I never thought I'd post another story, but here we are. As some of you may know, Jensen has voiced his…displeasure at the fact that Dean left Sam down in that mine shaft in Beat the Devil, but that it was too late to change it by the time he realized it. So this is a short fix-it fic, sort of. I don't know if someone has already done this, but I couldn't find a fic in my brief search and I needed a scene rewrite.
So please let me know how I did. I may not write all that often but I will strive to improve for when I do. No beta, so all mistakes are mine.
Don't Go Where I Can't Follow
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As soon as Dean sees his brother brought to his knees, time seems to slow down.
"Sammy!"
He watches as one vampire sinks its fangs into Sam's neck, and Sam cries out his name like a reflex.
Pinned as he is by his own attacker, Dean can't help but answer, "SAM!"
To his horror, the vamp rips an entire chunk out of Sam's flesh, and a nauseating gush of blood spurts from his neck. The sight makes something flip inside Dean, and he surges forward. He just barely catches the gasped "Dean" from his brother, voice weakened but still reaching out to him. Dean feels like he's in a haze—everything around him is blurred, along with all thoughts but one: get to Sam. He knocks the vamp in front of him down and turns to do just that when, in a moment of clarity, he notices movement behind him. On pure instinct, he catches the vampire that jumps him and flips it over his shoulder, stomps his foot down on its chest to hold it, and slices through its neck with deadly efficiency.
Wasting no time, Dean leaps over the slayed monster and is in front of Sam in a few long strides, ripping him from the other vampires' grip with adrenaline-boosted strength before they can drag him off into the tunnel. He grasps Sam in one arm, guards him with his body, and holds his machete out with the other, hoping to keep the vamps at bay.
The monsters snarl and make to lunge at the brothers when Cas appears from behind Dean to stab the closest vamp in the heart with his blade. Dean swipes the machete at the other, and its own momentum helps the blade sink into its neck. It collapses to the ground with a gurgle and goes still.
Dean pants and time speeds back up. He drops the weapon and clasps his hand to the side of Sam's neck, crouching down as he secures him in his arms. "Sam! Sammy, hang on." Deep down, he knows what he saw, how much blood Sam must've lost in even just the few seconds since his throat was torn out. His fingers slip in all the blood, which by now is just barely seeping out of the devastating wound. But it's ingrained in him to try to fix it, so he clamps down on the wound anyways.
Sam lets out a tiny gasp and Dean feels like his own heart stops beating. The light is already fading from Sam's eyes, though they flicker with life one more time as they meet Dean's—they're full of fear, sorrow, and other deeper emotions that don't need to be said aloud but Dean sees clear as day—before glazing over.
Dean sucks in a shaky breath that almost sounds like a sob. "No...Sammy, please. C'mon." He moves his bloody hand, trembling, to brush it against the side of Sam's face. A few strands of hair fall limply. His whole body feels numb, and anguish begins to wash through him like waves, ebbing and flowing. He's so frozen in shock that he nearly jumps when a hand settles on his shoulder.
Cas's rough voice sounds from just behind him, "Dean, is he…?" Dean vaguely hears the others—Gabriel, Maggie, and the other guy whose name escapes him—also approaching from the other side of the cavern. Anger sparks briefly in him because none of them seem to be doing anything.
Dean looks up at Cas, eyes boring into him, then into Gabriel who's come up into his line of sight as well, and back to Cas. "Cas, what are you waiting for? Heal him, right now!" The words punch out of him, gruffer than he intended but he's past the point of caring.
Cas turns his head away, as sorrowful as Dean has ever seen him. "Dean, I'm sorry, I...I can't. He's too far gone for me to…" He trails off, and the angel settles his eyes on Sam. The grief and shame at his own powerlessness are written all over Cas's face.
It's as if Dean's very soul is cracking, and the knowledge that this can't be fixed—not here, not now—has him frantic. He turns desperately to Gabriel, not even needing to voice his plea.
The archangel appears just as regretful as he shakes his head once, silently communicating his helplessness.
No. Sam, he couldn't be… Swallowing that thought and tamping down the swell of despair, Dean gently slides his arm out from under Sam, pausing to close eyelids over sightless eyes. It causes him almost physical pain to lay him down and stand up.
Dean faces the others and with more calm than he should have—though his voice trembles faintly—he addresses his friend, "Cas, you and Gabe should get them out of here. We should be close to the exit, you can hold off any other vamps well enough to get them through. Once you get out, make tracks for Dayton."
Cas begins to protest, "No, Dean, what are you—", but Dean interrupts.
"Cas, please." He cuts a glance at the body near his feet. "I'll...we'll be right behind you, I just gotta…" His eyes are watery as he stares at Cas, begging him to understand that he can't leave just yet, can't leave his brother here alone.
Cas doesn't want to let Dean stay without backup, but he knows they've run out of time and he can't convince Dean to come with and leave Sam behind. So he leans in so only Dean can hear, "You will catch up with us, right, Dean?" He can't bear the thought of losing both Winchester brothers to this hellhole of a world, and he can't do that to Mary and Jack either. He's certain they will be devastated enough as it is.
Dean ghosts a half smile at him, though his eyes don't reflect any mirth. "Yeah. Promise." He doesn't have the heart or energy to say more.
Cas nods and turns away, gesturing for Gabe, Maggie, and Floyd to follow him. They disappear without another word into the far tunnel.
After the sound of their footsteps recedes, it's quiet, save for the scattered dripping from the opening in the ceiling into the dirty pool of water. There are probably more vampires lurking around, but Dean barely spares that a thought. He kneels and bends over Sam's unmoving form. He cups his brother's jaw and lets his eyes roam over the still, lifeless face. The face of the one who mere days ago declared they were in it together until the end.
If something happens, we will deal with it. Together. And if we die? We'll do that together, too.
And Dean had believed him, because if he didn't have faith in Sam, after everything they'd been through, he couldn't rely on anyone. If the past five, ten, thirty years had taught him anything, it was that neither brother dealt well living without the other, so he didn't begrudge Sam the sentiment. Not anymore. No, Dean didn't mind at all the thought of going out with a bang, side by side.
I don't really care what happens to me.
But he should've known better. Their mutual trust had been fought for and earned many times over, and they couldn't afford to doubt each other. But they shouldn't have fooled themselves into believing that some evil thing out there wouldn't take any chance to rip them apart. Quick, cruelly, and with no warning. Like Random Cave Vampire #4 getting the jump on Sam and taking a bite out of his jugular. In the blink of an eye, before Dean could do anything about it, his little brother gone just like that. Dying. Dead.
We'll do that together, too.
So why did Sam go alone? Dean feels himself choke and tears start to drip from his eyes. He leans over further until his forehead just brushes Sam's. His hand slides back to grip the back of Sam's neck, fingers tangling in his hair, nails scraping through congealed blood settled into creases of cooling skin. Reminders that now Dean is the one who's alone.
Dean only allows himself another minute of inaction. He sniffs once and cranes back to look at Sam's face again, where a few droplets of salt water tears have fallen and dripped down, carving little paths through dirt and blood. It's funny. Even though Dean's world has essentially ended, he doesn't have time to really let it sink in. He has to get out before more vamps show up. He has to catch up to Cas, find his mom and Jack, and go home while the portal is still open.
Jack… If Jack had the power to resurrect Cas from the Empty, is it possible that he could…? Dean prays that the nephilim can do it. The kid is family and Dean trusts him to do everything in his power to bring Sam back. That thought alone is what keeps him from pulling out his gun and ending it for himself right there, or rushing headlong into a swarm of vampires with no weapon. He will carry Sam the whole way to Dayton if he has to.
Dean pulls in a breath. His voice sounds like gravel as he—forever the big brother—reassures his little brother, "It'll all be okay, Sam. Me and Jack? We're gonna fix this." He says it like he isn't trying convince himself as well. He begins to gather Sam's body to him, preparing to lift when he hears snarling echo off the walls. Dean's head snaps up, renewed fear and adrenaline washing through him. Now that he has a mission, the sound of the approaching monsters makes his gut twist at the bad timing.
Dean reaches for his dropped machete, and he stands up, places himself between the incoming threat and Sam's body, and readies his stance. His jaw ticks and his lip curls in determination. Nothing will take him down before he has a chance to save his brother.
Several vampires emerge from the mouth of the passageway. They spot the lone hunter and grin devilishly. Dean's form is that of a deadly predator, ready for an attack.
The vamps rush forward, intending to surround him, when they suddenly stop as if they hit an invisible barrier. They stumble and strain forward uselessly, angry and growling.
Dean's brow furrows in confusion, but then someone speaks from behind him, a voice that makes his body go cold.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Dean closes his eyes for a moment in resignation, then reopens them and slowly turns around to come face to face with the gleeful smirk of the newcomer. He's not really surprised that the Devil made it here. Who knows whether or not Rowena is alive, but he has more important things to consider. Like the fact that Lucifer is standing there, his hand held up in a finger snap, expression smug as hell and watching him over Sam's lifeless body.
"You fellas look like you could use a hand."