What Is Twisted Cannot Be Straightened (2/4)
Continued from Part 1
Dean is still sifting through information when the door opens, and Jimmy freezes in the doorway. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Dean takes a deep breath. “Maybe you should leave.”
Jimmy closes the door behind him. “I have to change.”
“Okay,” Dean mumbles, thinking that maybe he should be the one to leave, but not wanting to admit his fear. “Yeah, of course.”
The silence that falls between them is more uncomfortable than it’s been in a long time. Generally speaking, he and Jimmy are good together, whether they’re talking or not.
“I have to say something to you,” Jimmy says, turning to face Dean, his tie off and his shirt half unbuttoned. “I love you.”
Dean stiffens. “Don’t-” he chokes out.
“Don’t tell me that,” Jimmy responds furiously. “I love you. Most days, you’re the only reason I get out of bed. If you hadn’t come when I called, I would have hung myself in my motel room. You were my last chance.”
The naked devotion on Jimmy’s earnest face, scares Dean stupid. Whatever Dean had expected Jimmy to say while Dean’s under the curse-this isn’t it.
He’s never been the subject of this kind of love before. Dean has always known that his dad and Sam could get by just fine without him-or at least, he thought they could. He’s never met anyone who’s made him the center of his world.
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Jimmy says, when Dean doesn’t respond. “And I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I need you to know that even if I could go back and change things-I wouldn’t.”
Dean wants to protest that Jimmy doesn’t mean it-that he can’t mean it when not saying yes would mean Jimmy would have that all-American dream, complete with a beautiful wife, a great kid, and a white picket fence.
But Jimmy can’t lie to Dean right now; he can’t even shade the truth. And it just figures that Jimmy would see this as an opportunity to share his feelings, rather a reason to avoid Dean for as long as it takes for them to figure this thing out.
Dean swallows, then asks roughly. “You got anything else?”
“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Jimmy admits. “I’m a burden. And now that Sam is back, I keep waiting for you to figure that out, because I’m not him, and I can never be him, and you two are so twisted up in each other, I don’t see how I can stay on with him around.”
Now is the time for Dean to reassure him, to tell Jimmy that he feels the same way, even if he can’t say the words. He’s told Jimmy that they’re partners, sure, but Jimmy’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And maybe Jimmy has reason, Dean thinks. Because Sam isn’t really Sam right now, and if they can figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it, Dean will have his brother back. And if Dean can get his brother back, what need does he have for another partner?
Even though Dean needs Jimmy in ways he can’t quite explain.
Dean can’t find the words, though. They’re stuck in his throat, and Jimmy’s open expression shuts down, and he backs away. “I’ll come out when you’re gone,” Jimmy says, and disappears into the bathroom.
Dean stares down at the thin, blue carpet with its myriad stains, and up at the bedspread-blue and gold, stretched across the king-sized bed, because neither of them likes sleeping alone these days. For a moment, Dean toys with the idea of following Jimmy into the bathroom as he had months ago, telling Jimmy not to be stupid and kissing him silent.
But Dean doesn’t think he can handle any more truth right now, and so he leaves.
~~~~~
The last thing Dean wants to do is deal with more people while he’s under this curse, and he knows that Sam is on the case. Considering that Sam is some badass hunter now, Dean figures he can handle it.
He picks up a bottle of Jack at the liquor store, tossing down a twenty and a five without waiting for the change to avoid more uncomfortable confessions from the young man behind the counter. He drives out of town and finds a back road where he can park and drink undisturbed.
Although Dean half-expects Jimmy to call, the phone stays silent through the afternoon and evening. He finishes off the bottle around midnight, finally crawling into the backseat to sleep it off.
When he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, and his head is pounding. There are no messages on his phone, so Dean figures Sam and Jimmy are in good shape. Given Sam’s recent attitude, Dean doubts his brother has even noticed that he’s absent, and Jimmy probably wants the space.
Dean starts to worry when he gets back to the motel room only to find it empty, with no message from Jimmy. He tries calling Sam, since that seems like the safest option, but there’s no answer. When he sucks it up and calls Jimmy, it goes straight to voice mail.
“Fuck,” Dean curses. He never should have left. He should have just dealt with whatever truth Jimmy wanted to dish out.
He rubs his eyes and considers his options, but there aren’t many. He’d track Jimmy by the GPS in his phone, but if it’s going straight to voice mail, Jimmy’s phone is either turned off or too badly damaged for him to answer, and the GPS won’t work in either case.
And Dean has no idea where to start looking. He calls Bobby on the off chance he’s heard from Jimmy or Sam. As soon as Bobby picks up, Dean says, “Just tell me yes or no-have you heard from Jimmy or Sam in the last twelve hours?”
“No, but-”
“Thanks, Bobby. I’ll call you when this is over.” Dean hangs up before Bobby can tell him something else Dean doesn’t want to know.
He’s about ready to start climbing the walls when Jimmy finally calls. Dean picks up on the first ring, as soon as he sees Jimmy’s name on the screen. “Where the hell are you?” he demands.
“I need you to come,” Jimmy replies, sounding tired. “I’m with Sam, but he’s in no shape to move under his own power.”
Dean frowns, and repeats, “You’re with Sam?”
“Don’t,” Jimmy says. “Just get here.”
“Text me the address,” Dean replies. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He pauses, then asks, “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Dean. Just come.” Jimmy hangs up on him, and Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing that he’s going to have some damage control to do on this one.
The text message comes through immediately, and Dean races over to the address, which is a swanky, modern house that doesn’t look as though it’s been lived in. Dean is a little put off by all the cats he sees when he enters, but he calls out, “Jimmy? Sam?”
“Downstairs,” Jimmy calls.
Dean takes the stairs two at a time and is relieved to see Jimmy in one piece, although he has a split lip. “Hey, what happened?”
“Sam and I decided to work together,” Jimmy replies briefly. “Veritas is dead, but she said Sam wasn’t human, because he could lie to her, so I knocked him out as soon as we killed her.”
Dean has no idea who “Veritas” is, but his immediate concern is for Jimmy. Once Dean knows he’s in one piece, Dean looks around and spots a woman’s body on the floor, although her face doesn’t look entirely human. Sam lies nearby, unconscious, a thin trickle of blood running down his temple.
“Well, if we’re going to find out what’s wrong with him, we’d better tie him up,” Dean says.
“And how are we going to get that information?” Jimmy asks wearily.
“We’re going to call Cas.” Dean looks around for something to secure Sam with, and finding nothing, he pulls off his belt and secures Sam’s hands behind his back. “Even if I have to do the binding ritual.”
Jimmy has apparently clocked Sam but good, because Sam doesn’t even stir as they haul his ass to the car, or when they shove him into the backseat. Dean’s not sure what he’s supposed to say, but he knows he needs to breach the sullen silence that hangs between them.
“I’m not good at this,” Dean admits, blurting out the words.
Jimmy leans his forehead against the window. “It’s fine, Dean.”
Dean can’t help but spit out, “Look, what you said-about not changing anything? I can’t say that, because I’ve fucked up way too many things, but I wouldn’t change this.” He motions between them, unable to define “this” any other way.
The corner of Jimmy’s mouth twitches upward. “Wow. You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Dean replies, but there’s no heat to the words, and he’s smiling now, too. “We okay?”
Jimmy nods. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s-it’s not like I didn’t know. You just told me I shouldn’t mention that conversation again.”
Dean blinks and realizes that Jimmy had heard what Dean had said while Jimmy had lain nearly comatose after healing Dean after Dean had nearly been turned. “Okay. So, Sam?”
“He figured out what happened,” Jimmy says as Dean pulls up in front of their motel. “And I didn’t feel inclined to sit around and wait for you to come back, so I tagged along.”
Dean sighs. “That was stupid. Sam could have gotten you killed.”
Jimmy shrugs. “And maybe I could have saved his life.” Their conversation is momentarily interrupted while they haul Sam into the motel room and drop him unceremoniously on the bed. “Anyway, Veritas wanted us to tell her the truth. I couldn’t stop talking, and Sam-he lied to her. She said he wasn’t human. Sam and I got free, we killed her, and I knocked him out. You know the rest.”
Dean stares at Jimmy, a little in awe. He hadn’t thought Jimmy, of all people, would be able to get the drop on his gigantic brother. “Dude.”
Jimmy shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe you should try calling Castiel first, before you do the binding ritual.”
Dean knows that this is mostly his plan, but he still isn’t sure he trusts Cas. And from what he’s heard, Cas is kind of pissed at him, too.
Still, Jimmy has a point, and it’s possible that Cas will come willingly if Dean asks, even if that means Dean will owe him-or is it her now?-a favor in the future.
“All right,” Dean says, and looks up at the water-stained ceiling. “Castiel, this is me praying. We need your help to figure out what exactly Sam is.”
Jimmy clears his throat.
“What?”
“You could say please.”
Dean rolls his eyes but adds, “Please.” There’s nothing, and Dean looks at Jimmy. “See? Maybe you should ask. I think he’s still pissed at me.”
Jimmy grimaces and mutters something that sounds a hell of a lot like, “The things I do for love,” although Dean can’t be sure. He figures that if Jimmy can joke about it, they’re probably okay.
“Castiel,” Jimmy calls. “I think you owe it to me to show up and at least take a look at Sam.”
Dean notices that Jimmy does not say please, but maybe that’s to be expected, given what Cas has put him through.
There’s the sound like the faint rustle of wings, and then-
Dean knows that it’s Castiel, because there’s no one else it can be, unless some other angel has answered the summons. Maybe it’s a human thing, though, because what Dean sees is a middle-aged woman with graying hair and deep lines on her face, wearing a dress that’s probably her Sunday best-he doesn’t see Cas, even though her eyes are the same deep blue as Jimmy’s.
“What do you want, Dean?” The words are spoken in a pleasant, husky voice, as though she’s smoked a few too many cigarettes over the years, but the tone, the inflection, is all Castiel.
Not for the first time, Dean wonders how much the vessel influences the angel-if at all. How much of the Castiel he’d known had been because Cas had been wearing Jimmy, and what does it mean for his relationship with Castiel? Can he even call Castiel his friend these days?
Because Jimmy is Dean’s partner, and Cas had been Dean’s friend, but he can’t reconcile those two facts with the face of the woman Castiel is wearing.
“I need to know what’s wrong with Sam,” Dean replies. “Veritas, the goddess-”
Castiel cuts him off. “I know who Veritas is.” And now she-he?-sounds a lot like one of his fourth grade teachers, the one who hadn’t been charmed by his grin.
“Sam was able to lie to her,” Jimmy inserts. “She said he wasn’t human.”
Castiel frowns, her thick, dark brows drawing together. “I see. That is interesting.” She glances at Sam, who is still unconscious on the bed. “What did you hit him with?”
“A metal tray,” Jimmy replies without a trace of apology. “So, do you know what’s wrong with him?”
Castiel still appears thoughtful. “Is there anything else that’s odd about his behavior?”
“He doesn’t sleep,” Jimmy inserts.
That’s news to Dean, and he asks, “How do you know?”
“It came up while we were watching news footage,” Jimmy replies absently. “And he didn’t care that Dean got turned by the vampire,” he adds, addressing it to Cas.
Castiel nods, as though this has given her an idea, and she says, “This is going to hurt. You might want to gag him.”
Dean looks at Jimmy, who shrugs to show he doesn’t care. “What are you going to do?” Dean asks.
“I’m going to look for a soul. It won’t cause any permanent damage,” Castiel says with absolutely no inflection.
“Maybe you should wake him up first,” Dean suggests. “It might be a good idea for Sam to know we’re not killing him when he comes to.”
Castiel shrugs and touches Sam on the forehead with two fingers. Jimmy takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall, well out of Sam’s line-of-sight.
Sam’s eyes snap open, and he starts squirming immediately. “What? Dean-what happened?”
“Cas is going to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Dean replies, figuring that the simplest-and most vague-explanation would be best under the circumstances.
Sam’s eyes dart to Castiel’s new vessel, and Dean can see that Sam recognizes her where he hadn’t. “Cas?”
“Hold still,” she cautions. “This may be unpleasant.”
Castiel takes off Sam’s belt, folds it in half, and shoves it in Sam’s mouth before he can protest.
Dean winces and has to look away as Castiel thrusts her hand inside Sam’s chest, although Dean can still hear Sam’s muffled screams. He might have tried to stop Castiel at that point, but he remembers having to do mouth-to-mouth on Jimmy, and how many bags of blood they’d had to pump back into him.
The truth is, Dean wants his brother back. He wants to be able to trust Sam to watch his back and Jimmy’s, and he can’t. Anything that brings Dean closer to an answer, he’ll take, as long as it doesn’t do long-term damage.
Finally, after long seconds, Castiel withdraws her hand and removes the belt from Sam’s mouth. “He doesn’t have a soul,” is the verdict.
“What does that mean?” Dean demands. “Where is it?”
“It’s probably still down in the cage with Lucifer and Michael,” Castiel replies. “Whatever or whoever brought him back left his soul behind.”
Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so what does that mean?”
Castiel shrugs. “The soul is what makes a person human, it’s the seat of the conscience. It’s complicated.”
“Can’t you get it back?” Dean asks desperately.
Castiel shakes her head. “No. It’s in the cage, Dean. And even if I could bring back Sam’s soul, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. It’s has been alone with Michael and Lucifer for a year. Whatever is left of it-it’s probably not even recognizable as your brother anymore.”
Castiel straightens. “I have to go. I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
And then Castiel is gone, and even though Dean now has more answers, he’s still stuck in the same place.
“Untie me, Dean,” Sam says, his voice a little hoarse. It appears as though he’s recovered from Castiel’s rummaging around. “Please. I promise I won’t hurt you or Jimmy.”
Dean doesn’t want to untie Sam, but he knows he can’t keep Sam tied up forever, and even without a soul, Sam still wears his brother’s face. He may not be able to trust Sam, but he can’t kill him, and they’re not in a position to keep Sam a prisoner.
Sam rubs his wrists and sits up, glancing at Jimmy. “You got me good.”
Jimmy smiles thinly. “I wasn’t going to take any chances.”
Dean notices that Jimmy doesn’t apologize, and he’s beginning to wonder if Jimmy has turned some kind of corner, because he’s been a little scary recently.
Sam nods, and Dean can read a grudging sort of respect in his eyes. “So, what now?” Sam asks.
Dean rubs his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess we find a way to get your soul back. I should call Bobby and let him know I found you guys anyway. Maybe he’ll have some idea for how to get your soul out of the cage.”
“What if I don’t want it back?” Sam challenges. “You heard Cas.”
Dean frowns. “I came out of Hell okay, didn’t I?” Sam opens his mouth, probably to argue that Dean definitely did not come out “okay,” but Dean barrels forward. “You can’t keep going without your soul, Sam. You’re going to get someone killed, and you won’t care.”
Something flickers in Sam’s eyes, but Dean can’t quite put his finger on what it is-and that’s the real problem. Dean can usually read Sam like a book, but these days Sam is inscrutable. “All right, Dean,” Sam says, in an almost patronizing tone. “We’ll try to get my soul back.”
Dean considers their options. He doesn’t want to keep Sam with them, but he’s not prepared to let Sam go out on his own either, not when Sam doesn’t have any sort of moral compass. He’s between a rock and a hard place.
There’s only one solution Dean can see. “Are you going to meet up with Samuel again?” he asks.
Sam shrugs. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Maybe you should,” Dean suggests. “I don’t think you should be hunting on your own.”
“And you don’t want me with you,” Sam replies.
Dean shrugs uncomfortably. The harsh truth is that Dean doesn’t think he can keep an eye on Sam and watch Jimmy’s back and make sure Jimmy doesn’t get himself killed trying to heal someone who’s too far gone.
Of course, he’s not sure Samuel can be trusted to keep Sam on a short leash either, but there are no good choices here.
“Call us if Samuel can’t go on a hunt with you,” Dean directs. “Please, Sam.”
Sam shrugs. “Sure, Dean.”
And then Sam is gone, leaving him alone with Jimmy.
“You should call Bobby,” Jimmy says.
Dean opens his mouth to argue, but he knows Jimmy is right. He calls Bobby and tells him the news-that he’s found Jimmy and Sam, and that Sam apparently doesn’t have a soul. “We’re going to look around for another case,” Dean tells him. “We’ll call as soon as we can.”
“What about Sam?” Bobby asks.
“What about him?” Dean counters wearily. “He’ll call if he needs us, or we’ll call if we need him. Hopefully, Samuel will keep him from doing something stupid.”
“Don’t you do anything stupid,” Bobby warns him.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, I’ll try.”
“Good. I know that Jimmy has a good head on his shoulders,” Bobby replies, and hangs up before Dean can formulate a decent comeback.
Dean rolls his eyes, and then turns to Jimmy, who’s staring out the window with his arms crossed over his chest. Dean doesn’t let himself study Jimmy often, but he does so now-the stubborn, stubbled chin, the deep-set eyes, and the lines of pain around his mouth.
“How’s the pain?” Dean asks, realizing that it’s been awhile since he’s asked.
“About a three,” Jimmy replies. “Not too bad.”
Dean isn’t sure he believes Jimmy, but he doesn’t argue. “I notice you didn’t heal Sam.”
“Since I was the one to cause the injury, what would be the point?” Jimmy asks with a smile.
Dean smiles. “Yeah, I guess. Jimmy-” He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say-that Jimmy is important to him, that Jimmy’s keeping him sane in the midst of this madness with Sam.
There aren’t words, though, and so Dean settles for kissing Jimmy, putting his hands on either side of Jimmy’s face, and pushing his tongue inside Jimmy’s mouth.
Jimmy’s mouth opens under his, and he tucks his hands in Dean’s back pockets, pulling their hips flush.
When Dean finally pulls back, he’s a bit breathless, and Jimmy’s breathing hard, too. Dean strokes Jimmy’s cheekbones with his thumbs and raises his eyebrows.
Jimmy smiles, and says, “Okay.”
And it is, at least for that moment.
Part 3
Dean is still sifting through information when the door opens, and Jimmy freezes in the doorway. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Dean takes a deep breath. “Maybe you should leave.”
Jimmy closes the door behind him. “I have to change.”
“Okay,” Dean mumbles, thinking that maybe he should be the one to leave, but not wanting to admit his fear. “Yeah, of course.”
The silence that falls between them is more uncomfortable than it’s been in a long time. Generally speaking, he and Jimmy are good together, whether they’re talking or not.
“I have to say something to you,” Jimmy says, turning to face Dean, his tie off and his shirt half unbuttoned. “I love you.”
Dean stiffens. “Don’t-” he chokes out.
“Don’t tell me that,” Jimmy responds furiously. “I love you. Most days, you’re the only reason I get out of bed. If you hadn’t come when I called, I would have hung myself in my motel room. You were my last chance.”
The naked devotion on Jimmy’s earnest face, scares Dean stupid. Whatever Dean had expected Jimmy to say while Dean’s under the curse-this isn’t it.
He’s never been the subject of this kind of love before. Dean has always known that his dad and Sam could get by just fine without him-or at least, he thought they could. He’s never met anyone who’s made him the center of his world.
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Jimmy says, when Dean doesn’t respond. “And I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I need you to know that even if I could go back and change things-I wouldn’t.”
Dean wants to protest that Jimmy doesn’t mean it-that he can’t mean it when not saying yes would mean Jimmy would have that all-American dream, complete with a beautiful wife, a great kid, and a white picket fence.
But Jimmy can’t lie to Dean right now; he can’t even shade the truth. And it just figures that Jimmy would see this as an opportunity to share his feelings, rather a reason to avoid Dean for as long as it takes for them to figure this thing out.
Dean swallows, then asks roughly. “You got anything else?”
“I don’t know why you put up with me,” Jimmy admits. “I’m a burden. And now that Sam is back, I keep waiting for you to figure that out, because I’m not him, and I can never be him, and you two are so twisted up in each other, I don’t see how I can stay on with him around.”
Now is the time for Dean to reassure him, to tell Jimmy that he feels the same way, even if he can’t say the words. He’s told Jimmy that they’re partners, sure, but Jimmy’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And maybe Jimmy has reason, Dean thinks. Because Sam isn’t really Sam right now, and if they can figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it, Dean will have his brother back. And if Dean can get his brother back, what need does he have for another partner?
Even though Dean needs Jimmy in ways he can’t quite explain.
Dean can’t find the words, though. They’re stuck in his throat, and Jimmy’s open expression shuts down, and he backs away. “I’ll come out when you’re gone,” Jimmy says, and disappears into the bathroom.
Dean stares down at the thin, blue carpet with its myriad stains, and up at the bedspread-blue and gold, stretched across the king-sized bed, because neither of them likes sleeping alone these days. For a moment, Dean toys with the idea of following Jimmy into the bathroom as he had months ago, telling Jimmy not to be stupid and kissing him silent.
But Dean doesn’t think he can handle any more truth right now, and so he leaves.
~~~~~
The last thing Dean wants to do is deal with more people while he’s under this curse, and he knows that Sam is on the case. Considering that Sam is some badass hunter now, Dean figures he can handle it.
He picks up a bottle of Jack at the liquor store, tossing down a twenty and a five without waiting for the change to avoid more uncomfortable confessions from the young man behind the counter. He drives out of town and finds a back road where he can park and drink undisturbed.
Although Dean half-expects Jimmy to call, the phone stays silent through the afternoon and evening. He finishes off the bottle around midnight, finally crawling into the backseat to sleep it off.
When he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, and his head is pounding. There are no messages on his phone, so Dean figures Sam and Jimmy are in good shape. Given Sam’s recent attitude, Dean doubts his brother has even noticed that he’s absent, and Jimmy probably wants the space.
Dean starts to worry when he gets back to the motel room only to find it empty, with no message from Jimmy. He tries calling Sam, since that seems like the safest option, but there’s no answer. When he sucks it up and calls Jimmy, it goes straight to voice mail.
“Fuck,” Dean curses. He never should have left. He should have just dealt with whatever truth Jimmy wanted to dish out.
He rubs his eyes and considers his options, but there aren’t many. He’d track Jimmy by the GPS in his phone, but if it’s going straight to voice mail, Jimmy’s phone is either turned off or too badly damaged for him to answer, and the GPS won’t work in either case.
And Dean has no idea where to start looking. He calls Bobby on the off chance he’s heard from Jimmy or Sam. As soon as Bobby picks up, Dean says, “Just tell me yes or no-have you heard from Jimmy or Sam in the last twelve hours?”
“No, but-”
“Thanks, Bobby. I’ll call you when this is over.” Dean hangs up before Bobby can tell him something else Dean doesn’t want to know.
He’s about ready to start climbing the walls when Jimmy finally calls. Dean picks up on the first ring, as soon as he sees Jimmy’s name on the screen. “Where the hell are you?” he demands.
“I need you to come,” Jimmy replies, sounding tired. “I’m with Sam, but he’s in no shape to move under his own power.”
Dean frowns, and repeats, “You’re with Sam?”
“Don’t,” Jimmy says. “Just get here.”
“Text me the address,” Dean replies. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He pauses, then asks, “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Dean. Just come.” Jimmy hangs up on him, and Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing that he’s going to have some damage control to do on this one.
The text message comes through immediately, and Dean races over to the address, which is a swanky, modern house that doesn’t look as though it’s been lived in. Dean is a little put off by all the cats he sees when he enters, but he calls out, “Jimmy? Sam?”
“Downstairs,” Jimmy calls.
Dean takes the stairs two at a time and is relieved to see Jimmy in one piece, although he has a split lip. “Hey, what happened?”
“Sam and I decided to work together,” Jimmy replies briefly. “Veritas is dead, but she said Sam wasn’t human, because he could lie to her, so I knocked him out as soon as we killed her.”
Dean has no idea who “Veritas” is, but his immediate concern is for Jimmy. Once Dean knows he’s in one piece, Dean looks around and spots a woman’s body on the floor, although her face doesn’t look entirely human. Sam lies nearby, unconscious, a thin trickle of blood running down his temple.
“Well, if we’re going to find out what’s wrong with him, we’d better tie him up,” Dean says.
“And how are we going to get that information?” Jimmy asks wearily.
“We’re going to call Cas.” Dean looks around for something to secure Sam with, and finding nothing, he pulls off his belt and secures Sam’s hands behind his back. “Even if I have to do the binding ritual.”
Jimmy has apparently clocked Sam but good, because Sam doesn’t even stir as they haul his ass to the car, or when they shove him into the backseat. Dean’s not sure what he’s supposed to say, but he knows he needs to breach the sullen silence that hangs between them.
“I’m not good at this,” Dean admits, blurting out the words.
Jimmy leans his forehead against the window. “It’s fine, Dean.”
Dean can’t help but spit out, “Look, what you said-about not changing anything? I can’t say that, because I’ve fucked up way too many things, but I wouldn’t change this.” He motions between them, unable to define “this” any other way.
The corner of Jimmy’s mouth twitches upward. “Wow. You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Dean replies, but there’s no heat to the words, and he’s smiling now, too. “We okay?”
Jimmy nods. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s-it’s not like I didn’t know. You just told me I shouldn’t mention that conversation again.”
Dean blinks and realizes that Jimmy had heard what Dean had said while Jimmy had lain nearly comatose after healing Dean after Dean had nearly been turned. “Okay. So, Sam?”
“He figured out what happened,” Jimmy says as Dean pulls up in front of their motel. “And I didn’t feel inclined to sit around and wait for you to come back, so I tagged along.”
Dean sighs. “That was stupid. Sam could have gotten you killed.”
Jimmy shrugs. “And maybe I could have saved his life.” Their conversation is momentarily interrupted while they haul Sam into the motel room and drop him unceremoniously on the bed. “Anyway, Veritas wanted us to tell her the truth. I couldn’t stop talking, and Sam-he lied to her. She said he wasn’t human. Sam and I got free, we killed her, and I knocked him out. You know the rest.”
Dean stares at Jimmy, a little in awe. He hadn’t thought Jimmy, of all people, would be able to get the drop on his gigantic brother. “Dude.”
Jimmy shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe you should try calling Castiel first, before you do the binding ritual.”
Dean knows that this is mostly his plan, but he still isn’t sure he trusts Cas. And from what he’s heard, Cas is kind of pissed at him, too.
Still, Jimmy has a point, and it’s possible that Cas will come willingly if Dean asks, even if that means Dean will owe him-or is it her now?-a favor in the future.
“All right,” Dean says, and looks up at the water-stained ceiling. “Castiel, this is me praying. We need your help to figure out what exactly Sam is.”
Jimmy clears his throat.
“What?”
“You could say please.”
Dean rolls his eyes but adds, “Please.” There’s nothing, and Dean looks at Jimmy. “See? Maybe you should ask. I think he’s still pissed at me.”
Jimmy grimaces and mutters something that sounds a hell of a lot like, “The things I do for love,” although Dean can’t be sure. He figures that if Jimmy can joke about it, they’re probably okay.
“Castiel,” Jimmy calls. “I think you owe it to me to show up and at least take a look at Sam.”
Dean notices that Jimmy does not say please, but maybe that’s to be expected, given what Cas has put him through.
There’s the sound like the faint rustle of wings, and then-
Dean knows that it’s Castiel, because there’s no one else it can be, unless some other angel has answered the summons. Maybe it’s a human thing, though, because what Dean sees is a middle-aged woman with graying hair and deep lines on her face, wearing a dress that’s probably her Sunday best-he doesn’t see Cas, even though her eyes are the same deep blue as Jimmy’s.
“What do you want, Dean?” The words are spoken in a pleasant, husky voice, as though she’s smoked a few too many cigarettes over the years, but the tone, the inflection, is all Castiel.
Not for the first time, Dean wonders how much the vessel influences the angel-if at all. How much of the Castiel he’d known had been because Cas had been wearing Jimmy, and what does it mean for his relationship with Castiel? Can he even call Castiel his friend these days?
Because Jimmy is Dean’s partner, and Cas had been Dean’s friend, but he can’t reconcile those two facts with the face of the woman Castiel is wearing.
“I need to know what’s wrong with Sam,” Dean replies. “Veritas, the goddess-”
Castiel cuts him off. “I know who Veritas is.” And now she-he?-sounds a lot like one of his fourth grade teachers, the one who hadn’t been charmed by his grin.
“Sam was able to lie to her,” Jimmy inserts. “She said he wasn’t human.”
Castiel frowns, her thick, dark brows drawing together. “I see. That is interesting.” She glances at Sam, who is still unconscious on the bed. “What did you hit him with?”
“A metal tray,” Jimmy replies without a trace of apology. “So, do you know what’s wrong with him?”
Castiel still appears thoughtful. “Is there anything else that’s odd about his behavior?”
“He doesn’t sleep,” Jimmy inserts.
That’s news to Dean, and he asks, “How do you know?”
“It came up while we were watching news footage,” Jimmy replies absently. “And he didn’t care that Dean got turned by the vampire,” he adds, addressing it to Cas.
Castiel nods, as though this has given her an idea, and she says, “This is going to hurt. You might want to gag him.”
Dean looks at Jimmy, who shrugs to show he doesn’t care. “What are you going to do?” Dean asks.
“I’m going to look for a soul. It won’t cause any permanent damage,” Castiel says with absolutely no inflection.
“Maybe you should wake him up first,” Dean suggests. “It might be a good idea for Sam to know we’re not killing him when he comes to.”
Castiel shrugs and touches Sam on the forehead with two fingers. Jimmy takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall, well out of Sam’s line-of-sight.
Sam’s eyes snap open, and he starts squirming immediately. “What? Dean-what happened?”
“Cas is going to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Dean replies, figuring that the simplest-and most vague-explanation would be best under the circumstances.
Sam’s eyes dart to Castiel’s new vessel, and Dean can see that Sam recognizes her where he hadn’t. “Cas?”
“Hold still,” she cautions. “This may be unpleasant.”
Castiel takes off Sam’s belt, folds it in half, and shoves it in Sam’s mouth before he can protest.
Dean winces and has to look away as Castiel thrusts her hand inside Sam’s chest, although Dean can still hear Sam’s muffled screams. He might have tried to stop Castiel at that point, but he remembers having to do mouth-to-mouth on Jimmy, and how many bags of blood they’d had to pump back into him.
The truth is, Dean wants his brother back. He wants to be able to trust Sam to watch his back and Jimmy’s, and he can’t. Anything that brings Dean closer to an answer, he’ll take, as long as it doesn’t do long-term damage.
Finally, after long seconds, Castiel withdraws her hand and removes the belt from Sam’s mouth. “He doesn’t have a soul,” is the verdict.
“What does that mean?” Dean demands. “Where is it?”
“It’s probably still down in the cage with Lucifer and Michael,” Castiel replies. “Whatever or whoever brought him back left his soul behind.”
Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so what does that mean?”
Castiel shrugs. “The soul is what makes a person human, it’s the seat of the conscience. It’s complicated.”
“Can’t you get it back?” Dean asks desperately.
Castiel shakes her head. “No. It’s in the cage, Dean. And even if I could bring back Sam’s soul, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. It’s has been alone with Michael and Lucifer for a year. Whatever is left of it-it’s probably not even recognizable as your brother anymore.”
Castiel straightens. “I have to go. I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
And then Castiel is gone, and even though Dean now has more answers, he’s still stuck in the same place.
“Untie me, Dean,” Sam says, his voice a little hoarse. It appears as though he’s recovered from Castiel’s rummaging around. “Please. I promise I won’t hurt you or Jimmy.”
Dean doesn’t want to untie Sam, but he knows he can’t keep Sam tied up forever, and even without a soul, Sam still wears his brother’s face. He may not be able to trust Sam, but he can’t kill him, and they’re not in a position to keep Sam a prisoner.
Sam rubs his wrists and sits up, glancing at Jimmy. “You got me good.”
Jimmy smiles thinly. “I wasn’t going to take any chances.”
Dean notices that Jimmy doesn’t apologize, and he’s beginning to wonder if Jimmy has turned some kind of corner, because he’s been a little scary recently.
Sam nods, and Dean can read a grudging sort of respect in his eyes. “So, what now?” Sam asks.
Dean rubs his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess we find a way to get your soul back. I should call Bobby and let him know I found you guys anyway. Maybe he’ll have some idea for how to get your soul out of the cage.”
“What if I don’t want it back?” Sam challenges. “You heard Cas.”
Dean frowns. “I came out of Hell okay, didn’t I?” Sam opens his mouth, probably to argue that Dean definitely did not come out “okay,” but Dean barrels forward. “You can’t keep going without your soul, Sam. You’re going to get someone killed, and you won’t care.”
Something flickers in Sam’s eyes, but Dean can’t quite put his finger on what it is-and that’s the real problem. Dean can usually read Sam like a book, but these days Sam is inscrutable. “All right, Dean,” Sam says, in an almost patronizing tone. “We’ll try to get my soul back.”
Dean considers their options. He doesn’t want to keep Sam with them, but he’s not prepared to let Sam go out on his own either, not when Sam doesn’t have any sort of moral compass. He’s between a rock and a hard place.
There’s only one solution Dean can see. “Are you going to meet up with Samuel again?” he asks.
Sam shrugs. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Maybe you should,” Dean suggests. “I don’t think you should be hunting on your own.”
“And you don’t want me with you,” Sam replies.
Dean shrugs uncomfortably. The harsh truth is that Dean doesn’t think he can keep an eye on Sam and watch Jimmy’s back and make sure Jimmy doesn’t get himself killed trying to heal someone who’s too far gone.
Of course, he’s not sure Samuel can be trusted to keep Sam on a short leash either, but there are no good choices here.
“Call us if Samuel can’t go on a hunt with you,” Dean directs. “Please, Sam.”
Sam shrugs. “Sure, Dean.”
And then Sam is gone, leaving him alone with Jimmy.
“You should call Bobby,” Jimmy says.
Dean opens his mouth to argue, but he knows Jimmy is right. He calls Bobby and tells him the news-that he’s found Jimmy and Sam, and that Sam apparently doesn’t have a soul. “We’re going to look around for another case,” Dean tells him. “We’ll call as soon as we can.”
“What about Sam?” Bobby asks.
“What about him?” Dean counters wearily. “He’ll call if he needs us, or we’ll call if we need him. Hopefully, Samuel will keep him from doing something stupid.”
“Don’t you do anything stupid,” Bobby warns him.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, I’ll try.”
“Good. I know that Jimmy has a good head on his shoulders,” Bobby replies, and hangs up before Dean can formulate a decent comeback.
Dean rolls his eyes, and then turns to Jimmy, who’s staring out the window with his arms crossed over his chest. Dean doesn’t let himself study Jimmy often, but he does so now-the stubborn, stubbled chin, the deep-set eyes, and the lines of pain around his mouth.
“How’s the pain?” Dean asks, realizing that it’s been awhile since he’s asked.
“About a three,” Jimmy replies. “Not too bad.”
Dean isn’t sure he believes Jimmy, but he doesn’t argue. “I notice you didn’t heal Sam.”
“Since I was the one to cause the injury, what would be the point?” Jimmy asks with a smile.
Dean smiles. “Yeah, I guess. Jimmy-” He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say-that Jimmy is important to him, that Jimmy’s keeping him sane in the midst of this madness with Sam.
There aren’t words, though, and so Dean settles for kissing Jimmy, putting his hands on either side of Jimmy’s face, and pushing his tongue inside Jimmy’s mouth.
Jimmy’s mouth opens under his, and he tucks his hands in Dean’s back pockets, pulling their hips flush.
When Dean finally pulls back, he’s a bit breathless, and Jimmy’s breathing hard, too. Dean strokes Jimmy’s cheekbones with his thumbs and raises his eyebrows.
Jimmy smiles, and says, “Okay.”
And it is, at least for that moment.
Part 3