Title: The Devil You Know
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Spoilers: All Hell Breaks Loose part 1
Warning: Wincest. But it isn't graphic.
Disclaimer: OK, I no own Sam'n'Dean. I also don't own the characters in this that bear a strong resemblance to ones that are owned by Neil Gaiman. You might spot a couple of the Endless in here as well as Lucifer.
Sam glared at the crossroads before turning his gaze on his brother. He had wanted to make the demon come searching for them; choose an area where they could try to bargain with her. Dean had done his best throughout the year to block Sam's attempts to free him. Sam could understand that Dean wasn't going to do anything to risk Sam, but at this point he felt it was moot.
However, Dean had insisted. They had to be here by noon, the demon would come for him sometime between sunset and midnight. While the sun was at its apex, Dean wanted to sketch a circle of protection under the Impala. Sam was to stay in the car when she came. At that thought Sam gave a half-hearted snort. As if.
While Dean was rummaging in the trunk for salt and asafoetida to draw the circle with, Sam grabbed their emergency blanket and waded out into the weeds surrounding the crossroads. He spread the blanket and made himself comfortable. Like the last crossroads they had been at, this one was also surrounded by summoning herbs. A profusion of yellow and white flowers encircled him; in some areas the yarrow and wormwood were so dense it was hard to tell them apart.
Eventually Dean wandered over and threw himself down on the blanket. Sam wanted to say something, even if it was a platitude but found that nothing would come out. Nothing that would matter. He realized he needed his last words to Dean to have some weight. With a bitter shake of his head Sam turned to look at his brother.
"Don't, man. Don't feel bad. I knew what I was getting into, I wanted it," Dean told him, unexpected and gruff.
Sam still couldn't find words. Words had never been their strong suit anyway, actions spoke louder. So Sam leaned over and kissed Dean, letting that say what he couldn't. Dean moaned and kissed him back as if Dean was drowning and Sam was air. Under the bright sun, Sam took the time to worship his brother, marking Dean with his teeth and fingers, showing Dean all the love and affection Sam had for him.
Dean was unusually docile during it all, allowing Sam to do whatever he wanted. Sam wanted it to be slow, to wring every bit of pleasure out of Dean that could and he did. Too soon for Sam's liking they were lying side by side again, exhausted but satiated. There were dusky areas on Dean's neck and hips that would darken into bruises given time. Time that Dean didn't have. The sun was beginning to sink down in the west, night was coming.
After resting for a bit, Dean pulled himself up and began to dress. Sam did as well and once he slipped his shoes on again he reached out and snagged a handful of yarrow flowers, the bitter scent of the herb filling the air.
"Hold on to these. We'll try to talk to her, yarrow can ward off as well as summon," Sam almost begged. He held the stems out to Dean who just stared at them.
"I told you, I don't want to get out of it. I'm not a hypocrite," Dean chastened.
"But I need more time," Sam said finally, aware that he sounded like a whiny kid. Always the little brother who demanded more, who needed more. "I don't think I can do this without you."
"You can," Dean replied softly with a small grin. It was an echo, a reminder of all that they had had together.
"I don't want to," Sam told him petulantly. Dean's grin spread into a wide smile and Sam couldn't help it when he mirrored the motion. They began to walk out to the gravel road, their shoulders bumping amiably together.
They reached the center of the roads and Dean took a deep breath. With instinctual ease they scanned the horizon, waiting for the demon to appear.
"Dean," Sam started then fell silent, unsure of what he was going to say.
"No, Sam. We've been through this," his brother said grimly. It was true. In the past month they had more fights over this than Sam was willing to remember. Sam clamped down on whatever he might say next, he didn't want the last thing that they might say to each other be full of anger.
Taking a hint from earlier, Sam just leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Dean's lips. His brother gave him a half-hearted whack on the shoulder but didn't complain beyond that.
"How sweet. Although, you're supposed to kiss me if you're making a deal here," rang out a feminine voice. Both men spun to the right to see a young woman standing near them, this time she was wearing a white dress but Dean knew it was her. As if to agree with his assessment, her eyes filled with red covering the whites and iris with a bloody haze.
"Sam, get to the car," Dean growled as he positioned himself between the demon and his brother. Sam, as usual, had other ideas and stayed right where he was.
"What if we want more time?" Sam demanded, ignoring the elbow Dean shoved into his midsection.
"Would you sell me your soul too, Sam Winchester?" she cooed. With one petite hand she pushed her long, dark hair away from her face. Suddenly, there was a pack of six hell hounds circling around. Dean could see them and he was certain that Sam wouldn't be able to. Not yet, not unless he agreed to bargain with the bitch.
Sam didn't say anything; Dean was praying Sam would keep his mouth shut. He didn't want Sam to have to endure what he knew was waiting. The dogs, scenting their indecision, began to circle closer.
"I will have your brother, make no mistake," the demon enunciated and the dogs began to growl, their coal red eyes glowing in the twilight gloom. The demon reached out and placed her hand against Dean's chest, he could feel her fingertips latching onto his soul.
Just as the lead hound was getting a little too close for Dean's comfort there was a flicker in the air around them. It looked like a heat shimmer, invisible but blurring the world for a moment. When it ended, there was a full cadaver of thirteen Reapers at the heart of the crossroads.
"You might want to reconsider," one of the Reapers told the demon. She looked familiar with pale alabaster skin and black hair in a sleek chin-length bob. This Reaper was comfortable in a black tank top and black jeans, but unlike the other Reapers she wore a silver ankh pendant on a black leather cord. It seemed strange that she was the only one to look human; the other twelve were in their ghostly, incorporeal forms.
"Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked lowly. It was clear from the demon's angry posture and Dean's look of shock that there was more taking place than what Sam could see.
"Uh, I think Death is here," Dean finally answered. He sounded stunned and awed.
"Like death Death? Not a Reaper?" Sam demanded. Shouldn't he be able to see this as well? Maybe not, usually only those being collected could see Reapers, why would Death be any different.
"Why would I want to do that? The Winchesters have a reputation, you know. I'd be set for eternity even if I can only get one of them," the demon spit out. From the sounds of it Sam was lucky to have kept quiet earlier.
"You do know that they stay together? You can't have one without the other," Death mentioned casually. The Reapers were flanking the hell hounds, Dean gave a smirking grin at the nervousness the dogs were displaying.
"Well then. Young Sam, would you trade your soul for another day with your brother?" the demon asked with venomous sweetness.
Sam looked at Dean who gave a slight shake of his head.
"No deal, bitch," Sam told her full of cocky confidence.
"How about a week? Seven days. Enough time for him to go to hell carrying your marks. It's not so much to ask, Sam, you'll be coming to us anyway for what you've done with your own brother," she tried again.
Both brothers shook their heads this time.
"I'm not giving up one prize just because you want them taken at the same time. You can have Samuel Winchester, I'm taking the one that is due me," the demon hissed, reaching once again for Dean. Sam yanked Dean a step back and the hell hounds paced forward, ready to attack.
Just as the nearest hound was going to sink its teeth into Sam, a Reaper touched it. The dog gave an unholy whine and disappeared in a cloud of sulfur. Other reapers reached out and dissipated the remaining hounds and the crossroads demon gave a cry of frustration.
"You aren't supposed to interfere in collections! This isn't your domain," the demon shrieked. Her cheeks had two hot splotches from anger that were almost the same color as her eyes.
Death narrowed her eyes as she tapped one finger against her chin. It looked like she was thinking about what to say, uncertain of what she should reveal.
"Are you really this stupid? Does the outer form blind you so much?" Death finally asked and she sounded like she really wanted to know.
"What do you mean? I know my job," the demon rebutted but to Dean she sounded desperate. He would normally find all of this hysterical except he didn't really understand the exchange. Since it was about him he thought he should have a better grasp of the situation.
"Their fate is written in the book of Destiny. You can see the sign clearly if you look at them," Death responded, exasperated. "Oh, very well, since you're obviously blind."
Death waved a hand at Dean and for a moment the demon saw him as he truly was. He was the same height but his hair had more blond in it and his eyes flashed amber. There was a shadow very like wings behind him and the amulet he wore twisted into a shape that resembled a key.
The demon groaned and fell to her knees. Her palms were pressed into the hard gravel of the road and her face was against the backs of her hands. She murmured something that Dean couldn't catch but from her expression Death had. Lucifer.
"What do you think will happen to you and to all of your sisters if you take him before he's ready? Honestly. You couldn't have thought that he was gone! What do you think happened to him after the last great battle?" Death's tone was close to mocking.
"Then he's…" the demon began and sat up enough to wave one hand in Sam's direction.
"His companion, yes," Death said. It was obvious they were being vague on purpose and it was pissing Dean off.
"Oh, my Lord," the demon moaned again, she was obviously terrified. "I can't go back empty handed."
"It seems that you must choose the lesser of two evils," Death grinned.
"I'll need proof. The Lords of Hell will never believe me," the demon simpered. She was prostrate again, bowing towards the Winchesters. Her evident subservience was making Dean twitchy, especially since he still didn't understand what the hell was going on.
Death handed the demon what looked like a business card on thin vellum, in the center of the card was a black stylized ankh. The demon rose to her knees and grabbed the card, pressing it against her chest.
"Remember that I let you go, Lord. Our contract is now null and void," the demon pronounced before disappearing.
"So are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Dean asked, drawing out the words.
"You'll find out one day. I'll explain it to you when we meet again," Death promised. She gave them a wide wink before fading away before their eyes with the sound of mighty wings beating.
"Dammit!" Dean cursed. He really hated it when weird shit happened that he didn't understand. On the other hand, he was more than happy to wait a while before seeing Death again.
"Uh, Dean?" Sam asked, his expression as confused as his brother's.
"I think we're free to go, Sammy."
"Did she tell you what that was all about? 'Cause I could only hear you and the demon," Sam told him with a look of consternation.
"The hell if I know what was going on. I guess heaven doesn't want me and hell's afraid I'll take over?" Dean laughed, relief settling in. He was unaware of the irony of his statement.
They got into the Impala where their laughter was muffled by the roar of the car's engine. Dean put the car in gear and sped away into the darkness toward the wide world and their destiny.