Disclaimer: Do I look like I own these wonderful brothers? Nope! I'm just borrowing with the intent on returning…..though I never said for how long I'd borrow.
A.N: I woke up today all giddy cause it's SPN Friday! Whoo-hoo! It got me through the day and all while I had this picture in my head. And from this picture this story was written in the course of several hours here past. I actually did do a fanart that sparked this entire story that ran away as I typed, which is now on my deviantart account if anyone is interested. The link is on my profile. There is a section for fanart based on the fanfic here that the direct link is there as well if anyone's interested.
This is a welcome back for Sam being re-souled fanfic. It takes place after 6.11 Appointment in Samara but it's kinda AU, so I'll leave that up to you. This was written before the episode tonight aired (which was AWESOME, btw way. I thought I was giddy this morning, now I'm on Cloud 10) I just now got around to posting it.
Warning: Major, major, major, I can't stress that enough, chick-flick moments! (Of course if you don't like that, I wonder why you are here ;p)
Summary: Takes place after 6.11 Appointment in Samara. Dean watches and remembers events on the day of Sam being re-souled for a week that had happened during that time. He only has one thing to say after all that…..
Dean stood in the doorway watching Sam move around the room, getting ready for the new day. It was unusually the Dean was up first, but lately he hadn't been able to sleep.
Scratch that, he hadn't slept well since last May…..
Hadn't slept well since that day; the day that….
Dean unconscious shook his head and blinked. He wouldn't go there again. He wouldn't go down that road.
That road has ended now.
And despite the fact that Sam's body was around him for the past several months didn't help his sleep either. His body might have been around, but Sam wasn't around. The part of him, his soul, his very essence wasn't in his body, making him a completely different person. And it did nothing to beckon sleep to come.
Dean blinked and shook his head again, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat.
He wouldn't go down that road either.
It's past,
it's done,
it's over.
Sure they had new issues to deal with, with the wall in Sam's head and whatnot. But Dean would rather deal with that then a soulless Sam.
A soulless Sam he didn't know what to do with.
He didn't know how to deal with.
Frankly, a soulless Sam scared him.
Scared him to death.
No, it scared him worse than death.
Worse that hell itself.
Scared him more than their father dying,
More than any demon they ever encountered.
Scared him more than the apocalypse they diverted itself.
At least then, he knew they had each other's back; he knew how to deal with that.
He could deal with any of the above.
But soulless Sam?
He was out of his element with that.
Dean shuffled on his feet, hanging his head once before looking up to see Sam putting on his shoes and lacing it up. Presently, it had been a week now since Sam has been re-souled. They hadn't move on from Bobby's, it wasn't even mentioned by any of the three occupants of in the house. Dean had taken to hovering around Sam every minute of the day. Sometimes he'd just find reasons to follow Sam, not that Sam ever said anything about it.
He never did.
Dean could tell that Sam knew what he was doing.
Why he was doing it.
And it was such a relief to be able to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sam knew.
Dean's mouth quirked once. He remember one the first times earlier that week, when his hovering had been so close, they near ran into each other. Well, he near ran into Sam.
Okay, he kinda did run into his little brother.
It was nighttime and for once Dean had managed to get a few hours of sleep until he woke up. Rather he was jarred awake, from nightmares.
He breathed once, running a hand over his face. Quickly to reassure himself, he looked over to the other bed.
Only, to discover that a certain body wasn't occupying it.
Dean swallowed thickly before throwing back the covers and darting out of bed. Stupidly he pulled the covers back on the other bed, as if magically trying to make a body be there.
Nothing.
He turned and fled out the door, almost at a run, his eyes wide and almost panicky. He didn't know what to think.
Did Death really give Sam his soul back?
Was a Soulless Sam out doing heaven knows what?
Was it all a dream?
If it wasn't a dream, did he hurt himself?
Was he okay?
Was it all a dream?
Was Sam still in hell, trapped with Lucifer and Michael?
Did the apocalypse even happen for that matter?
Was….
On, and on, and on the endless list of question running through Dean's head like an assembly line.
He darted out the door and turned to go do down the stairs when he collided with another solid object. He felt something steady him as he held onto said object to steady himself a little daze.
"D'N!" came a familiar voice in a loud hushed whisper.
Dean was shaken as his head snapped up to see that solid object was no other than the body missing from the other bed. Dean blinked once and noticed that Sam had something sticking out of his mouth, chewing on it.
"Sam?" Dean questioned, his hands unconscious tightening his grip on Sam's biceps.
Sam released one of his hands and brought it up to his mouth, taking the object out of his mouth, which now Dean could register as celery with peanut butter on it, to frown at him. "Dean?" he asked, "Hey, man you okay?" He took a bit out of his celery as he waited for an answer.
Dean stared at him unblinkingly for a few moment before suddenly he just started laughing at the normalcy of it all. He just ran into his little brother, cause he was having issues with him not being in bed like he should be, only to discover he probably was hungry and went down to get something to eat. Since coming back, Sam did seem to devour near everything in sight….even things previously he didn't eat much. Maybe after Sam got over it being so new again, he's revert back to those things being disgusting again.
Sam frowned and looked worried as he pushed Dean back into their room and guided him to Dean's bed, the first one in the room of course. He noticed that Dean always seemed to have a least one hand gripping him at all times.
Sam sat down next to him as Dean's laughter died down to chuckles.
Sam gave a soft smile. "Wanna share the joke?"
"No joke." Dean answered.
"Dean, what's wrong? You seemed…..panicky….?" Sam stumbled to find a suited word that he hoped wouldn't embarrass his brother.
Dean's eyes swung to Sam's face, "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?"
Sam gave that smile, dimples and all, and to his credit didn't laugh. Not a hint of laughter anywhere, "I'm fine. Just was startled."
Dean stared at Sam, studying him pretty hard.
Sam only leaned forward conspiratorially and said, "I'm not made of glass, you know? I won't break with contact. There is no 'Fragile: Handle with Care' sticker anywhere on my person."
It broke the tension in Dean and made him chuckle, settling his nerves. Sam just smiled and took another bit of his celery. "So, what was wrong?" he asked.
"Just wondering where you were", Dean shrugged seeming almost casual, if not for the hand that was still gripping the tail end of Sam's shirt.
Sam took the final bite of his celery and chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing, "Sorry, I was hungry. I had to get something to eat."
"Yeah, I see that." Dean nodded trying to get his dignity back, " I knew that." He was now starting to feel self-conscious about running into this brother like that.
"Of course", Sam humored him before hitting Dean's shoulder lightly, "Hey, you want a sandwich? I was trying to make do with celery with peanut butter but I could go for some ham."
Dean appreciated Sam allowing him to be near him without being obvious about it. Dean wouldn't be able to gracefully find a way to trail behind him down to the kitchen after that run-in.
Literally it seemed.
He gave a small smile, "Yeah, sure."
They stood up, Dean's hand falling back to his side as Sam lead the way to go out the door. Dean stopped a frown working its way onto his face, "Wait, Sam?"
Sam turned around leaning in the doorway, a question in his eyes.
"Why didn't you just get a sandwich in the first place if you were that hungry?" Dean seemed to find this question troubling.
Sam gave a cheeky smile, "It's loaded with carbs, Dean. Eating that junk is your bag, not mine. But right now I get cravings for the darnest things, but I'm trying to get back to a relatively healthy semblance of a meal. And furthermore, a big sandwich like the one I'm thinking this late at night will leave much to be desired in the morning."
And with that he turned and walked down the stairs.
Dean just stared at him mouth open frozen for a moment before he sub-consciously walked out the door following Sam.
He had never heard of a more beautiful monologue.
And he would later blame the onions on the sandwich for the reason his eyes suspicious got wetter and wetter as they went downstairs to the kitchen...
It made a fond chuckle worm its way out of Dean. Yeah, those onions really were ripe.
But it wasn't always like Sam was just….Sam...
There had been moments when Sam just checked out and worried Dean. There were moments Dean had to remind Sam not to scratch at the wall. Like that one incident only three days ago. It really made Dean upset just to think about it, as he blinked rapidly trying to expel the lingering emotions:
It was going on evening and Bobby was still out. Something about grocery shopping since it was like feeding a garbage disposal around here now. Yes, it was said with great fondness and a pat on Sam's shoulder before he left.
Dean had fun with the fact that the 'garbage disposal' wasn't him this time.
Dean and Sam had retired to the sitting room, watching TV. The show didn't really matter, as Dean was giving running commentary about it, entertaining Sam who kept chuckling a few times, and once outright laughing. That show had eventually went off and another came on, in which time Sam had moved to another chair, looking out the window. Dean's focus then had been to constantly check on him, watching him, worrying as minutes faded to more minutes.
"Dean?" came a small voice finally breaking the tension that was mounting.
Dean bolted upright from his lazy position on the couch, his entire focus on his little brother and that small shred of a voice that shot all kinds of worry and pain throughout his body.
"Sammy?" Dean breathed out, full blown worry lacing his voice.
Sam robotically cocked his head and slowly turned around in the chair. Tears began to gather in his eyes only to fall down his face and no sooner than they did, did he have hands wiping them away.
"Hey, hey", Dean murmured softly kneeling in front of his brother, "What's wrong? Talk to me, Sam." His eyes searched for the problem even as he waited.
"It hurted."
Dean swallowed not needing to know what he was talking about, yet wishing he could pinpoint specifically what he was talking about. "I know, I know." He responded simply.
"I knew, you know. They tried. They tried to make me think they it was you. But I knew, I always knew. Except once. Once I near messed up."
"It's okay, now Sam. It's…." Dean never finished as suddenly Sam pushed him back, slapping his hands away to stand up. Dean was stunned as he looked up at Sam. It would have been comical if not for the situation. Dean was stunned at this turn of events.
"It's not okay!" Sam yelled hazel fire in his eyes blazing, "Don't you get that? It wasn't okay! If I had one thing to hang onto, it was that I was supposed to know! I didn't know! Or maybe…." He seemed to deflate as he looked younger and far away. He glanced down at Dean and seemed recoil from him as he moved around him to walk away.
Dean darted to his feet and reached out his hand to stop Sam's retreat. Sam snatched his arm back, but Dean persisted. This kept going for a bit before finally, Dean rushed to stand to block his brother's way.
"Move out my way!" Sam growled.
Dean held up his hands, "Calm down…"
"Don't you tell me to calm down!" Sam snapped, "I know what I was supposed to know. But I can't remember if I…" Sam's eyes seem to get far away as if he was concentrating on something.
Suddenly Dean gasped and began to get frantic. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and shook him once. "Leave it alone, Sam!" he barked out a command and a plea, "Don't touch the wall, don't scratch the wall, don't even look at the darn wall!"
Sam seemed to snap out of it and look down at Dean. He said nothing, his expression unreadable.
Dean found himself desperate, "Sam, I'm begging you man! Begging! I'll get down on my hands and knees if I must, but I'm begging you to leave it alone."
"But don't you want to know?" Sam asked softly.
"NO! I don't! Know what? I know that my little brother was trapped with two of the biggest and baddest #%#$ out there, suffering and I couldn't do anything about it! You're here now….that's all the matters."
Sam eyes looked away from his big brother. Dean shook him. "Look at me!" A plea and command once more and Sam obeyed. "Don't scratch."
"It'll come down eventually." Sam murmured.
"If…IF it comes down, we'll deal with it then. You and me. Together, like always. Whatever is hiding behind there, we'll deal with it. We." Dean plowed on as Sam looked at him, "But not a moment sooner. Do you understand me? If it never comes down, don't you go tearing it down."
"But don't you want to know?" That question again.
Dean was staring at Sam, reading his eyes. There was something beneath the surface of that question, he was sure of it. The way it was asked; Sam didn't literally mean what he asked. Dean was starting to see this. He was becoming sure of this.
So Dean treaded cautiously, wary, "Know what, Sam?"
There was a long silence. Dean shook Sam once before asking once more, "Know what?"
Sam swallowed thickly diverting his eyes, but found that Dean gently guided his face back to look at him with his hand, "I've been….I don't remember much, but sometimes snippets just….come to me. I haven't touched the wall, but sometimes small things come but usually I forget within a span of time. I sometimes think I dream things then I wake up and can't remember. That kind of thing, you know? But ever since….since day two I've been back, this hadn't gone away." Sam rambled around.
Dean's voice was soft, "Which is?"
"In hell, Lucifer or Michael or both I don't remember, they…..they would try to hurt me….using you. They were you. I'd see you, like you, you know?"
Dean breath caught in his throat as Sam looked down only to be briefly shaken, a silent command to look up so he did as he continued, "But, there was always something they'd say or do, that made me know that it wasn't you. I knew you. I know you. And it wouldn't work to any degree, cause I knew, you know. I knew. Even sometimes a look, it was wrong with you. You'd never look like that. You never have. And then….there was this….one time….I think it was one time…."
Unconsciously, Sam's face crunched up and he brought a hand to his head. Dean grasp his wrist and lowered his hand. "Don't try to remember."
"But that's just it!" Sam cried tears filling his eyes again, "There was this one time, I think, that they managed to do…something or something and I thought it was you. But, I don't remember, but I don't know if I willing gave up and accept them as you cause I was desperate or if I knew it wasn't you and rejected them, fought them! I don't remember! All the other times that I remember, I know I didn't. I fought them. I rejected them, but that one time, that I don't remember if it was once, I don't remember if I accepted for a brief respite or what! Don't you want to know?" Sam's was yelling by this time, tears flowing freely, trying to push Dean away who wouldn't let him do it.
"Sam. Sam! Sammy!" Dean cried gave him yet another shake to calm down. Finally Sam stilled knowing that Dean wouldn't let him go as he sobbed. Dean brought him close circling his arms around his not so little, little brother. They stood like that for quite some time, Dean only muttering soothing nonsense as Sam's sob died down.
"Sammy, I don't want to know. I don't care. Whatever you did, I don't care."
"How can you say that? If I did accept them, then I betrayed you! I should have fought." Sam's voice was muffled against Dean's shoulder.
"If…Sam. You don't know that you did."
"I could find out."
Dean snatched Sam away from him holding him at arm's length looking at earnest hazel eyes. "No." he enunciated slowly and flatly.
Sam's eyes were pleading. "But Dean...", he whined.
"NO!" Dean screamed making Sam jump back a little at the abruptness of it. "I don't care! If you accepted, if you didn't! I don't care! You were in hell suffering, being tortured. Whatever happened then, it was because you were being tortured and it won't change that you are my little brother and….well I love you, darn it! It won't change anything! Do you understand that, Sam? Do you get it? Are you listening to me?" Dean resisted the urge to shake Sam once more.
"Not even wishing you just left me down there?"
And now we get to the real question that was trying to be asked.
There was no hesitation on Dean's part as he answered, "No, that would just mean I'm gladder that I got you out. Which is impossible because I'm pretty darn glad now. If anything it would mean I wish I could have gotten you out sooner. I wish I could have spared you that pain, all of it. I wish that they didn't use me, of all things, as a torture device. If I could, I would march down there and torture them for what they did to you. I never wanted you to hurt Sammy, in any way, shape or form. I don't want to know what is behind the wall. If it never comes down, I'm happy with with that. But if something seeps through, we, are you hearing me Sammy? WE deal with it, together. You tell me if you remember snippets but you don't go fishing for more snippets to put together with the snippets you already have if it doesn't give you a full picture. I don't want a full picture; I don't care enough to know. If it means risking your well being, I don't want to know."
Dean stopped there, winded by his monologue yet still searching Sam's eyes who was in turn seem to be searching his.
"I'm sorry." Sam finally spoke after awhile, "If I did accept them that time or times, or whatever, I'm sorry."
Dean shook his head, his own eyes blinking, "Nothing to be sorry for Sammy."
"Still, I'm sorry."
"If it makes you feel better to apologize, then I'll accept it, as long as you know where I stand."
Finally, a small crack of a small. "I do." Was the simple smile.
Dean's own mouth quirked once before become deadly serious, "You have to promise me Sam. No scratching. And if you have anything else that is bothering you, come to me. Don't wait so long, okay? Talk to me. I want to help. Just like….when I came back….you were there, remember?"
Sam nodded as Dean continued, "But NO scratching and if you feel an itch that is driving you crazy you come to me, okay. We'll work through it. But NO scratching!"
At this, Sam chuckled once, "I got it, Dean. No scratching."
Dean couldn't smile, couldn't laugh, "I mean it! Promise me! And I will hold you to that. Promise me. If you never promise me or kept a promise before, this is the one I want reassurance one. Promise me…."
"I promise, Dean" Sam intoned solemnly.
Dean stared at him a few moments before slowly nodding. "You'll come to me?"
"I will. As usual." Sam leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean who did the same to him, nodding. "Good", Dean murmured closing his eyes feeling really tired as he sure Sam was.
"And Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"Love ya, too."
"Shut up." Dean snorted fondly and he heard Sam laugh once.
Since that day, Dean hadn't heard anything about that particular subject and when he subtly hinted at it, it seemed that Sam had forgotten it. All he got was a blink and a huh. And Dean had never been so relieved. He thought that maybe since the issue didn't bother Sam anymore, or that Sam didn't let it bother him anymore, since their talk, his mind had forgotten about it. Either way, Dean was not going to question, he merely took it as a sign that Sam was obeying his strong plea.
Dean traveled deeper into this thoughts on the subject despite not wanting to. Sam had suffered so much in his life, even more than what they were aware of. Who knows what other horrors Sam had be subject to? Those #&%# hurt him and it made Dean mad to think about it. Sam shouldn't have so much throwing at him. Dean did his best to try to protect him from everything. He knew that he couldn't protect Sam from everything but he would darn well try.
Guilt unexpectedly cropped into him mind.
Of course, he could protect Sam from everything but there were times that Dean himself had hurt Sam. The one the most recent was watching Death stick Sam's soul into his body. Sam had broken down and pleaded and begged not to do that. He claimed it would break him. And yet Dean said nothing just watched, a little piece of himself dying as Death calmly, ignoring his little brother's pleas and inserted the soul back in. He wanted to bad to take it back; to tell Death to stop, but he didn't.
He couldn't.
He had weighed all the options and came to the same conclusion.
He had tried to heed Castiel's advice and he tried to get along with this new Sam, this soulless Sam that he didn't understand.
He tried.
But he couldn't.
He didn't trust Soulless Sam.
He trusted him less then when he and Sam broke up for awhile after the apocalypse started. At least Dean knew without doubt, that Sam was sorry for what he had did, but he just couldn't deal with it at that time.
But Soulless Sam?
He didn't have the luxury of knowing that what he said was truth.
Dean didn't know what Soulless Sam would do from moment to moment.
He didn't know how to tell if he was lying.
Dean couldn't tell he was lying.
And then not knowing what Soulless Sam was capable of; of how far he would go?
And that was proven when Dean came back to find Sam ready to kill Bobby.
Dean guessed, he understood why Sam did it. He was desperate not to get his soul back in, terrified it would destroy him. But how could he let such a...a monster as there was no other way to describe it, loose like that? Dean winced at his own word choice.
If Soulless Sam could turn on his own kin, blood or not, what did that say about what else he could do?
Yeah, Sam could kill him, but that wasn't what he was worried about.
At least if he was around, he could play Jimmy Cricket and try to reason with him, but if he wasn't here who knows what Soulless Sam would do.
So he had to choose and he choose to deal with the consequences of what would happen if and that was a big IF the wall fell. At least then he would know what to do, how to navigate that field. He would know what to do or even an educated guess, cause Sam would be be Sam and he knew Sam. Yet still he felt guilty for hurting Sam as there was no other way to put it. But just last night they had talked about that cause that guilt had been building since Sam was re-souled.
He kinda blurted it out really:
"I'm sorry for hurting you!"
Sam blinked and looked over at Dean, peering over his laptop at him, who was on his own laptop across from Sam. They were both sitting at the dining room table. Dean looked nervous as he didn't look at Sam, though his eyes kept bouncing up at him before looking back at this laptop.
Sam blinked again, "I'm sorry? Come again?" he finally asked.
"I'm sorry of hurting you."
Sam gave a disbelieving chuckle, "When was this supposedly time you hurt me?"
"Sam..." Dean paused, "I...it...you were yelling and pleading with me not to return your soul. You begged me and I could see the terror in your eyes. I could have stopped Death and called the whole thing off but I just kept quiet and watched as he reinserted your soul. I didn't do anything. I could see the heartbreak, as if I betrayed you, and I suppose I did in a way. But I just..."
"Dean. No, Dean, no", Sam shook his head, "Look at me?" he asked as Dean was fiddling with the corner of his laptop and reluctantly obeyed, "I don't blame you. You hear me? I don't blame you, ergo there is no reason for you to be sorry."
"I hurt you", Dean shrugged tears in his eyes.
"No, you helped me. I was a monster, there is no escaping that. I mean, God, Dean", Sam flopped back into his chair, almost sagging in it, "I almost killed Bobby! Our second father, without a thought, just to save my own skin? No, you did the right thing."
"Did I?"
"Of course. I'm glad to be back, soul and body. I really am. I'm glad to know right from wrong. I'm glad to know where the line is. I'm glad to know that I know that I wouldn't hurt either you or Bobby. I mean if I was able to hurt Bobby..." Sam trailed off his voice quiet.
There was a moment of silence.
"What did that say about me?" Dean finished equally as quiet.
Sam nodded. "I keep going over it in my mind and it still gets back to that...I could have hurt you and who knows what else I would have been capable of. I was a walking disaster in all ways, Dean. No, you did the right thing. My body, panic, and probably knew if it could get you to believe that you were hurting me that you'd stop." Sam had often began to refer to his Soulless body as just a body instead of him, "And then, if you did stop it...what if...what if I just...turned on you the moment you let me go. My body might have killed you Dean and Bobby and then what? You were it's leach while my soul was downstairs and without you, it would have been rampaged. I would have been rampaged."
"It wasn't you, Sam."Dean repeated once more.
"I know, that is what you keep telling me, Dean. That is why try not to refer to myself as such. And that is what you must get. It wasn't me. You got me back, and I thank you for that. I'm in your debt."
Dean smiled once, "Just keep not scratching. Keep your promise that is debt enough."
Sam smiled, "As long as you'll get rid of this pointless guilt."
"I'm still sorry anyway", Dean said.
"Well..." Sam smiled wider at this, "If it makes you feel better to apologize, then I'll accept it, as long as you know where I stand."
Dean blinked then chuckled at Sam turning his own words back at him.
"You good? We good?" Sam asked frowning lightly.
Dean glanced away once before looking back at Sam who looked serious, "I didn't hurt you?" he asked unsure, just to be sure.
"It would have hurt more if you hadn't gotten me back."
After that there was nothing more to be said on that subject. Dean still wrestled with the guilt he had but if Sam was taking what he said to heart, he could do no less.
"You keep frowning it'll stick that way", came a chuckle.
Dean snapped back to see Sam finishing tying the laces on his final shoe. Sam was smiling at him; Dean blinked even more rapidly reaching up to rub his eyes.
"Tired?" Sam asked and Dean knew that he wasn't bringing attention to the real reason he was rubbing his eyes.
And he was grateful.
He was grateful for a lot of things
But he was mostly grateful for having his little brother back.
Sam stood up and walked towards Dean and the door. "Come on; let's see what Bobby has cooking for breakfast." Then he began to mumble loud enough for Dean to hear as he stood out of the doorway to let Sam through first, "I could have sworn I dreamt of a dancing sausage. This has got to stop. Dreaming of food is your gig, not mine. I mean, I never remembered dreaming of food before."
Dean couldn't help himself as he reached out and threw his arms around Sam's shoulders stopping him in the doorway as he went to go out. A sob escaped him as he said breathy, "Yeah, man. Can you imagine dancing salads? Not a sexy picture."
"As if dancing apple pie is?" Sam snorted once.
There was a brief moment of silence that was broken by Dean's sniffing that he was trying to stifle, before Sam turned his head to look over his shoulder to glance at Dean. A small frown graced his face.
"Dean?" he asked worry lacing through his voice, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Even as he asked he reached up and patted his older brother's arm.
Dean sniffed once, shutting his eyes tight for a moment, before opening them. It was a moment before he could answer without feeling like his voice would fully break, "I'm okay."
Dean couldn't help the small lone tear that escaped his eye.
And yet, despite that, he couldn't help the smile that graced his face. Sam didn't say anything as a small smile danced on his own face.
"Hey, I don't know, that I ever told you…" Dean murmured.
"Hm? Yeah?"
"Welcome home."
Fin.
A.N: Thanks so much for reading! I got tired just typing some of the scenes, especially since this is supposed to be so emotionally charged but now I'm stuck with this stupid smile on my face. I hope you all enjoyed!