Speaking for the Dead - Pt 7
Speaking for the Dead: Part Seven
Dean wasn't sure what was going on. One minute he'd been in the graveyard, unable to cut himself off from the dead he'd raised, and the next he was in the back of the Impala. Sam's worried face hovering above him.
Whatever had happened, at least he knew Sammy was alive. And since the car was moving, he could only assume that Ruby was too. Sage was missing from that picture and he tried to look around, except there was a tightening in his chest that forced his breath out of his lungs. His heart felt like it was burning, his lungs refused to draw in more air. He could feel the cold of his gift rising inside him and he couldn't force it back.
Sam's mouth was moving, Dean was pretty sure he was shouting, but he couldn't hear a damn thing his brother was saying.
A white rush came over him leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.
:::
"Pull over!"
"What's going on?"
"His heart's racing again."
"Fuck."
"He's freezing, Sam! Where the hell did you put the thermal blankets!?"
"The trunk!"
"De?"
"Fucking pull over!"
"I'm trying, dammit! It's not like I can just cut under a fucking eighteen wheeler!"
"De!"
"Just stop the fucking car!"
:::
They were there.
Dean could feel them moving around him. Or maybe it was the world that was moving under them and they were just standing stationary. He didn't really care which it was, because he could feel them there. Could feel the light weight of a little body stretched out next to him, soft hair tickling his chin.
"...seized twice already..."
The light weight on his chest moved.
"...get further away... Bobby... physical limit to his reach..."
Drawing in his next breath, Dean was hit by the smell of sunshine, fresh dirt, and grape juice under laid with mint and spice, wrapped up in leather and stale socks. Home.
"...bring him back... stubborn son of..."
Dean wanted to speak, but couldn't figure out how to get his body to cooperate. Couldn't even get his eyes to open. He couldn't really muster up enough of himself to really care either. So he let go.
Just for a little while. He was still so cold and so fucking tired.
"Don't leave, De." The light weight on his chest whispered.
:::
He was being manhandled around in a cramped little space.
Large, heavy arms wrapped around his chest, shifting him and pulling him up and back. A leg pressed against Dean's side and then his back was resting against a warm chest. A strong, heavy heart was beating steadily against his back. It was something to keep time by.
Sam dipped his head down and buried his face into Dean's shoulder. Dean could smell Sam then. He could smell gunpowder and wood smoke and sweet apples. He could almost taste the bitter salt of Sam's silent tears.
Dean wanted to reach out to him. He wanted to make those tears stop falling, because he wasn’t going anywhere. He was right there. He was just tired was all, still too cold inside. But Sam's warmth was thawing the freeze inside him and Dean could feel himself stretching underneath. He just couldn't break the surface.
Soon, Sammy. I'm still here. I won't be gone long. Just need to sleep a little.
:::
When Dean opened his eyes, Ruby's face hadn't exactly been the one he'd been hoping to see.
She had a spoon in one hand and a travel mug in the other. Dean could taste chicken broth on his tongue and he made a face at her.
They weren't in the car anymore, he noticed, seeing the faded paint on the walls for the first time. Blinking, Dean tried to look around and only managed to shift his head slightly on the lumpy pillow under him.
"Dean?" Ruby said. Her voice soft and guarded, but so fucking hopeful it made Dean's chest ache. He could only blink up at her, but that seemed to be more than enough because she'd dumped the spoon back into the travel mug and was shouting out for Sam, never taking her eyes off him.
"Sam! Sam, get in here! Dean's awake!"
Foot steps thundered up the stairs and down the short hall just before the door to the bedroom burst open. Sam filled the space easily on his own. But with Sage on one hip and the desperate hope radiating out of him, he nearly dominated the room when he strode in towards the bed.
"Dean," Sam breathed, dropping to his knees next to the bed.
Dean managed to roll his head enough to face his brother when he said, "Sammy." A weak smile tugged at his lips when Sam laughed through his tears, just before he fell back asleep.
:::
It took a few more days, but three and a half weeks after raising an entire grave yard and the surrounding area of its dead, Dean was back up on his feet.
They'd taken him to Bobby's place. They'd been there almost two weeks, not that Dean remembered arriving or anything. With the way Bobby kept trying to push food onto him, Dean was willing to bet he'd scared the older man at some point.
He'd probably scared all of them at some point while he'd been out of it. Because Sage had glued herself to his side, refusing to let him out of her sight. She'd taken to following him around the house and then around the yard when he'd gotten back on his feet. She'd lean over the cars Dean would pick to look at, walk under them and bring him the tools he asked for when he decided to work on one.
She was more quiet and serious than when he'd first taken her out of that basement. If it weren't for the way she'd attached herself to Bobby's side every time the man cooked or did something with the dogs, Dean would have been worried. As it was, she was reaching out more even if she wasn’t speaking as much.
Bobby just gave him cars to work on, and helped him get a few new parts for the Impala. Aside from trying to stuff him full of food, Bobby only hovered when Dean was using the heavier machinery in the actual garage. Which, Dean suspected had more to do with the fact Sage was always with him.
Ruby disappeared in the middle of the night three days after Dean had finally woken up and she hadn't really been back since. Dean knew she'd called from time to time because of the pinched look on Sam's face when he answered his phone. But aside from the calls every other day, Ruby was the only one actually giving him enough space to pull his shit together.
And he needed that.
He'd killed a man. He'd felt every moment of that attack, and still hadn't been able to pull himself away from it. He couldn't deny what he'd done. He’d never be able to pretend it hadn’t happened. And he didn't really want to either.
Dean didn't regret killing Clayton Reynolds.
What worried him and really frightened him, was how he'd done it.
Those spirits he'd raised had been mindless, empty. So tightly bound under his control that Dean hadn't even needed to think about what he wanted them to do before they'd done it. They'd been driven by his darkest, most base instinct to destroy and completely obliterate.
He looked up to see Sammy hovering in the background, worry and concern tightening his features. Dean didn't know how to tell his brother. Couldn't find the words to explain to him that Dean hadn't needed a proper blood sacrifice to raise that many shades.
He wasn't even sure where to begin to explain.
:::
Dean had been enjoying a rare moment of alone time when Ruby came back. Sam was out back somewhere and Sage was perched on the counter watching Bobby cook. Ruby pulled into the front yard in a beat up blue Jeep Dean was pretty sure she hadn't left with.
She came up the steps of the porch and dropped into the sagging porch swing next to Dean with a sigh. "I'm not sticking around," she told him by way of greeting. "I'm just here to smack your brother upside the head."
Looking over at her, Dean asked, "What did Sammy do to warrant a drive out here to deliver that smack personally?"
"He's being an ass," was all she said.
"Pretty sure he’s out back," Dean told her.
"In a minute," Ruby said tiredly.
Quiet stretched between them for a few moments. Long enough that Dean leaned back and went back to enjoying being on his own, or at least out of sight of the people who were trying to smother him with their mothering.
"You know you need to get your head out of your ass at some point, right?" Ruby asked, breaking the silence Dean had been enjoying.
Frowning he said, "Thought you were only here to hit my brother?"
"Consider it an added bonus," she told him, shrugging. "You got the short stick in the draw of luck, Dean, but you fucked up all on your own."
Sitting up straight, Dean demanded, "And how did I fuck up? I didn't ask for any of this, and I certainly didn't go looking for it."
"I told you that you were raising all those restless spirits on your own," Ruby pointed out. "Even warned you that while most of them would go back on their own once you were gone, some of them would be strong enough to sustain themselves without you."
"So what do you want me to do?" he asked angrily, pushing himself to his feet and turning to face the demon who was sprawled out on the porch swing. "If I go back to those places I can put some of them to rest, but I'm just going to end up raising a bunch more while I'm there."
Sitting up straight, Ruby snapped, "And Sam can't forever be trailing behind you cleaning up your messes, Dean. You're a Hunter! Your job is to kill evil creatures and put violence and restless spirits to rest! Not leave behind a bunch of confused and disoriented ghosts, most of which don't even remember dying in the first place!"
Dean stared at her with a scowl on his face, because he couldn't argue with that. She was right and it fucking pissed him off that he had to admit that. "Still didn't answer my question," he pointed out with a slight snarl to his words. Jesus, he was tired of people dancing around the issue like they thought he would break. "What do you expect me to do? I can't go anywhere without raising more ghosts. Fuck, I raise road kill every time I get in the car!"
Ruby sighed and Dean watched all the fight go out of her. "Learn, Dean. I want you to learn how to control your gift more than to just ignore the constant chattering in your head. Learn how to put a lid on raising spirits unintentionally."
Dean snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "And who am I supposed to go ask to teach me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Said it yourself, there's only ever been a handful of people like me in history and they're all dead. Can't exactly go asking to learn at their knee now can I?"
"Go talk to your brother," Ruby told him, pushing herself off the porch swing. "It's the reason I came all the way out here to try and knock him around. Sam found someone who could teach you control and traded who knows what to get a copy of a necromancer's journal for you."
:::
Sam had escaped out into the field behind Bobby's property, sitting half hidden by the tall grass. There hadn't been that many places to run to when they were kids and had gotten dumped on Bobby's door step so their Dad could go on a hunt in peace. The field out back had been one of those rare exceptions.
There was enough of a breeze that he didn't hear Dean's approach until his brother was only a few feet away from him. Sam looked up and watched Dean get closer before he dropped to the ground next to him.
"How'd you find me?" Sam asked, pulling a piece of grass up.
"You're a little taller than you were the last time you tried to hide out here," Dean informed him. "Saw your head above all the grass."
"Where's Sage?" Sam asked neutrally. The little girl had been nearly surgically attached to Dean's hip since he'd woken up. Sam understood her fear that Dean would leave her. It was the same reason Sam had found himself making excuses to be in the same space as his brother.
Dean laughed a little then. "She decided to start talking again," he said. Sam turned his head and raised an eyebrow in question. "Talked Bobby into teaching her how to cook."
Sam tossed his head back and laughed.
Bobby had known they were coming when Sam had called ahead, but the surprise on the older man's face when Sage had climbed out of the car had been priceless. It had actually been worth the soft hissing match they'd had after he'd explained where she'd come from and the fact Dean wanted to keep her. Sam hadn’t even realized he’d used the same arguments on Bobby as Dean had used on him to rationalize keeping her. It had taken a few more days before Sam realized he'd already accepted the fact Dean wasn't going to give her up and that Sam had begun to think of her as theirs.
He actually started looking into the curriculum they'd need to follow to home school the little girl. He still didn't think it was a good idea to keep on like they were, and he knew that eventually they were going to have to talk about settling down somewhere. But this time, Sam didn't think that conversation would end in the same kind of argument it had the last time.
He was drawn out of his thoughts when Dean hit him upside the head.
"Ow," Sam whined. "What was that for?"
Dean shook his head and held up his hands. "Don't really know," he answered. "But Ruby asked me to pass the message along."
That made Sam look away, back out into the field. The silence stretching awkwardly between them. If Ruby had driven all the way out to Bobby's place and asked Dean to pass along the hit, that meant that Dean knew what he'd been up to. Or at least, some of what he'd been up to.
"I could do it again," Dean finally said, breaking the silence.
Frowning, Sam turned back to him, asking, "Do what again?"
"Raise another grave yard," he told Sam. "I didn't... You were hurt. And I just... I lost control and I raised them. Most necromancers would have needed a blood sacrifice to do what I did, Sammy. Me, I just got pissed and scared and - "
Sam blinked, trying to process what Dean was telling him, or trying to tell him. Because Sam hadn't known that. He hadn't known that to be able to do what Dean had done, Dean should have needed an offering.
The dead belonged to Dean the same was the demons should have belonged to Sam. It was just the way things were. Sam had never thought to try thinking of how things should have been.
Leaning over, Sam bumped his shoulder against Dean's, trying to draw him back out. "Hey," Sam said in as reassuring a tone as he could manage. "I'd've done the same thing."
Dean ducked his head and picked at a thread working its way loose on the knee of his jeans. But he didn't respond, which Sam had sort of been expecting.
"Ruby tell you that I think I found someone who can help?" Sam asked instead of pushing the issue. They'd get a chance to hash it out soon or later. They always did.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, s'why she wanted to try knocking some sense into you." Sam caught him glancing his way before Dean asked, "So who'd you find?"
"A Daughter of the Grove," Sam told him. "She lives out in Colorado. Figured if I couldn't find another necromancer to help you, then I should look for someone who's abilities were just as ingrained and unpredictable as yours are."
Dean leaned into him and rested his forehead against Sam's upper arm. "Thanks, Sammy."
Sam turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head, breathed in his brother's sent and was just thankful he was still there. "No problem."
+++++
PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT ||
NOTES & THANKS
Dean wasn't sure what was going on. One minute he'd been in the graveyard, unable to cut himself off from the dead he'd raised, and the next he was in the back of the Impala. Sam's worried face hovering above him.
Whatever had happened, at least he knew Sammy was alive. And since the car was moving, he could only assume that Ruby was too. Sage was missing from that picture and he tried to look around, except there was a tightening in his chest that forced his breath out of his lungs. His heart felt like it was burning, his lungs refused to draw in more air. He could feel the cold of his gift rising inside him and he couldn't force it back.
Sam's mouth was moving, Dean was pretty sure he was shouting, but he couldn't hear a damn thing his brother was saying.
A white rush came over him leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.
:::
"Pull over!"
"What's going on?"
"His heart's racing again."
"Fuck."
"He's freezing, Sam! Where the hell did you put the thermal blankets!?"
"The trunk!"
"De?"
"Fucking pull over!"
"I'm trying, dammit! It's not like I can just cut under a fucking eighteen wheeler!"
"De!"
"Just stop the fucking car!"
:::
They were there.
Dean could feel them moving around him. Or maybe it was the world that was moving under them and they were just standing stationary. He didn't really care which it was, because he could feel them there. Could feel the light weight of a little body stretched out next to him, soft hair tickling his chin.
"...seized twice already..."
The light weight on his chest moved.
"...get further away... Bobby... physical limit to his reach..."
Drawing in his next breath, Dean was hit by the smell of sunshine, fresh dirt, and grape juice under laid with mint and spice, wrapped up in leather and stale socks. Home.
"...bring him back... stubborn son of..."
Dean wanted to speak, but couldn't figure out how to get his body to cooperate. Couldn't even get his eyes to open. He couldn't really muster up enough of himself to really care either. So he let go.
Just for a little while. He was still so cold and so fucking tired.
"Don't leave, De." The light weight on his chest whispered.
:::
He was being manhandled around in a cramped little space.
Large, heavy arms wrapped around his chest, shifting him and pulling him up and back. A leg pressed against Dean's side and then his back was resting against a warm chest. A strong, heavy heart was beating steadily against his back. It was something to keep time by.
Sam dipped his head down and buried his face into Dean's shoulder. Dean could smell Sam then. He could smell gunpowder and wood smoke and sweet apples. He could almost taste the bitter salt of Sam's silent tears.
Dean wanted to reach out to him. He wanted to make those tears stop falling, because he wasn’t going anywhere. He was right there. He was just tired was all, still too cold inside. But Sam's warmth was thawing the freeze inside him and Dean could feel himself stretching underneath. He just couldn't break the surface.
Soon, Sammy. I'm still here. I won't be gone long. Just need to sleep a little.
:::
When Dean opened his eyes, Ruby's face hadn't exactly been the one he'd been hoping to see.
She had a spoon in one hand and a travel mug in the other. Dean could taste chicken broth on his tongue and he made a face at her.
They weren't in the car anymore, he noticed, seeing the faded paint on the walls for the first time. Blinking, Dean tried to look around and only managed to shift his head slightly on the lumpy pillow under him.
"Dean?" Ruby said. Her voice soft and guarded, but so fucking hopeful it made Dean's chest ache. He could only blink up at her, but that seemed to be more than enough because she'd dumped the spoon back into the travel mug and was shouting out for Sam, never taking her eyes off him.
"Sam! Sam, get in here! Dean's awake!"
Foot steps thundered up the stairs and down the short hall just before the door to the bedroom burst open. Sam filled the space easily on his own. But with Sage on one hip and the desperate hope radiating out of him, he nearly dominated the room when he strode in towards the bed.
"Dean," Sam breathed, dropping to his knees next to the bed.
Dean managed to roll his head enough to face his brother when he said, "Sammy." A weak smile tugged at his lips when Sam laughed through his tears, just before he fell back asleep.
:::
It took a few more days, but three and a half weeks after raising an entire grave yard and the surrounding area of its dead, Dean was back up on his feet.
They'd taken him to Bobby's place. They'd been there almost two weeks, not that Dean remembered arriving or anything. With the way Bobby kept trying to push food onto him, Dean was willing to bet he'd scared the older man at some point.
He'd probably scared all of them at some point while he'd been out of it. Because Sage had glued herself to his side, refusing to let him out of her sight. She'd taken to following him around the house and then around the yard when he'd gotten back on his feet. She'd lean over the cars Dean would pick to look at, walk under them and bring him the tools he asked for when he decided to work on one.
She was more quiet and serious than when he'd first taken her out of that basement. If it weren't for the way she'd attached herself to Bobby's side every time the man cooked or did something with the dogs, Dean would have been worried. As it was, she was reaching out more even if she wasn’t speaking as much.
Bobby just gave him cars to work on, and helped him get a few new parts for the Impala. Aside from trying to stuff him full of food, Bobby only hovered when Dean was using the heavier machinery in the actual garage. Which, Dean suspected had more to do with the fact Sage was always with him.
Ruby disappeared in the middle of the night three days after Dean had finally woken up and she hadn't really been back since. Dean knew she'd called from time to time because of the pinched look on Sam's face when he answered his phone. But aside from the calls every other day, Ruby was the only one actually giving him enough space to pull his shit together.
And he needed that.
He'd killed a man. He'd felt every moment of that attack, and still hadn't been able to pull himself away from it. He couldn't deny what he'd done. He’d never be able to pretend it hadn’t happened. And he didn't really want to either.
Dean didn't regret killing Clayton Reynolds.
What worried him and really frightened him, was how he'd done it.
Those spirits he'd raised had been mindless, empty. So tightly bound under his control that Dean hadn't even needed to think about what he wanted them to do before they'd done it. They'd been driven by his darkest, most base instinct to destroy and completely obliterate.
He looked up to see Sammy hovering in the background, worry and concern tightening his features. Dean didn't know how to tell his brother. Couldn't find the words to explain to him that Dean hadn't needed a proper blood sacrifice to raise that many shades.
He wasn't even sure where to begin to explain.
:::
Dean had been enjoying a rare moment of alone time when Ruby came back. Sam was out back somewhere and Sage was perched on the counter watching Bobby cook. Ruby pulled into the front yard in a beat up blue Jeep Dean was pretty sure she hadn't left with.
She came up the steps of the porch and dropped into the sagging porch swing next to Dean with a sigh. "I'm not sticking around," she told him by way of greeting. "I'm just here to smack your brother upside the head."
Looking over at her, Dean asked, "What did Sammy do to warrant a drive out here to deliver that smack personally?"
"He's being an ass," was all she said.
"Pretty sure he’s out back," Dean told her.
"In a minute," Ruby said tiredly.
Quiet stretched between them for a few moments. Long enough that Dean leaned back and went back to enjoying being on his own, or at least out of sight of the people who were trying to smother him with their mothering.
"You know you need to get your head out of your ass at some point, right?" Ruby asked, breaking the silence Dean had been enjoying.
Frowning he said, "Thought you were only here to hit my brother?"
"Consider it an added bonus," she told him, shrugging. "You got the short stick in the draw of luck, Dean, but you fucked up all on your own."
Sitting up straight, Dean demanded, "And how did I fuck up? I didn't ask for any of this, and I certainly didn't go looking for it."
"I told you that you were raising all those restless spirits on your own," Ruby pointed out. "Even warned you that while most of them would go back on their own once you were gone, some of them would be strong enough to sustain themselves without you."
"So what do you want me to do?" he asked angrily, pushing himself to his feet and turning to face the demon who was sprawled out on the porch swing. "If I go back to those places I can put some of them to rest, but I'm just going to end up raising a bunch more while I'm there."
Sitting up straight, Ruby snapped, "And Sam can't forever be trailing behind you cleaning up your messes, Dean. You're a Hunter! Your job is to kill evil creatures and put violence and restless spirits to rest! Not leave behind a bunch of confused and disoriented ghosts, most of which don't even remember dying in the first place!"
Dean stared at her with a scowl on his face, because he couldn't argue with that. She was right and it fucking pissed him off that he had to admit that. "Still didn't answer my question," he pointed out with a slight snarl to his words. Jesus, he was tired of people dancing around the issue like they thought he would break. "What do you expect me to do? I can't go anywhere without raising more ghosts. Fuck, I raise road kill every time I get in the car!"
Ruby sighed and Dean watched all the fight go out of her. "Learn, Dean. I want you to learn how to control your gift more than to just ignore the constant chattering in your head. Learn how to put a lid on raising spirits unintentionally."
Dean snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "And who am I supposed to go ask to teach me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Said it yourself, there's only ever been a handful of people like me in history and they're all dead. Can't exactly go asking to learn at their knee now can I?"
"Go talk to your brother," Ruby told him, pushing herself off the porch swing. "It's the reason I came all the way out here to try and knock him around. Sam found someone who could teach you control and traded who knows what to get a copy of a necromancer's journal for you."
:::
Sam had escaped out into the field behind Bobby's property, sitting half hidden by the tall grass. There hadn't been that many places to run to when they were kids and had gotten dumped on Bobby's door step so their Dad could go on a hunt in peace. The field out back had been one of those rare exceptions.
There was enough of a breeze that he didn't hear Dean's approach until his brother was only a few feet away from him. Sam looked up and watched Dean get closer before he dropped to the ground next to him.
"How'd you find me?" Sam asked, pulling a piece of grass up.
"You're a little taller than you were the last time you tried to hide out here," Dean informed him. "Saw your head above all the grass."
"Where's Sage?" Sam asked neutrally. The little girl had been nearly surgically attached to Dean's hip since he'd woken up. Sam understood her fear that Dean would leave her. It was the same reason Sam had found himself making excuses to be in the same space as his brother.
Dean laughed a little then. "She decided to start talking again," he said. Sam turned his head and raised an eyebrow in question. "Talked Bobby into teaching her how to cook."
Sam tossed his head back and laughed.
Bobby had known they were coming when Sam had called ahead, but the surprise on the older man's face when Sage had climbed out of the car had been priceless. It had actually been worth the soft hissing match they'd had after he'd explained where she'd come from and the fact Dean wanted to keep her. Sam hadn’t even realized he’d used the same arguments on Bobby as Dean had used on him to rationalize keeping her. It had taken a few more days before Sam realized he'd already accepted the fact Dean wasn't going to give her up and that Sam had begun to think of her as theirs.
He actually started looking into the curriculum they'd need to follow to home school the little girl. He still didn't think it was a good idea to keep on like they were, and he knew that eventually they were going to have to talk about settling down somewhere. But this time, Sam didn't think that conversation would end in the same kind of argument it had the last time.
He was drawn out of his thoughts when Dean hit him upside the head.
"Ow," Sam whined. "What was that for?"
Dean shook his head and held up his hands. "Don't really know," he answered. "But Ruby asked me to pass the message along."
That made Sam look away, back out into the field. The silence stretching awkwardly between them. If Ruby had driven all the way out to Bobby's place and asked Dean to pass along the hit, that meant that Dean knew what he'd been up to. Or at least, some of what he'd been up to.
"I could do it again," Dean finally said, breaking the silence.
Frowning, Sam turned back to him, asking, "Do what again?"
"Raise another grave yard," he told Sam. "I didn't... You were hurt. And I just... I lost control and I raised them. Most necromancers would have needed a blood sacrifice to do what I did, Sammy. Me, I just got pissed and scared and - "
Sam blinked, trying to process what Dean was telling him, or trying to tell him. Because Sam hadn't known that. He hadn't known that to be able to do what Dean had done, Dean should have needed an offering.
The dead belonged to Dean the same was the demons should have belonged to Sam. It was just the way things were. Sam had never thought to try thinking of how things should have been.
Leaning over, Sam bumped his shoulder against Dean's, trying to draw him back out. "Hey," Sam said in as reassuring a tone as he could manage. "I'd've done the same thing."
Dean ducked his head and picked at a thread working its way loose on the knee of his jeans. But he didn't respond, which Sam had sort of been expecting.
"Ruby tell you that I think I found someone who can help?" Sam asked instead of pushing the issue. They'd get a chance to hash it out soon or later. They always did.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, s'why she wanted to try knocking some sense into you." Sam caught him glancing his way before Dean asked, "So who'd you find?"
"A Daughter of the Grove," Sam told him. "She lives out in Colorado. Figured if I couldn't find another necromancer to help you, then I should look for someone who's abilities were just as ingrained and unpredictable as yours are."
Dean leaned into him and rested his forehead against Sam's upper arm. "Thanks, Sammy."
Sam turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head, breathed in his brother's sent and was just thankful he was still there. "No problem."
+++++
PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT ||
NOTES & THANKS