A/N: Well it all started with a prompt from deirdre_c over on LiveJournal about Dean getting a blaster wound - story is called The Moons Are Burning and you can find it on my list of stories - and I have no idea how, but now it's a 'verse, because I can't stop writing about the boys in space. Oh boy ... but darn it, if it's not fun! LOL
Warnings: language, space, sci-fi, violence, kinda dark(ish), h/c, lots of made up stuff
I own nothing, all is fiction and I am sorry for all grammar/spelling mistakes. Story is complete in 3 parts.
Space hid many things, but the Impala wasn't one of 'em. She loved being noticed, loved being seen because she knew that what was inside of her, the precious cargo she was carrying, could bring salvation or destruction and she loved that everyone knew that.
Flying through space? It was what she had been designed for, made for, constructed for, told to do by engineers and … by John Winchester so many years ago when he spotted her on Luna's vast docking pier. She remembered that day; a man with one child wrapped around his leg, little hands holding tightly to the man's pants and a baby that he held, pressing him to his chest, rubbing a big, strong hand up and down the baby's back, shushing him.
She fell in love and so did he.
"You're gonna do just fine, baby. Gonna take care of my kid's too, aren'tcha, sweetheart?"
She knew she would. Forever.
-:-
They had one rule, one rule among many that their father had all but tattooed into their brains …
… forget about everything and everyone and protect your brother.
They tried, they tried so hard to follow other rules too, especially the 'save people, hunt down evil sons of bitches' but sometimes rule no. 1 overrode everything else.
Because in this vast, dirty and dark space, all they had was each other and if one of them died, the other one would follow soon.
It's why Dean was pushing the Impala as hard as he could, going beyond what she was capable of giving, being an old ship and all, but he needed her to give it all.
"Come on, baby. Don't fail me now. Come on, sweetie. You can do it. If not for me, then for Sam. Okay? I know you're still pissed about that whole low flight over Amalthea, I swear I'll never do that again, just come on! COME ON!"
She gurgled something that sounded like either indigestion problems he sometimes got after eating on Nereid or a 'you are forgiven'. It was hard to tell with a ship class Chevy, but he took what he got, which was a bit more speed. It's all he needed really; because they were so close and he was not gonna lose Sam today. Today was not a good day for his little brother to die.
"We need to get to Luna, baby." he whispered and pushed some glowing buttons on the console before him, adjusting light and air inflow, lowering shields – because those sons of bitches from Ganymede weren't following them anymore, because they were dead. Fucking assholes. Goddamnit.
Sam wheezed on the co-pilot seat next to him.
"Sam, we'll be there soon, 'kay? Just few more minutes, 'kay? You gotta hold on for me, man."
Please, just hold on…
"O-o-o-kay-kay … D-de-ean."
The way his brother barely got those two words out, tore something inside of Dean and he threatened every Deity in the lunar system that he would kill them all if his brother would die. And then he would die too and leave space unprotected and let scavengers and savages destroy the moons, destroy the system because he just wouldn't give a fuck anymore.
"'s okay, Sammy. 's okay, just breathe. Slow. Okay? Nice and slow, gonna be just fine."
He didn't want to look to his right; didn't want to see Sam struggling to breathe, all the veins standing out in his temples, his neck, his arms. Didn't want to see his legs twitching in spasms, his chest rising up and down in quick attempts to get some air into his all but frozen lungs. Didn't want to see his brother dying.
Because seeing all that would just make him want to turn his ship around and kill the fuckers all over again. Give them a more painful death than being pushed into the freezing waters of Ganymede and turn to ice in an instant. Because now they were ice sculptures; faces full of agony and arms trying to flee the waters … but eternal. They would forever float in the waters, ice statues.
He glanced at Sam then. They were brothers, family, same blood flowing through their veins and fucking hell if fear would ever stop him from looking after or at his little brother.
"Gonna be there real soon, Sammy."
His brother kept on struggling to breathe, hands grabbing for his chest first, trying to rip it apart to get some air it seemed, then gripping his pants and then … then he started to grab at Dean's arms, digging his bitten fingernails into Dean's forearms, drawing blood.
"Shit, Sam!"
"H-h-huuu-r-tsss."
"I know, man. I know. Just hold on, just a little longer. I can see Luna. We're almost there. Can you see it?"
He watched as Sam closed his eyes, tears streaming down his blue face, and then open them back up and concentrated on the view from the front window. Luna looked to Sam as if it was glowing, pulling him towards the surface … with each second that passed, he could see the craters and the highlands. And it was beautiful.
"I s-see."
Dean saw too. Luna. The home base of the United Moon's Federation. They had capable doctors there – hell, they treated his blaster wound and he came out just fine – were protected against all kinds of attacks, had engineers that would gladly look at his ship and do some modifications, and they had a place for them to sleep and for Sam to recover. Because he would not die. He wouldn't let his brother die.
"See it? Its right there little brother, just," he looked at a red number the console was blinking at him, "three more minutes and then it'll all be over."
He was talking more to comfort himself by this point, because Sam … he was looking all but ready to say goodbye to this shitty life.
"Sam?"
"'m-m-mm he-here."
"Good."
Good, although his brother looked and sounded like his strength was seeping out fast.
"Baby, go landing sequence L14, sharp right, docking pier 15, left side. Call medical. Urgent."
He trusted his ship; she got them safely off Ganymede, she got them here with all the power she got and then some, she saved their sorry asses more time that he could count and he knew, he knew in his bones and blood that she would take his order and do her best to get them safely to the Luna's surface.
She was a good ship. His father chose wisely.
-:-
He unclipped his seat belt, rotated his chair towards Sam and choked on his spit. Sam was blue. His brother was all blue. His face, his arms, his … skin everywhere was blue. He was all but frozen and he couldn't breathe properly and he was not gonna die.
"Sammy, we're here. She just needs to land, okay?"
Sam's nod was a jerk of his head, a twitch Dean didn't think Sam could even control. There were spasms taking control over Sam's whole body, jerking motions of his fingers and hands and arms and legs and feet and his chest and his back … his lips were trying to work around words, but nothing came out anymore, there were no words – Deities, but his brother couldn't speak anymore. All there was, were these little choking, whimpering, gasping noises and it was all too much.
Fucking creature traders. Why did they have to answer to Mr. Bobby's call again? Why, fuckin'…
Oh yeah, because it was who they were. Fighters, warriors, soldiers who went into these things to try and help, to save, to destroy evil. But space was so big, the United Moon's Federation had more than one hundred and eighty moons under its wing and sometimes it all felt like an endless job. Just a vicious circle of evil and good and evil and good.
There's no evil without good and no good without evil, their father used to say, before he put a blaster in their hands and told them to shot and kill and maim, but never let live. Monsters that hunted down animals, creatures or people (of Earth or other planets) to use as slaves or trade them for water, food or oxygen were to be killed. That was a lesson given to them by their father and they lived by it ever since. Good was worth fighting for.
"We have landed, Dean. Medics are awaiting."
The voice, if it could be called that, was robotic. No feelings there; no fear (for Sam), no love, no celebration that they made it, no happiness, no sadness. Nothing. But he, and Sam, both knew that the Impala had more love for them sometimes, than even their own father did.
"Hear that Sammy? Hear it? 'm gonna open the doors now, medics'll come, but I won't leave you, you hear me? Won't leave you…"
"Open the door, baby. Protocol 1256, medics on board."
He couldn't hear the doors opening , but knew the sound they made, a low swisssh sound that sometimes he loved to hear – whenever they were running to safety from being killed – and sometimes hated – like now, when there were people boarding the ship, his ship, their ship to take his brother away from him.
But he wouldn't leave him. Rule no. 2: never leave your brother alone.
Sure, these were the best doctors one could find in the Lunar system, and they would help his brother the best they could, and he could leave Sam with them and go get something to eat and drink and maybe get some sleep – he hadn't slept in thirty-eight hours and counting – but rule no.2 was as important as rule no.1.
Their father tried to teach them, tried to beat into their heads that they were all they had. They were everything they had in this emptiness, among all these aliens and people and creatures and all this evilness. They needed to keep each other alive no matter the cost, needed to keep themselves alive … until there was no other choice.
And needless to say, the UMF (United Moon's Federation) hadn't been all that open to those rules. They fought – with first their father and later with him and Sam – about loosening the rules a little, because surely the wellbeing of the moons population was more important than keeping his brother safe. They were talking about millions and millions and millions of people, versus one man. The greater good, and all that.
And all that got the UMF was its lead men with broken noses and ribs and concussions. Because no one, absolutely no one would ever say that to them – to John, to Dean or to Sam. Family came first, then came everyone else.
If it weren't for Mr. Bobby, Dean thought that his whole family would've been on the UMF's hit list.
But, and he still has no clue how it happened or what Mr. Bobby told the master minds of the UMF, they suddenly saw that it was far better for the Winchesters to work for them, rather than against them. And to keep their rules.
That man always understood that those rules were sacred, like the Holy Bible was to the people of Earth.
-:-
"Okay, man, they're here. 'm not leaving you, understand?"
Sam's head jerked sideways. He was so blue, his eyes bulging out, his face covered in tears and snot and it was like watching one of those little snotty fur-balls on Umbriel, when ice got stuck on their whiskers. But that was a cute sight, while this … seeing Sam like that was making Dean wanna throw up.
Sam's tears and snot?
Were frozen on his face.
TBC...