Nebraska Ch. 5
Fanfic: Nebraska
Author: sandymg
Summary: Lucifer tempts Sam. Dean’s life (and afterlife) hang in the balance. The iPod reappears. And it’s possibly the end of the world as we know it. Not necessarily in this order.
Wordcount: 10,321 in 5 chapters so far -- Work in progress Complete
Spoilers: Set in Season 5. Assumes all canon through Changing Channels 5x08. References to Faith 1x12 and The Magnificent Seven 3x01
Genre: Gen, angst, Sick!Dean, hurt/comfort
Characters: Sam, Dean, Assorted others (all canon)
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.
A/N: This story will run 7 chapters and will update quickly is now COMPLETE
Chapters: [ 4], [ 3], [ 2], [ 1]
Chapter 5 - California Dreamer
Dean would not consider saying yes to Michael and Sam wanted to trounce him in frustration. To his credit his brother had asked if the research with Tamara had unearthed anything. Cas had stared at him then, navy eyes intense. Knowing. Did he really think that Sam would slaughter a baby in cold blood. He remembered the nurse, Lilith’s helper, begging, pleading … this was different. The blood had changed him then, twisted him inside until he no longer knew who he was. Now he knew. No, Cas … I’m not going to kill a child.
There was just so much he could tell Dean. “This … spell is very dark Dean. A spell to undo it would have to be just as dark.”
It’s all the explanation his brother needed. He’d been around enough to know what that meant.
He tried again. “Dean. Maybe you could talk to Michael.”
“The sonofabitch hasn’t shown yet.”
Sam turned to Castiel.
“I believe he would come if Dean said yes,” the angel said.
“You believe? You don’t even know that?!”
“Most likely,” he said solemnly.
Again that smash his head against the wall feeling came back. He paced and ran his hands through his hair. Dean looked worse than he’d ever seen him. Well, alive, that was. Even after the Rawhead that had landed him in this godforsaken state four years ago he looked better than he did now. Bobby had said three days. He doubted it would go two. There had to be a way. He was missing something.
“Sam,” Dean said drawing his attention back the gaunt figure on the bed. “You haven’t slept in 24 hours. You need to rest.”
“I can rest when you’re okay,” he argued.
Castiel approached him. Uncharacteristically invaded his space the way he often did with Dean. “Your brother is right. You can’t help anyone if you fall ill yourself. I will stay with Dean. Sleep. I promise Dean will be here when you awake.”
The two men stared at each other. That’s a promise that the angel better not break. Understanding flowed between them. He sat next to Dean feeling for a fever with his palm. Not too bad, warm, but not hot. That calmed him some. Their eyes caught and a thousand words wanted to tumble out. A thousand apologies for all his wrongs. He wanted to beg him not to die. To hold him and not let go. To cry. Instead, he stood and walked to the other bed.
Sam stretched out thinking that it would be impossible to fall asleep. He was wrong.
***
Hello Sam.
A moment of disorientation led to clarity. I’m dreaming.
Yes. You’re troubled. Tell me why.
Go away.
Lucifer stood in Nick’s body, the one he said wouldn’t hold him forever and paced slowly to the other side of the bed. Alarmed Sam bolted up. But Dean wasn’t on the other bed. Castiel was gone. They were alone in the room. It’s just a dream, he reminded himself. His brother was fine. Castiel would take care of him. This gave him comfort.
Since the fallen angel clearly wasn’t going to accept his earlier command he tried another question. What do you want?
I thought we’d already established that. That soft almost grin appeared again. Your brother is dying.
If you already know this then why ask me what’s wrong?
Lucifer smiled, twisting Nick’s soft lips upward gently.
Words. It’s all he has. Let him talk. Maybe he’ll say something useful. Something they can use strategically one day.
Have you asked my brothers’ to help Dean?
Sam squirmed a bit and wondered what to say.
Of course you have. But they turned you down, right?
True, but he wasn’t going to admit this to Lucifer. The fallen angel tilted his head. A trait so similar to the way Cas moved it jolted Sam.
My brother Michael could heal your brother.
If Dean accepts him.
Well, yes.
Sam waited, suspecting what was coming.
Sam. I might be able to help as well.
Even expecting it his heart lurched.
You can cure Dean?
Lucifer gazed at him pityingly. He knew how naked he was right then, how desperate he must sound.
No Sam. I’m sorry. It’s not that I wouldn’t. I would. For you. But I was unclear. Only Michael can cure Dean. I meant that I could … we could … get Dean to say yes. So that Michael can save him.
Now Sam was confused. Their screwed up family made his own look like the Brady Bunch.
I don’t understand.
Lucifer sighed and gazed at him softly. It was disorienting that gaze. Not predatory. Loving. He blinked and broke eye contact.
Dean will not say yes and he will die. Unless your brother has a reason to say yes. There is only one reason Sam. You know this. Only one person he’d do this for ... It’s not humanity. Not the world. Not any angel in heaven or on earth.
Me. He’d say yes to save me.
Another soft smile. It was true, Sam knew. If Dean thought he could save him there likely wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give up. He’d already given up his life, would it be harder to give up his body?
Will you tell him you’ll kill me if he doesn’t say yes?
Lucifer looked at him like he was a small boy having trouble in class. I won’t kill you Sam. I need you. You are my chosen one. We have a great future ahead of us, together. The fallen angel sighed again.
Families are difficult. They fight. But they love each other. So it is for me. I loved my brothers, my Father, more than anything. You know what that’s like. I can feel it in you. If you say yes to me then Dean will say yes to Michael. He will foolishly think he has to kill you to save you. But that’s a lie Sam. They are lying to you both. I miss my brother, Sam. Remember that? Remember those days in school when you ached for him until you thought your heart would crumble? It’s the same for us. I only want us to … be together again.
He’s insane. Satan was insane. If giggling had been appropriate he would have burst into a spray long before now.
You want me to say yes to you not so you can rule the world but so that you can have a family reunion?
Well, we shall also rule the world. But it will be glorious. As it should have been before …
Before humans, Sam thought but didn’t volunteer. His head was reeling. In between all the crazy banter there was a kernel of truth. If he said yes then Dean might very well accept Michael. And he’d live. As an angel condom. The world would burn and humanity wouldn’t stand a chance.
He was not considering this. He wasn’t.
They lie Sam. They don’t trust you. You know this, right? Did they tell you where he’d go after he dies?
Sam looked at him, rising from the bed to take advantage of his height, his physicality. Irrational in a dream but it still soothed.
Where he’ll go? Flashes of red stripes filled his vision suddenly. You can’t possibly mean Hell?
The smile widened. Ah. I can’t tell you that. Not because I don’t want to. Truth is, I don’t know. I’d bet my brothers would tell you otherwise. Promise up and down that, yes, your brother will go to Heaven. But that’s a lie Sam. I don’t lie.
Why wouldn’t he go to Heaven?
I didn’t say he wouldn’t Sam. I said I didn’t know.
God, was it possible? After everything could Dean end up back in the pit? With a stone in his stomach he remembered his brother’s tears as he told him he’d liked torturing those souls. Going back would destroy him completely. Even if it were possible there would be nothing left to save.
Because of what he did? What they made him do? He hated the warble in his voice but didn’t know how to stop it.
My Father … can be hard … rigid … dare I say unforgiving at times. He paused. Sometimes fathers can be like this.
Sam blanched at this. His father wasn’t perfect but he forgave. So would God.
Ah, it’s difficult, I know. One always wants to think the best. But there are rules. What your brother did in my home. It makes him unwelcome elsewhere.
This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t facing the same impossible scenario all over again. He seized on something that Lucifer had said.
You said you didn’t know. He may not go to Hell. Who knows then? Who would know where he’d end up?
Our Father. The decision is already made but we aren’t told. He doesn’t speak to us anymore. He’s away. Absent. You remember what that’s like, right Sam?
Rigid. Hard. Unforgiving. If you leave this house don’t ever come back. Sam’s legs felt weak and it was all he had to stay standing. It ceased being a question in his mind. If Dean died he’d be back in … Lucifer eyed him carefully. Steady expression. Never feral. Never mean. He approached him slowly, arms spread, palms up.
Sam. I’m sorry. I am. I believed it was your right to know all the facts before you say your last goodbyes to your brother. Our Fathers … they tried … we know this … but they weren’t always right, were they? And as for my brothers. I wish they were honest with you. At least you know I always will be.
Maybe … maybe Dean won’t. You don’t know …
No. I admitted as much. I don’t know. But Sam there are millennia of precedence.
This time his legs did give out and he sat back on his bed. Lucifer sat beside him.
Sam. You love him so much. I know how this is. How it hurts. Your brother who’d do anything for you. My Father won’t help him. But you can. You don’t have to give up. You can make it right. Keep him safe.
He placed his fingertip to Sam’s forehead. A white flash filled the room and Sam gasped.
What?
Images flooded faster than he should be able to process but he saw them, felt them all. His mother and father calling Dean into his nursery to peer into the crib at his baby brother. The young boy’s eyes a teeny bit anxious until they met his own, then widening as a smile took over his face. Smiling, laughing, tickling. Terror. Their Dad placing him in his brother’s arms ordering him to run, to run and not look back. Standing outside as the house burns, secure in the only embrace that he recalls means love. Moving and crying and hugging. Bone freezing fright as he awakens to a nightmare and Dean is there. Always there. Alone and hungry. Sharing the last of whatever they have. Giving. Anger and fighting and tears. More tears than seem possible. Exchanging, forgiving, growing, learning. Provoking until his stomach is a permanent clench. Mediating, soothing, cajoling, snarking, joking away the fear, making it safe.
Stop, he wanted to shout. It was too much … he couldn’t …
Pain. He sees it now. Sees himself walk away. Hears his father’s sharp words and sees, for the first time what he knew but never faced. Tears track down his brother’s face as he turns away from his livid father and walks alone out of the house. Staring at the road Sam has taken, unable to follow. Standing still. Alone. Lost.
The pace picks up and the faces of every soul saved waves in front of his eyes. Hundreds of selfless acts compound and build until they form a mountain he can’t see over. Then he is there again, beside his brother and they drive endless hours, an easy flow that feels like breathing. Had he stopped when they were apart?
The demon chases them, takes their father and they stand alone. Together. The pain flickers on Dean’s face until Sam thinks he’ll drown in it. Begging him to talk to him, share it, be my brother. He’s in Cold Oak and the pain flashes quickly through him again only this time he rises, floats, looks down to see Dean holding him in a death grip, staggered in agony. His brother is talking to him, asking him what he should do. Asking God. The bastard never answers and suddenly Sam’s back. Talking, fighting, alive.
Ruby appears. Hovering in shadows, helping and not, friend and not, and he wants to believe so bad he hears anything and accepts. Lilith and the hell hounds. The roar fills the space and he sees them blacker than any void, vicious and wild, tearing at Dean’s flesh, ripping it from his bones in snarling, frenzied delight. Blank eyes staring as he cries and sinks, falls seemingly forever.
It’s dark. Gray and black and red. Sharp wires stretch forever into the murky horizon. Dean’s hooked up on a mosaic of chains, spread open, split. Blood spurts from his shoulders where the hooks pierce through him, his chest heaves wildly, his heart beats in abject terror almost visible through the missing flesh. Then he shrieks -- harsh, gutteral, raw. Help! No! Somebody help me. Sam. Saaaaam.
No, it’s too much. He can’t see this. Make it stop. No. Noooo.
“Sam wake up. Sam.”
Shaking he rose slowly, forcing himself back, inhaling nonsulfurous air back into his lungs. “C … Cas,” he said.
“You were dreaming Sam.”
He looks quickly to the other bed. Dean is there, very still. Eyes wild he asked, “Dean?”
“The same. He is resting. Are you all right?”
Sam looks inward and avoids Castiel’s probing stare. God, he thinks. His vision goes red with anger. What God?
First things first, he goes to check on his brother. Cas is right, he is sleeping, looking fairly calm. His skin is still the color of a smoked cigarette. His dark, ridiculously long lashes hide the dark moons he knows are hiding beneath. A drop falls on Dean’s cheek. He touches where his tear has landed cupping his brother’s face within his large palm.
He turns to Castiel. “Does he know?”
“Know what?”
“Where he will go if he continues to refuse Michael?”
Cas tilts his head again. Must be an angel thing, Sam thinks. “I don’t know Sam. Nobody can know. It is God’s will that determines our path.”
His eyes slit. “Except that there are rules, right?”
“I don’t-”
“Don’t play coy. Given what he did in Hell, what should he expect?”
Castiel had the common decency to look away. It was all the answer he needed. “We have to tell him, warn him.”
He was about to wake Dean up when Cas’s hand touched his shoulder. “Sam. He knows.”
Sam stared at the angel incredulously. “How do you …?”
“I just do.”
The green-eyed monster flared again at their closeness. “And yet you do nothing. Yell at him. Tell him to accept Michael. I’m not saying being an angel suit is some sort of great cosmic reward but it’s got to be better than …”
The images flashed again so sharp he felt each lash as if they’d struck his own soul. “It’s not just accepting Michael. It’s what that would mean Sam.”
“What that would …” No. He couldn’t mean what he thought. He couldn’t be the reason Dean went to Hell again.
“Michael will kill you,” Castiel said simply. “He’s not like Zachariah. He likes humanity. If he denies Lucifer his body then this ends quick and much less bloody.”
Is this what Lucifer meant? Oh God. Except not, because God left the building and at this point Sam had no interest in him coming back. He worked to process, to catch up, he felt like he walked into a class mid-semester and everyone knew more than he did.
“Then why … why doesn’t he just smite me dead right now or whatever you guys do?”
Castiel looked at him. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Sam asked incredulously.
“I don’t know for certain. I haven’t spoken to Michael. But that would not be his way.”
“He’d want to be wearing my brother’s body before he killed me?!”
“Sam. I know this is hard to understand. There would be … love … in that. He’d be enabling your brother to save you. I know you don’t see it this way.”
No. He certainly didn’t see it that way. Except he knew he’d willingly let Michael as Dean do whatever he wanted with him as long as it kept Dean out of freaking Hell. But Dean would never accept Michael knowing this outcome. As to how he knew all this he assumed it had come up in conversations with Castiel. Conversations he hadn’t been invited to participate in.
Full circle. The only way Dean would say yes to Michael was if doing so would be the only way to save Sam. And the only scenario that made that possible was Sam saying yes to Lucifer.
Chapter 6
Author: sandymg
Summary: Lucifer tempts Sam. Dean’s life (and afterlife) hang in the balance. The iPod reappears. And it’s possibly the end of the world as we know it. Not necessarily in this order.
Wordcount: 10,321 in 5 chapters so far -- Work in progress Complete
Spoilers: Set in Season 5. Assumes all canon through Changing Channels 5x08. References to Faith 1x12 and The Magnificent Seven 3x01
Genre: Gen, angst, Sick!Dean, hurt/comfort
Characters: Sam, Dean, Assorted others (all canon)
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.
A/N: This story will run 7 chapters and will update quickly is now COMPLETE
Chapters: [ 4], [ 3], [ 2], [ 1]
Chapter 5 - California Dreamer
Dean would not consider saying yes to Michael and Sam wanted to trounce him in frustration. To his credit his brother had asked if the research with Tamara had unearthed anything. Cas had stared at him then, navy eyes intense. Knowing. Did he really think that Sam would slaughter a baby in cold blood. He remembered the nurse, Lilith’s helper, begging, pleading … this was different. The blood had changed him then, twisted him inside until he no longer knew who he was. Now he knew. No, Cas … I’m not going to kill a child.
There was just so much he could tell Dean. “This … spell is very dark Dean. A spell to undo it would have to be just as dark.”
It’s all the explanation his brother needed. He’d been around enough to know what that meant.
He tried again. “Dean. Maybe you could talk to Michael.”
“The sonofabitch hasn’t shown yet.”
Sam turned to Castiel.
“I believe he would come if Dean said yes,” the angel said.
“You believe? You don’t even know that?!”
“Most likely,” he said solemnly.
Again that smash his head against the wall feeling came back. He paced and ran his hands through his hair. Dean looked worse than he’d ever seen him. Well, alive, that was. Even after the Rawhead that had landed him in this godforsaken state four years ago he looked better than he did now. Bobby had said three days. He doubted it would go two. There had to be a way. He was missing something.
“Sam,” Dean said drawing his attention back the gaunt figure on the bed. “You haven’t slept in 24 hours. You need to rest.”
“I can rest when you’re okay,” he argued.
Castiel approached him. Uncharacteristically invaded his space the way he often did with Dean. “Your brother is right. You can’t help anyone if you fall ill yourself. I will stay with Dean. Sleep. I promise Dean will be here when you awake.”
The two men stared at each other. That’s a promise that the angel better not break. Understanding flowed between them. He sat next to Dean feeling for a fever with his palm. Not too bad, warm, but not hot. That calmed him some. Their eyes caught and a thousand words wanted to tumble out. A thousand apologies for all his wrongs. He wanted to beg him not to die. To hold him and not let go. To cry. Instead, he stood and walked to the other bed.
Sam stretched out thinking that it would be impossible to fall asleep. He was wrong.
***
Hello Sam.
A moment of disorientation led to clarity. I’m dreaming.
Yes. You’re troubled. Tell me why.
Go away.
Lucifer stood in Nick’s body, the one he said wouldn’t hold him forever and paced slowly to the other side of the bed. Alarmed Sam bolted up. But Dean wasn’t on the other bed. Castiel was gone. They were alone in the room. It’s just a dream, he reminded himself. His brother was fine. Castiel would take care of him. This gave him comfort.
Since the fallen angel clearly wasn’t going to accept his earlier command he tried another question. What do you want?
I thought we’d already established that. That soft almost grin appeared again. Your brother is dying.
If you already know this then why ask me what’s wrong?
Lucifer smiled, twisting Nick’s soft lips upward gently.
Words. It’s all he has. Let him talk. Maybe he’ll say something useful. Something they can use strategically one day.
Have you asked my brothers’ to help Dean?
Sam squirmed a bit and wondered what to say.
Of course you have. But they turned you down, right?
True, but he wasn’t going to admit this to Lucifer. The fallen angel tilted his head. A trait so similar to the way Cas moved it jolted Sam.
My brother Michael could heal your brother.
If Dean accepts him.
Well, yes.
Sam waited, suspecting what was coming.
Sam. I might be able to help as well.
Even expecting it his heart lurched.
You can cure Dean?
Lucifer gazed at him pityingly. He knew how naked he was right then, how desperate he must sound.
No Sam. I’m sorry. It’s not that I wouldn’t. I would. For you. But I was unclear. Only Michael can cure Dean. I meant that I could … we could … get Dean to say yes. So that Michael can save him.
Now Sam was confused. Their screwed up family made his own look like the Brady Bunch.
I don’t understand.
Lucifer sighed and gazed at him softly. It was disorienting that gaze. Not predatory. Loving. He blinked and broke eye contact.
Dean will not say yes and he will die. Unless your brother has a reason to say yes. There is only one reason Sam. You know this. Only one person he’d do this for ... It’s not humanity. Not the world. Not any angel in heaven or on earth.
Me. He’d say yes to save me.
Another soft smile. It was true, Sam knew. If Dean thought he could save him there likely wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give up. He’d already given up his life, would it be harder to give up his body?
Will you tell him you’ll kill me if he doesn’t say yes?
Lucifer looked at him like he was a small boy having trouble in class. I won’t kill you Sam. I need you. You are my chosen one. We have a great future ahead of us, together. The fallen angel sighed again.
Families are difficult. They fight. But they love each other. So it is for me. I loved my brothers, my Father, more than anything. You know what that’s like. I can feel it in you. If you say yes to me then Dean will say yes to Michael. He will foolishly think he has to kill you to save you. But that’s a lie Sam. They are lying to you both. I miss my brother, Sam. Remember that? Remember those days in school when you ached for him until you thought your heart would crumble? It’s the same for us. I only want us to … be together again.
He’s insane. Satan was insane. If giggling had been appropriate he would have burst into a spray long before now.
You want me to say yes to you not so you can rule the world but so that you can have a family reunion?
Well, we shall also rule the world. But it will be glorious. As it should have been before …
Before humans, Sam thought but didn’t volunteer. His head was reeling. In between all the crazy banter there was a kernel of truth. If he said yes then Dean might very well accept Michael. And he’d live. As an angel condom. The world would burn and humanity wouldn’t stand a chance.
He was not considering this. He wasn’t.
They lie Sam. They don’t trust you. You know this, right? Did they tell you where he’d go after he dies?
Sam looked at him, rising from the bed to take advantage of his height, his physicality. Irrational in a dream but it still soothed.
Where he’ll go? Flashes of red stripes filled his vision suddenly. You can’t possibly mean Hell?
The smile widened. Ah. I can’t tell you that. Not because I don’t want to. Truth is, I don’t know. I’d bet my brothers would tell you otherwise. Promise up and down that, yes, your brother will go to Heaven. But that’s a lie Sam. I don’t lie.
Why wouldn’t he go to Heaven?
I didn’t say he wouldn’t Sam. I said I didn’t know.
God, was it possible? After everything could Dean end up back in the pit? With a stone in his stomach he remembered his brother’s tears as he told him he’d liked torturing those souls. Going back would destroy him completely. Even if it were possible there would be nothing left to save.
Because of what he did? What they made him do? He hated the warble in his voice but didn’t know how to stop it.
My Father … can be hard … rigid … dare I say unforgiving at times. He paused. Sometimes fathers can be like this.
Sam blanched at this. His father wasn’t perfect but he forgave. So would God.
Ah, it’s difficult, I know. One always wants to think the best. But there are rules. What your brother did in my home. It makes him unwelcome elsewhere.
This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t facing the same impossible scenario all over again. He seized on something that Lucifer had said.
You said you didn’t know. He may not go to Hell. Who knows then? Who would know where he’d end up?
Our Father. The decision is already made but we aren’t told. He doesn’t speak to us anymore. He’s away. Absent. You remember what that’s like, right Sam?
Rigid. Hard. Unforgiving. If you leave this house don’t ever come back. Sam’s legs felt weak and it was all he had to stay standing. It ceased being a question in his mind. If Dean died he’d be back in … Lucifer eyed him carefully. Steady expression. Never feral. Never mean. He approached him slowly, arms spread, palms up.
Sam. I’m sorry. I am. I believed it was your right to know all the facts before you say your last goodbyes to your brother. Our Fathers … they tried … we know this … but they weren’t always right, were they? And as for my brothers. I wish they were honest with you. At least you know I always will be.
Maybe … maybe Dean won’t. You don’t know …
No. I admitted as much. I don’t know. But Sam there are millennia of precedence.
This time his legs did give out and he sat back on his bed. Lucifer sat beside him.
Sam. You love him so much. I know how this is. How it hurts. Your brother who’d do anything for you. My Father won’t help him. But you can. You don’t have to give up. You can make it right. Keep him safe.
He placed his fingertip to Sam’s forehead. A white flash filled the room and Sam gasped.
What?
Images flooded faster than he should be able to process but he saw them, felt them all. His mother and father calling Dean into his nursery to peer into the crib at his baby brother. The young boy’s eyes a teeny bit anxious until they met his own, then widening as a smile took over his face. Smiling, laughing, tickling. Terror. Their Dad placing him in his brother’s arms ordering him to run, to run and not look back. Standing outside as the house burns, secure in the only embrace that he recalls means love. Moving and crying and hugging. Bone freezing fright as he awakens to a nightmare and Dean is there. Always there. Alone and hungry. Sharing the last of whatever they have. Giving. Anger and fighting and tears. More tears than seem possible. Exchanging, forgiving, growing, learning. Provoking until his stomach is a permanent clench. Mediating, soothing, cajoling, snarking, joking away the fear, making it safe.
Stop, he wanted to shout. It was too much … he couldn’t …
Pain. He sees it now. Sees himself walk away. Hears his father’s sharp words and sees, for the first time what he knew but never faced. Tears track down his brother’s face as he turns away from his livid father and walks alone out of the house. Staring at the road Sam has taken, unable to follow. Standing still. Alone. Lost.
The pace picks up and the faces of every soul saved waves in front of his eyes. Hundreds of selfless acts compound and build until they form a mountain he can’t see over. Then he is there again, beside his brother and they drive endless hours, an easy flow that feels like breathing. Had he stopped when they were apart?
The demon chases them, takes their father and they stand alone. Together. The pain flickers on Dean’s face until Sam thinks he’ll drown in it. Begging him to talk to him, share it, be my brother. He’s in Cold Oak and the pain flashes quickly through him again only this time he rises, floats, looks down to see Dean holding him in a death grip, staggered in agony. His brother is talking to him, asking him what he should do. Asking God. The bastard never answers and suddenly Sam’s back. Talking, fighting, alive.
Ruby appears. Hovering in shadows, helping and not, friend and not, and he wants to believe so bad he hears anything and accepts. Lilith and the hell hounds. The roar fills the space and he sees them blacker than any void, vicious and wild, tearing at Dean’s flesh, ripping it from his bones in snarling, frenzied delight. Blank eyes staring as he cries and sinks, falls seemingly forever.
It’s dark. Gray and black and red. Sharp wires stretch forever into the murky horizon. Dean’s hooked up on a mosaic of chains, spread open, split. Blood spurts from his shoulders where the hooks pierce through him, his chest heaves wildly, his heart beats in abject terror almost visible through the missing flesh. Then he shrieks -- harsh, gutteral, raw. Help! No! Somebody help me. Sam. Saaaaam.
No, it’s too much. He can’t see this. Make it stop. No. Noooo.
“Sam wake up. Sam.”
Shaking he rose slowly, forcing himself back, inhaling nonsulfurous air back into his lungs. “C … Cas,” he said.
“You were dreaming Sam.”
He looks quickly to the other bed. Dean is there, very still. Eyes wild he asked, “Dean?”
“The same. He is resting. Are you all right?”
Sam looks inward and avoids Castiel’s probing stare. God, he thinks. His vision goes red with anger. What God?
First things first, he goes to check on his brother. Cas is right, he is sleeping, looking fairly calm. His skin is still the color of a smoked cigarette. His dark, ridiculously long lashes hide the dark moons he knows are hiding beneath. A drop falls on Dean’s cheek. He touches where his tear has landed cupping his brother’s face within his large palm.
He turns to Castiel. “Does he know?”
“Know what?”
“Where he will go if he continues to refuse Michael?”
Cas tilts his head again. Must be an angel thing, Sam thinks. “I don’t know Sam. Nobody can know. It is God’s will that determines our path.”
His eyes slit. “Except that there are rules, right?”
“I don’t-”
“Don’t play coy. Given what he did in Hell, what should he expect?”
Castiel had the common decency to look away. It was all the answer he needed. “We have to tell him, warn him.”
He was about to wake Dean up when Cas’s hand touched his shoulder. “Sam. He knows.”
Sam stared at the angel incredulously. “How do you …?”
“I just do.”
The green-eyed monster flared again at their closeness. “And yet you do nothing. Yell at him. Tell him to accept Michael. I’m not saying being an angel suit is some sort of great cosmic reward but it’s got to be better than …”
The images flashed again so sharp he felt each lash as if they’d struck his own soul. “It’s not just accepting Michael. It’s what that would mean Sam.”
“What that would …” No. He couldn’t mean what he thought. He couldn’t be the reason Dean went to Hell again.
“Michael will kill you,” Castiel said simply. “He’s not like Zachariah. He likes humanity. If he denies Lucifer his body then this ends quick and much less bloody.”
Is this what Lucifer meant? Oh God. Except not, because God left the building and at this point Sam had no interest in him coming back. He worked to process, to catch up, he felt like he walked into a class mid-semester and everyone knew more than he did.
“Then why … why doesn’t he just smite me dead right now or whatever you guys do?”
Castiel looked at him. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Sam asked incredulously.
“I don’t know for certain. I haven’t spoken to Michael. But that would not be his way.”
“He’d want to be wearing my brother’s body before he killed me?!”
“Sam. I know this is hard to understand. There would be … love … in that. He’d be enabling your brother to save you. I know you don’t see it this way.”
No. He certainly didn’t see it that way. Except he knew he’d willingly let Michael as Dean do whatever he wanted with him as long as it kept Dean out of freaking Hell. But Dean would never accept Michael knowing this outcome. As to how he knew all this he assumed it had come up in conversations with Castiel. Conversations he hadn’t been invited to participate in.
Full circle. The only way Dean would say yes to Michael was if doing so would be the only way to save Sam. And the only scenario that made that possible was Sam saying yes to Lucifer.
Chapter 6