SPN story: The Other End (What's Left of You That I Don't Have), part 2

[kassidy62]

part 1


*

Dean turned onto I-70 in the early evening. The clouds were staggered one after another on the horizon, flat and far-away, turning to gray in the lowering light. Only another hundred miles to go before he got to where Sam was. Sam, who apparently had spent the last twenty-some odd hours in the same spot in nowhere, Maryland.

Dean’s eyes felt grainy and hot, the coffee doing as much good as beating a dead horse by now.  He exited and pulled up in front of another brightly lit store, grabbing a pack of energy tablets. They always made him feel like shit after he crashed, but he hoped they’d do the trick for now.

He swallowed a couple and got back on the highway, watching the speedometer go back up to seventy-five. He blinked, yawning hard enough that his jaw cracked. The next time he looked Castiel was sitting in the passenger’s seat, suddenly just there in that unsettling way he had.

“Shit!” Dean swerved the car a little, then glared at Castiel.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Castiel sat back in the seat, as composed as ever. “You called, Dean?”

“I did yesterday,” Dean grumped.

Castiel spared him a brief glance, then looked out the passenger window again. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Sam’s in Maryland. I’m going after him.”

Cas’ brow wrinkled. “And how do you know that?”

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded his head toward Castiel. “When angel radar fails, there’s always technology, Cas.”

“It’s not something I have needed. Why are you going after Sam?”

Dean frowned and gunned the Chevy, passing a hybrid on the road. “You have to ask? He’s my brother. He needs me.”

“I was under the impression you were going after Lilith.”

“I am. Soon as I find Sam.”

“You’re in our service. You haven’t forgotten that.”

Dean glanced at Castiel. “Yeah, I get it, I’m on call. Well, nobody’s called.”

Cas spoke carefully. “What else can you hope to do for him, Dean? Whatever Sam’s doing, it’s by choice. You cannot save him from himself. Heaven and the angels have warned him.”

“You weren’t against helping when Sam was in the panic room. Nothing’s changed, Cas. What’s going on with you?”

Cas looked out the window, his blue eyes sorrowful. “He’s doing it to himself, Dean.”

“I heard that, yeah, but it’s not exactly true. He’s had a lot of help, a lot of pushing, I’m thinking. For one thing, who let him out of the panic room?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel said, leaning closer toward Dean as if that would make him see. “It’s bigger than that. It’s his destiny. How do you expect me or anyone to fight that for you?”

Dean wheeled the Impala over to a sudden stop at the side of the highway, kicking up dust and gravel. “You sorry son of a bitch. All that destiny crap, it’s just words, don’t you get that?  Your so-called brothers use them on you to make you do what they want, but what’s going on here is a gangbang. Somebody's helping Sam down that road, making him believe that destroying himself is the way to kill Lilith. The price to be paid, right, fine and dandy as long as it gets results. He's bought into it, hook line and sinker, but you listen to me, Cas-my brother's life is never an acceptable price. I’m going to save him, and then we’re going to stop this thing from happening. Together.”

Cas rubbed his forehead. “What’s the point of stopping any of it? Of saving people?"

Dean looked at him, bewildered. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I see nothing worth saving. Everywhere I look, I see only misery and guilt. Especially for you and Sam. Is this what you want? How could this be your choice?"

Dean pointed his finger at Cas. “It is my choice. I’ll take all of it, as long as I have the freedom to make my own decisions. And I’ll tell you what’s worth saving. Families. People who really care for each other, who know what it means to help each other, unlike your so-called angel family in heaven.” Dean pounded the steering wheel. “Why bother showing up at all if this is how you feel?”

“Because I’m confused. I don't know what I'm supposed to do,” Castiel confessed, looking down at his hands. “I was taken back to heaven, as you know. Being recalled is … unpleasant, to put it mildly. They tried to make me think differently, but even after everything they did to me, what they’re doing now feels …” Castiel shook his head. “very wrong. ” He took a deep breath. “They’re hurting your brother, Dean, draining him of his power. He’ll need blood. They’re starving him of it so he’ll take it from Lilith and kill her in the process.”

Dean stared at Cas. "The angels? Why?"

“Not the angels, but they know. They're doing nothing to stop it. It’s the final seal, Dean. Your brother will kill Lilith and rise as a king at Lucifer’s side.”

Dean gripped Castiel’s collar and shook him, shouting. “So you’re just now getting around to telling me you know all this? What else haven’t you told me, Cas?”

Castiel’s face went completely blank, as if preparing for Dean’s reaction. “I let Sam out of the panic room.”

Stunned, Dean released him.

Cas pulled away, hunched and miserable. He stared out of the window again. “I followed orders, Dean, just like you used to do with your father.”

Dean’s voice was deadly. “You betrayed him. Both of us.”

“I … I’m sorry. I thought I was doing my duty. I was wrong.”

Dean held out a hand. “Stop. I could care less if you’re sorry. The angels want the Apocalypse. Why?”

“They want war to happen. They think they’ll win it, and Paradise on earth will follow.”

Dean’s face was white and set. “And God? Where the fuck is he?”

Cas shook his head wearily. “Nobody knows where he is. We never have known.”

Dean nodded tightly. “You get me to Sam, you help me find him or so help me, Lucifer can bend you and your army of angels over the nearest armchair and I swear I’ll grab a six-pack and find an audience to share the show with.”

Cas’s expression was serious, almost sad. “You swore allegiance to Heaven.”

Dean shrugged and looked back behind him for oncoming cars. “I lied.” He pulled out again, spraying gravel and dirt behind the car.

*

Lilith’s fingers curled over the waist of Sam’s jeans, pulling them up over his thighs. Her hand brushed over the phone in his pocket. She tapped it through the denim with long, pink fingernails, then pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it. “Oh, look. You’ve gotten messages while we were busy.  I bet it’s Dean. What do you think, Sam?” She sighed, bored when he didn’t answer. “You want to hear or should I erase them?” Lilith dangled the phone between her fingertips, then made a motion as if to throw the phone away.

“Don’t.” Sam’s voice was rust and sickness.

Lilith raised her eyebrows at him and smiled, pressing the play button.  Message one was Bobby, urging Sam to call. So was the second, Bobby sounding a little more perturbed. Lilith rolled her eyes, looking at Ruby as if in commiseration.

The third was Dean, his voice deadly fast. “Listen to me-”

Sam heard the first word and couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from Lilith’s white grin, sharp and savage and pleased at finding still more. The most important thing. He couldn’t keep her from seeing what it did to him.

“ -you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam-a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back.”

After it fell silent, Lilith looked at the phone a moment, then tossed it into the trash on the floor.

*

“GPS says he’s here,” Dean said tightly, coasting the Impala to a stop in front of a large old house. It was white and peeling, the only house on the looping graveled road. There were no cars outside. Dean’s stomach sank at the implication.

Castiel disappeared, then reappeared again almost before Dean could react. “Dammit, Cas, is he in there?”

“No. Ruby is inside, bound to a cot. She has a guard. A demon. I thought you might want to question her.”

“You thought that, huh?” Dean muttered, grabbing the demon killing knife from beneath the front seat of the car. He rolled down the Impala’s window and crawled out. The door was too noisy to open this close to the house.

Dean opened the locked front door with a credit card, though the lock was flimsy enough that he probably could have broken it easily. Credit cards were quieter. He crept into the front rooms and up the stairs, directed by Castiel to a room at the end of a narrow hallway. Just outside the door, the floorboards creaked. Castiel looked at him, frowning slightly. Dean winced.

“Come on in, Dean.” A female voice came from inside the room.

Dean shrugged and tucked the knife into the back of his jeans, then stepped inside. Ruby was tied to a cot, her face ashy gray, her hair tangled and limp. Another cot was beside hers, empty, a rumpled, bloodied sheet halfway off the thin mattress.

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, stepping closer to the dark-haired demon leaning against the wall by Ruby.

“Gone.” Lilah picked at a fingernail, then looked up at Dean. “Lilith said you’d show. You’re too late.”

“Where did she take him?”

Lilah shrugged. “I’m on guard duty, what do you think they tell me?”

“She’s a liar. But it doesn’t matter,” Ruby said. She coughed.

Castiel searched the ground with his eyes, then bent at the knee. He fished around in the garbage-covered floor.

Dean moved closer to Ruby. “What’s wrong with you?”

The corner of Ruby’s lips lifted. She rolled her head, looking at the demon. “She’s also a whittler. Been practicing on me.”

Lilah nodded. “I’m upping my skills for sure.” Dean gave her a look but she didn’t move, slouched against the wall.

Ruby’s mutilated ear was exposed when she’d turned her head. Dean bent and looked at it up close. “Ugh. Looks like a rat’s been gnawing at it.”

“Ever helpful, aren’t you? St. Mary’s convent, Dean. Keep driving and you’ll run right into it.” Ruby’s voice slurred.

“And why am I taking your word for it?” Dean asked.

“Because I'm the only game in town, Brainiac.”

There was a rumbling sound from outside, drawing closer. The floors began to shake beneath their feet.

“What the hell?” Dean said.

The lights began to flicker, the bulbs rattling in their settings.

“I understand why you don’t like her-she is a demon-but she’s never betrayed Sam,” Castiel said, and unspoken but heard by both, the way I have.  “Besides, she may be able to help.” He stood, Sam’s phone in his hand.

Dean grabbed the phone from him, then reluctantly pulled the knife from the back of his jeans and cut Ruby free. He looked at the phone and then at Ruby pointedly.

“Lilith threw it,” she said in a near-monotone.

Castiel looked all around the room as the shaking increased. One of the lights in the hallway blew. He nodded at Dean. “Go rescue Sam.”

Dean headed for the door, Ruby behind him. He stopped just inside it. “What’ll you be doing?”

Cas gave him one last look. “Zachariah is sending an archangel for me. One of the ‘big guns,’ as you’d say. They'll be after you next. I’ll hold them back as long as I can.”

Lilah looked afraid. Castiel raised a hand to her forehead without looking. She fell to the ground, boneless, as the light in the room went a bright, sharp white.

“Go now,” Castiel said, moving to look out the window.

Dean and Ruby clattered down the stairs, running to the Impala. Upstairs the window glowed where Castiel stood, lighting the yard and grounds outside as if it were daylight.

*

He lay on cold stone, white candles burning all around him. Power stirred in the air, prickling over his skin. Ruby leaned over him, her skin glowing softly, hair shining, lips full and red. She looked sad. “There’s nothing left for it, Sam. You can’t keep on like this. You need blood.”

Sam shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“But this is what we wanted, so you could be strong and defeat her.” Ruby stroked his cheek.

“It won't work, Ruby,” he muttered, trying to open his eyes, to speak clearly. It was hard. His mouth didn’t want to work any better than the rest of him. “This is her game all the way, not ours.”

“You’re dying, Sam. Please, just a little.” She reached up and dragged her thumbnail over her throat, wincing. Blood rose to the surface of her skin. A single drop ran down her throat, dark against her paleness.

A moment ago, just a single moment, he’d been numb inside. It was easy saying no while feeling no hunger, no pain, but now, now he watched the blood roll down her throat and his mouth was a desert, he was starving, veins drawing and shriveling, insides hollow and thin like glass, threatening to collapse in and shatter upon themselves.

“Please don’t die on me, Sam,” Ruby said, fear on her face. Then she was gone and Dean stood where she had, eyes red-rimmed and lost, voice catching, stumbling over the words. “You can’t do this to me, Sam. You can’t leave again.”

Sam closed his eyes, confused. Warm arms came around him, pulling him close. Blood smeared over his mouth. He could smell it, warm and salty and metallic.

So hungry. He touched his tongue to his lip and the taste burst out over his tongue. He opened his mouth against her throat, all reaction and instinct, catching the tear in her skin with his teeth and opening it brutally. The blood was earthy and sharp and powerful, strong tang against his tongue.

“The king is dead,” Ruby whispered, throat vibrating beneath his mouth. “Long live the king.”

The pieces began to fall together again, reality sharpening, separating from confusion and sickness. Sam grabbed her shoulders, using her body to shove himself away. Lilith watched and did nothing to stop him, red madness and sorrow in her faraway eyes, gore flowing down her neck.

She opened her mouth and spoke. “And it is written, the first demon will be the last seal. The boy king will slay Lucifer's first and take her place; so then will Lucifer rise.”

*

Dean stormed inside, the dark stone walls of the convent curving over him, closing in. He ran toward the last open door. His brother stood in front of an altar, so tall, carved in candlelight against the darkness of the room, curved over Lilith’s body and cradling her to him. Lighting flared outside, and for a moment Sam looked skeletal in the white light.

Sam pushed Lilith away suddenly. She said something that made him stop. Sam flashed a look over his shoulder at Dean-

Red eyes and burning flames, cruel, strong lines of Sam’s face, strength grown in darkness, reaching toward him-calling his name-

“Dean-” Sam said. Dean blinked. The spell broke and it was just Sam, sick and alone. “I keep seeing things, people, I-” Sam’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know who to believe.”

“Believe me, okay? Listen to me. We gotta get you out of here.” Dean had almost made it to Sam when there was a PUSH, propelling his body back against a wall.

Sam looked up. “Stop!” he shouted, raising a hand to Lilith, that bullish, thick voice of his when he was almost beyond reason. The grip on Dean released. He slid to the floor.

Sam wiped his face, smearing blood from his mouth. He looked down at his hand, staring at the blood.

“Oh man, Sammy,” Dean muttered. He got up, scrambling toward his brother.

“Ruby, you’re here,” Lilith said softly. Blood soaked her white dress. “Look what your Sam’s done to me.”

Ruby stopped in front of Lilith, studying her. “It’s a mess, all right.” She nodded at Sam. “Helluva job.”

“Sam, you okay?” Dean asked.

“What do you want,” Sam said, and staggered. “I drank more blood, freak that I am.” His face twisted. “You can go now.”

“Not going anywhere, you moron,” Dean said, grabbing his arm to steady him.

“She tricked me. I was hallucinating,” Sam said, sagging against Dean’s shoulder for an instant. “I won’t do it, Dean. I won’t drink anymore. I’ll die first.”

Dean shook his shoulder gently. “Hey. I believe you.”

Sam closed his eyes. “No, you don’t.”

Lilith’s hand curled around Dean’s bicep from behind, flinging him against the altar. She was on Dean in a second, grabbing an ornate knife from the altar. “It’s time, Sam. Take what’s yours or he goes back with me to hell.” She looked at Dean, rubbed the back of her hand over his cheek. “Won’t that be nice?”

“What do you want me to do?” Sam swayed before her at the altar, ignoring Dean’s shouts to stay back.

“How do you feel, Sam? Are you sick? It's hard even to walk, isn't it? You need more blood. Drink from me. Drown in my blood. When the world is red in your vision, Lucifer will rise, and nothing will ever be the same again. I won't be able to hurt you or your brother anymore. No one will,” Lilith promised.

“I thought you’d gotten everything I had-isn’t that what you said?” Sam said. He fell to the floor, then climbed upright again, holding onto the altar to steady him. “And you still need me to kill you?” He laughed, the edges of it jagged and wild.

Dean slowly pulled the knife from the back of his waistband.

“You should have told me. I wouldn't have said no. I've been waiting for this for a very long time.” Sam took a step toward Lilith. He reached out, brushing her throat with his fingers, then gently wrapped his hand around the side and held it there. He leaned over her, his mouth descending to hers.

Dean stabbed her in the back, the blade of the knife grating on bone. Lilith flung her hands out, back arching. Sam moved out of the way. Dean pulled the knife out with a squelching sound and drove it back into her flesh, using both hands.

Lilith reached behind her, clawed at Dean's hand and pulled the knife out, throwing it across the room. “You’re not the one who finishes it,” Lilith said, gasping for breath.

Ruby ran after the knife, picking it up and throwing it, flying true from her grip to stab Lilith in one of her blind white eyes. Lilith screamed.

Dean leaned close. "Think again." He pulled the knife out, stabbing her again and again, blood spattering his face and clothes.

Lilith sank to the floor, white dress gone mostly red. She raised a hand. “Drink, Sam,” she said, smiling sleepily. Her hand thumped to her side on the stone floor. She twitched and rolled toward him as if to draw him to her still. “Sam? Where are you?”

Sam came to stand over her, looking down. “I’m right here.”

Lilith smiled again, slow and drowsy. “You can't imagine the power you'll feel. Drink from me and nothing will hurt. No one will be able to stop you. Just bring my father to me, and your reward will be great. He's been trapped for so long.”

Sam bared blood-stained teeth. “No.”

Terror crossed Lilith’s face. “Ruby, help me.”

Ruby shook her head. “I'm the one who just stabbed you in the face, remember?”

Lilith’s eyes started to glow, brighter and brighter. As if in a dream, Sam dropped to his knees.

“Sammy, no!” Dean shouted.

The white blazed from her good eye, leaked all around the ruined edges of the other. Sam looked closer, thought someone else peered out from them. Someone trapped and enraged, powerful beyond measure.

He clutched his stomach and fell to his knees, retching, then sank to the ground before Lilith, the pain of the withdrawal he’d suffered the last few days cresting, crashing over him all at once. “Dean!” he choked out.

Dean pulled him up from the floor, slinging Sam's arm over his shoulder. They shuffled toward the door. Ruby went through it, barely visible in the blaring light, and held it open for Sam and Dean. They ran for the Impala, light spilling over the walk behind them.

Dean deposited Sam in the passenger seat and ran around the front of the car, fishing for his keys. He leaped inside and started the car as Ruby climbed into the back seat.

A rumbling sound came from the convent, blinding white light spilling out of the windows and beneath the doors, slipping through cracks invisible to the naked eye. Dean took off in the Impala, gunning the engine, brilliant white light imprinted over the darkness of the road until he could barely see to drive.

He pulled over an hour later, Sam shaking hard in the seat beside him. Sam looked at him from between hunched shoulders, sweat rolling down his brow, dark shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re not gonna want me back like this, Dean.”

Dean stared at him. “I don’t know what this shit is from you. Didn't you get my message?”

Sam nodded, his face closing off, going stony. “Yeah, I got it.”

Dean looked bewildered. “Well then.” He shook his head and looked at Ruby in the rearview mirror. “Cas says you’re really Sam’s friend, Ruby. Prove it. You think you can help him slack off a little at a time?”

“No!” Sam said from between gritted teeth.

“Are you crazy? You know what this did to you in Bobby’s panic room-you can’t go through that again. Look, Sam, I was wrong.”

“And what if I lose control again?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I saw how you lost control back there, all right. I’m plenty worried.”

“Would you just quit with the attitude?” Sam said. “I went after Lilith. I drank some of her blood.”

“You were tricked, and you still didn’t take enough to help you. If I believe you can do this, and hell, if even Dean believes in you, then why can’t you?” Ruby said. Dean frowned at her, and Ruby looked at him, disgusted. “You’re all like this, aren’t you?”

“All who?”

“The Winchesters.”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much. Even before we were all that’s left.”

“And Lilith thought I wanted to deal with that kind of stupidity on a permanent basis. Get back here, Sam. Somebody give me a knife.”

Sam’s foot jittered in the footwell. “I said no.”

Dean reached out, rubbed his shoulder. “I won’t let it get out of control, okay? I promise.”

Sam looked up at him finally, shivering, his eyes hard and dark. “You can’t just turn on a fucking dime. First you’d rather let me die than let me have it, now this?”

“Jesus, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” Dean grumbled. He grasped Sam’s face in his hand, forcing him to look up. “I don’t want you to go through this again. Sue me.”

Sam met his eyes. “Tough.” He wrenched his face away and looked out the window, hunching in on himself. “Stop looking at me.”

Ruby looked at Dean. “Speaking of Cas, wonder if he’s okay?”

Dean stared out at the road and didn’t answer.

*

Dean found a shitty motel-he was good at that-one he hoped wouldn’t question his blood-stained shirt. It was one-story, L-shaped, with a cinderblock exterior on a cleared-out lot in the middle of Bumfuck. Weeds and trees pushed up against the backside of it. The parking lot was empty aside from an early 80s Honda parked to the side of the office.

A guy who looked enough like Norman Bates to be his brother grinned a toothy grin at Dean when he stepped inside to check in. Dean stared at him a moment. “This the Bates Motel?”

The guy slapped the desk as if to laugh and then stopped, the grin starting on his face dying a sudden death. He pointed at a name plate on the desk: Ronald Shores, manager. “People like you are the reason I got this, wise guy. You here for a room or you just stopped in to make jokes?”

“Can I get one on the far end?” Dean pulled out a card.

Ronald Shores looked at him suspiciously. “What for?”

“Ah, just … you know, light sleeper.”

“Wouldn’t want the crowds of people here to wake you, that it?”

Dean spread his hands. “Hey, you never know when the next big rush is gonna hit, right? Listen, could you hurry it up? I’m wiped.”

Ronald shrugged and picked up Dean’s credit card from the desk, peering at it. “Whatever you say, Mr. Osborne.”

*

After Sam made it clear he meant what he said and wasn’t interested in taking her up on the offer of demon blood, Ruby left. Dean followed her outside, but she spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth.

“I’ll call and check in, in case you need me. Or he changes his mind.” Ruby reached out and squeezed his hand. Dean couldn’t make his mouth move to form words. He wanted to tell her something, apologize, even, but she was already halfway down the walk. He’d have bet a twenty on her knowing what he meant to say and leaving quickly to spare them both.

Sam had only gotten worse in the three days since Ruby had left.

The contrast from the time spent in Bobby’s panic room was striking. Sam didn’t call out for Dean, didn’t demand anything, didn’t try to get away. He paced the room, long legs eating up the distance from wall to wall in five steps. He’d curl up on the bed sometimes, arms wrapped around his stomach. He dreamt, and woke himself up shouting, sometimes crying, though he’d stop as soon as his eyes opened. It was eerie, the way he’d cut himself off. He asked Dean for nothing.

Dean fetched him water, made him drink it, got him to change clothes when he needed it, and tried his best to feed him. Sam couldn’t keep much food down, and finally in desperation Dean dared to leave the motel room long enough to go after some Pedialyte, racing to the nearest Walmart and buying a case of it, nearly leaving behind his credit card in his haste to rush out the door.

Any other time and he’d have had fun teasing Sam about dosing him up with a kid’s drink. Not now.

He heard only silence, approaching the door of the motel. Somehow that made it worse, though it’d been the norm more often than not since they’d arrived. Dean gave into his fears and ran to the door. He promptly dropped his key, trying to juggle the damn Pedialyte. Cursing, he stooped, grabbed the key off the doormat and opened the door, bursting into the room.

Sam was sitting on the floor against the wall. His eyes were closed, and he was rocking, banging his head against concrete. Dean dropped the Pedialyte in the floor and knelt beside his brother, curving a hand around the back of Sam’s head to feel for damage. There was a lump the size of an egg at the back of his skull.

“Sam,” he started, and then it all rose up inside, everything that had passed between them, no, gotten between them the past fucking year, and Dean suddenly had to will himself to breathe, just fucking breathe- “you gotta stop this. Talk to me.”

Something in his tone made Sam’s eyes open, green and brown and murky. “I’ll be okay. It’s just … she won’t go away.”

Dean rubbed down the back of Sam’s neck, fingers slow and soothing. “Lilith?”

Sam nodded.

“She’s dead, man. We killed her.”

Sam shook his head. “We don’t know that for sure.”

Dean shrugged. “She looked pretty dead to me.” He hesitated. “What’d she do to you at the farmhouse?”

Sam rolled his head to the side, away from Dean. “It’s nothing. It’s over.”

Dean dropped his hand to Sam’s thigh, squeezing it to get his attention. “It looks like more than nothing,” he said softly.

Slowly Sam turned and looked at him, all the stubbornness and pride snuffed out, leaving his face naked. “I thought you wanted to kill me.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean said. He took another, closer look at his brother’s face. “What the hell-?”

“It’s what you said.” Sam’s face tightened, misery written all over him.

Dean’s fingers tightened on Sam’s thigh. “I’ve taken care of you since you were damn well born! What’s up with you, Sam? Is it Lilith, is that something she put in your head?”

“The one thing I was always afraid of, Dean, you know?” Sam said, staring at the ceiling.

“What?” Dean shook him a little. “Say it. What?”

“Being so different that even you would hate me.”

Dean looked bewildered. “I would never hate you. You were destroying yourself so you could kill Lilith, and you kept saying it didn’t matter but it did, it matters to me, Sam, please.” Dean’s voice wavered. “If this was ever about her sending me to hell, I’m back. I can’t do this without you, I don’t want to.”

“I can’t talk about this, Dean. Not now.”

“But I don’t get why you’d ever think-” Dean started, then trailed off, remembering.

Didn’t you get my message?

And Sam’s face, shuttered and cold, shutting him out completely. Yeah, I got it.

Sam’s phone was on the nightstand, untouched since Dean laid it there three days ago. Dean stood and picked it up, scrolling for the message he’d left Sam. He pressed PLAY almost convulsively.

Sam gave a bad start, then settled back slowly against the wall, closing his eyes again.  Dean’s eyes grew wide. At last the message fell silent.

Dean threw the phone on the bed and sat down in front of Sam. Sam’s eyes shifted away, to the left and then the right, but Dean didn’t let him escape. He wrapped a hand around the back of Sam’s neck again and pulled him close, their foreheads touching, speaking softly. “I didn’t-God, I’d never say that shit to you, no matter how mad I am. I called you, okay, but it was to tell you I’m sorry.”

Sam braced himself with both hands against the floor, his shoulders tensing as he tried to get up, but Dean held him tightly.

“I told you nothing ever got bad enough for me to leave you behind. Believe me, you gotta believe me, please-” Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sam’s.

Sam made a startled sound and Dean pulled back, mortified, eyes wide.

Sam cupped Dean’s face in both hands and yanked him back, kissing him fiercely. He sank into the wall at his back, pulling Dean with him, running a hand over Dean’s cheekbone and behind his ear to grab at Dean’s short hair, changing the angle of Dean’s mouth on his until they fit perfectly. He slid down the wall so that his head rested awkwardly against the baseboard, all the while holding Dean fast.

“Sammy, we can get somewhere more comfortable,” Dean pulled away long enough to murmur in his ear, but Sam only moaned and crushed his lips to Dean’s, arching his body to rub against him.

“Jesus,” Dean breathed. He pushed Sam flat on the floor again, fumbled at Sam’s belt and unzipped his jeans. Sam was hard, his cock jerking against Dean’s fingers as they curled around and gripped him tight. Slowly Dean began to move, almost teasingly.

“Dammit, Dean,” Sam complained, his voice low and rough. His eyes opened to slits, dark and pleading, color high on his cheeks. He rolled his hips so that his cock slid in Dean’s grip, making his own friction.

Dean grinned at Sam, heart in his mouth at seeing and hearing Sam that way, so aroused he could barely speak, trying to make Dean give him more. He began jerking Sam fast and rough, no finesse to it. Sam groaned, thrusting into Dean’s touch. He reached blindly for Dean, rubbing his cock through his jeans, following the hard line of it beneath the material.

Dean pushed his hips into Sam’s hand, long fingers grasping him through denim, squeezing and rubbing along his hard length. Sam was writhing against him, open and God, so hot, wanting and needy, open-mouthed and gasping. Dean pulled his shirt up hard enough he heard threads popping. Sam’s stomach was heaving, his nipples tight, aroused buds. Dean leaned over and tongued one of them, unable to resist. Then he bit him.

Sam’s hips rose off the floor, eyes wide, boots scrabbling in the carpet. His cock swelled and pulsed, finally spilling hot and wet all over Dean’s hand. The sight and feel of Sam beneath him, hot skin against his fingers, eyes on Dean’s, tipped Dean over the edge. He saw Sam register it, feeling the tight spasms quaking through Dean’s cock, trapped beneath Sam’s hand.

Dean came down slow, looking at Sam, his flushed face and swollen lips, thinner than he’d been in a while, somehow fragile looking for all his height and strength. He bent and kissed him again, slow and sweet.

“Lilith screwed with my mind,” Sam said when they parted, out of the blue but really not, not after what they’d done together. He shook his head and looked Dean in the eye. “She did worse than that-” he held out a hand, “-and no, I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice dropped, low and soft. “But you being here, Dean-it’s enough. It’ll be enough.” When Dean didn’t answer, Sam’s brow scrunched lower, worried. He added, “Uh, assuming there’s no big freak out from you about this on the horizon.”

Dean let him stew a moment longer. “Why would there be?” he finally asked, looking innocent.

Sam laughed, dimple curving his cheek.

“This floor is horrible,” Dean added, his face wrinkling in distaste.

Sam raised his eyebrows at him, still amused.

Dean moved so that he hung over Sam, leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Doesn’t matter how shitty it is, not with you here.”

The door flew open and a figure stood inside it, black against the bright sun outside. Ruby walked in, dropping into a corner chair covered in a hideous flower pattern. She eyed Sam and Dean on the floor, who stared up at her, sweaty, hair sticking up everywhere, Sam's zipper undone, wet spot on the front of Dean's pants.

“I see you’re doing better than I thought, Sam.” She smirked, crossing her arms. A flash of white bandage on the lower part of her ear showed under her hair for an instant as she settled in. "A lot better." She raised an eyebrow, glancing from Sam to Dean, then back again. “I’m guessing you don’t have popcorn?”

**