The lost plateau - The lost daughter Part 1
August 8th
Brother. Lover. Grandson.
I've gained so many titles here on the plateau. So many new places to fill to the best of my abilities.
Separating the different levels of my love for my brother has proved quite impossible. Standing next to him, I feel like the orphan I used to be has married into royalty and now sees the world from the top. I have but to want and my wishes will be satisfied.
And yet I've already lost my grandfather's regard. Was it selfish of me to want it all ? Want Dean and Samuel to both love me? To accept me as I am ?
The professor lied to me for quite a few years, earning my trust and gratitude for his help and moral support during my studies. But I'm still in the dark as to why he never told me about our kinship. He came to me again today, told me that I must protect myself against Dean's devilish seduction, that my mother would be appalled by my attitude but that there is still time to make amends and renounce the error of my ways. I asked in return why it is so important that my mother be proud of me when he never told me I was her child in the first place. He left, and I'm beginning to think he doesn't even know himself.
When I remember the way he treated Dean, I imagine that perhaps he doesn't know how to love anyone else than his daughter.
The more time passed, the less Sam minded being stuck on the plateau. The days were well spent, a few mild rainy days keeping them inside the Tree house more, which gave Sam the opportunity to stay in with his brother, make love with him and encourage him to talk about his life, all that time they had spent far from one another after being separated by their mother. Everything Dean could remember about their childhood, their life back in Kansas, that Sam had no memory of at all, and then in England after Dad inherited the castle that stood big and a tad frightening in his mind. With his adult eyes, Dean said it was just a country manor, lovely and homey but hard to warm in winter, a place Sam would learn to love as soon as he got back there.
Dean generally obliged Sam and told him everything he wanted to know until he couldn't stand being cooped up anymore. He then took Sam with him to go on whatever adventure he might be interested in at that particular moment. Sometimes, Sam would help someone else, Professor Singer for example, who had been trying for a while to come up with a trustworthy map of the plateau, using the sketchy ones already drawn by the previous expedition as well as his own surveys and Castiel's knowledge.
They didn't see much of Meg and Jenn outside of the meals and a few excursions, the two women sticking together to do their chores and pass the time ; Sam suspected their relationship might have turned to look a lot like his and Dean's, something meaningful and destined for the long haul.
Or, he thought, something that looked a lot like a honeymoon. He had never dreamt of living such happy times, but here he was, stranded in a dangerous land, far from everything and everyone that used to make his life, and he couldn't be more satisfied.
Even the menial tasks pleased him and taught him more things about his lover. Cooking and chopping wood were parts of their daily chores, but there was so much more to do when no one was around to do it for you. The men had learned to sew when it had become evident that neither Jenn nor Meg would mend their torn clothes. In this just like everything else, Dean strived to be the best, and if Sam at first had believed this was another show of his annoying competitive streak, he had later realized that Dean simply strived for efficiency because of his upbringing.
"One of the pieces of advice I remember from our father is this," Dean told him once, altering his voice to a deeper level to imitate an older man, as he was carving a feather for Sam in order to make up for the lack of pencils, "'If you should learn something, son, do it to the best of your ability, or don't do it at all.' He believed in efforts and drills, in labor and pain, and thought that if you couldn't do it well, then 'Let someone more talented than you proceed in your place.' Samuel is right about this, Dad was very military on this account : the best use of the resources at your disposal implies a gathering of talents, but also the constant need to challenge yourself to make sure you're always the best you can achieve, in as many fields as possible."
Just like making ink and feather-pencils for his brother, long before Sam ever realized he was going to need them and ask for anything. It was also probably a good example of something Jenn had told Sam about their childhood spent together after her parents had taken Dean under their wings, Dean's need to prove he wasn't living off somebody else's work, that he was doing his part, and to make sure he wouldn't be left behind once again.
Sam had managed to put together a large part of Dean's life after their father's death. Dean had told him quite a bit, and then Jenn had filled in a few blanks when Sam had grilled her, more or less subtly, to get the information he wanted.
It indeed wasn't a pretty story, and Sam had discovered the darkest side of his grandfather he still had a hard time believing, even now that he was shunned by the man almost as much as Dean himself for the close relationship they didn't try to hide.
Maybe he should be more concerned about the whole incestuous situation, but if Dean didn't freak about it, Sam didn't see why he should. He felt happy, cared for more than ever, loved, important. He had his brother back, along with his personal history, his roots, and all these didn't preclude the most intense relationship he had ever experienced.
Samuel could rant about his sacrilegious, devilish urges all he wanted. Sam wouldn't let go of his happiness. Not for anyone, and certainly not for his grandfather as he was still wondering about the man's alleged reasons for hiding their filiation from Sam during all those years.
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Dean took advantage of one of Castiel's visits to pick up his extended shamanic knowledge while they were all seated at the table for lunch.
"I need the ingredients to make more cartridges. We're running lower than I like, so we're gonna have to make another trip to find it all."
"He's right," Campbell approved.
"Am I ?" Dean asked, flabbergasted that they were for once in agreement. "Right, I am."
"You are," the professor confirmed as if the words had been torn out of his mouth and left the most disgusting taste behind. "Don't let it go to your head."
"Okay," Dean smirked and went on. "First, the gunpowder. For that, I've found the saltpeter already in a nearby cave. Charcoal will also be relatively easy to get, so we have to find sulfur."
Castiel piped in.
"I know of a mine exploiting the sulfur from the volcano."
"A volcano ?" Professor Singer repeated, more than a little surprised. "There's a volcano on the plateau ? And no one ever knew about it down in the valley ? How long since the last time it erupted ?"
"I am not sure. The last I heard was two of your years ago, but there might have been some small eruptions in the meanwhile."
"Well, I'll be damned. A volcano. I need to see this."
"Seems you're going to get your wish, Professor. Will we be able to trade with the miners ?" Dean asked.
The shaman nodded.
"I'm sure if you offer to work for them the way you did for the Tapuils, you'll get your sulfur."
"Okay. Now the hardest part is going to make the casings. Cas, do you know some blacksmith tribe that would be able to manufacture something like this ?"
Dean took a cartridge out of his pocket and showed it to the shaman.
"There's no mechanical plant on the plateau, Dean," Meg reminded him.
"I know, but we just need someone able to create some kind of master print for the bullets and then I'll be able to produce them as soon as we get the raw material. It probably won't work as well as the bullets I brought but it's better than nothing if we have to face dinosaurs."
"You want to make your own bullets ?" Sam realized.
"I'm hoping you'll help me," Dean answered with a smile. "We have to do it by ourselves. We can't afford to show these people what our rifles do, the risk would be too great that they turn on us to steal the arms and go to war with their neighbors. And if we lose the rifles… I can make bullets, I've done it already, but I can't make a pistol."
"What else do you need ?" Castiel wondered.
"Lead, copper... I'm hoping you know of other mines, or maybe some easily reachable deposit."
"I do."
"Great ! So, can you draw a map of the mines and other villages that might agree to help us ?"
"No, I won't."
Dean and everyone else looked at the shaman, taken aback by his unusual negative attitude.
"I believe you will need more than a map on this trip. A map wouldn't be able to avoid the most dangerous dinosaurs and you might not find your way back in case you have to wander. I will accompany you."
"Man, that's great !" Dean rejoiced with a big slap on Castiel's back, pushing the shaman to lose his wooden spoon which splashed into the bowl and broth below.
Sam sent an annoyed look to Dean, who looked contrite for all of two seconds before laughter took him.
They spent the rest of the afternoon making plans for the upcoming trip. They would leave two days later, after preparing bags of food and drinkable water for a two-week journey.
That night, as Sam and he were already in bed, Dean went back to his grandfather's surprising support.
"I wonder why he's so eager to travel. Probably couldn't find what he's looking for around here and hopes to discover it along the way."
"You still have no idea what it is he's searching for ?"
"Nothing more than clues and theories. No real detail or evidence."
Dean sighed and then let his hand wander over Sam's body.
"Better make the best of tonight, we won't be able to have sex that easily once on the road," Dean said as he lowered his head towards Sam's arching chest.
He played with Sam's nipples for a few moments before he felt content that he had all his attention and traced Sam's ribs towards his flanks, making sure not to tickle, and then continued on his way down to lick and play with each of Sam's balls in its turn, pushing Sam's legs back to get better access and earning himself arousing moans of pleasure. When he finally took Sam's cock in his mouth and turned Sam into a big pile of mush, Dean's left hand went further down to gently massage his entrance, stroking to arouse but never penetrating.
Sam wasn't afraid. Dean and he were so very different in life, but they had this uncanny understanding in the bedroom that made sure Dean wouldn't go where Sam wasn't ready to follow. For this reason, they hadn't done penetrative sex again since it had been more or less forced on Sam for his first time during the virgin sacrifice the Amazon-like warriors had kidnapped him to achieve, and Dean had never pressed the issue, quite content to get Sam any way he could. And Sam felt exactly the same.
Sam soon returned the favor, proud to see he had gotten better and better at this and Dean was the one reaping the reward for what Sam liked to call with a smirk his sucking prowess.
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They left as soon as the sun was up, marching right to Castiel's village first.
The shaman was there, waiting for them in the company of Guyel.
"Hey, nice to see you," Meg exclaimed, happy and surprised to meet with her friend.
They exchanged a quick hug before Guyel turned to the explorers and saluted them. Their relationship had improved with time but still, they were all stunned to see his large smile and welcoming attitude ; not that much to discover that the man could in fact speak English, even with a strong accent. If Rachel had learned with Meg's parents, it made sense for Meg to teach her language to her best friend. It was also a clear show of trust that the explorers appreciated for what it was.
"I'm proud to announce that in the month after my father passed away," he said, and Dean could see the weight taken off the native's shoulders in the way he stood straight and kind of majestic, "I have passed the trials and am now officially the leader of my tribe. As such, I've decided to take back my real name, Guy, which you are authorized to use to address me."
Meg jumped straight into her friend's arms to congratulate him. Dean and the others turned to Castiel but the shaman silently asked them to wait with a single stare.
"What does that mean, his real name ?" Sam later wondered as they had left the village to begin their trip. "Why change it in the first place ?"
"Uriel did it," Castiel answered. "You might have remarked that some of our names end in "el", like Uriel or Rachel, or even my own name. This is the sign of the spiritual power the owner of the name is capable of wielding. Sometimes even magical power."
"That's interesting," Professor Campbell said, "and once again, just like this Amazon-like tribe we encountered, brings forth the question of cross-reference between the plateau and other civilizations. El is the Semitic word meaning god or deity. It also speaks of power in many ancient cultures of the middle-east."
"A suffix can bring you power in this land ?" Professor Singer asked Castiel more directly, never one to dismiss an idea simply because it looked stupid or farfetched. "Or did Uriel just wish it did ?"
"He hoped that forcing the issue would result in a positive increase in Guy's power. Once Guy's mother was dead, he had me celebrating a ceremony to elevate his son's power and then changed his name. Guy became Guyel. Against all advice - Uriel had a huge fight over this with Rachel, before she joined the tribe you call Amazon, as she disagreed too openly with him, wanting to protect the child - he raised his son to act as a priest and ignored the boy's true talents. Guy always had both feet firmly planted on the ground, no change of name could make him look to the stars."
"That's why the Amazon priestess wanted to know about Sam's name, right ?" Dean remembered suddenly and turned to Meg. "You wanted Rachel to feel he was close to her. She thought he was some kind of fellow priest, simply because of the el suffix, and that's why she accepted the change of sacrifice, that I took him instead of the beast, because Samuel would be able to speak with the gods."
"And she was right," Castiel said before Meg could answer. "Samuel does have a connection to the gods, and maybe even more to this planet. The plateau resonates highly when their energies align."
"What does it mean ?" Sam asked, thankful for the supporting hand Dean brought to the small of his back as they kept walking.
"That you have a predisposition to connect with the elements and understand the mysteries of the universe. Had you been born here, your destiny would have clearly brought you to become a shaman, with your brother by your side as the tribe leader. You two would have been powerful and invincible."
They looked at each other, a small but true smile appearing on Dean's face that included all the promises to make it true in any world they would inhabit in the future. Side by side, together.
"What about our grandfather ?" Sam asked. "He's also called Samuel."
Castiel watched the professor in this all-knowing, all-seeing way he often used, before he averted his eyes.
"Despite his many talents and vast knowledge, Professor Campbell suffers from his incapacity and unwillingness to connect with others around himself. His empathetic self has been truncated and ripped from his soul. He would not have been a good shaman for his people."
"Why thank you, Castiel," Professor Campbell cut in, his voice dripping irony. "So, where are we going exactly ? Where do you take us first and what will we get there ?"
"Good questions," Dean agreed. "Not to be difficult, but judging by the sun's position, we're not heading in the right direction if we hope to find this volcano someday."
"First, we need another mean of transportation," Castiel announced to the group walking behind him, not fazed in the slightest by the professor's reaction and choosing to address Dean's concern. "This is too long a journey to do it by foot."
"Really ? Can you summon an automobile up here on the plateau ?" Dean joked.
"You're not making any sense, Dean."
Sam laughed and got a black stare from his brother for his trouble.
"How big is this plateau, anyway ?" Dean changed the subject.
"Very," Castiel answered unhelpfully.
"Well, thanks for the precision, Shaman Obvious. Now what's this alternate mean of transportation ?"
"Dinosaurs, of course."
"What ?" Sam exclaimed.
"You don't need to worry, Samuel. These dinosaurs belong to the herbivore genre and they're very playful characters. My tribe doesn't ride them much but we know how to tame them. Often, they get attached to their human rider and refuse then to take on another one. Very touching creatures."
Sam decided to reserve his opinion for later since he was having a hard time believing the shaman. And judging from his companions' faces, he wasn't the only one.
"So where do we find them ?" Bobby asked.
"At this time of the vegetation's yearly life, very close from here, thankfully. We're already walking that way, we will be there soon."
Less than half an hour later, they broke out of the forest to step onto a huge clearing they had already seen, but the animals placidly grazing around were new to all of them but Castiel and Meg.
A dinosaur detached from its herd as they approached, the explorers tense and ready to run as the beast joined with Castiel who climbed on its back as soon as he was done stroking it to say hello.
"Now you each need to find your own ride," Castiel said, showing with his hand the rest of the herd.
Most of the beasts watched them back with curiosity but a few others, already belonging to someone or simply uninterested, kept on chewing happily on the grass.
Dean stepped further into the meadow and took a look around, fascinated by the big animals strangely graceful despite their huge torso and small forelegs, until the moment one of them, seemingly out of nowhere, decided to jump high in the sky, as if its weight counted for nothing and gravity couldn't match the need to show its happiness to the world at large. It was soon imitated by quite a few other dinosaurs. Most leaps were followed by a crazy run, especially in the case of the smaller specimens, probably youngsters in need of release and showing off for the pretty dinosaur ladies surrounding them.
Their hardened skin was mostly grey-green, save for the tanned beige underside going from their chin to the pointy end of their tail, passing through their long neck and torso. Powerful muscles rolled with each movement, evocative of a strength best left untested, just like the two long claws at the end of their front legs or the four scratching the soil with each step.
Strangely enough, it was not the younger ones who seemed the most interested in the humans admiring them from afar, but already adult ones intrigued by the way they laughed at the dinosaurs' antics.
One stood out thanks to its one-of-a-kind, gorgeous black hide glinting in the morning sun, making it stand out next to the others. It seemed it was as taken with Dean as Dean was with it, eyes fixed on the hunter before it made its way towards him in a series of timid steps and incredible leaps.
"Does it have the hiccups or something ?" Dean joked, but his amazement was clear on his face. "Nice dino, come here !"
"It looks more like a wooing dance," Sam remarked in jest. "Seems like it's trying to seduce you."
"Just as awkward as you are," Campbell intervened in a mean tone. "I remember your father calling you Deano when you were a kid. Now I get why. Dino, Deano… Spastic and uncontrollable, that's just you."
The professor and Dean exchanged belligerent stares, Campbell unimpressed by the collective anger aimed at him.
"Yeah, well," Dean finally answered as if his grandfather's venom hadn't touched him, "there's a lot of things my father used to do and say that you never got and never will. Your loss."
Dean turned his back and ignored him to greet the dinosaur now very close to him, offering his hand to smell like he would with a dog.
"Hey, boy ! Want to travel with me and my friends for a little while, see the sights and sleep under the stars ?"
"I believe this dinosaur to be a female, Dean," Castiel explained.
"How was I supposed to know that ?! I didn't look down there," Dean grumbled through his friends' sniggers.
The dinosaur came closer in response to his tone, caressing its snout against Dean's face, the eye on the right side of its head fixed on the human.
"Good girl," he praised her, already seduced. "Dean Winchester, always a hit with the ladies !"
Love at first sight had been mutual, and Sam felt stupid for the little bit of jealousy he went through when Dean stroked the dinosaur's flank and then soon found the way to imitate Castiel and settle on the animal's back.
Dean was amazed by the immediate connection he felt with this wild beast who could flatten him with one of her hind legs, not to mention the rest of her big body. He knew she would never harm him ; on the contrary, she would defend and protect him to the best of her ability, and he also knew he would do the same.
"I'm calling her Impala," he announced to his friends, "like the African animals. It's fitting, she leaps just like them."
"You've seen impalas ? You visited Africa ?" Sam deduced. "Was it for a safari or one of your hunts ?
"The safari was the reason we gave everyone not in the know," Jenn answered for Dean, too occupied with learning to master his dinosaur, "but we went down there and traveled through the continent while hunting after my husband passed away."
Sam didn't understand the link with the death of her husband, but there it was again, the proof that Dean and Jenn had experienced together so many things Sam hadn't. That Jenn was trained in many areas Sam wasn't. It made him want to prove himself right here, right now, show his brother that he could do just as good as his old partner, that Dean could rely on him for just about anything.
He had to get on one of these beasts before Jenn, but for that he needed to find the right dinosaur first. He decided to walk further in the meadow, just like Dean had done, in the hope to attract his own match. He felt Dean and Impala following him closely, the dinosaur soon pushing him in the direction she wanted with a small but firm pressure of her head on his back.
Sam ignored Dean's amusement when he saw the animal waiting for him. Something in it reminded Sam of Impala, her unusual color replaced by another rare one, waves of charcoal and lighter grey coating its back harmoniously.
"This one is definitely a boy," Meg said from the back of her own dinosaur. "And probably Impala's brother."
It was so fitting. Sam smiled and closed the distance between him and his dinosaur who stood from its seated position. It was bigger than Impala but somehow less imposing thanks to its non-showy color. And it was just as cuddly, bending its long neck down to caress Sam's head with its own.
"Hey," Sam said before he stroked its neck in return. "If your sister's called Impala, I guess you could go by Buck."
He didn't rush this first moment before he found the point over Buck's knee on which to put his feet and push to climb on the dinosaur's back. It felt a lot like horse riding, with a bigger horse and no reins, but gripping the hard ridges of the animal's skin was enough to remain stable. They would probably grip the neck of their beasts in case running or leaping was needed.
The look of love and admiration on Dean's face was quite pleasant as Sam watched, out of the corner of his eye, Jenn only approaching her own dinosaur.
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Traveling on dinoback, as Dean put it, was far more pleasant than the long hours they had spent walking on other occasions. It was pretty hard on the backside, but Dean was always ready to rub Sam's butt better before they slept and they were all a lot less tired each time they stopped for the night. There were no complaints either the next day when they left as soon as the morning dawned.
They were also able to talk leisurely before sleep took them and Sam kept using the time when Dean wasn't too busy with something else to ask the many questions floating in his mind about all the years he had missed far from his brother.
"How come you don't have more of an English accent ?"
"Hey, I can if I want to," Dean insisted and then proceeded to speak with the worst cockney accent Sam had ever heard.
Dean saw his grimace and became more serious.
"We were born in Kansas and I grew up there for my first seven or eight years. Then I guess living in an American family, both ours and then Jenn's, kept me from adopting the local accent. Plus I didn't spend that much time in England once I was old enough to decide what to do about my life, constantly traveling around the world."
There was something Dean wouldn't say, not entirely at least, Sam was sure of it. Never mind, he would get it out of him or Jenn sooner or later.
"How long did Jenn's family take care of you ?" he tried anyway.
"When they realized our dear grandfather wouldn't take me with him, they took me home and raised me as their son. Jody and Sean Mills, they're the best people you can imagine. They had lost a son a few years prior, and they were very protective of Jenny. This feeling extended to me, even when I was being a jerk fighting against any show of tenderness or interest. They've always been there for me."
"Are they still alive ?"
"Thank God, yes, and they take care of the domain while we're here. If we ever make it back, they're gonna love you. Prepare to be mothered to death by Jody. Subtly, but relentlessly."
"Don’t they mind that you've gone on so many dangerous adventures ? Especially Jenn ?"
"I guess they do, but there's not a lot they can do apart from making sure we're ready to take everything thrown at us. And if Jenn has to leave the nest, they sure prefer that she be with me rather than with anybody they can't know for certain will take care of her, and vice versa."
Sam made sure to talk to Jenn the next day about these new elements of Dean's life, comparing his information to try and find what he thought Dean had kept quiet.
"Exactly how much time did Dean spend at home before he became an adult ?"
"Not that much, really," Jenn answered dolefully, and once again Sam was left with the certainty that Jenn had harbored much deeper feelings for Dean than his brother would ever know. "He hid his loneliness for a long while, the fact that Campbell had discharged all servants at the castle but one, old and deaf, to avoid paying wages. And then my parents knew better than to try and restrain him when he turned 18. The truth is, he was just as obsessed as Campbell with finding his family again. You especially. His mother's death was one thing, but he couldn't easily face the fact that she had abandoned him, you know, and understand why. The only obvious answer was that she didn't love him that much. But you, his little brother, he had always protected. He loved you so much, and it killed him to be unable to be there for you anymore.
"One day, he was sure you were all dead. The next, he left for Nowheresville, Oregon, because he had heard about a young man and his disabled mother living in squalor in some tiny apartment. Each new disappointment would keep him running, at the mercy of any new, woolly lead."
Jenn extended a hand and wrapped it over Sam's.
"He missed you so much," she whispered, "and I knew I would never be enough to make up for your loss."
Sam turned his hand to squeeze hers and Jenn felt happy she had talked to him.
Seeing Dean with Sam, back at the Amazons', had been the most effective cure for whatever lingering feelings Jenn might have had for her best friend. Dean was in love, and there was no coming back from this.
He had had no chance, really, to avoid this ending. After all the years spent looking for his Sammy, the multiple hopes and disappointments, there was only one possible outcome and they had been naïve not to see it coming. That Sam was handsome, brave and had a great personality was just icing on the cake, Dean would have taken and loved his brother any way he came back to him.
The same chance that had given her Meg had permitted that Dean and Sam found each other in a place where they could take the time to learn to know each other again, where they didn't have to hide their relationship the way they would have to, should they ever find a way to make it back home.
"If we couldn't be together," Sam said, "I'm glad he had you and your parents at least."
He didn't have that many memories of his younger years but he was now pretty sure that his becoming a journalist, as well as agreeing so readily to relocate to England for his first job, had all to do with the unconscious desire to find his family too. Maybe his father had passed away in all those years, but his lost brother ought to be there, somewhere.
He still couldn't quite believe that it had taken a dangerous trip on a weird plateau deep in South America to bring them back together, nor that Dean was now so much more than a fragment of his past or his badly missed brother.
Day after day, Dean invaded every aspect of his life, and Sam pushed for more. He wanted to make Dean a part of his universe, take him to Boston, to his home and his old dorm at Boston University, and then have him meet his mom and his friends, show him his little apartment in London and the articles he was proud of. All the people and things he loved, his accomplishments.
But as he thought of the lonely child Dean had been, left alone with some old servant who might have been nice but probably couldn't communicate that well if they were deaf, Sam wanted just as much to make a place for himself in Dean's day-to-day life, to become the one permanent feature Dean couldn't live without. And he would.
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They passed many villages on their way, most of them very welcoming and impressed by the presence of a shaman as revered as Castiel in their midst. The Tapuils hadn't been the only one to benefit from the man's help over the years and everyone wanted to try and give him something back, even if it was only by offering the protection of a tent for a night for him and his friends.
One week and a half into their trip, the volcano was now more than a silhouette in the distance, its grotesque form looming big and menacing to take pretty much all the place and block their horizon.
"Did you smell that ?!" Dean asked.
"Sulfur," Jenn answered with a troubled look.
"What does that mean ?" Sam enquired when nothing more came forward.
The two others exchanged a look that annoyed Sam more than anything. He was so done with their silent conversations.
"Dean ?" he insisted.
"Demon activity."
Sam looked at him and began laughing - it so wasn't what he had imagined the answer could be, a real danger of asphyxia, an explosion maybe - until it became clear that it wasn't a joke.
"What ?" he asked again, voice strangled in his throat with incomprehension and a bit of fear in front of the unknown - not to mention the excitement always so close to the surface with him, so easy to tease out. "You really think… demons exist ?"
"We know demons exist," Jenn confirmed, abrupt and not that sympathetic to Sam's bewilderment. "We've faced them more than once, and it's none of our most pleasant memories."
"Wait," Sam pleaded for a bit of sanity back in this conversation, "why imagine the worst immediately ? We came to this place to find sulfur, doesn't it seem logical to you that it smells like it ?"
"Yeah," Dean grumbled but neither he nor the others seemed really convinced, save maybe for Castiel who wore his usual mask of serenity.
"What's your instinct telling you ?" Dean asked Sam.
"That we're in no imminent danger," he replied after a few seconds of concentration. "We can go on. We need to."
Dean watched him with a small smile.
"Okay," he decided, "let's go."
They pushed their mounts and carried on with the trip.
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They stopped earlier for the last night out of the miners' village, knowing it would be the last occasion for a while to talk freely and act without being observed. They also found a safe place for the dinosaurs to wait for them without risking an attack by the villagers.
As they ate, Castiel addressed Dean with a serious expression that didn't bode well.
"Dean, as I understand it, you're the only one who knows the specifics about your bullets, is that right ?"
"I guess, yes," Dean answered, turning to the others for confirmation.
"So if we go with our plan to offer to mine what we want ourselves, you need to stay on top of the facility and to present us as your people, free laborers to mine the ore you're looking for."
"What ? No ! I can't let you people do all the work. And the women ! It would be too dangerous for them to go down the mine with all those men who have probably been celibate for too long."
"Don't worry about us," Meg told him, "we can defend ourselves, and we will all be together, defending each other. In fact, you'll be the one left alone, and thus the most vulnerable."
"I promise I'll take care of them, Dean," Sam said, "but you have to promise to be careful too."
"Sam, this is crazy. Why can't I go down with you all ?"
"Because we can't trust these people blindly," Castiel answered. "The rumor says that the miners are men from the valley, or even further ; men who look like you, who used to dress like you. But even without the risk of falling into the hands of slave drivers, you need to ensure that the quality of the ore is good and, if they agree to create the casings you want, that their work is well-done."
Sam had been the one to come up with the idea that they could have the casings made by a blacksmith rather than Dean if they pretended it was something else, some useless bauble no one would try to steal from them. It left Dean with no argument to oppose Castiel's logic, but he hated the idea to stay on top while the others did all the hard work. Hated even more the idea of not watching over Sam and being unable to protect him.
As soon as they were lying on the ground to sleep, Dean took Sam in his arms and held him tight.
"I can't let you go down there, it's too dangerous. I don't want to lose you, not now."
"Don't worry, you know we'll all protect each other."
"And Jenn ! If Jody and Sean learn that their daughter went down mining, they're gonna kill me."
Dean felt Sam tensing in his arms.
"What is it ?"
Petulantly, Sam moved aside, lying on this back, and let go of all his bitterness.
"She'll always be one of your first loves, you had a sexual relationship with her long before me. It should have been me all along, we should have fallen in love living together, sharing everything. Learning to fight demons and ghosts together, protecting each other. Not you and her."
"We can have all this now, and more. And we're so different, maybe it's best we met later. You can't be sure we would have become lovers growing up together."
"Yes, I can. What I feel for you is too big, too important to stay buried under our blood ties. We are family, beyond everything our parents and grandparents did. Mom could never really pull us apart."
"I feel like you resent Mom so much for what she did."
"And you don't ?"
"Yeah, a bit, but I know there's something I don't understand. Why did she leave in the first place ? From what I remember, even the fights between her and Dad didn't justify her leaving under secrecy, with only one of her children in tow. There's a mystery there."
"Do you think the professor knows why ?"
"I'm not sure. It's possible but he ain't talking, and it's not for lack of asking on my part."
Sam rolled over to put his head on Dean's shoulder and wrapped his arm back around his waist.
"Anyway, don't think you've made me forget about Jenn."
"Sam, she's not in love with me. She married the man she loved and losing him was a tragedy, but now she has Meg. As for me, she's been my best friend for so long and I love her dearly, but even with all those years apart, you had my heart first. The rest is just circumstances."
Sam moved to kiss Dean.
"You've had mine too. My big brother. I looked up to you all the time, wanted to be like you, because I admired you so much."
"So now you remember me ?"
"It's sketchy and fragmented, but I do have some memories. Knowing what I know now, it helped me put those memories into relief, put some flesh on the bare bones, so to speak. So instead of a faceless hero, now I have you."
Dean felt his throat closing and he forgot about his fears for the future, enough that he was able to fall asleep after a few more kisses.
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The miners' foreman was called Osir and it was doubtful he was born on the plateau. But he spoke its dialect without a trace of accent and so Dean stuck to the story they had all agreed on, posing as an entrepreneur looking to sell worthless trinkets to the uneducated population of this land.
"I was already able to sell some of those baubles and make a nice profit. This time I want to double my lead and win the jackpot."
Dean saw in the other man's eyes that his speech had gotten incomprehensible and he came back to the subject at hand.
"Here's the deal : my men here go down in your mines and help with digging the ore. We get to keep a portion of what we dig and with the rest of our hard labor, we make a deal for the copper and lead that will be used to produce the baubles your blacksmith will forge. What do you say ?"
"I say I'm curious to know what you need the sulfur for ?"
"Simple," Dean answered, remembering what Bobby had told him, "it's a great medicine : a tonic and laxative that will sell just as well as my pretty baubles."
Osir went silent for a few seconds.
"I'm willing to consider your deal, but I need something more to accept. What can you do for me ?"
Fortunately, Dean had already thought about that too.
"I'm pretty good with machines. I can make the work of your men easier, and faster. Build a belt conveyor system maybe, or anything else that will free your workers for more important tasks and make this place safer."
It didn't take a genius to realize this place, just like any other mine Dean had seen in every country, was all about productivity, and that the men's health had little to no importance in the process. He could maybe do something about it.
"Interesting," Osir admitted. "So let's say, three months of hard labor down in the mine should do nicely."
"Three months ? For the small quantities we're trading ? I don't think so. One month, and I get to keep my lover as my assistant."
"Which one is your lover ?" the foreman asked, turning towards the women.
"This one, Sam."
Osir whistled, amused.
"I could have done without one of the women but I can't let go of your best worker. Two months, and you get to see him twice a week."
"So give me one of the women back," Dean demanded.
"Nice try, friend," Osir chuckled, "but you already made your choice. My offer stands."
Dean knew he wouldn't get a better offer so they agreed.
"Shake on it !" Dean offered his hand but once again the look of incomprehension on Osir's face made it obvious the custom wasn't in use on this part of the plateau.
With a last kiss to Sam and a quick hug, Dean watched his friends being accompanied by burly guards to the entrance of the mine, a deep shaft to the bottom of which they were taken thanks to a simple cable and a pulley. Dean didn't feel himself breathe freely again until they were all down safely, ready to go to work.
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The job was terrible, excruciating, back-breaking. Sam thought all the sports he had played, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, could never have prepared him for such a mindless and repetitive task. At the end of every shift, he dropped next to his friends for as long as the guards let them sleep, dreamless nights that hardly restored his strength. He could see the toll the brutal work was taking on his friends, especially the women who were pushed to obtain the same results as the men but just couldn't deliver, however tough and strong-willed they might be, for a task where muscle power was key.
He had tried to get to know the other workers, especially the English-speaking ones, vaguely thinking that maybe starting some sort of union down there would make the tunnel supervisors more accommodating, should all miners present a united front against too much work. But the men were wary at best of the newcomers, if not downright aggressive.
Their first encounter was with a man named Morrison and it wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy : he simply pushed Sam out of his way and down to the floor as he found him working to extract what seemed to be a good vein.
"Filthy robber, get your own damn place !"
The guards didn't move to break up the scuffle, didn't even try to make it look like they had seen anything. Sam watched the miner perplexedly as he stood back up.
"What do you mean ?" he asked.
"This place is mine, and the ore in there too. Go find your own vein."
Sam raised his hands to show he didn't mean harm.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."
Alerted by this misunderstanding, the man kept a tight vigil on Sam and his friends, ready to defend his territory at the first sign of a toe walking over some invisible but just as real to him frontier the miner had traced in his mind and refused to budge on. Sam tried to ignore him but he found it was quite difficult to forget about someone constantly watching your every move. Jenn tried to lighten the situation by joking that Sam had gained an admirer and Dean wouldn't like it, but the thought of his brother just made him more miserable. Sure, he got to see him every three or four days, but Sam was so exhausted that these furloughs of sort were spent mostly sleeping and eating. For Dean's sake, who hated so much remaining topside, Sam also took care of shutting up his guilty conscience at being allowed some reprieve when the others weren't.
Morrison was crazy, no doubt about it, but not really dangerous ; a yappy dog rather than a guard one. The same couldn't be said of every guy working the mine. Especially the ones who couldn't deal with the proximity of two beautiful women who were just as unapproachable as Queen Victoria.
Not that some of them wouldn't try anyway. Their group was small, and the four of them who weren't targeted by the lust of their fellow miners had had to step more than once between Jenn or Meg and a potential aggressor.
One guy was obviously at it again as Sam returned one day from a restful night spent in Dean's arms. Sam recognized him immediately as Martin, a lunatic they all avoided. The man had managed to corner both girls, menacing them with his pick.
"You leave them alone !" Sam ordered, puffing up his chest to appear more threatening.
"Yeah ? And why would I do that ?" Martin asked with a nasty smile, showing off the bulge in his trousers when he turned away from Jenn and Meg.
The women had the good sense to use the opportunity to leave the trap they had been pushed into, a jagged cell breached by the men in the cave's walls and then abandoned when it showed no good vein.
"You propositioning me instead, Sammy ?" Martin asked. "Offering me your tight little ass in lieu of their cunts ?"
Sam blushed, feeling his face burn and hoping the bad lighting would hide most of it.
"As if !" he answered with lots of fake bravado as he remembered the way the man had insistently looked at him more than once while he was washing himself. "I have someone far better waiting for me, I won't sully myself with you."
"Ah, don't be like that, sweet cheeks, you have no idea how good I could make you feel."
Before he could respond, Sam felt himself pushed aside by Bobby.
"And what about me, sweet cheeks," the older man offered, more gruff than ever, "would you care to compare techniques ?"
With a grimace of disgust and a look of fear in the direction of the guards, back from their morning meal at the same time as the professor, Martin turned his back on them and returned to his previous place of work. Sam sighed with relief, even knowing they would all have to be wary of him in the future. But Sam didn't feel very confident about their ability to keep every one of them safe in case someone really tried to harm them. They did keep vigilant, but they couldn't remain watchful every minute of every day, if only because exhaustion hit hard every night, making them incapable of staying alert at all times.
Four days later, a brawl broke out as Martin tried again to get frisky with Ashley, the only other woman down there - that they knew of in this part of the mine, at the very least - but the move didn't please her boyfriend Roy. One of the few people to have a vague idea about the way they had ended up there, the man maintained they had been abducted during a hunt in Bolivia. He and Ashley were the only real allies they had made so far, necessity pushing them together with the tried and true mentality of "the enemy of my enemy is probably my friend."
Once again, Bobby got in the way. Sam saw the hatred directed at him by Martin and did his best to redirect the man's attention to himself this time.
"Everybody, back to work !" the guards bellowed, generously distributing smacks and hits with their heavy wooden sticks to separate the fighters.
They worked under tight supervision for more than an hour, then most of the guards returned to their previous patrolling positions, leaving only one of them behind to provide control in this section. As soon as the man disappeared into another tunnel, Martin left his working place. Hidden by the noise of the rock continuously beaten, he crept towards Bobby and raised his pick.
His shadow against the wall alerted Bobby to the danger. Older he may be, but he turned swiftly and caught the pick midair. They fought for its possession for as long as needed for the other miners to come to Bobby's rescue, separating the two men.
The guard came back running and swearing like the sailor he might have been before he ended up in this godforsaken place. For a moment, Sam imagined his eyes were all black, but surely the bad lighting explained this illusion.
"Get back, all of you bastards ! Get back !"
They did, and Martin seized the opportunity. He threw his pick sideways and got Bobby right in the thigh.
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Continue to The lost daughter part 2