Leave All Your Love And Your Longing Behind 3.10-3.16

[spiceblueeyes]

3.10 Dream a Little Dream of Me

Sam opened the door to the house to see both Lisa and Ben waiting for him and Dean to get back. They had worried looks on their faces. “Is Bobby okay?” Lisa asked. When Dean had got the call that Bobby was in the hospital they’d left right away, and everyone had been concerned.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just a little tired.” Sam said. Lisa looked relieved and Ben let his body relax, where before he’d been tense. The kid had really bonded with the older man when they’d spent a weekend at his junkyard. Sam came the rest of the way inside and shut the door behind him.

Lisa frowned, but it was Ben who asked, “Where’s Dean?”

“He needed a drink; I left him at a bar. He’ll catch a cab home.” Sam hated to watch Ben wilt under his words, so disappointed that Dean hadn’t come back with Sam. Lisa looked at Sam with a question in her eyes. She knew that if Dean was going to a bar to drink it meant he was getting drunk, and didn’t want to do it in front of Ben. Sam shrugged at her; he didn’t know exactly why Dean felt the need to not think for a while, though he could guess. It probably had something to do with what he’d seen in his dream while under the influence of the dream root. He’d told Sam that he hadn’t seen anything, but Sam knew better than to believe him.

“Ready for bed little man?” Sam asked Ben, who shook his head.

Ben looked up at Lisa, “Can I stay up till Dean gets home?”

Lisa put her hand on Ben’s head and ran it through his hair. “No, sweetie. Not this time. You have to get up for school tomorrow.”

“Please, please please please?” Ben begged, folding his hands in front of him like he was praying.

“No, now run upstairs and get into your PJs and brush your teeth. I’ll be up to kiss you goodnight in a few minutes.” She nudged him in the direction of the stairs.

“Aw, man. This sucks!” Ben sulked his way up the stairs and Sam couldn’t help but compare Ben’s pout to Dean’s; they were remarkably similar, though Dean had more practice. Ben had his age going for him though.

Once he’d disappeared Lisa turned back to Sam, “Is Dean okay?” Sam sighed.

“No, he’s not. It was…” he hesitated, not sure how much to say, “It was a rough case.” Lisa nodded in understanding, and Sam marveled that she seemed to get Dean on a level that it had taken him years to reach. He could see that she knew Dean was going to get drunk, spend a night trying not the think about whatever was bothering him, and in the morning he’d come back and act like everything was fine.

“Maybe you should go be with him, he probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” she said. Sam agreed, but he’d wanted to come home first and reassure Lisa and Ben that everything was all right in person.

Sam smiled at her, “Thanks. I don’t know what time we’ll be back.”

Lisa shook her head and waved her hand, dismissing it as a concern, “It’s fine, just take care of Dean for us. We kinda like him around here.” She smiled softly, and Sam could tell that she wanted to be able to go and comfort Dean as well, but couldn’t leave Ben in the house alone, and they both knew Dean would push her away instead of letting her help him. Sam didn’t know why Dean was so stubborn about that; he and Lisa were practically made for each other. But Dean, while he clearly cared about her, wouldn’t let her any closer than she already was, kept her at arm’s length.

“I’ll do my best.” Sam said. He turned and left the house again to go watch Dean as he got shit-faced in some seedy bar, cause that was what good brothers did.



Sam slid onto the barstool next to Dean. There were three empty shot glasses in front of his brother, and now he seemed to be taking a break with a beer. Sam ordered a beer for himself and when it came he took a small sip. Dean wasn’t acknowledging him, just sitting staring at his beer and occasionally taking a drink. They sat that way for a while, each silently contemplating their beverages.

Sam finally broke the silence. “So, when you said you didn’t see anything in your dream,” he started, “I’m thinking you lied.”

Dean chuckled darkly and lifted the beer to hover in front of his lips. “Nothing gets by you, Columbo.” He took a long pull on his beer before setting it back down. He still wasn’t looking at Sam.

“You wanna talk about it?” Sam asked. That earned him a glare from Dean that said fuck you more eloquently than if he’d said the words.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought.” Sam said in response. He went back to nursing his own beer.

A few more silent minutes later and Dean had finished his beer and was ready for more. He waved the bartender over. “Whiskey, straight,” he ordered. The guy got out another shot glass and poured it for him. “Actually, leave the bottle.”

The bartended looked at him, and then at Sam. “You sure?”

Dean’s face threatened violence. “Leave the fuckin’ bottle,” he growled. The guy’s eyebrows rose and he backed off, walking toward some other, less hostile, customers.

Sam eyed the mostly full bottle of whiskey. “Planning on drinking that whole thing?”

“Maybe.” Dean said. His tone implied that it was really none of Sam’s business.

“Dean,” Sam said, exasperated. “Dude, talk to me, man. This isn’t the way to deal with shit. When I went back home without you Ben was scared, I had to tell him you’d rather be at a bar getting drunk than go home.” That got a reaction.

“You told him-” Dean stared at Sam in shock. “That’s not true!”

“Then why aren’t you at home right now, Dean?”Sam pointed out gently. Instead of answering Dean knocked back another shot of whiskey. “Lisa was worried about you too.” Sam watched Dean wince. “I saw that part of your dream, Dean. I know you care about her, maybe even love her.” Dean’s hand gripped the glass tightly. “Why do you keep pushing her away? If it’s what you want, what you both want, why won’t you let yourself have it?” With a few drinks in him Sam hoped that Dean might actually answer some of his questions for once.

This time, Dean actually said the words. “Fuck you, Sam. I’m not that selfish.”

“What do you mean? Dean, she loves you, it’s totally obvious. Why is it selfish to love her back?” Sam asked.

“Because,” Dean said, “Because I know I can’t stick around.” Dean poured himself another shot. “She said, she said from the beginning that she wanted a forever guy. And I went along cause I just,” he gulped down the shot. “I just wanted it so bad. The kid, the house, the girl, the life. But I didn’t think, I was so stupid, I should have just walked away.” He waved his hand in the air, “Should have just kept going, kept driving, shouldn’t have gone back.”

“What?” Sam was shocked; he knew how much Dean loved Ben and Lisa.

“I can’t be that guy, that forever guy. The guy that sticks around.” The alcohol was noticeably hitting Dean now, as his face and gestures became more expressive. “You know why?” he asked, looking at Sam. “You know why I can’t be that?” His head rocked back as he downed another shot, and Sam smoothly took the bottle away after that. “Cause I’m goin’ ‘ta Hell.” Dean laughed, he laughed so hard he was clutching his stomach, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He laughed until there were tears streaming down his face.

“Dean,” Sam said. “Dean!” He shouted when Dean didn’t seem to hear him. Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders and maneuvered him so that he could look him in the eyes. “We’re going to save you. Okay? We will find a way to save you.” Sam made sure to project confidence and reassurance in his voice.

Dean stared back into his eyes and slowly stopped laughing. “Yeah, Sam,” he said, and reached out to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He nodded, his movements drunkenly exaggerated, “We’re gonna save me,” he said seriously. And then, like he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t say it with a straight face, he burst into laughter again.

Sam was torn between wanting to yell at Dean for not believing he could be saved, and crying because it was only this past year that’d he’d seen just how messed up his brother really was inside. His sense of self-worth was completely fucked up to the point where he almost seemed to think he deserved the Pit, but Sam had thought that Lisa and Ben were helping with that; that they were giving him something to live for. “What about Ben and Lisa, huh, Dean? What about them?”

Dean’s manic laughter stopped and he put his hands on either side of Sam’s face, pulling it close to his own so that Sam could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You have to protect them Sam. If I come back, you have to make sure they’re safe?”

“What?” Sam was confused.

“Like Ruby said,” and then Sam got it. Ruby had told them that all demons were once human, and in Hell they changed. Sam hadn’t given it much thought since he knew his brother was not going to Hell, now way was he going to let that happen. But apparently Dean had been thinking about it, a lot. “I’ll be a demon, Sam, with…with…black eyes an’ everythin’.” Dean let go of Sam’s face to wave a hand at his eyes. “So if you see me, Sammy,” He resumed his hold on Sam’s head. “If you see me wit’ black eyes. You gotta kill me, ‘kay? ‘Kay, Sam?” He was squishing Sam’s face, but the look in his eyes was earnest. “Cause I’ll come for ‘em. Fuckin’ demon me, I’ll, I, Sam. I’ll do things to ‘em. Oh, God.” Dean let his hands drop, and Sam could see tears behind his brother’s eyes. Suddenly he knew what Dean had seen in his dream.

“Oh, Dean,” Sam breathed. Dean rubbed his eyes with a clumsy hand.

“I’m tired, Sammy.” Dean said softly.

“Yeah, man, let’s get you home.” Sam stood up and pulled on his brother until he was standing, too. He let Dean use his body to steady himself as they walked out of the bar.

“Home,” Dean repeated. He picked his head up suddenly in alarm as they made their way to the car. “Sam, Sam, wait.” He stopped walking and pulled on the collar of Sam’s shirt. “Are my eyes black? Are my eyes black, Sammy?” He stared hard at Sam’s face, his eyes opened as wide as they would go. He even reached up to pull the skin around them away to give Sam a better view of his eyeballs.

“No, Dean, they’re fine.” Sam choked out; the fear that filled Dean made him want to cry.

“Are you sure? Sam?” Dean asked again, desperate.

Sam put his arm around Dean and started leading them back to the car again. “I promise, Dean. You’re eyes are green.” A bright forest green flecked with desperation.

Dean let him pull him to the car and deposit him in the passenger seat. “Okay. Okay good. Green’s good.” Dean muttered.

They didn’t talk much on the way to the house; Dean fell asleep slumped against the car door halfway there.

Sam didn’t cry. The windshield was just blurry because it was raining.

3.11 Mystery Spot

Lisa watched Sam from the doorway in the room he and Dean shared, Sam didn’t even notice she was there; he was so absorbed in what he was doing. He had books and papers and notes laid out all around him on the floor. He was reading through large tomes and periodically writing things down, muttering to himself. She shook her head.

He’d been like this ever since their last job, it had been down in Florida. Sam had wanted to look into a Mystery Spot that might be the real deal and while Dean had been skeptical they’d gone.

They’d only been gone a few days, but whatever had happened there must have been bad since Sam hadn’t laughed once since he’d come back, he just worked himself to exhaustion every day. Lisa turned away from Sam and went to find Dean, this wasn’t healthy and normal behavior for Sam and if anyone knew what was wrong, it would be Dean.

She found him with Ben; they were in the living room watching The Goonies, again. They both loved that movie, and would quote it to each other endlessly. They were at the part where the kids had to play the piano to get through the booby trap. “Dean,” she whispered. He looked over at her from the couch where he was sitting, with Ben cuddled up next to him. She waved him over, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He looked puzzled but nodded, gently moving Ben over so he could get up. “Dude,” Ben protested. “You’re gonna miss the part where Mikey kisses Stephanie.”

“I’ll catch it next time.” Dean said, standing up.

Ben rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He went back to watching the movie, and Dean followed Lisa out to the backyard. She didn’t want Ben or Sam to accidentally overhear their conversation.

Dean slid the screen door closed behind him and turned towards her expectantly, “What’s up?”

“Is Sam okay?” She asked, “He’s been acting weird ever since you guys came back from your last job.”

Dean sighed, “Sam’s fine.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows, “Really? That’s your answer? Cause Sam is clearly not fine Dean. He’s obsessed or something. He’s working himself into the ground and won’t even tell anyone what he’s working on.”

“The last job was tough on him. He’ll snap out of it.” Dean said.

“The last job, yeah, the one you wouldn’t tell us about.” Lisa said, “What the hell happened in Florida, Dean?”

“Ah, look, you wanna sit for a minute?” he gestured to the table and chairs they kept to eat outside on when the weather was nice.

She moved to sit down, asking, “Is it that bad?”

Dean sat across from her, “Honestly, I don’t really remember. I mostly only know what Sammy told me.”

“Explain.”

“We had another run in with the Trickster. We thought we killed the devious bastard the first time around, but apparently not. And according to what Sam said, we didn’t kill him this time either, he just got tired of playing with us and let us go.” Dean ran his hand through his hair. “The Trickster is pretty powerful. Like, bending time powerful. He was screwing with Sam, put him in some kind of time loop so it was Tuesday over and over again.”

Lisa frowned, “That sounds boring.”

Dean shook his head, “Not when you have to watch your brother die every day, and you can’t do anything about it no matter how hard you try.” Lisa gasped softly. “Sam won’t tell me how many Tuesdays he lived through, but I get the feeling there were a lot. It was some sort of time loop thing, like Groundhog Day.” Dean’s face was somber.

“Oh my god. That must have been…horrible.” Lisa thought about how close the two brothers were, and what it would do to Sam to watch Dean die. And then to have to watch it over and over again? No wonder he’d flipped out.

Dean nodded, “Yeah, so Sam’s…a little on edge right now. He just needs a little time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Lisa said. “So all that researching he’s doing, is he trying to figure out how to kill this Trickster?”

A look of surprise crossed Dean’s face, and then was gone. “I, yeah, that’s what he’s doing. I told him to just leave it, but he won’t.”

“Of course he can’t just leave it alone. He watched you die, Dean. That’s gotta be the worst feeling he’s ever had. He’ll want revenge,” Lisa said.

Now Dean looked a little angry, “Well he won’t get it. Sam knows better than to go after things that are too strong for him.” He clenched and released his fists, like he was anxious, “He knows better than to throw himself into a suicide mission just to ‘avenge me.’”

Suddenly Lisa wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.

“You’re right, Sam needs to snap out of this, whatever this is, right now. I think I’ll go talk to him.” Dean stood up and went back inside, disappearing up the stairs, before Lisa had the chance to say anything else.



Sam was crosschecking a piece of information about a past deal with the crossroads demon with another source. The first text had said “The deviled man strucketh the pact, and was granted a half score and prosperous endeavors. The soulless lived a full score, thus cheating Lucifer himself.” The text was a long shot, full of misinformation like calling the Crossroads Demon Lucifer, but Sam was desperate. Unfortunately, the more accurate text told a different story, that the man had sold his children to get that extra ten years. Sam slumped in disappointment. It was looking more and more like he wasn’t going to be able to save Dean from his deal, but he wasn’t giving up yet. He wasn’t ever going to give up.

Dean walked into the room, closing the door behind him with a firm click of the lock. “Sam, we have to talk.”

“That sounds ominous,” Sam joked, but it fell flat.

Dean walked over to his bed and sat down; he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Uh oh, that was Dean’s lecture position. “Sam, this has to stop.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Denial, always worth a shot.

“I’m not playing, Sam. You’re wearing yourself out. When was the last time you slept for more than four hours? You’ll be useless on the next hunt, not to mention we should be focusing on finding Bela and the Colt, not this.” Dean said.

“I’m not just going to stop looking for a way to save you, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Stop it with the bitchface, Sam. I’m not saying give it up, I told you. I’m on board the ‘save Dean from Hell’ plan now. But any chance we have is going to involve the Colt, which we no longer have. That needs to be top priority right now.” He rubbed his mouth with his hand briefly and put it back down, “And you’re starting to scare Lisa and Ben.”

“What?” Sam finally put his pen down. “What do you mean I’m scaring them?”

Dean gestured to the mess on the floor, “Dude, what do you expect? You hole up in the room, don’t talk to anyone, barely eat anything, or sleep. Ben’s been asking if you’re sick for days, and Lisa finally pulled me aside to talk about you. You’re really freaking them out.” Dean sighed, “You’re freaking me out.”

“I, I’ve just been focused,” Sam defended himself.

“I know, I know, man. But this has to stop. You can keep researching. Just…get some sleep first. And leave the room for longer than it takes to make a sandwich. Be part of the family again.”

Sam blinked; he’d never actually heard Dean call their little household a family out loud before. He let out a slow breath, “Yeah, I guess I can do that.”

Dean nodded, “Good. Now do you want to get some sleep, or come down and finish watching The Goonies with me ‘n Ben?” Dean stood up and clapped his hands together, the look on his face saying that those were the only two choices Sam had right now.

Sam stretched his arms out to his sides, “I guess I could watch The Goonies again,” he said.

Dean smiled, “Better be down within five minutes, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam threw back at him as he left the room. He gathered up all his papers and books, setting them on top of his dresser. They’d still be here in a few hours.

3.12 Jus in Bello

Sam and Dean trudged wearily back into the house. Lisa watched them greet Ben. They were nice, but the smiles were forced and they escaped upstairs to put their stuff away as soon as they could. Ben watched them go with a look on his face like he couldn’t understand why they’d left, since normally when they got back from a job they all gathered in the living room while Sam and Dean told them about it. Lisa kissed Ben on the forehead and sent him to finish up his homework. Then she fetched three beers from the fridge and followed them upstairs.

Sam was sitting on his bed, just kind of staring off into the distance, while Dean was unpacking his bag, putting the still clean clothes in his dresser and the dirty things into the wicker hamper in the corner. “Hey,” Lisa said softly. “You guys look like you could use one of these.” She held out two of the beers, the other one for herself. They both looked at her; Dean reached out and took his beer with a nod of thanks. Sam hesitated, but then did the same. “So,” she said. “Who wants to tell me what happened?” Dean unscrewed the top off his beer and downed half of it at once. Sam just stared at his. Neither of them answered her. “That bad, huh?”

“We got arrested,” Sam said, as he finally opened his own bottle.

Dean barked out a laugh, “Yeah, why don’t you start with the least important thing, Sam.” His tone was sarcastic and bitter, and Sam flinched.

“Then you tell the story, Dean.” Sam said, angry.

“Fine. I can sum it up in one sentence.” Dean spat out. “People died because of us.” Lisa watched Dean’s lip twist in self-loathing.

“I think you’re going to have to elaborate on that,” she said. Lisa was familiar by now with Dean’s overdeveloped sense of responsibility, so she knew that just because he thought something was his fault didn’t meant it was true. Dean didn’t respond, just went back to unpacking and drinking his beer.

Sam was the one who answered. “The FBI caught up to us, thanks to Bela.”

“Bitch,” Dean muttered.

“So they took us to this small town jail for holding until they could transfer us. Word somehow got out to the demons that we were there, pretty much helpless, chained up in a jail cell.” Sam took a sip of his beer, and Lisa opened her own. She had a feeling she’d need it for the end of this story. “So Henrickson, the FBI agent who caught us, got possessed. After I exorcised the demon while dunking his head into the toilet full of holy water, they believed what we’ve been telling them all along. They let us out.”

“Holy toilet water?” Lisa smirked. Sam just shrugged.

“That was pretty badass, Sammy.” Dean said. He was done unpacking and was laying back on his bed now, one arm behind his bed, the other holding his beer.

“It’s what we had,” Sam said. “Anyway, more demons were coming. We salted all the entrances, painted devil’s traps, tried to make the place impenetrable. When they got there, we were surrounded. Black smoke everywhere, until they figured out they couldn’t get in that way. Then they went and found people to possess.” Sam took another sip. “Ruby showed up, gave us an out. We didn’t take it.”

Dean sat up from his prone position, “It wasn’t an ‘out,’ Sam. It was a human sacrifice. That is not how we roll. Winchesters do not carve hearts out of virgin’s chests. We might do other things to virgins, but not that.” Dean’s knuckles were white, holding his beer.

Sam frowned, “Maybe we should have listened to Ruby, Dean. I mean, look at the numbers. One versus everyone.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Numbers don’t mean shit, Sam. Are you seriously telling me that if we had done it. If we’d killed that girl, carved her heart out, that you wouldn’t be sitting there feeling just as shitty as you do now?” Dean demanded.

For a second Sam looked like he might argue, but then he wilted. “You’re right.” They both seemed to lose the energy that short argument had given them.

“So, what happened next?” Lisa asked, when it looked like Sam wasn’t going to continue unprompted.

He took a deep breath. “Dean had the idea to draw all the demons inside, trap them and perform a mass exorcism. It was a Hail Mary plan, but it worked. Demons gone, no casualties, we walked out of there legally dead and heroes.” He shook his head. “Couple hours later the place blew up, everyone inside was dead. Police were calling it some sort of gas explosion, but Ruby said it was Lilith.”

Damn, she should have brought up something stronger than beer. “Lilith?”

“Demon bitch who’s apparently gunning for Sammy here,” Dean glared at Sam, who stiffened but didn’t say anything.

Lisa spent a few minutes processing and nursing her own beer. They all sat in silence, well, she was standing, but effect was the same.

Once she felt like she had her head wrapped around the story she said, “Dean. It doesn’t sound like any of that was your fault.” She looked at Sam as she said it as well, so he would know he was included in her statement. “You were doing the best you could, like you always do.”

Sam nodded shallowly, “Yeah,” he breathed. Dean didn’t say anything, and was carefully not looking at her. Lisa sighed, no matter what she said, Dean was going to carry this burden. It was frustrating, but at the same time it made her love him all the more. She wished she could go over to him--give him comfort--but Dean was prickly about that kind of thing. He knew how she felt about him, which made him wary of even her platonic hugs.

“I’ll get you guys some more beer,” she said, turning to leave. He wouldn’t let her comfort him that way, so she’d bring him numbing alcohol, and pie. She could do that, at least. It didn’t feel like enough.

3.13 Ghostfacers

“Okay, Ben, pop quiz,” Dean said, walking into the dining room where Ben had his homework spread out on the table. Sam watched Ben lift his head up and roll his eyes.

“Dude, I hate pop quizzes,” he said.

Sam and Dean pulled out chairs at the table and sat down. “Too bad,” Dean said. “What’s a death echo?” Ben looked over at Sam, who just raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Ben sighed, “Fine. A death echo is when someone keeps reliving their death over and over again. Annoying, but harmless,” he recited.

“Good. Now, say you’re in a house that has the ghost of guy who was really scared of nukes in the Cold War. What would you look for in the basement?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head, no way was Ben going to know that.

“What’s the Cold War?” Ben asked, and Sam had to hold back a laugh.

“What’s the Cold War? What are they teaching in school these days?” Dean demanded.

“Dude, I’m eight.” Ben looked at him like Dean was crazy.

Dean settled back in his chair and crossed his arms, “Yeah, well, make sure you pay attention in history class. And the answer was a bomb shelter. People in the Cold War would build bomb shelters in their basements.”

“That sounds cool, can we build one?” Ben’s eyes lit up.

“No,” Sam spoke up. “No bomb shelter.”

“Aw, come on, Sam. It could be like a super secret club house,” Ben said.

“No bomb shelter.” Dean echoed Sam, “But remind me to show you Bobby’s panic room next time we go visit him.”

“What’s a panic room?”

Dean smiled, “You’ll see.”

Ben huffed, “Whatever. Why do you even care if I know about bomb shelters?”

Dean glanced at Sam and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “Because Sammy here got himself dragged into one on our last job.”

“Really?” Ben looked at Sam for confirmation.

“Yeah.” Sam said, begrudgingly. He didn’t really like to admit when he messed up, but that never stopped Dean from bringing it up. Though if Dean was gonna use it as a teaching moment, then he guessed it was okay.

“And if I hadn’t known to look for the bomb shelter, Sam would have died.” Dean explained.

Ben’s eyes widened. Sam winced, because while he’d been saved, Corbett hadn’t been. “You okay?” Ben asked Sam.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m fine.” Sam flashed him a smile.

“So, you never know what might be important when dealing with ghosts. You need to make sure you learn all your school stuff along with the stuff we’re teaching you.” Dean gestured to the work on the table. “Now get back to work.” He stood up.

“Man, I was totally working before you even came over here.” Ben complained.

“And now you can go back to it,” Sam said, standing and following Dean. Ben shook his little head in exasperation.

Sam caught up with Dean in their room upstairs. “What’s with the ‘school is cool’ routine? You hated school when we were kids?”

“Yeah, but I had Dad to teach me stuff at home.” Dean said, flopping down on the bed. “You know, I miss Magic Fingers.”

Sam shook his head, Dean and the Magic Fingers. “Ben has you, Dean.”

“Not for long, only two more months.” Dean folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, the picture of relaxed.

Sam eyed him, “I thought we talked about this. We’re getting you out of your deal.”

Dean opened one eyes to look at Sam, “And if we don’t, he needs to be prepared. Though you’re right. He’ll still have you around. You can teach him all that stuff.” He closed his eyes again.

“Dean,” Sam felt frustration swell inside him. No matter what he said Dean wouldn’t let himself hope for a solution. He didn’t believe Sam would save him.

Dean opened both his eyes, “You will be here, right Sam? You wouldn’t just take off one I’m not around anymore, right?”

“No! Of course not. Lisa and Ben are family,” Sam said. How could Dean think he’d do that?

“That means no more hunting.” Dean said, “At least not by yourself.”

Sam looked at Dean in shock, “You want me to stop hunting?”

Dean’s face was hard, “Dude, you disappeared. We were in that house and one second you were there, and the next you weren’t. If I hadn’t been there you would have been toast.” Sam wanted to protest, but since it was true he really couldn’t. “Ben and Lisa can’t lose both of us. So you can stay here, settle down some, have an apple pie life. Do the occasional hunt with Bobby or something.”

“I...Dean,” Sam started, but then he took another look at Dean’s face, and there was a desperation in his eyes that Sam couldn’t say no to. “Yeah, I could do that, I guess.”

“Good,” Dean wiggled himself back against the pillow and closed his eyes again, saying without words that the conversation was over. Sam sighed and left the room, heading back downstairs. He went to the living room and stretched out on the couch, picking up a lore book he’d left there earlier. It had an interesting section on deals in it.

After about a half an hour Ben wandered in. “Hey, where’s Dean?” He asked.

Sam looked up from his book, “Upstairs, napping. Did you finish your homework?”

Ben nodded, and looked around like he was bored. “Are we doing Supernatural lessons today?”

“Yeah, just have to get Dean up. Why don’t you do that?” Sam said.

“Okay,” Ben turned to go upstairs.

“Hey, Ben, when you wake him up, jump up and down on the bed and yell ‘Magic Fingers,’ okay?” Sam grinned at Ben in a way that meant trouble.

“Why?” Ben asked, though he was already grinning back.

“Just do it, I’ll explain later,” Sam said. Ben nodded and headed out, but stopped when Sam called his name. “Remember to make noise to wake Dean up before you jump on the bed though.”

“Yeah, I know. Can’t wake you guys up all surprised or you’ll get mad,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. Sam nodded, it was for the kids protection, Sam and Dean had both been startled awake by things trying to kill them a few too many times to react well to it.

“Alright, go get him.” Sam watched Ben disappear upstairs.

Forty seconds later he heard, “Magic Fingers, Magic Fingers, Magic Fingers!” There was a thump and sounds of a scuffle. Then he heard shrieks of laughter and Dean shouting, “I’ll show you Magic Fingers!” Followed by and even louder shriek. Sam laughed from the couch downstairs. Thump, thump thump, and Ben was running breathless into the living room, with Dean hot on his heels.

“Sam! Save me!” he yelled as he dove onto the couch, scrunching himself behind Sam’s legs where they were stretched out.

“Oh, no, Ben. Sam can’t save you. I’ve been kicking his ass for years,” Dean said as he advanced on their position.

“Oh, really?” Sam said, ready to defend his pride.

“Yeah, and don’t think I don’t know who put him up to that.” Dean pointed at Sam and mock glared.

“It was Sam! Sam put me up to it!” Ben said from behind Sam’s legs.

Sam laughed, “Uh-oh, snitches get it double.” He lifted his legs, removing Ben’s cover, and Dean swooped in.

Lisa found them later, all on the floor, red-faced and out of breath. “Mom, Dean tickled me to death. I’m dead.” He put his arm to his forehead and pretended to swoon dramatically.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She said. “Cause I brought ice cream home and if you’re dead you won’t be able to have any.”

“Ice cream?” Ben said. “I think I’m going to make a full recovery,” he said seriously, eyeing the grocery bag in her hand.

All three adults chuckled.

3.14 Long-Distance Call

Dean was playing catch in the backyard with Ben, and after that Dean was going to teach Ben more about the Impala and classic cars. Ben was a smiling, sarcastic, goofball, not unlike his father, soaking up the attention. Sam was in the kitchen getting a snack, some rice cakes with peanut butter. He was thinking about that moment he’d had with Dean, where Dean made that heartfelt and absolutely gut-wrenching confession that he was terrified of Hell. He’d done his best to comfort Dean, but comfort was never really his specialty. As much as Dean teased him for wanting to ‘talk about his feelings,’ it wasn’t really true. Whenever Jess had gotten upset he’d ended up just patting her back awkwardly until she gave up and went to call one of her friends. He was just more expressive in comparison to Dean, which wasn’t hard to do. Sometimes Sam thought a rock would have more emotions than his brother. Though lately he could see the desperation practically pour off of Dean as the days slipped away.

So Sam had done his best, and they’d had beer and watched TV and it’d been okay. Except for how it felt like Dean had been looking for something more, and Sam had no idea what that might be. He was pondering this as Lisa walked in. She glanced at his snack, “Looks good,” she said.

And Sam was hit by an idea. Lisa was a chick, which meant that she could do those chick flick moments, right? He couldn’t tell her about Dean’s deal, because Dean would never forgive him for that. But maybe he could just tell her something was wrong, and she would know to be there for him, even if she didn’t know what was wrong.

“Hey, Lisa,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He put his peanut buttered rice cakes on a plate.

“Sure. What’s up?” she asked.

“Let’s sit down,” he picking up his plate and went to sit at the dining room table. She followed him, a concerned frown on her face.

“Okay, you’re making me a little nervous,” she said, giving Sam a small smile as she sat across from him.

“No, it’s nothing really bad,” Sam said, except that it was horrible, “I just wanted to tell you that Dean’s sort of going through a hard time right now.”

She nodded, “Yeah, I thought he’s been seeming tense lately.”

Sam was surprised, he hadn’t thought anyone but him would pick up on it. “He doesn’t want to talk about it, and I can’t really tell you what’s going on, he’d never forgive me.” He laughed to make it seem like it wasn’t that serious, “but I thought you should know.”

“Well,” she said, “Thanks for letting me know that there’s something going on, but being too vague for me help.” She raised her eyebrows at him in expectation, requesting more information.

He shook his head, “I really can’t tell you more.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, “Sam Winchester. You obviously are concerned enough to come talk to me about it, so spill. Don’t just leave me in the dark here.”

Sam leaned back, her vehemence shone in her eyes. “Uh, no, I really can’t.”

She cocked her head and glared into his eyes, and oh fuck that’s the same look Jess used to give him when she thought he was being an asshole. “Dean’s running out of time.” Shit, it just came out of his mouth.

“Running out of time for what?” she demanded.

“He’s sold his soul and the hellhounds are gonna drag him away May 2nd.” He blurted out. Sam was starting to think he’d seriously misjudged mild mannered Lisa.

Her face blanched and she sat back. “What?”

Sam squirmed in his seat. “I’m working on getting him out of it, but we’re running out of time and he’s freaking out.” He put his head in his hands. “We’re both freaking out.”

“Wh-Why would he sell his soul?” She asked, her voice trembling.

“It was a few weeks before we met you. I…died; he did it to bring me back to life,” Sam explained. He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Was he ever going to tell us? Or was he planning on just disappearing?” There was anger in her voice now. Sam’s silence gave her the answer.

“He didn’t want you to worry about him,” Sam offered. “Please don’t, don’t get on his case about it. He’s going through enough right now.”

“Don’t get on his case? This is a big deal Sam, you’re telling me he’s going to die, and that he knows it, has known it this whole time!” Yeah, she was definitely angry.

“He’s not just dying, Lisa. He’s going to Hell. The literal, fire and brimstone, eternal torture, Hell. Can you blame him for wanting to spare you that knowledge?” Sam pleaded with her.

Lisa’s eyes lost some of their anger. “Are you sure? I mean, I always thought Hell was,” she waved her hand in the air, “more metaphorical.”

Sam snorted, “It’s real. Where do you think demons come from?”

She slumped back, taking it all in, and Sam didn’t say anything else. They sat in silence, the rice cakes forgotten on the table between them. The sun dropped slowly lower in the sky and Sam heard Dean and Ben finish playing catch and head to the garage to work on the Impala. Sam heard Dean turn on the radio and a classic rock station came on, background noise while they worked.

Finally Lisa spoke. “So,” she hesitated, “Can you stop it?”

Sam looked at his hands, “I’m trying. I’ve been researching every day, Bobby’s looking too. I, we haven’t found anything yet. Our best shot is the Colt, which we don’t have anymore because Bela stole it.” Sam clenched his fists.

“Bitch.” Lisa’s lip curled in hate.

Sam huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, she really is.” He hung his head.

There was more silence. “May 2nd, huh?” Sam just nodded. He was hoping his bangs were hiding his face, because telling Lisa everything had awoken all the emotions he’d been trying to ignore, and his eyes burned with unshed tears.

They sat there until the sun sunk below the horizon, and the darkness crept in.



Lisa stepped into Sam and Dean’s room, crossed her arms and stared hard at Dean. “You jackass.” A shocked and confused look came over Dean’s face. Sam glanced between the two of them and made a quick exit, slipping out the door with as much stealth as his giant stature would allow. He knew what this was about. Lisa had waited until after dinner to confront Dean because she didn’t want Ben involved, but the atmosphere had been tense, and she’d gotten more than a few curious looks from Dean and Ben because she was so quiet.

“Lisa, what-” Dean started to ask.

“When, exactly, were you going to tell me you were going to Hell on May 2nd?” She demanded. He went white, the color draining from his face.

“How did you find out about that?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” she shot back. “I really think that’s something I should have known, Dean.”

His face closed off, hiding whatever was going on in his head. “Sam. Sam told you.”

“Yeah, Sam told me. But you know what? I would rather have heard it from you, Dean.” She took a step forward. “I thought we were a family, and then you go and keep something like this from us. How could you?” Lisa let her anger take over, so the fear wouldn’t show.

“I, I was trying to protect you.” Dean said, his voice gave nothing away.

“I’m a grown woman, Dean. I don’t need you to protect me. Not from this.” She shook her head. She advanced again and Dean tilted his head to the side, as if expecting her to hit him. She stopped and studied him. He was standing, his whole body almost vibrating with tension, his eyes closed. Braced for rejection.

“You were afraid,” she said, letting her arms drop to her sides. “You were scared I wouldn’t want to deal with it, with you. That I’d kick you out of our lives.” He didn’t say anything, but she read the confirmation in the way he, impossibly, tensed even more. “Dean,” She said, reaching up, putting her hand on his cheek. “You’re family. We love you. You’re Ben’s father. I told you from the beginning, that’s a forever job. You’re not going anywhere,” she told him.

Dean let his breath out in a rush, and she wondered if he’d even realized he was holding it. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and his hands went tentatively to her waist. “It’ll be okay,” she said, her anger gone. He gave a half laugh, half sob, and yeah, she knew how ludicrous it was for her to say that. She had no way to make it true, and it was looking like everything was absolutely not going to be okay. But Lisa knew that sometimes you just needed to hear it, even if it wasn’t true. So she said it again. “It will be okay.” She cupped the back of his head down to her shoulder.

And suddenly he was hugging her back, clutching the back of her shirt in his fists. She felt him shake, and her shoulder grew wet, but she didn’t say anything. Lisa stood there, petting his head and just let him cry. Because sometimes you needed to cry, and it sounded like Dean hadn’t let himself go like this in a long time.

She stayed with him the whole night, and they didn’t speak again, she gave what comfort she could with no words.

Sam slept on the couch.

3.15 Time Is On My Side

Three weeks, actually a little less. That’s how much time Dean had left. Sam spent the time frantically searching for an answer. He could be found with his head in some ancient book or on the phone to Bobby at all hours.

Meanwhile, Lisa spent time with Dean, trying to keep his spirits up. It was an uphill battle, as with each day that passed she saw him get quietly more desperate. They spent time with Ben, taking him to the movies and the zoo, the aquarium and what seemed like hundreds of trips to the local park. Then at night they’d watch movies and play video games, but only after Ben’s supernatural lessons.

Once Ben went to bed, the adults would have a beer, and if Dean had more than a few, neither Sam nor Lisa could begrudge him that.

Dean spent his nights with Lisa now, though all of his things were still in the room with Sam. Sometimes they had sex, sometimes Dean just collapsed, worn out from the worry and the beer. Sometimes she held him while he wrapped his arms around and clung to her, fingers grasping the material of her shirt, face buried in the place where her neck and shoulder meet. Sometimes he held her, his arms a comforting pressure, squeezing lightly every once in a while as if to make sure she was still there.

Ben could tell something was going on, but he didn’t know what. Lisa made the decision to not tell him about Dean’s deal. He was only eight, her baby boy; he didn’t need the burden the rest of them were carrying. All Ben knew was that he got to spend lots of time with Dean, and he was fine with that. He thrived under Dean’s attention. The week before May 2nd Lisa let Ben skip a few days of school to hang out with Dean instead. She loved to watch them together; they were so cute. Apparently blood tells, because Ben and Dean were so alike it was scary. They spoke the same way, had many of the same mannerisms, and Ben had even taken to making his hair look like Dean’s, and when he was wearing the leather jacket he’d gotten for Christmas, he and Dean were practically a matched set.

They were adorable, but sometimes a moment would come and her heart would clench painfully in her chest. Like when Ben, who was going to be turning nine in about a month, asked Dean if he was going to be at his party.

“Are you gonna be there, cause dude, it’ll be awesome. You can’t go on a job on my birthday. What kind of cake do you think I should have?” Ben chatted innocently.

Dean’s face twisted into a grimace of pain briefly, before he schooled his expression into his usual smile. He ruffled Ben’s hair, “You know I’ll try to be there, bud. Can’t make promises though. And skip the cake, you should have pie.”

“Pie!” Ben’s eyes lit up, “Dude, that’s brilliant!” He looked over at Lisa, “Mom, can we have pie?”

“Sure,” she said, voice slightly strangled. She cleared her throat. “Pie sounds great.”



It was two days before the deal came due and Sam and Dean were planning on leaving for Bobby’s place, in the hopes that they’d find some eleventh hour solution.

Dean said goodbye to Lisa first, he took her up to their bedroom and sat her down. He stood in front of her and spoke, “Lisa, you’re amazing and beautiful and I’m so glad we had that crazy weekend nine years ago because it meant I could have this.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “This past year with you and Ben has been the best year of my life. I never really thought I’d have a family of my own, and then I got you guys. You mean so much to me, and I wish…I wish we could have more time.” He took one hand out of his pocket and reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. “I wish we could have forever.” He smiled softly, “But since we don’t, I just want you to know, I love you.” Lisa felt tears well up behind her eyes, but didn’t let them fall. He’d never said that out loud before.

There was a long moment of silence where Dean waited for her response. She smirked, “Did you practice that?” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she would have liked, but it was all right.

He ducked his head, “Maybe a little.”

She reached out for him, pulled his hands into her own and tugged him toward her. “Dean,” she said looking in his eyes. “I love you, too.”

The moment was charged with love, sorrow, desperation, and passion as Dean leaned down and kissed her. She put her hand behind his head, holding him to her, and leaned back on the bed dragging him with her. He put his arms down on either side or her to support himself and she opened her legs so he could stand between them. He disengaged and she blinked up at him as his hands slid her shirt up and off, then he removed his own. Then he dipped back down to devour her mouth again while his fingers skillfully unclasped her bra, removing it to be deposited on the floor, and they were chest to chest, skin to skin. One of his hands went to her breast, caressing and plucking her nipples. She trembled in his arms.

The pants went next; he tenderly undid her jeans and pulled them off slowly. Less care went into divesting himself of his own. As he slid her underwear down he kissed the skin as he went. Her hips, her thighs, her knees, her ankles all got tiny, teasing kisses.

Once the underwear was gone, tossed to the floor, he worked his way back up again, till he got to the place where she was already wet. He licked and sucked until she was panting and oh so ready for him. “Dean,” she said, breathless, “come on.” She tugged on his hair and he followed, crawling up her body to kiss her lips once again. She moaned into the kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

He fit his hips between her legs and she lifted herself to help him. Then reached down, taking himself in hand, and carefully entered her. She gasped, breaking the kiss, “Dean.” His thrusts were gentle at first, gradually growing harder. “More,” she said, and he felt his smile from where he had his face buried against her neck. The next thrust was more forceful, slamming into her. “Yeah, yeah, Dean,” she babbled, as he pounded her just right, teasing her nipples with fingers and tongue at the same time. He brought her to the edge and then pushed her over when he reached down and stroked her clit. She shuddered around him and moaned.

“Lisa,” he groaned. When she was done he kept going, chasing his own orgasm. She lay there, feeling the aftershocks and watching his face. She felt him come inside her and kissed him through it. When it was over he lowered himself down, so he was lying on top of her, his face pressed to her shoulder. She held him, running her hand through his hair.

This was the last time.



Dean said goodbye to Ben next. Lisa was there helping load their bags into the Impala. They’d told Ben before that this was a very dangerous mission. Lisa had tried to prepare Ben for the idea that one, or both of the brothers depending on how things went, might not come back.

“You’ll be back, right Dean? Cause dude, you can’t miss my birthday party,” Ben said, watching Dean load the weapons in the trunk.

Dean finished and shut the trunk, turning to Ben. He knelt down so he was eye level. “Ben. You, your mom, and Sam. You’re my family. I’d never leave you if I could help it,” he said. “But I’m gonna be honest here bud, okay? Cause you’re almost nine and I think you can handle it.” Dean took a breath, and Ben seemed to be holding his. “There’s a good chance I won’t be back Ben.”

“What?” Ben suddenly seemed younger than usual, he’d lost his ever-present attitude and his face was vulnerable and innocent.

“But I love you, you know that. You’re my son. Nothing will ever change that. Remember what I taught you, and take care of your mom, okay?” Dean pulled Ben into a hug. “You’ll have to be the man of the house, cause we know Sammy doesn’t count.”

Ben hugged him back, hands curling into Dean’s leather jacket and his face pressed into Dean’s shoulder. “Okay. I will.” His voice was thick with tears and slightly muffled by the jacket, but his eyes were dry, and Lisa’s heart broke for her boys. Dean picked Ben up and gestured to her to come take him.

She walked over and hugged them both, “Good luck,” she whispered. Dean nodded in response, and she took Ben, transferring his arms so they were around her neck now. She backed up a few steps and Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car. He waved and got in; Sam was on the other side and Lisa shared a look with him before he slid into his own seat. Silently telling him to please, please, please, bring Dean back. He nodded, message received, she knew he’d do everything he could.

The Impala pulled out of the driveway and made its way down the street. Lisa and Ben both watched it until it was out of sight, hope and dread mingling in their hearts.
3.16 No Rest for the Wicked

Midnight on May 2nd Lisa watched the color of Ben’s amulet, the one he’d gotten for Christmas, fade from a dark maroon to lighter, softer red. She remembered what she’d been told about its properties, that when a loved one dies the color weakens. She tugged Ben closer to her on the couch, he was barely still awake and whimpered in protest as she hugged him to her, snuggled up in his own leather jacket. “Mom?” He mumbled.

“Shh, Ben. Go to sleep.” She brushed his bangs from his face and kissed his forehead. He settled, and she leaned her head back, letting the tears run down her temples and into her hair.

It was May 4th before Lisa and Ben heard anything official, and the fact that it took so long, as they waited for word, meant that things hadn’t gone well. Lisa knew that Dean was probably gone because of Ben’s amulet, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Ben until she was one hundred percent sure. Lisa spent the days with Ben, watching movies and reading stories, trying to keep his mind off of what they both couldn’t stop thinking about. Dean had only been in their lives for a year, but he’d become a part of them so much that Lisa already felt like they’d lost part of themselves.

Ben would ask, “Do you think Dean’s okay?”

She’d answer with, “I don’t know, I hope so.” But as the hours passed she felt more and more like she did know the answer, that the amulet was right, because if Dean had made it, he wouldn’t have waited this long to let them know.

But Lisa didn’t know, hadn’t realized, how much hope she had left until it was ripped from her.

There was a knock on the door and she and Ben looked at each other. They went to open it together. The door opened to reveal Sam. Sam with red, puffy eyes and a lost look on his face. When he saw them, he answered their unspoken question with a slow shake of his head, another tear making its way down his face.

The gasping sob took Lisa by surprise and her hand went to cover her mouth. Ben, standing next to her, started crying. They all just stood there, salt in the air. Sam looked incomplete, without his brother beside him, and Lisa stepped forward to embrace him. “Oh, Sam.” She said. He brought his hands up in a loose embrace and leaned down so his face was buried in her neck.

“I tried, Lisa. I swear, I tried so hard,” he sobbed into her hair.

“I know,” she stepped back and pulled him into the house. Dean was gone, but Sam was still family. Sam picked a quietly sniffling Ben up, hugging him, and Lisa knew that Ben was the only living part of his brother he had left. That any of them had left.

It hurt so much, knowing that they were all here; that they at least had each other to get through this. But Sam and Lisa knew that Dean didn’t have that. Dean was suffering in Hell. Forever. The End.

Epilogue