” Sam says.
“There will no longer be angels on earth. Their instructions are clear, and I will be interested to see what they’ll do with what I gave them.”
“Did you actually give them free will?” Sam asks.
“Yes, I did. But they’re supposed to stay in Heaven, so they don’t have that option available to them for the foreseeable future.”
“So, you’ve closed the Gates of Heaven?” Dean asks.
“Not exactly, but you won’t have to worry about angels any longer,” Chuck answers.
“What about Hell and the demons, who’ll be in charge since Crowley’s gone?” Sam asks.
“I’d imagine it will stay the same, and there will be the usual sort of battle. Not up to us though, is it, gentlemen? I need to be getting back. Oh, by the way, the amulets might work again; they were originally supposed to be only for an emergency, a one-time-use-only thing, but just in case, I think they could be used again. ‘Just until things settle down’,” he says, his fingers jerking in the universal air quotes fashion. “Thank you again, you can count on the promise I made to you, as much as you can count on each other. Goodbye.”
Sam and Dean have to look away from the bright light pouring out of Kevin’s body as Chuck leaves him. Kevin collapses to the floor, Sam catching his head just in time before it would have cracked against the tile floor. “He’s really out of it, help me carry him.” Dean reaches down and they haul a soaking wet Kevin back to his room. They undress him, towel him dry, find some sweats and a t-shirt to dress him in and tuck him into bed. He seems fine, just deeply, profoundly asleep.
They walk back to Dean’s room and quickly undress for bed, still both very soaked from the splash of the pool and carrying Kevin. Just another fun evening in the Bat Cave, swimming with God and an archangel who used to be the King of Hell.
“I’m still gonna keep wearing this,” Dean says when he’s taken his wet shirt off. He stands in front of the mirror looking at himself holding onto the amulet tightly.
“Even after all that?” Sam asks.
“Especially because of all that. It’ll be a reminder, of what we’ve done here,” Dean says, looking at Sam in the mirror’s reflection.
“Here where?” Sam asks, confused.
Dean turns around to face Sam. “Duh, in the world.”
“So what are we? Sam and Dean Winchester, protectors of Earth?” Sam asks with an edge of sarcasm.
“Guess that’s what we ended up as. Surprised everyone, didn’t we Sammy?” Dean grins up at him.
Sam smiles and shakes his head. “And no one really knows.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Dean says, happy with their anonymity.
“Maybe Kevin will write about us after we’re gone. Add onto the Carver Edlund stories,” Sam suggests.
Dean hits him in the shoulder. “Shoot, we forgot to ask Chuck why those books keep getting published.”
“I pretty much just don’t want to think about it if you don’t mind,” Sam says, pretending to shudder in fear.
“I wouldn’t, except Charlie keeps bugging me about stuff all the time,” Dean says.
“Again, I’ll say, that I’m counting it as a good thing that we have nosy friends now.”
“You really got what Chuck told you, right Sammy?”
“Yeah, I did, did you?” Sam challenges, sitting down on the side of the bed.
“Toldja so.” Dean says with a cry of triumph, pouncing on Sam in what he’s happy to now think of as their bed.
Sam flips Dean handily, pinning him down with his arms above his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I told you so first.” He sees Dean start to argue and leans in, kissing him briefly on his protesting lips and flopping off to one side, saying into the pillow, “Whatever, night.”
“We gonna tell him?” Dean asks as he curls in against Sam’s side, hand on his lower back.
“Who? What?” Sam asks, lifting his head from the pillow to look at Dean, doubly confused about what he’s going on about.
“Kevin, that Camael was his father,” Dean prompts.
“I guess so. If you think he really wants to know,” Sam says, not sure if he’d want to know, were he in Kevin’s position. “It’s not like the information that your father is an angel who you can’t ever meet or talk to will really change much for him, right?”
“Maybe that’s why he was a prophet, since he was the son of an angel,” Dean offers.
“We really have some weird friends. Nosy and weird,” Sam says, echoing his earlier thought about their friends.
“So Crowley was both a demon and an angel. Never could figure that guy out. Guess he couldn’t figure himself out either,” Dean says.
“Well, Anna forgot she was an angel. So we know that it’s possible. Maybe that’s why the third trial was so painful for him. It was uncovering all that, not only his humanity, but his angel history,” Sam suggests, remembering how moving it was to see Crowley transformed before his eyes.
“It’s a whole lot to forget,” Dean agrees.
“No one would believe this, Kevin probably won’t. Maybe we should just forget it all,” Sam says, sounding frustrated.
Dean tugs on the amulet, which is lying on Sam’s bare chest. “That’s the point of these Sammy.” He leans forward and kisses Sam’s skin around the amulet, laying his head there with his ear over Sam’s steadily beating heart. “Not forgetting.”
~FIN~
~*~ Masterpost~*~