Disclaimer- Don't look at me, Kripke and Co tortured them first. I'm only borrowing their toys.
Author's Note- Okay, so I spent all night last night writing this. I'm trying to get the hang of writing in past tense so I can get into the habit. Um...and yeah! Be sure to R&R!
Warning- If you are easily offended by sexual abuse or other forms of torture, this is not the story for you.
--
Fell On Black Days
There was a time not long ago that my life was sort of okay. Sure I wasn't where I saw myself at twenty-five; a student at Stanford Law, getting ready to graduate and move on in life, the girl of my dreams by my side. But it took Dean coming to get me my senior year of pre-grad to go find Dad, and eventually Dad dying for me to see that I could have fooled myself into thinking that I was happy with an office and a home, but deep down I would yearn for the open road, nothing but me and my big brother, saving people and hunting things.
And then it took Dean dying to make me realize that I couldn't live without him. I used to get onto him about his recklessness when hunting, but it was always because he had a lack of concern for himself. I never thought it was because without him, I would be an empty shell, only living by instincts rather then emotions and feelings.
People like to believe they're in control of everything that happens to them. They don't believe that the stars and the planets can reveal all of those flaws that you hide from the world. But the truth of the matter is you don't choose your destiny. Your destiny chooses you. Whether you're randomly selected or targeted for a purpose, it's all the same. You're born, you grow up and live your life based on what you know, and you hope that when you die, all of your worries and struggles will disappear along with your body. Angels will swoop down from the heavens and you'll ride on their wings to a place in the clouds with gates of pearl and streets of gold.
Nobody likes to think about there being another place you go. It's a place only for sinners and people who lived their lives based on lies, hate, or even blood. What they don't know is that not everybody that goes to Hell is bad. There are people who had so much devotion and so much love that they willingly chose the depths of the fiery pits in order to let someone else live.
When the hell hounds came for Dean, it didn't seem real. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe the voice of angels coming down from heaven to save a person who's not worthy of the torment that awaits them in Hell. Their soul guided by a white light towards the place of eternal peace and happiness, where all the good people go.
However, the only white light I saw came from the palm of the devil herself. I don't know why it didn't kill me like it should have. Like I wish it would have. But I do know one thing: the life drained out of me when I held that lifeless bloodied corpse in my arms, gazing into those familiar olive green eyes that once held so much life now empty and glazed over.
I've become a vampire, unable to live in the light of day. I see people going about their happy lives and it kills me that even if they're completely alone, at least they still have themselves to turn to. I don't even have that anymore. I can't turn to myself because the only thing I see when I look deep down is darkness and evil, everything I've fought so hard not to become.
It seems so easy, so inviting to just let go of the ledge and fall into the dark abyss. But those last words from Dean keep ringing in my head.
'Sammy, remember what Dad taught you. And remember what I taught you.'
And I do remember. I think about it every time I hold a monsters life in my hands and take it without a second thought.
I remember how erratic Dean became after Dad died. He would talk about anything and everything under the moon unless Dad was even near being the subject, then he'd just say he's fine. But he wasn't, it was so easy to see that I think he knew I didn't believe him, but he didn't care. Just as long as he had those walls in place then he was just fine.
But it was a different story when we were hunting. All of that built up hurt, anger, rage, hate; it would come to the surface in the form of the bloody pulp of the monster we had been after. I think that was the only time in my whole life that I've ever felt a tiny bit sorry for those creatures that died at the hands of Dean's wrath.
Now I know why he did it. I didn't realize how good it felt watching the life die from the eyes of evil. It makes me feel powerful, in control, and for the briefest moment, I'm not thinking about Dean screaming in the midst of the hell fire.
I swear sometimes that I actually hear his screams, his pleas for mercy as they inflict unfathomable pain on him. Sometimes the screams become so loud that I have to turn the music on full volume just to drown them out.
God, his music, it drives me insane. I swear he bought his cassette tapes from dive bars and biker hangouts. But I can't change the music even if I wanted to, which I do. As if sitting behind this wheel didn't feel wrong enough, anything but mullet rock blazing through these speakers doesn't sit right with me. Actually, in a way it's almost comforting. I can turn on some Metallica or ACDC and pretend, just for a little while, that Dean's right there in the passenger seat beside me, sleeping as sound as one could being cramped up in this thing.
Sam jumped, being pulled from his thoughts as a passing car sounded it's horn. Suddenly realizing how stuffy it is in the Impala, he rolled down his window.
"It's about damn time. I was starting to get a few unpleasant flashbacks from way down south," Ruby stated as she peeled her leather jacket off.
Oh right, that's another thing. Since Dean died, Ruby's been right here with me. I can't stand her voice, but I have no choice but to put up with her until we get this all sorted out. She's all I've got left now. I've learned that Bobby was a closed door. Every time I get in contact with him he sounds like a fucking motivational speaker.
"I told you not to talk." He glanced at her as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the seat, her bare feet propped up on the dash.
"Do demons actually sleep?"
She chuckled. "Yeah right. I haven't slept in at least one thousand years."
"You're really old, you know that?"
"And with age comes wisdom, my friend."
'I'm not your friend,' he thought.
"Sure you are. You've only tried to kill me like a handful of times."
Irritated, he slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "Ruby, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that? If I wanted to tell you something then I'd fucking say it, alright? So stay the fuck out of my head."
She stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Gee, someone needs to pop a Midol."
He shook his head, gluing his eyes to the endless road in front of them.
It felt like hours had passed before another word was spoken.
"So where are we going, Ruby?"
"Well since someone is so bitchy about letting me drive, we'll probably be stopping for the night in Jefferson City."
"Yeah, but where are we going? You still haven't told me."
She looked over at him, a smirk on her face. "We're going back to Kansas, Dorothy."
His brow furrowed as he pondered what could be in Kansas before it dawned on him. "We're going to Lawrence?"
"One point for the pretty lady in flannel," she exclaimed.
The Impala suddenly became engulfed in a cloud of red smoke as he quickly pulled to the side of the road and parked.
She sighed, eyes rolling. "Here we go."
He turned to her, eyes narrow. "We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's in Lawrence. What the hell are we doing, Ruby? You've been keeping me in the dark for too long about what it is that you want with me."
"What makes you think this has anything to do with what I want?"
"Oh gee, let me think, because you're a manipulative, lying skank."
"Am I in some book I don't know about?"
"Ruby, I swear to God if you don't tell me what the hell we're doing I'm gonna kill you," Sam snarled, voice dripping with disdain.
"Mmm, you go ahead and do that tough guy." She raised her black t-shirt up, golden skin accented with scars. "Right here in the heart. Come on, take your best shot."
Nostrils flared, he grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her face close to his. "Tell me what you want!" he screamed.
She smiled, olive green eyes gazing into his. "Well Sam, if you wanted to be this close all you had to do was say so."
Face clenched in disgust, he shoved her away.
She rubbed the side of her head where it hit the door as she pulled her shirt back down. "Fine, be that way."
"Ruby…"
"We're going to Lawrence to save your brother, alright?"
"And you can help me save him?"
She nodded. "Yes."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Cicero."
Ruby stared at him, confused. "Did I miss that one when I was learning twenty-first century speak?"
"Cicero, that's the place you first told me you could save Dean. And then there was Ohio, where again you told me you could save him. And here we are three months after Dean was taken to Hell. That lie is becoming really old."
"I believe my exact words were I could help you save Dean. And that's what I'm doing."
"No, what you're doing is trying to get me to turn darkside so you can use me in your stupid little game. Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble but I made a promise and I'm keeping it. I'm not going to turn into some cold-blooded, vengeful killing machine. I will not give into whatever this is inside of me. We're going after Lilith my way. So you can go fuck yourself because whatever it is that you want with me, you're not getting it."
"I'm not?" A smirk flashed across her face. "Sam, is there something about this conversation that seems off to you?"
He stared at her with creased eyebrows. "You mean other then the obvious? I've spent a long time trapped in this car with nothing to listen to but your voice bitching about anything and everything."
"Sam, take a good look and you'll see what I mean." When he didn't show any sign of comprehension, she rolled her eyes, frustrated. "Look at my lips you idiot."
His eyes flicked down towards the plump lips. "What about them?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
His eyes widened as realization hit him.
"Why so surprised, Sam? When I told you how powerful your abilities are did you assume it came with a flying carpet and an invisible cloak?"
"How did you do that?"
She sighed, clearly annoyed. "Sam, I didn't do anything. This is all you. And I can tell you that telepathy isn't the least of your abilities. This is just a taste of what you're capable of. Why do you think Lilith ran away from you? Because you could read her mind or have a vision of her?" She laughed. "No, because if you would stop wasting your time trying to kill her with a little knife and focus on honing your abilities you could become as powerful as her, maybe even more."
"Stop it, okay? Just stop. I made a promise to…"
"Right, you made a promise to your brother. Tell me Sam, how many nights have you been kept awake from the screams of him burning in Hell? How many times have you tried to ignore him screaming your name for you to help him? It eats you up inside because you know that if it weren't for you he wouldn't be going through agonies you can't even imagine. So what the hell kind of brother would you be if you let him stay there? How could you live with yourself knowing you could have done something to save him but you didn't because you're worried about how he's gonna look at you when he realizes you're not your old self anymore?"
"Shut up!" Sam screamed.
She started laughing maliciously. "Or god forbid when you finally do grow a sack and decide to save him, he comes back a little different?" Suddenly, Ruby's glare turned from warm to cold, the pure blackness hinting at the destroyed soul inside. "Or a lot different?"
He tried not to flinch, not to let his horror show in his eyes as the evilness betrayed the face that looked so sweet; that he knew this person who once owned this body never would have wanted anything like this. "No, you said it yourself that it takes centuries to burn away your humanity. He'll be far from one of you by the time I save him."
Her eyes turned back to normal. "Please, you think they don't have a few tricks up their sleeves? A hallucination here, a lie there…if they play their cards right he could be one of us before you're old and gray."
"Why risk it?"
"Because he risked everything for you, and now he's paying the price."
Looking out his window, his jaw clenched as he hesitated. "So what…what's in Lawrence?"
"A gate to Hell."
Sam's gaze snapped back to her. "Are you kidding? Ruby there's already a couple hundred more things out there to hunt. You want to let out more?"
"It's only going to be open for a minute."
"And you expect him to be able to climb out of Hell and through the door in one minute?"
"Well lucky for you, I know a spell that will summon his spirit back into his body. That was the plan all along, wasn't it?"
"No, the plan was to kill Lilith. If she's dead, he's out of Hell, free and in the clear."
"And you honestly think she's gonna bend over and let you stab her in the ass? If you're going to be stupid and not use the one thing in your favor to save your brother then this is the only other option we have."
Sam's eyes grazed the soft strands of wheat as they brushed up against the black metal of the Impala, burning to the touch from the summer heat. "What do we have to do?"
"His spirit will have to be pulled through Hell to the nearest gate. If memory serves me right, he should be in the second level right now."
He shot her a look. "Second level?"
"Let's just say there's a process you gotta go through before being sent down into the pits, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but the fire isn't nearly as bad as what he's going through now."
Despite the stricken look in his eyes, he urged her to continue. "Okay, so what happens after he makes it out of the gate?"
"His soul will be pulled back into his body."
"Will he…will he survive?"
"Trust me, his body is taken care of, you made sure of that."
With a wry smile, he let out a sigh of defeat. The Impala roaring with life, Sam pulled back out onto the road.
The demon glanced over at him, eyes filled with accomplishment. "You know, we would get there a lot faster if you let…"
"You're lucky I even let you in the car. Don't press it."
"You say that as if I have a choice."
He smiled, glancing up at the devils trap above her head. "There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight."
"Fine, be a party pooper."
Sam swallowed hard, trying to ignore how much like Dean that sounded, and hated that it was coming from the mouth of a demon. Not able to run away from those thoughts, he switched the music on, letting his thoughts of Dean be washed away by the opening riffs of Smoke On The Water.
--
"Help me! Please, help me!" the woman screamed in excruciating pain, blonde hair dangling to the floor as the evil man held her bent over, forcing himself into her repeatedly, showing no signs of mercy.
"Let her go you son of a bitch!" Dean screamed, her hot tears stinging the bare skin of his thigh where his jeans had ripped, only but a few specks of blue left of the now blood-soaked denim.
He tried to wiggle free of his shackles, his back flat up against the wall and his legs spread out in front of him. He groaned at the raw flesh pressing against the burning hot iron cuffs, creating new boils over the old ones, and the others below those.
"Please, make him stop, make him stop! Please, help me. Help me!" she continued to cry.
He wished for nothing more but to be able to close his eyes so he doesn't have to watch this, but the thick metal wire weaving in and out of the folded up eyelids and into his brow, not to mention the brace holding his head straight, made it impossible to do anything but watch and scream in horror. But all the wire in the world couldn't stop the tears from spilling onto his cheeks, stinging the deep cuts on his face. A sob escaped his raw, tightened throat. "I can't, Mom. I can't."
--
"Okay, so you want to slowly pour the water into the mixture. And remember you guys, it's gotta be ice cold. And just slowly start mixing it in with the batter."
"Turn the TV down," Sam groaned.
"I can't, the TV's across the border," she stated.
'Man, I really gotta start making those traps bigger.' "Use the remote, then."
"It broken."
He took a deep breath, trying not to let the play by play instructions of the late-night cooking show drive him mad. Sam blindly grabbed at the pillow beside him, buried his head under it, his hand pressing down over his ear.
'Great, now I can't breath. Oh well, better then listening to a rerun of Rachael Ray.' He laughed quietly. 'Dean loved that stupid show. I thought it was so funny when he tried out some of her recipes. Some came out so not how they looked on TV, and others came out pretty good; especially the Linguini.'
'Don't make me do it anymore, please! I can't do it.'
Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of Dean's cries in his head. 'No, go away. Go away!' He pleaded in his mind. But to no avail.
'I can't! My body, I can't move my body. Please, you have to let me go. Let me go be with the others, please!'
With each plea, Sam grew angrier, less in control. He felt it as it rose throughout his body, his blood boiling as he grasped the pillow desperately. That only made the screams louder. Between Dean's cries and the loud volume of the TV, he felt he had nowhere to run to escape the noise. It would follow him around, screaming in his ears. And the more he prayed for deafness, the louder it became.
Eyes clenched shut, he gritted his teeth. 'Be quiet. Just shut the fuck up. Leave me alone. Leave me alone!'
It was at this point that he felt a rush of energy escape him, followed by the sound of a socket exploding. He removed the pillow from his face, sitting up to see what happened. The only sound in the room was the faint growl coming from Ruby as she shot a glare at him from over her shoulder.
"You lazy ass, all you had to do was get up and turn it down yourself. You didn't have to break the damn thing. Now what am I supposed to do all night, twiddle my thumbs?"
Dumbfounded, he stared at the smoking television. 'What the hell happened? I did that? How do I know it wasn't her?' Unable to come up with an answer, or rather not wanting to in case it was in fact him that blew up the tv with his mind, he laid back down, pulling the blankets up over his chest and hoping that the noises will stay gone for good.
--
Dean screamed out in pain as the chain cut into his back. His stomach was pressed up against some poor girls back, one hand on the ground and the other firmly planted on her stomach to keep her propped up.
"Faster! I want to hear that slut scream!" the demon yelled, lashing the chain into his back again.
"My body won't move!" he cried, adding to the puddle of tears gathered on the strangers back.
She was crying too, begging him not to. He's been hunched over this girl for a good month, unable to stop and let his body rest. He hasn't cared about what he looked or sounded like for a long time. His dignity was the first to go. Of course anybody's would if they were forced to have sex with random women and men alike until their skin become so raw it bled and their muscles ached to the point to where every movement was excruciatingly painful.
And he knew it wasn't about the sex. It was about humiliation. The more they could humiliate you, the less human you felt. Was this how Casey and that demon priest had met? You definitely get to know someone, that's for sure.
"Are you going to do it, or do I have to show you how it's done?" the demon snarled.
Dean shook his head. "No, no I can do it." He knew he couldn't, he had pushed his body beyond the brink. But unless he wanted to have his ass ripped apart again as some demon pounded their way nearly through to the other side, he had to muster all the energy he could.
"I'm sorry," he whispered before groaning in agony as he forced himself into her again, trying to ignore her screams.
--
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Sam asked, trying to avoid falling over headstones as they made their way deep into the large cemetery.
"Come on, Sam. You can't tell me that all the years you've been trained as a hunter you've never known that you had a gate to Hell right in the city you were born in."
"Uh yeah, I guess dear old Dad skipped that part in the history lesson."
She laughed. "You know I do believe I met him down there. Did he have a beard and a tattoo of a bulldog on his right bicep?"
Sam halted, illuminating her with his flashlight. "Can we please save the reminiscent Hell talk for another time? Make sure you've got everything."
With a roll of her eyes she brushed past him, her boots crunching along the gravel path. "Yes mother."
A few minutes later they reach an old, unkempt crypt. The moss covered stones and trailing ivy give it an old-world feel. But inside laid no family that once enjoyed life and all it had to offer. No, inside laid the dark depths of eternal damnation, reeking with the stench of burning flesh and sulphur.
"This it?"
Ruby nodded. "Yep. Charming, ain't it? It could almost pass for a real crypt. If only people knew when they walked by here that one day they could be dragged through those doors." Dropping her leather satchel to the ground, she starts setting up for the ritual, taking out random jars filled with organs and other bodily fluids.
"You know you could have chosen a better body to take these parts from. This guy's lungs look like they had a mouth of their own to puff on a cigarette." she stated, placing candles on the headstone before her.
"Well I wasn't going to kill a perfectly healthy guy, Ruby. Now tell me, how are we supposed to open this gate without a key?"
"We have the key."
"What is it?"
She looked up at him, face bathed in the golden glow of the candles. "You."
Baffled, his eyebrows knit. "What?"
Sighing, she met him in front of the door. "Sam, you can open this door. All you have to do is imagine it opening and it will. It's all in your head." Her eyes lock on the iron door. "Just use your mind."
"Ruby, I already told you I'm not going to…"
"Oh just give it up already. You keep preaching about how you're never going to let your darkside take over; you're never going to spill innocent blood. Well you sure didn't look too remorseful when you gave that man a Columbian necktie, or even when I was carving him up like a goddamn Thanksgiving turkey. It's not the fact of taking human life that you don't like. It's how you feel when you do it."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I don't? You think I don't know the feeling of being invincible, powerful when I take a life? You don't think I know how good it feels when someone does something to piss me off and I shove my knife into their heart? You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can never lie to me because I've been there."
"I don't kill innocent people, Ruby. I am not a cold-blooded killer like you. You say you remember your humanity, but still you're a sociopathic, remorseless, heartless killer who thinks of no one but herself."
Eyebrows raised, she folded her arms over her chest. "Is that so? If I think of no one but myself then why the hell am I here trying to help you save your brother? Do you even want to save him, Sam?"
"You know I do."
"Well then fucking do it! You can do it if you really wanted to. Think of it as a worthy sacrifice. What's more important to you, getting your brother out of Hell, away from eternal torture and eventually becoming like me, or leaving a black mark on that oh so pure soul of yours?" When she sensed his fight was starting to break, she pushed on, knowing exactly what to say to break it down completely. "He sacrificed everything he ever had for you. What have you sacrificed for him?"
Shell-shocked, he stared blankly into the night, his face emotionless.
A smile swept across her face as she stood by his side, gazing at the door. "Come on, Sam. Let's get this party started, shall we?"
Clearing his throat, his eyes slid shut. 'I'm sorry, Dean. I can't leave you down there in Hell. Not now, not ever.'
Sam saw the crypt in his mind, not every tiny detail, but enough to get the job done. Taking a deep breath, he imagined the round lock in the center moving. He jumped when he heard a click. "What was that?"
"Stay focused, it's working," she said while walking back over behind the tomb stone to begin the ritual. She picked up a knife that could easily be from the dark ages, running it over her rough palm to create a stream of blood. When she felt eyes on her, she looked up to see Sam staring at her. "Come on!"
Getting back into focus, he shook his head, eyes closed once more. He had the same image in his head, but this time he kept the image of the spinning lock in his mind longer.
As Ruby began to recite a latin rite, the hairs raised on his arms as a breeze picked up, whisking around him, engulfing him in it's rapidly growing speed and strength. Keeping that picture in his head, he began to imagine the lock pulling out of its socket.
An unknown feeling washed over him, almost feeling like the air itself was seeping into every pore of his body. He imagined the door starting to crack open a little, black smoke pouring out of the crevice. It's not demons. It's smoke from the pits.
When the image of the door opening became clear enough in his head, he opened his eyes, only to be surprised by an intensely bright white light surrounding him. It wasn't until he rose his hands up before him that he realized it was coming from him.
His eyes narrowed in an intense fixation as the image in his head came to life before his eyes, the door slowly opening. Sure enough, along with the smoke from the fire came a few demons that had become aware that the door was being opened. Their dark clouds flew past him and into the world.
--
"Don't you love me, Dean? Don't you want to save me?" the imitation Mary cried.
He shook his head against the brace, sobbing unabashedly. He would rather be used as a toilet for demons again then watching his own mother be violated like this, unable to do anything but watch and scream for the demon to leave her alone, though he knew the more he tried to help her the worse her abuse became.
"Help me, Son! Why don't you love me? Why, why don't you love me? What kind of person wouldn't even help their own mother?"
"I love you so much, Mom. I'm so sorry. I can't save you. I can't," he cried.
Her words faded into piercing screams as the abuse intensified. His whole body shook, not only from his crying but because the scream was so loud it shook the walls around him. He didn't care anymore. He let his ears become deafened. He deserved it. He deserved all of this. Why couldn't he ever help her? Why didn't he find a way to get out of the shackles so he could save her from her misery? Why didn't he just pull until his hand ripped from his arm? He only needed one hand to get her away from the bastard who's hurting her.
But just as he started to pull, the screaming suddenly stopped. He was able to blink again, and he was so thankful that even though it provided no relief from the heat coming from the flames licking at his naked body, he could at least close his eyes and pretend he was a God walking on the sun rather then a prisoner of Hell with no escape from this torment.
It was pretty bad, he wasn't even in the main pits yet there were thousands of other damned souls like his being put through the same torture. But the screams started to become quiet again. 'No, not another attack yet, please. Let me stay here for a little bit longer.' He felt cold as he rose above the fire.
He opened his eyes, looking down upon the other souls. 'This is strange. I'm not afraid of heights.' But when his eyes fell on the bright light shining in through what looked like a door, he yearned to be able to make it. But he knew he wouldn't be able to. There were too many people; too many demons to push past to get through.
He didn't know what was going on when he started to move in that direction. 'Is this some type of joke? Make me think I'm going to get out?' But rather then fight it he went along with it, knowing any kind of struggle would only make it worse.
As he drew closer to the light, he braced himself to be dropped down back into the fire, or even to disappear completely into another part of Hell. But when his feet brushed upon the tops of heads of demons and spirits alike, he started to think that maybe this wasn't a torture tactic. Maybe he could really get out.
He had to kick off a few demons who had grabbed onto his feet, trying to drag him down. But something was pulling him out the door. When he reached it, he couldn't see anything but the light. 'Yeah right, like I'm really going to Heaven,' he thought. The pulling became suction as he fought away from the demons and started advancing towards the door.
Finally able to grab onto the edge of the outside world, wherever it may be, he used his arms, whatever strength he could muster, and pulled his way out. Once fully out, he fell to the ground, the rocks and dirt clinging to him.
Suddenly he heard a scream, what sounded like a man screaming "Now!"
Then with a sudden burst, the light seemed to explode as a blast of energy flew over him, slamming the doors shut behind him. It took a moment for the light to fully dissipate, but when he did he saw the man who he assumed created the light fall to the ground unconscious, possibly dead.
Gasping, he slowly made his way to his feet. Brushing away the rocks that had stuck to his hands and knees, he looked around at his surroundings. Eyes falling on the man standing behind a tombstone topped with candles, he stared confusedly at him. He looked so familiar. Short brown spiky hair, olive green eyes, brown leather jacket. However, it wasn't any of those that made him realize who it was. It was the necklace that hung from his neck on a black leather cord.
"Here," Sammy said as he held out the small gift wrapped in newspaper.
"No, that's for Dad."
"Dad lied to me. I want you to have it."
The young preteen sighed, accepting the gift and carefully pulling the paper back. Inside he found the coolest looking amulet he'd ever seen. It looked like a horned god of some sort. But he liked it most of all because of who it came from.
He started to stumble towards the man, a finger pointed at him. "Hey, you're…you're supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive?"
The man smiled, eyes turning jet black. "Because it's your lucky day."
Without further-ado, the man arched his back and started screaming at the top of his lungs as black smoke shot out of his mouth. It took only seconds for the demon to leave the body, darting away from the scene.
But just as it did, that pull that he felt earlier started again. Knocking him onto the ground, he grabbed at the earth as he was dragged towards the body, lying lifeless on the ground. He still couldn't fully comprehend what was happening, but he knew it was nothing good. He screamed as he drew closer to the body, going blank as his spirit was jammed down the throat of his own body.
--
Slowly rousing himself from what felt like a dead sleep, Sam raised his head to look around. It was completely calm. He looked towards the door, seeing it securely shut and locked. He moaned as he gradually made his way to his feet, his head protesting as it throbbed violently. His knees almost gave in, but he stables himself, holding his head in his hands so his brain doesn't come oozing out through his skull.
Breathing deeply, he looked around, not seeing any signs of life. "Did it work?" he asked, hoping Ruby would come out of the darkness and lead him to his brother. However, he soon found out he didn't need her, eyes locking on Dean's body, laying still in the grass on a grave.
He dropped to his knees beside it, afraid that if he touches him he'll mess something up. "Ruby? Are you still in there?" When he didn't get an answer, he inadvertently stopped breathing. "Dean? Dean, can you hear me?" He stared at his brother's face, watching for any sign of movement; any sign of life. But there wasn't one.
Sam looked around at the scattered, bloody body parts and blown-out candles that were knocked over, the dried wax dripping over the name of the person who lay here. He looked back at Dean, figuring there's nothing to lose. Gently, he shook Dean's arm, trying to wake him. "Dean, come on, wake up. Dean, can you hear me? Dean!" With every call of his name he became filled with dread. Now not caring what could happen, he grabbed hold of both his arms. "Dean, wake up! Damnit, wake up! Please, don't leave me here, Dean. Wake up!"
As tears spilled from his eyes he dropped his head. Three months ago he had felt so hopeless, in the same position with his brother's corpse in his arms as he wept. And then Ruby filled his head with stupid lies that she could possess his body, keep it alive until they found a way to kill Lilith. And then maybe, just maybe they could get Dean back in it, alive and back to his old self. But neither had come to be. Lilith was just as alive as she was the night she ordered the hell hounds to take Dean, and Dean was still dead.
"Dean," he cried, more out of sorrow then hope. His arms collapsed; his head landing on Dean's chest. He didn't move. He wanted to stay there, close to his body until there was nothing left of both of them. What was the point of living? He knew sooner or later he would finally give into whatever it is Ruby wants, and he would become what he swore he never would. Let Lilith take the world as her own. Let this form of existence be over. His world was already dead.
But just as Sam was ready to lie there forever, he felt a hand start to caress his head, brushing the hair out of his face. His body tensed, unable to move out of shock and fear. The tears stopped as he listened for any sound of breath. However, the tears came rushing back as he heard Dean whisper in a raspy but quiet voice;
"Don't worry, Sammy, Daddy will be home soon. Go back to sleep."
Sam raised himself off him so he could breathe. Tears still rolled down his face as he gazed into Dean's eyes, half-massed. "Dean?"
"S'kay, Sammy. You can sleep with me tonight. Just lie down and go back to sleep. Daddy will be home by the time you wake up, okay?"
He nodded as he began to break into sobs. "Okay."
--
The motel room Sam had gotten for them was pretty bare. The TV only got two channels, both of which were porn. But he wasn't in the mood to watch TV anyways. It's been three days since Dean was brought back, and he still hadn't fully woken up. He kept mumbling things about their mom, how she's hurt and he has to go save her. But now he slept more then he talked.
He hadn't called Bobby yet. He knew he probably should, but he didn't feel like explaining how everything went down. And also he's pretty sure Dean wasn't in the mood for visitors.
The rhythm of a song he's not sure he's even heard before played out on the tabletop as he patiently watched over Dean as he slept. He admitted he was getting pretty antsy, but more out of concern that Dean may not wake up from this half-dazed state. He looked peaceful at least.
He used this time to think about what he wanted to say to Dean when he did wake up. Does he start off with a simple 'Hey'? Does he start fussing over him? He'll probably be really thirsty when he wakes up. What if he went around the corner to the mini mart and picked up some beer? That would be a sight for sore eyes. No, he doubted he'll want to spend his first waking moments intoxicated.
Sam sighed, about ready to go take a shower to try and keep awake when suddenly Dean went into a coughing fit. Instantly running to the sink, he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice cold water before he rushed it over to Dean.
He held his head up, helping him take the water in slowly, the first couple of tries failing when the water sprayed and ran down Dean's chin and onto his t-shirt. When he was finally able to swallow, only about half the glass was full. He drank the rest of the water down, gasping for air when the glass ran dry.
"Hey there, take it easy, okay?" Sam said before he grabbed another pillow and placed it under Dean's head to prop him up more.
They sat there for a few minutes without talking, just soaking in each others long-awaited presence.
Dean looked around the room, staring at the TV. Oh how he loved the site of that ancient dinosaur of a machine that probably held no more then five channels, all porn, of course. Or the refrigerator, it made his stomach growl just thinking about food, but also at the same time made him feel sick just thinking about eating. But most of all it was the emo looking dude next to him that really mattered. It was his Sammy, the boy who had once liked Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and reading books that normal kids his age weren't even close enough to being able to read.
"How long?"
Sam stared at him, confused, but a smile on his face nonetheless. "How long, what?"
Dean cleared his throat, trying to push past the hoarseness. "How long has it been?"
Sam swallowed hard, thinking if this was the best conversation to have first thing after Dean woke up. "Three months."
Dean's eyes widened. "Three months?"
"Yeah, I know it's a long time, I'm sorry. I tried to hunt down Lilith faster but…"
"No, I had to have been gone for longer then three months. Down there it felt like decades."
Sam tried not to let his worry overpower his relief. "Yeah, I bet it did."
Dean sighed, looking towards the sink. "Can I have more water?"
The younger nodded, jumping up from beside the bed and refilling his glass with cold water. This time Dean was able to drink it on his own, slapping Sam's hand away when he tried to help.
"I'm fine, Sam. I just came back from Hell; I'm bound to be a little sore for a few lifetimes."
He smiled, thinking how that sounded just like the old Dean.
"So what have you been up to?"
Sam shrugged. "Not much. Just trying to track down Lilith and doing a little bit of hunting on the side."
Dean nodded, a wry smile gracing his features. "And Ruby?"
"What about her?"
"I mean have you been tagging along with her?"
Sighing, Sam hesitated before nodding. "She's the one that did the spell to get you out of Hell and back into your body."
"Hey, speaking of, how did you get my body back?"
His head lolled. 'Wait a minute. He doesn't remember last night. Maybe he doesn't have to know. No, it would be wrong to lie to him. But he would rip me a new one if he knew I let Ruby possess his cor…body, while he was away. What he doesn't know can't kill him.'
"Sam?" Dean urged, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Sam jerked, shaking his head. "Oh, um…yeah, your body was gone. But Ruby found this spell that slowly rebuilds the body over a couple of days as long as she had some of your remains. I didn't think it would work at first, but here you are, alive and breathing."
"Speaking of here, where is here anyways?"
"Uh…" 'Shit, if he knew we were in Lawrence he would run out to the Impala right this second and drive away, leaving me here. "We're in Lincoln."
"There's a gate to Hell in Lincoln, Nebraska?"
Sam laughed. "I guess the hicks have a lot more to be proud of then NASCAR."
He couldn't help but laugh, amused at how his own sense of humor rubbed off on his little brother. "Well that and their shrimp and grits. Mmm, I'd love me some shrimp. No, wait, scratch that, I want pie. Fresh baked, dutch apple, french vanilla ice cream on the side. Can we go for some pie, Sammy?"
He nodded, chuckling. "Of course."
Another spell of silence washed over them for a few more minutes before Dean broke the ice. "Hey Sammy?"
"Huh?"
He met his brother's gaze, staring deep into those familiar eyes. "You shouldn't have done it."
Sam stared at him, puzzled. "Done what?"
"Brought me back. I told you we need to stop this. We can't keep bringing each other back from the dead. The more we go against the current the harder it's going to be for us to climb out of this mess."
"I know, believe me, I know. But I…I couldn't do it, Dean. I couldn't live with knowing where you were; what you were going to become."
Dean nodded. "I know, Sam. But I mean it, this is the last time either of us do anything to bring each other back, okay? It ends here and now. Do you understand me?" Even though his voice was soft, it was firm enough for Sam to know he's leaving no room for arguments.
Sam hesitated. "Yeah, okay." He patted Dean's hand. "It stops here."
Dry, chapped lips formed into a smile, Dean placed a hand on his little brother's shoulder. "Thank you, Sammy."
Sam smiled back at him. "Don't mention it. I mean it's the least I can do for everything you've done for me."
"Damn right. Remember that college freshmen in Texas?"
Sam laughed. "How could I not? I lost my virginity with her."
"I know, and who introduced you two and forced you to go out with her?"
"I know, I know, you did."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. They glanced at each other before Dean sat up, alert as Sam looked out the peep hole.
"What the hell?" He said as he unlocked and opened the door.
Dean was about ready to head for the nearest shotgun when a gorgeous brunette woman walked into the room, wearing a sexy red dress and matching heels. The boys stared at her, astounded.
She smiled at Dean, eyes flashing black. "I believe someone wanted to meet Angelina Jolie?"