Somewhere a Clock is Ticking, 9/9 (R, Sam/Dean)
Title: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking (Part 9 of 9 - COMPLETE)
Rating: R
Pairing: Eventual Sam/Dean
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: 71,678 words for the fic as a whole.
Betas: So, so much love to zooey_glass04 and aynslee, beta readers and Ameripickers extraordinaire, for all their awesomeness and hand-holding. Thank you, darlings! <333
Notes: This is the fic I wrote during Nano 2007; I had only seen up to episode 3.04 (Sin City) at the time. This is therefore set post-3.04 and contains spoilers only up to that point; of course, it has now been completely overtaken by canon and is officially AU. The fic is now complete; there is an epilogue after this chapter, which is being posted simultaneously. \0/
Summary: "No," Sam repeated. "No, I'm not giving up on you. This is not over yet."
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
The Impala skidded around a corner, and Dean had to bite his tongue to hold back the warning that sprang to his lips. He didn't quite dare to threaten Sam for treating his car that way, though, not when Sam was like this.
Sam's face was set, a faint frown of concentration the only sign Dean had that his brother was even still thinking about whatever crazy stunt he had planned. Dean was getting seriously worried about what exactly that might be.
"Sam," he ventured cautiously. When his brother kept on staring straight ahead at the road without speaking, Dean raised his voice. "Sammy."
"Don't," Sam said tersely.
"No, see, that's my line," Dean told him. "Whatever the hell you're thinking of doing -"
"I know what I'm doing, Dean," Sam said quietly. "Trust me."
They didn't often say that to each other. Some things were too fundamental to need to be discussed. And Dean did trust Sam, he really did. He trusted Sam to find a way to bring him back - and that was what worried him. What he didn't trust was Sam's ability to find a way to do it without getting himself killed.
Dean shut up. Better to save his ammunition for a battle it looked like he could win. And his energy. The night was wearing on, and he could feel the world starting to turn strange and faded around him. He was starting to slip again, and though he still had a little time left before he lost himself, he needed to start conserving his strength.
Sam braked hard, and Dean couldn't stop himself from cursing this time as the car came to a screeching halt at the side of the road. His anger at the mistreatment of the Impala faded, however, when he realized that Sam had stopped just a few feet away from where another road met the one they were on.
"No," Dean said sharply. "Sam, don't -"
Last time Sam had stopped at a crossroads, he'd been unable to see or hear Dean's protests. For all the attention Sam was paying this time, Dean thought acidly as his brother got out of the car, he might as well still be invisible.
He hurried after his brother, picking up his pace when he realized that Sam wasn't pausing to collect the box they'd used in the past to summon the demon, but instead heading straight for the center of the crossroads.
"Sam -" Dean said, feeling panic creeping in. "Sammy, please, don't -"
Sam swung round to meet his eyes, and Dean felt his words die under his brother's gaze.
"I need to," Sam said, his voice almost inaudible.
Their gazes held for a long moment, all the things they never bothered putting into words hanging between them, and Dean closed his mouth, swallowing hard. He'd always known Sam loved him; he'd just never quite understood that Sam genuinely felt just as strongly as Dean did about him. He really wished he could have found out some other way.
Sam tilted his head up to look at the sky, and called out in a hard-edged tone, "I summon you!"
Dean held his breath. He'd kind of assumed that Sam would need her name in order to summon her, but he could hear the whip-crack of command in Sam's voice which he'd long since learned meant that his brother was putting the whammy on someone, so maybe that was enough.
And it seemed to be, because the demon was suddenly standing at the center of the crossroads, just a few feet away from Sam.
Dean had to fight to stop himself from developing claws in reaction to the threat he knew she posed to Sam. He made himself concentrate on her appearance, instead. Ruby had been wrong about her possessing someone who looked like Jessica, because she was a dazzling brunette again, but perhaps that was just because Sam hadn't given her enough time to pick out someone suitable to wear. Her face was drawn into lines of cold fury, and Dean caught his breath at the realization that Sam had managed to compel her, even though he'd said he wasn't strong enough.
"I seem to recall warning you not to try that on me again," the demon said. Her eyes flashed red for a moment before she seemed to get her fury back under control. "You're lucky I was feeling generous enough to come anyway, Sam Winchester."
Bullshit, Dean thought. He forced you. He restrained the urge to move across and stand beside his brother: this was Sam's show, much as Dean might wish otherwise, and he wasn't about to risk distracting him or weakening his position.
Sam didn't seem interested in engaging with her bullshit, which Dean approved of, at least. "I want my brother back."
The demon sighed over-dramatically. "This again? You Winchesters are all the same. It really is starting to get boring."
"I want you to bring him back," Sam said again steadily.
She laughed. "That's not all you want, is it, Sam? All those pent-up longings you never knew you harbored, all those dark little secrets you kept even from your own subconscious... It must have come as shock, realizing the kind of cesspit you have inside of you. And now you want him back to unleash all of that on him?" Her smile was vicious. "I can understand why you'd finally be willing to make a deal now, though." She lowered her voice, mock-conspiratorially. "Those claws are a real turn-off, I bet."
Dean had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shifting into claws, and only just managed to choke down the furious retort on his lips. Sam knew better than to listen to her bullshit, and Dean wasn't going to play into her hands by interrupting.
Sam remained silent, his jaw clenched tightly.
"So tell me, Sam," the demon said, "did you really bring me here for a reason, or are you just wasting my time again? Because you might be able to compel me into appearing, but breaking a deal? Trust me, you don't stand a chance. And as much fun as it always is to see you and Dean, I do have other things to do with my time."
"I know I can't compel you," Sam said. "That's not why I'm here. I want to make a deal - two of them, actually."
Fuck, Dean thought. "Oh fuck, Sam, please, no," he said, before he'd even realized he was speaking aloud.
She turned her gaze on him, her eyes sparkling. "Runs in the family, huh, Dean? It must just be killing you - all over again - to stand there and know you can't interfere." She smiled at him maliciously before returning her attention to Sam. "The thing is, Sam, you don't have two souls to sell. You might be able to arrange one deal, if I'm feeling very generous, but not two."
She took a step towards Sam and lowered her voice. "If you want him back... I could do that. He'd have three weeks of life. There's a lot he could do in three weeks. And I could be persuaded to give you those three weeks with him and collect you both at the same time. Of course... there is the risk that he wouldn't want you, once he was back in his body and no longer half-insane. He might not cling to you quite as much when you're not the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's amazing what kinds of deviant behavior people can be coerced into when they're vulnerable, isn't it? Then again, maybe he won't even remember that you took advantage once he's back in his body. Who knows?" She laughed. "I guess that's the kind of risk you take for people you love, isn't it, Sam?"
Dean couldn't stop himself from hissing, could feel his teeth lengthening as rage coursed through him.
Sam didn't look in his direction, but Dean saw his throat working before he spoke. "My soul isn't what I had in mind."
"Oh, please," she said dismissively. "What else could you possibly have that would interest me?"
"I've got the ability to compel you," Sam said.
The demon's smile faded. "I already told you that you're not strong enough to force me to break a deal."
"I know," Sam agreed. "But we both know I did compel you to come here. And I forced you to appear for our last meeting, too, didn't I? I just didn't realize it at the time. So I already have the ability to make your existence... less than enjoyable. And I'm only going to get stronger." He smiled grimly. "You don't like taking orders, you've made that very clear. And I think that it might fuck things up for you a bit if I start summoning you back every time you try to leave these crossroads. Being trapped here with me until I die... You've gotten a lot of entertainment out of my family, but I don't think you'd find that too much fun."
She stared at him for a moment, then started to smile. "Well, well, well. Maybe you're a bit more interesting than I thought. But I think you're bluffing, Sam. I don't think you're strong enough to pull that off, not yet."
"Kneel," Sam commanded, his voice deepening.
Dean watched with savage satisfaction as she struggled against the order but slowly sank down to her knees, snarling at Sam, all her playful amusement stripped away. Sam smiled at her, cold and hard.
"You've made your point," she ground out through gritted teeth. "Let me up."
"In a moment, maybe," Sam said. "Are you willing to deal?"
She glared at him, but Dean knew she had no other choice, and she seemed to recognize that too, however reluctantly. "Yes."
"Then you can stand up again, if you want," Sam said casually.
Dean grinned as she got to her feet. There was grey dust from the road smeared across her black dress, and it was hugely satisfying to see her look less than perfect.
"Fine," she said, her voice tight with fury. "I'll bring your brother back. And in exchange you'll be bound from compelling me. Deal?"
"Bring him back and heal his body," Sam specified. "Make sure he doesn't suffer any after-effects from all of this."
She glared at him. "The physical side of things I can take care of. Mental side-effects are out of my hands, though."
Sam looked at her for a moment, but seemed to conclude she was being truthful, because he nodded. "Okay, then. Deal." He turned his head in Dean's direction, as if about to say something, but before he had the chance the demon was kissing him.
Dean barely had a chance to snarl at that before everything went dark.
~*~
Sam yanked his head away from the demon, grimacing. She took a step back, her eyes hard.
He ignored her and looked around. There was no sign of Dean. "Where is he?" he demanded, turning back to her.
She looked at him contemptuously. "We made a deal. He's back in that body you want so badly, just like we agreed."
Sam gritted his teeth. She had a real fucking talent for picking away at his weak spots, but he was damned if he was going to give her the reaction she was looking for. "Fine. Then let's move on to the second deal. I want you to release Dean from the deal he made with you. No year limit, no claim on his soul - he's free."
"And what can you offer me for that?" the demon demanded. "Because you're asking me to give up a lot. Why should I?"
Sam took a deep breath. "Because in return I'll give you the Colt." He took it out and balanced it on his palm for her to see.
The demon stared at it, then at him. And then she burst out laughing.
Sam swallowed and waited. Mind games. Don't fall for it.
"I don't believe it," the demon said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oh, Sam. Are you really that naive? You really haven't figured it out?" She threw her head back and laughed again.
Mind games, Sam reminded himself again, but with less conviction this time. Something about the way she was laughing - more sheer amusement than maliciousness - struck him as genuine.
"Sorry, Sam," she said, almost fondly, "I'm afraid I'm not interested in your toy gun. If I want flashy light effects, I can make my own. It's not even worth a kiss, let alone a deal." She smiled at him and turned away, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm still willing to give you three weeks in exchange for your soul, though. You still get the time with your brother, but you're the only one who has to go to hell at the end of it. That'd be fairer, wouldn't it? Since you're the reason he made the deal in the first place?"
Sam was still trying to absorb the implications of what she'd said about the Colt, but he shoved that aside, tucking the gun away again and concentrating on the real problem. Her offer was almost tempting, even if it would only give him three weeks. He would only have three weeks with Dean anyway, as things stood, and this way... There was an appropriate kind of symmetry to it. And he'd had a taste now of what it would be like to lose Dean, and it was something he really didn't want to go through again.
But he couldn't do that to Dean, either.
"No deal," he forced himself to say, and swallowed hard. We've got three weeks. That's still enough time to come up with another way.
"Too bad," the demon said and smiled. "Nice doing business with you, Sam. Enjoy your brother's last three weeks." She turned away again.
"Wait!" Sam said hastily, a thought occurring to him.
"You can't compel me, not any more," the demon said, throwing a malicious grin at him over her shoulder. "Forgotten so soon?"
"I wasn't trying to," Sam said, playing for time as his thoughts raced. "I was... requesting that you wait for a moment. Because I still have something else to offer you in exchange for Dean's soul."
She laughed, turning properly to face him. "Oh, what will it be this time? Another shiny piece of scrap metal, maybe?"
"No," Sam said slowly. "I can offer you freedom."
She eyed him thoughtfully. "I have freedom, and you've already given up your ability to compel me."
"But it goes further than that, what I can do, doesn't it?" Sam said, still figuring it out as he went along. "Ruby didn't just want me to compel individual demons, she wanted me to command them. To rule them. When Azazel died, that... potential passed to me."
"That hardly affects me now you can't control me," the demon said dismissively.
"Now who's being naive?" Sam asked, feeling a smile tug at his lips. "If I'm in control of every other demon, do you really think what I can do with that power won't affect you? I could send them after you. I could give others power over the crossroads. I could have you confined. The possibilities are endless."
The demon stared at him. "You wouldn't. You've fought it every step of the way."
"I have," Sam agreed. "But if my brother's in hell, well... that rather gives me an incentive to be the one running the place, doesn't it? I don't want to do it, no. I don't deny that. But I'd be prepared to do it if I had to."
"What are you proposing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
"You release Dean from his deal, like I said," Sam said. "And I give up my right to rule - my ability to order demons around and everything else it entails. We both get what we want. You get to profit from the lack of clear command structures to go your own way." He paused, then added as an afterthought, "And you don't need to worry about having Ruby in power over you."
The demon gave a twisted smile. "A compelling argument, I'll grant you that." She eyed him for a moment longer, as if sizing him up, and Sam held his breath and tried to look confident. He wasn't entirely sure himself whether or not he was bluffing. And he really hoped he wouldn't be forced to find out.
"Deal," she said finally, and grabbed his hair to yank him down painfully into a kiss.
Sam was half-expecting to feel different when she released him, like something was missing inside him, but there was nothing.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Sam Winchester," the demon said, smiling almost seductively at him and touching a finger to his lips fleetingly.
Sam took a sharp step back. "Dean's free?"
"He's all yours," she said, and smiled cruelly. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that." She vanished before he could formulate a retort, leaving him staring around at the deserted crossroads.
He'd done it. He'd actually done it. But Sam couldn't find it in himself to celebrate yet. Quite apart from the misgivings he still had about what the demon had said about the Colt, part of him wouldn't believe that his brother was back until he could see Dean for himself, wouldn't stop worrying until the three weeks were past and Dean really was still there.
As if it had heard his thoughts, his cell phone rang. Sam reached into his pocket and hastily pulled it out.
Dean, the display blinked.
The wave of relief that hit him was so strong that it took Sam a moment to press the receive button. "Dean?" He couldn't suppress the eagerness in his voice, but he figured his brother owed him some slack for a chick-flick moment right now.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Sam. Dean's not feeling too talkative right now," Ruby said, and the line went dead.
~*~
The Impala's wheels were loud on the gravel as Sam pulled the car up in front of Bobby's house. The house itself was in darkness, confirming his suspicion that Ruby had managed to take Bobby out of the equation before she'd gone after Dean.
Sam couldn't let himself think about that now; much as it went against the grain, he didn't have time to go check on Bobby. He jumped out of the car and headed in the direction of the outhouse where they'd stored Dean's body.
He didn't bother trying to stay quiet enough to sneak up without being heard: he knew the sound of the car roaring up to the house would have destroyed any element of surprise he might have had, but there just hadn't been time to leave it further away. Besides, Ruby knew he was coming, was counting on it. She wouldn't have called him from Dean's cell if she hadn't wanted to lure him here.
He pulled out his gun as he reached the outhouse, and grimaced at the realization that he was still carrying the Colt. Which was apparently worse than useless. He eased the safety off anyway, and kicked the door open.
"Hi, Sam," Ruby said. "Took you long enough to get here."
Sam ignored her, his eyes focused on his brother. Dean was sitting on the bench at the end of the tiny outhouse, and the sight of his brother there and alive sent a wave of relief through Sam. Dean was shivering, he noted - probably due partly to the fact that the refrigeration system Bobby had rigged up was still running, and that Dean was naked in the freezing room, since they'd cut his ruined clothes off his corpse. But Sam took in his brother's appearance with a swift glance and decided the shivering was probably also linked to the dazed expression in Dean's eyes. Mental side-effects, the crossroads demon had said. Sam hoped it was nothing worse than shock.
Ruby was standing behind Dean, her knife pressed to his throat.
She looked much the same as she had when they'd left her corpse lying in the woods: horribly pale from bloodloss, blood soaked into her shirt and smeared across her leather jacket. Sam could still see the bullet wound.
"So you tampered with the Colt?" Sam asked, taking a step into the outhouse. His gaze flickered down to Dean, who still hadn't shown any sign of being aware of his presence, and then back up to Ruby.
She grinned at him, cold and malicious. "Well, how many times have you threatened me with it, Sam? I'm not stupid. I wasn't about to hand you a weapon you could use to kill me, not when I knew there was a good chance you'd turn it on me at some point. It looks very convincing, though, doesn't it? Knocks you out cold for an hour or so, seals you in the body you're wearing at the time, but otherwise no permanent damage." She waved the hand not holding the knife dismissively. "I like this body, I don't mind keeping it."
Sam took a step closer. Keep her talking. "So all of the demons and other things I've killed with it... they're still around."
"And taking full advantage of hunters thinking they're dead and gone," Ruby confirmed cheerfully. "It's amazing, the freedom that can give you. Well -" she laughed, gesturing to take in their current situation, "- you can see for yourself what kind of things we can achieve when people assume we're dead."
Sam nodded, darting another look at Dean. His brother was still shivering, but Sam's heart leaped as he realized Dean was looking at him. With confusion, yes, and still not seeming to be fully aware of what was going on, but god, it was good to see recognition in his brother's eyes.
"I don't get what it is you're trying to achieve here, though," he said, trying to keep her attention off Dean.
"The same thing I've always been working towards," Ruby said. "Someone needs to take control, Sam. We're far stronger together than we are separately. When we're all just running around individually, hunters can pick us off, but if we come together... nothing can stand against us."
"And you think threatening my brother's the best way to convince me?" Sam asked sarcastically.
Ruby pressed the knife harder against Dean's throat, and Sam swallowed. "I promise you," she warned, "that even though the Colt may not kill anything but humans, this knife is the real deal. There'll be no way for you to bring him back if I slit his throat."
Dean was frowning; he raised one hand as if to dislodge the knife against his throat, then dropped it again.
"Look," Sam said hastily, before Ruby could get any ideas, "you're too late. I made a deal with the crossroads demon. You wanted me to take control, but I can't any more, I gave up that right. So you might as well put the knife away. I can't do it, even if I wanted to."
Ruby stared at him, then laughed. "And you think it's over? That's it: brother back, destiny sold off, you get to be Joe Normal - well, mostly?"
Sam said nothing, watching her warily. Leaving aside the normal thing, that was more or less what he'd been hoping, though he guessed he should have known it was too much to ask.
"Sam," Dean mumbled.
"I'm here, Dean," Sam said, risking a quick glance away from Ruby. "It's going to be okay, just hang in there."
"It's nowhere near that simple, Sam," Ruby told him. "You may have sold away the right to rule, but you didn't give away your potential. You're the only one left out of your generation of chosen kids, which means the right has now passed on to the next generation. So if you want your brother to keep the life he's just got back, what you're going to do is take out the next generation."
Sam stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
"If you kill them, you win back the right to rule," Ruby said. "I've invested too much time and effort in you to just give up, Sam. It'll take me far too long to train up one of those kids, and they won't be you, with all the advantages you have. By the time I've whipped one of them into shape, it'll be too late - the demons will have adapted to anarchy, and they won't want to follow a child, no matter what powers that child has."
"I'm not going to kill a bunch of kids," Sam said.
"Not even to save your brother's life?" Ruby asked, tightening her grip on the knife. The point broke the surface of Dean's skin, and Sam held his breath as a narrow trickle of blood slid down Dean's neck.
"Wait," he said hastily. "I don't - Ruby, you're not going to gain anything, not even if I did... kill those kids. You're in this for the power, but you can't seriously think I'd give it to you after this?"
Ruby smirked at him. "You'll be amazed at how different the world looks once you've killed them, Sam. Once you accept who you are, everything becomes very simple. I think the only reason you've acted so... stubbornly, even once you started using your powers, is because you weren't the true winner of your generation. That'll change when you do what I tell you." Her voice became steely. "I can give you the names. I think your brother and I will go somewhere nice and private to wait for you."
Sam gritted his teeth. He honestly hadn't thought he'd miss the power to command demons for even a moment, but right now he couldn't help but desperately wish he still had it, at least long enough to take Ruby out. He didn't doubt that she'd use the knife on Dean if he didn't do what she said, purely to spite him.
"Get up," Ruby snapped at Dean, yanking at his arm with her free hand.
Sam forced down his fury and helplessness and tried desperately to think of something he could do.
Dean stumbled to his feet. He still seemed out of it, but the blankness of his expression was increasingly giving way to signs of distress. He bared his teeth as Ruby's knife dug slightly into his throat again, a silent snarl that reminded Sam far too much of Dean as a ghost, reacting to a perceived threat to his brother.
Which meant that Dean might - oh god.
"Okay," Sam said, keeping his tone as soothing as he could for Dean's benefit. "Okay, I'll do what you want. Just - let Dean go first."
Ruby laughed. "Let him go? I told you, Sam, I'm not stupid. He's your weak spot, the best way to get you to do anything. I'll release him once you've done what I want, but not before." Her voice became openly threatening. "And if you try to double-cross me this time, I will cut him open, is that clear? And I'll only start with his throat if I'm feeling generous. Have you got that, Sam?"
Sam didn't have a chance to answer before Dean turned, snarling, and attacked Ruby.
~*~
Nothing made sense.
Dean fought for clarity. Voicespaincoldtouchsensationoverwhelm.
Things only split into separate senses slowly. Touch came back first: cold, biting pain against his throat, rough bench beneath him, harsh floor against his feet. Sight was more confused, but then he realized he was looking at Sam, and that brought things back into more focus. Sound came back in stages. Sam's voice, filled with fury and fear, though Dean couldn't process the words. Something's wrong. And another voice, one Dean dimly felt he should recognize but couldn't place, a voice that threatened.
Threatening Sam, he realized. That was why Sam sounded so upset.
And the pain at his throat, that was coming from the voice too. From... someone behind him.
The voice became even more threatening, and that was enough. Dean didn't let anyone hurt Sam.
There was a sudden sting of pain at his throat as he attacked, but whoever it was clearly hadn't been expecting him to do anything, because Dean managed to knock the threatening voice to the floor, trying to claw and bite at it.
No one gets to attack Sam.
He could hear Sam's voice behind him, and realized in a flicker of clarity that it was his name that Sam was screaming.
Another sudden burst of pain, and Dean suddenly found himself lying on the ground across the room from the owner of the voice. He blinked again, trying to make sense of what was going on, and the world came back into focus in time for him to see Sam flying through the air and smashing hard into a wall, collapsing to the ground.
Sam.
Dean snarled and launched himself at the owner of the threatening voice. She - he'd figured out that much, but the rest was hazy, even though he felt he ought to know more - lashed out at him with something that bit into his hands like the pain he'd felt at his throat earlier.
"Dean!"
He grabbed for it, struggling against her until he managed to wrench the source of the pain from her. And then he struck out at her with it as hard as he could, again and again, until she stopped fighting him, stopped trying to attack Sam.
"Dean. Dean. Stop, you can stop now, c'mon -"
Sam.
Dean dropped the - weapon? weapon - and turned to Sam, blinking to try to bring him into focus. Sam sounded... upset but relieved, and not angry, not at him. He sounded alive and real and oh god, Dean needed him.
"C'mon, come here," Sam was murmuring. "I got you, it's okay now -"
Okay now. Sam's here.
Dean crawled to his brother and buried his face against Sam's neck, soaking up the sound of his heartbeat, and let the world of confusion slip away around him.
~*~
Sam clung to his brother, running a hand through Dean's hair, trying to make his heartbeat settle back down by listening to Dean's.
Oh god, Dean's heartbeat. He's alive.
It was almost impossible to take in. Dean was clinging to him in almost exactly the same way as he had when he was a ghost, but Sam could feel Dean's heartbeat, and his brother's skin was real against his own. Dean might be out of it and too cold and bleeding, but he was alive.
He tried not to look at Ruby's corpse. It looked like she hadn't been lying when she'd said that the knife was the real deal. She'd just miscalculated what Dean was capable of, even in shock, when he thought Sam was in danger.
The door suddenly swung open and Sam snapped his head up, already bracing for a new threat, only to sag with relief at the sight of Bobby standing in the doorway, gun in hand. He hadn't had much opportunity to think about what Ruby might have done to Bobby, but he was beyond grateful that she hadn't simply killed him.
Bobby's jaw worked for a moment as he took in the scene, and Sam flushed slightly at the realization of how he and Dean probably looked to an outsider. Then Bobby said, "You need some help getting him inside? He'll catch his d- " He cleared his throat and rephrased. "That is, it's goddamn freezing in here."
Sam laughed, hearing hysteria creeping in around the edges, and clutched Dean a bit tighter. He felt reluctant to let anyone else touch Dean, but he knew Bobby was right: his brother needed to be moved somewhere warmer and more comfortable. And preferably less bloodstained.
"Yeah," he said. "Thanks, Bobby. You okay?"
Bobby's eyes returned to Dean. "Yeah, I'm good."
They moved Dean straight to bed, in the end; now that the threat was gone, Dean seemed mostly unaware of his surroundings again, simply clinging to Sam. They took a quick glance at his neck and hands, where Ruby had cut him with her knife, but decided it was nothing that couldn't wait until the next day.
Sam settled into bed with Dean: even if his brother had seemed willing to relax his grip on him, there would have been no way Sam would have left him. Bobby backed up to the bedroom door.
"Shout if you need anything," he said quietly.
Sam glanced down at Dean and half-smiled at Bobby. "I'm good."
Bobby grinned back and went out, closing the door quietly behind him. Sam heard him whistling as he went back down the stairs.
He lay in bed and held onto his brother, and finally let the relief come flooding in. They'd done it. Dean was going to live, and surely by morning - please, god - he'd be nearly back to normal. And then...
Well, then would take care of itself. Sam forced all the ugly things the crossroads demon had said to him to the back of his mind. Whatever happened next, whatever Dean decided, Sam was lucky. He wrapped his arm across Dean's chest and tangled their legs together, and did his best to simply enjoy the moment.
He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes, the room was grey with pre-dawn light, and Dean was staring up at him.
Sam felt his heartbeat jump. Was Dean... aware? Was he...
"Dean?" he whispered.
Dean was looking at him, really looking at him. "Sam."
Sam felt the hysteria catching up with him, tears welling. Oh god, he's really going to be okay.
"Hey," Dean said, nudging him before he could lose it completely. "So my death's worth breaking out the good whiskey for, but my resurrection isn't? A guy could take that personally."
Sam was surprised into a laugh, then found he couldn't stop. He buried his head against Dean's neck, not quite sure whether he was laughing or crying.
Dean's arms came up around him, a hand stroking at the nape of his neck, and Sam held on.
Epilogue
Rating: R
Pairing: Eventual Sam/Dean
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: 71,678 words for the fic as a whole.
Betas: So, so much love to zooey_glass04 and aynslee, beta readers and Ameripickers extraordinaire, for all their awesomeness and hand-holding. Thank you, darlings! <333
Notes: This is the fic I wrote during Nano 2007; I had only seen up to episode 3.04 (Sin City) at the time. This is therefore set post-3.04 and contains spoilers only up to that point; of course, it has now been completely overtaken by canon and is officially AU. The fic is now complete; there is an epilogue after this chapter, which is being posted simultaneously. \0/
Summary: "No," Sam repeated. "No, I'm not giving up on you. This is not over yet."
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
The Impala skidded around a corner, and Dean had to bite his tongue to hold back the warning that sprang to his lips. He didn't quite dare to threaten Sam for treating his car that way, though, not when Sam was like this.
Sam's face was set, a faint frown of concentration the only sign Dean had that his brother was even still thinking about whatever crazy stunt he had planned. Dean was getting seriously worried about what exactly that might be.
"Sam," he ventured cautiously. When his brother kept on staring straight ahead at the road without speaking, Dean raised his voice. "Sammy."
"Don't," Sam said tersely.
"No, see, that's my line," Dean told him. "Whatever the hell you're thinking of doing -"
"I know what I'm doing, Dean," Sam said quietly. "Trust me."
They didn't often say that to each other. Some things were too fundamental to need to be discussed. And Dean did trust Sam, he really did. He trusted Sam to find a way to bring him back - and that was what worried him. What he didn't trust was Sam's ability to find a way to do it without getting himself killed.
Dean shut up. Better to save his ammunition for a battle it looked like he could win. And his energy. The night was wearing on, and he could feel the world starting to turn strange and faded around him. He was starting to slip again, and though he still had a little time left before he lost himself, he needed to start conserving his strength.
Sam braked hard, and Dean couldn't stop himself from cursing this time as the car came to a screeching halt at the side of the road. His anger at the mistreatment of the Impala faded, however, when he realized that Sam had stopped just a few feet away from where another road met the one they were on.
"No," Dean said sharply. "Sam, don't -"
Last time Sam had stopped at a crossroads, he'd been unable to see or hear Dean's protests. For all the attention Sam was paying this time, Dean thought acidly as his brother got out of the car, he might as well still be invisible.
He hurried after his brother, picking up his pace when he realized that Sam wasn't pausing to collect the box they'd used in the past to summon the demon, but instead heading straight for the center of the crossroads.
"Sam -" Dean said, feeling panic creeping in. "Sammy, please, don't -"
Sam swung round to meet his eyes, and Dean felt his words die under his brother's gaze.
"I need to," Sam said, his voice almost inaudible.
Their gazes held for a long moment, all the things they never bothered putting into words hanging between them, and Dean closed his mouth, swallowing hard. He'd always known Sam loved him; he'd just never quite understood that Sam genuinely felt just as strongly as Dean did about him. He really wished he could have found out some other way.
Sam tilted his head up to look at the sky, and called out in a hard-edged tone, "I summon you!"
Dean held his breath. He'd kind of assumed that Sam would need her name in order to summon her, but he could hear the whip-crack of command in Sam's voice which he'd long since learned meant that his brother was putting the whammy on someone, so maybe that was enough.
And it seemed to be, because the demon was suddenly standing at the center of the crossroads, just a few feet away from Sam.
Dean had to fight to stop himself from developing claws in reaction to the threat he knew she posed to Sam. He made himself concentrate on her appearance, instead. Ruby had been wrong about her possessing someone who looked like Jessica, because she was a dazzling brunette again, but perhaps that was just because Sam hadn't given her enough time to pick out someone suitable to wear. Her face was drawn into lines of cold fury, and Dean caught his breath at the realization that Sam had managed to compel her, even though he'd said he wasn't strong enough.
"I seem to recall warning you not to try that on me again," the demon said. Her eyes flashed red for a moment before she seemed to get her fury back under control. "You're lucky I was feeling generous enough to come anyway, Sam Winchester."
Bullshit, Dean thought. He forced you. He restrained the urge to move across and stand beside his brother: this was Sam's show, much as Dean might wish otherwise, and he wasn't about to risk distracting him or weakening his position.
Sam didn't seem interested in engaging with her bullshit, which Dean approved of, at least. "I want my brother back."
The demon sighed over-dramatically. "This again? You Winchesters are all the same. It really is starting to get boring."
"I want you to bring him back," Sam said again steadily.
She laughed. "That's not all you want, is it, Sam? All those pent-up longings you never knew you harbored, all those dark little secrets you kept even from your own subconscious... It must have come as shock, realizing the kind of cesspit you have inside of you. And now you want him back to unleash all of that on him?" Her smile was vicious. "I can understand why you'd finally be willing to make a deal now, though." She lowered her voice, mock-conspiratorially. "Those claws are a real turn-off, I bet."
Dean had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shifting into claws, and only just managed to choke down the furious retort on his lips. Sam knew better than to listen to her bullshit, and Dean wasn't going to play into her hands by interrupting.
Sam remained silent, his jaw clenched tightly.
"So tell me, Sam," the demon said, "did you really bring me here for a reason, or are you just wasting my time again? Because you might be able to compel me into appearing, but breaking a deal? Trust me, you don't stand a chance. And as much fun as it always is to see you and Dean, I do have other things to do with my time."
"I know I can't compel you," Sam said. "That's not why I'm here. I want to make a deal - two of them, actually."
Fuck, Dean thought. "Oh fuck, Sam, please, no," he said, before he'd even realized he was speaking aloud.
She turned her gaze on him, her eyes sparkling. "Runs in the family, huh, Dean? It must just be killing you - all over again - to stand there and know you can't interfere." She smiled at him maliciously before returning her attention to Sam. "The thing is, Sam, you don't have two souls to sell. You might be able to arrange one deal, if I'm feeling very generous, but not two."
She took a step towards Sam and lowered her voice. "If you want him back... I could do that. He'd have three weeks of life. There's a lot he could do in three weeks. And I could be persuaded to give you those three weeks with him and collect you both at the same time. Of course... there is the risk that he wouldn't want you, once he was back in his body and no longer half-insane. He might not cling to you quite as much when you're not the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's amazing what kinds of deviant behavior people can be coerced into when they're vulnerable, isn't it? Then again, maybe he won't even remember that you took advantage once he's back in his body. Who knows?" She laughed. "I guess that's the kind of risk you take for people you love, isn't it, Sam?"
Dean couldn't stop himself from hissing, could feel his teeth lengthening as rage coursed through him.
Sam didn't look in his direction, but Dean saw his throat working before he spoke. "My soul isn't what I had in mind."
"Oh, please," she said dismissively. "What else could you possibly have that would interest me?"
"I've got the ability to compel you," Sam said.
The demon's smile faded. "I already told you that you're not strong enough to force me to break a deal."
"I know," Sam agreed. "But we both know I did compel you to come here. And I forced you to appear for our last meeting, too, didn't I? I just didn't realize it at the time. So I already have the ability to make your existence... less than enjoyable. And I'm only going to get stronger." He smiled grimly. "You don't like taking orders, you've made that very clear. And I think that it might fuck things up for you a bit if I start summoning you back every time you try to leave these crossroads. Being trapped here with me until I die... You've gotten a lot of entertainment out of my family, but I don't think you'd find that too much fun."
She stared at him for a moment, then started to smile. "Well, well, well. Maybe you're a bit more interesting than I thought. But I think you're bluffing, Sam. I don't think you're strong enough to pull that off, not yet."
"Kneel," Sam commanded, his voice deepening.
Dean watched with savage satisfaction as she struggled against the order but slowly sank down to her knees, snarling at Sam, all her playful amusement stripped away. Sam smiled at her, cold and hard.
"You've made your point," she ground out through gritted teeth. "Let me up."
"In a moment, maybe," Sam said. "Are you willing to deal?"
She glared at him, but Dean knew she had no other choice, and she seemed to recognize that too, however reluctantly. "Yes."
"Then you can stand up again, if you want," Sam said casually.
Dean grinned as she got to her feet. There was grey dust from the road smeared across her black dress, and it was hugely satisfying to see her look less than perfect.
"Fine," she said, her voice tight with fury. "I'll bring your brother back. And in exchange you'll be bound from compelling me. Deal?"
"Bring him back and heal his body," Sam specified. "Make sure he doesn't suffer any after-effects from all of this."
She glared at him. "The physical side of things I can take care of. Mental side-effects are out of my hands, though."
Sam looked at her for a moment, but seemed to conclude she was being truthful, because he nodded. "Okay, then. Deal." He turned his head in Dean's direction, as if about to say something, but before he had the chance the demon was kissing him.
Dean barely had a chance to snarl at that before everything went dark.
~*~
Sam yanked his head away from the demon, grimacing. She took a step back, her eyes hard.
He ignored her and looked around. There was no sign of Dean. "Where is he?" he demanded, turning back to her.
She looked at him contemptuously. "We made a deal. He's back in that body you want so badly, just like we agreed."
Sam gritted his teeth. She had a real fucking talent for picking away at his weak spots, but he was damned if he was going to give her the reaction she was looking for. "Fine. Then let's move on to the second deal. I want you to release Dean from the deal he made with you. No year limit, no claim on his soul - he's free."
"And what can you offer me for that?" the demon demanded. "Because you're asking me to give up a lot. Why should I?"
Sam took a deep breath. "Because in return I'll give you the Colt." He took it out and balanced it on his palm for her to see.
The demon stared at it, then at him. And then she burst out laughing.
Sam swallowed and waited. Mind games. Don't fall for it.
"I don't believe it," the demon said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oh, Sam. Are you really that naive? You really haven't figured it out?" She threw her head back and laughed again.
Mind games, Sam reminded himself again, but with less conviction this time. Something about the way she was laughing - more sheer amusement than maliciousness - struck him as genuine.
"Sorry, Sam," she said, almost fondly, "I'm afraid I'm not interested in your toy gun. If I want flashy light effects, I can make my own. It's not even worth a kiss, let alone a deal." She smiled at him and turned away, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm still willing to give you three weeks in exchange for your soul, though. You still get the time with your brother, but you're the only one who has to go to hell at the end of it. That'd be fairer, wouldn't it? Since you're the reason he made the deal in the first place?"
Sam was still trying to absorb the implications of what she'd said about the Colt, but he shoved that aside, tucking the gun away again and concentrating on the real problem. Her offer was almost tempting, even if it would only give him three weeks. He would only have three weeks with Dean anyway, as things stood, and this way... There was an appropriate kind of symmetry to it. And he'd had a taste now of what it would be like to lose Dean, and it was something he really didn't want to go through again.
But he couldn't do that to Dean, either.
"No deal," he forced himself to say, and swallowed hard. We've got three weeks. That's still enough time to come up with another way.
"Too bad," the demon said and smiled. "Nice doing business with you, Sam. Enjoy your brother's last three weeks." She turned away again.
"Wait!" Sam said hastily, a thought occurring to him.
"You can't compel me, not any more," the demon said, throwing a malicious grin at him over her shoulder. "Forgotten so soon?"
"I wasn't trying to," Sam said, playing for time as his thoughts raced. "I was... requesting that you wait for a moment. Because I still have something else to offer you in exchange for Dean's soul."
She laughed, turning properly to face him. "Oh, what will it be this time? Another shiny piece of scrap metal, maybe?"
"No," Sam said slowly. "I can offer you freedom."
She eyed him thoughtfully. "I have freedom, and you've already given up your ability to compel me."
"But it goes further than that, what I can do, doesn't it?" Sam said, still figuring it out as he went along. "Ruby didn't just want me to compel individual demons, she wanted me to command them. To rule them. When Azazel died, that... potential passed to me."
"That hardly affects me now you can't control me," the demon said dismissively.
"Now who's being naive?" Sam asked, feeling a smile tug at his lips. "If I'm in control of every other demon, do you really think what I can do with that power won't affect you? I could send them after you. I could give others power over the crossroads. I could have you confined. The possibilities are endless."
The demon stared at him. "You wouldn't. You've fought it every step of the way."
"I have," Sam agreed. "But if my brother's in hell, well... that rather gives me an incentive to be the one running the place, doesn't it? I don't want to do it, no. I don't deny that. But I'd be prepared to do it if I had to."
"What are you proposing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
"You release Dean from his deal, like I said," Sam said. "And I give up my right to rule - my ability to order demons around and everything else it entails. We both get what we want. You get to profit from the lack of clear command structures to go your own way." He paused, then added as an afterthought, "And you don't need to worry about having Ruby in power over you."
The demon gave a twisted smile. "A compelling argument, I'll grant you that." She eyed him for a moment longer, as if sizing him up, and Sam held his breath and tried to look confident. He wasn't entirely sure himself whether or not he was bluffing. And he really hoped he wouldn't be forced to find out.
"Deal," she said finally, and grabbed his hair to yank him down painfully into a kiss.
Sam was half-expecting to feel different when she released him, like something was missing inside him, but there was nothing.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Sam Winchester," the demon said, smiling almost seductively at him and touching a finger to his lips fleetingly.
Sam took a sharp step back. "Dean's free?"
"He's all yours," she said, and smiled cruelly. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that." She vanished before he could formulate a retort, leaving him staring around at the deserted crossroads.
He'd done it. He'd actually done it. But Sam couldn't find it in himself to celebrate yet. Quite apart from the misgivings he still had about what the demon had said about the Colt, part of him wouldn't believe that his brother was back until he could see Dean for himself, wouldn't stop worrying until the three weeks were past and Dean really was still there.
As if it had heard his thoughts, his cell phone rang. Sam reached into his pocket and hastily pulled it out.
Dean, the display blinked.
The wave of relief that hit him was so strong that it took Sam a moment to press the receive button. "Dean?" He couldn't suppress the eagerness in his voice, but he figured his brother owed him some slack for a chick-flick moment right now.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Sam. Dean's not feeling too talkative right now," Ruby said, and the line went dead.
~*~
The Impala's wheels were loud on the gravel as Sam pulled the car up in front of Bobby's house. The house itself was in darkness, confirming his suspicion that Ruby had managed to take Bobby out of the equation before she'd gone after Dean.
Sam couldn't let himself think about that now; much as it went against the grain, he didn't have time to go check on Bobby. He jumped out of the car and headed in the direction of the outhouse where they'd stored Dean's body.
He didn't bother trying to stay quiet enough to sneak up without being heard: he knew the sound of the car roaring up to the house would have destroyed any element of surprise he might have had, but there just hadn't been time to leave it further away. Besides, Ruby knew he was coming, was counting on it. She wouldn't have called him from Dean's cell if she hadn't wanted to lure him here.
He pulled out his gun as he reached the outhouse, and grimaced at the realization that he was still carrying the Colt. Which was apparently worse than useless. He eased the safety off anyway, and kicked the door open.
"Hi, Sam," Ruby said. "Took you long enough to get here."
Sam ignored her, his eyes focused on his brother. Dean was sitting on the bench at the end of the tiny outhouse, and the sight of his brother there and alive sent a wave of relief through Sam. Dean was shivering, he noted - probably due partly to the fact that the refrigeration system Bobby had rigged up was still running, and that Dean was naked in the freezing room, since they'd cut his ruined clothes off his corpse. But Sam took in his brother's appearance with a swift glance and decided the shivering was probably also linked to the dazed expression in Dean's eyes. Mental side-effects, the crossroads demon had said. Sam hoped it was nothing worse than shock.
Ruby was standing behind Dean, her knife pressed to his throat.
She looked much the same as she had when they'd left her corpse lying in the woods: horribly pale from bloodloss, blood soaked into her shirt and smeared across her leather jacket. Sam could still see the bullet wound.
"So you tampered with the Colt?" Sam asked, taking a step into the outhouse. His gaze flickered down to Dean, who still hadn't shown any sign of being aware of his presence, and then back up to Ruby.
She grinned at him, cold and malicious. "Well, how many times have you threatened me with it, Sam? I'm not stupid. I wasn't about to hand you a weapon you could use to kill me, not when I knew there was a good chance you'd turn it on me at some point. It looks very convincing, though, doesn't it? Knocks you out cold for an hour or so, seals you in the body you're wearing at the time, but otherwise no permanent damage." She waved the hand not holding the knife dismissively. "I like this body, I don't mind keeping it."
Sam took a step closer. Keep her talking. "So all of the demons and other things I've killed with it... they're still around."
"And taking full advantage of hunters thinking they're dead and gone," Ruby confirmed cheerfully. "It's amazing, the freedom that can give you. Well -" she laughed, gesturing to take in their current situation, "- you can see for yourself what kind of things we can achieve when people assume we're dead."
Sam nodded, darting another look at Dean. His brother was still shivering, but Sam's heart leaped as he realized Dean was looking at him. With confusion, yes, and still not seeming to be fully aware of what was going on, but god, it was good to see recognition in his brother's eyes.
"I don't get what it is you're trying to achieve here, though," he said, trying to keep her attention off Dean.
"The same thing I've always been working towards," Ruby said. "Someone needs to take control, Sam. We're far stronger together than we are separately. When we're all just running around individually, hunters can pick us off, but if we come together... nothing can stand against us."
"And you think threatening my brother's the best way to convince me?" Sam asked sarcastically.
Ruby pressed the knife harder against Dean's throat, and Sam swallowed. "I promise you," she warned, "that even though the Colt may not kill anything but humans, this knife is the real deal. There'll be no way for you to bring him back if I slit his throat."
Dean was frowning; he raised one hand as if to dislodge the knife against his throat, then dropped it again.
"Look," Sam said hastily, before Ruby could get any ideas, "you're too late. I made a deal with the crossroads demon. You wanted me to take control, but I can't any more, I gave up that right. So you might as well put the knife away. I can't do it, even if I wanted to."
Ruby stared at him, then laughed. "And you think it's over? That's it: brother back, destiny sold off, you get to be Joe Normal - well, mostly?"
Sam said nothing, watching her warily. Leaving aside the normal thing, that was more or less what he'd been hoping, though he guessed he should have known it was too much to ask.
"Sam," Dean mumbled.
"I'm here, Dean," Sam said, risking a quick glance away from Ruby. "It's going to be okay, just hang in there."
"It's nowhere near that simple, Sam," Ruby told him. "You may have sold away the right to rule, but you didn't give away your potential. You're the only one left out of your generation of chosen kids, which means the right has now passed on to the next generation. So if you want your brother to keep the life he's just got back, what you're going to do is take out the next generation."
Sam stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
"If you kill them, you win back the right to rule," Ruby said. "I've invested too much time and effort in you to just give up, Sam. It'll take me far too long to train up one of those kids, and they won't be you, with all the advantages you have. By the time I've whipped one of them into shape, it'll be too late - the demons will have adapted to anarchy, and they won't want to follow a child, no matter what powers that child has."
"I'm not going to kill a bunch of kids," Sam said.
"Not even to save your brother's life?" Ruby asked, tightening her grip on the knife. The point broke the surface of Dean's skin, and Sam held his breath as a narrow trickle of blood slid down Dean's neck.
"Wait," he said hastily. "I don't - Ruby, you're not going to gain anything, not even if I did... kill those kids. You're in this for the power, but you can't seriously think I'd give it to you after this?"
Ruby smirked at him. "You'll be amazed at how different the world looks once you've killed them, Sam. Once you accept who you are, everything becomes very simple. I think the only reason you've acted so... stubbornly, even once you started using your powers, is because you weren't the true winner of your generation. That'll change when you do what I tell you." Her voice became steely. "I can give you the names. I think your brother and I will go somewhere nice and private to wait for you."
Sam gritted his teeth. He honestly hadn't thought he'd miss the power to command demons for even a moment, but right now he couldn't help but desperately wish he still had it, at least long enough to take Ruby out. He didn't doubt that she'd use the knife on Dean if he didn't do what she said, purely to spite him.
"Get up," Ruby snapped at Dean, yanking at his arm with her free hand.
Sam forced down his fury and helplessness and tried desperately to think of something he could do.
Dean stumbled to his feet. He still seemed out of it, but the blankness of his expression was increasingly giving way to signs of distress. He bared his teeth as Ruby's knife dug slightly into his throat again, a silent snarl that reminded Sam far too much of Dean as a ghost, reacting to a perceived threat to his brother.
Which meant that Dean might - oh god.
"Okay," Sam said, keeping his tone as soothing as he could for Dean's benefit. "Okay, I'll do what you want. Just - let Dean go first."
Ruby laughed. "Let him go? I told you, Sam, I'm not stupid. He's your weak spot, the best way to get you to do anything. I'll release him once you've done what I want, but not before." Her voice became openly threatening. "And if you try to double-cross me this time, I will cut him open, is that clear? And I'll only start with his throat if I'm feeling generous. Have you got that, Sam?"
Sam didn't have a chance to answer before Dean turned, snarling, and attacked Ruby.
~*~
Nothing made sense.
Dean fought for clarity. Voicespaincoldtouchsensationoverwhelm.
Things only split into separate senses slowly. Touch came back first: cold, biting pain against his throat, rough bench beneath him, harsh floor against his feet. Sight was more confused, but then he realized he was looking at Sam, and that brought things back into more focus. Sound came back in stages. Sam's voice, filled with fury and fear, though Dean couldn't process the words. Something's wrong. And another voice, one Dean dimly felt he should recognize but couldn't place, a voice that threatened.
Threatening Sam, he realized. That was why Sam sounded so upset.
And the pain at his throat, that was coming from the voice too. From... someone behind him.
The voice became even more threatening, and that was enough. Dean didn't let anyone hurt Sam.
There was a sudden sting of pain at his throat as he attacked, but whoever it was clearly hadn't been expecting him to do anything, because Dean managed to knock the threatening voice to the floor, trying to claw and bite at it.
No one gets to attack Sam.
He could hear Sam's voice behind him, and realized in a flicker of clarity that it was his name that Sam was screaming.
Another sudden burst of pain, and Dean suddenly found himself lying on the ground across the room from the owner of the voice. He blinked again, trying to make sense of what was going on, and the world came back into focus in time for him to see Sam flying through the air and smashing hard into a wall, collapsing to the ground.
Sam.
Dean snarled and launched himself at the owner of the threatening voice. She - he'd figured out that much, but the rest was hazy, even though he felt he ought to know more - lashed out at him with something that bit into his hands like the pain he'd felt at his throat earlier.
"Dean!"
He grabbed for it, struggling against her until he managed to wrench the source of the pain from her. And then he struck out at her with it as hard as he could, again and again, until she stopped fighting him, stopped trying to attack Sam.
"Dean. Dean. Stop, you can stop now, c'mon -"
Sam.
Dean dropped the - weapon? weapon - and turned to Sam, blinking to try to bring him into focus. Sam sounded... upset but relieved, and not angry, not at him. He sounded alive and real and oh god, Dean needed him.
"C'mon, come here," Sam was murmuring. "I got you, it's okay now -"
Okay now. Sam's here.
Dean crawled to his brother and buried his face against Sam's neck, soaking up the sound of his heartbeat, and let the world of confusion slip away around him.
~*~
Sam clung to his brother, running a hand through Dean's hair, trying to make his heartbeat settle back down by listening to Dean's.
Oh god, Dean's heartbeat. He's alive.
It was almost impossible to take in. Dean was clinging to him in almost exactly the same way as he had when he was a ghost, but Sam could feel Dean's heartbeat, and his brother's skin was real against his own. Dean might be out of it and too cold and bleeding, but he was alive.
He tried not to look at Ruby's corpse. It looked like she hadn't been lying when she'd said that the knife was the real deal. She'd just miscalculated what Dean was capable of, even in shock, when he thought Sam was in danger.
The door suddenly swung open and Sam snapped his head up, already bracing for a new threat, only to sag with relief at the sight of Bobby standing in the doorway, gun in hand. He hadn't had much opportunity to think about what Ruby might have done to Bobby, but he was beyond grateful that she hadn't simply killed him.
Bobby's jaw worked for a moment as he took in the scene, and Sam flushed slightly at the realization of how he and Dean probably looked to an outsider. Then Bobby said, "You need some help getting him inside? He'll catch his d- " He cleared his throat and rephrased. "That is, it's goddamn freezing in here."
Sam laughed, hearing hysteria creeping in around the edges, and clutched Dean a bit tighter. He felt reluctant to let anyone else touch Dean, but he knew Bobby was right: his brother needed to be moved somewhere warmer and more comfortable. And preferably less bloodstained.
"Yeah," he said. "Thanks, Bobby. You okay?"
Bobby's eyes returned to Dean. "Yeah, I'm good."
They moved Dean straight to bed, in the end; now that the threat was gone, Dean seemed mostly unaware of his surroundings again, simply clinging to Sam. They took a quick glance at his neck and hands, where Ruby had cut him with her knife, but decided it was nothing that couldn't wait until the next day.
Sam settled into bed with Dean: even if his brother had seemed willing to relax his grip on him, there would have been no way Sam would have left him. Bobby backed up to the bedroom door.
"Shout if you need anything," he said quietly.
Sam glanced down at Dean and half-smiled at Bobby. "I'm good."
Bobby grinned back and went out, closing the door quietly behind him. Sam heard him whistling as he went back down the stairs.
He lay in bed and held onto his brother, and finally let the relief come flooding in. They'd done it. Dean was going to live, and surely by morning - please, god - he'd be nearly back to normal. And then...
Well, then would take care of itself. Sam forced all the ugly things the crossroads demon had said to him to the back of his mind. Whatever happened next, whatever Dean decided, Sam was lucky. He wrapped his arm across Dean's chest and tangled their legs together, and did his best to simply enjoy the moment.
He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes, the room was grey with pre-dawn light, and Dean was staring up at him.
Sam felt his heartbeat jump. Was Dean... aware? Was he...
"Dean?" he whispered.
Dean was looking at him, really looking at him. "Sam."
Sam felt the hysteria catching up with him, tears welling. Oh god, he's really going to be okay.
"Hey," Dean said, nudging him before he could lose it completely. "So my death's worth breaking out the good whiskey for, but my resurrection isn't? A guy could take that personally."
Sam was surprised into a laugh, then found he couldn't stop. He buried his head against Dean's neck, not quite sure whether he was laughing or crying.
Dean's arms came up around him, a hand stroking at the nape of his neck, and Sam held on.
Epilogue