Seeing Benny waiting for him in Purgatory was the last straw.
"If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you."
"The Sam I knew is gone. It's not the demon blood or the psychic crap. It's the little stuff, the lies, the secrets..."
"Listen to me, you blood sucking freak ... "
"I just don't believe anymore, Sam. In you."
"Benny's been more of a brother to me than you ever have ..."
And now Dean had to send the vampire to Purgatory to rescue his fuckup little brother.
Sam would show Dean that he wasn't a fuckup.
Sam stopped Bobby from killing Benny, followed Benny to the portal, followed Benny's instructions to secure Bobby's soul into his arm, and made the token protest when Benny said he wasn't coming back. When Benny dove into the fray against the attacking vampires, Sam dove in beside him.
Between the two of them, the three attackers were quickly beheaded.
Benny chuckled, lowering his weapon to his side. "Stubborn like your brother." He grinned, holding out a hand toward Sam.
"Yeah," Sam nodded and smiled, reaching forward with his right arm to shake the offered hand.
In a flash, he raised his left, swinging quickly to behead the vampire, who died with the grin still on his face.
Sam picked up Benny's weapon and gouged a mark into the nearest tree trunk. He took the makeshift canteen from one of the dead vampires that appeared to have been made of something's stomach, and consulting the compass in his watch, he went back the way he had come. Now familiar with the terrain, he was back at the rabbit hole within two hours.
He slipped inside, waiting at the first junction of passages until one of the sentries passed by. He grabbed the demon from behind, stabbed him in the chest with Ruby's knife, and dragged him around the corner when the twitching of his body stopped. He slit the demon's throat, closed his lips around the wound, and sucked out as much blood as he could swallow. He waited until the next guard passed and grabbed him as well. This time Sam slit the demon's throat, and drained as much blood as possible into the canteen. When Sam finished with the second demon, he dropped the carcass where he stood, and made his way back into Purgatory.
He went to the river, peeled off his jacket and removed his button down shirt - actually Dean's, which he just happened to be wearing in some fortunate accident - hoping it still had enough of Dean's scent on it, and draped it over the branch of a witch hazel tree on the riverbank. He put his coat back on over his t-shirt, and slipped into the underbrush to wait for his next quarry.
When he saw the flash at the top of the hill, Dean nearly sank to his knees in relief.
He stumbled upward, to find Sam staggering down toward him, and caught his little brother in a desperate, wordless embrace.
"Purgatory right?" Dean choked out, forcing down the flashbacks and the horror and the chick flick moment that wanted to escape. "A real garden spot, ain't it?"
Sam nodded, still breathing unevenly. "Yeah."
"Did you get them out?" Dean asked.
"Only ... only Bobby." Sam sighed. "Benny ... he didn't want to come back. He took us to the portal and that was it."
Dean nodded, jaw clenched. "Yeah. I had a feeling he wouldn't want to come back." Dean swallowed heavily. "Bobby ... so, uh, how did he hold up down there?"
"He was good, all things considered." Sam half smiled. "Ornery as hell, of course. Said he wouldn't mind sticking around here to help, but I told him that we had to send him on. That we had burned his body, so he couldn't stay, anyhow."
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Let's put that old man where he belongs."
Sam unsheathed the knife in his belt, holding it between his teeth as he tugged his sleeve up. His arm bubbled and shifted, glowing from within. He began the Latin incantation, and and sliced his arm open without flinching. The light brightened as it rose from his skin, shifting from a red-orange to a pure silvery blue.
The light rose above the trees, and suddenly turned into a black cloud streaked with red. The cloud darted about furiously, as if hitting against a barrier.
"Hello boys." purred a low voice behind them. "Why Bobby Singer. I'd know you anywhere."
Somewhere in Dean's surprise and horror, it registered that Sam hadn't reacted to Crowley's arrival at all.
"Let him go, Crowley!" Dean ordered, advancing on the demon. "He doesn't belong in Hell!"
"He does if I say he does," Crowley shrugged. "He's inflicted untold damage on my kind. I actually think Hell's too good ... " he trailed off, frowning. "Moose?"
Dean turned to see Sam chugging down something from a soft sided canteen.
All of his worst fears were confirmed when Sam dropped the pouch.
There was blood around his mouth, blood too dark to be human.
Sam held out his hand toward Crowley, who staggered backwards, eyes wide.
Crowley spluttered and choked, a wisp of red smoke seeping from his mouth and nose, before he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
The barrier holding Bobby's soul earth bound evaporated at the same moment, sending the light bounding away at a dizzying speed.
Dean lunged toward his brother, grabbing both of Sam's arms. "Demon blood?" he demanded.
"Dean, I had to," Sam explained, frowning. "You didn't really think Crowley wouldn't try to stop us, did you?"
Dean frowned for a second, realizing that he had expected the trial to go smoothly. "But Sam," he shook his head. "Not demon blood. We would have found another way ... "
"I had to do what I had to do." Sam argued. "Getting Bobby out and upstairs was the most important thing at the moment. I had to be prepared for anything Crowley tried."
"Well, at least you just brought a canteen of blood with you." Dean sighed. "It's not like you were shotgunning it before you knew you needed it." He relaxed, letting go of Sam's arms.
"Let's just get out of here." Sam scrubbed a hand over his face.
"You gotta ... " Dean gestured. "Say the thing. The incantation that seals the trial."
"Oh yeah." Sam nodded.
He dropped to his knees, muttering the words, pressing his hand to the ground. He groaned and pitched forward, folding over double as Dean knelt beside him, hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Sammy?" he rubbed vigorously across his younger brother's shoulders. "Okay?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded, sitting up on his knees, leaning into Dean for a moment. "Yeah. Let's go."
When they reached the safety of the Impala, Dean sank into the seat, allowing himself a moment to let go of all the fear and horror of the past two and a half days that Sam had been gone.
"Dean?" Sam said softly.
Dean rolled his head across the back of the seat to look at his brother.
"As long as we're this close, I want to check Dad's storage unit in Hicksville to see if there's anything in there that could help us. What do you say we get a room for a few hours and head over there later?" Sam suggested.
Dean sighed. "Honestly? I'd rather get as far away from here as possible for now. Why don't we head that way before we stop to sleep?"
"You sure you're up to driving?" Sam frowned. "How much have you slept since I was gone?"
"Not nearly enough," Dean admitted wryly. "But I'm caffeinated and adrenalized right now to the point I'm not going to sleep any time soon."
"Know what you mean," Sam agreed.
They drove toward New York in silence, watching the sun rise as they went through New Hampshire.
However, there was a jackknifed truck that snarled the roadway for hours just as they crossed the state line into New York. To further complicate matters, while they sat waiting, a radiator hose ruptured on the car. Dean was able to fix in in only a few minutes, but he had to wait more than an hour for the car to cool down enough for him to be able to work on it first.
Sam called Kevin to check in while Dean was under the hood, reporting that the prophet was fine, still working, and rather annoyed at being disturbed.
It was late afternoon when they arrived in Hicksville, and both brothers were tired and irritable. The decision was made to find a motel, catch a nap before dinner, and then head to the lockup in the morning.
Sam headed for the shower before his nap, and Dean didn't argue, understanding the need to wash away Purgatory's grime.
Sam was dressed in his suit, combing his hair, when Dean woke.
"Suit up," Sam grinned in the mirror at Dean's puzzled expression. He reached into his interior jacket pocket as he turned. "Dr. Rory Williams just got a new platinum card," he held the credit card up between his fingers. "and we're going to break it in properly to celebrate sending Bobby to Heaven."
"Break it in properly how?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse," Sam smirked. "Fifty dollar steaks, hundred dollar bottle of wine, best apple pie on the East Coast."
"I knew there was a reason I keep you around." Dean joked, rolling off the bed and heading to the bathroom.
Two hours later, Dean was more relaxed than he had been in years. He and Sam were on the second bottle of Italian red wine, his steak and Sam's shrimp whatever dinner had been cooked to perfection, and the brothers had spent hours reminding each other of silly things they had done when they were kids.
They drank toasts to Bobby, Caleb, Travis, and Pastor Jim. They even managed to talk about Dad without tempers rising.
When the waiter cleared their dinner plates, Dean excused himself to visit the restroom before his pie arrived. When he returned, Sam had filled their wineglasses one more time.
"One more toast," Sam lifted his glass.
"Who this time?" Dean asked.
"Us."
"Us?" Dean frowned.
"To fixing everything." Sam held out his glass.
"To saving the world, one more time." Dean tipped his head and clinked his glass against his brother's.
By the time they finished their desserts, Dean was lightheaded.
"You ok?" Sam narrowed his eyes.
"Wine's going to my head." Dean poked at the last bite of pie, and missed.
"That's what happens when you drink good stuff when you're used to rotgut whiskey." Sam smirked.
"Asshat," Dean muttered.
"Seriously, it's probably because you dried out in Purgatory." Sam assured. "You haven't been drinking much since. This is probably the most you've had to drink since you've been back."
Dean slid the keys across the table. "I think you'd better drive back to the motel."
By the time they arrived to the motel, Sam had to half carry Dean into the room. Dean collapsed onto the nearer bed, still in his suit.
"Come on, you light weight." Sam teased, tugging Dean's shoes off, and levering his brother up to help him remove his suit jacket.
Dean mumbled something incoherently and held up his middle finger.
"You remember when I finished first grade, they gave me a certificate for making all A's for the whole year, even though I was in 5 or 6 different schools that year?" Sam smiled, more to himself, as Dean's eyes were barely focused. He unbuttoned Dean's shirt, slid it off, and tossed it onto the chair with the jacket. "You stole the frame around the evacuation plan from the motel we were staying in and framed it for me. Everywhere we went that summer, you put that framed certificate on the dresser." Sam continued on as he unfastened Dean's belt and removed his pants, leaving his brother in his undershirt and boxers. "Dad was just like "Well of course you made all A's. Whatever." but you were so proud of me."
"Uh huh," Dean muttered, rolling onto his side.
"I'm going to make you proud of me like that again." Sam promised. "I'm going to fix everything."
He sat on the side of the bed to pull off his shoes.
"I miss those days." He said softly, stripping himself down to his underwear as well.
"You miss not knowing where we were going to be next week or if we were going to have anything to eat?" Dean scoffed sleepily.
"No," Sam scooted closer. "I miss when it was just me and you and Dad was hardly ever around. I miss never questioning that you loved me more than anything else in the world. I miss how close we used to be."
"Why're you bein' such grrrl t'nite Sam?" Dean slurred around a yawn.
"You were right about Purgatory being pure." Sam whispered. "It shows you what's really important."
He snuggled closer, pressing his head again Dean's shoulder and throwing an arm over his older brother's waist. "You know what else I miss? How we used to cuddle up when we were kids. Until I was ten and Dad told you that you were going to ruin me, make me soft by treating me like that. Right after that, you started chasing girls, leaving me alone while you dated any of them who would give you the time of day. I was really angry, jealous actually, for years. I felt like I had been replaced. I didn't understand, not until I was with Jess. You needed that kind of touching, to be cuddled and cherished, and since you couldn't have it with me anymore, you had to find it somewhere." He reached up to smooth a hand over Dean's hair. Dean, eyes closed and snoring softly, didn't move. "Dad's not here any more Dean. I'll snuggle you all you want. I'll always be your Sammy. No one will ever love you like I do."
Sam turned over, scooting backwards and reaching back to pull Dean against him until the full length of their bodies were pressed together as much as possible, Dean's front to Sam's back, Dean's chin against Sam's shoulder, Dean's arm curled around Sam's chest, two legs stretched out straight and two bent upwards together, and fell asleep being held in his brother's embrace once again.
The ringing phone woke Dean.
"Mmhmm?" he mumbled, not even raising his head off the pillow.
"Were you asleep?" Garth asked.
"Wha' else wuh I be doin' at ..." Dean squinted at the clock. "Holy shit, it's past noon?" He sprang up to sit on the bed.
"Yeah," Garth agreed pleasantly. "Look, I know what you two have been working on, and I haven't been throwing you any cases, but I just got a tip from a contact with Homeland Security. They've got an exsanguinated demon in LaGuardia Airport, and the GPS on your phone says you're thirty miles away."
"Yeah," Dean looked around the room, grabbed his shoes. "Sam?" he called out. "We ... fuck, did you say bled out?" He dashed across the room to look out the window. The car was still there.
"Exsanguinated, bled out, whatever you want to call it." Garth confirmed. "Stabbed in the chest, but little to no blood at the scene, as if it had been sucked out."
"Fuck, oh fuck," Dean muttered as he looked across the room and realized Sam's duffle was gone. "Sam!" He shouted again. "Yeah, I got this." He told Garth and hung up. "Tell me you just took your stuff to the car already and you're down at the lockup." He dialed Sam's number, which went straight to voice mail. "Tell me that you didn't roofie me and go drink demon blood." He pulled up the internet on his phone, logged into Verizon, and checked the GPS for Sam's phone. It showed last location as somewhere along the Long Island Expressway, over four hours ago. "Tell me you did not drink a demon in a fucking airport."
He grabbed his car keys and the room key off the nightstand and yanked open the door.
There was nothing visible in the backseat of the car, so Dean opened the trunk, and froze as his blood ran cold.
Three of the four guns Sam usually kept with him were sitting in the trunk. Only the pearl handled Taurus was missing.
"Sonuvabitch." he groaned before returning to the motel room to change into his suit.
He stopped at the front desk on his way out to pay for another night, only to learn Sam had already done so bright and early this morning.
He went to the airport, pretended to be FBI, had a near miss with the real FBI, and returned to the motel room hours later knowing nothing except that the local and federal authorities had no idea what to make of a dead body with no blood that smelled of sulfur. The demon had been found in a service corridor, with the security cameras disabled. He had no proof that Sam had been involved, but there was just too much coincidence for Dean to believe otherwise.
Dean had been hoping that Sam would be back at the motel by the time he returned.
He wasn't.
He tried calling again. This time it rang four times before going to voice mail, which meant Sam had turned it back on. Dean immediately pulled up the GPS locator.
Seattle.
Sam was in fucking Seattle.
Which meant he had taken a fucking plane.
Shit, shit, shit.
He poured himself three fingers' worth of whiskey and stared at the television that wasn't even turned on, trying to figure out why Sam would have come out of Purgatory, drugged his brother, and gone almost straight to Seattle.
With a sinking feeling in his gut, he looked up the number for the dispatch office of the Seattle police department.
"Evening. Special Agent Ed Murphy, FBI. I'm following up on a hunch. Have you had any reports of a grave desecration in the past 12 hours?"
The desk sergeant on the other end barked out something between a grunt and a laugh. "Helluva of hunch, Agent. Call came in a couple hours ago. The officers are still at the scene. The corpse stolen was a teenage Jane Doe, found murdered at the Century Hotel about two years ago. At the time, she was presumed to be a runaway, but we never got anything from the missing persons reports, and the ME said he couldn't get a decent DNA analysis. You know who she is?"
"I have a pretty good idea." Dean answered, leaning one hand against the wall.
"You want me to patch you through to the officers at the scene?" the sergeant offered.
"Nah," Dean said. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to disturb them when it looks like I'm probably going to be on the next flight out there."
"Understood." The sergeant agreed. "We'll see you when you get here."
Dean hung up the phone, sank down on the edge of the bed and called Sam's phone again.
"Hey Dean," Sam answered, sounding as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
For a moment, Dean ran through and discarded at least a dozen things he could say, before settling on a starting point. "You brought Emma back from Purgatory."
"You figured it out?" Sam sounded disappointed. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
"A surprise?" Dean snapped. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You come back from Purgatory, drug me, drink demon blood in the airport and then fly to Seattle to resurrect my dead half-Amazon daughter and you thought this would be the kind of surprise I would like?"
"You were mad at me because I killed her." Sam sounded like a scolded child. "I fixed it. I brought her back for you."
"Sam," Dean sighed. "How many times do we have to have the conversation that what's dead should stay dead? Especially when the dead thing in question was trying to kill me when it died?"
"But not Winchesters." Sam pointed out. "You and me, we've died plenty of times and we've always come back. Bobby came back. It's just Mom and Dad and Jess that don't get to come back."
"Sam," Dean groaned. "What the hell are you doing? I understood why you drank demon blood when you were expecting to run into Crowley. But you killed and drank another demon at the airport this morning!"
"I needed to be strong enough." Sam answered. "I mean, the last time Emma saw me on earth, I killed her, and then I kinda took her out of Purgatory kicking and screaming, so I expected her to be kinda pissed off."
"How did you even find a demon?" Dean barked.
"I walked around the airport repeating 'Christo' until someone reacted." Sam told him.
"Where the hell are you now?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out why Sam was acting like all of this was perfectly reasonable.
"I'm on I-84, headed back toward the bunker." Sam answered. "I had to steal a car. I can't fly with Emma. She's ... not cooperative."
"But you're able to drive with her?" Dean shook his head, trying to make sense of the statement.
"She's in the trunk." Sam admitted.
"Sam!" Dean dropped his forehead into his palm, his elbow propped on his knee. "Send her back where she belongs."
"No, Dean." Sam answered softly. "I'm going to fix this. I'm going to fix everything for you, because you're my brother and I love you."
Dean's blood ran cold, and he couldn't begin to wrap his head around what that meant.
A/N - there is a longer follow up story to this, but it's going to be pretty graphic and therefore not meet FF's requirements. I'm posting it at AO3 and LJ.