Unexpected Destinies Chapter 152
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 4,056
Summary: Sam doesn't trust any of Dean's three archangels.
PRESENT
It was with a growing sense of disconnect and trepidation that Sam watched his brother pour rock salt onto the ground, slowly creating an intricate pattern all around him. It was mesmerizing in a way, the way the stark white sigil appeared in sharp contrast to the dark soil, almost like chalk on pavement. Bizarrely, for one ephemeral moment, he could see Dean as he had once been as a child, crouched over the worn tarmac of a local basketball court, diligently drawing an equally complex protection charm around him so that he'd be safe within it while Dad and Dean summoned the spirit haunting the local YMCA center.
The memory hit Sam hard, far harder than he'd ever have expected it to. Despite how much he'd hated his life growing up, now he was filled with nothing but nostalgia for the time long since past. Or no, it was more that he felt nostalgic for the memory of his brother as Dean had been back then. No, how they had been back then. Oh sure, superficially it seemed like nothing had changed, but that deception was merely skin deep as it were. While his big brother was still drawing protection sigils around him, everything else had changed.
Radically.
Sam swallowed hard as he tried to take in just how radically it might be. From the moment that he'd first peered into Lisa Braeden's home and had seen another man all but snuggling up with her he'd known, deep down, that things had changed. He'd just never had any idea of exactly how drastically that was true. In fact each meeting with Dean since then had been part of a slow revelation, all leading him towards one horrific and terrifying conclusion that he'd tried his damnest to avoid having to face. He snorted, it was ironic in a way that he'd turned towards such a Dean-like coping method instead of his own more head-on approach of dealing with problems, no matter how distasteful they might be. He'd just never seen the point in delaying the inevitable or refusing to admit to it.
Dean had changed.
It was only marginally becoming easier for Sam to say the words silently to himself and not without having to stave off a panic attack. His brother had changed, and not just in small, insignificant ways either. In fact the sheer magnitude of the alterations was some of what worried him the most. Sure, he could see how people could change in small ways during the course of a year, but not such major ones, not Dean, at least not naturally.
It was this last which worried Sam the most. Not only because the vast majority of the supernatural was evil or wrong, but also because Dean just didn't seem to see it. That bugged him greatly. Dean had often been the more intuitive of them when it came to sensing what was and wasn't normal or human, as the case may be. It was a trait that had always driven him nuts as he'd been the one to spend his time and energy pouring over books of creatures and lore, so for his brother to do what he studied hard for naturally and made it look so effortless, well it had always annoyed him greatly. All of which made his brother's inability to either notice or care that he had been supernaturally influenced huge. So huge that even he himself still shied away from fully confronting the thought though he tried his damnest to right now. He refused, however, to let his cowardice put him off from doing so any longer.
Was Dean even still fully human?
Sam gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his mind plunged straight for the worst possible scenario now that he allowed it to ponder the issue. He wanted to dismiss the thought right out of hand, he really wanted to, but he wasn't going to let emotion get the best of him. No, he was the brother who stopped to think things through instead of barging straight in, halfcocked, guns blazing and shooting first before maybe asking questions later. Luckily for him logic backed his instinctual urge. Despite all else that he was currently thinking about Castiel and his douche brothers, he knew that as angels they would immediately know if something had happened to Dean that no longer made him fully human. And, what was more, he knew that they had a vested interest in keeping his brother human. Ergo, Dean still had to be human.
First hurtle overcome satisfactorily, Sam took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Dean had moved out of his line of sight by now, shifting to complete the salt sigil behind him, but Gwen had come into view. She was drawing an equally complex sigil, but she had to stop every now and then to consult the paper that Dean had given her. Also, instead of using salt, she had the iron shavings. The gray on black wasn't nearly as striking as the white on black, but altogether they formed an almost beautiful design. Or did he merely find it thus because he knew what its intended purpose was and that it would help him? He wasn't entirely sure.
The thought only held Sam's interest for so long before his mind shifted back to the question he'd been pondering before it. Merely determining that his brother was still fully human was only part of an answer unfortunately. There were still many possible causes of the changes in Dean, none of them particularly pleasant. The worst thing was that the most likely causes involved the three archangels currently in the clearing with them. His eyes moved first to glance at Castiel where the angel stood mixing together the libation with Bobby's help while Samuel worked on what looked like the incense needed for tonight's ritual. He hated to think that Castiel could be involved as he'd come to think of the angel as a friend as well as an ally, but he'd learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving when it came to the supernatural, especially with those who claimed to be working with them.
Besides, Castiel had always had an unhealthy interest in Dean and Sam just couldn't help but wonder if the angel had done anything to get his brother into bed. It was an ugly thought but one that had been circling around in the back of his mind ever since Becky had first mentioned Destiel to them. Sure, Dean claimed to always have been bisexual, but he just wasn't certain that he bought that. Surely he would have seen something at some point along the way if that were true. It wasn't like he was unobservant or anything. Sure, looking back on things now Dean had mentioned some gender neutral names, but did that mean that they'd been guys or was that merely wishful thinking on his part?
If his fears were true then Sam knew that Castiel wouldn't have had any qualms about doing other things to change Dean as the angel saw fit to. After all, after something like that, then what was a little more? And there were many ways to achieve smaller changes in people from basic personality traits right down to how they saw things or reacted to common situations. The sheer length of the list of options almost exhausted him as without some clue as to what had been done, he'd have to try and counter each and every one of them. All of which assumed that it had been Castiel who was responsible for the unnatural changes in his brother.
Unfortunately for Sam, that wasn't even a given. He turned his head slightly to look at the two other archangels standing off to one side of the clearing, speaking quietly with each other and watching the rest of them. Although he had never met Raphael before that fateful meeting in the desert, he had met Michael before and his eyes narrowed as he recalled that particular meeting as well as Dean's account of his own first meeting with the archangel. Sure, technically he owed Michael his life from when Anna had fatally injured him, but he knew that the archangel hadn't done that for him, but rather as a means with which to manipulate Dean as well as to ensure that Lucifer had his proper vessel for their desired showdown.
Even that much of a reminder of the devil was too much and Sam shuddered as he recalled it involuntarily. How could his brother stand to voluntarily being that close to Michael? Having had Lucifer in his meat suit, touching his very soul, there were simply no words to describe it, absolutely none. It made his experience in Hell itself seem like nothing in comparison. The sheer Evil and malice that made up the fallen archangel were incomprehensible and it was a wonder to him that Lucifer had ever been anything other than the devil. To think that Lucifer had once been considered the best of all of the angels, well he couldn't believe it. The lore on angels had gotten so much else wrong, he was sure that this was merely just another example of that.
So, yeah, his faith had been shattered in a way that Sam was pretty sure that it would never recover from. True, it had already been on shaky ground before he'd experienced Lucifer so intimately, but it hadn't been broken, at least not yet. So for anyone to try and say that being a vessel could be anything else than horrific, much less a wondrous or fantastic experience, was ridiculous and yet that was exactly what Becky had claimed it was for Dean.
Sam turned his head slightly so that he could watch his brother some more. He'd tried to see what Bobby had said that it was that he did in regards to Dean, but he just couldn't see it. Sure, the others were all saying that he was wrong about his brother, but how arrogant was that of a statement? Dean was his brother, not theirs. He was the one who'd spent years with Dean, growing up with Dean, not them. Even Bobby didn't have nearly the amount of experience that he did with his brother, so how could they possibly claim to know Dean better than him? They couldn't, it was as simple as that.
The close observation had allowed him to see all of the subtle interactions that had taken place between his brother and two older archangels and Sam hadn't liked what he'd seen. Not at all. Although their interaction back in the compound hadn't been too bad, what he'd seen here after he'd recovered from the flight from hell (which he was positive had been done deliberately, the bastard) had been enough to set off all of his alarm bells. Something had passed between Dean and Michael, he was absolutely sure of it. He might have missed his brother's initial reaction to the stunt that Raphael had pulled on him, but he'd caught Michael's amusement before the archangel had turned all of his attention towards Dean.
He still wasn't quite sure how to describe what he'd seen next, but Sam didn't like it in the least. It was almost as if his brother had reacted to some unknown stimulus and when it involved the supernatural that just never boded well for them. The fact that Castiel had also appeared to notice that something was going on and hadn't done anything about it merely served to confirm his fears that his former friend wasn't entirely on the level anymore and couldn't be fully trusted. The problem with that was getting Dean to see it. He knew enough about his brother to know that once Dean let someone in, let alone as thoroughly as his brother appeared to have done with the angel, it all but required an act of God to get Dean to turn against them and he somehow doubted Castiel would be so stupid as to provide him with that kind of opportunity. At least not until it was far too late.
Combined with Raphael's attitude towards him, Sam really didn't want to let any of the three archangels anywhere near him, unfortunately he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter so he gritted his teeth instead. In the past he might have said a quick prayer but now he knew better than to do so. Even if none of the archangels present overheard it he now knew better than to think that anyone who actually cared or even gave a damn heard it. Despite all of that he made sure to keep a close eye on the two, Raphael in particular. Just because he had to accept the situation didn't mean that he had to let his guard down.
The moment that Michael and Raphael stepped forwards and started chanting, Sam felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rise on end. The air was starting to fairly crackle with power and he had a bad moment when he was hit with a memory of what it had felt like when Lucifer had first allowed his full power to flow through him. He cringed at the thought of all of that taint and darkness touching his soul but managed to resign himself. The absolute last thing that he wanted was for this spell not to work and for him to thereby still be open to be taken by Lucifer at any point. The thought that he was only a few sigils away from being the devil's vessel once more right now was horrible enough for him, let alone the thought of remaining so permanently. No, with the Winchester luck Lucifer would find him sooner rather than later if that happened.
Things went quickly from there and Sam found it harder and harder to concentrate. Between the need to fight off the memories that threatened to rush in and overwhelm him, the heady smell of the thick incense that clouded the air and power that was rising up all around him, he wasn't able to focus on anything else but his own meat suit and what felt like a slowly building pressure deep within him. It grew and grew and grew even as everything else reached a crescendo all around him.
Sam had the chance to wonder if Michael and Raphael really intended to kill him and make it look like a botched spell work before darkness rose up all around him and swallowed him whole.
/
"The smurfs have the dragon's eggs!" Sam wailed desperately, looking around frantically for the others.
Where on Earth had everyone else gotten to? He could have sworn that they were here just a moment ago. They'd followed him out of the canyon and into the tropical rain forest and he was sure that they'd all been with him in Bobby's panic room the next instant. He knew that he'd not come in through the door by himself. No, they'd been right there beside him. Just over th-
Sam frowned as he turned around to look and found only an empty corner. What was more, the door through which he'd entered seemed to have vanished and was nothing more than a blank wall now with an equally empty cot shoved up against it. A pair of cuffs dangled from one end of the cot and he had a flash of putting them there when they'd needed to secure Dean to the cot and keep him from trying to run off to find Michael once more. He felt a flare of panic at the thought. Where was Dean? Where had his brother gotten to? Had he gotten out, managed to free himself from the cuffs?
The thought sent Sam into a panic and the next thing he knew he was upstairs in the main room of Bobby's house. "Bobby?" he called out, frantic. "Bobby! Dean's gone, I think he's gone to try and find Michael again. We need to find him and stop him! Bobby? Bobby!"
He ran through every room in the house trying to find the older hunter but there was no sign of Bobby. Sam tried to steady his racing heart and calm his breathing before he began to hyperventilate, but it didn't seem to be working. He had to find his brother! He had to find Dean before he gave himself to Michael. If his brother did, then all would be lost. This was Michael they were talking about here, the one who'd orchestrated this whole damn Apocalypse to begin with and who must have ensured that Dean stayed in Hell long enough to break before being rescued. The one who'd come down on his own brother like a hellhound on its prey without so much as trying to lift a hand to help.
The one who'd coldly betrayed a supposedly beloved little brother because it was what was required of him.
The panic rose within Sam and he rushed towards the stairs. If Bobby wasn't here to help him, then he'd just have to find Dean on his own. No way was he leaving his brother to the archangel's nonexistent mercies. Just what the hell was Dean thinking anyway, trusting that bastard? As if Michael would honor any deal that his brother tried to make with him before saying yes. The no good, lying, backstabbing bastard would probably take great pleasure in doing exactly the opposite of all that he'd told Dean that he would and make his brother watch as it was done, with his own hands no less.
The world had been starting to spin around him for so long that Sam hardly even noticed it anymore until it suddenly sped up right as he was dashing down the stairs and the next thing he knew, he was falling. Falling, falling, falling, head over heels, seeing floor, then ceiling, then floor, then ceiling-
Sam woke with start, hands splayed wide on the bed and braced just as he would have hit the floor in his dream. His breath was coming hard and fast while his heart pounded madly in his chest as he tried to work out what was happening to him and where he was. He stared dully at the ceiling for a few long moments before realizing that he was in his bed at the Campbell compound. With that everything else slowly started to return to him and he sat up with a start as he recalled the ritual in the clearing last night. At least he assumed that it was last night. He didn't think that he'd been out all that long, but the angle at which the sun was entering his room told a different story. It definitely wasn't morning anymore, that was for sure.
It was as he was assessing himself for any changes that Sam noticed it and he froze in disbelief. There, standing on the nightstand beside his bed was a mug of what smelled suspiciously like tomato rice soup. He felt a strange quivering deep inside of him as he realized that, yes, it was actually there and he wasn't just imagining things.
Dean.
His brother had been in here with him. Sam's head whipped around to scan the room and, sure enough, he found a chair with a blanket pulled up close to his bed. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Part of him just seemed to want to melt at this sign that Dean- his Dean- was still in there somewhere despite what the archangels had done to his brother, but another part of him was wary of why exactly Dean wasn't in here with him now. The brother he'd known would never have left him alone, not until he'd woken and Dean could be sure that he was fine. Even after that it had often been a struggle to get his brother to leave him alone long enough to get some peace and quiet so that he could actually recover.
A single touch to the blanket told Sam that whatever had happened was recent as there was still some residual body heat warming the fabric. He grabbed the knife that he'd started keeping under his pillow before he got to his feet and padded softly towards the door to his room. There was a sense of dread within him and he wasn't sure if that was due to the lingering remnants of the rapidly fading nightmare or because of something else, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He opened the door slowly and peered out.
What Sam saw caused his heart to stop in his chest for a moment, dread and disbelief choking it off. There, just a bit further down the hall, stood Dean and Michael, close enough that if he didn't know any better he'd think that they were involved instead of Dean and Castiel. What was more, Michael had a hand up, cupping his brother's face almost tenderly.
The rush of emotions that crashed through Sam at the sight was far too tumultuous for him to pick apart or even try to analyze at the moment but it left him furious, terrified and horrified all at once. Almost as if sensing his presence, Michael turned to look his way and his brother copied the movement, smiling slightly when Dean caught sight of him. The moment was ruined though when Michael's hand shifted to touch his brother's shoulder lightly as the archangel said something to Dean, voice far too soft for him to be able to overhear it. Whatever it was, Dean nodded once and gave the archangel a bigger smile before Michael was just suddenly gone.
Dean acted as if nothing unusual had just transpired and started walking back towards him. "Finally awake I see," Dean said, glancing him over.
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded harshly, exploding forwards in a rush of agitated movement.
"Huh? What was what?"
"That! Him touching your face like that, like he has any right to?"
"Sam, calm down, Mike's just always been like that. It's harmless."
"Harmless, yeah right. You really can't see it, can you?"
Dean actually had the gall to frown at him for that and Sam damn near saw red. It took all of the willpower that he had not to grab his brother and try to shake some sense into his thick skull even though he knew it probably wouldn't work. Why couldn't Dean just see how wrong all of this was?
"Look, I know that this is hard for you, Sam, but you need to realize that Mike and Raph really are on our side here."
"No, I really don't. Can't you see what they're doing here? They've got you so wrapped up around their little fingers and Castiel that you can't see straight anymore. Did you even notice that stunt Raphael pulled yesterday?"
"Stunt? What, you mean the fact that he didn't properly cushion you during the flight to the forest? Come on, Sam, that's hardly a stunt, just a harmless little prank."
"There, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about! That's an archangel you're talking about, Dean, not some estranged brother who you've gotten to know. Heaven's most terrifying weapons and all that, remember? They don't do pranks, just destruction and chaos."
"Maybe that's how you see it and I'm sorry for what you went through with Lucifer, but you need to remember that you chose to do that. Hell, you practically begged me to let you do it! So don't go painting all the rest of them with the same brush just because of your bad experience with one of them. Raph was just poking fun like-"
"What? A brother would? Give me a break! Are you even hearing yourself?"
"Are you?"
"What's going on here?" Bobby demanded, appearing at the end of the hall.
"Dean's being too stubborn to see reason," Sam explained calmly.
"Whatever," Dean retorted. "I'm out of here."
Sam stared at his brother in disbelief as Dean actually turned around and walked away. "Yeah, that's right, just run away like you always do!"
Chapter 153
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 4,056
Summary: Sam doesn't trust any of Dean's three archangels.
PRESENT
It was with a growing sense of disconnect and trepidation that Sam watched his brother pour rock salt onto the ground, slowly creating an intricate pattern all around him. It was mesmerizing in a way, the way the stark white sigil appeared in sharp contrast to the dark soil, almost like chalk on pavement. Bizarrely, for one ephemeral moment, he could see Dean as he had once been as a child, crouched over the worn tarmac of a local basketball court, diligently drawing an equally complex protection charm around him so that he'd be safe within it while Dad and Dean summoned the spirit haunting the local YMCA center.
The memory hit Sam hard, far harder than he'd ever have expected it to. Despite how much he'd hated his life growing up, now he was filled with nothing but nostalgia for the time long since past. Or no, it was more that he felt nostalgic for the memory of his brother as Dean had been back then. No, how they had been back then. Oh sure, superficially it seemed like nothing had changed, but that deception was merely skin deep as it were. While his big brother was still drawing protection sigils around him, everything else had changed.
Radically.
Sam swallowed hard as he tried to take in just how radically it might be. From the moment that he'd first peered into Lisa Braeden's home and had seen another man all but snuggling up with her he'd known, deep down, that things had changed. He'd just never had any idea of exactly how drastically that was true. In fact each meeting with Dean since then had been part of a slow revelation, all leading him towards one horrific and terrifying conclusion that he'd tried his damnest to avoid having to face. He snorted, it was ironic in a way that he'd turned towards such a Dean-like coping method instead of his own more head-on approach of dealing with problems, no matter how distasteful they might be. He'd just never seen the point in delaying the inevitable or refusing to admit to it.
Dean had changed.
It was only marginally becoming easier for Sam to say the words silently to himself and not without having to stave off a panic attack. His brother had changed, and not just in small, insignificant ways either. In fact the sheer magnitude of the alterations was some of what worried him the most. Sure, he could see how people could change in small ways during the course of a year, but not such major ones, not Dean, at least not naturally.
It was this last which worried Sam the most. Not only because the vast majority of the supernatural was evil or wrong, but also because Dean just didn't seem to see it. That bugged him greatly. Dean had often been the more intuitive of them when it came to sensing what was and wasn't normal or human, as the case may be. It was a trait that had always driven him nuts as he'd been the one to spend his time and energy pouring over books of creatures and lore, so for his brother to do what he studied hard for naturally and made it look so effortless, well it had always annoyed him greatly. All of which made his brother's inability to either notice or care that he had been supernaturally influenced huge. So huge that even he himself still shied away from fully confronting the thought though he tried his damnest to right now. He refused, however, to let his cowardice put him off from doing so any longer.
Was Dean even still fully human?
Sam gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his mind plunged straight for the worst possible scenario now that he allowed it to ponder the issue. He wanted to dismiss the thought right out of hand, he really wanted to, but he wasn't going to let emotion get the best of him. No, he was the brother who stopped to think things through instead of barging straight in, halfcocked, guns blazing and shooting first before maybe asking questions later. Luckily for him logic backed his instinctual urge. Despite all else that he was currently thinking about Castiel and his douche brothers, he knew that as angels they would immediately know if something had happened to Dean that no longer made him fully human. And, what was more, he knew that they had a vested interest in keeping his brother human. Ergo, Dean still had to be human.
First hurtle overcome satisfactorily, Sam took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Dean had moved out of his line of sight by now, shifting to complete the salt sigil behind him, but Gwen had come into view. She was drawing an equally complex sigil, but she had to stop every now and then to consult the paper that Dean had given her. Also, instead of using salt, she had the iron shavings. The gray on black wasn't nearly as striking as the white on black, but altogether they formed an almost beautiful design. Or did he merely find it thus because he knew what its intended purpose was and that it would help him? He wasn't entirely sure.
The thought only held Sam's interest for so long before his mind shifted back to the question he'd been pondering before it. Merely determining that his brother was still fully human was only part of an answer unfortunately. There were still many possible causes of the changes in Dean, none of them particularly pleasant. The worst thing was that the most likely causes involved the three archangels currently in the clearing with them. His eyes moved first to glance at Castiel where the angel stood mixing together the libation with Bobby's help while Samuel worked on what looked like the incense needed for tonight's ritual. He hated to think that Castiel could be involved as he'd come to think of the angel as a friend as well as an ally, but he'd learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving when it came to the supernatural, especially with those who claimed to be working with them.
Besides, Castiel had always had an unhealthy interest in Dean and Sam just couldn't help but wonder if the angel had done anything to get his brother into bed. It was an ugly thought but one that had been circling around in the back of his mind ever since Becky had first mentioned Destiel to them. Sure, Dean claimed to always have been bisexual, but he just wasn't certain that he bought that. Surely he would have seen something at some point along the way if that were true. It wasn't like he was unobservant or anything. Sure, looking back on things now Dean had mentioned some gender neutral names, but did that mean that they'd been guys or was that merely wishful thinking on his part?
If his fears were true then Sam knew that Castiel wouldn't have had any qualms about doing other things to change Dean as the angel saw fit to. After all, after something like that, then what was a little more? And there were many ways to achieve smaller changes in people from basic personality traits right down to how they saw things or reacted to common situations. The sheer length of the list of options almost exhausted him as without some clue as to what had been done, he'd have to try and counter each and every one of them. All of which assumed that it had been Castiel who was responsible for the unnatural changes in his brother.
Unfortunately for Sam, that wasn't even a given. He turned his head slightly to look at the two other archangels standing off to one side of the clearing, speaking quietly with each other and watching the rest of them. Although he had never met Raphael before that fateful meeting in the desert, he had met Michael before and his eyes narrowed as he recalled that particular meeting as well as Dean's account of his own first meeting with the archangel. Sure, technically he owed Michael his life from when Anna had fatally injured him, but he knew that the archangel hadn't done that for him, but rather as a means with which to manipulate Dean as well as to ensure that Lucifer had his proper vessel for their desired showdown.
Even that much of a reminder of the devil was too much and Sam shuddered as he recalled it involuntarily. How could his brother stand to voluntarily being that close to Michael? Having had Lucifer in his meat suit, touching his very soul, there were simply no words to describe it, absolutely none. It made his experience in Hell itself seem like nothing in comparison. The sheer Evil and malice that made up the fallen archangel were incomprehensible and it was a wonder to him that Lucifer had ever been anything other than the devil. To think that Lucifer had once been considered the best of all of the angels, well he couldn't believe it. The lore on angels had gotten so much else wrong, he was sure that this was merely just another example of that.
So, yeah, his faith had been shattered in a way that Sam was pretty sure that it would never recover from. True, it had already been on shaky ground before he'd experienced Lucifer so intimately, but it hadn't been broken, at least not yet. So for anyone to try and say that being a vessel could be anything else than horrific, much less a wondrous or fantastic experience, was ridiculous and yet that was exactly what Becky had claimed it was for Dean.
Sam turned his head slightly so that he could watch his brother some more. He'd tried to see what Bobby had said that it was that he did in regards to Dean, but he just couldn't see it. Sure, the others were all saying that he was wrong about his brother, but how arrogant was that of a statement? Dean was his brother, not theirs. He was the one who'd spent years with Dean, growing up with Dean, not them. Even Bobby didn't have nearly the amount of experience that he did with his brother, so how could they possibly claim to know Dean better than him? They couldn't, it was as simple as that.
The close observation had allowed him to see all of the subtle interactions that had taken place between his brother and two older archangels and Sam hadn't liked what he'd seen. Not at all. Although their interaction back in the compound hadn't been too bad, what he'd seen here after he'd recovered from the flight from hell (which he was positive had been done deliberately, the bastard) had been enough to set off all of his alarm bells. Something had passed between Dean and Michael, he was absolutely sure of it. He might have missed his brother's initial reaction to the stunt that Raphael had pulled on him, but he'd caught Michael's amusement before the archangel had turned all of his attention towards Dean.
He still wasn't quite sure how to describe what he'd seen next, but Sam didn't like it in the least. It was almost as if his brother had reacted to some unknown stimulus and when it involved the supernatural that just never boded well for them. The fact that Castiel had also appeared to notice that something was going on and hadn't done anything about it merely served to confirm his fears that his former friend wasn't entirely on the level anymore and couldn't be fully trusted. The problem with that was getting Dean to see it. He knew enough about his brother to know that once Dean let someone in, let alone as thoroughly as his brother appeared to have done with the angel, it all but required an act of God to get Dean to turn against them and he somehow doubted Castiel would be so stupid as to provide him with that kind of opportunity. At least not until it was far too late.
Combined with Raphael's attitude towards him, Sam really didn't want to let any of the three archangels anywhere near him, unfortunately he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter so he gritted his teeth instead. In the past he might have said a quick prayer but now he knew better than to do so. Even if none of the archangels present overheard it he now knew better than to think that anyone who actually cared or even gave a damn heard it. Despite all of that he made sure to keep a close eye on the two, Raphael in particular. Just because he had to accept the situation didn't mean that he had to let his guard down.
The moment that Michael and Raphael stepped forwards and started chanting, Sam felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rise on end. The air was starting to fairly crackle with power and he had a bad moment when he was hit with a memory of what it had felt like when Lucifer had first allowed his full power to flow through him. He cringed at the thought of all of that taint and darkness touching his soul but managed to resign himself. The absolute last thing that he wanted was for this spell not to work and for him to thereby still be open to be taken by Lucifer at any point. The thought that he was only a few sigils away from being the devil's vessel once more right now was horrible enough for him, let alone the thought of remaining so permanently. No, with the Winchester luck Lucifer would find him sooner rather than later if that happened.
Things went quickly from there and Sam found it harder and harder to concentrate. Between the need to fight off the memories that threatened to rush in and overwhelm him, the heady smell of the thick incense that clouded the air and power that was rising up all around him, he wasn't able to focus on anything else but his own meat suit and what felt like a slowly building pressure deep within him. It grew and grew and grew even as everything else reached a crescendo all around him.
Sam had the chance to wonder if Michael and Raphael really intended to kill him and make it look like a botched spell work before darkness rose up all around him and swallowed him whole.
/
"The smurfs have the dragon's eggs!" Sam wailed desperately, looking around frantically for the others.
Where on Earth had everyone else gotten to? He could have sworn that they were here just a moment ago. They'd followed him out of the canyon and into the tropical rain forest and he was sure that they'd all been with him in Bobby's panic room the next instant. He knew that he'd not come in through the door by himself. No, they'd been right there beside him. Just over th-
Sam frowned as he turned around to look and found only an empty corner. What was more, the door through which he'd entered seemed to have vanished and was nothing more than a blank wall now with an equally empty cot shoved up against it. A pair of cuffs dangled from one end of the cot and he had a flash of putting them there when they'd needed to secure Dean to the cot and keep him from trying to run off to find Michael once more. He felt a flare of panic at the thought. Where was Dean? Where had his brother gotten to? Had he gotten out, managed to free himself from the cuffs?
The thought sent Sam into a panic and the next thing he knew he was upstairs in the main room of Bobby's house. "Bobby?" he called out, frantic. "Bobby! Dean's gone, I think he's gone to try and find Michael again. We need to find him and stop him! Bobby? Bobby!"
He ran through every room in the house trying to find the older hunter but there was no sign of Bobby. Sam tried to steady his racing heart and calm his breathing before he began to hyperventilate, but it didn't seem to be working. He had to find his brother! He had to find Dean before he gave himself to Michael. If his brother did, then all would be lost. This was Michael they were talking about here, the one who'd orchestrated this whole damn Apocalypse to begin with and who must have ensured that Dean stayed in Hell long enough to break before being rescued. The one who'd come down on his own brother like a hellhound on its prey without so much as trying to lift a hand to help.
The one who'd coldly betrayed a supposedly beloved little brother because it was what was required of him.
The panic rose within Sam and he rushed towards the stairs. If Bobby wasn't here to help him, then he'd just have to find Dean on his own. No way was he leaving his brother to the archangel's nonexistent mercies. Just what the hell was Dean thinking anyway, trusting that bastard? As if Michael would honor any deal that his brother tried to make with him before saying yes. The no good, lying, backstabbing bastard would probably take great pleasure in doing exactly the opposite of all that he'd told Dean that he would and make his brother watch as it was done, with his own hands no less.
The world had been starting to spin around him for so long that Sam hardly even noticed it anymore until it suddenly sped up right as he was dashing down the stairs and the next thing he knew, he was falling. Falling, falling, falling, head over heels, seeing floor, then ceiling, then floor, then ceiling-
Sam woke with start, hands splayed wide on the bed and braced just as he would have hit the floor in his dream. His breath was coming hard and fast while his heart pounded madly in his chest as he tried to work out what was happening to him and where he was. He stared dully at the ceiling for a few long moments before realizing that he was in his bed at the Campbell compound. With that everything else slowly started to return to him and he sat up with a start as he recalled the ritual in the clearing last night. At least he assumed that it was last night. He didn't think that he'd been out all that long, but the angle at which the sun was entering his room told a different story. It definitely wasn't morning anymore, that was for sure.
It was as he was assessing himself for any changes that Sam noticed it and he froze in disbelief. There, standing on the nightstand beside his bed was a mug of what smelled suspiciously like tomato rice soup. He felt a strange quivering deep inside of him as he realized that, yes, it was actually there and he wasn't just imagining things.
Dean.
His brother had been in here with him. Sam's head whipped around to scan the room and, sure enough, he found a chair with a blanket pulled up close to his bed. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Part of him just seemed to want to melt at this sign that Dean- his Dean- was still in there somewhere despite what the archangels had done to his brother, but another part of him was wary of why exactly Dean wasn't in here with him now. The brother he'd known would never have left him alone, not until he'd woken and Dean could be sure that he was fine. Even after that it had often been a struggle to get his brother to leave him alone long enough to get some peace and quiet so that he could actually recover.
A single touch to the blanket told Sam that whatever had happened was recent as there was still some residual body heat warming the fabric. He grabbed the knife that he'd started keeping under his pillow before he got to his feet and padded softly towards the door to his room. There was a sense of dread within him and he wasn't sure if that was due to the lingering remnants of the rapidly fading nightmare or because of something else, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He opened the door slowly and peered out.
What Sam saw caused his heart to stop in his chest for a moment, dread and disbelief choking it off. There, just a bit further down the hall, stood Dean and Michael, close enough that if he didn't know any better he'd think that they were involved instead of Dean and Castiel. What was more, Michael had a hand up, cupping his brother's face almost tenderly.
The rush of emotions that crashed through Sam at the sight was far too tumultuous for him to pick apart or even try to analyze at the moment but it left him furious, terrified and horrified all at once. Almost as if sensing his presence, Michael turned to look his way and his brother copied the movement, smiling slightly when Dean caught sight of him. The moment was ruined though when Michael's hand shifted to touch his brother's shoulder lightly as the archangel said something to Dean, voice far too soft for him to be able to overhear it. Whatever it was, Dean nodded once and gave the archangel a bigger smile before Michael was just suddenly gone.
Dean acted as if nothing unusual had just transpired and started walking back towards him. "Finally awake I see," Dean said, glancing him over.
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded harshly, exploding forwards in a rush of agitated movement.
"Huh? What was what?"
"That! Him touching your face like that, like he has any right to?"
"Sam, calm down, Mike's just always been like that. It's harmless."
"Harmless, yeah right. You really can't see it, can you?"
Dean actually had the gall to frown at him for that and Sam damn near saw red. It took all of the willpower that he had not to grab his brother and try to shake some sense into his thick skull even though he knew it probably wouldn't work. Why couldn't Dean just see how wrong all of this was?
"Look, I know that this is hard for you, Sam, but you need to realize that Mike and Raph really are on our side here."
"No, I really don't. Can't you see what they're doing here? They've got you so wrapped up around their little fingers and Castiel that you can't see straight anymore. Did you even notice that stunt Raphael pulled yesterday?"
"Stunt? What, you mean the fact that he didn't properly cushion you during the flight to the forest? Come on, Sam, that's hardly a stunt, just a harmless little prank."
"There, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about! That's an archangel you're talking about, Dean, not some estranged brother who you've gotten to know. Heaven's most terrifying weapons and all that, remember? They don't do pranks, just destruction and chaos."
"Maybe that's how you see it and I'm sorry for what you went through with Lucifer, but you need to remember that you chose to do that. Hell, you practically begged me to let you do it! So don't go painting all the rest of them with the same brush just because of your bad experience with one of them. Raph was just poking fun like-"
"What? A brother would? Give me a break! Are you even hearing yourself?"
"Are you?"
"What's going on here?" Bobby demanded, appearing at the end of the hall.
"Dean's being too stubborn to see reason," Sam explained calmly.
"Whatever," Dean retorted. "I'm out of here."
Sam stared at his brother in disbelief as Dean actually turned around and walked away. "Yeah, that's right, just run away like you always do!"
Chapter 153